Transcribed from the 1845 William Pickering edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org
The Claims of Labour.
AN ESSAY ON THE
DUTIES OF THE EMPLOYERS
TO THE EMPLOYED.
The Second Edition.
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
AN ESSAY ON THE MEANS OF IMPROVING THE HEALTH
AND INCREASING THE COMFORT OF THE
LABOURING CLASSES.
* * * * *
LONDON
WILLIAM PICKERING
1845.
"There is formed in every thing a double nature of good; the one, as
every thing is a total or substantive in itself; the other, as it is
a part or member of a greater body; whereof the latter is in degree
the greater and the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation
of a more general form. Therefore we see the iron in particular
sympathy moveth to the loadstone; but yet if it exceed a certain
quantity, it forsaketh the affection to the loadstone, and like a
good patriot moveth to the earth, which is the region and country of
massy bodies. This double nature of good, and the comparative
thereof, is much more engraven upon man, if he degenerate not; unto
whom the conservation of duty to the public ought to be much more
precious than the conservation of life and being: according to that
memorable speech of Pompeius Magnus, when being in commission of
purveyance for a famine at Rome, and being dissuaded with great
vehemency and instance by his friends about him, that he should not
hazard himself to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only to
them, 'Necesse est ut eam, non ut vivam.' But it may be truly
affirmed that there was never any philosophy, religion, or other
discipline, which did so plainly and highly exalt the good which is
communicative, and depress the good which is private and particular,
as the Holy Faith; well declaring, that it was the same God that gave
the Christian law to men, who gave those laws of nature to inanimate
creatures that we spoke of before."
_Bacon's Advancement of Learning_.
"And well may masters consider how easie a transposition it had been
for God, to have made him to mount into the saddle that holds the
stirrup; and him to sit down at the table, who stands by with a
trencher."
_Fuller's Holy State_.
TO HENRY TAYLOR, ESQ.
MY DEAR TAYLOR,
I have great pleasure in dedicating this book to you, as I know of no one
who, both in his life and writings, has shown a more profound and
delicate care for the duties of the Employer to the Employed. Pardon me,
if following the practice of the world, I see the author in his hero, and
think I hear you speaking, when Van Artevelde exclaims--
"A serviceable, faithful, thoughtful friend,
Is old Van Ryk, and of a humble nature,
And yet with faculties and gifts of sense,
Which place him justly on no lowly level--
Why should I say a lowlier than my own,
Or otherwise than as an equal use him?
That with familiarity respect
Doth slacken, is a word of common use.
I never found it so."
I have had some peculiar advantages in writing upon this subject. I
should have been unobservant indeed, if, with such masters as I have
served under, I had not learnt something, in regard to the duties of a
great employer of labour, from witnessing their ever-flowing courtesy;
their care for those who came within their sphere; their anxiety, as the
heads of departments, to recognize every exertion on the part of their
subordinates; and their ready sympathy with the poor and the friendless,
a sympathy which the vexations and harassments of office, and all those
things that tend to turn a man's thoughts in upon himself, could never
subdue.
But, happily, it is not only amongst the high in office that such
examples are to be found. The spirit, and even some of the very modes of
benevolent exertion which I have endeavoured to recommend, have already
been carried into practice, and I trust may be frequently seen, in the
conduct towards their dependents, both of manufacturers and landed
proprietors.
I must also say how much I owe to the excellent Reports which of late
years have been presented to Parliament on subjects connected with the
welfare of the labouring classes. It is to be regretted that these
reports are not better known. I have made frequent use of them, and hope
that the quotations I have given may induce my readers to turn to the
original sources.
With regard to the subject generally, it appears to me that knowledge of
the duties of an employer is every day becoming more important. The
tendency of modern society is to draw the family circle within narrower
and narrower limits. Those amusements which used to be shared by all
classes are becoming less frequent: the great lord has put away his crowd
of retainers: the farmer, in most cases, does not live with his labouring
men: and the master has less sympathy and social intercourse with his
domestics. If this be so, if the family circle is thus becoming
narrower, the conduct of those in domestic authority, having a more
intense influence, has the more need of being regulated by the highest
sense of duty: and, with respect to society in general, if the old bonds
are loosened, other ties must be fostered in their place.
You will not be likely to mistake my meaning, and to suppose that I look
back with any fond regret at the departure of the feudal system, or that
I should wish to bring the present generation under its influence.
Mankind does not so retrace its steps. But still, though the course of
our race is onwards, the nature of man does not change. There is the
same need for protection and countenance on the one side, and for
reverence and attachment on the other, that there ever has been; and the
fact that society is in many respects more disconnected than it used to
be, renders it the more necessary to cultivate in the most watchful
manner every mode of strengthening the social intercourse between rich
and poor, between master and servant, between the employers and the
employed, in whatever rank they may be.
I am afraid it may be said with justice, that both this letter and the
following Essay are "sermoni propiora," according to Charles Lamb's
translation, "properer for a sermon:" but it is impossible to dwell long
on any such subject as the one which I have chosen, without having to
appeal to the best motives of human endeavour; and the shortest way even
to the good which is of a purely physical character lies often, I
believe, through the highest moral considerations.
Believe me,
My dear Taylor,
Most truly yours,
THE AUTHOR.
London, July 1, 1844.
THE CLAIMS OF LABOUR.
CHAPTER I.
MASTERS AND MEN.
It is a thing so common, as almost to be ridiculous, for a man to express
self-distrust at the commencement of any attempt in speech or writing.
And yet, trite as this mode of beginning is, its appropriateness makes
each one use it as heartily as if it were new and true for him, though it
might have been a common-place for others. When he glances hurriedly
across the wide extent of his subject, when he feels how inadequate his
expression will be even to his conception, and, at the same time, has a
yearning desire to bring his audience into the same mind with himself, it
is no wonder if he begins with a few, hesitating, oft repeated, words
about his own insufficiency compared with the greatness of his subject.
Happily, I have not occasion to dwell much upon the importance of the
subject to which I am anxious to engage attention. For a long time it
has been gradually emerging from the darkness in which it had been left.
The claims of labour and the rights of the humble and the poor have
necessarily gained more of the attention of mankind, as Christianity has
developed itself. That power was sure, in its gradual encroachments upon
the evil nature of man, to make its voice heard in this matter. It is a
voice which may come out of strange bodies, such as systems of ethics, or
of politics; but men may call it what they please, it goes on doing its
appointed work, "conquering and to conquer."
* * * * *
Persons of a thoughtful mind seeing closely the falsehood, the folly, and
the arrogance, of the age in which they live, are apt, occasionally, to
have a great contempt for it: and I doubt not that many a man looks upon
the present time as one of feebleness and degeneracy. There are,
however, signs of an increased solicitude for the claims of labour, which
of itself is a thing of the highest promise, and more to be rejoiced over
than all the mechanical triumphs which both those who would magnify, and
those who would depreciate, the present age, would be apt to point to as
containing its especial significance and merit.
But what do all these mechanical triumphs come to? It is in vain that
you have learned to move with double or treble the velocity of your
immediate predecessors: it is in vain that you can show new modes of
luxury, or new resources in art. The inquiring historian will give these
things their weight, but will, nevertheless, persevere in asking how the
great mass of the people were fed, and clothed, and taught: and whether
the improvement in their condition corresponded at all with the
improvement of the condition of the middle and upper classes. What a
sorry answer any one, replying for this age, would have to give him. Nor
would it be enough, indeed, if we could make a satisfactory reply to his
questions about the physical state of the people. We ought to be able to
say that the different orders of society were bound together by links of
gratitude and regard: that they were not like layers of various coloured
sand, but that they formed one solid whole of masonry, each part having
its relation of use and beauty to all the others.
Certainly, if we look at the matter, we have not much to say for
ourselves, unless it be in that dawning of good intentions which I have
alluded to before. There is to be found in our metropolis, in our great
towns, and even in our rural districts, an extent of squalid misery such
as we are almost afraid to give heed to, and which we are glad to forget
as soon as we have read or heard of it. It may be that our ancestors
endured, it may be that many savage tribes still endure, far more
privation than is to be found in the sufferings of our lowest class. But
the mind refuses to consider the two states as analogous, and insists
upon thinking that the state of physical and moral degradation often
found amongst our working classes, with the arabesque of splendour and
luxury which surrounds it, is a more shocking thing to contemplate than a
pressing scarcity of provisions endured by a wandering horde of savage
men sunk in equal barbarism. When we follow men home, who have been
cooperating with other civilized men in continuous labour throughout the
livelong day, we should not, without experience, expect to find their
homes dreary, comfortless, deformed with filth, such homes as poverty
alone could not make. Still less, when we gaze upon some pleasant
looking village, fair enough in outward seeming for poets' songs to
celebrate, should we expect to find scarcity of fuel, scantiness of food,
prevalence of fever, the healthy huddled together with the sick, decency
outraged, and self-respect all gone. And yet such sights, both in town
and country, if not of habitual occurrence, are at any rate sadly too
numerous for us to pass them by as rare and exceptional cases.
Is this then the inevitable nature of things? Has the boasted
civilization of the world led only to this? Do we master the powers of
nature only to let forth a new and fierce torrent of social miseries upon
us? Let not such thoughts be ours. Pagans, the slaves of destiny, might
well have held them. But we cannot doubt that the conditions of labour,
under which man holds the earth, express the mercy and the goodness, no
less than the judgment, of God.
* * * * *
Many benevolent persons feel, doubtless, very sensitively for the sad
condition of the labouring classes, and are anxiously looking about for
remedies to meet it. I would not speak slightingly of any attempt in
that direction. There are problems in political economy, in government,
and, perhaps, even in the adaptation of machinery, which may be worked
out with signal service to the great cause of suffering humanity. It is
not my intention, however, to dwell upon such topics. My object is to
show what can be done with the means that are at the present moment in
every body's power. Many a man, who is looking about for some specific,
has in his hands the immediate means of doing great good, which he would
be ready enough to employ, if he had but imagination to perceive that he
possessed them. My endeavour then will simply be to show what can be
done by the employers of labour in their individual and private capacity.
* * * * *
What an important relation is that of Master and Man! How it pervades
the world; ascending from the lowest gradation of planter and slave
through the states of master and servant, landlord and labourer,
manufacturer and artisan, till it comes to the higher degrees of rule
which one cultivated man has to exercise over another in the performance
of the greatest functions. See, throughout, what difficulties and
temptations encumber this relation. How boundless is the field of
thought which it opens to us, how infinite the duties which it contains,
how complete an exercise it is for the whole faculties of man. Observe
what wretchedness is caused by a misunderstanding of this relation in
domestic matters. See the selfish carelessness about the happiness of
those around them of men not ill-intentioned, nor unkind, perhaps, in
their dealings with the world in general, but lamentably unfit for the
management of a home. Then observe the effects of similar mismanagement
in dealing with a country. Look at the listless loiterers about an Irish
town: you would naturally say to yourself, "Surely this people have done
all that there can be for them to do." You walk out of the town, and
find the adjacent fields as listless-looking, and neglected, as the men
themselves. Think what a want there must be of masters of labour, that
those hands and these weeds are not brought into closer contact.
* * * * *
It may be said that the distressed condition of the labouring classes is
owing to temporary causes, and that good times, by which is meant good
wages, would remove a large part of the evil. I confess it does not
appear to me that a good harvest or two, or ready customers on the other
side of the Atlantic, or the home demand that may arise from exhausted
stocks, or any other cause of that nature which is simply to end in
better wages, would of itself do all, or even any considerable part, of
what we should desire. I do not, for a moment, mean to depreciate the
good effects that would flow from an increase of employment and better
wages. But still I imagine that there are many cases in which, if you
were, in ordinary times, to double the amount of wages, a very inadequate
proportion of good would follow. You have to teach these poor people how
to spend money: you have to give them the opportunities of doing so to
advantage: you have to provide a system of education which shall not vary
with every fluctuation of trade: and to adopt such methods of working as
shall make the least possible disturbance of domestic ties. No sudden
influx of money will do all these things. In fact, whatever part of this
subject one takes up, one is perpetually brought back to the conviction
of the necessity which exists for an earnest and practical application,
on the part of the employing class, of thought and labour for the welfare
of those whom they employ.
* * * * *
Some of my readers may think that I have spoken of the distress of the
labouring population in exaggerated terms. Let them only read the
details of it in the Report of 1842, on the Sanitary Condition of the
labouring population, or in the Report of last year, on the condition of
the children and young persons employed in mines and manufactures. I
scarcely know what extracts to give of these direful reports, that may
briefly convey the state of things to those who have not studied the
subject. Shall I tell them of children ignorant who Jesus Christ was; or
of others who know no more of the Lord's Prayer than the first words,
"Our Father:" and whose nightly prayers begin and end with those two
words? Shall I tell them of great towns in which one half at least of
the juvenile population is growing up without education of any kind
whatever? Shall I show that working people are often permitted to pass
their labour time, the half of their lives, in mines, workshops, and
manufactories, where an atmosphere of a deleterious kind prevails: and
this, too, not from any invincible evil in the nature of the employment,
but from a careless or penurious neglect on the part of their employers?
Shall I go into a lengthened description of the habitations of the poor
which will show that they are often worse housed than beasts of burden?
Or need I depict at large the dark stream of profligacy which overflows
and burns into those parts of the land where such Want and Ignorance
prevail?
How many of these evils might have been mitigated, if not fully removed,
had each generation of masters done but a small part of its duty in the
way of amelioration. But it was not of such things that they were
thinking. The thoughtless cruelty in the world almost outweighs the
rest.
"Why vex me with these things?" exclaims the general reader. "Have we
not enough of dismal stories? It oppresses us to hear them. Let us hope
that something will occur to prevent such things in future. But I am not
a redresser of grievances. Let those who live by the manufacturing
system cure the evils incident to it. Oh that there had never been such
a thing as a manufacturing system!" With thoughts vague, recriminatory,
and despondent, as the foregoing, does many a man push from him all
consideration on the subject. It is so easy to despair: and the
largeness of a calamity is so ready a shelter for those who have not
heart enough to adventure any opposition to it.
Thus, by dwelling upon the magnitude of the evils we long to lessen, we
are frightened and soothed into letting our benevolent wishes remain as
wishes only. But surely a man may find a sphere small enough, as well as
large enough, for him to act in. In all other pursuits, we are obliged
to limit the number and extent of our objects, in order to give full
effect to our endeavours: and so it should be with benevolence. The
foolish sluggard stares hopelessly into the intricacies of the forest,
and thinks that it can never be reclaimed. The wiser man, the labourer,
begins at his corner of the wood, and makes out a task for himself for
each day. Let not our imaginations be employed on one side only. Think,
that large as may appear the work to be done--so too the result of any
endeavour, however small in itself, may be of infinite extent in the
future. Nothing is lost.
* * * * *
And why should we despair? A great nation is never in extreme peril
until it has lost its hopeful spirit. If, at this moment, a foreign
enemy were on the point of invading us, how strenuous we should be: what
moral energy would instantly pervade us. Faster than the beacon lights
could give the intelligence from headland to headland; from city to city
would spread the national enthusiasm of a people that would never admit
the thought of being conquered. Trust me, these domestic evils are foes
not less worthy of our attention than any foreign invaders. It seems to
me, I must confess, a thing far more to be dreaded, that any considerable
part of our population should be growing up in a state of absolute
ignorance, than would be the danger, not new to us, of the combined
hostility of the civilized world. Our trials, as a nation, like our
individual ones, are perpetually varied as the world progresses.
"The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways."
We have not the same evils to contend with as our ancestors had; but we
need the same stoutness of heart that bore them through the contest. The
sudden growth of things, excellent in themselves, entangles the feet of
that generation amongst whom they spring up. There may be something,
too, in the progress of human affairs like the coming in of the tide,
which, for each succeeding wave; often seems as much of a retreat as an
advance: but still the tide comes on.
* * * * *
The settled state of things attendant upon peace, and an unquestioned
dynasty, is good, as it enables men to look more to civil affairs; but it
has, perhaps, a drawback in a certain apathy which is wont to accompany
it. The ordinary arrangements of social life, for a long time
uninterrupted by any large calamity, appear to become hardened into
certainties. A similar course of argument would, on a large scale, apply
not only to this country, but to the world in general. Security is the
chief end of civilization, and as it progresses, the fortunes of
individuals are, upon the whole, made less liable to derangement. This
very security may tend to make men careless of the welfare of others,
and, as Bacon would express it, may be noted as an impediment to
benevolence. I have often thought, whether in former times, when men
looked to those immediately around them as their body guard against
sudden and violent attacks, they ventured to show as much ill-temper to
those they lived with as you sometimes see them do now, when assistance
of all kinds is a purchasable commodity. Considerations of this nature
are particularly applicable when addressed to persons living in a great
capital like London. All things that concern the nation, its joys, its
sorrows, and its successes, are transacted in this metropolis; or, as one
might more properly say, are represented in transactions in this
metropolis. But still this often happens in such a manner as would be
imperceptible even to people of vast experience and observation. The
countless impulses which travel up from various directions to this
absorbing centre sometimes neutralize each other, and leave a comparative
calm; or they create so complex an agitation, that it may be next to
impossible for us to discern and estimate the component forces. Hence
the metropolis may not at times be sufficiently susceptible in the case
either of manufacturing or agricultural distress, or of any colonial
perturbation. This metropolitan insensibility has some great advantages,
but it is well for us to observe the corresponding evil, and, as far as
may be, to guard our own hearts from being rendered apathetic by its
influence.
I do not seek to terrify any one into a care for the labouring classes,
by representing the danger to society of neglecting them. It is
certainly a fearful thing to think of large masses of men being in that
state of want and misery which leaves them nothing to hazard; and who are
likely to be without the slightest reverence or love for the institutions
around them. Still it is not to any fear, grounded on such
considerations, that I would appeal. The flood-gates may be strong
enough to keep out the torrent for our time. These things are not in our
reckonings. Occasionally the upheaving of the waves may frighten timid,
selfish, men into concessions which they would not otherwise have made;
but those whom I would seek to influence, are likely to court danger and
difficulty rather than to shun it. Nor would I even care to disturb the
purely selfish man by dwelling studiously on any social dangers around
us, or labouring to discern in present disturbance or distress the seeds
of inevitable revolution. No, I would say to him, if it all ends here,
"But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,"
you may have chosen wisely. It is true, there are sources of happiness
which you now know nothing of, and which may be far beyond any selfish
gratification you have ever experienced. Indeed, it may be, that you
cannot enjoy the highest delights without sharing them, that they are not
things to be given out to each of us as individuals, now to this man,
then to that, but that they require a community of love. But, at any
rate, I do not wish to scare you into active and useful exertion by
indicating that you are, otherwise, in danger of losing any of the good
things of this world.
The great motive to appeal to, is not a man's apprehension of personal
loss or suffering, but his fear of neglecting a sacred duty. And it will
be found here, I believe, as elsewhere, that the highest motives are
those of the most sustained efficiency.
But little as I would counsel despair, or encourage apathy, or seek to
influence by terror, it is not that I look to the "course of events," or
any other rounded collection of words, to do anything for us. What is
this "course of events" but the continuity of human endeavour? And
giving all due weight to the influence of those general currents which
attend the progress of opinions and institutions, we must still allow
largely for the effect of individual character, and individual exertions.
The main direction that the stream will take is manifest enough perhaps;
but it may come down upon long tracts of level ground which it will
overspread quietly, or it may enter into some rocky channel which will
control it; or it may meet with some ineffectual mud embankment which it
will overthrow with devastation.
* * * * *
Putting aside then such phrases as "course of events," and the like, let
us look to men. And whom shall we look to first but the Masters of
Thought? Surely the true poet will do something to lift the burden of
his own age. What is the use of wondrous gifts of language, if they are
employed to enervate, and not to ennoble, their hearers? What avails it
to trim the lights of history, if they are made to throw no brightness on
the present, or open no track into the future? And to employ Imagination
only in the service of Vanity, or Gain, is as if an astronomer were to
use his telescope to magnify the potherbs in his kitchen garden.
Think what a glorious power is that of expression: and what
responsibility follows the man who possesses it. That grace of language
which can make even commonplace things beautiful, throwing robes of the
poorest texture into forms of all-attractive loveliness: why does it not
expend its genius on materials that would be worthy of the artist? The
great interests of Man are before it, are crying for it, can absorb all
its endeavour, are, indeed, the noblest field for it. Think of
this--then think what a waste of high intellectual endowments there has
been in all ages from the meanest of motives. But what wise man would
not rather have the harmless fame, which youths, on a holiday, scratch
for themselves upon the leaden roof of some cathedral tower, than enjoy
the undeniable renown of those who, with whatever power, have written
from slight or unworthy motives what may prove a hindrance, rather than
an aid, to the well-being of their fellow-men?
* * * * *
But, passing from those who are often the real, though unrecognized,
rulers of their own age, and the despots of the succeeding generation,
let us turn to the ostensible and immediate ruling powers. Assuredly the
government may do something towards removing part of the evils we have
been considering as connected with the system of labour. It seems as if
there were a want of more departments; and certainly of many more able
men. The progress of any social improvement appears to depend too much
on chance and clamour. I do not suppose, for a moment, that we can have
the cut-and-dried executive, or legislative, arrangements that belong to
despotic governments; and it is, in some respects, a wholesome fear that
we have of the interference of government. Still, we may recollect that
England is not a small state, nor an inactive one, where the public
energies are likely to be deadened, or overridden, by activity on the
part of the government, which might, perhaps, with much safety undertake
more than it has been wont to do. One thing is certain, that it may do
great good, if it would but look out for men of ability to fill the
offices at present in its gift. No government need fear such a course as
destructive to its party interests. In appointing and promoting the
fittest men, you are likely to ensure more gratitude than if you selected
those, who being the creatures of your kindness, could never, you
imagine, be otherwise than most grateful for it. Weak people are seldom
much given to gratitude: and even if they were, it is dearly that you
purchase their allegiance; for there are few things which, on the long
run, displease the public more than bad appointments. But, putting aside
the political expediency either way, it is really a sacred duty in a
statesman to choose fit agents. Observe the whirlpool of folly that a
weak man contrives to create round him: and see, on the other hand, with
what small means, a wise man manages to have influence and respect, and
force, in whatever may be his sphere.
I have thought, for example, with regard to the Suppression of the Slave
Trade, that amongst all the devices that can be suggested, one of the
first things would be to tempt very superior men, by large inducements,
to take the judicial situations in the Mixed Commissions, or any other
appointments, in slave-trading parts of the world. We may expect great
results whenever real ability is brought into personal contact with the
evils we wish it to overcome.
There is a matter connected with the functions of government which seems
to be worthy of notice; and that is, the distribution of honours. These
honours are part of the resources of the state; and it is a most
spendthrift thing to bestow them as they frequently are bestowed. It is
not merely that government gives them unworthily: it absolutely plays
with them; gives them, as one might say, for the drollery of the thing,
when it adds a title to some foolish person, whose merits not even the
Public Orator at a university could discover. It is idle to talk of such
things being customary. A great minister would not recommend his
sovereign to confer honours on such people; and sensible men would be
glad to see that the resources of the state, in all ways, were dealt with
considerately.
The above reflections are not foreign to the main subject of this essay;
for a government, having at heart the improvement of the labouring
population, or any other social matter, might direct the stream of
honours towards those who were of service to the state in this matter,
and so might make the civic crown what it was in ancient days. Not,
however, that I mean to say that the best men are to be swayed by these
baubles. The hope of reward is not the source of the highest endeavour.
* * * * *
There is a class of persons who interest themselves so far in the
condition of the labouring population, as to bring forward sad instances
of suffering, and then to say, "Our rich men should look to these
things." This kind of benevolence delights to bring together, in
startling contrast, the condition of different classes, and then to
indulge in much moral reflection. Now riches are very potent in their
way; but a great heart is often more wanted than a full purse. I speak
it not in any disparagement of the rich or great, when I say that we must
not trust to them alone. Amongst them are many who use their riches as
God's stewards; but the evils which we have to contend against are to be
met by a general impulse in the right direction of people of all classes.
There are instances where a man's wealth enables him to set forth more
distinctly to the world's eye some work of benevolence, even to be the
pioneer in improvements, which persons of smaller fortunes could scarcely
have effected. In such a case great indeed is the advantage of riches.
But do not let us accustom our minds to throw the burden of good works on
the shoulders of any particular class. God has not given a monopoly of
benevolence to the rich.
What I have just said about individual rich men, applies in some measure
to associations for benevolent purposes. They are to be looked upon as
accessories--sometimes very useful ones--but they are not to be expected
to supersede private enterprise. A man should neither wait for them;
nor, when they exist, should he try to throw his duties upon them, and
indolently expect that they are to think and act in all cases for him.
Wherever a strong feeling on any subject exists, societies will naturally
spring up in connexion with it. What such bodies have to do, is to
direct their energies to those parts of the matter in which it is
especially difficult for private enterprise to succeed. And private
individuals should be cautious of slackening their endeavours in any good
cause, merely because they are aware that some society exists which has
the same object in view.
* * * * *
I come now to some member of that large class of persons who are not
rich, nor great employers of labour, nor in any station of peculiar
influence. He shudders as he reads those startling instances of
suffering or crime in which the distress and ignorance of the labouring
population will, occasionally, break out into the notice of the world.
"What can I do?" he exclaims. "I feel with intensity the horrors I read
of: but what can one man do?" I only ask him to study what he feels. He
is a citizen. He cannot be such an isolated being as to have no
influence. The conclusions which he comes to, after mature reflection,
will not be without their weight. If individual citizens were anxious to
form their opinions with care, on those questions respecting which they
will have to vote and to act, there would be little need of organized
bodies of men to carry great measures into effect. The main current of
public opinion is made up of innumerable rills, so small, perhaps, that a
child might with its foot divert the course of any one of them: but
collected together they rush down with a force that is irresistible. If
those who have actively to distribute the labour of the world knew that
you, the great mass of private men, regarded them not for their money,
but for their conduct to those in their employ, not for the portion which
they may contrive to get for themselves, but for the well-being which
they may give rise to, and regulate amongst others; why then your
thoughts would be motives to them, urging them on in the right path.
Besides, you would not stop at thinking. The man who gives time and
thought to the welfare of others will seldom be found to grudge them
anything else.
Again, have not you, though not manufacturers, or master-workmen, or
owners of land, have not you dependents, in whose behalf you may find
exercise for the principles to which I am convinced that study in this
matter will lead you? Your regard for servants is a case in point. And,
moreover, you may show in your ordinary, every day, dealings with the
employers of labour a considerateness for those under them, which may
awaken the employers to a more lively care themselves. Only reflect on
the duty: opportunities of testing the strength of your resolves will not
be wanting.
We sometimes feel thoroughly impressed by some good thought, or just
example, that we meet with in study or real life, but as if we had no
means of applying it. We cannot at once shape for ourselves a course
that shall embrace this newly acquired wisdom. Often it seems too grand
for the occasions of ordinary life; and we fear that we must keep it laid
up for some eventful day, as nice housewives their stateliest furniture.
However, if we keep it close to the heart, and make but the least
beginning with it, our infant practice leads to something better, or
grows into something ampler. In real life there are no isolated points.
* * * * *
You, who have but few dependents, or, perhaps, but one drudge dependent
upon you, whether as servant, apprentice, or hired labourer, do not think
that you have not an ample opportunity for exercising the duties of an
employer of labour. Do not suppose that these duties belong to the great
manufacturer with the population of a small town in his own factory, or
to the landlord with vast territorial possessions, and that you have
nothing to do with them. The Searcher of all hearts may make as ample a
trial of you in your conduct to one poor dependent, as of the man who is
appointed to lead armies and administer provinces. Nay, your treatment
of some animal entrusted to your care may be a history as significant for
you, as the chronicles of kings for them. The moral experiments in the
world may be tried with the smallest quantities.
I cannot quit this part of the subject without alluding more directly to
the duties of the employers of domestic servants. Of course the
principles which should regulate the conduct of masters and mistresses
towards their servants, are the same as those which should regulate the
employers of labour generally. But there are some peculiar circumstances
which need to be noticed in the application of these principles. That,
in this case, the employers and the employed are members of one family,
is a circumstance which intensifies the relation. It is a sad thing for
a man to pass the working part of his day with an exacting, unkind,
master: but still, if the workman returns at evening to a home that is
his own, there is a sense of coming joy and freedom which may support him
throughout the weary hours of labour. But think what it must be to share
one's home with one's oppressor; to have no recurring time when one is
certain to be free from those harsh words, and unjust censures, which are
almost more than blows, aye even to those natures we are apt to fancy so
hardened to rebuke. Imagine the deadness of heart that must prevail in
that poor wretch who never hears the sweet words of praise or of
encouragement. Many masters of families, men living in the rapid current
of the world, who are subject to a variety of impressions which, in their
busy minds, are made and effaced even in the course of a single day, can
with difficulty estimate the force of unkind words upon those whose
monotonous life leaves few opportunities of effacing any unwelcome
impression. There is nothing in which the aid of imagination, that
handmaid of charity, may be more advantageously employed, than in
considering the condition of domestic servants. Let a man endeavour to
realize it to himself, let him think of its narrow sphere, of its
unvarying nature, and he will be careful not to throw in, unnecessarily,
the trouble even of a single harsh word, which may make so large a
disturbance in the shallow current of a domestic's hopes and joys. How
often, on the contrary, do you find that masters seem to have no
apprehension of the feelings of those under them, no idea of any duties
on their side beyond "cash payment," whereas the good, old, patriarchal
feeling towards your household is one which the mere introduction of
money wages has not by any means superseded, and which cannot, in fact,
be superseded. You would bear with lenity from a child many things, for
which, in a servant, you can find nothing but the harshest names. Yet
how often are these poor, uneducated, creatures little better than
children! You talk, too, of ingratitude from them, when, if you
reflected a little, you would see that they do not understand your
benefits. It is hard enough sometimes to make benefits sink into men's
hearts, even when your good offices are illustrated by much kindness of
words and manner; but to expect that servants should at once appreciate
your care for them is surely most unreasonable, especially if it is not
accompanied by a manifest regard and sympathy. You would not expect it,
if you saw the child-like relation in which they stand to you.
Another mode of viewing with charity the conduct of domestic servants, is
to imagine what manner of servant you would make yourself, or any one of
those whom in your own rank you esteem and love. Do you not perceive, in
almost every character, some element which would occasionally make its
possessor fail in performing the duties of domestic service? Do you find
that faithfulness, accuracy, diligence, and truth pervade the circle of
your equals in such abundance that you should be exorbitantly angry, the
moment you perceive a deficiency in such qualities amongst those who have
been but indifferently brought up, and who, perhaps, have early imbibed
those vices of their class, fear and falsehood; vices which their
employers can only hope to eradicate by a long course of considerate
kindness?
* * * * *
I do not speak of the conduct of masters and mistresses as an easy
matter: on the contrary, I believe that it is one of the most difficult
functions in life. If, however, men only saw the difficulty, they would
see the worthiness of trying to overcome it. You observe a man becoming
day by day richer, or advancing in station, or increasing in professional
reputation, and you set him down as a successful man in life. But, if
his home is an ill-regulated one, where no links of affection extend
throughout the family, whose former domestics (and he has had more of
them than he can well remember) look back upon their sojourn with him as
one unblessed by kind words or deeds, I contend that that man has not
been successful. Whatever good fortune he may have in the world, it is
to be remembered that he has always left one important fortress untaken
behind him. That man's life does not surely read well whose benevolence
has found no central home. It may have sent forth rays in various
directions, but there should have been a warm focus of love--that home
nest which is formed round a good man's heart.
* * * * *
Having spoken of some of the duties of private persons, we come now to
the great employers of labour. Would that they all saw the greatness of
their position. Strange as it may sound, they are the successors of the
feudal barons, they it is who lead thousands to peaceful conquests, and
upon whom, in great measure, depends the happiness of large masses of
mankind. As Mr. Carlyle says, "The Leaders of Industry, if Industry is
ever to be led, are virtually the Captains of the World; if there be no
nobleness in them, there will never be an Aristocracy more." Can a man,
who has this destiny entrusted to him, imagine that his vocation consists
merely in getting together a large lump of gold, and then being off with
it, to enjoy it, as he fancies, in some other place: as if that which is
but a small part of his business in life, were all in all to him; as if
indeed, the parable of the talents were to be taken literally, and that a
man should think that he has done his part when he has made much gold and
silver out of little? If these men saw their position rightly, what
would be their objects, what their pleasures? Their objects would not
consist in foolish vyings with each other about the grandeur or the
glitter of life. But in directing the employment of labour, they would
find room for the exercise of all the powers of their minds, of their
best affections, and of whatever was worthy in their ambition. Their
occupation, so far from being a limited sphere of action, is one which
may give scope to minds of the most various capacity. While one man may
undertake those obvious labours of benevolent superintendence which are
of immediate and pressing necessity, another may devote himself to more
remote and indirect methods of improving the condition of those about
him, which are often not the less valuable because of their indirectness.
In short, it is evident that to lead the labour of large masses of
people, and to do that, not merely with a view to the greatest product of
commodities, but to the best interests of the producers, is a matter
which will sufficiently and worthily occupy men of the strongest minds
aided by all the attainments which cultivation can bestow.
I do not wish to assert a principle larger than the occasion demands: and
I am, therefore unwilling to declare that we cannot justly enter into a
relation so meagre with our fellow-creatures, as that of employing all
their labour, and giving them nothing but money in return. There might,
perhaps, be a state of society in which such a relation would not be
culpable, a state in which the great mass of the employed were cultivated
and considerate men; and where the common interests of master and man
were well understood. But we have not to deal with any such imaginary
case. So far from working men being the considerate creatures we have
just imagined them, it is absolutely requisite to protect, in the most
stringent manner, the interests of the children against the parents, who
are often anxious to employ their little ones most immaturely. Nay
more--it is notorious that working men will frequently omit to take even
the slightest precaution in matters connected with the preservation of
their own lives. If these poor men do not demand from you as Christians
something more than mere money wages, what do the injunctions about
charity mean? If those employed by you are not your neighbours, who are?
* * * * *
But, some great employer may exclaim: "It is hard that we the agents
between the consumer and the producer should have all the sacrifices to
make, should have all the labouring population thrown, as it were, on our
hands." In reply, I say that I have laid down no such doctrine. I have
urged the consumer to perform his duties, and tried to point out to him
what some of those duties are. As a citizen, he may employ himself in
understanding this subject, and in directing others rightly; he may, in
his capacity of voter, or in his fair influence on voters, urge upon the
state its duty, and show, that as an individual, he would gladly bear his
share of any increased burdens which that duty might entail upon the
state. He may prove in many ways, as a mere purchaser, his concern for
the interests of the producer. And there are, doubtless, occasions on
which you, the great employers of labour, may call upon him to make large
sacrifices of his money, his time, and his thoughts, for the welfare of
the labouring classes. His example and his encouragement may cheer you
on; and as a citizen, as an instructor, as a neighbour, in all the
capacities of life, he may act and speak in a way that may indirectly, if
not directly, support your more manifest endeavours in the same good
cause. It is to no one class that I speak. We are all bound to do
something towards this good work. If, hereafter, I go more into detail
as regards the especial methods of improving his work-people that a
manufacturer might employ, it is not that I wish to point out
manufacturers as a class especially deficient in right feelings towards
those under them. Far from it. Much of what I shall venture to suggest
has been learnt from what I have seen and heard, amongst the
manufacturers themselves.