CANCER SPOTS IN METROPOLITAN LIFE.

Some months ago I wrote of a phase of wretchedness in our great

cities, which I designated "Uninvited Poverty." I confined myself to

the examination of those who may be properly designated the helpless

victims of adverse fate. There are other phases of misery, however,

which result from sin, on the part of the immediate sufferers. In my

former paper I spoke of suffering where the wretchedness sprang from

sin at the head of the social fountain. But I now wish to notice

especially misery, degradation, and moral eclipse, resulting directly

from giant evils, which are tolerated in all our large cities, though

known to every thoughtful person, from judge to artisan, from

clergyman to sexton, from editor to reporter, from wealthy matron to

the humble sewing woman. Every earnest thinker knows that there are

evils feeding the furnaces of physical, mental, and moral destruction;

that there are flourishing nurseries, common schools, and universities

of crime, degradation, and death. Yet the great churches slumber on,

their melodious chimes call the self-satisfied to cushioned seats

where are heard expositions of ancient lore and legends of a vanished

past, with incidental and general reference to the conditions of

to-day, enabling the children of wealth, who vainly imagine they are

the disciples of Jesus, to spend a comfortable hour and perchance

contribute to carrying the Gospel to some nature-favored heathen land,

never as yet cursed by rum and other evils which flourish with

tropical luxuriance in all civilized countries, and which ever follow

with blighting, corroding, and life-destroying influence in the wake

of our boasted modern civilization. Two great evils confront every

thoughtful American citizen to-day. One the _oppression of the poor

and the unfortunate_; the other, _the omnipresent cancer spots in

metropolitan life_, the infection of which is reaching the highest

circles of Boulevard society and penetrating the cellars of the

tenement houses. Recently a little work has been published which deals

chiefly with what we may term the "cancer spots of social life" in one

of America's great cities.[5] It is prepared by an earnest Christian

gentleman, who has had a committee of conscientious men and women

investigating the actual conditions in the social cellar of Chicago.

The author states that his purpose is not to show that Chicago is an

exception to the general rule in regard to poverty, crime, or

degradation. He merely desires to indicate deplorable facts as they

exist in this great city to show how dire destitution is working havoc

with the children of men almost under the shadow of the palaces of

those who profess to be Christians. He cites as an illustration of the

extreme poverty in Chicago the fact that when the compulsory education

law went into effect, the inspectors found in the squalid region, a

great number of children so destitute, that they were absolutely unfit

to attend school; decency forbidding that the sexes in _far more than

semi-nude condition should mingle in the school-rooms_, and although a

number of noble-hearted ladies banded together and decently clothed

_three hundred of these almost naked boys and girls_, they were

compelled to admit the humiliating fact that they had only reached the

outskirts, while the great mass of poverty had not been touched. A

faint idea of the extent of poverty in this one city may be gained

from the following facts from the record of one of the city police

stations.

[5] Chicago's Dark Places.

On one night last February, _one hundred and twenty-four_ destitute

homeless men begged for shelter in the cells; of this number

_sixty-eight were native born Americans_. The station was so crowded,

that in _one cell, eight by nine and a half feet, fourteen men passed

the night_, some standing a part of the night, while others lay packed

like sardines. After a time, those on the floor exchanged places with

the poor creatures who had been standing. The following incident

related is as typical as it is pathetic: An old man, cold, homeless,

destitute, not knowing where to lay his head, was seen to take a

shovel and deliberately break a window in a store opposite a police

station. He was immediately arrested. "What did you do that for?"

demanded the officer. "'Cos I was hungry and cold and knew if you got

me I could have food and shelter." He was taken care of _after_ he had

broken the law. There is something radically wrong with social

conditions which compel men who find every avenue from exposure and

starvation closed, to become lawbreakers in order to live. Some months

ago, one of the Chicago dailies instituted an inquiry to find out as

nearly as possible the number of men out of work in that city; the

returns gave a total of 40,000 adults who had nothing to do. In

connection with this fact I quote from the author of "Chicago's Dark

Places":--

At a meeting of the Trades Association a motion was made to the

effect that the Association request the mayor of the city and the

director of the World's Fair to issue a proclamation declaring

that the city was flooded with idle men, and warning the

unemployed of other cities and districts not to come here as

there was not work for them.

The following morning a reporter waited upon the mayor and asked

him what he would do if the resolution were presented to him. His

immediate reply was to the effect that he would gladly issue such

a proclamation, especially mentioning the fact that there were

20,000 unemployed men in the city already.

Now look at the two statements, and you see the awfulness of the

fact, no matter which estimate is accepted as correct. Suppose

you strike a balance between the two (although the Trades

Association inclines to believe the _Globe's_ figures are the

more accurate), and you have the appalling assurance that 30,000

unemployed men are wandering through the streets of this city

seeking work. Even granted that the mayor's conservative estimate

is most correct, the fearful fact still remains that our peace is

menaced by twenty thousand men who have not the necessary work to

earn their daily bread.

These facts most conclusively refute the statements too often

made that "men won't work," and "there's work enough if men are

only willing to do it." Such is not the truth. I can find you

many instances where good, steady workmen have offered to the

foremen of certain establishments $10, $25, and even the whole of

the first month's wages if they would find them employment.

One laboring man being interrogated by one of the commissioners who

gathered the facts for the author of this work, replied to the

question, "What can you say for those who won't work, who are commonly

called the 'bums of society'?" in such a thoughtful and suggestive way

that I give his words verbatim.

"Let me ask, What is a bum? As a rule, you will find him to be a

creature degraded by circumstances and evil conditions. Let me

illustrate. A man loses his job by sickness or some other

unavoidable cause. He seeks work, and I have shown you how

difficult it is to find it. He fails time and time again. Is

there any wonder that he grows discouraged, and that, picking up

his meals at the free lunch counter, sleeping in the wretched

lodging houses, associating with the filthy and degraded, he,

step by step, drifts further away from the habits of integrity

and industry that used to be a part of himself? He sinks lower

and lower until, overcome by circumstances, he is at the bottom

of the social ladder,--at once a menace and a disgrace to the

city. Instead of blaming and condemning him, poor fellow, we

should look at the circumstances that made him what he is, and

endeavor to remedy them."

It is not, however, with the uninvited poverty which flourishes in

every great city of America that the work chiefly deals. It paints

most thrillingly the darker and more terrible side of social

conditions; where crime and debauchery mingle with poverty; where

every breath of air is heavy with moral contagion. I have only space

to notice briefly two of the great evils described,--the saloon and

the disreputable concert halls, as these seem to me the greatest

curses touched upon.

The Arena, Volume 4, No. 24, November, 1891 · 第 43 / 50 题