And now with respect to the manner in which Sir Francis Crossley
fulfilled the vow of his mother. "On the 10th of September, 1855," he
said, "I left Quebec early in the morning, for the White Mountains in
the United States. I remember passing through some of the most glorious
scenery I had ever seen. On reaching the hotel at the White Mountains, I
went out alone for an evening walk. It was a beautiful spot. The sun was
just declining behind Mount Washington, amidst all the glorious drapery
of an American sunset. I felt as if I was walking with God. 'What,' said
I, 'shall I render for all His benefits to me? Lord, what wilt Thou have
me to do?' The answer came immediately. It was this: 'It is true thou
canst not bring the many thousands thou has left behind thee in thy
native country, to see this beautiful scenery, but thou canst take such
scenery to them. It is possible so to arrange art and nature that they
shall be within the reach of every working man in Halifax; that he shall
go and take his evening walk there, after his day's toil has been done.'
Well, that seemed to me a glorious thought! I walked home, and my prayer
that night was, that in the morning I might feel that my thought was
justified, and that I might be spared to put it in execution. I slept
soundly that night, and when I awoke my impression was confirmed. On the
10th of September, when I left Quebec for the White Mountains, I had no
more idea of making a park than any one here has of building a city. On
the day I reached home, I felt as convinced that I should carry out my
thought, as I was of my own existence. And from that day to this I have
never flinched from the undertaking, whatever difficulties might arise.
It is a happy day for me that I have been permitted to see the result,
in the People's Park that has been opened to-day."

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

[Footnote 1: The Park is situated in the centre of the borough of
Halifax, and covers twelve acres and a half of ground. It cost Sir
Francis Crossley ВЈ35,000, who also gave to the Corporation ВЈ6,300 to be
invested for its maintenance.]

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

The results of this system have proved entirely satisfactory; the
directors reporting that "the active energies of all parties necessary
to ensure success have been fully enlisted. They claim originality, in
their method of securing the direct interest of the _employГ©s_, and they
rejoice in being able to report that the system has more than realized
their highest expectations."[1] At the present time, the _employГ©s_ hold
shares in the company, of the value of about thirty thousand pounds; and
the deposit bank, founded for the use of the workpeople exclusively,
contains money-savings amounting to more than sixteen thousand pounds!
And thus the vow of Martha Crossley, that the poor should taste of the
prosperity of John Crossley and Sons, has been amply and nobly
fulfilled!

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

One of the most promising of co-operative undertakings established by
employers for the benefit of their workpeople, was that of the Messrs.
Briggs and Son, of Whitwood collieries, near Wakefield. The collieries
were converted into a limited company in 1865. The working colliers were
made partners in the prosperity of the concern to this extent,--that
whenever the divisible profits accruing from the business in any year,
after making allowance for depreciation, exceeded ten per cent, on the
capital embarked, all those employed by the company were to receive
one-half of such excess profit as a bonus, to be distributed amongst
them in proportion to their respective earnings during the year. The
object of the owners was to put an end to strikes, which had sometimes
placed them in peril of their lives, and also to enable them to live on
better terms with their workpeople. The colliers were invited to become
shareholders, and thus to take a personal interest in the prosperity of
the concern.

The project was received with great favour by the friends of
co-operation. Mr. John Stuart Mill, in his Principles of Political
Economy, announced that "the Messrs. Briggs had taken the _first step_;
and that it was highly honourable on the part of those employers of
labour to have initiated a system so full of benefit both to the
operatives employed and to the general interests of social improvement."
Mr. Hughes, M.P., after visiting the collieries, expressed his surprise
at the great success achieved in the first year of working the
collieries as a partnership of industry. "I believe," he said to the
owners, "that in taking this step you have done a great work for
England, and one which will be gratefully recognized before long by the
country." The promoters also claimed a reward from the Paris Universal
Exhibition, for having been "the first large employers in England who
have allowed all their workpeople, whether co-shareholders with them or
not, to participate in all divisible profits beyond a fixed percentage
on the paid-up capital of the company."

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

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

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

The firm of Fox, Head, and Co. also admitted their workmen to a
partnership of profits. They had for some time been much annoyed by
strikes. Their works had stood idle for about a fourth of the whole time
that had elapsed since their commencement. The system of co-operation
was adopted in 1866, at the close of a long strike. One of the
conditions of the scheme was that Fox, Head, and Co. should not be
members of any association of employers, and that the workmen should not
be members of any trades union. The original intention was to pay the
workmen a bonus according to profits. They eventually adopted the
practice of the Messrs. Briggs and Co., which was, to divide the profits
over ten per cent. into two parts: the one to belong to the capitalists
as their profit, and the other to be divided amongst all those who had
received wages or salaries during the year, in proportion to the amount
received by them. An opportunity was also afforded to the workmen of
depositing their savings with the firm; but as there was only one
instance, during three years, of a workman applying to invest his
savings, this clause was withdrawn.

In consequence of the depressed state of the iron trade, there were no
profits to be divided during the first two years. The men were, however,
paid the current rate of wages, and were saved the expenses of Union
levies. The co-operative store, which had been founded by the workmen,
was in a very prosperous condition. In the third year of the
co-operative scheme, a bonus of two and a half per cent, was divided
between the employers and the employed. The workmen also received an
advance of five per cent. in wages. In the fourth year the wages of the
workmen were further increased ten per cent., and this took the cream
off the bowl. However, a bonus of four per cent. was paid on the wages
and salaries received by the _employГ©s_ during that year. At the meeting
held to communicate the result of the year's business, Mr. Head said:--

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

The coal famine began to tell upon the iron-workers. The furnaces were
often laid off for want of coal. The principal causes of the bad supply
of coal arose from shorter hours of labour, and higher wages for less
work. Yet a bonus of three and a quarter per cent, was allowed on the
wages and salaries received by the _employГ©s_ during the year 1871. The
co-operative stores continued to be very productive, and many of the
members saved considerable sums of money. In the next year, a bonus of
three and a half per cent, was divided. But difficulties were in store.
The coal famine continued. The employers of labour held meetings to
resist the successive advances of wages, and to counteract the
operations of the trades unions.

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

It was of no use. The men's wages went up twenty per cent.; and there
was an end of the bonuses. The coal famine continued. The masters,
instead of making profits, made immense losses. The price of iron went
down. The mills stood idle for two months. The result was, that when the
masters next met the workmen in public meeting, Mr. Waterhouse, the
auditor, reported that "while the gross earnings of the year have
exceeded the expenditure on materials, wages, and trade charges, they
have been insufficient to cover the full amounts to be provided under
the co-operative scheme for interest on capital, depreciation, and the
reserve for bad debts; and that consequently it was his duty to declare
that no amount was at present payable as bonus either to employers or
employed." No further report was issued in 1875, excepting an
announcement that there was no dividend, and that the firm did not
intend to continue the co-operative scheme any longer. During the time
that it lasted, the _employГ©s_ had received about eight thousand pounds
in bonuses.

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

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

Fortunately, there is not a great deal of truth in this letter, nor in
the "heartfelt prayer" to Shoddy. The Right Hon. Mr. Forster ought to
know something of labour and capital, and at a recent meeting of the
Cobden Club he stated that "they were often told that they had a war
within their borders between labour and capital; but as an employer of
labour ever since he came to manhood, he would only say that he never
knew a time in which employer and employed were on better terms."

The late Sir Francis Crossley observed that there was a good deal of
unreasonable feeling abroad. It was held by some that it was wrong for
working men to sell their labour at the best price; but it must be
remembered that their labour was the only thing they had to sell; and
the best thing to do was to leave those matters to take their natural
course. It was a great mistake, on the part of employers, to suppose
that the lowest-priced labour was always the cheapest. If there was not
so much desire to run down the price of labour, and the masters showed a
more conciliatory spirit, there would be fewer strikes and outrages.

"What a contrast between now and say only a hundred years ago!"
Certainly there is a very great contrast. England was not a
manufacturing country a hundred years ago. We imported nearly
everything, except corn, wool, and flax. We imported the greatest part
of our iron from Spain, Sweden, Germany, and Russia. We imported our
pottery from Holland, our hats from Flanders, our silk from France, our
cloth and carpets from Belgium. Our cotton manufactures, our woollen and
flax manufactures, our machine manufactures, could scarcely be said to
exist. Coal could scarcely be had, for the coal-pits could not be kept
clear of water.

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

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

A hundred years ago, Ireland was treated like a conquered country; and
hangings and shootings of rebels were frequent. The fleet at the Nore
mutinied; and the mutiny was put down by bloodshed and executions. Towns
and cities swarmed with ruffians; and brutal sports and brutal language
existed to a frightful degree. Criminals were hanged, five or six
together, at Tyburn. Gibbets existed at all the cross-roads throughout
the country. The people were grossly ignorant, and altogether neglected.
Scepticism and irreligion prevailed, until Wesley and Whitfield sprang
up to protest against formalism and atheism. They were pelted with
rotten eggs, sticks, and stones. A Methodist preacher was whipped out of
Gloucester.

A hundred years ago, literature was at a very low ebb. The press was in
a miserable state. William Whitehead was Poet Laureate! Who knows of him
now? Gibbon had not written his "Decline and Fall." _Junius_ was the
popular writer. Political corruption was scarified in his letters. The
upper classes were coarse, drunken, and ill-mannered. Bribery and
corruption on the grossest scale were the principal means for getting
into Parliament. Mr. Dowdeswell, M.P. for Worcestershire, said to the
Commons, "You have turned out a member for impiety and obscenity. What
halfdozen members of this House ever meet over a convivial bottle, that
their discourse is entirely free from obscenity, impiety, or abuse of
Government?"

Though drunkenness is bad enough now, it was infinitely worse a hundred
years ago. The publican's signboards announced, "You may here get drunk
for a penny, dead-drunk for twopence, and have clean straw for nothing."
Drunkenness was considered a manly vice. To drink deep was the fashion
of the day. Six-bottle men were common. Even drunken clergymen were not
unknown.

What were the popular amusements of the people a hundred years ago? They
consisted principally of man-fighting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, bull
baiting, badger-drawing, the pillory, public whipping, and public
executions. Mr. Wyndham vindicated the ruffianism of the Ring in his
place in Parliament, and held it up as a school in which Englishmen
learnt pluck and "the manly art of self-defence." Bull-baiting was
perhaps more brutal than prize-fighting, though Wyndham defended it as
"calculated to stimulate the noble courage of Englishmen." The bull was
secured to a stake in the market-place or the bull-ring (the name still
survives in many towns), and there the animal was baited by the rabble
dogs of the neighbourhood. One can scarcely imagine the savageness of
the sport--the animal mutilations, the imprecations of ruffians worse
than brutes, the ferociousness and drunkenness, the blasphemy and
unspeakable horrors of the exhibition. The public mind of this day
absolutely revolts at such brutality. Yet, less than a hundred years
ago--on the 24th of May, 1802,--a Bill for the abolition of bull-baiting
was lost in the House of Commons by sixty-four to fifty-one,--Mr.
Wyndham contending that horse-racing and hunting were more cruel than
bull-baiting or prize-fighting!

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

But bull-baiting, cock-fighting, and other ferocious amusements, have
now departed. Even the village stocks have rotted out. Drunkenness has
become disreputable. The "good old times" have departed, we hope never
to return. The labourer has now other resources beside the public-house.
There are exhibitions and people's parks, steamboats and railways,
reading-rooms and coffee-rooms, museums, gardens, and cheap concerts. In
place of the disgusting old amusements, there has come a healthier,
sounder life, greater enlightenment, more general sobriety, and a
humaner spirit. We have in a hundred years outgrown many of our savage
tendencies. We are not less brave as a people, though less brutal. We
are quite as manly, though much less gross. Manners are more refined,
yet as a people we have not lost our pluck, energy, and endurance. We
respect ourselves more, and as a nation we have become more respected.
We now think with shame of the manners of a hundred years ago.

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

And then, see what our inventors have accomplished! James Watt invented
the steam-engine, which in a few years created a large number of new
industries, and gave employment to immense numbers of people. Henry Cort
invented the puddling-process, and enabled England to rely upon its own
stores of iron, instead of depending upon foreign and perhaps hostile
countries. All the docks and harbours round the English coast have been
formed during the present century. The steamboat, the railway, and the
telegraph have only been invented and applied during the last fifty
years.

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

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

It is by means of English workmen and English tools and machines that
continental manufactories themselves have been established; and yet,
notwithstanding their cheaper labour, we should command the foreign
market, but for the prohibitory duties which foreigners impose upon
English manufactures. Mr. Brassey, in his book on _Work and Wages_,
says, "It may be affirmed that as practical mechanics the English are
unsurpassed. The presence of the English engineer, the solitary
representative, among a crew of foreigners, of the mechanical genius of
his country, is a familiar recollection to all who have travelled much
in the steamers of the Mediterranean. Consul Lever says that in the vast
establishment of the Austrian Lloyds at Trieste, a number of English
mechanical engineers are employed, not only in the workshops, but as
navigating engineers in the company's fleet. Although there is no
difficulty in substituting for these men Germans or Swiss, at lower
rates of payment, the uniform accuracy of the English, their
intelligence, their consummate mastery of all the details of their art,
and their resources in every case of difficulty, have entirely
established their superiority."[1]

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

The English are also the best miners, the best tool-makers, the best
instrument-makers, the best "navvies," the best ship-builders, the best
spinners and weavers. Mr. Brassey says that during the construction of
the Paris and Rouen Railway, the Frenchman, Irishman, and Englishman
were employed side by side. In the same quarry at BounierГ©s, the
Frenchman received three francs, the Irishman four, and the Englishman
six; and the last was found to be the most advantageous workman of the
three. The superiority of the English workman over persons of other
nations was equally remarkable whenever there was an opportunity of
employing him side by side with them.

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


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

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

An annual report is furnished to the Government, by our foreign consuls,
with reference to the character and condition of the working classes in
most parts of the civilized world. Mr. Walter, M.P., in a recent address
to an assembly of workmen, referred to one of these reports. He said,
"There is one remark, in particular, that occurs with lamentable
frequency throughout the report,--that, with few exceptions, the foreign
workman does not appear 'to take pride in his work,' nor (to use a
significant expression) to 'put his character into it.' A remarkable
instance of this is mentioned of a country which generally constitutes
an honourable exception to this unhappy rule. Switzerland is a country
famous for its education and its watches; yet the following passage from
the report will show that neither knowledge nor skill will suffice
without the exercise of that higher quality on which I have been
dwelling. 'As a rule,' it says, 'Swiss workmen are competent in their
several trades, and take an interest in their work; for, thanks to their
superior education, they fully appreciate the pecuniary advantages to
their masters, and indirectly to themselves, of adhering strictly to
this course. A striking instance of the impolicy of acting otherwise has
lately happened at St. Imier, in the Bernese Jura, and produced a deep
impression. In this district, for some years past, a great falling off
in the quality of the watches manufactured has taken place, owing to the
inhabitants finding it much more profitable to increase the production
at the cost of the workmanship than to abide by the old rules of the
trade. They prospered beyond all expectation for a considerable time,
but finally their watches got such a bad name that they became
unsaleable, and the result is a general bankruptcy of nearly all the
watchmakers of this particular district."

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

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

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

Although the French workman has nothing like the same facilities for
saving as the English, the _Journal des DГ©bats_ alleges that he saves
ten times as much as his rival. There are only about a thousand savings
banks and branches established in France, and yet two millions of
persons belonging to the lower ranks last year had invested in them
about twenty-eight millions sterling. But the Frenchman of the city
prefers investing in Government Rentes; and the Frenchman of the country
prefers investing in land. All, however, are thrifty, saving, and
frugal; because they are educated in economy from their earliest years.





CHAPTER XII

LIVING BEYOND THE MEANS.


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This false and demoralizing habit arises from the overweening estimate
which is formed of two things, well enough in their place,--rank and
wealth. Everybody struggles to rise into some superior class. The spirit
of caste is found as keenly at work among the humblest as among the
highest ranks. At Birmingham, there was a club of workmen with tails to
their coats, and another without tails: the one looked down upon the
other. Cobbett, so felicitous in his nicknames, called his political
opponent, Mr. Sadler, "a linendraper." But the linendraper also has
plenty of people beneath him. The linendraper looks down on the
huckster, the huckster on the mechanic, and the mechanic on the day
labourer. The flunkey who exhibits his calves behind a baron, holds his
head considerably higher than the flunkey who serves a brewer.

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

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

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

One of the most demoralizing practices of modern refinement is the
"large party" system. People cram their houses with respectable mobs;
thus conforming to a ridiculous custom. Rousseau, with all his
aberrations of mind, said, "I had rather have my house too small for a
day, than too large for a twelvemonth." Fashion exactly reverses the
maxim; and domestic mischief is often begun with a large dwelling and
suitable accommodations. The misfortune consists in this,--that we never
look below our level for an example, but always above it.

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

Everybody can call to mind hundreds of cases of men--"respectable
men"--who, from one extravagance have gone on to another--wantonly
squandering wealth which was not theirs--in order to keep up a worldly
reputation, and cut a figure before their admiring fellows;--all ending
in a sudden smash, a frightful downfall, an utter bankruptcy--to the
ruin, perhaps, of thousands. They have finished up with paying a
respectable dividend of sixpence in the pound! Indeed it is not too much
to say, that five-sixths of the fraud and swindling that disgrace
commercial transactions, have had their origin in the diseased morality
of "keeping up appearances."

To be "respectable," in the false sense of the word,--what is not
sacrificed? Peace, honesty, truth, virtue,--all to keep up appearances.
We must cheat, and scrub, and deceive, and defraud, that "the world" may
not see behind our mask! We must torment and enslave ourselves, because
we must extort "the world's" applause, or at least obtain "the world's"
good opinion!

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

Of this mean and miserable spirit of class and caste, women are the
especial victims. They are generally brought up with false notions of
life, and are taught to estimate men and things rather by their external
appearances than by their intrinsic worth. Their education is conducted
mainly with the view of pleasing and attracting the admiration of
others, rather than of improving and developing their qualities of mind
and heart. They are imbued with notions of exclusiveness, fashion, and
gentility. A respectable position in society is held up to them as the
mark to be aimed at. To be criminal or vicious is virtually represented
to them as far less horrible than to be "vulgar." Immured within the
bastile of exclusivism, woman is held captive to all the paltry shifts
and expediencies of convention, fashion, gentility, and so forth. The
genuine benevolence of her nature is perverted; her heart becomes
contracted; and the very highest sources of happiness--those which
consist in a kindly sympathy with humanity in all ranks of life--are as
a well shut up and a fountain sealed.

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

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

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

"Is that dress paid for?" asked a husband. "No." "Then you are allowing
yourself to be clothed at another man's expense!" No woman is justified
in running into debt for a dress, without her husband's knowledge and
consent. If she do so, she is clothing herself at the expense of the
draper. This is one of the things that worry a man who is trying to keep
his head above water; and it is often sufficient to turn his heart
against his wife and her extravagances. It is in this way that incomes
are muddled away, and that life is rendered the scene of bitterness and
discontent. This is especially the case when both husband and wife are
alike spendthrifts.