OF THE EMPLOYMENTS OF THE PEOPLE, AND ASPECTS OF DAILY LIFE.
I have spoken quite at length of the English Barbarians as
_traders_--these form a large portion of the whole. Below these are the
lowest caste, workers, beggars, and thieves. The tillers of the land
make a great part of the workers; then those who toil in the mines,
shops, and great factories; lastly, mere day-labourers of all sorts.
The tillers of land are wretchedly poor. In the years of their strength
they just keep from starvation, living in hovels hardly fit for a
brute, and not so good as the _Master's_ dog-kennel. When strength goes
they become idle, paupers, and die in the poor-house [do-zen-di].
The mine-workers delve in the dark bowels of the earth for coal, iron,
copper, tin, and other minerals. No beast works in more dirt, nor under
more brutal circumstances. Out of the light of day, far below, in
pitchy blackness, illumined only by the faint light of a lamp fastened
to his head, the _serf_ toils--exposed to death from suffocation, by
the falling-in of earth, from great outbursts of water, from accidents
of many kinds, and from the fearful _explosions_! He gets more
money--but in the light of day, when he has cleansed himself from some
of his weight of filth, the gin and beer shop give him the readiest and
only resource! The lives of these toilers and of their families are
scarcely imaginable. An explosion sometimes destroys nearly a whole
village!
The vast numbers, men, women, and children, who labour in shops and
factories of all kinds, present a very uniform appearance of misery
and degradation. They swarm in the great towns, amid the _débris_
[kon] of coal and iron works, and in the _purlieus_ of the places of
labour--dirty, noisome, barbarous. No High-Caste, unless by mistake,
ever goes among them; and even the lower avoid them. Worked by their
task-masters all the day, from early morning till late at night, for
such pittance as may keep them _at work_, what can be expected? Young
girls and lads work together; there is no decency (there hardly can
be), connections are formed, children come; but who is to care _for
them_? What can describe truly the actual state of things?
When work is over, weary, without respect from others, and feeling
none, therefore, for themselves; no decent home, wife and children
draggled and wretched like themselves, where else to go but to the warm
and brilliant-lighted drink-places? Here is warmth, shelter, comforting
drink. Is it surprising that these, _the only homes_, take nearly all
earnings; and that the small remainder gives to the bare rooms, ragged
garments, and squalid wives and children, that aspect of misery and
brutishness? Whole quarters of towns are given up to this degradation.
The portals of Temples, the porticoes of grand edifices, the very steps
of public charities, are crowded with these victims of ignorance
and selfishness--a selfishness peculiar to the cold nature of these
Barbarians, and which receives its finest and most exquisite polish
among the High-Caste. I speak of the steps of Charity Halls, where
relief is supposed to be given to the starving; but on the very steps
misery may find its last, wretched repose.
It seems to be accepted as _inherent in the nature_ of things that this
abounding debasement and wretchedness, wherein _crime_ breeds by an
inexorable law, _must be_. The crime must be watched and kept within
bounds, and guards must carefully repress the disorders of this foul
_shame_, but the thing itself is inherent and ineradicable. It may be
so to the barbaric nature.
The ordinary labourers of all descriptions, in the street, in the
shipping-docks, in waiting upon the artificers, in the digging,
toiling, manual employments, differ not much from their _congeners_
[re-la-tsi] in the factories and mines. Their habits are the same. All
are alike really _serfs_, taking no notice of the refinements and the
enjoyments of the higher-castes, and being everywhere rigidly avoided
by them. On a sunny day, if you walk in a public garden, you will see
some of these miserable beings lying about on the grass, stretched
out in the sun, asleep. By no chance will they occupy any place which
is usually used by the upper castes, nor will any of these, by any
chance (short of dire need), ever speak to or notice one of these low
creatures. Sometimes an open green space will present an appearance
like a battle-field after a combat. These _serfs_ scattered around,
here one or two perfectly still, there some just turning or raised
upon elbow; sometimes an old crone resting upon a recumbent man; most,
perfectly still and flat, give an aspect of dead and dying strewn over
the field. Occasionally men and women will be cuddled close together
for warmth; in truth, this grassy, sunny couch, is to them a luxury.
The aspect of these day-labourers as they lounge, or slouch [gr-utn]
idly about the streets, is repulsive and curious. They seem unable
to stand up. Whether from the nature of their toil, or from mere
shiftlessness, I know not. But they never do stand erect, and slouch
along from one beer-shop corner to another, till they can _lean_ or
_lie down_. They cluster about the corners by beer and gin shops,
rarely molesting any one, but frequently noisy and quarrelsome among
themselves. They carry their strong passions and strong drink to their
wretched haunts where crime and violence are rife. Women and children
of this class are also at these drinking places, and give a feature to
the degradation of unusual repulsiveness. These beer and gin shops, in
low quarters of a town, are prolific of riot and crime, but abounding
everywhere, in parts more decent, the police [ta-pki] are forced to
be more watchful. A striking illustration of the callousness of the
High-Caste is, that they derive their own revenues largely from this
very degradation of the _serfs_--for an immense tax is paid by them
upon the beer and gin which they consume--and this tax enures wholly to
the benefit of the High-Caste. In the Law-making _House_, therefore,
whenever some good man wishes to moderate this excessive evil of drink
and drunkenness; pointing out how _Crime_ takes root and flourishes,
and vice spreads from these drinking-places; how the whole community
suffers; he is laughed at and pointed at, and made odious to these
miserable creatures, as one who would deprive the _poor man_ of his
Beer! In this connection of the serf with the rich man's revenue, it
is convenient to say "_the poor man_;" on ordinary occasions, the
"_drunken beast_," or the "_brute_," would be more likely.
There are parts of great towns where decent people never go unless by
sheer need, and where in the night they would not go unless accompanied
by a policeman. Nothing can describe the aspect of the dark courts and
streets, of the mean and filthy buildings, shops, and dens! Nastiness,
foul smells, dirty shambles and garbage; doors and windows smashed and
stuffed with rags; gutters festering with impurities; and the human
vermin swarming like maggots in rotten flesh! Upon _this_ foundation
the palaces of the rich and the vast stone Temples rest; one wonders
that they do not sink into it.
It is a great boast of the English Barbarians that "a slave cannot
breathe in England." At first, when I heard this, I supposed that it
meant that he would die under the conditions of life awaiting him--he
would not be able to _breathe_--and therefore slaves were unable to
live in the land. But the boast merely means that it is not permitted
to add _black_ slaves from abroad; they cannot live in England; nor
do I think they could. I do not comprehend the boast, unless on the
ground that it would be an expensive as well as useless cruelty to land
even _blacks_, merely to have the trouble and cost of burying their
carcases.
I have called these low-castes _Serfs_, disregarding the barbarian
_fiction_ which calls them _free_. Not long since they were slaves
under precise law; now they are so by universal custom. When they were
legal _slaves_ they had some care and protection; there was _a tie_
existing between master and servant; hearty service and affectionate
concern rendered the relation not merely supportable, but positively
advantageous. The tie is severed; there is neither hearty service nor
affectionate concern. The master possesses everything as before, but he
is no longer _obliged_ to maintain his labourers. These are numerous;
they must work or starve. Whilst they _work_ they get enough perhaps
to live; no longer able to work, mere pauper-life in poorhouses and
the pauper's grave await them. Nor do the masters even pay for these;
they have cunningly contrived to have the expense borne by all who have
anything to be taxed. Thus the severance of the ancient tie has only
enriched the High-Castes and freed them from all obligation to care for
the labourer, and sunk him into a condition of hopeless and debasing
poverty. The freedom is all on the strong side; the _slavery_ more
abject and less softened by humane sentiments.
Now there are a few, who have some dim perceptions of these so obvious
features to a disinterested spectator. They see that it is a poor
compensation to the wretched misery which holds thousands hopelessly in
its grasp, to point out an occasional accident of escape--where some
one, more gifted and more fortunate than his fellows, happens to rise
into comfort and slight esteem! These noble men, the harbingers of
light, who try to see and to act honestly, in spite of early prejudice
and habit, perceive that there is no hope for these _serfs_, unless
they can be moved with a higher interest. They think they discover a
chance to move them by offering them _knowledge_, without, or nearly
without, cost. But it is doubtful if they be not too low, too brutal,
to care for _knowing_ anything. Then, "they must be forced to send the
children, to be taught--_they must be whipped to School_." This is
resented as an outrage on the _freedom_ of the serf--as an invasion of
his family rights--as a positive, additional, tax and burden. For he
gets _something_ from the petty work, or from the begging or thieving
of the children, and now the Master takes _that_! Yet, probably, this
is one needful thing--to take the children into the hands of the State,
in every case where the natural guardian is unfit to properly care for
them. But the State cannot _half_ take them. It cannot take anything
of the present pittance, and claim to have compensated by giving words
instead. It is cruel to say to him who starves in body, "Starve--I feed
the mind!" A poor parent cannot receive even knowledge in exchange for
bread. And it cannot be asked of him, in his low estate, to exchange
the little added support of the child's wage for the, to him, useless
words of knowledge. In the face of want one cares only for bread!
Therefore, the State which teaches must also feed the poor--or see to
it that the honest poor be first fed. If the parent can only feed by
the help of the child, the State must not arbitrarily assume to be
Master and Judge--saying, "Come to school--and starve, if must be."
The High-Caste, secretly, clog and obstruct all attempts to raise
the low. Learning belongs to the master--ignorance to the serf. It
is enough for _him_ to obey and work. There will always be poor, and
vicious poor. It is better to merely watch and guard against an _Evil_,
for which there is no remedy. To give instruction to the low-orders,
is to arm demagogues with a dangerous weapon. "'A little knowledge is
a dangerous thing'--it only enables the multitude to see just what it
suits the purpose of the _Agitator_ to show! There is nothing but evil
in these grand measures. All must be left to individual effort; and to
the Priests. These must work as comes in their way; instructing those
who wish, and encouraging those who dutifully obey, and attend to the
labours imposed upon them by divine Providence" (Meaning, that _Jah_
has ordained, from all time, that some must be "_Hewers of wood and
drawers of water_"--a quotation from the _Sacred Writings_).
In this manner, the High-Caste, when it condescends to the subject at
all, dismisses it. Indeed, this Caste, the Master-Caste, really feels
no other concern in the low orders, but a concern for their peaceful
subjection. To this point they direct so much care, as to have always
trained bands of braves, and strong, picked, well-ordered men, called
_Police, ready at hand_. So, in case the wretched, degraded, and
despised serfs and thieves, should dare to raise any stir, disturbing
the ease and enjoyment of the luxurious High-Caste, they may be shot
down without mercy!
Necessarily, the elevation of the low-classes will be very gradual.
Many of the Priests, wishing to enlarge and maintain the influence of
the _Superstition_, actively exert themselves among the honest and
industrious poor. And some of these Bonzes are as benevolent as the
traditions of their Caste and of their Idolatry will permit.
It is doubtful if the present condition of the masses of the English
Barbarians be so manly and independent as ages ago--when they were
sufficiently intelligent to move in their own cause, and were really of
some importance in the State. Unfortunately, they did remove from their
necks the pressure of immediate, personal service, only to accumulate
upon them, _as a Class_, the whole weight of the landed and trading
interests. As a whole, therefore, they are more servile, more abject,
and more dependent; and the few individuals who may raise themselves
above the level of their class cannot even flatter themselves in this
to have gained. There never was a time when these individuals did not
exist--it is not clear that their numbers have increased.