I cannot bring myself to believe that with all these safeguards it

will not be possible for the coal industry, if given time, to

accommodate itself to the new conditions. It is only two years ago

that I was invited from the benches opposite to contemplate the

approaching ruin of the gold mines of the Rand through the change

introduced in the methods of working. That change has been enforced,

with the result that working expenses have been reduced, and the

standard of production has increased. In making that transition, if

time had not been allowed to tide over the period of change, then,

indeed, you might have had that disaster which hon. gentlemen opposite

have always been ready to apprehend. But there is here to be a gradual

process of adaptation, for which not less than five years is

permitted.

We are told that positive reasons, and not negative reasons, ought to

be given in support of a measure which regulates the hours of adult

labour--that you ought to show, not that it will do no harm, but that

good will come from it. There are, of course, such reasons in support

of this Bill, but they are so obvious that they have not been dwelt

upon as much as they might have been. The reasons are social reasons.

We believe that the well-being of the mining population, numbering

some 900,000 persons, will be sensibly advanced in respect of health,

industrial efficiency, habits of temperance, education, culture, and

the general standard of life. We have seen that in the past the

shortening of hours has produced beneficial effects in these respects,

and we notice that in those parts of the country where the hours of

coal-mining are shortest, the University Extension lecturers find that

the miners take an intelligent interest in their lectures--and it is

among the miners of Fifeshire that a considerable development in

gardening and also of saving to enable them to own their own houses,

has followed on a longer period of leisure.

But the general march of industrial democracy is not towards

inadequate hours of work, but towards sufficient hours of leisure.

That is the movement among the working people all over the country.

They are not content that their lives should remain mere alternations

between bed and the factory. They demand time to look about them, time

to see their homes by daylight, to see their children, time to think

and read and cultivate their gardens--time, in short, to live. That is

very strange, perhaps, but that is the request they have made and are

making with increasing force and reason as years pass by.

No one is to be pitied for having to work hard, for nature has

contrived a special reward for the man who works hard. It gives him an

extra relish, which enables him to gather in a brief space from simple

pleasures a satisfaction in search of which the social idler wanders

vainly through the twenty-four hours. But this reward, so precious in

itself, is snatched away from the man who has won it, if the hours of

his labour are too long or the conditions of his labour too severe to

leave any time for him to enjoy what he has won.

Professor Marshall, in his "Principles of Economics," says:

"The influence which the standard of hours of work exerts on economic

activities is partially obscured by the fact that the earnings of a

human being are commonly counted gross; no special reckoning being

made for his wear-and-tear, of which he is himself rather careless.

Further, very little account is taken of the evil effects of the

overwork of men on the well-being of the next generation.... When the

hours and the general conditions of labour are such as to cause great

wear-and-tear of body or mind or both, and to lead to a low standard

of living; when there has been a want of that leisure, rest, and

repose which are among the necessaries for efficiency, then the labour

has been extravagant from the point of view of society at large....

And, since material wealth exists for the sake of man, and not man for

the sake of material wealth, the replacement of inefficient and

stunted human lives by more efficient and fuller lives would be a gain

of a higher order than any temporary material loss that might have

been occasioned on the way."

If it be said that these arguments are general, is it not true that

special circumstances differentiate the case of coal-miners from that

of many other industries in this country? Others have spoken of the

heat of the mine, the danger of fire-damp, of the cramped position, of

the muscular exertions of the miner, at work in moist galleries

perhaps a mile under the ground. I select the single fact of

deprivation of natural light. That alone is enough to justify

Parliament in directing upon the industry of coal-mining a specially

severe scrutiny and introducing regulations of a different character

from those elsewhere.

The hon. Member for Windsor[10] who moved the rejection of this Bill

described it as a reckless and foolhardy experiment. I see the miner

emerging from the pit after eight hours' work with the assertion on

his lips that he, at any rate, has paid his daily debt to his fellow

men. Is the House of Commons now going to say to him, "You have no

right to be here. You have only worked eight hours. Your appearance on

the surface of the earth after eight hours' work is, to quote the hon.

Member, 'a reckless and foolhardy experiment'"? I do not wonder at the

miners' demand. I cannot find it in my heart to feel the slightest

surprise, or indignation, or mental disturbance at it. My capacity for

wonder is entirely absorbed, not by the miners' demand, but by the

gentleman in the silk hat and white waistcoat who has the composure

and the complacency to deny that demand and dispute it with him.

The hon. Member for Dulwich[11]--himself a convinced protectionist,

with a tariff with 1,200 articles in its schedules in his coat-tail

pocket--has given us a delightful lecture on the importance of

cheapness of production. Think of the poor consumer! Think of the

importance to our industries of cheapness of production! We on this

side are great admirers of cheapness of production. We have reminded

the hon. gentleman of it often; but why should cheapness of production

always be achieved at the expense of the human factor? The hon.

gentleman spoke with anxiety of the possibility of a rise in miners'

wages as a consequence of this Bill. Has he considered the relation of

miners' wages to the selling prices of coal? At the pit's mouth the

underground-workers' wages are only 60 per cent. of the selling price

of coal. Free on board on the Tyne, the proportion is only 38 per

cent. As coal is sold here in the south of England the proportion of

wages is less than one-fifth of the whole price. Is it not clear that

there are other factors at least which require consideration before

you decide to deal with the human factor, which first attracts the

attention of the hon. gentleman?

What about mining royalties? In all this talk about the importance of

cheap coal to our industries and to the poor consumer we have had no

mention of mining royalties. No. We never mention that. Yet, will the

House believe it, it is estimated that mining royalties impose a toll

of 6 per cent., calculated on the price of coal at the pit's mouth, or

considerably more than half the total diminished production which

could result from this humane Act of labour legislation.

But we are asked: "Why stop here? Why don't your arguments apply

elsewhere?" and we are told of people whose conditions of life are

worse than some of those of coal-miners. Why stop here? Who ever said

we would stop here? I welcome and support this measure, not only for

its own sake, but much more because it is, I believe, simply the

precursor of the general movement which is in progress all over the

world, and in other industries besides this, towards reconciling the

conditions of labour with the well-ascertained laws of science and

health. If we are told that because we support this measure we shall

be inflicting an injury or injustice on other classes of the

population, I say there is a great solidarity among all classes of

manual labourers. I believe that when they consider this matter they

will see that all legitimate interests are in harmony, that no one

class can obtain permanent advantage by undue strain on another, and

that in the end their turn will come for shorter hours, and will come

the sooner because they have aided others to obtain that which they

desire themselves.

When the House is asked to contemplate gloomy pictures of what will

follow on this Bill, let them recur to the example of Parliaments gone

by. When the Ten Hours Bill was introduced in 1847, a Bill which

affected the hours of adult males inferentially, the same lugubrious

prophecies were indulged in from both sides of the House.

Distinguished economists came forward to prove that the whole profit

of the textile industry was reaped after the eleventh hour. Famous

statesmen on both sides spoke strongly against the measure. The

Parliament, in 1847, was in the same sort of position as we are to-day

in this respect, but how differently circumstanced in other respects.

That Parliament did not enjoy the wide and accurate statistical

information in every branch of labour which enables us to-day to move

forward with discretion and prudence. They were not able to look to

the general evidences of commercial security and expansion on which

modern politicians can rely. They could not show, as we can show,

overwhelming examples of owlish prophets dazzlingly disproved; they

could not point, as we can point, to scores of cases where not only

increased efficiency, but a positive increase in output has followed

the reduction of the hours of labour. The principle was new, the

future was vague. But the Parliament of those days did not quail. They

trusted to broad, generous instincts of common sense; they drew a

good, bold line; and we to-day enjoy in a more gentle, more humane,

more skilful, more sober, and more civilised population the blessings

which have followed their acts. Now it is our turn. Let us vote for

the Second Reading of this Bill, and in so doing establish a claim

upon the respect of Parliaments to come, such as we ourselves owe to

Parliaments of the past.[12]

FOOTNOTES:

[10] Mr. J.F. Mason.

[11] Mr. Bonar Law.

[12] This concluded the debate, and the Second Reading was carried by

390 to 120.

UNEMPLOYMENT

KINNAIRD HALL, DUNDEE, _October 10, 1908_

(From _The Times_, by permission.)

What is the political situation which unfolds itself to our

reflections to-night? I present it to you without misgivings or

reserve. For nearly three years a Liberal Administration, more

democratic in its character, more widely selected in its _personnel_,

more Radical in the general complexion of its policy, than any that

has previously been known to British history, has occupied the place

of power. During the whole of that period no single serious

administrative mistake, either at home or abroad, has embarrassed or

discredited the conduct of public affairs. Three Parliamentary

Sessions, fruitful beyond precedent in important legislation, have

been surmounted with dignity and dispatch. The authority and influence

of Great Britain among foreign Powers have been prudently guarded, and

are now appreciably augmented, and that authority and influence have

been consistently employed, and will be in the future employed, in

soothing international rivalries and suspicion, in asserting a proper

respect for public law, in preserving a just and harmonious balance

amongst great Powers, and in forwarding as opportunities have served,

whether in the Near East or in the Congo, causes of a generous and

disinterested humanitarianism.

The British Empire itself has enjoyed under Liberal rule a period of

prosperous tranquillity, favourable both to development and

consolidation; and it is no exaggeration to say that it was never more

strong or more peacefully united than at the present moment. The

confidence which the whole country, irrespective of party, feels in

Sir Edward Grey in the present European crisis, is the measure of our

success in foreign affairs. The gathering of the Convention of a

United South Africa is in itself a vindication of colonial policy.

Each year for which we have been responsible has been marked by some

great and beneficent event which has commanded the acquiescence--or at

least silenced the dissent--of many of our professed opponents. In

1906 the charter of trade unions; in 1907, the conciliation and

settlement of South Africa; in 1908, the establishment of old-age

pensions. These are large matters; they will take their place in the

history book; and on them alone, if necessary, I would confidently

base the claims of his Majesty's Government to respect, if not to

renown, in future times.

But although we do not meet to-night in any atmosphere of crisis, nor

in any expectation of a general election, nevertheless I feel, and I

dare say you feel too, that we have reached a climacteric in the life

of this Parliament. The next six months will probably determine the

whole remaining fortunes of the Government, and decide whether a

gradual but progressive decline will slowly carry the Administration

in the natural course to the grave where so many others are peacefully

slumbering, or whether, deriving fresh vigour from its exertions, it

will march forward conquering and to conquer.

I said a few minutes ago that this session had been marked by a

measure of great and cardinal importance. Surely no one will deny the

magnitude and significance of the step which has been taken in the

establishment of a system of old-age pensions. It marks the assertion

in our social system of an entirely new principle in regard to

poverty, and that principle, once asserted, cannot possibly be

confined within its existing limits. Old-age pensions will carry us

all a very long way. They have opened a door which will not soon or

easily be closed. The members of both Houses of Parliament have been

led to the verge of the cruel abyss of poverty, and have been in

solemn session assembled to contemplate its depths and its gloom. All

alike have come to gaze; none have remained unmoved. There are some

distinguished and eminent men, men whose power and experience I cannot

impugn, who have started back appalled by what they have seen, and

whose only idea is to slam the door on the grim and painful prospect

which has been revealed to their eyes.

But that is not the only spirit which has been awakened in our

country; there are others, not less powerful, and a greater number,

who will never allow that door to be closed; they have got their feet

in it, they are resolved that it shall be kept open. Nay, more, they

are prepared to descend into the abyss, and grapple with its evils--as

sometimes you see after an explosion at a coal mine a rescue party

advancing undaunted into the smoke and steam. Now there is the issue

on which the future of this Parliament hangs--"Forward or back?"

Voices sound loud and conflicting in our ears; the issue, the sharpest

and simplest, the most tremendous that can be put to a generation of

men--"Forward or backward?"--is the issue which confronts us at the

present time, and on it the future of the Government is staked. There

are faint-hearted friends behind; there are loud-voiced foes in front.

The brewer's dray has been pulled across the road, and behind it are

embattled a formidable confederation of vested interests. A

mountainous obstacle of indifference and apathy bars our advance. What

is your counsel? Forward or Back?

Let it be remembered that aged poverty is not the only evil with

which, so far as our means allow, we have to grapple. What is the

problem of the hour? It can be comprised in one word--Unemployment.

After two years of unexampled trade expansion, we have entered upon a

period of decline. We are not alone in this. A reaction from

overtrading is general all over the world. Both Germany and the United

States are suffering from a similar commercial contraction, and in

both countries, in spite of their high and elaborate protective

tariffs, a trade set-back has been accompanied by severe industrial

dislocation and unemployment. In the United States of America,

particularly, I am informed that unemployment has recently been more

general than in this country. Indeed the financial collapse in the

United States last autumn has been the most clearly marked of all the

causes to which the present trade depression may be assigned.

It is not yet possible to say that the end of that period of

depression is in sight; but there are some significant indications

which I think justify the hope that it will be less severe and less

prolonged than has been known in other trade cycles, or than some

people were at first inclined to believe. But the problem of

unemployment is not confined to periods of trade depression, and will

not be solved by trade revival; and it is to that problem in its

larger and more permanent aspects that I desire to draw your attention

for a short time to-night.

There is no evidence that the population of Great Britain has

increased beyond the means of subsistence. On the contrary, our wealth

is increasing faster than our numbers. Production is active; industry

grows, and grows with astonishing vigour and rapidity. Enterprise in

this country requires no artificial stimulant; if it errs at all, it

is from time to time upon the side of overtrading and overproduction.

There is no ground for believing that this country is not capable of

supporting an increasing population in a condition of expanding

prosperity.

It must, however, be remembered that the British people are more than

any other people in the world a manufacturing people. It is certain

that our population could never have attained its present vast

numbers, nor our country have achieved its position in the world,

without an altogether unusual reliance upon manufacture as opposed to

simple agriculture. The ordinary changes and transitions inseparable

from the active life and growth of modern industry, therefore, operate

here with greater relative intensity than in other countries. An

industrial disturbance is more serious in Great Britain than in other

countries, for it affects a far larger proportion of the people, and

in their distresses the urban democracy are not sustained by the same

solid backing of country-folk and peasant cultivators that we see in

other lands. It has, therefore, become a paramount necessity for us to

make scientific provision against the fluctuations and set-backs

which are inevitable in world commerce and in national industry.

We have lately seen how the backwash of an American monetary

disturbance or a crisis in the Near East or in the Far East, or some

other cause influencing world trade, and as independent of our control

as are the phases of the moon, may easily have the effect of letting

loose upon thousands of humble families and households all the horrors

of a state of siege or a warlike blockade. Then there are strikes and

trade disputes of all kinds which affect vast numbers of people

altogether unconcerned in the quarrel. Now, I am not going to-night to

proclaim the principle of the "right to work." There is not much use

in proclaiming a right apart from its enforcement; and when it is

enforced there is no need to proclaim it. But what I am here to

assert, and to assert most emphatically, is the responsibility of

Government towards honest and law-abiding citizens; and I am surprised

that that responsibility should ever be challenged or denied.

When there is a famine in India, when owing to some unusual course of

nature the sky refuses its rains and the earth its fruits, relief

works are provided in the provinces affected, trains of provisions are

poured in from all parts of that great Empire, aid and assistance are

given to the population involved, not merely to enable them to survive

the period of famine, but to resume their occupations at its close. An

industrial disturbance in the manufacturing districts and the great

cities of this country presents itself to the ordinary artisan in

exactly the same way as the failure of crops in a large province in

India presents itself to the Hindu cultivator. The means by which he

lives are suddenly removed, and ruin in a form more or less swift and

terrible stares him instantly in the face. That is a contingency which

seems to fall within the most primary and fundamental obligations of

any organisation of Government. I do not know whether in all countries

or in all ages that responsibility could be maintained, but I do say

that here and now in this wealthy country and in this scientific age

it does in my opinion exist, is not discharged, ought to be

discharged, and will have to be discharged.

The social machinery at the basis of our industrial life is deficient,

ill-organised, and incomplete. While large numbers of persons enjoy

great wealth, while the mass of the artisan classes are abreast of and

in advance of their fellows in other lands, there is a minority,

considerable in numbers, whose condition is a disgrace to a scientific

and professedly Christian civilisation, and constitutes a grave and

increasing peril to the State. Yes, in this famous land of ours, so

often envied by foreigners, where the grace and ease of life have been

carried to such perfection, where there is so little class hatred and

jealousy, where there is such a wide store of political experience and

knowledge, where there are such enormous moral forces available, so

much wisdom, so much virtue, so much power, we have not yet succeeded

in providing that necessary apparatus of insurance and security,

without which our industrial system is not merely incomplete, but

actually inhumane.

I said that disturbances of our industrial system are often started

from outside this country by causes utterly beyond our control. When

there is an epidemic of cholera, or typhoid, or diphtheria, a healthy

person runs less risk than one whose constitution is prepared to

receive the microbes of disease, and even if himself struck down, he

stands a far greater chance of making a speedy recovery. The social

and industrial conditions in Great Britain at this present time cannot

be described as healthy. I discern in the present industrial system of

our country three vicious conditions which make us peculiarly

susceptible to any outside disturbance of international trade. First,

the lack of any central organisation of industry, or any general and

concerted control either of ordinary Government work, or of any

extraordinary relief works. It would be possible for the Board of

Trade to foretell with a certain amount of accuracy the degree of

unemployment likely to be reached in any winter. It ought to be

possible for some authority in some Government office--which I do not

care--to view the whole situation in advance, and within certain

limits to exert a powerful influence over the general distribution of

Government contracts.

There is nothing economically unsound in increasing temporarily and

artificially the demand for labour during a period of temporary and

artificial contraction. There is a plain need of some averaging

machinery to regulate and even-up the general course of the labour

market, in the same way as the Bank of England, by its bank rate,

regulates and corrects the flow of business enterprise. When the

extent of the depression is foreseen, the extent of the relief should

also be determined. There ought to be in permanent existence certain

recognised industries of a useful, but uncompetitive character, like,

we will say, afforestation, managed by public departments, and capable

of being expanded or contracted according to the needs of the labour

market, just as easily as you can pull out the stops or work the

pedals of an organ. In this way, you would not eliminate unemployment,

you certainly would not prevent the creation of unemployables; but you

would considerably limit the scale of unemployment, you would reduce

the oscillation of the industrial system, you would increase its

stability, and by every step that you took in that direction you would

free thousands of your fellow-countrymen from undeserved agony and

ruin, and a far greater number from the haunting dread of ruin. That

is the first point--a gap, a hiatus in our social organisation--to

which I direct your attention to-night, and upon which the

intelligence of this country ought to be concentrated.

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