“John Barton was not a man to take counsel with people; nor did he make
many words about his doings. So I can only judge from his way of thinking
and talking in general, never having heard him breathe a syllable
concerning this matter in particular. You see, he were sadly put about
to make great riches and great poverty square with Christ’s Gospel”—Job
paused in order to try and express what was clear enough in his own
mind as to the effect produced on John Barton by the great and mocking
contrasts presented by the varieties of human condition. Before he could
find suitable words to explain his meaning, Mr. Carson spoke.
“You mean he was an Owenite; all for equality and community of goods, and
that kind of absurdity.”
“No, no! John Barton was no fool. No need to tell him that were all
men equal to-night, some would get the start by rising an hour earlier
to-morrow. Nor yet did he care for goods, nor wealth; no man less, so
that he could get daily bread for him and his; but what hurt him sore,
and rankled in him as long as I knew him (and, sir, it rankles in many
a poor man’s heart far more than the want of any creature comforts, and
puts a sting into starvation itself), was that those who wore finer
clothes and ate better food, and had more money in their pockets, kept
him at arm’s length, and cared not whether his heart was sorry or glad;
whether he lived or died—whether he was bound for heaven or hell. It
seemed hard to him that a heap of gold should part him and his brother
so far asunder. For he was a loving man before he grew mad with seeing
such as he was slighted, as if Christ Himself had not been poor. At one
time, I’ve heard him say, he felt kindly towards every man, rich or
poor, because he thought they were all men alike. But latterly he grew
aggravated with the sorrows and suffering that he saw, and which he
thought the masters might help if they would.”
“That’s the notion you’ve all of you got,” said Mr. Carson. “Now, how in
the world can we help it? We cannot regulate the demand for labour. No
man or set of men can do it. It depends on events which God alone can
control. When there is no market for our goods we suffer just as much as
you can do.”
“Not as much, I’m sure, sir; though I’m not given to Political Economy,
I know that much. I’m wanting in learning, I’m aware; but I can use my
eyes. I never see the masters getting thin and haggard for want of food;
I hardly ever see them making much change in their way of living, though
I don’t doubt they’ve got to do it in bad times. But it’s in things
for show they cut short; while for such as me, it’s in things for life
we’ve to stint. For sure, sir, you’ll own it’s come to a hard pass when
a man would give aught in the world for work to keep his children from
starving, and can’t get a bit, if he’s ever so willing to labour. I’m not
up to talking as John Barton would have done, but that’s clear to me at
any rate.”
“My good man, just listen to me. Two men live in a solitude; one produces
loaves of bread, the other coats—or what you will. Now, would it not
be hard if the bread-producer were forced to give bread for the coats,
whether he wanted them or not, in order to furnish employment to the
other: that is the simple form of the case; you’ve only to multiply the
numbers. There will come times of great changes in the occupation of
thousands when improvements in manufactures and machinery are made. It’s
all nonsense talking—it must be so!”
Job Legh pondered a few moments.
“It’s true it was a sore time for the hand-loom weavers when power-looms
came in; them new-fangled things make a man’s life like a lottery; and
yet I’ll never misdoubt that power-looms, and railways, and all such-like
inventions are the gifts of God. I have lived long enough, too, to see
that it is a part of His plan to send suffering to bring out a higher
good; but surely it’s also a part of His plan that so much of the burden
of the suffering as can be should be lightened by those whom it is His
pleasure to make happy and content in their own circumstances. Of course,
it would take a deal more thought and wisdom than me or any other man has
to settle out of hand how this should be done. But I’m clear about this,
when God gives a blessing to be enjoyed, He gives it with a duty to be
done; and the duty of the happy is to help the suffering to bear their
woe.”
“Still facts have proved, and are daily proving, how much better it is
for every man to be independent of help, and self-reliant,” said Mr.
Carson thoughtfully.
“You can never work facts as you would fixed quantities, and say, given
two facts, and the product is so and so. God has given men feelings and
passions which cannot be worked into the problem, because they are for
ever changing and uncertain. God has also made some weak; not in any
one way, but in all. One is weak in body, another in mind, another in
steadiness of purpose, a fourth can’t tell right from wrong, and so on;
or if he can tell the right, he wants strength to hold by it. Now, to my
thinking, them that is strong in any of God’s gifts is meant to help
the weak—be hanged to the facts! I ask your pardon, sir; I can’t rightly
explain the meaning that is in me. I’m like a tap as won’t run, but keeps
letting it out drop by drop, so that you’ve no notion of the force of
what’s within.”
Job looked and felt very sorrowful at the want of power in his words,
while the feeling within him was so strong and clear.
“What you say is very true, no doubt,” replied Mr. Carson; “but how would
you bring it to bear upon the masters’ conduct—on my particular case?”
added he gravely.
“I’m not learned enough to argue. Thoughts come into my head that I’m
sure are as true as Gospel, though maybe they don’t follow each other
like the Q.E.D. of a Proposition. The masters has it on their own
conscience—you have it on yours, sir, to answer for to God whether you’ve
done, and are doing, all in your power to lighten the evils that seem
always to hang on the trades by which you make your fortunes. It’s no
business of mine, thank God. John Barton took the question in hand, and
his answer to it was NO! Then he grew bitter and angry, and mad; and in
his madness he did a great sin, and wrought a great woe; and repented him
with tears of blood, and will go through his penance humbly and meekly in
t’other place, I’ll be bound. I never seed such bitter repentance as his
that last night.”
There was a silence of many minutes. Mr. Carson had covered his face, and
seemed utterly forgetful of their presence; and yet they did not like to
disturb him by rising to leave the room.
At last he said, without meeting their sympathetic eyes:
“Thank you both for coming—and for speaking candidly to me. I fear, Legh,
neither you nor I have convinced each other, as to the power, or want of
power, in the masters to remedy the evils the men complain of.”
“I’m loth to vex you, sir, just now; but it was not the want of power
I was talking on; what we all feel sharpest is the want of inclination
to try and help the evils which come like blights at times over the
manufacturing places, while we see the masters can stop work and not
suffer. If we saw the masters try for our sakes to find a remedy—even if
they were long about it—even if they could find no help, and at the end
of all could only say, ‘Poor fellows, our hearts are sore for ye; we’ve
done all we could, and can’t find a cure’—we’d bear up like men through
bad times. No one knows till they have tried what power of bearing lies
in them, if once they believe that men are caring for their sorrows and
will help if they can. If fellow-creatures can give nought but tears and
brave words, we take our trials straight from God, and we know enough of
His love to put ourselves blind into His hands. You say our talk has done
no good. I say it has. I see the view you take of things from the place
where you stand. I can remember that when the time comes for judging you;
I shan’t think any longer, does he act right on my views of a thing, but
does he act right on his own. It has done me good in that way. I’m an old
man, and may never see you again; but I’ll pray for you, and think on
you and your trials, both of your great wealth, and of your son’s cruel
death, many and many a day to come; and I’ll ask God to bless you both
now and for evermore. Amen. Farewell!”
Jem had maintained a manly and dignified reserve ever since he had made
his open statement of all he knew. Now both the men rose, and bowed
low, looking at Mr. Carson with the deep human interest they could not
fail to take in one who had endured and forgiven a deep injury; and who
struggled hard, as it was evident he did, to bear up like a man under his
affliction.
He bowed low in return to them. Then he suddenly came forward and shook
them by the hand; and thus, without a word more, they parted.
There are stages in the contemplation and endurance of great sorrow which
endow men with the same earnestness and clearness of thought that in some
of old took the form of Prophecy. To those who have large capability of
loving and suffering, united with great power of firm endurance, there
comes a time in their woe when they are lifted out of the contemplation
of their individual case into a searching inquiry into the nature of
their calamity, and the remedy (if remedy there be) which may prevent its
recurrence to others as well as to themselves.
Hence the beautiful, noble efforts which are from time to time brought
to light, as being continuously made by those who have once hung on the
cross of agony, in order that others may not suffer as they have done;
one of the grandest ends which sorrow can accomplish; the sufferer
wrestling with God’s messenger until a blessing is left behind, not for
one alone but for generations.
It took time before the stern nature of Mr. Carson was compelled to
the recognition of this secret of comfort, and that same sternness
prevented his reaping any benefit in public estimation from the actions
he performed; for the character is more easily changed than the habits
and manners originally formed by that character, and to his dying day
Mr. Carson was considered hard and cold by those who only casually saw
him, or superficially knew him. But those who were admitted into his
confidence were aware that the wish that lay nearest to his heart was
that none might suffer from the cause from which he had suffered; that
a perfect understanding, and complete confidence and love, might exist
between masters and men; that the truth might be recognised that the
interests of one were the interests of all, and as such required the
consideration and deliberation of all, that hence it was most desirable
to have educated workers, capable of judging, not mere machines of
ignorant men; and to have them bound to their employers by the ties of
respect and affection, not by mere money bargains alone; in short, to
acknowledge the Spirit of Christ as the regulating law between both
parties.
Many of the improvements now in practice in the system of employment
in Manchester owe their origin to short earnest sentences spoken by
Mr. Carson. Many and many yet to be carried into execution take their
birth from that stern, thoughtful mind which submitted to be taught by
suffering.
A Manchester Strike in the “Hungry Forties”