Next year his wages were increased to fifteen shillings. He then began to save money. He did not put it in a bank, but used his savings for the purpose of making the tools with which he afterwards commenced business. In the third year of his service, his wages were again increased, on account, doubtless, of the value of his services. "I don't know," he has since said, "that any future period of my life abounded in such high enjoyment of existence as the three years I spent at Maudslay's. It was a glorious situation for one like myself,—so earnest as I was in all that related to mechanism—in the study of men as well as of machinery. I wish many a young man would do as I then did. I am sure they would find their reward in that feeling of constant improvement, of daily advancement, and true independence, which will ever have a charm for those who are earnest in their endeavours to make right progress in life and in the regard of all good men."

After three years spent at Maudslay's, Mr. Nasmyth returned to Edinburgh to construct a small stock of engineering tools suitable for starting him in business on his own account. He hired a workshop and did various engineering jobs, in order to increase his little store of money and to execute his little stock of tools. This occupied him for two years; and in 1834 he removed the whole of his tools and machinery to Manchester. He began business there in a very humble way, but it increased so rapidly that he was induced to remove to a choice piece of land on the banks of the Bridgewater Canal at Patricroft, and there make a beginning—at first in wooden sheds—of the now famous Bridgewater Foundry.

"There," says he, "I toiled right heartily until December 31st, 1856, when I retired to enjoy, in active leisure, the result of many an anxious and interesting day. I had there, with the blessing of God, devoted the best years of my life to the pursuit of a business of which I was proud. And I trust that, without undue vanity, I may be allowed to say that I have left my mark upon several useful inventions, which probably have had no small share in the mechanical works of the age. There is scarcely a steamship or locomotive that is not indebted to my steam hammer; and without it, Armstrong and Whitworth guns and iron-plated men-of-war could scarcely have existed."

But though Nasmyth retired from business at the age of forty-eight, he did not seek repose in idleness. He continues to be as busy as the busiest; but in an altogether different direction. Instead of being tied to the earth, he enjoys himself amongst the stars. By means of telescopes of his own making, he has investigated the sun, and discovered its "willow leaves;" he has examined and photographed the moon, and in the monograph of it which he has published, he has made us fully acquainted with its geography. He is also a thorough artist, and spends a considerable portion of his time in painting,—though he is too modest to exhibit. The last time we visited his beautiful home at Hammerfield, he was busy polishing glasses for one of his new telescopes,—the motive power being a windmill erected on one of his outhouses.

Another word before we have done. "If," said Nasmyth, "I were to try to compress into one sentence the whole of the experience I have had during an active and successful life, and offer it to young men as a rule and certain receipt for success in any station, it would be composed in these words—'Duty first! Pleasure second!' From what I have seen of young men and their after-progress, I am satisfied that what is generally termed 'bad fortune,' 'ill luck,' and 'misfortune,' is in nine cases out of ten, simply the result of inverting the above simple maxim. Such experience as I have had, convinces me that absence of success arises in the great majority of cases from want of self-denial and want of common sense. The worst of all maxims is 'Pleasure first! Work and Duty second!"



CHAPTER VI.

METHODS OF ECONOMY.

"It was with profound wisdom that the Romans called by the same name courage and virtue. There is in fact no virtue, properly so called, without victory over ourselves; and what cost us nothing, is worth nothing."—De Maistre.

"Almost all the advantages which man possesses above the inferior animals, arise from his power of acting in combination with his fellows; and of accomplishing by the united efforts of numbers what could not be accomplished by the detached efforts of indivduals."—J.S. Mill.

"For the future, our main security will be in the wider diffusion of Property, and in all such measures as will facilitate this result. With the possession of property will come Conservative instincts, and disinclination for rash and reckless schemes.... We trust much, therefore, to the rural population becoming Proprietors, and to the urban population becoming Capitalists."—W.R. Greg.

The methods of practising economy are very simple. Spend less than you earn. That is the first rule. A portion should always be set apart for the future. The person who spends more than he earns, is a fool. The civil law regards the spendthrift as akin to the lunatic, and frequently takes from him the management of his own affairs.

The next rule is to pay ready money, and never, on any account, to run into debt. The person who runs into debt is apt to get cheated; and if he runs into debt to any extent, he will himself be apt to get dishonest. "Who pays what he owes, enriches himself."

The next is, never to anticipate uncertain profits by expending them before they are secured. The profits may never come, and in that case you will have taken upon yourself a load of debt which you may never get rid of. It will sit upon your shoulders like the old man in Sinbad.

Another method of economy is, to keep a regular account of all that you earn, and of all that you expend. An orderly man will know beforehand what he requires, and will be provided with the necessary means for obtaining it. Thus his domestic budget will be balanced; and his expenditure kept within his income.

John Wesley regularly adopted this course. Although he possessed a small income, he always kept his eyes upon the state of his affairs. A year before his death, he wrote with a trembling hand, in his Journal of Expenses; "For more than eighty-six years I have kept my accounts exactly. I do not care to continue to do so any longer, having the conviction that I economize all that I obtain, and give all that I can,—that is to say, all that I have."[1]

[Footnote 1: Southey's Life of Wesley, vol. ii., p. 560.]

Besides these methods of economy, the eye of the master or the mistress is always necessary to see that nothing is lost, that everything is put to its proper use and kept in its proper place, and that all things are done decently and in order. It does no dishonour to even the highest individuals to take a personal interest in their own affairs. And with persons of moderate means, the necessity for the eye of the master overlooking everything, is absolutely necessary for the proper conduct of business.

It is difficult to fix the precise limits of economy. Bacon says that if a man would live well within his income, he ought not to expend more than one-half, and save the rest. This is perhaps too exacting; and Bacon himself did not follow his own advice. What proportion of one's income should be expended on rent? That depends upon circumstances. In the country about one-tenth; in London about one-sixth. It is at all events better to save too much, than spend too much. One may remedy the first defect, but not so easily the latter. Wherever there is a large family, the more money that is put to one side and saved, the better.

Economy is necessary to the moderately rich, as well as to the comparatively poor man. Without economy, a man cannot be generous. He cannot take part in the charitable work of the world. If he spends all that he earns, he can help nobody. He cannot properly educate his children, nor put them in the way of starting fairly in the business of life. Even the example of Bacon shows that the loftiest intelligence cannot neglect thrift without peril. But thousands of witnesses daily testify, that men even of the most moderate intelligence, can practise the virtue with success.

Although Englishmen are a diligent, hard-working, and generally self-reliant race, trusting to themselves and their own efforts for their sustenance and advancement in the world, they are yet liable to overlook and neglect some of the best practical methods of improving their position, and securing their social well-being. They are not yet sufficiently educated to be temperate, provident, and foreseeing. They live for the present, and are too regardless of the coming time. Men who are husbands and parents, generally think they do their duty if they provide for the hour that is, neglectful of the hour that is to come. Though industrious, they are improvident; though money-making, they are spendthrift. They do not exercise forethought enough, and are defective in the virtue of prudent economy.

Men of all classes are, as yet, too little influenced by these considerations. They are apt to live beyond their incomes,—at all events, to live up to them, The upper classes live too much for display; they must keep up their "position in society;" they must have fine houses, horses, and carriages; give good dinners, and drink rich wines, their ladies must wear costly and gay dresses. Thus the march of improvidence goes on over broken hearts, ruined hopes, and wasted ambitions.

The vice descends in society,—the middle classes strive to ape the patrician orders; they flourish crests, liveries, and hammercloths; their daughters must learn "accomplishments"—see "society"—ride and drive—frequent operas and theatres. Display is the rage, ambition rivalling ambition; and thus the vicious folly rolls on like a tide. The vice again descends. The working classes, too, live up to their means—much smaller means, it is true; but even when they are able, they are not sufficiently careful to provide against the evil day; and then only the poorhouse offers its scanty aid to protect them against want.

To save money for avaricious purposes is altogether different from saving it for economical purposes. The saving may be accomplished in the same manner—by wasting nothing, and saving everything. But here the comparison ends. The miser's only pleasure is in saving. The prudent economist spends what he can afford for comfort and enjoyment, and saves a surplus for some future time. The avaricious person makes gold his idol: it is his molten calf, before which he constantly bows down; whereas the thrifty person regards it as a useful instrument, and as a means of promoting his own happiness and the happiness of those who are dependent upon him. The miser is never satisfied. He amasses wealth that he can never consume, but leaves it to be squandered by others, probably by spendthrifts; whereas the economist aims at securing a fair share of the world's wealth and comfort, without any thought of amassing a fortune.

It is the duty of all persons to economize their means,—of the young as well as of the old. The Duke of Sully mentions, in his Memoirs, that nothing contributed more to his fortune than the prudent economy which he practised, even in his youth, of always preserving some ready money in hand for the purpose of meeting circumstances of emergency. Is a man married? Then the duty of economy is still more binding. His wife and children plead to him most eloquently. Are they, in the event of his early death, to be left to buffet with the world unaided? The hand of charity is cold, the gifts of charity are valueless, compared with the gains of industry, and the honest savings of frugal labour, which carry with them blessings and comforts, without inflicting any wound upon the feelings of the helpless and bereaved. Let every man, therefore, who can, endeavour to economize and to save; not to hoard, but to nurse his little savings, for the sake of promoting the welfare and happiness of himself while here, and of others when he has departed.

There is a dignity in the very effort to save with a worthy purpose, even though the attempt should not be crowned with eventual success. It produces a well-regulated mind; it gives prudence a triumph over extravagance; it gives virtue the mastery over vice; it puts the passions under control; it drives away care; it secures comfort. Saved money, however little, will serve to dry up many a tear—will ward off many sorrows and heartburnings, which otherwise might prey upon us. Possessed of a little store of capital, a man walks with a lighter step—his heart beats more cheerily. When interruption of work or adversity happens, he can meet them; he can recline on his capital, which will either break his fall, or prevent it altogether. By prudential economy, we can realize the dignity of man; life will be a blessing, and old age an honour. We can ultimately, under a kind Providence, surrender life, conscious that we have been no burden upon society, but rather, perhaps, an acquisition and ornament to it; conscious, also, that as we have been independent, our children after us, by following our example, and availing themselves of the means we have left behind us, will walk in like manner through the world in happiness and independence.

Every man's first duty is, to improve, to educate, and elevate himself—helping forward his brethren at the same time by all reasonable methods. Each has within himself the capability of free will and free action to a large extent; and the fact is proved by the multitude of men who have successfully battled with and overcome the adverse circumstances of life in which they have been placed; and who have risen from the lowest depths of poverty and social debasement, as if to prove what energetic man, resolute of purpose, can do for his own elevation, progress, and advancement in the world. Is it not a fact that the greatness of humanity, the glory of communities, the power of nations, are the result of trials and difficulties encountered and overcome?

Let a man resolve and determine that he will advance, and the first step of advancement is already made. The first step is half the battle. In the very fact of advancing himself, he is in the most effectual possible way advancing others. He is giving them the most eloquent of all lessons—that of example; which teaches far more emphatically than words can teach. He is doing, what others are by imitation incited to do. Beginning with himself, he is in the most emphatic manner teaching the duty of self-reform and of self-improvement; and if the majority of men acted as he did, how much wiser, how much happier, how much more prosperous as a whole, would society become. For, society being made up of units, will be happy and prosperous, or the reverse, exactly in the same degree as the respective individuals who compose it.

Complaints about the inequality of conditions are as old as the world. In the "Economy" of Xenophon, Socrates asks, "How is it that some men live in abundance, and have something to spare, whilst others can scarcely obtain the necessaries of life, and at the same time run into debt?" "The reason is," replied Isomachus, "because the former occupy themselves with their business, whilst the latter neglect it."

The difference between men consists for the most part in intelligence, conduct, and energy. The best character never works by chance, but is under the influence of virtue, prudence, and forethought.

There are, of course, many failures in the world. The man who looks to others for help, instead of relying on himself, will fail. The man who is undergoing the process of perpetual waste, will fail. The miser, the scrub, the extravagant, the thriftless, will necessarily fail. Indeed, most people fail because they do not deserve to succeed. They set about their work in the wrong way, and no amount of experience seems to improve them. There is not so much in luck as some people profess to believe. Luck is only another word for good management in practical affairs. Richelieu used to say that he would not continue to employ an unlucky man,—in other words, a man wanting in practical qualities, and unable to profit by experience; for failures in the past are very often the auguries of failures in the future.

Some of the best and ablest of men are wanting in tact. They will neither make allowance for circumstances, nor adapt themselves to circumstances: they will insist on trying to drive their wedge the broad end foremost. They raise walls only to run their own heads against. They make such great preparations, and use such great precautions, that they defeat their own object,—like the Dutchman mentioned by Washington Irving, who, having to leap a ditch, went so far back to have a good run at it, that when he came up he was completely winded, and had to sit down on the wrong side to recover his breath.

In actual life, we want things done, not preparations for doing them; and we naturally prefer the man who has definite aims and purposes, and proceeds in the straightest and shortest way to accomplish his object, to the one who describes the thing to be done, and spins fine phrases about doing it. Without action, words are mere maundering.

The desire for success in the world, and even for the accumulation of money, is not without its uses. It has doubtless been implanted in the human heart for good rather than for evil purposes. Indeed the desire to accumulate, forms one of the most powerful instruments for the regeneration of society. It provides the basis for individual energy and activity. It is the beginning of maritime and commercial enterprise. It is the foundation of industry, as well as of independence. It impels men to labour, to invent, and to excel.

No idle nor thriftless man ever became great. It is amongst those who never lost a moment, that we find the men who have moved and advanced the world,—by their learning, their science, or their inventions. Labour of some sort is one of the conditions of existence. The thought has come down to us from pagan times, that "Labour is the price which the gods have set upon all that is excellent." The thought is also worthy of Christian times.

Everything depends, as we shall afterwards find, upon the uses to which accumulations of wealth are applied. On the tombstone of John Donough, of New Orleans, the following maxims are engraved as the merchant's guide to young men on their way through life:—

"Remember always that labour is one of the conditions of our existence.

"Time is gold; throw not one minute away, but place each one to account.

"Do unto all men as you would be done by.

"Never put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day.

"Never bid another do what you can do yourself.

"Never covet what is not your own.

"Never think any matter so trifling as not to deserve notice.

"Never give out what does not come in.

"Do not spend, but produce.

"Let the greatest order regulate the actions of your life.

"Study in your course of life to do the greatest amount of good.

"Deprive yourself of nothing that is necessary to your comfort, but live in honourable simplicity and frugality.

"Labour then to the last moment of your existence."

Most men have it in their power, by prudent arrangements, to defend themselves against adversity, and to throw up a barrier against destitution. They can do this by their own individual efforts, or by acting on the principle of co-operation, which is capable of an almost indefinite extension. People of the most humble condition, by combining their means and associating together, are enabled in many ways to defend themselves against the pressure of poverty, to promote their physical well-being, and even to advance the progress of the nation.

A solitary individual may be able to do very little to advance and improve society; but when he combines with his fellows for the purpose, he can do a very great deal. Civilization itself is but the effect of combining. Mr. Mill has said that "almost all the advantages which man possesses over the inferior animals, arise from his power of acting in combination with his fellows, and of accomplishing, by the united efforts of numbers, what could not be accomplished by the detached efforts of individuals."

The secret of social development is to be found in co-operation; and the great question of improved economical and social life can only receive a satisfactory solution through its means. To effect good on a large scale, men must combine their efforts; and the best social system is that in which the organization for the common good is rendered the most complete in all respects.

The middle classes have largely employed the principle of association. No class has risen so rapidly, or done more by their energy and industry to advance the power and progress of England. And why? Because the most active have always been the most ready to associate, to co-operate, and to combine. They have combined when they were attacked, combined when they had an abuse to destroy, or a great object to accomplish. They have associated together to manufacture articles of commerce, to make canals, to construct railways, to form gas companies, to institute insurance and banking companies, and to do an immense amount of industrial work. By combining their small capitals together, they have been able to accumulate an enormous aggregate capital, and to execute the most gigantic undertakings.

The middle classes have accomplished more by the principle of co-operation than the classes who have so much greater need of it. All the joint stock companies are the result of association. The railways, the telegraphs, the banks, the mines, the manufactories, have for the most part been established and are carried on by means of the savings of the middle classes.

The working classes have only begun to employ the same principle. Yet how much might they accomplish by its means! They might co-operate in saving as well as in producing. They might, by putting their saved earnings together, become, by combination, their own masters. Within a few years past, many millions sterling have been expended in strikes for wages. A hundred millions a year are thrown away upon drink and other unnecessary articles. Here is an enormous capital. Men who expend or waste such an amount can easily become capitalists. It requires only will, energy, and self-denial. So much money spent on buildings, plant, and steam-engines, would enable them to manufacture for themselves, instead of for the benefit of individual capitalists. The steam-engine is impartial in its services. It is no respecter of persons; it will work for the benefit of the labourer as well as for the benefit of the millionaire. It will work for those who make the best use of it, and who have the greatest knowledge of its powers.

The greater number of workmen possess little capital save their labour; and, as we have already seen, many of them uselessly and wastefully spend most of their earnings, instead of saving them and becoming capitalists. By combining in large numbers for the purposes of economical working, they might easily become capitalists, and operate upon a large scale. As society is now constituted, every man is not only justified but bound in duty as a citizen, to accumulate his earnings by all fair and honourable methods, with the view of securing a position of ultimate competence and independence.

We do not say that men should save and hoard their gains for the mere sake of saving and hoarding; this would be parsimony and avarice. But we do say that all men ought to aim at accumulating a sufficiency—enough to maintain them in comfort during the helpless years that are to come—to maintain them in times of sickness and of sorrow, and in old age, which, if it does come, ought to find them with a little store of capital in hand, sufficient to secure them from dependence upon the charity of others.

Workmen are for the most part disposed to associate; but the association is not always of a healthy kind. It sometimes takes the form of Unions against masters; and displays itself in the Strikes that are so common, and usually so unfortunate. Workmen also strike against men of their own class, for the purpose of excluding them from their special calling. One of the principal objects of trades-unions is to keep up wages at the expense of the lower paid and unassociated working people. They endeavour to prevent poorer men learning their trade, and thus keep the supply of labour below the demand.[1] This system may last for a time, but it becomes ruinous in the end.

[Footnote 1: On the 31st January, 1875, a labourer in the employment of Messrs. Vickers, Sheffield, who had not served an apprenticeship, was put on to turn one of the lathes. This being contrary to the rules of the union, the men in the shop struck work. It is a usual course for men of the union to "strike" in this manner against persons of their own condition, and to exercise a force not resting in law or natural right, but merely on the will of a majority, and directly subversive of the freedom of the individual.]

It is not the want of money that prevents skilled workmen from becoming capitalists, and opening the door for the employment of labouring men who are poorer and less skilled than themselves. The work-people threw away half a million sterling during the Preston strike, after which they went back to work at the old terms. The London building trades threw away over three hundred thousand pounds during their strike; and even had they obtained the terms for which they struck, it would have taken six years to recoup them for their loss. The colliers in the Forest of Dean went back to work at the old terms after eleven weeks' play, at the loss of fifty thousand pounds. The iron-workers of Northumberland and Durham, after spending a third of the year in idleness, and losing two hundred thousand pounds in wages, went back to work at a reduction of ten per cent. The colliers and iron-workers of South Wales, during the recent strike or lock-out, were idle for four months, and, according to Lord Aberdare, lost, in wages alone, not less than three millions sterling!

Here, then, is abundance of money within the power of working-men,—money which they might utilize, but do not. Think only of a solitary million, out of the three millions sterling which they threw away during the coal strike, being devoted to the starting of collieries, or iron-mills, or manufactories, to be worked by co-operative production for the benefit of the operatives themselves. With frugal habits, says Mr. Greg, the well-conditioned workman might in ten years easily have five hundred pounds in the bank; and, combining his savings with twenty other men similarly disposed, they might have ten thousand pounds for the purpose of starting any manufacture in which they are adepts.[1]

[Footnote 1: "The annual expenditure of the working classes alone, on drink and tobacco, is not less than L60,000,000. Every year, therefore, the working classes have it in their power to become capitalists (simply by saving wasteful and pernicious expenditure) to an extent which would enable them to start at least 500 cotton mills, or coal mines, or iron works, on their own account, or to purchase at least 500,000 acres, and so set up 50,000 families each with a nice little estate of their own of ten acres, on fee simple. No one can dispute the facts. No one can deny the inference."—Quarterly Review, No. 263.]

That this is not an impracticable scheme, is capable of being easily proved. The practice of co-operation has long been adopted by workpeople throughout England. A large proportion of the fishery industry has been conducted on that principle for hundreds of years. Fishermen join in building, rigging, and manning a boat; the proceeds of the fish they catch at sea is divided amongst them—so much to the boat, so much to the fishermen. The company of oyster-dredgers of Whitstable "has existed time out of mind,"[2] though it was only in 1793 that they were incorporated by Act of Parliament. The tin-miners of Cornwall have also acted on the same principle. They have mined, washed, and sold the tin, dividing the proceeds among themselves in certain proportions,—most probably from the time that the Phoenicians carried away the produce to their ports in the Mediterranean.

[Footnote 2: Reports on the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, vol. vi., p. 252.]

In our own time, co-operation has been practised to a considerable extent. In 1795, the Hull Anti-Mill Industrial Society was founded. The reasons for its association are explained in the petition addressed to the Mayor and Aldermen of Hull by the first members of the society. The petition begins thus: "We, the poor inhabitants of the said town, have lately experienced much trouble and sorrow in ourselves and families, on the occasion of the exorbitant price of flour; and though the price is much reduced at present, yet we judge it needful to take every precaution to preserve ourselves from the invasions of covetous and merciless men in future." They accordingly entered into a subscription to build a mill, in order to supply themselves with flour. The corporation granted their petition, and supported them by liberal donations. The mill was built, and exists to this day. It now consists of more than four thousand members, each holding a share of twenty-five shillings. The members belong principally to the labouring classes. The millers endeavoured by action at law to put down the society, but the attempt was successfully resisted. The society manufactures flour, and sells it to the members at market price, dividing the profits annually amongst the shareholders, according to the quantity consumed in each member's family. The society has proved eminently remunerative.

Many years passed before the example of the "poor inhabitants" of Hull was followed. It was only in 1847 that the co-operators of Leeds purchased a flour-mill, and in 1850 that those of Rochdale did the same; since which time they have manufactured flour for the benefit of their members. The corn-millers of Leeds attempted to undersell the Leeds Industrial Society. They soon failed, and the price of flour was permanently reduced. The Leeds mill does business amounting to more than a hundred thousand pounds yearly; its capital amounts to twenty-two thousand pounds; and it paid more than eight thousand pounds of profits and bonuses to its three thousand six hundred members in 1866, besides supplying them with flour of the best quality. The Rochdale District Co-operative Corn-mill Society has also been eminently successful. It supplies flour to consumers residing within a radius of about fifteen miles round Rochdale[1]. It also supplies flour to sixty-two co-operative societies, numbering over twelve thousand members. Its business in 1866 amounted to two hundred and twenty-four thousand pounds, and its profits to over eighteen thousand pounds.

[Footnote 1: Its history is given in the Reports above referred to, p. 269.]

The Rochdale Corn-mill grew out of the Rochdale Equitable Pioneers Society, which formed an epoch in the history of industrial co-operative institutions. The Equitable Pioneers Society was established in the year 1844, at a time when trade was in a very bad condition, and working people generally were heartless and hopeless as to their future state. Some twenty-eight or thirty men, mostly flannel weavers, met and formed themselves into a society for the purpose of economizing their hard-won earnings. It is pretty well known that working-men generally pay at least ten per cent. more for the articles they consume, than they need to do under a sounder system. Professor Fawcett estimates their loss at nearer twenty per cent. than ten per cent. At all events, these working-men wished to save this amount of profit, which before went into the pockets of the distributers of the necessaries,—in other words, into the pockets of the shopkeepers.

The weekly subscription was twopence each; and when about fifty-two calls of twopence each had been made, they found that they were able to buy a sack of oatmeal, which they distributed at cost-price amongst the members of the society. The number of members grew, and the subscriptions so increased, that the society was enabled to buy tea, sugar, and other articles, and distribute them amongst the members at cost-price. They superseded the shopkeepers, and became their own tradesmen. They insisted from the first on payments in cash. No credit was given.

The society grew. It established a store for the sale of food, firing, clothes, and other necessaries. In a few years the members set on foot the Co-operative Corn-mill. They increased the capital by the issue of one-pound shares, and began to make and sell clothes and shoes. They also sold drapery. But the principal trade consisted in the purchase and sale of provisions—butchers' meat, groceries, flour, and such-like. Notwithstanding the great distress during the period of the cotton famine, the society continued to prosper. From the first, it set apart a portion of its funds for educational purposes, and established a news-room, and a library, which now contains over six thousand volumes.

The society continued to increase until it possessed eleven branches for the sale of goods and stores in or near Rochdale, besides the original office in Toad Lane. At the end of 1866, it had 6,246 members, and a capital of L99,908. Its income for goods sold and cash received during the year was L249,122; and the gross profit L31,931.

But this was not all. Two and a half per cent. was appropriated from the net profits to support the news-rooms and library; and there are now eleven news and reading rooms at different places in or near the town where the society carries on its business; the sum devoted to this object amounting to over seven hundred pounds per annum. The members play at chess and draughts, and use the stereoscopic views, microscopes, and telescopes placed in the libraries. No special arrangements have been made to promote temperance; but the news-rooms and library exercise a powerful and beneficial influence in promoting sobriety. It has been said that the society has done more to remove drunkenness from Rochdale than all that the advocates of temperance have been able to effect.

The example of the Rochdale Pioneers has exercised a powerful influence on working-men throughout the northern counties of England. There is scarcely a town or village but has a co-operative institution of one kind or another. These societies have promoted habits of saving, of thrift, and of temperance. They have given the people an interest in money matters, and enabled them to lay out their earnings to the best advantage. They have also given the working people some knowledge of business; for the whole of their concerns are managed by committees selected at the general meetings of the members.

One of the most flourishing co-operative societies is that established at Over Darwen. The society has erected a row of handsome buildings in the centre of the town. The shops for the sale of provisions, groceries, clothing, and other necessaries, occupy the lower story. Over the shops are the library, reading rooms, and class rooms, which are open to the members and their families. The third story consists of a large public hall, which is used for lectures, concerts, and dances. There are six branches of the society established in different parts of the town. A large amount of business is done, and the profits are very considerable. These are divided amongst the members, in proportion to the purchases made by them. The profits are for the most part re-invested in joint-stock paper-mills, cotton-mills, and collieries, in the neighbourhood of Darwen. One of the most praiseworthy features of the society is the provision made for the free education of the members and their families. Two and a half per cent. of the profits are appropriated for the purpose. While inspecting the institution a few months ago, we were informed that the Science classes were so efficiently conducted, that one of the pupils had just obtained a Government Scholarship of fifty pounds a year, for three years, including free instruction at the School of Mines, Jermyn Street, London, with a free use of the laboratories during that period. There are also two other co-operative institutions in the same place; and we were informed that the working people of Darwen are, for the most part, hard-working, sober, and thrifty.

The example has also spread into Scotland and the south of England. At Northampton, a co-operative society exists for the purpose of buying and selling leather, and also for the manufacture of boots and shoes. At Padiham and other places in Lancashire, co-operative cotton-mills have been established. The Manchester and Salford Equitable Co-operative Society "combine the securities and facilities of a bank with the profits of a trade." But the business by which they mostly thrive, is by the purchase and sale of food, provisions, groceries, draperies, and other articles, with the exception of intoxicating liquors.

The sole secret of their success consists in "ready money." They give no credit. Everything is done for cash; the profit of the trade being divided amongst the members. Every business man knows that cash payment is the soundest method of conducting business. The Rochdale Pioneers having discovered the secret, have spread it amongst their class. In their "advice to members of this and other societies," they say: "Look well after money matters. Buy your goods as much as possible in the first markets; or if you have the produce of your industry to sell, contrive, if possible, to sell it in the last. Never depart from the principle of buying and selling for ready money. Beware of long reckonings." In short, the co-operative societies became tradesmen on a large scale; and, besides the pureness of the food sold, their profit consisted in the discount for cash payments, which was divided amongst the members.

Land and Building Societies constitute another form of co-operation. These are chiefly supported by the minor middle-class men, but also to a considerable extent by the skilled and thrifty working-class men. By their means portions of land are bought, and dwelling-houses are built. By means of a building society, a person who desires to possess a house enters the society as a member, and instead of paying his rent to the landlord, pays his subscriptions and interest to a committee of his friends; and in course of time, when his subscriptions are paid up, the house is purchased, and conveyed to him by the society. The building-society is thus a savings bank, where money accumulates for a certain purpose. But even those who do not purchase a house, receive a dividend and bonus on their shares, which sometimes amounts to a considerable sum.

The accumulation of property has the effect which it always has upon thrifty men; it makes them steady, sober, and diligent. It weans them from revolutionary notions, and makes them conservative. When workmen, by their industry and frugality, have secured their own independence, they will cease to regard the sight of others' well-being as a wrong inflicted on themselves; and it will no longer be possible to make political capital out of their imaginary woes.

It has been said that Freehold Land Societies, which were established for political objects, had the effect of weaning men from political reform. They were first started in Birmingham, for the purpose of enabling men to buy land, and divide it into forty-shilling freeholds, so that the owners might become electors and vote against the corn-laws. The corn-laws have been done away with; but the holders of freehold land still exist, though many of them have ceased to be politicians. "Mr. Arthur Ryland informs me," said Mr. Holyoake, in a recent paper on Building Societies, "that in Birmingham, numbers of persons under the influence of these societies have forsaken patriotism for profits. And I know both co-operators and Chartists who were loud-mouthed for social and political reform, who now care no more for it than a Whig government; and decline to attend a public meeting on a fine night, while they would crawl like the serpent in Eden, through a gutter in a storm, after a good security. They have tasted land, and the gravel has got into their souls."

"Yet to many others," he adds, "these societies have taught a healthy frugality they never else would have known; and enabled many an industrious son to take to his home his poor old father—who expected and dreaded to die in the workhouse—and set him down to smoke his pipe in the sunshine in the garden, of which the land and the house belonged to his child."[1]

[Footnote 1: Paper read at York Meeting of the National Society for Promoting Social Science, 26th Sept. 1864.]

The Leeds Permanent Building Society, which has furnished healthy tenements for about two hundred families, sets forth the following recommendations of the influence which it has exercised amongst the working classes of that town: "It is truly cheering to hear the members themselves, at occasional meetings tell how, from small savings hitherto deemed too little for active application, they began to invest in the society: then to build or buy; then to advance in life, and come to competence, from extending their savings in this manner.... The provident habits and knowledge thus induced are most beneficial to the members. And the result is, that the careless become thoughtful, and, on saving, become orderly, respectable, propertied, and in every way better citizens, neighbours, and more worthy and comfortable. The employment of money in this useful direction encourages trade, advances prices and wages, comforts the working classes, and at the same time provides the means of home enjoyments, without which such advances would be comparatively useless, and certainly uncertain."[1]

[Footnote 1: Letter of Mr. John Holmes, in Reports of Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867 vol. vi., p. 240.]

There are also exceptional towns and villages in Lancashire where large sums of money have been saved by the operatives for buying or building comfortable cottage dwellings. Last year Padiham saved about fifteen thousand pounds for this purpose, although its population is only about 8,000. Burnley has also been very successful. The Building Society there has 6,600 investors, who saved last year L160,000 or an average of twenty-four pounds for each investor. The members consist principally of mill operatives, miners, mechanics, engineers, carpenters, stonemasons, and labourers. They also include women, both married and unmarried. Our informant states that "great numbers of the working classes have purchased houses in which to live. They have likewise bought houses as a means of investment. The building society has assisted in hundreds of these cases, by advancing money on mortgage,—such mortgages being repaid by easy instalments."

Building Societies are, on the whole, among the most excellent methods of illustrating the advantages of Thrift. They induce men to save money for the purpose of buying their own homes; in which, so long as they live, they possess the best of all securities.



CHAPTER VII.

ECONOMY IN LIFE ASSURANCE.

"Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose That you resolved to effect."—Shakespeare.

"We are helpers, fellow-creatures, Of the right against the wrong."—E. Barrett.

"Life was not given us to be all used up in the pursuit of what we must leave behind us when we die."—Joseph May.

"Le bonheur ou le malheur de la vielillesse n'est souvent que l'extrait de notre vie passee." (The blessedness or misery of old age is often but the extract of our past life.) De Maistre.

Two other methods of co-operative saving remain to be mentioned. The first is by Life Assurance, which enables widows and children to be provided for at the death of the assured; and the second is by Friendly Societies, which enable working men to provide themselves with relief in sickness, and their widows and orphans with a small sum at their death. The first method is practised by the middle and upper classes; and the second by the working classes.

It might possibly take a long time to save enough money to provide for those who are dependent upon us; and there is always the temptation to encroach upon the funds set apart for death, which—as most people suppose—may be a far-distant event. So that saving bit by bit, from week to week, cannot always be relied upon.

The person who joins an assurance society is in a different position. His annual or quarterly saving becomes at once a portion of a general fund, sufficient to realize the intention of the assured. At the moment that he makes his first payment, his object is attained. Though he die on the day after his premium has been paid, his widow and children will receive the entire amount of his assurance.

This system, while it secures a provision to his survivors, at the same time incites a man to the moral obligation of exorcising foresight and prudence, since through its means these virtues may be practised, and their ultimate reward secured. Not the least of the advantages attending life assurance is the serenity of mind which attends the provident man when lying on a bed of sickness, or when he is in prospect of death,—so unlike that painful anxiety for the future welfare of a family, which adds poignancy to bodily suffering, and retards or defeats the power of medicine. The poet Burns, in writing to a friend a few days before his death, said that he was "still the victim of affliction. Alas! Clark, I begin to fear the worst. Burns' poor widow, and half a dozen of his dear little ones helpless orphans;—there, I am weak as a woman's tear. Enough of this,—'tis half my disease!"

Life assurance may be described as a joint-stock plan for securing widows, and children from want. It is an arrangement by means of which a large number of persons agree to lay by certain small sums called "premiums," yearly, to accumulate at interest, as in a savings bank, against the contingency of the assurer's death,—when the amount of the sum subscribed for is forthwith handed over to his survivors. By this means, persons possessed of but little capital, though enjoying regular wages or salaries, however small, may at once form a fund for the benefit of their family at death.

We often hear of men who have been diligent and useful members of society, dying and leaving their wives and families in absolute poverty. They have lived in respectable style, paid high rents for their houses, dressed well, kept up good visiting acquaintance, were seen at most places of amusement, and brought up their children with certain ideas of social position and respectability; but death has stricken them down, and what is the situation of their families? Has the father provided for their future? From twenty to twenty-five pounds a year, paid into an Assurance Society, would have secured their widows and orphans against absolute want. Have they performed this duty? No—they have done nothing of the kind; it turns out that the family have been living up to their means, if not beyond them, and the issue is, that they are thrown suddenly bankrupt upon the world.

Conduct such as this is not only thoughtless and improvident, but heartless and cruel in the last degree. To bring a family into the world, give them refined tastes, and accustom them to comforts, the loss of which is misery, and then to leave the family to the workhouse, the prison, or the street—to the alms of relatives, or to the charity of the public,—is nothing short of a crime done against society, as well as against the unfortunate individuals who are the immediate sufferers.

It will be admitted, that the number of men who can lay by a sufficient store of capital for the benefit of their families, is, in these times of intense competition, comparatively small. Perhaps the claims of an increasing family absorb nearly all their gains, and they find that the sum which they can put away in the bank is so small, that it is not put away at all. They become reckless of ever attaining so apparently hopeless an object as that of an accumulation of savings, for the benefit of their families at death.

Take the case of a married man with a family. He has begun business, and thinks that if his life were spared, he might in course of years be able to lay by sufficient savings to provide for his wife and family at his death. But life is most uncertain, and he knows that at any moment he may be taken away,—leaving those he holds most dear comparatively destitute. At thirty he determines to join a sound life office. He insures for five hundred pounds, payable to his survivors at his death, and pays from twelve to thirteen pounds yearly. From the moment on which he pays that amount, the five hundred pounds are secured for his family, although he died the very next day.

Now, if he had deposited this twelve or thirteen pounds yearly in a bank, or employed it at interest, it would have taken about twenty years before his savings would have amounted to five hundred pounds. But by the simple and beautiful expedient of life assurance, these twenty-six years of the best part of his life are, on this account at least, secured against anxiety and care. The anticipation of future evil no longer robs him of present enjoyment. By means of his annual fixed payment—which decreases according to the profits of the society—he is secure of leaving a fixed sum at his death for the benefit of his family.

In this way, life assurance may be regarded in the light of a contract, by which the inequalities of life are to a certain extent averaged and compensated, so that those who die soon—or rather their families—become sharers in the good fortune of those who live beyond the average term of life. And even should the assurer himself live beyond the period at which his savings would have accumulated to more than the sum insured, he will not be disposed to repine, if he takes into account his exemption from corroding solicitude during so many years of his life.

The reasons which induce a man to insure his house and stock of goods against the accident of fire, ought to be still more imperative in inducing him to insure his life against the accident of disease and the contingency of sudden death. What is worldly prudence in the one case, is something more in the other; it has superadded to it the duty of providing for the future maintenance of a possibly widowed wife, and orphaned children; and no man can justly stand excused who neglects so great and binding an obligation. Is it an obligation on the part of a husband and father to provide daily bread for his wife and children during his life? Then it is equally an obligation on his part to provide means for their adequate support in event of his death. The duty is so obvious, the means of performing it are so simple, and are now so easily placed within the reach of all men,—the arrangement is so eminently practical, rational, benevolent, and just,—it is, moreover, so calculated to increase every wise and prudent man's sense of self-respect, and to encourage him in the performance of all proper social duties,—that we cannot conceive of any possible objection that can be urged against it; and it is only to be regretted that the practice is not far more general and customary than it is, amongst all classes of the community.[1]

[Footnote 1: It may be mentioned that the total amount assured in existing British offices, mostly by the middle classes, is about three hundred and fifty millions sterling; and that the annual premiums payable amount to not less than eleven millions sterling. And yet no more than one person in twenty of the persons belonging to the classes to whom Life Assurance is especially applicable, have yet availed themselves of its benefits.]

The Friendly or Benefit Societies of the working classes are also Co-operative Societies under another form. They cultivate the habit of prudent self-reliance amongst the people, and are consequently worthy of every encouragement. It is certainly a striking fact that some four millions of working men should have organized themselves into voluntary associations for the purpose of mutual support in time of sickness and distress. These societies are the outgrowth in a great measure of the English love of self-government and social independence,—in illustration of which it maybe stated, that whereas in France only one person in seventy-six is found belonging to a benefit society, and in Belgium one in sixty-four, the proportion in England is found to be one in nine. The English societies are said to have in hand funds amounting to more than eleven millions sterling; and they distribute relief amongst their members, provided by voluntary contributions out of their weekly earnings, amounting to above two millions yearly.

Although the working classes of France and Belgium do not belong to benefit societies to anything like the same extent, it must be stated, in their justification, that they are amongst the most thrifty and prudent people in the world. They invest their savings principally in land and in the public funds. The French and Belgians have a positive hunger for land. They save everything that they can for the purpose of acquiring more. And with respect to their investments in the public funds, it may be mentioned, as a well-known fact, that it was the French peasantry who, by investing their savings in the National Defence Loan, liberated French soil from the tread of their German conquerors.[1]

[Footnote 1: At the present time one individual out of every eight in the population of France has a share in the National Debt, the average amount held being 170 francs. The participants in the debt approach closely to the number of freeholders, or rather distinct freeholdings, which amount to 5,550,000, according to the last return. France certainly furnishes a singular exception to those countries of Central and Western Europe, where "the rich are getting more rich and the poor ever more poor." In France wealth becomes more and more distributed among the bulk of the population.]

English benefit societies, notwithstanding their great uses and benefits, have numerous defects. There are faults in the details of their organization and management, whilst many of them are financially unsound. Like other institutions in their early stages, they have been tentative and in a great measure empirical,—more especially as regards their rates of contribution and allowances for sick relief. The rates have in many cases been fixed too low, in proportion to the benefits allowed; and hence the "box" is often declared to be closed, after the money subscribed has been expended. The society then comes to an end, and the older members have to go without relief for the rest of their lives. But life assurance societies themselves have had to undergo the same discipline of failure, and the operation of "winding up" has not unfrequently thrown discredit upon these middle-class associations.

To quote the words of the Registrar of Friendly Societies, in a recent report: "Though the information thus far obtained is not very encouraging as to the general system of management; on the whole, perhaps, the results of the investments of the poor are not worse than those which noblemen, members of Parliament, merchants, professed financiers, and speculators have contrived to attain in their management of railways, joint-stock banks, and enterprises of all kinds."

The workmen's societies originated for the most part in a common want, felt by persons of small means, unable to accumulate any considerable store of savings to provide against destitution in the event of disablement by disease or accident. At the beginning of life, persons earning their bread by daily labour are able to save money with difficulty. Unavoidable expenses absorb their limited means and press heavily on their income. When unable to work, any little store they may have accumulated is soon spent, and if they have a family to maintain, there is then no choice before them but destitution, begging, or recourse to the poor-rates. In their desire to avoid either of these alternatives, they have contrived the expedient of the benefit society. By combining and putting a large number of small contributions together, they have found it practicable thus to provide a fund sufficiently large to meet their ordinary requirements during sickness.

The means by which this is accomplished are very simple. Each member contributes to a common fund at the rate of from fourpence to sixpence a week, and out of this fund the stipulated allowance is paid. Most benefit societies have also a Widows' and Orphans' Fund, raised in like manner, out of which a sum is paid to the survivors of members at their death. It will be obvious that such organizations, however faulty they may be in detail, cannot fail to exercise a beneficial influence upon society at large. The fact that one of such associations, the Manchester Unity of Odd Fellows, numbers about half a million of members; possesses a funded capital amounting to L3,706,366; and distributes in sick relief and payments of sums at death above L300,000 a year, illustrates in a striking light their beneficial action upon the classes for whom and by whom they have been established. By their means, working men are enabled to secure the results of economy at a comparatively small cost. For, mutual assurance is economy in its most economical form; and merely presents another illustration of that power of co-operation which is working out such extraordinary results in all departments of society, and is in fact but another name for Civilization.

Many persons object to Friendly Societies because they are conducted at public-houses; because many of them are got up by the keepers of public-houses in order to obtain custom from the members; and because, in their fortnightly meetings to pay their subscriptions, they acquire the pernicious habit of drinking, and thus waste quite as much as they save. The Friendly Societies doubtless rely very much on the social element. The public-house is everybody's house. The members can there meet together, talk together, and drink together. It is extremely probable that had they trusted solely to the sense of duty—the duty of insuring against sickness—and merely required the members to pay their weekly contributions to a collector, very few societies of the kind would have remained in existence. In a large number of cases, there is practically no choice between the society that meets at a public-house, and none at all.

It so happens that the world cannot be conducted on superfine principles. To most men, and especially to the men we are speaking of, it is a rough, working world, conducted on common principles, such as will wear. To some it may seem vulgar to associate beer, tobacco, or feasting with the pure and simple duty of effecting an insurance against disablement by sickness; but the world we live in is vulgar, and we must take it as we find it, and try to make the best of it. It must be admitted that the tendencies to pure good in man are very weak, and need much helping. But the expedient, vulgar though it be, of attracting him through his appetite for meat and drink to perform a duty to himself and neighbours, is by no means confined to societies of working men. There is scarcely a London charity or institution but has its annual dinner for the purpose of attracting subscribers. Are we to condemn the eighteenpenny annual dinner of the poor man, but excuse the guinea one of the rich?

A vigorous effort was made by Mr. Akroyd of Halifax, in 1856, to establish a Provident Sick Society and Penny Savings Bank for the working men in the West Riding of Yorkshire. An organization was set on foot with these objects; and though the Penny Bank proved a complete success, the Provident Society proved a complete failure. Mr. Akroyd thus explains the causes of the failure: "We found the ground preoccupied," he says, "by Friendly Societies, especially by the Odd Fellows, Druids, Foresters, etc.; and against their principles of self-government, mutual check against fraud, and brotherhood, no new and independent society can compete. Our rates were also of necessity much higher than theirs, and this was perhaps one of the chief causes of our failure."

Low rates of contribution have been the principal cause of the failure of Friendly Societies.[1] It was of course natural that the members, being persons of limited means, should endeavour to secure the objects of their organization at the lowest cost. They therefore fixed their rates as low as possible; and, as the results proved, they in most cases fixed them too low. So long as the societies consisted, for the most part, of young, healthy men, and the average amount of sickness remained low, the payments made seemed ample. The funds accumulated, and many flattered themselves that their societies were in a prosperous state, when they contained the sure elements of decay. For, as the members grew older, their average liability to sickness was regularly increasing. The effects of increased age upon the solvency of benefit clubs soon becoming known, young men avoided the older societies, and preferred setting up organizations of their own. The consequence was, that the old men began to draw upon their reserves at the same time that the regular contributions fell off; and when, as was frequently the case, a few constantly ailing members kept pressing upon the society, the funds were at length exhausted, "the box" was declared to be closed, and the society was broken up. The real injustice was done to the younger men who remained in the society. After paying their contributions for many years, they found, when sickness at length fell upon them, that the funds had been exhausted, by expenditure for superannuation and other allowances, which were not provided for by the rules of the society.

[Footnote 1: The Registrar of Friendly Societies, in his report for 1859, states that from 1793 to 1858, the number of societies enrolled and certified had been 28,550, of which 6,850 had ceased to exist. The causes of failure in most cases were reported to be, inadequacy of the rates of contribution, the granting of pensions as well as sick pay, and no increase of young members. The dissolution of a society, however, is frequently effected with a view of remodelling it, and starting afresh under better regulations, and with rates of premium such as increased knowledge has shown to be necessary for the risks which they have to incur.]

Even the best of the Benefit Societies have been slow to learn the essential importance of adequate rates of contribution, to enable them to fulfil their obligations and ensure their continued usefulness as well as solvency. The defect of most of them consists in their trying to do too much with too little means. The benefits paid out are too high for the rates of contribution paid in. Those who come first are served, but those who come late too often find an empty box. Not only have the rates of payment been generally fixed too low, but there has been little or no discrimination in the selection of members. Men advanced in years and of fragile health are often admitted on the same terms as the young and the healthy, the only difference being in the rate of entry money. Even young lodges, which start with inadequate rates, instead of growing stronger, gradually grow weaker; and in the event of a few constantly ailing members falling upon the funds, they soon become exhausted, and the lodge becomes bankrupt and is broken up. Such has been the history of thousands of Friendly Societies, doing good and serving a useful purpose in their time, but short-lived, ephemeral, and to many of their members disappointing, and even deceptive.

Attempts have been recently made—more especially by the officers of the Manchester Unity of Odd Fellows—to improve the financial condition of their society. Perhaps the best proof of the desire that exists on the part of the leading minds in the Unity to bring the organization into a state of financial soundness, is to be found in the fact that the Board of Management have authorized the publication of the best of all data for future guidance,—namely, the actual sickness experience of the Order. An elaborate series of tables has accordingly been prepared and published for their information by Mr. Ratcliffe, the corresponding secretary, at an expense of about L3,500. In the preface to the last edition it is stated that "this sum has not been abstracted from the funds set apart for relief during sickness, for assurances at death, or for providing for necessitous widows and orphans, but from the management funds of the lodges—funds which, being generally raised by direct levy on the members, are not therefore readily expended without careful consideration on the part of those most interested in the character and welfare of their cherished institution."

We believe that time and experience will enable the leaders of Friendly Societies generally to improve them, and introduce new ameliorations. The best institutions are things of slow growth, and are shaped by experience, which includes failures as well as successes; and finally, they require age to strengthen them and root them in habit. The rudest society established by working men for mutual help in sickness, independent of help from private charity or the poor-rates, is grounded on a right spirit, and is deserving of every encouragement. It furnishes a foundation on which to build up something better. It teaches self-reliance, and thus cultivates amongst the humblest classes habits of provident economy.

Friendly Societies began their operations before there was any science of vital statistics to guide them; and if they have made mistakes in mutual assurance, they have not stood alone. Looking at the difficulties they have had to encounter, they are entitled to be judged charitably. Good advice given them in a kindly spirit will not fail to produce good results. The defects which are mixed up with them are to be regarded as but the transient integument which will most probably fall away as the flower ripens and the fruit matures.



CHAPTER VIII.

SAVINGS BANKS.

"I wish I could write all across the sky, in letters of gold, the one word SAVINGS BANK."—Rev. Win. Marsh.

"The only true secret of assisting the poor is to make them agents in bettering their own condition."—Archbishop Sumner.

"Qui a vingt ne sait, a trente ne peut, a quarante n'a,—jamais ne saura, ne pourra, n'aura."—French Proverb.

"Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest."—Proverbs vi. 6.

It is said that there is a skeleton in every household. The skeleton is locked up—put away in a cupboard—- and rarely seen. Only the people inside the house know of its existence. But the skeleton, nevertheless, cannot long be concealed. It comes to light in some way or another. The most common skeleton is Poverty. Poverty, says Douglas Jerrold, is the great secret, kept at any pains by one-half the world from the other half. When there is nothing laid by—nothing saved to relieve sickness when it comes—nothing to alleviate the wants of old age,—this is the skeleton hid away in many a cupboard.

In a country such as this, where business is often brought to a standstill by over-trading and over-speculation, many masters, clerks, and workpeople are thrown out of employment. They must wait until better times come round. But in the meantime, how are they to live? If they have accumulated no savings, and have nothing laid by, they are comparatively destitute.

Even the Co-operative Cotton-mills, or Co-operative Banks, which are nothing more than Joint-stock Companies, Limited,[1] may become bankrupt. They may not be able, as was the case during the cotton famine, to compete with large capitalists in the purchase of cotton, or in the production of cotton twist. Co-operative companies established for the purpose of manufacturing, are probably of too speculative a character to afford much lasting benefit to the working classes; and it seems that by far the safer course for them to pursue, in times such as the present, is by means of simple, direct saving. There may be less chance of gain, but there is less risk of loss. What is laid by is not locked up and contingent for its productiveness upon times and trade, but is steadily accumulating, and is always ready at hand for use when the pinch of adversity occurs.

[Footnote 1: "The new cotton factories which have been called co-operative, and which, under that name, have brought together large numbers of shareholders of the wage classes, are all now in reality common joint-stock companies, with limited liability. The so-called co-operative shareholders in the leading establishments decided, as I am informed, by large majorities, that the workers should only be paid wages in the ordinary manner, and should not divide profits. The wages being for piecework, it was held that the payment was in accordance with communistic principle, 'each according to his capacity, each according to his work.' The common spinner had had no share in the work of the general direction, nor had he evinced any of the capacity of thrift or foresight of the capitalist, and why should he share profits as if he had? The wage class, in their capacity of shareholders, decided that it was an unjust claim upon their profits, and kept them undivided to themselves."—Edwin Chadwick, C.B.]

Mr. Bright stated in the House of Commons, in 1860,[2] that the income of the working classes was "understated at three hundred and twelve millions a year." Looking at the increase of wages which has taken place during the last fifteen years, their income must now amount to at least four hundred millions.

[Footnote 2: Speech on the Representation of the People Bill.]

Surely, out of this large fund of earnings, the working classes might easily save from thirty to forty millions yearly. At all events, they might save such an amount as, if properly used and duly economized, could not fail to establish large numbers of them in circumstances of comfort and even of comparative wealth.

The instances which we have already cited of persons in the humbler ranks of life having by prudential forethought accumulated a considerable store of savings for the benefit of their families, and as a stay for their old age, need not by any means be the comparatively exceptional cases that they are now. What one well-regulated person is able to do, others, influenced by similar self-reliant motives, and practising like sobriety and frugality, might with equal ease and in one way or another accomplish. A man who has more money about him than he requires for current purposes, is tempted to spend it. To use the common phrase, it is apt to "burn a hole in his pocket." He may be easily entrapped into company; and where his home provides but small comfort, the public-house, with its bright fire, is always ready to welcome him.

It often happens that workmen lose their employment in "bad times." Mercantile concerns become bankrupt, clerks are paid off, and servants are dismissed when their masters can no longer employ them. If the disemployed people have been in the habit of regularly consuming all their salaries and wages, without laying anything by, their case is about the most pitiable that can be imagined. But if they have saved something, at home or in the savings bank, they will be enabled to break their fall. They will obtain some breathing-time, before they again fall into employment. Suppose they have as much as ten pounds saved. It may seem a very little sum, yet in distress it amounts to much. It may even prove a man's passport to future independence.

With ten pounds a workman might remove from one district to another where employment is more abundant. With ten pounds, he might emigrate to Canada or the United States, where his labour might be in request. Without this little store of savings, he might be rooted to his native spot, like a limpet to the rock. If a married man with a family, his ten pounds would save his home from wreckage, and his household from destitution. His ten pounds would keep the wolf from the door until better times came round. Ten pounds would keep many a servant-girl from ruin, give her time to recruit her health, perhaps wasted by hard work, and enable her to look about for a suitable place, instead of rushing into the first that offered.

We do not value money for its own sake, and we should be the last to encourage a miserly desire to hoard amongst any class; but we cannot help recognizing in money the means of life, the means of comfort, the means of maintaining an honest independence. We would therefore recommend every young man and every young woman to begin life by learning to save; to lay up for the future a certain portion of every week's earnings, be it little or much; to avoid consuming every week or every year the earnings of that week or year; and we counsel them to do this, as they would avoid the horrors of dependence, destitution, or beggary. We would have men and women of every class able to help themselves—relying upon their own resources—upon their own savings; for it is a true saying that "a penny in the purse is better than a friend at court." The first penny saved is a step in the world. The fact of its being saved and laid by, indicates self-denial, forethought, prudence, wisdom. It may be the germ of future happiness. It may be the beginning of independence.

Cobbett was accustomed to scoff at the "bubble" of Savings Banks, alleging that it was an insult to people to tell them that they had anything to save. Yet the extent to which savings banks have been used, even by the humblest classes, proves that he was as much mistaken in this as he was in many of the views which he maintained. There are thousands of persons who would probably never have thought of laying by a penny, but for the facility of the savings bank: it would have seemed so useless to try. The small hoard in the cupboard was too ready at hand, and would have become dissipated before it accumulated to any amount; but no sooner was a place of deposit provided, where sums as small as a shilling could be put away, than people hastened to take advantage of it.

The first savings bank was started by Miss Priscilla Wakefield, in the parish of Tottenham, Middlesex, towards the close of last century,—her object being mainly to stimulate the frugality of poor children. The experiment proved so successful that in 1799 the Rev. Joseph Smith, of Wendon, commenced a plan of receiving small sums from his parishioners during summer, and returning them at Christmas, with the addition of one-third as a stimulus to prudence and forethought. Miss Wakefield, in her turn, followed Mr. Smith's example, and in 1804 extended the plan of her charitable bank, so as to include adult labourers, female servants, and others. A similar institution was formed at Bath, in 1808, by several ladies of that city; and about the same time Mr. Whitbread proposed to Parliament the formation of a national institution, "in the nature of a bank, for the use and advantage of the labouring classes alone;" but nothing came of his proposal.

It was not until the Rev. Henry Duncan, the minister of Ruthwell, a poor parish in Dumfriesshire, took up the subject, that the savings-bank system may be said to have become fairly inaugurated. The inhabitants of that parish were mostly poor cottagers, whose average wages did not amount to more than eight shillings a week. There were no manufactures in the district, nor any means of subsistence for the population, except what was derived from the land under cultivation; and the landowners were for the most part non-resident. It seemed a very unlikely place in which to establish a bank for savings, where the poor people were already obliged to strain every nerve to earn a bare living, to provide the means of educating their children (for, however small his income, the Scottish peasant almost invariably contrives to save something wherewith to send his children to school), and to pay their little contributions to the friendly society of the parish. Nevertheless, the minister resolved, as a help to his spiritual instructions, to try the experiment.

Not many labouring men may apprehend the deep arguments of the religious teacher, but the least intelligent can appreciate a bit of practical advice that tells on the well-being of his household as well as on the labourer's own daily comfort and self-respect. Dr. Duncan knew that, even in the poorest family, there were odds and ends of income apt to be frittered away in unnecessary expenditure. He saw some thrifty cottagers using the expedient of a cow, or a pig, or a bit of garden-ground, as a savings bank,—finding their return of interest in the shape of butter and milk, winter's bacon, or garden produce; and it occurred to him that there were other villagers, single men and young women, for whom some analogous mode of storing away their summer's savings might be provided, and a fair rate of interest returned upon their little investments.

Hence originated the parish savings bank of Ruthwell, the first self-supporting institution of the kind established in this country. That the minister was not wrong in his anticipations, was proved by the fact that, in the course of four years, the funds of his savings bank amounted to nearly a thousand pounds. And if poor villagers out of eight shillings a week, and female labourers and servants out of much less, could lay aside this sum,—what might not mechanics, artizans, miners, and iron-workers accomplish, who earn from thirty to fifty shillings a week all the year round?

The example set by Dr. Duncan was followed in many towns and districts in England and Scotland. In every instance the model of the Ruthwell parish bank was followed; and the self-sustaining principle was adopted. The savings banks thus instituted, were not eleemosynary institutions, nor dependent upon anybody's charity or patronage; but their success rested entirely with the depositors themselves. They encouraged the industrious classes to rely upon their own resources, to exercise forethought and economy in the conduct of life, to cherish self-respect and self-dependence, and to provide for their comfort and maintenance in old age, by the careful use of the products of their industry, instead of having to rely for aid upon the thankless dole of a begrudged poor-rate.

The establishment of savings banks with these objects, at length began to be recognized as a matter of national concern; and in 1817 an Act was passed which served to increase their number and extend their usefulness. Various measures have since been adopted with the object of increasing their efficiency and security. But notwithstanding the great good which these institutions have accomplished, it is still obvious that the better-paid classes of workpeople avail themselves of them to only a very limited extent. A very small portion of the four hundred millions estimated to be annually earned by the working classes finds its way to the savings bank, while at least twenty times the amount is spent annually at the beershop and the public-house.

It is not the highly-paid class of working men and women who invest money in the savings banks; but those who earn comparatively moderate incomes. Thus the most numerous class of depositors in the Manchester and Salford Savings Bank is that of domestic servants. After them rank clerks, shopmen, porters, and miners. Only about a third part of the deposits belong to the operatives, artizans, and mechanics. It is the same in manufacturing districts generally. A few years since, it was found that of the numerous female depositors at Dundee, only one was a factory worker: the rest were for the most part servants.

There is another fact that is remarkable. The habit of saving does not so much prevail in those counties where wages are the highest, as in those counties where wages are the lowest. Previous to the era of Post Office Savings Banks, the inhabitants of Wilts and Dorset—where wages are about the lowest in England—deposited more money in the savings banks, per head of the population, than they did in Lancashire and Yorkshire, where wages are about the highest in England. Taking Yorkshire itself, and dividing it into manufacturing and agricultural,—the manufacturing inhabitants of the West Riding of York invested about twenty-five shillings per head of the population in the savings banks; whilst the agricultural population of the East Riding invested about three times that amount.

Private soldiers are paid much less wages per week than the lowest-paid workmen, and yet they put more money in the savings banks than workmen who are paid from thirty to forty shillings a week. Soldiers are generally supposed to be a particularly thoughtless class. Indeed, they are sometimes held up to odium as reckless and dissolute; but the Military Savings Bank Returns refute the vilification, and prove that the British soldier is as sober, well-disciplined, and frugal, as we already know him to be brave. Most people forget that the soldier must be obedient, sober, and honest. If he is a drunkard, he is punished; if he is dishonest, he is drummed out of the regiment.

Wonderful is the magic of Drill! Drill means discipline, training, education. The first drill of every people is military. It has been the first education of nations. The duty of obedience is thus taught on a large scale,—submission to authority; united action under a common head. These soldiers,—who are ready to march steadily against vollied fire, against belching cannon, up fortress heights, or to beat their heads against bristling bayonets, as they did at Badajos,—were once tailors, shoemakers, mechanics, delvers, weavers, and ploughmen; with mouths gaping, shoulders stooping, feet straggling, arms and hands like great fins hanging by their sides; but now their gait is firm and martial, their figures are erect, and they march along, to the sound of music, with a tread that makes the earth shake. Such is the wonderful power of drill.

Nations, as they become civilized, adopt other methods of discipline. The drill becomes industrial. Conquest and destruction give place to production in many forms. And what trophies Industry has won, what skill has it exercised, what labours has it performed! Every industrial process is performed by drilled bands of artizans. Go into Yorkshire and Lancashire, and you will find armies of drilled labourers at work, where the discipline is perfect, and the results, as regards the amount of manufactured productions turned out of hand, are prodigious.

On efficient drilling and discipline, men's success as individuals, and as societies entirely depends. The most self-dependent man is under discipline,—and the more perfect the discipline, the more complete his condition. A man must drill his desires, and keep them under subjection,—he must obey the word of command, otherwise he is the sport of passion and impulse. The religions man's life is full of discipline and self-restraint. The man of business is entirely subject to system and rule. The happiest home is that where the discipline is the most perfect, and yet where it is the least felt. We at length become subject to it as to a law of Nature, and while it binds us firmly, yet we feel it not. The force of Habit is but the force of Drill.

One dare scarcely hint, in these days, at the necessity for compulsory conscription; and yet, were the people at large compelled to pass through the discipline of the army, the country would be stronger, the people would be soberer, and thrift would become much more habitual than it is at present.

Military savings banks were first suggested by Paymaster Fairfowl in 1816; and about ten years later the question was again raised by Colonel Oglander, of the 26th Foot (Cameronians). The subject was brought under the notice of the late Duke of Wellington, and negatived; the Duke making the following memorandum on the subject: "There is nothing that I know of to prevent a soldier, equally with others of His Majesty's subjects, from investing his money in savings banks. If there be any impediment, it should be taken away; but I doubt the expediency of going further."

The idea, however, seems to have occurred to the Duke, that the proposal to facilitate the saving of money by private soldiers might be turned to account in the way of a reduction in the army expenditure, and he characteristically added: "Has a soldier more pay than he requires? If he has, it should be lowered, not to those now in the service, but to those enlisted hereafter." No one, however, could allege that the pay of the private soldier was excessive, and it was not likely that any proposal to lower it would be entertained.

The subject of savings banks for the army was allowed to rest for a time, but by the assistance of Sir James McGregor and Lord Howick a scheme was at length approved and finally established in 1842. The result has proved satisfactory in an eminent degree, and speaks well for the character of the British soldier. It appears from a paper presented to the House of Commons some years ago,—giving the details of the savings effected by the respective corps,—that the men of the Royal Artillery had saved over twenty-three thousand pounds, or an average of sixteen pounds to each depositor. These savings were made out of a daily pay of one and threepence and a penny for beer-money, or equal to about nine and sixpence a week, subject to sundry deductions for extra clothing. Again, the men of the Royal Engineers—mostly drawn from the skilled mechanical class—had saved nearly twelve thousand pounds, or an average of about twenty pounds for each depositor. The Twenty-sixth regiment of the line (Cameronians), whose pay was a shilling a day and a penny for beer, saved over four thousand pounds. Two hundred and fifty men of the first battalion, or one-third of the corps, were depositors in the savings bank, and their savings amounted to about seventeen pounds per man.

But this is not all. Private soldiers, out of their small earnings, are accustomed to remit considerable sums through the post office, to their poor relations at home. In one year, twenty-two thousand pounds were thus sent from Aldershot,—the average amount of each money order being twenty-one shillings and fourpence. And if men with seven shillings and seven-pence a week can do so much, what might not skilled workmen do, whose earnings amount to from two to three pounds a week?

Soldiers serving abroad during arduous campaigns have proved themselves to be equally thoughtful and provident. During the war in the Crimea, the soldiers and seamen sent home through the money order office seventy-one thousand pounds, and the army works corps thirty-five thousand pounds. More than a year before the money order system was introduced at Scutari, Miss Nightingale took charge of the soldiers' savings. She found them most willing to abridge their own comforts or indulgences, for the sake of others dear to them, as well as for their own future well-being; and she devoted an afternoon in every week to receiving and forwarding their savings to England. She remitted many thousand pounds in this manner, and it was distributed by a friend in London,—much of it to the remotest corners of Scotland and Ireland. And it afforded some evidence that the seed fell in good places (as well as of the punctuality of the post office), that of the whole number of remittances, all but one were duly acknowledged.

Again, there is not a regiment returning from India but brings home with it a store of savings. In the year 1860, after the Indian mutiny, more than twenty thousand pounds were remitted on account of invalided men sent back to England; besides which there were eight regiments which brought home balances to their credits in the regimental banks amounting to L40.499.[1] The highest was the Eighty-fourth, whose savings amounted to L9,718. The Seventy-Eighth (Ross-shire Buffs), the heroes who followed Havelock in his march on Lucknow, saved L6,480; and the gallant Thirty-second, who held Lucknow under Inglis, saved L5,263. The Eighty-sixth, the first battalion of the Tenth, and the Ninth Dragoons, all brought home an amount of savings indicative of providence and forethought, which reflected the highest honour upon them as men as well as soldiers.[2]

[Footnote 1: The sum sent home by soldiers serving in India for the benefit of friends and relatives are not included in these amounts, the remittances being made direct by the paymasters of regiments, and not through the savings banks.]

[Footnote 2: The amount of the Fund for Military Savings Banks on the 5th of January, 1876, was L338,350.]

And yet the private soldiers do not deposit all their savings in the military savings banks,—especially when they can obtain access to an ordinary savings bank. We are informed that many of the household troops stationed in London deposit their spare money in the savings banks rather than in the regimental banks; and when the question was on a recent occasion asked as to the cause, the answer given was, "I would not have my sergeant know that I was saving money." But in addition to this, the private soldier would rather that his comrades did not know that he was saving money; for the thriftless soldier, like the thriftless workman, when he has spent everything of his own, is very apt to set up a kind of right to borrow from the fund of his more thrifty comrade.

The same feeling of suspicion frequently prevents workmen depositing money in the ordinary savings bank. They do not like it to be known to their employers that they are saving money, being under the impression that it might lead to attempts to lower their wages. A working man in a town in Yorkshire, who had determined to make a deposit in the savings bank, of which his master was a director, went repeatedly to watch at the door of the bank before he could ascertain that his master was absent; and he only paid in his money, after several weeks' waiting, when ne had assured himself of this fact.

The miners at Bilston, at least such of them as put money in the savings bank, were accustomed to deposit it in other names than their own. Nor were they without reason. For some of their employers were actually opposed to the institution of savings banks,—fearing lest the workmen might apply their savings to their maintenance during a turn-out; not reflecting that they have the best guarantee of the steadiness of this class of men, in their deposits at the savings bank. Mr. Baker, Inspector of Factories, has said that "the supreme folly of a strike is shown by the fact that there is seldom or never a rich workman at the head of it."

A magistrate at Bilston, not connected with the employment of workmen, has mentioned the following case. "I prevailed," he says, "upon a workman to begin a deposit in the savings bank. He came most unwillingly. His deposits were small, although I knew his gains to be great. I encouraged him by expressing satisfaction at the course he was taking. His deposits became greater; and at the end of five years he drew out the fund he had accumulated, bought a piece of land, and has built a house upon it. I think if I had not spoken to him, the whole amount would have been spent in feasting or clubs, or contributions to the trades unions. That man's eyes are now open—his social position is raised—he sees and feels as we do, and will influence others to follow his example."

From what we have said, it will be obvious that there can be no doubt as to the ability of a large proportion of the better-paid classes of working men to lay by a store of savings. When they set their minds upon any object, they have no difficulty in finding the requisite money. A single town in Lancashire contributed thirty thousand pounds to support their fellow-workmen when on strike in an adjoining town. At a time when there are no strikes, why should they not save as much money on their own account, for their own permanent comfort? Many workmen already save with this object; and what they do, all might do. We know of one large mechanical establishment,—situated in an agricultural district, where the temptations to useless expenditure are few,—in which nearly all the men are habitual economists, and have saved sums varying from two hundred to five hundred pounds each.

Many factory operatives, with their families, might easily lay by from five to ten shillings a week, which in a few years would amount to considerable sums. At Darwen, only a short time ago, an operative drew his savings out of the bank to purchase a row of cottages, now become his property. Many others, in the same place, and in the neighbouring towns, are engaged in building cottages for themselves, some by means of their contributions to building societies, and others by means of their savings accumulated in the bank.

A respectably dressed working man, when making a payment one day at the Bradford savings bank, which brought his account up to nearly eighty pounds, informed the manager how it was that he had been induced to become a depositor. He had been a drinker; but one day accidentally finding his wife's savings bank deposit book, from which he learnt that she had laid by about twenty pounds, he said to himself, "Well now, if this can be done while I am spending, what might we do if both were saving?" The man gave up his drinking, and became one of the most respectable persons of his class. "I owe it all," he said, "to my wife and the savings bank."

When well-paid workmen such as these are able to accumulate a sufficient store of savings, they ought gradually to give up hard work, and remove from the field of competition as old age comes upon them. They ought also to give place to younger men; and prevent themselves being beaten down into the lower-paid ranks of labour. After sixty a man's physical powers fail him; and by that time he ought to have made provision for his independent maintenance. Nor are the instances by any means uncommon, of workmen laying by money with this object, and thereby proving what the whole class might, to a greater or less extent, accomplish in the same direction.

The extent to which Penny Banks have been used by the very poorest classes, wherever started, affords a striking illustration how much may be done by merely providing increased opportunities for the practice of thrift. The first Penny Bank was started in Greenock, about thirty years since, as an auxiliary to the savings bank. The object of the projector (Mr. J.M. Scott) was to enable poor persons, whose savings amounted to less than a shilling (the savings bank minimum) to deposit them in a safe place. In one year about five thousand depositors placed L1,580 with the Greenock institution. The estimable Mr. Queckett, a curate in the east end of London, next opened a Penny Bank, and the results were very remarkable. In one year as many as 14,513 deposits were made in the bank. The number of depositors was limited to 2,000; and the demand for admission was so great that there were usually many waiting until vacancies occurred.

"Some save for their rent," said Mr. Queckett, "others for clothes and apprenticing their children; and various are the little objects to which the savings are to be applied. Every repayment passes through my own hands, which gives an opportunity of hearing of sickness, or sorrow, or any other cause which compels the withdrawal of the little fund. It is, besides, a feeder to the larger savings banks, to which many are turned over when the weekly payments tendered exceed the usual sum. Many of those who could at first scarcely advance beyond a penny a week, can now deposit a silver coin of some kind."