THRIFT. 

BY SAMUEL SMILES, "Be thrifty, but not covetous; therefore giveThy need, thine honour, and thy friend his due, Never was scraper brave man. Get to _live_, Then live, and use it; else it is not true That thou hast gotten. Surely use alone Make money not a contemptible stone. " GEORGE HERBERT. 

"To catch Dame Fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her;And gather gear by ev'ry wile That's justify'd by Honour:Not for to hide it in a hedge, Not for a train attendant;But for the glorious privilege Of being Independent. " ROBERT BURNS. 

_FIFTIETH THOUSAND_. 

LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 1892. 

Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld. , London and Aylesbury. 

PREFACE. 

This book is intended as a sequel to "Self-Help, " and "Character. " Itmight, indeed, have appeared as an introduction to these volumes; forThrift is the basis of Self-Help, and the foundation of much that isexcellent in Character. 

The author has already referred to the Use and Abuse of Money; but thelesson is worthy of being repeated and enforced. As he has alreadyobserved, --Some of the finest qualities of human nature are intimatelyrelated to the right use of money; such as generosity, honesty, justice, and self-denial; as well as the practical virtues of economy andprovidence. On the other hand, there are their counterparts of avarice, fraud, injustice, and selfishness, as displayed by the inordinate loversof gain; and the vices of thoughtlessness, extravagance, andimprovidence, on the part of those who misuse and abuse the meansentrusted to them. 

Sir Henry Taylor has observed that "industry must take an interest inits own fruits, and God has appointed that the mass of mankind shall bemoved by this interest, and have their daily labour sweetened by it. "The earnings and savings of industry should be intelligent for a purposebeyond mere earnings and savings. We do not work and strive forourselves alone, but for the benefit of those who dependent upon us. Industry must know how to earn, how to spend, and how to save. The manwho knows, like St. Paul, how to spare and how to abound, has a greatknowledge. 

Every man is bound to do what he can to elevate his social state, and tosecure his independence. For this purpose he must spare from his meansin order to be independent in his condition. Industry enables men toearn their living; it should also enable them to learn to live. Independence can only be established by the exercise of forethought, prudence, frugality, and self-denial. To be just as well as generous, men must deny themselves. The essence of generosity is self-sacrifice. 

The object of this book is to induce men to employ their means forworthy purposes, and not to waste them upon selfish indulgences. Manyenemies have to be encountered in accomplishing this object. There areidleness, thoughtlessness, vanity, vice, intemperance. The last is theworst enemy of all. Numerous cases are cited in the course of thefollowing book, which show that one of the best methods of abating theCurse of Drink, is to induce old and young to practise the virtue ofThrift. 

Much of this book was written, and some of it published, years ago; butan attack of paralysis, which compelled the author to give up writingfor some time, has delayed its appearance until now. For much of theinformation recently received, he is indebted to Edward Crossley, Esq. , Mayor of Halifax; Edward Akroyd, Esq. , Halifax; George Chetwynd, Esq. , General Post Office; S. A. Nichols, Esq. , Over Darwen; Jeremiah Head, Esq. , Middlesborough; Charles W. Sikes, Esq. , Huddersfield: and numerousother correspondents in Durham, Renfrewshire, Yorkshire, Lancashire, Staffordshire, and South Wales. 

The author trusts that the book will prove useful and helpful towardsthe purpose for which it is intended. 

London, _November, _ 1875. 

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

INDUSTRY. 

Private economy--Useful labours--Our birthright--Results oflabour--Necessity for labour--Industry and intellect--Thrift andcivilization--Thrifty industry--Thrifty economy. Pages 1--10

CHAPTER II. 

HABITS OF THRIFT. 

Workmen and capital--Habits of economy--Self-indulgence--Results ofthriftlessness--Uses of saved money--Extravagantliving--Bargain-buying--Thrift and unthrift--Johnson oneconomy--Self-respect--Self-help--Uncertainty of life--Laws ofmortality--Will nobody help us?--Prosperous times the leastprosperous--National prosperity--Moral independence. Pages 11--29

CHAPTER III. 

IMPROVIDENCE. 

Misery and wealth--The uncivilized--The East End--Edward Denison--Thriftin Guernsey--Improvidence and misery--Social Degradation--Fatalism ofimprovidence--Self-taxation--Slowness of progress. Pages 30--40

CHAPTER IV. 

MEANS OF SAVING. 

Earnings of operatives--Colliers and iron-workers--Earnings ofcolliers--The revellers--Lord Elcho and the colliers--High wages andheavy losses--High wages and drink--Sensual indulgence--Indifference towell-being--Hugh Miller's experience--Mr. Roebuck's advice--Survival ofslavery--Extinction of slavery--Power unexercised--Earnings andcharacter--Ignorance is power--Results of ignorance--Increase ofknowledge--Education not enough--Words of Sir Arthur Helps--Divine usesof knowledge--Public school education--Words of William Felkin. Pages41--64

CHAPTER V. 

EXAMPLES OF THRIFT. 

Spirit of order--Examples of economy--David Hume--Rev. RobertWalker--Self-application--Distinguished miners--Geo. Stephenson--JamesWatt--Working for independence--Working for higher things--Work andculture--Richardson and Gregory--Results of application--Distinguishedartists--Canova and Lough--John Lough--Lough's success--Words of LordDerby--James Nasmyth--Bridgewater foundry--Advice to young men. Pages65--88

CHAPTER VI. 

METHODS OF ECONOMY. 

Keeping regular account--Generosity and forethought--Prudent economy--Adignity in saving--Self-improvement--Causes of failure--The price ofsuccess--Power of combining--Principle of association--Savings ofcapital--Loss by strikes--Money thrown away--Industrialsocieties--Co-operative companies--Equitable pioneers--Darwenco-operatives--Spread of co-operation--Thrift conservative--Uses ofinvestments in building societies. Pages 89--109

CHAPTER VII. 

ECONOMY IN LIFE ASSURANCE. 

Co-operation in assurance--Improvidence cruel--Compensation ofassurance--Benefit societies--French and Belgian thrift--Workmen'ssocieties--Manchester Unity--Duty and Dinners--Low rates ofcontribution--Failure of friendly societies--Improvement byexperience--Defects will disappear. Pages 110--122

CHAPTER VIII. 

SAVINGS BANKS. 

Direct saving--Uses of saved money--Beginnings of savings banks--Dr. Duncan of Ruthwell--Establishment of savings banks--Classes ofDepositors--Magic of drill--Military savings banks--Savings ofsoldiers--Soldiers abroad--Deposits in savings banks--Savings atBilston--Savings of working men--Penny banks--Charles W. Sikes--Mechanics' institute banks--The poor man's purse--Depositors inpenny banks--They cultivate prudent habits--Influence of women--Earlylessons in thrift--Belgian Schools--Facilities for saving--Extension ofsavings banks--Money order offices--Post office savings banks--CharlesW. Sikes--Lessons of thrift--Mechanics' savings banks--Savings ofartizans--Savings in Preston. Pages 123--158

CHAPTER IX. 

LITTLE THINGS. 

Luck and labour--Neglect of little things--"It will do!"--Spending ofpennies--The thrifty woman--A helpful wife--A man's daily life--The twoworkmen--Rights and habits--Influence of the wife--A penny a day--Thepower of a penny--Joseph Baxendale--Pickford and Co. --Roads andRailways--Business maxims. Pages 159--178

CHAPTER X. 

MASTERS AND MEN. 

Want of sympathy--Masters and servants--Christiansympathy--Competition--What capital represents--Workmen andemployers--The Ashworths--New Eagley Mills--Improved workpeople--Publicspirit of manufacturers--Mr. Lister of Bradford--Mr. Foster'sspeech--Great men wise savers--Sir Titus Salt--Saltaire--Itsinstitutions--Music and sobriety--Mr. Akroyd, Halifax--Yorkshire pennybank--Origin of the bank--How to help the poor--Saving helpssobriety--Drunkenness put down--"Childish work"--Penny banks. Pages179--204

CHAPTER XI. 

THE CROSSLEYS--MASTERS AND MEN (CONTINUED). 

John Crossley--Martha Crossley--A courtship begun--A courtshipconcluded--John Crossley begins business--Dean Clough Mill--The Crossleyfamily--Sir Francis Crossley--Martha Crossley's vow--Halifax People'sPark--Martha's vow fulfilled--Co-operation of colliers--Partnership ofindustry--Other co-operative schemes--Jeremiah Head--Newport rollingmills--Bonuses to workmen--Mr. Carlyle's letter--A contrast--A hundredyears ago--Popular amusements--Improvement of manners--English mechanicsand workmen--English engineers and miners--Swiftness ofmachinery--Foreign workmen--Provident habits of foreigners. Pages205--232

CHAPTER XII. 

LIVING BEYOND THE MEANS. 

Hypocrisy and debt--Conventionalism--Keeping up appearances--Exclusivecircles--Women and exclusiveness--Women and extravagance--Running intodebt--The temptation of shopkeepers--Temptations to crime--How crime iscommitted--Love of dress--Gents--Reckless expenditure--Knowledge ofArithmetic--Marriage--Happy tempers--Responsibilities ofmarriage--Marriage not a lottery--The man who couldn't say "No"--Thecourage to say "No"--"Respectable" funerals--Funeral extravagance--JohnWesley's will--Funeral reform. Pages 233--258

CHAPTER XIII. 

GREAT DEBTORS. 

Greatness and debt--Seedy side of debt--Running up bills--Loanclubs--Genius and debt--Fox and Sheridan--Sheridan'sdebts--Lamartine--Webster--Debts of men of science--Debts ofartists--Italian artists--Haydon--The old poets--Savage andJohnson--Steele and Goldsmith--Goldsmith's debts--Goldsmith'sadvice--Byron's debts--The burden of debt--Burns and Sydney Smith--DeFoe and Southey--Southey and Scott--Scott's debts and labours--Greatpoor men--Johnson's advice--Genius and debt--Literary men. Pages259--285

CHAPTER XIV. 

RICHES AND CHARITY. 

Helping the helpless--Dr. Donne--Rich people--Love of gold--Eagerness tobe rich--Riches and poverty--Riches in old age--Riches no claim todistinction--Democrats and riches--Saladin the great--Don Jose deSalamanca--Compensations of poverty--Honest poverty--Poverty andhappiness--Charity--Evils of money-giving--Philanthropy andcharity--Rich people's wills--Stephen Girard--Thomas Guy--Educationalcharities--Peabody's benefaction--Benefactors of the poor--The Navvy'sHome. Pages 286--314

CHAPTER XV. 

HEALTHY HOMES. 

Healthy existence--Necessity for pure air--The fever tax--TheArcadians--The rural poor--Influence of the home--Unhealthyhomes--Health and drunkenness--Wholesome dwellings--EdwinChadwick--Expectancy of life--The poor laws--The sanitary idea--Thesanitary inquiry--Sanitary commission--Sanitary science--Results ofuncleanness--Losses by ill-health--That terrible Nobody!--Homereform--Domestic improvement--Cleanliness--Dirt and immorality--Worshipin washing--Knowledge of physiology--Domestic economy--Englishcookery--Morals and cookery--Work for ladies--Joseph Corbet's story. Pages 315--353

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE ART OF LIVING. 

Art of living exemplified--Taste an economist--Contrasts in cottagelife--Difference in workmen--Living at home--Home andcomfort--Comfortable people--Beneficence of house thrift--Organizationand method--Industry and punctuality--Management of temper--Goodmanners--Habitual politeness--French manners--Happiness in goodmanners--Amusement--Relaxation--Influence of music--Householdelegance--Elegance of flowers--Common enjoyments--Portraits of greatmen--Art at home--Final art of living. Pages 358--378

INDEX 379

A FABLE. 

A grasshopper, half starved with cold and hunger, came to a well-storedbeehive at the approach of winter, and humbly begged the bees to relievehis wants with a few drops of honey. 

One of the bees asked him how he had spent his time all the summer, andwhy he had not laid up a store of food like them. 

"Truly. " said he, "I spent my time very merrily, in drinking, dancing, and singing, and never once thought of winter. "

"Our plan is very different, " said the bee; "we work hard in the summer, to lay by a store of food against the season when we foresee we shallwant it; but those who do nothing but drink, and dance, and sing in thesummer, must expect to starve in the winter. "

THRIFT. 

CHAPTER I. 

INDUSTRY. 

"Not what I have, but what I do, is my kingdom. "--_Carlyle_. 

"Productive industry is the only capital which enriches a people, andspreads national prosperity and well-being. In all labour there isprofit, says Solomon. What is the science of Political Economy, but adull sermon on this text?"--_Samuel Laing_. 

"God provides the good things of the world to serve the needs of nature, by the labours of the ploughman, the skill and pains of the artizan, andthe dangers and traffic of the merchant.... The idle person is like onethat is dead, unconcerned in the changes and necessities of the world;and he only lives to spend his time, and eat the fruits of the earth:like a vermin or a wolf, when their time comes they die and perish, andin the meantime do no good. "--_Jeremy Taylor_. 

"For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. "--_Longfellow_. 

 * * * * *

Thrift began with civilization. It began when men found it necessary toprovide for to-morrow, as well as for to-day. It began long before moneywas invented. 

Thrift means private economy. It includes domestic economy, as well asthe order and management of a family. 

While it is the object of Private Economy to create and promote thewell-being of individuals, it is the object of Political Economy tocreate and increase the wealth of nations. 

Private and public wealth have the same origin. Wealth is obtained bylabour; it is preserved by savings and accumulations; and it isincreased by diligence and perseverance. 

It is the savings of individuals which compose the wealth--in otherwords, the well-being--of every nation. On the other hand, it is thewastefulness of individuals which occasions the impoverishment ofstates. So that every thrifty person may be regarded as a publicbenefactor, and every thriftless person as a public enemy. 

There is no dispute as to the necessity for Private Economy. Everybodyadmits it, and recommends it. But with respect to Political Economy, there are numerous discussions, --for instance, as to the distribution ofcapital, the accumulations of property, the incidence of taxation, thePoor Laws, and other subjects, --into which we do not propose to enter. The subject of Private Economy, of Thrift, is quite sufficient by itselfto occupy the pages of this book. 

Economy is not a natural instinct, but the growth of experience, example, and forethought. It is also the result of education andintelligence. It is only when men become wise and thoughtful that theybecome frugal. Hence the best means of making men and women provident isto make them wise. 

Prodigality is much more natural to man than thrift. The savage is thegreatest of spendthrifts, for he has no forethought, no to-morrow. Theprehistoric man saved nothing. He lived in caves, or in hollows of theground covered with branches. He subsisted on shellfish which he pickedup on the seashore, or upon hips and haws which he gathered in thewoods. He killed animals with stones. He lay in wait for them, or ranthem down on foot. Then he learnt to use stones as tools; making stonearrow-heads and spear-points, thereby utilizing his labour, and killingbirds and animals more quickly. 

The original savage knew nothing of agriculture. It was only incomparatively recent times that men gathered seeds for food, and saved aportion of them for next year's crop. When minerals were discovered, andfire was applied to them, and the minerals were smelted into metal, manmade an immense stride. He could then fabricate hard tools, chiselstone, build houses, and proceed by unwearying industry to devise themanifold means and agencies of civilization. 

The dweller by the ocean burnt a hollow in a felled tree, launched it, went to sea in it, and fished for food. The hollowed tree became a boat, held together with iron nails. The boat became a galley, a ship, apaddle-boat, a screw steamer, and the world was opened up forcolonization and civilization. 

Man would have continued uncivilized, but for the results of the usefullabours of those who preceded him. The soil was reclaimed by hispredecessors, and made to grow food for human uses. They invented toolsand fabrics, and we reap the useful results. They discovered art andscience, and we succeed to the useful effects of their labours. 

All nature teaches that no good thing which has once been done passesutterly away. The living are ever reminded of the buried millions whohave worked and won before them. The handicraft and skill displayed inthe buildings and sculptures of the long-lost cities of Nineveh, Babylon, and Troy, have descended to the present time. In nature'seconomy, no human labour is altogether lost. Some remnant of usefuleffect continues to reward the race, if not the individual. 

The mere material wealth bequeathed to us by our forefathers forms butan insignificant item in the sum of our inheritance. Our birthright ismade up of something far more imperishable. It consists of the sum ofthe useful effects of human skill and labour. These effects were nottransmitted by learning, but by teaching and example. One generationtaught another, and thus art and handicraft, the knowledge of mechanicalappliances and materials, continued to be preserved. The labours andefforts of former generations were thus transmitted by father to son;and they continue to form the natural heritage of the human race--one ofthe most important instruments of civilization. 

Our birthright, therefore, consists in the useful effects of the laboursof our forefathers; but we cannot enjoy them unless we ourselves takepart in the work. All must labour, either with hand or head. Withoutwork, life is worthless; it becomes a mere state of moral coma. We donot mean merely physical work. There is a great deal of higher work--thework of action and endurance, of trial and patience, of enterprise andphilanthropy, of spreading truth and civilization, of diminishingsuffering and relieving the poor, of helping the weak, and enabling themto help themselves. 

"A noble heart, " says Barrow, "will disdain to subsist, like a drone, upon others' labours; like a vermin to filch its food out of the publicgranary; or, like a shark, to prey upon the lesser fry; but it willrather outdo his private obligations to other men's care and toil, byconsiderable service and beneficence to the public; for there is nocalling of any sort, from the sceptre to the spade, the managementwhereof, with any good success, any credit, any satisfaction, doth notdemand much work of the head, or of the hands, or of both. "

Labour is not only a necessity, but it is also a pleasure. What wouldotherwise be a curse, by the constitution of our physical system becomesa blessing. Our life is a conflict with nature in some respects, but itis also a co-operation with nature in others. The sun, the air, and theearth are constantly abstracting from us our vital forces. Hence we eatand drink for nourishment, and clothe ourselves for warmth. 

Nature works with us. She provides the earth which we furrow; she growsand ripens the seeds that we sow and gather. She furnishes, with thehelp of human labour, the wool that we spin and the food that we eat. And it ought never to be forgotten, that however rich or poor we may be, all that we eat, all that we are clothed with, all that shelters us, from the palace to the cottage, is the result of labour. 

Men co-operate with each other for the mutual sustenance of all. Thehusbandman tills the ground and provides food; the manufacturer weavestissues, which the tailor and seamstress make into clothes; the masonand the bricklayer build the houses in which we enjoy household life. Numbers of workmen thus contribute and help to create the generalresult. 

Labour and skill applied to the vulgarest things invest them at oncewith precious value. Labour is indeed the life of humanity; take itaway, banish it, and the race of Adam were at once stricken with death. "He that will not work, " said St. Paul, "neither shall he eat;" and theapostle glorified himself in that he had laboured with his own hands, and had not been chargeable to any man. 

There is a well-known story of an old farmer calling his three idle sonsaround him when on his deathbed, to impart to them an important secret. "My sons, " said he, "a great treasure lies hid in the estate which I amabout to leave to you. " The old man gasped. "Where is it hid?" exclaimedthe sons in a breath. "I am about to tell you, " said the old man; "youwill have to dig for it----" but his breath failed him before he couldimpart the weighty secret; and he died. Forthwith the sons set to workwith spade and mattock upon the long neglected fields, and they turnedup every sod and clod upon the estate. They discovered no treasure, butthey learnt to work; and when fields were sown, and the harvests came, lo! the yield was prodigious, in consequence of the thorough tillagewhich they had undergone. Then it was that they discovered the treasureconcealed in the estate, of which their wise old father had advisedthem. 

Labour is at once a burden, a chastisement, an honour, and a pleasure. It may be identified with poverty, but there is also glory in it. Itbears witness, at the same time, to our natural wants and to ourmanifold needs. What were man, what were life, what were civilization, without labour? All that is great in man comes of labour;--greatness inart, in literature, in science. Knowledge--"the wing wherewith we fly toheaven"--is only acquired through labour. Genius is but a capability oflabouring intensely: it is the power of making great and sustainedefforts. Labour may be a chastisement, but it is indeed a glorious one. It is worship, duty, praise, and immortality, --for those who labour withthe highest aims, and for the purest purposes. 

There are many who murmur and complain at the law of labour under whichwe live, without reflecting that obedience to it is not only inconformity with the Divine will, but also necessary for the developmentof intelligence, and for the thorough enjoyment of our common nature. Ofall wretched men, surely the idle are the most so;--those whose life isbarren of utility, who have nothing to do except to gratify theirsenses. Are not such men the most querulous, miserable, and dissatisfiedof all, constantly in a state of _ennui_, alike useless to themselvesand to others--mere cumberers of the earth, who when removed are missedby none, and whom none regret? Most wretched and ignoble lot, indeed, isthe lot of the idlers. 

Who have helped the world onward so much as the workers; men who havehad to work for necessity or from choice? All that we callprogress--civilization, well-being, and prosperity--depends uponindustry, diligently applied, --from the culture of a barley-stalk, tothe construction of a steamship, --from the stitching of a collar, to thesculpturing of "the statue that enchants the world. "

All useful and beautiful thoughts, in like manner, are the issue oflabour, of study, of observation, of research, of diligent elaboration. The noblest poem cannot be elaborated, and send down its undying strainsinto the future, without steady and painstaking labour. No great workhas ever been done "at a heat. " It is the result of repeated efforts, and often of many failures. One generation begins, and anothercontinues--the present co-operating with the past. Thus, the Parthenonbegan with a mud-hut; the Last Judgment with a few scratches on thesand. It is the same with individuals of the race; they begin withabortive efforts, which, by means of perseverance, lead to successfulissues. 

The history of industry is uniform in the character of itsillustrations. Industry enables the poorest man to achieve honour, ifnot distinction. The greatest names in the history of art, literature, and science, are those of labouring men. A working instrument-maker gaveus the steam-engine; a barber, the spinning-machine; a weaver, the mule;a pitman perfected the locomotive;--and working men of all grades have, one after another, added to the triumphs of mechanical skill. 

By the working man, we do not mean merely the man who labours with hismuscles and sinews. A horse can do this. But _he_ is pre-eminently theworking man who works with his brain also, and whose whole physicalsystem is under the influence of his higher faculties. The man whopaints a picture, who writes a book, who makes a law, who creates apoem, is a working man of the highest order, --not so necessary to thephysical sustainment of the community as the ploughman or the shepherd;but not less important as providing for society its highest intellectualnourishment. 

Having said so much of the importance and the necessity of industry, letus see what uses are made of the advantages derivable from it. It isclear that man would have continued uncivilized but for theaccumulations of savings made by his forefathers, --the savings of skill, of art, of invention, and of intellectual culture. 

It is the savings of the world that have made the civilization of theworld. Savings are the result of labour; and it is only when labourersbegin to save, that the results of civilization accumulate. We have saidthat thrift began with civilization: we might almost have said thatthrift produced civilization. Thrift produces capital; and capital isthe conserved result of labour. The capitalist is merely a man who doesnot spend all that is earned by work. 

But thrift is not a natural instinct. It is an acquired principle ofconduct. It involves self-denial--the denial of present enjoyment forfuture, good--the subordination of animal appetite to reason, forethought, and prudence. It works for to-day, but also provides forto-morrow. It invests the capital it has saved, and makes provision forthe future. 

"Man's right of seeing the future, " says Mr. Edward Denison, "which isconferred on him by reason, has attached to it the duty of providing forthat future; and our language bears witness to this truth by using, asexpressive of active precaution against future want, a word which in itsradical meaning implies only a passive foreknowledge of the same. Whenever we speak of the _virtue of providence_, we assume thatforewarned is fore-armed, To know the future is no virtue, but it is thegreatest of virtues to prepare for it. "[1]

[Footnote 1: _Letters of the late Edward Denison. _ p. 240. ]

But a large proportion of men do not provide for the future. They do notremember the past. They think only of the present. They preservenothing. They spend all that they earn. They do not provide forthemselves: they do not provide for their families. They may make highwages, but eat and drink the whole of what they earn. Such people areconstantly poor, and hanging on the verge of destitution. 

It is the same with nations. The nations which consume all that theyproduce, without leaving a store for future production, have no capital. Like thriftless individuals, they live from hand to mouth, and arealways poor and miserable. Nations that have no capital, have nocommerce. They have no accumulations to dispose of; hence they have noships, no sailors, no docks, no harbours, no canals, and no railways. Thrifty industry lies at the root of the civilization of the world. 

Look at Spain. There, the richest soil is the least productive. Alongthe banks of the Guadalquiver, where once twelve thousand villagesexisted, there are now not eight hundred; and they are full of beggars. A Spanish proverb says, "El cielo y suelo es bueno, el entresuelomalo"--The sky is good, the earth is good; that only is bad which liesbetween the sky and the earth. Continuous effort, or patient labour, isfor the Spaniard an insupportable thing. Half through indolence, halfthrough pride, he cannot bend to work. A Spaniard will blush to work; hewill not blush to beg![2]

[Footnote 2: EUGENE POITOU--_Spain and its People. _ pp. 184--188. ]

It is in this way that society mainly consists of two classes--thesavers and the wasters, the provident and the improvident, the thriftyand the thriftless, the Haves and the Have-nots. The men who economizeby means of labour become the owners of capital which sets other labourin motion. Capital accumulates in their hands, and they employ otherlabourers to work for them. Thus trade and commerce begin. 

The thrifty build houses, warehouses, and mills. They fit manufactorieswith tools and machines. They build ships, and send them to variousparts of the world. They put their capital together, and buildrailroads, harbours, and docks. They open up mines of coal, iron, andcopper; and erect pumping engines to keep them clear of water. Theyemploy labourers to work the mines, and thus give rise to an immenseamount of employment. 

All this is the result of thrift. It is the result of economizing money, and employing it for beneficial purposes. The thriftless man has noshare in the progress of the world. He spends all that he gets, and cangive no help to anybody. No matter how much money he makes, his positionis not in any respect raised. He husbands none of his resources. He isalways calling for help. He is, in fact, the born thrall and slave ofthe thrifty. 

CHAPTER II. 

HABITS OF THRIFT. 

"Die Hauptsache ist dass man lerne sich selbst zu beherrschen. " [Thegreat matter is to learn to rule oneself. ]--_Goethe_. 

"Most men work for the present, a few for the future. The wise work forboth--for the future in the present, and for the present in thefuture. "--_Guesses at Truth_. 

"The secret of all success is to know how to deny yourself.... If youonce learn to get the whip-hand of yourself, that is the best educator. Prove to me that you can control yourself, and I'll say you're aneducated man; and without this, all other education is good for next tonothing. "--_Mrs. Oliphant_. 

"All the world cries, 'Where is the man who will save us? We want a man!Don't look so far for this man. You have him at hand. This man--it isyou, it is I, it is each one of us! ... How to constitute oneself a man?Nothing harder, if one knows not how to _will_ it; nothing easier, ifone wills it. "--_Alexandre Dumas_. 

Competence and comfort lie within the reach of most people, were they totake the adequate means to secure and enjoy them. Men who are paid goodwages might also become capitalists, and take their fair share in theimprovement and well-being of the world. But it is only by the exerciseof labour, energy, honesty, and thrift, that they can advance their ownposition or that of their class. 

Society at present suffers far more from waste of money than from wantof money. It is easier to make money than to know how to spend it. It isnot what a man gets that constitutes his wealth, but his manner ofspending and economizing. And when a man obtains by his labour more thanenough for his personal and family wants, and can lay by a little storeof savings besides, he unquestionably possesses the elements of socialwell-being. The savings may amount to little, but they may be sufficientto make him independent. 

There is no reason why the highly-paid workman of to-day may not save astore of capital. It is merely a matter of self-denial and privateeconomy. Indeed, the principal industrial leaders of to-day consist, forthe most part, of men who have sprung directly from the ranks. It is theaccumulation of experience and skill that makes the difference betweenthe workman and the _no_-workman; and it depends upon the workmanhimself whether he will save his capital or waste it. If he save it, hewill always find that he has sufficient opportunities for employing itprofitably and usefully. 

"When I was down in Lancashire the other day, " said Mr. Cobden to hisfellow-townsmen at Midhurst, "I visited a mill, in company with someother gentlemen, and that mill belonged to a person whose real name Iwill not mention, but whom for the present purpose I will call Mr. Smith. There could not have been less than three or four thousandpersons engaged in this mill when it was at work, and there were sevenhundred power-looms under one roof. As we were coming away, one of thefriends who accompanied me patted the owner of the mill on the shoulder, and with that frank and manly familiarity which rather distinguishes theLancashire race, he said, 'Mr. Smith was a working man himselftwenty-five years ago, and he owes all this entirely to his own industryand frugality. ' To which Mr. Smith immediately replied, in the samefrank and good-humoured manner, 'Nay, I do not owe it all to myself; Imarried a wife with a fortune; for she was earning 9_s_ 6_d_. A week asa weaver at the power-loom, when she married me. '"

Thrift of Time is equal to thrift of money. Franklin said, "Time isgold. " If one wishes to earn money, it may be done by the proper use oftime. But time may also be spent in doing many good and noble actions. It may be spent in learning, in study, in art, in science, inliterature. Time can be economized by system. System is an arrangementto secure certain ends, so that no time may be lost in accomplishingthem. Every business man must be systematic and orderly. So must everyhousewife. There must be a place for everything, and everything in itsplace. There must also be a time for everything, and everything must bedone in time. 

It is not necessary to show that economy is useful. Nobody denies thatthrift may be practised. We see numerous examples of it. What many menhave already done, all other men _may_ do. Nor is thrift a painfulvirtue. On the contrary, it enables us to avoid much contempt and manyindignities. It requires us to deny ourselves, but not to abstain fromany proper enjoyment. It provides many honest pleasures, of whichthriftlessness and extravagance deprive us. 

Let no man say that he cannot economize. There are few persons who couldnot contrive to save a few shillings weekly. In twenty years, threeshillings saved weekly would amount to two hundred and forty pounds; andin ten years more, by addition of interest, to four hundred and twentypounds. Some may say that they cannot save nearly so much. Well! beginwith two shillings, one shilling, or even sixpence. Begin somewhere;but, at all events, make a beginning. Sixpence a week, deposited in thesavings bank, will amount to forty pounds in twenty years, and seventypounds in thirty years. It is the _habit_ of economizing and denyingoneself that needs to be formed. 

Thrift does not require superior courage, nor superior intellect, norany superhuman virtue. It merely requires common sense, and the power ofresisting selfish enjoyments. In fact, thrift is merely common sense inevery-day working action. It needs no fervent resolution, but only alittle patient self-denial. BEGIN is its device! The more the habit ofthrift is practised, the easier it becomes; and the sooner itcompensates the self-denier for the sacrifices which it has imposed. 

The question may be asked, --Is it possible for a man working for smallwages to save anything, and lay it by in a savings bank, when herequires every penny for the maintenance of his family? But the factremains, that it _is_ done by many industrious and sober men; that theydo deny themselves, and put their spare earnings into savings banks, andthe other receptacles provided for poor men's savings. And if some cando this, all may do it under similar circumstances, --without deprivingthemselves of any genuine pleasure, or any real enjoyment. 

How intensely selfish is it for a person in the receipt of good pay tospend everything upon himself, --or, if he has a family, to spend hiswhole earnings from week to week, and lay nothing by. When we hear thata man, who has been in the receipt of a good salary, has died and leftnothing behind him--that he has left his wife and family destitute--leftthem to chance--to live or perish anywhere, --we cannot but regard it asthe most selfish thriftlessness. And yet, comparatively little isthought of such cases. Perhaps the hat goes round. Subscriptions mayproduce something--perhaps nothing; and the ruined remnants of theunhappy family sink into poverty and destitution. 

Yet the merest prudence would, to a great extent, have obviated thisresult. The curtailment of any sensual and selfish enjoyment--of a glassof beer or a screw of tobacco--would enable a man, in the course ofyears, to save at least something for others, instead of wasting it onhimself. It is, in fact, the absolute duty of the poorest man toprovide, in however slight a degree, for the support of himself and hisfamily in the season of sickness and helplessness which often comes uponmen when they least expect such a visitation. 

Comparatively few people can be rich; but most have it in their power toacquire, by industry and economy, sufficient to meet their personalwants. They may even become the possessors of savings sufficient tosecure them against penury and poverty in their old age. It is not, however, the want of opportunity, but the want of will, that stands inthe way of economy. Men may labour unceasingly with hand or head; butthey cannot abstain from spending too freely, and living too highly. 

The majority prefer the enjoyment of pleasure to the practice ofself-denial. With the mass of men, the animal is paramount. They oftenspend all that they earn. But it is not merely the working people whoare spendthrifts. We hear of men who for years have been earning andspending hundreds a year, who suddenly die, --leaving their childrenpenniless. Everybody knows of such cases. At their death, the veryfurniture of the house they have lived in belongs to others. It is soldto pay their funeral expenses and debts which they have incurred duringtheir thriftless lifetime. 

Money represents a multitude of objects without value, or without realutility; but it also represents something much more precious, --and thatis independence. In this light it is of great moral importance. 

As a guarantee of independence, the modest and plebeian quality ofeconomy is at once ennobled and raised to the rank of one of the mostmeritorious of virtues. "Never treat money affairs with levity, " saidBulwer; "Money is Character. " Some of man's best qualities depend uponthe right use of money, --such as his generosity, benevolence, justice, honesty, and forethought. Many of his worst qualities also originate inthe bad use of money, --such as greed, miserliness, injustice, extravagance, and improvidence. 

No class ever accomplished anything that lived from hand to mouth. People who spend all that they earn, are ever hanging on the brink ofdestitution. They must necessarily be weak and impotent--the slaves oftime and circumstance. They keep themselves poor. They loseself-respect, as well as the respect of others. It is impossible thatthey can be free and independent. To be thriftless, is enough to depriveone of all manly spirit and virtue. 

But a man with something saved, no matter how little, is in a differentposition. The little capital he has stored up, is always a source ofpower. He is no longer the sport of time and fate. He can boldly lookthe world in the face. He is, in a manner, his own master. He candictate his own terms. He can neither be bought nor sold. He can lookforward with cheerfulness to an old age of comfort and happiness. 

As men become wise and thoughtful, they generally become provident andfrugal. A thoughtless man, like a savage, spends as he gets, thinkingnothing of to-morrow, of the time of adversity, or of the claims ofthose whom he has made dependent on him. But a wise man thinks of thefuture; he prepares in good time for the evil day that may come upon himand his family; and he provides carefully for those who are near anddear to him. 

What a serious responsibility does the man incur who marries! Not manyseriously think, of this responsibility. Perhaps this is wisely ordered. For, much serious thinking might end in the avoidance of married lifeand its responsibilities. But, once married, a man ought forthwith todetermine that, so far as his own efforts are concerned, want shallnever enter his household; and that his children shall not, in the eventof his being removed from the scene of life and labour, be left aburthen upon society. 

Economy with this object is an important duty. Without economy, no mancan be just--no man can be honest. Improvidence is cruelty to women andchildren; though the cruelty is born of ignorance. A father spends hissurplus means in drink, providing little, and saving nothing; and thenhe dies, leaving his destitute family his lifelong victims. Can any formof cruelty surpass this? Yet this reckless course is pursued to a largeextent among every class. The middle and upper classes are equallyguilty with the lower class. They live beyond their means. They liveextravagantly. They are ambitious of glare and glitter--frivolity andpleasure. They struggle to be rich, that they may have the means ofspending, --of drinking rich wines, and giving good dinners. 

When Mr. Hume said in the House of Commons, some years ago, that thetone of living in England was altogether too high, his observation wasfollowed with "loud laughter. " Yet his remark was perfectly true. It isfar more true now than it was then. Thinking people believe that life isnow too fast, and that we are living at high-pressure. In short, we liveextravagantly. We live beyond our means. We throw away oar earnings, andoften throw our lives after them. 

Many persons are diligent enough in making money, but do not know how toeconomize it, --or how to spend it. They have sufficient skill andindustry to do the one, but they want the necessary wisdom to do theother. The temporary passion for enjoyment seizes us, and we give way toit without regard to consequences. And yet it may be merely the resultof forgetfulness, and might be easily controlled by firmness of will, and by energetic resolution to avoid the occasional causes ofexpenditure for the future. The habit of saving arises, for the mostpart, in the desire to ameliorate our social condition, as well as toameliorate the condition of those who are dependent upon us. Itdispenses with everything which is not essential, and avoids all methodsof living that are wasteful and extravagant. A purchase made at thelowest price will be dear, if it be a superfluity. Little expenses leadto great. Buying things that are not wanted, soon accustoms us toprodigality in other respects. 

Cicero said, "Not to have a mania for buying, is to possess a revenue. "Many are carried away by the habit of bargain-buying. "Here is somethingwonderfully cheap: let us buy it. " "Have you any use for it?" "No, notat present; but it is sure to come in useful, some time. " Fashion runsin this habit of buying. Some buy old china--as much as will furnish achina-shop. Others buy old pictures--old furniture--old wines, --allgreat bargains! There would be little harm in buying these old things, if they were not so often bought at the expense of the connoisseur'screditors. Horace Walpole once said, "I hope that there will not beanother sale, for I have not an inch of room nor a farthing left. "

Men must prepare in youth and in middle age the means of enjoying oldage pleasantly and happily. There can be nothing more distressing thanto see an old man who has spent the greater part of his life inwell-paid-for-labour, reduced to the necessity of begging for bread, andrelying entirely on the commiseration of his neighbours, or upon thebounty of strangers. Such a consideration as this should inspire men inearly life with a determination to work and to save, for the benefit ofthemselves and their families in later years. 

It is, in fact, in youth that economy should be practised, and in oldage that men should dispense liberally, provided they do not exceedtheir income. The young man has a long future before him, during whichhe may exercise the principles of economy; whilst the other is reachingthe end of his career, and can carry nothing out of the world with him. 

This, however, is not the usual practice. The young man now spends, ordesires to spend, quite as liberally, and often much more liberally, than his father, who is about to end his career. He begins life wherehis father left off. He spends more than his father did at his age, andsoon finds himself up to his ears in debt. To satisfy his incessantwants, he resorts to unscrupulous means, and to illicit gains. He triesto make money rapidly; he speculates, over-trades, and is speedily woundup. Thus he obtains experience; but it is the result, not of well-doing, but of ill-doing. 

Socrates recommends fathers of families to observe the practice of theirthrifty neighbours--of those who spend their means to the bestadvantage, --and to profit by their example. Thrift is essentiallypractical, and can best be taught by facts. Two men earn, say, fiveshillings a day. They are in precisely the same condition as respectsfamily living, and expenditure Yet the one says he cannot save, and doesnot; while the other says he can save, and regularly deposits part ofhis savings in a savings bank, and eventually becomes a capitalist. 

Samuel Johnson fully knew the straits of poverty. He once signed hisname _Impransus_, or _Dinnerless_. He had walked the streets withSavage, not knowing where to lay his head at night. Johnson never forgotthe poverty through which he passed in his early life, and he was alwayscounselling his friends and readers to avoid it. Like Cicero, he averredthat the best source of wealth or well-being was economy. He called itthe daughter of Prudence, the sister of Temperance, and the mother ofLiberty. His mind, his character. Self-respect, originating inself-love, instigates the first step of improvement. It stimulates a manto rise, to look upward, to develop his intelligence, to improve hiscondition. Self-respect is the root of most of the virtues--ofcleanliness, chastity, reverence, honesty, sobriety. To think meanly ofone's self is to sink; sometimes to descend a precipice at the bottom ofwhich is infamy. 

Every man can help himself to some extent. We are not mere straws thrownupon the current to mark its course; but possessed of freedom of action, endowed with power to stem the waves and rise above them, each markingout a course for himself. We can each elevate ourselves in the scale ofmoral being. We can cherish pure thoughts. We can perform good actions. We can live soberly and frugally. We can provide against the evil day. We can read good books, listen to wise teachers, and place ourselvesunder the divinest influences on earth. We can live for the highestpurposes, and with the highest aims in view. 

"Self-love and social are the same, " says one of our poets. The man whoimproves himself, improves the world. He adds one more true man to themass. And the mass being made up of individuals, it is clear that wereeach to improve himself, the result would be the improvement of thewhole. Social advancement is the consequence of individual advancement. The whole cannot be pure, unless the individuals composing it are pure. Society at large is but the reflex of individual conditions. All this isbut the repetition of a truism, but truisms have often to be repeated tomake their full impression. 

Then again, a man, when he has improved himself, is better able toimprove those who are brought into contact with him. He has more power. His sphere of vision is enlarged. He sees more clearly the defects inthe condition of others that might be remedied. He can lend a moreactive helping hand to raise them. He has done his duty by himself, andcan with more authority urge upon others the necessity of doing the likeduty to themselves. How can a man be a social elevator, who is himselfwalking in the mire of self-indulgence? How can he teach sobriety orcleanliness, if he be himself drunken or foul? "Physician, healthyself, " is the answer of his neighbours. 

The sum and substance of our remarks is this: In all the individualreforms or improvements that we desire, we must begin with ourselves. Wemust exhibit our gospel in our own life. We must teach by our ownexample. If we would have others elevated, we must elevate ourselves. Each man can exhibit the results in his own person. He can begin withself-respect. 

The uncertainty of life is a strong inducement to provide against theevil day. To do this is a moral and social, as well as a religious duty. "He that provideth not for his own, and especially for those of his ownhousehold, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel. "

The uncertainty of life is proverbially true. The strongest andhealthiest man may be stricken down in a moment, by accident or disease. If we take human life in the mass, we cannot fail to recognize theuncertainty of life as much as we do the certainty of death. 

There is a striking passage in Addison's "Vision of Mirza, " in whichlife is pictured as a passage over a bridge of about a hundred arches. Ablack cloud hangs over each end of the bridge. At the entrance to itthere are hidden pitfalls very thickly set, through which throngsdisappear, so soon as they have placed their feet upon the bridge. Theygrow thinner towards the centre; they gradually disappear; until atlength only a few persons reach the further side, and these also havingdropped through the pitfalls, the bridge at its further extremitybecomes entirely clear. The description of Addison corresponds with theresults of the observations made as to the duration of human life. 

Thus, of a hundred thousand persons born in this country, it has beenascertained that a fourth of them die before they have reached theirfifth year; and one-half before they have reached their fiftieth year. One thousand one hundred will reach their ninetieth year. Sixteen willlive to a hundred. And only two persons out of the hundredthousand--like the last barks of an innumerable convoy, will reach theadvanced and helpless age of a hundred and five years. 

Two things are very obvious, --the uncertainty as to the hour of death inindividuals, but the regularity and constancy of the circumstances whichinfluence the duration of human life in the aggregate. It is a matter ofcertainty that the _average_ life of all persons born in this countryextends to about forty-five years. This has been proved by a very largenumber of observations of human life and its duration. 

Equally extensive observations have been made as to the average numberof persons of various ages who die yearly. It is always the number ofthe experiments which gives the law of the probability. It is on suchobservations that the actuary founds his estimates of the mortality thatexists at any given period of life. The actuary tells you that he hasbeen guided by the Laws of Mortality. Now the results must be veryregular, to justify the actuary in speaking of Mortality as governed byLaws. And yet it is so. 

Indeed, there would seem to be no such thing as chance in the world. Manlives and dies in conformity to a law. A sparrow falls to the ground inobedience to a law. Nay, there are matters in the ordinary transactionsof life, such as one might suppose were the mere result of chance, whichare ascertained to be of remarkable accuracy when taken in the mass. Forinstance, the number of letters put in the post-office without anaddress; the number of letters wrongly directed; the number containingmoney; the number unstamped; continue nearly the same, in relation tothe number of letters posted, from one year to another. 

Now it is the business of man to understand the laws of health, and toprovide against their consequences, --as, for instance, in the matter ofsickness, accident, and premature death. We cannot escape theconsequences of transgression of the natural laws, though we may havemeant well. We must have done well. The Creator does not alter His lawsto accommodate them to our ignorance. He has furnished us withintelligence, so that we may understand them and act upon them:otherwise we must suffer the consequences in inevitable pain and sorrow. 

We often hear the cry raised, "Will nobody help us?" It is a spiritless, hopeless cry. It is sometimes a cry of revolting meanness, especiallywhen it issues from those who with a little self-denial, sobriety, andthrift, might easily help themselves. 

Many people have yet to learn, that virtue, knowledge, freedom, andprosperity must spring from themselves. Legislation can do very littlefor them: it cannot make them sober, intelligent, and well-doing. Theprime miseries of most men have their origin in causes far removed fromActs of Parliament. 

The spendthrift laughs at legislation. The drunkard defies it, andarrogates the right of dispensing with forethought andself-denial, --throwing upon others the blame of his ultimatewretchedness. The mob orators, who gather "the millions" about them, arevery wide of the mark, when, instead of seeking to train their crowd ofhearers to habits of frugality, temperance, and self-culture, theyencourage them to keep up the cry, "Will nobody help us?"

The cry sickens the soul. It shows gross ignorance of the first elementsof personal welfare. Help is in men themselves. They were born to helpand to elevate themselves. They must work out their own salvation. Thepoorest men have done it; why should not every man do it? The brave, upward spirit ever conquers. 

The number of well-paid workmen in this country has become very large, who might easily save and economize, to the improvement of their moralwell-being, of their respectability and independence, and of theirstatus in society as men and citizens. They are improvident andthriftless to an extent which proves not less hurtful to their personalhappiness and domestic comfort, than it is injurious to the society ofwhich they form so important a part. 

In "prosperous times" they spend their gains recklessly, and whenadverse times come, they are at once plunged in misery. Money is notused, but abused; and when wage-earning people should be providingagainst old age, or for the wants of a growing family, they are, in toomany cases, feeding folly, dissipation, and vice. Let no one say thatthis is an exaggerated picture. It is enough to look round in anyneighbourhood, and see how much is spent and how little is saved; what alarge proportion of earnings goes to the beershop, and how little to thesavings bank or the benefit society. 

"Prosperous times" are very often the least prosperous of all times. Inprosperous times, mills are working full time; men, women, and childrenare paid high wages; warehouses are emptied and filled; goods aremanufactured and exported; wherries full of produce pass along thestreets; immense luggage trains run along the railways, andheavily-laden ships leave our shores daily for foreign ports, full ofthe products of our industry. Everybody seems to be becoming richer andmore prosperous. But we do not think of whether men and women arebecoming wiser, better trained, less self-indulgent, more religiouslydisposed, or living for any higher purpose than the satisfaction of theanimal appetite. 

If this apparent prosperity be closely examined, it will be found thatexpenditure is increasing in all directions. There are demands forhigher wages; and the higher wages, when obtained, are spent as soon asearned. Intemperate habits are formed, and, once formed, the habit ofintemperance continues. Increased wages, instead of being saved, are forthe most part spent in drink. 

Thus, when a population is thoughtless and improvident, no kind ofmaterial prosperity will benefit them. Unless they exercise forethoughtand economy, they will alternately be in a state of "hunger and burst. "When trade falls off, as it usually does after exceptional prosperity, they will not be comforted by the thought of what they _might_ havesaved, had it ever occurred to them that the "prosperous times" mightnot have proved permanent. 

During prosperous times, Saint Monday is regularly observed. The BankHoliday is repeated weekly. "Where are all the workmen?" said a masterto his foreman on going the rounds among his builders, --this work mustbe pushed on and covered in while the fine weather lasts. " "Why, sir, "said the foreman, "this is Monday; and they have not spent all theirmoney yet. " Dean Boyd, preaching at Exeter on behalf of the Devonshirehospitals, expressed his belief that the annual loss to the workpeopleengaged in the woollen manufacture, the cotton trade, the bricklayingand building trade, by Idle Monday, amounted to over seven millionssterling. If man's chief end were to manufacture cloth, silk, cotton, hardware, toys, and china; to buy in the cheapest market, and to sell inthe dearest; to cultivate land, grow corn, and graze cattle; to live formere money profit, and hoard or spend, as the case might be, we mightthen congratulate ourselves upon our National Prosperity. But is thisthe chief end of man? Has he not faculties, affections, and sympathies, besides muscular organs? Has not his mind and heart certain claims, aswell as his mouth and his back? Has he not a soul as well as a stomach?And ought not "prosperity" to include the improvement and well-being ofhis morals and intellect as well as of his bones and muscles?

Mere money is no indication of prosperity. A man's nature may remain thesame. It may even grow more stunted and deformed, while he is doublinghis expenditure, or adding cent, per cent, to his hoards yearly. It isthe same with the mass. The increase of their gains may merely furnishthem with increased means for gratifying animal indulgences, unlesstheir moral character keeps pace with their physical advancement. Doublethe gains of an uneducated, overworked man, in a time of prosperity, andwhat is the result? Simply that you have furnished him with the means ofeating and drinking more! Thus, not even the material well-being of thepopulation is secured by that condition of things which is defined bypolitical economists as "National Prosperity. " And so long as the moralelements of the question are ignored, this kind of "prosperity" is, webelieve, calculated to produce far more mischievous results than good. It is knowledge and virtue alone that can confer dignity on a man'slife; and the growth of such qualities in a nation are the only truemarks of its real prosperity; not the infinite manufacture and sale ofcotton prints, toys, hardware, and crockery. The Bishop of Manchester, when preaching at a harvest thanksgiving near Preston, referred to aletter which he had received from a clergyman in the south of England, who, after expressing his pleasure at the fact that the agriculturallabourers were receiving higher wages, lamented "that at present theonly result he could discover from their higher wages was that a greatdeal _more beer_ was consumed. If this was the use we were making ofthis prosperity, we could hardly call it a blessing for which we had aright or ground to thank God. The true prosperity of the nationconsisted not so much in the fact that the nation was growing inwealth--though wealth was a necessary attribute of prosperity--but thatit was growing in virtue; and that there was a more equable distributionof comfort, contentment, and the things of this lower world. "

In making the preceding observations we do not in the least advocate theformation of miserly, penurious habits; for we hate the scrub, thescrew, the miser. All that we contend for is, that man should providefor the future, --that they should provide during good times for the badtimes which almost invariably follow them, --that they should lay by astore of savings as a breakwater against want, and make sure of a littlefund which may maintain them in old age, secure their self-respect, andadd to their personal comfort and social well-being. Thrift is not inany way connected with avarice, usury, greed, or selfishness. It is, infact, the very reverse of these disgusting dispositions. 

It means economy for the purpose of securing independence. Thriftrequires that money should be used and not abused--that it should behonestly earned and economically employed--

"Not for to put it in a hedge, Not for a train attendent, -- But for the glorious privilege Of being Independent. "

CHAPTER III. 

IMPROVIDENCE. 

"The man who has a wife and children has given hostages tofortune. "--_Lord Bacon. _

"In all conditions and circumstances, well-being is in the power ofthose who have power over themselves. "--_J. J. Gurney_. 

"Where is their common sense? Alas, what imprudence! Early marriages;many children; poor-rates, and the workhouse.... They are born; they arewretched; they die.... In no foreign country of far less civilizationthan England, is there the same improvidence. "--_Lord Lytton_. 

"No man oppresses thee, O free and independent franchiser; but does notthis stupid pewter pot oppress thee? No son of Adam can bid thee come orgo, but this absurd pot of heavy-wet can and does, Thou art the thrall, not of Cedric the Saxon, but of thy own brutal appetites, and thisaccursed dish of liquor. And thou pratest of thy 'liberty, ' thou entireblockhead!"--_Carlyle_. 

"Never did any publike misery Rise of it selfe; God's plagues still grounded are On common staines of our Humanity: And to the flame, which ruineth Mankind, Man gives the matter, or at least gives winde. "--_Daniell_. 

England is one of the richest countries in the world. Our merchants areenterprising, our manufacturers are industrious, our labourers arehard-working. There is an accumulation of wealth in the country to whichpast times can offer no parallel. The Bank is gorged with gold. Therenever was more food in the empire; there never was more money. There isno end to our manufacturing productions, for the steam-engine nevertires. And yet notwithstanding all this wealth, there is an enormousmass of poverty. Close alongside the Wealth of Nations, there gloomilystalks the Misery of Nations, --luxurious ease resting upon a darkbackground of wretchedness. 

Parliamentary reports have again and again revealed to us the miseriesendured by certain portions of our working population. They havedescribed the people employed in factories, workshops, mines, andbrickfields, as well as in the pursuits of country life. We have triedto grapple with the evils of their condition by legislation, but itseems to mock us. Those who sink into poverty are fed, but they remainpaupers. Those who feed them, feel no compassion; and those who are fed, return no gratitude. There is no bond of sympathy between the givers andthe receivers. Thus the Haves and the Have-nots, the opulent and theindigent, stand at the two extremes of the social scale, and a wide gulfis fixed between them. 

Among rude and savage people, the condition of poverty is uniform. Provided the bare appetites are satisfied, suffering is scarcely felt. Where slavery exists, indigence is little known; for it is the master'sinterest to keep the slave in a condition fit for labour, and theemployer generally takes care to supply the animal wants of theemployed. It is only when society becomes civilized and free, and manenters into competition with his fellows, that he becomes exposed toindigence, and experiences social misery. Where civilization, as in thiscountry, has reached its highest point, and where large accumulations ofwealth have been made, the misery of the indigent classes is onlyrendered more acute by the comfort and luxury with which it is placed inimmediate contrast. 

Much of the existing misery is caused by selfishness--by the greed toaccumulate wealth on the one hand, and by improvidence on the other. Accumulation of money has become the great desire and passion of theage. The wealth of nations, and not the happiness of nations, is theprincipal aim. We study political economy, and let social economy shiftfor itself. Regard for "Number One" is the prevailing maxim. 

High profits are regarded as the _summum bonum_, --no matter howobtained, or at what sacrifice. Money is our god: "Devil take thehindmost" our motto. The spirits of darkness rule supreme--

 "Mammon has led them on, Mammon, the least erect of all the spiritsThat fell from Heaven. "

With respect to the poorer classes, --what has become of them in themidst of our so-called civilization? An immense proportion of themremain entirely uncivilized. Though living in a Christian country, Christianity has never reached them. They are as uncivilized andunchristianized as the Trinobantes were at the landing of Julius Caesar, about nineteen hundred years ago. Yet these uncivilized people live inour midst. St. James's and St. Giles's lie close together. In the Parksof London, you may see how gold is worshipped; in the East End ofLondon, you may see to what depths human misery may fall. 

They work, eat, drink, and sleep: that constitutes their life. Theythink nothing of providing for to-morrow, or for next week, or for nextyear. They abandon themselves to their sensual appetites; and make noprovision whatever for the future. The thought of adversity, or ofcoming sorrow, or of the helplessness that comes with years andsickness, never crosses their minds. In these respects, they resemblethe savage tribes, who know no better, and do no worse. Like the NorthAmerican Indians, they debase themselves by the vices which accompanycivilization, but make no use whatever of its benefits and advantages. 

Captain Parry found the Esquimaux near the North Pole as uncivilized asthe miserable creatures who inhabit the dens of our great cities. Theywere, of course, improvident; for, like savages generally, they neversave. They were always either feasting or famished. 

When they found a quantity of whale's blubber, they would eat as much ofit as they could, and hide the rest. Yet their improvidence gave them noconcern. Even when they had been without food or fuel for days together, they would be as gay and good-humoured as usual. They never thought ofhow they should be provided for to-morrow. Saving for the future formsno part of the savage economy. 

Amongst civilized peoples, cold is said to be the parent of frugality. Thus the northern nations of Europe owe a portion of their prosperity tothe rigour of their climate. Cold makes them save during summer, toprovide food, coal, and clothing during winter. It encourageshouse-building and housekeeping. Hence Germany is more industrious thanSicily; Holland and Belgium than Andalusia; North America and Canadathan Mexico. 

When the late Edward Denison, M. P. For Newark, with unexampledself-denial, gave up a large portion of his time and labour to reclaimthe comparatively uncivilized population of the East End of London, thefirst thing he did was to erect an iron church of two stories, the lowerpart of which was used as a school and lecture room, and also as a clubwhere men and boys might read, play games, and do anything else thatmight keep them out of the drinking-houses. "What is so bad in thisquarter, " said Mr. Denison, "is the habitual condition of this mass ofhumanity--its uniform mean level, the absence of anything morecivilizing than a grinding organ to raise the ideas beyond the dailybread and beer, the utter want of education, the complete indifferenceto religion, with the fruits of all this--improvidence, dirt, and theirsecondaries, crime and disease.... There is no one to give a push tostruggling energy, to guide aspiring intelligence, or to break the fallof unavoidable misfortune.... The Mission Clergyman, " he goes on to say, "is a sensible, energetic man, in whose hands the work of _civilizingthe people_ is making as much progress as can be expected. But most ofhis energy is taken up in serving tables, nor can any great advance bemade while every nerve has to be strained to keep the people fromabsolute starvation. And this is what happens every winter.... What amonstrous thing it is that in the richest country in the world, largemasses of the population should be condemned annually, by a naturaloperation of nature, to starvation and death. It is all very well tosay, how can it be helped? Why, it was not so in our grandfathers' time. Behind us they were in many ways, but they were not met every winterwith the spectacle of starving thousands. The fact is, we have acceptedthe marvellous prosperity which has in the last twenty years beengranted us, without reflecting on the conditions attached to it, andwithout nerving ourselves to the exertion and the sacrifices which theirfulfilment demands. "

And yet Mr. Denison clearly saw that if the people were sufficientlyeducated, and taught to practise the virtue of Thrift, much of thismisery might be prevented. "The people, " he elsewhere says, "_create_their destitution and their disease. Probably there are hardly any ofthe most needy who, if they had been only moderately frugal andprovident, could not have placed themselves in a position to tide overthe occasional months of want of work, or of sickness, which therealways must be.... I do not underrate the difficulty of laying by out ofweekly earnings, but I say it _can_ be done. A dock-labourer, while ayoung, strong, unmarried man, could lay by half his weekly wages, andsuch men are almost sure of constant employment. "

After showing how married men might also save, Mr. Denison goes on tosay, "Saving is within the reach of nearly every man, even if quite atthe bottom of the tree; but if it were of anything like _common_occurrence, the destitution and disease of this city would be keptwithin quite manageable limits. And this will take place. I may not liveto see it, but it will be within two generations. For, unfortunately, this amount of change may be effected without the least improvement inthe spiritual condition of the people. Good laws, energeticallyenforced, with compulsory education, supplemented by gratuitousindividual exertion (which will then have a much reduced field and muchfairer prospects), will certainly succeed in giving the mass of thepeople so much light as will generally guide them into so much industryand morality as is clearly conducive to their bodily ease andadvancement in life. "

The difference in thriftiness between the English workpeople and theinhabitants of Guernsey is thus referred to by Mr. Denison: "Thedifference between poverty and pauperism is brought home to us verystrongly by what I see here. In England, we have people faringsumptuously while they are getting good wages, and coming on the parishpaupers the moment those wages are suspended. Here, people are neverdependent upon any support but their own; but they live, of their ownfree will, in a style of frugality which a landlord would be hooted atfor suggesting to his cottagers. We pity Hodge, reduced to bacon andgreens, and to meat only once a week. The principal meal of a Guernseyfarmer consists of _soupe à la graisse_, which is, being interpreted, cabbage and peas stewed with a little dripping. This is the daily dinnerof men who _own_ perhaps three or four cows, a pig or two, and poultry. But the produce and the flesh of these creatures they sell in themarket, investing their gains in extension of land, or stock, or in"quarters, " that is, rent-charges on land, certificates of which arereadily bought and sold in the market. "[1]

[Footnote 1: _Letters and other writings of the late Edward Denison, M. P. _, pp. 141, 142. ]

Mr. Dension died before he could accomplish much. He was only able tomake a beginning. The misery, arising from improvidence, which he sodeeply deplored, still exists, and is even more widely spread. It is notmerely the artizan who spends all that he earns, but the classes abovehim, who cannot plead the same excuse of ignorance. Many of what arecalled the "upper" classes are no more excusable than the "lower. " Theywaste their means on keeping up appearances, and in feeding folly, dissipation, and vice. 

No one can reproach the English workman with want of industry. He worksharder and more skilfully than the workman of any other country; and hemight be more comfortable and independent in his circumstances, were heas prudent as he is laborious. But improvidence is unhappily the defectof the class. Even the best-paid English workmen, though earning moremoney than the average of professional men, still for the most partbelong to the poorer classes because of their thoughtlessness. Inprosperous times they are not accustomed to make provision for adversetimes; and when a period of social pressure occurs, they are rarelyfound more than a few weeks ahead of positive want. 

Hence, the skilled workman, unless trained in good habits, may exhibitno higher a life than that of the mere animal; and the earning ofincreased wages will only furnish him with increased means for indulgingin the gratification of his grosser appetites. Mr. Chadwick says, thatduring the Cotton Famine, "families trooped into the relief rooms in themost abject condition, whose previous aggregate wages exceeded theincome of many curates, --as had the wages of many of the individualworkmen. "[1] In a time of prosperity, working-people feast, and in atime of adversity they "clem. " Their earnings, to use their own phrase, "come in at the spigot and go out at the bunghole. " When prosperitycomes to an end, and they are paid off, they rely upon chance andprovidence--the providence of the Improvident!

[Footnote 1: _Address on Economy and Trade. _ By EDWIN CHADWICK, C. B. , p. 22. ]

Though trade has invariably its cycles of good and bad years, like thelean and fat kine in Pharaoh's dream--its bursts of prosperity, followedby glut, panic, and distress--the thoughtless and spendthrift take noheed of experience, and make no better provision for the future. Improvidence seems to be one of the most incorrigible of faults. "Thereare whole neighbourhoods in the manufacturing districts, " says Mr. Bakerin a recent Report, "where not only are there no savings worthmentioning, but where, within a fortnight of being out of work, theworkers themselves are starving for want of the merest necessaries. " Nota strike takes place, but immediately the workmen are plunged indestitution; their furniture and watches are sent to the pawnshop, whilst deplorable appeals are made to the charitable, and numerousfamilies are cast upon the poor-rates. 

This habitual improvidence--though of course there are many admirableexceptions--is the real cause of the social degradation of the artizan. This too is the prolific source of social misery. But the misery isentirely the result of human ignorance and self-indulgence. For thoughthe Creator has ordained poverty, the poor are not necessarily, nor as amatter of fact, the miserable. Misery is the result of moralcauses, --most commonly of individual vice and improvidence. 

The Rev. Mr. Norris, in speaking of the habits of the highly paid minersand iron-workers of South Staffordshire, says, "Improvidence is too tamea word for it--it is recklessness; here young and old, married andunmarried, are uniformly and almost avowedly self-indulgentspendthrifts. One sees this reckless character marring and vitiating thenobler traits of their nature. Their gallantry in the face of danger isakin to foolhardiness; their power of intense labour is seldom exertedexcept to compensate for time lost in idleness and revelry; theirreadiness to make 'gatherings' for their sick and married comrades seemsonly to obviate the necessity of previous saving; their very creed--and, after their sort, they are a curiously devotional people, holdingfrequent prayer-meetings in the pits--often degenerates into fanaticalfatalism. But it is seen far more painfully and unmistakably in thealternate plethora and destitution between which, from year's end toyear's end, the whole population seems to oscillate. The prodigalrevelry of the _reckoning night_, the drunkenness of Sunday, the refusalto work on Monday and perhaps Tuesday, and then the untidiness of theirhome towards the latter part of the two or three weeks which intervenebefore the next pay-day; their children kept from school, their wivesand daughters on the pit-bank, their furniture in the pawnshop; thecrowded and miry lanes in which they live, their houses often crackedfrom top to bottom by the 'crowning in' of the ground, without drainage, or ventilation, or due supply of water;--such a state of things as this, co-existing with earnings which might ensure comfort and evenprosperity, seems to prove that no legislation can cure the evil. "

We have certainly had numerous "Reforms. " We have had householdsuffrage, and vote by ballot. We have relieved the working classes ofthe taxes on corn, cattle, coffee, sugar, and provisions generally; andimposed a considerable proportion of the taxes from which they have beenrelieved on the middle and upper ranks. Yet these measures have producedbut little improvement in the condition of the working people. They havenot applied the principle of Reform to themselves. They have not begunat home. Yet the end of all Reform is the improvement of the individual. Everything that is wrong in Society results from that which is wrong inthe Individual. When men are bad, society is bad. 

Franklin, with his shrewd common sense, observed, "The taxes are indeedvery heavy; and if those laid on by the Government were the only ones wehad to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have manyothers, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed quite as muchby our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times asmuch by our folly; and from these taxes the Commissioners cannot ease ordeliver us by allowing an abatement. "

Lord John Russell once made a similar statement to a body of working menwho waited upon him for the purpose of asking relief from taxation. "Youcomplain of the taxes, " he said; "but think of how you tax yourselves. You consume about fifty millions yearly in drink. Is there anyGovernment that would dare to tax you to that extent? You have it inyour own power greatly to reduce the taxes, and that without in any wayappealing to us. "

Complaining that the laws are bad, and that the taxes are heavy, willnot mend matters. Aristocratic government, and the tyranny of masters, are nothing like so injurious as the tyranny of vicious appetites. Menare easily led away by the parade of their miseries, which are for themost part voluntary and self-imposed, --the results of idleness, thriftlessness, intemperance, and misconduct. To blame others for whatwe suffer, is always more agreeable to our self-pride, than to blameourselves. But it is perfectly clear that people who live from day today without plan, without rule, without forethought--who spend all theirearnings, without saving anything for the future--are preparingbeforehand for inevitable distress. To provide only for the present, isthe sure means to sacrificing the future. What hope can there be for apeople whose only maxim seems to be, "Let us eat and drink, forto-morrow we die"?

All this may seem very hopeless; yet it is not entirely so. The largeearnings of the working classes is an important point to start with. Thegradual diffusion of education will help them to use, and not abuse, their means of comfortable living. The more extended knowledge of theuses of economy, frugality, and thrift, will help them to spend theirlives more soberly, virtuously, and religiously. Mr. Denison was ofopinion that much of this might be accomplished "within twogenerations. " Social improvement is always very slow. How extremelytardy has been the progress of civilization! How gradually have itshumanizing influences operated in elevating the mass of the people! Itrequires the lapse of generations before its effects can be so much asdiscerned: for a generation is but as a day in the history ofcivilization. It has cost most nations ages of wars, before they couldconquer their right of existence as nations. It took four centuries ofpersecutions and martyrdoms to establish Christianity, and two centuriesof civil wars to establish the Reformation. The emancipation of thebondsmen from feudal slavery was only reached through long ages ofmisery. From the days in which our British progenitors rushed to battlein their war-paint, --or those more recent times when the whole of thelabouring people were villeins and serfs, bought and sold with the soilwhich they tilled, --to the times in which we now live, --how wide thedifference, how gratifying the contrast. Surely it ought not to be sodifficult to put an end to the Satanic influences of thriftlessness, drunkenness, and improvidence!

CHAPTER IV. 

MEANS OF SAVING. 

"Self-reliance and self-denial will teach a man to drink out of his owncistern, and eat his own sweet bread, and to learn and labour truly toget his own living, and carefully to save and expend the good thingscommitted to his trust. "--_Lord Bacon. _

"Love, therefore, labour: if thou should'st not want it for food, thoumay'st for physic. It is wholesome for the body, and good for the mind;it prevents the fruit of idleness. "--_William Penn. _

"The parent who does not teach his child a trade, teaches him to be athief. "--_Brahminical Scriptures. _

Those who say that "It can't be done, " are probably not aware that manyof the working classes are in the receipt of incomes considerably largerthan those of professional men. 

That this is the case, is not, by any means, a secret. It is publishedin blue-books, it is given in evidence before parliamentary committees, it is reported in newspapers. Any coal-owner, or iron-master, orcotton-spinner, will tell you of the high wages that he pays to hisworkpeople. 

Families employed in the cotton manufacture are able to earn over threepounds a week, according to the number of the children employed. [1]Their annual incomes will thus amount to about a hundred and fiftypounds a year, --which is considerably larger than the incomes of manyprofessional men--higher than the average of country surgeons, higherthan the average of the clergy and ministers of all denominations, higher than the average of the teachers of common schools, and probablyhigher than the average income of the middle classes of the UnitedKingdom generally. 

[Footnote 1: A return of seven families employed by Henry Ashworth, NewCayley Mills, Lancashire, is given in the Blue Book, entitled, "Reportof the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, containing the Returns relativeto the New Order of Reward, " p. 163. Of the seven families, the lowestearnings per family amounted to £2 14s. 6d. ; and the highest to £3 19s. A week. ]

An employer at Blackburn informs us that many persons earn upwards offive pounds a week, --or equal to an average income of two hundred andsixty pounds a year. Such families, he says, "ought not to expend morethan three pounds weekly. The rest should be saved. But most of them, after feeding and clothing themselves, spend the rest in drink anddissipation. "

The wages are similar in the Burnley district, where food, drink, anddress absorb the greater part of the workpeople's earnings. In this, asin other factory districts, "the practice of young persons(mill-workers) boarding with their parents is prevalent, and is verydetrimental to parental authority. " Another reporter says, "Wages areincreasing: as there is more money, and more time to spend it in, sobriety is not on the increase, especially amongst females. "

The operatives employed in the woollen manufacture receive about fortyshillings a week, and some as much as sixty, [1] besides the amountearned by their children. 

A good mechanic in an engine shop makes from thirty-five to forty-fiveshillings a week, and some mechanics make much larger wages. Multiplythese figures, and it will be found that they amount to an annual incomeof from a hundred to a hundred and twenty pounds a year. 

[Footnote 1: See the above Blue Book, p. 57, certifying the wages paidby Bliss and Son, of Chipping Norton Woollen Factory. ]

But the colliers and iron-workers are paid much higher wages. One of thelargest iron-masters recently published in the newspapers the names ofcertain colliers in his employment who were receiving from four to fivepounds a week, --or equal to an annual income of from two hundred to twohundred and fifty pounds a year. [1]

[Footnote 1: Richard Fothergill, Esq. , M. P. He published a subsequentletter, from which we extract the following:--

"No doubt such earnings seem large to clerks, and educated men, whoafter receiving a costly education have often to struggle hard forbread; but they are nevertheless the rightful earnings of steady manuallabour; and I have the pleasure of adding that, while all steady, well-disposed colliers, in good health, could make equally good wages, many hundreds in South Wales are quietly doing as much or more: witnessa steady collier in my employment, with his two sons living at home, whose monthly pay ticket has averaged £30 for the past twelvemonth. 

"Another steady collier within my information, aided by his son, h asearned during the past five months upwards of £20 a month on theaverage, and from his manual labour as an ordinary collier--for it is ofthe working colliers and firemen I am speaking all along--he has builtfifteen good houses, and, disregarding all menaces, he continues hishabits of steady industry, whereby he hopes to accumulate anindependence for his family in all events. "]

Iron-workers are paid a still higher rate of wages. A plate-rollereasily makes three hundred a year. [2] The rollers in rail mills oftenmake much more. In busy times they have made as much as from seven toten guineas a week, or equal to from three to five hundred a year. [3]But, like the workers in cotton mills, the iron workers are often helpedby their sons, who are also paid high wages. Thus, the under-hands areusually boys from fourteen years of age and upwards, who earn aboutnineteen shillings a week, and the helpers are boys of under fourteen, who earn about nine shillings a week. 

[Footnote 2: See Messrs. Fox, Head, and Co. 's return, in the Blue Bookabove referred to. This was the rate of wages at Middlesborough, inYorkshire. In South Wales, the wages of the principal operatives engagedin the iron manufacture, recently, were--Puddlers. 9_s_. A day; firstheaters on the rail mills. 8_s_. 9_d_. A day: second heaters, 11_s_. 7_d_. : roughers, 10_s_. 9_d_. : rollers, 13_s_. 2_d_. , or equal to thatamount. ]

[Footnote 3: Even at the present time, when business is so muchdepressed, the mill-rollers make an average wage of £5 10_s_. A week. ]

These earnings are far above the average incomes of the professionalclasses. The rail rollers are able to earn a rate of pay equal to thatof Lieutenant-Colonels in Her Majesty's Foot Guards; plate-rollers equalto that of Majors of Foot; and roughers equal to that of Lieutenants andAdjutants. 

Goldsmith spoke of the country curate as "passing rich with forty poundsa year. " The incomes of curates have certainly increased since the timewhen Goldsmith wrote, but nothing like the incomes of skilled andunskilled workmen. If curates merely worked for money, they wouldcertainly change their vocation, and become colliers and iron-workers. 

When the author visited Renfrewshire a few years ago, the colliers wereearning from ten to fourteen shillings a day. According to the commonsaying, they were "making money like a minting machine. " To take aninstance, a father and three sons were earning sixty pounds a month, --orequal to a united income of more than seven hundred pounds a year. Thefather was a sober, steady, "eident" man. While the high wages lasted, he was the first to enter the pit in the morning, and the last to leaveit at night. He only lost five days in one year (1873-4), --the lossbeing occasioned by fast-days and holidays. Believing that the period ofhigh wages could not last long, he and his sons worked as hard as theycould. They saved a good deal of money, and bought several houses;besides educating themselves to occupy higher positions. 

In the same neighbourhood, another collier, with four sons, was earningmoney at about the same rate per man, that is about seventy-five-poundsa mouth, or nine hundred pounds a year. This family bought five houseswithin a year, and saved a considerable sum besides. The lastinformation we had respecting them was that the father had become acontractor, --that he employed about sixty colliers and "reddsmen, "[1]and was allowed so much for every ton of coals brought to bank. The sonswere looking after their father's interests. They were all sober, diligent, sensible men; and took a great deal of interest in theeducation and improvement of the people in their neighbourhood. 

[Footnote 1: "Reddsmen" are the men who clear the way for the colliers. They "redd up" the _debris_, and build up the roof (in the long wallsystem) as the colliery advances. ]

At the same time that these two families of colliers were doing so well, it was very different with the majority of their fellow-workmen. Theseonly worked about three days in every week. Some spent their earnings atthe public-house; others took a whisky "ploy" at the seaside. For thatpurpose they hired all the gigs, droskies, cabs, or "machines, " about afortnight beforehand. The results were seen, as the successive Mondaymornings come round. The magistrate sat in the neighbouring town, wherea number of men and women, with black eyes and broken heads, werebrought before him for judgment. Before the time of high wages, theCourt-house business was got through in an hour: sometimes there was nobusiness at all. But when the wages were doubled, the magistrate couldscarcely get through the business in a day. It seemed as if high wagesmeant more idleness, more whisky, and more broken heads and faces. 

These were doubtless "roaring times" for the colliers, who, had theypossessed the requisite self-denial, might have made little fortunes. Many of the men who worked out the coal remained idle three or four daysin the week; while those who burnt the coal, were famished and frozenfor want of it. The working people who were _not_ colliers, will longremember that period as the time of the _coal famine_. While it lasted, Lord Elcho went over to Tranent--a village in East Lothian--to addressthe colliers upon their thriftlessness, their idleness, and theirattempted combinations to keep up the price of coal. 

He had the moral courage--a quality much wanted in these days--to tellhis constituents some hard but honest truths. He argued with them aboutthe coal famine, and their desire to prolong it. They were working threedays a week, and idling the other days. Some of them did not do a strokeof work during a week or a fortnight; others were taking about a hundredBank holidays yearly. But what were they doing with the money theyearned? Were they saving it for a rainy day; or, when the "roaringtimes" no longer existed, were they preparing to fall back upon thepoor-rates? He found that in one case a man, with his two sons, wasearning seven pounds in a fortnight. "I should like, " he said, "to seethose Scotchmen who are in the mining business taking advantage of thesehappy times, and endeavouring by their industry to rise from theirpresent position--to exercise self-help, to acquire property, andpossibly to become coal masters themselves. "

It had been said in a newspaper, that a miner was earning wages equal tothat of a Captain, and that a mining boy was earning wages equal to thatof a Lieutenant in Her Majesty's service. "I only know, " said LordElcho, "that I have a boy who, when he first joined Her Majesty'sservice, was an Ensign, and that his wage--to earn which, remember, hehad, under the purchase system, to pay five hundred pounds, --was not thewage you are now receiving, but the wage which you were receiving in badtimes, --and that was only five shillings a day. " It might be said thatthe collier risks his life in earning his wages; but so does thesoldier; and the gallant boy to whom Lord Elcho referred, afterwardslost his life in the Ashantee campaign. 

The times of high wages did not leave a very good impression on thepublic mind. Prices became higher, morals became lower, and the workdone was badly done. There was a considerable deterioration in thecharacter of British workmanship. "We began to rely too much upon theforeigner. Trade was to a large extent destroyed, and an enormous lossof capital was sustained, both by the workmen and by the masters. LordAberdare was of opinion that three millions sterling were lost by _theworkmen alone_, during the recent strike in South Wales. One hundred andtwenty thousand workmen were in enforced idleness at once, and onehundred and fifty thousand pounds were lost every week in wages duringthe time that they remained idle. 

What the employers think of the recent flash of "prosperity, " can easilybe imagined. But it may not be unnecessary to quote some of thestatements of correspondents. A large employer of labour in SouthLancashire says: "Drunkenness increases, and personal violence is notsufficiently discouraged. High wages and household suffrage came uponthe people before education had prepared them for the change. "

In a large iron-work near Newcastle, where the men were paid the highestwages for rolling plates and rails--and where they were earning betweenthree and four hundred pounds a year--the proprietors observe: "Exceptin a few instances, we are afraid that workmen and their families spendmost of their earnings. " Another employer in South Staffordshire says:In the majority of cases, the men employed in the iron-work spend thewhole of their wages before the end of the following week. There are, ofcourse, some exceptions; but they are, unhappily, very few. " Another, inSouth Wales, says: "As to the thrifty habits of the men, a smallminority are careful and saving; they generally invest their money incottage property. But the great majority of the men spend their moneyoften before they earn it, and that in the most reckless way. Large sumsare spent in drink: this leads to idleness; and, owing to drinking andidling, the works are kept short of men until about Wednesday in eachweek, when the greater part of the most idly disposed have becomesobered down. Of course, when wages are low, the men work moreregularly. There is less drinking, and altogether the condition of theplace is healthier in every respect both in a moral and physical sense. "

Another observer remarks, that the miners of Bilston are about sixthousand in number, and they spend more than fifty thousand poundsannually in the purchase of ale and liquors. Their improvidence may bestudied with advantage in the Bilston Market. No other market issupplied with finer poultry, or comparatively to the population, ingreater abundance; and this is chiefly, if not entirely, for, theconsumption of the labouring classes, --for the resident inhabitants, notdirectly associated with those classes are few in number. Sordid andill-favoured men may there be seen buying on Saturday, chickens, ducks, and geese, which they eat for supper; and in some instances, bottledporter and wine. Yet, so little have they beforehand in the world, thatif the works were to stop, they would begin within a fortnight to pawnthe little furniture of their cottages, and their clothes, forsubsistence and for drink. 

Mr. Chambers, of Edinburgh, in his description of the working classes ofSunderland makes these remarks: "With deep sorrow I mention thateverywhere one tale was told. Intemperance prevails to a large extent;good wages are squandered on mean indulgences; there is little care forthe morrow, and the workhouse is the ultimate refuge. One man, a skilledworker in an iron-foundry, was pointed out as having for years receiveda wage of one guinea a day, or six guineas a week; he had spent all, mostly in drink, and was now reduced to a lower department at a pound aweek. "

Another illustration occurs. A clerk at Blackburn took a house fortwenty pounds a year, and sublet the cellars underneath to a factoryoperative at a rental of five pounds a year. The clerk had a wife, fourchildren, and a servant; the operative had a wife and five children. Theclerk and his family were well dressed, their children went to school, and all went to church on Sundays. The operative's family went, some tothe factory, others to the gutter, but none to school; they wereill-dressed, excepting on Sundays, when they obtained their clothes fromthe pawnshop. As the Saturdays came round, the frying-pan in the cellarwas almost constantly at work until Monday night; and as regularly asThursday arrived, the bundle of clothes was sent to the pawnshop. Yetthe income of the upper-class family in the higher part of the house wasa hundred a year; and the income of the lower class family in the cellarwas fifty pounds more--that is, a hundred and fifty pounds a year!

An employer in the same neighbourhood used to say, "I cannot affordlamb, salmon, young ducks and green peas, new potatoes, strawberries andsuch-like, until after my hands have been consuming these delicacies ofthe season for some three or four weeks. "

The intense selfishness, thriftlessness, and folly of these highly paidoperatives, is scarcely credible. Exceptions are frequently taken tocalling the working classes "the lower orders;" but "the lower orders"they always will be, so long as they indicate such sensual indulgenceand improvidence. In cases such as these, improvidence is not only agreat sin, and a feeder of sin, but it is a great _cruelty_. In the caseof the father of a family, who has been instrumental in bringing anumber of helpless beings into the world, it is heartless and selfish inthe highest degree to spend money on personal indulgences such as drink, which do the parent no good, and the mother and the children, throughthe hereditary bad example, an irreparable amount of mischief. Thefather takes sick, is thrown out of work, and his children are at oncedeprived of the means of subsistence. The reckless parent has not eventaken the precaution to enter a Provident or a Benefit Society; andwhile he is sick, his wife and children are suffering the pangs ofhunger. Or, he dies; and the poor creatures are thrown upon the charityof strangers, or on the miserable pittance wrung from the poor-rates. 

It would seem to be of little use preaching up an extension of rights toa people who are so supinely indifferent to their own well-being, --whoare really unconcerned about their own elevation. The friends of theindustrious should faithfully tell them that they must exerciseprudence, economy, and self-denial, if they would really be raised fromselfish debasement, and become elevated to the dignity of thinkingbeings. It is only by practising the principles of self-dependence thatthey can achieve dignity, stability, and consideration in society; orthat they can acquire such influence and power as to raise them in thescale of social well-being. 

Brown, the Oxford shoemaker, was of opinion that "a good mechanic is themost independent man in the world. " At least he ought to be such. He hasalways a market for his skill; and if he be ordinarily diligent, sober, and intelligent, he may be useful, healthy, and happy. With a thriftyuse of his means, he may, if he earns from thirty to forty shillings aweek, dress well, live well, and educate his children creditably. 

Hugh Miller never had more than twenty-four shillings a week whileworking as a journeyman stonemason, and here is the result of hisfifteen years' experience:--

"Let me state, for it seems to be very much the fashion to draw dolorouspictures of the condition of the labouring classes, that from the closeof the first year in which I worked as a journeyman until I took finalleave of the mallet and chisel, I never knew what it was to want ashilling; that my two uncles, my grandfather, and the mason with whom Iserved my apprenticeship--all working men--had had a similar experience;and that it was the experience of my father also. I cannot doubt thatdeserving mechanics may, in exceptional cases, be exposed to want; but Ican as little doubt that the cases _are_ exceptional, and that much ofthe suffering of the class is a consequence either of improvidence onthe part of the competently skilled, or of a course of trifling duringthe term of apprenticeship, quite as common as trifling at school, thatalways lands those who indulge in it in the hapless position of theinferior workman. "

It is most disheartening to find that so many of the highest paidworkmen in the kingdom should spend so large a portion of their earningsin their own personal and sensual gratification. Many spend a third, andothers half their entire earnings, in drink. It would be consideredmonstrous, on the part of any man whose lot has been cast among theeducated classes to exhibit such a degree of selfish indulgence; and tospend even one-fourth of his income upon objects in which his wife andchildren have no share. 

Mr. Roolmck recently asked, at a public meeting, [1] "Why should the mailwho makes £200 or £300 a year by his mechanical labour, be a rude, coarse, brutal fellow? There is no reason why he should be so. 

[Footnote 1: Meeting of the Mechanics' Institutes at Dewsbury, Yorkshire. ]

Why should he not be like a gentleman? Why should not his house be likemy house? When I go home from my labour, what do I find? I find acheerful wife--I find an elegant, educated woman. I have a daughter; sheis the same. Why should not you find the same happy influences at home?I want to know, when the working man comes from his daily labour to hishome, why he should not find his table spread as mine is spread; why heshould not find his wife well dressed, cleanly, loving, kind, and hisdaughter the same?... We all know that many working men, earning goodwages, spend their money in the beerhouse and in drunkenness, instead ofin clothing their wives and families. Why should not these men spendtheir wages as I spend my small stipend, in intellectual pleasures, injoining with my family in intellectual pursuits? Why should not workingmen, after enjoying their dinners and thanking God for what they havegot, turn their attention to intellectual enjoyments, instead of goingout to get drunk in the nearest pothouse! Depend on it these thingsought to go to the heart of a working man; and he is not a friend to theworking man who talks to him and makes him believe that he is a greatman in the State, and who don't tell him what are the duties of hisposition. "

It is difficult to account for the waste and extravagance of workingpeople. It must be the hereditary remnant of the original savage. Itmust be a survival. The savage feasts and drinks until everything isgone; and then he hunts or goes to war. Or it may be the survival ofslavery in the State. Slavery was one of the first of humaninstitutions. The strong man made the weak man work for him. The warlikerace subdued the less warlike race, and made them their slaves. Thusslavery existed from the earliest times. In Greece and Rome the rightingwas done by freemen, the labour by helots and bondsmen. But slavery alsoexisted in the family. The wife was the slave of her husband as much asthe slave whom he bought in the public market. 

Slavery long existed among ourselves. It existed when Caesar lauded. Itexisted in Saxon times, when the household work was done by slaves. TheSaxons were notorious slave-dealers, and the Irish were their bestcustomers. The principal mart was at Bristol, from whence the Saxonsexported large numbers of slaves into Ireland so that, according toIrish historians, there was scarcely a house in Ireland without aBritish slave in it. 

When the Normans took possession of England, they continued slavery. They made slaves of the Saxons themselves whom they decreed villeins andbondsmen. Domesday Book shows that the toll of the market at Lewes inSussex was a penny for a cow, and fourpence for a slave--not a serf(_adscriptus glebae_), but an unconditional bondsman. From that timeslavery continued in various forms. It is recorded of "the good oldtimes, " that it was not till the reign of Henry IV. (1320--1413) thatvilleins, farmers, and mechanics were permitted by law to put theirchildren to school; and long after that, they dared not educate a sonfor the Church without a licence from the lord. [1] The Kings of England, in their contests with the feudal aristocracy, gradually relaxed theslave laws. They granted charters founding Royal Burghs; and when theslaves fled into them, and were able to conceal themselves for a yearand a day, they then became freemen of the burgh, and were declared bylaw to be free. 

[Footnote 1: _Henry's History of England_, Book v. , chap. 4]

The last serfs in England were emancipated in the reign of QueenElizabeth; but the last serfs in Scotland, were not emancipated untilthe reign of George III, at the end of last century. Before then, thecolliers and salters belonged to the soil. They were bought and soldwith it. They had no power to determine what their wages should be. Likethe slaves in the Southern States of America, they merely accepted suchsustenance as was sufficient to maintain their muscles and sinews inworking order. 

They were never required to save for any purpose, for they had no rightto their own savings. They did not need to provide for to-morrow; theirmasters provided for them. The habit of improvidence was thus formed;and it still continues. The Scotch colliers, who were recently earningfrom ten to fourteen shillings a day, are the grandsons of men who wereslaves down to the end of last century. The preamble of an Act passed in1799 (39th Geo. III. , c. 56), runs as follows: "Whereas, before thepassing of an Act of the fifteenth of his present Majesty, manycolliers, coal-bearers, and salters _were bound for life to, andtransferable with, the collieries and salt-works where they worked_, butby the said Act their bondage was taken off and they were declared to befree, notwithstanding which many colliers and coalbearers and saltersstill continue in a state of bondage from not having complied with theprovisions, or from having become subject to the penalties of that Act, "etc. The new Act then proceeds to declare them free from servitude. Theslaves formerly earned only enough to keep them, and laid by nothingwhatever for the future. Hence we say that the improvidence of thecolliers, as of the iron-workers, is but a survival of the system ofslavery in our political constitution. 

Matters have now become entirely different. The workman, no matter whathis trade, is comparatively free. The only slavery from which hesuffers, is his passion for drink. In this respect he still resemblesthe Esquimaux and the North American Indians. Would he be really free?Then he must exercise the powers of a free, responsible man. He mustexercise self-control and self-constraint, --and sacrifice presentpersonal gratifications for prospective enjoyments of a much higherkind. It is only by self-respect and self-control that the position ofthe workman can be really elevated. 

The working man is now more of a citizen than he ever was before. He isa recognized power, and has been admitted within the pale of theconstitution. For him mechanics' institutes, newspapers, benefitsocieties, and all the modern agencies of civilization, exist inabundance. He is admitted to the domain of intellect; and, from time totime, great thinkers, artists, engineers, philosophers, and poets, riseup from his order, to proclaim that intellect is of no rank, andnobility of no exclusive order. The influences of civilization arerousing society to its depths; and daily evidences are furnished of therise of the industrious classes to a position of social power. Discontent may, and does, exhibit itself; but discontent is only thenecessary condition of improvement; for a man will not be stimulated torise up into a higher condition unless he be first made dissatisfiedwith the lower condition out of which he has to rise. To be satisfied isto repose; while, to be rationally dissatisfied, is to contrive, towork, and to act, with an eye to future advancement. 

The working classes very much under-estimate themselves. Though theyreceive salaries or wages beyond the average earnings of professionalmen, yet many of them have no other thought than that of living in meanhouses, and spending their surplus time and money in drink. They seemwanting in respect for themselves as well as for their class. Theyencourage the notion that there is something degrading in labour, --thanwhich nothing can be more false. Labour of all kinds is dignifying andhonourable; it is the idler, above all others, who is undignified anddishonourable. 

"Let the working man, " says Mr. Sterling, "try to connect his dailytask, however mean, with the highest thoughts he can apprehend, and hethereby secures the rightfulness of his lot, and is raising hisexistence to his utmost good. It is because the working man has failedto do this, and because others have failed to help him as they ought, that the lot of labour has hitherto been associated with what is meanand degrading. "

With respect to remuneration, the average of skilled mechanics andartisans, as we have already said, are better paid than the average ofworking curates. The working engineer is better paid than the ensign ina marching regiment. The foreman in any of our large engineeringestablishments is better paid than an army surgeon. The rail-rollerreceives over a guinea a day, while an assistant navy surgeon receivesfourteen shillings, and after three years' service, twenty-oneshillings, with rations. The majority of dissenting ministers are muchworse paid than the better classes of skilled mechanics and artizans;and the average of clerks employed in counting-houses and warehousesreceive wages very much lower. 

Skilled workmen might--and, if they had the will, they would--occupy asocial position as high as the educated classes we refer to. Whatprevents them rising? Merely because they will not use their leisure tocultivate their minds. They have sufficient money; it is culture thatthey want. They ought to know that the position of men in society doesnot depend so much upon their earnings, as upon their character andintelligence. And it is because they neglect their abundantopportunities, --because they are thriftless and spend their earnings inanimal enjoyments, --because they refuse to cultivate the highest partsof their nature, --that they are excluded, or rather self-excluded, fromthose social and other privileges in which they are entitled to takepart. 

Notwithstanding their high wages, they for the most part cling to thedress, the language, and the manners of their class. They appear, duringtheir leisure hours, in filthy dresses, and unwashed hands. No matterhow skilled the workman may be, he is ready to sink his mind andcharacter to the lowest level of his co-workers. Even the extra moneywhich he earns by his greater skill, often contributes to demoralize anddegrade him. And yet he might dress as well, live as well, and besurrounded by the physical comforts and intellectual luxuries ofprofessional men. But no! From week to week his earnings are wasted. Hedoes not save a farthing; he is a public-house victim; and when workbecomes slack, and his body becomes diseased, his only refuge is theworkhouse. 

How are these enormous evils to be cured? Some say by better education;others by moral and religious instruction; others by better homes, andbetter wives and mothers. All these influences will doubtless contributemuch towards the improvement of the people. One thing is perfectlyclear, that an immense amount of ignorance prevails, and that suchignorance must be dissipated before the lower classes can be elevated. Their whole character must be changed, and they must be taught in earlylife habits of forecast and self-control. 

We often hear that "Knowledge is Power;" but we never hear thatIgnorance is Power. And yet Ignorance has always had more power in theworld than Knowledge. Ignorance dominates. It is because of the evilpropensities of men that the costly repressive institutions of moderngovernments exist. 

Ignorance arms men against each other; provides gaols andpenitentiaries; police and constabulary. All the physical force of theState is provided by Ignorance; is required by Ignorance; is very oftenwielded by Ignorance. We may well avow, then, that Ignorance is Power. 

Ignorance is powerful, because Knowledge, as yet, has obtained accessonly to the minds of the few. Let Knowledge become more generallydiffused; let the multitude become educated, thoughtful, and wise; andthen Knowledge may obtain the ascendancy over Ignorance. But that timehas not yet arrived. 

Look into the records of crime, and you will find that, for one manpossessed of wisdom or knowledge who commits a crime, there are ahundred ignorant. Or, into the statistics of drunkenness andimprovidence of all sorts; still Ignorance is predominant. Or, into theannals of pauperism; there, again, Ignorance is Power. 

The principal causes of anxiety in this country, are the socialsuffering and disease which proceed from Ignorance. To mitigate these, we form associations, organize societies, spend money, and labour incommittees. But the power of Ignorance is too great for us. We almostdespair while we work. We feel that much of our effort is wasted. We areoften ready to give up in dismay, and recoil from our encounter with thepowers of evil. 

"How forcible are right words!" exclaimed Job. Yes! But, with equaljustice, he might have said, "How forcible are wrong words!" The wrongwords have more power with ignorant minds than the right words. They fitthemselves into wrong heads, and prejudiced heads, and empty heads; andhave power over them. The right words have often no meaning for them, any more than if they were the words of some dead language. The wiseman's thoughts do not reach the multitude, but fly over their heads. Only the few as yet apprehend them. 

The physiologist may discuss the laws of health, and the Board of Healthmay write tracts for circulation among the people; but half the peoplecannot so much as read; and of the remaining half, but a very smallproportion are in the habit of _thinking_. Thus the laws of health aredisregarded; and when fever comes, it finds a wide field to work upon:in undrained and filthy streets and back-yards, --noisome, pestilentialdistricts, --foul, uncleansed dwellings, --large populations ill-suppliedwith clean water and with pure air. There death makes fell havoc; manydestitute widows and children have to be maintained out of thepoor's-rates; and then we reluctantly confess to ourselves thatIgnorance is Power. 

The only method of abating this power of Ignorance, is by increasingthat of Knowledge. As the sun goes up the sky, the darkness disappears;and the owl, the bat, and the beasts of prey, slink out of sight. Givethe people knowledge, --give them better education, --and thus, crime willbe abated, --drunkenness, improvidence, lawlessness, and all the powersof evil, will, to a certain extent, disappear. [1]

[Footnote 1: The recent reports of Mr. Tremenheere to the Secretary ofState for the Home Department, with respect to the condition of thepopulation in the iron and coal districts, show that he placesconsiderable reliance upon the effect of Education. The evidence whichhe brought together from all parts of the country, shows that theincrease of immorality with the increase of wages was attributed to thelow tastes and desires of the people. --that the obstinate refusal of themen to exert more than two-thirds of their fair powers of work, by whichthe cost of production is largely enhanced, capital crippled, and thepublic mulcted, was due to the same cause, --that their readiness tobecome the prey of unionists and agitators is traceable to their want ofthe most elementary principles of thought, --that most of the accidents, which are of weekly occurrence, are occasioned by their stupidity andignorance, --that wherever they have advanced in intelligence, they havebecome more skilful, more subordinate, and more industrious. These factshave convinced the more thoughtful and far-sighted masters, that theonly sure means of maintaining their ground under increasing foreigncompetition, and averting a social crisis, is to reform the character ofthe rising generation of operatives by _education_, ]

It must, however, be admitted that education is not enough. The cleverman may be a clever rogue; and the cleverer he is, the cleverer rogue hewill be. Education, therefore, must be based upon religion and morality;for education by itself will not eradicate vicious propensities. Cultureof intellect has but little effect upon moral conduct. You may seeclever, educated, literary men, with no conduct whatever, --wasteful, improvident, drunken, and vicious. It follows, therefore, that educationmust be based upon the principles of religion and morality. 

Nor has the poverty of the people so much to do with their socialdegradation as is commonly supposed. The question is essentially a moralone. If the income of the labouring community could be suddenly doubled, their happiness will not necessarily be increased; for happiness doesnot consist in money. In fact, the increased wages might probably provea curse instead of a blessing. In the case of many, there would be anincreased consumption of drink, with the usual results, --an increase ofdrunken violence, and probably an increase of crime. 

The late Mr. Clay, chaplain of the Preston House of Correction, aftercharacterizing drunkenness as the GREAT SIN, proceeds: "It still risesin savage hostility, against everything allied to order and religion; itstill barricades every avenue by which truth and peace seek to enter thepoor man's home and heart.... Whatever may be the predominant cause ofcrime, it is very clear that ignorance, religious ignorance, is thechief ingredient in the character of the criminal. This combines withthe passion for liquor, and offences numberless are engendered by theunion. "

The late Sir Arthur Helps, when speaking of high and low wages, and ofthe means of getting and spending money, thus expresses himself on thesubject, in his "Friends in Council":"My own conviction is, thatthroughout England every year there is sufficient wages given, even atthe present low rate, to make the condition of the labouring poor quitedifferent from what it is. But then these wages must be well spent. I donot mean that the poor could of themselves alone effect this change; butwere they seconded by the advice, the instruction, and the aid (notgiven in money, or only in money lent to produce the current interest ofthe day) of the classes above them, the rest the poor might accomplishfor themselves. And, indeed, all that the rich could do to elevate thepoor could hardly equal the advantage that would be gained by the poorthemselves, if they could thoroughly subdue that one vice ofdrunkenness, the most wasteful of all the vices. 

"In the living of the poor (as indeed of all of us) there are two thingsto be considered; how to get money, and how to spend it. Now, I believe, the experience of employers will bear me out in saying, that it isfrequently found that the man with 20s. A week does not live morecomfortably, or save more, than the man with 14s. , --the families of thetwo men being the same in number and general circumstances. It isprobable that unless he have a good deal of prudence and thought, theman who gets at all more than the average of his class does not knowwhat to do with it, or only finds in it a means superior to that whichhis fellows possess of satisfying his appetite for drinking. "

Notwithstanding, however, the discouraging circumstances to which wehave referred, we must believe that in course of time, as men's naturebecomes improved by education--secular, moral, and religious--they maybe induced to make a better use of their means, by considerations ofprudence, forethought, and parental responsibility. A German writerspeaks of the education given to a child as _a capital_--equivalent to astore of money--placed at its disposal by the parent. The child, whengrown to manhood, may employ the education, as he might employ themoney, badly; but that is no argument against the possession of either. Of course, the value of education, as of money, chiefly consists in itsproper use. And one of the advantages of knowledge is, that the veryacquisition of it tends to increase the capability of using it aright;which is certainly not the case with the accumulation of money. 

Education, however obtained, is always an advantage to a man. Even as ameans of material advancement, it is worthy of being sought after, --notto speak of its moral uses as an elevator of character and intelligence. And if, as Dr. Lyon Playfair insists, the composition between industrialnations must before long become a competition mainly of intelligence, itis obvious that England must make better provision for the education ofits industrial classes, or be prepared to fall behind in the industrialprogress of nations. 

"It would be of little avail, " said Dr. Brewster of Edinburgh, "to thepeace and happiness of society, if the great truths of the materialworld were confined to the educated and the wise. The organization ofscience thus limited would cease to be a blessing. Knowledge secular, and knowledge divine, the double current of the intellectual life-bloodof man, must not merely descend through the great arteries of the socialframe; it must be taken up by the minutest capillaries before it cannourish and purify society. Knowledge is at once the manna and themedicine of our moral being. Where crime is the bane, knowledge is theantidote. Society may escape from the pestilence and may survive thefamine; but the demon of ignorance, with his grim adjutants of vice andriot, will pursue her into her most peaceful haunts, destroying ourinstitutions, and converting into a wilderness the paradise of socialand domestic life. The State has, therefore, a great duty to perform. Asit punishes crime, it is bound to prevent it. As it subjects us to laws, it must teach us to read them; and while it thus teaches, it must teachalso the ennobling truths which display the power and the wisdom of thegreat Lawgiver, thus diffusing knowledge while it is extendingeducation; and thus making men contented, and happy, and humble, whileit makes them quiet and obedient subjects. "

A beginning has already been made with public school education. Muchstill remains to be done to establish the system throughout the empire. At present we are unable to judge of the effects of what has been done. But if general education accomplish as much for England as it hasalready accomplished for Germany, the character of this country will beimmensely improved during the next twenty years. Education has almostbanished drunkenness from Germany; and had England no drunkenness, nothriftlessness, no reckless multiplication, our social miseries would becomparatively trivial. 

We must therefore believe that as intelligence extends amongst theworking class, and as a better moral tone pervades them, there will be arapid improvement in their sober, thrifty and provident habits; forthese form the firmest and surest foundations for social advancement. There is a growing desire, on the part of the more advanced minds insociety, to see the working men take up their right position. They whodo society's work, --who produce, under the direction of the mostintelligent of their number, the wealth of the nation, --are entitled toa much higher place than they have yet assumed. We believe in this "goodtime coming, " for working men and women, --when an atmosphere ofintelligence shall pervade them--when they will prove themselves asenlightened, polite, and independent as the other classes of society;and, as the first and surest step towards this consummation, we counselthem to PROVIDE--to provide for the future as well as for thepresent--to provide, in times of youth and plenty, against the times ofadversity, misfortune, and old age. 

"If any one intends to improve his condition, " said the late WilliamFelkin, Mayor of Nottingham, himself originally a working man, "he mustearn all he can, spend as little as he can, and make what he does spend, bring him and his family all the real enjoyment he can. The first savingwhich a working man makes out of his earnings is the first step, --andbecause it is the first, the most important step towards trueindependence. Now independence is as practicable in the case of anindustrious and economic, though originally poor, workman, as in that ofthe tradesman or merchant, --and is as great and estimable a blessing. The same process must be attended to, --that is, the entire expenditurebeing kept below the clear income, all contingent claims being carefullyconsidered and provided for, and the surplus held sacred, to be employedfor those purposes, and those only, which duty or conscience may pointout as important or desirable. This requires a course of laboriousexertion and strict economy, a little foresight, and possibly someprivation. But this is only what is common to all desirable objects. Andinasmuch as I know what it is to labour with the hands long hours, andfor small wages, as well as any workman to whom I address myself, and topractise self-denial withal, I am emboldened to declare from experiencethat the gain of independence, or rather self-dependence, for which Iplead, is worth infinitely more than all the cost of its attainment;and, moreover, that to attain it in a greater or less degree, accordingto circumstances, is within the power of by far the greater number ofskilled workmen engaged in our manufactories. "

CHAPTER V. 

EXAMPLES OF THRIFT. 

"Examples demonstrate the possibility of success. "--_Cotton. _

_"The force of his own merit, makes his way. "--_Shakespeare. _

"Reader, attend, whether thy soulSoars Fancy's flight beyond the Pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole In low pursuit--Know, prudent, cautious self-control, Is wisdom's root. "--_Burns. _

"In the family, as in the State, the best source of wealth isEconomy. "--_Cicero. _

"Right action is the result of right faith; but a true and right faithcannot be sustained, deepened, extended, save in a course of rightaction. "--_M'Combie. _

Thrift is the spirit of order applied to domestic management andorganization. Its object is to manage frugally the resources of thefamily; to prevent waste; and avoid useless expenditure. Thrift is underthe influence of reason and forethought, and never works by chance or byfits. It endeavours to make the most and the best of everything. It doesnot save money for saving's sake. It makes cheerful sacrifices for thepresent benefit of others; or it submits to voluntary privation for somefuture good. 

Mrs. Inchbald, author of the "Simple Story, " was, by dint of thrift, able to set apart the half of her small income for the benefit of herinfirm sister. There was thus about two pounds a week for themaintenance of each. "Many times, " she says, "during the winter, when Iwas crying with cold, have I said to myself, 'Thank God, my dear sisterneed not leave her chamber; she will find her fire ready for her eachmorning; for she is now far less able than I am to endure privation. '"Mrs. Inchbald's family were, for the most part very poor; and she feltit right to support them during their numerous afflictions. There is onething that may be say of Benevolence, --that it has never ruined anyone;though selfishness and dissipation have ruined thousands. 

The words "Waste not, want not, " carved in stone over Sir Walter Scott'skitchen fireplace at Abbotsford, expresses in a few words the secret ofOrder in the midst of abundance. Order is most useful in the managementof everything, --of a household, of a business, of a manufactory, of anarmy. Its maxim is--A place for everything, and everything in its place. Order is wealth; for, whoever properly regulates the use of his income, almost doubles his resources. Disorderly persons are rarely rich; andorderly persons are rarely poor. 

Order is the best manager of time; for unless work is properly arranged, Time is lost; and, once lost, it is gone for ever. Order illustratesmany important subjects. Thus, obedience to the moral and natural law, is order. Respect for ourselves and our neighbours, is order. Regard forthe rights and obligations of all, is order. Virtue is order. The worldbegan with order. Chaos prevailed, before the establishment of order. 

Thrift is the spirit of order in human life. It is the prime agent inprivate economy. It preserves the happiness of many a household. And asit is usually woman who regulates the order of the household, it ismainly upon her that the well-doing of society depends. It is thereforeall the more necessary that she should early be educated in the habitand the virtue of orderliness. 

The peer, the merchant, the clerk, the artizan, and the labourer, areall of the same nature, born with the same propensities and subject tosimilar influences. They are, it is true, born in different positions, but it rests with themselves whether they shall live their lives noblyor vilely. They may not have their choice of riches or poverty; but theyhave their choice of being good or evil, --of being worthy or worthless. 

People of the highest position, in point of culture and education, haveoften as great privations to endure as the average of working people. They have often to make their incomes go much further. They have to keepup a social standing. They have to dress better; and live sufficientlywell for the purpose of health. Though their income may be less thanthat of colliers and iron-workers, they are under the moral necessity ofeducating their sons and bringing them up as gentlemen, so that they maytake their fair share of the world's work. 

Thus, the tenth Earl of Buchan brought up a numerous family of children, one of whom afterwards rose to be Lord Chancellor of England, upon anincome not exceeding two hundred a year. It is not the amount of income, so much as the good use of it, that marks the true man; and viewed inthis light, good sense, good taste, and sound mental culture, are amongthe best of all economists. 

The late Dr. Aiton said that his father brought up a still larger familyon only half the income of the Earl of Buchan. The following dedication, prefixed to his work on "Clerical Economics, " is worthy of beingremembered: "This work is respectfully dedicated to a Father, now in theeighty-third year of his age, who, on an income which never exceeded ahundred pounds yearly, educated, out of a family of twelve children, four sons to liberal professions, and who has often sent his lastshilling to each of them, in their turn, when they were at college. "

The author might even cite his own case as an illustration of theadvantages of thrift. His mother was left a widow, when her youngestchild--the youngest of eleven--was only three weeks old. Notwithstandinga considerable debt on account of a suretyship, which was paid, shebravely met the difficulties of her position, and perseveringly overcamethem. Though her income was less than that of many highly paid workingmen, she educated her children well, and brought them up religiously andvirtuously. She put her sons in the way of doing well, and if they havenot done so, it was through no fault of hers. 

Hume, the historian, was a man of good family; but being a youngerbrother, his means were very small. His father died while he was aninfant; he was brought up by his mother, who devoted herself entirely tothe rearing and educating of her children. At twenty-three, young Humewent to France to prosecute his studies. "There, " says he, in hisAutobiography, "I laid down that plan of life which I have steadily andsuccessfully pursued. I resolved to make a very rigid frugality supplymy deficiency of fortune, to maintain unimpaired my independency, and toregard every object as contemptible, except the improvement of mytalents in literature. " The first book he published was a completefailure. But he went on again; composed and published another book, which was a success. But he made no money by it. He became secretary tothe military embassy at Vienna and Turin; and at thirty-six he thoughthimself rich. These are his own words: "My appointments, with myfrugality, had made me reach a fortune which I called independent, though most of my friends were inclined to smile when I said so: inshort, I was now master of near a thousand pounds. " Every one knows thata thousand pounds, at five per cent. , means fifty pounds a year; andHume considered himself independent with that income. His friend AdamSmith said of him: "Even in the lowest state of his fortune, his greatand necessary frugality never hindered him from exercising, upon properoccasions, acts both of charity and generosity. It was a frugalityfounded not on avarice, but upon the love of independency. "

But one of the most remarkable illustrations of Thrift is to be found inthe history of the Rev. Robert Walker--the _Wonderful_ Robert Walker, ashe is still called in the district of Cumberland where he resided. Hewas curate of Leathwaite during the greater part of last century. Theincome of the curacy, at the time of his appointment (1735), was onlyfive pounds a year. His wife brought him a fortune of forty pounds. Isit possible that he could contrive to live upon his five pounds a year, the interest of his wife's fortune, and the result of his labours as aclergyman? Yes, he contrived to do all this; and he not only lived well, though plainly, but he saved money, which he left for the benefit of hisfamily. He accomplished all this by means of industry, frugality, andtemperance. 

First, about his industry. He thoroughly did the work connected with hiscuracy. The Sabbath was in all respects regarded by him as a holy day. After morning and evening service, he devoted the evening to reading theScriptures and family prayer. On weekdays, he taught the children of theparish, charging nothing for the education, but only taking so much asthe people chose to give him. The parish church was his school; andwhile the children were repeating their lessons by his side, he was, like Shenstone's schoolmistress, engaged in spinning wool. He had theright of pasturage upon the mountains for a few sheep and a couple ofcows, which required his attendance. With this pastoral occupation hejoined the labours of husbandry, for he rented two or three acres ofland in addition to his own acre of glebe, and he also possessed agarden, --the whole of which was tilled by his own hand. The fuel of thehouse consisted of peat, procured by his labour from the neighbouringmosses. He also assisted his parishioners in haymaking and shearingtheir flocks, --in which latter art he was eminently dexterous. Inreturn, the neighbours would present him with a haycock, or a fleece, asa general acknowledgment of his services. 

After officiating as curate of Leathwaite for about twenty years, theannual value of the living was increased to seventeen pounds tenshillings. His character being already well known and highlyappreciated, the Bishop of Carlisle offered Mr. Walker the appointmentof the adjoining curacy of Ulpha; but he conscientiously refused it, onthe ground that the annexation "would be apt to cause a generaldiscontent among the inhabitants of both places, by either thinkingthemselves slighted, being only served alternately, or neglected in theduty, or attributing it to covetousness in me; all which occasions ofmurmuring I would willingly avoid. " Yet at this time Mr. Walker had afamily of eight children. He afterwards maintained one of his sons atTrinity College Dublin, until he was ready for taking Holy Orders. 

The parish pastor was, of course, a most economical man. Yet no act ofhis life savoured in the least degree of meanness or avarice. On theother hand, his conduct throughout life displayed the greatestdisinterestedness and generosity. He knew very little of luxuries, andhe cared less. Tea was only used in his house for visitors. The familyused milk, which was indeed far better. Excepting milk, the only otherdrink used in the house was water--clear water drawn from the mountainspring. The clothing of the family was comely and decent; but it was allhome-made: it was simple, like their diet. Occasionally one of themountain sheep was killed for purposes of food; and towards the end ofthe year, a cow was killed and salted down for provision during winter. The hide was tanned, and the leather furnished shoes for the family. Bythese and other means, this venerable clergyman reared his numerousfamily; not only preserving them, as he so affectingly says, "fromwanting the necessaries of life, " but affording them "an unstintededucation, and the means of raising themselves in society. "[1]

Many men, in order to advance themselves in the world, and to raisethemselves in society, have "scorned delights and lived laborious days. "They have lived humbly and frugally, in order to accomplish greaterthings. They have supported themselves by their hand labour, until theycould support themselves by their head labour. Some may allege that thisis not justifiable--that it is a sin against the proletariat to attemptto rise in the world, --that "once a cobbler always a cobbler. " But, until a better system has been established, the self-application ofindividuals is the only method by which science and knowledge can beconquered, and the world permanently advanced. 

Goethe says, "It is perfectly indifferent within what circle an honestman acts, provided he do but know how to understand and completely fillout that circle;" and again, "An honest and vigorous will could makeitself a path and employ its activity to advantage under every form ofsociety. " "What is the best government?" he asks: "That which teaches usto govern ourselves!" All that we need, in his opinion, is individualliberty, and self-culture. "Let every one, " he says, "only do the rightin his place, without troubling himself about the turmoil of the world. "

[Footnote 1: The best account of Mr. Walker is to be found in theAppendix to the Poems of Wordsworth. The poet greatly appreciated theclergyman's character, and noticed him in his "Excursion, " as well as inthe Notes to the Sonnets entitled "The River Duddon. "]

At all events, it is not by socialism, but by individualism, thatanything has been done towards the achievement of knowledge, and theadvancement of society. It is the will and determination of individualmen that impels the world forward in art, in science, and in all themeans and methods of civilization. 

Individual men are willing to deny themselves, but associatedcommunities will not. The masses are too selfish, and fear thatadvantage will be taken of any sacrifices which they may be called uponto make. Hence it is amongst the noble band of resolute spirits that welook for those who raise and elevate the world, as well as themselves. The recollection of what they have done, acts as a stimulus to others. It braces the mind of man, reanimates his will, and encourages him tofurther exertions. 

When Lord Elcho addressed the East Lothian colliers, he named severalmen who had raised themselves from the coalpit; and first of all hereferred to Mr. Macdonald, member for Stafford. "The beginning of myacquaintance with Mr. Macdonald, " he said, "was, when I was told that aminer wanted to see me in the lobby of the House of Commons. I went outand saw Mr. Macdonald, who gave me a petition from this district, whichhe asked me to present. I entered into conversation with him, and wasmuch struck by his intelligence. He told me that he had begun life as aboy in the pit in Lanarkshire, and that the money he saved as a youth inthe summer, he spent at Glasgow University in the winter; and that iswhere he got whatever book-learning or power of writing he possesses. Isay that is an instance that does honour to the miners of Scotland. Another instance was that of Dr. Hogg, who began as a pitman in thiscounty; worked in the morning, attended school in the afternoon; thenwent to the University for four years and to the Theological Hall forfive years; and afterwards, in consequence of his health failing, hewent abroad, and is now engaged as a missionary in Upper Egypt. Or takethe case of Mr. (now Sir George) Elliot, member for North Durham, whohas spoken up for the miners all the better, for having had practicalknowledge of their work. He began as a miner in the pit, and he workedhis way up till he has in his employment many thousand men. He has risento his great wealth and station from the humblest position; as every manwho now hears me is capable of doing, to a greater or less degree, if hewill only be thrifty and industrious. "

Lord Elcho might also have mentioned Dr. Hutton, the geologist, a man ofa much higher order of genius; who was the son of a coal-viewer. Bewick, the wood engraver, is also said to have been the son of a coal-miner. Dr. Campbell was the son of a Loanhead collier: he was the forerunner ofMoffat and Livingstone, in their missionary journeys among the Bechuanasin South Africa. Allan Ramsay, the poet, was also the son of a miner. 

George Stephenson worked his way from the pithead to the highestposition as an engineer. George began his life with industry, and whenhe had saved a little money, he spent it in getting a little learning. What a happy man he was, when his wages were increased to twelveshillings a week. He declared upon that occasion that he was "made a manfor life!" He was not only enabled to maintain himself upon hisearnings, but to help his poor parents, and to pay for his owneducation. When his skill had increased, and his wages were advanced toa pound a week, he immediately began, like a thoughtful, intelligentworkman, to lay by his surplus money; and when he had saved his firstguinea, he proudly declared to one of his colleagues that he "was now arich man!"

And he was right. For the man who, after satisfying his wants, hassomething to spare, is no longer poor. It is certain that from that dayStephenson never looked back; his advance as a self-improving man was assteady as the light of sunrise. A person of large experience has indeedstated that he never knew, amongst working people, a single instance ofa man having out of his small earnings laid by a pound, who had in theend become a pauper. 

When Stephenson proposed to erect his first locomotive, he had notsufficient means to defray its cost. But in the course of his life as aworkman, he had established a character. He was trusted. He wasfaithful. He was a man who could be depended on. Accordingly, when theEarl of Havensworth was informed of Stephenson's desire to erect alocomotive, he at once furnished him with the means for enabling him tocarry his wishes into effect. 

Watt, also, when inventing the condensing steam-engine, maintainedhimself by making and selling mathematical instruments. He made flutes, organs, compasses, --anything that would maintain him, until he hadcompleted his invention. At the same time he was perfecting his owneducation--learning French, German, mathematics, and the principles ofnatural philosophy. This lasted for many years; and by the time thatWatt developed his steam-engine and discovered Mathew Boulton, he had, by his own efforts, become an accomplished and scientific man. 

These great workers did not feel ashamed of labouring with their handsfor a living; but they also felt within themselves the power of doinghead-work as well as hand-work. And while thus labouring with theirhands, they went on with their inventions, the perfecting of which hasproved of so much advantage to the world. Hugh Miller furnished, in hisown life, an excellent instance of that practical common sense in thebusiness of life which he so strongly recommended to others. When hebegan to write poetry, and felt within him the growing powers of aliterary man, he diligently continued his labour as a stone-cutter. 

Horace Walpole has said that Queen Caroline's patronage of Stephen Duck, the thresher poet, ruined twenty men, who all turned poets. It was notso with the early success of Hugh Miller. "There is no more fatalerror, " he says, "into which a working man of a literary turn can fall, than the mistake of deeming himself too good for his humble employments;and yet it is a mistake as common as it is fatal. I had already seenseveral poor wrecked mechanics, who, believing themselves to be poets, and regarding the manual occupation by which they could alone live inindependence as beneath them, and become in consequence little betterthan mendicants, --too good to work for their bread, but not too goodvirtually to beg it; and looking upon them as beacons of warning, Idetermined that, with God's help, I should give their error a wideoffing, and never associate the idea of meanness with an honest calling, or deem myself too good to be independent. "

At the same time, a man who feels that he has some good work in him, which study and labour might yet bring out, is fully justified indenying himself, and in applying his energies to the culture of hisintellect. And it is astonishing how much carefulness, thrift, thereading of books, and diligent application, will help such men onward. 

The author in his boyhood knew three men who worked in an agriculturalimplement maker's shop. They worked in wood and iron, and made carts, ploughs, harrows, drilling-machines, and such-like articles. Somehow orother, the idea got into their heads that they might be able to dosomething better than making carts and harrows. They did not despise thelot of hand-labour, but they desired to use it as a step towardssomething better. Their wages at that time could not have exceeded fromeighteen to twenty shillings a week. 

Two of the young men, who worked at the same bench, contrived to saveenough money to enable them to attend college during the winter. At theend of each session they went back to their hand-labour, and earnedenough wages during the summer to enable them to return to their classesduring the winter. The third did not adopt this course. He joined amechanics' institute which had just been started in the town in which helived. By attending the lectures and reading the books in the library, he acquired some knowledge of chemistry, of the principles of mechanics, and of natural philosophy. He applied himself closely, studied hard inhis evening hours, and became an accomplished man. 

It is not necessary to trace their history; but what they eventuallyarrived at, may be mentioned. Of the first two, one became the teacherand proprietor of a large public school; the other became a well-knowndissenting minister; while the third, working his way strenuously andbravely, became the principal engineer and manager of the largeststeamship company in the world. 

Although mechanics' institutes are old institutions, they have scarcelybeen supported by working men. The public-house is more attractive andmore frequented. And yet mechanics' institutes--even though they arescarcely known south of Yorkshire and Lancashire--have been the means ofdoing a great deal of good. By placing sound mechanical knowledge withinthe reach of even the few persons who have been disposed to takeadvantage of them, they have elevated many persons into positions ofgreat social influence. "We have heard a distinguished man say publicly, that a mechanics' institution had _made him_; that but for the accesswhich it had afforded him to knowledge of all kinds, he would haveoccupied a very different position. In short, the mechanics' institutionhad elevated him from the position of a licensed victualler to that ofan engineer. 

We have referred to the wise practice of men in humble positionmaintaining themselves by their trade until they saw a way towardsmaintaining themselves by a higher calling. Thus Herschell maintainedhimself by music, while pursuing his discoveries in astronomy. Whenplaying the oboe in the pump-room at Bath, he would retire while thedancers were lounging round the room, go out and take a peep at theheavens through his telescope, and quietly return to his instrument. Itwas while he was thus maintaining himself by music, that he discoveredthe Georgium Sidus. When the Royal Society recognized his discovery, theoboe-player suddenly found himself famous. 

Franklin long maintained himself by his trade of printing. He was ahard-working man, --thrifty, frugal and a great saver of time. He workedfor character as much as for wages; and when it was found that he couldbe relied on, he prospered. At length he was publicly recognized as agreat statesman, and as one of the most scientific men of his time. 

Ferguson, the astronomer, lived by portrait painting, until his meritsas a scientific man were recognized. John Dollond maintained himself asa silk weaver in Spitalfields. In the course of his studies he madegreat improvements in the refracting telescope; and the achromatictelescope, which he invented, gave him a high rank among thephilosophers of his age. But during the greater part of his life, whilehe was carrying on his investigations, he continued, until the age offorty-six, to carry on his original trade. At length he confined himselfentirely to making telescopes; and then he gave up his trade of a silkweaver. Winckelmann, the distinguished writer on classical antiquitiesand the fine arts, was the son of a shoemaker. His father endeavoured, as long as he could, to give his hoy a learned education; but becomingill and worn-out, he had eventually to retire to the hospital. Winckelmann and his father were once accustomed to sing at night in thestreets to raise fees to enable the boy to attend the grammar school. The younger Winckelmann then undertook, by hard labour, to support hisfather; and afterwards, by means of teaching, to keep himself atcollege. Every one knows how distinguished he eventually became. 

Samuel Richardson, while writing his novels, stuck to his trade of abookseller. He sold his books in the front shop, while he wrote them inthe back. He would not give himself up to authorship, because he lovedhis independence. "You know, " he said to his friend Defreval, "how mybusiness engages me. You know by what snatches of time I write, that Imay not neglect that, and that I may preserve that independency which isthe comfort of my life. I never sought out of myself for patrons. My ownindustry and God's providence have been my whole reliance. The great arenot great to me unless they are good, and it is a glorious privilegethat a middling man enjoys, who has preserved his independency, and canoccasionally (though not stoically) tell the world what he thinks ofthat world, in hopes to contribute, though by his mite, to mend it. "

The late Dr. Olynthus Gregory, in addressing the Deptford Mechanics'Institution at their first anniversary, took the opportunity ofmentioning various men in humble circumstances (some of whom he had beenable to assist), who, by means of energy, application, and self-denial, had been able to accomplish great things in the acquisition ofknowledge. Thus he described the case of a Labourer on the turnpikeroad, who had become an able Greek scholar; of a Fifer, and a PrivateSoldier, in a regiment of militia, both self-taught mathematicians, oneof whom became a successful schoolmaster, the other a lecturer onnatural philosophy; of a journeyman Tin-plate worker, who invented rulesfor the solution of cubic equations; of a country Sexton, who became ateacher of music, and who, by his love of the study of musical science, was transformed from a drunken sot to an exemplary husband and father;of a Coal Miner (a correspondent of Dr. Gregory's), who was an ablewriter on topics of the higher mathematics; of another correspondent, alabouring Whitesmith, who was also well acquainted with the course ofpure mathematics, as taught at Cambridge, Dublin, and the militarycolleges; of a Tailor, who was an excellent geometrician, and haddiscovered curves which escaped the notice of Newton, and who labouredindustriously and contentedly at his trade until sixty years of age, when, by the recommendation of his scientific friends, he was appointedNautical Examiner at the Trinity House; of a ploughman in Lincolnshire, who, without aid of men or books, discovered the rotation of the earth, the principles of spherical astronomy, and invented a planetary systemakin to the Tychonic; of a country Shoemaker, who became distinguishedas one of the ablest metaphysical writers in Britain, and who, at morethan fifty years of age, was removed by the influence of his talents andtheir worth, from his native country to London, where he was employed toedit some useful publications devoted to the diffusion of knowledge andthe best interests of mankind. 

Students of Art have had to practise self-denial in many ways. QuentinMatsys, having fallen in love with a painter's daughter, and determinedto win her. Though but a blacksmith and a farrier, he studied art sodiligently, and acquired so much distinction, that his mistressafterwards accepted the painter whom she had before rejected as theblacksmith. Flaxman, however, married his wife before he had acquiredany distinction whatever as an artist. He was merely a skilful andpromising pupil. When Sir Joshua Reynolds heard of his marriage, heexclaimed, "Flaxman is ruined for an artist!" But it was not so. WhenFlaxman's wife heard of the remark, she said, "Let us work andeconomize; I will never have it said that Ann Denbam ruined John Flaxmanas an artist. " They economized accordingly. To earn money, Flaxmanundertook to collect the local rates; and what with art and industry, the patient, hard-working, thrifty couple, after five years of carefulsaving, set out for Rome together. There Flaxman studied and worked;there he improved his knowledge of art; and there he acquired thereputation of being the first of English sculptors. 

The greater number of artists have sprung from humble life. If they hadbeen born rich, they would probably never have been artists. They havehad to work their way from one position to another; and to strengthentheir nature by conquering difficulty. Hogarth began his career byengraving shop-bills. William Sharp began by engraving door-plates. Tassie the sculptor and medallist, began life as a stone-cutter. Havingaccidentally seen a collection of pictures, he aspired to become anartist and entered an academy to learn the elements of drawing. Hecontinued to work at his old trade until he was able to maintain himselfby his new one. He used his labour as the means of cultivating his skillin his more refined and elevated profession. 

Chantry of Sheffield, was an economist both of time and money. He savedfifty pounds out of his earnings as a carver and gilder; paid the moneyto his master, and cancelled his indentures. Then he came up to London, and found employment as a journeyman carver; he proceeded to paintportraits and model busts, and at length worked his way to the firstposition as a sculptor. 

Canova was a stone-cutter, like his father and his grandfather; andthrough stone-cutting he worked his way to sculpture. After leaving thequarry, he went to Venice, and gave his services to an artist, from whomhe received but little recompense for his work. "I laboured, " said he, "for a mere pittance, but it was sufficient. It was the fruit of my ownresolution; and, as I then flattered myself, the foretaste of morehonourable rewards, --for I never thought of wealth. " He pursued hisstudies, --in drawing and modelling; in languages, poetry, history, antiquity, and the Greek and Roman classics. A long time elapsed beforehis talents were recognised, and then he suddenly became famous. 

Lough, the English sculptor, is another instance of self-denial and hardwork. When a boy, he was fond of drawing. At school, he made drawings ofhorses, dogs, cows, and men, for pins: that was his first pay; and heused to go home with his jacket sleeve stuck full of them. He and hisbrothers next made figures in clay. Pope's Homer lay on his father'swindow. The boys were so delighted with it, that they made thousands ofmodels--one taking the Greeks, and the other the Trojans. An odd volumeof Gibbon gave an account of the Coliseum. After the family were in bed, the brothers made a model of the Coliseum, and filled it with fightinggladiators. As the boys grew up, they were sent to their usual outdoorwork, following the plough and doing the usual agricultural labour; butstill adhering to their modelling at leisure hours. At Christmas-time, Lough was very much in demand. Everybody wanted him to make models inpastry for Christmas pies, --the neighbouring farmers especially, "It wascapital practice, " he afterwards said. 

At length Lough went from Newcastle to London, to push his way in theworld of art. He obtained a passage in a collier, the skipper of whichhe knew. When he reached London, he slept on board the collier as longas it remained in the Thames. He was so great a favourite with the men, that they all urged him to go back. He had no friends, no patronage, nomoney; What could he do with everything against him? But, having alreadygone so far, he determined to proceed. He would not go back--at least, not yet. The men all wept when he took farewell of them. He was alone inLondon; under the shadow of St. Paul's. 

His next step was to take a lodging in an obscure first floor inBurleigh Street, over a greengrocer's shop; and there he began to modelhis grand statue of Milo. He had to take the roof off to let Milo's headout. There Haydon found him, and was delighted with his genius. "Iwent, " he says, "to young Lough, the sculptor, who has just burst out, and has produced a great effect. His Milo is really the mostextraordinary thing, considering all the circumstances, in modernsculpture. It is another proof of the efficacy of inherent genius. " [1]That Lough must have been poor enough at this time, is evident from thefact that, during the execution of his Milo, he did not eat meat forthree months; and when Peter Coxe found him out, he was tearing up hisshirt to make wet rags for his figure, to keep the clay moist. He had abushel and a half of coals during the whole winter; and he used to liedown by the side of his clay model of the immortal figure, damp as itwas, and shiver for hours till he fell asleep. 

[Footnote 1: Haydon's _Autobiography_, vol. Ii. , p, 155. ]

Chantrey once said to Haydon, "When I have made money enough, I willdevote myself to high art. " But busts engrossed Chantrey's time. He wasmunificently paid for them, and never raised himself above themoney-making part of his profession. When Haydon next saw Chantrey atBrighton, he said to him, "Here is a young man from the country, who hascome to London; and he is doing precisely what you have so long beendreaming of doing. "

The exhibition of Milo was a great success. The Duke of Wellington wentto see it, and ordered a statue. Sir Matthew White Eidley was muchstruck by the genius of young Lough, and became one of his greatestpatrons. The sculptor determined to strike out a new path for himself. He thought the Greeks had exhausted the Pantheistic, and that heathengods had been overdone. Lough began and pursued the study of lyricsculpture: he would illustrate the great English poets. But there wasthe obvious difficulty of telling the story of a figure by a singleattitude. It was like a flash of thought. "The true artist, " he said, "must plant his feet firmly on the earth, and sweep the heavens with hispencil. I mean, " he added, "that the soul must be combined with thebody, the ideal with the real, the heavens with the earth. "

It is not necessary to describe the success of Mr. Lough as a sculptor. His statue of "The Mourners" is known all over the world. He hasillustrated Shakespeare and Milton. His Puck, Titania, and other greatworks, are extensively known, and their genius universally admired. Butit may be mentioned that his noble statue of Milo was not cast in bronzeuntil 1862, when it was exhibited at the International Exhibition ofthat year. 

The Earl of Derby, in recently distributing the prizes to the successfulpupils of the Liverpool College[1], made the following observations:--

"The vast majority of men, in all ages and countries, must work beforethey can eat. Even those who are not under the necessity, are, inEngland, generally impelled by example, by custom, perhaps by a sense ofwhat is fitted for them, to adopt what is called an active pursuit ofsome sort.... If there is one thing more certain than another, it isthis--that every member of a community is bound to do something for thatcommunity, in return for what he gets from it; and neither intellectualcultivation, nor the possession of material wealth, nor any other pleawhatever, except that of physical or mental incapacity, can excuse anyof us from that plain and personal duty.... And though it may be, in acommunity like this, considered by some to be a heterodox view, I willsay that it often appears to me, in the present day, that we are alittle too apt in all classes to look upon ourselves as mere machinesfor what is called 'getting on, ' and to forget that there are in everyhuman being many faculties which cannot be employed, and many wantswhich cannot be satisfied, by that occupation. I have not a word toutter against strenuous devotion to business while you are at it. Butone of the wisest and most thoroughly cultivated men whom I ever knew, retired before the age of fifty, from a profession in which he wasmaking an enormous income, because, he said, he had got as much as he orany one belonging to him could want, and he did not see why he shouldsacrifice the rest of his life to money-getting. Some people thought himvery foolish. I did not. And I believe that the gentleman of whom Ispeak never once repented his decision. "

[Footnote 1: A collection ought to be made and published of Lord Derby'sadmirable Addresses to Young Men. ]

The gentleman to whom Lord Derby referred was Mr. Nasmyth, the inventorof the steam hammer. And as he has himself permitted the story of hislife to be published, there is no necessity for concealing his name. Hislife is besides calculated to furnish one of the best illustrations ofour subject. When a boy, he was of a bright, active, cheerfuldisposition. To a certain extent he inherited his mechanical powers fromhis father, who, besides being an excellent painter, was a thoroughmechanic. It was in his workshop that the boy made his firstacquaintance with tools. He also had for his companion the son of aniron-founder, and he often went to the founder's shop to watch themoulding, iron-melting, casting, forging, pattern-making, and smith'swork that was going on. 

"I look back, " Mr. Nasmyth says, "to the hours of Saturday afternoonsspent in having the run of the workshops of this small foundry as thetrue and only apprenticeship of my life. I did not trust to readingabout such things. I saw, handled, and helped when I could; and all theideas in connection with them became in all details, ever after, permanent in my mind, --to say nothing of the no small acquaintanceobtained at the same time of the nature of workmen. "

In course of time, young Nasmyth, with the aid of his father's tools, could do little jobs for himself. He made steels for tinder-boxes, whichhe sold to his schoolfellows. He made model steam-engines, and sectionalmodels, for use at popular lectures and in schools; and by selling suchmodels, he raised sufficient money to enable him to attend the lectureson Natural Philosophy and Chemistry at the Edinburgh University. Amonghis works at that time, was a working model of a steam carriage for useon common roads. It worked so well that he was induced to make anotheron a larger scale. After having been successfully used, he sold theengine for the purpose of driving a small factory. 

Nasmyth was now twenty years old, and wished to turn his practicalfaculties to account. His object was to find employment in one of thegreat engineering establishments of the day. The first, in his opinion, was that of Henry Maudslay, of London. To attain his object, he made asmall steam-engine, every part of which was his own handiwork, includingthe casting and forging. He proceeded to London; introduced himself tothe great engineer; submitted his drawings; showed his models; and wasfinally engaged as Mr. Maudslay's private workman. 

Then came the question of wages. When Nasmyth finally left home to beginthe world on his own account, he determined _not to cost his fatheranother farthing_. Being the youngest of eleven children, he thoughtthat he could maintain himself, without trenching farther upon thefamily means. And he nobly fulfilled his determination. He felt that thewages sufficient to maintain other workmen, would surely be sufficientto maintain him. He might have to exercise self-control and self-denial;but of course he could do that. Though but a youth, he had wisdom enoughand self-respect enough to deny himself everything that was unnecessary, in order to preserve the valuable situation which he had obtained. 

Well, about the wages. When Mr. Maudslay referred his young workman tothe chief cashier as to his weekly wages, it was arranged that Nasmythwas to receive ten shillings a week. He knew that, by strict economy, hecould live within this amount. He contrived a small cooking apparatus, of which we possess the drawings. It is not necessary to describe hismethod of cooking, nor his method of living; it is sufficient to saythat his little cooking apparatus (in which he still takes great pride)enabled him fully to accomplish his purpose. He lived within his means, and did not cost his father another farthing. 

Next year his wages were increased to fifteen shillings. He then beganto save money. He did not put it in a bank, but used his savings for thepurpose of making the tools with which he afterwards commenced business. In the third year of his service, his wages were again increased, onaccount, doubtless, of the value of his services. "I don't know, " he hassince said, "that any future period of my life abounded in such highenjoyment of existence as the three years I spent at Maudslay's. It wasa glorious situation for one like myself, --so earnest as I was in allthat related to mechanism--in the study of men as well as of machinery. I wish many a young man would do as I then did. I am sure they wouldfind their reward in that feeling of constant improvement, of dailyadvancement, and true independence, which will ever have a charm forthose who are earnest in their endeavours to make right progress in lifeand in the regard of all good men. "

After three years spent at Maudslay's, Mr. Nasmyth returned to Edinburghto construct a small stock of engineering tools suitable for startinghim in business on his own account. He hired a workshop and did variousengineering jobs, in order to increase his little store of money and toexecute his little stock of tools. This occupied him for two years; andin 1834 he removed the whole of his tools and machinery to Manchester. He began business there in a very humble way, but it increased sorapidly that he was induced to remove to a choice piece of land on thebanks of the Bridgewater Canal at Patricroft, and there make abeginning--at first in wooden sheds--of the now famous BridgewaterFoundry. 

"There, " says he, "I toiled right heartily until December 31st, 1856, when I retired to enjoy, in _active_ leisure, the result of many ananxious and interesting day. I had there, with the blessing of God, devoted the best years of my life to the pursuit of a business of whichI was proud. And I trust that, without undue vanity, I may be allowed tosay that I have left my mark upon several useful inventions, whichprobably have had no small share in the mechanical works of the age. There is scarcely a steamship or locomotive that is not indebted to mysteam hammer; and without it, Armstrong and Whitworth guns andiron-plated men-of-war could scarcely have existed. "

But though Nasmyth retired from business at the age of forty-eight, hedid not seek repose in idleness. He continues to be as busy as thebusiest; but in an altogether different direction. Instead of being tiedto the earth, he enjoys himself amongst the stars. By means oftelescopes of his own making, he has investigated the sun, anddiscovered its "willow leaves;" he has examined and photographed themoon, and in the monograph of it which he has published, he has made usfully acquainted with its geography. He is also a thorough artist, andspends a considerable portion of his time in painting, --though he is toomodest to exhibit. The last time we visited his beautiful home atHammerfield, he was busy polishing glasses for one of his newtelescopes, --the motive power being a windmill erected on one of hisouthouses. 

Another word before we have done. "If, " said Nasmyth, "I were to try tocompress into one sentence the whole of the experience I have had duringan active and successful life, and offer it to young men as a rule andcertain receipt for success in any station, it would be composed inthese words--'Duty _first!_ Pleasure _second!_' From what I have seen ofyoung men and their after-progress, I am satisfied that what isgenerally termed 'bad fortune, ' 'ill luck, ' and 'misfortune, ' is in ninecases out of ten, simply the result of _inverting_ the above simplemaxim. Such experience as I have had, convinces me that absence ofsuccess arises in the great majority of cases from want of self-denialand want of common sense. The worst of all maxims is 'Pleasure _first!_Work and Duty _second!_"

CHAPTER VI. 

METHODS OF ECONOMY. 

"It was with profound wisdom that the Romans called by the same namecourage and virtue. There is in fact no virtue, properly so called, without victory over ourselves; and what cost us nothing, is worthnothing. "--_De Maistre_. 

"Almost all the advantages which man possesses above the inferioranimals, arise from his power of acting in combination with his fellows;and of accomplishing by the united efforts of numbers what could not beaccomplished by the detached efforts of indivduals. "--_J. S. Mill_. 

"For the future, our main security will be in the wider diffusion ofProperty, and in all such measures as will facilitate this result. Withthe possession of property will come Conservative instincts, anddisinclination for rash and reckless schemes.... We trust much, therefore, to the rural population becoming Proprietors, and to theurban population becoming Capitalists. "--_W. R. Greg_. 

The methods of practising economy are very simple. Spend less than youearn. That is the first rule. A portion should always be set apart forthe future. The person who spends more than he earns, is a fool. Thecivil law regards the spendthrift as akin to the lunatic, and frequentlytakes from him the management of his own affairs. 

The next rule is to pay ready money, and never, on any account, to runinto debt. The person who runs into debt is apt to get cheated; and ifhe runs into debt to any extent, he will himself be apt to getdishonest. "Who pays what he owes, enriches himself. "

The next is, never to anticipate uncertain profits by expending thembefore they are secured. The profits may never come, and in that caseyou will have taken upon yourself a load of debt which you may never getrid of. It will sit upon your shoulders like the old man in Sinbad. 

Another method of economy is, to keep a regular account of all that youearn, and of all that you expend. An orderly man will know beforehandwhat he requires, and will be provided with the necessary means forobtaining it. Thus his domestic budget will be balanced; and hisexpenditure kept within his income. 

John Wesley regularly adopted this course. Although he possessed a smallincome, he always kept his eyes upon the state of his affairs. A yearbefore his death, he wrote with a trembling hand, in his Journal ofExpenses; "For more than eighty-six years I have kept my accountsexactly. I do not care to continue to do so any longer, having theconviction that I economize all that I obtain, and give all that Ican, --that is to say, all that I have. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Southey's _Life of Wesley_, vol. Ii. , p. 560. ]

Besides these methods of economy, the eye of the master or the mistressis always necessary to see that nothing is lost, that everything is putto its proper use and kept in its proper place, and that all things aredone decently and in order. It does no dishonour to even the highestindividuals to take a personal interest in their own affairs. And withpersons of moderate means, the necessity for the eye of the masteroverlooking everything, is absolutely necessary for the proper conductof business. 

It is difficult to fix the precise limits of economy. Bacon says that ifa man would live well within his income, he ought not to expend morethan one-half, and save the rest. This is perhaps too exacting; andBacon himself did not follow his own advice. What proportion of one'sincome should be expended on rent? That depends upon circumstances. Inthe country about one-tenth; in London about one-sixth. It is at allevents better to save too much, than spend too much. One may remedy thefirst defect, but not so easily the latter. Wherever there is a largefamily, the more money that is put to one side and saved, the better. 

Economy is necessary to the moderately rich, as well as to thecomparatively poor man. Without economy, a man cannot be generous. Hecannot take part in the charitable work of the world. If he spends allthat he earns, he can help nobody. He cannot properly educate hischildren, nor put them in the way of starting fairly in the business oflife. Even the example of Bacon shows that the loftiest intelligencecannot neglect thrift without peril. But thousands of witnesses dailytestify, that men even of the most moderate intelligence, can practisethe virtue with success. 

Although Englishmen are a diligent, hard-working, and generallyself-reliant race, trusting to themselves and their own efforts fortheir sustenance and advancement in the world, they are yet liable tooverlook and neglect some of the best practical methods of improvingtheir position, and securing their social well-being. They are not yetsufficiently educated to be temperate, provident, and foreseeing. Theylive for the present, and are too regardless of the coming time. Men whoare husbands and parents, generally think they do their duty if theyprovide for the hour that is, neglectful of the hour that is to come. Though industrious, they are improvident; though money-making, they arespendthrift. They do not exercise forethought enough, and are defectivein the virtue of prudent economy. 

Men of all classes are, as yet, too little influenced by theseconsiderations. They are apt to live beyond their incomes, --at allevents, to live up to them, The upper classes live too much for display;they must keep up their "position in society;" they must have finehouses, horses, and carriages; give good dinners, and drink rich wines, their ladies must wear costly and gay dresses. Thus the march ofimprovidence goes on over broken hearts, ruined hopes, and wastedambitions. 

The vice descends in society, --the middle classes strive to ape thepatrician orders; they flourish crests, liveries, and hammercloths;their daughters must learn "accomplishments"--see "society"--ride anddrive--frequent operas and theatres. Display is the rage, ambitionrivalling ambition; and thus the vicious folly rolls on like a tide. Thevice again descends. The working classes, too, live up to theirmeans--much smaller means, it is true; but even when they are able, theyare not sufficiently careful to provide against the evil day; and thenonly the poorhouse offers its scanty aid to protect them against want. 

To save money for avaricious purposes is altogether different fromsaving it for economical purposes. The saving may be accomplished in thesame manner--by wasting nothing, and saving everything. But here thecomparison ends. The miser's only pleasure is in saving. The prudenteconomist spends what he can afford for comfort and enjoyment, and savesa surplus for some future time. The avaricious person makes gold hisidol: it is his molten calf, before which he constantly bows down;whereas the thrifty person regards it as a useful instrument, and as ameans of promoting his own happiness and the happiness of those who aredependent upon him. The miser is never satisfied. He amasses wealth thathe can never consume, but leaves it to be squandered by others, probablyby spendthrifts; whereas the economist aims at securing a fair share ofthe world's wealth and comfort, without any thought of amassing afortune. 

It is the duty of all persons to economize their means, --of the young aswell as of the old. The Duke of Sully mentions, in his Memoirs, thatnothing contributed more to his fortune than the prudent economy whichhe practised, even in his youth, of always preserving some ready moneyin hand for the purpose of meeting circumstances of emergency. Is a manmarried? Then the duty of economy is still more binding. His wife andchildren plead to him most eloquently. Are they, in the event of hisearly death, to be left to buffet with the world unaided? The hand ofcharity is cold, the gifts of charity are valueless, compared with thegains of industry, and the honest savings of frugal labour, which carrywith them blessings and comforts, without inflicting any wound upon thefeelings of the helpless and bereaved. Let every man, therefore, whocan, endeavour to economize and to save; not to hoard, but to nurse hislittle savings, for the sake of promoting the welfare and happiness ofhimself while here, and of others when he has departed. 

There is a dignity in the very effort to save with a worthy purpose, even though the attempt should not be crowned with eventual success. Itproduces a well-regulated mind; it gives prudence a triumph overextravagance; it gives virtue the mastery over vice; it puts thepassions under control; it drives away care; it secures comfort. Savedmoney, however little, will serve to dry up many a tear--will ward offmany sorrows and heartburnings, which otherwise might prey upon us. Possessed of a little store of capital, a man walks with a lighterstep--his heart beats more cheerily. When interruption of work oradversity happens, he can meet them; he can recline on his capital, which will either break his fall, or prevent it altogether. Byprudential economy, we can realize the dignity of man; life will be ablessing, and old age an honour. We can ultimately, under a kindProvidence, surrender life, conscious that we have been no burden uponsociety, but rather, perhaps, an acquisition and ornament to it;conscious, also, that as we have been independent, our children afterus, by following our example, and availing themselves of the means wehave left behind us, will walk in like manner through the world inhappiness and independence. 

Every man's first duty is, to improve, to educate, and elevatehimself--helping forward his brethren at the same time by all reasonablemethods. Each has within himself the capability of free will and freeaction to a large extent; and the fact is proved by the multitude of menwho have successfully battled with and overcome the adversecircumstances of life in which they have been placed; and who have risenfrom the lowest depths of poverty and social debasement, as if to provewhat energetic man, resolute of purpose, can do for his own elevation, progress, and advancement in the world. Is it not a fact that thegreatness of humanity, the glory of communities, the power of nations, are the result of trials and difficulties encountered and overcome?

Let a man resolve and determine that he will advance, and the first stepof advancement is already made. The first step is half the battle. Inthe very fact of advancing himself, he is in the most effectual possibleway advancing others. He is giving them the most eloquent of alllessons--that of example; which teaches far more emphatically than wordscan teach. He is doing, what others are by imitation incited to do. Beginning with himself, he is in the most emphatic manner teaching theduty of self-reform and of self-improvement; and if the majority of menacted as he did, how much wiser, how much happier, how much moreprosperous as a whole, would society become. For, society being made upof units, will be happy and prosperous, or the reverse, exactly in thesame degree as the respective individuals who compose it. 

Complaints about the inequality of conditions are as old as the world. In the "Economy" of Xenophon, Socrates asks, "How is it that some menlive in abundance, and have something to spare, whilst others canscarcely obtain the necessaries of life, and at the same time run intodebt?" "The reason is, " replied Isomachus, "because the former occupythemselves with their business, whilst the latter neglect it. "

The difference between men consists for the most part in intelligence, conduct, and energy. The best character never works by chance, but isunder the influence of virtue, prudence, and forethought. 

There are, of course, many failures in the world. The man who looks toothers for help, instead of relying on himself, will fail. The man whois undergoing the process of perpetual waste, will fail. The miser, thescrub, the extravagant, the thriftless, will necessarily fail. Indeed, most people fail because they do not deserve to succeed. They set abouttheir work in the wrong way, and no amount of experience seems toimprove them. There is not so much in luck as some people profess tobelieve. Luck is only another word for good management in practicalaffairs. Richelieu used to say that he would not continue to employ anunlucky man, --in other words, a man wanting in practical qualities, andunable to profit by experience; for failures in the past are very oftenthe auguries of failures in the future. 

Some of the best and ablest of men are wanting in tact. They willneither make allowance for circumstances, nor adapt themselves tocircumstances: they will insist on trying to drive their wedge the broadend foremost. They raise walls only to run their own heads against. Theymake such great preparations, and use such great precautions, that theydefeat their own object, --like the Dutchman mentioned by WashingtonIrving, who, having to leap a ditch, went so far back to have a good runat it, that when he came up he was completely winded, and had to sitdown on the wrong side to recover his breath. 

In actual life, we want things done, not preparations for doing them;and we naturally prefer the man who has definite aims and purposes, andproceeds in the straightest and shortest way to accomplish his object, to the one who describes the thing to be done, and spins fine phrasesabout doing it. Without action, words are mere maundering. 

The desire for success in the world, and even for the accumulation ofmoney, is not without its uses. It has doubtless been implanted in thehuman heart for good rather than for evil purposes. Indeed the desire toaccumulate, forms one of the most powerful instruments for theregeneration of society. It provides the basis for individual energy andactivity. It is the beginning of maritime and commercial enterprise. Itis the foundation of industry, as well as of independence. It impels mento labour, to invent, and to excel. 

No idle nor thriftless man ever became great. It is amongst those whonever lost a moment, that we find the men who have moved and advancedthe world, --by their learning, their science, or their inventions. Labour of some sort is one of the conditions of existence. The thoughthas come down to us from pagan times, that "Labour is the price whichthe gods have set upon all that is excellent. " The thought is alsoworthy of Christian times. 

Everything depends, as we shall afterwards find, upon the uses to whichaccumulations of wealth are applied. On the tombstone of John Donough, of New Orleans, the following maxims are engraved as the merchant'sguide to young men on their way through life:--

"Remember always that labour is one of the conditions of our existence. 

"Time is gold; throw not one minute away, but place each one toaccount. 

"Do unto all men as you would be done by. 

"Never put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day. 

"Never bid another do what you can do yourself. 

"Never covet what is not your own. 

"Never think any matter so trifling as not to deserve notice. 

"Never give out what does not come in. 

"Do not spend, but produce. 

"Let the greatest order regulate the actions of your life. 

"Study in your course of life to do the greatest amount of good. 

"Deprive yourself of nothing that is necessary to your comfort, butlive in honourable simplicity and frugality. 

"Labour then to the last moment of your existence. "

Most men have it in their power, by prudent arrangements, to defendthemselves against adversity, and to throw up a barrier againstdestitution. They can do this by their own individual efforts, or byacting on the principle of co-operation, which is capable of an almostindefinite extension. People of the most humble condition, by combiningtheir means and associating together, are enabled in many ways to defendthemselves against the pressure of poverty, to promote their physicalwell-being, and even to advance the progress of the nation. 

A solitary individual may be able to do very little to advance andimprove society; but when he combines with his fellows for the purpose, he can do a very great deal. Civilization itself is but the effect ofcombining. Mr. Mill has said that "almost all the advantages which manpossesses over the inferior animals, arise from his power of acting incombination with his fellows, and of accomplishing, by the unitedefforts of numbers, what could not be accomplished by the detachedefforts of individuals. "

The secret of social development is to be found in co-operation; and thegreat question of improved economical and social life can only receive asatisfactory solution through its means. To effect good on a largescale, men must combine their efforts; and the best social system isthat in which the organization for the common good is rendered the mostcomplete in all respects. 

The middle classes have largely employed the principle of association. No class has risen so rapidly, or done more by their energy and industryto advance the power and progress of England. And why? Because the mostactive have always been the most ready to associate, to co-operate, andto combine. They have combined when they were attacked, combined whenthey had an abuse to destroy, or a great object to accomplish. They haveassociated together to manufacture articles of commerce, to make canals, to construct railways, to form gas companies, to institute insurance andbanking companies, and to do an immense amount of industrial work. Bycombining their small capitals together, they have been able toaccumulate an enormous aggregate capital, and to execute the mostgigantic undertakings. 

The middle classes have accomplished more by the principle ofco-operation than the classes who have so much greater need of it. Allthe joint stock companies are the result of association. The railways, the telegraphs, the banks, the mines, the manufactories, have for themost part been established and are carried on by means of the savings ofthe middle classes. 

The working classes have only begun to employ the same principle. Yethow much might they accomplish by its means! They might co-operate insaving as well as in producing. They might, by putting their savedearnings together, become, by combination, their own masters. Within afew years past, many millions sterling have been expended in strikes forwages. A hundred millions a year are thrown away upon drink and otherunnecessary articles. Here is an enormous capital. Men who expend orwaste such an amount can easily become capitalists. It requires onlywill, energy, and self-denial. So much money spent on buildings, plant, and steam-engines, would enable them to manufacture for themselves, instead of for the benefit of individual capitalists. The steam-engineis impartial in its services. It is no respecter of persons; it willwork for the benefit of the labourer as well as for the benefit of themillionaire. It will work for those who make the best use of it, and whohave the greatest knowledge of its powers. 

The greater number of workmen possess little capital save their labour;and, as we have already seen, many of them uselessly and wastefullyspend most of their earnings, instead of saving them and becomingcapitalists. By combining in large numbers for the purposes ofeconomical working, they might easily become capitalists, and operateupon a large scale. As society is now constituted, every man is not onlyjustified but bound in duty as a citizen, to accumulate his earnings byall fair and honourable methods, with the view of securing a position ofultimate competence and independence. 

We do not say that men should save and hoard their gains for the meresake of saving and hoarding; this would be parsimony and avarice. But wedo say that all men ought to aim at accumulating a sufficiency--enoughto maintain them in comfort during the helpless years that are tocome--to maintain them in times of sickness and of sorrow, and in oldage, which, if it does come, ought to find them with a little store ofcapital in hand, sufficient to secure them from dependence upon thecharity of others. 

Workmen are for the most part disposed to associate; but the associationis not always of a healthy kind. It sometimes takes the form of Unionsagainst masters; and displays itself in the Strikes that are so common, and usually so unfortunate. Workmen also strike against men of their ownclass, for the purpose of excluding them from their special calling. Oneof the principal objects of trades-unions is to keep up wages at theexpense of the lower paid and unassociated working people. Theyendeavour to prevent poorer men learning their trade, and thus keep thesupply of labour below the demand. [1] This system may last for a time, but it becomes ruinous in the end. 

[Footnote 1: On the 31st January, 1875, a labourer in the employment ofMessrs. Vickers, Sheffield, who had not served an apprenticeship, wasput on to turn one of the lathes. This being contrary to the rules ofthe union, the men in the shop struck work. It is a usual course for menof the union to "strike" in this manner against persons of their owncondition, and to exercise a force not resting in law or natural right, but merely on the will of a majority, and directly subversive of thefreedom of the individual. ]

It is not the want of money that prevents skilled workmen from becomingcapitalists, and opening the door for the employment of labouring menwho are poorer and less skilled than themselves. The work-people threwaway half a million sterling during the Preston strike, after which theywent back to work at the old terms. The London building trades threwaway over three hundred thousand pounds during their strike; and evenhad they obtained the terms for which they struck, it would have takensix years to recoup them for their loss. The colliers in the Forest ofDean went back to work at the old terms after eleven weeks' play, at theloss of fifty thousand pounds. The iron-workers of Northumberland andDurham, after spending a third of the year in idleness, and losing twohundred thousand pounds in wages, went back to work at a reduction often per cent. The colliers and iron-workers of South Wales, during therecent strike or lock-out, were idle for four months, and, according toLord Aberdare, lost, in wages alone, not less than three millionssterling!

Here, then, is abundance of money within the power ofworking-men, --money which they might utilize, but do not. Think only ofa solitary million, out of the three millions sterling which they threwaway during the coal strike, being devoted to the starting ofcollieries, or iron-mills, or manufactories, to be worked byco-operative production for the benefit of the operatives themselves. With frugal habits, says Mr. Greg, the well-conditioned workman might inten years easily have five hundred pounds in the bank; and, combininghis savings with twenty other men similarly disposed, they might haveten thousand pounds for the purpose of starting any manufacture in whichthey are adepts. [1]

[Footnote 1: "The annual expenditure of the working classes alone, ondrink and tobacco, is not less than £60, 000, 000. Every year, therefore, the working classes have it in their power to become capitalists(_simply by saving wasteful and pernicious expenditure_) to an extentwhich would enable them to start at least 500 cotton mills, or coalmines, or iron works, _on their own account_, or to purchase at least500, 000 acres, and so set up 50, 000 families each with a nice littleestate of their own of ten acres, on fee simple. No one can dispute thefacts. No one can deny the inference. "--_Quarterly Review, _ No. 263. ]

That this is not an impracticable scheme, is capable of being easilyproved. The practice of co-operation has long been adopted by workpeoplethroughout England. A large proportion of the fishery industry has beenconducted on that principle for hundreds of years. Fishermen join inbuilding, rigging, and manning a boat; the proceeds of the fish theycatch at sea is divided amongst them--so much to the boat, so much tothe fishermen. The company of oyster-dredgers of Whitstable "has existedtime out of mind, "[2] though it was only in 1793 that they wereincorporated by Act of Parliament. The tin-miners of Cornwall have alsoacted on the same principle. They have mined, washed, and sold the tin, dividing the proceeds among themselves in certain proportions, --mostprobably from the time that the Phoenicians carried away the produce totheir ports in the Mediterranean. 

[Footnote 2: Reports on the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, vol. Vi. , p. 252. ]

In our own time, co-operation has been practised to a considerableextent. In 1795, the Hull Anti-Mill Industrial Society was founded. Thereasons for its association are explained in the petition addressed tothe Mayor and Aldermen of Hull by the first members of the society. Thepetition begins thus: "We, the poor inhabitants of the said town, havelately experienced much trouble and sorrow in ourselves and families, onthe occasion of the exorbitant price of flour; and though the price ismuch reduced at present, yet we judge it needful to take everyprecaution to preserve ourselves from the invasions of covetous andmerciless men in future. " They accordingly entered into a subscriptionto build a mill, in order to supply themselves with flour. Thecorporation granted their petition, and supported them by liberaldonations. The mill was built, and exists to this day. It now consistsof more than four thousand members, each holding a share of twenty-fiveshillings. The members belong principally to the labouring classes. Themillers endeavoured by action at law to put down the society, but theattempt was successfully resisted. The society manufactures flour, andsells it to the members at market price, dividing the profits annuallyamongst the shareholders, according to the quantity consumed in eachmember's family. The society has proved eminently remunerative. 

Many years passed before the example of the "poor inhabitants" of Hullwas followed. It was only in 1847 that the co-operators of Leedspurchased a flour-mill, and in 1850 that those of Rochdale did the same;since which time they have manufactured flour for the benefit of theirmembers. The corn-millers of Leeds attempted to undersell the LeedsIndustrial Society. They soon failed, and the price of flour waspermanently reduced. The Leeds mill does business amounting to more thana hundred thousand pounds yearly; its capital amounts to twenty-twothousand pounds; and it paid more than eight thousand pounds of profitsand bonuses to its three thousand six hundred members in 1866, besidessupplying them with flour of the best quality. The Rochdale DistrictCo-operative Corn-mill Society has also been eminently successful. Itsupplies flour to consumers residing within a radius of about fifteenmiles round Rochdale[1]. It also supplies flour to sixty-twoco-operative societies, numbering over twelve thousand members. Itsbusiness in 1866 amounted to two hundred and twenty-four thousandpounds, and its profits to over eighteen thousand pounds. 

[Footnote 1: Its history is given in the Reports above referred to, p. 269. ]

The Rochdale Corn-mill grew out of the Rochdale Equitable PioneersSociety, which formed an epoch in the history of industrial co-operativeinstitutions. The Equitable Pioneers Society was established in the year1844, at a time when trade was in a very bad condition, and workingpeople generally were heartless and hopeless as to their future state. Some twenty-eight or thirty men, mostly flannel weavers, met and formedthemselves into a society for the purpose of economizing their hard-wonearnings. It is pretty well known that working-men generally pay atleast ten per cent. More for the articles they consume, than they needto do under a sounder system. Professor Fawcett estimates their loss atnearer twenty per cent. Than ten per cent. At all events, theseworking-men wished to save this amount of profit, which before went intothe pockets of the distributers of the necessaries, --in other words, into the pockets of the shopkeepers. 

The weekly subscription was twopence each; and when about fifty-twocalls of twopence each had been made, they found that they were able tobuy a sack of oatmeal, which they distributed at cost-price amongst themembers of the society. The number of members grew, and thesubscriptions so increased, that the society was enabled to buy tea, sugar, and other articles, and distribute them amongst the members atcost-price. They superseded the shopkeepers, and became their owntradesmen. They insisted from the first on payments in cash. No creditwas given. 

The society grew. It established a store for the sale of food, firing, clothes, and other necessaries. In a few years the members set on footthe Co-operative Corn-mill. They increased the capital by the issue ofone-pound shares, and began to make and sell clothes and shoes. Theyalso sold drapery. But the principal trade consisted in the purchase andsale of provisions--butchers' meat, groceries, flour, and such-like. Notwithstanding the great distress during the period of the cottonfamine, the society continued to prosper. From the first, it set apart aportion of its funds for educational purposes, and established anews-room, and a library, which now contains over six thousand volumes. 

The society continued to increase until it possessed eleven branches forthe sale of goods and stores in or near Rochdale, besides the originaloffice in Toad Lane. At the end of 1866, it had 6, 246 members, and acapital of £99, 908. Its income for goods sold and cash received duringthe year was £249, 122; and the gross profit £31, 931. 

But this was not all. Two and a half per cent. Was appropriated from thenet profits to support the news-rooms and library; and there are noweleven news and reading rooms at different places in or near the townwhere the society carries on its business; the sum devoted to thisobject amounting to over seven hundred pounds per annum. The membersplay at chess and draughts, and use the stereoscopic views, microscopes, and telescopes placed in the libraries. No special arrangements havebeen made to promote temperance; but the news-rooms and library exercisea powerful and beneficial influence in promoting sobriety. It has beensaid that the society has done more to remove drunkenness from Rochdalethan all that the advocates of temperance have been able to effect. 

The example of the Rochdale Pioneers has exercised a powerful influenceon working-men throughout the northern counties of England. There isscarcely a town or village but has a co-operative institution of onekind or another. These societies have promoted habits of saving, ofthrift, and of temperance. They have given the people an interest inmoney matters, and enabled them to lay out their earnings to the bestadvantage. They have also given the working people some knowledge ofbusiness; for the whole of their concerns are managed by committeesselected at the general meetings of the members. 

One of the most flourishing co-operative societies is that establishedat Over Darwen. The society has erected a row of handsome buildings inthe centre of the town. The shops for the sale of provisions, groceries, clothing, and other necessaries, occupy the lower story. Over the shopsare the library, reading rooms, and class rooms, which are open to themembers and their families. The third story consists of a large publichall, which is used for lectures, concerts, and dances. There are sixbranches of the society established in different parts of the town. Alarge amount of business is done, and the profits are very considerable. These are divided amongst the members, in proportion to the purchasesmade by them. The profits are for the most part re-invested injoint-stock paper-mills, cotton-mills, and collieries, in theneighbourhood of Darwen. One of the most praiseworthy features of thesociety is the provision made for the free education of the members andtheir families. Two and a half per cent. Of the profits are appropriatedfor the purpose. While inspecting the institution a few months ago, wewere informed that the Science classes were so efficiently conducted, that one of the pupils had just obtained a Government Scholarship offifty pounds a year, for three years, including free instruction at theSchool of Mines, Jermyn Street, London, with a free use of thelaboratories during that period. There are also two other co-operativeinstitutions in the same place; and we were informed that the workingpeople of Darwen are, for the most part, hard-working, sober, andthrifty. 

The example has also spread into Scotland and the south of England. AtNorthampton, a co-operative society exists for the purpose of buying andselling leather, and also for the manufacture of boots and shoes. AtPadiham and other places in Lancashire, co-operative cotton-mills havebeen established. The Manchester and Salford Equitable Co-operativeSociety "combine the securities and facilities of a bank with theprofits of a trade. " But the business by which they mostly thrive, is bythe purchase and sale of food, provisions, groceries, draperies, andother articles, with the exception of intoxicating liquors. 

The sole secret of their success consists in "ready money. " They give nocredit. Everything is done for cash; the profit of the trade beingdivided amongst the members. Every business man knows that cash paymentis the soundest method of conducting business. The Rochdale Pioneershaving discovered the secret, have spread it amongst their class. Intheir "advice to members of this and other societies, " they say: "Lookwell after money matters. Buy your goods as much as possible in thefirst markets; or if you have the produce of your industry to sell, contrive, if possible, to sell it in the last. Never depart from theprinciple of buying and selling for ready money. Beware of longreckonings. " In short, the co-operative societies became tradesmen on alarge scale; and, besides the pureness of the food sold, their profitconsisted in the discount for cash payments, which was divided amongstthe members. 

Land and Building Societies constitute another form of co-operation. These are chiefly supported by the minor middle-class men, but also to aconsiderable extent by the skilled and thrifty working-class men. Bytheir means portions of land are bought, and dwelling-houses are built. By means of a building society, a person who desires to possess a houseenters the society as a member, and instead of paying his rent to thelandlord, pays his subscriptions and interest to a committee of hisfriends; and in course of time, when his subscriptions are paid up, thehouse is purchased, and conveyed to him by the society. Thebuilding-society is thus a savings bank, where money accumulates for acertain purpose. But even those who do not purchase a house, receive adividend and bonus on their shares, which sometimes amounts to aconsiderable sum. 

The accumulation of property has the effect which it always has uponthrifty men; it makes them steady, sober, and diligent. It weans themfrom revolutionary notions, and makes them conservative. When workmen, by their industry and frugality, have secured their own independence, they will cease to regard the sight of others' well-being as a wronginflicted on themselves; and it will no longer be possible to makepolitical capital out of their imaginary woes. 

It has been said that Freehold Land Societies, which were establishedfor political objects, had the effect of weaning men from politicalreform. They were first started in Birmingham, for the purpose ofenabling men to buy land, and divide it into forty-shilling freeholds, so that the owners might become electors and vote against the corn-laws. The corn-laws have been done away with; but the holders of freehold landstill exist, though many of them have ceased to be politicians. "Mr. Arthur Ryland informs me, " said Mr. Holyoake, in a recent paper onBuilding Societies, "that in Birmingham, numbers of persons under theinfluence of these societies have forsaken patriotism for profits. And Iknow both co-operators and Chartists who were loud-mouthed for socialand political reform, who now care no more for it than a Whiggovernment; and decline to attend a public meeting on a fine night, while they would crawl like the serpent in Eden, through a gutter in astorm, after a good security. They have tasted land, and the gravel hasgot into their souls. "

"Yet to many others, " he adds, "these societies have taught a healthyfrugality they never else would have known; and enabled many anindustrious son to take to his home his poor old father--who expectedand dreaded to die in the workhouse--and set him down to smoke his pipein the sunshine in the garden, of which the land and the house belongedto his child. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Paper read at York Meeting of the National Society forPromoting Social Science, 26th Sept. 1864. ]

The Leeds Permanent Building Society, which has furnished healthytenements for about two hundred families, sets forth the followingrecommendations of the influence which it has exercised amongst theworking classes of that town: "It is truly cheering to hear the membersthemselves, at occasional meetings tell how, from small savings hithertodeemed too little for active application, they began to invest in thesociety: then to build or buy; then to advance in life, and come tocompetence, from extending their savings in this manner.... Theprovident habits and knowledge thus induced are most beneficial to themembers. And the result is, that the careless become thoughtful, and, onsaving, become orderly, respectable, propertied, and in every way bettercitizens, neighbours, and more worthy and comfortable. The employment ofmoney in this useful direction encourages trade, advances prices andwages, comforts the working classes, and at the same time provides themeans of home enjoyments, without which such advances would becomparatively useless, and certainly uncertain. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Letter of Mr. John Holmes, in Reports of Paris UniversalExhibition, 1867 vol. Vi. , p. 240. ]

There are also exceptional towns and villages in Lancashire where largesums of money have been saved by the operatives for buying or buildingcomfortable cottage dwellings. Last year Padiham saved about fifteenthousand pounds for this purpose, although its population is only about8, 000. Burnley has also been very successful. The Building Society therehas 6, 600 investors, who saved last year £160, 000 or an average oftwenty-four pounds for each investor. The members consist principally ofmill operatives, miners, mechanics, engineers, carpenters, stonemasons, and labourers. They also include women, both married and unmarried. Ourinformant states that "great numbers of the working classes havepurchased houses in which to live. They have likewise bought houses as ameans of investment. The building society has assisted in hundreds ofthese cases, by advancing money on mortgage, --such mortgages beingrepaid by easy instalments. "

Building Societies are, on the whole, among the most excellent methodsof illustrating the advantages of Thrift. They induce men to save moneyfor the purpose of buying their own homes; in which, so long as theylive, they possess the best of all securities. 

CHAPTER VII. 

ECONOMY IN LIFE ASSURANCE. 

"Do not, for one repulse, forego the purposeThat you resolved to effect. "--_Shakespeare_. 

"We are helpers, fellow-creatures, Of the right against the wrong. "--_E. Barrett_. 

"Life was not given us to be all used up in the pursuit of what we mustleave behind us when we die. "--_Joseph May_. 

"Le bonheur ou le malheur de la vielillesse n'est souvent que l'extraitde notre vie passée. " (The blessedness or misery of old age is often butthe extract of our past life. ) _De Maistre_. 

Two other methods of co-operative saving remain to be mentioned. Thefirst is by Life Assurance, which enables widows and children to beprovided for at the death of the assured; and the second is by FriendlySocieties, which enable working men to provide themselves with relief insickness, and their widows and orphans with a small sum at their death. The first method is practised by the middle and upper classes; and thesecond by the working classes. 

It might possibly take a long time to save enough money to provide forthose who are dependent upon us; and there is always the temptation toencroach upon the funds set apart for death, which--as most peoplesuppose--may be a far-distant event. So that saving bit by bit, fromweek to week, cannot always be relied upon. 

The person who joins an assurance society is in a different position. His annual or quarterly saving becomes at once a portion of a generalfund, sufficient to realize the intention of the assured. At the momentthat he makes his first payment, his object is attained. Though he dieon the day after his premium has been paid, his widow and children willreceive the entire amount of his assurance. 

This system, while it secures a provision to his survivors, at the sametime incites a man to the moral obligation of exorcising foresight andprudence, since through its means these virtues may be practised, andtheir ultimate reward secured. Not the least of the advantages attendinglife assurance is the serenity of mind which attends the provident manwhen lying on a bed of sickness, or when he is in prospect of death, --sounlike that painful anxiety for the future welfare of a family, whichadds poignancy to bodily suffering, and retards or defeats the power ofmedicine. The poet Burns, in writing to a friend a few days before hisdeath, said that he was "still the victim of affliction. Alas! Clark, Ibegin to fear the worst. Burns' poor widow, and half a dozen of his dearlittle ones helpless orphans;--there, I am weak as a woman's tear. Enough of this, --_'tis half my disease_!"

Life assurance may be described as a joint-stock plan for securingwidows, and children from want. It is an arrangement by means of which alarge number of persons agree to lay by certain small sums called"premiums, " yearly, to accumulate at interest, as in a savings bank, against the contingency of the assurer's death, --when the amount of thesum subscribed for is forthwith handed over to his survivors. By thismeans, persons possessed of but little capital, though enjoying regularwages or salaries, however small, may at once form a fund for thebenefit of their family at death. 

We often hear of men who have been diligent and useful members ofsociety, dying and leaving their wives and families in absolute poverty. They have lived in respectable style, paid high rents for their houses, dressed well, kept up good visiting acquaintance, were seen at mostplaces of amusement, and brought up their children with certain ideas ofsocial position and respectability; but death has stricken them down, and what is the situation of their families? Has the father provided fortheir future? From twenty to twenty-five pounds a year, paid into anAssurance Society, would have secured their widows and orphans againstabsolute want. Have they performed this duty? No--they have done nothingof the kind; it turns out that the family have been living up to theirmeans, if not beyond them, and the issue is, that they are thrownsuddenly bankrupt upon the world. 

Conduct such as this is not only thoughtless and improvident, butheartless and cruel in the last degree. To bring a family into theworld, give them refined tastes, and accustom them to comforts, the lossof which is misery, and then to leave the family to the workhouse, theprison, or the street--to the alms of relatives, or to the charity ofthe public, --is nothing short of a crime done against society, as wellas against the unfortunate individuals who are the immediate sufferers. 

It will be admitted, that the number of men who can lay by a sufficientstore of capital for the benefit of their families, is, in these timesof intense competition, comparatively small. Perhaps the claims of anincreasing family absorb nearly all their gains, and they find that thesum which they can put away in the bank is so small, that it is not putaway at all. They become reckless of ever attaining so apparentlyhopeless an object as that of an accumulation of savings, for thebenefit of their families at death. 

Take the case of a married man with a family. He has begun business, andthinks that if his life were spared, he might in course of years be ableto lay by sufficient savings to provide for his wife and family at hisdeath. But life is most uncertain, and he knows that at any moment hemay be taken away, --leaving those he holds most dear comparativelydestitute. At thirty he determines to join a sound life office. Heinsures for five hundred pounds, payable to his survivors at his death, and pays from twelve to thirteen pounds yearly. From the moment on whichhe pays that amount, the five hundred pounds are secured for his family, although he died the very next day. 

Now, if he had deposited this twelve or thirteen pounds yearly in abank, or employed it at interest, it would have taken about twenty yearsbefore his savings would have amounted to five hundred pounds. But bythe simple and beautiful expedient of life assurance, these twenty-sixyears of the best part of his life are, on this account at least, secured against anxiety and care. The anticipation of future evil nolonger robs him of present enjoyment. By means of his annual fixedpayment--which decreases according to the profits of the society--he issecure of leaving a fixed sum at his death for the benefit of hisfamily. 

In this way, life assurance may be regarded in the light of a contract, by which the inequalities of life are to a certain extent averaged andcompensated, so that those who die soon--or rather theirfamilies--become sharers in the good fortune of those who live beyondthe average term of life. And even should the assurer himself livebeyond the period at which his savings would have accumulated to morethan the sum insured, he will not be disposed to repine, if he takesinto account his exemption from corroding solicitude during so manyyears of his life. 

The reasons which induce a man to insure his house and stock of goodsagainst the accident of fire, ought to be still more imperative ininducing him to insure his life against the accident of disease and thecontingency of sudden death. What is worldly prudence in the one case, is something more in the other; it has superadded to it the duty ofproviding for the future maintenance of a possibly widowed wife, andorphaned children; and no man can justly stand excused who neglects sogreat and binding an obligation. Is it an obligation on the part of ahusband and father to provide daily bread for his wife and childrenduring his life? Then it is equally an obligation on his part to providemeans for their adequate support in event of his death. The duty is soobvious, the means of performing it are so simple, and are now so easilyplaced within the reach of all men, --the arrangement is so eminentlypractical, rational, benevolent, and just, --it is, moreover, socalculated to increase every wise and prudent man's sense ofself-respect, and to encourage him in the performance of all propersocial duties, --that we cannot conceive of any possible objection thatcan be urged against it; and it is only to be regretted that thepractice is not far more general and customary than it is, amongst allclasses of the community. [1]

[Footnote 1: It may be mentioned that the total amount assured inexisting British offices, mostly by the middle classes, is about threehundred and fifty millions sterling; and that the annual premiumspayable amount to not less than eleven millions sterling. And yet nomore than one person in twenty of the persons belonging to the classesto whom Life Assurance is especially applicable, have yet availedthemselves of its benefits. ]

The Friendly or Benefit Societies of the working classes are alsoCo-operative Societies under another form. They cultivate the habit ofprudent self-reliance amongst the people, and are consequently worthy ofevery encouragement. It is certainly a striking fact that some fourmillions of working men should have organized themselves into voluntaryassociations for the purpose of mutual support in time of sickness anddistress. These societies are the outgrowth in a great measure of theEnglish love of self-government and social independence, --inillustration of which it maybe stated, that whereas in France only oneperson in seventy-six is found belonging to a benefit society, and inBelgium one in sixty-four, the proportion in England is found to be onein nine. The English societies are said to have in hand funds amountingto more than eleven millions sterling; and they distribute reliefamongst their members, provided by voluntary contributions out of theirweekly earnings, amounting to above two millions yearly. 

Although the working classes of France and Belgium do not belong tobenefit societies to anything like the same extent, it must be stated, in their justification, that they are amongst the most thrifty andprudent people in the world. They invest their savings principally inland and in the public funds. The French and Belgians have a positivehunger for land. They save everything that they can for the purpose ofacquiring more. And with respect to their investments in the publicfunds, it may be mentioned, as a well-known fact, that it was the Frenchpeasantry who, by investing their savings in the National Defence Loan, liberated French soil from the tread of their German conquerors. [1]

[Footnote 1: At the present time one individual out of every eight inthe population of France has a share in the National Debt, the averageamount held being 170 francs. The participants in the debt approachclosely to the number of freeholders, or rather distinct freeholdings, which amount to 5, 550, 000, according to the last return. Francecertainly furnishes a singular exception to those countries of Centraland Western Europe, where "the rich are getting more rich and the poorever more poor. " In France wealth becomes more and more distributedamong the bulk of the population. ]

English benefit societies, notwithstanding their great uses andbenefits, have numerous defects. There are faults in the details oftheir organization and management, whilst many of them are financiallyunsound. Like other institutions in their early stages, they have beententative and in a great measure empirical, --more especially as regardstheir rates of contribution and allowances for sick relief. The rateshave in many cases been fixed too low, in proportion to the benefitsallowed; and hence the "box" is often declared to be closed, after themoney subscribed has been expended. The society then comes to an end, and the older members have to go without relief for the rest of theirlives. But life assurance societies themselves have had to undergo thesame discipline of failure, and the operation of "winding up" has notunfrequently thrown discredit upon these middle-class associations. 

To quote the words of the Registrar of Friendly Societies, in a recentreport: "Though the information thus far obtained is not veryencouraging as to the general system of management; on the whole, perhaps, the results of the investments of the poor are not worse thanthose which noblemen, members of Parliament, merchants, professedfinanciers, and speculators have contrived to attain in their managementof railways, joint-stock banks, and enterprises of all kinds. "

The workmen's societies originated for the most part in a common want, felt by persons of small means, unable to accumulate any considerablestore of savings to provide against destitution in the event ofdisablement by disease or accident. At the beginning of life, personsearning their bread by daily labour are able to save money withdifficulty. Unavoidable expenses absorb their limited means and pressheavily on their income. When unable to work, any little store they mayhave accumulated is soon spent, and if they have a family to maintain, there is then no choice before them but destitution, begging, orrecourse to the poor-rates. In their desire to avoid either of thesealternatives, they have contrived the expedient of the benefit society. By combining and putting a large number of small contributions together, they have found it practicable thus to provide a fund sufficiently largeto meet their ordinary requirements during sickness. 

The means by which this is accomplished are very simple. Each membercontributes to a common fund at the rate of from fourpence to sixpence aweek, and out of this fund the stipulated allowance is paid. Mostbenefit societies have also a Widows' and Orphans' Fund, raised in likemanner, out of which a sum is paid to the survivors of members at theirdeath. It will be obvious that such organizations, however faulty theymay be in detail, cannot fail to exercise a beneficial influence uponsociety at large. The fact that one of such associations, the ManchesterUnity of Odd Fellows, numbers about half a million of members; possessesa funded capital amounting to £3, 706, 366; and distributes in sick reliefand payments of sums at death above £300, 000 a year, illustrates in astriking light their beneficial action upon the classes for whom and bywhom they have been established. By their means, working men are enabledto secure the results of economy at a comparatively small cost. For, mutual assurance is economy in its most economical form; and merelypresents another illustration of that power of co-operation which isworking out such extraordinary results in all departments of society, and is in fact but another name for Civilization. 

Many persons object to Friendly Societies because they are conducted atpublic-houses; because many of them are got up by the keepers ofpublic-houses in order to obtain custom from the members; and because, in their fortnightly meetings to pay their subscriptions, they acquirethe pernicious habit of drinking, and thus waste quite as much as theysave. The Friendly Societies doubtless rely very much on the socialelement. The public-house is everybody's house. The members can theremeet together, talk together, and drink together. It is extremelyprobable that had they trusted solely to the sense of duty--the duty ofinsuring against sickness--and merely required the members to pay theirweekly contributions to a collector, very few societies of the kindwould have remained in existence. In a large number of cases, there ispractically no choice between the society that meets at a public-house, and none at all. 

It so happens that the world cannot be conducted on superfineprinciples. To most men, and especially to the men we are speaking of, it is a rough, working world, conducted on common principles, such aswill wear. To some it may seem vulgar to associate beer, tobacco, orfeasting with the pure and simple duty of effecting an insurance againstdisablement by sickness; but the world we live in is vulgar, and we musttake it as we find it, and try to make the best of it. It must beadmitted that the tendencies to pure good in man are very weak, and needmuch helping. But the expedient, vulgar though it be, of attracting himthrough his appetite for meat and drink to perform a duty to himself andneighbours, is by no means confined to societies of working men. Thereis scarcely a London charity or institution but has its annual dinnerfor the purpose of attracting subscribers. Are we to condemn theeighteenpenny annual dinner of the poor man, but excuse the guinea oneof the rich?

A vigorous effort was made by Mr. Akroyd of Halifax, in 1856, toestablish a Provident Sick Society and Penny Savings Bank for theworking men in the West Riding of Yorkshire. An organization was set onfoot with these objects; and though the Penny Bank proved a completesuccess, the Provident Society proved a complete failure. Mr. Akroydthus explains the causes of the failure: "We found the groundpreoccupied, " he says, "by Friendly Societies, especially by the OddFellows, Druids, Foresters, etc. ; and against their principles ofself-government, mutual check against fraud, and _brotherhood_, no newand independent society can compete. Our rates were also of necessitymuch higher than theirs, and this was perhaps one of the chief causes ofour failure. "

Low rates of contribution have been the principal cause of the failureof Friendly Societies. [1] It was of course natural that the members, being persons of limited means, should endeavour to secure the objectsof their organization at the lowest cost. They therefore fixed theirrates as low as possible; and, as the results proved, they in most casesfixed them _too_ low. So long as the societies consisted, for the mostpart, of young, healthy men, and the average amount of sickness remainedlow, the payments made seemed ample. The funds accumulated, and manyflattered themselves that their societies were in a prosperous state, when they contained the sure elements of decay. For, as the members grewolder, their average liability to sickness was regularly increasing. Theeffects of increased age upon the solvency of benefit clubs soonbecoming known, young men avoided the older societies, and preferredsetting up organizations of their own. The consequence was, that the oldmen began to draw upon their reserves at the same time that the regularcontributions fell off; and when, as was frequently the case, a fewconstantly ailing members kept pressing upon the society, the funds wereat length exhausted, "the box" was declared to be closed, and thesociety was broken up. The real injustice was done to the younger menwho remained in the society. After paying their contributions for manyyears, they found, when sickness at length fell upon them, that thefunds had been exhausted, by expenditure for superannuation and otherallowances, which were not provided for by the rules of the society. 

[Footnote 1: The Registrar of Friendly Societies, in his report for1859, states that from 1793 to 1858, the number of societies enrolledand certified had been 28, 550, of which 6, 850 had ceased to exist. Thecauses of failure in most cases were reported to be, inadequacy of therates of contribution, the granting of pensions as well as sick pay, andno increase of young members. The dissolution of a society, however, isfrequently effected with a view of remodelling it, and starting afreshunder better regulations, and with rates of premium such as increasedknowledge has shown to be necessary for the risks which they have toincur. ]

Even the best of the Benefit Societies have been slow to learn theessential importance of adequate rates of contribution, to enable themto fulfil their obligations and ensure their continued usefulness aswell as solvency. The defect of most of them consists in their trying todo too much with too little means. The benefits paid out are too highfor the rates of contribution paid in. Those who come first are served, but those who come late too often find an empty box. Not only have therates of payment been generally fixed too low, but there has been littleor no discrimination in the selection of members. Men advanced in yearsand of fragile health are often admitted on the same terms as the youngand the healthy, the only difference being in the rate of entry money. Even young lodges, which start with inadequate rates, instead of growingstronger, gradually grow weaker; and in the event of a few constantlyailing members falling upon the funds, they soon become exhausted, andthe lodge becomes bankrupt and is broken up. Such has been the historyof thousands of Friendly Societies, doing good and serving a usefulpurpose in their time, but short-lived, ephemeral, and to many of theirmembers disappointing, and even deceptive. 

Attempts have been recently made--more especially by the officers of theManchester Unity of Odd Fellows--to improve the financial condition oftheir society. Perhaps the best proof of the desire that exists on thepart of the leading minds in the Unity to bring the organization into astate of financial soundness, is to be found in the fact that the Boardof Management have authorized the publication of the best of all datafor future guidance, --namely, the actual sickness experience of theOrder. An elaborate series of tables has accordingly been prepared andpublished for their information by Mr. Ratcliffe, the correspondingsecretary, at an expense of about £3, 500. In the preface to the lastedition it is stated that "this sum has not been abstracted from thefunds set apart for relief during sickness, for assurances at death, orfor providing for necessitous widows and orphans, but from themanagement funds of the lodges--funds which, being generally raised bydirect levy on the members, are not therefore readily expended withoutcareful consideration on the part of those most interested in thecharacter and welfare of their cherished institution. "

We believe that time and experience will enable the leaders of FriendlySocieties generally to improve them, and introduce new ameliorations. The best institutions are things of slow growth, and are shaped byexperience, which includes failures as well as successes; and finally, they require age to strengthen them and root them in habit. The rudestsociety established by working men for mutual help in sickness, independent of help from private charity or the poor-rates, is groundedon a right spirit, and is deserving of every encouragement. It furnishesa foundation on which to build up something better. It teachesself-reliance, and thus cultivates amongst the humblest classes habitsof provident economy. 

Friendly Societies began their operations before there was any scienceof vital statistics to guide them; and if they have made mistakes inmutual assurance, they have not stood alone. Looking at the difficultiesthey have had to encounter, they are entitled to be judged charitably. Good advice given them in a kindly spirit will not fail to produce goodresults. The defects which are mixed up with them are to be regarded asbut the transient integument which will most probably fall away as theflower ripens and the fruit matures. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SAVINGS BANKS. 

"I wish I could write all across the sky, in letters of gold, the oneword SAVINGS BANK. "--_Rev. Win. Marsh_. 

"The only true secret of assisting the poor is to make them agents inbettering their own condition. "--_Archbishop Sumner_. 

"Qui à vingt ne sait, à trente ne peut, à quarante n'a, --jamais nesaura, ne pourra, n'aura. "--_French Proverb_. 

"Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: whichhaving no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest. "--_Proverbs_ vi. 6. 

It is said that there is a skeleton in every household. The skeleton islocked up--put away in a cupboard--- and rarely seen. Only the peopleinside the house know of its existence. But the skeleton, nevertheless, cannot long be concealed. It comes to light in some way or another. Themost common skeleton is Poverty. Poverty, says Douglas Jerrold, is thegreat secret, kept at any pains by one-half the world from the otherhalf. When there is nothing laid by--nothing saved to relieve sicknesswhen it comes--nothing to alleviate the wants of old age, --this is theskeleton hid away in many a cupboard. 

In a country such as this, where business is often brought to astandstill by over-trading and over-speculation, many masters, clerks, and workpeople are thrown out of employment. They must wait until bettertimes come round. But in the meantime, how are they to live? If theyhave accumulated no savings, and have nothing laid by, they arecomparatively destitute. 

Even the Co-operative Cotton-mills, or Co-operative Banks, which arenothing more than Joint-stock Companies, Limited, [1] may becomebankrupt. They may not be able, as was the case during the cottonfamine, to compete with large capitalists in the purchase of cotton, orin the production of cotton twist. Co-operative companies establishedfor the purpose of manufacturing, are probably of too speculative acharacter to afford much lasting benefit to the working classes; and itseems that by far the safer course for them to pursue, in times such asthe present, is by means of simple, direct saving. There may be lesschance of gain, but there is less risk of loss. What is laid by is notlocked up and contingent for its productiveness upon times and trade, but is steadily accumulating, and is always ready at hand for use whenthe pinch of adversity occurs. 

[Footnote 1: "The new cotton factories which have been calledco-operative, and which, under that name, have brought together largenumbers of shareholders of the wage classes, are all now in realitycommon joint-stock companies, with limited liability. The so-calledco-operative shareholders in the leading establishments decided, as I aminformed, by large majorities, that the workers should only be paidwages in the ordinary manner, and should not divide profits. The wagesbeing for piecework, it was held that the payment was in accordance withcommunistic principle, 'each according to his capacity, each accordingto his work. ' The common spinner had had no share in the work of thegeneral direction, nor had he evinced any of the capacity of thrift orforesight of the capitalist, and why should he share profits as if hehad? The wage class, in their capacity of shareholders, decided that itwas an unjust claim upon their profits, and kept them undivided tothemselves. "--_Edwin Chadwick, C. B. _]

Mr. Bright stated in the House of Commons, in 1860, [2] that the incomeof the working classes was "understated at three hundred and twelvemillions a year. " Looking at the increase of wages which has taken placeduring the last fifteen years, their income must now amount to at leastfour hundred millions. 

[Footnote 2: Speech on the Representation of the People Bill. ]

Surely, out of this large fund of earnings, the working classes mighteasily save from thirty to forty millions yearly. At all events, theymight save such an amount as, if properly used and duly economized, could not fail to establish large numbers of them in circumstances ofcomfort and even of comparative wealth. 

The instances which we have already cited of persons in the humblerranks of life having by prudential forethought accumulated aconsiderable store of savings for the benefit of their families, and asa stay for their old age, need not by any means be the comparativelyexceptional cases that they are now. What one well-regulated person isable to do, others, influenced by similar self-reliant motives, andpractising like sobriety and frugality, might with equal ease and in oneway or another accomplish. A man who has more money about him than herequires for current purposes, is tempted to spend it. To use the commonphrase, it is apt to "burn a hole in his pocket. " He may be easilyentrapped into company; and where his home provides but small comfort, the public-house, with its bright fire, is always ready to welcome him. 

It often happens that workmen lose their employment in "bad times. "Mercantile concerns become bankrupt, clerks are paid off, and servantsare dismissed when their masters can no longer employ them. If thedisemployed people have been in the habit of regularly consuming alltheir salaries and wages, without laying anything by, their case isabout the most pitiable that can be imagined. But if they have savedsomething, at home or in the savings bank, they will be enabled to breaktheir fall. They will obtain some breathing-time, before they again fallinto employment. Suppose they have as much as ten pounds saved. It mayseem a very little sum, yet in distress it amounts to much. It may evenprove a man's passport to future independence. 

With ten pounds a workman might remove from one district to anotherwhere employment is more abundant. With ten pounds, he might emigrate toCanada or the United States, where his labour might be in request. Without this little store of savings, he might be rooted to his nativespot, like a limpet to the rock. If a married man with a family, his tenpounds would save his home from wreckage, and his household fromdestitution. His ten pounds would keep the wolf from the door untilbetter times came round. Ten pounds would keep many a servant-girl fromruin, give her time to recruit her health, perhaps wasted by hard work, and enable her to look about for a suitable place, instead of rushinginto the first that offered. 

We do not value money for its own sake, and we should be the last toencourage a miserly desire to hoard amongst any class; but we cannothelp recognizing in money the means of life, the means of comfort, themeans of maintaining an honest independence. We would thereforerecommend every young man and every young woman to begin life bylearning to save; to lay up for the future a certain portion of everyweek's earnings, be it little or much; to avoid consuming every week orevery year the earnings of that week or year; and we counsel them to dothis, as they would avoid the horrors of dependence, destitution, orbeggary. We would have men and women of every class able to helpthemselves--relying upon their own resources--upon their own savings;for it is a true saying that "a penny in the purse is better than afriend at court. " The first penny saved is a step in the world. The factof its being saved and laid by, indicates self-denial, forethought, prudence, wisdom. It may be the germ of future happiness. It may be thebeginning of independence. 

Cobbett was accustomed to scoff at the "bubble" of Savings Banks, alleging that it was an insult to people to tell them that they hadanything to save. Yet the extent to which savings banks _have_ beenused, even by the humblest classes, proves that he was as much mistakenin this as he was in many of the views which he maintained. There arethousands of persons who would probably never have thought of laying bya penny, but for the facility of the savings bank: it would have seemedso useless to try. The small hoard in the cupboard was too ready athand, and would have become dissipated before it accumulated to anyamount; but no sooner was a place of deposit provided, where sums assmall as a shilling could be put away, than people hastened to takeadvantage of it. 

The first savings bank was started by Miss Priscilla Wakefield, in theparish of Tottenham, Middlesex, towards the close of last century, --herobject being mainly to stimulate the frugality of poor children. Theexperiment proved so successful that in 1799 the Rev. Joseph Smith, ofWendon, commenced a plan of receiving small sums from his parishionersduring summer, and returning them at Christmas, with the addition ofone-third as a stimulus to prudence and forethought. Miss Wakefield, inher turn, followed Mr. Smith's example, and in 1804 extended the plan ofher charitable bank, so as to include adult labourers, female servants, and others. A similar institution was formed at Bath, in 1808, byseveral ladies of that city; and about the same time Mr. Whitbreadproposed to Parliament the formation of a national institution, "in thenature of a bank, for the use and advantage of the labouring classesalone;" but nothing came of his proposal. 

It was not until the Rev. Henry Duncan, the minister of Ruthwell, a poorparish in Dumfriesshire, took up the subject, that the savings-banksystem may be said to have become fairly inaugurated. The inhabitants ofthat parish were mostly poor cottagers, whose average wages did notamount to more than eight shillings a week. There were no manufacturesin the district, nor any means of subsistence for the population, exceptwhat was derived from the land under cultivation; and the landownerswere for the most part non-resident. It seemed a very unlikely place inwhich to establish a bank for savings, where the poor people werealready obliged to strain every nerve to earn a bare living, to providethe means of educating their children (for, however small his income, the Scottish peasant almost invariably contrives to save somethingwherewith to send his children to school), and to pay their littlecontributions to the friendly society of the parish. Nevertheless, theminister resolved, as a help to his spiritual instructions, to try theexperiment. 

Not many labouring men may apprehend the deep arguments of the religiousteacher, but the least intelligent can appreciate a bit of practicaladvice that tells on the well-being of his household as well as on thelabourer's own daily comfort and self-respect. Dr. Duncan knew that, even in the poorest family, there were odds and ends of income apt to befrittered away in unnecessary expenditure. He saw some thrifty cottagersusing the expedient of a cow, or a pig, or a bit of garden-ground, as asavings bank, --finding their return of interest in the shape of butterand milk, winter's bacon, or garden produce; and it occurred to him thatthere were other villagers, single men and young women, for whom someanalogous mode of storing away their summer's savings might be provided, and a fair rate of interest returned upon their little investments. 

Hence originated the parish savings bank of Ruthwell, the firstself-supporting institution of the kind established in this country. That the minister was not wrong in his anticipations, was proved by thefact that, in the course of four years, the funds of his savings bankamounted to nearly a thousand pounds. And if poor villagers out of eightshillings a week, and female labourers and servants out of much less, could lay aside this sum, --what might not mechanics, artizans, miners, and iron-workers accomplish, who earn from thirty to fifty shillings aweek all the year round?

The example set by Dr. Duncan was followed in many towns and districtsin England and Scotland. In every instance the model of the Ruthwellparish bank was followed; and the self-sustaining principle was adopted. The savings banks thus instituted, were not eleemosynary institutions, nor dependent upon anybody's charity or patronage; but their successrested entirely with the depositors themselves. They encouraged theindustrious classes to rely upon their own resources, to exerciseforethought and economy in the conduct of life, to cherish self-respectand self-dependence, and to provide for their comfort and maintenance inold age, by the careful use of the products of their industry, insteadof having to rely for aid upon the thankless dole of a begrudgedpoor-rate. 

The establishment of savings banks with these objects, at length beganto be recognized as a matter of national concern; and in 1817 an Act waspassed which served to increase their number and extend theirusefulness. Various measures have since been adopted with the object ofincreasing their efficiency and security. But notwithstanding the greatgood which these institutions have accomplished, it is still obviousthat the better-paid classes of workpeople avail themselves of them toonly a very limited extent. A very small portion of the four hundredmillions estimated to be annually earned by the working classes findsits way to the savings bank, while at least twenty times the amount isspent annually at the beershop and the public-house. 

It is not the highly-paid class of working men and women who investmoney in the savings banks; but those who earn comparatively moderateincomes. Thus the most numerous class of depositors in the Manchesterand Salford Savings Bank is that of domestic servants. After them rankclerks, shopmen, porters, and miners. Only about a third part of thedeposits belong to the operatives, artizans, and mechanics. It is thesame in manufacturing districts generally. A few years since, it wasfound that of the numerous female depositors at Dundee, only one was afactory worker: the rest were for the most part servants. 

There is another fact that is remarkable. The habit of saving does notso much prevail in those counties where wages are the highest, as inthose counties where wages are the lowest. Previous to the era of PostOffice Savings Banks, the inhabitants of Wilts and Dorset--where wagesare about the lowest in England--deposited more money in the savingsbanks, per head of the population, than they did in Lancashire andYorkshire, where wages are about the highest in England. TakingYorkshire itself, and dividing it into manufacturing andagricultural, --the manufacturing inhabitants of the West Riding of Yorkinvested about twenty-five shillings per head of the population in thesavings banks; whilst the agricultural population of the East Ridinginvested about three times that amount. 

Private soldiers are paid much less wages per week than the lowest-paidworkmen, and yet they put more money in the savings banks than workmenwho are paid from thirty to forty shillings a week. Soldiers aregenerally supposed to be a particularly thoughtless class. Indeed, theyare sometimes held up to odium as reckless and dissolute; but theMilitary Savings Bank Returns refute the vilification, and prove thatthe British soldier is as sober, well-disciplined, and frugal, as wealready know him to be brave. Most people forget that the soldier mustbe obedient, sober, and honest. If he is a drunkard, he is punished; ifhe is dishonest, he is drummed out of the regiment. 

Wonderful is the magic of Drill! Drill means discipline, training, education. The first drill of every people is military. It has been thefirst education of nations. The duty of obedience is thus taught on alarge scale, --submission to authority; united action under a commonhead. These soldiers, --who are ready to march steadily against volliedfire, against belching cannon, up fortress heights, or to beat theirheads against bristling bayonets, as they did at Badajos, --were oncetailors, shoemakers, mechanics, delvers, weavers, and ploughmen; withmouths gaping, shoulders stooping, feet straggling, arms and hands likegreat fins hanging by their sides; but now their gait is firm andmartial, their figures are erect, and they march along, to the sound ofmusic, with a tread that makes the earth shake. Such is the wonderfulpower of drill. 

Nations, as they become civilized, adopt other methods of discipline. The drill becomes industrial. Conquest and destruction give place toproduction in many forms. And what trophies Industry has won, what skillhas it exercised, what labours has it performed! Every industrialprocess is performed by drilled bands of artizans. Go into Yorkshire andLancashire, and you will find armies of drilled labourers at work, wherethe discipline is perfect, and the results, as regards the amount ofmanufactured productions turned out of hand, are prodigious. 

On efficient drilling and discipline, men's success as individuals, andas societies entirely depends. The most self-dependent man is underdiscipline, --and the more perfect the discipline, the more complete hiscondition. A man must drill his desires, and keep them undersubjection, --he must obey the word of command, otherwise he is the sportof passion and impulse. The religions man's life is full of disciplineand self-restraint. The man of business is entirely subject to systemand rule. The happiest home is that where the discipline is the mostperfect, and yet where it is the least felt. We at length become subjectto it as to a law of Nature, and while it binds us firmly, yet we feelit not. The force of Habit is but the force of Drill. 

One dare scarcely hint, in these days, at the necessity for compulsoryconscription; and yet, were the people at large compelled to passthrough the discipline of the army, the country would be stronger, thepeople would be soberer, and thrift would become much more habitual thanit is at present. 

Military savings banks were first suggested by Paymaster Fairfowl in1816; and about ten years later the question was again raised by ColonelOglander, of the 26th Foot (Cameronians). The subject was brought underthe notice of the late Duke of Wellington, and negatived; the Dukemaking the following memorandum on the subject: "There is nothing that Iknow of to prevent a soldier, equally with others of His Majesty'ssubjects, from investing his money in savings banks. If there be anyimpediment, it should be taken away; but I doubt the expediency of goingfurther. "

The idea, however, seems to have occurred to the Duke, that the proposalto facilitate the saving of money by private soldiers might be turned toaccount in the way of a reduction in the army expenditure, and hecharacteristically added: "Has a soldier more pay than he requires? Ifhe has, it should be lowered, not to those now in the service, but tothose enlisted hereafter. " No one, however, could allege that the pay ofthe private soldier was excessive, and it was not likely that anyproposal to lower it would be entertained. 

The subject of savings banks for the army was allowed to rest for atime, but by the assistance of Sir James McGregor and Lord Howick ascheme was at length approved and finally established in 1842. Theresult has proved satisfactory in an eminent degree, and speaks well forthe character of the British soldier. It appears from a paper presentedto the House of Commons some years ago, --giving the details of thesavings effected by the respective corps, --that the men of the RoyalArtillery had saved over twenty-three thousand pounds, or an average ofsixteen pounds to each depositor. These savings were made out of a dailypay of one and threepence and a penny for beer-money, or equal to aboutnine and sixpence a week, subject to sundry deductions for extraclothing. Again, the men of the Royal Engineers--mostly drawn from theskilled mechanical class--had saved nearly twelve thousand pounds, or anaverage of about twenty pounds for each depositor. The Twenty-sixthregiment of the line (Cameronians), whose pay was a shilling a day and apenny for beer, saved over four thousand pounds. Two hundred and fiftymen of the first battalion, or one-third of the corps, were depositorsin the savings bank, and their savings amounted to about seventeenpounds per man. 

But this is not all. Private soldiers, out of their small earnings, areaccustomed to remit considerable sums through the post office, to theirpoor relations at home. In one year, twenty-two thousand pounds werethus sent from Aldershot, --the average amount of each money order beingtwenty-one shillings and fourpence. And if men with seven shillings andseven-pence a week can do so much, what might not skilled workmen do, whose earnings amount to from two to three pounds a week?

Soldiers serving abroad during arduous campaigns have proved themselvesto be equally thoughtful and provident. During the war in the Crimea, the soldiers and seamen sent home through the money order officeseventy-one thousand pounds, and the army works corps thirty-fivethousand pounds. More than a year before the money order system wasintroduced at Scutari, Miss Nightingale took charge of the soldiers'savings. She found them most willing to abridge their own comforts orindulgences, for the sake of others dear to them, as well as for theirown future well-being; and she devoted an afternoon in every week toreceiving and forwarding their savings to England. She remitted manythousand pounds in this manner, and it was distributed by a friend inLondon, --much of it to the remotest corners of Scotland and Ireland. Andit afforded some evidence that the seed fell in good places (as well asof the punctuality of the post office), that of the whole number ofremittances, all but one were duly acknowledged. 

Again, there is not a regiment returning from India but brings home withit a store of savings. In the year 1860, after the Indian mutiny, morethan twenty thousand pounds were remitted on account of invalided mensent back to England; besides which there were eight regiments whichbrought home balances to their credits in the regimental banks amountingto £40. 499. [1] The highest was the Eighty-fourth, whose savings amountedto £9, 718. The Seventy-Eighth (Ross-shire Buffs), the heroes whofollowed Havelock in his march on Lucknow, saved £6, 480; and the gallantThirty-second, who held Lucknow under Inglis, saved £5, 263. TheEighty-sixth, the first battalion of the Tenth, and the Ninth Dragoons, all brought home an amount of savings indicative of providence andforethought, which reflected the highest honour upon them as men as wellas soldiers. [2]

[Footnote 1: The sum sent home by soldiers serving in India for thebenefit of friends and relatives are not included in these amounts, theremittances being made direct by the paymasters of regiments, and notthrough the savings banks. ]

[Footnote 2: The amount of the Fund for Military Savings Banks on the5th of January, 1876, was £338, 350. ]

And yet the private soldiers do not deposit all their savings in themilitary savings banks, --especially when they can obtain access to anordinary savings bank. We are informed that many of the household troopsstationed in London deposit their spare money in the savings banksrather than in the regimental banks; and when the question was on arecent occasion asked as to the cause, the answer given was, "I wouldnot have my sergeant know that I was saving money. " But in addition tothis, the private soldier would rather that his comrades did not knowthat he was saving money; for the thriftless soldier, like thethriftless workman, when he has spent everything of his own, is very aptto set up a kind of right to borrow from the fund of his more thriftycomrade. 

The same feeling of suspicion frequently prevents workmen depositingmoney in the ordinary savings bank. They do not like it to be known totheir employers that they are saving money, being under the impressionthat it might lead to attempts to lower their wages. A working man in atown in Yorkshire, who had determined to make a deposit in the savingsbank, of which his master was a director, went repeatedly to watch atthe door of the bank before he could ascertain that his master wasabsent; and he only paid in his money, after several weeks' waiting, when ne had assured himself of this fact. 

The miners at Bilston, at least such of them as put money in the savingsbank, were accustomed to deposit it in other names than their own. Norwere they without reason. For some of their employers were actuallyopposed to the institution of savings banks, --fearing lest the workmenmight apply their savings to their maintenance during a turn-out; notreflecting that they have the best guarantee of the steadiness of thisclass of men, in their deposits at the savings bank. Mr. Baker, Inspector of Factories, has said that "the supreme folly of a strike isshown by the fact that there is seldom or never a rich workman at thehead of it. "

A magistrate at Bilston, not connected with the employment of workmen, has mentioned the following case. "I prevailed, " he says, "upon aworkman to begin a deposit in the savings bank. He came mostunwillingly. His deposits were small, although I knew his gains to begreat. I encouraged him by expressing satisfaction at the course he wastaking. His deposits became greater; and at the end of five years hedrew out the fund he had accumulated, bought a piece of land, and hasbuilt a house upon it. I think if I had not spoken to him, the wholeamount would have been spent in feasting or clubs, or contributions tothe trades unions. That man's eyes are now open--his social position israised--he sees and feels as we do, and will influence others to followhis example. "

From what we have said, it will be obvious that there can be no doubt asto the ability of a large proportion of the better-paid classes ofworking men to lay by a store of savings. When they set their minds uponany object, they have no difficulty in finding the requisite money. Asingle town in Lancashire contributed thirty thousand pounds to supporttheir fellow-workmen when on strike in an adjoining town. At a time whenthere are no strikes, why should they not save as much money on theirown account, for their own permanent comfort? Many workmen already savewith this object; and what they do, all might do. We know of one largemechanical establishment, --situated in an agricultural district, wherethe temptations to useless expenditure are few, --in which nearly all themen are habitual economists, and have saved sums varying from twohundred to five hundred pounds each. 

Many factory operatives, with their families, might easily lay by fromfive to ten shillings a week, which in a few years would amount toconsiderable sums. At Darwen, only a short time ago, an operative drewhis savings out of the bank to purchase a row of cottages, now becomehis property. Many others, in the same place, and in the neighbouringtowns, are engaged in building cottages for themselves, some by means oftheir contributions to building societies, and others by means of theirsavings accumulated in the bank. 

A respectably dressed working man, when making a payment one day at theBradford savings bank, which brought his account up to nearly eightypounds, informed the manager how it was that he had been induced tobecome a depositor. He had been a drinker; but one day accidentallyfinding his wife's savings bank deposit book, from which he learnt thatshe had laid by about twenty pounds, he said to himself, "Well now, ifthis can be done while I am spending, what might we do if both weresaving?" The man gave up his drinking, and became one of the mostrespectable persons of his class. "I owe it all, " he said, "to my wifeand the savings bank. "

When well-paid workmen such as these are able to accumulate a sufficientstore of savings, they ought gradually to give up hard work, and removefrom the field of competition as old age comes upon them. They oughtalso to give place to younger men; and prevent themselves being beatendown into the lower-paid ranks of labour. After sixty a man's physicalpowers fail him; and by that time he ought to have made provision forhis independent maintenance. Nor are the instances by any meansuncommon, of workmen laying by money with this object, and therebyproving what the whole class might, to a greater or less extent, accomplish in the same direction. 

The extent to which Penny Banks have been used by the very poorestclasses, wherever started, affords a striking illustration how much maybe done by merely providing increased opportunities for the practice ofthrift. The first Penny Bank was started in Greenock, about thirty yearssince, as an auxiliary to the savings bank. The object of the projector(Mr. J. M. Scott) was to enable poor persons, whose savings amounted toless than a shilling (the savings bank minimum) to deposit them in asafe place. In one year about five thousand depositors placed £1, 580with the Greenock institution. The estimable Mr. Queckett, a curate inthe east end of London, next opened a Penny Bank, and the results werevery remarkable. In one year as many as 14, 513 deposits were made in thebank. The number of depositors was limited to 2, 000; and the demand foradmission was so great that there were usually many waiting untilvacancies occurred. 

"Some save for their rent, " said Mr. Queckett, "others for clothes andapprenticing their children; and various are the little objects to whichthe savings are to be applied. Every repayment passes through my ownhands, which gives an opportunity of hearing of sickness, or sorrow, orany other cause which compels the withdrawal of the little fund. It is, besides, a feeder to the larger savings banks, to which many are turnedover when the weekly payments tendered exceed the usual sum. Many ofthose who could at first scarcely advance beyond a penny a week, can nowdeposit a silver coin of some kind. "

Never was the moral influence of the parish clergyman more wiselyemployed than in this case. Not many of those whom Mr. Queckett thuslaboured to serve were amongst the church-going class; but by helpingthem to be frugal, and improving their physical condition, he wasenabled gradually to elevate their social tastes, and to awaken in thema religious life to which the greater number of them had before beenstrangers. 

A powerful influence was next given to the movement by Mr. Charles W. Sikes, cashier of the Huddersfield Banking Company, who advocated theirestablishment in connection with the extensive organization ofmechanics' institutes. It appeared to him that to train working peoplewhen young in habits of economy, was of more practical value tothemselves, and of greater importance to society, than to fill theirminds with the contents of many books. He pointed to the perverted useof money by the working class as one of the greatest practical evils ofthe time. "In many cases, " he said, "the higher the workmen's wages, thepoorer are their families; and these are they who really form thediscontented and the dangerous classes. How _can_ such persons take anyinterest in pure and elevating knowledge?"

To show the thriftlessness of the people, Mr. Sikes mentioned thefollowing instance. "An eminent employer in the West Riding, " he said, "whose mills for a quarter of a century have scarcely run short time fora single week, has within a few days examined the rate of wages now paidto his men, and compared it with that of a few years ago. He had thepleasure of finding that improvements in machinery had led toimprovement in wages. His spinners and weavers are making abouttwenty-seven shillings a week. In many instances some of their childrenwork at the same mill, and in a few instances their wives, and often thefamily income reaches from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds perannum. Visiting the homes of some of these men, he has seen withfeelings of disappointment the air of utter discomfort and squalor withwhich many are pervaded. Increase of income has led only to increase ofimprovidence. The savings bank and the building society are equallyneglected, although at the same mill there are some with no higherwages, whose homes have every comfort, and who have quite a littlecompetency laid by. In Bradford, I believe, a munificent employer on oneoccasion opened seven hundred accounts with the savings bank for hisoperatives, paying in a small deposit for each. The result was notencouraging. Rapidly was a small portion of the sums drawn out, and veryfew remained as the nucleus of further deposits. "[1]

[Footnote 1: From Mr. Sikes's excellent little handbook entitled "GoodTimes, or the Savings Bank and the Fireside. "]

Mr. Sikes suggested that each mechanics' institute should appoint apreliminary savings bank committee, to attend once a week for thepurpose of receiving deposits from the members and others. 

"If a committee at each institution, " he said, "were to adopt thiscourse, taking an interest in their humble circumstances, and in asympathizing and kindly spirit, to suggest, invite, nay win them over, not only by reading the lesson, but forming the habit of true economyand self-reliance (the noblest lessons for which classes could beformed), how cheering would be the results! Once established in betterhabits, their feet firmly set in the path of self-reliance, howgenerally would young men grow up with the practical conviction that totheir own advancing intelligence and virtues must they mainly look towork out their own social welfare!"

This admirable advice was not lost. One institution after anotherembraced the plan, and preliminary savings banks were, shortlyestablished in connection with the principal mechanics' institutesthroughout Yorkshire. Those established at Huddersfield, Halifax, Bradford, Leeds, and York, were exceedingly successful. The Penny Banksestablished at Halifax consisted of a central bank and seven subordinatebranches. The number of members, and the average amount of the sumsdeposited with them, continued to increase from year to year. FourteenPenny Banks were established at Bradford; and after the depositors hadformed the habit of saving in the smaller banks, they transferred themin bulk to the ordinary Savings Bank. 

Thirty-six Penny Banks were established in and around Glasgow. Thecommittee, in their Report, stated they were calculated "to check thatreckless expenditure of little sums which so often leads to a confirmedhabit of wastefulness and improvidence;" and they urged the support ofthe Penny Banks as the best means of extending the usefulness of thesavings banks. The Penny Bank established at the small country town ofFarnham is estimated to have contributed within a few years a hundredand fifty regular depositors to the savings bank of the same place. Thefact that as large a proportion as two-thirds of the whole amountdeposited is drawn out within the year, shows that Penny Banks areprincipally used as places of safe deposit for very small sums of money, until they are wanted for some special object, such as rent, clothes, furniture, the doctor's bill, and such-like purposes. 

Thus the Penny Bank is emphatically the poor man's purse. The great massof the deposits are paid in sums not exceeding sixpence, and the averageof the whole does not exceed a shilling. The depositors consist of thevery humblest members of the working class, and by far the greatestnumber of them have never before been accustomed to lay by any portionof their earnings. The Rev. Mr. Clarke, of Derby, who took an activeinterest in the extension of these useful institutions, has stated thatone-tenth of the whole amount received by the Derby Penny Bank wasdeposited in copper money, and a large portion of the remainder inthreepenny and fourpenny pieces. 

It is clear, therefore, that the Penny Bank reaches a class of personsof very small means, whose ability to save is much less than that of thehighly-paid workman, and who, if the money were left in their pockets, would in most cases spend it in the nearest public-house. Hence, when aPenny Bank was established at Putney, and the deposits were added up atthe end of the first year, a brewer, who was on the committee, made theremark, "Well, that represents thirty thousand pints of beer _notdrunk_. "

At one of the Penny Banks in Yorkshire, an old man in receipt of parishoutdoor relief was found using the Penny Bank as a place of deposit forhis pennies until he had accumulated enough to buy a coat. Others save, to buy an eight-day clock, or a musical instrument, or for a railwaytrip. 

But the principal supporters of the Penny Banks are boys, and this istheir most hopeful feature; for it is out of boys that men are made. AtHuddersfield many of the lads go in bands from the mills to the PennyBanks; emulation as well as example urging them on. They save forvarious purposes--one to buy a chest of tools, another a watch, a thirda grammar or a dictionary. 

One evening a boy presented himself to draw £l 10. According to therules of the Penny Bank a week's notice must be given before any sumexceeding 20s. Can be withdrawn, and the cashier demurred to making thepayment. "Well, " said the boy, "the reason's this--mother can't pay herrent; I'm goin' to pay it, for, as long as I have owt, she shall hev'it. " In another case, a youth drew £20 to buy off his brother who hadenlisted. "Mother frets so, " said the lad, "that, she'll break her heartif he isn't bought off, and I cannot bear that. "

Thus these institutions give help and strength in many ways, and, besides enabling young people to keep out of debt and honestly to paytheir way, furnish them with the means of performing kindly and generousacts in times of family trial and emergency. It is an admirable featureof the Ragged Schools that almost every one of them has a Penny Bankconnected with it for the purpose of training the scholars in goodhabits, which they most need; and it is a remarkable fact that in oneyear not less than £8, 880 were deposited, in 25, 637 sums, by thescholars connected with the Ragged School Union. And when, this can bedone by the poor boys of the ragged schools, what might not beaccomplished by the highly-paid operatives and mechanics of England?

But another capital feature in the working of Penny Banks, as regardsthe cultivation of prudent habits among the people, is the circumstancethat the example of boys and girls depositing their spare weeklypennies, has often the effect of drawing their parents after them. A boygoes on for weeks paying his pence, and taking home his pass-book. Thebook shows that he has a "leger folio" at the bank expressly devoted tohim--that his pennies are all duly entered, together with the respectivedates of their deposits--that these savings are not lying idle, but bearinterest at 2-1/2 per cent. Per annum--and that he can have themrestored to him at any time, --if under 20s. , without notice; and itabove 20s. , then after a week's notice has been given. 

The book is a little history in itself, and cannot fail to beinteresting to the boy's brothers and sisters, as well as to hisparents. They call him "good lad, " and they see he is a well-conductedlad. The father, if he be a sensible man, naturally bethinks him that, if his boy can do so creditable a thing, worthy of praise, so might hehimself. Accordingly, on the next Saturday night, when the boy goes todeposit his threepence at the Penny Bank, the father often sends hisshilling. 

Thus a good beginning is often made, and a habit initiated, which, ifpersevered in, very shortly exercises a most salutary influence on theentire domestic condition of the family. The observant mother is quickto observe the effects of this new practice upon the happiness of thehome, and in course of time, as the younger children grow up and earnmoney, she encourages them to follow the elder boy's example. Sheherself takes them by the hand, leads them to the Penny Bank, andaccustoms them to invest their savings there. Women have even moreinfluence in such matters than men, and where they do exercise it, thebeneficial effects are much more lasting. 

One evening a strong, muscular mechanic appeared at the Bradford savingsbank in his working dress, bringing with him three children, one of themin his arms. He placed on the counter their deposit books, which hiswife had previously been accustomed to present, together with tenshillings, to be equally apportioned amongst the three. Pressing to hisbosom the child in his arms, the man said, "Poor things! they have losttheir mother since they were here last; but I must do the best I can forthem. " And he continued the good lesson to his children which his wifehad begun, bringing them with him each time to see their little depositsmade. 

There is an old English proverb which says, "He that would thrive mustfirst ask his wife;" but the wife must not only let her husband thrive, but help him, otherwise she is not the "help meet" which is as needfulfor the domestic comfort and satisfaction of the working man, as ofevery other man who undertakes the responsibility of a family. Womenform the moral atmosphere in which we grow when children, and they havea great deal to do with the life we lead when we become men. It is truethat the men may hold the reins; but it is generally the women who tellthem which way to drive. What Rousseau said is very near the truth--"Menwill always be what women make them. "

Not long ago, Mr. Sikes encountered, in a second-class carriage, awell-dressed workman travelling from Sheffield to Glasgow, duringholiday times, to see his mother. "I am glad, " said Mr. Sikes, "to finda workman travelling so great a distance, for a purpose like that. ""Yes, " said the man, "and I am glad to say that I can afford to do it. ""And do many of the workmen employed in your workshop save money?" askedMr. Sikes. "No, " said the other, "not more than about two in thehundred. The spare earnings of the others go, not to the savings banks, but to the drink-shops. " "And when did you begin to save?" "When I wasno bigger than _that_, " indicating the height of a little boy: "thefirst money I saved was in a Penny Bank, and I have gone on saving eversince. "

Such being the influence of early practice and example, we are glad tofind that Economy is now being taught at public schools. The Rev. Mr. Crallan, of the Sussex County Asylum, has long taught lessons of thriftto poor boys and girls. He urges the establishment of Penny Banks inconnection with Savings Banks, in all elementary schools. He wiselycontends that simple lessons on money, its nature, its value, and itsuses, together with the various duties of giving, spending, and saving, would have a vast influence on the rising generation. 

The practice of teaching children provident habits has been adopted forabout eight years in the National Schools of Belgium. The School Boardof Ghent is convinced of the favourable influence that saving has uponthe moral and material well-being of the working classes, and believesthat the best means of causing the spirit of economy to penetrate theirhabits is to teach it to the children under tuition, and to make thempractise it. 

It is always very difficult to teach anything new to adults, --andespecially lessons of thrift to men who are thriftless. Their method ofliving is fixed. Traditional and inveterate habits of expenditure existamong them. With men, it is the drinking-shop; with women, it is dress. They spend what they earn, and think nothing of to-morrow. When reducedto a state of distress, they feel no shame in begging; for the feelingof human dignity has not yet been sufficiently developed in them. 

With children it is very different. They have no inveterate habits toget rid of. They will, for the most part, do as they are taught. Andthey can be taught economy, just as they can be taught arithmetic. Theycan, at all events, be inspired by a clever teacher with habits ofeconomy and thrift. Every child has a few pence at times. The master mayinduce them to save these for some worthy purpose. At Ghent, a savingsbank has been introduced in every school, and the children deposit theirpennies there. It is introduced into the paying schools as well as thefree schools; for habits of thrift are as useful to men and women of thericher as of the poorer classes. The results of the lessons on Economyhave been highly satisfactory. [1] The children belonging to the schoolsof Ghent have accumulated eighteen thousand pounds, which is depositedin the State Savings Bank at three per cent. Interest. This system isspreading into Holland, France, and Italy. It has also, to a certainextent, been adopted in this country. Thus Glasgow, Liverpool, Birmingham, Great Ilford, and the London Orphan Asylum, all showspecimens of School Banks; and we trust that, before long, they will beestablished in every school throughout the kingdom. 

[Footnote 1: A pamphlet published at Ghent says of the paying schools:"The spirit of economy is introduced there under the form of charity. The young girls buy with their pocket money, firstly materials, saycotton or linen, of which they afterwards make articles of dress duringthe hours set aside for manual work: afterwards the shirts, stockings, dresses, handkerchiefs, or aprons, are distributed to the poorerchildren of the free schools. The distribution Becomes the object of alittle holiday: we know of nothing that can be more touching. The poorchildren are assembled in the Collier school; our young ladies go werealso; one of them says a few words feelingly to her sisters in thepoorer classes; one of the girls of the free schools replies. Then thepretty and useful things which have been made during the last year aredistributed. It is the donors themselves who present the fruits of theirlabour to the poorest among the poor. The distribution is intermingledwith singing. Need we reiterate the blessings of this blessed economy?"]

It will be obvious, from what has been said, that the practice ofeconomy depends very much upon the facilities provided for the laying byof small sums of money. Let a convenient savings bank be provided, anddeposits gradually flow into it. Let a military savings bank beestablished, and private soldiers contrive to save something out oftheir small pay. Let penny banks be opened, and crowds of depositorsimmediately present themselves; even the boys of the ragged schoolsbeing able to put into them considerable sums of money. It is the samewith school banks, as we have seen from the example of theschool-children of Ghent. 

Now, fifteen years ago, this country was very insufficiently providedwith savings banks for the people. There were then many large towns andvillages altogether unprovided with them. Lancashire had only thirtysavings banks for upwards of two millions of people. The East Riding ofYorkshire had only four savings banks. There were fifteen counties inthe United Kingdom which had not a single savings bank. There were onlyabout six hundred savings banks for about thirty millions of people. These were open only for two or three hours in the week; some were openfor only four hours in the month. The workman who had money to save, hadto carry his spare shillings in his pocket for some time before he couldlay them by; and in the meantime he might be exposed to constanttemptations to spend them. To keep his shillings safe, he must haveacquired the _habit_ of saving, which it was the object of savings banksto train and establish. 

Dr. Guthrie, in his book on Ragged Schools, published in 1860, said:"How are our manufacturing and handicraft youth situated? Bypublic-houses and spirit-shops they are surrounded with innumerabletemptations; while to many of them savings banks are hardly known byname. Dissipation has her nets drawn across every street. In many of ourtowns, sobriety has to run the gauntlet of half-a-dozen spirit-shops inthe space of a bow-shot. These are near at hand--open by day, andblazing by night, both on Sabbath and Saturday. Drunkenness findsimmediate gratification; while economy has to travel a mile, it may be, for her savings bank; and that opens its door to thrift but once ortwice a week. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Seed-Time and Harvest of Ragged Schools, or a Third Plea, with new editions of the First and Second Plea, p. 99. ]

Many suggestions had been made by friends of the poorer classes, whetherit might not be possible to establish a more extended system of savingsbanks throughout the country. As long ago as 1807, Mr. Whitbreadintroduced a Bill into Parliament for the purpose of enabling smalldeposits to be made at an office to be established in London; the moneyto be remitted by the postmasters of the districts in which the depositswere made. The Bill further contemplated the establishment of a NationalAssurance Society, by means of which working people were to be enabledto effect assurances to an extent not exceeding two hundred pounds, andto secure annuities to an amount not exceeding twenty pounds. Mr. Whitbread's bill was rejected, and nothing came of his suggestions. 

The exertions of Sir Rowland Hill having given great vitality to thePost Office system, and extended its usefulness as a public institutionin all directions, it was next suggested that the money-order offices(which were established in 1838) might be applied for the purpose ofdepositing as well as for transmitting money. Professor Hancockpublished a pamphlet on the subject in 1852. In November, 1856, Mr. JohnBullar, the eminent counsel--whose attention had been directed to thesubject by the working of the Putney Penny Bank--suggested to the PostOffice authorities the employment of money-order offices as a means ofextending the savings-bank system; but his suggestion did not meet withapproval at the time, and nothing came of it. Similar suggestions weremade by other gentlemen--by Mr. Hume, by Mr. M'Corquodale, by CaptainStrong, by Mr. Ray Smee, and others. 

But it was not until Mr. Sikes, of Huddersfield, took up the question, that these various suggestions became embodied in facts. Suggestions arealways useful. They arouse thinking. The most valuable are never lost, but at length work themselves into facts. Most inventions are the resultof original suggestions. Some one attempts to apply the idea. Failuresoccur at first; but with greater knowledge, greater experience, andgreater determination, the suggestion at last succeeds. 

Post Office Savings Banks owe their success, in the first place, to thenumerous suggestions made by Mr. Whitbread and others; next to SirRowland Hill who by establishing the Branch Post Offices for thetransmission of money, made the suggestions practicable; next to Mr. Sikes, who took up the question in 1850, pushed it, persevered with it, and brought it under the notice of successive Chancellors of theExchequer; and lastly to Mr. Gladstone, who, having clearly foreseen theimmense benefits of Post Office Savings Banks, brought in a Bill andcarried it through Parliament in 1861. 

The money-order department of the Post Office had suggested to Mr. Sikes, as it had already done to other observers, that the organizationalready existed for making Post Office Savings Banks practicablethroughout the kingdom. Wherever the local inspector found that as manyas five money-orders were required in a week, the practice was to makethat branch of the Post Office a money-order office. It was estimatedthat such an office was established on an average within three miles ofevery working man's door in the kingdom. The offices were open daily. They received money from all comers, and gave vouchers for the amountstransmitted through them. They held the money until it was drawn, andpaid it out on a proper voucher being presented. The Post Office was, infact, a bank for the transmission of money, holding it for periods offrom twenty-four hours to weeks and months. By enabling it to receivemore money from more depositors, and by increasing the time of holdingit, allowing the usual interest, it became to all intents and purposes aNational bank of deposit. 

The results of the Post Office Savings Banks Act have proved entirelysatisfactory. The money-order offices have been largely extended. Theyare now about four thousand in number; consequently the facilities forsaving have been nearly doubled since the banks were established. Thenumber in the London district is now about four hundred and sixty, sothat from any point in the thickly populated parts of the metropolis, aSavings Bank may be found within a distance of a few hundred yards. Thenumber of the depositors at the end of 1873 amounted to more than amillion and a half; while the amount of deposits reached over twenty-onemillions sterling. [1] At the same time the amount deposited with theoriginal Savings Banks remained about the same. 

[Footnote 1: The amount reached £23, 157, 469 at the end of 1874. ]

Post Office Savings Banks possess several great advantages which oughtto be generally known. The banks are very widely diffused, and are openfrom nine in the morning until six in the evening, and on Saturdaysuntil nine at night. Persons may make a deposit of a shilling, or of anynumber of shillings, provided more than thirty pounds is not depositedin any one year. The Post Office officers furnish the book in which theseveral deposits are entered. The book also contains the regulations ofthe Post Office Savings Banks. Interest is allowed at the rate of twopounds ten shillings per cent, per annum. 

Another most important point is, the Security. Government is responsiblefor the full amount paid in; so that the money deposited with the PostOffice Savings Bank is as safe as if it were in the Bank of England. Themoney saved may also be transferred from place to place, withoutexpense, and may be easily paid to the depositor when required, nomatter where it was originally deposited. All that is done, is done inperfect secrecy between the depositor and the postmaster, who isforbidden to disclose the names of the depositors. 

We have frequently alluded to Mr. Charles William Sikes in connectionwith Penny Banks and Post Office Savings Banks. His name must alwayshold a distinguished place in connection with those valuableinstitutions. He is the son of a private banker in Huddersfield. When atschool he was presented, as a prize, with a copy of Dr. Franklin'sEssays and Letters. He perused the book with avidity. It implanted inhis mind the germs of many useful thoughts, and exercised a powerfulinfluence in giving a practical character to his life. Huddersfield is abusy manufacturing town. Although workmen were well paid for theirlabour, there were many ups and downs in their business. When tradebecame slack, and they had spent all that they had earned, numbers ofthem were accustomed to apply for charity in the streets or by thewayside. Young Sikes often wondered whether these people had ever heardof Dr. Franklin, and of his method of avoiding beggary or bad times bysaving their money when trade was brisk and they were well off. 

Early in 1833, Mr. Sikes entered the service of the Huddersfield BankingCompany. It was the second joint stock bank that had been established inEngland. The prudence and success with which the Scotch bankingcompanies had been conducted induced the directors to select a Scotchmanager. One of the first resolutions the directors adopted, was to givedeposit receipts for sums of ten pounds and upwards, for the purpose ofencouraging the working classes in habits of providence and thrift. Mr. Sikes, being somewhat of a favourite with the manager, often heard fromhis lips most interesting accounts of the provident habits of the Scotchpeasantry, and was informed by him of the fact that one of the banks atPerth paid not less than twenty thousand pounds a year as interest ondeposits varying from ten to two hundred pounds each. 

In 1837, Mr. Sikes became one of the cashiers of the company. Thisbrought him into direct contact and intercourse with the very classwhich, from the direction his mind was taking, he so much wished tounderstand, --namely, the thrifty portion of the industrious classes. Aconsiderable number of them had sums lying at interest. As years rolledon, Mr. Sikes often witnessed the depositor commencing with ten ortwenty pounds, then make permanent additions to his little store, untilat length the amount would reach one, two, or, in a few instances, eventhree hundred pounds. Mr. Sikes would often imagine the marvellousimprovement that would be effected on the condition of the workingclasses, if every one of them became influenced by the same frugalityand forethought, which induced these exceptional operatives to deposittheir savings at his bank. 

About that time, trade was in a wretched condition. The handloom weaverswere almost entirely without employment. Privation and sufferingprevailed on every side, and these were often borne with silent andnoble heroism. Various remedies were proposed for the existing evils. Socialism, chartism, and free trade, were the favourites. Theories ofthe wildest and most impracticable character abounded, and yet even inthose dark days there were instances of men who had to some degree madethe future predominate over the present, who could fall back upon theirreserve in the Joint Stock or Savings Bank to tide them over into bettertimes. Believing in the beneficent results of free trade, Mr. Sikes wasequally convinced that national prosperity, as well as nationaladversity, might be attended with great evils, unless the masses wereendowed with habits of providence and thrift, and prepared by previouseducation for the "good time coming" so eloquently predicted by theorators of the League. 

Many discussions with working men, in his homeward evening walks, convinced Mr. Sikes that there were social problems with whichlegislation would be almost powerless to grapple, and of these thethriftlessness of the masses of the people was one. An employer of fivehundred handloom weavers had told Mr. Sikes that in a previous period ofprosperity, when work was abundant and wages were very high, he couldnot, had he begged on bended knee, have induced his men to save a singlepenny, or to lay by anything for a rainy day. The fancy waistcoatingtrade had uniformly had its cycles of alternate briskness anddepression; but experience, however stern its teachings, could not teachunwilling learners. It was at this period that Mr. Sikes was reading thelate Archbishop Sumner's "Records of Creation, " and met with thefollowing passage: "The only true secret of assisting the poor, is tomake them agents in bettering their own condition. "

Simple as are the words, they shed light into Mr. Sikes's mind, andbecame the keynote and the test to which he brought the various viewsand theories which he had previously met with. Doles and charities, though founded frequently on the most benevolent motives, were too oftendeteriorating to their recipients. On the other hand, if self-relianceand self-help--the columns of true majesty in man--could only be madecharacteristics of the working classes generally, nothing could retardtheir onward and upward progress. Mr. Sikes observed that until theworking classes had more of the money power in their hands, they wouldstill be periodically in poverty and distress. He saw that if providenthabits could only he generally pursued by them, the face of societywould immediately be transformed; and he resolved, in so far as lay inhis power, to give every aid to this good work. 

In 1850, Savings Banks were only open a very few hours in each week. InHuddersfield, where more than £400, 000 a year was paid in wages, thesavings bank, after having been established over thirty years, had onlyaccumulated £74, 332. In 1850, Mr. Sikes addressed an anonymous letter tothe editors of the _Leeds Mercury_, to which, by their request, heafterwards attached his name. In that letter he recommended theformation of Penny Savings Banks in connection with Mechanics' andsimilar institutes. In simple words, but with many telling facts, heshowed how the young men and the young women of the working classes weregrowing up deprived of almost every opportunity of forming habits ofthrift, and of becoming depositors in savings hanks. 

The letter was received with general approbation. The committee of theYorkshire Union of Mechanics' Institutes gave their cordial sanction toit; and Penny Banks were established in connection with nearly everyMechanics' Institute in Yorkshire. Mr. Sikes personally conducted one atHuddersfield; and down to the present time, it has received and repaidabout thirty thousand pounds. In fact, the working people ofHuddersfield, doubtless owing in a great measure to the practicalexample of Mr. Sikes, --have become most provident and thrifty, --thedeposits in their savings bank having increased from seventy-fourthousand pounds in 1850, to three hundred and thirty thousand pounds in1874. 

In 1854, Mr. Sikes published his excellent pamphlet on "Good Times, orthe Savings Bank and the Fireside, " to which we have already referred. The success which it met with induced him to give his attention to thesubject of savings banks generally. He was surprised to find that theywere so utterly inadequate to meet the requirements of the country. Hesought an interview with Sir Cornewall Lewis, then Chancellor of theExchequer, and brought the subject under his consideration. TheChancellor requested Mr. Sikes to embody his views in a letter, and inthe course of a few months there appeared a pamphlet addressed to SirCornewall Lewis, entitled "Savings Banks Reforms. " Mr. Sikes insisted onthe Government guarantee being given for deposits made in Savings Banks;but this was refused. 

Mr. Sikes next proceeded to ventilate the question of Post OfficeSavings Banks. He was disappointed that no measure for the improvementof Savings Banks had been adopted by Parliament. The day appeared verydistant when his cherished wish would be realized, --that the SavingsBank should really become the Bank of the People. But the darkest hourprecedes the dawn. When he had almost given up the notion of improvingthe existing Savings Banks, the idea suddenly struck him that in themoney-order office there was the very organization which might be madethe basis of a popular Savings Bank. 

He communicated his plan in a letter to his friend Mr. Baines, thenmember for Leeds. The plan was submitted to Sir Rowland Hill, whoapproved of the suggestions, and considered the scheme "practicable sofar as the Post Office was concerned. " The plan was then brought underthe notice of Mr. Gladstone, who afterwards carried the Bill throughParliament for the establishment of Post Office Savings Banks throughoutthe country. 

To use the words of Mr. Sikes himself, --when predicting at the SocialScience Association the success of the Post Office SavingsBanks, --"Should the plan be carried out, it will soon be doing aglorious work. Wherever a Bank is opened and deposits received, self-reliance will to some extent be aroused, and, with many, a noblerlife will be begun. They will gradually discern how ruthless an enemy isimprovidence to working men; and how truly his friends are economy andforethought. Under their guidance, household purchases could be made onthe most favourable terms--_for cash;_ any wished-for house taken at thelowest rent _for punctual payment_; and the home enriched with comfortsuntil it is enjoyed and prized by all. From such firesides go forththose inheriting the right spirit, --loving industry, loving thrift, andloving home. Emulous of a good example, they in their day and generationwould nobly endeavour to lay by a portion of their income. Many a hardwinter and many a slack time would be comfortably got over by drawing onthe little fund, to be again replenished in better days. And if the planwere adopted, remembering that it would virtually bring the Savings Bankwithin less than an hour's walk of the fireside of every working man inthe United Kingdom, I trust that it is not taking too sanguine a view toanticipate that it would render aid in ultimately winning over the rankand file of the industrial classes of the kingdom to those habits offorethought and self-denial which bring enduring reward to theindividual, and materially add to the safety of the State. "

The working classes have not yet, however, taken full advantage of thefacilities for saving afforded them by the Post Office Savings Banks. Take Birmingham for instance, where the artizans are among the best-paidworkmen of the town. In the list of depositors in the Post OfficeSavings Banks, we find that the artizans rank after the domesticservants, after the married and unmarried women, and after the miners. They only constitute about one-tenth of the entire depositors, though itis possible that they may deposit their savings in some otherinvestments. 

Then take the returns for the entire United Kingdom. Out of every tenthousand depositors in the Post Office Savings Banks, we find that thedomestic servants are again the first; next, the women, married andsingle; next, persons of "no occupation" and "occupations not given;"next, the artizans, and after them, the labourers, miners, tradesmen, soldiers and sailors, clerks, milliners and dressmakers, professionalmen, and public officials, in the order stated. We must, however, regardthe institution as still too young to have fully taken root. We believethat the living generation must pass away before the full fruits of thePost Office Savings Banks can be gathered in. 

The inhabitants of Preston have exhibited a strong disposition to savetheir earnings during the last few years, --more especially since theconclusion of the last great strike. There is no town in England, excepting perhaps Huddersfield, where the people have proved themselvesso provident and so thrifty. Fifty years ago, only one person in thirtyof the population of Preston deposited money in the Savings Bank; twentyyears ago, the depositors increased to one in eleven; and last year theyhad increased to one in five. In 1834, the sum of a hundred andsixty-five thousand pounds had been accumulated in the Savings Bank by5, 942 depositors; and in 1874, four hundred and seventy-two thousandpounds had been accumulated by 14, 792 depositors, out of a totalpopulation of 85, 428. Is there any other town or city that can show amore satisfactory result of the teaching, the experience, and theprosperity of the last twenty years?

CHAPTER IX. 

LITTLE THINGS. 

"The sober comfort, all the peace which springs From the large aggregate of little things; On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend, The almost sacred joys of Home depend. "--_Hannah More_. 

"Know when to spend and when to spare, And when to buy, and thou shalt ne'er be bare. "

"He that despiseth little things, shall perish by little andlittle. "--_Ecclesiasticus_. 

Neglect of small things is the rock on which the great majority of thehuman race have split. Human life consists of a succession of smallevents, each of which is comparatively unimportant, and yet thehappiness and success of every man depends upon the manner in whichthese small events are dealt with. Character is built up on littlethings, --little things well and honourably transacted. The success of aman in business depends on his attention to little things. The comfortof a household is the result of small things well arranged and dulyprovided for. Good government can only be accomplished in the sameway, --by well-regulated provisions for the doing of little things. 

Accumulations of knowledge and experience of the most valuable kind arethe result of little bits of knowledge and experience carefullytreasured up. Those who learn nothing or accumulate nothing in life, areset down as failures, --because they have neglected little things. Theymay themselves consider that the world has gone against them; but infact they have been their own enemies. There has long been a popularbelief in "good luck;" but, like many other popular notions, it isgradually giving way. The conviction is extending that diligence is themother of good luck; in other words, that a man's success in life willbe proportionate to his efforts, to his industry, to his attention tosmall things. Your negligent, shiftless, loose fellows never meet withluck; because the results of industry are denied to those who will notuse the proper efforts to secure them. 

It is not luck, but labour, that makes men. Luck, says an Americanwriter, is ever waiting for something to turn up; Labour, with keen eyeand strong will, always turns up something. Luck lies in bed and wishesthe postman would bring him news of a legacy; Labour turns out at six, and with busy pen or ringing hammer lays the foundation of a competence. Luck whines; Labour whistles. Luck relies on chance; Labour oncharacter. Luck slips downwards to self-indulgence; Labour stridesupward, and aspires to independence. 

There are many little things in the household, attention to which isindispensable to health and happiness. Cleanliness consists in attentionto a number of apparent trifles--the scrubbing of a floor, the dustingof a chair, the cleansing of a teacup, --but the general result of thewhole is an atmosphere of moral and physical well-being, --a conditionfavourable to the highest growth of human character. The kind of airwhich circulates in a house may seem a small matter, --for we cannot seethe air, and few people know anything about it. Yet if we do not providea regular supply of pure air within our houses, we shall inevitablysuffer for our neglect. A few specks of dirt may seem neither here northere, and a closed door or window would appear to make littledifference; but it may make the difference of a life destroyed by fever;and therefore the little dirt and the little bad air are really veryserious matters. The whole of the household regulations are, taken bythemselves, trifles--but trifles tending to an important result. 

A pin is a very little thing in an article of dress, but the way inwhich it is put into the dress often reveals to you the character of thewearer. A shrewd fellow was once looking out for a wife, and was on avisit to a family of daughters with this object. The fair one, of whomhe was partially enamoured, one day entered the room in which he wasseated with her dress partially unpinned, and her hair untidy: he neverwent back. You may say, such a fellow was "not worth a pin;" but he wasreally a shrewd fellow, and afterwards made a good husband. He judged ofwomen as of men--by little things; and he was right. 

A druggist advertised for an assistant, and he had applications from ascore of young man. He invited them all to come to his shop at the sametime, and set them each to make up a pennyworth of salts into a packet. He selected the one that did this little thing in the neatest and mostexpert manner. He inferred their general practical ability from theirperformance of this smallest bit of business. 

Neglect of little things has ruined many fortunes and marred the best ofenterprises. The ship which bore home the merchant's treasure was lostbecause it was allowed to leave the port from which it sailed with avery little hole in the bottom. For want of a nail the shoe of theaide-de-camp's horse was lost; for want of the shoe, the horse was lost;for want of the horse, the aide-de-camp himself was lost, for the enemytook him and killed him; and for want of the aide-de camp'sintelligence, the army of his general was lost: and all because a littlenail had not been properly fixed in a horse's shoe!

"It will do!" is the common phrase of those who neglect little things. "It will do!" has blighted many a character, blasted many a fortune, sunk many a ship, burnt down many a house, and irretrievably ruinedthousands of hopeful projects of human good. It always means stoppingshort of the right thing. It is a makeshift. It is a failure and defeat. Not what "will do, " but what is the best possible thing to do, --is thepoint to be aimed at! Let a man once adopt the maxim of "It will do, "and he is given over to the enemy, --he is on the side of incompetencyand defeat, --and we give him up as a hopeless subject!

M. Say, the French political economist, has related the followingillustration of the neglect of little things. Once, at a farm in thecountry, there was a gate enclosing the cattle and poultry, which wasconstantly swinging open for want of a proper latch. The expenditure ofa penny or two, and a few minutes' time, would have made all right. Itwas on the swing every time a person went out, and not being in a stateto shut readily, many of the poultry were from time to time lost. Oneday a fine young porker made his escape, and the whole family, with thegardener, cook, and milkmaid, turned out in quest of the fugitive. Thegardener was the first to discover the pig, and in leaping a ditch tocut off his escape, got a sprain that kept him to his bed for afortnight. The cook, on her return to the farm-house, found the linenburnt that she had hung up before the fire to dry; and the milkmaid, having forgotten in her haste to tie up the cattle in the cow-house, oneof the loose cows had broken the leg of a colt that happened to be keptin the same shed. The linen burnt and the gardener's work lost wereworth full five pounds, and the colt worth nearly double that money: sothat here was a loss in a few minutes of a large sum, purely for want ofa little latch which might have been supplied for a few halfpence. Lifeis full of illustrations of a similar kind. When small things arehabitually neglected, ruin is not far off. It is the hand of thediligent that maketh rich; and the diligent man or woman is attentive tosmall things as well as great. The things may appear very little andinsignificant, yet attention to them is as necessary as to matters ofgreater moment. 

Take, for instance, the humblest of coins--a penny. What is the use ofthat little piece of copper--a solitary penny? What can it buy? Of whatuse is it? It is half the price of a glass of beer. It is the price of abox of matches. It is only fit for giving to a beggar. And yet how muchof human happiness depends upon the spending of the penny well. 

A man may work hard, and earn high wages; but if he allows the pennies, which are the result of hard work, to slip out of his fingers--somegoing to the beershop, some this way, and some that, --he will find thathis life of hard work is little raised above a life of animal drudgery. On the other hand, if he take care of the pennies--putting some weeklyinto a benefit society or an insurance fund, others into a savings bank, and confides the rest to his wife to be carefully laid out, with a viewto the comfortable maintenance and culture of his family, --he will soonfind that his attention to small matters will abundantly repay him, inincreasing means, in comfort at home, and in a mind comparatively freefrom fears as to the future. 

All savings are made up of little things. "Many a little makes amickle. " Many a penny makes a pound. A penny saved is the seed of poundssaved. And pounds saved mean comfort, plenty, wealth, and independence. But the penny must be earned honestly. It is said that a penny earnedhonestly is better than a shilling given. A Scotch proverb says, "Thegear that is gifted is never sae sweet as the gear that is won. " Whatthough the penny be black? "The smith and his penny are both black. " Butthe penny earned by the smith is an honest one. 

If a man does not know how to save his pennies or his pounds, his nosewill always be kept to the grindstone. Want may come upon him any day, "like an armed man. " Careful saving acts like magic: once begun, itgrows into habit. It gives a man a feeling of satisfaction, of strength, of security. The pennies he has put aside in his savings box, or in thesavings bank, give him an assurance of comfort in sickness, or of restin old age. The man who saves has something to weather-fend him againstwant; while the man who saves not has nothing between him and bitter, biting poverty. 

A man may be disposed to save money, and lay it by for sickness or forother purposes; but he cannot do this unless his wife lets him, or helpshim. A prudent, frugal, thrifty woman is a crown of glory to herhusband. She helps him in all his good resolutions; she may, by quietand gentle encouragement, bring out his better qualities; and by herexample she may implant in him noble principles, which are the seeds ofthe highest practical virtues. 

The Rev. Mr. Owen, formerly of Bilston, --a good friend and adviser ofworking people, --used to tell a story of a man who was not an economist, but was enabled to become so by the example of his wife. The man was acalico-printer at Manchester, and he was persuaded by his wife, on theirwedding-day, to allow her two half-pints of ale a day, as her share. Herather winced at the bargain, for, though a drinker himself, he wouldhave preferred a perfectly sober wife. They both worked hard; and he, poor man, was seldom out of the public-house as soon as the factory wasclosed. 

She had her daily pint, and he, perhaps, had his two or three quarts, and neither interfered with the other? except that, at odd times, shesucceeded, by dint of one little gentle artifice or another, to win himhome an hour or two earlier at night; and now and then to spend anentire evening in his own house. They had been married a year, and onthe morning of their wedding anniversary, the husband looked askance ather neat and comely person, with some shade of remorse, as he said, "Mary, we've had no holiday since we were wed; and, only that I have nota penny in the world, we'd take a jaunt down to the village, to see theemother. "

"Would'st like to go, John? "said she, softly, between a smile and atear, so glad to hear him speak so kindly, --so like old times. "Ifthee'd like to go, John, I'll stand treat. "

"Thou stand treat!" said he, with half a sneer: "Has't got a fortun', wench?"

"Nay, " said she, "but I've gotten the pint o' ale. "

"Gotten what?" said he. 

"The pint o' ale!" said she. 

John still didn't understand her, till the faithful creature reacheddown an old stocking from under a loose brick up the chimney, andcounted out her daily pint of ale in the shape of three hundred andsixty-five threepences, _i. E. , _ £4 11_s. _ 3_d. _, and put them into hishand, exclaiming, "Thou shalt have thee holiday, John!"

John was ashamed, astonished, conscience-stricken, charmed, and wouldn'ttouch it. "Hasn't thee had thy share? Then I'll ha' no more! "he said. He kept his word. They kept their wedding-day with mother, --and thewife's little capital was the nucleus of a series of frugal investments, that ultimately swelled out into a shop, a factory, warehouses, acountry seat, carriage, and, perhaps, a Liverpool Mayor. 

In the same way, a workman of even the humblest sort, whose prosperityand regularity of conduct show to his fellow-workmen what industry, temperance, manly tenderness, and superiority to low and sensualtemptation can effect, in endearing a home which is bright even amidstthe gloom of poverty--such a man does good as well as the most eloquentwriter that ever wrote. If there were a few patriarchs of the peoplesuch as this, their beneficial influence would soon be sensibly felt bysociety at large. A life well spent is worth any number of speeches. Forexample is a language far more eloquent than words: it is instruction inaction--wisdom at work. 

A man's daily life is the best test of his moral and social state. Taketwo men, for instance, both working at the same trade and earning thesame money; yet how different they may be as respects their actualcondition. The one looks a free man; the other a slave. The one lives ina snug cottage; the other in a mud hovel. The one has always a decentcoat to his back; the other is in rags. The children of the one areclean, well dressed, and at school; the children of the other are dirty, filthy, and often in the gutter. The one possesses the ordinary comfortsof life, as well as many of its pleasures and conveniences--perhaps awell-chosen library; the other has few of the comforts of life, certainly no pleasures, enjoyments, nor books. And yet these two menearn the same wages. What is the cause of the difference between them?

It is in this. The one man is intelligent and prudent; the other is thereverse. The one denies himself for the benefit of his wife, his family, and his home; the other denies himself nothing, but lives under thetyranny of evil habits. The one is a sober man, and takes pleasure inmaking his home attractive and his family comfortable; the other caresnothing for his home and family, but spends the greater part of hisearnings in the gin-shop or the public-house. The one man looks up; theother looks down. The standard of enjoyment of the one is high; and ofthe other low. The one man likes books, which instruct and elevate hismind; the other likes drink, which tends to lower and brutalize him. Theone saves his money; the other wastes it. 

"I say, mate, " said one workman to another, as they went home oneevening from their work, "will you tell me how it is that you contriveto get on? how it is that you manage to feed and clothe your family asyou do, and put money in the Penny Bank besides; whilst I, who have asgood wages as you, and fewer children, can barely make the ends meet?"

"Well, I will tell you; it only consists in this--in _taking care of thepennies!_"

"What! Is that all, Ransom?"

"Yes, and a good 'all' too. Not one in fifty knows the secret. Forinstance, Jack, _you_ don't. "

"How! I? Let's see how you make that out. "

"Now you have asked my secret, I'll tell you all about it. But you mustnot be offended if I speak plain. First, I pay nothing for my drink. "

"Nothing? Then you don't pay your shot, but sponge upon yourneighbours. "

"Never! I drink water, which costs nothing. Drunken days have all theirto-morrows, as the old proverb says. I spare myself sore heads and shakyhands, and save my pennies. Drinking water neither makes a man sick norin debt, nor his wife a widow. And that, let me tell you, makes aconsiderable difference in our out-go. It may amount to abouthalf-a-crown a week, or seven pounds a year. That seven pounds willclothe myself and children, while you are out at elbows and yourchildren go barefoot. "

"Come, come, that's going too far. I don't drink at that rate. I maytake an odd half-pint now and then; but half-a-crown a week! Pooh!pooh!"

"Well, then, how much did you spend on drink last Saturday night? Outwith it. "

"Let me see: I had a pint with Jones; I think I had another with Davis, who is just going to Australia; and then I went to the lodge. "

"Well, how many glasses had you there?"

"How can I tell? I forget. But it's all stuff and nonsense, Bill!"

"Oh, you can't tell: you don't know what you spent? I believe you. Butthat's the way your pennies go, my lad. "

"And that's all your secret?"

"Yes; take care of the penny--that's all. Because I save, I have, whenyou want. It's very simple, isn't it?"

"Simple, oh yes; but there's nothing in it. "

"Yes! there's this in it, --that it has made you ask me the question, howI manage to keep my family so comfortably, and put money in the PennyBank, while you, with the same wages, can barely make the ends meet. Money is independence, and money is made by putting pennies together. Besides, I work so hard for mine, --and so do you, --that I can't find itin my heart to waste a penny on drink, when I can put it beside a fewother hard-earned pennies in the bank. It's something for a sore foot ora rainy day. There's that in it, Jack; and there's comfort also in thethought that, whatever may happen to me, I needn't beg nor go to theworkhouse. The saving of the penny makes me feel a free man. The manalways in debt, or without a penny beforehand, is little better than aslave. "

"But if we had our rights, the poor would not be so hardly dealt with asthey now are. "

"Why, Jack, if you had your rights to-morrow, would they put your moneyback into your pocket after you had spent it?--would your rights giveyour children shoes and stockings when you had chosen to waste on beerwhat would have bought them? Would your rights make you or your wife, thriftier, or your hearthstone cleaner? Would rights wash yourchildren's faces, and mend the holes in your clothes? No, no, friend!Give us our rights by all means, but _rights are not habits_, and it'shabits we want--good habits. With these we can be free men andindependent men _now_, if we but determine to be so. Good night, Jack, and mind my secret, --it's nothing but _taking care of the pennies_, andthe pounds will take care of themselves. "

"Good-night!" And Jack turned off at the lane-end towards his humble anddirty cottage in Main's Court. I might introduce you to his home, --but"home" it could scarcely be called. It was full of squalor anduntidiness, confusion and dirty children, where a slattern-looking womanwas scolding. Ransom's cottage, On the contrary, _was_ a home. It wassnug, trig, and neat; the hearthstone was fresh sanded; the wife, thoughher hands were full of work, was clean and tidy; and her husband, hisday's work over, could sit down with his children about him, in peaceand comfort. 

The _chief secret_ was now revealed. Ransom's secret, about the penny, was a very good one, so far as it went. But he had not really told thewhole truth. He could not venture to tell his less fortunate comradethat the root of all domestic prosperity, the mainstay of all domesticcomfort, is _the wife_; and Ransom's wife was all that a working mancould desire. There can be no thrift, nor economy, nor comfort at home, unless the wife helps;--and a working man's wife, more than any otherman's; for she is wife, Housekeeper, nurse, and servant, all in one. Ifshe be thriftless, putting money into her hands is like pouring waterthrough a sieve. Let her be frugal, and she will make her home a placeof comfort, and she will also make her husband's life happy, --if she donot lay the foundation of his prosperity and fortune. 

One would scarcely expect that for a penny a day it would be possible toobtain anything valuable. And yet it may be easily shown how much apenny a day, carefully expended, might do towards securing a man'sindependence, and providing his wife and family against the futurepressure of poverty and want. 

Take up a prospectus and tables of a Provident Society, intended for theuse of those classes who have a penny a day to spend, --that is, nearlyall the working classes of the country. It is not necessary to specifyany particular society, because the best all proceed upon the samedata, --the results of extensive observations and experience of healthand sickness;--and their tables of rates, certified by public actuaries, are very nearly the same. Now, looking at the tables of these Life andSickness Assurance Societies, let us see what a penny a day can do. 

1. For _a penny a day_, a man or woman of twenty-six years of age maysecure the sum of ten shillings a week payable during the time ofsickness, for the whole of life. 

2. For _a penny a day_ (payments ceasing at sixty years of age), a manor woman of thirty-one years of age may secure the sum of £50 payable atdeath, whenever that event may happen, even though it should be duringthe week or the month after the assurance has been effected. 

3. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of fifteen may secure a sumof £100, the payment of the penny a day continuing during the whole oflife, but the £100 being payable whenever death may occur. 

4. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of twenty may secure anannuity of £26 per annum, or of 10_s_. Per week for the whole of life, after reaching the age of sixty-five. 

5. For _a penny a day_, --the payment commencing from the birth of anychild, --a parent may secure the sum of £20, payable on such childreaching the age of fourteen years. 

6. For _a penny a day_, continued until the child readies the age oftwenty-one years, the sum of £45 may be secured, to enable him or her tobegin business, or start housekeeping. 

7. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of twenty-four may securethe sum of £100, payable on reaching the age of sixty, with the right ofwithdrawing four-fifths of the amount paid in, at any time; the whole ofthe payments being paid back in event of death occurring before the ageof sixty. 

Such is the power of _a penny a day!_ Who would have thought it? Yet itis true, as any one can prove by looking at the tables of the bestassurance offices. Put the penny a day in the bank, and it accumulatesslowly. Even there, however, it is very useful. But with the assuranceoffice it immediately assumes a vast power. A penny a day paid in by theman of thirty-one, is worth £60 to his wife and family, in the event ofhis dying next month or next year! It is the combining of small savingsfor purposes of mutual assurance, by a large number of persons, thatgives to the penny its enormous power. 

The effecting of a life assurance by a working man, for the benefit ofhis wife and children, is an eminently unselfish act. It is a moral aswell as a religious transaction. It is "providing for those of his ownhousehold. " It is taking the right step towards securing theindependence of his family, after he, the bread-winner, has been calledaway. This right investment of _the pennies_ is the best proof ofpractical virtue, and of the honest forethought and integrity of a trueman. 

The late Joseph Baxendale was the constant friend of the working peoplewho co-operated with him in the labours of his life. He was a man ofstrong common sense, and might have been styled the Franklin ofBusiness. He was full of proverbial wisdom, and also full of practicalhelp. He was constantly urging his servants to lay by something for arainy day, or for their support in old age. He also used to pension offhis old servants after they had ceased to be able to work. 

He posted up Texts along his warehouses, so that those who ran mightread. "Never despair, " "Nothing without labour, " "He who spends all hegets, is on the way to beggary, " "Time lost cannot be regained, " "Letindustry, temperance, and economy be the habits of your lives. " Thesetexts were printed in large type, so that every passer-by might readthem; while many were able to lay them to heart, and to practise theadvices which they enjoined. 

On other occasions Mr. Baxendale would distribute amongst hisworkpeople, or desire to be set up in his warehouses and places ofbusiness, longer and more general maxims. He would desire these printeddocuments to be put up in the offices of the clerks, or in places wheremen are disposed to linger, or to take their meals, or to assemblepreparatory to work. They were always full of valuable advice. We copyone of them, on the Importance of Punctuality:--

"Method is the hinge of business; and there is no method withoutPunctuality. Punctuality is important, because it subserves the Peaceand Good Temper of a family. The want of it not only infringes onnecessary Duty, but sometimes excludes this duty. The calmness of mindwhich it produces is another advantage of Punctuality. A disorderly manis always in a hurry. He has no time to speak to you, because he isgoing elsewhere; and when he gets there, he is too late for hisbusiness, or he must hurry away to another before he can finish it. Punctuality gives weight to character. 'Such a man has made anappointment; then I know he will keep it. ' And this generatesPunctuality in you; for, like other virtues, it propagates itself. Servants and children must be punctual, when their Leader is so. Appointments, indeed, become debts. I owe you Punctuality, if I havemade an appointment with you, and have no right to throw away your time, if I do my own. "

Some may inquire, "Who was Joseph Baxendale?" He was, in fact, Pickfordand Co. , the name of a firm known all over England, as well asthroughout the Continent. Mr. Baxendale was the son of a physician atLancaster. He received a good education, went into the cotton trade, andcame up to London to represent the firm with which he was connected. Aperiod of commercial pressure having occurred, he desired to leave thecotton trade and to enter upon some other business. Mr. Pickford hadalready begun the business of a Carrier, but he was hampered by want ofmoney. Mr. Baxendale helped him with capital, and for a time remained asleeping partner; but finding that the business made no progress, principally for want of management, he eventually determined to take theactive part in working and managing the concern. 

He threw his whole energies into the firm of Pickford and Co. Hereorganized the agencies, and extended them throughout the kingdom. Heput flying vans upon the road, equal to our express trains; and slowvans, equal to our goods trains. He utilized the canals to a largeextent, putting on flying boats between all the larger towns. Indeed theroads of the country were then so bad, that in certain seasons it wasalmost impossible to convey merchandize from one part of the country toanother. 

The carrying on of such an important and extensive business requiredmuch capital, great energy, and first-rate business management. Thehorses necessary to carry on the traffic were increased from aboutfifty, which they were in the time of Pickford, to more than a thousand;for relays of horses were necessary at all the stopping-places on theline of traffic, between London and Manchester, between London andExeter, and between London and Edinburgh. A ship-building yard wasestablished, where all the boats, flying and slow, required to carry onthe business, were constructed at Mr. Baxendale's expense. 

The carrying business required a great deal of personal supervision. Only a man of determined spirit and indomitable energy could have doneit. He had a flying boat in which he rapidly passed along the canals, seeing that the men were at their posts, that the agents were at work, and the traffic duly provided for. He did this by night as well as byday. At other times, he would fly along the roads in his specialtravelling carriage, --always paying the highest prices to theinnkeepers, in order that he might secure the best horses, and avoiddelay and loss of time. He would overtake his vans, and see that his menwere sober, and that they were well forward at the stations along theroad; that their blunderbusses were loaded (for highway robbery was thenone of the risks of travelling by road), that the agents were doingtheir duty, and that everything was in proper order. 

Besides overtaking the vans, he would sometimes travel by a by-road--forhe knew nearly every road in the country--push on, and then double backupon his drivers, who never knew whether he was before or behind them;and thus general vigilance became the rule of all. By these and variousother means the business of the concern was admirably done, and thecarrying trade of the country was brought to as high a state ofperfection as was compatible with the then state of the roads andcanals. 

When all this had been accomplished, the disturbing influence ofrailways began. "I see mischief in these confounded iron roads, " saidthe Duke of Bridgewater. But the time for railways had arrived, and theycould not be postponed. The first railroads were used for the conveyanceof coals from the pits to the seaside, where they were shipped forLondon. Then it was proposed that they should be laid for the conveyanceof goods from town to town; and the largest traffic being in Lancashire, one of the first railways was constructed between Liverpool andManchester, from which towns they were afterwards constructed in alldirections throughout the country. 

Had Mr. Baxendale resisted the new means of conveyance, he would, beforelong, have been driven off the road. But he clearly foresaw the ultimatetriumph of the railway system; and he went with it, instead of againstit. He relieved the Liverpool and Manchester Company of a great deal oftrouble, by undertaking to manage their goods' traffic and by collectingand delivering it at both towns. Then, when the railways from Warringtonto Birmingham and from Birmingham to London were projected, he gaveevidence before the committees of Parliament, in proof of the estimatedtraffic. And when the lines were made, he transferred the goods from hiscarrying vans to the railway. He thus became a great railway carrier, collecting and delivering goods in all the cities and towns served bythe railways which had by that time become established. 

He also became a large shareholder in railways. His status in theSouth-Eastern line was so great, that he was invited to become chairmanof the company. He was instrumental, in conjunction with the late SirWilliam Cubitt, in pushing on the line to Dover. But the Dover HarbourBoard being found too stingy in giving accommodation to the traffic, andtoo grasping in their charges for harbour dues, Mr. Baxendale at onceproceeded, on his own responsibility, to purchase Folkestone Harbour asthe port of the South-Eastern Company. He next proceeded to get up theBoulogne and Amiens Railway, which was for the most part constructedwith English capital; and the direct line from London to Paris was thuscompleted. 

His arduous labours in connection with his own business, as well as withrailway extension, having thrown him into ill-health, he went abroad forrepose. While absent, a faction was got up in Liverpool for the purposeof appointing another chairman in his stead; and though he was unseatedby a trick, he himself accepted his dismissal with pleasure. His sonswere now able to help him in the conduct of his business, though hecontinued to the close of his life to take an interest in everythingthat was going on. He was never weary of well-doing; he never rested ingiving his good advice, the results of his large experience, to theassistants, clerks, and working men employed in his various offices. Weconclude our brief notice of his life by giving another of his"Run-and-Read Sermons, " which he distributed plentifully among his_employés_, and had affixed in various portions of his warehouses. Itwas entitled "Good Maxims and Advice. "

"An old servant of the concern observed, a short time ago, that he beganlife in the employ of Pickford, upon low wages, and that by frugalityand industry he had gained a competency. His maxim was, never to spendmore than ninepence out of every shilling. Although this may appear atrifle, recollect that it is five shillings in twenty, ten pounds inforty. 

"Suppose a young man to pursue this system: Let him obtain the firsttwenty pounds, add each year ten pounds, he will at the end of six yearsbe possessed of upwards of one hundred pounds. If in early life theopportunity is suffered to pass, it rarely happens that one can savemoney when more advanced in years. 

"The concern in which we are engaged has been defrauded by those whohave for thirty years received salaries, the savings from which, hadthey followed the plan that is recommended, would have placed them insituations of comparative affluence; and we should now have seen themrespectable members of society. 

"Upon industry and frugality our well-doing depends. It is not greattalents, but steady application, that is required. There are none of usthat may not obtain stations of respectability. 'God helps them thathelp themselves. ' 'He that follows pleasure instead of business willshortly have no business to follow. '

"I frequently complain of what may be called trifles, but from thesearising frequently, we are at length lost. Let each attend to hisrespective duties; keep the appointed hours; and never defer tillto-morrow what may be done to-day. 

"If business is more pressing than usual, give additional time, thatyour own accounts may not fall into confusion, and that you may not bethe means of causing delay and trouble to others. It often happens thatthe negligence of individuals throws additional labour upon those whoare anxious for regularity. 

"Hiding or screening the faults or errors of others, is a system thathas prevailed and caused much loss and injury, --frequently to theoffending party, always to the employer. 

"Late occurrences lead me to draw your attention to this subject: it isimportant in every sense, both as regards your public and privatestations. There is nothing more worthy of a man than truth: nothingmakes him feel himself so despicable as a lie. Recollect that men actlies without speaking them, and that all false appearances are lies. "He, therefore, who, seeing his employer injured, neglects to make itknown, is equally guilty--with this addition, that he is practising alie. Want of punctuality is a lie. 

"Speak and act openly on all occasions. Errors will be fewer, and labourwill be decreased. 

"It seldom happens that we can do any important services, but smallservices are always in use. Take, therefore, every opportunity ofassisting each other, --you are then most effectually serving youremployers, as well as keeping up a spirit of cordiality and goodwillamongst yourselves. 

"A good Christian must be a good servant. Whatever your lot in life maybe above all things remember that 'The fear of God is the beginning ofwisdom. '"

CHAPTER X. 

MASTERS AND MEN. 

"The sweat of industry would dry, and die, But for the end it workrt to. " _Shakspeare_. 

"Man is a shop of rules, a well-trussed pack, Whose every parcel underwrites a law, "--_George Herbert_. 

"Care preserves what Industry gains. He who attends to his businessdiligently but _not_ carefully, throws away with one hand what hegathers with the other. "--_Colton_. 

"The acquisition of property, the accumulation of capital, is already inthe power of the better-paid working class; and legislation has but fewfurther facilities to give, or obstacles to remove. Their savings arenow so large that only soberer habits and rounder sense are needed tomake them independent capitalists in less than half a lifetime. "--_W. R. Greg_. 

Employers can do a great deal towards promoting habits of thrift, prudence, and sobriety amongst their workpeople. Though the working mandoes not like to be patronized, he has no objections to be helped. Wehave already seen that individuals can do much; they can cultivatehabits of economy, and lay by a certain portion of their earnings forhelp in time of need. But they want encouragement and assistance. Theywant sympathy; they want help. 

If masters fully understood the immense amount of influence which theypossess, they would extend their sympathy and confidence to theirworkmen, --which Would cost them so very little, and profit them so verymuch. We know of no instance where an employer has displayed a concernfor the social well-being and improvement of his workmen, in which hehas not been repaid by their increased respect and zeal on his behalf. He may, for instance, arrange that wages shall not be paid so as todrive them into the market late on Saturday nights, when they are oftenunder the necessity of making their weekly purchases at a greatdisadvantage. Of course, workmen who possess a little store of savings, might make their purchases at greater advantage at any other time. Theemployer might also avoid paying wages in public-houses, and thus keephis workmen out of the way of incurring an expenditure upon drink, thatmight prove so hurtful. 

But masters can do more than this. They can actively aid their workmenin the formation of prudent habits, by establishing savings banks formen and women, and penny banks for boys and girls; by encouraging theformation of provident clubs and building societies, of provision andclothing clubs, and in many other ways. They might also distribute amongthem, without any officious interference, good counsel as to the mannerin which they might make the best use of their wages. Many largeemployers have already accomplished much practical good, by encouragingthe formation of provident institutions, --in which they have neverfailed to secure the respect, and generally the co-operation, of theirworkmen. 

At the same time there is much want of sympathy between masters and men. In fact, want of sympathy pervades all classes--the poorer, the working, the middle, and the upper classes. There are many social gaps betweenthem, which cannot yet be crossed, which cannot yet be united. "If Iwere to be asked, " said Judge Talfourd, on whom Death was at the momentlaying his hand, "what is the great want of English society--to mingleclass with class--I would say, in one word, the want is _the want ofsympathy_. " A great truth, but not yet appreciated. It is the old truth, on which Christianity is based, of "Love one another"--simple saying, but containing within it a gospel sufficient to renovate the world. Butwhere men are so split and divided into classes, and are so far removedthat they can scarcely be said to know one another, they cannot have adue social regard and consideration, much less a genuine sympathy andaffection, for each other?

Charity cannot remedy the evil. Giving money, blankets, coals, andsuch-like, to the poor--where the spirit of sympathy is wanting, --doesnot amount to much. The charity of most of the Lord and Lady Bountifulsbegins with money, and ends there. The fellow-feeling is absent. Thepoor are not dealt with as if they belonged to the same common family ofman, or as if the same human heart beat in their breasts. 

Masters and servants live in the same unsympathetic state. "Each forhimself" is their motto. "I don't care who sinks, so that I swim. " A manat an inn was roused from his slumber; "There is a fire at the bottom ofthe street, " said the waiter. "Don't disturb _me_" said the traveller, "until the next house is burning. " An employer said to his hands, "Youtry to get all you can out of me; and I try to get all I can out ofyou. " But this will never do. The man who has any sympathy in him cannotallow such considerations to overrule his better nature. He must see thebrighter side of humanity ever turned towards him. "Always to think theworst, " said Lord Bolingbroke, "I have ever found the mark of a meanspirit and a base soul. "

On the other hand, the operative class consider their interests to bequite distinct from those of the master class. They want to get as muchfor their labour as possible. They want labour to be dear that they maysecure high wages. Thus, there being no mutual sympathy nor friendlyfeeling between the two classes, --but only moneyconsiderations, --collisions are frequent, and strikes occur. Bothclasses--backed by their fellows determined to "fight it out, " and hencewe have such destructive strikes as those of Preston, Newcastle, London, and South Wales. 

The great end of both is gain, worldly gain, which sometimes involves aterrible final loss. A general suspicion of each other spreads, andsociety becomes cankered to the core. The remedy is only to be found inthe cherishment of a larger Christian sympathy and more genuinebenevolence. Thus only can the breath of society be sweetened andpurified. Money gifts avail nothing, as between rich and poor. Unlessthere is a soul of goodness, and a real human fellowship between them, the mischief and the curse which the excellent Judge Talfourd lamentedwith his dying breath will never be overcome. 

Some allege that this want of sympathy arises, for the most part, fromthe evils of Competition. It is "heartless, " "selfish, " "mischievous, ""ruinous, " and so on. It is said to produce misery and poverty to themillion. It is charged with lowering prices, or almost in the samebreath with raising them. Competition has a broad back, and can bear anyamount of burdens. 

And yet there is something to be said for competition, as well asagainst it. It is a struggle, --that must be admitted. All life is astruggle. Amongst workmen, competition is a struggle to advance towardshigher wages. Amongst masters, to make the highest profits. Amongstwriters, preachers, and politicians, it is a straggle to succeed, --togain glory, reputation, or income. Like everything human, it has amixture of evil in it. If one man prospers more than others, or if someclasses of men prosper more than others, they leave other classes of menbehind them. Not that they leave those others worse, but that theythemselves advance. 

Put a stop to competition, and you merely check the progress ofindividuals and of classes. You preserve a dead uniform level. Youstereotype society, and its several orders and conditions. The motivefor emulation is taken away, and Caste, with all its mischiefs, isperpetuated. Stop competition, and you stop the struggle ofindividualism. You also stop the advancement of individualism, andthrough that of society at large. 

Under competition, the lazy man is put under the necessity of exertinghimself; and if he will not exert himself, he must fall behind. If he donot work, neither shall he eat. My lazy friend, you must not look to meto do my share of the world's work, and yours too! You must do your ownfair share of work, save your own money, and not look to me and toothers to keep you out of the poor-house. There is enough for all; butdo your own share of work you must. 

Success grows out of struggles to overcome difficulties. If there wereno difficulties, there would be no success. If there were nothing tostruggle or compete for, there would be nothing achieved. It is well, therefore, that men should be under the necessity of exertingthemselves. In this necessity for exertion, we find the chief source ofhuman advancement--the advancement of individuals as of nations. It hasled to most of the splendid mechanical inventions and improvements ofthe age. It has stimulated the shipbuilder, the merchant, themanufacturer, the machinist, the tradesman, the skilled workman. In alldepartments of productive industry, it has been the moving power. Is hasdeveloped the resources of this and of other countries, --the resourcesof the soil, and the character and qualities of the men who dwell uponit. It seems to be absolutely necessary for the purpose of stimulatingthe growth and culture of every individual. It is deeply rooted in man, leading him ever to seek after, and endeavour to realize, somethingbetter and higher than he has yet attained. 

Of course, man is much more than a competing being. That is only one ofhis characteristics, and not the highest or noblest. He hassensibilities, sympathies, and aspirations, which should induce him tounite and cooperate with others in works for the common good. Withunfettered individualism, there may, and there ought to be, beneficentcooperation for the general happiness. Men may unite to labour, toproduce, and to share with each other the fruits of their corporateindustry. But under any circumstances, there will be the instinct ofcompetition, the opportunities for competition, and, though mixed withnecessary evil, there will be the ultimate advantages of competition. 

One of the results of industry and thrift is the accumulation ofCapital. Capital represents the self-denial, the providence, and theenterprise of the past. The most successful accumulators of capital havein all times risen from the ranks of labour itself; they are working menwho have shot ahead of their fellows, and who now give employmentinstead of receiving it. These persons, --who are not the less workingmen because they have ceased to be manual labourers, --by creating andextending the sphere of productive industry, must be regarded as amongstthe most effective benefactors of the people, as they unquestionably areamong the principal sources of the power and wealth of any nation. Without the capital accumulated by their thrift during many generations, the lot of the artizan would be most precarious. 

There is not a mechanic but has the use of the money of the master whoemploys him. When the unskilled labourer lays down his spade, he leavesidle a capital worth eighteen-pence; but when a skilled artizan ormechanic leaves his mill or his workshop, he leaves idle a capital offrom a hundred to two hundred pounds per man. Nor does the skilledworkman run any risk whatever as regards the sums invested, though hevirtually shares the profits in the shape of the wages paid for hislabour. The profit which remains is the master's return for hismanagement and his risks. It is well known, however, that the risks arenot always covered, as the _Gazette_ in bad times abundantlydemonstrates. 

The workman in good employment is not liable to losses by bad debts; hehas no obsolete machinery from time to time left useless on his hands;and he has no anxiety about finding a market for his goods, nor fearsrespecting fluctuations in the price of the raw material. These areimportant advantages in his favour, which he does not usually take intoaccount. It is true he suffers if trade is bad, but he earns high wagesif it be good: he can then save money if he chooses to do so. He may besaid to participate in the adversity or prosperity of his firm, butwithout incurring any of the liabilities of partnership. 

Mr. Carlyle has given a curious account of the great Englishmanufacturer. "Plugson, of St. Dolly Undershot, buccaneer-like, says tohis men, 'Noble spinners, this is the hundred thousand we have gained, wherein I mean to dwell and plant my vineyards. The hundred thousand ismine, the three-and-sixpence daily was yours. Adieu, noble spinners!drink my health with this groat each, which I give you over and above!'"

This account of the manufacturing buccaneer is a picture drawn by a manof genius from his imagination. There are probably many readers whobelieve the picture to be drawn from fact. There may, of course, bemasters who are buccaneers; but there are also masters who are notbuccaneers. There are dishonest manufacturers, as there are dishonestliterary men, dishonest publicans, dishonest tradesmen. But we mustbelieve that in all occupations honesty is the rule, and dishonesty theexception. At all events, it is better that we should know what themanufacturers really are, --from fact rather than from fiction. 

Let us first take a large manufacturing firm, or rather series of firms, well known in South Lancashire. We mean the cotton-spinning mills of theMessrs. Ashworth at Egerton and New Eagley. They have been in existencefor more than seventy years. They have been repeatedly enlarged, andincreasing numbers of workpeople have been employed at the uniform wagespaid throughout the district. Workmen earn from seventeen shillings totwo pounds a week. Women-weavers can earn as much as twenty-oneshillings a week. Where the parents have children, the united earningsof families amount to as much as from £150 to £200 a year. 

Then, as to what the Ashworths have done for the benefit of theirworkpeople. Schooling, by means of mutual instruction classes, was inoperation from the first; but about the year 1825, when the works weregreatly enlarged, and the population was considerably increased, a dayschool was opened for children, which was used as an evening school foryoung men, as well as for a Sunday-school. The continued extension ofthe works led to an enlargement of the school accommodation; and whilethis was being provided, arrangements were made for a news-room, library, and for the performance of divine worship on Sundays. Acricket-ground was also provided for the use of young people. 

Misgivings were not unfrequently expressed that the zeal and expenditureincurred by the Messrs. Ashworth might one day be turned against them, to their annoyance and pecuniary loss. The prediction was realized inonly a single instance. A young man of considerable talent, who when achild had been removed to the factory from a neighbouring workhouse, made very rapid progress at school, especially in arithmetic; and when astrike of the workpeople occurred in 1830, one of the great strikeyears, he became very officious as a leader. The strike was defeated bythe employment of new hands, and it was attributed to the influence ofthis young man that the employed were brutally assailed by an infuriatedmob, and that the windows of the schoolroom were smashed, and otherworks of destruction committed. 

The employers, nevertheless, pursued their original design. Theyrepaired the school-house, and endeavoured to increase the efficacy ofthe teaching. They believed that nothing was better calculated to removeignorant infatuation than increased schooling. In a great manyinstances, the heads of the families had previously been engaged ashand-loom weavers, or in some pastoral pursuit; and it became evidentthat in course of time the exercise of their minds in the details of anew pursuit awakened their intelligence, and their general demeanourindicated marks of a higher cultivation. 

The New Eagley Mills being situated in a narrow valley, several milesfrom Bolton, and the property being in the possession of the owners, they forbade the opening of any tavern or beerhouse on the estate; sothat the district became distinguished for the order and sobriety of theinhabitants. A man of intemperate habits has little chance of remainingin the Ashworth villages. He is expelled, not by the employers, but bythe men themselves. He must conform to the sober habits of the place, ordecamp to some larger town, where his vices may be hidden in the crowd. Many of the parents have expressed how much gratification they havefelt, that by reason of the isolated situation they enjoyed as acommunity, they had become so completely separated from the corruptinfluences of music saloons and drink-shops. 

The masters have added to their other obligations to the workpeople, theerection of comfortable cottages for their accommodation. They are builtof stone, and are two-storied; some have two upper bedrooms, and othershave three. On the ground floor there is a sitting-room, a living-room, and a scullery, with a walled courtyard enclosing the whole premises. The proprietor pays the poor-rates and other local charges, and therentals of the houses vary from 2_s_. 4_d_. To 4_s_. 3_d_. A week. 

The regularity of their employment, accompanied with the payment ofwages on Friday night, doubtless promoted their local attachment to theplace. Many of the descendants of the first comers remain on the spot;their social relations have been promoted; intermarriages have beenfrequent; and during the whole period there has not been a singleprosecution for theft. The working people have also thriven as well astheir masters. Great numbers of them are known to possess reserved fundsin savings banks and other depositories for savings; and there areothers of them who have invested their money in cottage buildings, andin various other ways. 

But have not the men risen above their lot of labouring spinners? Theyhave. Such of them as possessed skill, ability, and the faculty oforganization, have been promoted from the ranks of labourers, and havebecome mill managers. "About _thirty_ of these, " says Mr. HenryAshworth, "have been reckoned on the spur of the moment, and _ten_ ofthem have become business partners or proprietors of mills.... Manymanufacturers, " adds Mr. Ashworth, "are to be found who have done agreat deal to ameliorate the condition of those they have employed; andno one will doubt that they have been prompted, not by hopes of gain, but by emotions of goodwill. "[1]

[Footnote 1: The greater part of the above information is contained inthe statement by Mr. Henry Ashworth, in the Reports on the ParisUniversal Exhibition, 1867, vol. Vi. , pp. 161-163. ]

Manufacturers such as these do not, like Plugson of St. Dolly Undershot, gather up their fortunes and run away, leaving a groat each to theirworkpeople to drink their healths. They remain with them from generationto generation. The best and the noblest amongst them--the Ashworths ofTurton, the Strutts of Derby, the Marshalls of Leeds, the Akroyds ofHalifax, the Brooks of Huddersfield, and many others, --have continued tosuperintend their works for several generations. The Strutts were thepartners of Arkwright, who was almost the beginner of Englishmanufacture. In fact, it is only since Arkwright took out his patent forthe spinning machine, and Watt took out his patent for the steam engine, that England has become a manufacturing country. 

Where would England have been now, but for the energy, enterprise, andpublic spirit of our manufacturers? Could agriculture have supported thecontinuous increase of population? Is it not more probable that thiscountry would have become overrun by beggars, --or that property wouldhave been assailed and the constitution upset, as was the case inFrance, --but for the extensive and remunerative employment afforded tothe labouring classes in the manufacturing districts? The steam enginehas indeed proved the safety-valve of England. It enabled the kingdom tohold its ground firmly during the continental wars; and but for it, andthe industries which it has established, England would probably by thistime have sunk to the condition of a third or fourth-rate power. 

It is true, the great manufacturers have become wealthy. But it wouldcertainly have been singular if, with their industry, energy, and powersof organization, they had become poor! Men of the stamp of the Strutts, Ashworths, Marshalls, and others, do not work for wealth merely, thoughwealth comes to them. They have not become great because they were rich, but they have become rich because they were great. Accumulations ofwealth are the result of exceptional industry, organization, and thrift, rather than of exceptional gain. Adam Smith has said: "It seldom happensthat great fortunes are made by any one regularly-established andwell-known branch of business, but in consequence of a long life ofindustry, frugality, and attention. "

But it is not always so. For instance, Mr. Lister, of Bradford, afterinventing the combing machine, --or at least combining the inventions ofothers into a complete combing machine of his own, --proceeded to inventa machine for using up silk waste (then cast away as useless), spinningit into silk of the finest kind, and by means of the power-loom to weaveit into velvet of the best quality. The attempt had never before beenmade by any inventor; and it seemed to be of insuperable difficulty. Mr. Lister had already made a fortune by the success of his combing machine, such as to enable him to retire from business, and live in comfort forthe rest of his life. But, urged by the irrepressible spirit of theinventor, he went onward with his silk machine. As he himself said, at arecent meeting at Bradford, [1]--"They might judge how hard he had workedto conquer the difficulties which beset him, when he told them that fortwenty years he had never been in bed at half-past five in the morning;in fact, he did not think there was a man in England who had workedharder than he had. " The most remarkable thing was, that he threw awayan immense fortune before there was any probability of his succeeding. "He had almost brought himself to ruin, for he was £360, 000 out ofpocket before he even made a shilling by his machine; indeed, he wroteoff a quarter of a million as entirely lost, before he began to make uphis books again. Since then, his patent for the manufacture of silk hadturned out one of the most successful of the day. "

[Footnote 1: The meeting was held to receive the transfer of Mr. Lister's fine Park at Manningham, which he had presented to theCorporation of Bradford, "to be a People's Park for ever. "]

In the Park presented by Mr. Lister to the people of Bradford, a statuewas recently erected by public subscription. It was unveiled by theRight Hon. W. E. Forster, who, in closing his speech, observed: "I doubt, after all, whether we are come here to do honour to Mr. Lister, so muchas to do honour to ourselves. We wish to do honour to those workingfaculties which have made our country of England a practical, andtherefore a great and prosperous, and a powerful country. It is thisuntiring, unresting industry which Mr. Lister possesses, this practicalunderstanding, this determination to carry out any object which he isconvinced ought to be carried out, and his determination to fear noopposition and to care for no obstacle--it is these practical facultiesthat have made England what she is. What is it especially that we arehonouring? It is the pluck which this man has shown; it is the feelingthat, having to do with the worsted trade, he said to himself, 'Here issomething which ought to be done; I will not rest until I have found outhow it can be done; and having found out how it can be done, where isthe man who shall stop my doing it?' Now it was upon that principle thathe fought his long struggle; and so when we read the story of hisstruggles, ever since 1842, in those two great inventions, we raise thisstatue to the man who has successfully fought the battle, and hope thatour sons and the sons of all, rich and poor together, will come inafter-days to admire it, not merely because it gives them the form andfeatures of a rich and successful man, but because it gives them theform and features of a man who was endowed with industry, withintellect, with energy, with courage, with perseverance, --who sparedhimself no pains in first ascertaining the conditions of the problems hehad to solve, --and then whose heart never fainted, whose will neverrelaxed, in determining to carry out those conditions. "

Great men are wise savers and wise spenders. Montesquieu has said ofAlexander: "He found the first means of his prosperity and power in thegreatness of his genius; the second, in his frugality and privateeconomy; and the third, in his immense liberality to accomplish greatobjects. He spent but little on himself; but for public purposes hishand was always open. " It was also said of the first Napoleon, that hewas economical like Charlemagne, because he was great like Charlemagne. Napoleon was by no means a spendthrift, except in war; but he spentlargely in accomplishing great public undertakings. In cases such asthese, economy and generosity are well combined. And so it is in thecases of all men possessed of energy, industry, and great powers oforganization. 

It may seem out of keeping to compare great producers with greatcommanders. Yet the manufacturer often requires as much courage, as muchgenius, as much organizing power, as the warrior. The one considers howhe shall keep his operatives in working order; the other how he shallkeep his soldiers in fighting order. Both must be men of enterprize, ofboldness, of keen observation, and close attention to details. And themanufacturer, from his position, needs to be the most benevolent man ofthe two. Viewed in this light, we regard Sir Titus Salt not only as aCaptain of Industry, but as a Field-Marshal of Industry. He has beencalled the Prince of Manufacturers. 

Titus Salt is a son of a Yorkshire wool-stapler. In the early part ofhis life he was a farmer near Bradford, and his inclination foragricultural pursuits was such, that it was thought he would continue topursue this vocation. Being, however, a partner with his father in thewool business, and observing that manufactures were rapidly extending inthe neighbourhood, he withdrew from the partnership, and commencedbusiness at Bradford as a wool-spinner. He was one of the first toobserve the uses of Alpaca wool. Large quantities of that material werestored at Liverpool, --imported from the Brazils. But the wool found nopurchasers, until at length Mr. Salt bought a quantity, and spun it intoan entirely new fabric. He then proceeded to buy up all the Alpaca thatwas to be found at Liverpool; made arrangements for purchasing all thatcame into the market; went on spinning Alpaca; and eventuallyestablished the manufacture. This was the foundation of Mr. Salt'sfortune. 

At length, after about twenty years' labour as a manufacturer, Mr. Saltthought of retiring from business, and again betaking himself to hisfavourite agricultural pursuits. He intended to retire on his fiftiethbirthday, but before that time had arrived (having five sons to providefor) he reversed his decision, and resolved to continue in business alittle longer, and to remain at the head of the firm. Having come tothis determination, he made up his mind to leave Bradford. The boroughwas already overcrowded, and he did not like to be a party to increasingthe population. He looked about for a site suitable for a manufacturingestablishment, and at length fixed upon a large piece of ground in thebeautiful valley of the Aire. An extension of the Leeds and BradfordRailway was in front, and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal behind it, sothat there was every convenience for bringing up the raw materials, andof sending away the manufactured goods. On that spot Saltaire waserected--a noble monument of private enterprise, liberality, and wisdom. 

It is not necessary to describe Saltaire. The buildings connected withthe new works cover six and a half acres. The principal room is fivehundred and fifty feet long. The weaving shed covers two acres. Thecombing shed occupies one acre. Everything is large, roomy, andsubstantial. The cost of constructing the factory, and the dwellings forthe workpeople, amounted to more than a hundred and forty thousandpounds. 

On the opening day, Mr. Salt dined three thousand five hundred personsin the combing shed. At the dinner, he said: "I cannot look around me, and see this vast assemblage of friends and workpeople, without beingmoved. I feel greatly honoured by the presence of the nobleman at myside. I am especially delighted at the presence of my workpeople.... Ihope to draw around me a population that will enjoy the beauties of thisneighbourhood, --a population of well-paid, contented, happy operatives. I have given instructions to my architects that nothing is to be sparedto render the dwellings of the operatives a pattern to the country; andif my life is spared by Divine Providence, I hope to see satisfaction, contentment, and happiness around me. "

This promise has been amply fulfilled. Mr. Salt has been influencedthroughout by his sense of duty and responsibility. When he was appliedto by the French Government for information as to his factory, hereplied: "What has been attempted at Saltaire arose from my own privatefeeling and judgment, without the most remote idea that it would be madethe subject of public interest and inquiry. " With respect to the factoryitself, little need be said. The object of its construction is to savetime in the process of production. Not a minute is lost in pushing thematerial from one department to another. Every horse-power of steam ismade to do its utmost, every moment of time is economized, and theproductive capabilities of the factory are thus greatly increased. 

We prefer to speak of the immense improvement which Mr. Salt, or ratherSir Titus Salt, has effected in the physical and moral condition of hisworkpeople. The plan of the works shows that Saltaire has been providedwith a church, a Wesleyan chapel, and a Literary and PhilosophicalInstitution. Large schools have been provided for boys, girls, andinfants, with abundance of play-ground. For young men as well as old, there is a cricket-ground, bowling-green, and croquet-lawn, surroundedby pleasure-grounds. There is also a large dining-hall, baths andwashhouses, a dispensary, and almshouses for pensioners. 

About three thousand persons are employed in the works; and sevenhundred and fifty-six houses have been erected for their accommodation. The rents run from two and fourpence to seven and sixpence a week, according to the accommodation. Some of the houses are used asboarding-houses. The rents include rates and water supply, and gas issold at a low price. The cottages are built of stone, lined withbrickwork. They contain a parlour or long room, a kitchen or scullery, apantry and cellar, and three bedrooms. Each house has a separate yard, with the usual offices. The workpeople are well able to pay the rents. Single workmen earn from twenty-four to thirty-five shillings a week. Afamily, consisting of a father and six children, earn four pounds fourshillings a week, or equal to a united income of over two hundred andtwenty pounds a year. 

The comfortable houses provided for the workpeople have awakened in themthat home feeling which has led them to decorate their dwellings neatlyand tastefully, --a sure sign of social happiness. Every visitor amongthe poor knows how such things combine to prevent vice and disease, toelevate the moral tone of working people, and to develope theirintellectual powers. A man in a dirty house, says Mr. Rhind, the medicalattendant at Saltaire, is like a beggar in miserable clothing. He soonceases to have self-respect, and when that is gone there is but littlehope. 

Great attention is paid in Saltaire to education, even of the highersort. There are day schools, night schools, mutual improvement classes, lectures, and discussions. Music--one of the most humanizing ofpleasures--is one of the most favourite studies. "In almost every housein the town some form of musical instrument is found; and indeed, thechoral and glee societies, together with the bands, have becomehousehold names. " There is one full brass band for men, and anotherdrum-and-fife band for boys; and concerts, vocal and instrumental, areregularly given by the workpeople in the dining-hall. The bands haveinstructors provided by the firm. 

Besides taking part in the musical performances, a large number of theskilled workmen devote their leisure hours to various scientificamusements, --such as natural history, taxidermy, the making ofphilosophical instruments, such as air-pumps, models of workingmachinery, steam-engines, and articles of domestic comfort, --while somehave even manufactured organs and other musical instruments. 

There is no drinking-house in Saltaire, so that the vices and diseasesassociated with drunkenness are excluded from the locality. The diseasespeculiar to poverty are also unknown in Saltaire. Everything is attendedto--drainage, cleansing, and ventilation. There are baths of allkinds--plunge baths, warm baths, Turkish baths, and douche baths; andthe wash-house, to enable the women to wash their clothes away fromtheir cottages, is a great accommodation, --inasmuch as indoor washing ismost pernicious, and a fruitful source of disease, especially to theyoung. 

The workpeople are also thrifty. They invest their savings in the PennyBank and Saving's Bank; whilst others invest in various buildingsocieties, gas companies, and other lucrative undertakings. In fact, they seem to be among the most favoured of human beings. With everyconvenience and necessity, as well as every proper pleasure provided forthem, --with comfortable homes, and every inducement to stay athome, --with fishing clubs, boating clubs, and cricket clubs, --withschoolrooms, literary institutions, lecture-hall, museum, andclass-rooms, established in their midst; and to crown all, with abeautiful temple for the worship of God, --there is no wonder thatSaltaire has obtained a name, and that Sir Titus Salt has established areputation among his fellow-men. 

There are large numbers of employers who treat their workpeople quite asgenerously, though not in such a princely manner, as Sir Titus Salt. They pay the uniform rate of wages; help and encourage the employed toeconomize their surplus earnings; establish Savings Banks and PennyBanks for their use; assist them in the formation of co-operativeassociations for the purchase of pure food at a cheaper rate; buildhealthy cottages for their accommodation; erect schools for theeducation of their children; and assist them in every method that iscalculated to promote their moral and, social improvement. 

Mr. Edward Akroyd, formerly M. P. For Halifax, is another manufacturerwho has exercised great influence throughout Yorkshire, by hisencouragement of habits of thrift amongst working people. In his owndistrict, at Copley and Haley Hill, near Halifax, he has built numerousexcellent cottages for his workmen, and encouraged them to build theirown houses by investing their spare earnings in building clubs. He hasestablished co-operative clubs, to enable the men to purchase food andclothing at cost price. He has built excellent schools at his ownexpense, and provided them with a paid staff of teachers. He has builtand endowed the very fine church of "All Souls" (Sir Gilbert Scott, architect), to which a large district, inclusive of the works, has beenassigned. He has provided for his workpeople, both at Haley Hill andCopley, a Literary and Scientific Society, a Mutual Improvement Society, a Working Men's Library (to which he has presented more than fivethousand books), a Working Men's Club and Newsroom, a Choral Society, supplied with an excellent library of music; a Recreation Club, providedwith a bowling green; and a cricket ground, with quoits, and gymnasticapparatus, Mr. Akroyd has also allotted a large field to his workmen, dividing it into small gardens varying from a hundred to two hundred andforty square yards each. The small rent charged for each plot isdistributed in prizes given at an annual flower-show held in hisgrounds, for the best growers of flowers, plants, and vegetables. Hencethe Haley Hill Horticultural and Floral Society, one of the mostthriving institutions of the kind in the neighbourhood. In short, Mr. Akroyd has done everything that a wise and conscientious master couldhave done, for the purpose of promoting the moral and spiritual welfareof the four thousand persons employed in his manufactories, who havebeen virtually committed to his charge. 

But although Mr. Akroyd has done so much as a master for the men andwomen employed by him, he has perhaps done still more as a publicbenefactor by establishing the Yorkshire Penny Bank for Savings. Asearly as the year 1852, Mr. Akroyd instituted a Savings Bank to enablehis workpeople to deposit sums of from one penny upwards. The system wasfound to work so well, and to have such a beneficial effect in makingpeople provident, that he conceived the idea of extending its operationsthroughout the West Riding of Yorkshire. Having obtained theco-operation of several influential gentlemen, the scheme was started in1856, and an Act of Parliament was obtained for constituting theYorkshire Penny Savings Bank as it now exists. 

Mr. Akroyd has recently furnished an Introduction to the narrative ofthe Yorkshire Penny Bank, from which we extract the following passage:--

"The way by which thoughts, or chance suggestions, enter into the mindsof men, is sometimes passing strange! They may be the offspring ofwayward fancy; or they may be the whisperings from a higher source. Tothe latter cause I am willing to attribute the idea which flashed acrossmy mind during the present year to give to the public something beyondthe bare outline of the scheme, in which, for years, many of them havetaken a warm personal interest. 

"It occurred in this wise. When in town, I occasionally attended, duringLent, the services at Whitehall Chapel, for the sake of hearing a Lentensermon preached by one of Her Majesty's chaplains. One remarkable sermonof the series was delivered by the Rev. Charles Kingsley, on the 12th ofMarch, on behalf of the Supplemental Ladies' Association of the LondonSociety of Parochial Mission Women. In the sketch which the preachergave of this excellent institution, he referred to a book entitled 'Eastand West, ' in which the benefits derived by the London poor from theassociation are clearly set forth; but he dwelt chiefly on the wideseparation which divides rich from poor, class from class, in London;and on the dangers which threaten Society from this cause, as wasrecently exemplified in France. Such was the impression made upon me bythe sermon, that, before many days had elapsed, I had purchased 'Eastand West, ' and given the book a careful perusal. 

"From previous observation I had been struck with the sad contrastbetween the luxurious lives of those who reside at the West End ofLondon, and the struggle for a hard, wretched existence which thecrowded poor at the East, or in close purlieus elsewhere, are obliged tomaintain until death closes the scene. How to bridge over the wide chasmintervening between the extremes of high and low in society, withoutinjury to self-respect on either side, was the puzzling question, theproblem to be solved. Yet, from the admirable introduction to this mostuseful little work, by the Countess Spencer, it appeared that a lady ofhigh rank, and her noble-minded associates, had in some measure solvedthe problem, and bridged over the chasm. 

"Hence I was led to reflect how much easier it is to discharge our dutyto our neighbours, and to fulfil the leading object of the ParochialMission Women Association, to 'help the poor to help themselves, ' inprovincial towns and in the country, where we are personally acquaintedwith each other, than in London, where we do not know our next-doorneighbour. _To help the poor to help themselves_ is the cardinalprinciple of the Yorkshire Penny Bank. "[1]

[Footnote 1 e Yorkshire Penny Bank, a Narrative; with an Introduction byEdward Akroyd, M. P. ]

The business of the bank commenced on the 1st of May, 1859. At the endof the year, when the bank had been in operation seven months, twenty-four branches had been opened. It went on increasing in thenumber of branches and depositors, and in the amounts deposited. In1874, about two hundred and fifty branches had been established, and theamount of investments in the names of trustees had reached nearly fourhundred thousand pounds. 

The Yorkshire Penny Bank does not interfere with the Post Office SavingsBank. It has a special function, that of teaching the young of eithersex _the habit of saving_. It is also convenient to the adult worker asa convenient receptacle for his savings. Many have been induced to save, in consequence of the banks having been brought almost to their verydoors. One of the most remarkable facts connected with the history ofPenny Banks is the sympathetic influence of juvenile thrift uponpaternal recklessness and intemperance. The fact is well worthy theconsideration of Temperance advocates, who would probably effect muchgreater practical good by enabling working people to save their money inthe Penny Banks, than by any speech-making agency. Take, for instance, the following illustrations from Mr. Akroyd's narrative:--

An actuary says: "All the juvenile depositors seem inclined to take careof their pence by depositing them in the bank; and the grown-up peoplehave become of the same turn of mind, --rather than carry their loosemoney to the public-house, or spend it foolishly. Some factoryoperatives have saved sufficient to buy stock and commence farming. "

Another actuary says: "A drunken father being shamed out of hisdrunkenness by the deposits of his children, now deposits half-a-crown aweek in the bank. A notoriously bad man, a collier, became a regulardepositor himself, as well as depositing money in the name of his child;all his spare money having previously been spent in drink. From the dateof his beginning to save, a perceptible improvement took place in hisconduct and character. In another case, two boys prevailed upon theirfather, also a collier, to allow them to deposit a shilling a week, until they had saved sufficient to buy themselves each a suit of newclothes. Before then, all their father's earnings, as well as their own, had been spent in drink. "

An actuary of another branch says he has seen fathers and mothers, whohave been drunkards, send their children with money to the bank, Hesays: "My heart was made to rejoice when I saw a boy, who never had asuit of new clothes in his life, draw out his money, and in less thantwo hours return well clad, to take his place in the school to practisesinging for Good Friday. At the meeting of the Band of Hope on GoodFriday, he asked the parents and children to signify by holding up theirhands whether or not the bank had been beneficial to them; when manyhands were instantly raised, --one poor mother exclaiming, 'I will put upboth my hands for my two bairns!'"

"A miner, the father of a family, reclaimed from drunkenness, saved hismoney in the bank until, with the aid of a loan from a building society, he built two houses at a cost of four hundred pounds. The bank has beento many people what the hive is to the bee--a kind of repository; andwhen the wintry days of sickness or adversity befall them, they havethen the bank to flee to for succour. "

A missionary says: "I met a man and his wife about two years ago--bothdrunk. I got them to sign the pledge, and since then to invest theirmoney in our bank. The pawnbroker had got the greater part of theirgoods; but I am happy to say that they have got all the articles out ofpawn, and can bring a little money almost every week to the bank; andwhen putting in the money, the man says that it is better than taking itto the public-house. Their home is now a very comfortable one. "

A drunkard one night came to the bank, and flinging down a shilling fora start, said, "There! that is the price of six pints of beer; but Ipromise the landlords that they shan't have as much of my money as theyhave had. " This man has become sober; and continues a regular depositor. 

In another bank, a man who had been a reckless and desperate fellow wasinduced by his wife to deposit a few coppers in the bank. He did so, andhis weekly deposits increased; while at the same time his visits to thepublic-house decreased. In the course of a short time he had arespectable balance to his credit; and this induced him to take a sharein a building society, and then a second share. After continuing to payupon these shares for some time, he purchased a piece of land, uponwhich he built two houses. One of these he occupies himself, and theother he lets. Besides this, he is now a respectable tradesman, havingtwo or three journeymen and an apprentice working for him. He is soberand steady, and much respected by his friends and neighbours. 

Many other cases of the same kind might be mentioned. In one case a boysaved sufficient money to buy a suit of clothes for his father, who hadspent all his earnings in drink, and reduced himself and his family topoverty; in other cases, sons and daughters maintain their infirmparents without resorting to the parochial Board for assistance. Somesave for one thing; some for another. Some save to emigrate; some to buyclothes; some to buy a watch; but in all cases frugality is trained, until saving becomes habitual. 

One of the Yorkshire actuaries of the Penny Bank tells the followinganecdote as conveying a lesson of perseverance and encouragement tobranch managers. "Mr. Smith was one of our first managers, but afterattending two or three times he left us, saying it was 'childish work. 'My answer was, 'It is with children we have to do. ' A short time after, I met him, and in the course of conversation I observed that I sometimesgot _down in the mouth_, and did not know whether we were doing anygood, and felt disposed to give up the bank; on which he warmly replied, 'For God's sake, you must not let such an idea get into your head; youlittle know the good you are doing; we have not a man about our placebut either himself or some members of his family are depositors. '" Theactuary adds, "If Colonel Akroyd ever despairs, I give him the aboveanswer. "

Savings banks have thus been the means of doing an immense amount ofgood. They have brought peace, happiness, and comfort into manythousands of families. The example of Mr. Akroyd should be largelyimitated, and there ought not to be a county in the kingdom without itsorganized system of Penny Banks. 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE CROSSLEYS--MASTERS AND MEN (CONTINUED). 

"The sense to enjoy riches, with the art T' enjoy them, and the virtue to impart. "--_Pope_. 

"My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune o' this present year. "--_Shakespeare_. 

"The roughest road often leads to the smoothest fortune. "--_Franklin_. 

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. Theheart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have noneed of spoil.... She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly withher hands.... She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands holdthe distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reachethforth her hands to the needy.... Strength and honour are her clothing;and she shall rejoice in time to come.... Her children arise up, andcall her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. "--_Proverbs ofSolomon_. 

There are several large employers who have endeavoured to combine theprinciple of co-operation with the business of manufacturing; and tofurnish to the men who have contributed to their past prosperity theopportunity of sharing in their future profits. The object of thesemasters has been to obviate the antagonism between capital and labour, and to spread the spirit of contentment among the operatives. Workmenwho have saved their earnings, and stored them in savings banks, are inthis manner enabled to become partners in the concerns in which theyhave formerly employed their labour. 

The two principal manufacturing concerns of Halifax, those of JamesAkroyd and Son, and John Crossley and Sons, have thus become convertedinto joint stock companies. They have been so converted with the primarydesign of receiving the co-operation of the managers, workmen, andothers associated with them; and with that view the directors have inall cases given them the priority in the allotment of the shares. 

We have already referred to the philanthropic work accomplished byEdward Akroyd in the county of York. We have now to refer to theCrossley firm, whose carpets are known throughout the world. We refer tothem with the greater pleasure, as their history contains a story whichmay possibly add to the interest of this book, --which, however useful, some readers may consider to be rather dull to read. 

The founder of this firm was John Crossley. He belonged to an oldYorkshire family. His grandfather, who lived at King's Cross, nearHalifax, was born of respectable parents, and had a good education, yethe was by no means fond of business. In fact, he spent the greater partof his time in hunting and shooting. His wife was, however, of a verydifferent character. She was industrious, energetic, and an excellenthousehold manager. She not only maintained herself, but her husband andher family. She did this by means of a boarding school which shekept, --one of the best in the neighbourhood of Halifax. 

One of her sons, the father of John Crossley, was brought up tocarpet-weaving. He learnt his business with Mr. Webster, of Clay-pits, one of whose daughters he afterwards married. John Crossley himself alsobecame a carpet-weaver with his uncle; and when his apprenticeship wasfinished, he went to weave for Mr. Currer, a large carpet manufacturerat Luddenden Foot. While working at this factory, his master built alarge fine house to live in. He thought he had money enough saved forthe purpose, but circumstances proved that he had not. Mr. Currer toldhis foreman that he had kept an account of its cost until he had spent£4, 000, and then he became so disgusted that he burnt the memorandumbook, although the house was not nearly finished. He said "he had doneall that to please a woman, "--meaning his wife. Although Mr. Currer wasan excellent man of business, his wife was too fond of show, and thelarge fine house in which she was to live proved her husband's ruin. Hedied shortly after it was finished, and then the whole of hisestablishment was broken up. 

After leaving Mr. Currer, John Crossley removed to Halifax to take themanagement of Mr. Job Lees' carpet manufactory in Lower George Yard, Halifax. He began to look out for a wife, and the history of hiscourtship is curious as well as interesting. The Crossleys seem to havehad the good fortune to fall in with excellent wives; and the prosperityof the family is quite as much due to the Crossley women as to theCrossley men. 

Martha Crossley, the future wife of John Crossley, was born at FollyHall, near the Ambler Thorn Bar. Her great-grandfather, Thomas Turner, was a farmer. He lived at the Upper Scout Hall, Shibden, and thefarm-house which he occupied, at the head of the Shibden Valley, isstill in existence. The eldest son was brought up to his father'sbusiness. The youngest son, Abraham, was brought up to farming, weaving, and combing. He married, and had three children--Abraham, Thomas, andMartha. Abraham, the eldest, was father of Mrs. John Crossley, _née_Turner. 

Abraham was also brought up to farming and manufacturing; but it must beremembered that manufacturing was in those days conducted on a very muchsmaller scale than it is now. He afterwards went into partnership withhis brother Thomas, to make worsted goods, but after his marriage thepartnership was dissolved. He then became the proprietor of the ScoutFarm, and there brought up his family. 

Although Abraham Turner was a landed proprietor, he did not think itbeneath him to allow his daughter Martha to go out to service. Whenabout fifteen years old she went as a servant to Miss Oldfield atWarley. In that service, in her own person, she did the work ofkitchenmaid, housemaid, and cook, and in addition to that, she milkedfour or five cows night and morning. She remained about ten years withMiss Oldfield. Her wages were at first fifteen-pence a week; after twoyears, they were increased to eighteen-pence; and after nine years'service, they were increased to six guineas a year. Yet during that timeMartha Turner saved thirty pounds by sheer thrift. 

John Crossley, the founder of the Crossley firm, and the husband ofMartha Turner, was originally a carpet-weaver. One night, when workingat the loom, he was taking his "drinking, " and on laying down his blackbottle it fell and broke. In trying to catch the bottle, he cut his armso severely that it was thought he would have bled to death. He couldnot work at the loom any longer, and he was going about with his arm ina sling, when his employer, Mr. Currer, said to him, "John, do you thinkyou could tie up a loom, as you cannot now weave?" John replied that hethought he could. He tried, and proved so expert that his master wouldnot allow him to go back to the loom. John Crossley used to regard theaccident to his arm as the turning-point in his life. 

In the meantime he was going on with the business of courtship, thoughit was very much against the wish of the proud farmer--the father ofMartha Turner. He declared that he would never allow his daughter tomarry a weaver, or even a foreman of weavers. Perhaps the story of theircourtship is best told in Martha's own words. 

"When I went to the gate one evening, there was a young man standingthere, who asked me if I wanted a sweetheart. I answered, 'Not I, marry!I want no sweethearts. ' I then went into the house, and left him. I sawthe same young man frequently about, but did not speak to him for yearsafter. His name was John Crossley. When my mistress ascertained hisobject, she did all she could to set me against him. She told me thatwhen she was a girl, she had gone to a boarding-school kept by a Mrs. Crossley, --that her husband's name was Tom Crossley, the grandfather ofthis very man that was courting me, --and that a wilder, idler scapegraceshe never knew. She always said, when she saw him coming, 'There's youngCrossley come again. '

"One day I received a love-letter from him, which I could now repeatword for word. I had several other suitors, but none were so perseveringas John Crossley. He pressed me very much to have him. At last he sentme a letter to say that a house was vacant in Lower George Yard, closeto the works he was managing, and that it was a great chance to meetwith one so convenient. I told him that I was going home to spend the5th of November, and would pass that way and look at the house, which Idid. When I got home I asked my parents for their consent. They did notobject much to it at the time; but I had not been at Miss Oldfield'smore than a day or two, before they sent over my sister Grace to saythat they would not give their consent to the match, and that if Iinsisted on being married to John Crossley, they would never look me inthe face again. 

"So soon as my sister was gone, I retired in a most distressed state offeeling to my bedroom, and opened my book that was the preparation forthe sacrament, and the first place at which I opened I read these words:'When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will takethee up. ' This comforted me very much. I felt that the Lord was with mein this matter, and I could no longer doubt which was the path ofduty.... I decided to accept John Crossley's offer, and we were marriedon the 28th day of January, 1800. "

Mr. Crossley never did a better day's work than in marrying hisexcellent and noble wife. From that day forward she was his helper, hisco-worker, his consoler. She assisted her husband in all his struggles, and in a certain sense she was the backbone of the Crossley family. 

After the death of Mr. Job Lees, whose carpet manufactory he hadmanaged, Mr. Crossley entered into partnership with two other persons, to take the plant and carry on the business. Some difference havingoccurred with the partners, he left the firm, and took a lease of DeanClough Mill, where he entered into another partnership with his brotherThomas, and James Travers. There they carried on the business of worstedspinning. At the same time, John Crossley continued to spin and dye theyarns and to manage the looms of the firm which he had left. In fact, the dyeing and spinning for the old firm formed a considerable part ofthe business of the new one. Then came a crisis. The old firm took awaytheir work: they sent the wool to be spun and the yarn to be dyedelsewhere. This was a great blow; but eventually it was got over byextra diligence, energy, and thrift, --Mrs. Crossley herself taking afull share in the labours and responsibility of her husband. 

"In addition to the carpet making, " she says in the Manuscript Memoir ofher life, "we carried on the manufacture of shalloons and plainbacks, the whole of which I managed myself, so far as putting out the warps andweft, and taking in from the weavers. We had at one time as many as ahundred and sixty hand weavers on these goods. We sold the principalpart of them in London. We had also about four looms making brace websand body belts. The produce of these looms I sold principally to theIrish, who made them up into braces and hawked them about the country. Ialso made and stitched, with assistance, all the carpets that we soldretail. I used to get up to work by four o'clock in the morning, andbeing very diligent, I have usually earned two shillings beforebreakfast, by the time that my neighbours were coming downstairs. "

The partnership of Crossley, Travers, and Crossley, lasted for twentyyears. When the term had expired, the partners shared their savings;they amounted to £4, 200, or fourteen hundred pounds to each. This wasnot a very large sum to make during twenty years' hard work; but DeanClough Mill was then but a small concern, and each partner did his ownshare of handiwork in spinning, dyeing, and weaving. Mrs. Crossley saysthat "the fourteen hundred pounds came in very useful. " In fact, it wasonly a beginning. John Crossley eventually bought the Dean Clough Millsout and out. He had a family of eight children to provide for; and heput his sons for the most part into his business. They followed theexample of their parents, and became thrifty, useful, and honourablemen. 

John Crossley, the founder of the firm, has observed, that in the courseof his life he was a keen observer of men and things. He says he noticedmany of the failures of his neighbours in bringing up their children. Some fathers were so strict with their children, keeping them soconstantly at home, and letting them see so little of the world in whichthey lived, that when the fathers died and the children were removedfrom all restraint, they came forth into the world like calves, andfound everything entirely different from what they expected. Suchunguided young persons, Mr. Crossley found, soon became wild, lost, andruined. Then he observed the opposite extreme, --where the fathersindulged their children so much, that they became quite unfitted toendure the hardships of the world, --and, like a vessel that is sent tosea without a helm, they soon became stranded on the shores of life. 

Hence Mr. Crossley endeavoured to steer clear of both extremes, and togive to his sons as much knowledge and experience of life as possible. When at home, he always had one of his sons near him; or when he wentfrom home, he always took one of them with him. Thus they gained a greatdeal of practical knowledge of life, and knew something of the good andevil in the world; and as they grew older, they were all the better ableto turn their own lives to the best account. 

It is not necessary to follow the history of the Crossley familyfurther. John Crossley died in 1837, after which the firm was conductedby John, Joseph, and Sir Francis Crossley, Bart. The latter representedthe West Riding of the county of York at the time of his death, a fewyears ago. In 1857 he purchased a splendid piece of ground, which hepresented to the Corporation of Halifax, to be used as a People's Parkfor ever. In the speech which he made on the occasion of presenting it, he said, amongst other things, that he had often discussed with hisfriend the Mayor the philosophy of money. "I recollect very well, " hesaid, "once entering into the question with him, when I was twenty yearsyounger than I am now, and saying that I saw a great deal of emptinessabout this money-getting; that many were striving for that which theythought would make them happy, but that it was like a bubble upon thewater--no sooner caught than burst.... Had I, " he afterwards said, "beenof noble birth, or traced my origin (like some in this room) to thosewho came in with William the Conqueror, however true it might be, itwould not have been good, it would even be boastful to have done so. [1]But since I am of humble birth, perhaps it will be allowed me to say alittle of those who ought to share the honour which is heaped upon me. My mother was the daughter of a farmer who lived upon his own estate, and although it was not large, it had been in the family for manygenerations. Her father made the same mistake that Jacob made, --Jacobmade too much of Joseph, and her father made too much of Mary. My motherwas seventeen, and quick in disposition. She said that right was notdone to her at home, and she was determined to make her own way in theworld, whatever the consequences might be. She went out to service, contrary to the wish of her father. I am honoured to-day with thepresence of one who has descended from the family who engaged her asservant: I mean Mr. Oldfield, of Stock Lane, vice-chairman of theHalifax Board of Guardians. In that service, in her own person, she didthe work of kitchenmaid, of housemaid, and of cook; and in addition tothat she regularly milked six cows every night and morning. Besideswhich, she kept the house, which was as clean as a little palace. Butthis was not enough to employ her willing hands. Her mistress took inwool or tops to spin, and she could do what scarcely any in Warley couldhave done, --she spun that wool to thirty-six hanks in the pound, andthus earned many a guinea for her mistress, besides doing all her otherwork. "[2]

[Footnote 1: Those who "came in with William the Conqueror" are not theoldest but the youngest of British families. They are the most recentoccupiers of British soil. The Angles and Saxons, whose lands theNormans divided amongst themselves, occupied Britain many hundred yearsbefore the arrival of the Conqueror. In the remote dales of Yorkshireand Lancashire, the ancient race still exists. And thus the Crossleyfamily may have a much longer pedigree, could they but trace it, thanany of those who "came in with William the Conqueror. " The latter areable to trace their origin because their numbers are so small, theirpossessions so large, and their introduction as English proprietorscomparatively so recent. ]

[Footnote 2: In these snobbish days, when rich people are so oftenashamed of their fathers and grandfathers, and vainly endeavour to makeout their ancient 'nobility, ' it was honest and manly on the part of SirFrancis Crossley thus publicly to relate these facts; and to share withhis mother the honour of conferring his splendid present of the People'sPark on the townsmen of Halifax. ]

Sir Francis went on to relate the history of his father (as given abovefrom his own manuscript), until the time when he took the Dean CloughMill. "My mother, " he says, "went thither with her usual energy. As shewas going down the yard at four o'clock in the morning, she made thisvow: 'If the Lord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste ofit. ' It is to this vow, given with so much faithfulness, and kept withso much fidelity, that I attribute the great success which my father hadin business. My mother was always looking how she could best keep thisvow. In the days that are gone by, when it was a dreary thing to giveemployment to a large number of people, the advice that she gave to hersons was, 'Do not sell your goods for less than they cost, for it wouldruin you without permanently benefiting any one; but if you can go ongiving employment during the winter, do so, for it is a bad thing for aworking man to go home and hear his children cry for bread, when he hasnone to give them. '"

And now with respect to the manner in which Sir Francis Crossleyfulfilled the vow of his mother. "On the 10th of September, 1855, " hesaid, "I left Quebec early in the morning, for the White Mountains inthe United States. I remember passing through some of the most gloriousscenery I had ever seen. On reaching the hotel at the White Mountains, Iwent out alone for an evening walk. It was a beautiful spot. The sun wasjust declining behind Mount Washington, amidst all the glorious draperyof an American sunset. I felt as if I was walking with God. 'What, ' saidI, 'shall I render for all His benefits to me? Lord, what wilt Thou haveme to do?' The answer came immediately. It was this: 'It is true thoucanst not bring the many thousands thou has left behind thee in thynative country, to see this beautiful scenery, but thou canst take suchscenery to them. It is possible so to arrange art and nature that theyshall be within the reach of every working man in Halifax; that he shallgo and take his evening walk there, after his day's toil has been done. 'Well, that seemed to me a glorious thought! I walked home, and my prayerthat night was, that in the morning I might feel that my thought wasjustified, and that I might be spared to put it in execution. I sleptsoundly that night, and when I awoke my impression was confirmed. On the10th of September, when I left Quebec for the White Mountains, I had nomore idea of making a park than any one here has of building a city. Onthe day I reached home, I felt as convinced that I should carry out mythought, as I was of my own existence. And from that day to this I havenever flinched from the undertaking, whatever difficulties might arise. It is a happy day for me that I have been permitted to see the result, in the People's Park that has been opened to-day. "

The Park was opened in August, 1857. [1] Three years later, a fine statueof Sir Francis Crossley (by Mr. Joseph Durham) was placed in the Park, so that all comers, while beholding the princely gift, might also seethe form and features of the giver. The cost of the statue was defrayedby public subscription, in which persons of all political partiesjoined. The preparation of the statue was delayed by the revolution inItaly, which placed Victor Emanuel on the Italian throne. While thequarrymen at Carrara were digging out the block of marble of which thefigure was to be sculptured, they were roused by shouts of "Liberty, "coupled with the name of Garibaldi, and they left their work to join thebanner of that victorious leader. In front of the statue is thefollowing inscription: "This statue of Frank Crossley, Esq. , M. P. Forthe West Riding of the county of York, donor of the People's Park, waserected August 14, 1860, by the inhabitants of Halifax, his native town, as a tribute of gratitude and respect to one whose public benefactionsand private virtues deserve to be remembered. "

[Footnote 1: The Park is situated in the centre of the borough ofHalifax, and covers twelve acres and a half of ground. It cost SirFrancis Crossley £35, 000, who also gave to the Corporation £6, 300 to beinvested for its maintenance. ]

But the vow of Martha Crossley was not yet entirely fulfilled: "If theLord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of it. " That waswhat she promised on her husband's entering into possession of DeanClough Mills; and her sons have nobly fulfilled her promise. In 1864, the extensive business of John Crossley and Sons, with all its mills, machinery, plant, warehouses and stock-in-trade--at Halifax, Kidderminster, Manchester, and London, --was converted into a joint-stockcompany. The company was formed with the primary design of receiving theco-operation of all parties associated with the business, and with theobject of securing a spirit of harmony and the material well-being andprofit of the workpeople, clerks, managers, and others interested in theconcern. In order to enable the workpeople to join in the business, alarge sum of money was lent to them for the purpose of taking upreturned shares in the company; and the workpeople took them up to alarge extent. A preference was always given to the managers andoperatives; and the amount of shares applied for by them was invariablyallotted in full. 

The results of this system have proved entirely satisfactory; thedirectors reporting that "the active energies of all parties necessaryto ensure success have been fully enlisted. They claim originality, intheir method of securing the direct interest of the _employés_, and theyrejoice in being able to report that the system has more than realizedtheir highest expectations. "[1] At the present time, the _employés_ holdshares in the company, of the value of about thirty thousand pounds; andthe deposit bank, founded for the use of the workpeople exclusively, contains money-savings amounting to more than sixteen thousand pounds!And thus the vow of Martha Crossley, that the poor should taste of theprosperity of John Crossley and Sons, has been amply and noblyfulfilled!

[Footnote 1: Reports of the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, vol. Vi. , pp. 119--141. ]

One of the most promising of co-operative undertakings established byemployers for the benefit of their workpeople, was that of the Messrs. Briggs and Son, of Whitwood collieries, near Wakefield. The collierieswere converted into a limited company in 1865. The working colliers weremade partners in the prosperity of the concern to this extent, --thatwhenever the divisible profits accruing from the business in any year, after making allowance for depreciation, exceeded ten per cent, on thecapital embarked, all those employed by the company were to receiveone-half of such excess profit as a bonus, to be distributed amongstthem in proportion to their respective earnings during the year. Theobject of the owners was to put an end to strikes, which had sometimesplaced them in peril of their lives, and also to enable them to live onbetter terms with their workpeople. The colliers were invited to becomeshareholders, and thus to take a personal interest in the prosperity ofthe concern. 

The project was received with great favour by the friends ofco-operation. Mr. John Stuart Mill, in his Principles of PoliticalEconomy, announced that "the Messrs. Briggs had taken the _first step_;and that it was highly honourable on the part of those employers oflabour to have initiated a system so full of benefit both to theoperatives employed and to the general interests of social improvement. "Mr. Hughes, M. P. , after visiting the collieries, expressed his surpriseat the great success achieved in the first year of working thecollieries as a partnership of industry. "I believe, " he said to theowners, "that in taking this step you have done a great work forEngland, and one which will be gratefully recognized before long by thecountry. " The promoters also claimed a reward from the Paris UniversalExhibition, for having been "the first large employers in England whohave allowed all their workpeople, whether co-shareholders with them ornot, to participate in all divisible profits beyond a fixed percentageon the paid-up capital of the company. "

Only a few years have passed, and already this promising partnership ofindustry has come to an end. It has not been brought to an end by themasters, but by the men. The masters were satisfied with the profitsmade during the recent high prices of coal; but the men were notsatisfied with the wages. Had they been as free as the Welsh colliers, they would have insisted on being paid as highly; but it would havebeen, as it was in Wales, ruinous to the masters. The system ofindustrial partnership had at length to be abandoned, and the men nowwork for wages instead of for part-profits. The truth is, the collierswere not sufficiently educated to appreciate the advantages of theindustrial scheme. Though some of the Whitwood workmen have beenstimulated by thrift, to build and furnish houses of their own, thegreater number of them, during the recent flush of prosperity, squandered their wages on frivolity, extravagance, and intemperance. 

The attempt was also made by several firms engaged in the iron trade, toembody the principle of co-operation in their respective concerns. Amongst these were the firms of Greening and Co. , Manchester, and Fox, Head, and Co. , Middlesborough. 

The experiments were to a certain extent brought to an end by the greedor laziness of the colliers, who have for a time destroyed theprosperity of the iron trade. Messrs. Greening and Co. Started withgreat enthusiasm; and the results were very successful as regards theworkpeople. Nothing could have been better than the spirit of goodwill, and even devotion, which was displayed by many of them. But, unhappily, contracts were taken by the management, which resulted in a series oflosses; and the scheme ended in liquidation. Mr. Greening states that"the Distribution Societies have as yet been much more successful thanthe Production Societies;" but he hopes "to see the latter crown theedifice by making workers everywhere no longer servants, but co-partnerswith capital. "

The firm of Fox, Head, and Co. Also admitted their workmen to apartnership of profits. They had for some time been much annoyed bystrikes. Their works had stood idle for about a fourth of the whole timethat had elapsed since their commencement. The system of co-operationwas adopted in 1866, at the close of a long strike. One of theconditions of the scheme was that Fox, Head, and Co. Should not bemembers of any association of employers, and that the workmen should notbe members of any trades union. The original intention was to pay theworkmen a bonus according to profits. They eventually adopted thepractice of the Messrs. Briggs and Co. , which was, to divide the profitsover ten per cent. Into two parts: the one to belong to the capitalistsas their profit, and the other to be divided amongst all those who hadreceived wages or salaries during the year, in proportion to the amountreceived by them. An opportunity was also afforded to the workmen ofdepositing their savings with the firm; but as there was only oneinstance, during three years, of a workman applying to invest hissavings, this clause was withdrawn. 

In consequence of the depressed state of the iron trade, there were noprofits to be divided during the first two years. The men were, however, paid the current rate of wages, and were saved the expenses of Unionlevies. The co-operative store, which had been founded by the workmen, was in a very prosperous condition. In the third year of theco-operative scheme, a bonus of two and a half per cent, was dividedbetween the employers and the employed. The workmen also received anadvance of five per cent. In wages. In the fourth year the wages of theworkmen were further increased ten per cent. , and this took the creamoff the bowl. However, a bonus of four per cent. Was paid on the wagesand salaries received by the _employés_ during that year. At the meetingheld to communicate the result of the year's business, Mr. Head said:--

"There may be some who think the tendency of our policy has been toosentimental. I don't believe in doing business on sentimentalprinciples. But I contend that mere money-making is not the sole end ofexistence. We have been associated with many of you for several years, and we cannot help feeling a considerable interest in you. After all, life is not so very long. Another twenty or thirty years will see us allunder ground, and there will be other employers and other workmencarrying on business at Newport Rolling Mills. It would indeed bestrange if we did not take some interest in those with whom we are somuch associated. And so, without in the least relaxing discipline, orsacrificing any true principle of business, we hold it to be our duty asemployers, as well as your duties as _employés_, to consider eachother's interests, and to do all that each of us can in the way of trueand hearty co-operation. "

The coal famine began to tell upon the iron-workers. The furnaces wereoften laid off for want of coal. The principal causes of the bad supplyof coal arose from shorter hours of labour, and higher wages for lesswork. Yet a bonus of three and a quarter per cent, was allowed on thewages and salaries received by the _employés_ during the year 1871. Theco-operative stores continued to be very productive, and many of themembers saved considerable sums of money. In the next year, a bonus ofthree and a half per cent, was divided. But difficulties were in store. The coal famine continued. The employers of labour held meetings toresist the successive advances of wages, and to counteract theoperations of the trades unions. 

Mr. Head strongly urged the men to hold together: "Cease to be deluded, "he said, "by these trades unions. Save all you can, and with yoursavings provide against the day of sickness--a day which is sure to comesooner or later. Provide for old age; read good books, --you have everychance now, with a free library in the town. Give credit to others forwishing to be straightforward and honest as well as yourselves; and inevery way I would ask you to act as reasonable, straightforward, sensible English workmen ought to do. Show that you can appreciate beingwell used, that you can appreciate those who put themselves to troublethat they may do you good; and beware lest, by want of sympathy, youdrive the best of the employers out of the business, and retain thosealone who are despotic and tyrannical. Cease to follow those who areactuated by self-interest, or by blind impulse; who do not care a bit ifthey get you into trouble, provided only they serve their own selfishends. Such men are but blind leaders of the blind, and if you followthem you will eventually find yourselves deserted, and lying hopelesslyand helplessly in the last ditch. "

It was of no use. The men's wages went up twenty per cent. ; and therewas an end of the bonuses. The coal famine continued. The masters, instead of making profits, made immense losses. The price of iron wentdown. The mills stood idle for two months. The result was, that when themasters next met the workmen in public meeting, Mr. Waterhouse, theauditor, reported that "while the gross earnings of the year haveexceeded the expenditure on materials, wages, and trade charges, theyhave been insufficient to cover the full amounts to be provided underthe co-operative scheme for interest on capital, depreciation, and thereserve for bad debts; and that consequently it was his duty to declarethat no amount was at present payable as bonus either to employers oremployed. " No further report was issued in 1875, excepting anannouncement that there was no dividend, and that the firm did notintend to continue the co-operative scheme any longer. During the timethat it lasted, the _employés_ had received about eight thousand poundsin bonuses. 

Since then, Sir Joseph Whitworth has announced his intention of givinghis workmen a bonus upon his profits; but the principle of the divisionhas not yet been announced. On hearing of his intention, Mr. Carlylewrote the following letter to Sir Joseph:--

"Would to heaven that all the captains of industry in England had a soulin them such as yours. The look of England is to me at this momentabundantly ominous, the question of capital and labour growing ever moreanarchic, insoluble altogether by the notions hitherto applied toit--pretty sure to issue in petroleum one day, unless some other gospelthan that of the 'Dismal Science' come to illuminate it. Two things arepretty sure to me. The first is that capital and labour never can orwill agree together till they both first of all decide on doing theirwork faithfully throughout, and like men of conscience and honour, whosehighest aim is to behave like faithful citizens of this universe, andobey the eternal commandments of Almighty God, who made them. The secondthing is, that a sadder object than even that of the coal strike, or anyother conceivable strike, is the fact that--loosely speaking--we may sayall England has decided that the profitablest way is to do its work ill, slurily, swiftly, and mendaciously. What a contrast between now and sayonly a hundred years ago! At the latter date all England awoke to itswork--to an invocation to the Eternal Maker to bless them in their day'slabour, and help them to do it well. Now, all England--shopkeepers, workmen, all manner of competing labourers--awaken as with an unspokenbut heartfelt prayer to Beelzebub, --'Oh, help us, thou great Lord ofShoddy, Adulteration, and Malfeasance, to do our work with the maximumof sluriness, swiftness, profit, and mendacity, for the devil's sake. Amen. '"

Fortunately, there is not a great deal of truth in this letter, nor inthe "heartfelt prayer" to Shoddy. The Right Hon. Mr. Forster ought toknow something of labour and capital, and at a recent meeting of theCobden Club he stated that "they were often told that they had a warwithin their borders between labour and capital; but as an employer oflabour ever since he came to manhood, he would only say that he neverknew a time in which employer and employed were on better terms. "

The late Sir Francis Crossley observed that there was a good deal ofunreasonable feeling abroad. It was held by some that it was wrong forworking men to sell their labour at the best price; but it must beremembered that their labour was the only thing they had to sell; andthe best thing to do was to leave those matters to take their naturalcourse. It was a great mistake, on the part of employers, to supposethat the lowest-priced labour was always the cheapest. If there was notso much desire to run down the price of labour, and the masters showed amore conciliatory spirit, there would be fewer strikes and outrages. 

"What a contrast between now and say only a hundred years ago!"Certainly there is a very great contrast. England was not amanufacturing country a hundred years ago. We imported nearlyeverything, except corn, wool, and flax. We imported the greatest partof our iron from Spain, Sweden, Germany, and Russia. We imported ourpottery from Holland, our hats from Flanders, our silk from France, ourcloth and carpets from Belgium. Our cotton manufactures, our woollen andflax manufactures, our machine manufactures, could scarcely be said toexist. Coal could scarcely be had, for the coal-pits could not be keptclear of water. 

A hundred years ago, we could not build a steam-engine; we couldscarcely build a bridge. Look at the churches built a hundred years ago, and behold the condition of our architecture. A hundred years ago, wehad fallen to almost the lowest condition as a nation. We had not aharbour; we had not a dock. The most extensive system of robberyprevailed on the River Thames. The roads, such as they were, swarmedwith highwaymen; and black-mail was levied by the Highlanders upon theLowland farmers, down to the middle of last century. 

A hundred years ago, our ships were rotten; they were manned byprisoners taken from the hulks, or by working men pressed in the streetsin open day. When James Watt was learning his trade of an instrumentmaker in London, a hundred years ago, he durst scarcely walk abroad lesthe should be seized and sent to India or the American plantations. Lessthan a hundred years ago, the colliers and salters of Scotland wereslaves. It is not forty years since women and children worked incoalpits. Surely we are not to go down upon our knees and pray for arestoration of the horrible things that existed a hundred years ago. 

A hundred years ago, Ireland was treated like a conquered country; andhangings and shootings of rebels were frequent. The fleet at the Noremutinied; and the mutiny was put down by bloodshed and executions. Townsand cities swarmed with ruffians; and brutal sports and brutal languageexisted to a frightful degree. Criminals were hanged, five or sixtogether, at Tyburn. Gibbets existed at all the cross-roads throughoutthe country. The people were grossly ignorant, and altogether neglected. Scepticism and irreligion prevailed, until Wesley and Whitfield sprangup to protest against formalism and atheism. They were pelted withrotten eggs, sticks, and stones. A Methodist preacher was whipped out ofGloucester. 

A hundred years ago, literature was at a very low ebb. The press was ina miserable state. William Whitehead was Poet Laureate! Who knows of himnow? Gibbon had not written his "Decline and Fall. " _Junius_ was thepopular writer. Political corruption was scarified in his letters. Theupper classes were coarse, drunken, and ill-mannered. Bribery andcorruption on the grossest scale were the principal means for gettinginto Parliament. Mr. Dowdeswell, M. P. For Worcestershire, said to theCommons, "You have turned out a member for impiety and obscenity. Whathalfdozen members of this House ever meet over a convivial bottle, thattheir discourse is entirely free from obscenity, impiety, or abuse ofGovernment?"

Though drunkenness is bad enough now, it was infinitely worse a hundredyears ago. The publican's signboards announced, "You may here get drunkfor a penny, dead-drunk for twopence, and have clean straw for nothing. "Drunkenness was considered a manly vice. To drink deep was the fashionof the day. Six-bottle men were common. Even drunken clergymen were notunknown. 

What were the popular amusements of the people a hundred years ago? Theyconsisted principally of man-fighting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, bullbaiting, badger-drawing, the pillory, public whipping, and publicexecutions. Mr. Wyndham vindicated the ruffianism of the Ring in hisplace in Parliament, and held it up as a school in which Englishmenlearnt pluck and "the manly art of self-defence. " Bull-baiting wasperhaps more brutal than prize-fighting, though Wyndham defended it as"calculated to stimulate the noble courage of Englishmen. " The bull wassecured to a stake in the market-place or the bull-ring (the name stillsurvives in many towns), and there the animal was baited by the rabbledogs of the neighbourhood. One can scarcely imagine the savageness ofthe sport--the animal mutilations, the imprecations of ruffians worsethan brutes, the ferociousness and drunkenness, the blasphemy andunspeakable horrors of the exhibition. The public mind of this dayabsolutely revolts at such brutality. Yet, less than a hundred yearsago--on the 24th of May, 1802, --a Bill for the abolition of bull-baitingwas lost in the House of Commons by sixty-four to fifty-one, --Mr. Wyndham contending that horse-racing and hunting were more cruel thanbull-baiting or prize-fighting!

The pillory was one of our time-honoured institutions fifty years ago, and men and women used to be placed there for offences, such as a wiselegislature would have endeavoured to conceal from public consideration. The horrid scenes which then took place, when men, women, and childrencollected in crowds to pelt the offenders with missiles, were sodisgusting, that they cannot be described. Not more seemly were thepublic whippings then administered to women in common with the coarsestmale offenders. The public abominations and obscenities of the "good oldtimes" would almost have disgraced the days of Nero. 

But bull-baiting, cock-fighting, and other ferocious amusements, havenow departed. Even the village stocks have rotted out. Drunkenness hasbecome disreputable. The "good old times" have departed, we hope neverto return. The labourer has now other resources beside the public-house. There are exhibitions and people's parks, steamboats and railways, reading-rooms and coffee-rooms, museums, gardens, and cheap concerts. Inplace of the disgusting old amusements, there has come a healthier, sounder life, greater enlightenment, more general sobriety, and ahumaner spirit. We have in a hundred years outgrown many of our savagetendencies. We are not less brave as a people, though less brutal. Weare quite as manly, though much less gross. Manners are more refined, yet as a people we have not lost our pluck, energy, and endurance. Werespect ourselves more, and as a nation we have become more respected. We now think with shame of the manners of a hundred years ago. 

The achievements of which England has most reason to be proud, have beenaccomplished during the last hundred years. English slaves have beenemancipated, both at home and abroad. Impressment has been done awaywith. Parliamentary representation has been conferred upon all classesof the people. The Corn Laws have been abolished. Free trade has beenestablished. Our ports are now open to the whole world. 

And then, see what our inventors have accomplished! James Watt inventedthe steam-engine, which in a few years created a large number of newindustries, and gave employment to immense numbers of people. Henry Cortinvented the puddling-process, and enabled England to rely upon its ownstores of iron, instead of depending upon foreign and perhaps hostilecountries. All the docks and harbours round the English coast have beenformed during the present century. The steamboat, the railway, and thetelegraph have only been invented and applied during the last fiftyyears. 

With respect to the charge made against the English workman as to the"sluriness, swiftness, and mendacity" of his work, it is simplyimpossible that this should be so. Our ports are free and open to theworld; and if Frenchmen, Germans, Belgians, or Americans could executebetter work than Englishmen, we should not only cease to export, butalso lose our home trade. The foreigner is now free to undersell us, ifhe can, in our own markets. 

It was in the perfect confidence that Englishmen were the best and mosthonest workers in the world, that free trade was established. Should weever become a shoddy manufacturing people, free trade will probably beabolished; and we shall then impose prohibitory duties upon foreignmanufactures. But is it not the fact that every year sees an increase inthe exports of English goods, --that English workmanship is notconsidered the worst, but the best, in the general markets of theworld, --and that numerous foreign makers place an English mark upontheir productions in order to ensure their sale?

It is by means of English workmen and English tools and machines thatcontinental manufactories themselves have been established; and yet, notwithstanding their cheaper labour, we should command the foreignmarket, but for the prohibitory duties which foreigners impose uponEnglish manufactures. Mr. Brassey, in his book on _Work and Wages_, says, "It may be affirmed that as practical mechanics the English areunsurpassed. The presence of the English engineer, the solitaryrepresentative, among a crew of foreigners, of the mechanical genius ofhis country, is a familiar recollection to all who have travelled muchin the steamers of the Mediterranean. Consul Lever says that in the vastestablishment of the Austrian Lloyds at Trieste, a number of Englishmechanical engineers are employed, not only in the workshops, but asnavigating engineers in the company's fleet. Although there is nodifficulty in substituting for these men Germans or Swiss, at lowerrates of payment, the uniform accuracy of the English, theirintelligence, their consummate mastery of all the details of their art, and their resources in every case of difficulty, have entirelyestablished their superiority. "[1]

[Footnote 1: _Work and Wages_, p. 114. ]

The English are also the best miners, the best tool-makers, the bestinstrument-makers, the best "navvies, " the best ship-builders, the bestspinners and weavers. Mr. Brassey says that during the construction ofthe Paris and Rouen Railway, the Frenchman, Irishman, and Englishmanwere employed side by side. In the same quarry at Bounierés, theFrenchman received three francs, the Irishman four, and the Englishmansix; and the last was found to be the most advantageous workman of thethree. The superiority of the English workman over persons of othernations was equally remarkable whenever there was an opportunity ofemploying him side by side with them. 

There is no doubt about the "swiftness" of English Workmanship. But thisis one of the merits of English mechanism. M. Jules Simon observes thatheretofore the manual labourer has been an intelligent force, but bymeans of machinery he is converted into an intelligent director offorce. It is by the speed of the English machinery, and the intelligentquickness of the workmen, that his master makes a profit, and himselfsuch high wages as compared with continental workmen. In France, oneperson is employed to mind fourteen spindles; in Russia, one totwenty-eight; in Prussia, one to thirty-seven; and in Great Britain, oneto seventy-four spindles. It is by means of the swiftness of ourmachinery that we are enabled to bring cotton from India, manufacture itin Manchester, return the manufactured article to the place from whichit was taken, and sell it at a lower price than the native-made calico. 

Mr. Chadwick mentions the following case. "A lady, the wife of aneminent cotton manufacturer, went to him one day rejoicing, with a finepiece of muslin, as the produce of India, which she had bought inLondon, and showing it to him, said, if he produced a fabric like that, he would really be doing something meritorious in textile art. Heexamined it, and found that it was the produce of his own looms, nearManchester, made for the Indian market exclusively, bought there, andre-sold in England as rare Indian manufacture!"[1]

[Footnote 1: _Address on Economy and Free Trade_. By Edwin Chadwick, C. B. , at the Association for the Promotion of Social Science at York, 1861. ]

An annual report is furnished to the Government, by our foreign consuls, with reference to the character and condition of the working classes inmost parts of the civilized world. Mr. Walter, M. P. , in a recent addressto an assembly of workmen, referred to one of these reports. He said, "There is one remark, in particular, that occurs with lamentablefrequency throughout the report, --that, with few exceptions, the foreignworkman does not appear 'to take pride in his work, ' nor (to use asignificant expression) to 'put his character into it. ' A remarkableinstance of this is mentioned of a country which generally constitutesan honourable exception to this unhappy rule. Switzerland is a countryfamous for its education and its watches; yet the following passage fromthe report will show that neither knowledge nor skill will sufficewithout the exercise of that higher quality on which I have beendwelling. 'As a rule, ' it says, 'Swiss workmen are competent in theirseveral trades, and take an interest in their work; for, thanks to theirsuperior education, they fully appreciate the pecuniary advantages totheir masters, and indirectly to themselves, of adhering strictly tothis course. A striking instance of the impolicy of acting otherwise haslately happened at St. Imier, in the Bernese Jura, and produced a deepimpression. In this district, for some years past, a great falling offin the quality of the watches manufactured has taken place, owing to theinhabitants finding it much more profitable to increase the productionat the cost of the workmanship than to abide by the old rules of thetrade. They prospered beyond all expectation for a considerable time, but finally their watches got such a bad name that they becameunsaleable, and the result is a general bankruptcy of nearly all thewatchmakers of this particular district. "

One thing, however, remains to be said of foreign workmen generally. Although they do not work so hard as the English, they take much bettercare of their earnings. They are exceedingly frugal and economical. Frenchmen are much soberer than Englishmen, and much better mannered. They are, on the whole, greatly more provident than English workmen. Mr. Brassey states that when the Paris and Rouen Railway works werecommenced, the contractors endeavoured to introduce a system by whichthe workmen were to be paid once a fortnight; but very soon after theoperations had begun, the Frenchmen requested that the pay might takeplace only once a month. 

Mr. Reid, managing director of the line, told the House of CommonsCommittee on Railway Labourers, that a French labourer is a much moreindependent person than an Englishman, and much more respectable. Hestated, in support of his opinion, this remarkable circumstance, thatwhereas a French labourer desired to be paid only once a month, theEnglish labourer desired to be paid every Saturday night, --and by thefollowing Wednesday he wanted something on account of the week's work. "Nothing could be a greater test, " said Mr. Reid, "of the respectabilityof a working man than being able to go without his pay for a month. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Thomas Brassey, M. P. , _On Work and Wages_. ]

Although the French workman has nothing like the same facilities forsaving as the English, the _Journal des Débats_ alleges that he savesten times as much as his rival. There are only about a thousand savingsbanks and branches established in France, and yet two millions ofpersons belonging to the lower ranks last year had invested in themabout twenty-eight millions sterling. But the Frenchman of the cityprefers investing in Government Rentes; and the Frenchman of the countryprefers investing in land. All, however, are thrifty, saving, andfrugal; because they are educated in economy from their earliest years. 

CHAPTER XII

LIVING BEYOND THE MEANS. 

"By no means run in debt: take thine own measure. Who cannot live on twenty pounds a year, Cannot on forty: he's a man of pleasure, A kind of thing that's for itself too dear. "--_George Herbert_. 

"But what will Mrs. Grundy say?"--_Old Play. _

"YES and No are, for good or evil, the Giants of Life. "--_Jerrold_. 

"A hundred years of vexation will not pay a farthing of debt. "--_Fromthe French_. 

"Respectability is all very well for folks who can have it for readymoney: but to be obliged to run into debt for it--it's enough to breakthe heart of an angel. "--_Jerrold. _

Extravagance is the pervading sin of modern society. It is not confinedto the rich and moneyed classes, but extends also to the middle andworking classes. 

There never was such a burning desire to be rich, or to _seem_ to berich. People are no longer satisfied with the earnings of honestindustry; but they must aim at becoming suddenly rich, --by speculation, gambling, betting, swindling, or cheating. 

General extravagance is to be seen everywhere. It is especially thecharacteristic of town life. You see it in the streets, in the parks, inthe churches. The extravagance of dress is only one of its signs. Thereis a general prodigality in social display. People live in a stylebeyond their means; and the results are observed in commercial failures, in lists of bankrupts, and in criminal courts, where business men are sooften convicted of dishonesty and fraud. 

Appearances must be kept up. Men must _seem_ to be rich. Hypocrites caneasily impose upon those who are willing to be convinced. People mustnow live in a certain style, inhabit handsome houses, give good dinners, drink fine wines, and have a handsome equipage. Perhaps they are onlyable to accomplish this by overreaching or by dishonesty. Everybodywondered at the generosity and style of Redpath and Robson; but thereare hundreds, if not thousands, of Redpaths and Robsons now. 

There is another class of people, not fraudulent, but extravagant;though perhaps on the brink of becoming fraudulent. They live up totheir means, and often beyond them. They desire to be considered"respectable people. " They live according to the pernicious adage, "Onemust do as others do. " They do not consider whether they can afford tolive up to or beyond their means; but they think it necessary to securethe "respect" of others. In doing so, they usually sacrifice their ownself-respect. They regard their dress, their establishments, theirmanner of living, and their observance of fashion, as the sole tests ofrespectability and rank. They make an appearance in the eyes of theworld; though it may be entirely hypocritical and false. 

But they must not _seem_ poor! They must hide their poverty by everyeffort. They spend their money before it is earned, --run into debt atthe grocer's, the baker's, the milliner's, and the butcher's. They mustentertain their fashionable "friends, " at the expense of theshopkeepers. And yet, when misfortunes overtake them, and when theirdebts have become overwhelming, what becomes of the "friends"? They flyaway, and shun the man who is up to his ears in debt!

Yet poverty is more than half disarmed by those who have the moralcourage to say. "I can't afford it. " Fair-weather friends are of no usewhatever, except as an indication of the depth of snobbery to whichhuman beings can descend. What is "a visiting connection"? It is not atall calculated to elevate one in social, or even in business life. Success mainly depends upon character, and the general esteem in which aperson is held. And if the attempt is made to snatch the reward ofsuccess before it is earned, the half-formed footing may at once giveway, and the aspirant will fall, unlamented, into the open-moutheddragon of debt. 

"Mrs. Grundy, " in the play, is but an impersonation of theconventionalism of the world. Custom, habit, fashion, use and wont, areall represented in her. She may be a very vulgar and commonplace person, but her power is nevertheless prodigious. We copy and imitate her in allthings. We are pinned to her apron-string. We are obedient at herbidding. We are indolent and complaisant, and fear to provoke herill-word. "What will Mrs. Grundy say?" quells many a noble impulse, hinders many a self-denying act. 

There seems to be a general, though unconscious conspiracy existing, against each other's individuality and manhood. We discourageself-reliance, and demand conformity. Each must see with others' eyes, and think through others' minds. We are idolaters of customs andobservances, looking behind, not forwards and upwards. Pinned down andheld back by ignorance and weakness, we are afraid of standing alone, orof thinking and acting for ourselves. Conventionalism rules all. We fearstepping out into the free air of independent thought and action. Werefuse to plant ourselves upon our instincts, and to vindicate ourspiritual freedom. We are content to bear others' fruit, not our own. 

In private affairs, the same spirit is alike deleterious. We live associety directs, each according to the standard of our class. We have asuperstitious reverence for custom. We dress, and eat, and live, inconformity with the Grundy law. So long as we do this, we are"respectable, " according to class notions. Thus many rush open-eyed uponmisery, for no better excuse than a foolish fear of "the world. " Theyare afraid of "what others will say of them;" and, in nine cases out often, those who might probably raise the voice of censure, are not thewise or the far-seeing, but much oftener the foolish, the vain, and theshort-sighted. 

Sir William Temple has said, that "a restlessness in men's minds to besomething that they are not, and to have something that they have not, is the root of all immorality. " The statement is strictly correct. Ithas been attested by universal experience. 

Keeping up appearances is one of the greatest social evils of the age. There is a general effort, more particularly amongst the middle andupper classes, at seeming to be something that they are not. They put onappearances, live a life of sham, and endeavour to look somethingsuperior to what they really are. 

"Respectability" is one of the chief aims. Respectability, regarded inits true sense, is a desirable thing. To be respected, on right grounds, is an object which every man and woman is justified in obtaining. Butmodern respectability consists of external appearances. It means wearingfine clothes, dwelling in fine houses, and living in fine style. Itlooks to the outside, --to sound, show, externals. It listens to thechink of gold in the pocket. Moral worth or goodness forms no part ofmodern respectability. A man in these days may be perfectly"respectable, " and yet altogether despicable. 

This false and demoralizing habit arises from the overweening estimatewhich is formed of two things, well enough in their place, --rank andwealth. Everybody struggles to rise into some superior class. The spiritof caste is found as keenly at work among the humblest as among thehighest ranks. At Birmingham, there was a club of workmen with tails totheir coats, and another without tails: the one looked down upon theother. Cobbett, so felicitous in his nicknames, called his politicalopponent, Mr. Sadler, "a linendraper. " But the linendraper also hasplenty of people beneath him. The linendraper looks down on thehuckster, the huckster on the mechanic, and the mechanic on the daylabourer. The flunkey who exhibits his calves behind a baron, holds hishead considerably higher than the flunkey who serves a brewer. 

It matters not at what class you begin, or however low in the socialscale, you will find that every man has somebody beneath him. Among themiddling ranks, this sort of exclusiveness is very marked. Each circlewould think it a degradation to mix on familiar terms with the membersof the circle beneath it. In small towns and villages, you will finddistinct coteries holding aloof from each other, perhaps despising eachother, and very often pelting each other with hard words. The cathedraltowns, generally, have at least six of such distinct classes, rankingone beneath the other. 

And while each has his or her own exclusive circle, which all ofsupposed inferior rank are precluded from entering, they are at the sametime struggling to pass over the line of social demarcation which hasbeen drawn by those above them. They are eager to overleap it, and thusgain admission into a circle still more exclusive than their own. 

There is also a desperate scramble for front places, and many are themean shifts employed to gain them. We must possess the homage ofsociety! And for this purpose we must be rich, or at least _seem_ to beso. Hence the struggles after style--the efforts made to put on theappearances of wealth--the dash, the glitter, and the show of middle andupper class life;--and hence, too, the motley train of palled andvitiated tastes--of shrunken hearts and stunted intellects--of folly, frivolity, and madness. 

One of the most demoralizing practices of modern refinement is the"large party" system. People cram their houses with respectable mobs;thus conforming to a ridiculous custom. Rousseau, with all hisaberrations of mind, said, "I had rather have my house too small for aday, than too large for a twelvemonth. " Fashion exactly reverses themaxim; and domestic mischief is often begun with a large dwelling andsuitable accommodations. The misfortune consists in this, --that we neverlook below our level for an example, but always above it. 

It is not so much, however, in the mere appearances kept up, as in themeans taken to keep them up, that the fruitful cause of immorality is tobe found. A man having assumed a class status, runs all risks to keep itup. It is thought to be a descent in the world, to abridge oneself of asuperfluity. The seeming-rich man, who drives his close carriage anddrinks champagne, will not tolerate a descent to a gig and plain beer;and the respectable man, who keeps his gig, would think it a degradationto have to travel afoot or in a 'bus, between his country house and histown office. They will descend to immorality rather than descend inapparent rank; they will yield to dishonesty rather than yield up themock applause and hollow respect of that big fool, "the world. "

Everybody can call to mind hundreds of cases of men--"respectablemen"--who, from one extravagance have gone on to another--wantonlysquandering wealth which was not theirs--in order to keep up a worldlyreputation, and cut a figure before their admiring fellows;--all endingin a sudden smash, a frightful downfall, an utter bankruptcy--to theruin, perhaps, of thousands. They have finished up with paying arespectable dividend of sixpence in the pound! Indeed it is not too muchto say, that five-sixths of the fraud and swindling that disgracecommercial transactions, have had their origin in the diseased moralityof "keeping up appearances. "

To be "respectable, " in the false sense of the word, --what is notsacrificed? Peace, honesty, truth, virtue, --all to keep up appearances. We must cheat, and scrub, and deceive, and defraud, that "the world" maynot see behind our mask! We must torment and enslave ourselves, becausewe must extort "the world's" applause, or at least obtain "the world's"good opinion!

How often is suicide traceable to this false sentiment! Vain men willgive up their lives, rather than their class notions of respectability. They will cut the thread of existence, rather than cut fashionable life. Very few suicides are committed from real want. "We never hear, " saysJoel Barlow, "of a man committing suicide for want of a loaf of bread, but it is often done for want of a coach. "

Of this mean and miserable spirit of class and caste, women are theespecial victims. They are generally brought up with false notions oflife, and are taught to estimate men and things rather by their externalappearances than by their intrinsic worth. Their education is conductedmainly with the view of pleasing and attracting the admiration ofothers, rather than of improving and developing their qualities of mindand heart. They are imbued with notions of exclusiveness, fashion, andgentility. A respectable position in society is held up to them as themark to be aimed at. To be criminal or vicious is virtually representedto them as far less horrible than to be "vulgar. " Immured within thebastile of exclusivism, woman is held captive to all the paltry shiftsand expediencies of convention, fashion, gentility, and so forth. Thegenuine benevolence of her nature is perverted; her heart becomescontracted; and the very highest sources of happiness--those whichconsist in a kindly sympathy with humanity in all ranks of life--are asa well shut up and a fountain sealed. 

Is it not a fact, that in what is called "fashionable society, " a fineoutside appearance is regarded almost in the light of a virtue?--that tobe rich, or to have the appearance of riches, is esteemed as a merit ofa high order;--whereas, to be poor, or to seem so, ranks as somethinglike an unpardonable offence? Nay, such is the heartlessness of thisclass spirit, that a young woman, belonging to the better class, who, bymisfortune or family reverses, has been thrown upon her own resources, and who endeavours, by her own honest hands, to earn her honest bread, immediately loses caste, and is virtually expelled from "respectable"society. The resolution to be independent--the most invigoratingresolution which can take possession of the human mind--is scouted insuch circles as a degrading thing; and those who have been brought upwithin the influence of fashion, will submit to the most severeprivations, rather than submit to the loss of their class and casterespectability!

Thus brought up, it is no wonder that woman has been the co-partner withman in upholding the general extravagance of the age. There never wassuch a rage for dress and finery amongst English women as there is now. It rivals the corrupt and debauched age of Louis XV. Of France. Adelirium of fashion exists. Women are ranked by what they wear, not bywhat they are. Extravagance of dress, and almost indecency of dress, hastaken the place of simple womanly beauty. Wordsworth once described the"perfect woman nobly planned. " Where will you find the perfect womannow? Not in the parti-coloured, over-dressed creature--the thing ofshreds and patches--with false hair, false colour, false eyebrows, false everything. "Some of nature's journeymen have made them, and notmade them well, they imitate humanity so abominably. "

The evil does not stop with the moneyed classes. It descends to thosewho have nothing but their salary to live upon. It descends to the wivesof clerks and shopmen. They, too, dress for respectability. They livebeyond their means. They must live in gimcrack suburban villas, and"give parties. " They must see what is going on at the theatres. Everyfarthing is spent so soon as earned, --sometimes before. The husband doesnot insure his life, and the wife runs into debt. If the man diedto-morrow, he would leave his wife and children paupers. The money heought to have saved during his life of toil, is spent on"respectability;" and if he leaves a few pounds behind him, they areusually spent in giving the thriftless husband a respectable funeral. 

"Is that dress paid for?" asked a husband. "No. " "Then you are allowingyourself to be clothed at another man's expense!" No woman is justifiedin running into debt for a dress, without her husband's knowledge andconsent. If she do so, she is clothing herself at the expense of thedraper. This is one of the things that worry a man who is trying to keephis head above water; and it is often sufficient to turn his heartagainst his wife and her extravagances. It is in this way that incomesare muddled away, and that life is rendered the scene of bitterness anddiscontent. This is especially the case when both husband and wife arealike spendthrifts. 

By running into debt yourself, or by your allowing your wife to run intodebt, you give another person power over your liberty. You cannotventure to look your creditor in the face. A double knock at the doorfrightens you: the postman may be delivering a lawyer's letter demandingthe amount you owe. You are unable to pay it, and make a sneakingexcuse. You invent some pretence for not paying. At length you aredriven to downright lying. For "lying rides on debt's back. "

What madness it is to run in debt for superfluities! We buy finearticles--finer than we can pay for. We are offered six months'--twelvemonths' credit! It is the shopkeeper's temptation; and we fall beforeit. We are too spiritless to live upon our own earnings; but mustmeanwhile live upon others'. The Romans regarded their servants as theirenemies. One might almost regard modern shopkeepers in the same light. By giving credit, by pressing women to buy fine clothes, they place thestrongest temptation before them. They inveigle the wives of men who aredisposed to be honest into debt, and afterwards send in untruthfulbills. They charge heavier prices, and their customers paythem, --sometimes doubly pay them; for it is impossible to keep a propercheck upon long-due accounts. 

Professor Newman's advice is worthy of being followed. "Heartily do Iwish, " he says, "that shop debts were pronounced after a certain dayirrecoverable at law. The effect would be that no one would be able toask credit at a shop except where he was well known, and for triflingsums. All prices would sink to the scale of cash prices. Thedishonourable system of fashionable debtors, who always pay too late, ifat all, and cast their deficiencies on other customers in the form ofincreased charges, would be at once annihilated. Shopkeepers would berid of a great deal of care, which ruins the happiness of thousands. "[1]

[Footnote 1: _Lectures on Political Economy_, p. 255. ]

A perfect knowledge of human nature is in the prayer, "Lead us not intotemptation. " No man and no woman ever resists temptation after it hasbegun to be temptation. It is in the outworks of the habits that thedefence must lie. The woman who hesitates to incur a debt which sheought not to incur, is lost. The clerk or apprentice who gloats over hismaster's gold, sooner or later appropriates it. He does so when he hasgot over the habitual feeling which made any approach to it animpossibility. Thus the habits which insinuate themselves into thethousand inconsiderable acts of life, constitute a very large part ofman's moral conduct. 

This running into debt is a great cause of dishonesty. It does notmatter what the debt is, whether it be for bets unsettled, for losses bycards, for milliners' or drapers' bills unpaid. Men who have been welleducated, well trained, and put in the way of earning money honestly, are often run away with by extravagances, by keeping up appearances, bybetting, by speculation and gambling, and by the society of thedissolute of both sexes. 

The writer of this book has had considerable experience of the manner inwhich young men have been led from the way of well-doing into that ofvice and criminality. On one occasion his name was forged by a clerk, toenable him to obtain a sum of money to pay the debts incurred by him ata public-house. The criminal was originally a young man of goodeducation, of reasonable ability, well-connected, and married to arespectable young lady. But all his relatives and friends wereforgotten--wife and child and all--in his love for drink andcard-playing. He was condemned, and sentenced to several years'imprisonment. 

In another case the defaulter was the son of a dissenting minister. Hestole some valuable documents, which he converted into money. Heescaped, and was tracked. He had given out that he was going toAustralia, by Southampton. The Peninsular and Oriental steamer wassearched, but no person answering to his description was discovered. Some time passed, when one of the Bank of England notes which he hadcarried away with him, was returned to the Bank from Dublin. A detectivewas put upon his track; he was found in the lowest company, brought backto London, tried, and sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. 

In another case, the criminal occupied a high position in a railwaycompany, --so high that he was promoted from it to be Manager of theRoyal Swedish Railway. He was one of the too numerous persons who areengaged in keeping up appearances, irrespective of honesty, morality, orvirtue. He got deeply into debt, as most of such people do; and then hebecame dishonest. He became the associate of professional thieves. Heabstracted a key from the office of which he was in charge, and handedit to a well-known thief. This was the key of the strong box in whichgold and silver were conveyed by railway from London to Paris. A cast ofthe key was taken in wax, and it was copied in iron. It was by means ofthis key that "The Great Gold Robbery" was effected. After some time thethieves were apprehended, and the person who had stolen the key--thekeeper-up of appearances, then Manager of the Royal Swedish Railway--wasapprehended, convicted, and sentenced by Baron Martin to Transportationfor Life. 

The Rev. John Davis, the late Chaplain of Newgate, published thefollowing among other accounts of the causes of crime among theconvicted young men who came under his notice:--

"I knew a youth, the child of an officer in the navy, who had served hiscountry with distinction, but whose premature death rendered his widowthankful To receive an official appointment for her delicate boy in aGovernment office. His income from the office was given faithfully tohis mother; and it was a pleasure and a pride to him to gladden herheart by the thought that he was helping her. She had otherchildren--two little girls, just rising from the cradle to womanhood. Her scanty pension and his salary made every one happy. But over thisyouth came a love of dress. He had not strength of mind to see how muchmore truly beautiful a pure mind is, than a finely decorated exterior. He took pleasure in helping his mother and sisters, but did not takegreater pleasure in thinking that to do this kindness to them he must becontented for a time to dress a little worse than his fellow-clerks; hisclothes might appear a little worn, but they were like the spot on thedress of a soldier arising from the discharge of duty; they were nomarks of undue carelessness; necessity had wrought them; and while theyindicated necessity, they marked also the path of honour, and withoutsuch spots duty must have been neglected. But this youth did not thinkof such great thoughts as these. He felt ashamed at his threadbare butclean coat. The smart, new-shining dress of other clerks mortifiedhim.... He wanted to appear finer. In an evil hour he ordered a suit ofclothes from a fashionable tailor. His situation and connectionsprocured him a short credit. But tradesmen must be paid, and he wasagain and again importuned to defray his debt. To relieve himself of hiscreditor he stole a letter containing a £10 note. His tailor was paid, but the injured party knew the number of the note. It was traced to thetailor, by him to the thief, with the means and opportunity of stealingit, and in a few days he was transported. His handsome dress wasexchanged for the dress of a convict. Better by far would it have beenfor him to have worn his poorer garb, with the marks of honest labourupon it. He formed only another example of the intense folly of love ofdress, which, exists quite as much amongst foolish young men as amongstfoolish young women. "

When Sir Charles Napier left India, he issued an order to the Army, inwhich he reproved the officers for contracting debts without theprospect of paying them. The Commander-in-Chief found that he wassubject to constant complaints against officers for non-payment ofdebts; and in some cases he found that the ruin of deserving andindustrious tradesmen had been consequent on that cause. This growingvice he severely reprimanded, as being derogatory to the character ofthe gentleman, as a degrading thing, as entitling those who practised itto "group with the infamous, with those who are cheats, and whosesociety is contamination. " He strongly urged them to stick to theirduties, to reprobate extravagance and expense of all sorts, and topractise rigid economy; for "to drink unpaid-for champagne andunpaid-for beer, and to ride unpaid-for horses, is to be a cheat and nota gentleman. "

The extravagance of these young "gentlemen" in India is, in too manyrespects, but a counterpart of the extravagance of our young "gentlemen"at home. The revelations of extravagances at Oxford and Cambridge pointto the school in which they have learnt their manners. Many worthyparents have been ruined by the sons whom they had sent thither to bemade scholars of; but who have learnt only to be "gentlemen" in thepopular acceptation of the word. To be a "gentleman" nowadays, is to bea gambler, a horse-racer, a card-player, a dancer, a hunter, a_roué_, --or all combined. The "gentleman" lives fast, spends fast, drinks fast, dies fast. The old style of gentleman has degenerated intoa "gent" and a "fast" man. "Gentleman" has become disreputable; and whenit is now employed, it oftener signifies an idle spendthrift, than anaccomplished, virtuous, laborious man. 

Young men are growing quite shameless about being in debt; and theimmorality extends throughout society. Tastes are becoming moreextravagant and luxurious, without the corresponding increase of meansto enable them to be gratified. But they are gratified, nevertheless;and debts are incurred, which afterwards weigh like a millstone roundthe neck. Extravagant habits, once formed and fostered, are verydifficult to give up. The existing recklessness of running into debtwithout the prospect, often without even the intention, of paying thedebt, saps the public morals, and spreads misery throughout the middleand upper classes of society. The tone of morality has sunk, and it willbe long before it is fairly recovered again. 

In the mean time, those who can, ought to set their faces against allexpenditure where there are not sufficient means to justify it. Thesafest plan is, to run up no bills, and never to get into debt; and thenext is, if one does get into debt, to get out of it again as quickly aspossible. A man in debt is not his own master: he is at the mercy of thetradesmen he employs. He is the butt of lawyers, the byword ofcreditors, the scandal of neighbours; he is a slave in his own house;his moral character becomes degraded and defiled; and even his ownhousehold and family regard him with pity akin to contempt. 

Montaigne said, "I always feel a pleasure in paying my debts, because Idischarge my shoulders of a wearisome load and of an image of slavery. "Johnson might well call Economy the mother of Liberty. No man can befree who is in debt. The inevitable effect of debt is not only to injurepersonal independence, but, in the long run, to inflict moraldegradation. The debtor is exposed to constant humiliations. Men ofhonourable principles must be disgusted by borrowing money from personsto whom they cannot pay it back;--disgusted with drinking wine, wearingclothes, and keeping up appearances, with other people's money. The Earlof Dorset, like many other young nobles, became involved in debt, andborrowed money upon his property. He was cured of his prodigality by theimpertinence of a city alderman, who haunted his antechamber for thepurpose of dunning him for his debt. From that day the Earl determinedto economize, to keep entirely out of everybody's debt, --and he kept hisword. 

Let every man have the fortitude to look his affairs in the face, --tokeep an account of his items of income and debts, no matter how long orblack the list may be. He must know how he stands from day to day, to beable to look the world fairly in the face. Let him also inform his wife, if he has one, how he stands with the world. If his wife be a prudentwoman, she will help him to economize his expenditure, and enable him tolive honourably and honestly. No good wife will ever consent to wearclothes and give dinners that belong not to her, but to her shopkeeper. 

The knowledge of arithmetic is absolutely necessary to those who wouldlive within their means. Women are especially ignorant of arithmetic;they are scarcely taught the simplest elements, for female teachersthink the information useless. They prefer to teach languages, music, deportment, the use of the globes. All these may be important, but thefirst four rules of arithmetic are better than all. How can they comparetheir expenditure with their receipts, without the knowledge of additionand subtraction? How can they know precisely what to spend in rent, orclothing, or food, or for service, unless they know the value offigures? How can they check the accounts of their tradesmen or theirservants? This want of knowledge of arithmetic is the cause, not only ofgreat waste, but of great misery. Many a family of good position hasfallen into destitution merely because of their ignorance of this branchof knowledge. 

Young people often rush into marriage without reflection. A young manmeets a pretty face in a ball-room, likes it, dances with it, flirtswith it, and goes home to dream about it. At length he falls in lovewith it, courts it, marries it, and then he takes the pretty face home, and begins to know something more about it. All has as yet been "veryjolly. " The face has hitherto been charming, graceful, artless, andbeautiful. It has now to enter upon another sphere of life. It has to beseen much closer; it has to be seen daily; and it has to beginhousekeeping. 

Most newly married people require some time to settle quietly downtogether. Even those whose married life has been the happiest, arrive atpeace and repose through a period of little struggles and bewilderments. The husband does not all at once find his place, nor the wife hers. Oneof the very happiest women we know has told us, that the first year ofher married life was the most uncomfortable of all. She had so much tolearn--was so fearful of doing wrong--and had not yet found her properposition. But, feeling their way, kind and loving natures will have nodifficulty in at last settling down comfortably and peacefully together. 

It was not so with the supposed young man and his pretty "face. " Bothentered upon their new life without thinking; or perhaps withexaggerated expectations of its unalloyed happiness. They could not makeallowances for lovers subsiding into husband and wife; nor were theyprepared for the little ruffles and frettings of individual temper; andboth felt disappointed. There was a relaxation of the little attentionswhich are so novel and charming to lovers. Then the pretty face, whenneglected, found relief in tears. 

There is nothing of which men tire sooner, especially when the tears areabout trifles. Tears do not in such cases cause sympathy, but breedrepulsion. They occasion sourness, both on the one side and the other. Tears are dangerous weapons to play with. Were women to try kindness andcheerfulness instead, how infinitely happier would they be. Many are thelives that are made miserable by an indulgence in fretting and carking, until the character is indelibly stamped, and the rational enjoyment oflife becomes next to a moral impossibility. 

Mental qualities are certainly admirable gifts in domestic life. Butthough they may dazzle and delight, they will not excite love andaffection to anything like the same extent as a warm and happy heart. They do not wear half so well, and do not please half so much. And yethow little pains are taken to cultivate the beautiful quality of goodtemper and happy disposition! And how often is life, which otherwisemight have been blessed, embittered and soured by the encouragement ofpeevish and fretful habits, so totally destructive of everything likesocial and domestic comfort! How often have we seen both men and womenset themselves round about as if with bristles, so that no one dared toapproach them without the fear of being pricked. For want of a littleoccasional command over one's temper, an amount of misery is occasionedin society which is positively frightful. Thus is enjoyment turned intobitterness, and life becomes like a journey barefooted, amongstprickles, and thorns, and briars. 

In the instance we have cited, the pretty face soon became forgotten. But as the young man had merely bargained for the "face"--as it was thatto which he had paid his attentions--that which he had vowed to love, honour, and protect. --when it ceased to be pretty, he began to find outthat he had made a mistake. And if the home be not made attractive, --ifthe newly married man finds that it is only an indifferentboarding-house, --he will gradually absent himself from it. He will stayout in the evenings, and console himself with cigars, cards, politics, the theatre, the drinking club; and the poor pretty face will thenbecome more and more disconsolate, hopeless, and miserable. 

Perhaps children grow up; but neither husband nor wife know much abouttraining them, or keeping them healthy. They are regarded as toys whenbabies, dolls when boys and girls, drudges when young men and women. There is scarcely a quiet, happy, hearty hour spent during the life ofsuch a luckless couple. Where there is no comfort at home, there is onlya succession of petty miseries to endure. Where there is nocheerfulness, --no disposition to accommodate, to oblige, to sympathizewith one another, --affection gradually subsides on both sides. 

It is said, that "When poverty comes in at the door, loves flies out atthe window. " But it is not from poor men's houses only that love flies. It flies quite as often from the homes of the rich, where there is awant of loving and cheerful hearts. This little home might have beensnug enough; with no appearance of want about it; rooms well furnished;cleanliness pervading it; the table well supplied; the fire burningbright; and yet without cheerfulness. There wanted the happy faces, radiant with contentment and good humour. Physical comfort, after all, forms but a small part of the blessings of a happy home. As in all otherconcerns of life, it is the moral state which determines the weal or woeof the human condition. 

Most young men think very little of what has to follow courtship andmarriage. They think little of the seriousness of the step. They forgetthat when the pledge has once been given, there is no turning back, Theknot cannot be untied. If a thoughtless mistake has been made, theinevitable results will nevertheless follow. The maxim is current, that"marriage is a lottery. " It may be so if we abjure the teachings ofprudence--if we refuse to examine, inquire, and think--if we are contentto choose a husband or a wife, with less reflection than we bestow uponthe hiring of a servant, whom we can discharge any day--if we merelyregard attractions of face, of form, or of purse, and give way totemporary impulse or to greedy avarice--then, in such cases, marriagedoes resemble a lottery, in which you _may_ draw a prize, though thereare a hundred chances to one that you will only draw a blank. 

But we deny that marriage has any necessary resemblance to a lottery. When girls are taught wisely how to love, and what qualities to esteemin a companion for life, instead of being left to gather their stock ofinformation on the subject from the fictitious and generally falsepersonations given to them in novels; and when young men accustomthemselves to think of the virtues, graces, and solid acquirementsrequisite in a wife, with whom they are to spend their days, and onwhose temper and good sense the whole happiness of their home is todepend, then it will be found that there is very little of the "lottery" in marriage; and that, like any concern of business or of life, theman or woman who judges and acts wisely, with proper foresight anddiscrimination, will reap the almost certain consequences in a happy andprosperous future. True, mistakes may be made, and will be made, as inall things human; but nothing like the grievous mistake of those whostake their happiness in the venture of a lottery. 

Another great point is, to be able to say No on proper occasions. Whenenticements allure, or temptations assail, say No at once, resolutelyand determinedly. "No; I can't" afford it. " Many have not the moralcourage to adopt this course. They consider only their selfishgratification. They are unable to practise self-denial. They yield, giveway, and "enjoy themselves. " The end is often defalcation, fraud, andruin. What is the verdict of society in such cases? "The man has beenliving beyond his means. " Of those who may have been entertained by him, not one of them will thank him, not one of them will pity him, not oneof them will help him. 

Every one has heard of the man who couldn't say No. He was everybody'sfriend but his own. His worst enemy was himself. He ran rapidly throughhis means, and then called upon his friends for bonds, bails, and"promises to pay. " After spending his last guinea, he died in the odourof harmless stupidity and folly. 

His course in life seemed to be directed by the maxim of doing foreverybody what everybody asked him to do. Whether it was that his heartbeat responsive to every other heart, or that he did not like to giveoffence, could never be ascertained; but certain it is, that he wasrarely asked to sign a requisition, to promise a vote, to lend money, orto endorse a bill, that he did not comply. He couldn't say "No;" andthere were many who knew him well, who said he had not the moral courageto do so. 

His father left him a snug little fortune, and he was at once beset bypersons wanting a share of it. Now was the time to say "No, " if hecould; but he couldn't. His habit of yielding had been formed; he didnot like to be bored; could not bear to refuse; could not standimportunity; and almost invariably yielded to the demands made upon hispurse. While his money lasted, he had no end of friends. He was auniversal referee--everybody's bondsman. "Just sign me this little bitof paper, " was a request often made to him by particular friends, "Whatis it?" he would mildly ask; for, with all his simplicity, he pridedhimself upon his caution! Yet he never refused. Three months after, abill for a rather heavy amount would fall due, and who should be calledupon to make it good but everybody's friend--the man who couldn't say"No. "

At last a maltster, for whom he was bondsman--a person with whom he hadonly a nodding acquaintance--suddenly came to a stand in his business, ruined by heavy speculations in funds and shares; when the man whocouldn't say "No" was called upon to make good the heavy duties due tothe Crown. It was a heavy stroke, and made him a poor man. But he nevergrew wise. He was a post against which every needy fellow came andrubbed himself; a tap, from which every thirsty soul could drink; aflitch, at which every hungry dog had a pull; an ass, on which everyneedy rogue must have his ride; a mill, that ground everybody's corn buthis own; in short, a "good-hearted fellow, " who couldn't for the life ofhim say "No. "

It is of great importance to a man's peace and well-being that he shouldbe able to say "No" at the right time. Many are ruined because theycannot or will not say it. Vice often gains a footing within us, becausewe will not summon up the courage to say "No. " We offer ourselves toooften as willing sacrifices to the fashion of the world, because we havenot the honesty to pronounce the little word. The duellist dares not say"No, " for he would be "cut. " The beauty hesitates to say it, when a richblockhead offers her his hand, because she has set her ambition on an"establishment. " The courtier will not say it, for he must smile andpromise to all. 

When pleasure tempts with its seductions, have the courage to say "No"at once. The little monitor within will approve the decision; and virtuewill become stronger by the act. When dissipation invites, and offersits secret pleasures, boldly say "No. " If you do not, if you acquiesceand succumb, virtue will have gone from you, and your self-reliance willhave received a fatal shock. The first time may require an effort; butstrength will grow with use. It is the only way of meeting temptationsto idleness, to self-indulgence, to folly, to bad custom, to meet it atonce with an indignant "No. " There is, indeed, great virtue in a "No, "when pronounced at the right time. 

A man may live beyond his means until he has nothing left. He may die indebt, and yet "society" does not quit its hold of him until he is laidin his grave. He must be buried as "society" is buried. He must have afashionable funeral. He must, to the last, bear witness to the power ofMrs. Grundy. It is to please her, that the funeral cloaks, hatbands, scarves, mourning coaches, gilded hearses, and processions of mutes arehired. And yet, how worthless and extravagant is the mummery of theundertaker's grief; and the feigned woe of the mutes, saulies, and plumebearers, who are paid for their day's parade!

It is not so much among the wealthy upper classes that the mischiefs ofthis useless and expensive mummery are felt, as amongst the middle andworking classes. An expensive funeral is held to be "respectable. "Middle-class people, who are struggling for front places in society, make an effort to rise into the region of mutes and nodding plumes; and, like their "betters, " they are victimised by the undertakers. These fixthe fashion for the rest; "we must do as Others do;" and most peoplesubmit to pay the tax. They array themselves, friends, and servants, inmourning; and a respectable funeral is thus purchased. 

The expenditure falls heavily upon a family, at a time when they are theleast able to bear it. The bread-winner has been taken away, andeverything is left to the undertaker. How is a wretched widow in themidst of her agony, or how are orphan children, deprived of theprotecting hand of a parent, to higgle with a tradesman about thecheapening of mourning suits, black gloves, weepers, and the othermiserable "trappings of woe"? It is at such a moment, when in thousandsof cases every pound and every shilling is of consequence to thesurvivors, that the little ready money they can scrape together islavished, without question, upon a vulgar and extravagant piece ofpageantry. Would not the means which have been thus foolishly expendedin paying an empty honour to the dead, be much better applied in beingused for the comfort and maintenance of the living?

The same evil propagates itself downwards in society. The workingclasses suffer equally with the middle classes, in proportion to theirmeans. The average cost of a tradesman's funeral in England is aboutfifty pounds; of a mechanic, or labourer, it ranges from five pounds toten pounds. In Scotland funeral expenses are considerably lower. Thedesire to secure respectable interment for departed relatives, is astrong and widely-diffused feeling among the labouring population; andit does them honour. They will subscribe for this purpose, when theywill for no other. The largest of the working-men's clubs are burialclubs. Ten pounds are usually allowed for the funeral of a husband, andfive pounds for the funeral of a wife. As much as fifteen, twenty, thirty, and even forty pounds, are occasionally expended on a mechanic'sfuneral, in cases where the deceased has been a member of several clubs, on which occasions the undertakers meet and "settle" between them theirseveral shares in the performance of the funeral. It is not unusual toinsure a child's life in four or five of these burial clubs; and we haveheard of a case where one man had insured payments in no fewer thannineteen different burial clubs in Manchester!

When the working-man, in whose family a death has occurred, does nothappen to be a member of a burial club, he is still governed by theirexample, and has to tax himself seriously to comply with the usages ofsociety, and give to his wife or child a respectable funeral. Where itis the father of the family himself who has died, the case is stillharder. Perhaps all the savings of his life are spent in providingmourning for his wife and children at his death. Such an expense, atsuch a time, is ruinous, and altogether unjustifiable. 

Does putting on garments of a certain colour constitute true mourning?Is it not the heart and the affections that mourn, rather than theoutside raiment? Bingham, in speaking of the primitive Christians, saysthat "they did not condemn the notion of going into a mourning habit forthe dead, nor yet much approve of it, but left it to all men's libertyas an indifferent thing, rather commending those that either omitted itwholly, or in short laid it aside again, as acting more according to thebravery and philosophy of a Christian. "

John Wesley directed, in his will, that six poor men should have twentyshillings each for carrying his body to the grave, --"For, " said he, "Iparticularly desire that there may be no hearse, no coach, noescutcheon, no pomp, except the tears of those that loved me, and arefollowing me to Abraham's bosom. I solemnly adjure my executors, in thename of God, punctually to observe this. "

It will be very difficult to alter the mourning customs of our time. Wemay anxiously desire to do so, but the usual question will occur--"Whatwill people say?" "What will the world say?" We involuntarily shrinkback, and play the coward like our neighbours. Still, common sense, repeatedly expressed, will have its influence; and, in course of time, it cannot fail to modify the fashions of society The last act of QueenAdelaide, by which she dispensed with the hired mummery of undertakers'grief, --and the equally characteristic request of Sir Robert Peel on hisdeathbed, that no ceremony, nor pomp, should attend his lastobsequies, --cannot fail to have their due effect upon the fashionableworld; and through them, the middle classes, who are so disposed toimitate them in all things, will in course of time benefit by theirexample. There is also, we believe, a growing disposition on the part ofthe people at large to avoid the unmeaning displays we refer to; and itonly needs the repeated and decided expression of public opinion, tosecure a large measure of beneficial reform in this direction. 

Societies have already been established in the United States, themembers of which undertake to disuse mourning themselves, and todiscountenance the use of it by others. It is only, perhaps, byassociation and the power of numbers that this reform is to beaccomplished; for individuals here and there could scarcely be expectedto make way against the deeply-rooted prejudices of the community atlarge. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

GREAT DEBTORS. 

"What would life be without arithmetic, but a scene of horrors? You aregoing to Boulogne, the city of debts, peopled by men who neverunderstood arithmetic. "--_Sydney Smith. _

"Quand on doit et qu'on ne paye pas, c'est comme si on ne devaitpas. "--_Araene Houssaye. _

"Of what a hideous progeny is debt the father! What lies, what meanness, what invasions on self-respect, what cares, what double-dealing! How indue season it will carve the frank, open face into wrinkles: how like aknife, it will stab the houeat heart. "--_Douglas Jerrold_. 

"The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, iscomposed of two distinct races, _the men who borrow and the men wholend_. To these two original diversities may be reduced all thoseimpertinent classifications of Gothic and Celtic tribes, white men, black men, red men, and such-like. "--_Charles Lamb_. 

People do not know what troubles they are brewing for themselves whenthey run into debt. It does not matter for what the debt is incurred. Ithangs like a millstone round a man's neck until he is relieved of it. Itpresses like a nightmare upon him. It hinders the well-being of hisfamily. It destroys the happiness of his household. 

Even those who are in the regular receipt of large incomes, feelcrippled, often for years, by the incubus of debt. Weighed down by this, what can a man do to save--to economise with a view to the future of hiswife and children? A man in debt is disabled from insuring his life, from insuring his house and goods, from putting money in the bank, frombuying a house or a freehold. All his surplus gains must go towards thepayment of his debt. 

Even men of enormous property, great lords with vast landed estates, often feel themselves oppressed and made miserable by loads of debt. They or their forefathers having contracted extravagant habits--a tastefor gambling, horseracing, or expensive living, --borrow money on theirestates, and the burden of debt remains. Not, perhaps, in the case ofstrictly entailed estates--for the aristocracy have contrived so thattheir debts shall be wiped out at their death, and they can thus gratifytheir spendthrift tastes at the expense of the public--the estates goingcomparatively unburdened to the entailed heir. But comparatively few arein the position of the privileged classes. In the case of the majority, the debts are inherited with the estates, and often the debts are morethan the estates are worth. Thus it happens that a large part of thelands of England are at this moment the property of mortgagees andmoney-lenders. 

The greatest men have been in debt. It has even been alleged thatgreatness and debt have a certain relation to each other. Great men havegreat debts; they are trusted. So have great nations; they arerespectable, and have credit. Spiritless men have no debts, neither havespiritless nations; nobody will trust them. Men as well as nations indebt secure a widely extended interest. Their names are written in manybooks; and many are the conjectures formed as to whether they willpay--or not. The man who has no debts slips through the worldcomparatively unnoticed; while he who is in everybody's books has alleyes fixed upon him. His health is enquired after with interest; and ifhe goes into foreign countries, his return is anxiously looked for. 

The creditor is usually depicted as a severe man, with a hard visage;while the debtor is an open-handed generous man, ready to help andentertain everybody. He is the object of general sympathy. WhenGoldsmith was dunned for his milk-score and arrested for the rent of hisapartments, who would think of pitying the milk-woman or the landlady?It is the man in debt who is the prominent feature of the piece, and allour sympathy is reserved for him. "What were you, " asked Pantagruel ofPanurge, "without your debts? God preserve me from ever being withoutthem! Do you think there is anything divine in lending or in creditingothers? No! To owe is the true heroic virtue!"

Yet, whatever may be said in praise of Debt, it has unquestionably avery seedy side. The man in debt is driven to resort to many sorryexpedients to live. He is the victim of duns and sheriff's officers. Fewcan treat them with the indifference that Sheridan did, who put theminto livery to wait upon his guests. The debtor starts and grows pale atevery knock at his door. His friends grow cool, and his relatives shunhim. He is ashamed to go abroad, and has no comfort at home. He becomescrabbed, morose, and querulous, losing all pleasure in life. He wantsthe passport to enjoyment and respect--money; he has only his debts, andthese make him suspected, despised, and snubbed. He lives in the sloughof despond. He feels degraded in others' eyes as well as in his own. Hemust submit to impertinent demands, which he can only put off by shamexcuses. He has ceased to be his own master, and has lost theindependent bearing of a man. He seeks to excite pity, and pleads fortime. A sharp attorney pounces on him, and suddenly he feels himself inthe vulture's gripe. He tries a friend or a relative, but all that heobtains is a civil leer, and a cool repulse. He tries a money-lender;and, if he succeeds, he is only out of the frying-pan into the fire. Itis easy to see what the end will be, --a life of mean shifts andexpedients, perhaps ending in the gaol or the workhouse. 

Can a man keep out of debt? Is there a possibility of avoiding the moraldegradation which accompanies it? Could not debt be dispensed withaltogether, and man's independence preserved secure? There is only oneway of doing this; by "living within the means. " Unhappily, this is toolittle the practice in modern times. We incur debt, trusting to thefuture for the opportunity of defraying it. We cannot resist thetemptation to spend money. One will have fine furniture and live in ahigh-rented house; another will have wines and a box at the opera; athird must give dinners and music-parties:--all good things in theirway, but not to be indulged in if they cannot be paid for. Is it not ashabby thing to pretend to give dinners, if the real parties who providethem are the butcher, the poulterer, and the wine-merchant, whom you arein debt to, and cannot pay?

A man has no business to live in a style which his income cannotsupport, or to mortgage his earnings of next week or of next year, inorder to live luxuriously to-day. The whole system of Debt, by means ofwhich we forestall and anticipate the future, is wrong. They are almostas much to blame who give credit, and encourage customers to takecredit, as those are who incur debts. A man knows what his actualposition is, if he pays his way as he goes. He can keep within hismeans, and so apportion his expenditure as to reserve a fund of savingsagainst a time of need. He is always balanced up; and if he buys nothingbut what he pays for in cash, he cannot fail to be on the credit side ofhis household accounts at the year's end. 

But once let him commence the practice of running up bills--one at thetailor's, another at the dressmaker's and milliner's, another at thebutcher's, another at the grocer's, and so on, --and he never knows howhe stands. He is deceived into debt; the road is made smooth andpleasant for him; things flow into the house, for which he does not seemto pay. But they are all set down against him; and at the year's end, when the bills come in, he is ready to lift up his hands in dismay. Thenhe finds that the sweet of the honey will not repay for the smart of thesting. 

It is the same as respects the poorer classes. Not many years since, Parliament passed a law facilitating the establishment of Small LoanSocieties, for the purpose of helping small tradesmen and poor peoplegenerally to raise money on an emergency. The law was at once pouncedupon by the numerous race of Graballs, as a means of putting money intheir purse. They gave the working classes facilities for running intodebt, and for mortgaging their future industry. A few men, desirous ofmaking money, would form themselves into a Loan Club, and offer sums ofmoney ostensibly at five per cent, interest, repayable in weeklyinstalments. The labouring people eagerly availed themselves of thefacility for getting into debt. One wanted money for a "spree, " anotherwanted money for a suit of clothes, a third for an eight-day clock, andso on; and instead of saving the money beforehand, they preferredgetting the money from the Club, keeping themselves in difficulties andpoverty until the debt was paid off. Such a practice is worse thanliving from hand to mouth: it is living upon one's own vitals. 

It is easy to understand how the partners in the Loan Club made money. Suppose that they advanced ten pounds for three months at five per cent. It is repayable in weekly instalments at ten shillings a week, --therepayments commencing the very first week after the advance has beenmade. But though ten shillings are repaid weekly until the debt is wipedoff, interest at five per cent, is charged upon the whole amount untilthe last instalment is paid off. So that, though the nominal interest isfive per cent. , it goes on increasing until, during the last week, itreaches the enormous rate of one hundred per cent. ! This is what iscalled "eating the calf in the cow's belly. "

Men of genius are equally facile in running into debt. Genius has nonecessary connection with prudence or self-restraint, nor does itexercise any influence over the common rules of arithmetic, which arerigid and inflexible. Men of genius are often superior to what Baconcalls "the wisdom of business. " Yet Bacon himself did not follow his ownadvice, but was ruined by his improvidence. He was in straits anddifficulties when a youth, and in still greater straits and difficultieswhen a man. His life was splendid; but his excessive expenditureinvolved him in debts which created a perpetual craving for money. Oneday, in passing out to his antechambers, where his followers waited forhis appearance, he said, "Be seated, my masters; your rise has been myfall. " To supply his wants, Bacon took bribes, and was thereupon besetby his enemies, convicted, degraded, and ruined. 

Even men with a special genius for finance on a grand scale, maycompletely break down in the management of their own private affairs. Pitt managed the national finances during a period of unexampleddifficulty, yet was himself always plunged in debt. Lord Carrington, theex-banker, once or twice, at Mr. Pitt's request, examined his householdaccounts, and found the quantity of butcher's meat charged in the billswas one hundredweight a week. The charge for servants' wages, boardwages, living, and household bills, exceeded £2, 300 a year. At Pitt'sdeath, the nation voted £40, 000 to satisfy the demands of his creditors;yet his income had never been less than £6, 000 a year; and at one time, with the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports, it was nearly £4, 000 a yearmore. Macaulay truly says that "the character of Pitt would have stoodhigher if, with the disinterestedness of Pericles and De Witt, he hadunited their dignified frugality. "

But Pitt by no means stood alone. Lord Melville was as unthrifty in themanagement of his own affairs, as he was of the money of the public. Foxwas an enormous ower, his financial maxim being that a man need neverwant money if he was willing to pay enough for it. Fox called the outerroom at Almack's, where he borrowed on occasions from Jew lenders atexorbitant premiums, his "Jerusalem Chamber. " Passion for play was hisgreat vice, and at a very early age it involved him in debt to anenormous amount. It is stated by Gibbon that on one occasion Fox satplaying at hazard for twenty hours in succession, losing £11, 000. Butdeep play was the vice of high life in those days, and cheating was notunknown. Selwyn, alluding to Fox's losses at play, called him Charlesthe Martyr. 

Sheridan was the hero of debt. He lived on it. Though he received largesums of money in one way or another, no one knew what became of it, forhe paid nobody. It seemed to melt away in his hands like snow in summer. He spent his first wife's fortune of £1, 600 in a six weeks' jaunt toBath. Necessity drove him to literature, and perhaps to the stimulus ofpoverty we owe "The Rivals, " and the dramas which succeeded it. With hissecond wife he obtained a fortune of £5, 000, and with £15, 000 which herealized by the sale of Drury Lane shares, he bought an estate inSurrey, from which he was driven by debt and duns. The remainder of hislife was a series of shifts, sometimes brilliant, but oftener degrading, to raise money and evade creditors. Taylor, of the Opera-house, used tosay that if he took off his hat to Sheridan in the street, it would costhim fifty pounds; but if he stopped to speak to him, it would cost ahundred. 

One of Sheridan's creditors came for his money on horseback. " That is anice mare, " said Sheridan. "Do you think so?" "Yes, indeed;--how doesshe trot?" The creditor, flattered, told him he should see, andimmediately put the mare at full trotting pace, on which Sheridan tookthe opportunity of trotting round the nearest corner. His duns wouldcome in numbers each morning, to catch him before he went out. They wereshown into the rooms on each side of the entrance hall. When Sheridanhad breakfasted, he would come down, and ask, "Are those doors all shut, John?" and on being assured that they were, he marched out deliberatelybetween them. 

He was in debt all round--to his milkman, his grocer, his baker, and hisbutcher. Sometimes Mrs. Sheridan would be kept waiting for an hour ormore while the servants were beating up the neighbourhood for coffee, butter, eggs, and rolls. While Sheridan was Paymaster of the Navy, abutcher one day brought a leg of mutton to the kitchen. The cook took itand clapped it in the pot to boil, and went upstairs for the money; butnot returning, the butcher coolly removed the pot lid, took out themutton, and walked away with it in his tray. [1] Yet, while living inthese straits, Sheridan, when invited with his son into the country, usually went in two chaises and four--he in one, and his son Tomfollowing in the other. 

[Footnote 1: Haydon--_Autobiography_, vol. Ii. , p. 104. ]

The end of all was very sad. For some weeks before his death he wasnearly destitute of the means of subsistence. His noble and royalfriends had entirely deserted him. Executions for debt were in hishouse, and he passed his last days in the custody of sheriffs' officers, who abstained from conveying him to prison merely because they wereassured that to remove him would cause his immediate death. [2]

[Footnote 2: _Memoirs of the Life of Sir S. Romilly, _ vol. Iii. , p. 262. ]

The Cardinal de Retz sold off everything to pay his debts, but he didnot recover his liberty. He described the perpetual anguish of thedebtor. He even preferred confinement in the Castle of Vincennes, tobeing exposed to the annoyances of his creditors. Mirabeau's life wasone of perpetual debt; for he was a dreadful spendthrift. The only modeby which his father could keep him out of scrapes, was by obtaining a_lettre de cachet, _ and having him-safely imprisoned. Though Mirabeauwielded the powers of the State, when he died he was so poor, or hadbeen so extravagant, that he was still indebted to the tailor for hiswedding suit. 

Lamartine ran through half-a-dozen fortunes, and at the end of his lifewas "sending round the hat. " Lamartine boldly proclaimed that he hatedarithmetic, "that negative of every noble thought. " He was accordinglydriven to very shabby shifts to live. The _Cours de Litterature_ alonebrought him in 200, 000 francs a year, yet 'the money ran through hishands like quicksilver. His debts are said to have amounted to threemillions of francs; yet his style of living remained unchanged. One ofhis enthusiastic admirers, having stinted himself in subscribing towardsthe repurchase of the Lamartine estates, went into a fishmonger's oneday to purchase a piece of turbot. It was too dear for his means. Adistinguished-looking personage entered, paused for a moment before theturbot, and without questioning the price, ordered the fish to be sentto his house. It was M. De Lamartine. 

Webster, the American statesman, was afflicted with impecuniosity, arising from his carelessness about money matters, as well as from hisextravagance. If we are to believe Theodore Parker, Webster, like Bacon, took bribes. "He contracted debts and did not settle, borrowed andyielded not again. Private money sometimes clove to his hands.... Asenator of the United States, he was pensioned by the manufacturers ofBoston. His later speeches smell of bribes. " Monroe and Jefferson werealways in want of money, and often in debt; though they were both honestmen. 

The life which public men lead nowadays, is often an incentive toexcessive expenditure. They may be men of moderate means; they may evenbe poor; but not many of them moving in general society have the moralcourage to _seem_ to be so. To maintain their social position, theythink it necessary to live as others do. They are thus drawn into thevortex of debt, and into all the troubles, annoyances, shabby shifts, and dishonesties, which debt involves. 

Men of science are for the most part exempt from the necessity ofshining in society; and hence they furnish but a small number ofinstances of illustrious debtors. Many of them have been poor, but theyhave usually lived within their means. Kepler's life was indeed astruggle with poverty and debt; arising principally from thecircumstance of his salary, as principal mathematician to the Emperor ofGermany, having been always in arrear. This drove him to castingnativities in order to earn a living. "I pass my time, " he once wrote, "in begging at the doors of crown treasurers. " At his death he left onlytwenty-two crowns, the dress he wore, two shirts, a few books, and manymanuscripts. Leibnitz left behind him a large amount of debt; but thismay have been caused by the fact that he was a politician as well as aphilosopher, and had frequent occasion to visit foreign courts, and tomix on equal terms with the society of the great. 

Spinoza was poor in means; yet inasmuch as what he earned by polishingglasses for the opticians was enough to supply his wants, he incurred nodebts. He refused a professorship, and refused a pension, preferring tolive and die independent. Dalton had a philosophical disregard formoney. When his fellow-townsmen at Manchester once proposed to providehim with an independence, that he might devote the rest of his life toscientific investigation, he declined the offer, saying that "teachingwas a kind of recreation to him, and that if richer he would probablynot spend more time in his investigations than he was accustomed to do. "Faraday's was another instance of moderate means and noble independence. Lagrange was accustomed to attribute his fame and happiness to thepoverty of his father, the astronomer royal of Turin. "Had I been rich, "he said, "probably I should not have become a mathematician. "

The greatest debtor connected with science was John Hunter, who expendedall his available means--and they were wholly earned by himself--inaccumulating the splendid collection now known as the Hunterian Museum. All that he could collect in fees went to purchase new objects forpreparation and dissection, or upon carpenters' and bricklayers' workfor the erection of his gallery. Though his family were left instraitened circumstances at his death, the sale of the collection to thenation for £15, 000 enabled all his debts to be paid, and at the sametime left an enduring monument to his fame. 

Great artists have nearly all struggled into celebrity through poverty, and some have never entirely emerged from it. This, however, has beenmainly because of their improvidence. Jan Steen was always in distress, arising principally from the habit he had acquired of drinking his ownbeer; for he was first a brewer, and afterwards a tavern-keeper. Hedrank and painted alternately, sometimes transferring the drinkingscenes of which he had been a witness to the canvas, even while himselfin a state of intoxication. He died in debt, after which his picturesrose in value, until now they are worth their weight in gold. 

Notwithstanding the large income of Vandyck, his style of living was sosplendid and costly as to involve him in heavy debt. To repair hisfortunes, he studied alchemy for a time, in the hope of discovering thephilosopher's stone. But towards the end of his life he was enabled toretrieve his position, and to leave a comfortable competency to hiswidow. Rembrandt, on the other hand, involved himself in debt throughhis love of art. He was an insatiable collector of drawings, armour, andarticles of _vertu_, and thus became involved in such difficulties thathe was declared a bankrupt. His property remained under legal controlfor thirteen years, until his death. 

The great Italian artists were for the most part temperate and moderatemen, and lived within their means. Haydon, in his Autobiography, says, "Rafaelle, Michael Angelo, Zeuxis, Apelles, Rubens, Reynolds, Titian, were rich and happy. Why? Because with their genius they combinedpractical prudence. " Haydon himself was an instance of the contrarypractice. His life was a prolonged struggle with difficulty and debt. Hewas no sooner free from one obligation, than he was involved in another. His "Mock Election" was painted in the King's Bench prison, while he laythere for debt. There is a strange entry in his Journal: "I borrowed £10to-day of my butterman, Webb, an old pupil of mine, recommended to me bySir George Beaumont twenty-four years ago, but who wisely, after drawinghands, set up _a butter shop_, and was enabled to send his old master£10 in his necessity. " Haydon's Autobiography is full of his contestswith lawyers and sheriffs' officers. Creditors dogged and dunned him atevery step. "Lazarus's head, " he writes, "was painted just after anarrest; Eucles was finished from a man in possession; the beautiful facein Xenophon in the afternoon, after a morning spent in begging mercy oflawyers; and Cassandra's head was finished in agony not to be described, and her hand completed after a broker's man in possession, in anexecution put in for taxes. "[1]

[Footnote 1: Haydon--_Autobiography_, vol. Ii. , p. 400. ]

Cowper used to say that he never knew a poet who was not thriftless; andhe included himself. Notwithstanding his quiet, retired life, he wasconstantly outrunning the constable. "By the help of good management, "he once wrote, "and a clear notion of economical matters, I contrived inthree months to spend the income of a twelvemonth. " But though thenumber of thriftless poets may be great, it must not be forgotten thatShakespeare, who stands at the head of the list, was a prudent man. Heeconomized his means, and left his family in comfort. His contemporarieswere, however, for the most part indebted men. Ben Jonson was oftenembarrassed, and always poor, borrowing twenty shillings at a time fromHenslowe; though he rarely denied himself another jolly night at the"Mermaid. " Massinger was often so reduced in circumstances as not to beable to pay his score at the same tavern. 

Greene, Peele, and Marlowe lived lives of dissipation, and died inpoverty. Marlowe was killed in a drunken brawl. When Greene was on hisdeathbed, dying of the disease which his excesses had caused, he washaunted by the debt of ten pounds which he owed to the shoemaker who hadlodged him. He then warned his friend Peele to amend his ways; butPeele, like him, died in distress and debt, one of the last letters hewrote being an imploring letter to Burleigh asking for relief, --"Longsickness, " said he, "having so enfeebled me as maketh bashfulness almostimpudency. " Spenser died forsaken, and in want. Ben Jonson says of himthat "he died for lack of bread in King Street, and refused twenty broadpieces sent to him by my lord of Essex, " adding, "he was sorrie he hadno time to spend them. "

Of later poets and literary men, Milton died in obscurity, though not indebt. Lovelace died in a cellar. Butler, the author of "Hudibras, " diedof starvation in Rose Alley, the same place in which Dryden was beatenby hired ruffians. Otway was hunted by bailiffs to his last hiding-placeon Tower Hill. His last act was to beg a shilling of a gentleman, whogave him a guinea; and buying a loaf to appease his hunger, he choked atthe first mouthful. Wycherley lay seven years in gaol for debt, butlived to die in his bed at nearly eighty. Fielding's extravagance anddissipation in early life involved him in difficulties which he neverentirely shook off, and his death was embittered by the poverty in whichhe left his widow and child in a foreign land. 

Savage had a pension of fifty pounds a year, which he usually spent in afew days. It was then fashionable to wear scarlet cloaks trimmed withgold lace; and Johnson one day met him, just after he had got hispension, with one of these cloaks upon his back, while, at the sametime, his naked toes were sticking through his shoes. After living alife of recklessness and dissipation, he died in prison, where he hadlain six months for debt. In concluding his "Life of Savage, " Johnsonsays: "This relation will not be wholly without its use, if those who, in confidence of superior capacities or attainments, disregard thecommon maxims of life, shall be reminded that nothing will supply thewant of prudence, and that negligence and irregularity, long continued, will make knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible. "

Sterne died poor, if he did not die insolvent. At his death, asubscription was got up for the support of his wife and daughter. Churchill was imprisoned for debt, occasioned by his dissoluteness andextravagance, --Cowper characterizing him as "spendthrift alike of moneyand of wit. " Chatterton, reduced to a state of starvation and despair, poisoned himself in his eighteenth year. Sir Richard Steele was rarelyout of debt. In many respects he resembled Sheridan in temperament andcharacter. He was full of speculation, and was always on the point ofsome grand stroke of luck, which was to make his fortune. He wasperpetually haunted by duns and bailiffs; yet he did not stint himselfof luxuries so long as he obtained credit. When appointed to the officeof Commissioner of Stamps, with a moderate income, he set up a carriagewith two and sometimes four horses; and he maintained two houses, one inLondon, the other at Hampton. His means being altogether inadequate tothis style of living, he soon became drowned in greater debt thanbefore. He was repeatedly impounded by lawyers, and locked up insponging-houses. Executions were put into his houses; his furniture wassold off; his wife wanted the commonest necessaries of life; and stillthe pleasure-loving Steele maintained his equanimity and good temper. Something great was always on the point of turning up in his favour. Oneof his grandest schemes was that for bringing fish alive to the Londonmarket; "and then, " said he to his wife, "you will be better providedfor than any lady in England. " But the good turn never came to SirRichard; and he died out at elbows on his wife's little property inWales. 

Goldsmith was another of the happy-go-lucky debtors. He swam in debt. Hewas no sooner out of it, than he was plunged into it again, deeper thanbefore. The first money he earned as a tutor--it was all the money hehad--was spent in buying a horse. His relations raised £50, and sent himto the Temple to study law, but he got no farther than Dublin, where hespent or gambled away all the money. Then he went to Edinburgh to studymedicine, and was forced to fly from it, having become surety for afriend. He started on the tour of Europe without any money in hispocket--with nothing but his flute; and he begged and played, until hecame back to England, as poor as he went. He himself used afterwards tosay that there was hardly a kingdom in Europe in which he was not adebtor. [1]

[Footnote 1: FORSTER--_Life of Goldsmith_, ed. 1863, p. 41. ]

Even when Goldsmith began to earn money freely, he was still in debt. Hegave away with one hand what he earned with the other. He was dunned forhis milk-score, arrested for rent, threatened by lawyers, but neverlearnt the wisdom of economy. In the same month in which the secondedition of his "Vicar of Wakefield" was published, his bill of fifteenguineas, drawn on Newbery, was returned dishonoured. When he wasfiguring at Boswell's dinner in Old Bond Street in the "ratteen suitlined with satin, and bloom-coloured silk breeches, " the clothesbelonged to his tailor, and remained unpaid till his death. 

Prosperity increased his difficulties rather than diminished them; themore money he had, the more thoughtless and lavish was his expenditure. He could refuse no indulgence, either to himself or others. He wouldborrow a guinea and give it to a beggar. He would give the clothes offhis back, and the blankets off his bed. He could refuse nobody. To meethis thoughtless expenditure, he raised money by promising to write bookswhich he never began. He was perpetually discounting to-morrow, andmortgaging an estate already overburthened. Thus he died, as he hadbegun, poor, embarrassed, and in debt. At his death he owed over twothousand pounds: "Was ever poet, " says Johnson, "so trusted before?"

The case of Goldsmith and others has been cited as instances of theharsh treatment of genius by the world, and in proof of the socialdisabilities of literary men and artists. It has been held that societyshould be more indulgent to its men of genius, and that Governmentshould do something more for them than it now does. But nothing thatsociety or Government could do for men of genius would be likely toprove of any service to them, unless they will do what other and lessgifted men do, --exhibit self-respect and practise ordinary economy. Wemay pity poor Goldsmith, but we cannot fail to see that he wasthroughout his own enemy. His gains were large, amounting to about£8, 000 in fourteen years; representing a much larger sum of money at thepresent day. For his "History of the Earth and Animated Nature" hereceived £850, --and the book was, at best, but a clever compilation. Johnson said of him that "if he can tell a horse from a cow, that is theextent of his knowledge of zoology. " The representation of his"Good-natured Man" produced him £500. And so on with his other works. Hewas as successful as Johnson was; but then he had not Johnson'ssobriety, self-restraint, and self-respect. 

Yet Goldsmith, in his thoughtful moments, knew the right path, though hehad not the courage to pursue it. In a letter to his brother Henryrespecting the career of his son, Goldsmith wrote: "Teach, my dear sir, to your son, thrift and economy. Let his poor wandering uncle's examplebe placed before his eyes. I had learned from books to be disinterestedand generous before I was taught from experience the necessity of beingprudent. I had contracted the habits and notions of a philosopher, whileI was exposing myself to the insidious approaches of cunning; and oftenby being, even with my narrow finances, charitable to excess, I forgotthe rules of justice, and placed myself in the very situation of thewretch who thanked me for my bounty. "

Byron had scarcely reached manhood when he became involved in debt. Writing to Mr. Becher, in his twentieth year, he said, "_Entre nous_, Iam cursedly dipped; my debts, everything inclusive, will be nine or tenthousand before I am twenty-one. " On his coming of age, the festivitiesat Newstead were celebrated by means supplied by money-lenders atenormously usurious rates of interest. His difficulties did notdiminish, but only increased with time. It is said that his mother'sdeath was occasioned by a fit of rage, brought on by reading theupholsterer's bills. [1] When the first canto of "Childe Harold" waspublished, Byron presented the copyright to Mr. Dallas, declaring thathe would never receive money for his writings, --a resolution which heafterwards wisely abandoned. But his earnings by literature at that timecould not have lightened the heavy load of debt under which hestaggered. Newstead was sold, and still the load accumulated. Then hemarried, probably in the expectation that his wife's fortune wouldrelease him; but her money was locked up, and the step, instead ofrelieving him, brought only an accession of misery. Every one knows thesad result of the union; which was aggravated by the increasing assaultsof duns and sheriffs' officers. 

[Footnote 1: MOORE--_Life of Byron_, ed. 1860. P. 127. ]

Byron was almost driven to sell the copyright of his books, but he wasprevented from doing so by his publisher, who pressed upon him a sum ofmoney to meet his temporary wants. During the first year of hismarriage, his house was nine times in the possession of bailiffs, hisdoor was almost daily beset by duns, and he was only saved from gaol bythe privileges of his rank. All this, to a sensitive nature such as his, must have been gall and bitterness; while his wife's separation fromhim, which shortly followed, could not fail to push him almost to thepoint of frenzy. Although he had declined to receive money for his firstpoems, Byron altered his views, and even learnt to drive a pretty hardbargain with his publisher. [1] But Moore does not, in his biography ofthe poet, inform us whether he ever got rid, except by death, of hisgrievous turmoil of debt. 

[Footnote 1: "You offer 1, 500 guineas for the new Canto [the fourth of'Childe Harold']: I won't take it. I ask two thousand five hundredguineas for it, which you will either give or not as you thinkproper.... If Mr. Eustace was to have two thousand for a poem onEducation; if Mr. Moore is to have three thousand for Lalla; if Mr. Campbell is to have three thousand for his prose or poetry. --I don'tmean to disparage these gentlemen or their labours. --but I ask theaforesaid price for mine. "--_Lord Byron to Mr. Murray_, Sept. 4th, 1817. ]

There is the greatest difference in the manner in which men bear theburden of debt. Some feel it to be no burden at all; others bear it verylightly; whilst others look upon creditors in the light of persecutors, and themselves in the light of martyrs. But where the moral sense is alittle more keen, --where men use the goods of others, without renderingthe due equivalent of money--where they wear unpaid clothes, eat unpaidmeat, drink unpaid wines, and entertain guests at the expense of thebutcher, grocer, wine-merchant, and greengrocer, --they must necessarilyfeel that their conduct is of the essence, not only of shabbiness, butof dishonesty, and the burden must then bear very heavily indeed. 

Of light-hearted debtors, the proportion is considerable. ThusTheophilus Cibber, when drowned in debt, begged the loan of a guinea, and spent it on a dish of ortolans. Thus Foote when his mother wrote tohim--"Dear Sam, I am in prison for debt--come and help your lovingmother, "--replied, "Dear Mother, so am I, which prevents his duty beingpaid to his loving mother by her affectionate son. " Steele and Sheridanboth bore the load lightly. When entertaining company, they put thebailiffs who were in possession in livery, and made them wait at table, passing them off as servants. Nothing disturbed Steele's equanimity; andwhen driven from London by debt, he carried his generosity into thecountry, giving prizes to the lads and lasses assembled at rural gamesand country dances. Sheridan also made very light of his debts, and hadmany a good joke over them. Some one asked him how it was that the O'was not prefixed to his name, when he replied that he was sure no familyhad a better right to it, "for in truth, we _owe_ everybody. " And when acreditor once apologized for the soiled and tattered state of a bill, which had been much worn by being so often presented, Sheridan advisedhim "as a friend, to take it home and write it _upon parchment_. "

Very different was it in the case of poor Burns, who was almost drivendistracted because he owed a debt of £7 4_s_. For a volunteer's uniform, which he could not pay. He sent to his friend Thomson, the publisher ofhis songs, imploring the loan of £5, promising full value in"song-genius. "[1] His last poem was a "love song, " in part payment ofthe loan, which he composed only a few days before his death. 

[Footnote 1: "After all my boasted independence, " he said, "curstnecessity compels me to implore you for five pounds. A cruel scoundrelof a haberdasher, to whom I owe an account, taking it into his head thatI am dying, has commenced a process, and will infallibly put me in jail. Do, for God's sake, send me that sum, and by return of post. Forgive methis earnestness; but the horrors of a jail have made me halfdistracted. I do not ask all this gratuitously: for upon returninghealth I promise and engage to furnish you with five pounds' worth ofthe neatest song-genius you have seen. "--_Burns to Thomson_. 12th July, 1796. Burns died on the 21st of the same month. ]

Sydney Smith had a severe struggle with poverty in the early part of hislife. He had a poor living, a wide parish, and a large family. Hisdaughter says that his debts occasioned him many sleepless nights, andthat she has seen him in an evening, when bill after bill has poured in(carefully examining them, and gradually paying them off), quiteovercome by the feeling of the debt hanging over him, cover his facewith his hands, and exclaim, "Ah! I see I shall end my old age in agaol. "[1] But he bore up bravely under the burden, labouring onward witha cheerful heart, eking out his slender means by writing articles forthe _Edinburgh_, until at length promotion reached him, and he reapedthe reward of his perseverance, his industry, and his independence. 

[Footnote 1: LADY HOLLAND--_Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith_, vol. I, p. 206. ]

De Foe's life was a long battle with difficulty and debt. He wasconstantly involved in broils, mostly of his own stirring up. He was afierce pamphleteer from his youth up; and was never for a moment atrest, He was by turns a soldier with the Duke of Monmouth, a pantilemaker, a projector, a poet, a political agent, a novelist, an essayist, a historian. He was familiar with the pillory, and spent much of histime in gaol. When reproached by one of his adversaries withmercenariness, he piteously declared how he had, "in the pursuit ofpeace, brought himself into innumerable broils;" how he had been "suedfor other men's debts, and stripped naked by public opinion, of whatshould have enabled him to pay his own;" how, "with a numerous family, and with no helps but his own industry, he had forced his way, withundiscouraged diligence, through a sea of debt and misfortune, " and "ingaols, in retreats, and in all manner of extremities, supported himselfwithout the assistance of friends and relations. " Surely, there neverwas such a life of struggle and of difficulty as that of theindefatigable De Foe. Yet all his literary labours, and they wereenormous, did not suffice to keep him clear of debt, for it is believedthat he died insolvent. [2]

[Footnote 2: George Chalmers--_Life of De Foe, _ p. 92. ]

Southey was, in his own line, almost as laborious a writer as De Foe;though his was the closet life of the student, and not the aggressivelife of the polemic. Though he knew debt, it never became his master;and from an early period in his career, he determined not to contract adebt that he was not able to discharge. He was not only enabled to dothis, but to help his friends liberally--maintaining for a time thefamilies of his brothers-in-law, Coleridge and Lovell--by simply notallowing himself any indulgences beyond his actual means, though thesewere often very straitened. The burthen he carried would have borne downa man less brave and resolute; but he worked, and studied, and wrote, and earned money enough for all his own wants, as well as the wants ofthose who had become dependent upon him. He held on his noble waywithout a murmur or complaint. He not only liberally helped hisrelatives, but his old schoolfellows, in distress. He took Coleridge'swife and family to live with him, at a time when Coleridge had abandonedhimself to opium-drinking. To meet the numerous claims upon him, Southeymerely imposed upon himself so much extra labour. He was always readywith good advice to young men who sought his help. Thus he encouragedKirke White, Herbert Knowles, and Dusantoy, all of whom died young andfull of promise. He not only helped them with advice and encouragement, but with money; and his timely assistance rescued the sister ofChatterton from absolute want. And thus he worked on nobly andunselfishly to the last--finding happiness and joy in the pursuit ofletters--"not so learned as poor, not so poor as proud, not so proud ashappy. " These were his own words. 

The most touching story in Sir Walter Scott's life, is the manner inwhich he conducted himself after the failure of the publishing house ofConstable and Co. , with which he had become deeply involved. He hadbuilt Abbotsford, become a laird, was sheriff of his county, and thoughthimself a rich man; when suddenly the Constable firm broke down, and hefound himself indebted to the world more than a hundred thousand pounds. "It is very hard, " he said, when the untoward news reached him, "thus tolose all the labour of a lifetime, and to be made a poor man at last. But if God grant me health and strength for a few years longer, I haveno doubt that I shall redeem it all. " Everybody thought him a ruinedman, and he almost felt himself to be so. But his courage never gaveway. When his creditors proposed to him a composition, his sense ofhonour forbade his listening to them. "No, gentlemen, " he replied; "Timeand I against any two. " Though the debts had been contracted by others, he had made himself legally responsible for them; and, strong in hisprinciple of integrity, he determined, if he could, to pay them off tothe last farthing. And he set himself to do it: but it cost him hislife. 

He parted with his town house and furniture, delivered over his personaleffects to be held in trust for his creditors, and bound himself todischarge a certain amount of his liabilities annually. This he did byundertaking new literary works, some of them of great magnitude, theexecution of which, though they enabled him to discharge a large portionof his debt, added but little to his reputation. One of his first taskswas his "Life of Napoleon Buonaparte, " in nine volumes, which he wrote, in the midst of pain, sorrow, and ruin, in about thirteenmonths, --receiving for it about fourteen thousand pounds. Even thoughstruck by paralysis, he went on writing until in about four years he haddischarged about two-thirds of the debt for which he wasresponsible, --an achievement probably unparalleled in the history ofletters. 

The sacrifices and efforts which he made during the last few years ofhis life, even while paralyzed and scarcely able to hold his pen, exhibit Scott in a truly heroic light. He bore up with unconquerablespirit to the last. When his doctor expostulated with him against hisexcessive brain-work, he replied, "If I were to be idle, I should gomad: in comparison to this, death is no risk to shrink from. " Shortlybefore his last fatal attack, when sitting dozing in his chair on thegrass in front of the house at Abbotsford, he suddenly roused himself, threw off the plaids which covered him, and exclaimed, "This is sadidleness. Take me to my own room, and fetch the keys of my desk. " Theywheeled him into his study, and put pens and paper before him. But hecould not grasp the pen; he could not write; and the tears rolled downhis cheeks. His spirit was not conquered, but his bodily powers wereexhausted and shattered; and when at length he died, he fellasleep--like a child. 

Scott felt, what every sensitive nature must feel, that poverty is amuch lighter burden to bear than debt. There is nothing ignominiousabout poverty. It may even serve as a healthy stimulus to great spirits. "Under gold mountains and thrones, " said Jean Paul, "lie buried manyspiritual giants. " Richter even held that poverty was to be welcomed, sothat it came not too late in life. And doubtless Scott's burden was allthe heavier to bear, because it came upon him in his declining years. 

Shakespeare was originally a poor man: "It is a question, " says Carlyle, "whether, had not want, discomfort, and distress warrants been busy atStratford-on-Avon, Shakespeare had not lived killing calves or combingwool! "To Milton's and Dryden's narrow means we probably owe the bestpart of their works. 

Johnson was a very poor man, and a very brave one. He never knew whatwealth was. His mind was always greater than his fortune; and it is themind that makes the man rich or poor, happy or miserable. Johnson'sgruff and bluff exterior covered a manly and noble nature. He had earlyknown poverty and debt, and wished himself clear of both. When atcollege, his feet appeared through his shoes, but he was too poor to buynew ones. His head was full of learning, but his pockets were empty. Howhe struggled through distress and difficulty during his first years inLondon the reader can learn from his "Life. " He bedded and boarded forfourpence-halfpenny a day, and when too poor to pay for a bed, hewandered with Savage whole nights in the streets. [1] He struggled onmanfully, never whining at his lot, but trying to make the best of it. 

[Footnote 1: "He said a man might live in a garret at eighteen-pence aweek; few people would inquire where he lodged; and if they did, it waseasy to say, 'Sir, I am to be found at such a place. ' By spendingthreepence in a coffee house, he might be for some hours every day invery good company; he might dine for sixpence, breakfast on bread andmilk for a penny, and do without supper. On _clean-shirt day_ he wentabroad and paid visits. " BOSWELL--_Life of Johnson_. ]

These early sorrows and struggles of Johnson left their scars upon hisnature; but they also enlarged and enriched his experience, as well aswidened his range of human sympathy. Even when in his greatest distresshe had room in his heart for others whose necessities were greater thanhis own; and he was never wanting in his help to those who needed it, orwere poorer than himself. 

From his sad experience, no one could speak with greater authority onthe subject of debt than Johnson. "Do not accustom yourself, " he wroteto Boswell, "to consider debt only an inconvenience; you will find it acalamity. Let it be your first care not to be in any man's debt. Whatever you have, spend less. Frugality is not only the basis of quiet, but of beneficence. " To Simpson, the barrister, he wrote, "Small debtsare like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and can scarcelybe escaped without a wound: great debts are like cannon, of loud noise, but little danger. You must therefore be enabled to discharge pettydebts, that you may have leisure, with security to struggle with therest. " "Sir, " said he to the patient and receptive Boswell, "get as muchpeace of mind as you can, and keep within your income, and you won't gofar wrong. "

Men who live by their wits, their talents, or their genius, have, somehow or other, acquired the character of being improvident. CharlesNodier, writing about a distinguished genius, said of him--"In the lifeof intelligence and art, he was an angel; in the common practical lifeof every day, he was a child. " The same might be said of many greatwriters and artists. The greatest of them have been so devoted--heartand soul--to their special work, that they have not cared to think howthe efforts of their genius might be converted into pounds, shillings, and pence. Had they placed the money consideration first, probably theworld would not have inherited the products of their genius. Miltonwould not have laboured for so many years at his "Paradise Lost, " merelyfor the sake of the five pounds for which he sold the first edition tothe publisher. Nor would Schiller have gone on toiling for twenty yearsup to the topmost pinnacles of thought, merely for the sake of the baremeans of living which he earned by his work. 

At the same time, men of genius should not disregard the common rules ofarithmetic. If they spend more than they earn, they will run into debt. Nor will complaining of the harshness of the world keep them out of it. They have to stand or fall on their merits as men, and if they are notprovident they will suffer the same consequences as others. Thackeray, in painting the character of Captain Shandon, in his "Pendennis, " gaveconsiderable offence to the literary profession; yet he only spoke thetruth. "If a lawyer, " said he, "or a soldier, or a parson, outruns hisincome, and does not pay his bills, he must go to gaol; and an authormust go too. "

Literary men are not neglected because they are literary men. But theyhave no right to expect that society will overlook their social offencesbecause they are literary men. It is necessary for the world's sake, aswell as for their own sake, that literary men and artists should takecare to "provide against the evil day" like other people. "Imaginationand art, " says Madame de Staël, "have need to look after their owncomfort and happiness in this world. " The world ought to help themgenerously; all good men ought to help them; but what is better thanall, they ought to help themselves. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

RICHES AND CHARITY. 

 "Who--who--who's here I, Robert of Doncaster. That I spent, that I had; That I gave, that I have; That I left, that I lost. " _Epitaph_, A. D. 1579. 

"If thou art rich, thou art poor;For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bowsThou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journeyAnd death unloads thee. "--_Shakespeare_. 

"II est bon d'être charitable, Mais envers qui? C'est là le point. "--_La Fontaine_. 

"There are many idlers to whom a penny begged is sweeter than a shillingearned. "--_Douglas Jerrold_. 

"He stole a pig, and in God's name gave the trotters to thepoor. "--_From the Spanish. _

Man must be thrifty in order to be generous. Thrift does not end withitself, but extends its benefits to others. It founds hospitals, endowscharities, establishes colleges, and extends educational influences. Benevolence springs from the best qualities of the mind and heart. Itsdivine spirit elevates the benefactors of the world--the Howards, Clarksons, and Naviers--to the highest pedestals of moral genius and ofnational worship. 

The same feeling pervades our common humanity. The poorest man, thedaily worker, the obscurest individual, shares the gift and the blessingof doing good--a blessing that imparts no less delight to him who givesthan to him who receives. 

"Man is dear to man; the poorest poorLong for some moments, in a weary life, When they can know and feel that they have beenThemselves the fathers and the dealers-outOf some small blessings; have been kind to suchAs needed kindness, for this single cause, That we have all of us one human heart. "

The duty of helping the helpless is one that speaks trumpet-tongued; butespecially to those who profess love to God and goodwill to men. It is aduty that belongs to men as individuals, and as members of the socialbody. As individuals, because we are enjoined to help the widow and thefatherless in their affliction; and as members of the social body, because society claims of every man that he shall be a helper in thecause of progress and of social well-being. 

It is not necessary that men should be rich, to be helpful to others. John Pounds was not a rich man; yet by his influence Ragged Schools wereestablished. He was temperate, and saved enough from his earnings to buyfood for his pupils. He attracted them by his kindness, sometimes by a"hot potato;" he taught them, and sent them out into the world, fortified by his good example, to work in it, and do their duty towardsit. Nor was Robert Raikes, the founder of Sunday and other schools, arich man; neither was Thomas Wright, the prison philanthropist. Nor wereSt. Vincent de Paul and Father Mathew--the promoters of education andtemperance. Nor were the great men of science--Newton, Watt, andFaraday; nor the great missionaries--Xavier, Martyn, Carey, andLivingstone. 

A fine instance of gentleness and generosity is recorded in Walton'smemoir of Dr. Donne. When the latter, long straitened in his means, hadentered upon the Deanery of St. Paul's, and was thereby provided with anincome more than sufficient for all his wants, he felt that those meanshad been entrusted to him, for good uses, and to employ for human helpand to the glory of the Giver thereof. At the foot of a private account, "to which God and His angels only were witnesses with him, " Dr. Donnecomputed first his revenue, then what was given to the poor and otherpious uses, and lastly, what rested for him and his; and having donethat, he then blessed each year's poor remainder with a thankful prayer. 

Dr. Donne did most of his good in secret, letting not his right handknow what his left hand did. He redeemed many poor from prison; helpedmany a poor scholar; and employed a trusty servant or a discreet friendto distribute his bounty where it was most needed. A friend whom he hadknown in days of affluence, having by a too liberal heart andcarelessness become decayed in his estate and reduced to poverty, Donnesent him a hundred pounds. But the decayed gentleman returned it withthanks, saying that he wanted it not;--for, says Walton, in narratingthe event, "as there be some spirits so generous as to labour to concealand endure a sad poverty, rather than expose themselves to those blushesthat attend the confession of it, so there be others to whom nature andgrace have afforded such sweet and compassionate souls as to pity andprevent the distresses of mankind; which I have mentioned because of Dr. Donne's reply, whose answer was, 'I know you want not what will sustainnature, for a little will do that; but my desire is that you, who in thedays of your plenty have cheered and raised the hearts of so many ofyour dejected friends, would now receive this from me, and use it as acordial for the cheering of your own;'"--and upon these terms it wasreceived. 

The truth is, that we very much exaggerate the power of riches. Immensesubscriptions are got up for the purpose of reforming men from theirsinful courses, and turning them from evil to good. And yetsubscriptions will not do it. It is character that can do the work;money never can. Great changes in society can never be effected throughriches. To turn men from intemperance, improvidence, and irreligion, andto induce them to seek their happiness in the pursuit of proper andnoble objects, requires earnest purpose, honest self-devotion, and hardwork. Money may help in many respects; but money by itself can donothing. The apostle Paul planted the knowledge of the Christianreligion over half the Roman empire; yet he supported himself bytent-making, and not by collecting subscriptions. Men of anxious, earnest, honest hearts, are far more wanted than rich men--willing togive money in charity. 

Nothing is so much over-estimated as the power of money. All the peoplewho are looking out for front seats in "society, " think it the one thingneedful. They may be purse-liberal, but they are also purse-proud. Thehypocritical professions of some people, with a view to elicit the goodopinion of others, in the teeth of their daily life and practice, isnothing short of disgusting. "Oh, Geordie, jingling Geordie, " said KingJames, in the novel, "it was grand to hear Baby Charles laying down theguilt of dissimulation, and Steenie lecturing on the turpitude ofincontinence!"

Some people have an idolatrous worship of money. The Israelites hadtheir golden Calf; the Greeks had their golden Jupiter. Old Bounderbyvalued the man who was worth a "hundred thousand pounds. " Others do thesame. The lowest human nature loves money, possessions, value. "What ishe worth?" "What is his income?" are the usual questions. If you say, "There is a thoroughly good, benevolent, virtuous man!" nobody willnotice him. But if you say, "There is a man worth a million of money, "he will be stared at till out of sight. A crowd of people used tocollect at Hyde Park Corner to see a rich man pass. "Here comes oldCrockie!" and the crowd would separate to allow him to pass, amidstwhispers of admiration. It was old Crockford, who made a large fortuneby keeping a gambling-house. 

"The very sound of millions, " says Mrs. Gore, [1] "tickles the ear of anEnglishman! He loves it so much, indeed, that it all but reconciles himto the National Debt; and when applied to private proprietorship, itsecures deference for lowness of mind, birth, habits, and pursuits.... Ambition and money-love, if they tend to ennoble a country, reduce toinsignificance the human particles of which the nation is composed. Intheir pursuit of riches, the English are gradually losing sight ofhigher characteristics; ... Our pursuit of railway bubbles and everyother frantic speculation of the hour, affords sufficient evidence ofthe craving after capital superseding every better aspiration, whetherfor this world or the next. "

[Footnote 1: Introduction to "Men of Capital. "]

The love of gold threatens to drive everything before it. The pursuit ofmoney has become the settled custom of the country. Many are so absorbedby it, that every other kind of well-being is either lost sight of, oraltogether undervalued. And then the lovers of money think to recovertheir moral tone by bestowing charity! Mountains of gold weigh heavilyupon the heart and soul. The man who can withstand the weight of riches, and still be diligent, industrious, and strong in mind and heart, mustbe made of strong stuff. For, people who are rich, are almost invariablydisposed to be idle, luxurious, and self-indulgent. 

"If money, " said the Rev. Mr. Griffiths, Rector of Merthyr, "did notmake men forget men, one-half of the evil that is in the world wouldnever occur. If masters drew nearer to the men, and men were permittedto draw nearer their masters, we should not be passing through thisfiery ordeal. Let them do something to win the men out of thepublic-houses; let them spare more of their enormous gains to buildplaces of amusement and recreation for the people; let them providebetter houses to live in, better conveniences for decency, betterstreets; and if all these things are done we shall have neitherlock-outs nor strikes. We hear with pomp and triumph of the millions andmillions that have been dug out of this old Welsh land of ours, but wehear nothing--and we see, indeed, less--of the public buildings, thepeople's parks, the public libraries and public institutions, and othercivilizing agencies. Fifteen months ago, when we were in the highesttide of prosperity, I said all this, and no notice was taken of it. Whyshould any notice be taken of a preaching parson or a Christian ministerof any kind, when sovereigns fly about like snowflakes in winter, or maybe gathered like blackberries in summer?"[1]

[Footnote 1: Sermon preached at Merthyr during the South Wales strike. ]

Men go on toiling and moiling, eager to be richer; desperatelystruggling, as if against poverty, at the same time that they aresurrounded with abundance. They scrape and scrape, add shilling toshilling, and sometimes do shabby things in order to make a little moreprofit; though they may have accumulated far more than they can actuallyenjoy. And still they go on, worrying themselves incessantly in theendeavour to grasp at an additional increase of superfluity. Perhapssuch men have not enjoyed the advantages of education in early life. They have no literary pleasures to fall back upon; they have no tastefor books; sometimes they can scarcely write their own names. They havenothing to think of but money, --and of what will make money. They haveno faith, but in riches! They keep their children under restriction andbring them up with a servile education. 

At length, an accumulation of money comes into the children's hands. They have before been restricted in their expenditure; now they becomelavish. They have been educated in no better tastes. They spendextravagantly. They will not be drudges in business as their father was. They will be "gentlemen, " and spend their money "like gentlemen. " Andvery soon the money takes wings and flies away. Many are the instancesin which families have been raised to wealth in the first generation, launched into ruinous expense in the second, and disappeared in thethird, --being again reduced to poverty. Hence the Lancashire proverb, "Twice clogs, once boots. " The first man wore clogs, and accumulated a"a power o' money;" his rich son spent it; and the third generation tookup the clogs again. A candidate for parliamentary honours, when speakingfrom the hustings, was asked if he had plenty brass. "Plenty brass?"said he; "ay, I've lots o' brass!--I stink o' brass!"

The same social transformations are known in Scotland. The proverb thereis, "The grandsire digs, the father bigs, the son thigs, "[1]--that is, the grandfather worked hard and made a fortune, the father built a finehouse, and the son, "an unthrifty son of Linne, " when land and goodswere gone and spent, took to thieving. Merchants are sometimes princesto-day and beggars to-morrow; and so long as the genius for speculationis exercised by a mercantile family, the talent which gave them landedproperty may eventually deprive them of it. 

[Footnote 1: _Dublin University Magazine_. ]

To be happy in old age--at a time when men should leave for ever thetoil, anxiety, and worry of money-making--they must, during youth andmiddle life, have kept their minds healthily active. They mustfamiliarize themselves with knowledge, and take an interest in all thathas been done, and is doing, to make the world wiser and better from ageto age. There is enough leisure in most men's lives to enable them tointerest themselves in biography and history. They may also acquireconsiderable knowledge of science, or of some ennobling pursuitdifferent from that by which money is made. Mere amusement will not do. No man can grow happy upon amusement. The mere man of pleasure is amiserable creature, --especially in old age. The mere drudge in businessis little better. Whereas the study of literature, philosophy, andscience is full of tranquil pleasure, down to the end of life. If therich old man has no enjoyment apart from money-making, his old agebecomes miserable. He goes on grinding and grinding in the same rut, perhaps growing richer and richer. What matters it? He cannot eat hisgold. He cannot spend it. His money, instead of being beneficial to him, becomes a curse. He is the slave of avarice, the meanest of sins. He isspoken of as a despicable creature. He becomes base, even in his ownestimation. 

What a miserable end was that of the rich man who, when dying, found nocomfort save in plunging his hands into a pile of new sovereigns, whichhad been brought to him from the bank. As the world faded from him, hestill clutched them; handled and fondled them one by one, --and then hepassed away, --his last effort being to finger his gold! Elwes the miserdied shrieking, "I will keep my money!--nobody shall deprive me of myproperty!" A ghastly and humiliating spectacle!

Rich men are more punished for their excess of economy, than poor menare for their want of it. They become miserly, think themselves dailygrowing poorer, and die the deaths of beggars. We have known severalinstances. One of the richest merchants in London, after living for sometime in penury, went down into the country, to the parish where he wasborn, and applied to the overseers for poor's relief. Though possessingmillions, he was horror-struck by the fear of becoming poor. Relief wasgranted him, and he positively died the death of a pauper. One of therichest merchants in the North died in the receipt of poor's relief. Ofcourse, all that the parish authorities had doled out to these poor-richmen was duly repaid by their executors. 

And what did these rich persons leave behind them? Only the reputationthat they had died rich men. But riches do not constitute any claim todistinction. It is only the vulgar who admire riches as riches. Money isa drug in the market. Some of the most wealthy men living are merenobodies. Many of them are comparatively ignorant. They are of no moralor social account. A short time since, a list was published of twohundred and twenty-four English millionaires. Some were known as screws;some were "smart men" in regard to speculations; some were largenavvies, coal-miners, and manufacturers; some were almost unknown beyondtheir own local circle; some were very poor creatures; very few were menof distinction. All that one could say of them was, that they died richmen. 

"All the rich and all the covetous men in the world, " said JeremyTaylor, "will perceive, and all the world will perceive for them, thatit is but an ill recompense for all their cares, that by this time allthat shall be left will be this, that the neighbours shall say, _He dieda rich man:_ and yet his wealth will not profit him in the grave, buthugely swell the sad accounts of his doomsday. "

"One of the chief causes, " says Mrs. Gore, "which render the pursuit ofwealth a bitterer as well as more pardonable struggle in England than onthe Continent, is the unequal and capricious distribution of familyproperty.... Country gentlemen and professional men, --nay, men withoutthe pretension of being gentlemen, --are scarcely less smitten with themania of creating 'an eldest son' to the exclusion and degradation oftheir younger children; and by the individuals thus defrauded by theirnearest and dearest, is the idolatry of Mammon pursued without the leastregard to self-respect, or the rights of their fellow-creatures. Injured, they injure in their turn. Their days are devoted to a campaignfor the recovery of their birthright. Interested marriages, shabbybargains, and political jobbery, may be traced to the vile system ofthings which converts the elder son into a Dives, and makes a Lazarus ofhis brother. "

But democrats have quite as great a love for riches as aristocrats; andmany austere republicans are eager to be millionaires. Forms ofgovernment do not influence the desire for wealth. The elder Cato was ausurer. One of his means of making money was by buying young half-fedslaves at a low price; then, by fattening them up, and training them towork, he sold them at an enhanced price. Brutus, when in the Isle ofCyprus, lent his money at forty-eight per cent. Interest, [1] and no onethought the worse of him for his Usury. Washington, the hero of Americanfreedom, bequeathed his slaves to his wife. It did not occur to him togive them their liberty. Municipal jobbery is not unknown in New York;and its influential citizens are said to be steeped to the lips inpolitical corruption. Mr. Mills says, that the people of theNorth-Eastern States have apparently got rid of all social injusticesand inequalities; that the proportion of population to capital and landis such as to ensure abundance for every able-bodied man; that theyenjoy the six points of the Charter, and need never complain of poverty. Yet "all that these advantages have done for them is, that the life ofthe whole of our sex is devoted to dollar-hunting; and of the other, tobreeding dollar-hunters. This, " Mr. Mill adds, "is not a kind of socialperfection which philanthropists to come will feel any very eager desireto assist in realizing. "[2]

[Footnote 1: Cicero's Letters]

[Footnote 2: _Principles of Political Economy_, Book iv. , ch. Vi. ]

Saladin the Great conquered Syria, Arabia, Persia, and Mesopotamia. Hewas the greatest warrior and conqueror of his time. His power and wealthwere enormous. Yet he was fully persuaded of the utter hollowness ofriches. He ordered, by his will, that considerable sums should bedistributed to Mussulmans, Jews, and Christians, in order that thepriests of the three religions might implore for him the mercy of God. He commanded that the shirt or tunic which he wore at the time of hisdeath should be carried on the end of a spear throughout the whole campand at the head of his army, and that the soldier who bore it shouldpause at intervals and say aloud, "Behold all that remains of theEmperor Saladin!--of all the states he had conquered; of all theprovinces he had subdued; of the boundless treasures he had amassed; ofthe countless wealth he possessed, he retained, in dying, nothing butthis shroud!"

Don Jose de Salamanca, the great railway contractor of Spain, was, inthe early part of his life, a student at the University of Granada. Hethere wore, as he himself says, the oldest and most worn of cassocks. Hewas a diligent student; and after leaving college he became a member ofthe Spanish press. From thence he was translated to the Cabinet of QueenChristina, of which he became Finance Minister. This brought out hiscommercial capacities, and induced him to enter on commercialspeculations. He constructed railways in Spain and Italy, and took theprincipal share in establishing several steam-shipping companies. Butwhile pursuing commerce, he did not forget literature. Once a week hekept an open table, to which the foremost men in literature and thepress were invited. They returned his hospitality by inviting him to adinner on the most economic scale. Busts of Shakespeare, Cervantes, Dante, Schiller, and other literary men, adorned the room. 

In returning thanks for his health, Salamanca referred to his universityexperience, and to his labours in connection with the press. "Then, " hewent on to say, "the love of gold took possession of my soul, and it wasat Madrid that I found the object of my adoration; but not, alas!without the loss of my juvenile illusions. Believe me, gentlemen, theman who can satisfy all his wishes has no more enjoyment. Keep to thecourse you have entered on, I advise you. Rothschild's celebrity willexpire on the day of his death. Immortality can be earned, not bought. Here are before us the effigies of men who have gloriously cultivatedliberal arts; their busts I have met with in every part of Europe; butnowhere have I found a statue erected to the honour of a man who hasdevoted his life to making money. "

Riches and happiness have no necessary connection with each other. Insome cases it might be said that happiness is in the inverse proportionto riches. The happiest part of most men's lives is while they arebattling with poverty, and gradually raising themselves above it. It isthen that they deny themselves for the sake of others, --that they savefrom their earnings to secure a future independence, --that theycultivate their minds while labouring for their daily bread, --that theyendeavour to render themselves wiser and better--happier in their homesand more useful to society at large. William Chambers, the Edinburghpublisher, speaking of the labours of his early years, says, "I lookback to those times with great pleasure, and I am almost sorry that Ihave not to go through the same experience again; for I reaped morepleasure when I had not a sixpence in my pocket, studying in a garret inEdinburgh, than I now find when sitting amidst all the elegancies andcomforts of a parlour. "

There are compensations in every condition of life. The difference inthe lot of the rich and the poor is not so great as is generallyimagined. The rich man has often to pay a heavy price for hisprivileges. He is anxious about his possessions. He may be the victim ofextortion. He is apt to be cheated. He is the mark for every man'sshaft. He is surrounded by a host of clients, till his purse bleeds atevery pore. As they say in Yorkshire when people become rich, the moneysoon "broddles through. " Or, if engaged in speculation, the rich man'swealth may fly away at any moment. He may try again, and then wear hisheart out in speculating on the "chances of the market. " _Insomnia_ is arich man's disease. The thought of his winnings and losings keeps himsleepless. He is awake by day, and awake by night. "Riches on the brain"is full of restlessness and agony. 

The rich man over-eats or over-drinks; and he has gout. Imagine a manwith a vice fitted to his toe. Let the vice descend upon the joint, andbe firmly screwed down. Screw it again. He is in agony. Then suddenlyturn the screw tighter--down, down! That is gout! Gout--of whichSydenham has said, that "unlike any other disease, it kills more richmen than poor, more wise than simple. Great kings, emperors, generals, admirals, and philosophers, have died of gout. Hereby nature shows herimpartiality, since those whom she favours in one way, she afflicts inanother Or, the rich man may become satiated with food, and lose hisappetite; while the poor man relishes and digests anything. A beggarasked alms of a rich man "because he was hungry. " "Hungry?" said themillionaire; "how I envy you!" Abernethy's prescription to the rich manwas, "Live upon a shilling a day, and earn it!" When the Duke of Yorkconsulted him about his health, Abernethy's answer was, "Cut off thesupplies, and the enemy will soon leave the citadel. " The labourer whofeels little and thinks less, has the digestion of an ostrich; while thenon-worker is never allowed to forget that he has a stomach, and isobliged to watch every mouthful that he eats. Industry and indigestionare two things seldom found united. 

Many people envy the possessions of the rich, but will not pass throughthe risks, the fatigues, or the dangers of acquiring them. It is relatedof the Duke of Dantzic that an old comrade, whom he had not seen formany years, called upon him at his hotel in Paris, and seemed amazed atthe luxury of his apartments, the richness of his furniture, and themagnificence of his gardens. The Duke, supposing that he saw in his oldcomrade's face a feeling of jealousy, said to him bluntly, "You may haveall that you see before you, on one condition. " "What is that?" said hisfriend. "It is that you will place yourself twenty paces off, and let mefire at you with a musket a hundred times. " "I will certainly not acceptyour offer at that price. " "Well, " replied the Marshal, "to gain allthat you see before you, I have faced more than a thousand gunshots, fired at not move than ten paces off. "

The Duke of Marlborough often faced death. He became rich, and left amillion and a half to his descendants to squander. The Duke was apenurious man. He is said to have scolded his servant for lighting fourcandles in his tent, when Prince Eugene called upon him to hold aconference before the battle of Blenheim. Swift said of the Duke, "Idare hold a wager that in all his compaigns he was never known to losehis baggage. " But this merely showed his consummate generalship. Whenill and feeble at Bath, he is said to have walked home from the rooms tohis lodgings, to save sixpence. And yet this may be excused, for he mayhave walked home for exercise. He is certainly known to have given athousand pounds to a young and deserving soldier who wished to purchasea commission. When Bolingbroke was reminded of one of the weaknesses ofMarlborough, he observed, "He was so great a man, that I forgot that hehad that defect. "

It is no disgrace to be poor. The praise of honest poverty has oftenbeen sung. When a man will not stoop to do wrong, when he will not sellhimself for money, when he will not do a dishonest act, then his povertyis most honourable. But the man is not poor who can pay his way, andsave something besides. He who pays cash for all that he purchases, isnot poor but well off. He is in a happier condition than the idlegentleman who runs into debt, and is clothed, shod, and fed at theexpense of his tailor, shoemaker, and butcher. Montesquieu says, that aman is not poor because he has nothing, but he is poor when he will notor cannot work. The man who is able and willing to work, is better offthan the man who possesses a thousand crowns without the necessity forworking. 

Nothing sharpens a man's wits like poverty. Hence many of the greatestmen have originally been poor men. Poverty often purifies and braces aman's morals. To spirited people, difficult tasks are usually the mostdelightful ones. If we may rely upon the testimony of history, men arebrave, truthful, and magnanimous, not in proportion to their wealth, butin proportion to their smallness of means. And the best are often thepoorest, --always supposing that they have sufficient to meet theirtemporal wants. A divine has said that God has created poverty, but Hehas not created misery. And there is certainly a great differencebetween the two. While honest poverty is honourable, misery ishumiliating; inasmuch as the latter is for the most part the result ofmisconduct, and often of idleness and drunkenness. Poverty is nodisgrace to him who can put up with it; but he who finds the beggar'sstaff once get warm in his hand, never does any good, but a great amountof evil. 

The poor are often the happiest of people--far more so than the rich;but though they may be envied, no one will be found willing to taketheir place. Moore has told the story of the over-fed, over-satisfiedeastern despot, who sent a messenger to travel through the world, inorder to find out the happiest man. When discovered, the messenger wasimmediately to seize him, take his shirt off his back, and bring it tothe Caliph. The messenger found the happiest man in an Irishman, --happy, dancing, and flourishing his shillelagh. But when the ambassadorproceeded to seize him, and undress him, he found that the Irishman hadgot no shirt to his back!

The portion of Agur is unquestionably the best: "Remove far from mevanity and lies; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with foodconvenient for me. " The unequal distribution of the disposition to behappy, is of far greater importance than the unequal distribution ofwealth. The disposition to be content and satisfied, said David Hume, isat least equal to an income of a thousand a year. Montaigne has observedthat Fortune confers but little. Human good or ill does not depend uponit. It is but the seed of good, which the soul, infinitely stronger thanwealth, changes and applies as it pleases, and is thus the only cause ofa happy or unhappy disposition. 

England is celebrated for its charities. M. Guizot declares that thereis nothing in this land that so fills the mind of the stranger withamazement at our resources, and admiration at our use of them, as thenoble free-gift monuments raised on every side for the relief ofmultiform suffering. The home philanthropist, who looks a little deeperthan the foreign visitor, may be disposed to take another view of theeffects of money-giving. That charity produces unmixed good, is verymuch questioned. Charity, like man, is sometimes blind, and frequentlymisguided. Unless money is wisely distributed, it will frequently domore harm than good. If charity could help or elevate the poor, Londonwould now be the happiest city in the world; for about three millions ofmoney are spent on charity, and about one in every three of the Londonpopulation are relieved by charitable institutions. 

It is very easy to raise money for charity. Subscription listsconstantly attest the fact. A rich man is asked by some influentialperson for money. It is very easy to give it. It saves time to give it. It is considered a religious duty to give it. Yet to give moneyunthinkingly, to give it without considering how it is to beused, --instead of being for the good of our fellow-creatures, --may oftenprove the greatest injury we could inflict upon them. True benevolencedoes not consist in giving money. Nor can charitable donations, givenindiscriminately to the poor, have any other effect than to sap thefoundations of self-respect, and break down the very outworks of virtueitself. There are many forms of benevolence which create the very evilsthey are intended to cure, and encourage the poorer classes in the habitof dependence upon the charity of others, --to the neglect of those farhealthier means of social well-being which lie within their own reach. 

One would think that three million a year were sufficient to relieve allthe actual distress that exists in London. Yet the distress, notwithstanding all the money spent upon it, goes on increasing. May notthe money spent in charity, create the distress it relieves, --besidescreating other distress which it fails to relieve? Uneducated and idlepeople will not exert themselves for a living, when they have the hopeof obtaining the living without exertion. Who will be frugal andprovident, when charity offers all that frugality and providence canconfer? Does not the gift of the advantages, comforts, and rewards ofindustry, without the necessity of labouring for them, tend to sap thevery foundations of energy and self-reliance? Is not the circumstancethat poverty is the only requisite qualification on the part of theapplicant for charity, calculated to tempt the people toself-indulgence, to dissipation, and to those courses of life which keepthem poor?

Men who will not struggle and exert themselves, are those who are helpedfirst. The worst sort of persons are made comfortable: whilst thehard-working, self-supporting man, who disdains to throw himself uponcharity, is compelled to pay rates for the maintenance of the idle. Charity stretches forth its hand to the rottenest parts of society; itrarely seeks out, or helps, the struggling and the honest. As Carlylehas said, "O my astonishing benevolent friends! that never think ofmeddling with the material while it continues sound; that stress andstrain it with new rates and assessments, till even it has given way anddeclared itself rotten; whereupon you greedily snatch at it, and say, 'Now let us try to do some good upon it!'"

The charity which merely consists in giving, is an idleindulgence--often an idle vice. The mere giving of money will never dothe work of philanthropy. As a recent writer has said, "The crimes ofthe virtuous, the blasphemies of the pious, and the follies of the wise, would scarcely fill a larger volume than the cruelties of the humane. Inthis world a large part of the occupation of the wise has been toneutralize the efforts of the good. "

"Public charities, " said the late Lord Lytton, "are too often merely abonus to public indolence and vice. What a dark lesson of the fallacy ofhuman wisdom does this knowledge strike into the heart! What a waste ofthe materials of kindly sympathies! What a perversion individualmistakes can cause, even in the virtues of a nation! Charity is afeeling dear to the pride of the human heart--it is an aristocraticemotion! Mahomet testified his deep knowledge of his kind when heallowed the vice hardest to control, --sexual licentiousness; andencouraged the virtue easiest to practise, --charity. "[1]

[Footnote 1: LORD LYTTON--_England and the English_, p. 124. ]

There are clergymen in London who say that charity acts against theextension of religion amongst the people. The Rev. Mr. Stone says, "Heis an unwelcome visitor to the poor who brings the Bible in one hand, without a loaf, a blanket, or a shilling in the other. And no wonder. Bythe prevailing system of charitable relief they have been _nursed_ inthis carnal spirit; they have been justified in those selfishexpectations. Instead of being allowed to learn the great and salutarylesson of providence, that there is a necessary connection between theirconduct and their condition, they have, by this artificial system, beentaught that indigence is _of itself_ sufficient to constitute a claim torelief. They have been thus encouraged in improvidence, immorality, fraud, and hypocrisy. "

The truest philanthropists are those who endeavour to prevent misery, dependence, and destitution; and especially those who diligently helpthe poor to help themselves. This is the great advantage of the"Parochial Mission-Women Association. "[1] They bring themselves intoclose communication with the people in the several parishes of London, and endeavour to assist them in many ways. But they avoid givingindiscriminate alms. Their objects are "to help the poor to helpthemselves, and to raise them by making them feel that they _can_ helpthemselves. " There is abundant room for philanthropy amongst allclasses; and it is most gratifying to find ladies of high distinctiontaking part in this noble work. 

[Footnote 1: See _East and West_, edited by the Countess Spencer. ]

There are numerous other societies established of late years, whichafford gratifying instances of the higher and more rational, as well asreally more Christian, forms of charity. The societies for improving thedwellings of the industrial classes, --for building baths andwashhouses, --for establishing workmen's, seamen's, and servants'homes, --for cultivating habits of providence and frugality amongst theworking-classes, --and for extending the advantages of knowledge amongstthe people, --are important agencies of this kind. These, instead ofsapping the foundations of self-reliance, are really and truly helpingthe people to help themselves, and are deserving of every approbationand encouragement. They tend to elevate the condition of the mass; theyare embodiments of philanthropy in its highest form; and are calculatedto bear good fruit through all time. 

Rich men, with the prospect of death before them, are often very muchconcerned about their money affairs. If unmarried and withoutsuccessors, they find a considerable difficulty in knowing what to dowith the pile of gold they have gathered together during their lifetime. They must make a will, and leave it to somebody. In olden times, richpeople left money to pay for masses for their souls. Perhaps many do sostill. Some founded almshouses; others hospitals. Money was left for thepurpose of distributing doles to poor persons, or to persons of the samename and trade as the deceased. 

"These doles, " said the wife of a clergyman in the neighbourhood ofLondon, "are doing an infinite deal of mischief: they are rapidlypauperising the parish. " Not long since, the town of Bedford wascorrupted and demoralized by the doles and benefactions which rich menhad left to the poorer classes. Give a man money without working for it, and he will soon claim it as a right. It practically forbids him toexercise forethought, or to provide against the vicissitudes of trade, or the accidents of life. It not only breaks down the bulwarks ofindependence, but the outposts of virtue itself. 

Large sums of money are left by rich men to found "Charities. " They wishto do good, but in many cases they do much moral injury. Their"Charities" are anything but charitable. They destroy the self-respectof the working-classes, and also of the classes above them. "We can getthis charity for nothing. We can get medical assistance for nothing. Wecan get our children educated for nothing. Why should we work? Whyshould we save?" Such is the idea which charity, so-called, inculcates. The "Charitable Institution" becomes a genteel poor-house; and thelesson is extensively taught that we can do better by begging than byworking. 

The bequeathment of Stephen Girard, the wealthy American merchant, wasof a different character. Girard was a native of Bordeaux. An orphan atan early age, he was put on board a ship as a cabin boy. He made hisfirst voyage to North America when about ten or twelve years old. He hadlittle education, and only a limited acquaintance with reading andwriting. He worked hard. He gradually improved in means so that he wasable to set up a store. Whilst living in Water Street, New York, he fellin love with Polly Luna, the daughter of a caulker. The father forbadethe marriage. But Girard persevered, and at length he won and marriedPolly Lum. It proved a most unfortunate marriage. His wife had nosympathy with him; and he became cross, snappish, morose. He took to seaagain; and at forty he commanded his own sloop, and was engaged in thecoasting trade between New York, Philadelphia, and New Orleans. 

Then he settled in Philadelphia, and became a merchant. He devoted hiswhole soul to his business; for he had determined to become rich. Hepractised the most rigid economy. He performed any work by which moneycould be made. He shut his heart against the blandishments of life. Thedesire for wealth seems to have possessed his soul. His life was one ofunceasing labour. Remember, that Girard was unhappy at home. His naturemight have been softened, had he been blessed with a happy wife. He ledten miserable years with her; and then she became insane. She lay forabout twenty years in the Pennsylvania hospital, and died there. 

Yet there was something more than hardness and harshness in Girard. There was a deep under-current of humanity in him. When the yellow feverbroke out in Philadelphia, in 1793, his better nature showed itself. Thepeople were smitten to death by thousands. Nurses could not be found toattend the patients in the hospital. It was regarded as certain death tonurse the sick. 

"Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the oppressor;But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger;Only, alas I the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants, Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. "

It was at this time, when many were stricken with fever, that Girardabandoned his business, and offered his services as superintendent ofthe public hospital. He had Peter Helm for his associate. Girard'sbusiness faculty immediately displayed itself. His powers oforganization were immense, and the results of his work were soonobserved. Order began to reign where everything had before been inconfusion. Dirt was conquered by cleanliness. Where there had beenwastefulness, there was now thriftiness. Where there had been neglect, there was unremitting attention. Girard saw that every case was properlyattended to. He himself attended to the patients afflicted by theloathsome disease, ministered to the dying, and performed the last kindoffices for the dead. At last the plague was stayed; and Girard and Helmreturned to their ordinary occupations. 

The visitors of the poor in Philadelphia placed the following minute ontheir books: "Stephen Girard and Peter Helm, members of the committee, commiserating the calamitous state to which the sick may probably bereduced for want of suitable persons to superintend the hospital, voluntarily offered their services for that benevolent employment, andexcited a surprise and satisfaction that can be better conceived thanexpressed. "

The results of Stephen Girard's industry and economy may be seen inPhiladelphia--in the beautiful dwelling houses, row after row, --but morethan all, in the magnificent marble edifice of Girard College. He leftthe greater part of his fortune for public purposes, --principally toerect and maintain a public library and a large orphanage. It might havebeen in regard to his own desolate condition, when cast an orphanamongst strangers and foreigners, that he devised his splendid charityfor poor, forlorn, and fatherless children. One of the rooms in thecollege is singularly furnished. "Girard had directed that a suitableroom was to be set apart for the preservation of his books and papers;but from excess of pious care, or dread of the next-of kin, all theplain homely man's effects were shovelled into this room. Here are hisboxes and his bookcase, his gig and his gaiters, his pictures and hispottery; and in a bookcase, hanging with careless grace, are hisbraces--old homely knitted braces, telling their tale of simplicity andcarefulness. "[1]

[Footnote 1: _Gentleman's Magazine_, April. 1875. George Dawson on"Niagara and Elsewhere. "]

One of the finest hospitals in London is that founded by Thomas Guy, thebookseller. He is said to have been a miser. At all events he must havebeen a thrifty and saving man. No foundation such as that of Guy's canbe accomplished without thrift. Men who accomplish such things must denythemselves for the benefit of others. Thomas Guy appears early to haveprojected schemes of benevolence. He first built and endowed almshousesat Tamworth for fourteen poor men and women, with pensions for eachoccupant; and with a thoughtfulness becoming his vocation, he furnishedthem with a library. He had himself been educated at Tamworth, where hehad doubtless seen hungry and homeless persons suffering from cleannessof teeth and the winter's rage; and the almshouses were his contributionfor their relief. He was a bookseller in London at that time. Guyprospered, not so much by bookselling, as by buying and selling SouthSea Stock. When the bubble burst, he did not hold a share: but he hadrealized a profit of several hundred thousand pounds. This sum heprincipally employed in building and endowing the hospital which bearshis name. The building was roofed in before his death, in 1724. 

Scotch benefactors for the most part leave their savings for the purposeof founding hospitals for educational purposes. There was first theHeriot's Hospital, founded in Edinburgh by George Heriot, the goldsmithof James I. , for maintaining and educating a hundred and eighty boys. But the property of the hospital having increased in value--the New Townof Edinburgh being for the most part built on George Heriot's land--theoperations of the charity have been greatly extended; as many as fourthousand boys and girls being now educated free of expense, in differentparts of the city. There are also the George Watson's Hospital, the JohnWatson's Hospital, the Orphan Hospital, two Maiden Hospitals, theCauven's Hospital, the Donaldson's Hospital, the Stewart's Hospital, andthe splendid Fettes College (recently opened), --all founded by Scottishbenefactors for the ordinary education of boys and girls, and also fortheir higher education. Edinburgh may well be called the City ofEducational Endowments. There is also the Madras College, at St. Andrews, founded by the late Andrew Bell, D. D. ; the Dollar Institution, founded by John Macrat; and the Dick Bequest, for elevating thecharacter and position of the parochial schools and schoolmasters, inthe counties of Aberdeen, Banff, and Moray. The effects of this lastbequest have been most salutary. It has raised the character of theeducation given in the public schools, and the results have beenfrequently observed at Cambridge, where men from the northern countieshave taken high honours in all departments of learning. 

English benefactors have recently been following in the same direction. The Owen's College at Manchester; the Brown Library and Museum atLiverpool; the Whitworth Benefaction, by which thirty scholarships ofthe annual value of £100 each have been founded for the promotion oftechnical instruction; and the Scientific College at Birmingham, foundedby Sir Josiah Mason, for the purpose of educating the rising generationin "sound, extensive, and practical scientific knowledge, "--form aseries of excellent institutions which will, we hope, be followed bymany similar benefactions. A man need not moulder with the green grassover his grave, before his means are applied to noble purposes. He canmake his benefactions while living, and assist at the outset in carryingout his liberal intentions. 

Among the great benefactors of London, the name of Mr. Peabody, theAmerican banker, cannot be forgotten. It would take a volume to discusshis merits, though we must dismiss him in a paragraph. He was one of thefirst to see, or at all events to make amends for, the houselesscondition of the working classes of London. In the formation of railwaysunder and above ground, in opening out and widening new streets, inerecting new public buildings, --the dwellings of the poor weredestroyed, and their occupants swarmed away, no one knew whither. Perhaps they crowded closer together, and bred disease in many forms. Societies and companies were formed to remedy the evil to a certainextent. Sir Sydney Waterlow was one of the first to lead the way, and hewas followed by others. But it was not until Mr. Peabody had left hissplendid benefaction to the poor of London, that any steps could betaken to deal with the evil on a large and comprehensive scale. Histrustees have already erected ranges of workmen's dwellings in manyparts of the metropolis, --which will from time to time be extended toother parts. The Peabody dwellings furnish an example of what workingmen's dwellings ought to be. They are clean, tidy, and comfortablehomes. They have diminished drunkenness; they have promoted morality. Mr. Peabody intended that his bounty should "directly ameliorate thecondition and augment the comforts of the poor, " and he hoped that theresults would "be appreciated, not only by the present, but by futuregenerations of the people of London. " From all that the trustees havedone, it is clear that they are faithfully and nobly carrying out hisintentions. 

All these benefactors of the poor were originally men of moderate means. Some of them were at one time poor men. Sir Joseph Whitworth was ajourneyman engineer with Mr. Clement, in Southwark, the inventor of theplaning machine. Sir Josiah Mason was by turns a costermonger, journeyman baker, shoemaker, carpet weaver, jeweller, split-steel ringmaker (here he made his first thousand pounds), steel-pen maker, copper-smelter, and electro-plater, in which last trade he made hisfortune. Mr, Peabody worked his way up by small degrees, from a clerk inAmerica to a banker in London. Their benefactions have been the resultof self-denial, industry, sobriety, and thrift. 

Benevolence throws out blossoms which do not always ripen into fruit. Itis easy enough to project a benevolent undertaking, but more difficultto carry it out. The author was once induced to take an interest in aproposed Navvy's Home; but cold water was thrown upon the project, andit failed. The navvy workmen, who have made the railways and docks ofEngland, are a hard-working but a rather thriftless set. They aregood-hearted fellows, but sometimes drunken. In carrying out theiroperations, they often run great dangers. They are sometimes soseriously injured by wounds and fractures as to be disabled for life. For instance, in carrying out the works of the Manchester, Sheffield, and Lincolnshire Railway, there were twenty-two cases of compoundfractures seventy-four simple fractures, besides burns from blasts, severe contusions, lacerations, and dislocations. One man lost both hiseyes by a blast, another had his arm broken by a blast. Many lost theirfingers, feet, legs, and arms; which disabled them for further work. Knowing the perils to which railway labourers were exposed, it occurredto a late eminent contractor to adopt some method for helping andcomforting them in their declining years. The subject was brought underthe author's notice by his friend the late Mr. Eborall, in the followingwords: "I have just been visiting a large contractor--a man of greatwealth; and he requests your assistance in establishing a 'Navvy'sHome. ' You know that many of the contractors and engineers, who havebeen engaged in the construction of railways, are men who haveaccumulated immense fortunes: the savings of some of them amount tomillions. Well, my friend the contractor not long since found amiserable, worn-out old man in a ditch by the roadside. 'What, ' said he, 'is that you?' naming the man in the ditch by his name. 'Ay, ' repliedthe man, ''deed it is!' 'What are you doing there?' 'I have come here todie. I can work no more. ' 'Why don't you go to the workhouse? they willattend to your wants there. ' 'No! no workhouse for me! If I am to die, Iwill die in the open air. ' The contractor recognized in the man one ofhis former navvies. He had worked for him and for other contractors manyyears; and while they had been making their fortunes, the navvy who hadworked for them had fallen so low as to be found dying in a ditch. Thecontractor was much affected. He thought of the numerous other navvieswho must be wanting similar help. Shortly after, he took ill, and duringhis illness, thinking of what he might do for the navvies, the ideaoccurred to him of founding a 'Navvy's Home;' and he has desired me toask you to assist him in bringing out the institution. "

It seemed to the author an admirable project, and he consented to do allthat he could for it. But when the persons who were the most likely tocontribute to such an institution were applied to, they threw suchfloods of cold water upon it, [1] that it became evident, in the face oftheir opposition, that "The Navvy's Home" could not be established. Ofcourse, excuses were abundant. "Navvies were the most extravagantworkmen. They threw away everything that they earned. They spent theirmoney on beer, whisky, tally-women, and champagne. If they died inditches, it was their own fault. They might have established themselvesin comfort, if they wished to do so. Why should other people provide forthem in old age, more than for any other class of labourers? There wasthe workhouse: let them go there. " And so on. It is easy to find a stickto beat a sick dog. As for the original projector, he recovered hishealth, he forgot to subscribe for "The Navvy's Home, " and the schemefell to the ground. 

"The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be:The devil grew well, the devil a saint was he. '

[Footnote 1: With one admirable exception. A noble-hearted man, stillliving volunteered a very large subscription towards the establishmentof "the Navvy's Home. "]

CHAPTER XV. 

HEALTHY HOMES. 

"The best security for civilization is the dwelling. "--_B. Disraeli_. 

"Cleanliness is the elegance of the poor. "--_English Proverb_. 

"Sanitas sanitatum, et omnia sanitas. "--_Julius Menochius_. 

"Virtue never dwelt long with filth and nastiness. "--_Count Rumford_. 

"More servants wait on ManThan he'll take notice of: in every pathHe treads down that which doth befriend himWhen sickness makes him pale and wan. "--_George Herbert_. 

Health is said to be wealth. Indeed, all wealth is valueless withouthealth. Every man who lives by labour, whether of mind or body, regardshealth as one of the most valuable of possessions. Without it, lifewould be unenjoyable. The human system has been so framed as to renderenjoyment one of the principal ends of physical life. The wholearrangement, structure, and functions of the human system arebeautifully adapted for that purpose. 

The exercise of every sense is pleasurable, --the exercise of sight, hearing, taste, touch, and muscular effort. What can be morepleasurable, for instance, than the feeling of entire health, --health, which is the sum-total of the functions of life, duly performed?"Enjoyment, " says Dr. Southwood Smith, "is not only the end of life, butit is the only condition of life which is compatible with a protractedterm of existence. The happier a human being is, the longer he lives;the more he suffers, the sooner he dies. To add to enjoyment, is tolengthen life; to inflict pain, is to shorten its duration. "

Happiness is the rule of healthy existence; pain and misery are itsexceptional conditions. Nor is pain altogether an evil; it is rather asalutary warning. It tells us that we have transgressed some rule, violated some law, disobeyed some physical obligation. It is a monitorwhich warns us to amend our state of living. It virtually says, --Returnto nature, observe her laws, and be restored to happiness. Thus, paradoxical though it may seem, pain is one of the conditions of thephysical well-being of man; as death, according to Dr. Thomas Brown, isone of the conditions of the enjoyment of life. 

To enjoy physical happiness, therefore, the natural laws must becomplied with. To discover and observe these laws, man has been endowedwith the gift of reason. Does he fail to exercise this gift, --does heneglect to comply with the law of his being, --then pain and disease arethe necessary consequence. 

Man violates the laws of nature in his own person, and he suffersaccordingly. He is idle and overfeeds himself: he is punished by gout, indigestion, or apoplexy. He drinks too much: he becomes bloated, trembling, and weak; his appetite falls off, his strength declines, hisconstitution decays; and he falls a victim to the numerous diseaseswhich haunt the steps of the drunkard. 

Society suffers in the same way. It leaves districts undrained, andstreets uncleaned. Masses of the population are allowed to live crowdedtogether in unwholesome dens, half poisoned by the mephitic air of theneighbourhood. Then a fever breaks out, --or a cholera, or a plague. Disease spreads from the miserable abodes of the poor into thecomfortable homes of the rich, carrying death and devastation before it. The misery and suffering incurred in such cases, are nothing less thanwilful, inasmuch as the knowledge necessary to avert them is within thereach of all. 

Wherever any number of persons live together, the atmosphere becomespoisoned, unless means be provided for its constant change andrenovation. If there be not sufficient ventilation, the air becomescharged with carbonic acid, principally the product of respiration. Whatever the body discharges, becomes poison to the body if introducedagain through the lungs. Hence the immense importance of pure air. Adeficiency of food may be considerably less injurious than a deficiencyof pure air. Every person above fourteen years of age requires about sixhundred cubic feet of shut-up space to breathe in during the twenty-fourhours. [1] If he sleeps in a room of smaller dimensions, he will suffermore or less, and gradually approach the condition of being smothered. 

[Footnote 1: Where six hundred cubic feet of space is allowed, the airrequires to be changed, by ventilation, five times in the hour, in orderto keep it pure. The best amount of space to be allowed for a healthyadult is about eight hundred cubic feet. The air which is breathedbecomes so rapidly impure, that a constant supply of fresh air must bekept up to make the air of the shut-up space fit for breathing. Thefollowing are some amounts of space per head which are met with inpractice:--

Artizan rooms 200 cubic feet. Metropolitan LodgingHouses 240 "Poor Law Board Dormitories 300 "Barrack Regulation 60 "The best Hospitals 1, 500 to 2, 000 cubic feet. ]

Shut up a mouse in a glass receiver, and it will gradually die byrebreathing its own breath. Shut up a man in a confined space, and hewill die in the same way. The English soldiers expired in the Black Holeof Calcutta because they wanted pure air. Thus about half the childrenborn in some manufacturing towns die, before they are five years old, principally because they want pure air. Humboldt tells of a sailor whowas dying of fever in the close hold of a ship. His comrades brought himout of his hold to die in the open air. Instead of dying, he revived, and eventually got well. He was cured by the pure air. 

The most common result of breathing impure air, amongst adults, isfever. The heaviest municipal tax, said Dr. Southwood Smith, is the_fever tax_. It is estimated that in Liverpool some seven thousandpersons are yearly attacked by fever, of whom about five hundred die. Fever usually attacks persons of between twenty and thirty, or those whogenerally have small families depending on them for support. Hencedeaths from fever, by causing widowhood and orphanage, impose a veryheavy tax upon the inhabitants of all the large manufacturing towns. Dr. Playfair, after carefully considering the question, is of opinion thatthe total pecuniary loss inflicted on the county of Lancashire from_preventible_ disease, sickness, and death, amounts to not less thanfive millions sterling annually. But this is only the physical andpecuniary loss. The moral loss is infinitely greater. 

Where are now the "happy humble swains" and the "gentle shepherds" ofthe old English poets? At the present time, they are nowhere to befound. The modern Strephon and Phyllis are a very humble pair, living ina clay-floored cottage, and maintaining a family on from twelve tofifteen shillings a week. And so far from Strephon spending his time insitting by a purling stream playing "roundelays" upon a pipe, --poorfellow! he can scarcely afford to smoke one, his hours of labour are solong, and his wages are so small. As for Daphnis, he is a lout, and canneither read nor write; nor is his Chloe any better. 

Phineas Fletcher thus sang of "The Shepherd's Home:"--

"Thrice, oh, thrice happie shepherd's life and state! When courts are happinesse, unhappie pawns!

His cottage low, and safely humble gate. Shuts out proud Fortune, with her scorns and fawns:No feared treason breaks his quiet sleep:Singing all day, his flocks he learns to keep:Himself as innocent as are his simple sheep. 

His certain life, that never can deceive him, Is full of thousand sweets and rich content:The smooth-leaved beeches in the field receive himWith coolest shades, till noontide's rage is spent:His life is neither tost in boist'rous seasOf troublous world, nor lost in slothful ease;Pleased and full blest he lives, when he his God can please. '

Where, oh where, has this gentle shepherd gone? Have spinning-jenniesswallowed him up? Alas! as was observed of Mrs. Harris, "there's no sucha person. " Did he _ever_ exist? We have a strong suspicion that he neverdid, save in the imaginations of poets. 

Before the age of railroads and sanitary reformers, the pastoral life ofthe Arcadians was a beautiful myth, The Blue Book men have exploded itfor ever. The agricultural labourers have not decent houses, --onlymiserable huts, to live in. They have but few provisions for cleanlinessor decency. Two rooms for sleeping and living in, are all that thelargest family can afford. Sometimes they have only one. The day-room, in addition to the family, contains the cooking utensils, the washingapparatus, agricultural implements, and dirty clothes. In the sleepingapartment, the parents and their children, boys and girls, areindiscriminately mixed, and frequently a lodger sleeps in the same andonly room, which has generally no window, --the openings in thehalf-thatched roof admitting light, and exposing the family to everyvicissitude of the weather. The husband, having no comfort at home, seeks it in the beershop. The children grow up without decency orself-restraint. As for the half-hearted wives and daughters, their lotis very miserable. 

It is not often that village affairs are made the subject of discussionin newspapers, for the power of the press has not yet reached remotecountry places. But we do hear occasionally of whole villages beingpulled down and razed, in order to prevent them "becoming nests ofbeggars' brats. " A member of Parliament did not hesitate to confessbefore a Parliamentary Committee, that he "had pulled down betweentwenty-six and thirty cottages, which, had they been left standing, would have been inhabited by young married couples. " And what becomes ofthe dispossessed? They crowd together in the cottages which are leftstanding, if their owners will allow it; or they crowd into theworkhouses; or, more generally, they crowd into the towns, where thereis at least some hope of employment for themselves and their children. 

Our manufacturing towns are not at all what they ought to be; notsufficiently pure, wholesome, or well-regulated. But the rural labourersregard even the misery of towns as preferable to the worse misery of therural districts; and year by year they crowd into the seats ofmanufacturing industry in search of homes and employment. This speaksvolumes as to the actual state of our "boasted peasantry, theircountry's pride. "

The intellectual condition of the country labourers seems to be on a parwith their physical state. Those in the western counties are as littlecivilized as the poor people in the east of London. A report of theDiocesan Board of the county of Hereford states that "a great deal ofthe superstition of past ages lingers in our parishes. The observationof lucky and unlucky days and seasons is by no means unusual; the phasesof the moon are regarded with great respect, --in one, medicine may betaken, in another it is advisable to kill a pig; over the doors of manyhouses may be found twigs placed crosswise, and never suffered to losetheir cruciform position; and the horseshoe preserves its old station onmany a stable-door. Charms are devoutly believed in; a ring made from ashilling, offered at the communion, is an undoubted cure for fits; hairplucked from the crop on an ass's shoulder, and woven into a chain, tobe put round a child's neck, is powerful for the same purpose; and thehand of a corpse applied to the neck is believed to disperse a wen. The'evil eye, ' so long dreaded in uneducated countries, has its terrorsamong us; and if a person of ill life be suddenly called away, there aregenerally some who hear his 'tokens, ' or see his ghost. There exists, besides, the custom of communicating deaths to hives of bees, in thebelief that they invariably abandon their owners if the intelligence bewithheld. "

Sydney Smith has said, with more truth than elegance, that in theinfancy of all nations, even the most civilized, men lived the life ofpigs; and if sanitary reporters had existed in times past as they donow, we should doubtless have received an account of the actualexistence and domestic accommodation of the old English "swains" and"shepherds, " very different from that given by Phineas Fletcher. Eventhe mechanics of this day are more comfortably lodged than the greatlanded gentry of the Saxon and Norman periods: and if the truth could begot at, it would be found that, bad as is the state of our agriculturallabourers now, the condition of their forefathers was no better. 

The first method of raising a man above the life of an animal is toprovide him with a healthy home. The Home is after all the best schoolfor the world. Children grow up into men and women there; they imbibetheir best and their worst morality there; and their morals andintelligence are in a great measure well or ill trained there. Men canonly be really and truly humanized and civilized through the institutionof the Home. There is domestic purity and moral life in the good home;and individual defilement and moral death in the bad one. Theschoolmaster has really very little to do with the formation of thecharacters of children. These are formed in the home, by the father andmother, --by brothers, sisters, and companions. It does not matter howcomplete may be the education given in schools. It may include the wholerange of knowledge: yet if the scholar is under the necessity of dailyreturning to a home which is indecent, vicious, and miserable, all thislearning will prove of comparatively little value. Character anddisposition are the result of home training; and if these are, throughbad physical and moral conditions, deteriorated and destroyed, theintellectual culture acquired in the school may prove an instrumentalityfor evil rather than for good. 

The home should not be considered merely as an eating and sleepingplace; but as a place where self-respect may be preserved, and comfortsecured, and domestic pleasures enjoyed. Three-fourths of the pettyvices which degrade society, and swell into crimes which disgrace it, would shrink before the influence of self-respect. To be a place ofhappiness, exercising beneficial influences upon its members, --andespecially upon the children growing up within it, --the home must bepervaded by the spirit of comfort, cleanliness, affection, andintelligence. And in order to secure this, the presence of awell-ordered, industrious, and educated woman is indispensable. So muchdepends upon the woman, that we might almost pronounce the happiness orunhappiness of the home to be woman's work. No nation can advance exceptthrough the improvement of the nation's homes; and these can only beimproved through the instrumentality of women. They must _know_ how tomake homes comfortable; and before they can know, they must have beentaught. 

Women must, therefore, have sufficient training to fit them for theirduties in real life. Their education should be conducted throughout, with a view to their future position as wives, mothers, and housewives. But amongst all classes, even the highest, the education of girls israrely conducted with this object. Amongst the working people, the girlsare sent out to work; amongst the higher classes, they are sent out tolearn a few flashy accomplishments; and men are left to pick from them, very often with little judgment, the future wives and mothers ofEngland. 

Men themselves attach little or no importance to the intelligence orindustrial skill of women; and they only discover their value when theyfind their homes stupid and cheerless. Men are caught by the glance of abright eye, by a pair of cherry cheeks, by a handsome figure; and whenthey "fall in love, " as the phrase goes, they never bethink them ofwhether the "loved one" can mend a shirt or cook a pudding. And yet themost sentimental of husbands must come down from his "ecstatics" so soonas the knot is tied; and then he soon enough finds out that the cleverhands of a woman are worth far more than her bright glances; and if theshirt and pudding qualifications be absent, then woe to the unhappy man, and woe also to the unhappy woman! If the substantial element ofphysical comfort be absent from the home, it soon becomes hateful; thewife, notwithstanding all her good looks, is neglected; and thepublic-house separates those whom the law and the Church have joinedtogether. 

Men are really desperately ignorant respecting the home department. Ifthey thought for a moment of its importance, they would not be so readyto rush into premature housekeeping. Ignorant men select equallyignorant women for their wives; and these introduce into the worldfamilies of children, whom they are utterly incompetent to train asrational or domestic beings. The home is no home, but a mere lodging, and often a very comfortless one. 

We speak not merely of the poorest labourers, but of the best-paidworkmen in the large manufacturing towns. Men earning from two to threepounds a week, --or more than the average pay of curates and bankers'clerks, --though spending considerable amounts on beer, will often grudgeso small a part of their income as half-a-crown a week to provide decenthomes for themselves and their children. What is the consequence? Theydegrade themselves and their families. They crowd together, in foulneighbourhoods, into dwellings possessing no element of health ordecency; where even the small rental which they pay is in excess of theaccommodation they receive. The results are inevitable, --loss ofself-respect, degradation of intelligence, failure of physical health, and premature death. Even the highest-minded philosopher, placed in sucha situation, would gradually gravitate towards brutality. 

But the amount thus saved, or rather not expended on house-rent, is noteconomy; it is reckless waste. The sickness caused by the bad dwellinginvolves frequent interruptions of work, and drains upon the SavingsBank or the Benefit Society; and a final and rapid descent to thepoor-rates. Though the loss to the middle and upper classes is great, the loss is not for a moment to be compared with that which falls uponthe working classes themselves, through their neglect in providingwholesome and comfortable dwellings for their families. It is, perhaps, not saying too much to aver, that one-half the money expended by benefitsocieties in large towns, may be set down as pecuniary loss arising frombad and unhealthy homes. 

But there is a worse consequence still. The low tone of physical healththereby produced is one of the chief causes of drunkenness. Mr. Chadwickonce remonstrated with an apparently sensible workman on the expenditureof half his income on whisky. His reply was, "Do you, sir, come and livehere, and you will drink whisky too. " Mr. Leigh says, "I would not beunderstood that habits of intoxication are _wholly_ due to a defectivesanitary condition; but no person can have the experience I have hadwithout coming to the conclusion that _unhealthy_ and unhappyhomes, --loss of _vital_ and consequently of _industrial_ energy, and aconsciousness of inability to control external circumstances, --inducethousands to escape from miserable depression in the temporaryexcitement of noxious drugs and intoxicating liquors. They are like theseamen who struggle for awhile against the evils by which they aresurrounded, but at last, seeing no hope, stupefy themselves with drink, and perish. "

It may be said, in excuse, that working people must necessarily occupysuch houses as are to be had, and pay the rental asked for them, bad andunwholesome though they be. But there is such a thing as supply anddemand; and the dwellings now supplied are really those which are mostin demand, because of their lowness of rental. Were the working classesto shun unwholesome districts, and low-priced dwellings, and rent onlysuch tenements as were calculated to fulfil the requirements of awholesome and cleanly home, the owners of property would be compelled toimprove the character of their houses, and raise them to the requiredstandard of comfort and accommodation. The real remedy must lie with theworking classes themselves. Let them determine to raise their standardof rental, and the reform is in a great measure accomplished. 

We have already shown how masters have done a great deal for the betteraccommodation of their work-people--how the benefactors of the poor, such as Mr. Peabody and Lady Burdett Coutts, have promoted the buildingof healthy homes. Yet the result must depend upon the individual actionof the working classes themselves. When they have the choice of livingin a dwelling situated in a healthy locality, and of another situated inan unhealthy locality, they ought to choose the former. But very oftenthey do not. There is perhaps a difference of sixpence a week in therental, and, not knowing the advantages of health, they take theunhealthy dwelling because it is the cheapest. But the money that sicklypeople have to pay for physic, doctors' bills, and loss of wages, farmore than exceeds the amount saved by cheaper rental, --not to speak ofthe loss of comfort, the want of cleanliness, and the depression ofspirits, which is inevitable where foul air is breathed. 

To build a wholesome dwelling costs little more than to build anunwholesome one. What is wanted on the part of the builder is, aknowledge of sanitary conditions, and a willingness to provide theproper accommodation. The space of ground covered by the dwelling is thesame in both cases; the quantity of bricks and mortar need be nogreater; and pure air is of the same price as foul air. Light costsnothing. 

A healthy home, presided over by a thrifty, cleanly woman, may be theabode of comfort, of virtue, and of happiness. It may be the scene ofevery ennobling relation in family life. It may be endeared to a man bymany delightful memories, by the affectionate voices of his wife, hischildren, and his neighbours. Such a Home will be regarded, not as amere nest of common instinct, but as a training-ground for youngimmortals, a sanctuary for the heart, a refuge from storms, a sweetresting-place after labour, a consolation in sorrow, a pride in success, and a joy at all times. 

Much has been done to spread the doctrines of Sanitary Science. There isno mystery attached to it, otherwise we should have had professorsteaching it in colleges (as we have now), and graduates practising itamongst the people. It is only of recent years that it has receivedgeneral recognition; and we owe it, not to the medical faculty, but to abarrister, that it has become embodied in many important Acts ofParliament. 

Edwin Chadwick has not yet received ordinary justice from hiscontemporaries. Though he has been one of the most indefatigable andsuccessful workers of the age, and has greatly influenced thelegislation of his time, he is probably less known than many afourth-rate parliamentary talker. 

Mr. Chadwick belongs to a Lancashire family, and was born nearManchester. He received his education chiefly in London. Having chosenthe law for his profession, he was enrolled a student of the InnerTemple in his twenty-sixth year. There he "ate his way" to the Bar;maintaining himself by reporting and writing for the daily press. He wasnot a man of an extraordinary amount of learning. But he was a sagaciousand persevering man. He was ready to confront any amount of labour inprosecuting an object, no matter how remote its attainment might atfirst sight appear to be. 

At an early period in his career, Edwin Chadwick became possessed by anidea. It is a great thing to be thoroughly possessed by an idea, provided its aim and end be beneficent. It gives a colour and bias tothe whole of a man's life. The idea was not a new one; but being takenup by an earnest, energetic, and hard-working man, there was some hopefor the practical working out of his idea in the actual life ofhumanity. It was neither more nor less than the Sanitary Idea, --the germof the sanitary movement. 

We must now briefly state how he worked his way to its practicalrealization. It appears that Mr. Morgan, the Government actuary, hadstated before a parliamentary committee, that though the circumstancesof the middle classes had improved, their "expectation of life" had notlengthened. This being diametrically opposed to our student's idea, heendeavoured to demonstrate the fallacy of the actuary's opinion. He readup and sifted numerous statistical documents, --Blue Books, life-tables, and population-tables. He bored his way through the cumbrous pile, andbrought an accumulation of facts from the most unlooked-for quarters, for the purpose of illustrating his idea, and elucidating hismaster-thought. 

The result was published in the _Westminster Review_ for April, 1828. Mr. Chadwick demonstrated, by an immense array of facts and arguments, that the circumstances which surround human beings _must_ have aninfluence upon their health; that health _must_ improve with animprovement of these circumstances; that many of the diseases andconditions unfavourable to human life were under man's control, andcapable of being removed; that the practice of vaccination, thediminution of hard drinking amongst the middle and upper classes, theincrease of habits of cleanliness, the improvements in medical science, and the better construction of streets and houses, _must_, according toall medical and popular experience, have contributed, _à priori_, tolengthen life; and these he proved by a citation of facts from numerousauthentic sources. In short, Mr. Morgan was wrong. The "expectancy oflife, " as is now universally admitted, has improved and is rapidlyimproving amongst the better classes; but it was never thoroughlydemonstrated until Edwin Chadwick undertook the discussion of thequestion. 

Another article, which Mr. Chadwick published in the _London Review_, in1829, on "Preventive Police, " was read by Jeremy Bentham, then in hiseighty-second year, who so much admired it, that he craved anintroduction to the writer. The consequence was the formation of afriendship that lasted without interruption until the death of thephilosopher in 1832. Mr. Bentham wished to engage the whole of his youngfriend's time in assisting him with the preparation of hisAdministrative Code, and he offered to place him in independentcircumstances if he would devote himself exclusively to the advancementof his views. The offer was, however, declined. 

Mr. Chadwick completed his law studies, and was called to the bar inNovember, 1830. He was preparing to enter upon the practice of commonlaw, occasionally contributing articles to the _Westminster_, when hewas, in 1832, appointed a commissioner, in conjunction with Dr. Southwood Smith and Mr. Tooke, to investigate the question of FactoryLabour, which Lord Ashley and Mr. Sadler were at that time stronglypressing upon public attention. The sanitary idea again foundopportunity for expression in the report of the commission, whichreferred to "defective drainage, ventilation, water supply, and thelike, as causes of disease, --acting, concurrently with excessive toil, to depress the health and shorten the lives of the factory population. "

In the same year (1832) an important Commission of Inquiry was appointedby Lord Grey's Government, in reference to the operation of the PoorLaws in England and Wales. Mr. Chadwick was appointed one of theassistant commissioners, for the purpose of taking evidence on thesubject; and the districts of London and Berkshire were allotted to him. His report, published in the following year, was a model of what areport should be. It was full of information, admirably classified andarranged, and was so racy, --by virtue of the facts brought to light, andthe care taken to preserve the very words of the witnesses as they werespoken, --that the report may be read with interest by the mostinveterate enemy of blue-books. 

Mr. Chadwick showed himself so thoroughly a master of the subject, --hissuggestions were so full of practical value, --that he was, shortly afterthe publication of the report, advanced from the post of assistantcommissioner to that of chief commissioner: and he largely shared, withMr. Senior, in the labours and honours of the commissioners' reportsubmitted to the House of Commons in 1834, and also in the famousPoor-Law Amendment Act passed in the same year, in which therecommendations of the commissioners were substantially adopted andformalized. 

One may venture to say now, without fear of contradiction, that that lawwas one of the most valuable that has been placed on the statute-book inmodern times. And yet no law proved more unpopular than this was, foryears after it had been enacted. But Mr. Chadwick never ceased to haveperfect faith in the soundness of the principles on which it was based, and he was indefatigable in defending and establishing it. It has beenwell said, that "to become popular is an easy thing; but to do unpopularjustice, --that requires a Man. " And Edwin Chadwick is the man who hasnever failed in courage to do the right thing, even though it shouldprove to be the unpopular thing. 

Whilst burrowing amidst the voluminous evidence on the Poor Laws, Mr. Chadwick never lost sight of his sanitary idea. All his reports werestrongly imbued with it. One-fourth of the then existing pauperism wastraced by him to the preventible causes of disease. His minuteinvestigations into the condition of the labouring population and of thepoorer classes generally, gave him a thorough acquaintance with thephysical evils that were preying upon the community, carrying them offby fevers, consumption, and cholera; and the sanitary idea took stillfirmer possession of his mind. 

One day, in 1838, while engaged in his official vocation of Secretary tothe Poor-Law Commission, an officer of the Whitechapel Union hastilyentered the Board-room of the Poor-Law Commission, and, with a troubledcountenance, informed the secretary that a terrible fever had broken outround a stagnant pool in Whitechapel; that the people were dying byscores; and that the extreme malignity of the cases gave reason toapprehend that the disease was allied to Asiatic cholera. On hearingthis, the Board, at Mr. Chadwick's instance, immediately appointed Drs. Arnott, Kay, and Southwood Smith to investigate the causes of thisalarming mortality, and to report generally upon the sanitary conditionof London. This inquiry at length ripened into the sanitary inquiry. 

In the meantime, Mr. Chadwick had been engaged as a member of theCommission, to inquire as to the best means of establishing an efficientconstabulary force in England and Wales. The evidence was embodied in areport, as interesting as a novel of Dickens, which afforded a curiousinsight into the modes of living, the customs and habits, of the lowestclasses of the population. When this question had been dismissed, Mr. Chadwick proceeded to devote himself almost exclusively to the greatwork of his life, --the Sanitary Movement. 

The Bishop of London, in 1839, moved in the Lords, that the inquirywhich had been made at Mr. Chadwick's instance by Drs. Southwood Smith, Arnott, and Kay, into the sanitary state of the metropolis, should beextended to the whole population, city, rural, and manufacturing, ofEngland and Wales. Some residents in Edinburgh also petitioned thatScotland might be included; and accordingly, in August, 1839, Lord JohnRussell addressed a letter to the Poor-Law Board, authorizing them byroyal command to extend to the whole of Great Britain the inquiry intopreventible disease, which had already been begun with regard to themetropolis. The onerous task of setting on foot and superintending theinquiry throughout, --of sifting the evidence, and classifying andcondensing it for the purposes of publication, --devolved upon Mr. Chadwick. 

The first Report on the Health of Towns was ready for publication in1842. It _ought_ to have appeared as the Official Report of the Poor-LawBoard; but as the commissioners (some of whom were at variance with Mr. Chadwick with respect to the New Poor-Law) refused to assume theresponsibility of a document that contained much that must necessarilyoffend many influential public bodies, Mr. Chadwick took theresponsibility upon himself, and it was published as _his_report, --which indeed it was, --and accepted from him as such by thecommissioners. 

The amount of dry, hard work encountered by Mr. Chadwick in thepreparation of this and his other reports can scarcely be estimated, except by those who know anything of the labour involved in extractingfrom masses of evidence, written and printed, sent in from all parts ofthe empire, only the most striking results bearing upon the question inhand, and such as are deemed worthy of publication. The mountains ofpaper which Mr. Chadwick has thus bored through in his lifetime musthave been immense; and could they now be presented before him in onepile, they would appal even _his_ stout heart!

The sensation excited throughout the country by the publication of Mr. Chadwick's Sanitary Report was immense. Such a revelation of the horrorslying concealed beneath the fair surface of our modern civilization, hadnever before been published. But Mr. Chadwick had no idea of merelycreating a sensation. He had an object in view, which he persistentlypursued. The report was nothing, unless its recommendations werespeedily carried into effect. A sanitary party was formed; and theministers for the time being, aided by members of both sides inpolitics, became its influential leaders. 

A Sanitary Commission was appointed in 1844, to consider the wholequestion in its practical bearings. The Commission published tworeports, with a view to legislation, but the Free-Trade struggleinterfered, and little was done for several years. Meanwhile oursanitary reformer was occupied as a Commissioner in inquiring into thecondition of the metropolis. The Commission published three reports, inwhich the defective drainage, sewage, and water-supply of London werediscussed in detail; and these have recently been followed by importantacts of legislation. 

The sanitary idea at length had its triumph in the enactment of thePublic Health Act of 1848, and the appointment of a General Board ofHealth (of which Mr. Chadwick was a member) to superintend itsadministration. Numerous supplemental measures have since been enacted, with the view of carrying into practical effect the sanitary principlesadopted by the Board. Reports continued to be published, from time totime, full of valuable information: for instance, in reference to theapplication of Sewage water to agricultural purposes; on EpidemicCholera; on Quarantine; on Drainage; on Public Lodging-houses; and thelike. The sanitary movement, in short, became a "great fact;" and thatit is so, we have mainly to thank Edwin Chadwick--the missionary of theSanitary idea. It is true he was eventually dismissed from his positionof influence at the Board of Health, --partly through spleen, but chieflybecause of his own unaccommodating nature, --unaccommodating especiallyto petty local authorities and individual interests opposed to thepublic good. But with all thinking and impartial men, his characterstands as high as it ever did. At all events, his _works_ remain. 

We do not know a more striking instance than that presented by thisgentleman's career, of the large amount of good which a man stronglypossessed by a beneficent idea can accomplish, provided he have only theforce of purpose and perseverance to follow it up. Though Mr. Chadwickhas not been an actual legislator, he has nevertheless been the mover ofmore wise measures than any legislator of our time. He created a publicopinion in favour of sanitary reform. He has also impressed the minds ofbenevolent individuals with the necessity for providing improveddwellings for the people; and has thus been the indirect means ofestablishing the Peabody Dwellings, the Baroness Coutts' Dwellings, andthe various Societies for erecting improved dwellings for the industrialclasses. 

Edwin Chadwick has thus proved himself to be one of the most useful andpractical of public benefactors. He deserves to be ranked with Clarksonor Howard. His labours have been equally salutary; some will say thatthey have been much more so in their results. 

Sanitary science may be summed up in the one word--Cleanliness. Purewater and pure air are its essentials. Wherever there is impurity, itmust be washed away and got rid of. Thus sanitary science is one of thesimplest and most intelligible of all the branches of human knowledge. Perhaps it is because of this, that, like most common things, it hascontinued to receive so little attention. Many still think that itrequires no science at all to ventilate a chamber, to clean out a drain, and to keep house and person free from uncleanness. 

Sanitary science may be regarded as an unsavoury subject. It deals withdirt and its expulsion--from the skin, from the house, from the street, from the city. It is comprised in the words--wherever there is dirt, getrid of it instantly; and with cleanliness let there be a copious supplyof pure water and of pure air for the purposes of human health. 

Take, for instance, an unhealthy street, or block of streets, in a largetown. There you find typhus fever constantly present. Cleanse and sewerthe street; supply it with pure air and pure water, and fever isforthwith banished. Is not this a much more satisfactory result than theapplication of drugs? Fifty thousand persons, says Mr. Lee, annuallyfall victims to typhus fever in Great Britain, originated by causeswhich are preventible. The result is the same as if these fifty thousandpersons were annually taken out of their wretched dwellings, and put todeath! We are shocked by the news of a murder--by the loss of a singlelife by physical causes! And yet we hear, almost without a shudder, thereiterated statement of the loss of tens of thousands of lives yearlyfrom physical causes in daily operation. The annual slaughter frompreventible causes of typhus fever is double the amount of what wassuffered by the allied armies at the battle of Waterloo! By neglect ofthe ascertained conditions of healthful living, the great mass of thepeople lose nearly half the natural period of their lives. "Typhus, "says a medical officer, "is a curse which man inflicts upon himself bythe neglect of sanitary arrangements. "

Mr. Chadwick affirmed that in the cellars of Liverpool, Manchester, andLeeds, he had seen amongst the operatives more vice, misery, anddegradation than those which, when detailed by Howard, had excited thesympathy of the world. The Irish poor sink into the unhealthy closes, lanes, and back streets of large towns; and so frequent are the attacksof typhus among them, that in some parts of the country the disease isknown as "the Irish fever. " It is not merely the loss of life that is sofrightful; there is also the moral death that is still more appalling inthese unhealthy localities. Vice and crime consort with foul living. Inthese places, demoralization is the normal state. There is an absence ofcleanliness, of decency, of decorum; the language used is polluting, andscenes of profligacy are of almost hourly occurrence, --all tending tofoster idleness, drunkenness, and vicious abandonment. Imagine such amoral atmosphere for women and children!

The connection is close and intimate between physical and moral health, between domestic well-being and public happiness. The destructiveinfluence of an unwholesome dwelling propagates a moral typhus worsethan the plague itself. Where the body is enfeebled by the depressinginfluences of vitiated air and bodily defilement, the mind, almost ofnecessity, takes the same low, unhealthy tone. Self-respect is lost; astupid, inert, languid feeling overpowers the system; the characterbecomes depraved; and too often--eager to snatch even a momentaryenjoyment, to feel the blood bounding in the veins, --the miserablevictim flies to the demon of strong drink for relief; hence misery, infamy, shame, crime, and wretchedness. 

This neglect of the conditions of daily health is a frightfully costlything. It costs the rich a great deal of money in the shape ofpoor-rates, for the support of widows made husbandless, and childrenmade fatherless, by typhus. It costs them also a great deal in disease;for the fever often spreads from the dwellings of the poor into thehomes of the rich, and carries away father, mother, or children. Itcosts a great deal in subscriptions to maintain dispensaries, infirmaries, houses of recovery, and asylums for the destitute. It coststhe poor still more; it costs them their health, which is their onlycapital. In this is invested their all: if they lose it, their docket isstruck, and they are bankrupt. How frightful is the neglect, whether itbe on the part of society or of individuals, which robs the poor man ofhis health, and makes his life a daily death!

Why, then, is not sanitary science universally adopted and enforced? Wefear it is mainly through indifference and laziness. The localauthorities--municipalities and boards of guardians--are so many Mrs. Maclartys in their way. Like that dirty matron, they "canna be fashed. "To remove the materials of disease requires industry, constantattention, and--what is far more serious--increased rates. The foulinterests hold their ground, and bid defiance to the attacks made uponthem. Things did very well, they say, in "the good old times, "--whyshould they not do so now? When typhus or cholera breaks out, they tellus that Nobody is to blame. 

That terrible Nobody! How much he has to answer for. More mischief isdone by Nobody than by all the world besides. Nobody adulterates ourfood. Nobody poisons us with bad drink. Nobody supplies us with foulwater. Nobody spreads fever in blind alleys and unswept lanes. Nobodyleaves towns undrained. Nobody fills gaols, penitentiaries, and convictstations. Nobody makes poachers, thieves, and drunkards. 

Nobody has a theory too--a dreadful theory. It is embodied in twowords--_Laissez faire_--Let alone. When people are poisoned by plasterof Paris mixed with flour, "Let alone" is the remedy. When _Cocculusindicus_ is used instead of hops, and men die prematurely, it is easy tosay, "Nobody did it. " Let those who can, find out when they are cheated:_Caveat emptor_. When people live in foul dwellings, let them alone. Letwretchedness do its work; do not interfere with death. 

"It matters nothing to me, " said a rich man who heard of a poor womanand her sick child being driven forth from a town for begging. Theworkhouse authorities would have nothing to do with her, and sent heraway. But the poor woman went and sat down with her child at the richman's door; the child died there; the contagion of typhus was waftedinto the gilded saloon and the luxurious bed-chamber and the rich man'schild fell a victim to the disease. 

But Nobody has considerably less power in society than he once had: andour hope is, that he may ultimately follow in the wake of Old Bogie, anddisappear altogether. Wherever there is suffering and social depression, we may depend upon it that Somebody is to blame. The responsibilityrests somewhere; and if we allow it to remain, it rests with us. We maynot be able to cope with the evil as individuals, single-handed; but itbecomes us to unite, and bring to bear upon the evil the joint moralpower of society in the form of a law. A Law is but the expression of acombined will; and it does that for society, which society, in itsindividual and separate action, cannot so well or efficiently do foritself. Laws may do too much; they may meddle with things which ought tobe "let alone;" but the abuse of a thing is no proper argument againstits use, in cases where its employment is urgently called for. 

Mere improvement of towns, however, --as respects drainage, sewerage, paving, water supply, and abolition of cellar dwellings, --will effectcomparatively little, unless we can succeed in carrying the improvementfurther, --namely, into the Homes of the people themselves. Awell-devised system of sanitary measures may ensure externalcleanliness, --may provide that the soil on which the streets of housesare built shall be relieved of all superfluous moisture, and that allanimal and vegetable refuse shall be promptly removed, --so that the aircirculating through the streets, and floating from them into the housesof the inhabitants, shall not be laden with poisonous miasmata, thesource of disease, suffering, and untimely death. Cellar dwellings maybe prohibited, and certain regulations as to the buildings hereafter tobe erected may also be enforced. But here municipal or parochialauthority stops: it can go no further; it cannot penetrate into theHome, and it is not necessary that it should do so. 

The individual efforts of the community themselves are therefore needed;and any legislative enactments which dispensed with these would probablybe an evil. The Government does not build the houses in which the peopledwell. These are provided by employers and by capitalists, small andlarge. It is necessary, therefore, to enlist these interests in thecause of sanitary improvement, in order to ensure success. 

Individual capitalists have already done much to provide wholesomehouses for their working people, and have found their account in sodoing, by their increased health, as well as in their moral improvementin all ways. Capitalists imbued with a benevolent and philanthropicspirit can thus spread blessings far and wide. And were a fewenterprising builders in every town to take up this questionpractically, and provide a class of houses for workpeople, with suitableaccommodation; provided with arrangements for ventilation, cleanliness, and separation of the sexes, such as health and comfort require; theywould really be conferring an amount of benefit on the community atlarge, and, at the same time, we believe, upon themselves, which itwould not be easy to overestimate. 

But there also needs the active co-operation of the dwellers in poormen's homes themselves. They, too, must join cordially in the sanitarymovement; otherwise comparatively little good can be effected. You mayprovide an efficient water supply, yet, if the housewife will not usethe water as it ought to be used, --if she be lazy and dirty, --the housewill be foul and comfortless still. You may provide for ventilation, yet, if offensive matters be not removed, and doors and windows are keptclosed, the pure outer air will be excluded, and the house will stillsmell fusty and unwholesome. In any case, there must be a cleanly womanto superintend the affairs of the house; and she cannot be made so byAct of Parliament! The Sanitary Commissioners cannot, by any"Notification, " convert the slatternly shrew into a tidy housewife, northe disorderly drunkard into an industrious, home-loving husband. Theremust, therefore, be individual effort on the part of the housewife inevery working man's Home. As a recent writer on Home Reform observes, --

"We must begin by insisting that, however much of the physical and moralevils of the working classes may be justly attributable to theirdwellings, it is too often the case that more ought, in truth, to beattributed to themselves. For, surely, the inmate depends less on thehouse, than the house on the inmate; as mind has more power over matterthan matter over mind. Let a dwelling be ever so poor and incommodious, yet a family with decent and cleanly habits will contrive to make thebest of it, and will take care that there shall be nothing offensive init which they have power to remove. Whereas a model house, fitted upwith every convenience and comfort which modern science can supply, will, if occupied by persons of intemperate and uncleanly habits, speedily become a disgrace and a nuisance. A sober, industrious, andcleanly couple will impart an air of decency and respectability to thepoorest dwelling; while the spendthrift, the drunkard, or the gamblerwill convert a palace into a scene of discomfort and disgust. Since, therefore, so much depends on the character and conduct of the partiesthemselves, it is right that they should feel their responsibility inthis matter, and that they should know and attend to the various pointsconnected with the improvement of their own Homes. "

While this important truth should be kept steadily in view, everypossible exertion ought, at the same time, to be made to provide agreater abundance of comfortable, decent, and comely dwellings for theworking classes; for it is to be lamented that, in many districts, theyare, as it were, forced by the necessities of their condition togravitate into localities, and to inhabit dwellings where decency isrendered almost impossible, where life becomes a slow dying, and wherethe influences operating on the entire human energies, physical andmoral, are of the most deleterious character. 

Homes are the manufactories of men, and as the Homes are, so will themen be. Mind will be degraded by the physical influences aroundit, --decency will be destroyed by constant contact with impurity anddefilement, --and coarseness of manners, habits, and tastes, will becomeinevitable. You cannot rear a kindly nature, sensitive against evil, careful of proprieties, and desirous of moral and intellectualimprovement, amidst the darkness, dampness, disorder, and discomfortwhich unhappily characterize so large a portion of the dwellings of thepoor in our large towns; and until we can, by some means or other, improve their domestic accommodation, their low moral and socialcondition must be regarded as inevitable. 

We want not only a better class of dwellings, but we require the peopleto be so educated as to appreciate them. An Irish landlord took histenantry out of their mud huts, and removed them into comfortabledwellings which he had built for their accommodation. When he returnedto his estate, he was greatly disappointed. The houses were as untidyand uncomfortable as before. The pig was still under the bed, and thehens over it. The concrete floor was as dirty as the mud one had been. The panes of the windows were broken, and the garden was full of weeds. The landlord wrote to a friend in despair. The friend replied, "You havebegun at the wrong end. You ought to have taught them the value ofcleanliness, thriftiness, and comfort. " To begin at the beginning, therefore, we must teach the people the necessity of cleanliness, itsvirtues and its wholesomeness; for which purpose it is requisite thatthey should be intelligent, capable of understanding ideas conveyed inwords, able to discern, able to read, able to think. In short, thepeople, as children, must first have been to school, and properly taughtthere; whereas we have allowed the majority of the working people togrow up untaught, nearly half of them unable to read and write; and thenwe expect them to display the virtues, prudence, judgment, andforethought of well-educated beings!

It is of the first importance to teach people cleanly habits. This canbe done without teaching them either reading or writing. Cleanliness ismore than wholesomeness. It furnishes an atmosphere of self-respect, andinfluences the moral condition of the entire household. It is the bestexponent of the spirit of Thrift. It is to the economy of the household, what hygiene is to the human body. It should preside at every detail ofdomestic service. It indicates comfort and well-being. It is among thedistinctive attributes of civilisation, and marks the progress ofnations. 

Dr. Paley was accustomed to direct the particular attention oftravellers in foreign countries to the condition of the people asrespects cleanliness, and the local provisions for the prevention ofpollution. He was of opinion that a greater insight might thus beobtained into their habits of decency, self-respect, and industry, andinto their moral and social condition generally, than from facts of anyother description. People are cleanly in proportion as they are decent, industrious, and self-respecting. Unclean people are uncivilized. Thedirty classes of great towns are invariably the "dangerous classes" ofthose towns. And if we would civilize the classes yet uncivilized, wemust banish dirt from amongst them. 

Yet dirt forms no part of our nature. It is a parasite, feeding uponhuman life, and destroying it. It is hideous and disgusting. There canbe no beauty where it is. The prettiest woman is made repulsive by it. Children are made fretful, impatient, and bad-tempered by it. Men aredegraded and made reckless by it. There is little modesty where dirtis, --for dirty is indecency. There can be little purity of mind wherethe person is impure; for the body is the temple of the soul, and mustbe cleansed and purified to be worthy of the shrine within. Dirt has anaffinity with self-indulgence and drunkenness. The sanitary inquirershave clearly made out that the dirty classes are the drunken classes;and that they are prone to seek, in the stupefaction of beer, gin, andopium, a refuge from the miserable depression caused by the foulconditions in which they live. 

We need scarcely refer to the moral as well as the physical beauty ofcleanliness--cleanliness which indicates self-respect, and is the rootof many fine virtues--and especially of purity, delicacy, and decency. We might even go farther, and say that purity of thought and feelingresult from habitual purity of body. For the mind and heart of man are, to a very great extent, influenced by external conditions andcircumstances; and habit and custom, as regards outward things, stampthemselves deeply on the whole character, --alike upon the moral feelingsand the intellectual powers. 

Moses was the most practical of sanitary reformers. Among the easternnations generally, cleanliness is a part of religion. They esteem it notonly as next to godliness, but as a part of godliness itself. Theyconnect the idea of internal sanctity with that of externalpurification. They feel that it would be an insult to the Maker theyworship to come into His presence covered with impurity. Hence theMahommedans devote almost as much care to the erection of baths, as tothat of mosques; and alongside the place of worship is usually found theplace of cleansing, so that the faithful may have the ready means ofpurification previous to their act of worship. 

"What worship, " says a great writer, "is there not in mere washing!perhaps one of the most moral things a man, in common cases, has it inhis power to do. Strip thyself, go into the bath, or were it into thelimpid pool of a running brook, and there wash and be clean; thou wiltstep out again a purer and a better man. This consciousness of perfectouter pureness--that to thy skin there now adheres no foreign speck ofimperfection--how it radiates on thee, with cunning symbolic influencesto thy very soul! thou hast an increased tendency towards all goodthings whatsoever. The oldest eastern sages, with joy and holygratitude, had felt it to be so, and that it was the Maker's gift andwill. "

The common well-being of men, women, and children depends upon attentionto what at first sight may appear comparatively trivial matters. Andunless these small matters be attended to, comfort in person, mind, andfeeling is absolutely impossible. The physical satisfaction of a child, for example, depends upon attention to its feeding, clothing, andwashing. These are the commonest of common things, and yet they are ofthe most essential importance. If the child is not properly fed andclothed, it will grow up feeble and ill-conditioned. And as the childis, so will the man be. 

Grown people cannot be comfortable without regular attention to thesecommon matters. Every one needs, and ought to have, comfort at home; andcomfort is the united product of cleanliness, thrift, regularity, industry, --in short, a continuous performance of duties, each in itselfapparently trivial. The cooking of a potato, the baking of a loaf, themending of a shirt, the darning of a pair of stockings, the making of abed, the scrubbing of a floor, the washing and dressing of a baby, areall matters of no great moment; but a woman ought to know how to dothese, before the management of a household, however poor, is entrustedto her. 

"Why, " asked Lord Ashburton in a lecture to the students of the Wolveseytraining-schools, "why was one mother of a family a better economistthan another? Why could one live in abundance where another starved?Why, in similar dwellings, were the children of one parent healthy, ofanother puny and ailing? Why could this labourer do with ease a taskthat would kill his fellow? It was not luck nor chance that decidedthose differences; it was the patient observation of nature thatsuggested to some gifted minds rules for their guidance which hadescaped the heedlessness of others. "

It is not so much, however, the patient observation of nature, as goodtraining in the home and in the school, that enables some women toaccomplish so much more than others, in the development of human beings, and the promotion of human comfort. And to do this efficiently, women aswell as men require to be instructed as to the nature of the objectsupon which they work. 

Take one branch of science as an illustration--the physiological. Inthis science we hold that every woman should receive some instruction. And why? Because, if the laws of physiology were understood by women, children would grow up into better, healthier, happier, and probablywiser, men and women. Children are subject to certain physiologicallaws, the observance of which is necessary for their health and comfort. Is it not reasonable, therefore, to expect that women should knowsomething of those laws, and of their operation? If they are ignorant ofthem they will be liable to commit all sorts of blunders, productive ofsuffering, disease, and death. To what are we to attribute the frightfulmortality of children in most of our large towns--where one-half of allthat are born perish before they reach their fifth year? If women, aswell as men, knew something of the laws of healthy living, about thenature of the atmosphere, how its free action upon the blood isnecessary to health--of the laws of ventilation, cleanliness, andnutrition, --we cannot but think that the moral, not less than thephysical condition of the human beings committed to their charge, wouldbe greatly improved and promoted. 

Were anything like a proper attention given to common things, therewould not be such an amount of discomfort, disease, and mortalityamongst the young. But we accustom people to act as if there were nosuch provisions as natural laws. If we violate them, we do not escapethe consequences because we have been ignorant of their mode ofoperation. We have been provided with intelligence that we might _know_them; and if society keep its members blind and ignorant, the evilconsequences are inevitably reaped. Thus tens of thousands perish forlack of knowledge of even the smallest, and yet most necessaryconditions of right living. 

Women have also need to be taught the important art of domestic economy. If they do not earn the family income, at least they have to spend themoney earned; and their instruction ought to have a view to the spendingof that money wisely. For this purpose, a knowledge of arithmetic isabsolutely necessary. Some may say, "What use can a woman have forarithmetic?" But when men marry, they soon find this out. If the womanwho has a household to manage be innocent of addition andmultiplication; and if she fail to keep a record of her income orexpenditure, she will, before long, find herself in great trouble. Shewill find that she cannot make the ends meet, and then run into debt. Ifshe spend too much on dress, she will have too little for food oreducation. She will commit extravagances in one direction or another, and thus subject her household to great discomfort. She may also bringher husband into trouble through the debts she has contracted, and makea beginning of his misfortunes and sometimes of his ruin. 

Much might be said in favour of household management, and especially infavour of improved cookery. Ill-cooked meals is a source of discomfortin many families. Bad cooking is waste, --waste of money and loss ofcomfort. Whom God has joined in matrimony, ill-cooked joints andill-boiled potatoes have very often put asunder. Among the "commonthings" which educators should teach the rising generation, this oughtcertainly not to be overlooked. It is the commonest and yet mostneglected of the branches of female education. 

The greater part of human labour is occupied in the direct production ofthe materials for human food. The farming classes and their labourersdevote themselves to the planting, rearing, and reaping of oats andother cereals; and the grazing farmer to the production of cattle andsheep, for the maintenance of the population at large. All thesearticles--corn, beef, mutton, and such-like--are handed over to thefemale half of the human species to be converted into food, for thesustenance of themselves, their husbands, and their families. How dothey use their power? Can they cook? Have they been taught to cook? Isit not a fact that, in this country, cooking is one of the lost orundiscovered arts?

Thousands of artizans and labourers are deprived of half the actualnutriment of their food, and continue half-starved, because their wivesare utterly ignorant of the art of cooking. They are yet in entiredarkness as to the economizing of food, and the means of rendering itpalatable and digestible. 

Even the middle classes are badly served in this respect. "If we couldsee, " says a public writer, "by the help of an Asmodeus, what is goingon at the dinner hour of the humbler of the middle class, --what aspectacle of discomfort, waste, ill-temper, and consequent ill-conductit would be! The man quarrels with his wife because there is nothing hecan eat, and he generally makes up in drink for the deficiencies in thearticle of food. There is thus not only the direct waste of food anddetriment to health, but the further consequent waste of the use ofspirits, with its injury to the habits and the health. "

On the other hand, people who eat well, drink moderately; thesatisfaction of the appetite dispensing with the necessity for resortingto stimulants. Good humour too, and good health, follow a good meal; andby a good meal we mean anything, however simple, well dressed in itsway. A rich man may live very expensively and very ill; and a poor manmay live frugally and very well, if it be his good fortune to have agood cook in his wife or in his servant. 

The most worthless unit in a family is an ill-managing wife, or anindolent woman of any sort. The fair sex are sometimes very acute inwhat concerns themselves. They keep a tight hand over their dressmakersand milliners. They can tell to a thread when a flounce is too narrow ora tuck too deep. But if their knowledge only extends to their own dress, they are not help-meets, but incumbrances. If they know nothing of theirkitchen, and are at the mercy of the cook, their table will soon becomeintolerable. Bad soup, soft and flabby fish, meat burnt outside and rawwithin. The husband will soon fly from the Barmecide feast, and takerefuge in his club, where he will not only find food that he can digest, but at the same time fly from the domestic discord that usuallyaccompanies ill-cooked victuals at home. 

Mr. Smee says that "diseases of the digestive organs greatly exceed inEngland the relative number found in other countries. " The reason is, that in no other country do men eat so much ill-cooked food. The leastobservant of travellers must have been struck with admiration at thereadiness with which a dinner of eight or ten dishes of various eatablesmakes its appearance in foreign inns; particularly when he remembers theperpetual mutton chop and mashed potatoes of the English road. Theauthor remembers arriving at a roadside inn, in a remote part ofDauphiny, immediately under the foot of the Pic du Midi. On looking atthe clay floor, and the worn state of the furniture, he remarked to hisfriend, "Surely we can get no dinner here. " "Wait till you see, " was hisanswer. In about half-an-hour, the table (though propped up) was spreadwith a clean table-cloth; and successive dishes of soup, fowl, "ros-bif, " pomme-de-terre frite, French beans, with wholesome bread andbutter, made their appearance. In the principal inns of most provincialtowns in England, it would not have been possible to obtain such adinner. 

Great would be the gain to the community if cookery were made anordinary branch of female education. To the poor, the gain would beincalculable. "Among the prizes which the Bountifuls of both sexes arefond of bestowing in the country, we should like to see some offered forthe best boiled potato, the best grilled mutton chop, and the bestseasoned hotch-potch, soup, or broth. In writing of a well-boiledpotato, we are aware that we shall incur the contempt of many forattaching importance to a thing they suppose to be so common. But thefact is, that their contempt arises, as is often the origin of contempt, from their ignorance--there being not one person in a hundred who hasever seen and tasted that great rarity--a well-boiled potato. "[1]

[Footnote 1: _Examiner_. ]

In short, we want common sense in cookery, as in most other things. Foodshould be used, and not abused. Much of it is now absolutely wasted, wasted for want of a little art in cooking it. Food is not only wastedby bad cooking; but much of it is thrown away which French women wouldconvert into something savoury and digestible. Health, morals, andfamily enjoyments, are all connected with the question of cookery. Aboveall, it is the handmaid of Thrift. It makes the most and the best of thebounties of God. It wastes nothing, but turns everything to account. Every Englishwoman, whether gentle or simple, ought to be accomplishedin an art which confers so much comfort, health, and wealth upon themembers of her household. 

"It appears to me, " said Mrs. Margaretta Grey, "that with an increase ofwealth unequally distributed, and a pressure of population, there hassprung up amongst us a spurious refinement, that cramps the energy andcircumscribes the usefulness of women in the upper class of society. Alady, to be such, must be a lady, and nothing else.... Ladies dismissedfrom the dairy, the confectionery, the store-room, the still-room, thepoultry-yard, the kitchen-garden, and the orchard" [she might haveadded, the spinning-wheel], "have hardly yet found for themselves asphere equally useful and important in the pursuits of trade and art, towhich to apply their too abundant leisure. 

"When, at any time, has society presented, on the one hand, so large anarray of respectably educated individuals, embarrassed for want of aproper calling, and, on the other, so ponderous a multitude ofuntrained, neglected poor, who cannot, without help, rise out of theirmisery and degradation? What an obstruction to usefulness and alleminence of character is that of being too rich, or too genteellyconnected, to work at anything!"[1]

[Footnote 1: _Memoir of John Grey, of Dalston_. P. 290. ]

Many intelligent, high-minded ladies, who have felt disgusted at theidleness to which "society" condemns them, have of late years undertakenthe work of visiting the poor and of nursing--a noble work. But there isanother school of usefulness which stands open to them. Let them studythe art of common cookery, and diffuse the knowledge of it amongst thepeople. They will thus do an immense amount of good; and bring down theblessings of many a half-hungered husband upon their benevolent heads. Women of the poorer classes require much help from those who are bettereducated, or who have been placed in better circumstances thanthemselves. The greater number of them marry young, and suddenly enterupon a life for which they have not received the slightest preparation. They know nothing of cookery, of sewing or clothes mending, or ofeconomical ways of spending their husbands' money. Hence slatternly anduntidy habits, and uncomfortable homes, from which the husband is oftenglad to seek refuge in the nearest public-house. The following story, told by Joseph Corbett, a Birmingham operative, before a ParliamentaryCommittee, holds true of many working people in the manufacturingdistricts. 

"My mother, " he said, "worked in a manufactory from a very early age. She was clever and industrious, and, moreover, she had the reputation ofbeing virtuous. She was regarded as an excellent match for a workingman. She was married early. She became the mother of eleven children: Iam the eldest. To the best of her ability she performed the importantduties of a wife and mother. But she was lamentably deficient indomestic knowledge. In that most important of all human instruction--howto make the home and the fireside to possess a charm for her husband andchildren--she had never received one single lesson. She had childrenapace. As she recovered from her lying-in, so she went to work, the babebeing brought to her at stated times to receive nourishment. As thefamily increased, so everything like comfort disappeared altogether. Thepower to make home cheerful and comfortable was never given to her. Sheknew not the value of cherishing in my father's mind a love of domesticobjects. Not one moment's happiness did I ever see under my father'sroof. All this dismal state of things I can distinctly trace to theentire and perfect absence of all training and instruction to my mother. He became intemperate; and his intemperance made her necessitous. Shemade many efforts to abstain from shop-work; but her pecuniarynecessities forced her back into the shop. The family was large; andevery moment was required at home. I have known her, after the close ofa hard day's work, sit up nearly all night for several nights togetherwashing and mending clothes. My father could have no comfort there. These domestic obligations, which in a well-regulated house (even inthat of a working man, where there are prudence and good management)would be done so as not to annoy the husband, were to my father a sortof annoyance; and he, from an ignorant and mistaken notion, soughtcomfort in an alehouse. My mother's ignorance of household duties; myfather's consequent irritability and intemperance; the frightfulpoverty; the constant quarrelling; the pernicious example to my brothersand sisters; the bad effect upon the future conduct of my brothers, --oneand all of us being forced out to work so young that our feeble earningswould produce only 1_s_. A week, --cold and hunger, and the innumerablesufferings of my childhood, crowd upon my mind and overpower me. Theykeep alive a deep anxiety for the emancipation of thousands of familiesin this great town (Birmingham) and neighbourhood, who are in a similarstate of horrible misery. My own experience tells me that theinstruction of the females in the work of a house, in teaching them toproduce cheerfulness and comfort at the fireside, would prevent a greatamount of misery and crime. There would be fewer drunken husbands anddisobedient children. As a working man, within my own observation, female education is disgracefully neglected. I attach more importance toit than to anything else; for woman imparts the first impressions to theyoung susceptible mind; she models the child from which is formed thefuture man. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE ART OF LIVING. 

"Deem no man, in any age, Gentle for his lineage. Though he be not highly born, He is gentle if he dothWhat 'longeth to a gentleman. "--_Chaucer_. 

"Every one is the son of his own work. "--_Cervantes_. 

"Serve a noble disposition, though poor; the time comes that he willrepay thee. "--_George Herbert_. 

"Although men are accused for not knowing their own weakness, yetperhaps as few know their own strength. It is in men as in soils, wheresometimes there is a vein of gold, which the owner knows notof. "--_Swift_. 

"Let not what I cannot haveMy cheer of mind destroy. "--_Cibber_. 

 * * * * *

The Art of Living deserves a place among the Fine Arts. Like Literature, it may be ranked with the Humanities. It is the art of turning the meansof living to the best account, --of making the best of everything. It isthe art of extracting from life its highest enjoyment, and, through it, of reaching its highest results. 

To live happily, the exercise of no small degree of art is required. Like poetry and painting, the art of living comes chiefly by nature; butall can cultivate and develop it. It can be fostered by parents andteachers, and perfected by self-culture. Without intelligence, it cannotexist. 

Happiness is not, like a large and beautiful gem, so uncommon and rare, that all search for it is vain, all efforts to obtain it hopeless; butit consists of a series of smaller and commoner gems, grouped and settogether, forming a pleasing and graceful whole. Happiness consists inthe enjoyment of little pleasures scattered along the common path oflife, which, in the eager search for some great and exciting joy, we areapt to overlook. It finds delight in the performance of common duties, faithfully and honourably fulfilled. 

The art of living is abundantly exemplified in actual life. Take two menof equal means, --one of whom knows the art of living, and the other not. The one has the seeing-eye and the intelligent mind. Nature is ever newto him, and full of beauty. He can live in the present, rehearse thepast, or anticipate the glory of the future. With him, life has a deepmeaning, and requires the performance of duties which are satisfactoryto his conscience, and are therefore pleasurable. He improves himself, acts upon his age, helps to elevate the depressed classes, and is activein every good work. His hand is never tired, his mind is never weary. Hegoes through life joyfully, helping others to its enjoyment. Intelligence, ever expanding, gives him every day fresh insight into menand things. He lays down his life full of honour and blessing, and hisgreatest monument is the good deeds he has done, and the beneficentexample he has set before his fellow-creatures. 

The other has comparatively little pleasure in life. He has scarcelyreached manhood, ere he has exhausted its enjoyments. Money has doneeverything that it could for him. Yet he feels life to be vacant andcheerless. Travelling does him no good; for, for him history has nomeaning. He is only alive to the impositions of innkeepers and couriers, and the disagreeableness of travelling for days amidst great mountains, among peasants and sheep, cramped up in a carriage. Picture galleries hefeels to be a bore, and he looks into them because other people do. These "pleasures" soon tire him, and he becomes _blasé_. When he growsold, and has run the round of fashionable dissipations, and there isnothing left which he can relish, life becomes a masquerade, in which herecognizes only knaves, hypocrites, and flatterers. Though he does notenjoy life, yet he is terrified to leave it. Then the curtain falls. With all his wealth, life has been to him a failure, for he has notknown the Art of Living, without which life cannot be enjoyed. 

It is not wealth that gives the true zest to life, --but reflection, appreciation, taste, culture. Above all, the seeing eye and the feelingheart are indispensable. With these, the humblest lot may be made blest. Labour and toil may be associated with the highest thoughts and thepurest tastes. The lot of labour may thus become elevated and ennobled. Montaigne observes that "all moral philosophy is as applicable to avulgar and private life as to the most splendid. Every man carries theentire form of the human condition within him. "

Even in material comfort, good taste is a real economist, as well as anenhancer of joy. Scarcely have you passed the doorstep of your friend'shouse, when you can detect whether taste presides within it or not. There is an air of neatness, order, arrangement, grace, and refinement, that gives a thrill of pleasure, though you cannot define it, or explainhow it is. There is a flower in the window, or a picture against thewall, that marks the home of taste. A bird sings at the window-sill;books lie about; and the furniture, though common, is tidy, suitable, and, it may be, even elegant. 

The art of living extends to all the economies of the household. Itselects wholesome food, and serves it with taste. There is no profusion;the fare may be very humble, but it has a savour about it; everything isso clean and neat, the water so sparkles in the glass, that you do notdesire richer viands, or a more exciting beverage. Look into anotherhouse, and you will see profusion enough, without either taste or order. The expenditure is larger, and yet you do not feel "at home" there. Theatmosphere seems to be full of discomfort. Books, hats, shawls, andstockings in course of repair, are strewn about. Two or three chairs areloaded with goods. The rooms are hugger-mugger. No matter how much moneyis spent, it does not mend matters. Taste is wanting, for the manager ofthe household has not yet learnt the Art of Living. 

You see the same contrast in cottage life. The lot of poverty issweetened by taste. It selects the healthiest, openest neighbourhood, where the air is pure and the streets are clean. You see, at a glance, by the sanded doorstep, and the window-panes without a speck, --perhapsblooming roses or geraniums shining through them, --that the tenantwithin, however poor, knows the art of making the best of his lot. Howdifferent from the foul cottage-dwellings you see elsewhere; with thedirty children playing in the gutters; the slattern-like women loungingby the door-cheek; and the air of sullen poverty that seems to pervadethe place. And yet the weekly income in the former home may be nogreater, perhaps even less, than in that of the other. 

How is it, that of two men, working in the same field or in the sameshop, one is merry as a lark, --always cheerful, well-clad, and as cleanas his work will allow him to be, --comes out on Sunday mornings in hisbest suit, to go to church with his family, --is never without a penny inhis purse, and has something besides in the savings bank, --is a readerof books and a subscriber to a newspaper, besides taking in someliterary journal for family reading; whilst the other man, with equal oreven superior weekly wages, comes to work in the mornings sour andsad, --is always full of grumbling, --is badly clad and badly shod, --isnever seen out of his house on Sundays till about midday, when heappears in his shirt-sleeves, his face unwashed, his hair unkempt, hiseyes bleared and bloodshot, --his children left to run about the gutters, with no one apparently to care for them, --is always at his last coin, except on Saturday night, and then he has a long score of borrowings torepay, --belongs to no club, has nothing saved, but lives literally fromhand to mouth, --reads none, thinks none, but only toils, eats, drinks, and sleeps;--why is it that there is so remarkable a difference betweenthese two men?

Simply for this reason, --that the one has the intelligence and the artto extract joy and happiness from life, --to be happy himself, and tomake those about him happy; whereas the other has not cultivated hisintelligence, and knows nothing whatever of the art of either makinghimself or his family happy. With the one, life is a scene of loving, helping, and sympathizing, --of carefulness, forethought, andcalculation--of reflection, action, and duty;--with the other, it isonly a rough scramble for meat and drink; duty is not thought of, reflection is banished, prudent forethought is never for a momententertained. 

But look to the result; the former is respected by his fellow-workmenand beloved by his family, --he is an example of well-being andwell-doing to all who are within reach of his influence; whereas theother is as unreflective and miserable, as nature will allow him tobe, --he is shunned by good men, --his family are afraid at the sound ofhis footsteps, his wife perhaps trembling at his approach, --he dieswithout leaving any regrets behind him, except, it may be, on the partof his family, who are left to be maintained by the charity of thepublic, or by the pittance doled out by the overseers. 

For these reasons, it is worth every man's while to study the importantArt of living happily. Even the poorest man may by this means extract anincreased amount of joy and blessing from life. The world need not be "avale of tears, " unless we ourselves will it to be so. We have thecommand, to a great extent, over our own lot. At all events, our mind isour own possession; we can cherish happy thoughts there; we can regulateand control our tempers and dispositions to a considerable extent; wecan educate ourselves, and bring out the better part of our nature, which in most men is allowed to sleep a deep sleep; we can read goodbooks, cherish pure thoughts, and lead lives of peace, temperance, andvirtue, so as to secure the respect of good men, and transmit theblessing of a faithful example to our successors. 

The Art of Living is best exhibited in the Home. The first condition ofa happy home, where good influences prevail over bad ones, is Comfort. Where there are carking cares, querulousness, untidiness, slovenliness, and dirt, there can be little comfort either for man or woman. Thehusband who has been working all day, expects to have something as acompensation for his toil. The least that his wife can do for him, is tomake his house snug, clean, and tidy, against his home-coming at eve. That is the truest economy--the best housekeeping--the worthiestdomestic management--which makes the home so pleasant and agreeable, that a man feels when approaching it, that he is about to enter asanctuary; and that, when there, there is no alehouse attraction thatcan draw him away from it. 

Some say that we worship Comfort too much. The word is essentiallyEnglish, and is said to be untranslateable, in its full meaning, intoany foreign language. It is intimately connected with the Fireside. Inwarmer climes, people contrive to live out of doors. They sun themselvesin the streets. Half their life is in public. The genial air woos themforth, and keeps them abroad. They enter their houses merely to eat andsleep. They can scarcely be said to _live_ there. 

How different is it with us! The raw air without, during so many monthsof the year, drives us within doors. Hence we cultivate all manner ofhome pleasures. Hence the host of delightful associations which rise upin the mind at the mention of the word Home. Hence our household god, Comfort. 

We are not satisfied merely with a home. It must be comfortable. Themost wretched, indeed, are those who have no homes--the homeless! Butnot less wretched are those whose homes are without comfort--those ofwhom Charles Lamb once said, "The homes of the very poor are no homes. "It is Comfort, then, that is the soul of the home--its essentialprinciple--its vital element. 

Comfort does not mean merely warmth, good furniture, good eating anddrinking. It means something higher than this. It means cleanliness, pure air, order, frugality, --in a word, house-thrift and domesticgovernment. Comfort is the soil in which the human being grows, --notonly physically, but morally. Comfort lies, indeed, at the root of manyvirtues. 

Wealth is not necessary for comfort. Luxury requires wealth, but notcomfort. A poor man's home, moderately supplied with the necessaries oflife, presided over by a cleanly, frugal housewife, may contain all theelements of comfortable living. Comfortlessness is for the most partcaused, not so much by the absence of sufficient means, as by theabsence of the requisite knowledge of domestic management. 

Comfort, it must be admitted, is in a great measure _relative_. What iscomfort to one man, would be misery to another. Even the commonestmechanic of this day would consider it miserable to live after the styleof the nobles a few centuries ago; to sleep on straw beds, and live inrooms littered with rushes. William the Conqueror had neither a shirt tohis back, nor a pane of glass to his windows. Queen Elizabeth was one ofthe first to wear silk stockings. The Queens before her werestockingless. 

Comfort depends as much on persons as on "things. " It is out of thecharacter and temper of those who govern homes, that the feeling ofcomfort arises, much more than out of handsome furniture, heated rooms, or household luxuries and conveniences. 

Comfortable people are kindly-tempered. Good temper may be set down asan invariable condition of comfort. There must be peace, mutualforbearance, mutual help, and a disposition to make the best ofeverything. "Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalledox and hatred therewith. "

Comfortable people are persons of common sense, discretion, prudence, and economy. They have a natural affinity for honesty and justice, goodness and truth. They do not run into debt, --for that is a species ofdishonesty. They live within their means, and lay by something for arainy day. They provide for the things of their own household, --yet theyare not wanting in hospitality and benevolence on fitting occasions. Andwhat they do, is done without ostentation. 

Comfortable people do everything in order. They are systematic, steady, sober, industrious. They dress comfortably. They adapt themselves to theseason, --neither shivering in winter, nor perspiring in summer. They donot toil after a "fashionable appearance. " They expend more on warmstockings than on gold rings; and prefer healthy, good bedding, to gaudywindow-curtains. Their chairs are solid, not gimcrack. They will bearsitting upon, though they may not be ornamental. 

The organization of the home depends for the most part upon woman. Sheis necessarily the manager of every family and household. How much, therefore, must depend upon her intelligent co-operation! Man's liferevolves round woman. She is the sun of his social system. She is thequeen of domestic life. The comfort of every home mainly depends uponher, --upon her character, her temper, her power of organization, and herbusiness management. A man may be economical; but unless there beeconomy at home, his frugality will be comparatively useless. "A mancannot thrive, " the proverb says, "unless his wife let him. "

House-thrift is homely, but beneficent. Though unseen of the world, itmakes many people happy. It works upon individuals; and by elevatingthem, it elevates society itself. It is in fact a receipt of infallibleefficacy, for conferring the greatest possible happiness upon thegreatest possible number. Without it legislation, benevolence, andphilanthropy are mere palliatives, sometimes worse than useless, becausethey hold out hopes which are for the most part disappointed. 

How happy does a man go forth to his labour or his business, and howdoubly happy does he return from it, when he knows that his means arecarefully husbanded and wisely applied by a judicious and well-managingwife. Such a woman is not only a power in her own house, but her examplegoes forth amongst her neighbours, and she stands before them as a modeland a pattern. The habits of her children are formed after her habits:her actual life becomes the model after which they unconsciously mouldthemselves; for example always speaks more eloquently than words: it isinstruction in action--wisdom at work. 

First amongst woman's qualities is the intelligent use of her hands andfingers. Every one knows how useful, how indispensable to the comfort ofa household, is the tidy, managing, handy woman. Pestalozzi, with hisusual sagacity, has observed, that half the education of a woman comesthrough her fingers. There are wisdom and virtue at her finger-ends. Butintellect must also accompany thrift: they must go hand in hand. A womanmust not only be clever with her fingers, but possessed of the power oforganizing household work. 

There must be Method. The late Sir Arthur Helps observed, that "as womenare at present educated, they are for the most part thoroughly deficientin _method_. But this surely might be remedied by training. To take avery humble and simple instance. Why is it that a man-cook is alwaysbetter than a woman-cook? Simply because a man is more methodical in hisarrangements, and relies more upon his weights and measures. An eminentphysician told me that he thought women were absolutely deficient in theappreciation of time. But this I hold to be merely one instance of theirgeneral want of accuracy, for which there are easy remedies: that is, easy if begun early enough. "

Accordingly, to manage a household efficiently, there must be Method. Without this, work cannot be got through satisfactorily either inoffices, workshops, or households. By arranging work properly, by doingeverything at the right time, with a view to the economy of labour, alarge amount of business can be accomplished. Muddle flies beforemethod; and hugger-mugger disappears. There is also a method inspending--in laying out money, --which is as valuable to the housewife, as method is in accomplishing her work. Money slips through the fingersof some people like quicksilver. We have already seen that many men arespendthrifts. But many women are the same. At least they do not know howto expend their husband's earnings to the best advantage. You observethings very much out of place--frills and ruffles and ill-darnedstockings--fine bonnets and clouted shoes--silk gowns and dirtypetticoats; while the husband goes about ragged and torn, with scarcelya clean thing about him. 

Industry is of course essential. This is the soul of business; but, without method, industry will be less productive. Industry may sometimeslook like confusion. But the methodical and industrious woman getsthrough her work in a quiet, steady style, --without fuss, or noise, ordust-clouds. 

Prudence is another important household qualification. Prudence comesfrom cultivated judgment: it means practical wisdom. It has reference tofitness, to propriety; it judges of the right thing to be done, and ofthe right way of doing it. It calculates the means, order, time, andmethod of doing. Prudence learns much from experience, quickened byknowledge. 

Punctuality is another eminently household qualification. How manygrumblings would be avoided in domestic life, by a little more attentionbeing paid to this virtue. Late breakfasts and late dinners, --"too late"for church and market, --"cleanings" out of time, and "washings"protracted till midnight, --bills put off with a "call againto-morrow, "--engagements and promises unfulfilled, --what a host oflittle nuisances spring to mind, at thought of the unpunctual housewife!The unpunctual woman, like the unpunctual man, becomes disliked, becauseshe consumes our time, interferes with our plans, causes uneasyfeelings, and virtually tells us that we are not of sufficientimportance to cause her to be more punctual. To the business man, timeis money, and to the business woman it is more, --it is peace, comfort, and domestic prosperity. 

Perseverance is another good household habit. Lay down a good plan, andadhere to it. Do not be turned from it without a sufficient reason. Follow it diligently and faithfully, and it will yield fruits in goodseason. If the plan be a prudent one, based on practical wisdom, a llthings will gravitate towards it, and a mutual dependence will graduallybe established among all the parts of the domestic system. 

We might furnish numerous practical illustrations of the truth of theseremarks, but our space is nearly filled up, and we must leave the readerto supply them from his or her own experience. 

There are many other illustrations which might be adduced, of the art ofmaking life happy. The management of the temper is an art full ofbeneficent results. By kindness, cheerfulness, and forbearance, we canbe happy almost at will; and at the same time spread happiness about uson every side. We can encourage happy thoughts in ourselves and others. We can be sober in habit. What can a wife and her children think of anintemperate husband and father? We can be sober in language, and shuncursing and swearing--the most useless, unmeaning, and brutal ofvulgarities. Nothing can be so silly and unmeaning--not to say shocking, repulsive, and sinful--as the oaths so common in the mouths of vulgarswearers. They are profanation without purpose--impiety withoutprovocation--blasphemy without excuse. 

This leads us to remark, in passing, that in this country we are notsufficiently instructed in the Art of Good Manners. We are rather gruff, and sometimes unapproachable. Manners do _not_ make the man, as theproverb alleges; but manners make the man much more agreeable. A man maybe noble in his heart, true in his dealings, virtuous in his conduct, and yet unmannerly. Suavity of disposition and gentleness of mannersgive the finish to the true gentleman. 

By Good Manners we do not mean Etiquette. This is only a conventionalset of rules adopted by what is called "good society;" and many of therules of etiquette are of the essence of rudeness. Etiquette does notpermit genteel people to recognize in the streets a man with a shabbycoat though he be their brother. Etiquette is a liar in its "not athome, "--ordered to be told by servants to callers at inconvenientseasons. 

Good manners include many requisites; but they chiefly consist inpoliteness, courtesy, and kindness. They cannot be taught by rule, butthey may be taught by example. It has been said that politeness is theart of showing men, by external signs, the internal regard we have forthem. But a man may be perfectly polite to another, without necessarilyhaving any regard for him. Good manners are neither more nor less thanbeautiful behaviour. It has been well said that "a beautiful form isbetter than a beautiful face, and a beautiful behaviour is better than abeautiful form; it gives a higher pleasure than statues or pictures; itis the finest of the fine arts. "

Manner is the ornament of action; indeed a good action, without a goodmanner of doing it, is stripped of half its value. A poor fellow getsinto difficulties, and solicits help of a friend. He obtains it, but itis with a "_There_-take that; but I don't like lending. " The help isgiven with a kind of kick, and is scarcely accepted as a favour. Themanner of the giving long rankles in the mind of the acceptor. Thus goodmanners mean kind manners, --benevolence being the preponderating elementin all kinds of pleasant intercourse between human beings. 

A story is told of a poor soldier having one day called at the shop of ahairdresser, who was busy with his customers, and asked relief, --statingthat he had stayed beyond his leave of absence, and unless he could geta lift on the coach, fatigue and severe punishment awaited him. Thehairdresser listened to his story respectfully, and gave him a guinea. "God bless you, sir!" exclaimed the soldier, astonished at the amount. "How can I repay you? I have nothing in the world but this"--pulling outa dirty piece of paper from his pocket; "it is a receipt for makingblacking; it is the best that was ever seen; many a half-guinea I havehad for it from the officers, and many bottles I have sold; may you beable to get something for it to repay you for your kindness to the poorsoldier. " Oddly enough, that dirty piece of paper proved worth half amillion of money to the hairdresser. It was no less than the receipt forthe famous Day and Martin's blacking; the hairdresser being the latewealthy Mr. Day, whose manufactory is one of the notabilities of themetropolis. 

Good manners have been supposed to be a peculiar mark of gentility, andthat the individual exhibiting them has been born in some upper class ofsociety. But the poorest classes may exhibit good manners towards eachother, as well as the richest. One may be polite and kind towardsothers, without a penny in the purse. Politeness goes very far; yet itcosts nothing. It is the cheapest of commodities. But we want to betaught good manners, as well as other things. Some happy natures are "tothe manner born. " But the bulk of men need to be taught manners, andthis can only be efficiently done in youth. 

We have said that working men might study good manners with advantage. Why should they not respect themselves and each other? It is by theirdemeanour towards each other--in other words, by their manners--thatself-respect and mutual respect are indicated. We have been struck bythe habitual politeness of even the poorest classes on the Continent. The workman lifts his cap and respectfully salutes his fellow-workman inpassing. There is no sacrifice of manliness in this, but rather graceand dignity. The working man, in respecting his fellow, respects himselfand his order. There is kindness in the act of recognition, as well asin the manner in which it is denoted. 

We might learn much from the French people in this matter. They are notonly polite to each other, but they have a greater respect for property. Some may be disposed to doubt this, after the recent destruction ofbuildings in Paris. But the Communists must be regarded as altogetherexceptional people; and to understand the French character, we must lookto the body of the population scattered throughout France. There we findproperty much more respected by the people than amongst ourselves. Eventhe beggar respects the fruit by the roadside, although there is nobodyto protect it. The reason of this is, that France is a nation of smallproprietors, --that property is much more generally diffused andexposed, --and parents of even the lowest class educate their children incarefulness of and fidelity to the property of others. 

This respect for property is also accompanied with that respect for thefeelings of others, which constitutes what is called Good Manners. Thisis carefully inculcated in the children of all ranks in France. They arevery rarely rude. They are civil to strangers. They are civil to eachother. Mr. Laing, in his "Notes of a Traveller, " makes these remarks:"This deference to the feelings of others in all that we do is a moralhabit of great value when it is generally diffused, and enters into thehome training of every family. It is an education both of the parent andchild in morals, carried on through the medium of external manners.... It is a fine distinction of the French national character, and of socialeconomy, that practical morality is more generally taught throughmanners, among and by the people themselves, than in any country inEurope. "[1]

[Footnote 1: SAMUEL LAING--_Notes of Traveller, on the Social andPolitical State of France, Prussia, Switzerland, Italy, and other Partsof Europe_, p. 55. ]

The same kindly feeling might be observed throughout the entire socialintercourse of working men with each other. There is not a moment intheir lives in which the opportunity does not occur for exhibiting goodmanners--in the workshop, in the street, and at home. Provided there bea wish to please others by kind looks and ways, the habit of combininggood manners with every action will soon be formed. It is not merely thepleasure a man gives to others by being kind to them: he receivestenfold more pleasure himself. The man who gets up and offers his chairto a woman, or to an old man--trivial though the act may seem, --isrewarded by his own heart, and a thrill of pleasure runs through him themoment he has performed the kindness. 

Workpeople need to practise good manners towards each other the more, because they are under the necessity of constantly living with eachother and amongst each other. They are in constant contact with theirfellow-workmen, whereas the richer classes need not mix with men unlessthey choose, and then they can select whom they like. The working man'shappiness depends much more upon the kind looks, words, and acts ofthose immediately about him, than the rich man's does. It is so in theworkshop, and it is the same at home. There the workman cannot retireinto his study, but must sit amongst his family, by the side of hiswife, with his children about him. And he must either live kindly withthem--performing kind and obliging acts towards his family, --or he mustsee, suffer, and endure the intolerable misery of reciprocal unkindness. 

Admitted that there are difficulties in the way of working mencultivating the art of good manners--that their circumstances are oftenvery limited, and their position unfavourable, yet no man is so poor butthat he can be civil and kind, if he choose; and to be civil and kind isthe very essence of good manners. Even in the most adverse circumstancesa man may try to do his best. If he do--if he speak and act courteouslyand kindly to all, --the result will be so satisfactory, soself-rewarding, that he cannot but be stimulated to persevere in thesame course. He will diffuse pleasure about him in the home, makefriends of his work-fellows, and be regarded with increased kindness andrespect by every right-minded employer. The civil workman will exerciseincreased power amongst his class, and gradually induce them to imitatehim by his persistent steadiness, civility, and kindness. Thus BenjaminFranklin, when a workman, reformed the habits of an entire workshop. 

Then, besides the general pleasure arising from the exercise of GoodManners, there is a great deal of healthful and innocent pleasure to bederived from amusements of various kinds. One cannot be always working, eating, and sleeping. There must be time for relaxation--time for mentalpleasures--time for bodily exercise. 

There is a profound meaning in the word Amusement; much more than mostpeople are disposed to admit. In fact, amusement is an important part ofeducation. It is a mistake to suppose that the boy or the man who playsat some outdoor game is wasting his time. Amusement of any kind is notwasting time, but economizing life. 

Relax and exercise frequently, if you would enjoy good health. If you donot relax, and take no exercise, the results will soon appear in bodilyailments, which always accompany sedentary occupations. "The students, "says Lord Derby, "who think they have not time for bodily exercise, willsooner or later find time for illness. "

There are people in the world who would, if they had the power, hang theheavens about with crape; throw a shroud over the beautiful andlife-giving bosom of the planet; pick the bright stars from the sky;veil the sun with clouds; pluck the silver moon from her place in thefirmament; shut up our gardens and fields, and all the flowers withwhich they are bedecked; and doom the world to an atmosphere of gloomand cheerlessness. There is no reason nor morality in this, and there isstill less religion. 

A benevolent Creator has endowed man with an eminent capacity forenjoyment, --has set him in a fair and lovely world, surrounded him withthings good and beautiful, --and given him the disposition to love, tosympathize, to help, to produce, to enjoy; and thus to become anhonourable and a happy being, bringing God's work to perfection, andenjoying the divine creation in the midst of which he lives. 

Make a man happy, and his actions will be happy too; doom him to dismalthoughts and miserable circumstances, and you will make him gloomy, discontented, morose, and probably vicious. Hence coarseness and crimeare almost invariably found amongst those who have never been accustomedto be cheerful, whose hearts have been shut against the purifyinginfluences of a happy communion with nature, or an enlightened andcheerful intercourse with man. 

Man has a strong natural appetite for relaxation and amusement, and, like all other natural appetites, it has been implanted for a wisepurpose. It cannot be repressed, but will break out in one form oranother. Any well-directed attempt to promote an innocent amusement, isworth a dozen sermons against pernicious ones. If we do not provide theopportunity for enjoying wholesome pleasures, men will certainly findout vicious ones for themselves. Sydney Smith truly said, "In order toattack vice with effect, we must set up something better in its place. "

Temperance reformers have not sufficiently considered how much thedrinking habits of the country are the consequences of gross tastes, andof the too limited opportunities which exist in this country forobtaining access to amusements of an innocent and improving tendency. The workman's tastes have been allowed to remain uncultivated; presentwants engross his thoughts; the gratification of his appetites is hishighest pleasure; and when he relaxes, it is to indulge immoderately inbeer or whisky. The Germans were at one time the drunkenest of nations;they are now amongst the soberest. "As drunken as a German boor, " was acommon proverb. How have they been weaned from drink? Principally byEducation and Music. 

Music has a most humanizing effect. The cultivation of the art has amost favourable influence upon public morals. It furnishes a source ofpleasure in every family. It gives home a new attraction. It makessocial intercourse more cheerful. Father Mathew followed up hisTemperance movement by a Singing movement. He promoted the establishmentof musical clubs all over Ireland: for he felt that, as he had taken thepeople's whisky from them, he must give them some wholesome stimulus inits stead. He gave them Music. Singing classes were established, torefine the taste, soften the manners, and humanize the mass of the Irishpeople. But we fear that the example set by Father Mathew has alreadybeen forgotten. 

"What a fulness of enjoyment, " says Channing, "has our Creator placedwithin our reach, by surrounding us with an atmosphere which may beshaped into sweet sounds! And yet this goodness is almost lost upon us, through want of culture of the organ by which this provision is to beenjoyed. "

How much would the general cultivation of the gift of music improve usas a people! Children ought to learn it in schools, as they do inGermany. The voice of music would then be heard in every household. Ourold English glees would no longer be forgotten. Men and women might singin the intervals of their work, --as the Germans do in going to andcoming from their wars. The work would not be worse done, because it wasdone amidst music and cheerfulness. The breath of society would besweetened, and pleasure would be linked with labour. 

Why not have some elegance in even the humblest home? We must of coursehave cleanliness, which is the special elegance of the poor. But why nothave pleasant and delightful things to look upon? There is no reason whythe humbler classes should not surround themselves with the evidences ofbeauty and comfort in all their shapes, and thus do homage alike to thegifts of God and the labours of man. The taste for the beautiful is oneof the best and most useful endowments. It is one of the handmaids ofcivilization. Beauty and elegance do not necessarily belong to the homesof the rich. They are, or ought to be, all-pervading. Beauty in allthings, --in nature, in art, in science, in literature, in social anddomestic life. 

How beautiful and yet how cheap are flowers. Not exotics, --but what arecalled common flowers. A rose, for instance, is among the most beautifulof the smiles of nature. The "laughing flowers, " exclaims the poet! Butthere is more than gaiety in blooming flowers, though it takes a wiseman to see the beauty, the love, and the adaptation, of which they arefull. 

What should we think of one who had _invented_ flowers; supposing that, before him, flowers were unknown? Would he not be regarded as theopener-up of a paradise of new delight? should we not hail the inventoras a genius, as a god? And yet these lovely offsprings of the earth havebeen speaking to man from the first dawn of his existence until now, telling him of the goodness and wisdom of the Creative Power, which badethe earth bring forth, not only that which was useful as food, --but alsoflowers, the bright consummate flowers, to clothe it in beauty and joy!

Bring one of the commonest field-flowers into a room, place it on atable or chimneypiece, and you seem to have brought a ray of sunshineinto the place. There is a cheerfulness about flowers. What a delightare they to the drooping invalid! They are like a sweet draught ofenjoyment, coming as messengers from the country, and seeming to say, "Come and see the place where we grow, and let your heart be glad in ourpresence. "

What can be more innocent than flowers! They are like children undimmedby sin. They are emblems of purity and truth, a source of fresh delightto the pure and innocent. The heart that does not love flowers, or thevoice of a playful child, cannot be genial. It was a beautiful conceitthat invented a language of flowers, by which lovers were enabled toexpress the feelings that they dared not openly speak. But flowers havea voice for all, --old and young, rich and poor. "To me, " saysWordsworth, "The meanest flower that blows can giveThoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. "

Have a flower in the room, by all means! It will cost only a penny, ifyour ambition is moderate; and the gratification it gives will be beyondprice. If you can have a flower for your window so much the better. Whatcan be more delicious than the sun's light streaming throughflowers--through the midst of crimson fuchsias or scarlet geraniums? Tolook out into the light through flowers--is not that poetry? And tobreak the force of the sunbeams by the tender resistance of greenleaves? If you can train a nasturtium round the window, or some sweetpeas, then you will have the most beautiful frame you can invent for thepicture without, whether it be the busy crowd, or a distant landscape, or trees with their lights and shades, or the changes of the passingclouds. Any one may thus look through flowers for the price of an oldsong. And what pure taste and refinement does it not indicate on thepart of the cultivator! A flower in the window sweetens the air, makesthe room look graceful, gives the sun's light a new charm, rejoices theeye, and links nature with beauty. The flower is a companion that willnever say a cross thing to any one, but will always look beautiful andsmiling. Do not despise it because it is cheap, and because everybodymay have the luxury as well as yourself. Common things are cheap, butcommon things are invariably the most valuable. Could we only have freshair or sunshine by purchase, what luxuries they would be considered; butthey are free to all, and we think little of their blessings. 

There is, indeed, much in nature that we do not yet half enjoy, becausewe shut our avenues of sensation and feeling. We are satisfied with thematter of fact, and look not for the spirit of fact, which is above it. If we opened our minds to enjoyment, we might find tranquil pleasuresspread about us on every side. We might live with the angels that visitus on every sunbeam, and sit with the fairies who wait on every flower. We want more loving knowledge to enable us to enjoy life, and we requireto cultivate the art of making the most of the common means andappliances for enjoyment, which lie about us on every side. 

A snug and a clean home, no matter how tiny it be, so that it bewholesome; windows into which the sun can shine cheerily; a few goodbooks (and who need be without a few good books in these days ofuniversal cheapness?)--no duns at the door, and the cupboard wellsupplied, and with a flower in your room! There is none so poor as notto have about him these elements of pleasure. 

But why not, besides the beauty of Nature, have a taste for the beautyof Art? Why not hang up a picture in the room? Ingenious methods havebeen discovered--some of them quite recently--for almost infinitelymultiplying works of art, by means of wood engravings, lithographs, photographs, and autotypes, which render it possible for every person tofurnish his rooms with beautiful pictures. Skill and science have thusbrought Art within reach of the poorest. 

Any picture, print, or engraving, that represents a noble thought, thatdepicts a heroic act, or that brings a bit of nature from the fields orthe streets into our room, is a teacher, a means of education, and ahelp to self-culture. It serves to make the home more pleasant andattractive. It sweetens domestic life, and sheds a grace and beautyabout it. It draws the gazer away from mere considerations of self, andincreases his store of delightful associations with the world without, as well as with the world within. 

The portrait of a great man, for instance, helps us to read his life. Itinvests him with a personal interest. Looking at his features, we feelas if we knew him better, and were more closely related to him. Such aportrait, hung up before us daily, at our meals and during our leisurehours, unconsciously serves to lift us up and sustain us. It is a linkthat in some way binds us to a higher and nobler nature. 

It is said of a Catholic money-lender that when about to cheat, he waswont to draw a veil over the face of his favourite saint. Thus theportraiture of a great and virtuous man is in some measure acompanionship of something better than ourselves; and though we may notreach the standard of the hero, we may to a certain extent be influencedby his likeness on our walls. 

It is not necessary that a picture should be high-priced in order to bebeautiful and good. We have seen things for which hundreds of guineashave been paid, that have not one-hundredth part of the meaning orbeauty that is to be found in Linton's woodcut of Rafaelle's Madonna, which may be had for twopence. The head reminds one of the observationmade by Hazlitt upon a picture, that it seems as if an unhandsome actwould be impossible in its presence. It embodies the ideas of mother'slove, womanly beauty, and earnest piety. As some one said of thepicture: "It looks as if a bit of Heaven were in the room. "

Picture-fanciers pay not so much for the merit, as for the age and therarity of their works. The poorest may have the _seeing eye_ for beauty, while the rich man may be blind to it. The cheapest engraving maycommunicate the sense of beauty to the artizan, while thethousand-guinea picture may fail to communicate to the millionaireanything, --excepting perhaps the notion that he has got possession of awork which the means of other people cannot compass. 

Does the picture give you pleasure on looking at it? That is one goodtest of its worth. You may grow tired of it; your taste may outgrow it, and demand something better, just as the reader may grow out ofMontgomery's poetry into Milton's. Then you will take down the daub, andput up a picture with a higher idea in its place. There may thus be asteady progress of art made upon the room walls. If the pictures can beput in frames, so much the better; but if they cannot, no matter; upwith them! We know that Owen Jones says it is not good taste to hangprints upon walls--he would merely hang room papers there. But OwenJones may not be infallible; and here we think he is wrong. To our eyes, a room always looks unfurnished, no matter how costly and numerous thetables, chairs, and ottomans, unless there be pictures upon the walls. 

It ought to be, and no doubt it is, a great stimulus to artists to knowthat their works are now distributed in prints and engravings, todecorate and beautify the homes of the people. The wood-cutter, thelithographer, and the engraver, are the popular interpreters of thegreat artist. Thus Turner's pictures are not confined to the wealthypossessors of the original works, but may be diffused through all homesby the Millars, and Brandards, and Wilmotts, who have engraved them. Thus Landseer finds entrance, through woodcuts and mezzotints, intoevery dwelling. Thus Cruikshank preaches temperance, and Ary Schefferpurity and piety. The engraver is the medium by which art in the palaceis conveyed into the humblest homes in the kingdom. 

The Art of Living may be displayed in many ways. It may be summed up inthe words, --Make the best of everything. Nothing is beneath its care;even common and little things it turns to account. It gives a brightnessand grace to the home, and invests Nature with new charms. Through it, we enjoy the rich man's parks and woods, as if they were our own. Weinhale the common air, and bask under the universal sunshine. We gloryin the grass, the passing clouds, and the flowers. We love the commonearth, and hear joyful voices through all Nature. It extends to everykind of social intercourse. It engenders cheerful goodwill and lovingsincerity. By its help we make others happy, and ourselves blest. Weelevate our being and ennoble our lot. We rise above the grovellingcreatures of earth, and aspire to the Infinite. And thus we link time toeternity; where the true Art of Living has its final consummation. 

INDEX. 

ABERDARE, Lord, on loss by strikesAdvancement of self is advancement of societyAiton, Dr. , an example of thriftAkroyd, Edward, founds Provident Society and Penny Savings Bank and his workpeople and Penny BanksAmbition, use ofAmusement, meaning and use ofArithmetic, necessary for domestic economyAshburton, Lord, on home economyAshworth, Messrs. , and their workpeopleAuthor's mother, an example of thriftAvarice, differs from economy

BACON, on limits of economy his improvidenceBargain-buying, bad economy ofBaxendale, Joseph on punctuality and Pickford and Co. And railways his maximsBewick, the engraverBilston Savings BankBrassey. T. , on English work-menBrewster, D. , on educationBriggs and Son, and co-operationBright, John, on the wages of the working classesBrutus, and usuryBuchan, Earl of, an example of thriftBuilding Societies at Birmingham at Leeds at Padiham at BurnleyBurnley, Building Society atBurns, and debtByron, and debt

CAMPBELL, Dr. , the missionaryCanova, humble origin ofCapital, the result of industry and thrift advantage of, to workmen employedCarlyle, T. , on manufacturers his letter to Whitworth on public charitiesCarrington, Lord, and PittCato, the elder, and usuryChadwick, Edwin, sketch of his life his Sanitary Idea and Poor Law Inquiry and the Sanitary Movement and General Board of Health on thriftlessnessChantrey, F. Charities, publicChristianity, its establishmentCivilization, and thrift slow progress of and healthy homesClass, exclusiveness ofCleanliness, must be taughtCobbett, W. , on Savings BanksCobden, R. , on self-helpCold, the parent of frugalityComfort, and the art of livingCompetition, use ofCooking, good and badCo-operation, the secret of social development and the middle classes and working classes Fishery tin-mining at Hull at Leeds at Rochdale at Over Darwen at Northampton at Padiham, Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds and life assurance and friendly societies and factoriesCorbett, J. , on ignorance of domestic economyCrallan, and lessons on thriftCrossley, Francis, and Halifax ParkCrossley, John, sketch of his life his wife his work

DANTZIC, Duke ofDavis, John, on debtDebt, evils of sympathy with and great menDebtors, celebrated, Bacon, Pitt Melville, Fox Sheridan De Retz, Mirabeau, Lamartine, Webster Hunter, Vandyck Hayden Cowper, Marlowe, Greene, Peele Lovelace, Butler, Wycherley, Fielding, Savage Chatterton Steele Goldsmith Byron Foote De Foe ScottDeeds, not wordsDenison, Edward, on providence on London poor on thrift on thrift in GuernseyDerby, Lord, on progressDerby Penny BankDe Retz, CardinalDirt, a degradationDolland, industry ofDonne, Dr. , his charity and thriftDonough, J. , tombstone ofDress, extravagance inDrill, the magic ofDrink, money spent on the Great Sin and unhealthy homesDuncan, H. , and Savings Banks

ECONOMY, _see_ ThriftEducation, power of is capital advantage of in GermanyElcho, Lord, on miners' wagesElegance at homeElliot, Sir G. , and minersEngland, one hundred years agoEnglish charitiesEnglish workmanshipEnglishmen, industry and improvidence ofExtravagance, prevalence of

FAILURE, self-soughtFarnham Penny BankFast living, tendency toFelkin, on workmen's savingsFerguson Charity, theFerguson, the astronomerFlaxman, the sculptorFlowers, use ofFoote, and debtForster, W. E. , on ListerFox, Head, and Co. , and cooperationFox, C. J. , and debtFranklin, B. , on thrift of time on self-imposed taxes his industryFriendly societies defects of working of objections to improvement ofFunerals, extravagance of

GENEROSITY, and economyGirard Charity, theGhent, School Bank atGibbon, on FoxGoethe, on individualismGoldsmith, O. , and debtGood manners, art of among working classesGood taste, economy of and comfortGrey, Margaretta, on occupation of ladiesGreenock Penny BankGreg, W. B. , on savings of working classesGregory, O. , on self-taught working menGriffiths, on pursuit of moneyGrundy, Mrs. , fear ofGuizot, on English CharitiesGuy's Hospital

HALIFAX PENNY BANKHappiness in old ageHealth, pleasures of, 315; injuries to. 316-7Heriot's Hospital, 309Herschel, his industry. 77Hill, Rowland, and Savings Banks, 149-50Hogarth. 80Home and civilization. 321; and children. 322; ignorance concerning, 323-4; reform, 340-1Huddersfield Savings Bank, 154Hull Anti-Mill Society, 102Hume, H. , and thrift, 68Hume, J. , on tone of living, 17Hunter, J. , and debt, 269Hutton, Dr. , 73

IDLENESS, wretchedness of, 6Ignorance is power, 57-9Improvidence, _see_ ThriftlessnessInchbald, Mrs. , on thrift, 65Incomes of the working classes, 41-9Independence of a good mechanic, 50Individualism, 72-3Industry, _see_ Labour

JOHNSON, S. , on economy, 19; on poverty, 20; on Savage, 272; his poverty, 282-3; on debt, 283Jonson, B. , and poverty, 271

KEPLER, and poverty, 268Knowledge, acquired by labour, 6

LABOUR, leads to wealth, 2; is never lost, 3; a necessity and pleasure, 4; St. Paul on, 6; gives knowledge, 6; and progress, 7; of English workmen, 36; and thrift, 96, 184; makes the man, 160Laing, S. , on good manners in France, 368Lamartine and debt, 267Lancaster, J. , and Sunday schoolsLand and Building SocietiesLeeds, Industrial Society Permanent Building SocietyLife assurance, advantages of working of at a penny a dayLife, uncertainty ofLister, of BradfordLittle things, importance ofLiving, art ofLoan SocietiesLough, the sculptor, sketch of his lifeLuck, means good management does not make menLytton, Lord, on money on public charities

MACAULAY, on PitMacdonald, A. Manchester, Bishop of, on agricultural labourersManchester Co-operative Bank Unity of Odd FellowsMarlborough, Duke of, his penuriousnessMarriage, responsibility of makes economy a duty imprudentMasters, influence of want of sympathy between men andMeans, living beyondMechanics' InstitutesMelville, Lord, and debtMethod, a masculine quality value ofMiddle class, co-operation amongMill, J. S. , on combination on dollar-huntersMiller, Hugh, on thrift his industryMilton, J. , and povertyMirabeau, and debtMisery, caused by greed and improvidence of the man of nothing but moneyMoney, represents independence mistake as to power of worship of accumulation of dissipated by the third generationMontaigne, on debtMortality, laws ofMoses, a sanitary reformer

NAPIER, C. , on debtNasmyth, J. , sketch of his life his active leisureNational prosperity is not real prosperityNavvy's Home, a failureNewman, on debtNightingale, F. , and soldiers' savingsNo, ability to sayNobody to blameNorris, on minersNorthampton Co-operative Society

ORDEROvercrowdingOver Darwen Co-operative Society

PADIH AM, Co-operative Cotton-mill Building SocietyPastoral life, a mythPeabody benefaction, thePenny a day, power of aPenny Bank, Akroyd's at Greenock at Halifax at Glasgow at FarnhamPennies, taking care of thePhysiology, should be taughtPickford and Co. , _see_ BaxendalePictures, use ofPitt, and debtPost Office Savings BanksPounds, John, and Ragged SchoolsPoverty, not a disgrace sharpens wits the skeleton in the closetPreston Savings BankPrimogeniture, Right of, causes struggle for wealthProdigality, _see_ ThriftlessnessProgress and labour of individuals and nationsProsperity, leads to greater expenditurePunctuality, Baxendale on a household quality

QUECKETT, on Penny BanksQuentin Matsys, industry of

RAGGED SCHOOLS and Penny Banks foundation ofRamsay, AllanReady-money transactionsReform of Number One of homeRepublican millionairesRespectability, abuse ofRich man, the troubles of theRichardson, S. Rochdale, co-operative corn-mill Equitable Pioneers SocietyRoebuck, J. A. , on the working classesRural districts, unwholesome condition of ignorance inRussell, Lord, on self-imposed taxesRuthven Savings Bank

SALADIN, on wealthSalamanca, Jose de, on love of goldSalt, T. , sketch of his life founds Saltaire and his workpeopleSaltaireSanitary scienceSavings Banks the first at Ruthven used by domestic servants used most where wages are lowest used by soldiers military at Bilston Penny school increase of Post Office statistics ofSavings, _see_ ThriftScholarship in the School of MinesScotch charitiesScott, W. , and debtSelf-help, means self-respectSharp, W. Sheridan, and debtSikes. C. W. , on thriftlessness on Savings Banks and Post Office Savings Banks sketch of his lifeSlavery, in Britain in England in ScotlandSmith, Joseph, starts a Savings BankSmith, Sydney, and povertySociety, living up to higherSocrates, on thriftSouthey, his industrySpinoza, and povertySteele, R. , and debtSteen, Jan, and debtStephenson, GeorgeSterne, and povertyStone, on public charitiesStrikes, losses by, 47, 98-100Sully, Duke of, on economy, 93Sympathy between masters and men, want of, 180-83

Tact, want of, 95Tassie, sculptor, 80Taxes, self-imposed, 39Taylor, J. , on reputation of man of money, 294Thrift, origin and definition of, 1; an acquired principle, 8; gives Capital, 10; is within reach of all, 11-3; of time, 12; needs common sense. 13; needs a beginning, 14; is a duty, 14; in youth, 18; is practical, 19; dignity of, 20; in Guernsey, 35; object of, 65; is Order, 66; of upper classes, 67; rules for, 89; limits of, 90; is a dignity and satisfaction, 93; is conservative, 107-8; and building societies, 109; of Frenchmen and Belgians, 115; of private soldiers, 133-5; lessons in, 145-6; of great generals, 192; of French workmen, 231-2; leads to Charity, 286Thriftlessness, of savages, 2; of nations, 9; of individuals, 10; selfishness of, 14; dependence of, 16; cruelty of, 17, 112; in prosperous times, 26, 30; of English workmen, 36-7, 41-57, 91, 139Tottenham Savings Bank, 127Trades Unions, 99-100Typhus, a preventible disease, 335

UNCIVILIZED condition of the poor, 32

VENTILATION

WAGES of working classesWakefield, P. , and Savings BanksWalker, RobertWalpole, Horace, on bargainsWalter, J. , on pride in workWashington, G. , and slavesWaterlow, S. Watt, JamesWealth, by labour and povertyWellington, Duke of, on military Savings BanksWesley J. , his account-keepingWhitworth, J. , and co-operationWinckelmannWoman, influence ofWomen, require to be taught physiology domestic economy arithmetic cookingWorking-men, definition of thriftlessness of wages of extravagance of want of self-respect among neglect opportunities want knowledge co-operation among strikes among their ability to save do not much _use_ the Savings BanksWycherley, and debt