It may seem out of keeping to compare great producers with great commanders. Yet the manufacturer often requires as much courage, as much genius, as much organizing power, as the warrior. The one considers how he shall keep his operatives in working order; the other how he shall keep his soldiers in fighting order. Both must be men of enterprize, of boldness, of keen observation, and close attention to details. And the manufacturer, from his position, needs to be the most benevolent man of the two. Viewed in this light, we regard Sir Titus Salt not only as a Captain of Industry, but as a Field-Marshal of Industry. He has been called the Prince of Manufacturers.

Titus Salt is a son of a Yorkshire wool-stapler. In the early part of his life he was a farmer near Bradford, and his inclination for agricultural pursuits was such, that it was thought he would continue to pursue this vocation. Being, however, a partner with his father in the wool business, and observing that manufactures were rapidly extending in the neighbourhood, he withdrew from the partnership, and commenced business at Bradford as a wool-spinner. He was one of the first to observe the uses of Alpaca wool. Large quantities of that material were stored at Liverpool,—imported from the Brazils. But the wool found no purchasers, until at length Mr. Salt bought a quantity, and spun it into an entirely new fabric. He then proceeded to buy up all the Alpaca that was to be found at Liverpool; made arrangements for purchasing all that came into the market; went on spinning Alpaca; and eventually established the manufacture. This was the foundation of Mr. Salt's fortune.

At length, after about twenty years' labour as a manufacturer, Mr. Salt thought of retiring from business, and again betaking himself to his favourite agricultural pursuits. He intended to retire on his fiftieth birthday, but before that time had arrived (having five sons to provide for) he reversed his decision, and resolved to continue in business a little longer, and to remain at the head of the firm. Having come to this determination, he made up his mind to leave Bradford. The borough was already overcrowded, and he did not like to be a party to increasing the population. He looked about for a site suitable for a manufacturing establishment, and at length fixed upon a large piece of ground in the beautiful valley of the Aire. An extension of the Leeds and Bradford Railway was in front, and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal behind it, so that there was every convenience for bringing up the raw materials, and of sending away the manufactured goods. On that spot Saltaire was erected—a noble monument of private enterprise, liberality, and wisdom.

It is not necessary to describe Saltaire. The buildings connected with the new works cover six and a half acres. The principal room is five hundred and fifty feet long. The weaving shed covers two acres. The combing shed occupies one acre. Everything is large, roomy, and substantial. The cost of constructing the factory, and the dwellings for the workpeople, amounted to more than a hundred and forty thousand pounds.

On the opening day, Mr. Salt dined three thousand five hundred persons in the combing shed. At the dinner, he said: "I cannot look around me, and see this vast assemblage of friends and workpeople, without being moved. I feel greatly honoured by the presence of the nobleman at my side. I am especially delighted at the presence of my workpeople.... I hope to draw around me a population that will enjoy the beauties of this neighbourhood,—a population of well-paid, contented, happy operatives. I have given instructions to my architects that nothing is to be spared to render the dwellings of the operatives a pattern to the country; and if my life is spared by Divine Providence, I hope to see satisfaction, contentment, and happiness around me."

This promise has been amply fulfilled. Mr. Salt has been influenced throughout by his sense of duty and responsibility. When he was applied to by the French Government for information as to his factory, he replied: "What has been attempted at Saltaire arose from my own private feeling and judgment, without the most remote idea that it would be made the subject of public interest and inquiry." With respect to the factory itself, little need be said. The object of its construction is to save time in the process of production. Not a minute is lost in pushing the material from one department to another. Every horse-power of steam is made to do its utmost, every moment of time is economized, and the productive capabilities of the factory are thus greatly increased.

We prefer to speak of the immense improvement which Mr. Salt, or rather Sir Titus Salt, has effected in the physical and moral condition of his workpeople. The plan of the works shows that Saltaire has been provided with a church, a Wesleyan chapel, and a Literary and Philosophical Institution. Large schools have been provided for boys, girls, and infants, with abundance of play-ground. For young men as well as old, there is a cricket-ground, bowling-green, and croquet-lawn, surrounded by pleasure-grounds. There is also a large dining-hall, baths and washhouses, a dispensary, and almshouses for pensioners.

About three thousand persons are employed in the works; and seven hundred and fifty-six houses have been erected for their accommodation. The rents run from two and fourpence to seven and sixpence a week, according to the accommodation. Some of the houses are used as boarding-houses. The rents include rates and water supply, and gas is sold at a low price. The cottages are built of stone, lined with brickwork. They contain a parlour or long room, a kitchen or scullery, a pantry and cellar, and three bedrooms. Each house has a separate yard, with the usual offices. The workpeople are well able to pay the rents. Single workmen earn from twenty-four to thirty-five shillings a week. A family, consisting of a father and six children, earn four pounds four shillings a week, or equal to a united income of over two hundred and twenty pounds a year.

The comfortable houses provided for the workpeople have awakened in them that home feeling which has led them to decorate their dwellings neatly and tastefully,—a sure sign of social happiness. Every visitor among the poor knows how such things combine to prevent vice and disease, to elevate the moral tone of working people, and to develope their intellectual powers. A man in a dirty house, says Mr. Rhind, the medical attendant at Saltaire, is like a beggar in miserable clothing. He soon ceases to have self-respect, and when that is gone there is but little hope.

Great attention is paid in Saltaire to education, even of the higher sort. There are day schools, night schools, mutual improvement classes, lectures, and discussions. Music—one of the most humanizing of pleasures—is one of the most favourite studies. "In almost every house in the town some form of musical instrument is found; and indeed, the choral and glee societies, together with the bands, have become household names." There is one full brass band for men, and another drum-and-fife band for boys; and concerts, vocal and instrumental, are regularly given by the workpeople in the dining-hall. The bands have instructors provided by the firm.

Besides taking part in the musical performances, a large number of the skilled workmen devote their leisure hours to various scientific amusements,—such as natural history, taxidermy, the making of philosophical instruments, such as air-pumps, models of working machinery, steam-engines, and articles of domestic comfort,—while some have even manufactured organs and other musical instruments.

There is no drinking-house in Saltaire, so that the vices and diseases associated with drunkenness are excluded from the locality. The diseases peculiar to poverty are also unknown in Saltaire. Everything is attended to—drainage, cleansing, and ventilation. There are baths of all kinds—plunge baths, warm baths, Turkish baths, and douche baths; and the wash-house, to enable the women to wash their clothes away from their cottages, is a great accommodation,—inasmuch as indoor washing is most pernicious, and a fruitful source of disease, especially to the young.

The workpeople are also thrifty. They invest their savings in the Penny Bank and Saving's Bank; whilst others invest in various building societies, gas companies, and other lucrative undertakings. In fact, they seem to be among the most favoured of human beings. With every convenience and necessity, as well as every proper pleasure provided for them,—with comfortable homes, and every inducement to stay at home,—with fishing clubs, boating clubs, and cricket clubs,—with schoolrooms, literary institutions, lecture-hall, museum, and class-rooms, established in their midst; and to crown all, with a beautiful temple for the worship of God,—there is no wonder that Saltaire has obtained a name, and that Sir Titus Salt has established a reputation among his fellow-men.

There are large numbers of employers who treat their workpeople quite as generously, though not in such a princely manner, as Sir Titus Salt. They pay the uniform rate of wages; help and encourage the employed to economize their surplus earnings; establish Savings Banks and Penny Banks for their use; assist them in the formation of co-operative associations for the purchase of pure food at a cheaper rate; build healthy cottages for their accommodation; erect schools for the education of their children; and assist them in every method that is calculated to promote their moral and, social improvement.

Mr. Edward Akroyd, formerly M.P. for Halifax, is another manufacturer who has exercised great influence throughout Yorkshire, by his encouragement of habits of thrift amongst working people. In his own district, at Copley and Haley Hill, near Halifax, he has built numerous excellent cottages for his workmen, and encouraged them to build their own houses by investing their spare earnings in building clubs. He has established co-operative clubs, to enable the men to purchase food and clothing at cost price. He has built excellent schools at his own expense, and provided them with a paid staff of teachers. He has built and endowed the very fine church of "All Souls" (Sir Gilbert Scott, architect), to which a large district, inclusive of the works, has been assigned. He has provided for his workpeople, both at Haley Hill and Copley, a Literary and Scientific Society, a Mutual Improvement Society, a Working Men's Library (to which he has presented more than five thousand books), a Working Men's Club and Newsroom, a Choral Society, supplied with an excellent library of music; a Recreation Club, provided with a bowling green; and a cricket ground, with quoits, and gymnastic apparatus, Mr. Akroyd has also allotted a large field to his workmen, dividing it into small gardens varying from a hundred to two hundred and forty square yards each. The small rent charged for each plot is distributed in prizes given at an annual flower-show held in his grounds, for the best growers of flowers, plants, and vegetables. Hence the Haley Hill Horticultural and Floral Society, one of the most thriving institutions of the kind in the neighbourhood. In short, Mr. Akroyd has done everything that a wise and conscientious master could have done, for the purpose of promoting the moral and spiritual welfare of the four thousand persons employed in his manufactories, who have been virtually committed to his charge.

But although Mr. Akroyd has done so much as a master for the men and women employed by him, he has perhaps done still more as a public benefactor by establishing the Yorkshire Penny Bank for Savings. As early as the year 1852, Mr. Akroyd instituted a Savings Bank to enable his workpeople to deposit sums of from one penny upwards. The system was found to work so well, and to have such a beneficial effect in making people provident, that he conceived the idea of extending its operations throughout the West Riding of Yorkshire. Having obtained the co-operation of several influential gentlemen, the scheme was started in 1856, and an Act of Parliament was obtained for constituting the Yorkshire Penny Savings Bank as it now exists.

Mr. Akroyd has recently furnished an Introduction to the narrative of the Yorkshire Penny Bank, from which we extract the following passage:—

"The way by which thoughts, or chance suggestions, enter into the minds of men, is sometimes passing strange! They may be the offspring of wayward fancy; or they may be the whisperings from a higher source. To the latter cause I am willing to attribute the idea which flashed across my mind during the present year to give to the public something beyond the bare outline of the scheme, in which, for years, many of them have taken a warm personal interest.

"It occurred in this wise. When in town, I occasionally attended, during Lent, the services at Whitehall Chapel, for the sake of hearing a Lenten sermon preached by one of Her Majesty's chaplains. One remarkable sermon of the series was delivered by the Rev. Charles Kingsley, on the 12th of March, on behalf of the Supplemental Ladies' Association of the London Society of Parochial Mission Women. In the sketch which the preacher gave of this excellent institution, he referred to a book entitled 'East and West,' in which the benefits derived by the London poor from the association are clearly set forth; but he dwelt chiefly on the wide separation which divides rich from poor, class from class, in London; and on the dangers which threaten Society from this cause, as was recently exemplified in France. Such was the impression made upon me by the sermon, that, before many days had elapsed, I had purchased 'East and West,' and given the book a careful perusal.

"From previous observation I had been struck with the sad contrast between the luxurious lives of those who reside at the West End of London, and the struggle for a hard, wretched existence which the crowded poor at the East, or in close purlieus elsewhere, are obliged to maintain until death closes the scene. How to bridge over the wide chasm intervening between the extremes of high and low in society, without injury to self-respect on either side, was the puzzling question, the problem to be solved. Yet, from the admirable introduction to this most useful little work, by the Countess Spencer, it appeared that a lady of high rank, and her noble-minded associates, had in some measure solved the problem, and bridged over the chasm.

"Hence I was led to reflect how much easier it is to discharge our duty to our neighbours, and to fulfil the leading object of the Parochial Mission Women Association, to 'help the poor to help themselves,' in provincial towns and in the country, where we are personally acquainted with each other, than in London, where we do not know our next-door neighbour. To help the poor to help themselves is the cardinal principle of the Yorkshire Penny Bank."[1]

[Footnote 1 e Yorkshire Penny Bank, a Narrative; with an Introduction by Edward Akroyd, M.P.]

The business of the bank commenced on the 1st of May, 1859. At the end of the year, when the bank had been in operation seven months, twenty-four branches had been opened. It went on increasing in the number of branches and depositors, and in the amounts deposited. In 1874, about two hundred and fifty branches had been established, and the amount of investments in the names of trustees had reached nearly four hundred thousand pounds.

The Yorkshire Penny Bank does not interfere with the Post Office Savings Bank. It has a special function, that of teaching the young of either sex the habit of saving. It is also convenient to the adult worker as a convenient receptacle for his savings. Many have been induced to save, in consequence of the banks having been brought almost to their very doors. One of the most remarkable facts connected with the history of Penny Banks is the sympathetic influence of juvenile thrift upon paternal recklessness and intemperance. The fact is well worthy the consideration of Temperance advocates, who would probably effect much greater practical good by enabling working people to save their money in the Penny Banks, than by any speech-making agency. Take, for instance, the following illustrations from Mr. Akroyd's narrative:—

An actuary says: "All the juvenile depositors seem inclined to take care of their pence by depositing them in the bank; and the grown-up people have become of the same turn of mind,—rather than carry their loose money to the public-house, or spend it foolishly. Some factory operatives have saved sufficient to buy stock and commence farming."

Another actuary says: "A drunken father being shamed out of his drunkenness by the deposits of his children, now deposits half-a-crown a week in the bank. A notoriously bad man, a collier, became a regular depositor himself, as well as depositing money in the name of his child; all his spare money having previously been spent in drink. From the date of his beginning to save, a perceptible improvement took place in his conduct and character. In another case, two boys prevailed upon their father, also a collier, to allow them to deposit a shilling a week, until they had saved sufficient to buy themselves each a suit of new clothes. Before then, all their father's earnings, as well as their own, had been spent in drink."

An actuary of another branch says he has seen fathers and mothers, who have been drunkards, send their children with money to the bank, He says: "My heart was made to rejoice when I saw a boy, who never had a suit of new clothes in his life, draw out his money, and in less than two hours return well clad, to take his place in the school to practise singing for Good Friday. At the meeting of the Band of Hope on Good Friday, he asked the parents and children to signify by holding up their hands whether or not the bank had been beneficial to them; when many hands were instantly raised,—one poor mother exclaiming, 'I will put up both my hands for my two bairns!'"

"A miner, the father of a family, reclaimed from drunkenness, saved his money in the bank until, with the aid of a loan from a building society, he built two houses at a cost of four hundred pounds. The bank has been to many people what the hive is to the bee—a kind of repository; and when the wintry days of sickness or adversity befall them, they have then the bank to flee to for succour."

A missionary says: "I met a man and his wife about two years ago—both drunk. I got them to sign the pledge, and since then to invest their money in our bank. The pawnbroker had got the greater part of their goods; but I am happy to say that they have got all the articles out of pawn, and can bring a little money almost every week to the bank; and when putting in the money, the man says that it is better than taking it to the public-house. Their home is now a very comfortable one."

A drunkard one night came to the bank, and flinging down a shilling for a start, said, "There! that is the price of six pints of beer; but I promise the landlords that they shan't have as much of my money as they have had." This man has become sober; and continues a regular depositor.

In another bank, a man who had been a reckless and desperate fellow was induced by his wife to deposit a few coppers in the bank. He did so, and his weekly deposits increased; while at the same time his visits to the public-house decreased. In the course of a short time he had a respectable balance to his credit; and this induced him to take a share in a building society, and then a second share. After continuing to pay upon these shares for some time, he purchased a piece of land, upon which he built two houses. One of these he occupies himself, and the other he lets. Besides this, he is now a respectable tradesman, having two or three journeymen and an apprentice working for him. He is sober and steady, and much respected by his friends and neighbours.

Many other cases of the same kind might be mentioned. In one case a boy saved sufficient money to buy a suit of clothes for his father, who had spent all his earnings in drink, and reduced himself and his family to poverty; in other cases, sons and daughters maintain their infirm parents without resorting to the parochial Board for assistance. Some save for one thing; some for another. Some save to emigrate; some to buy clothes; some to buy a watch; but in all cases frugality is trained, until saving becomes habitual.

One of the Yorkshire actuaries of the Penny Bank tells the following anecdote as conveying a lesson of perseverance and encouragement to branch managers. "Mr. Smith was one of our first managers, but after attending two or three times he left us, saying it was 'childish work.' My answer was, 'It is with children we have to do.' A short time after, I met him, and in the course of conversation I observed that I sometimes got down in the mouth, and did not know whether we were doing any good, and felt disposed to give up the bank; on which he warmly replied, 'For God's sake, you must not let such an idea get into your head; you little know the good you are doing; we have not a man about our place but either himself or some members of his family are depositors.'" The actuary adds, "If Colonel Akroyd ever despairs, I give him the above answer."

Savings banks have thus been the means of doing an immense amount of good. They have brought peace, happiness, and comfort into many thousands of families. The example of Mr. Akroyd should be largely imitated, and there ought not to be a county in the kingdom without its organized system of Penny Banks.



CHAPTER XI.

THE CROSSLEYS—MASTERS AND MEN (CONTINUED).

"The sense to enjoy riches, with the art T' enjoy them, and the virtue to impart."—Pope.

"My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune o' this present year."—Shakespeare.

"The roughest road often leads to the smoothest fortune."—Franklin.

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.... She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.... She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.... Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.... Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."—Proverbs of Solomon.

There are several large employers who have endeavoured to combine the principle of co-operation with the business of manufacturing; and to furnish to the men who have contributed to their past prosperity the opportunity of sharing in their future profits. The object of these masters has been to obviate the antagonism between capital and labour, and to spread the spirit of contentment among the operatives. Workmen who have saved their earnings, and stored them in savings banks, are in this manner enabled to become partners in the concerns in which they have formerly employed their labour.

The two principal manufacturing concerns of Halifax, those of James Akroyd and Son, and John Crossley and Sons, have thus become converted into joint stock companies. They have been so converted with the primary design of receiving the co-operation of the managers, workmen, and others associated with them; and with that view the directors have in all cases given them the priority in the allotment of the shares.

We have already referred to the philanthropic work accomplished by Edward Akroyd in the county of York. We have now to refer to the Crossley firm, whose carpets are known throughout the world. We refer to them with the greater pleasure, as their history contains a story which may possibly add to the interest of this book,—which, however useful, some readers may consider to be rather dull to read.

The founder of this firm was John Crossley. He belonged to an old Yorkshire family. His grandfather, who lived at King's Cross, near Halifax, was born of respectable parents, and had a good education, yet he was by no means fond of business. In fact, he spent the greater part of his time in hunting and shooting. His wife was, however, of a very different character. She was industrious, energetic, and an excellent household manager. She not only maintained herself, but her husband and her family. She did this by means of a boarding school which she kept,—one of the best in the neighbourhood of Halifax.

One of her sons, the father of John Crossley, was brought up to carpet-weaving. He learnt his business with Mr. Webster, of Clay-pits, one of whose daughters he afterwards married. John Crossley himself also became a carpet-weaver with his uncle; and when his apprenticeship was finished, he went to weave for Mr. Currer, a large carpet manufacturer at Luddenden Foot. While working at this factory, his master built a large fine house to live in. He thought he had money enough saved for the purpose, but circumstances proved that he had not. Mr. Currer told his foreman that he had kept an account of its cost until he had spent L4,000, and then he became so disgusted that he burnt the memorandum book, although the house was not nearly finished. He said "he had done all that to please a woman,"—meaning his wife. Although Mr. Currer was an excellent man of business, his wife was too fond of show, and the large fine house in which she was to live proved her husband's ruin. He died shortly after it was finished, and then the whole of his establishment was broken up.

After leaving Mr. Currer, John Crossley removed to Halifax to take the management of Mr. Job Lees' carpet manufactory in Lower George Yard, Halifax. He began to look out for a wife, and the history of his courtship is curious as well as interesting. The Crossleys seem to have had the good fortune to fall in with excellent wives; and the prosperity of the family is quite as much due to the Crossley women as to the Crossley men.

Martha Crossley, the future wife of John Crossley, was born at Folly Hall, near the Ambler Thorn Bar. Her great-grandfather, Thomas Turner, was a farmer. He lived at the Upper Scout Hall, Shibden, and the farm-house which he occupied, at the head of the Shibden Valley, is still in existence. The eldest son was brought up to his father's business. The youngest son, Abraham, was brought up to farming, weaving, and combing. He married, and had three children—Abraham, Thomas, and Martha. Abraham, the eldest, was father of Mrs. John Crossley, nee Turner.

Abraham was also brought up to farming and manufacturing; but it must be remembered that manufacturing was in those days conducted on a very much smaller scale than it is now. He afterwards went into partnership with his brother Thomas, to make worsted goods, but after his marriage the partnership was dissolved. He then became the proprietor of the Scout Farm, and there brought up his family.

Although Abraham Turner was a landed proprietor, he did not think it beneath him to allow his daughter Martha to go out to service. When about fifteen years old she went as a servant to Miss Oldfield at Warley. In that service, in her own person, she did the work of kitchenmaid, housemaid, and cook, and in addition to that, she milked four or five cows night and morning. She remained about ten years with Miss Oldfield. Her wages were at first fifteen-pence a week; after two years, they were increased to eighteen-pence; and after nine years' service, they were increased to six guineas a year. Yet during that time Martha Turner saved thirty pounds by sheer thrift.

John Crossley, the founder of the Crossley firm, and the husband of Martha Turner, was originally a carpet-weaver. One night, when working at the loom, he was taking his "drinking," and on laying down his black bottle it fell and broke. In trying to catch the bottle, he cut his arm so severely that it was thought he would have bled to death. He could not work at the loom any longer, and he was going about with his arm in a sling, when his employer, Mr. Currer, said to him, "John, do you think you could tie up a loom, as you cannot now weave?" John replied that he thought he could. He tried, and proved so expert that his master would not allow him to go back to the loom. John Crossley used to regard the accident to his arm as the turning-point in his life.

In the meantime he was going on with the business of courtship, though it was very much against the wish of the proud farmer—the father of Martha Turner. He declared that he would never allow his daughter to marry a weaver, or even a foreman of weavers. Perhaps the story of their courtship is best told in Martha's own words.

"When I went to the gate one evening, there was a young man standing there, who asked me if I wanted a sweetheart. I answered, 'Not I, marry! I want no sweethearts.' I then went into the house, and left him. I saw the same young man frequently about, but did not speak to him for years after. His name was John Crossley. When my mistress ascertained his object, she did all she could to set me against him. She told me that when she was a girl, she had gone to a boarding-school kept by a Mrs. Crossley,—that her husband's name was Tom Crossley, the grandfather of this very man that was courting me,—and that a wilder, idler scapegrace she never knew. She always said, when she saw him coming, 'There's young Crossley come again.'

"One day I received a love-letter from him, which I could now repeat word for word. I had several other suitors, but none were so persevering as John Crossley. He pressed me very much to have him. At last he sent me a letter to say that a house was vacant in Lower George Yard, close to the works he was managing, and that it was a great chance to meet with one so convenient. I told him that I was going home to spend the 5th of November, and would pass that way and look at the house, which I did. When I got home I asked my parents for their consent. They did not object much to it at the time; but I had not been at Miss Oldfield's more than a day or two, before they sent over my sister Grace to say that they would not give their consent to the match, and that if I insisted on being married to John Crossley, they would never look me in the face again.

"So soon as my sister was gone, I retired in a most distressed state of feeling to my bedroom, and opened my book that was the preparation for the sacrament, and the first place at which I opened I read these words: 'When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will take thee up.' This comforted me very much. I felt that the Lord was with me in this matter, and I could no longer doubt which was the path of duty.... I decided to accept John Crossley's offer, and we were married on the 28th day of January, 1800."

Mr. Crossley never did a better day's work than in marrying his excellent and noble wife. From that day forward she was his helper, his co-worker, his consoler. She assisted her husband in all his struggles, and in a certain sense she was the backbone of the Crossley family.

After the death of Mr. Job Lees, whose carpet manufactory he had managed, Mr. Crossley entered into partnership with two other persons, to take the plant and carry on the business. Some difference having occurred with the partners, he left the firm, and took a lease of Dean Clough Mill, where he entered into another partnership with his brother Thomas, and James Travers. There they carried on the business of worsted spinning. At the same time, John Crossley continued to spin and dye the yarns and to manage the looms of the firm which he had left. In fact, the dyeing and spinning for the old firm formed a considerable part of the business of the new one. Then came a crisis. The old firm took away their work: they sent the wool to be spun and the yarn to be dyed elsewhere. This was a great blow; but eventually it was got over by extra diligence, energy, and thrift,—Mrs. Crossley herself taking a full share in the labours and responsibility of her husband.

"In addition to the carpet making," she says in the Manuscript Memoir of her life, "we carried on the manufacture of shalloons and plainbacks, the whole of which I managed myself, so far as putting out the warps and weft, and taking in from the weavers. We had at one time as many as a hundred and sixty hand weavers on these goods. We sold the principal part of them in London. We had also about four looms making brace webs and body belts. The produce of these looms I sold principally to the Irish, who made them up into braces and hawked them about the country. I also made and stitched, with assistance, all the carpets that we sold retail. I used to get up to work by four o'clock in the morning, and being very diligent, I have usually earned two shillings before breakfast, by the time that my neighbours were coming downstairs."

The partnership of Crossley, Travers, and Crossley, lasted for twenty years. When the term had expired, the partners shared their savings; they amounted to L4,200, or fourteen hundred pounds to each. This was not a very large sum to make during twenty years' hard work; but Dean Clough Mill was then but a small concern, and each partner did his own share of handiwork in spinning, dyeing, and weaving. Mrs. Crossley says that "the fourteen hundred pounds came in very useful." In fact, it was only a beginning. John Crossley eventually bought the Dean Clough Mills out and out. He had a family of eight children to provide for; and he put his sons for the most part into his business. They followed the example of their parents, and became thrifty, useful, and honourable men.

John Crossley, the founder of the firm, has observed, that in the course of his life he was a keen observer of men and things. He says he noticed many of the failures of his neighbours in bringing up their children. Some fathers were so strict with their children, keeping them so constantly at home, and letting them see so little of the world in which they lived, that when the fathers died and the children were removed from all restraint, they came forth into the world like calves, and found everything entirely different from what they expected. Such unguided young persons, Mr. Crossley found, soon became wild, lost, and ruined. Then he observed the opposite extreme,—where the fathers indulged their children so much, that they became quite unfitted to endure the hardships of the world,—and, like a vessel that is sent to sea without a helm, they soon became stranded on the shores of life.

Hence Mr. Crossley endeavoured to steer clear of both extremes, and to give to his sons as much knowledge and experience of life as possible. When at home, he always had one of his sons near him; or when he went from home, he always took one of them with him. Thus they gained a great deal of practical knowledge of life, and knew something of the good and evil in the world; and as they grew older, they were all the better able to turn their own lives to the best account.

It is not necessary to follow the history of the Crossley family further. John Crossley died in 1837, after which the firm was conducted by John, Joseph, and Sir Francis Crossley, Bart. The latter represented the West Riding of the county of York at the time of his death, a few years ago. In 1857 he purchased a splendid piece of ground, which he presented to the Corporation of Halifax, to be used as a People's Park for ever. In the speech which he made on the occasion of presenting it, he said, amongst other things, that he had often discussed with his friend the Mayor the philosophy of money. "I recollect very well," he said, "once entering into the question with him, when I was twenty years younger than I am now, and saying that I saw a great deal of emptiness about this money-getting; that many were striving for that which they thought would make them happy, but that it was like a bubble upon the water—no sooner caught than burst.... Had I," he afterwards said, "been of noble birth, or traced my origin (like some in this room) to those who came in with William the Conqueror, however true it might be, it would not have been good, it would even be boastful to have done so.[1] But since I am of humble birth, perhaps it will be allowed me to say a little of those who ought to share the honour which is heaped upon me. My mother was the daughter of a farmer who lived upon his own estate, and although it was not large, it had been in the family for many generations. Her father made the same mistake that Jacob made,—Jacob made too much of Joseph, and her father made too much of Mary. My mother was seventeen, and quick in disposition. She said that right was not done to her at home, and she was determined to make her own way in the world, whatever the consequences might be. She went out to service, contrary to the wish of her father. I am honoured to-day with the presence of one who has descended from the family who engaged her as servant: I mean Mr. Oldfield, of Stock Lane, vice-chairman of the Halifax Board of Guardians. In that service, in her own person, she did the work of kitchenmaid, of housemaid, and of cook; and in addition to that she regularly milked six cows every night and morning. Besides which, she kept the house, which was as clean as a little palace. But this was not enough to employ her willing hands. Her mistress took in wool or tops to spin, and she could do what scarcely any in Warley could have done,—she spun that wool to thirty-six hanks in the pound, and thus earned many a guinea for her mistress, besides doing all her other work."[2]

[Footnote 1: Those who "came in with William the Conqueror" are not the oldest but the youngest of British families. They are the most recent occupiers of British soil. The Angles and Saxons, whose lands the Normans divided amongst themselves, occupied Britain many hundred years before the arrival of the Conqueror. In the remote dales of Yorkshire and Lancashire, the ancient race still exists. And thus the Crossley family may have a much longer pedigree, could they but trace it, than any of those who "came in with William the Conqueror." The latter are able to trace their origin because their numbers are so small, their possessions so large, and their introduction as English proprietors comparatively so recent.]

[Footnote 2: In these snobbish days, when rich people are so often ashamed of their fathers and grandfathers, and vainly endeavour to make out their ancient 'nobility,' it was honest and manly on the part of Sir Francis Crossley thus publicly to relate these facts; and to share with his mother the honour of conferring his splendid present of the People's Park on the townsmen of Halifax.]

Sir Francis went on to relate the history of his father (as given above from his own manuscript), until the time when he took the Dean Clough Mill. "My mother," he says, "went thither with her usual energy. As she was going down the yard at four o'clock in the morning, she made this vow: 'If the Lord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of it.' It is to this vow, given with so much faithfulness, and kept with so much fidelity, that I attribute the great success which my father had in business. My mother was always looking how she could best keep this vow. In the days that are gone by, when it was a dreary thing to give employment to a large number of people, the advice that she gave to her sons was, 'Do not sell your goods for less than they cost, for it would ruin you without permanently benefiting any one; but if you can go on giving employment during the winter, do so, for it is a bad thing for a working man to go home and hear his children cry for bread, when he has none to give them.'"

And now with respect to the manner in which Sir Francis Crossley fulfilled the vow of his mother. "On the 10th of September, 1855," he said, "I left Quebec early in the morning, for the White Mountains in the United States. I remember passing through some of the most glorious scenery I had ever seen. On reaching the hotel at the White Mountains, I went out alone for an evening walk. It was a beautiful spot. The sun was just declining behind Mount Washington, amidst all the glorious drapery of an American sunset. I felt as if I was walking with God. 'What,' said I, 'shall I render for all His benefits to me? Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?' The answer came immediately. It was this: 'It is true thou canst not bring the many thousands thou has left behind thee in thy native country, to see this beautiful scenery, but thou canst take such scenery to them. It is possible so to arrange art and nature that they shall be within the reach of every working man in Halifax; that he shall go and take his evening walk there, after his day's toil has been done.' Well, that seemed to me a glorious thought! I walked home, and my prayer that night was, that in the morning I might feel that my thought was justified, and that I might be spared to put it in execution. I slept soundly that night, and when I awoke my impression was confirmed. On the 10th of September, when I left Quebec for the White Mountains, I had no more idea of making a park than any one here has of building a city. On the day I reached home, I felt as convinced that I should carry out my thought, as I was of my own existence. And from that day to this I have never flinched from the undertaking, whatever difficulties might arise. It is a happy day for me that I have been permitted to see the result, in the People's Park that has been opened to-day."

The Park was opened in August, 1857.[1] Three years later, a fine statue of Sir Francis Crossley (by Mr. Joseph Durham) was placed in the Park, so that all comers, while beholding the princely gift, might also see the form and features of the giver. The cost of the statue was defrayed by public subscription, in which persons of all political parties joined. The preparation of the statue was delayed by the revolution in Italy, which placed Victor Emanuel on the Italian throne. While the quarrymen at Carrara were digging out the block of marble of which the figure was to be sculptured, they were roused by shouts of "Liberty," coupled with the name of Garibaldi, and they left their work to join the banner of that victorious leader. In front of the statue is the following inscription: "This statue of Frank Crossley, Esq., M.P. for the West Riding of the county of York, donor of the People's Park, was erected August 14, 1860, by the inhabitants of Halifax, his native town, as a tribute of gratitude and respect to one whose public benefactions and private virtues deserve to be remembered."

[Footnote 1: The Park is situated in the centre of the borough of Halifax, and covers twelve acres and a half of ground. It cost Sir Francis Crossley L35,000, who also gave to the Corporation L6,300 to be invested for its maintenance.]

But the vow of Martha Crossley was not yet entirely fulfilled: "If the Lord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of it." That was what she promised on her husband's entering into possession of Dean Clough Mills; and her sons have nobly fulfilled her promise. In 1864, the extensive business of John Crossley and Sons, with all its mills, machinery, plant, warehouses and stock-in-trade—at Halifax, Kidderminster, Manchester, and London,—was converted into a joint-stock company. The company was formed with the primary design of receiving the co-operation of all parties associated with the business, and with the object of securing a spirit of harmony and the material well-being and profit of the workpeople, clerks, managers, and others interested in the concern. In order to enable the workpeople to join in the business, a large sum of money was lent to them for the purpose of taking up returned shares in the company; and the workpeople took them up to a large extent. A preference was always given to the managers and operatives; and the amount of shares applied for by them was invariably allotted in full.

The results of this system have proved entirely satisfactory; the directors reporting that "the active energies of all parties necessary to ensure success have been fully enlisted. They claim originality, in their method of securing the direct interest of the employes, and they rejoice in being able to report that the system has more than realized their highest expectations."[1] At the present time, the employes hold shares in the company, of the value of about thirty thousand pounds; and the deposit bank, founded for the use of the workpeople exclusively, contains money-savings amounting to more than sixteen thousand pounds! And thus the vow of Martha Crossley, that the poor should taste of the prosperity of John Crossley and Sons, has been amply and nobly fulfilled!

[Footnote 1: Reports of the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, vol. vi., pp. 119—141.]

One of the most promising of co-operative undertakings established by employers for the benefit of their workpeople, was that of the Messrs. Briggs and Son, of Whitwood collieries, near Wakefield. The collieries were converted into a limited company in 1865. The working colliers were made partners in the prosperity of the concern to this extent,—that whenever the divisible profits accruing from the business in any year, after making allowance for depreciation, exceeded ten per cent, on the capital embarked, all those employed by the company were to receive one-half of such excess profit as a bonus, to be distributed amongst them in proportion to their respective earnings during the year. The object of the owners was to put an end to strikes, which had sometimes placed them in peril of their lives, and also to enable them to live on better terms with their workpeople. The colliers were invited to become shareholders, and thus to take a personal interest in the prosperity of the concern.

The project was received with great favour by the friends of co-operation. Mr. John Stuart Mill, in his Principles of Political Economy, announced that "the Messrs. Briggs had taken the first step; and that it was highly honourable on the part of those employers of labour to have initiated a system so full of benefit both to the operatives employed and to the general interests of social improvement." Mr. Hughes, M.P., after visiting the collieries, expressed his surprise at the great success achieved in the first year of working the collieries as a partnership of industry. "I believe," he said to the owners, "that in taking this step you have done a great work for England, and one which will be gratefully recognized before long by the country." The promoters also claimed a reward from the Paris Universal Exhibition, for having been "the first large employers in England who have allowed all their workpeople, whether co-shareholders with them or not, to participate in all divisible profits beyond a fixed percentage on the paid-up capital of the company."

Only a few years have passed, and already this promising partnership of industry has come to an end. It has not been brought to an end by the masters, but by the men. The masters were satisfied with the profits made during the recent high prices of coal; but the men were not satisfied with the wages. Had they been as free as the Welsh colliers, they would have insisted on being paid as highly; but it would have been, as it was in Wales, ruinous to the masters. The system of industrial partnership had at length to be abandoned, and the men now work for wages instead of for part-profits. The truth is, the colliers were not sufficiently educated to appreciate the advantages of the industrial scheme. Though some of the Whitwood workmen have been stimulated by thrift, to build and furnish houses of their own, the greater number of them, during the recent flush of prosperity, squandered their wages on frivolity, extravagance, and intemperance.

The attempt was also made by several firms engaged in the iron trade, to embody the principle of co-operation in their respective concerns. Amongst these were the firms of Greening and Co., Manchester, and Fox, Head, and Co., Middlesborough.

The experiments were to a certain extent brought to an end by the greed or laziness of the colliers, who have for a time destroyed the prosperity of the iron trade. Messrs. Greening and Co. started with great enthusiasm; and the results were very successful as regards the workpeople. Nothing could have been better than the spirit of goodwill, and even devotion, which was displayed by many of them. But, unhappily, contracts were taken by the management, which resulted in a series of losses; and the scheme ended in liquidation. Mr. Greening states that "the Distribution Societies have as yet been much more successful than the Production Societies;" but he hopes "to see the latter crown the edifice by making workers everywhere no longer servants, but co-partners with capital."

The firm of Fox, Head, and Co. also admitted their workmen to a partnership of profits. They had for some time been much annoyed by strikes. Their works had stood idle for about a fourth of the whole time that had elapsed since their commencement. The system of co-operation was adopted in 1866, at the close of a long strike. One of the conditions of the scheme was that Fox, Head, and Co. should not be members of any association of employers, and that the workmen should not be members of any trades union. The original intention was to pay the workmen a bonus according to profits. They eventually adopted the practice of the Messrs. Briggs and Co., which was, to divide the profits over ten per cent. into two parts: the one to belong to the capitalists as their profit, and the other to be divided amongst all those who had received wages or salaries during the year, in proportion to the amount received by them. An opportunity was also afforded to the workmen of depositing their savings with the firm; but as there was only one instance, during three years, of a workman applying to invest his savings, this clause was withdrawn.

In consequence of the depressed state of the iron trade, there were no profits to be divided during the first two years. The men were, however, paid the current rate of wages, and were saved the expenses of Union levies. The co-operative store, which had been founded by the workmen, was in a very prosperous condition. In the third year of the co-operative scheme, a bonus of two and a half per cent, was divided between the employers and the employed. The workmen also received an advance of five per cent. in wages. In the fourth year the wages of the workmen were further increased ten per cent., and this took the cream off the bowl. However, a bonus of four per cent. was paid on the wages and salaries received by the employes during that year. At the meeting held to communicate the result of the year's business, Mr. Head said:—

"There may be some who think the tendency of our policy has been too sentimental. I don't believe in doing business on sentimental principles. But I contend that mere money-making is not the sole end of existence. We have been associated with many of you for several years, and we cannot help feeling a considerable interest in you. After all, life is not so very long. Another twenty or thirty years will see us all under ground, and there will be other employers and other workmen carrying on business at Newport Rolling Mills. It would indeed be strange if we did not take some interest in those with whom we are so much associated. And so, without in the least relaxing discipline, or sacrificing any true principle of business, we hold it to be our duty as employers, as well as your duties as employes, to consider each other's interests, and to do all that each of us can in the way of true and hearty co-operation."

The coal famine began to tell upon the iron-workers. The furnaces were often laid off for want of coal. The principal causes of the bad supply of coal arose from shorter hours of labour, and higher wages for less work. Yet a bonus of three and a quarter per cent, was allowed on the wages and salaries received by the employes during the year 1871. The co-operative stores continued to be very productive, and many of the members saved considerable sums of money. In the next year, a bonus of three and a half per cent, was divided. But difficulties were in store. The coal famine continued. The employers of labour held meetings to resist the successive advances of wages, and to counteract the operations of the trades unions.

Mr. Head strongly urged the men to hold together: "Cease to be deluded," he said, "by these trades unions. Save all you can, and with your savings provide against the day of sickness—a day which is sure to come sooner or later. Provide for old age; read good books,—you have every chance now, with a free library in the town. Give credit to others for wishing to be straightforward and honest as well as yourselves; and in every way I would ask you to act as reasonable, straightforward, sensible English workmen ought to do. Show that you can appreciate being well used, that you can appreciate those who put themselves to trouble that they may do you good; and beware lest, by want of sympathy, you drive the best of the employers out of the business, and retain those alone who are despotic and tyrannical. Cease to follow those who are actuated by self-interest, or by blind impulse; who do not care a bit if they get you into trouble, provided only they serve their own selfish ends. Such men are but blind leaders of the blind, and if you follow them you will eventually find yourselves deserted, and lying hopelessly and helplessly in the last ditch."

It was of no use. The men's wages went up twenty per cent.; and there was an end of the bonuses. The coal famine continued. The masters, instead of making profits, made immense losses. The price of iron went down. The mills stood idle for two months. The result was, that when the masters next met the workmen in public meeting, Mr. Waterhouse, the auditor, reported that "while the gross earnings of the year have exceeded the expenditure on materials, wages, and trade charges, they have been insufficient to cover the full amounts to be provided under the co-operative scheme for interest on capital, depreciation, and the reserve for bad debts; and that consequently it was his duty to declare that no amount was at present payable as bonus either to employers or employed." No further report was issued in 1875, excepting an announcement that there was no dividend, and that the firm did not intend to continue the co-operative scheme any longer. During the time that it lasted, the employes had received about eight thousand pounds in bonuses.

Since then, Sir Joseph Whitworth has announced his intention of giving his workmen a bonus upon his profits; but the principle of the division has not yet been announced. On hearing of his intention, Mr. Carlyle wrote the following letter to Sir Joseph:—

"Would to heaven that all the captains of industry in England had a soul in them such as yours. The look of England is to me at this moment abundantly ominous, the question of capital and labour growing ever more anarchic, insoluble altogether by the notions hitherto applied to it—pretty sure to issue in petroleum one day, unless some other gospel than that of the 'Dismal Science' come to illuminate it. Two things are pretty sure to me. The first is that capital and labour never can or will agree together till they both first of all decide on doing their work faithfully throughout, and like men of conscience and honour, whose highest aim is to behave like faithful citizens of this universe, and obey the eternal commandments of Almighty God, who made them. The second thing is, that a sadder object than even that of the coal strike, or any other conceivable strike, is the fact that—loosely speaking—we may say all England has decided that the profitablest way is to do its work ill, slurily, swiftly, and mendaciously. What a contrast between now and say only a hundred years ago! At the latter date all England awoke to its work—to an invocation to the Eternal Maker to bless them in their day's labour, and help them to do it well. Now, all England—shopkeepers, workmen, all manner of competing labourers—awaken as with an unspoken but heartfelt prayer to Beelzebub,—'Oh, help us, thou great Lord of Shoddy, Adulteration, and Malfeasance, to do our work with the maximum of sluriness, swiftness, profit, and mendacity, for the devil's sake. Amen.'"

Fortunately, there is not a great deal of truth in this letter, nor in the "heartfelt prayer" to Shoddy. The Right Hon. Mr. Forster ought to know something of labour and capital, and at a recent meeting of the Cobden Club he stated that "they were often told that they had a war within their borders between labour and capital; but as an employer of labour ever since he came to manhood, he would only say that he never knew a time in which employer and employed were on better terms."

The late Sir Francis Crossley observed that there was a good deal of unreasonable feeling abroad. It was held by some that it was wrong for working men to sell their labour at the best price; but it must be remembered that their labour was the only thing they had to sell; and the best thing to do was to leave those matters to take their natural course. It was a great mistake, on the part of employers, to suppose that the lowest-priced labour was always the cheapest. If there was not so much desire to run down the price of labour, and the masters showed a more conciliatory spirit, there would be fewer strikes and outrages.

"What a contrast between now and say only a hundred years ago!" Certainly there is a very great contrast. England was not a manufacturing country a hundred years ago. We imported nearly everything, except corn, wool, and flax. We imported the greatest part of our iron from Spain, Sweden, Germany, and Russia. We imported our pottery from Holland, our hats from Flanders, our silk from France, our cloth and carpets from Belgium. Our cotton manufactures, our woollen and flax manufactures, our machine manufactures, could scarcely be said to exist. Coal could scarcely be had, for the coal-pits could not be kept clear of water.

A hundred years ago, we could not build a steam-engine; we could scarcely build a bridge. Look at the churches built a hundred years ago, and behold the condition of our architecture. A hundred years ago, we had fallen to almost the lowest condition as a nation. We had not a harbour; we had not a dock. The most extensive system of robbery prevailed on the River Thames. The roads, such as they were, swarmed with highwaymen; and black-mail was levied by the Highlanders upon the Lowland farmers, down to the middle of last century.

A hundred years ago, our ships were rotten; they were manned by prisoners taken from the hulks, or by working men pressed in the streets in open day. When James Watt was learning his trade of an instrument maker in London, a hundred years ago, he durst scarcely walk abroad lest he should be seized and sent to India or the American plantations. Less than a hundred years ago, the colliers and salters of Scotland were slaves. It is not forty years since women and children worked in coalpits. Surely we are not to go down upon our knees and pray for a restoration of the horrible things that existed a hundred years ago.

A hundred years ago, Ireland was treated like a conquered country; and hangings and shootings of rebels were frequent. The fleet at the Nore mutinied; and the mutiny was put down by bloodshed and executions. Towns and cities swarmed with ruffians; and brutal sports and brutal language existed to a frightful degree. Criminals were hanged, five or six together, at Tyburn. Gibbets existed at all the cross-roads throughout the country. The people were grossly ignorant, and altogether neglected. Scepticism and irreligion prevailed, until Wesley and Whitfield sprang up to protest against formalism and atheism. They were pelted with rotten eggs, sticks, and stones. A Methodist preacher was whipped out of Gloucester.

A hundred years ago, literature was at a very low ebb. The press was in a miserable state. William Whitehead was Poet Laureate! Who knows of him now? Gibbon had not written his "Decline and Fall." Junius was the popular writer. Political corruption was scarified in his letters. The upper classes were coarse, drunken, and ill-mannered. Bribery and corruption on the grossest scale were the principal means for getting into Parliament. Mr. Dowdeswell, M.P. for Worcestershire, said to the Commons, "You have turned out a member for impiety and obscenity. What halfdozen members of this House ever meet over a convivial bottle, that their discourse is entirely free from obscenity, impiety, or abuse of Government?"

Though drunkenness is bad enough now, it was infinitely worse a hundred years ago. The publican's signboards announced, "You may here get drunk for a penny, dead-drunk for twopence, and have clean straw for nothing." Drunkenness was considered a manly vice. To drink deep was the fashion of the day. Six-bottle men were common. Even drunken clergymen were not unknown.

What were the popular amusements of the people a hundred years ago? They consisted principally of man-fighting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, bull baiting, badger-drawing, the pillory, public whipping, and public executions. Mr. Wyndham vindicated the ruffianism of the Ring in his place in Parliament, and held it up as a school in which Englishmen learnt pluck and "the manly art of self-defence." Bull-baiting was perhaps more brutal than prize-fighting, though Wyndham defended it as "calculated to stimulate the noble courage of Englishmen." The bull was secured to a stake in the market-place or the bull-ring (the name still survives in many towns), and there the animal was baited by the rabble dogs of the neighbourhood. One can scarcely imagine the savageness of the sport—the animal mutilations, the imprecations of ruffians worse than brutes, the ferociousness and drunkenness, the blasphemy and unspeakable horrors of the exhibition. The public mind of this day absolutely revolts at such brutality. Yet, less than a hundred years ago—on the 24th of May, 1802,—a Bill for the abolition of bull-baiting was lost in the House of Commons by sixty-four to fifty-one,—Mr. Wyndham contending that horse-racing and hunting were more cruel than bull-baiting or prize-fighting!

The pillory was one of our time-honoured institutions fifty years ago, and men and women used to be placed there for offences, such as a wise legislature would have endeavoured to conceal from public consideration. The horrid scenes which then took place, when men, women, and children collected in crowds to pelt the offenders with missiles, were so disgusting, that they cannot be described. Not more seemly were the public whippings then administered to women in common with the coarsest male offenders. The public abominations and obscenities of the "good old times" would almost have disgraced the days of Nero.

But bull-baiting, cock-fighting, and other ferocious amusements, have now departed. Even the village stocks have rotted out. Drunkenness has become disreputable. The "good old times" have departed, we hope never to return. The labourer has now other resources beside the public-house. There are exhibitions and people's parks, steamboats and railways, reading-rooms and coffee-rooms, museums, gardens, and cheap concerts. In place of the disgusting old amusements, there has come a healthier, sounder life, greater enlightenment, more general sobriety, and a humaner spirit. We have in a hundred years outgrown many of our savage tendencies. We are not less brave as a people, though less brutal. We are quite as manly, though much less gross. Manners are more refined, yet as a people we have not lost our pluck, energy, and endurance. We respect ourselves more, and as a nation we have become more respected. We now think with shame of the manners of a hundred years ago.

The achievements of which England has most reason to be proud, have been accomplished during the last hundred years. English slaves have been emancipated, both at home and abroad. Impressment has been done away with. Parliamentary representation has been conferred upon all classes of the people. The Corn Laws have been abolished. Free trade has been established. Our ports are now open to the whole world.

And then, see what our inventors have accomplished! James Watt invented the steam-engine, which in a few years created a large number of new industries, and gave employment to immense numbers of people. Henry Cort invented the puddling-process, and enabled England to rely upon its own stores of iron, instead of depending upon foreign and perhaps hostile countries. All the docks and harbours round the English coast have been formed during the present century. The steamboat, the railway, and the telegraph have only been invented and applied during the last fifty years.

With respect to the charge made against the English workman as to the "sluriness, swiftness, and mendacity" of his work, it is simply impossible that this should be so. Our ports are free and open to the world; and if Frenchmen, Germans, Belgians, or Americans could execute better work than Englishmen, we should not only cease to export, but also lose our home trade. The foreigner is now free to undersell us, if he can, in our own markets.

It was in the perfect confidence that Englishmen were the best and most honest workers in the world, that free trade was established. Should we ever become a shoddy manufacturing people, free trade will probably be abolished; and we shall then impose prohibitory duties upon foreign manufactures. But is it not the fact that every year sees an increase in the exports of English goods,—that English workmanship is not considered the worst, but the best, in the general markets of the world,—and that numerous foreign makers place an English mark upon their productions in order to ensure their sale?

It is by means of English workmen and English tools and machines that continental manufactories themselves have been established; and yet, notwithstanding their cheaper labour, we should command the foreign market, but for the prohibitory duties which foreigners impose upon English manufactures. Mr. Brassey, in his book on Work and Wages, says, "It may be affirmed that as practical mechanics the English are unsurpassed. The presence of the English engineer, the solitary representative, among a crew of foreigners, of the mechanical genius of his country, is a familiar recollection to all who have travelled much in the steamers of the Mediterranean. Consul Lever says that in the vast establishment of the Austrian Lloyds at Trieste, a number of English mechanical engineers are employed, not only in the workshops, but as navigating engineers in the company's fleet. Although there is no difficulty in substituting for these men Germans or Swiss, at lower rates of payment, the uniform accuracy of the English, their intelligence, their consummate mastery of all the details of their art, and their resources in every case of difficulty, have entirely established their superiority."[1]

[Footnote 1: Work and Wages, p. 114.]

The English are also the best miners, the best tool-makers, the best instrument-makers, the best "navvies," the best ship-builders, the best spinners and weavers. Mr. Brassey says that during the construction of the Paris and Rouen Railway, the Frenchman, Irishman, and Englishman were employed side by side. In the same quarry at Bounieres, the Frenchman received three francs, the Irishman four, and the Englishman six; and the last was found to be the most advantageous workman of the three. The superiority of the English workman over persons of other nations was equally remarkable whenever there was an opportunity of employing him side by side with them.

There is no doubt about the "swiftness" of English Workmanship. But this is one of the merits of English mechanism. M. Jules Simon observes that heretofore the manual labourer has been an intelligent force, but by means of machinery he is converted into an intelligent director of force. It is by the speed of the English machinery, and the intelligent quickness of the workmen, that his master makes a profit, and himself such high wages as compared with continental workmen. In France, one person is employed to mind fourteen spindles; in Russia, one to twenty-eight; in Prussia, one to thirty-seven; and in Great Britain, one to seventy-four spindles. It is by means of the swiftness of our machinery that we are enabled to bring cotton from India, manufacture it in Manchester, return the manufactured article to the place from which it was taken, and sell it at a lower price than the native-made calico.

Mr. Chadwick mentions the following case. "A lady, the wife of an eminent cotton manufacturer, went to him one day rejoicing, with a fine piece of muslin, as the produce of India, which she had bought in London, and showing it to him, said, if he produced a fabric like that, he would really be doing something meritorious in textile art. He examined it, and found that it was the produce of his own looms, near Manchester, made for the Indian market exclusively, bought there, and re-sold in England as rare Indian manufacture!"[1]

[Footnote 1: Address on Economy and Free Trade. By Edwin Chadwick, C.B., at the Association for the Promotion of Social Science at York, 1861.]

An annual report is furnished to the Government, by our foreign consuls, with reference to the character and condition of the working classes in most parts of the civilized world. Mr. Walter, M.P., in a recent address to an assembly of workmen, referred to one of these reports. He said, "There is one remark, in particular, that occurs with lamentable frequency throughout the report,—that, with few exceptions, the foreign workman does not appear 'to take pride in his work,' nor (to use a significant expression) to 'put his character into it.' A remarkable instance of this is mentioned of a country which generally constitutes an honourable exception to this unhappy rule. Switzerland is a country famous for its education and its watches; yet the following passage from the report will show that neither knowledge nor skill will suffice without the exercise of that higher quality on which I have been dwelling. 'As a rule,' it says, 'Swiss workmen are competent in their several trades, and take an interest in their work; for, thanks to their superior education, they fully appreciate the pecuniary advantages to their masters, and indirectly to themselves, of adhering strictly to this course. A striking instance of the impolicy of acting otherwise has lately happened at St. Imier, in the Bernese Jura, and produced a deep impression. In this district, for some years past, a great falling off in the quality of the watches manufactured has taken place, owing to the inhabitants finding it much more profitable to increase the production at the cost of the workmanship than to abide by the old rules of the trade. They prospered beyond all expectation for a considerable time, but finally their watches got such a bad name that they became unsaleable, and the result is a general bankruptcy of nearly all the watchmakers of this particular district."

One thing, however, remains to be said of foreign workmen generally. Although they do not work so hard as the English, they take much better care of their earnings. They are exceedingly frugal and economical. Frenchmen are much soberer than Englishmen, and much better mannered. They are, on the whole, greatly more provident than English workmen. Mr. Brassey states that when the Paris and Rouen Railway works were commenced, the contractors endeavoured to introduce a system by which the workmen were to be paid once a fortnight; but very soon after the operations had begun, the Frenchmen requested that the pay might take place only once a month.

Mr. Reid, managing director of the line, told the House of Commons Committee on Railway Labourers, that a French labourer is a much more independent person than an Englishman, and much more respectable. He stated, in support of his opinion, this remarkable circumstance, that whereas a French labourer desired to be paid only once a month, the English labourer desired to be paid every Saturday night,—and by the following Wednesday he wanted something on account of the week's work. "Nothing could be a greater test," said Mr. Reid, "of the respectability of a working man than being able to go without his pay for a month."[1]

[Footnote 1: Thomas Brassey, M.P., On Work and Wages.]

Although the French workman has nothing like the same facilities for saving as the English, the Journal des Debats alleges that he saves ten times as much as his rival. There are only about a thousand savings banks and branches established in France, and yet two millions of persons belonging to the lower ranks last year had invested in them about twenty-eight millions sterling. But the Frenchman of the city prefers investing in Government Rentes; and the Frenchman of the country prefers investing in land. All, however, are thrifty, saving, and frugal; because they are educated in economy from their earliest years.



CHAPTER XII

LIVING BEYOND THE MEANS.

"By no means run in debt: take thine own measure. Who cannot live on twenty pounds a year, Cannot on forty: he's a man of pleasure, A kind of thing that's for itself too dear."—George Herbert.

"But what will Mrs. Grundy say?"—Old Play.

"YES and No are, for good or evil, the Giants of Life."—Jerrold.

"A hundred years of vexation will not pay a farthing of debt."—From the French.

"Respectability is all very well for folks who can have it for ready money: but to be obliged to run into debt for it—it's enough to break the heart of an angel."—Jerrold.

Extravagance is the pervading sin of modern society. It is not confined to the rich and moneyed classes, but extends also to the middle and working classes.

There never was such a burning desire to be rich, or to seem to be rich. People are no longer satisfied with the earnings of honest industry; but they must aim at becoming suddenly rich,—by speculation, gambling, betting, swindling, or cheating.

General extravagance is to be seen everywhere. It is especially the characteristic of town life. You see it in the streets, in the parks, in the churches. The extravagance of dress is only one of its signs. There is a general prodigality in social display. People live in a style beyond their means; and the results are observed in commercial failures, in lists of bankrupts, and in criminal courts, where business men are so often convicted of dishonesty and fraud.

Appearances must be kept up. Men must seem to be rich. Hypocrites can easily impose upon those who are willing to be convinced. People must now live in a certain style, inhabit handsome houses, give good dinners, drink fine wines, and have a handsome equipage. Perhaps they are only able to accomplish this by overreaching or by dishonesty. Everybody wondered at the generosity and style of Redpath and Robson; but there are hundreds, if not thousands, of Redpaths and Robsons now.

There is another class of people, not fraudulent, but extravagant; though perhaps on the brink of becoming fraudulent. They live up to their means, and often beyond them. They desire to be considered "respectable people." They live according to the pernicious adage, "One must do as others do." They do not consider whether they can afford to live up to or beyond their means; but they think it necessary to secure the "respect" of others. In doing so, they usually sacrifice their own self-respect. They regard their dress, their establishments, their manner of living, and their observance of fashion, as the sole tests of respectability and rank. They make an appearance in the eyes of the world; though it may be entirely hypocritical and false.

But they must not seem poor! They must hide their poverty by every effort. They spend their money before it is earned,—run into debt at the grocer's, the baker's, the milliner's, and the butcher's. They must entertain their fashionable "friends," at the expense of the shopkeepers. And yet, when misfortunes overtake them, and when their debts have become overwhelming, what becomes of the "friends"? They fly away, and shun the man who is up to his ears in debt!

Yet poverty is more than half disarmed by those who have the moral courage to say. "I can't afford it." Fair-weather friends are of no use whatever, except as an indication of the depth of snobbery to which human beings can descend. What is "a visiting connection"? It is not at all calculated to elevate one in social, or even in business life. Success mainly depends upon character, and the general esteem in which a person is held. And if the attempt is made to snatch the reward of success before it is earned, the half-formed footing may at once give way, and the aspirant will fall, unlamented, into the open-mouthed dragon of debt.

"Mrs. Grundy," in the play, is but an impersonation of the conventionalism of the world. Custom, habit, fashion, use and wont, are all represented in her. She may be a very vulgar and commonplace person, but her power is nevertheless prodigious. We copy and imitate her in all things. We are pinned to her apron-string. We are obedient at her bidding. We are indolent and complaisant, and fear to provoke her ill-word. "What will Mrs. Grundy say?" quells many a noble impulse, hinders many a self-denying act.

There seems to be a general, though unconscious conspiracy existing, against each other's individuality and manhood. We discourage self-reliance, and demand conformity. Each must see with others' eyes, and think through others' minds. We are idolaters of customs and observances, looking behind, not forwards and upwards. Pinned down and held back by ignorance and weakness, we are afraid of standing alone, or of thinking and acting for ourselves. Conventionalism rules all. We fear stepping out into the free air of independent thought and action. We refuse to plant ourselves upon our instincts, and to vindicate our spiritual freedom. We are content to bear others' fruit, not our own.

In private affairs, the same spirit is alike deleterious. We live as society directs, each according to the standard of our class. We have a superstitious reverence for custom. We dress, and eat, and live, in conformity with the Grundy law. So long as we do this, we are "respectable," according to class notions. Thus many rush open-eyed upon misery, for no better excuse than a foolish fear of "the world." They are afraid of "what others will say of them;" and, in nine cases out of ten, those who might probably raise the voice of censure, are not the wise or the far-seeing, but much oftener the foolish, the vain, and the short-sighted.

Sir William Temple has said, that "a restlessness in men's minds to be something that they are not, and to have something that they have not, is the root of all immorality." The statement is strictly correct. It has been attested by universal experience.

Keeping up appearances is one of the greatest social evils of the age. There is a general effort, more particularly amongst the middle and upper classes, at seeming to be something that they are not. They put on appearances, live a life of sham, and endeavour to look something superior to what they really are.

"Respectability" is one of the chief aims. Respectability, regarded in its true sense, is a desirable thing. To be respected, on right grounds, is an object which every man and woman is justified in obtaining. But modern respectability consists of external appearances. It means wearing fine clothes, dwelling in fine houses, and living in fine style. It looks to the outside,—to sound, show, externals. It listens to the chink of gold in the pocket. Moral worth or goodness forms no part of modern respectability. A man in these days may be perfectly "respectable," and yet altogether despicable.

This false and demoralizing habit arises from the overweening estimate which is formed of two things, well enough in their place,—rank and wealth. Everybody struggles to rise into some superior class. The spirit of caste is found as keenly at work among the humblest as among the highest ranks. At Birmingham, there was a club of workmen with tails to their coats, and another without tails: the one looked down upon the other. Cobbett, so felicitous in his nicknames, called his political opponent, Mr. Sadler, "a linendraper." But the linendraper also has plenty of people beneath him. The linendraper looks down on the huckster, the huckster on the mechanic, and the mechanic on the day labourer. The flunkey who exhibits his calves behind a baron, holds his head considerably higher than the flunkey who serves a brewer.

It matters not at what class you begin, or however low in the social scale, you will find that every man has somebody beneath him. Among the middling ranks, this sort of exclusiveness is very marked. Each circle would think it a degradation to mix on familiar terms with the members of the circle beneath it. In small towns and villages, you will find distinct coteries holding aloof from each other, perhaps despising each other, and very often pelting each other with hard words. The cathedral towns, generally, have at least six of such distinct classes, ranking one beneath the other.

And while each has his or her own exclusive circle, which all of supposed inferior rank are precluded from entering, they are at the same time struggling to pass over the line of social demarcation which has been drawn by those above them. They are eager to overleap it, and thus gain admission into a circle still more exclusive than their own.

There is also a desperate scramble for front places, and many are the mean shifts employed to gain them. We must possess the homage of society! And for this purpose we must be rich, or at least seem to be so. Hence the struggles after style—the efforts made to put on the appearances of wealth—the dash, the glitter, and the show of middle and upper class life;—and hence, too, the motley train of palled and vitiated tastes—of shrunken hearts and stunted intellects—of folly, frivolity, and madness.

One of the most demoralizing practices of modern refinement is the "large party" system. People cram their houses with respectable mobs; thus conforming to a ridiculous custom. Rousseau, with all his aberrations of mind, said, "I had rather have my house too small for a day, than too large for a twelvemonth." Fashion exactly reverses the maxim; and domestic mischief is often begun with a large dwelling and suitable accommodations. The misfortune consists in this,—that we never look below our level for an example, but always above it.

It is not so much, however, in the mere appearances kept up, as in the means taken to keep them up, that the fruitful cause of immorality is to be found. A man having assumed a class status, runs all risks to keep it up. It is thought to be a descent in the world, to abridge oneself of a superfluity. The seeming-rich man, who drives his close carriage and drinks champagne, will not tolerate a descent to a gig and plain beer; and the respectable man, who keeps his gig, would think it a degradation to have to travel afoot or in a 'bus, between his country house and his town office. They will descend to immorality rather than descend in apparent rank; they will yield to dishonesty rather than yield up the mock applause and hollow respect of that big fool, "the world."

Everybody can call to mind hundreds of cases of men—"respectable men"—who, from one extravagance have gone on to another—wantonly squandering wealth which was not theirs—in order to keep up a worldly reputation, and cut a figure before their admiring fellows;—all ending in a sudden smash, a frightful downfall, an utter bankruptcy—to the ruin, perhaps, of thousands. They have finished up with paying a respectable dividend of sixpence in the pound! Indeed it is not too much to say, that five-sixths of the fraud and swindling that disgrace commercial transactions, have had their origin in the diseased morality of "keeping up appearances."

To be "respectable," in the false sense of the word,—what is not sacrificed? Peace, honesty, truth, virtue,—all to keep up appearances. We must cheat, and scrub, and deceive, and defraud, that "the world" may not see behind our mask! We must torment and enslave ourselves, because we must extort "the world's" applause, or at least obtain "the world's" good opinion!

How often is suicide traceable to this false sentiment! Vain men will give up their lives, rather than their class notions of respectability. They will cut the thread of existence, rather than cut fashionable life. Very few suicides are committed from real want. "We never hear," says Joel Barlow, "of a man committing suicide for want of a loaf of bread, but it is often done for want of a coach."

Of this mean and miserable spirit of class and caste, women are the especial victims. They are generally brought up with false notions of life, and are taught to estimate men and things rather by their external appearances than by their intrinsic worth. Their education is conducted mainly with the view of pleasing and attracting the admiration of others, rather than of improving and developing their qualities of mind and heart. They are imbued with notions of exclusiveness, fashion, and gentility. A respectable position in society is held up to them as the mark to be aimed at. To be criminal or vicious is virtually represented to them as far less horrible than to be "vulgar." Immured within the bastile of exclusivism, woman is held captive to all the paltry shifts and expediencies of convention, fashion, gentility, and so forth. The genuine benevolence of her nature is perverted; her heart becomes contracted; and the very highest sources of happiness—those which consist in a kindly sympathy with humanity in all ranks of life—are as a well shut up and a fountain sealed.

Is it not a fact, that in what is called "fashionable society," a fine outside appearance is regarded almost in the light of a virtue?—that to be rich, or to have the appearance of riches, is esteemed as a merit of a high order;—whereas, to be poor, or to seem so, ranks as something like an unpardonable offence? Nay, such is the heartlessness of this class spirit, that a young woman, belonging to the better class, who, by misfortune or family reverses, has been thrown upon her own resources, and who endeavours, by her own honest hands, to earn her honest bread, immediately loses caste, and is virtually expelled from "respectable" society. The resolution to be independent—the most invigorating resolution which can take possession of the human mind—is scouted in such circles as a degrading thing; and those who have been brought up within the influence of fashion, will submit to the most severe privations, rather than submit to the loss of their class and caste respectability!