CHAPTER III.

LABOUR IN FACTORIES.

The two former chapters have been given to the consideration of the

relation between the employer of labour and the labouring man, and to

general reflections upon the duties arising from that relation. Let us

now take a particular instance, the employment of labour in manufactures

for example, and go through some of the more obvious points to which the

master might in that case direct his attention beneficially.

1. THE MILL.

It would seem an obvious thing enough, that when a man collects a number

of his fellow-men together to work for him, it would be right to provide

a sufficient supply of air for them. But this does not appear to have

been considered as an axiom; and, in truth, we cannot much wonder at this

neglect, when we find that those who have to provide for the amusement of

men, and who would be likely, therefore to consult the health and

convenience of those whom they bring together, should sedulously shut out

the pure air, as if they disliked letting anything in that did not pay

for admission. In most grievances, the people aggrieved are very

sensible at the time of the evil they are undergoing; which is not,

however, the case with those who suffer from an impure atmosphere. They

are, in general, almost unconscious of what they are enduring. This

makes it the more desirable, in the case we are considering, that the

manufacturer himself, or the government, or the community at large,

should be alive to the mischief arising from want of ventilation in these

crowded assemblages of men, and to the absolute necessity of providing

remedies for it.

This will not be an inappropriate place for saying something about the

non-interference principle. There is no doubt that interference has

often been most tyrannous and absurd, that our ancestors, for instance,

sometimes interfered only to insist upon impossibilities, and that we may

occasionally do the same. But, on the other hand, the let-alone

principle proceeds upon the supposition, not only that every body knows

his own interest best, or if not, that his freedom of action is of more

importance than his acting wisely, which is often true; but it also goes

on to assume that every body knows and will take just care of the welfare

of others. Push either principle to any great length; and you will find

yourself in the land of confusion and absurdity. In truth, I should

seldom like to say anything about the wisdom, or the folly, of

interference, until I knew exactly what it was about, and how far you

intended to interfere. It is one of those matters in which it is

especially desirable to keep in mind those maxims of prudence, respecting

the application of general rules to moral questions, which Burke has

handled so admirably. "Nothing universal," he observes, "can be

rationally affirmed on any moral, or any political subject. Pure

metaphysical abstraction does not belong to these matters. The lines of

morality are not like ideal lines of mathematicks. They are broad and

deep as well as long. They admit of exceptions; they demand

modifications. These exceptions and modifications are not made by the

process of logic, but by the rules of prudence. Prudence is not only the

first in rank of the virtues political and moral, but she is the

director, the regulator, the standard of them all." To take a particular

instance of legislative interference, namely, the enactments about

building party-walls, can any one doubt that this interference has been

most beneficial? Does any one suppose that, without it, the same good

results would have been gained? Would the prudence of private

individuals ever have accomplished it? Besides, I think it can hardly be

denied that a state should have a degree of providence for the general

body, not to be expected from private individuals, and which might compel

them to do things that would not consort with their interest even upon

the most enlarged views which they could take of it. The financial

affairs of the nation are conducted with no slight apparatus of intrusion

and vexation. We endure this patiently: indeed, in many cases, it is

difficult to see how it could be obviated. Surely we may submit to some

simple sanitary regulations, especially of that kind which may be

compared to indirect taxation, requiring to be attended to only by a

certain class of persons of daily experience in the matter. Such are

regulations with respect to building, which need to be looked to in the

first instance; and then the results of them remain for ever afterwards a

great gain to public health and morals. I am speaking now rather of the

question of annoyance, than of loss, from legislative interference. Of

course, in this matter of building, it is easy to perceive that limits

must carefully be put to the extent of interference with a view to

keeping down the expense. If this is not done, the whole purpose of the

regulations may be defeated. But even in this, it is possible to be too

nice with respect to interfering with what are called the rights of

property, or too much afraid of creating an artificial dearness by

regulations, many of which will in the end be found to be a great saving.

But to resume the subject of the Mill. Each branch of manufactures has

its peculiar dangers and disadvantages; and it behoves the master to be

frequently directing his attention to remedy the peculiar evils of his

manufacture. He is to be the pioneer to find out for his men ways of

avoiding these evils. It cannot be his duty to study only how to make

his fabric cheaper, and not to take any pains to see how it can be made

to cost less of human life. However, if a man has once got a just view

of his position as an employer of labour, he will not need to be urged in

this matter, but must see at once that the health of his men is one of

the first things for him to look to. What would you think of a commander

who was careless of the health of his army, merely because he had an

indefinite power of recruiting? In a thickly-peopled country like this,

an employer of labour, if his work does not require much skill, can

generally get any number of men to serve him, which would be a strange

reason, however, for making the health of anyone amongst those whom he

does employ less precious in his eyes. Human labour may be ever so

abundant, but human life cannot be cheap.

While we are talking of the Mill, it may be well to observe that the

system of piecework, when it is done by a man with children under him, is

likely to be made too severe work for them. It is a hard fate, indeed,

for children to be always under the eye of one whose interest it is to

get as much work out of them as possible. The above remarks, however,

apply even more to piece-work done at home than at the mill.

The next thing to be mentioned in connexion with the Mill is the time of

labour. This is a great question, embracing many considerations which it

would be quite foreign to my purpose to enter upon here. But I may

observe that there is much in this matter which might be done by the

masters, individually, and collectively. They have to consider how the

time that they may get for the recreation of their men is to be

apportioned. For instance, whether it is better to give it in whole

days, or by half-days, or to spread it over the ordinary days of work.

These are questions that cannot be answered without much thought and

knowledge respecting the social habits of the labouring people.

All that we have addressed to the manufacturer on the subject of his

Mill, applies even more cogently to the minor superintendent of labour

and his workshop. There, the evils complained of are often far greater.

Ventilation is less attended to; less pains are taken to diminish the

peculiar dangers of the craft; the hours of labour are more numerous; and

the children sometimes exposed to cruelties utterly unheard of in

factories. Read the evidence respecting the employment of milliners, and

you will wish that dresses could be made up, as well as the materials

made for them, in factories. Alas! what a striking instance the

treatment of these poor milliner girls is of the neglect of duty on the

part of employers: I mean of those who immediately superintend this

branch of labour, and of those who cause it. Had the former been the

least aware of their responsibility, would they have hesitated to

remonstrate against the unreasonable orders of their customers? And, as

for the latter, for the ladies who expect such orders to be complied

with, how sublimely inconsiderate of the comfort of those beneath them

they must have become. I repeat it again: the careless cruelty in the

world almost outweighs the rest.

2. THE SCHOOL-ROOM.

Some manufacturer may think that this branch of the matter does not

belong to him, as he does not employ children of the age which makes it

incumbent upon him by law to have anything to do with their schooling.

But I would venture to suggest that it is a matter which belongs to all

of us, and, especially, to those who are able to pay attention to the

habits of large masses of people, put, as it were, under their care.

Suppose that there had been no such thing in the world's history as a

decline and fall of the Roman Empire. In the course of time, though we

should probably have had our Domitians and our Neros, we might have

delighted in a modern Trajan or an Antonine. Under such a man, the

progress of letters, having proceeded in any thing like the manner that

it has done, we should have had some general system of national

education, which, after the Roman fashion of completeness, would have

traversed the state, with iron step, doubtless even to the remote ends of

barbarian Britain. To say that this would not have been a signal benefit

to mankind would be idle: what we have to say against the despotic system

is, that it absorbs private virtue, and suppresses private endeavour;

that though it may create better machines, it certainly makes worse men.

Now then to bring these imaginings home; for they do concern us closely.

My readers are, to a certain extent, educated; they will have gained by

living in a free state; but if they continue to neglect the welfare of

the great mass, in respect of education, can they say that this, the

first layer of the nation, the "turba Remi," might not almost wish, if

they could comprehend the question, to live under a despot who would

educate them, rather than with free men who do not? Are we to enjoy the

singular freedom of speech and action, which we do enjoy in this country,

and to expect to have no sacrifice to make for it? Is liberty, the first

of possessions, to have no duties corresponding to its invaluable rights?

And, in fine, ought it not to be some drawback on the enjoyment of our

own freedom, if a doubt can come across our minds whether a vast mass of

our fellow citizens might not be the better for living under a despotic

government? These are very serious questions; and the sooner we are

able, with a good conscience, to give a satisfactory answer to them, the

better. Till that time, let no man in this country say that the

education of the people is nothing to him.

But how strange it is that men should require to be urged to this good

work of education. The causing children to be taught is a thing so full

of joy, of love, of hope, that one wonders how such a gladsome path of

benevolence could ever have been unfrequented. The delight of educating

is like that of cultivating near the fruitful Nile, where seed time and

harvest come so close together. And when one looks forward to the

indefinite extension that any efforts in this direction may probably

enjoy, one is apt to feel as if nothing else were important, and to be

inclined to expend all one's energies in this one course. Indeed, it is

hard to estimate the enormous benefit of enabling a man to commune with

the most exalted minds of all time, to read the most significant records

of all ages, to find that others have felt and seen and suffered as

himself, to extend his sympathy with his brother-man, his insight into

nature, his knowledge of the ways of God. Now the above is but a poor

description of what the humblest education offers.

Let us now consider the subject of "the school-room" more in detail.

And, the first remark I have to make, is, that we should perpetually

recal to mind the nature of our own thoughts, and sensations, at the

early periods of life in which those are whom we are trying to educate.

This will make us careful not to weary children with those things which

we long to impress most upon them. The repetition of words, whatever

they may contain, is often like the succession of waves in a receding

tide, which makes less of an inroad at each pulsation. It is different

when an idea, or state of feeling, is repeated by conduct of various

kinds: that is most impressive. If a child, for instance, is brought up

where there is a pervading idea of any kind, manifested as it will be in

many ways, the idea is introduced again and again without wearisomeness,

and the child imbibes it unconsciously. But mere maxims, embracing this

idea, would very likely have gained no additional influence with him from

being constantly repeated: that is, at the time; for, in after years, the

maxims may, perhaps, fasten upon his mind with a peculiar strength,

simply from their having been often repeated to him at an early period of

his life. But at present this repetition may be of immense disservice.

You cannot continue to produce the same effect by words, that you did on

first using them; and often you go on hammering about a thing until you

loosen what was fast in the first instance. It is well to keep such

reflections steadily in mind as regards religious instruction for the

young, and, especially, as regards religious services for them. Go back

to your own youth, and recollect how little command of attention you had

yourself, how volatile you were, how anxious to escape all tedium, how

weary of words, how apt to dislike routine. Then see whether you make

sufficient allowance for these feelings in dealing with the young; and

whether it might not be possible to give them the same holy precepts, to

communicate the same extent, or nearly so, of religious instruction, and

yet to ensure their love for the times, and places, and circumstances, of

this communication. You must allow that you do a very dangerous thing

indeed, when you make that wearisome which you wish to be most loved. I

must confess that it has often struck me, that we insist upon too much

religious attendance from children of a tender age; and, considering what

we know of the impatience of the human mind, I cannot but think that such

a system is often most prejudicial. I say these things with much

hesitation, and some fear of being misunderstood; and I do not venture to

enter into details, or to presume to say what should be the exact course

in so difficult a question. What I wish, is to draw the attention of

those engaged in instruction to a point of view which may sometimes

escape them, or which they may be tempted to neglect for the sake of

appearances, the household gods of this generation.

* * * * *

There is one maxim which those who superintend schools should ponder

well; and that is, that the best things to be learnt are those which the

children cannot be examined upon. One cannot but fear that the masters

will be apt to think school-proficiency all in all; and that the founders

and supporters of schools will, occasionally, be tempted by vanity to

take most interest in those things which give most opportunity for

display. Yet the slightest inferiority of moral tone in a school would

be ill compensated for by an expertness, almost marvellous, in dealing

with figures; or a knowledge of names, things, and places, which may well

confound the grown-up bystander. That school would in reality be the one

to be proud of, where order was thoroughly maintained with the least

admixture of fear; where you would have most chance of meeting with

truthful replies from the children in a matter where such replies would

criminate themselves: and where you would find the most kindly feeling to

each other prevalent throughout. Yet these are things not to be seen on

show days, that cannot be got up for exhibition, that require unwearied

supervision on the part of masters and benefactors, that will never be

attempted but by those who, themselves, feel deeply the superiority of

moral excellence to all else. Such teachers will see how the kindness of

children to each other may be encouraged. They will take more notice of

a good-natured thing than a clever one. They will show, how much, even

in the minutest trifles, truth and fortitude weigh with them. They will

be careful not to stimulate an unwholesome craving for praise in their

pupils. They will look not only to the thing done, but also to the mode

and spirit of doing it. That this spirit and mode may be the means of

generating and guiding future endeavour will be a main object with such

instructors. The dignity of labour, the independence of thrift, the

greatness of contentment, will be themes dwelt upon by them, in their

loving foresight for the future welfare of the infant labourers entrusted

to their care. To endear holy things to these little ones would delight

such teachers far more than to instil the utmost proficiency in any

critical or historical knowledge of the sacred writings. Not that the

two things are in the least degree incompatible. Far from it, indeed!

All I mean to insist on is, that such teachers will perceive what are the

great objects of culture: and how subservient even the best knowledge is

to the apprehension of duty. They will see, too, more clearly the

necessity of bearing in mind the pre-eminence of moral and religious

culture, when they reflect that many of their pupils come from places

which cannot be called homes, where scarcely anything like parental love

sustains or informs them, and where, perhaps, confusion, discontent, and

domestic turbulence prevail.

We may remark, as bearing upon this subject, that singing lessons should

be greatly encouraged in schools. There are several merits connected

with this mode of instruction. It employs many together, and gives a

feeling of communion; it is not much mixed up with emulation; the

tenderest and highest sentiments may be unostentatiously impressed by its

means, for you can introduce in songs such things as you could not

lecture upon; then it gives somewhat of a cultivated taste, and an

additional topic of social interest, even to those who do not make much

proficiency; while to others, who have a natural ability for it, it may

form an innocent and engaging pursuit throughout their lives.

With respect to the intellectual part of teaching, I have not much to

say: and it is a branch of the subject which has engaged, and is

engaging, the attention of men who are much more capable of speaking

about it than I am. The only thing which it occurs to me to mention is,

that one would like to see a great deal of manual teaching, with a view

not only to the future profit, but also to the future pleasure and

instruction of the children. When you think that many of them will be

artisans, whose only occupation, perhaps, will be to perform some one

process of manufactures, requiring next to no thought or skill, it

becomes the more necessary to educate their hands as well as their heads.

Man is an animal very fond of construction of any sort; and a wise

teacher, knowing the happiness that flows from handiwork, will seize upon

opportunities for teaching even the most trivial accomplishments of a

manual kind. They will come in, hereafter, to embellish a man's home,

and to endear it to him. They will occupy time that would, otherwise, be

ill spent. And, besides, there are many persons whose cleverness lies

only in this way; and you have to teach them this or nothing.

3. THE PLAYGROUND.

This is a place quite as important as the school-room. Here it is, that

a large part of the moral cultivation may be carried on. It is a great

object to humanize the conduct of children to each other at play times

without interfering with them, or controlling them, too much. But we

have, before, gone over the motives which should actuate a teacher in his

moral guidance; and it needs only to remark, that the playground is a

place where that guidance is eminently required; and where the exigencies

for it are most easily discerned.

Those games should not be overlooked which are of a manly kind, and

likely to be continued in after life. This brings us naturally to think

of the playgrounds for children of a larger growth. Hitherto there has

been a sad deficiency in this matter in our manufacturing towns, and

almost everywhere else. Can any thing be more lamentable to contemplate

than a dull, grim, and vicious population, whose only amusement is

sensuality? Yet, what can we expect, if we provide no means whatever of

recreation; if we never share our own pleasures with our poorer brethren;

and if the public buildings which invite them in their brief hours of

leisure are chiefly gin palaces? As for our cathedrals and great

churches, we mostly have them well locked up, for fear any one should

steal in and say a prayer, or contemplate a noble work of art, without

paying for it: and we shut people up by thousands in dense towns with no

outlets to the country, but those which are guarded on each side by dusty

hedges. Now an open space near a town is one of nature's churches: and

it is an imperative duty to provide such things. Nor, indeed, should we

stop at giving breathing places to crowded multitudes in great towns. To

provide cheap locomotion, as a means of social improvement, should be

ever in the minds of legislators and other influential persons. Blunders

in legislating about railroads, and absurd expenditure in making them,

are a far greater public detriment than they may seem at first sight.

Again, without interfering too much, or attempting to force a "Book of

Sports" upon the people, who in that case, would be resolutely dull and

lugubrious, the benevolent employer of labour might exert himself in many

ways to encourage healthful and instructive amusements amongst his men.

He might give prizes for athletic excellence or skill. He might aid in

establishing zoological gardens, or music-meetings, or exhibitions of

pictures, or mechanics' institutes. These are things in which some of

the great employers of labour have already set him the example. Let him

remember how much his workpeople are deprived of by being almost confined

to one spot; and let him be the more anxious to enlarge their minds by

inducing them to take interest in any thing which may prevent the

"ignorant present," and its low cares, from absorbing all their

attention. He has very likely some pursuit, or some art, in which he

takes especial pleasure himself, and which gives to his leisure, perhaps,

its greatest charm: he may be sure that there are many of his people who

could be made to share in some degree that pleasure, or pursuit, with

him. It is a large, a sure, and certainly a most pleasurable

beneficence, to provide for the poor such opportunities of recreation, or

means of amusement, as I have mentioned above. Neither can it be set

down as at all a trifling matter. Depend upon it, that man has not made

any great progress in humanity who does not care for the leisure hours

and amusements of his fellow-men.

While we are upon this matter, I will mention something which borders

closely upon it, though it applies to the consumer rather than the

manufacturer. Most men would think it much, if it were brought home to

them, that from any carelessness of theirs, some person had suffered

unnecessary imprisonment, if only for a day. And yet any one, who

encourages unreasonably late hours of business, does what he can to

uphold a system of needless confinement, depriving thousands of that

healthful change of pursuit which is one of the main aliments both for

body and soul, and leaving little time or opportunity for any thing to

grow up in their minds beyond the rudest and most trivial cares and

objects.

4. THE WORKMAN'S HOME.

That the workman should have a home, which, however humble it may be,

should yet afford room and scope for the decencies, if not for some of

the comforts and refinements of civilized life, is manifestly essential,

if we wish to preserve the great body of the people from a state of

savageness. There is an important and original remark on this subject in

the Hand Loom Weavers Report of 1841:

"The man who dines for 6d. and clothes himself during the year for 5

pounds is probably as healthily fed, and as healthily clad, as if his

dinner cost two guineas a day, and his dress 200 pounds a year. But

this is not the case with respect to habitation. Every increase of

accommodation, from the corner of a cellar to a mansion, renders the

dwelling more healthy, and, to a considerable extent, the size and

goodness of the dwelling tends to render its inmates more civilized."

Indeed, if civilization does not show itself in a man's home, where else

is it likely to take much root with him? Make his home comfortable, and

you do more towards making him a steady and careful citizen, than you

could by any other means. Now only look around, and see how entirely

this has been neglected, at least, until within a recent date. Our

workers are toiling all day long, or, if they have leisure, it is mostly

accompanied by pecuniary distress: and can you expect in either case that

they will busy themselves about those primary structural arrangements

without which it is scarcely possible to have a comfortable home? Many

of the things, too, which are needful for this end, require capital, or,

at least, such conjoint enterprise as can hardly be expected from the

poor. Take any individual workman. Suppose there is defective drainage

in his street, or, as often happens, no drainage at all, what can one

such man do, even if at all alive to the evil? When you consider the

dependent condition of the labouring classes, and how little time they

have for domestic arrangements of any kind, does it not behove the

employer of labour to endeavour that his workmen should have

opportunities of getting places to live in, fit for human beings in a

civilized country? I use the phrase "employer of labour," in its widest

sense; and at once say, that there are many things bearing upon the

comfort of the habitations of the poor, which both the local authorities

and the imperial government ought to look to. Is there not a strange

mockery in the fact, stated in the Sanitary Report, that "the annual

slaughter in England and Wales from preventible causes of typhus which

attacks persons in the vigour of life, appears to be double the amount of

what was suffered by the allied armies in the battle of Waterloo?" Must

we not say again that the careless cruelty of the world almost outweighs

the rest?

I have hitherto abstained from vexing my readers with details; nor do I

wish now to do more than draw their attention to a few extracts from

public documents respecting the habitations of the poor. I take the

following from the Hand Loom Weavers' Report in 1841.

"The First Annual Report of the Registrar-General, showed for the

year 1838 a variation of the annual mortality in different districts

of the metropolis, amounting to 100 per cent.; a difference nearly

equal to that which exists between the most healthy and the least

healthy portions of the world. The inquiries instituted at the same

time by the Poor Law Commissioners into the physical causes of fever

in the metropolis, have traced the comparative mortality of the

unhealthy districts principally to the presence of impurities, the

want of ventilation, and the bad construction of houses.

"The following extracts from Dr. Southwood Smith's Report on Bethnal

Green and Whitechapel, show both the causes and the intensity of the

evil.

'It appears,' says Dr. Southwood Smith, 'that in many parts of

Bethnal Green and Whitechapel, fever of a malignant and fatal

character is always more or less prevalent. In some streets it has

recently prevailed in almost every house; in some courts in every

house; and in some few instances in every room in every house. Cases

are recorded in which every member of a family has been attacked in

succession, of whom in every such case several have died; some whole

families have been swept away. Instances are detailed in which there

have been found in one small room six persons lying ill of fever

together; I have myself seen this, four in one bed, and two in

another.

* * * * *

'The room of a fever patient in a small and heated apartment in

London, with no perflation of fresh air, is perfectly analogous to a

standing pool in Ethiopia full of bodies of dead locusts. The poison

generated in both cases is the same; the difference is merely in the

degree of its potency. Nature with her burning sun, her stilled and

pent up wind, her stagnant and teeming marsh, manufactures plague on

a large and fearful scale. Poverty in her hut, covered with her

rags, surrounded with her filth, striving with all her might to keep

out the pure air and to increase the heat, imitates nature but too

successfully: the process and the product are the same; the only

difference is in the magnitude of the result.

'But the magnitude of the result in London, if that magnitude be

estimated by the numbers attacked, is not slight. From returns

received from the Bethnal Green and Whitechapel Unions it appears

that during the last year there occurred of fever cases,

In the Bethnal Green Union 2,084

In the Whitechapel Union 2,557

Total 4,641

The state of things described above by Dr. Southwood Smith is by no means

confined to the metropolis; nor, even, is it to be seen in its worst form

there. Mr. Chadwick says, "the most wretched of the stationary

population of which I have been able to obtain any account, or that I

have ever seen, was that which I saw in company with Dr. Arnott, and

others, in the wynds of Edinburgh and Glasgow." I forbear to add their

detailed report, which, as regards Glasgow especially, represents a

loathsome state of filth and wretchedness. If we go now to the

manufacturing towns of England, the evidence is of a similar character.

"The following extract," says the Sanitary Report, "is descriptive of the

condition of large classes of tenements in the manufacturing towns of

Lancashire. It is from the report of Mr. Pearson, the medical officer of

the Wigan Union."

"From the few observations which I have been enabled to make

respecting the causes of fever during the two months which I have

held the situation of house-surgeon to the Dispensary, I am inclined

to consider the filthy condition of the town as being the most

prominent source. Many of the streets are unpaved and almost covered

with stagnant water, which lodges in numerous large holes which exist

upon their surface, and into which the inhabitants throw all kinds of

rejected animal and vegetable matters, which then undergo decay and

emit the most poisonous exhalations. These matters are often

allowed, from the filthy habits of the inhabitants of these

districts, many of whom, especially the poor Irish, are utterly

regardless both of personal and domestic cleanliness, to accumulate

to an immense extent, and thus become prolific sources of malaria,

rendering the atmosphere an active poison."

Dr. Edward Knight, speaking of some parts of the town of Stafford, says,

"These parts of the town are without drainage, the houses, which are

private property, are built without any regard to situation or

ventilation, and constructed in a manner to ensure the greatest

return at the least possible outlay. The accommodation in them does

not extend beyond two rooms; these are small, and, for the most part,

the families work in the day-time in the same room in which they

sleep, to save fuel.

"There is not any provision made for refuse dirt, which, as the least

trouble, is thrown down in front of the houses, and there left to

putrefy."

Mr. William Rayner, the medical officer of the Heaton Norris district of

the Stockport Union, thus describes a part of that town:

"There are forty-four houses in the two rows, and twenty-two cellars,

all of the same size. The cellars are let off as separate dwellings;

these are dark, damp, and very low, not more that six feet between

the ceiling and floor. The street between the two rows is seven

yards wide, in the centre of which is the common gutter, or more

properly sink, into which all sorts of refuse is thrown; it is a foot

in depth. Thus there is always a quantity of putrefying matter

contaminating the air. At the end of the rows is a pool of water

very shallow and stagnant, and a few yards further, a part of the

town's gas works. In many of these dwellings there are four persons

in one bed."

We might have hoped that country districts at least would have been free

from the evils occasioned by contracted building, want of ventilation,

want of drainage, and the like; but this is far indeed from being the

case. The following is from the report of Mr. Aaron Little, the medical

officer of the Chippenham Union:

"The parish of Colerne, which, upon a cursory view, any person

(unacquainted with its peculiarities) would pronounce to be the most

healthy village in England, is in fact the most unhealthy. From its

commanding position (being situated upon a high hill) it has an

appearance of health and cheerfulness which delights the eye of the

traveller, who commands a view of it from the Great Western road; but

this impression is immediately removed on entering at any point of

the town. The filth, the dilapidated buildings, the squalid

appearance of the majority of the lower orders, have a sickening

effect upon the stranger who first visits this place. During three

years' attendance on the poor of this district, I have never known

the small pox, scarlatina, or the typhus fever to be absent. The

situation is damp, and the buildings unhealthy, and the inhabitants

themselves inclined to be of dirty habits. There is also a great

want of drainage."

Mr. John Fox, the medical officer of the Cerne Union, Dorsetshire, gives

the following evidence:

"In many of the cottages, where synochus prevailed, the beds stood on

the ground-floor, which was damp three parts of the year; scarcely

one had a fire place in the bed-room, and one had a single small pane

of glass stuck in the mud wall as its only window, with a large heap

of wet and dirty potatoes in one corner. Persons living in such

cottages are generally very poor, very dirty, and usually in rags;

living almost wholly on bread and potatoes, scarcely ever tasting

animal food, and consequently highly susceptible of disease and very

unable to contend with it. I am quite sure if such persons were

placed in good, comfortable, clean cottages, the improvement in

themselves and children would soon be visible, and the exceptions

would only be found in a few of the poorest and most wretched, who

perhaps had been born in a mud hovel, and had lived in one the first

thirty years of their lives."

Mr. James Gane, the medical officer of the Uxbridge Union, says,

"I attribute the prevalence of diseases of an epidemic character,

which exists so much more among the poor than among the rich, to be,

from the want of better accommodation as residence, (their dwellings

instead of being built of solid materials are complete shells of mud

on a spot of waste land the most swampy in the parish; this is to be

met with almost everywhere in rural districts) to the want of better

clothing, being better fed, more attention paid to the cleanliness of

their dwellings, and less congregated together."

Mr. Thomas H. Smith, the medical officer of the Bromley Union, states:

"My attention was first directed to the sources of malaria in this

district and neighbourhood when cholera became epidemic. I then

partially inspected the dwellings of the poor, and have recently

completed the survey. It is almost incredible that so many sources

of malaria should exist in a rural district. A total absence of all

provisions for effectual drainage around cottages is the most

prominent source of malaria; throughout the whole district there is

scarcely an attempt at it. The refuse vegetable and animal matters

are also thrown by the cottagers in heaps near their dwellings to

decompose; are sometimes not removed, except at very long intervals;

and are always permitted to remain sufficiently long to accumulate in

some quantity. Pigsties are generally near the dwellings, and are

always surrounded by decomposing matters. These constitute some of

the many sources of malaria, and peculiarly deserve attention as

being easily remedied, and yet, as it were, cherished. The effects

of malaria are strikingly exemplified in parts of this district.

There are localities from which fever is seldom long absent; and I

find spots where the spasmodic cholera located itself are also the

chosen resorts of continued fever."

It appears from the Sanitary Report, from which I have made the above

extracts, and which was presented to Parliament in 1842, that there were

then 8000 inhabited cellars at Liverpool; and that the occupants were

estimated at from 35,000 to 40,000. Liverpool is called a prosperous

town. People point with admiration to its docks, and its warehouses, and

speak of its wealth and grandeur in high terms. But such prosperity,

like the victory of Pyrrhus, is apt to suggest the idea of ruin.

Thirty-five thousand people living in cellars! Surely such things as

these demonstrate the necessity there is for making great exertions to

provide fit habitations for the poor. Each year there is required in

Great Britain, according to the Sanitary Report, an increase of 59,000

new tenements, "a number equal to that of two new towns such as

Manchester proper, which has 32,310 houses, and Birmingham, which has

27,268 houses." In these large increments of building, is it not

essential that there should be some care for the health and the morals of

the people? Is it not a question which even in a selfish point of view

affects the whole empire?

* * * * *

I am aware that there are great difficulties in the way of any general

measure for regulating buildings. The first difficulty which occurs, one

which, of itself, forms a limit to building regulations, is, that if you

carry them beyond a certain extent, the poorer classes are driven, by the

increased expense, from the occupation of cottages to that of rooms,

which would be anything but a gain. Besides, it is obvious, on other

accounts, that any regulations with respect to building must be

introduced with great care, especially in an old country, and where the

buildings, which you would be most anxious to modify, are those which

will be erected in the immediate vicinity of ground already densely

covered with houses. The Liverpool Improvement Act affords a curious

instance of, what appears to me, absurd and impatient legislation on the

subject of building. By some of its provisions a certain description of

cellar in that town will be thrown out of occupation on a given day.

Now, where are the inhabitants of these cellars to go to? You might as

well legislate that no food except of a certain quality should be sold;

but it does not seem likely that this would secure the maintenance of the

population so legislated upon. Inconsiderate measures of this kind

occasionally put even wise interference out of countenance. Still, I

must contend that much good may be done by some simple building

regulations of a sanitary nature. Much may be done indirectly, all of

which is nearly sure to be good. For instance, it is very desirable to

lower the taxation upon building materials. Then, again, wherever the

window-tax can be modified, with a view to benefit the dwellings of the

poor, it should be done. Mr. Biers, a witness examined before the Select

Committee in 1842 on Building Regulations, says,

"The preamble of this Act (the Bill, I believe, then under

consideration) sets out that it is for the purpose of preventing

disease and giving better ventilation; now, it would much increase

the advantages of poor people if a rider or addition was made to the

17th section, for the purpose of giving a better ventilation without

being liable to the tax-gatherer. I have added to this section,

'And, for the purpose of promoting health and better ventilation, it

is provided, that all window-lights or casements, not being between

the outside brick or stone reveals of greater dimensions than one

foot wide and three feet high, shall not be assessed to the window

duties, whether the same be glazed or not, provided the room or

appurtenance is not used for a sleeping or dwelling apartment.'"

_Viscount Sandon_. This is not for inhabited cellars? No, it is to

promote the ventilation of any part that is not an inhabited room;

larders and cellars and out-appurtenances of houses. I used to put

in the buildings I am now erecting what are termed lancet lights, for

the ventilating the cellars, larders, &c.; and, previous to the late

survey, these lancet lights were never taken; but so stringent were

the orders from the tax-board on the late survey, that if they found

a gimlet-hole they would take it.

_Chairman_. Were they glazed?--Yes.

If they were not glazed, but made of wire, how would that be?--Then

they can take them, unless the word 'Dairy' or 'Cheese-room' is

written over them; I have now been obliged to reduce three of those

lancet lights, and do not get the ventilation. It is as much or more

concern to the poor than it is to the rich, that they should have a

proper ventilation; and there have been many windows stopped up

(which ought not to have been taken) in consequence of the recent

survey, and which I am sure the Legislature never intended should be

taken."

But, in addition to these indirect methods for improving buildings, it is

surely not beyond our legislative ability to devise some very simple

regulations, at least of that kind which are to have a prospective

application. I do not like to speak confidently about the merits of the

Government Bill, introduced this session, because it requires so much

technical knowledge to judge of these matters; but the main provisions

for back-yards or open spaces attached to dwelling houses, and for the

areas to lowermost rooms, appear to me well considered. This Bill

applies only to the metropolis. The working, however, of local

improvement Acts may afford the best kind of evidence to prepare a

general measure upon. When the subject was considered in Committee in

1842, the Corporation of London sent a witness who showed that if a

certain regulation, embodied in the Bill they were then considering, were

carried into effect, it would, in some instances, not only injure

property, but prevent improvement. Partial objections of this nature,

which after all may be very slight things, often prevent most useful

measures from being carried. But why should there not be a discretionary

power vested somewhere to relax any provision which, in particular cases,

might be found harsh or inapplicable? This power might be given to a

central office, or to local boards of health. Any suggestion of this

kind is liable to objections; and the truth is, that to introduce

sanitary provisions into a state of things not prepared for them, must at

first be a matter cumbered with difficulties; but, as Lord Lyndhurst has

said, "a difficulty is a thing to be overcome." Mr. Carlyle has pointed

out what a wonderful production a soldier is, still more a body of them,

and all the apparatus by which they are kept in working order. And, as

he goes on to argue, governments could not exist if this human fighting

machine were not in good keeping, and, therefore, it is well cared for at

all times. Now if governments did but perceive the importance of some

regulation for the dwellings of the poor, if they looked at it only as a

matter of finance (for, eventually, the state pays for all disease and

distress), it is probable they would put their shoulders to the wheel,

and get it out of the difficulty, at least as far as their fair share of

the matter goes.

Again, the more difficulty there is in legislating on this subject, and

especially if it can be shown that there is difficulty connected with it

of a kind almost insuperable by mere legislative efforts, the more there

remains for private individuals to do. I cannot believe but that human

ingenuity, in some form or other, will be able to surmount the evil in

question. The difference of expense in building a row of small cottages,

back to back, which it will be hard to ventilate, and which must be

without the most obvious household requisites, and that of building a row

of cottages each of which shall have a yard at the back, will be about 22

per cent. upon the outlay. Where one would cost 100 pounds, which is a

good price for the lowest class cottages, the other would cost 122

pounds. This calculation is independent of the cost of the additional

land which would be required. It is melancholy to think that this 22

pounds, and the price of the additional land must, in thousands of cases,

have determined the health and morality of the inmates. I do not mean to

say that this pecuniary difference is a slight matter, but still I do

think it is somehow or other to be provided for. There is always this to

be considered, that the better the tenement, the more it will be cared

for. In the same Committee I have mentioned before, the Town Clerk of

Leeds is asked:

"Would not the building of the better kind of cottages always secure

the best tenants?--Unquestionably.

"And the person who invested the property in buildings of that kind

would rather take six per cent. of good tenants than seven per cent.

of bad ones?--Yes; we have a number of instances in Leeds. There is

a gentleman named Croysdill, who has 200 or 300 cottages; he receives

the lowest rents on an average of any large proprietor of cottages,

and they are unquestionably the most comfortable dwellings, and the

best occupied."

It may be a strong thing to say, but I can conceive it possible, in a

Christian country, for a man to restrain himself from making the utmost

profit out of his possessions. I can imagine, for instance, an owner of

land in a town being unwilling to demand such a price for it, as would

prevent the cottages of the labouring people from being built with those

comforts and conveniences upon which civilization may almost be said to

depend. A man may think that there is some responsibility attached to

ownership; and he may not like to be in any way accessory to the building

of such habitations for the poor as he thoroughly disapproves of. And if

the owner of land feels this, still more may the capitalist who

undertakes to build upon it. It may be a satisfactory thing to collect

in any way much money; but I think, on the other hand, that most men have

a great pleasure in doing anything well, in a workmanlike and stable

manner. And, strange as it may seem, it is very possible that motives of

profit and loss may not be the only ones which have led to such miserable

building, as is often to be seen in the houses of the poor. People have

not thought about the matter. If they had seen the merit of building

good houses of a small kind, I think that in many cases, the additional

money required would not have stood in the way. In the Select Committee

of 1842, the following questions are asked of a witness from Liverpool:

"Is Liverpool a town which has a considerable quantity of land which

may be made available for the purpose of erecting houses?--There is a

good deal of land in the suburbs.

"The corporation possess a good deal of land?--They do.

* * * * *

"Have you had under your consideration the provisions of what is

called Lord Normanby's Act, by which it is forbidden to build houses

back to back?--Yes.

"What were the reasons which induced the Corporation of Liverpool not

to object to houses being so built?--If houses were not to be built

back to back there would be a great sacrifice of land."

I do not bring this evidence forward to censure that corporation, but

rather to excuse private persons in some measure, by showing the general

unconcern and ignorance about the subject. It appears that even a

corporate body, who might be expected to discern the value of public

health and morals, and not to be subdued by the prospect of immediate and

apparent gain, have at least not made any endeavour to introduce a good

system of building cottages for the poor of their own town. Not that

they, probably, were in the slightest degree, more mercenary than other

men; but it is only an instance to show how little attention has hitherto

been given to this subject.

There is at present in the metropolis, a Society for "improving the

dwellings of the industrious classes;" but what is one society? This is

a matter which ought to interest the owners of property, and the

employers of labour, throughout the country. Such a society as the one

named may do great good by building model houses, making scientific

investigations, and frequently laying before the public information on

the subject. But the proper division of labour, as it seems to me, would

be that the state should give every legislative facility for contemplated

improvements in the way of building, should encourage all researches into

the subject, and be ready to enforce by law such regulations as, without

any great intrusion upon private property, might secure for small houses

those primary requisites without which it cannot be expected that they

will be anything but nests of disease. In fact the state might,

eventually, so order the matter that builders should not merely build

such houses as the poor would take, for there is nothing in the way of a

shelter which they will refuse to occupy, but such as ought to be let to

them, with due care at least for the public health. The local

authorities should take upon themselves, the lighting, cleansing, paving,

supplying with water, and the like. For private individuals there

remains the most important part of the task, namely, the building of an

improved class of small houses. In this good work the employers of

labour may be expected to come prominently forward. Many a man will

speculate in all kinds of remote undertakings; and it will never occur to

him that one of the most admirable uses to which he might put his spare

capital, would be to provide fit dwelling places for the labouring

population around him. He is not asked to build alms houses. On the

contrary, let him take care to ensure, as far as he can, a good return

for the outlay, in order to avoid what may, possibly, be an unjust

interference with other men's property; and also, and chiefly, that his

building for the poor may not end in an isolated act of benevolence, but

may indicate a mode of employing capital likely to be followed by others.

In the present state of things, the rents of small houses are

disproportionately high because of the difficulty and uncertainty of

collecting the rents for them; but by any improvement you introduce into

the habits of the occupiers of such houses, you make this difficulty and

uncertainty less; and thereby diminish rents. And thus, in this case, as

in many others, physical and moral improvement go on acting and reacting

upon each other. It is likely, too, that these poor people will pay with

readiness and punctuality even a higher rent, if it be for a really good

tenement, than a small one for a place which they must inhabit in the

midst of filth, discomfort, and disease, and therefore with carelessness

and penury. Besides; the rents they pay now, will be found, I believe,

sufficient to reimburse the capitalist for an outlay which would suffice

to build tenements of a superior description to the present ones.

I do not mean to say that the beginners of such a system of employing

capital might not have a great deal to contend with: and it is to their

benevolence, and not to any money motives, that I would mainly appeal.

The devout feeling which in former days raised august cathedrals

throughout the land, might find an employment to the full as religious in

building a humble row of cottages, if they tell of honour to the great

Creator, in care for those whom he has bidden us to care for, and are

thus silently dedicated, as it were, to His name.

* * * * *

The allotment system has not hitherto, I believe, been tried to any

extent in the manufacturing districts. Mr. James Marshall, and Mr. Gott,

of Leeds have begun to try it; but I think it is but recently; and that

there has not yet been time to ascertain the result of the system. I

cannot but think, however, that it will be found more beneficial in

manufacturing, than even in rural, districts. Let us enumerate some of

the probable advantages. It would form an additional means of

support--it would tend to endear home to the working man--it would

provide a pleasing change of employment for him in good times--it would

render him not so listless when out of work--and it would give him

knowledge, an additional topic of conversation, and an interest in

various things which he might never, otherwise, have felt the least

concern for. Moreover, it amuses and occupies the little ones in a

family; and it leaves less temptation for parents to employ children too

early, in factories or workshops, when they can find something else for

them to do which may be profitable. In this respect, indeed, any

improvement in domestic comfort, or any additional domestic pursuit, is

likely to be beneficial, as it enlarges the sphere of household duties,

and creates more reasons for the wife and children being left at home.

Again, as there is hard labour to be done in a garden, this allotment

system might occasionally prevent the sense of an almost unnatural

dependence being so much exhibited, or felt, when the children are

employed in some factory, and the grown up people are not. This is one

of the greatest evils that at present attend the state of manufactures.

Some of the advantages which I have reckoned above, as likely to be

connected with the allotment system, are trifling things; but small

impulses, all tending one way, may lead to great results. The main

objection which, I suppose, will be taken, is that to make allotments in

crowded districts is scarcely practicable. Some beginning, however, has

been made at a place so crowded as Leeds, and at any rate, in any future

building arrangements, room might be left for allotments of land, which

would also secure many advantages with respect to the sanitary condition

of the people. It may be remarked, too, that any manufacturer, who

possessed cottages with allotments to them, would have an easy mode of

rewarding good behaviour. Such cottages would be eagerly sought after by

the men, and might be given, in preference, to those of good character.

Is all this romantic? Is it inevitable that the suburbs of a

manufacturing town must consist of dense masses of squalid habitations,

unblest by a proper supply of air, light, or water; undrained,

uncleansed, and unswept; enjoying only that portion of civilization which

the presence of the police declares; and presenting a scene which the

better orders hurry by with disgust? Or, on the contrary may we not,

without giving ourselves up to Utopian dreams, imagine that we might

enter the busy resorts of traffic through extensive suburbs consisting of

cottages with their bits of land; and see, as we came along, symptoms

everywhere around of housewifely occupations, and of homes which their

humble owners might often think of with pleasure during their day's

labour, looking forward to their return at evening with delight. The

richer classes, even those low down in the scale of wealth, mostly

struggle to secure some portion of country air for themselves: surely

they might do their best to provide for the working man something like a

change from the atmosphere of the factory, or workshop, in which he must

pass the greatest part of his day throughout the whole year.

Against what I have said above, it may be urged that it would prevent the

workman from living near his work. In many cases this may be an

inconvenience; but I do not imagine that, in general, it can be proved to

be an insurmountable, or even a very serious objection. Turning again to

the evidence of the Town Clerk of Leeds before the Building Committee, I

find the following:

"_Lord Ashley_. I have been told by several builders in London, that

in consequence of the improvements in the metropolis, great numbers

of people have been driven to the out-skirts of the town; but they

found in the out-skirts of the town an excellent house for less money

than when they lived in miserable lodgings in the heart of the town;

is this consistent with your experience in Leeds?--Quite consistent.

"And no hardship to themselves?--The distance of going to work is the

objection; but we find the poor people will for twenty years walk two

or three miles in a morning to their work at six o'clock, and seem no

worse for it."

V. THE TOWN.

It will not be a matter unworthy the attention of a great employer of

labour, to improve and embellish the town where his work is carried on.

It is his duty to have some care for its public buildings, and its

institutions. They are means for improving, sometimes by manifest

benefits, sometimes by silent influence, the condition of his men.

Surely if the employers of labour felt any thing like a home affection

for the towns where they live, they could not leave them in the rude,

unadorned state in which so many of them are. And where is a man's home,

if not where he can do most good; where he spends the best part of his

life; where he directs the labour, perhaps, of thousands, and absolutely

by his own exertion may affect the condition of the rising generation?

If such a man could see the many links of duty done, or duty disregarded,

that connect him with the spot where he works, let it be ever so dark,

squalid, and repulsive, he would still say that it was a great part of

his home, and not indulge too fondly in the idea of sunny meadows and

beautiful villas, to be enjoyed in some secure, golden, retirement. He

would take an interest in the erection of churches, hospitals, buildings

for the display of art, or indeed, in any institutions that would further

his great work by elevating the sentiments, or improving the physical

condition, of his men. The establishment of public baths would be

another matter worthy of his attention. At these baths the poor might be

admitted on payment of a small fee to cover the expense of attendants.

The Romans, induced by social or political motives, had their public

baths, to which citizens were admitted; who formed, however, but a small

part of their people: surely higher motives might prevail with us to have

similar baths, which should be open to all our population. While we are

speaking of institutions of various kinds, we must not omit Monts de

Piete, or Loan Societies, which may enable the poor man to get small

advances on reasonable terms. It will not be enough to establish such

things as we have spoken of: there is yet harder work to be done in the

management of them. All charitable institutions require vigorous

attention; and the better kind of men must not shrink from the public

business which they are the fittest to transact. If founders or

benefactors were the only people needed, one generation might monopolize

the beneficence of all time; but charitable institutions require for ever

duty to be done by living men. And, as I have intimated before, it is in

giving thought and labour, that we may often make the greatest and the

most profitable sacrifices for the good of others. But to go back to

mere embellishment--it is very apt to go hand in hand with material

improvements. Besides, it raises a higher standard. It declares that

there is something besides food and clothing. It may create, perhaps,

the love of beauty and order in minds that now seem sunk in sense. At

any rate it may do so in a coming generation. And it is not a little

matter if it attach the wealthier classes to these towns. This naturally

brings me to a subject of which I think the reader will, on

consideration, see the importance. I have heard it said, and thought, it

a far-seeing remark, that one of the greatest benefits which could be

conferred on manufacturing towns, would be to purify them from smoke, on

the ground that the wealthier classes would then have less objection to

reside in their vicinity: and, especially, that those who constitute the

natural aristocracy of the place, would not be so much tempted to remove

themselves from the spot where their fortunes had grown up.

Dr. Cooke Taylor, in his letters to the Archbishop of Dublin, speaking of

the parts of Manchester which "have been abandoned to the poorest grade

of all," says,

"Your Grace is aware that to some extent Dublin is similarly divided

into the city of the rich and the city of the poor; but I know that

many respectable and wealthy manufacturers reside in the liberties of

Dublin, while the smoke-nuisance drives every body from the township

of Manchester who can possibly find means of renting a house

elsewhere."

Now is the doing away of this smoke a sort of chimerical and Quixotic

undertaking? Not in the least. The experiments appear to be decisive

upon this point; and had there been a reasonable care for the health,

beauty, and cleanliness of the towns where their work is carried on, the

manufacturers would long ago have contrived, I believe, that there should

be no such thing as opaque smoke issuing from their chimneys. Count

Rumford says in his essays,

"I never view from a distance, as I come into town, this black cloud

which hangs over London without wishing to be able to compute the

immense number of chaldrons of coals of which it is composed; for

could this be ascertained, I am persuaded so striking a fact would

awaken the curiosity, and excite the astonishment, of all ranks of

the inhabitants, and _perhaps_ turn their minds to an object of

economy to which they have hitherto paid little attention."

The essay from which this extract is made was published in 1796: what

would the Count say now? I believe the calculation which he was thinking

of has been made. At any rate a near approximation might be; for I am

told, on scientific authority, that "the actual quantity of smoke hanging

any day over London is the fourth part of the fuel consumed on that day."

Mr. Cubitt, the great builder, in an examination before the House of

Commons, quoted by the Sanitary Report, thus expresses himself on this

subject:

"With respect to manufactories, here are a great number driven by

competition to work in the cheapest way they can. A man puts up a

steam-engine, and sends out an immense quantity of smoke; perhaps he

creates a great deal of foul and bad gas; that is all let loose.

Where his returns are 1000 pounds a month, if he would spend 5 pounds

a month more, he would make that completely harmless; but he says, 'I

am not bound to do that,' and therefore he works as cheaply as he

can, and the public suffer to an extent beyond all calculation."

To show how little loss is to be apprehended from regulations abating

this nuisance, the Sanitary Report cites the authority of

"Mr. Ewart, the Inspector of Machinery to the Admiralty, residing at

Her Majesty's Dockyard at Woolwich, where the chimney of the

manufactory under his immediate superintendence, regulated according

to his directions, offers an example of the little smoke that need be

occasioned from steam-engine furnaces if care be exercised. He

states that no peculiar machinery is used; the stoker or fire-keeper

is only required to exercise care in not throwing on too much coal at

once, and to open the furnace door in such slight degree as to admit

occasionally the small proportion of atmospheric air requisite to

effect complete combustion. Mr. Ewart also states that if the fire

be properly managed, there will be a saving of fuel. The extent of

smoke denotes the extent to which the combustion is incomplete. The

chimney belonging to the manufactory of Mr. Peter Fairbairn, engineer

at Leeds, also presents an example and a contrast to the chimneys of

nearly all the other manufactories which overcast that town. On each

side of it is a chimney belonging to another manufactory, pouring out

dense clouds of smoke; whilst the chimney at Mr. Fairbairn's

manufactory presents the appearance of no greater quantity of smoke

than of some private houses. Mr. Fairbairn stated, in answer to

inquiries upon this subject, that he uses what is called Stanley's

feeding machinery, which graduates the supply of coal so as to

produce nearly complete combustion. After the fire is once lighted,

little remains to the ignorance or the carelessness of the stoker.

Mr. Fairbairn also states that his consumption of fuel in his

steam-engine furnaces, in comparison with that of his immediate

neighbours, is proportionately less. The engine belonging to the

cotton-mills of Mr. Thomas Ashton, of Hyde, near Stockport, affords

to the people of that town an example of the extent to which, by a

little care, they might be relieved of the thick cloud of smoke by

which the district is oppressed.

"At a meeting of manufacturers and others, held at Leeds, for the

suppression of the nuisance of the smoke of furnaces, and to discuss

the various plans for abating it, the resolution was unanimously

adopted, 'That in the opinion of this meeting the smoke arising from

steam-engine fires and furnaces can be consumed, and that, too,

without injury to the boilers, and with a saving of fuel. Notice of

legal proceedings being given against Messrs. Meux, the brewers in

London, for a nuisance arising from the chimneys of two furnaces,

they found that by using anthracite coal they abated the nuisance to

the neighbourhood, and saved 200 pounds per annum. The West

Middlesex Water Company, by diminishing the smoke of their furnaces

saved 1000 per annum."

But, putting aside the consideration of any pecuniary benefit to be

gained, I think it would not be unreasonable to say that no considerate

owner of a factory would wait for public regulations in this matter, but

would, himself, be anxious to prevent his occupation from being injurious

to his neighbours. In a manufacturing town, a man may find some excuse,

though a most futile one, in the consideration that it would be of no use

for him alone to consume his smoke, when there are hundreds of others

over whom he has no influence to persuade them to follow his example.

But you sometimes see one of these foul-mouthed chimneys blackening a

neighbourhood generally free from such things, and it does not seem to

occur to the owner of the chimney that he is doing any thing wrong,

provided he is legally secure. Probably he gives away in the course of

the year such a sum as would put up an apparatus which would modify, if

not altogether remove, the smoke. Let him not think that charity

consists only in giving away something: I doubt whether he can find any

work of benevolence more useful to his neighbourhood and to society in

general, than putting a stop to this nuisance of his own creation. I am

not inclined to rest my case against it on the ground of health alone;

though I believe, with the Sanitary Commissioners, that it would be found

much more injurious than is generally imagined. When you find that

flowers and shrubs will not endure a certain atmosphere, it is a very

significant hint to the human creature to remove out of that

neighbourhood. But independently of the question of health, this

nuisance of smoke may be condemned simply on the ground of the waste and

injury which it occasions. And what is to be said on the other side?

What can any man allege in its favour? Our ancestors, who had

glimmerings occasionally, held that

"Si homme fait candells deins un vill, per qui il cause un noysom

sent al inhabitants, uncore ceo nest ascun nusans car le needfulness

de eux dispensera ove le noisomness del smell." (2 Rolls Abr. 139.)

This is quoted in a grave public document (the Sanitary Report): had we

met with it elsewhere, we might have concluded that it came from that

chronicle in which Mr. Sidney Smith found the account which he gives of

the meeting of the clergy at Dordrecht. I quote it, however, to show how

wisely our ancestors directed their attention in this instance. If they

had been begrimed with smoke as we are, and, upon inquiry, had found that

there was no "needfulness" to back the "noisomeness," it is probable they

would have dealt with it in their most summary manner. Whereas I fear

that Mr. Mackinnon's "Smoke Prohibition" Bill, amidst the hubbub of

legislation, has great difficulty in finding the attention which it

really deserves. The truth is, this smoke nuisance is one of the most

curious instances how little pains men will take to rid themselves from

evils which attack them only indirectly. If the pecuniary injury done to

the inhabitants of great towns by smoke could only be put in the form of

a smoke rate, what unwearied agitation there would be against it. But

surely we ought not to view with less hostility, because of its silent

noxiousness, a thing which injures the health of our children, if not of

people of all ages, disfigures our public buildings, creates

uncleanliness and gives an excuse for it, affects in some degree the

spirits of all persons who live under it, renders manufacturing towns

less welcome places of residence for the higher classes (which is what

brings it in connexion with the subject of this Essay); and is, thereby,

peculiarly injurious to the labouring population. If these pages should

survive to any future age, it will excite a smile in some curious reader

to see how urgent I have endeavoured to be about a matter which will then

be so obvious--"What strange barbarous times they must have been," he

will say to himself: "wisdom of our ancestors, forsooth!" "Far-off

reader," if there be such an entity, "do not presume: thou hast thy smoke

too."

* * * * *

In connexion with the subject of "the town," it may be well to go a

little into the matter of sewerage, which almost, above all things,

demands the attention of those who care for the health of the labouring

population, indeed, for the health of rich or poor.

This subject is admirably treated in a section of the Sanitary Report of

1842, under the head of "Arrangements for public health, external to the

residences." It is now almost a trite thing to show how closely

connected imperfect sewerage is with disease. Scientific men will tell

you that you may track a fever along the windings of an open drain. The

Sanitary Report mentions that,

"In the evidence given before the Committee of the House of Commons,

which received evidence on the subject in 1834, one medical witness

stated, that of all cases of severe typhus that he had seen,

eight-tenths were either in houses of which the drains from the

sewers were untrapped, or which, being trapped, were situated

opposite gully-holes; and he mentioned instances where servants

sleeping in the lower rooms of houses were invariably attacked with

fever."

The above is a good instance to show how necessary it is to have some

general measures on these matters of building and drainage. The expense

of trapping a gully-drain is about 3 pounds; at least that is what, I

understand, the Commissioners of Sewers are willing to do it for. Now is

it likely that any poor man, having one of these nuisances before his

door, will go to such an expense to have it prevented. It is probable

that it would be very good economy for him to do so, even if his whole

savings amounted only to 3 pounds. But we all know that few men are

far-thinking enough to invest much of their capital in a thing which

makes so little show as pure air. What do you find amongst the rich? Go

through the great squares, where, in one night, a man will lavish on some

entertainment what would almost purify his neighbourhood, and you will

often find the same evils there, though in a different degree, that you

have met with in the most crowded parts of the town. If the rich and

great have so little care about what comes

"Betwixt the wind and their nobility"

you can hardly expect persons, whose perception in such matters is much

less nice, to have any care at all. It is evident that the health of

towns requires to be watched by scientific men, and improvements

constantly urged on by persons who take an especial interest in the

subject. If I were a despot, I would soon have a band of Arnotts,

Chadwicks, Southwood Smiths, Smiths of Deanston, Joneses, and the like;

and one should have gratified a wiser ambition than Augustus if one could

say of any great town, Sordidam inveni, purgatam reliqui.

The supply of water is of course one of the chief means for the

purification of a town. It is at present, I fear, grievously neglected

throughout the country. The Sanitary Report draws attention to the mode

of supplying water to Bath, and gas to Manchester: and adduces the latter

as an instance "of the practicability of obtaining supplies for the

common benefit of a town without the agency of private companies." And

Mr. Chadwick, after a lengthened investigation into the subject which

will well repay perusal, thus concludes:

"I venture to add, as the expression of an opinion founded on

communications from all parts of the kingdom, that as a highly

important sanitary measure connected with any general building

regulations, whether for villages or for any class of towns,

arrangements should be made for all houses to be supplied with good

water, and should be prescribed as being as essential to cleanliness

and health as the possession of a roof or of due space; that for this

purpose, and in places where the supplies are not at present

satisfactory, power should be vested in the most eligible local

administrative body, which will generally be found to be that having

charge of cleansing and structural arrangements, to procure proper

supplies for the cleansing of the streets, for sewerage, for

protection against fires, as well as for domestic use."

It is possible that some of my readers may think that the wretched state

of ventilation, drainage, and building, which I have been commenting

upon, is mainly to be accounted for by poverty. It belongs, they may

say, to an old country; it is the long accumulated neglect of ages; it

embodies the many vicissitudes of trade which Great Britain has felt; it

is a thing which the people would remedy for themselves, if you could

only give them more employment and better wages. In answer to this I

will refer to an authority quoted by Mr. Chadwick in his Essay on the

"Pressure and Progress of the Causes of Mortality," read before the

Statistical Society in 1843.

"In abundance of employment, in high wages, and the chief

circumstances commonly reputed as elements of prosperity of the

labouring classes, the city of New York is deemed pre-eminent. I

have been favoured with a copy of '_The Annual Report of the

Interments in the City and County of New York for the Year_ 1842,'

presented to the Common Council by Dr. John Griscom, the city

inspector, in which it may be seen how little those circumstances

have hitherto preserved large masses of people from physical

depression. He has stepped out of the routine to examine on the spot

the circumstances attendant on the mortality which the figures

represent. He finds that upwards of 33,000 of the population of that

city live in cellars, courts, and alleys, of which 6618 are dwellers

in cellars. 'Many,' he states, 'of these back places are so

constructed as to cut off all circulation of air, the line of houses

being across the entrance, forming a _cul de sac_, while those in

which the line is parallel with, and at one side of the entrance, are

rather more favourably situated, but still excluded from any general

visitation of air in currents. As to the influence of these

localities upon the health and lives of the inmates, there is, and

can be, no dispute; but few are aware of the dreadful extent of the

disease and suffering to be found in them. In the damp, dark, and

chilly cellars, fevers, rheumatism, contagious and inflammatory

disorders, affections of the lungs, skin, and eyes, and numerous

others, are rife, and too often successfully combat the skill of the

physician and the benevolence of strangers.

"'I speak now of the influence of the locality merely. The degraded

habits of life, the degenerate morals, the confined and crowded

apartments, and insufficient food, of those who live in more elevated

rooms, comparatively beyond the reach of the exhalations of the soil,

engender a different train of diseases, sufficiently distressing to

contemplate; but the addition to all these causes of the foul

influences of the incessant moisture and more confined air of

under-ground rooms, is productive of evils which humanity cannot

regard without shuddering.'

"He gives instances where the cellar population had been ravaged by

fever, whilst the population occupying the upper apartments of the

same houses were untouched. In respect to the condition of these

places, he cites the testimony of a physician, who states that,

'frequently in searching for a patient living in the same cellar, my

attention has been attracted to the place by a peculiar and nauseous

effluvium issuing from the door, indicative of the nature and

condition of the inmates.' A main cause of this is the filthy

external state of the dwellings and defective street cleansing and

defective supplies of water, which, except that no provision is made

for laying it on the houses of the poorer classes, is about to be

remedied by a superior public provision."

After considering this account of the State of New York, it will hardly

do to say, that, even under favourable circumstances, you can leave the

great mass of the people to take care of those structural arrangements

with regard to their habitations, which only the scientific research of

modern times has taught any persons to regard with due attention.

* * * * *

We have now gone over some of the principal places where the employer of

labour may find scope for benevolent exertion. It has been a most

inartificial division of the subject, but still one that may be retained

in the memory, which is a strange creature, not always to be bound by

logic, but led along by minute ties of association, among which those of

place are very strong and clinging. I now venture to discuss a branch of

the subject which can hardly be referred to any particular spot, unless,

indeed, I were to name the manufacturer's own house as the fit ground for

it: I mean the social intercourse between the employers and the employed.

Some persons will, perhaps, be startled at the phrase; hardly, however,

those who have come thus far with me. By social intercourse I do not

merely mean that which will naturally take place in the ordinary

charities, such as visiting the sick, managing clothing societies, and

the like: but that intercourse which includes an interchange of thought,

an occasional community of pursuit, and an opportunity of indirect

instruction; which may be frequent and extensive enough to avoid the evil

effects of a sense of perpetual condescension on one side, and timidity

on the other; and which may give the employer some chance at least of

learning the general wants and wishes of his people, and also of

appreciating their individual characters.

This matter is not an easy one. It requires tact, patience, discretion,

and the application of several of the maxims mentioned in the preceding

chapter. I am not sure however, that it is any sacrifice whatever in the

way of pleasure. The manufacturer's family who occasionally give an

evening to social intercourse with their people, will not, perhaps, find

that evening less amusing than many that they may pass with their equals.

The advantage, to the rising generation of working people, of some

intercourse with their betters, would be very great. I must here quote

the authority of one who has fully expressed in action the benevolent

views which he has indicated in the following words. "No humble cottage

youth or maiden will ever acquire the charm of pleasing manners by rules,

or lectures, or sermons, or legislation, or any other of those abortive

means by which we from time to time endeavour to change poor human

nature, if they are not permitted to _see_ what they are taught they

should practise, and to hold intercourse with those whose manners are

superior to their own." This intercourse will probably lead to something

like accomplishments among the young people. Some of them will profit

more than others from the manners and accomplishments which they will

observe. And such differences will create a higher order of love among

the working people. The manners of one sex will become different from

the manners of the other; and the difference of individuals in each sex

will be brought into play. All this is favourable to morality. When

people work at the same kind of work, have no different pursuits to call

out the different qualities of the two sexes, and have all of them

manners of the same rude stamp, you can hardly expect that there will be

much to ennoble them in their affections.

But, in themselves, the accomplishments and acquirements, which working

people may attain from social intercourse with their betters, are great

things. The same kind-hearted employer, whom I have quoted before,

speaks thus upon the subject. "Another point which has appeared to me of

great importance is to provide as many resources as possible of interest

and amusement for their leisure hours; something to which they may return

with renewed relish when their daily work is done; which may render their

homes cheerful and happy, and may afford subjects of thought,

conversation and pursuit among them." Moreover, a habit of attention,

and even scientific modes of thought, are often called out in young

people when they are learning some game. Besides to do anything, or know

anything, which is harmless, is beneficial. A man will not be a worse

workman because he can play at cricket, or at chess; or because he is a

good draughtsman, or can touch some musical instrument with skill. He is

likely to have more self-respect, and to be a better citizen. He cannot

succeed in anything without attention and endurance. And these are the

qualities which will enable him to behave reasonably in the vicissitudes

of trade, or to prepare as much as possible against them.

In the Report on the condition of children and young persons employed in

Mines and Manufactures, there is some remarkable evidence given by a man

who had himself risen from the state of life which he describes. It

leads us to perceive the great good which any improvement in the domestic

accomplishments of the women might be expected to produce. He says,

"Children during their childhood toil throughout the day, acquiring

not the least domestic instruction to fit them for wives and mothers.

I will name one instance; and this applies to the general condition

of females doomed to, and brought up amongst, shop-work. My mother

worked in a manufactory from a very early age. She was clever and

industrious; and, moreover, she had the reputation of being virtuous.

She was regarded as an excellent match for a working man. She was

married early. She became the mother of eleven children: I am the

eldest. To the best of her ability she performed the important

duties of a wife and mother. She was lamentably deficient in

domestic knowledge; in that most important of all human instruction,

how to make the home and the fireside to possess a charm for her

husband and children, she had never received one single lesson. She

had children apace. As she recovered from her lying-in, so she went

to work, the babe being brought to her at stated times to receive

nourishment. As the family increased, so any thing like comfort

disappeared altogether. The power to make home cheerful and

comfortable was never given to her. She knew not the value of

cherishing in my father's mind a love of domestic objects. Not one

moment's happiness did I ever see under my father's roof. All this

dismal state of things I can distinctly trace to the entire and

perfect absence of all training and instruction to my mother. He

became intemperate; and his intemperance made her necessitous. She

made many efforts to abstain from shop-work; but her pecuniary

necessities forced her back into the shop. The family was large, and

every moment was required at home. I have known her, after the close

of a hard day's work, sit up nearly all night for several nights

together washing and mending of clothes. My father could have no

comfort here. These domestic obligations, which in a well-regulated

house (even in that of a working man, where there are prudence and

good management) would be done so as not to annoy the husband, to my

father were a source of annoyance; and he, from an ignorant and

mistaken notion, sought comfort in an alehouse.

"My mother's ignorance of household duties; my father's consequent

irritability and intemperance; the frightful poverty; the constant

quarrelling; the pernicious example to my brothers and sisters; the

bad effect upon the future conduct of my brothers; one and all of us

being forced out to work so young that our feeble earnings would

produce only 1_s._ a-week; cold and hunger, and the innumerable

sufferings of my childhood, crowd upon my mind and overpower me.

They keep alive a deep anxiety for the emancipation of the thousands

of families in this great town and neighbourhood, who are in a

similar state of horrible misery. My own experience tells me that

the instruction of the females in the work of a house, in teaching

them to produce cheerfulness and comfort at the fireside, would

prevent a great amount of misery and crime. There would be fewer

drunken husbands and disobedient children. As a working man, within

my own observation, female education is disgracefully neglected. I

attach more importance to it than to any thing else."

This evidence is the more significant, because, one sees that the poor

woman had the material of character out of which the most engaging

qualities might have been formed. Let her have seen better things in

early life, and even if her schooling had been somewhat deficient, had

she but enjoyed the advantage of such social intercourse with her betters

as we are now considering, that poor woman might have been a source of

joy and hope to her family, instead of a centre of repulsion.

Dr. Cooke Taylor, in his "Tour in the Manufacturing Districts," has given

a table, which I subjoin, "showing the degree of instruction, age, and

sex; of the persons taken into custody, summarily convicted, or held to

bail, and tried and convicted, in Manchester, in the year 1841." The

table was formed on statistical details furnished by Sir Charles Shaw.

It shows a state of facts which has been deduced from other tables of a

like nature, but the facts are of such moment, that they can hardly be

kept too much in mind; especially when we consider that there are large

towns in which, as I have said before, half at least of the juvenile

population is growing up without education of any kind whatever. {147}

If such are the favourable results even of that small and superficial

education, which by the way I would rather call instruction than

education, described in the second and third headings of the table, what

may we not expect from a training where the youth or maiden finds in her

employers not only instructors, but friends and occasional companions?

What store of labour on the part of judges, jailors, and policemen, must

be saved by even a few of such employers.

TOTAL IN THE YEAR 1841. Degree of Instruction

1. Neither Read nor 2. Read only or 3. Read and Write 4. Superior

Write. Read & Write well. Instruction.

imperfectly.

M. & F. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem.

1st Class Taken into 13345 9925 3420 4901 2070 3944 1218 873 119 207 13

Custody

2nd Class Summarily 2138 1661 447 795 265 660 198 193 14 13 . .

Convicted or

held to Bail

3rd Class Tried and 24 645 179 277 100 276 72 82 7 10 . .

Convicted

AGES.

Under 10 10 Years, & 15 Years, & 20 Years, & 25 Years, & 30 Years, & 40 Years, & 50 Years & 60 Years, &

Years of age. under 15. under 20. under 25. under 30. under 40. under 50. under 60. upwards.

Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem. Male. Fem.

1st 62 6 681 83 1581 656 2425 909 1805 755 1775 582 1018 284 422 85 156 60

Class

2nd 4 . . 151 17 302 84 418 150 264 93 327 75 129 39 49 14 17 5

Class

3rd . . . . 30 2 150 54 196 61 97 21 109 25 43 11 15 3 5 2

Class

Some persons may object to encouraging anything like refinement amongst

the operatives; and others, who would hardly object in open terms, find

it difficult to reconcile themselves to the idea of it. Whatever there

is in this repugnance that arises from any selfish motive should be

instantly cast aside. Do not let us be meanly afraid that the classes

below us will tread too closely on our heels. What a disgrace it is, if,

with our much larger opportunities of leisure, with professions that

demand a perpetual exercise of the intellectual faculties, we cannot

preserve, on the average, an intellectual superiority fully equivalent to

the difference of rank and station. Let the vast tracts now left barren

smile with cultivation: the happier lands, which the rivers of

civilization have enriched for ages, will still maintain their supremacy.

And remember this, that every insight you give the humbler classes into

the vast expanse of knowledge, you give them the means of estimating with

a deference founded on reason, those persons who do possess knowledge of

any kind. Let us have faith that knowledge must in the long run lead to

good; and let us not fancy that our prosperity as a class depends upon

the ignorance of those beneath us. Has not our partial enlightenment

taught us in some measure to be reconciled to the fact of there being

classes above us? And why should we fear that knowledge, which smoothes

so many of the rugged things in life, should be found unavailing to

soften the inequalities of social distinction? It is the ignorant

barbarians who can pluck the Roman Senate by the beard; and who, in the

depth of savageness, can see nothing in sex, age, station, or office, to

demand their veneration. Make the men around you more rational, more

instructed, more helpful, more hopeful creatures if you can; above all

things treat them justly: and I think you may put aside any apprehension

of disturbing the economy of the various orders of the state. And if it

can be so disturbed, let it be.

What I have said above is not drawn from airy fancies of my own. Such

things as I have suggested, have been done. I could mention one man, who

might not, however, thank me for naming him, who has devoted himself to

the social improvement of his working people: and, without such an

example, I should never, perhaps, have thought of, or ventured to put

forward, the above suggestions with respect to the social intercourse

between masters and men. It is the same benevolent manufacturer from

whose letters to Mr. Horner I have made extracts before. The general

system on which he has acted may be best explained in his own words. "In

all plans for the education of the labouring classes my object would be

_not to raise any individuals among them above their condition_, _but to

elevate the condition itself_. For I am not one of those who think that

the highest ambition of a working man should be to rise above the station

in which Providence has placed him, or that he should be taught to

believe that because the humblest, it is therefore the least happy and

desirable condition of humanity. This is, indeed, a very common notion

among the working classes of the people, and a very natural one; and it

has been encouraged by many of their superiors, who have interested

themselves in the cause of popular improvement, and have undertaken to

direct and stimulate their exertions. Examples have constantly been held

up of men who by unusual ability and proficiency in some branch of

science had raised themselves above the condition of their birth, and

risen to eminence and wealth; and these instances have been dwelt upon

and repeated, in a manner, that, whether intentionally or not, produces

the impression that positive and scientific knowledge is the summum bonum

of human education, and that to rise above our station in life, should be

the great object of our exertion. This is not my creed. I am satisfied

that it is an erroneous one, in _any_ system of education for _any_ class

of men. Our object ought to be, not to produce a few clever individuals,

distinguished above their fellows by their comparative superiority, but

to make the great mass of individuals on whom we are operating, virtuous,

sensible, well-informed, and well-bred men." And again he states that

his object is "to show to his people and to others, that there is nothing

in the nature of their employment, or in the condition of their humble

lot, that condemns them to be rough, vulgar, ignorant, miserable, or

poor:--that there is nothing in either that forbids them to be

well-bred--well-informed, well-mannered--and surrounded by every comfort

and enjoyment that can make life happy;--in short, to ascertain and to

prove what the condition of this class of people might be made--what _it

ought to be_ made--what is the interest of all parties that _it should

be_ made."

* * * * *

Before concluding this chapter, I must say a few more words on the

general subject of interference. No one can be more averse than I am to

unnecessary interference, or more ready to perceive the many evils which

attend it. There is, however, the danger of carrying non-interference

into inhumanity. Mankind are so accustomed to the idea that government

mainly consists in coercion, that they sometimes find it difficult to

consider interference, even as applied to benevolent undertakings, and

for social government, in any other than a bad light. But take the rule

of a father, which is the type of all good government, that under which

the divine jurisdiction has been graciously expressed to us. Consider

how a wise father will act as regards interference. His anxiety will not

be to drag his child along, undeviatingly, in the wake of his own

experience; but rather, to endue him with that knowledge of the chart and

compass, and that habitual observation of the stars, which will enable

the child, himself, to steer safely over the great waters. Such a father

will not be unreasonably solicitous to assimilate his son's character or

purposes to his own. He will not fall into the error of supposing that

experience is altogether a transferable commodity. The greatest good

which he designs for his son will, perhaps, be that which he can give him

indirectly, and which he may never speak to the youth about. He will

seek to surround him with good opportunities and favourable means: and

even when he interferes more directly, he will endeavour, in the first

instance, to lead rather than to compel, so that some room for choice may

still be left. Not thinking that his own power, his own dignity, his own

advantage are the chief objects for him to look to, his imagination will

often be with those whom he rules; and he will thus be able to look at

his own conduct with their eyes, not with his. This, alone, will keep

him from a multiplicity of errors. Now the same principles, actuated by

the same kind of love, should be at the bottom of all social government.

I believe that we shall be better able in practice to place wise limits

to interference by regulating and enlightening the animus which prompts

it, than by laying down rules for its action determined upon abstract

considerations. The attempt to fix such rules is not to be despised; but

if the persons, or society, about to interfere on any occasion, desired a

good object from right motives, I think they would have the best chance

of keeping themselves from using wrong means. In many cases, an unwise

interference takes place from a partial apprehension of the good to be

aimed at: enlarge and exalt the object; let it not be one-sided; and

probably the mode of attaining it will partake largely of the wisdom

shown in the choice of it. If, for instance, a government saw that it

had to encourage, not only judicious physical arrangements, but mental

and moral development, amongst those whom it governs, it would be very

cautious of suppressing, or interfering with, any good thing which the

people would accomplish for themselves. The same with a private

individual, an employer of labour for instance, if he values the

independence of character and action in those whom he employs, he will be

careful in all his benevolent measures, to leave room for their energy to

work. What does he want to produce? Something vital, not something

mechanical. It is often a deficiency of benevolence, and not an

overflow, that makes people interfering in a bad sense. Frequently the

same spirit which would make a man a tyrant in government, would make him

a busy-body, a meddler, or a pedantic formalist, in the relations of

ordinary life. I have taken the instance of father and son, which might

be supposed by many as one in which extreme interference was not only

justifiable, but requisite. In stating how necessary it is even there to

be very careful as regards the extent and mode of interference, I leave

my readers to estimate how essential it must be in all other cases where

the relation is not of that closely connected character. I believe that

the parental relation will be found the best model on which to form the

duties of the employer to the employed; calling, as it does, for active

exertion, requiring the most watchful tenderness, and yet limited by the

strictest rules of prudence from intrenching on that freedom of thought

and action which is necessary for all spontaneous development.