HENSLOW SPEAKS OUT
The bomb was thrown. Some ten thousand people crowded together in the
market-place at Medchester, under what seemed to be one huge canopy of
dripping umbrellas, heard for the first time for many years a bold and
vigorous attack upon the principles which had come to be considered a
part of the commercial ritual of the country. Henslow made the best of
a great opportunity. He spoke temperately, but without hesitation, and
concluded with a biting and powerful onslaught upon that class of
Englishmen who wilfully closed their eyes to the prevailing industrial
depression, and endeavoured to lure themselves and others into a sense
of false security as to the well-being of the country by means of
illusive statistics. In his appreciation of dramatic effect, and the
small means by which an audience can be touched, Henslow was a past
master. Early in his speech he had waved aside the umbrella which a
supporter was holding over him, and regardless of the rain, he stood out
in the full glare of the reflected gaslight, a ponderous, powerful
figure.
"No one can accuse me," he cried, "of being a pessimist. Throughout my
life I have striven personally, and politically, to look upon the
brightest side of things. But I count it a crime to shut one's eyes to
the cloud in the sky, even though it be no larger than a man's hand.
Years ago that cloud was there for those who would to see. To-day it
looms over us, a black and threatening peril, and those who,
ostrich-like, still hide their heads in the sand, are the men upon whose
consciences must rest in the future the responsibility for those evil
things which are even now upon us. Theories are evil things, but when
theory and fact are at variance, give me fact. Theoretically Free Trade
should--I admit it--make us the most prosperous nation in the world. As
a matter of fact, never since this country commenced to make history has
our commercial supremacy been in so rotten and insecure a position.
There isn't a flourishing industry in the country, save those which
provide the munitions of war, and their prosperity is a spasmodic, and I
might almost add, an undesirable thing. Now, I am dealing with facts
to-night, not theories, and I am going to quote certain unassailable
truths, and I am going to give you the immediate causes for them. The
furniture and joinery trade of England is bad. There are thousands of
good hands out of employment. They are out of work because the
manufacturer has few or no orders. I want the immediate cause for that,
and I go to the manufacturer. I ask him why he has no orders. He tells
me, because every steamer from America is bringing huge consignments of
ready-made office and general furniture, at such prices or such quality
that the English shopkeepers prefer to stock them. Consequently trade
is bad with him, and he cannot find employment for his men. I find
here in Medchester the boot and shoe trade in which you are concerned
bad. There are thousands of you who are willing to work who are out of
employment. I go to the manufacturer, and I say to him, 'Why don't you
find employment for your hands?' 'For two reasons,' he answers. 'First,
because I have lost my Colonial and some of my home trade through
American competition, and secondly, because of the universally depressed
condition of every kindred trade throughout the country, which keeps
people poor and prevents their having money to spend.' Just now I am not
considering the question of why the American can send salable boots and
shoes into this country, although the reasons are fairly obvious. They
have nothing to do with my point, however. We are dealing to-night with
immediate causes!
"And now as to that depression throughout the country which keeps people
poor, as the boot manufacturer puts it, and prevents their having money
to spend. I am going to take several trades one by one, and ascertain
the immediate cause of their depression--"
He had hold of his audience, and he made good use of his advantage. He
quoted statistics, showing the decrease of exports and relative increase
of imports. How could we hope to retain our accumulated wealth under
such conditions?--and finally he abandoned theorizing and argument, and
boldly declared his position.
"I will tell you," he concluded, "what practical means I intend to bring
to bear upon the situation. I base my projected action upon this
truism, which is indeed the very kernel of my creed. I say that every
man willing and able to work should have work, and I say that it is the
duty of legislators to see that he has it. To-day there are one hundred
thousand men and women hanging about our streets deteriorating morally
and physically through the impossibility of following their trade. I
say that it is time for legislators to inquire into the cause of this,
and to remedy it. So I propose to move in the House of Commons, should
your votes enable me to find myself there, that a Royal Commission be
immediately appointed to deal with this matter. And I propose,
further, to insist that this Commission be composed of manufacturers and
business men, and that we dispense with all figure-heads, and I can
promise you this, that the first question which shall engage the
attention of these men shall be an immediate revision of our tariffs.
We won't have men with theories which work out beautifully on paper, and
bring a great country into the throes of commercial ruin. We won't have
men who think that the laws their fathers made are good enough for them,
and that all change is dangerous, because Englishmen are sure to fight
their way through in the long run--a form of commercial Jingoism to
which I fear we are peculiarly prone. We don't want scholars or
statisticians. We want a commission of plain business men, and I
promise you that if we get them, there shall be presented to Parliament
before I meet you again practical measures which I honestly and firmly
believe will start a wave of commercial prosperity throughout the
country such as the oldest amongst you cannot remember. We have the
craftsmen, the capital, and the brains--all that we need is legislation
adapted to the hour and not the last century, and we can hold our own
yet in the face of the world."
* * * * *
Afterwards, at the political club and at the committee-room, there was
much excited conversation concerning the effect of Henslow's bold
declaration. The general impression was, this election was now assured.
A shouting multitude followed him to his hotel, popular Sentiment was
touched, and even those who had been facing the difficulty of life with
a sort of dogged despair for years were raised into enthusiasm. His
words begat hope.
In the committee-room there was much excitement and a good deal of
speculation. Every one realized that the full effect of this daring
plunge could not be properly gauged until after it had stood the test of
print. But on the whole comment was strikingly optimistic. Brooks for
some time was absent. In the corridor he had come face to face with
Mary Scott. Her eyes flashed with pleasure at the sight of him, and she
held out her hand frankly.
"You heard it all?" he asked, eagerly.
"Yes--every word. Tell me, you understand these things so much better
than I do. Is this an election dodge, or--is he in earnest? Was he
speaking the truth?
"The honest truth, I believe," he answered, leading her a little away
from the crowd of people. "He is of course pressing this matter home
for votes, but he is very much in earnest himself about it."
"And you think that he is on the right track?"
"I really believe so," he answered. "In fact I am strongly in favour of
making experiments in the direction he spoke of. By the bye, Miss
Scott, I have something to tell you. You remember telling me about Lord
Arranmore and his refusal to subscribe to the Unemployed Fund?"
"Yes!"
"He has been approached again--the facts have been more fully made
known to him, and he has sent a cheque for one thousand pounds."
She received the news with a coldness which he found surprising.
"I think I can guess," she said, quietly, "who the second applicant was."
"I went to see him myself," he admitted.
"You must be very eloquent," she remarked, with a smile which he could
not quite understand. "A thousand pounds is a great deal of money."
"It is nothing to Lord Arranmore," he answered.
"Less than nothing," she admitted, readily. "I would rather that he had
stopped in the street and given half-a-crown to a hungry child."
"Still--it is a magnificent gift," he declared. "We can open all our
relief stations again. I believe that you are a little prejudiced
against Lord Arranmore."
"I?" She shrugged her shoulders. "How should I be? I have never spoken
a word to him in my life. But I think that he has a hard, cynical face,
and a hateful expression."
Brooks disagreed with her frankly.
"He seems to me," he declared, "like a man who has had a pretty rough
time, and I believe he had in his younger days, but I do not believe
that he is really either hard or cynical. He has some odd views as
regards charity, but upon my word they are logical enough."
She smiled.
"Well, we'll not disagree about him," she declared. "I wonder how long
my uncle means to be."
"Shall I find out?" he asked.
"Would it be troubling you? He is so excited that I dare say he has
forgotten all about me."
Which was precisely what he had done. Brooks found him the centre of
an animated little group, with a freshly-lit cigar in his mouth, and
every appearance of having settled down to spend the night. He was
almost annoyed when Brooks reminded him of his niece.
"God bless my soul, I forgot all about Mary," he exclaimed with
vexation. "She must go and sit somewhere. I shan't be ready yet.
Henslow wants us to go down to the Bell, and have a bit of supper."
"In that case," Brooks said, "you had better allow me to take Miss Scott
home, and I will come then to you."
"Capital, if you really don't mind," Mr. Bullsom declared. "Put her in
a cab. Don't let her be a bother to you."
Brooks found her reluctant to take him away, but he pleaded a headache,
and assured her that his work for the night was over. Outside he led
her away from the centre of the town to a quiet walk heading to the
suburb where she lived. Here the streets seemed strangely silent, and
Brooks walked hat in hand, heedless of the rain which was still
sprinkling. "Oh, this is good," he murmured. "How one wearies of these
crowds."
"All the same," she answered, smiling, "I think that your place just now
is amongst them, and I shall not let you take me further than the top of
the hill."
Brooks looked down at her and laughed.
"What a very determined person you are," he said. "I will take you to
the top of the hill--and then we will see."