YOUNG ENGLAND.
As soon as the dissolution of Parliament was declared, more than the
ordinary activity was displayed, and everywhere for a few days the usual
tactics were observed. The two “great parties,” as they were called,
sent representatives to the various towns, and these issued their
addresses, put in various forms of expression, but all meaning the same
thing: “Send me. I am for progress. Your interests will be supported,
and the Millennium will come, if only you do your duty and plump for
me;” or, “Send me. I am a patriot of the true colour, and all that is
most desirable for the Empire will be secured, with peace and
prosperity, if you obey your consciences and plump for me.”
The immediate occasion of the dissolution was that Parliament was not
sufficiently united in regard to the age at which children should be
allowed to leave school and commence work. The Government and its
supporters said thirteen, the Opposition said fourteen, and got the
larger number of votes.
In almost all the Parliamentary boroughs the work of the wire-pullers in
London, who tried to dictate to the voters as to the men who were to be
their representatives, was in vain. The towns had already chosen their
men. Almost without exception they were local men, well known to the
people, among whom they bore unblemished characters, and by whom they
were pronounced men of knowledge and ability. In the country, in more
than a few cases, the squire was the favourite candidate because he was
the squire; but the rule everywhere was not for the man to choose the
people, but the people to choose the man. For once in the history of
England the man did not solicit the suffrages of the voters, but they
requested him to allow them to place him in Westminster, in order that
he might serve them.
It was agreed that there should be no canvassing, and there was
therefore less need than usual of workers and conveyances and all the
old-fashioned methods of impelling men to the poll.
But there was an organisation, alert and active, which served the good
cause in a way so effective as to astonish the world. It was the society
of the Young Crusaders who came forward at this crisis and showed their
power, not only in their vast numbers, but in their complete discipline.
They took the country by storm. To every political meeting they sent a
representative who could speak, and who asked to be allowed to place the
wishes of the voters of the future before the voters of to-day. “The
laws you make now,” said they, “will affect us much more than they will
you. Ought we not, therefore, to have a voice in the matter?” And the
voice they raised moved men, and made them stand to their principles,
and gave them courage for the conflict.
They succeeded in getting their colours adopted—“the red, white and blue
of Old England: the red for Battle, the white for Purity, and the blue
for Temperance.” The Crusaders were themselves seen everywhere during
the fray; their fresh young voices cheered and sang; they cried “Shame!”
whenever unfairness, or slander, or untruthfulness characterised a
speech, and shouted God speed when they knew and honoured the speaker.
It was a great change. For many years women had taken some part in the
political battles that had been fought; they had addressed meetings, and
canvassed householders, and driven in their carriages to the scene of
action; but it was a new thing for the lads to take part in an election.
They were at present without votes, but they were learning the duties of
citizens as thoroughly as they were learning their trades, and the real
questions that were at issue were questions in regard to which they were
often less ignorant than their fathers, because they had the advantage
of good, clear-headed, and impartial teachers.
Of course, many of the newspapers published satirical articles every
day. Were the men of England so fallen, so lost to the sense of their
own manliness, as to be dictated to by a lot of little Sunday-school
boys? The producers of caricature and illustrators of all the comic
papers had a fine time, _Christian Society_ and other journals of a
similar type were more scurrilous than ever, and there was no end to the
sneers at religion and religionists which were produced.
But, for the most part, those whom they were intended to hurt and
irritate were too busy to take any notice of them, and so went calmly on
their way. The constituencies were most earnestly appealed to not to
send men who were not altogether, as to their private life and
character, the upholders of purity, honesty, and uprightness. And the
greater number of the constituencies responded. A man might be rich, but
if he paid his workmen poorly it would be vain for him to seek the
suffrages of the people. Or he might be clever, and be able to talk
persuasively; but unless his life had been speaking in his favour he
need not hope to represent his fellow-men in Parliament. For there was a
new patriotism for the new times—a patriotism which placed in the
forefront of its political battle a banner, with the old device:
“Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin is a reproach to any people.”
There were other banners with other legends, but they meant much the
same thing—“No More Working for Starvation Wages,” “No More Unemployed,”
“Send Clean Men to Make Clean Cities,” “For the Women and the Children’s
Sake,” “No More Brute Force,” “A True Man for True Men.”
Arthur Knight declined the invitations of several cities to represent
them. He thought he could serve his country better outside than inside
of Parliament; and he was probably right, for it was not in him to be in
any sense a political man. But it needs no saying that he was intensely
interested in regard to this election.
And he was one of the few men who do not mind being laughed at. He
laughed with the laughers when in the daily papers there were articles
intended to be funny with such headings as “A Government of
Grandmothers,” or “Old Maids in Office,” or “The Childishness of
Chivalry.”
Among the meetings was one that was addressed by a young Crusader
already known to us.
“Let young Mr. Stapleton talk to us,” shouted a workman, and the
suggestion was so heartily applauded that the lad was called upon by the
Chairman to say a few words.
He was very nervous, as a boy in such a position ought to be; but his
voice was clear and distinct, and it rang through the meeting, touching
all hearts.
“One of the rules of our order is that of obedience,” said Ernest, “and
since I am asked to try to speak I must do the best I can, only begging
you to be patient with me, since I am but a boy. The Young Crusaders are
all taking part in this election, because we believe that no previous
Parliament has had such grave issues depending upon it as this which is
now being elected. And we are encouraged, as all the world must be, by
the knowledge that, for the first time, Christian men of all
denominations occupy the same platform. The chosen of the Church will
surely be the chosen of the people. And therefore we pray you to choose
wisely. You are preparing an inheritance for us; let it be one that
shall not bring us shame. We ask of our leaders that they will prove
their power by making England better. We love our country, and, if
necessary, we will fight for her; but we want a Hercules to clean out
all the dark places and lead the people into the light. Help us, for we
are not all strong, by removing from us the temptations which might
cause us to fall. Send men to Parliament everywhere who will care more
for the good name of England and the future well-being of her sons than
for their own riches. You are our fathers. Oh! be great that we may be
proud of you and copy you. Let the cause you espouse be the people’s
cause, and especially the cause of the young people. Is it not more
important for you to secure us than wealth? Keep us on your side, and
make for us only such laws as shall tend for our good. And in return we
will honour you, and work for you, and love you. But my time to talk is
not yet come, and so I will cease trying, only I ask you to remember the
boys when you are making up your next legislature.”
The young orator had made some long halts between his sentences, and
sometimes it had seemed as if he were reciting from some book which he
had studied; but on the whole he made an excellent impression.
“There’s a good time coming when a youngster in a jacket can talk like
that,” said a man.
“Yes,” replied another with a sigh; “the next generation will be better
than we are.”
“If we do our duty by them! We were left too much to ourselves, you
know. Our grandfathers believed in the stick, and had their boys well in
hand. Our fathers went too much the other way, and didn’t care what
became of us, so long as we got out of their way. But our boys don’t
want to be let alone; they want to be looked after and helped; and if we
do it there will be a fine time to follow ours. I wish I could live to
see it.”
“Well, anyway, we will put our man in, for he is one of the right sort.”
“Oh, we shall do that, sure enough.”
And so they did.
There was no more bitter struggle anywhere than at Scourby, where Mr.
Whitwell and his friends had resolved upon wresting the seat from Mr.
Richard Lavender, though there were several other places in which the
battle was fought on the same lines.
In Scourby, since the churches had decided to unite in Christian and
philanthropic endeavour of all kinds, there had been a marked change.
Every building consecrated to the worship of God had been a centre round
which all sorts of plans for ameliorating the condition of the poor had
been tried. One man, at his own expense, had rented a couple of
cottages, and there provided occupations of different kinds for those
who were out of work. Another cottage had been taken by a lady, who kept
it for the use of mothers who might come there to be helped in their
cooking, sewing, or anything else that they had in hand. The committee
of Helpfulness had been so successful that the whole town had been
canvassed, and there was no one in the place who had been overlooked or
disregarded. And, best of all, the children were under control in their
times of play as well as during their school hours. And all this told
upon the working men, on whose votes the election depended; so that,
although it could not even yet be said that they could be got to flock
into the different places of worship, they did not all flock to
public-houses; and they were permeated with the idea that their best
friends and staunchest helpers and supporters were Christians.
It was strange that they had ever believed otherwise; but many of them
had, and the fact that at last they were being convinced of the truth
was an unspeakable gain.
There were some lively scenes in Scourby. Mr. Richard Lavender was every
evening in some public-house or other, drinking with the voters, smoking
with them, and promising them everything which they liked to ask. But
the public-house business was not what it used to be. There were so many
other comfortable meeting-places for men in those days, and so many men
meant business of another kind, that the number of votes secured over
the pot and the glass were fewer than ever before.
Still, there were enough of Lavender’s supporters to have interfered
with the right of free speech if the populace had permitted it. There
was one public meeting called in support of Mr. Whitwell which was the
scene of a disturbance. Men had been primed with beer, and sent on
purpose to disturb the proceedings, though as soon as Mr. Whitwell
appeared a most enthusiastic welcome was accorded him, and the cheers
quite drowned the hootings and the groans. But when the first speaker
commenced it was found that interruptions were to be the order of the
day; and then it was proved that an indignant working man cannot be
insulted with impunity. There were no cries of “Turn him out!” but
whenever in the audience a man endeavoured to prevent a speaker from
being heard, two men quietly seized him, and three or four others
surrounded him, and he was ejected with very little ceremony. Still,
even that was so unpleasant that Mr. Whitwell decided that his election
should not be won by talk at public meetings, and his spoken address was
a very short one.
“At former political meetings,” he said, “the interrupters have been
lads and young men. Gentlemen, all is well now, for the _youth of
England is with us_. (Cries of “Hurrah!” “Thank God!” and “Don’t be too
sure of that!”) I cannot be too sure! I know. The Coming Race will set
many wrong things right. As for me, I am here not by my own wish, but
yours. Unless you think I am able to carry out your wishes you will not
send me to Westminster as your representative. You know me, for my life
has been before you many years. I do not believe that all men can be
equal; but I believe that no man ought to be poor. I do not think that
my farm ought to be cut up into allotments; but I think that every man
who wants a bit of ground for his own cultivation ought to be able to
hire or purchase it on easy terms, and that the men whom I employ should
get a fair share of the increase. I do not think that labour ought to
tyrannise over capital, or capital over labour, for neither can do
without the other; but I think that capital is for the many rather than
the few. I am sure that every man who is willing to work ought to have
work to do, and that his wages should be sufficient to keep in comfort.
But I also believe that every man ought to work; and if he is lazy, and
will not, then he should be starved until he does. I believe that it is
the duty, as it ought to be pleasure, of every father of a family to
work for his wife and children, and that he should be compelled to do
it. I believe that every brutal husband or father should be dealt with
according to the old law—‘With the measure ye mete, it shall be measured
to you again,’ and that any selfish drunkard who ill-treats a woman or a
child should be made to feel the same pain he has inflicted, to hunger
if he has made another hunger, and to be beaten if he has beaten
another.” Here there was an interruption, and Mr. Whitwell said
distinctly, “Yes, I would have the whip invariably punish cruelty.” Some
one cried, “It unmans a man to thrash him!” and the speaker replied,
“Any man who strikes a woman or a child is unmanned already; he is not a
man, but a coward.” “But,” he continued, “I would make it penal for a
landlord to receive rent for an insanitary house, or for a master to
compel his hands to work in unhealthy conditions; and I would have every
man, woman, and child enjoy some leisure as well as work, some pleasure
as well as duty. And, gentlemen, if a rich English merchant sends out an
unseaworthy ship, or a cargo deliberately intended to ruin a race of
savages, I would have him imprisoned. If a magistrate should take the
part of the rich against the poor, I would have him deposed. In a word,
what I long for, and will do my best to promote, is justice! Down with
hypocrisy, whatever garb it wears! Let us have real men, for the times
demand them. I do not say to you that I am one of these; I only say that
I will try to be; and, if I cannot hasten on the right, at least I will
not hinder it. Gentlemen, I shall say no more at any other time or in
any other place during this contest. The issue shall be as you desire!”
Dr. Stapleton and Mr. Dallington walked away from the meeting together.
“The streets are much more quiet than at the last election,” remarked
John; “but that is because the public-houses are now closed at ten, and
night is not made hideous by the shouts of half-drunken men and women.”
“And the election will be as we wish it, for the same reason,” said the
Doctor. “I am not as advanced as some people in regard to total
abstinence, you know; but this Local Option arrangement is splendid.”
“Ah! there has been a vote to-day, has there not, to decide whether the
public-houses shall be open or closed on the day of the election?”
“Yes; and it is decided that they are to be closed.”
“Really! The majority has it?”
“Yes; and a very respectable majority it is. The figures were handed to
me as I left the hall. It was not a large vote—a good many abstained
from recording their wishes; but there is no mistake as to the desires
of the community that this issue shall not be befogged by drink.”
“I am exceedingly glad to hear it. Then there is not a shade of doubt
but that our man will win?”
“Not a shade!”