P^^^^^^MS/IS-^ <%r< # LIBRARY OF CONGRESS .? $ # | UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, | ^ C C C < — « f < < . << O t. < C • c < • . « < C < << O . . Cc c< > << cc ^ r C< :, *£ c *: i c . x c < <*r o < - ' cc : ex c c c< o <3 < < c\ C C ex C ' Cc c <. CK' c Co c< cic ( re ' C v < < cc - < S^ CC c •< cc «~~sC~ C c Cc c«b C .C CC < CC r CC c < CC s^ c c C c CC C< < < m cc c c_ c OCT c c < ccr cc c: c c c _c C ' *^» C C ccr d cc: C < c c c «r c c c c <; C C C c C c. C c XXL Illustration of Confusion of Local Government 42 XXII. System supported by the Strength of Vested Interest 43, CONTENTS xi PAGE XXIII. Tendency of Knaves and Fools to Municipal Government ... 45 XXIV. The Fatal Results of Negligence of the Duties of Citizenship . . 46 XXV. Patriotic Duty 49 XXVI. Appeal 50 XXVII. The English Poor . . . . 51 XXVIII. The City and Town Population . . 53 XXIX. The Agricultural Labourers . . 58 XXX. Story of a Farm Labourer at Ludlow 60 XXXI. The Poor Laws and Pauperism . 61 XXXII. The Four Principal Perils of English Society 68 XXXIII. First Danger : The Relation of the Working Man to Politics and Capital 69 XXXIV. The Trades Unions . . . .71 XXXV. The Battle between Capital and Labour 72 xii CONTENTS PAGE XXXVI. Drink and Pauperism . . . .79 XXXVII. The Fourth Danger : Deficiency of Incitements to Thrift . . 80 XXXVIII. The Inherent Greatness and Strength of England indicated by the Steadiness of her Pro- gress in Reform . . . .86 XXXIX. Reform in England is slow and STEADY 90 Glances at Inner England. OUTER ENGLAND. Oy the crowds of Americans who land at 0uter Liverpool, and overrun the little island they threaten some day to annex, few can claim to have seen what I am going to disclose to you of the England of to-day. They of course remark a good deal that is curious, a good deal that is odd, a good deal that is splendid, a good deal that is squalid ; they will form no mean ideas of the strength, the wealth, the glory of Britain. Glancing from car or carriage window over a landscape which seems to eyes accustomed to the grand proportions of New World scenery to be exquisitely dwarfed, 2 , GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. bright with strangely-vivid green, ranged in mosaics of variously coloured earth and crops parcelled out in charming diversities of shape into what appear to be little garden fields — its trees and plantations studded over hill and dale with a natural skill or by a most artistic chance, the traveller regards the picturesque and romantic aspects of England. Here a ruin, that mayhap of Rievaulx Abbey, lying in some verdant vale, embosomed in richly- wooded hills, with its unroofed aisles and nave and choir, its crumbling towers, the long ranges of its clustered columns and bended arches, the straggling remnants of its once elaborate cloisters, while over all, here and there, the solemn, slow-sprent ivy crowns with eternalising chaplets the worn-out glory of monasticism : there a castle, like that of Ludlow, the ancient stronghold of the Lords of the Marches, towering over delicious vales — typical together of manly strength and feminine beauty — recalling a tyranny and a chivalry to- gether and for ever gone : the mind, as one stands there reviewing the long historic, literary, and political memories of those grey stones, fall- OUTER ENGLAND. ing into a sweet confusion of romantic visions, and revelling amid the combined influences of nature and of fancy. Or, there again, some noble Hall — like Castle Howard, or Chats- worth, or Trentham — homes for princes, the product of an intermediate era of classical taste, with broad grand wings and rich facade, its porches and colonnades flashing to view amid scenes of sylvan loveliness so fair, so Eden-like, as to transport the soul with an unwicked envy of those who can command and enjoy such beauties this side heaven, and with wonder at the wealth of a nation so many of whose nobles can dwell in royal palaces. Or here, once more, is a village, the first foundations of whose humble homes were laid a thousand years ago, dozing in some bowery hollow, with weather-tinted cottages, all thatched and gabled and dormered in quaint angles and slopes, its dilapidated windmill, its yew-decked churchyard, and the Gothic tower or spire that peeps above the ancient trees. In these and a thousand other such scenes may you look upon merry England and yet *B 2 4 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. not see what I would have you see of the England of to-day. Or here, presto, with a sudden whirl — the scene changes — Tower'd cities please us then, And the busy hum of men. Here are great towns, composite of old and new, with their huge factory barracks of brick and stone, their tall chimneys vomiting the smoke which overshadows the life beneath, with dingy, crowded homes, where every dweller and every room suggests a new problem of society : with roaring furnaces at which smudgy men perform feats Enceladan with iron and flame, and humanity wrapped in primitive dirt asserts its mastery over matter. And here again, vast docks and rivers, ringing with the clang of iron and steel, or forested for miles with masts, and huge warehouses storing up the riches of a hundred lands. Here indeed is there an England vast, strange, unequalled, displaying in old age an energy of development that rivals that of the New World ; but not here would I have you study with me the England OUTER ENGLAND. of to-day. Or the traveller may review the religious and philanthropic institutions of England. He finds the tokens of a re- ligious zeal and of a benevolent activity or- ganised, unceasing, universal. In confusing successions of vast assemblies at Exeter Hall or elsewhere he may do more than mark the absurdities of religion and the follies of religious bigotry ; he may learn much not only of earnest work, but of the circumstances which call these institutions into action. Moreover, he may con the newspapers, listen to parliamentary debates, frequent the clubs, mingle in the brilliant society of. Belgravia or Mayfair, pass weeks in enjoying the aristocratic pleasures of country mansions, and thus see English eccle- siasticism, politics, and society in their most striking aspects. Yet, with all this, you may and in most instances do, return without an inkling, at best with only hints, of that wonderful cosmos, with its underlying principles of life and action, its secret springs of policy, its social conditions and relations, its problems *b 3 6 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. of government and society, its prospects, contingencies, and perils, which indeed con- stitute my topic this evening. Not that all is hidden. The traveller least curious gets glimpses of deeper things. He often observes, for instance, in the midst of rural districts, groups of handsome build- ings ; or, walking in London some winter evening, passes a great institution, at the door of which lingers a line of shivering men and women, ay ! and God help us ! children. And he is told that these are the palaces of the poor ; the poor-houses of a wealthy and too wide-spread national bounty. His mind takes in some ideas of one of the gravest questions ever given to a people to solve, and he shakes his head ruefully at this sudden revelation of a society where one in twenty of the population receives gratuitous relief at the expense of the remainder. But as we shall see directly, little can be appre- hended of all that is mixed up with that serious question, or conceive how its roots run out and into almost every other social and political condition. DEFINITION OF SUBJECT. 7 II. DEFINITION OF SUBJECT. You will already then have divined that Definition of subject. in speaking of the England of to-day I refer to it, not in its picturesque or its romantic aspects, not in its commercial or statistical phases, not in relation to its power, its wealth, its amazing energy and progress — these are obvious to every one of my audience, — but of things which in any nation lend to all those aspects their real importance, things of its inner life and polity and social condition. III. IMPORTANCE OF INTERNATIONAL CRITICISM] I have not come here simply to amuse import- T 1 1 1 . - ance of in- you. 1 could not nave come to you without temationai criticism. a certain mission. What I am most anxious to do is, as far as may be in a brief evening, to give to Americans a better notion of the hidden meaning of some of those phases of 8 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. English politics and society of which they read the superficial history in telegrams, and newspaper items, or magazine articles. How important is it, nay, let me say how imperative, that in these inner matters of national life, England should be known to Americans, America be understood of Englishmen ! The world is becoming daily more international. The problems of humanity reassert themselves in all states, in every relation, and the secret motives of a nation's life are among the most precious of the curiosities which it can expose to the gaze of a curious world. But I say, by all means let these things be honestly and profoundly elicited. For such matters your brilliant criticasters are but the crackling of thorns under a pot. Take your English novelist, satirist, publicist, who scurries from New York to New Orleans. He takes up his graphic pen and sketches the surface of a great republic. See him examine people and scenery with the same eye-glass and with the same brains. He jots down its. most obvious characteristics and INTERNATIONAL CRITICISM chronicles its petty details of life with an air of profound insight ; pokes a finger into its deepest social abysses, and measures its poli- tical strata by his umbrella. Can he describe for you the America of to-day ? Like a child at a panorama he may have looked upon the illuminated screen where the hidden painting and light and lens have thrown their shadows and reflections, but of the causes of the scene he looks upon or of the philosophy of its action, heat best only guesses. How much you Americans have suffered in this way at the hands of my roving countrymen I blush to confess, but it is some relief to know that it has not always been without compensating injuries. IV. GROUNDS OF INTERNATIONAL AMITY. In compliment to your common sense I Grounds avoid the hackneyed sentiments about the national eternal ties which bind England and America. England and America are two human nations, IO GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. and would go to war with as much zest, and perhaps ferocity, as any two nations in the world. That sort of sentiment has been overdone ; and when one of my countrymen vapours to you about our common race, common language, common Shakespeare, Milton, Byron, W. Field, and Holloway's pills, you may be sure he either has nothing to say, or is over here collecting for some church or charity. Ladies and gentlemen, our international brotherhood is to be evinced by better things than these : by a candid study of each others social errors or improve- ments : by a candid interchange of thought : by a candid, sincere, bold, and reciprocal criti- cism of each others societies, literature, poli- tics, religion : by the suppression of jealousies and heartburnings : by a more intimate knowledge on either part of all those count- less varieties of circumstance which tend to prove, not that our language but our in- terests are one. It is in this spirit that I have come among you, not to expose or con- demn my own country, but frankly to speak of such things in my own country as may be of consequence to you, or may enable you INTERNATIONAL AMITY. II the better to understand its difficulties as well as its greatness. V. VESTED INTERESTS. Where is one to begin upon a subject of so vested interests vast a range ? Here you have many prob- lems—there there are hundreds. Politics here have their knotty points, there they are tangled in innumerable skeins. The diversities of sects, the antipathies of reli- gions, the incongruities of class interests, are here grave and embarrassing — there they are numberless, extreme, irritable, irreconcil- able. Sociology is here beginning to be a well of profound depth — there it is a bottomless whirlpool. The evils and wrongs of society are here enough to make men anxious — there they force themselves upon every intelligence, and what is to some people more important, carry their interest home to every breeches pocket — wJtere there is one. Institutions here are many, and their relations vast — there they have multiplied through centuries, con- sist of the accretions of ages, and are built 12 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. into the very framework of society. Interests like these you touch at your peril. They have arms and suckers as numerous and powerful as a devil-fish. They cling to the rock of their rights like limpets. When you tear them away you must break off large sections of their base with them. Here, then, is suggested our first topic. A prominent thing which stands out in the > condition of the England of to-day is the number and power of vested interests. The Crown has vested interests — the aristocracy have vested interests — the Church has vested interests — the clergy — the liquor-sellers — the army and navy — the bench and the bar — officials of the court, of law — every endowed charity — the schools, and many schoolmasters, railways, turnpikes, municipal corporations, lords of manors, dukes and chancellors of duchies, markets, fairs, constitute a vast and mighty array of vested interests. You can scarcely drive the chariot of legislation in any direction without jarring against one of these obstructive in- terests. INFLUENCE OF VESTED INTERESTS. 1 3 VI. INFLUENCE OF VESTED INTERESTS. Hence Reform in England, and among influence of vested. yourselves, however similar it may be in interests. principles, is in development a different thing. In new communities anomalies in laws, in cus- toms, in polity, vanish before reformers like clouds before the wind. In old societies they can only be removed under the threat of danger, as you blow up houses to stay a great conflagration, or by the slow incessant wear- ing of advancing and receding tides of public opinion. Aye ! great is the potency of vested interest ! It is a solid body concreted into the wall of society, and you can only remove it by breaking down that on which it is stayed. It cannot be abated without noise, and labour, and money ; a solvent people are least and last willing to apply to it. Its impudence is astounding, its claims exorbitant, its obstinacy selfish and intractable. In proportion to the number of vested 14 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. interests existing in a country, with all their permanent establishments, connections, rights, privileges, and immunities, is that country- fettered and locked up from freedom of action, is the majority of its people restrained by the privileges of a minority, is the liberty of that country, its advancement, the healthiness and purity of its political life, imperilled. A vested interest is a millstone hanged about the neck of society. Like Sinbad's old man, it clings round the shoulders of a nation with an ever- tightening grasp. It does not much matter whether its legs are clerical, or aristocratic, or plebeian— whether they wear the livery of the monarch, or the boots of the dragoon, or the silk-stockings of a bishop, or the fleshes of an alderman, or the naturals of a sans-culotte — their grip is none the less strong and deadly — it impedes both breath and motion. Such interests must to some extent exist wherever there are human societies, but the aim of wise statesmen and a wise people will be to keep or reduce them to the smallest number and lowest power. Laws which en- THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. I 5 •courage their creation are impolitic, laws which exaggerate their power are criminal. VII. A GREAT VESTED INTEREST— THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Most prominent at this moment of all these a great vested in- great interests in England is the Established terest— the Church Church ; endowed with 90,000,000/. of pro- of Eng- land. perty ; its bishops sitting in the House of Peers ; its clergy of every grade scattered over the country, prescribing in rural districts, with few exceptions, the religion of the people, preponderating also in the towns ; its minis- ters — and only its ministers — tx officio regis- trars of marriages, and managers of endowed schools ; its burial-grounds (those of the parish and therefore of the parish people) closed to all services but those of its rubric ; its schools the principal media of education in England. This is a church not only wealthy and politi- cally powerful, but socially preeminent, not to belong to which is a disability. 1 6 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. VIII. ITS ALLIES. its allies. This mighty institution, holding in its hands the keys of heaven and hell, wields in England to-day a power rivalled only by that of its strange ally, the Licensed Victuallers' Association. For in this crisis of their fates > the clergy and the publicans no longer stand afar off from each other. They have joined hands ; and four elections out of five are won by the unholy combination. It is character- istic of such an institution to have no con- science about its allies. It was more than two centuries ago the aider and abettor of a tyrannical monarchy. From it were cruelly driven the noblest elements it contained, and some of its cast-off members laid the founda- tions of one of the greatest nations in the world. Through its whole history it has been on the side of privilege against equality — of patronage against liberty — of power against right — of caste and priesthood against libera- tion. THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. I 7 IX. ITS POWER AND CHARACTERISTICS. I ts patent incongruity with the ideas of its power this age and its inherent defects had shaken its character istics. foundations. But as a last effort, and true to its instincts, it has by taking advantage of a combination of circumstances, succeeded in procuring legislation in England which vir- tually throws into its hands the education of a majority of English children, with additional endowments. The pretensions and privileges of this vast organisation complicate almost every social problem — obstruct almost every social reform. Its influence is divisive of Chris- tianity, through the arrogance of its claims and the assumption of its clerics. So long as its supremacy lasts religious equality is im- possible and religious bigotry is a national characteristic. It is a conglomerate of irre- concilables. Within are fightings, without are fears. The representatives of free thought, of Calvinism, of Ritualism, alike find nests 1 8 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. under the eaves of its churches and cathe- drals. The neologian, the disciple of the reli- gion of culture if it has any disciple, the Evangelical, the Ritualist, may alike feed within its fold. Its livings are bought and sold by Simoniacal contracts. The Ritualists have lately been rejoicing because they suc- ceeded in purchasing the oversight of a piece of Christ's fold in Liverpool, of rather larger size and with sheep of somewhat better breed than usual. Who ever expected to see Christ's kingdom cut up into lots and disposed of to the highest-bidding adventurers of religious joint-stock companies with limited liability ? But this is not all. In many places the rector or vicar is also a magistrate, and (as clerics love power) an active magistrate ; so that he who preaches in Christ's name on the Sabbath, and is to soothe the pillow of dying parishioners, administers on week days the criminal law, sends poachers to be tried at the assizes, and convicts agricultural unionists, be they men or women, under Acts passed in THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. IQ the interest of employers of labour. Hence the poor labourers who hear at church that all men are equal before God, must, at the bench of magistrates, learn from the same lips that the laws of England have introduced important amendments to the Sermon on the Mount in favour of land and money. But you will say, ' Such a body as that must be on the eve of dissolution!' No. One bond unites the incongruous elements ; vested interest — more irreverently designated loaves and fishes. How great is the religious discord pro- moted by this gigantic anomaly, who can describe ? It must be seen and endured to be understood in all its bearings. An Established Church minister will not enter a nonconformist pulpit — a nonconformist minis- ter must not enter a church desk. In the country parishes the church clergyman and his flock look with disdain on the dissenting minister and his congregation. It needs indeed some strength of mind to be a dis- senter in the rural districts, because it implies ostracism from the best society. The rich c 2 20 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. man's child, the poor mans child, will alike suffer from a Christianity which is vindictive or a charity which is sectarian. Why do I mention these things ? — to amuse yotCy or to derogate from your admiration of episcopacy, or to discount my native land ? I should scorn to minister anything to sec- tarian rancour, or to vilify my own country to strangers. I am speaking to you of a political institution, of a Church in the meshes of the State. I refer to these things only that you may have an idea of the influence exerted in English politics and society by a gigantic vested interest which from end to end of England prompts and fosters un- christian enmity, bigotry, and strife. X. WHITTIER'S POEM. Whittled Your poet Whittier has prophesied in noble numbers against the hierarchs of such an institution. WHITTIEKS POEM. 21 Now too oft the priesthood wait At the threshold of the state ; Waiting for the beck and nod Of its power as law and God. Not on them the poor rely, Not to them looks liberty, Who, with fawning falsehood, cower To the wrong when clothed with power. Oh ! to see them meanly cling Round the master, round the king, Sported with, and sold and bought, Pitifuller sight is not ! Tell me not that this must be, God's true priest is always free ! Free the needed truth to speak, Right the wronged and raise the weak. Not to fawn on wealth and state, Leaving Lazarus at the gate. Not to peddle creeds like wares, Not to mutter hireling prayers. Not to print the new life's bliss On the sable ground of this, Golden streets for idle knave, Sabbath rest for weary slave ! Not for words and works like these, Priest of God, thy mission is, But to make earth's desert glad, In its Eden greenness clad. 2 2 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. And to level manhood bring Lord and peasant, serf and king; And the Christ of God to find In the humblest of thy kind. XI. STATE AND FREE RELIGIONS CONTRASTED. state and Yet in the face of these things there are Free re- . ligions men, and able men, who argue in favour of a contrasted. state religion. The Bismarckian principle has been ably propounded in England, and the right of the state to control the faiths taught in it has been supported by arguments that would have justified the Inquisition. Even among yourselves have arisen people to assert that the legislature ought to enact the existence of a God. I have often thought that the God whose name is not mentioned in the American constitution is more revered by the American people than is in England the God who shares with her Majesty the Queen the headship of the Church. I may be wrong, but my own observation is that religion is here more earnest, more vivid* STATE AND FREE RELIGIONS. 2$ more energetic and sacrificing and less sec- tarian, than in any other Anglo-Saxon com- munity, and I attribute it to the perfect level of religious status and to the absence of what is termed the patronage of government. XII. PRIVILEGE IN ENGLAND. Such then is the nature of vested interests, privilege I have said enough to warn you to be jealous land. & of their establishment and growth among you. They are silent and secret in their increase. Crescit occulta, velut arbor sevo. Strong I say, in an old country, is vested interest ; great also is the power of privilege. Privilege in Germany controls governments, rules society, commands the army, suppresses the people ; and in that very Germany now so preeminent, privilege, waxing unendurable, will yet be dethroned by a liberal revolution. * But,' you say, ' what of privilege in 24 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. England ? Have not Reform Bills done much to diminish its power ? ' Something ; but still not enough. The present House of Commons, elected five years ago, is nearly as much the representative of land, capital, and aristocracy as the last. Privilege tells at every point — often I believe unconsciously. For in one thing is England supereminent — in one thing to be envied by all other nations ; I mean in the general ability and purity of her statesmen. No one ever dreams of im- puting to an English statesman of eminence any corruption, anything worse than party or class prejudice. Therein you look for their weaknesses ; and I have never heard it gravely suggested in my time that there was a member of the House of Commons to be bought with money. How vast and blessed an influence on English society is exerted by the high personal character of her great statesmen, you cannot overestimate. Yet, as I said, privi- lege is mighty. No ministry can be formed without a preponderating representation of the aristocratic party. Sons of peers or Whig land-owners have, in a Liberal government, the chances oi undci secretai j ships [n the army 01 na> \. admirabl} as the} ha> e nu\l. pi u ilege still wins appointments and promot Prh ilege reforms, , cial benefits, influences Parliament magisterial benches in the country, maintains unjust laws, discourages the un MIL i ! et nic :> i\ e j ou an instance Bij ming fnatonec >' 1 !' ,,u ■ ' ham some tune a^o was sullenng in a gnastlj oi Prwi waj From bad drainage rhe to^ n count il ile uii mtngh nu coded in car rvinir throucfh the ( lommittee Bill ol the i ords and ( Commons r Bewage bill, at i oi rhis bill proposed to the sewage oi the town on land lying near the property ol Sii Charles Adderlej and Sii Robert Peel. But tin itlemen, though one ol them professed u» be a sanitai \ i efoi mer, would ha\ e no sev aj 26 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. between the wind and their nobility, and though it had been proved to the satisfaction of the two Committees that the proposed scheme would create no nuisance near their property, they collected enough friends and landowners to throw the bill out of the House of Commons on the third reading. The people of Birmingham lost their 20,000/. r and its enormous population went on gene- rating disease. The case was aggravated by this fact : the minority in the division in the House of Commons on the Birmingham Sewage Bill represented more voters than the majority. We still retain those relics of a barbarous era of statesmanship, unequal constituencies, and ten of the smallest towns in Great Britain may outvote ten of the largest. This is one of the incidents of privilege, as it also gives it additional power. THE EDUCATION ACT, 1870. 27 XIV. ANOTHER INSTANCE OF COMBINED IN- FLUENCE OF VESTED INTERESTS AND PRIVILEGE— THE EDUCATION ACT, 1870. Again, the National education originated Another instance of by Lord John Russell and his coadjutors combined y influence slowly pushed its way for thirty years through p fvested J r J J J & interests all the difficulties created by the indifference f nd P ri ™" J lege : the of the people, by sectarian animosity, by the Aero? 10 " 1 assumption of the Established Church, by l87 °* the arrogance of Roman Catholic pretensions, as to the education of citizens who belong first to the state and then to their churches — pretensions, let me add, which, as we in England have learned to our cost, no people can listen to without peril, or concede without derogating from its liberties. Government endeavoured for years to secure a national education by voluntary effort aided by the state. Thus there grew up a great group of vested interests — the denominational schools, most of them belonging to the Church or to the Romanists. They failed, however, to 2% GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. penetrate the dense mass of ignorance ; and under the pressure of terrible facts we resolved to take a step forward. The Education Act of 1870 recognised the duty of the state to see that no child should grow up without the opportunity of a good education. It post- poned the recognition of the complementary principle that every child should be compelled to take advantage of that opportunity. The Act also enacted that no part of England and Wales should be deficient in school accommodation ; it did not, by making the education everywhere rate-supported and free, make it a right purchased by the whole community, common to every child in the community, and therefore to be enjoyed without stint or reproach. One step more was required to make the system perfect. The education given by the state should be given under state inspection — it should be secular only — its expenses should be subject to the control of a body elected by the rate- payers. The moment you omit any modi- fication of these principles, you let loose in the community the dogs of religious war, THE EDUCATION ACT, 1870. 29 and have given away the guarantees of an efficient and economical education. In Eng- land the blunder was committed. The Churches of England and Rome, the aristo- cratic and landed interests, proved too strong for those who were in favour of religious equality. Denominational schools, belonging chiefly to those two bodies, were perpetuated under a state system. Six months was given, with the bribe of additional aid from the state, to increase the number of deno- minational schools in the parishes, until the accommodation should be sufficient for all the children in the parish, and thus secure exclusive ascendancy to one sect. School boards elected by ratepayers, and empowered to levy local rates for education, were only to be formed where there were not enough denominational schools to accommodate all the children. The denominational schools were to receive for the children they taught a certain grant from the imperial govern- ment ; and school boards, where there were any, were empowered to pay, at denomina- tional schools which the parents might 30 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. designate, the fees of the children of paupers who had religious prejudices — that is to say, I may be forced to pay a rate which goes to support a school in which are taught doctrines I abhor. In consequence of these wicked and pernicious blunders, while hundreds of thousands of children are waiting to be educated, England is a battle-field of religious bigotry. In elections for school boards, the question is not how many men of experience in educational matters shall be elected, but how many representatives of each sort shall sit upon the board and give it a secular or a denominational leaning. Those natural allies of Liberalism, the Nonconformists, seeing in this policy an unfair advantage conferred on the Estab- lishment and on Romanism, are either hostile or cold to a government which has been false to its principles. In that old country, with its overpowering State Church, compro- mises, which here are possible, are impracti- cable ; the power of the ^compromising is great indeed ; religious bigotry, exasperated THE EDUCATION ACT, 1870. by ever-obtrusive social and political inequal- ities, will neither be generous nor tolerant, and the only smooth platform of state action is absolute equality. XV. A THIRD INSTANCE: TRADES-UNION LEGIS- LATION, THE CRIMINAL LAW AMEND- MENT ACT. Let me cite a third instance. These con- a third in- •i • • stance : crete exhibits of the truth I am stating are Trades- Union far more instructive than any arguments. legislation; J & the Crimi- Some time ago the trades-unions applied nal Law fe rr Amend- tO Parliament for relief from the abominable ment Act - laws which rendered their associations illegal, and which deprived them of any remedy in a court of law for the defalcations of their officers. Parliament passed a milk-and-water permissive measure, because just then the working-men were important to the Liberal party : but at the same time privilege stepped in and demanded its securities. The Act was supplemented by an Act called the 1 Criminal Law Amendment Act,' and which 32 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. defined special misdemeanours supposed to be peculiar to trades-unionists, with special penalties for the commission of them. This was a case of class-legislation. The ordinary criminal law, which protects all the rest of the community, so far as it is possible to protect it, from infringements of personal liberty of thought or action, but which cannot possibly protect every individual from the thousand moral influences which his fellows may bring to bear on him, provides penalties for threatening or molesting people ; and, moreover, it is as unfair as it is impolitic to define crimes as class crimes and to punish them as class offences. True, the Criminal Law Amendment Act was separated from the Trades- Union Act, and thus in name appears as a simple amendment of the general criminal law, but both its origin and its terms stand forth to brand it as a gross instance of special legislation, aimed at and affecting in almost all its particulars only one portion of the community. Ever since that time the Act has been working with increasing hardships. It is purposely indefi- CRIMINAL LAW AMENDMENT ACT. 33 nite — no one can tell whether some word or act may not bring him within the clutches of some prejudiced Tory magistrate or judge. You will remember that two clerical justices in Oxfordshire sent nineteen women to prison under this Act, some of them with infants at their breasts, for frightening a couple of men. XVI. A FOURTH INSTANCE: THE WORKING-MEN AND PARLIAMENTARY REPRESENTA- TION. Once more : since the Reform Act, the a fourth . . , , A instance: working-men have been attempting to secure the work- 1 i • n 1 * n S men for themselves that influence in legislation, and Par- . . liamenlaiy and that opportunity of expressing their Represen- tation, opinions in Parliament, which the measure was designed to afford them. The principle of class representation is not a sound one — it is obviously prone to exaggerate class-prejudices and to create representatives less useful to the community than diligent in promoting class interests at D 34 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. the expense of the common good. But in England no honest observer can conceal from himself that there is class legislation promoted for the classes in power, and sometimes adversely to the working-men. In that situa- tion the only method of adjusting the balance and preparing the way for equal, proper and unprejudiced representation is to place in the House men who can speak, and speak authoritatively, the wishes of the working- class. But here privilege stands out once more. The present Liberal party, with Mr. Gladstone at its head, was practically placed in power by the votes of working-men, but even a Liberal government shrinks from meeting in the House of Commons the repre- sentatives of labour. In most of the constituencies the privi- leged classes, however liberal in their profes- sions, would scarcely look at, still less assist a labour candidate ; and in those where the preponderance of voters has been on the side of the working-men, the Liberal whip has jockeyed their candidates out of the seat with admirable and invariable cleverness. In fact WORKING-MEN IN PARLIAMENT. 35 I suppose the ministry dared not express any sympathy for the claims of their most numerous supporters. The reaction among the upper classes in England after the Hyde Park riot was very strong ; the effect on the English middle classes of the horrible days of the Paris Commune was naturally extreme ; the working-men are cleverly and persistently associated by the Whig and Tory press with the acts or expressions of a handful of Inter- nationalists in London and of a few Repub- lican agitators. On every question affecting the working-men, the present Government and House of Commons have leaned to the side of privilege and capital. XVII. EFFECT OF THE POLICY OF REPRESSION. You will always find that where men seek Effect of . the poliey to repress powers that ought to be recognised, of repres- sion, they exasperate those powers to dangerous development. This has been the effect of the arrogance D 2 -\6 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. o cf privilege in England. You get glimpses of the revolt in the almost universal oppo- sition of the working-men to royal dowries — in their doubtful attitude towards the Queen —in their angry criticism of every act like the reduction of the number of artisans em- ployed in the naval dockyards, while the sinecures, and offices nearly equivalent to sinecures, are left untouched — in their wide- spread suspicion of Mr. Gladstones ministry and in the significant though not alarming progress of republicanism. XVIII. REPUBLICANISM IN ENGLAND. Repubii- The republican movement in England and canism in ~ , , . . r Engknd. Scotland is important, but not at present for- midable. Yet I think it may be made so by the obstinate folly of Tory and Whig ob- structives, and at any crisis of the national affairs. Mr. Bradlaugh, its principal leader, is an able man and has a large following. In one or two towns, I am informed, the REPUBLICANISM IN ENGLAND. 37 Republicans are strong enough to control the elections. There are about 100 Republican clubs, 1 but they are not, as I understand, combined in one league. As a rule they associate their aims with the principles of the ' International ' and the atheism of Mr. Brad- laugh. These clubs appear to me to be here and there ingeniously mixed up with the socialist schemes of single-eyed agitators, and naturally take their stand alongside the workman in the paramount cause of labour against capital. I know a good deal of the working-classes in the great towns, and I cannot conceal from myself or you, that they are in a temper to accept what I deem the fatal seeds of propagandism which threatens alike religion and government. To anyone who attentively considers the position of England with a desire for her welfare, this movement can have only the aspect of mis- chief and folly. Republicanism here is yet on its trial : Republicanism in many of its 1 Mr. Bradlaugh, in his speeches in the United States, claimed more, and he probably knows best, but I had the above number from an authority scarcely second to Mr. Bradlaugh. o 8 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. best features already exists in England. The Queen is less powerful than your President ; our ministry is more amenable to public opinion than yours. In face of the vast evils that yet remain to be redressed, and with ample machinery provided for their safe, steady, and certain removal, it seems almost criminal to divert men from practical to theoretical agitation, to upset their views of a form of government which, with all its faults, is the best in the world ; especially at a time when there are better things for the noblest reformers to do. But this movement proves how the per- versity and blindness of wealth and privilege may push to extremities and combine into formidable resistance, forces which a higher wisdom would charm into utility. XIX. SYSTEM OF LOCAL GOVERNMENT". System of Next to our vested interests and all-pervad- Local Govern- ing privilege, the most noteworthy thing to a merit. LOCAL GOVERNMENT. 39 foreigner in England would be our system of local government. Cromwell called the laws of England ' an ungodly jungle ; ' this system is not to be so easily epitomised. A coat of many colours, of patchwork, of darning, botching and mending — good heavens, 'tis the very motley of Bumbledom ! There are vestries and boards of guard- ians in some places ; mayors and corpora- tions in others ; in others local government boards ; in others boards of health ; county magistrates do some things — parish beadles do others, and the spirit of the parish beadle is the spirit of local government. XX. THE PARISH BEADLE. Great is the parish beadle. His dignity is The parish a paltry one — it is the mere dignity of a beadle. livery — yet he loveth to display it with the air of one in a prince's clothing. He (ad- ministering only a parish) nevertheless deem- eth himself capable of any office. To him 40 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. the beadle's gown is the chief qualification, the outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual grace of government. ' I should become an earldom rarely,' said Sancho, ' for I was once beadle to a brother- hood, and the beadle's gown did so become me that everyone said I had the presence of a warden. Then how do you think I shall look with a duke's robes on my back, all bedaubed with gold or pearl like any foreign count ? I believe we shall have folks come a hundred leagues to see me ! ' So the beadle worshippeth office — wrappeth himself round with office and its badges — accounteth that his office was made for him and he for his office. To him his parish is the world. The beadle loveth to show his power ; before him little boys tremble, and old women bow down them- selves. The weak look in vain to him for help or mercy ; to the strong he showeth respect. He fawneth upon the great, and by humility he winneth many favours — and many kicks. He is willing to sacrifice any- thing for his office and himself; even his THE PARISH BEADLE. 41 wife, his family, his wife's relations, his honour, his honesty — all these things are to him as nought weighed in the balances against the ennobling garb of office. Office makes him. Without office he is John Smith or Ezekiel Jones, of anywhere — in office he is the Beadle of Bellyfillin. He will take any oath of allegiance you please, an it will procure him an office ; he will break any oath you like, if it will preserve him the dignity and the emoluments. Moreover he conflneth himself not to one place. He goeth about, seeking where and what he may devour, He getteth into Parliaments, or Senates, or State- legislatures, he riseth to be cabinet minister, he may even become Prime Minister or First President, or Governor, but everywhere and always he carrieth with him the spirit of the beadle. Like Sancho, you may swear of him that his gown may improve with every change, but yet the two-legged beast within, and the spirit within the two-legged beast, will be still and always that of the parish beadle. 42 GLAACES AT INNER ENGLAND. XXI. Illustra- tion of confusion of local govern- ment. ILLUSTRATION OF CONFUSION OF LOCAL GOVERNMENT. To return to the confusion of our local government. If you will pardon the Hibernicism, the same places have different boundaries. The municipal boundary, the parliamentary boundary, the parish bound- aries, the sanitary boundary, of the same town are often not identical. What illustra- tion could do justice to such disorder ? Let me give a prescription. Take half-a-dozen dissected maps, each sawn in a different pattern ; distribute the pieces and mix them well together. Form a square of the size of one of them, and within that square casually arrange such pieces as come to hand first. If any spaces remain, fill them up as near as may be with smaller sections. Proceed to cover up its crevices with larger pieces, and if you don't, like the result go on piling one piece on another all over the map, in such a manner as to give CONFUSION OF LOCAL GOVERNMENT. 43 the greatest possible varieties of disorder arranged in the least convenient way : fix the whole by pouring hot glue — which you may call prescription — over it, and you have a type of the manner in which England is laid out for purposes of local government. An astute and learned lawyer would be puzzled to discriminate between the multitude of Acts concerning local management of towns, of sanitary matters, of water supply, of roads, streets, and bridges, of building and draining, and to advise specifically what authority might or ought to do any particular thing. The judges sometimes give it up as hopeless. XXII. SYSTEM SUPPORTED BY THE STRENGTH OF VESTED INTEREST. But how comes it that a system so intoler- system able can hold its own in a community not abso- by P the ° lutely idiotic ? I reply it is because of the vested 1 power of vested interests. The multitude of these bodies, with their ancient rights and 44 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. privileges, are together too powerful for any government to attack except in detail or by a sidewind. Not long since, you will remember, Mr. Gladstone threw out a much-needed warn- ing to the Corporation of London. The whole bevy of Bumbledom went into hysterics. The Tory party sounded the trumpet. An ancient and honourable corporation was in danger. On the sacred persons of Gog and Magog impious hands might be laid. The Lord Mayor of London asked all the mayors in England to dinner. The chaplain said grace. Over turtle-soup and venison, chassded with champagne, they soothed their outraged spirits, they encouraged each other to believe that institutions so antique, so essential to the existence of the commonwealth, should never die : they pledged themselves to a new solemn League and Covenant in their defence. The oath was, or is, to be confirmed by a second dinner to be given by all the other mayors to the Lord Mayor of London. Even Mr. Gladstone, facing such a phalanx of embodied beef and dignity, equally intent on vindicating their corporate rights and cor- STRENGTH OF VESTED INTEREST. 45 poral privileges, flinched before them at the Mansion House, and generalised upon the dignity of local independence. XXIII. TENDENCY OF KNAVES AND FOOLS TO MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT I do not profess to know what your experi- Tendency of knaves ence is in America, but in England we find and fools to muni- that stupidity and knavery have a perilous ci P al x J J x govevn- tendency to aggregate and crystallise about ment - municipal institutions. It would seem as if an ingenuous public recognised town-corpora- tions and local boards as a substitute for re- spectable gaols and idiot asylums. Nay, what asylum could take them all in ? Paro- chus is deaf, Parochus is blind, Parochus is stupid, Parochus is perverse : Parochus is niggardly when he ought to be generous, and free when he ought to be close : Parochus sometimes pockets the people's money, uses the people's workmen, takes commissions from the people's tradesmen, forgets the 46 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. people's health, neglects the people's business. If the cur is caught in the act of stealing a leg of mutton, he yelps when he is kicked for it, but he goes on eating the meat. XXIV. THE FATAL RESULTS OF NEGLIGENCE OF THE DUTIES OF CITIZENSHIP. The fatal To a new community one cannot point a results of negligence better moral than from the state of municipal of the r duties of administration in England. There are few •citizenship. & evils so injurious to the body politic as ad- ministrative corruption existing through the negligence of citizens to perform their duties, whether of selection or representation. It is indeed one of the clearest evidences of rottenness in a people's condition. For it is with a nation as with a man ; sacrifice is the secret of greatness. He who would win a name, a position, an estate, builds these up on self-denial. From blood and tears comes triumph : the cross wins the crown. Away then I say, from among a free people, with DUTIES OF CITIZENSHIP. 47 the craven to whom political and municipal affairs are things of mere curiosity, or the avaricious knave who while he accepts a nation's protection declines to repay it with a citizen's devoir. It is the inaction of the best citizens which disturbs in all free countries the play of free government. Government can only afford to be free, and a people can only deserve to be free, when citizens generally assume the common burden of working for its good. People cry out against the tyranny of majorities. High-stepping Tories cry out against it in the state, schismatics cry out against it in every free church. I dare say the man who suffers from the tyranny of majorities — that is, the man whose interests are not coincident with those of the public, finds it quite as hard to give way to a majority as it would be to yield to a pope or a kaiser. But after all (it is a mere truism to say it !) is it not a different thing to be one of a community, and have a voice either for or against what the majority desires, and to be one of a community every member of 48 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. which is bound to submit silently to the dictation of one person ? Really, when we come to sift this outcry about the tyranny of majorities, we find it simply comes to this : Absti- The abstinence of influential minorities. nence of 11 i • • 1 influential In a free state, were all the citizens to be minorities. equally patriotic in their interest, labour, and sacrifice for the political purity and perfection of government, the tyranny of majorities would scarcely be a bugbear. But as a matter of course, if half the people are indif- ferent, the other half will take advantage of it : if the best decline the work, the worst will accept it. And I have often noticed that the men who most decry the tyranny of majorities are those who keep themselves free of the sacrifices, toils, and responsibilities of political and municipal affairs. You know too well, as we in England have learned to our cost, the effects of this indifference. It is the common peril of democracies. Government, local or national, is apt to become the prey of state harpies. You find at length that, not the fittest man ABSTINENCE OF MINORITIES. 49 but the most cunning demagogue or even the most egregious scoundrel, is the one who, taking the people by the ears, acquires the right to govern them. Instead of principle we get fraud ; instead of patriotism, selfish- ness ; instead of sacrifice, actual stealing ; instead of statesmanship, quackery ; and you remember Carlyle says that quack . and dupe are the upper and under sides of the same leather. XXV. PATRIOTIC DUTY. The sentiment of patriotic duty is one of Patriotic the things wherein we are nowadays most deficient. In the Greek Republics patriotic sacrifice was one of the virtues. Has Chris- tianity diminished the obligation ? Do we, and ought we not faithfully to teach our children that next to the love of God comes the spirit of devotion to the people's service ? The mere sentiment of Fourth of July loyalty ; the sprinkling and starring of heaven with fire- 50 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. works, tremendous roaring and rattling of cannonades and fusillades, the assertion of American citizenship in divers curious ways, in places as different as London hotels, French cafes, Rhine steamers, the Roman Corso, or the top of the Pyramids ; eloquent and intensely national orations on the Decla- ration of Independence and the Pilgrim Fathers ; that any of these, or all of them together, do but imperfectly comply with the responsibilities of patriotism we must all confess. Not seldom are they the brayings of the well-stalled jackass, who prefers speaking through his nose to being harnessed in the yoke and taking his share in dragging along the great state chariot. XXVI. APPEAL. Appeal O ye mothers and fathers, with your noble, clever, capable children growing up around you — your circle of beauty and pride, APPEAL. 5 1 if you would make of this free people a really great nation, supreme in its liberty, its wealth, and its might, instil into your offspring the true holy pride of a patriotism which regards no sacrifice as too extreme, no gift too rich, no energy or zeal too extravagant in the country's daily work. For here are laid the foundation of a nation's greatness, here grow the roots of its success, herein lie the seeds of its honour, its well-being, its super-eminence, its after-blessedness in the sacred consecra- tion to its service of all its sons and daughters ! XXVII. THE ENGLISH POOP. I have spoken of vested interests, of privi- The English lege, of local administration, of the citizen's poor. duty. Let us change the scene. The amazing vitality and wealth of Eng- land transfixes the foreigner with astonish- ment. Nothing more impressed the Shah of Persia than the tokens which he saw on every 52 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. hand of boundless riches. The streets and squares of noble mansions in Belgravia, Mayfair, or Brompton, the innumerable halls and castles, with their splendid domains sprinkled over the face of the country, the magnificence of the merchants, the incessant vigour of manufactures, the crowded ship- ping on rivers like the Thames, the Mersey, the H umber, the Clyde, and the Tyne, as- tound the spectator with the idea of fabulous wealth, amidst which it would seem impossi- ble that poverty should have a place. Yet, with all this energy and all these riches, there exists in melancholy contrast a poverty and degradation so terrible that it is a greater marvel than the splendour under which it burrows. Up from the depths comes a cry sonorous and awful, a warning to the daz- zling glory above. CITY AND TOWN POPULATION. 53 XXVIII. THE CITY AND TOWN POPULATION. Let me try then, — let me try faithfully and The city and town without exaggeration, to give you an insight popuia- into some of that dense, dreadful life which underlies the crust of English society. I stood, not many weeks ago, gazing at a The , . Midland magnificent pile of buildings at St. Pancras in Railway Station at London, erected on the plans of England's St. Pan- eras : the greatest architect, — one of those colossal antec&- dents and hotels which are now attached to our chief conse - quences. railway termini, with all its adjacent station, — a triumph of engineering, its vast roof, if I am not mistaken, spanning in one arch more than an acre of ground. Where all this now stands, and on the space cleared for its ap- proaches, I used eight years ago to visit, week after week, a population of the artisan and unskilled labouring class. Here were narrow streets and alleys, with grim, rotting tenements, every hole and corner, from cellar to attic, occupied by families — one family to a room, with sometimes a boarder besides — 54 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. the population so dense that we counted in one square 4,500 people, — on each corner a ginshop doing a thriving trade, which all our schools and entertainments, meetings, Bible classes, and sermons scarcely seemed to diminish. Futility of Of what use is it to preach temperance preaching temper- and morality where the conditions are such as ance and virtue almost to make them not merely self-denials amidst such DlI t martyrdoms ? Well, into this neighbour- circum- • stances. hood there 'walk the engineer and railway contractor, backed by the strong arm of government, and forthwith they shovel out the population, square by square, thousands of them, with their goods and chattels, into the streets, to seek elsewhere something they may call a home! Where are they to go ? They must live near their work. They can- not all seek out cottages at Barking, or Putney, or Hackney. They surge out of Somers- town and in upon the already over-crowded alleys and streets of St. Pancras — a mighty wave of hearthless and forlorn humanity. The single ones may get quartered on families and share a corner of one small room and an CITY AND TOWN POPULATION. 55 eighth or ninth of the family bed — that is to say, the floor. The families get into cellars, or encroach on the narrow space of other families, until, at higher rents, they have, in some mysterious way, found holes, like rabbits, where it would seem that every inch of the warren was already overstocked. Intolerable are the conditions of life, horrible the perils, moral and physical, dismal indeed the experiences of a population packed like that. Health there, is merely a name for modified disease, decency is fastidiousness, ordinary morality is a shining virtue, drunken- ness is almost venial. All they care for is a nights lodging! Most of them, men, women, or children, live in the streets all day. You think it no wonder, if you have examined their pens, that the bar of the gin-palace is crowded by pallid, dirty-faced wretches gloomily drinking their gin or beer ; and you look at some huge animal cruelly striking the thin creature who strives to guide him ' homewards,' or at half-conscious mothers soothing their shrivelled infants with the poison that has dried up both nourishment 56 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. and heart within their own breasts — or at boys of nine and ten with old, hard, fixed features and cunning eyes, taking their brandy and cigar. And, while you look and curse the agent of such degradation, you who have seen where these people herd and pen will say, ' If drink brings men to this, that also must bring them to drink.' God save us ! If that be all their wages can procure them of joy or comfort, what is left to them but to seek ' respite and nepenthe ' in suicide or intoxication ? is the pic- g U |; scmie one ma y say — as men have said ture exag- ** J gerated? to m6 before, who lived within a stones throw of these scenes — ' This picture which you give us is the painting of an excited, hysterical philanthropist. It may be correct of one or two places, but in the main it is exaggerated.' I reply, It is true of almost every district in London where the poor con- gregate. It is equally true of Manchester, of Liverpool, of Glasgow, of other great towns ; it is true, not merely of thousands, but of hundreds of thousands. Dr. French, the medical officer of Liverpool, reported that CITY AND TOWN POPULATION. 57 26,000 houses in Liverpool were occupied by families in single rooms. Lord Derby's calcu- lation from this statement, that at least one- third of the population of Liverpool, 1 50,000 persons, were living in these conditions, cannot be exaggerated. In St. George's, Hanover Square, the richest and most aristocratic district in the world, 450 persons were found, a short time ago, living in 12 houses. In St. Giles and Holborn 11,000 families live in single rooms. And what are these rooms like ? In one room visited, which was 12ft. by 13 and 7ft. 6in. high, lived 8 persons, paying a rent of four shillings a week. Is it possible to intensify the interest of these facts ? Yes ! you may even find some rooms occupied by relays of human animals. Per- sons engaged at or attending theatres at night, sublet their beds to market people, and when the market people turn out, the theatre people turn into the same beds. Here, in these awful depths, humanity asserts its brotherhood in misery, and the sacred com- munity of beasts is proved by their being tied up together in one sheet. 58 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND, XXIX. THE AGRICULTURAL LABOURERS. SirST" ^ et us turn our t> ac k on towns and manu- a omers. f actureS) an( ^ s } c k at heart with the awful problems these sights suggest, hasten to breathe the pure air of the country. There, amid clipped hedges and shady lanes, by the gloriously green meads and mantling fields of wheat, by grove-crowned hills stretching their velvet-slippered feet down to the tiny rivers that purl and curl along the vales below, where all seems like Eden, and the meanest dwellings are picturesque with thatch and creeping rose or running vine, there at all events, say you, shall we find healthy and happy homes ! You reach village after vil- lage, and farm after farm, in some of the most populous southern counties, and con- verse with the old bent men who still ply the spade, or with the women who are toiling in the fields. They will take you to the cottage, with its THE AGRICULTURAL LABOURERS. 59 little attic, where they and their seven, eight, or nine children have slept together for fifteen or twenty years. If you are a novelist of the modern school in search of new and horrible crimes, you may get some stories from the old women about their sons and daughters, which, if your soul does not shrink from see- ing human nature dissected and exposed in such ghastly shape, will enable you to outvie the most sensational authors in their peculiar line. I dare not hint to you American ladies and gentlemen of those things which benevo- lent Samaritans are obliged to sound of the depths of sorrow and wickedness in those fair country districts. Earning ten or eleven shillings a week ; on that expected to bring up their families ; regularly falling back in winter on the poor-rates ; always resorting to the parish dispensary and doctor in times of sickness ; ignorant, famine-fed, with a distress which has no outlet and little reprieve, such is the lot in many a district of merry England of those who till the soil. 6o GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. XXX. STORY OF A FARM LABOURER AT LUDLOW. story of a I heard a man at Ludlow, before a farm labourer at crowded meeting of employes and labourers Ludlow. ^ , who had known him from his youth, tell the simple story of his experiences in life. ' I was the son of a farm labourer. He earnt 8s. a week. I began as a boy to scare the crows, and went on till I could plough and drive a team, and reap and do amost anything. When I married, wages were nine shillin a week. We had five children, and then my wife fell ill. She were ill for two year off and on, lying in her bed, and slowly dying the whole time. The doctor said she wanted better food. We had nothing more to eat but bread, and a drop o' cabbage soup, and a bit o' bacon now and then. The doctor said the best thing for her was milk. I went to missis, (theer warn't no milk to be bought in the neighbourhood), and told her what the doctor said, and asked her fur to STORY OF A FARM LABOURER. 6 1 sell me a little milk every day for my wife. She said, " Do 'ee spoase I can sell 'ee any milk when I want it to fatten the pigs ? " My wife didn't have no milk, and she died. I asked maister to increase my wages. He says, " No, Robert, I can't do that without the rest do it. If I was to rise wages 'thout they agreed, I daresent show my face to market. I can't afoord to pay no more wages." ' When you consider that these are not isolated and anomalous facts, but that they suggest the realities ofmundreds of thousands of lives, you will begin dimly to apprehend the extent and gravity of the problems which the English reformer has to face. XXXI. THE POOR LAWS AND PAUPERISM. But the picture is not yet complete. Before The Poov . I outline its redeeming features — and thank pauperism. God, there is sunshine too ! — there are yet shadows to be added. When Dante was 62 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. investigating the infernal regions he was always coming on some place or incident worse than the last. So I have yet to intro- duce you, and I do it with a practical pur- pose as you will see, to that fearful closet of our great English house — the Poor-law System. Pauperism in England — that is, as a sys- tem of systematised poverty — is the growth of three hundred years. Taking its spring from the days of Henry VIII., it was esta- blished by an Act passed in the forty-third year of Queen Elizabeth. The principle of that Act is communistic. It is that everyone in England who cannot find or undertake employment is entitled to relief from the state : * perhaps/ says Professor Fawcett, ' the most perilous responsibility ever assumed by a nation.' At first this relief was restricted, being given only to the impotent poor, and in the workhouse ; the able-bodied poor were compelled to work for it. In about a hundred and fifty years, whether it were owing to an increase of population in excess of the field of employ- THE POOR-LAWS AND PAUPERISM. 6$ ment, or from whatever circumstance, the number of claimants increased, unions of parishes were formed, and that practice of assisting able-bodied persons either wholly or in part without obliging them to enter a workhouse, now called ' outdoor relief,' was by degrees introduced. Men received grants See of money in aid of wages. Women received on^Pau- assistance in their homes. The greater the etc. number of children a man had the more he obtained from the guardians of the poor. So burdensome were the incidents of this system that Lazvs of Settlement were enacted to im- pose the responsibility of keeping these people on the parishes in which they were born or wherein they had lived for a certain length of time. The rates became enormous. The labouring classes, too well provided for, and sure of a maintenance, were thoroughly demoralised. In one case three generations of the same family were found to be receiving relief and drawing from the rates ioo/. a year. In one parish in Berkshire, the whole land was offered to the assembled paupers, but they refused it, preferring the ease of recipience to the troubles of ownership. pensm, 64 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. Modifica- The intolerable is an active, if displeasing tion of the Poor-Law. promoter of improvement. A new poor-law was one of the earliest products of the Re- form Parliament ; restraints were placed on the profligate system of outdoor relief, and matters improved under the influence of in- creasing prosperity ; but notwithstanding the marvellous development of English manu- factures and commerce, spite of free corn and free-trade, spite of reform legislation, better social conditions, zealous religion, active philanthropy, and lavish charities — spite of colonial emigration and an enormous exodus to the United States, there still lies upon the breast of England that ceaseless incubus of indolence and imbecility. In London one in every seven of the population receives relief in some shape or other from the poor-law authorities during the year. In i860 the population was 2,770,000, with 86,000 paupers. In 1863 the population was 2,904,000, with 94,000 paupers. In 1869 the population was 3,082,000, with 126,000 paupers. THE POOR-LAWS AND PAUPERISM. 65 Costing 1,175,000/. stg., or $5,875,000 per annum. In 1870 the population was 3,215,000, with 141,000 paupers. Costing 1,466,000/. stg., or $7,330,000 per annum. In England one in every twenty is a pauper. What would you think in New York if every seventh man you met in the street were living on rates taken from vour pocket ? Or if in journeying over the union you knew every twentieth person to be in effect a beggar ? Through the whole country the paupers, exclusive of vagrants and casual poor, had increased in 1870 to 1,079,391. Happily, for the last two years the numbers have been materially less, but they are still at a standard you would deem to be fearful. In 1872 there were 977,664, of whom 153,000 were able- bodied adults. In some of the United States, where a system of poor relief analogous to that of England has been adopted, there are already symptoms of similar results. In various large F 66 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. cities during this crisis the working men have advanced the dangerous demand for state works or state support. I warn you to be careful ! Mr. Fawcett points out that in Philadelphia, out of 120,000 poor persons receiving assistance, 110,000 received out- door relief. Such a statement is incredible — its verity is portentous for your future. Once encourage this vicious system — once admit in a country where no able-bodied man need starve, that he may rely for assistance on state or private charity without the condi- tion of entering a workhouse or engaging in labour for it, and a process of demoralisation will have begun, the end whereof none of you can forecast. You will have adopted a cub that may grow up to swallow its master. The results of this vicious system are illustrated in a startling way by Professor Fawcett. In England, where outdoor relief is given, the proportion of outdoor to indoor paupers is eight to one. In Ireland, land of misery and turmoil, with restrictions on out- door relief, the proportion is reversed, viz. five indoor to one outdoor, and the whole THE POOR-LAWS AND PAUPERISM. 6 J number of Irish paupers in a country of five and a half millions of people is one-half that of London alone. In the Highlands of Scotland, where the system of outdoor relief has been adopted, there is twelve times as much pauperism as in Ulster and Connaught. In England one in every twenty is a pauper ; in Scotland, one in every twenty-three ; in Ireland only one in every seventy-four. These facts are more eloquent than any Principles of chari- warning I could utter. The only principles table relief. on which charity, public or private, can be safely administered, are, that no man should be helped who can help himself, and that charity, public and private, should be or- ganised and concurrently administered. It is very hard to be obliged to say that private charity is often blind, stupid, profligate, and wanton in its management, but it is a truth we have learned in England. Remember that every act of relief to an able-bodied man or woman to whom any means of inde- pendent subsistence is both a duty and possi- bility, is a demoralisation of the recipient and an injury to society. F 2 . The four principal perils of English society. 68 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. But I am not giving you a social-science lecture. I had only to point out to you what a monster we entertain in English society. There are in the West Indies minute para- sites that eat their way into the skin, and by and by lay their bag of eggs and encroach more upon the flesh until they produce a painful ulcer a thousand times larger than themselves, and which may even become fatal. Such a parasite is indolent and volun- tary poverty, encouraged or unregarded — a pest you should soon and vigorously eradicate. XXXII. THE FOUR PRINCIPAL PERILS OF ENGLISH SOCIETY. I think you will now be able to under- stand me when I state that the principal perils of English society are four in number. They arise ; i. From the efforts made by the upper and wealthy classes to retard the advancing power and resist the just claims of the working man. PERILS OF ENGLISH SOCIETY. 69 2. From that mass of pauperism which I have described, which lives on the rates and seems to have such a horrible mystery of propagation. 3. From the terrible, unparalleled power of degradation which, with increasing tyranny, is wielded by strong drink. And, 4. From the deficiency of incitements, moral and material, to thrift and ambition among the working classes. XXXIII. FIRST DANGER: THE RELATION OF THE WORKING MAN TO POLITICS AND CAPITAL. The first danger, you will observe, is both First danger — political and social. Of this I might say the rela- tion of the enough to occupy a whole lecture. It has working- man to many branches. There is, for instance, the politics and agricultural labourer question. The resurrec- capital. tion of hinds — living half on the rates and half on a pittance the bare mention of which stirs your compassion, the slaves without being the property of their masters, ought 70 GLANCES A T INNER ENGLAND. now to be a familiar story to you. I have never seen anything that has so moved me as I have been moved when I have stood by and watched these hopeless sons of toil,, long blinded to their rights and possibilities of improvement, opening their eyes to the blessed dawn of a better day under the stirring eloquence of Joseph Arch. When they began to gather from him the en- couraging assurance that there were privileges of manhood which they might assert, and opportunities to win a better future for their children, it was infinitely pitiful, yet, O how gladdening ! — to hear them blurting out their awakening ideas and half-timid yet invincible resolves. Effects of This movement must lead to important the agri- ._,'., . T cuitm-ai changes in English agriculture. It will alter labourers' resunec- the system of tenancy — it may cause the conversion of a great deal of arable land into pasturage ; it will quicken emigration. Above all, it is a Radical movement when the agricultural labourer gets the franchise, and must give impetus to the political and social changes impending in Great Britain. THE TRADES UNIONS. 7 1 XXXIV. THE TRADES UNIONS. Hand-in-glove with the Agricultural The Unions are the great Trades Unions in Unions. the towns, numbering hundreds of thousands of members, with incomes of many thousands of pounds. In their contest with capital these Unions are very powerful — in their political combination they have been, as yet, weak and unsuccessful. They have wanted clear political aims — sound political judgment — trust in their leaders — and too often leaders whom they could trust. Hence they have readily exposed themselves to the gibes of the satirical journals of the privileged classes, or to the wanton and savage needle-thrusts of social cynics like Mr. W, R. Greg. But they are gradually emerging from the valley of shadows, they can already discern the anti- quated giants of privilege, trembling and biting their nails with futile anger ; and they will go on, prepared by experience and en- lightened by education, to victorious contests and a better life. *F 4 72 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. XXXV. THE BATTLE BETWEEN CAPITAL AND LABOUR. The battle Capitalist and Unionist are cutting each capital and other's throats in England, as they are the labour. world over. The former has not yet learned that the conditions of contract are changed for ever, and that slavery at a low price can no longer be had for love or money. The Unionist, pressing for his rights, and too often ignorant of the real limits of those rights, asks too much or grasps it too eagerly, and threatens to kill the goose that lays the golden egg. Every allowance must be made for men who after centuries of injustice and of ignorance are made suddenly alive to their opportunities, but I, who sympathise with them and work with them, warn them not to go too fast and too far. So surely as they do, the reaction will come, with fatal retri- bution. Those who, from other classes, take part with them in this great struggle, spite of CAPITAL AND LABOUR. >]$ their occasional wrong-doing, their blindness, and their suspicions, are truer conservatives than the men who with sharp, cruel, and bitter words make light of their complaints, laugh at their claims, abuse their ignorance, and attempt to vindicate the arrogant and un- tenable claims of privilege and money. On both sides we need firmness and moderation. The old conditions, the old relations of capital and labour, are to be changed, are now changing. Some better methods of apportioning their respective profits must inevitably be devised. Large establishments are now successfully Co-opera- tion and conducted in England on the principle of co- industna partner- operation or of Industrial Partnerships. I ships. understand that the great steel works in course of erection at Glasgow, under the supervision of Mr. Michael Scott, who has given to this subject considerable attention, and has also tested it in practice, are to be managed on the Industrial Partnership prin- ciple. Every capitalist at this crisis — nay, I The crisis. would say every friend of humanity, — should 74 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND, give himself to study the relations of capital and labour, and bend all his intellect, energy, and influence to smooth the change from the old to the new regime. However unpalatable the statement, that change is inevitable. It is attended with lamentable incidents. I have to own as to English workmen, as you will own as to those of America, how much of tyranny, of ingratitude, of absolute wrong- doing, of degraded use of improved circum- stances, has come under my own notice. But then conceive what a class must be growing up in such conditions as I have described to you. The effects are truly de- plorable. In one case I heard of a large ironmaster who had treated his men with unwonted liberality, and yet again and again found himself forced in the middle of some critical contract to raise their wages. Last year, as he was leaving for the continent, and giving directions to his manager, he said : 1 At the end of the year you will not give the usual Christmas treat. Call the men together and discharge the whole of them. I'll have nothing more to do with working- men again.' CAPITAL AND LABOUR. 75 A printer in London, who employs a large number of men, said to me : ' My men came last week and asked me if we were going to have the annual summer picnic I have been in the habit of giving them, and I turned them out of the office. They have been striking every six weeks, and they may pay for their own treats. They'll get no treats out of me.' This gentleman is a man not only of benevolence but of benevolent energy, but you see his sympathies are warped by his sense of injury. To me these are gravely significant facts. They could be indefinitely multiplied. They indicate a state of things which must be either appeased or give place to open war. Capitalists, who in existing circumstances insist on the old regime, or threaten to withdraw their capital from manu- factures — a silly and impracticable proceeding, as every economist knows — are assuming a terrible responsibility. They will then be left to face the question, ' What are these men to do without work ? ' And when lately in Wales a clique of capitalists were with- j6 GLANCES. AT INNER ENGLAND. standing 40,000 miners and ironworkers, the increased police, the prepared soldiery, and the fear of all England, showed what that may involve. 1 1 These passages, written some months before the event, acquire increased significance from the recent movement of capitalists to establish a federation of capital. That the Eng- lish upper and wealthy classes were living in a fool's paradise, that they walked the upper ground unconscious of the peril- ous forces that were gathering beneath them, I have long maintained, but I could scarcely have conceived that they were so infatuated as these men seem to be. The gods must be in conspiracy against them. Mr. Bradlaugh and Mr. Odger could not have devised or desired a move better calculated to give a momentum to their projects. The antagonism of capital and labour was already defined with sufficient sharp- ness, and the difficulties of approximation were already too glaring. The capitalists were already combined by facts, and interests, and superiority of position, of ability, of politi- cal power, of privileges. It was all this, involving absolute supremacy, which necessitated on the part of the workmen organised combination for the purpose of asserting their simple rights and securing the position to treat on equal terms. But what shall we think of an association deliber- ately framed with the hostile object of fighting the unions with their own weapons ? I hope the workmen of Great Britain will observe the full significance of this proceeding. It was not enough to have had nearly the whole political power, to have for long years legislated chiefly for their own benefit, to have legislated directly against trades' combinations, to have governed by a House of Commons in which there is not a single working man. The capitalists now proclaim a crusade against labour ; they throw down the gage of war where everything, the happiness and prosperity of Great Britain, the Conservation ot her institutions, nay, of society itself, was calling out in the CAPITAL AND LABOUR. "J J This portentous question is beginning to shake the very pillars of society in almost every part of the civilised world. The Coolie, the Negro, the immigrants into western lands, most solemn tones for compromise and peace ! Hitherto the working-classes have been disorganised and fitful in their political and social action. Can there be any doubt that fronting this new power they will close together and be as one man ? There is one word, however, which in the interests of peace I must utter. At the end of Little Hodge I en- deavoured to illustrate a theory of pacification which has for some time appeared to me to be the most hopeful one. It was that a more complete organisation of the opposing forces might be the necessary precedent of their federation. In matters of this kind, where hostilities have to be compro- mised, there can be nothing better than two responsible bodies in a position to treat with each other. While there- fore it is clear that the working-men must now prepare to meet in fair combat the body which so directly challenges them, it would be criminal to overlook the fact that this body may probably before long become a means of compro- mising the most threatening issues. The worst feature of the new association is its expressed aim to promote the 'freedom of labour/ that is, as the Spectator properly says, to dis- courage combination. The other objects of the association are in themselves legitimate and harmless. If they can get working-men to read their arguments, and adopt them and endorse them at the polls, well and good. But I point out to them, as I point out to the workmen, that if they will throw aside the foolish and insane attack upon combination, it is possible that the more thorough the organisation on both sides the more satisfactory may be the settlement. Neither side can hope to suppress the unions of the other, but they can expect to meet them on equal terms, and to come to arrangements of universal application and benefit. tion ? 7 8 . GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. the English artisan and peasant, the French and German workman, all alike are conspir- ing together to demand for labour a larger reward, a better coparcenary with capital. what is Is there to be no end to this unholy war ? the solu- Can humanity or Christianity invent no means of reconciling the irreconcilable, or is the frightful aphorism of Hobbes to be veri- fied and the natural state of man be perpetuated and aggravated in a condition of civilisation ? In God's name let every man, be he on one side or the other, lend a hand to stay the fratricidal strife ! Failing this, to neither side is there anything but ruin or dismay. I say to the capitalist solemnly and urgently : \ Recognise the inevitable as you would when you saw the hurricane sweeping along over the main ; take in sail, bout ship if need be, and sail before the wind. Make friends with forces that may be either friendly or hostile, as you will.' I say to the labourer : * Stay your hand. You have the numbers, and your victory is sure. Beware that it be not a contest over a stripped and barren land. Use your organi- CAPITAL AND LABOUR. 79 sations not as a means of oppression but justice. You might succeed too well — in losing all.' XXXVI. DRINK AND PAUPERISM. As to drink, with an increasing consump- Drink and pauperism. tion every quarter swelling the revenue, the in- crease chiefly extracted from the better wages of the labouring class, I must leave you to imagine how terrible a subject that is. Drink is now an organised political power, returning brewers and distillers to Parliament, aiding Anglican and Papal divinity, degrading the constituencies, nay, demoralising the very government, which is obliged to make terms with the disastrous tyrant. Against this, and against the third peril, that of pauperism, temperance and social reformers are striving with noble energy, and not without hope. 8o GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. XXXVII. THE FOURTH DANGER: DEFICIENCY OF INCITEMENTS TO THRIFT The fourth The fourth danger, namely, that of the ab- danger— . . deficiency sence of incitements, moral and material, to of incite- ments to thrift among the working classes, is more complicated and raises deeper issues. The effect of that poor-law which I have described, has been to sap the independent spirit of the labourers. In England it is but little a man can save, and that little di- minishes his prospects of help from the guar- dians of the poor. The poor-law reverses the maxim of Christ, ' To him that hath shall be given.' It is the careless, thriftless man or woman who, in old age, can retire to the poor-house or obtain the benefits of outdoor relief. Do you wonder that men are impro- vident under such a system ? Do you won- der that such a system has not confuted itself to the densest English intellect after two hundred years and more of trial ? DEFICIENT INCITEMENTS TO THRIFT. 8 1 But ' besides the poor-law,' I am quoting Professor r . Fawcett. Professor Fawcett, ' another circumstance Discour- agement to which discourages prudential habits among saving. the working classes is the feeling that no amount of saving which it is possible for them to make will give them any reasonable prospect of rising in life.' There is little hope, or scope either, in business. The amount a working man can save is too small to enable any number to compete with larger capitalists and more accustomed tradesmen. Nor will their savings generally enable them to buy land. A monopoly in the hands of The land monopoly. the wealthy, subject to the disabilities created by primogeniture, which locks up large tracts of it in one family from generation to gene- ration ; held in masses by great corporations ; settled in the hands of trustees ; land, the most valuable heritage of society, is in Eng- land and Scotland the property of a few. Vast districts are destitute, and have been deliberately emptied of population to make room for sheep, grouse, or red-deer. Class laws, protecting game for the amusement of aristocrats and rich commoners, give the *g Our colo- nies and our states- men. 82 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. land not only the nature of a luxury but also a factitious value for purposes foreign to the public good. The same laws operate to the discouragement of agriculture. The expenses of land transfer under a complicated land system are so great that a man who pur- chased a freehold property under 500/. in value would probably pay from 60/. to 100/. in law expenses. Thus the best field of ambition for a working man, the hope of acquiring a piece of land to till and dwell on, is denied to the English million. Is there any other outlet for the seething population ? Yes. There are our colonies and the United States, rich, free, crying out for the strong arms that at home dig and delve with hopeless energy for a daily skinful of meat and drink, to come and win an estate for themselves and their children. This opening we have for years urged the Government to facilitate. But the economist, bound to his fatal laws of supply and de- mand, has refused to listen ; the statesman, at once aristocrats and capitalist's friend, has declined to promote a reduction in the num- OUR COLONIES AND OUR STATESMEN. 83 ber of British labourers, whatever the conse- quences ; both economist and statesman, in- different to anything but present material prosperity, have stigmatised the colonies as a useless burden and emigration as a blunder ; and the result is that they who might have made a whole empire strong and prosperous, who might have relieved the perilous plethora at home, facilitated the solution of some of our gravest problems, and developed in our pos- sessions a wealth that would have re-esta- blished English supremacy in the world, are left to meet those fearful conditions which I have depicted, while they have imperilled the very integrity of an empire whose splen- dour and extent were eulogised by Daniel Webster in words that can never die. In speaking to you of the England of to- Threat- ened decay- day, there is no confession I have to make of the imperial more mortifying than that of the threatened sentiment. decay of the imperial sentiment — that in- variable preliminary of national degradation. I say threatened, but happily, I trust, averted. It is in high quarters that we have seen these symptoms of degradation ; but only among a g 2 84 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. select circle of economists or politicians. It is said that one of our greatest statesmen, not long since conversing with a gentleman, who in speaking of the British Empire argued that were it denuded of its colonies it would dwindle to the position of Holland, replied — 1 And what of that ? Is not a Hollander as happy as an Englishman ? ' There is no more significant symptom of national decadence than the dying out of the imperial sentiment. It is perilous enough when a people coddled in luxury and surfeited with riches begin to be in- different to the national safety, but it is fatal when they count with parsimonious thrift the cost of maintaining their integrity, and would purchase ease and peace with the loss of .some of the national soil. Had a temper so ignoble begun to canker this great common- wealth, and had the disease entered so deep that not even the sharp knife of war could excise it, who would not have said, as he looked upon the inglorious though mighty fragments of a nation so soon disjointed, DECAY OF THE IMPERIAL SENTIMENT. 85 that its people had been miscreants, un- deserving of their freedom and unworthy of their greatness ? In England, against this spirit of cold, unnatural economy, there have fortunately been men found to protest. When, some time ago, ministers gave vent to significant expressions of indifference to the loyalty of the colonies, withdrew British soldiers from Canada and New Zealand, when Mr. Glad- stone suggested that the most a British states- man could do was to prepare the way for colonial independence, there was an outburst of feeling in England which showed that the British lion was not yet dead. He would be a reckless minister who would now stand up in the House of Commons to propose the separation of the colonies from Great Britain ; and that would be a daring nation, which, relying on the British love of peace, should Venture to violate one foot of our vast terri- tories, or to attempt to seduce any colony from its allegiance. 86 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. XXXVIII. THE INHERENT GREATNESS AND STRENGTH OF ENGLAND INDICA TED B Y THE STEADI- NESS OF HER PROGRESS IN REFORM. The in- Were I speaking of any other country you herent greatness might well say that I had been depicting a and strength of condition of things which was hopeless. But England & r indicated we are speaking of England — a land accus- steadiness tomed to disconcert probabilities and pro- of her pro- by the steadin of her ] RefV n phecies. For our wonderful nation carries these evils stoutly, and with every promise of redress. What marvels have not our re- formers already achieved without bloodshed or rebellion ! No period of history is more fruitful and extraordinary than that of Great Britain since the beginning of this century. Recall the names of our reformers — of Wilberforce, of Brougham, of Peel, of Russell, of Cobden and Bright, of Gladstone, what a history of judicious and ever-progressive statesmanship do they suggest ! REVIEW OF REFORMS. 8 J Slavery was abolished at a cost of Review of Reforms. 20,000,000/. sterling. Before the year 1828 no dissenter could hold a corporate office without taking the communion in the Church of England ; and in that year Lord John Russell — a man greater and more fortunate in his home than his foreign policy — had the Test and Corporation Acts repealed. That was the beginning of a struggle for the liberation of religion in England which is •not yet ended. Next the reformers proceeded to remove the political and civil disabilities which at that time debarred Roman Catholics from enjoying the full rights of citizenship. The first Reform Bill, enlarging the con- stituencies and abolishing the worst of those pocket-boroughs which gave to their aristo- cratic owners the privilege of returning mem- bers to Parliament, came next. The Reform of the Constituencies was followed by the Reform of Municipal Cor- porations and of the Poor Law, and by that measure which with its collateral develop- ments of Free Trade has made England the wealthiest of nations, I mean the Repeal of 88 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. the Corn Laws. Next followed to perdition the old navigation laws. Later on we have had another Reform Bill presented to us by Mr. Disraeli, giving household suffrage in the towns, though not yet in the counties. We have disestablished the Irish Church ; we have reformed the Irish land laws ; we have abolished the compulsory payment of rates to the Established Church by Dissen- ters ; we have admitted Jews to Parliament ; we have framed, though not yet perfected, a great national system of education ; we have begun to reform the laws relating to Public Health ; we have reorganised that strong- hold of privilege the Army, and have im- proved our system of Judicature ; we now protect voters in municipal and parliamen- tary elections by the Ballot. Such a list of reforms accomplished in the lifetime of one man, like Earl Russell, who has taken more or less part in all these measures, while it recalls to you the intolerable conditions of English society and politics at the beginning of this century, also indicates the inherent greatness and vitality of a nation which, en- REVIEW OF REFORMS. 89 gaged in battling with evils so prodigious, has nevertheless gone on developing in popu- lation, and wealth, and commerce and manu- factures, in religion and philanthropy, at a rate, taking all these things together, hardly surpassed by any other nation. Striking in- deed would be the history, had I time to review it, of the social changes wrought in England, of its material development, of the improved condition of its artisans, of the magnificence of its charities. Still I have shown you how much there remains for the reformer to do ; what dangers evil laws, bad statesmanship, centuries of wrong, class privi- lege, wicked wars, and vices permitted to grow into the body politic, have left us. I pray you be careful, as men who hold in your hands the destinies of the future, that you leave not to your posterity the dreadful legacy of such problems as these. There are ever sprouting in the body politic the beginnings of parasitical growths that may, like tropical vines, embrace and kill the tree on which they climb. 90 GLANCES AT INNER ENGLAND. XXXIX. REFORM IN ENGLAND IS SLOW AND STEADY. Reform in Fortunately for England, her people are slow and slow and steady in their methods of reform. steady. . In other nations the evils long endured among us would have been swept away by torrents of blood. With us they have dis- appeared in more dignified and benignant courses. The deeply imprinted love of order, of constitution, of law, is the real safety of England amidst dangers that blanch the cheek of a thinking man. Reforms with us win their successes not only over the wills but over the wits of the people. And the truest, healthiest reforms must ever work thus. I love ever to hear the voice of reform coming not in the mighty rushing wind but in the still small voice that penetrates to and moves the minds and the hearts of the people. It comes best not as the hurricane, or the deluge, or the earthquake, but as the majestic swelling of the mighty tide, rising REFORM SLOW AND STEADY. 91 with slow but omnipotent force, kissing its way from pebble to pebble, moving so gently that the frailest shallop floats unharmed upon its smiling bosom ; and by and by it reaches some ancient rock of privilege, some hardened relic of vested wrong, and circling around it with heightening waters at length overtops and hides it from view ; and now and then it reaches some bark of reform, stranded or never launched, and with gradual but resist- less power raises it inch by inch and foot by foot, until at length, as it floats free upon the smiling surface, the mariners within can hoist their sails and bear away, freighted with blessings for all mankind. LONDON ! PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET cc c < cc. 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