1
10
15
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/e2e3845cc8f8edc76b87f539fda36ac8.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=UaN30VBL2Zkl7ZH4x-vD6FtFkjBJnbaDDhkJMZ-5bk25CCEEe%7EKwyR09kSrh%7E2YLz5kAAuYqbA6Wlhyk4p2z%7EUB2BvBy26u7Dd1bhOro5qoVin1pYI%7E4FgyShy9c5wWowsIHy7NJm9HYtrxbiJyN2-fadGSyvnkEa1ZsGHTEryprtKV2IULiN1b7F5mUeh50BSXg2qY5gRLa8hlN5tla7htpH8jcZ7HNT9M26pDwbzFgRdDaglLcAYAQen-5WyNiR47xeQMp8uHot2eP9ml2IiZg0Ommh-lcb-IKmTtSGCVp45BQ7%7E9hfYxo7UUg7DpQ3hiW7XiREDweQTVXp65alg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
919b1590b2fe8e1b854efa47618da941
PDF Text
Text
nationalsecularsociety
,
J i
THE LESSONS OF A LIFE;
HARRIET
MARTINEAU.
51 tnta
DELIVERED BEFORE THE
SUNDAY LECTURE
SOCIETY,
ST, GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM ELACE,
ON
SUNDAY AFTERNOON,
lltft
MARCH, 1877.
FLORENCE FENWICK MILLER.
■
------------------ - ------ _ \
LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY THE SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
Price Threepence.
�LONDON:
PRINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET
HAYMARKET, W,
�SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
To provide for the delivery on Sundays in the Metropolis, and
to encourage the delivery elsewhere, of Lectures on Science,
—physical, intellectual, and moral,—History, Literature,
and Art; especially in their bearing upon the improvement
and social well-being of mankind.
THE SOCIETY’S LECTURES
ARE DELIVERED AT
ST GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
On SUNDAY Afternoons, at FOUR o’clock precisely.
(Annually—from November to May). '
Twenty-Four Lectures (in three series), ending April, 1877,
will be given.
Members’ £1 subscription entitles them to an annual ticket
(transferable and admitting to the reserved seats), and to eight
single reserved-seat tickets available for any lecture.
Tickets for each series (one for each lecture) as below,—
To the Shilling Reserved Seats—5s. 6d.
To the Sixpenny Seats—2sej being at the rate of Threepence:
each lecture.
For tickets and the published lectures apply (by letter, enclos
ing postage-stamps, order, or cheque), to the Hon. Treasurer, Wm.
Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Crescent, Hyde Park, W.
Payment at the door:—One Penny ;—Sixpence ;—and
(Reserved Seats) One Shilling.
�tYTef
H 3<UT9M YA<1W3
SYLLAB US.
The lessons to be drawn from this Life are partly direct
partly indirect.
A lesson for the Lecturer.
Indirect lessons from the moulding influences of Harriet
Martineau’s career:
a. Her relationships—of birth and affection.
Z>. Her religious growth.
c. Her work, and the criticism it received.
Some of the direct lessons taught by her writings.
political work, and its lesson for men.
and its lesson for women.
Posthumous fame and influence.
Her
Her work for her sex,
�THE LESSONS OF A LIFE:
HARRIET MARTINEAU.
N a summery evening in the month of June, in last year,
there was quenched one of the shining lights of our
time. After such a lifetime as falls to the lot of but few
human beings—still more of but few women ; after a long life
of physical suffering, and of such torture as could be inflicted
on such a mind by misrepresentation, slander, and abuse of
her convictions ; but withal a life full of work, full of thought,
full of purpose, and crowned with result—on that day Harriet
Martineau ended her labours, and entered into eternal rest.
All England felt that one of the most remarkable women
that ever lived had departed from amidst us. Perhaps she
has had really no predecessor in history, if we except Deborah,
who dispensed judgment from her seat under the palm-tree to
all Israel. Other women have had an equal and a greater
influence upon the course of events in their own time, but not
under anything like analogous circumstances. Aspasia ruled
by the impress of her great mind upon the great men who
sat at her feet, and Madame de Pompadour and not a few others
have ruled by the power which passion lent them over men who
swayed the destinies of states; while Elizabeth of England and
Catherine of Russia were placed by birth in a position which
gave scope for the exercise of their natural powers of govern
ment. But Harriet Martineau was born to no high station;
her influence was not the backstairs influence of the beautiful
and intriguing favourite ; she was not even hidden from view,
while the credit of her thoughts and deeds was usurped, by
any man whatever. She was a political power in our land;
our highest statesmen asked and followed her wise counsel;
O
�6
The Lessons of a Life :
thinking for herself, and uttering her thoughts fearlessly, she
gained respect for her opinions when she gave them her name,
and wrote words winged with power to find their way straight
to men’s hearts even when they were not known as her utter
ances. Taking into account the effect of her acknowledged
writings (such as her 1 Tales in Political Economy/ and her
‘ Illustrations of Taxation’), the direct influence which she
had with various leaders of politics, and the unknown extent
to which she educated men as a leader-writer and reviewer, it
will be seen how much she has impressed herself upon her
time, and what political power she has exercised.
The story of such a life cannot fail to be fraught with both
the keenest interest and the highest and most important
lessons, over and above those which may be gained from every
good biography. Probably no life, even the most insignificant,
could be truthfully delineated without conveying some new
thought, some fresh lesson, to the wise and careful student
of human nature. But if this is so with even the careers which
are as commonplace as the story of any one blade of grass,
or any one grain of sand upon the sea-shore, how much more
must it not be so when the subject of study is a life
so full of variety and of individuality as that of Harriet
Martineau ?
The lessons which we may learn here, and carry away with
us to our daily task, are of a twofold character. First, there
are the lessons which are given indirectly by the moulding
influences of her life. There is a keen interest in watching
the growth of a flower, of a fish, or any other mere physical
development; but there is far more in tracing the processes
by which a mind has increased to its full strength and beauty.
We cannot but eagerly strive to see how this one particular
mind became greater than its fellows ; what are the conditions
which seem to have aided and what those which have trammelled
its progress ? Secondly, there are the direct lessons which
this teacher of men spent her life in enforcing; the lessons
taught in her written words, and living in the printed page
upon which the eyes of so many have rested, and have yet to
rest.
And foremost among these lessons is one for me in my
present position—one which Harriet Martineau taught both
by precept and example—that of complete candour in speaking
�Harriet Martineau.
7
■of the impressions produced upon me by her works and the
record of her life. In the preface to her ‘Biographical
Sketches/ reprinted from the Daily News, she says:
“ The true principle of biographical delineation . . . is to tell, in
the spirit of justice, the whole truth about the characters of persons im
portant enough to have their lives publicly treated at all. . . In old
age, and on the borders of the grave, what do distinguished persons
desire for themselves ? How do they like the prospect of sickly praise,
of the magnifying of the trifles of their days, of any playing fast and
loose with right and wrong for the sake of their repute, of any cheating
of society of its rights in their experience of mistake and failure, as well
as of gain and achievement ? Do they not claim to be measured with
the same measure with which they mete their fellows,—to leave the world,
not under any sort of disguise, but delivering over their lives, if at all,
in their genuine aspect and condition,—to be known hereafter, if at all,
for what they are ? ”
After these words of precept for those who, in any way,
shall speak of her life after she has ceased to be, there comes
the example of her own biographical sketches. These short
essays, which treat of a large proportion of the eminent
statesmen, philosophers, and scientific and literary men and
women who have died within the last fifteen years, are truly
noteworthy for their candour, and a lesson in that respect to
all future memoir writers. They are candid not only in
blaming—candour which is all verjuice is only spite called by
another name; but praise and appreciation are given to the
worthy works and the noble qualities of even those who had
proved incapable of reaching a high standard of moral and
mental excellence in every respect. Two of these short
memoirs are those of Lockhart and John Wilson Croker. A
reference to the autobiography will show how bitterly Harriet
Martineau felt the treatment which she received at the hands
of these men (of which I must speak again farther on). But
no reader of the notices of their lives would guess that the
writer who gives them all the credit which was their due for
wit and ability was a woman whom they had joined them
selves together to pursue for years with insult, slander, and
misrepresentation. On the other hand, her dearest friends,
as Lord Durham, are treated with a calm, dispassionate con
sideration, answering that requirement of honesty laid down
in the words which I have quoted.
The first lesson, therefore, which meets me is one for
�8
The Lessons of a Life :
myself—one given by my illustrious subject both in words
and in deeds; to say honestly the truth which I see, not to
yield to the natural inclination to speak only of that which
we must all reverence—her greatness of mind and. life, but if
there be spots upon the sun which has lightened so much
darkness, to recognise their presence, though it be half
concealed by the glory, and account for them as best we
may.
First, then, let me say that I am somewhat disappointed in
the autobiography. In parts, it wins the reader completely;
one rejoices with her in her successes, and sympathises in her
disappointments and annoyances. Then there will come some
arrogant expression about the people around her, some glori
fying of others simply because they were her friends, some
scorn, or some other unpleasant egotistical feature, which
breaks the spell for pages.
The pleasantest parts of the book are those in which she
treats of hei’ own inner experiences—where the interest is so
strong that she forgets that she is revealing herself, and talks
naturally, openly, boldly, without self-consciousness. The
least pleasant parts are those in which she speaks of the inci
dents of her life, and the people who were connected, with her
in them.
It must not be imagined that there is in the book any undue
laudation of her own works—any of what would be commonly
called “ conceit.” The reverse is even unpleasantly the case.
It is not agreeable to hear that Miss Martineau thought
Margaret Fuller a “ gorgeous pedant,” that she never had any
respect for Lord Brougham, and that she believed Macaulay
to have “ no heart,” “ honesty,” or “ capacity for philosophy;”
it is not agreeable to contrast with this and very much more
of the same kind, her opinion of Mr. Atkinson, and of some of
her servants; it is even less pleasant to read of the petty per
sonal insults offered her by Mrs. A. and Lady Dash, which she
might well have ignored, or at all events forgotten; but least
pleasant of all is it to read her depreciation of her own works,
her declaration about first one and then another, that she
“dares not read it over now”—she “knows she should des
pise it now,” and so on.
All these drawbacks to the reader’s satisfaction seem to me
to arise from (certainly not “ conceit,” but) the self-conscious-
�Harriet Martineau.
9
ness which is almost inevitable during the writing of a memoir
of one’s self. Could any one of you, my hearers, write out your
whole heart and life unmoved by the knowledge that thousands
of ears are open to receive the story, and that friends and
enemies will sit in judgment upon it, coldly canvassing your
tenderest emotions ? It is impossible; and the very effort
which has to be made to be candid under such circumstances
is in itself the destruction of naturalness and subjective
individuality.
For this reason it is that I never read the autobiography of
any person of whom I had already formed an opinion, from
published writings or public works, without some feeling of
disappointment, except in the single case of Leigh Hunt. This
exception I imagine to arise from the fact that Leigh Hunt
wrote always—poems and essays alike—with his individuality
in his own mind, and brought before the mind of his reader.
Probably Thomas Carlyle would write an autobiography
equally true to the idea of him gained from a perusal of his
Writings, and for the same reason—that all his works are
written with the desire that his readers shall think about the
writer as they read.
In almost every other case, however, the aim of the author
is to keep his personality out of sight, and remembrance of
himself merges in his subject. The result is that he writes
with a freedom and unconsciousness of self which make him
reveal the true inner man far more honestly and unaffectedly
than he can possibly do when he sits down for the express
purpose of telling the world all about his own life.
For this reason, I shall consider Harriet Martineau’s works
as throwing light upon her life to as full an extent as the
autobiography itself, and even more satisfactorily.
Passing on to consider the indirect lessons which may be
gathered from the moulding influences of her career, I come
first to those which acted upon her through the affections—her
relationships of birth or of emotion. Let us see the con
ditions which surrounded this great mind in its early years.
Harriet Martineau might almost be considered as a proof of
the correctness of the doctrine that suffering is necessary to
mental excellence. Born in 1802, the sixth child of a wellto-do Norwich manufacturer, she passed a childhood and youth
of wretchedness both of body and mind; and her misfortunes, to
B
�io
The Lessons of a Life:
all appearance, culminated in early womanhood in the total
loss of fortune. Her deafness was known before her death by
almost every one acquainted with her name, as adding to the
marvel of her accomplishments; but she was not deprived of
this sense during her earliest years. She did not begin to
become deaf until she was twelve years old. She now records,
however, that she never had the sense of smell ; and as this
and taste are most intimately joined together, neither could
she taste. The senses are our only methods of communication
with the outer world; they are the gates by which pleasure as
well as pain enter into the citadel where consciousness resides.
Of all the senses, those which most frequently give entrance
to pleasure and seldomest to pain, were those which she had
lost. Here, then, were two, and soon three, of the avenues of
enjoyment shut. To this physical deprivation was .added the
misery of want of tenderness in family life. Her mother was
a woman of, apparently, much intellect, but deficient in the
gentler qualities, and wanting in the wisdom of the heart.
Miss Martineau speaks of this parent always with the utmost
respect, and indeed affection ; but she does not attempt to dis
guise the melancholy truth that, throughout her childhood, she
was as desolate a little soul as ever felt the burden of life with
out love in workhouse or orphan asylum. She had but small
natural talent for housewifely work, and what she had was
turned into awkwardness by her fear of displeasing her mother.
She remembers once upsetting a basin of sugar into a gibletpie from sheer nervousness ; and she was always so anxious
when sent to look for anything that she never could find it, and
“ her heart sank” when she received an order to fetch a thing.
“ I had,” she says, “ a devouring passion for justice,—justice
first to my own precious self, and then to other oppressed
people. Justice was precisely what was least understood in
our house in regard to servants and children. . . . Toward
one person I was habitually untruthful, from fear. To my
mother I would in childhood assert or deny anything that
would bring me through most easily. I remember denying
various harmless things, and often without any apparent
reason : and this was so exclusively to one person that, though
there was remonstrance and punishment, I was never regarded
as a liar in the family. When I left home all temptation to
untruth ceased.”
�Harriet Martineau.
ii
And this was the “mothering ” of a singularly affectionate
xjhild—‘of one who treasured up in her memory every kind word,
and was so grateful for a little loving gentleness as to prove
how cruel was the deprivation of it! “The least word of
tenderness,” she says, melted me instantly, in spite of the
strongest predeterminations to be hard and offensive. I really
think if I had once conceived that anybody cared for me,
nearly all the sins and sorrows of my anxious childhood
would have been spared me.” She was devotedly attached
to the children who were younger than herself—a sister, and
the brother who has grown up to be known to so wide a public
as Dr. James Martineau. When, at the age of fifteen, she was
sent away to stay with an aunt at Bristol—the first person of
whom she was never afraid—she says, “ My home affections
seem to have been all the stronger for having been repressed
and baulked. Certainly, I passionately loved my family, each
and all, from the very hour that parted us ; and I was physic
ally ill with expectation when their letters were due,—letters
which I could hardly read when they came, between my dread
•of something wrong and the beating heart and swimming eyes
with which I received letters in those days.”
Can one hope that the lesson for parents taught in this por
tion of the story will have effect upon those who are erring
in their treatment of their children in the same way; who are
feeding and caring for the body while neglecting the affections,
and leaving them to pine and grow savage under starvation ;
who are ignoring and neglecting one child of their family,
and filling it with a bitter sense of injustice and desolation ?
Ah, the lesSon has been preached many a time—never more
impressively than in Hans Andersen’s fable of the ugly duck
ling—and with yet little effect. Would that parents would
remember that “ Parents, provoke not your children to wrath,”
■is as urgent a moral command as “ Children, obey your
parents.”
One good, however, this hard discipline doubtless worked in
Harriet Martineau’s character. It gave her endurance under
coldness from those whom she loved. Out of the fear of her
mother’s wrath she grew to that fearlessness which distin
guished her whole after life—she learnt how to suffer and be
still when the cause of right demanded her sacrifice.
I have dwelt thus upon her passionately emotional childhood,
�12
The Lessons of a Life:
however, as being necessary for the due appreciation of the
fact that she lived solitary, and died unfettered and unhelped
by marriage. The suffering which want of love caused her in
her childhood is a token of how capable she was of affection.
The commonplace supposition that the emotions are crowded
out of a mind by the development of the intellect is an utterly
false one, founded upon ignorance of both physiology and
facts.
Before there came the great awakening of the heart in
Harriet Martineau, came her first appearance in print. In
1821, when she was 19 years of age, she wrote a paper upon
“Female Writers of Divinity,” which appeared in a Unitarian
paper conducted by Mr. Moncure Conway’s predecessor at
South-place. She wrote this essay at her brother James’s
suggestion, to console herself upon his departure for
College.
*
When she was two years older than this, she saw for the
first time the man who drew forth her love. Their union was
prevented at the time “ by one who had much to answer for
in what he did.” Then came a failure in her father’s busi
ness, and his heart-broken sinking into the grave ; and when
she was in trouble and difficulties, her lover returned to her.
The cloud which had kept him away was dispelled by this
storm, and he went back and asked her to marry him. She
was in a state of great uncertainty of mind, between her fears
that she would not make him happy, and her love for him;
between her duty to others and to the one to whom her affec
tion was given. “ Many a time,” she says, “ did I wish, in
my fear that I should fail, that I had never seen him. But
just when I was growing happy, surmounting my fears and
doubts, and enjoying his attachment, the consequences of his
long struggle and suspense overtook him. He became sud
denly insane; and after months of illness of body and mind,
he died.”
If we had to rely upon the autobiography for information
as to how this affected Miss Martineau’s character, we should
learn but little about it. It is a proof of what I before said
about the almost impossibility of any person consciously baring
his inner self to the careless gaze of the whole world. One
or two essays published at the time tell us far more both what
love and its loss were to her than she has consented to deli-
�Harriet Martineau.
ij
berately inform the world. These essays bear the general
title of 1 Sabbath. Musings.’ In the preface to the volume in
which they were published, in 1836, she said that the majority
of the pieces therein contained were purely impersonal, de
scriptive of states of thought as she imagined them; but that
a few (which she would not be expected to indicate) were
truly drawn from her own experience. Read with her
autobiography, there is no difficulty in discovering these
latter.
As works of literary art alone, the quotations which I pur
pose giving would be worth listening to; for these are poems.
Her Daily News leaders long after had that term applied to
them ; but here it is more justly used. If, as Mr. Mill said,
“Whoeverwrites out truly any human feeling,writes poetry,”
then these are poems for that reason; but when added to this
there is a wealth of language and of imagery, no one will
venture to deny their right to the title.
But I quote them for a far more important reason than their
poetic beauty. I quote them to show that Harriet Martineau
had a heart—and that she knew she had a heart. I am not
sure but that the most fatal mistake made by the party who
would free mankind from superstition and priestcraft is not
the very fact that they neglect and skim over such subjects.
Priestcraft has its most unassailable stronghold in the inter
mixing of its rites and ceremonies with human interests. The
birth of the child, the union of the life, the burial of the dead,
are the events which appeal to every sympathy—which touch
the coldest hearts, and make them impressible for the moment.
All systems of religion, accordingly, and the Christian (espe
cially the Roman Catholic) religion before all others, have
bound up these moments with sacred observances, so that the
mind may be impressed as the priest desires at its most
ductile moments. Human nature remains and must remain
the same in all ages and climes. If there is any reason to
suppose that development of the intellect means crushing of
the affections; if there is an impression abroad that the Reli
gion of Humanity is the blasphemy of individual emotion; if
it is believed by the masses that only priestcraft recognises
and hallows the most solemn occasions of life ; then, indeed,
Will priestcraft flourish. For human affections will assert
their sway. Every man or woman who loves knows' that his
�14
The Lessons of a Life :
emotion makes him higher and better; every parent who leans1
over the couch of his first child feels that the existence of that
little creature is almost as a new birth to his own spirit; every
human being who lays in the grave the object of his dearest
love, gone for ever from his sight, knows that sorrow is not
to be reasoned away, and if lightened at all is to be lightened
only by the sympathy of the great heart of the race and the
universe with his bleeding soul.
Therefore, I feel that I am doing good service in showing:
that the development of reason means the simultaneous increase
of the power of loving; that to be possessed of mental power
and capacity for breaking away from early-implanted super
stitions does not mean to be incapable for affection and sharing
in the highest and deepest of human emotions. It was much
that John Stuart Mill showed for men the compatibility of
the highest order of intellect and the deepest and most pro
found studies, with a singularly devoted, earnest, and faithful
attachment. Now, let Harriet Martineau show the same for
women; let her show how a woman with an intellect of the
highest order, and occupying it upon the most abstruse sub
jects within the range of human comprehension, could appre
ciate love, and could suffer for the very strength of her
affections. The first passage which I quote seems to have
been written before her bereavement. The marriage to which
she refers is, doubtless, that of her elder sister. The .essay is
entitled^ “ In a Hermit’s Cave.”
“ . . . The altar of the human heart, on which alone a fire is
kindled from above to shine in the faces of all true worshippers for ever.
Where this flame, the glow of human love, is burning, there is the temple
of worship, be it only beside the humblest village hearth: where it has
not been kindled there is no sanctuary; and the loftiest amphitheatre of
mountains, lighted up by the ever-burning stars, is no more the dwelling
place of Jehovah than the Temple of Solomon before it was filled with,
the glory of the Presence.
“ Yes, Love is worship, authorised and approved........................... Many
are the gradations through which this service rises until it has reached
that on which God has bestowed His most manifest benediction, on
which Jesus smiled at Cana, but which the devotee presumed to
decline. Not more express were the ordinances of Sinai than the
Divine provisions for wedded love ; never was it more certain that
Jehovah benignantly regarded the festivals of His people than
it is daily that He appointed those mutual rejoicings of the affec
tions, which need but to be referred to Him to become a holy homage.
....................Would that all could know how from the first flow of
�Harriet Martineau^
T5
the affections, until they are shed abroad in their plenitude, the purposes
of creation become fulfilled. Would that all could know how, by
this mighty impulse, new strength is given to every power; how the
intellect is vivified and enlarged; how the spirit .becomes bold to explore
the path of life, and clear-sighted to discern its issues. .... For
that piety which has humanity for its object—must not that heart feel
most of which tenderness has become the element? must not the spirit
which is most exercised in hope and fear be most familiar with hope
and fear wherever found ?
“ How distinctly I saw all this in those who are .now sanctifying their
first, Sabbath of wedded love....................... To those who know them as
I know them, they appear already possessed of an experience in com
parison with which it would appear little fo have looked abroad from,
the Andes, or explored the treasure-caves of the deep, or to have con
versed with every nation under the sun. If they could see all that the
eyes of the firmament look upon, and hear all the whispered secrets that
the roving winds bear in their bosoms, they could learn but little new I
for the deepest mysteries are those of human love, and the vastest
knowledge is that of the human heart.”
The next quotation is a very small portion of an essay
entitled, “ A Death Chamber.” This was obviously written
immediately after the death of her lover. The piece is,
to a certain extent, spoiled by being mutilated; but I
have no option but to give only the following few lines
from it:—
“All is dull, cold, and dreary before me, until I also can escape to
the region where there is no bereavement, no blasting root and branch,
no rending of the heart-strings. What is aught to me, in the midst of this
all-pervading thrilling torture, when all I want is to be dead? The
future is loathsome, and I will not look upon it—the past, too, which it
breaks my heart to think about—what has it been? It might have been
happy, if there is such a thing as happiness ; but I myself embittered it
at the time, and for ever. What a folly has mine been! Multitudes
of sins now rise up in the shape of besetting griefs. Looks of rebuke
from those now in the grave: thoughts which they would have rebuked
if. they had known them: moments of anger, of coldness; sympathy
withheld when looked for; repression of its signs through selfish pride ;
and worse, far worse even than this .... all comes over me
now. O 1 if there be pity, if there be pardon, let it come in the form
of insensibility; for these long echoes of condemnation will make me
desperate.
“But was there ever human love unwithered by crime—by crime of
which no human law takes cognisance, but the unwritten, everlasting
laws of the affections? Many will call me thus innocent. The departed
breathed out thanks and blessing, and I felt them not then as reproaches.
If, indeed, I am only as others, shame, shame on the impurity of human
affections ; or rather, alas! for the infirmity of the human heart! Fori
know not that I could love more than I have loved.
�16
The Lessons of a Life :
“ Since the love itself is wrecked, let me gather up its relics, and
guard them more tenderly, more steadily, more gratefully. 0 grant me
power to retain them—the light and music of emotion, the flow of
domestic wisdom and chastened mirth, the life-long watchfulness of
benevolence, the thousand thoughts—are these gone in their reality ?
Must I forget them as others forget ?”
And for this Harriet Martineau lived her life alone—a happy
life, one full of all human interests; doing good to her ser
vants, her animals, and her poorer neighbours, for her domestic
pleasures, and for relief from cares of state and thoughts sub
lime. Thus she saved herself from that degenerating into
selfishness which is the special danger of an independent
single life for either men or women. Whether she might not
have been better and happier in marriage, had her lover been
spared to her, it is impossible to imagine. “ When I see,”
she writes, “what conjugal love is, in the extremely rare cases
in which it is seen in its perfection, I feel that there is a power
of attachment in me that has never been touched. When I
am among little children, it frightens me to think what my
idolatry of my own children would have been. But . . the
older I have grown, the more serious and irremediable have
seemed to me the evils and disadvantages of married life as it
exists among us at this time.” And here, no doubt, she is
right. The vicious state of the marriage laws and social
arrangements, the consequence of the imperfect system by
which regulations have been made for both sexes and their
mutual interests by the partial knowledge and wisdom of one
sex alone, does make marriage a terribly dangerous step for a
woman. And she was probably wise when she added, “ Thus,
I am not only entirely satisfied with my lot, but think it the
very best for me.”
As regards the cultivation which Harriet Martineau’s intel
lect received in her childhood, there is a very significant
fact to be noted: that she adds one more to the long list of
illustrious women who have, through some happy accident,
'1been educated “ like boys.” When one remembers that this
phrase means nothing more than that the education has been
thorough in its method, and has included careful mathematical
and classical teaching, no surprise can be felt at the frequency
with which eminent women are found to have shared in the
tutorial advantages of their brothers. The moral is obvious.
Now for her religious growth. Miss Martineau was born
�Harriet Martineau.
17
<of Unitarian parents, and educated theologically in the tenets
of that sect. When she was twenty-eight years old, she dis
tinguished herself among the members of the Unitarian body
fey gaining three prizes, which had been offered for public
competition, for essays designed to convert Jews, Mahommedans, and Roman Catholics respectively, to the more
advanced faith. Although she was still, at that period,
sufficiently an orthodox Unitarian to perform this argumenta
tive exploit to the satisfaction and admiration of the leaders of
the sect, yet she had long before emancipated her mind, to some
extent, from even the comparatively light chains of that faith.
So early as when she was but eleven years old, she remembers
asking her elder brother Thomas that question which has
been the first stumbling-block in the path of faith to so many.
She asked—If God foreknew from eternity all the evil deeds
that every one of us should do in our lives, how can He justly
punish us for those actions, when the time comes that we are
born, and in due course commit them ? And her brother replied
that she was not yet old enough to understand the point.
Whether she ever did become old enough to understand, the
course of her mental history will show.
By-and-by, under the guidance of Dr. Carpenter, of
Bristol, she became a student of the philosophy of Locke and
Hartley; and in time she raised herself to the reception of the
philosophical doctrine of Necessity. But she had a terrible
season of doubt and struggle with early-implanted impressions
to encounter, before she could permit herself to let go one
fraction of her theology. C’est le premier pas qui coute;
and she probably suffered more in this first step onward than
in all her future progress. Her description of her agonies of
doubt is most forcible; but it is only the experience which all
who have equally cut themselves loose from their early belief
have felt, and I quote it for the benefit of the persons who
are so constituted as to be incapable of ever knowing it
in their own lives, and who are apt to believe that the
rejection of belief is a pleasant process, wilfully entered on
by those who are guilty of it, and affording to them great
present delights.
“What can be the retribution of guilt if the horrors of doubt are
what I have felt them? What can be the penalties of vice if those of
mere ignorance are so agonising? While in my childhood I ignorantly
�I&
The Lessons of a Life :
believed what men had told me of God, much that was true, mixed with
much that I now see to be puerile, or absurd, or superstitious, or impious
I was at peace with men, and, as I then believed, with God. But when
an experience over which I had no control shook my confidence in that
which I held; when I had discovered and rejected some of the falsehoods,
of my creed, and when I was really wiser than before the torment
began which was destined to well nigh wrench life from my bosom
or reason from my brain ... I could not divest myself of the
conviction that my doubts were so many sins. Men told me, and I
could not but believe, that to want faith was a crime ; that misery like
mine was but a qualification for punishment, and that every evil of
which I now complained would be aggravated hereafter. Alas! what
was to become of me if I could find no rest even in my grave ?—if the
death I longed for was to be only apparent—if the brightness which I
found so oppressive here should prove only like the day-spring in com
parison with the glow of the eternal fires, amidst which my spirit must
stand hereafter ? In such moments, feeling that there was no return to
the ignorance of the child or the apathy of common men, I prayed, to
whom I know not, for madness!
“Yet I would not that the cup had passed from me. Far nobler is
the most humiliating depression of doubt than the false security of
acquiescence in human delusion. Far safer are the wanderings of a
mind which by original vigour has freed itself from the shackles of
human authority, than the apathy of weak minds which makes them
content to be led blindfold wheresoever their priestly guides shall choose.
The happiest lot of all is to be born into the way of truth . . . but
where, as in my case, it is not so ordained, the next best privilege is to
be roused to a conflict with human opinions (provided there is strength
to carry it through), though it be fought in darkness, in horror, in
despair.”
At length, as the final words of this passage convey, she made
her way to her first definite standpoint, and settled by her
reason the question which her faith had never been able to
solve satisfactorily. She fully accepted the Necessitarian doc
trine that we are what we are, we do what we do, because of
the impulses given by our previous training and circum
stances ; and that the way to improve any human beings or all
humanity is to improve their education, and to give them good
surroundings and influences, and mental associations: in
short, that . physical and psychological phenomena alike
depend upon antecedent phenomena, called causes. She
writes:—
“I fairly laid hold of the conception of general laws, while still far
from being. prepared to let go the notion of a special Providence.
Though at times almost overwhelmed by the vastness of the view opened
to me, and by the prodigious change requisite in my moral views and
self-management, the revolution was safely gone through. My labouring
�Harriet Martineau.
19
brain and beating heart grew quiet, and something more like peace than
I had ever yet known settled down upon my anxious mind. ....
I am bound to add that the moral effect of this process was most salu
tary and cheering. From the time when I became convinced of the
certainty of the action of laws, of the importance of good influences and
good habits—of the firmness, in short, of the ground I was treading, and.
of the security of the results which I should take the right means to
attain, a new vigour pervaded my whole life, a new light spread through
my mind, and I began to experience a steady growth in self-command,,
courage, and consequent integrity and disinterestedness. I was feeble
and selfish enough at best; but yet I was like a new creature in the
strength of a sound conviction. Life also was something fresh and won
derfully interesting now that I held in my hand this key whereby toi
interpret some of the most conspicuous of its mysteries.
“ . . . For above thirty years I have seen more and more clearly
how awful, and how irremediable except by the spread of a true philo
sophy, are the evils which arise from that monstrous remnant of old
superstition—the supposition of a self-determining power, independent
of laws, in the human will; and I can truly say that if I have had the
blessing of any available strength under sorrow, perplexity, sickness and
toil, during a life which has been anything but easy, it is owing to my.
repose upon eternal and irreversible laws, working in every department
of the universe, without any interference from any random will, humanor Divine.”
When her mind became fairly settled in the doctrine of
necessity, she could not but perceive the uselessness of prayer ;
since to petition the Supreme Power for any given thing is to
imply a belief that It can or will set aside the action of fixed
laws. First, therefore, she ceased supplicating for benefits;
and, in time, she came to feel that even the expression of
desires for spiritual goods was “ demoralising.” “ I found
myself,” she says, “ best, according to all trustworthy tests of
goodness, when I thought least about the matter.” As to
praise, she soon “ drew back in shame from offering to a
Divine Being a homage which would be offensive to an
earthly one.” And at last, when “prayer” in the ordinary
sense had become quite impossible to her—
“My devotions consisted of aspiration—very frequent and heartfelt—
under all circumstances and influences, and much as I meditate now,,
almost hourly, on the mysteries of life and the universe, and the great
science and art of human duty. In proportion as the taint of fear and
desire and self-regard fell off, and the meditation had fact instead of
passion for its subject, the aspiration became freer and sweeter, till at
length, when the selfish superstition had wholly gone out of it, it spread
its charm through every change of every waking hour—and does now,
when life itself is expiring.”
• ask 4-- -’
�20
The Lessons of a Life :
Gradation by gradation she went on : not willing altogether
to give up belief in Christianity, in the Divine authorisation
of the mission of Jesus, she “ lingered long in the regions of
speculation and taste.” At last came the illness to which I
have already referred; and in it, with leisure for contempla
tion, she rose by degrees to the highest religious state of all—
rejecting theological figments, refusing to believe in a God of
love and mercy who yet made a world with evil in it, and con
demned the creatures whom he exposed to its irresistible
temptations, to eternal torment—an infinite punishment for
finite sins. She saw that all conception of the mode of origin,
or the scheme or nature of the universe, is above and beyond
the comprehension of man ; she saw that our work here is to
*
‘do our best for the improvement of ourselves and those who
shall come after us; that all our “ looking before and after,”
all our attempts to pierce the veil which is around us, all our
foolish vain imaginings, based upon the ridiculous assumption
that this world is the centre of the universe, and man its
highest product—all are but vanity and vexation of spirit,
and must be discarded at the dictates of reason and scientific
fact.
This state of conviction was farther strengthened and con
firmed by a visit which she paid in 1846 to the East—the
birthplace of the Christian religion, and its progenitors, the
Hebrew and Egyptian. In connection with the book which
she wrote upon her return home, she seriously considered
whether she should avow her dissent, which by this time was
■complete, from all theologies. Finally, she decided that this
book was not the proper place for it.
In 1850 appeared ‘ Letters between H. Martineau and
H. G. Atkinson, on Man’s Nature and Development.’ I am
not criticising Mr. Henry G. Atkinson, or I should find it neces
* “ I began to see that we, with our mere human faculty, are nnt in
the least likely to understand it, anymore than the minnow in the creek,
as Carlyle has it, can comprehend the perturbations caused in his world
of existence by the tides. I saw that no revelation can by possibility
set men right on these matters, for want of faculty in man to understand
anything beyond human ken ; as all instruction whatever offered to the
minnow mnst fail to make it comprehend the actions of the moon on
the. oceans of the earth, or receive the barest conception of any such
action.”—‘ Autobiography,' vol. ii., p. 185.
�Harriet Martineau.
21
sary to say a great deal about this book. Fortunately, I am
not called upon to say anything about it more than this—that,
as both Mr. Atkinson and Miss Martineau avow several times
over, the book is really his work. She did the literary arrange
ment and supervision; and she wrote short letters to serve as
a groundwork for Mr. Atkinson’s disquisitions.
The only important connection which Miss Martineau
had with this book was giving it her name, and thus
announcing to the world her total disbelief in all theologies.
It is hardly necessary to say that she never stepped back
from this advanced position. It is one of the special excel
lences which persuasions grounded upon reason have over
beliefs resting upon unreasoning faith, that any alterations in
them (provided the logical apparatus remains sound), must of
necessity be changes in the direction of still farther throwing
off shackles upon thought.
Intellectual fearlessness is one of the great lessons taught
by this branch of Harriet Martineau’s life history. She
carried the powerful reason which she possessed into every
question; and having found that which satisfied her mind
of its truth, she never hesitated to avow it. Stand
ing, as she believed, on the very brink of the grave
when she wrote her autobiography, she contemplated death
with happy calmness, content with having done her share for
the advancement of her age, and fully convinced that others
would rise to take up the work which she laid down. Satis
fied to hope for rest in the grave instead of a personal immor
tality, rejoicing in the belief that the human race is slowly
but surely progressing toward higher things, and that the
greatest privilege that any man or woman can have had is to
have aided that progress if but one fraction of a step, she
was ready to spend the remainder of her life in workingfor her fellows, and in enjoying the sympathy and love of her
associates.
Singularly enough, twenty years of life remained to her after
she wrote the closing words of her autobiography. The heart
disease which then threatened to kill her every day did not
do so for twenty years longer. And so well did she employ
that time, that those who could not see with her clearness
were constrained to believe that God helped her against her own
will to be happy and holy; that some of hei’ friends rejoiced
�22
The Lessons of a Life :
■when she died that heaven itself was now her habitation;
and that her Christian relatives could not omit the bad taste
-of having a Christian religious service, full of that hope of
immortality which she had not, read over the grave where
they laid her.
It were to be wished that the lesson hereby taught of the
-complete compatibility of a most truly moral and holy life
with a total disbelief in any future and eternal punishments
would be laid to heart by the persons who need it most. There
is small hope that it will be ; for the same fact has been shown
by many a noble life before, as well as by a priori reasoning
upon the small practical effect which far-distant punishments,
rendered likewise uncertain by a scheme of redemption through
faith, not works, can ever have on the mind; but still its
possibility is denied ! “ Dogmatic faith compels the best minds
and hearts to narrowness and insolence. Even such as these
cannot conceive lof being happy in any way but theirs, or
that there may be views whose operation they do not under
stand.”* There the lesson is, however, be it received or
rejected.
It is an interesting inquiry whether Miss Martineau herself
would have sanctioned the use in this connection of the word
^‘religious.” In a chapter in which Mrs. Chapman gives
recollections of conversations with her (and in which there
are several things that might better have been omitted, since
no authorisation for their publicity can have been given by
Miss Martineau), her biographer says that she objected to such
a use of the term “ religion.” My own judgment is the reverse.
I cannot see how we are to avoid the word so long as we wish
to express the idea. By the word religion, we mean always
all those impulses to good and right, all that seeking for holi
ness, all that desire for the best in living, all that longing for
truth, purity, and strength in righteousness as we see these
things, which are our highest and sweetest emotions. What
other word can we use to express all this, except the one which
always has been used ? It is therefore a satisfaction to me to
be able to place against Mrs. Chapman’s report from memory
Harriet Martineau’s own words in the Daily News autobio
graphical memoir. ■“ Her latest opinions were, in her own
* ‘ Autobiography,’ vol. ii., p. 442.
�Harriet Martineau.
23
view, the most religious, the most congenial with the
emotional as well as the rational department of human
■nature.”*
I have purposely given the story of her religious growth in
her own words, without unnecessary interpolation of my own
expressions, and without criticising any of her opinions from
■an individual point of view.
Harriet Martineau never shrank from giving any work to
the world for fear of the criticism it might receive. In 1829,
she, with her mother and sister, was reduced to utter destitu
tion by the failure of the concern in which all their property
was invested. Two years later appeared the first of the
works which made her fame, but in relation to one of which
she was most bitterly attacked—her ‘ Tales in Political
Economy.’
During this two years she supported herself by her needle ;
and when she first made known that she intended to exchange
that little implement for the pen, there were not wanting
several persons to tell her that such a course would be both
unwise and improper, that needle-work was her proper sphere
as a woman, and that she should confine her efforts to doing
what it was certain she could do. Had she taken this orthodox
counsel she would have bent over her stitches from morning
to night for a miserable pittance, and the world would have
lost all she has given it.
Unknown outside the despised and small sect to which she
then belonged, she had great difficulty in getting a •publisher
to undertake her books; and they were at last issued upon
terms which gave her all the risk, and her publisher about
seventy per cent, of the profits. When this arrangement was
settled, she was in such poverty that she could not afford to
ride even part of the way from the publisher’s office to the
* And again. . . . . “ The best state of mind was to be found,
however it might be accounted for, in those who were called philoso
phical atheists....................I told her that I knew several of that class
—some avowed, and some not; and that I had for several years felt
that they were among my most honoured acquaintances and friends;
and that now I knew them more deeply and thoroughly, I must say that,
for conscientiousness, sincerity, integrity, seriousness, effective intellect,
and the. true religious spirit I knew nothing like them.”—‘ Autobio
graphy,’ yo\. ii., p. 188.
�24
The Lessons of a Life:
house of the relative with whom she was staying in London ;
and she relates that she became so weary and faint as she
walked, that she leant to rest upon a railing somewhere near
Shoreditch, apparently contemplating a cabbage-bed, but
really saying to herself, with shut eyes, “ My books will do
yet 1 ”
And they did “ do.” No sooner had the first volume ap
peared than the poor little deaf Unitarian was famous, and
hailed as a new light among men. As she went on, illus
trating with scientific precision and clearness first one and
then another of the principal doctrines of Political Economy,
the attention of the great men of her day was drawn to her
work. She went through a course of flattery and attempts
at “ lionising ” which would have ruined a weaker character ;
and the chief political men of her time, from the Ministry
downwards, made overtures for her valuable co-operation in
preparing the public mind for their schemes.
But popularity could not spoil her. She knew the dangers
she would have to encounter in treating some subjects ; but, she
said, what was influence worth except to be used in propa
gating truth
Accordingly, when she came to the proper
point for illustrating the population doctrine, she unhesitat
ingly treated it, as she had done all preceding parts of her
subject. Her book was called 1 Weal and Woe in Garveloch.’ The story showed how the inhabitants of a small
island had gone on recklessly increasing their numbers, and
how a temporary failure in some of their sources of food
supply reduced them immediately to the utmost destitution.
The scientific moral was taught that it is dangerous and wrong
to multiply the population even up to the extreme limit of its
food-supply, and that sickness and famine will eventually step
in, in such a case, to do that which prudence should have done
before—equalise the food and its consumers.
Mr. Malthus’s name has become so associated among us
with a doctrine, has been so much used to express a scientific
principle, that he is to us quite an impersonal being; and it is
interesting to read Miss Martineau’s account of him as an
individual. She describes him as one of the mildest and most
benignant of men, full of domestic affections.
Upon the issue of this number she was attacked by Lock
hart and John Wilson Croker, in the Quarterly Review, in the
�Harriet Martineau, i.
>25
most violent and scandalous manner. One cannot but wonder
that such expressions and insinuations should have been tole
rated by the readers of such a periodical. Seldom has so
malicious and cruel a personal attack disfigured the pages of
a respectable review. Croker openly said that he expected
to lose his pension very shortly, and being wishful to make
himself a literary position before that event happened
he had begun by “ tomahawking Miss Martineau.” All that
could be painful to her as a woman, and injurious to her
as a writer, was said, or attempted to be conveyed, in this
article.
It pained her intensely, but it eventually did her good.
She had one of those temperaments which belong to all
leaders of men, whether in physical or moral warfare ; danger
was to her a stimulus, and her courage rose the higher the
greater the demand upon it.
The lesson which we are to learn from it is the one already
impressed upon us by this life of fearless speaking the truth,
as we may see it, irrespective of its consequences to ourselves.
Our eyes are weak, and cannot pierce the veil which covers
the future. The only safe course for any one of us to pursue
is to do that which we see and know to be right at the
moment, leaving our future to take care of itself; to act up
to our principles, assured that a policy of unprincipled tem
porary expediency must end at last in failure and dismay.
Encouragement, too, for speaking our truth, whatever it
be, we may get from this history; though it must be acknow
ledged that those who require such encouragement will
seldom be the ones to utter dangerous truths. Five times in
her literary history did Harriet Martineau, print that which
she had cause to believe might ruin her prospects, close her
career, and silence her voice for ever; yet she died honoured
and respected by all classes and conditions of people, and
having had her words listened to always with the fullest
respect and readiness.
Another of the subjects upon which she wrote, and fer
which she was severely criticised, was Mesmerism. From
1839 to 1844, Miss Martineau was a confirmed invalid, con
fined to her couch, unable to stand upright, constantly sick,
and full of pain. She was pronounced incurable by Sir
Charles Clarke in 1841. For three years she took iodide of
�o6
The Lessons of a Life ;
iron, and was continually under the influence of opiates. There
was no improvement in her condition in the summer of 1844,
when she consented to be mesmerised, first by Mr. Spencer
Hall, and later by Mrs. Wynyard, the widow of a clergyman.
In five months she was well enough to start off to the English
lakes, and visiting among her relatives, and presently even to
go away upon her fatiguing tour in the East.
I have neither time this afternoon, nor inclination at present,
to offer any comment upon this case. There were the
remarkable facts, whatever their explanation; and Harriet
Martineau was not one to shrink from the public avowal of
what she knew, for fear of the abuse or pain it might bring
to her. As a swimmer grows stronger with breasting the
waves, so did her mind gain in strength every time it was
necessary for her to come into direct collision with popular
opinion.
Her writings contain many direct lessons, some of which have
been already referred to, that the world either has learnt or
yet must learn. Prominent among the latter are the lessons
which her works ever taught to men as to the estimation in
which they have to hold the sex to which the writer belonged.
There has been far too much heard in past time of men’s
opinions both of women and of themselves; now we must
begin to hear the reverse—both what women think of men,
and what women know and think about women.
Miss Martineau, in common with every other woman of
intellect and courage in this age, of necessity most earnestly
desired the success of what is known as “ the woman move
ment,” and did her best for its advancement. Long before
the claim for suffrage for women became a “ movement
before the women who desire its concession had banded them
selves together to obtain it, she had lifted up her voice as one
crying in the wilderness. In her early years, she wrote, in an
essay upon Walter Scott, a noble protest against the crushing
of women’s capacities, the condemning them to waste their
energies upon petty trifles and ignoble ends, the frittering
away of their existence, and then the presumptuous reproach
of them for not doing great things, of which men have
dared to be guilty. In the book which she published about
* Society in America,’ in 1837, she wrote:—
“ The Emperor of Russia discovers when a eoat-of-arms and title do
�Harriet Martineau.
27
not agree with a subject prince: the King of France early discovers that
the air of Paris does not agree with a free-thinking foreigner. The
English Tories feel the hardship that it would be to impose the franchise
■on every artisan, busy as he is in getting bread. The Georgian Planter
perceives the hardship that freedom would be to his slaves. And the
best friends of half the human race peremptorily decide for them as to
their rights, their duties, their feelings, and their powers. In all these
cases, the persons thus cared for feel that the abstract decision rests
with themselves, that though they may be compelled to submit they need
not acquiesce.
It is pleaded that half the human race does acquiesce in the decision
of the other half as to their rights and duties. . . . Such acquies
cence proves nothing but the degradation of the injured party. It
inspires the same emotions of pity as the supplication of the freed slave
\to his master to restore him to slavery that he may have his animal
wants supplied, without being troubled with human rights and duties.
Acquiescence like this is an argument which cuts the wrong way for
those who use it.
“ But this acquiescence is only partial; and to give any semblance of
strength to the plea, the acquiescence must be complete. I for one do
not acquiesce. I declare that whatever obedience I yield to the laws of
society is a matter between, not the community and myself, but my
judgment and my will: any punishment inflicted upon me for the breach
of thbse laws I should regard as so much gratuitous injury : for to those
laws I have never, actually or virtually, assented. I know that there
are women in England, I know that there are women in America, who
agree with me in this. The plea of acquiescence is invalidated by us.”
But this same lesson of the right and the duty of women to
participate in the public work for the public weal, Harriet
Martineau taught to men far more emphatically by what she
did than by what she said. No words, however eloquent, no
pleadings, however forcible, could have the effect which the
story of her life’s work must have. Bor this member of a sex
“ which loves personal government,” was the author of some
of the most emphatic warnings against meddling legislation
that ever were penned.
*
This member of a sex “ by nature
slaves to superstition,” did as much as any one living in this
century to clear away the dust from men’s eyes, and encourage
freedom of thought. This member of a sex “ opposed to all
liberal movements,” was a shining light of the most Radical
of Radical parties. This member of a sex “ incapable of un
derstanding politics,” was secretly provided by the Ministry
with facts in the hope that she would use them to instruct the
‘ The Factory Controversy,’ 1855.—‘ Autobiography,’ vol. ii., p. 449.
�28
The Lessons of a Life :
people upon the forthcoming budget; was implored by the
Excise Commissioners to use their facts for the same end :
was entreated by Oscar of Sweden to make the world ac
quainted with the politics and position of his country—by
Daniel O’Connell to plead the cause of Ireland as none other
had done or could do, calmly, truthfully, understanding^, and
without fear or favour—and by Count Porro to lend the
strength of her exposition to Lombardy against Austria : nay,
was even the source of a great part of the political education and
opinions of the very men who presume to make such asser
tions, through her one thousand six hundred and forty-two
leading articles in the principal Liberal newspaper, the Daily
News.
Yes, Harriet Martineau’s life teaches a most valuable lesson
to men—both to those who oppose and to those who support
the giving a political existence to women. To those who
oppose it, she has shown the fallacy of their confidentlyexpressed belief about women; she has shown them that it is
impossible to predict the action of others in a position in which
they never yet have been seen; she has shown them that their
audacious certainties about the necessary influence of sex upon
thought are so many ignorant and contemptible assumptions;
she has shown them—what general history might have shown
them, had they been capable of reading its lessons—that to
give liberty is the only way to procure the virtues of freedom,
and that the course of human beings in emancipation must in
the nature of things be other than their course in subjection.
And to the men who have already determined that right and
justice must be done, irrespective of any minor considerations,
this life’s work gives encouragement: it gives them faith in
the principle of justice ; it helps them to see the good which
their efforts will at last produce—the improvement in women
and the aid to progress; it assists them to despise the fore
bodings of the politically ignorant who now echo those fears
which have always preceded reforms, and always been falsified ;
it makes them believe more firmly that all women will dis
prove the prophets’ declamations when the thing comes
which must come, as Harriet Martineau has disproved them
already.
To women she teaches a similar lesson, both directly and
indirectly. She teaches us to do something. Her purse and
�Harriet Martineau.
29
her pea alike were ever ready to aid women’s causes ; but far
more than these could do she has done by her whole life’s work.
And every woman who does any one thing well, humble though
it may appear; every woman who dares to think, to speak, and
to act for herself, has learnt the great lesson, and does more for
her sex than the most eloquent words or the most untiring
effort of the greatest of men can do for us. We must help
ourselves ; and we must do it by proving our capacity in our
varied spheres, from housekeeping up to leader-writing, and
by our mental vigour and independence.
Posthumous fame was as nought to Harriet Martineau. She
knew that, as the poet of our era, Tennyson, has it:
“The fame that follows death is nothing to us.”
And as the whole of her life shows, she never did anything so
unworthy, and so sure to result in disgrace, as following any
•course for the sake of the reputation and influence it would
bring her. Nevertheless, she must ever stand prominent in
the history of this wonderful century. For it is a wonderful
century, though we may be too close to it to recognise its
greatness, and though it must be left for the children of our
children’s children to compare it with other epochs, and mark
its wondrousness. In an earlier age, a Harriet Martineau
would have been impossible. Her existence, and the work she
did, are at once tokens and results of civilisation and progress.
The development of mind has brought the moment for the exer
cise of the power which resides in the physically weak. The
age which has the telescope wherewith to explore the distant
universe; the age which has the microscope, to reveal undreamt
of life and hidden mysteries; which has the electric telegraph
and the steam-engine to carry thought around the globe; which
has the printing-press to multiply the words of the thinker until
they can reach all who are ready to hear them; is an age such
as the world never knew before, and for which new provisions
and social arrangements must be made. This century has
either discovered or applied to practical use all these marvels ;
this century has repealed the Corn Laws, recognising in free
trade the brotherhood of all mankind,—has freed the slave in
civilised lands,—has emancipated other slaves from the serfdom
in which wealth had so long held them,—and now only needs to
cast aside for ever the slavery of sex to give it immortal pre-
�30
The Lessons of a Life : Harriet Martineau.
eminence. Yes, although we are too close to the achievements
of onr time to see all its glories, as
“King Arthur’s self to Lady Guinevere was flat,”
yet it is a glorious age, one worth the living in, worth the
working in. And she who has shared in so many of its great
nesses, who has wrought in so many of its nobly-successful
struggles, must live with it, so that future ages shall honour
the name of Harriet Martineau.
FEINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
�The Society’s Lectures now Printed are—
Miss MARY E. BEE DY. On “Joint Education of Young
Men and Women in the American Schools and Colleges.”
Mr. G. BROWNING. “ The Edda Songs and Sagas of Iceland.”
Dr. W. B. CARPENTER. On “ The Doctrine of Human Au
tomatism.”
Professor CLIFFORD. On “ Body and Mind.”
On “ The first and the last Catastrophe : A criticism on some
recent speculations about the duration of the Universe.”
On “ Right and Wrong ; the scientific ground of their distinction.”
Mr. EDWARD CLODD. On “The birth and growth of
Myth, and its survival in Folk Lore, Legend and Dogma.”
Mr. WM. HENRY DOMVILLE. On “The Rights and
Duties of Parents in regard to their children’s religious
education and beliefs.” With notes.
Mr. A. ELLEY FINCH. On “ Erasmus, his Life, Works, and
Influence upon the Spirit of the Reformation.”
On “Civilization; its modern safeguardsand future prospects.”On “ The Influence of Astronomical Discovery in the Develop
ment of the Human Mind.” With Woodcut Illustrations.
Miss F. FENWICK MILLER. On “ The Lessons of a Life :
Harriet Martineau.”
Dr. G. G. ZERFFI. “ A Dissertation on the Origin and the
abstract and concrete Nature of the Devil.”
On “ The spontaneous Dissolution of Ancient Creeds.”
On “ Ethics and ^Esthetics; or, Art in its influence on our
Social Progress.”
On “ Dogma and Science.”
The price of each of the above Lectures is 3d., or post-free 3|d.
Professor CLIFFORD. On “ Atoms ; being an Explanation of
what is Definitely Known about them.” Price Id. Two,
post-free, 2|d.
Mr. A. ELLEY FIN CH. On “ The Pursuit of Truth ; as
exemplified in the Principles of Evidence—Theological,
Scientific, and Judicial.” With copious Notes and Authori
ties. Price 5s., oi' post-free 5s. 3d., cloth 8vo., pp. 106.
On “ The Inductive Philosophy: with a parallel between
Lord Bacon and A. Comte.” With Notes and Authorities.
Same price. Cloth 8vo., pp. 100.
Mr. EDWARD MAITLAND. On “ Jewish Literature and
Modern Education ; or, the use and misuse of the Bible in
the Schoolroom,” Price Is. 6d., or post-free Is. 8d.
Dr. PATRICK BLACK. On “ Respiration; or, Why do we
breathe ? ” Price Is. 6d. or Is. 8d. post-free.
Can be obtained (on remittance of postage stamps) of the Hon.
Treasurer, Wm. Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Cres
cent, Hyde Park, W., or at the Hall on the days of Lecture;
or of Mr. J. Bumpus, Bookseller, 158 Oxford Street, W.
�$ .
*
.idSTL .’- 7 7,-JZ Mk
.
1 btl.T SiOOd.'.T:’!
t-1
i : "’-Tn
1 Iv ^Ai’K>-c£ Ml'"
... '
7TZl«in •'' ?
-jM
.a .w -.ri'
dte.-n-ti
"''
r k vb'jS? a/n< - ■'.;.
. ’ } ■ r;.^r,<T
■ ;F'.. '>.' ZxJ »<•
77) 7-:.:’ •• .ft i.-.V. . .
; .b la soi-7 'jb 4hPf^h.' r ■ ’."(■ .■.'«),■. ■.> • . fiS-J '?'■)
‘ tT ■' .• Hi
!<■ »aiweg t/i i;.;l . .. •: h ; grwjiW Jta«: '
Fj-a
,•
77 ? . ?ZT ; 7O;
.'UY7I). tta’77'7 7
*
/iM
*
'■'uwaatt bos L rAidl ,nt--.I :77£ ai fe-rivi.r _• L;r .tfJrM
bssj^.tyjfe
YtfZSlH
.■.'.if jtfn aS'-yibr.rj lintir o; bwaftt ni sinais
!
*
i >
illiW 'Mhifo- Lar, a
ta
t<j7T
*
'
*
-.SKt
•
;'
ot>
.A t¥
P.fen Mt TO j’ -?.[':' Of!? 'WXpT oocisafi ill
l
. - . :."’x-riq tirrftd foucsbi.i^s-l.-t- a t;.'?.' s.
; tsotj utHivf.)“• aO
£ .all 9<i; at tewo^ £ Iroh-toaodsA 3o ■' "enftii. oHT 11 r.O
• foitr/rfaaill
d-tiVF w.%uiM afttiiuH od; io iauti
/[« laa^,:J
.FTIJI.1 <7 al .7 <7 7.711 .r£ asM
*
'•.-.v.jfu real teirrnll
? 7
Tii^rtO M; k'> in'lc+lBwiflr
.© .0 .-rj
. f’Z >».L ??It it) t
'<■>?;:'>.•.
. j :<■ .’ :
’MfeeO tu-aiaaA io noitiit<wr</r;
: sdij:i aC
■ o <- ?
?it xiHjA /to :?-£7Z7''r_ Ru ®:J;a !> r'?
• 7 <W
”
u,iMnh -»<T Ll’^oP
,7'y oyd-i-.acf ia rbC & asrmlse.X
V/rf- .? ia oaiiq o
lo fwbrrrl-xSC «£ gais i ’ aaptA. ■ s
>
*
& • .,•'
.awT J»I gol'i^E '’,.ar?aM:<,'> I'. it v-crr'l Yll'lTl ai 77.-'
■'
1 '
' ' ■
■c FdimrT xo dI-'.-/x z-dT * ‘■flO .W) 1'IYIVZ
latcni-ll o.r'- di bo?.'.’'
..: •'
■
-i ' .7 • 7 I iris toloJf e;j7 1460 ;7.7 ZL.;\iluX W
jy>I .c(c('t.c78 il)ol i> vbG . '7 as';?^. ■■■/■ no .',7;
: •.’rfc-I F /.■■''•'■ - a <71
'.’S-jfr. -1 HT
o
*
' iFti»A
bttft afioZt 77s; ’
.(X;
•vof&l AiwV 11 aO
17-jisfp.'f t f c.c
.7 Xi'ft-Face *fa
?A
7V
F
.1
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The lessons of a life : Harriet Martineau. A lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, St George's Hall, Langham Place, on Sunday afternoon, 11th March, 1877
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Miller, Florence Fenwick
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 30 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Includes bibliographical references. Publisher's list inside back cover. Printed by C.W. Reynell, Little Pulteney Street, London. Harriet Martineau was a British social theorist and Whig writer, often cited as the first female sociologist. Florence Fenwick Miller (sometimes Fenwick-Miller, 1854–1935) was an English journalist, author and social reformer of the late 19th and early 20th century. She was for four years the editor and proprietor of The Woman's Signal, an early and influential feminist journal. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Sunday Lecture Society
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
N488
Subject
The topic of the resource
Harriet Martineau
Women's rights
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The lessons of a life : Harriet Martineau. A lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, St George's Hall, Langham Place, on Sunday afternoon, 11th March, 1877), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Harriet Martineau
NSS
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/0e7d73ea073d34327d67ef93413eb264.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=cDXEg6BnqcIhD5c3Ezj3PtrkySeBZK%7EzbzdD-uzF6nZHb7Kv8z7yu5yRnDd7QhYlGI0p0lVheDngI92iKaXhuVEV5P5S1QL14EdHxhXwAtYJj7aeo3ItBtBIKaEoL9i%7Eg%7EfHLG3g3mZ%7E-lJDqVfOtR4Kyv%7EAo-bdov7i7OEdWb2Yvg5upvn5OJxCbU58IVJ-TaOrN75Xn4zBfNX7zFFk%7EWp30Syi2TCO9a2kTDPF9r7iKeNkqC5T6XBs8SU2GPQwTDK3b0n6BFONcu3zmDSeUGH5twRewIcHmFmjCYpNhRYUhShnDBhiRukyDZlFp1rohUBEFrRSkAUEpHpGNIRPxQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
5a3864222eea7fe5b77e52dcced48e4c
PDF Text
Text
B 333#
N7M
THE
EASTERN QUESTION;
FROM A
RELIGIOUS AND SOCIAL POINT OF VIEW.
Q
lecture
DELIVERED
SUNDAY
BEFORE
THE
LECTURE
SOCIETY,
ST. GEORGE'S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
ON
SUNDAY AFTERNOON, 25th MARCH, 1877,
By Dr. G. G. ZERFFI, F.R.S.L., F.R.Hist.S.
lEonbon :
PUBLISHED BY THE SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
1877.
PRICE THREEPENCE.
�Origin of the Eastern Question.
Constantine the Great.
State of Society in the East.
Believers and Heretics.
The Hierarchy and the different Christian Sects.
Dissension amongst Christians.
The Schism between the Eastern and Western Churches.
Homousion and Ilomoiusion.
Idolatry in the West; Iconoclasm in the East.
The Arabs.
Mahomet.
The Koran and its Tenets.
Crusades and Scholasticism.
Influence of the East on the West.
Conquest of Constantinople by the Turks.
Social and Religious Organization of Turkey.
Home Rule and Foreign Affairs. Arts and Sciences.
Position of Women in Turkey.
Christians, Jews, Greeks, and Turks.
Russia. The Cross and the Crescent.
Possibility of a Solution of the Eastern Question.
Conclusion.
�THE EASTERN QUESTION;
FROM A
RELIGIOUS AND SOCIAL POINT OF VIEW.
HE Eastern Question has come upon us like a political and
intellectual thunderstorm. Thunderstorms in the
world,
Tlike those in the real, are produced by accumulationsidealacting and
of
counteracting electric or religious and social streams or currents.
The negative and positive electric currents rise up and concentrate,
some motion of air brings them into collision, and the storm with
its fierce lightnings and roaring thunder bursts out, often devasta
ting whole districts, but always purifying the air, and leaving
traces of a beneficial influence behind it. Eor more than a year
the thunderstorm of the “ Eastern Question ” has been raging
amongst us with the lightning of well-set, sensational phrases,
real or unreal atrocities, flashes of horrifying contradictory tele
graphic messages, reports of special, unspecial, “ our own,” and
“nobody else’s correspondents,” and the thunders of angry
pamphlets and platform speeches, delivered at boisterous indigna
tion meetings. East and West are one again, not in mutual love,
but in mutual hatred and animosity. There are people who would
like to see Cross and Crescent arrayed against one another in
deadly combat, and who would like to see the Turks leave Europe
at a moment’s notice with “ bag and baggage.”
What is this Eastern Question ? Has it been asked only
recently, or is it a historical problem, that has long stood before
the eves of Europe awaiting a solution ? How and when did this
Eastern Question arise ? Where and when did it originate ?
The Eastern Question began with Constantine the Great, when
he saw a burning cross hovering above the sun with the inscrip
tion “in hoc signo vinces ! ” (in this sign thou wilt conquer). The
same night, according to Bishop Eusebius, Christ appeared to
Constantine, and ordered him to have a banner made, bearing the
sign he had seen during the day, and assuring him that under this
banner (the labarum) he would conquer. It so happened that
Constantine disposed his troops with consummate skill, while his
�4
The Eastern Question; from a
adversary, Maxentius, occupied a very spacious plain, having the
Tiber in the rear of his army, which rendered retreat impossible.
The cavalry of Maxentius was composed of unwieldy cuirassiers,
or light Moors and Numidians, whilst Constantine had at his
disposal the vigour of splendid gallic horse “ which possessed
more activity than the one and more firmness than the other.”
The defeat of the hostile army was—in consequence of his better
tactics, and not in consequence of his dream and vision—complete.
Maxentius was driven into the Tiber, his head was cut oft’ and
publicly exposed, and Constantine became master of the Roman
Empire, after having put the two sons of Maxentius to death, and
extirpated his whole race. Constantine undoubtedly abolished the
Praetorian guards by the sword, deprived the Senate and people of
their dignities, exposed Rome to the insults or neglect of the
Emperors, and transferred the seat of the Roman Emperors to
Byzantium, which as Constantinople became from that time a new
Rome, and the centre point of the Eastern Question. Constantine
was an ambitious and genial character, as cunning as he was
generous, and as bigoted as he was cruel. He recognised in Chris
tianity a means for effectually destroying the old heathen world
(for monotheism stands so much nearer to “monodespotism ” than
polytheism), and exalting himself as omnipotent ruler on earth
and in heaven through the newr state religion.
The means he employed were not very Christian. He had his
own son, Crispus, executed on an unsupported charge brought
against him by his stepmother, Fausta; at the same time he
murdered his nephew, the son of Licinius ; and finally, convinced
of the groundlessness of the charge brought against his son, he
had his wife, Fausta, killed. Murder, superstition, visions,
dreams, apparitions, and sacred symbolic signs, mixed with
heathen ceremonies and a theocratic organization of the Church,
were the elements of which Constantine formed a new Christianity
in the East.
The Church suddenly raised to power soon arrogated to herself
infallibility, and assumed the terrible right of taliation, waging
sanguinary war against those who were not of her opinion.
Having the mighty arm of the lay power at her disposal, the
Church became by degrees omnipotent, and Christ’s simple teach
ing “ of a kingdom that is not of this world ” wTas used, to
found the most sanguinary Empire.
At the beginning of Christianity there were only loving com
munities that chose their own elders ; the communities increased,
�Religious and Social Point of View.
5
and overseers of the elders were found necessary; the overseers
again required patriarchs, and the patriarchs needed one above
them, the Bishop of Rome. This hierarchical crystallisation went
on gradually and slowly, became sterner and more powerful
through the increasing number of false prophets, mock-philosophers,
necromancers, Taumathurgi, miracle-workers, Egyptian priests of
Isis, Persian Magi, Jewish controversialists, and Greek casuists,
who all united to seek first, a living, and then a position, in order to
prosper through the credulity, superstition, and ignorance of the
masses. There was at that period a vast crowd of adventurers in
the East, who all traded in mystic doctrines, symbolic little
charms, incredible miracles, visions, dreams, and prophetic calcula
tions.
The Spiritualists abounded; they filled the market-places,
where they exhibited the most incredible feats before the eyes
of the gazing, wondering, and believing masses. In reading
history backwards, we may imagine what the effect of those
tricksters in supernatural wares must have been, when we find
in the nineteenth century, in spite of our advanced state of
civilization and learning, numbers of weak-minded men and
women, even of the better classes, who believe in any nonsense,
so soon as it is labelled “ supernatural.”
So long as the Church had no material support from the State,
Christianity spread through love and persuasion in spite of
competing miracle-workers, in spite of treachery, deceit and in
numerable incredibilities that hindered its progress amongst the
so-called educated classes. When Constantine took it up, and
lent it the imperial sword; when the tiaras and Mitres felt
themselves supported by the consuls, pro-consuls, magistrates,
lictors, and especially the executioners of the Roman Empire—
then the miracles ceased, and the supernatural became quite
natural. “ Woe” to any one who would have doubted that the
supernatural was not quite natural, and yet the dissensions
amongst the Christians, the heresies amongst the believers, and
the views the unbelievers took, were of an astonishing variety. But
the mighty State Church was equal to the terrible task which faith
imposed upon it. The massacres and executions of the unbelievers,
infidels, and heretics increased in a corresponding ratio with the
wealth and power, the sweet humility and self-abnegation of those
who styled themselves the followers of Christ. The unification of
the Christian Church, the purification of the different doctrines all
more or less tainted with abominable heresy, became the supreme
�6
The Eastern Question; from a
duty of the Church. It is a well-known and indisputable fact, that
after the death of Christ, his disciples dispersed, and formed nearly
as many sects as there were disciples.
There were the Gnostics, who most elaborately worked out the
theory of good and evil, of original sin and emanation, but they
could not see “ how the word became flesh,” and though they
believed Christ to be the Demiurgos, that is, an emanation of the
supreme Deity, they were extirpated as heretics in the sixth
century, a.d.
There were the Kerinthians, who could not see how any human
being could be born of a virgin ; they did not doubt that Joseph was
the father of Christ, but they could not believe in the resurrection
of Christ, and were extirpated in the sixth century, a.d.
The Ebionites objected to the genealogy of S. Matthew. Through
one of their leaders, Symmac, they propounded that Jesus was
never incarnate, that the Jews crucified one Simon the Kyerenian,
that Christ witnessed his own execution, ascended into heaven to
join his father, and was neither known by angels nor by men.
These theorists were extirpated in the sixth century, a d.
The Karpokratians believed in Christ as a superior human being,
endowed with a divine genius, but they disbelieved the resurrection
of the body, and they were extirpated in the sixth century, a.d.
The Cainists looked upon Judaism as full of immorality, and did
not believe that Christ could have come into the world to fulfil the
old law. They were also extirpated about the sixth century, a.d.
Marcion dared to teach that the gospels contradicted one another:
fortunately he founded no school, and when the authenticity of the
four gospels was settled by Church and State, there was no more
room for such wicked doubts.
The Alogians rejected the gospel of St. John, but were sacrificed
to that terrible error, and extirpated in the sixth century, a.d.
The Manicheans founded by Manes, who believed himself the
promised “Paraklitos” (St. John, xiv. 26), wished to bring harmony
into the comfortless teachings of the Gnostics and Zoroastrians, and
maintained a general return to God of all purified emanations.
Manes did not believe in the annihilation of matter, assuming it to
have been uncreated. This in itself was, of course, a most wicked
and erroneous assumption. Though Manes believed that Christ
and the Holy Ghost were sent into this world by God in order to
save humanity from the triumphant spirit of egotism, embodied in
Judaism and heathenism; though he himself and his followers led
a life of virtuous simplicity and ascetic self-denial, he was put to
�Religious and Social Point of View.
1
death 274 a.d., and his followers extirpated by fire and sword with
all possible love and kindness in the sixth century, a.d.
The Montanists, founded by Montanus, a Phrygian, who without
the permission of the Church believed himself, like Manes, to be the
promised “ Paraklitos,” professed Buddhistic tenets with the most
irreproachable vigour. “To renounce this world, was according to
Montanus, the duty of every free Christian, to live in God and to
rejoice in death his only aim.” lie proclaimed all knowledge and
earthly enjoyments as sinful. Until the sixth century, a.d., the
Montanists formed a special sect, but their tenets concerning the
duty of profound ignorance, and the sinfulness of all earthly en
joyments, found favour with the State Church, and they were kindly
received in the motherly bosom of Catholicism.
Arians, Novitians and Donatists fared no better than the others,
they were extirpated by fire and sword during the sixth century, a.d.
But the fathers and apologists, primitive writers and propounders
of Christianity, were not less numerous in their divergent opinions
with reference to tenets and dogmas, gospels and writings than
these sects. Simeon and Cleobius published works in the name of
Christ and bis Apostles. Eusebius published a letter from Christ
to King Abgarus, but Pope Gelasius declared this document a
forgery. A letter from the Virgin Mary to the inhabitants of
Messina is preserved in that town, dated Jerusalem, 42 a.d.
Though this was a clear forgery, a Jesuit, Inchofer, proved its
genuineness with great lucidity, and one must be obdurate indeed
not to be convinced by his proofs.
St. Justinus the martyr refers to certain documents relating to
Christ which must have been lost or voluntarily destroyed.
Tertullian mentions that Pontius Pilate sent the minutes of the
trial of Jesus of Nazareth or Bethlehem to the Emperor Tiberius,
who was so struck with the innocence of Christ that he ordered
the Senate to pay divine honours to the memory of Christ, which
the Roman Senate refused, not having been directly asked by those
concerned in the matter. It is scarcely necessary to mention that
this statement of things induced many pious forgers to write
reports in the name of Pilate. Gregory of Tours sternly believed
that he possessed the authenticated accounts of the miracles at the
death and the resurrection of Christ, just as Pilate sent them to
Tiberius. Scarcely had Christ expired on the cross with a prayer
for his enemies on his lips, when a host of forgers inundated the
world with descriptions and details of his private and public life.
S. Luke informs us “that many have taken in hand to set forth
�8
The Eastern Question; from a
those things which are most surely believed among us” (c. i. v. 1),
and notwithstanding that S. Mark and S. Matthew had written
their accounts, S. Ambrosius, Theophylaktes and other learned
commentators, assure us that this Evangelist only undertook to
write his gospel in order to counteract the great number of false
gospels, which S. Jerome finds too long to enumerate (ennumerare
longissimum esl). Origen, S. Ambrosius, S. Jerome and others,
mention a gospel of the twelve apostles: there were gospels of
S. Barnabas, S. Andrew, S. Bartholomew, S. Mathias, S. Peter
and S. James the younger; there were gospels of the Egyptians,
Hebrews, Nazarenes and a gospel of Truth. According to some,
there were some seventy and according to others about 146 in all.
With Constantine the Great, at last, some kind of harmony was
brought into the discordant spiritual life of the believing, but
disagreeing, Christians. This union was not fostered by persua
sion leading to conviction; but by the inexorable formula of old
Imperial Rome, that was suddenly enunciated in matters of faith.
The “ sic volo, sic jubeo ” of the episcopal majority at the council
of Nicea brought about union, but at the same time the most
sanguinary dissension between the Western and Eastern Churches.
They both agreed in the persecution of so-called heretics, who
could not at once detach themselves from the ancient holy books,
holy dogmas, and holy symbols which they had received on trust
from those who had stood so much nearer to the founder of
Christianity, and who could not follow the new theological casuists
into all their intricate windings of Egypto-Hebrew and Indo
Greek mysticism.
West and East, however, separated.
The small letter i was the real cause of that deadly separation.
“ Equal but not like,” and “like and equal,” this “ equal likeness ”
and “ equality but not likeness ” worked marvels of animosity,
hatred, and persecution amongst those who received the eternal
divine command, “ Love thy neighbour as thyself! ” The disputes
all bore upon the nature of Christ, not upon his glorious enact
ments of love and forgiveness, tolerance and peace, but upon the
mystic words, “Homousion,” meaning equality, sameness, or
oneness of essence or substance or being, and the equally mystic
word, “ Homoiusion,” meaning likeness of essence or substance or
being—as if anything could be like and not equal, or equal and
not like. With the East, Christ’s nature was like God the Father,
but not equal—not one and the same : and in the West, Christ’s
nature was not only like and equal, but the same as that of the
�Religious and Social Point of View.
9
Father. The East began to abhor this blasphemous assumption,
and to prove their subtle distinction with fire and sword. The
West, on the other hand, began to introduce more and more Pagan
ceremonies and festivities, the worship of saints, whose images
were painted and sculptured, in order to bring the originals
nearer to the senses of the believers, and to exhort them through
visible concrete forms to a more exalted spiritual life. No lover of
art will find fault with this tendency. Those painted walls and
painted windows, the sculptured saints and prophets served
Christianity as our modern illustrated alphabets or spelling books.
The child remembers so much easier that A stands for archer, if
it has at the same time the picture of a big-faced, fierce-looking
archer before it, who stands with crooked legs, letting fly an
immense arrow at an enormous black eagle with big claws, or at a
clumsy-looking frog ; or that B stands for butcher, killing a
ferocious, well-chained bull. Whilst the West laid down the
foundations of architectural, sculptural, and pictorial art, the East
demolished statues and quarrelled over abstruse formula. Turn
ing from statues to human beings, the Eastern Church extirpated
sectarians root and branch, murdered and poisoned and changed the
Christian religion into a perfect mockery, a system of most incredible
superstition and hypocrisy, and nameless crimes defiled the
once flourishing, glorious provinces of Asia Minor and the Greek
Peninsula. Temples and statues were hurled into ruin and dust.
In the West the old heathen gods and goddesses became Christian
saints : A enus was revived as the Virgin Mary: Minerva was
turned into St. Sophia: in Hermes,the good shepherd, and Apollo,
the sungod, they worshipped Christ; Bacchus became St. Paul:
J anus was turned into St. Peter; Hercules into St. Christopher:
Poseidon into St. Nicholas ; the “ Lares ” of the Romans were
advanced to household saints; St. Florian had to watch over fire,
like Vulcanus or Hepheistos ; the Titans were declared to have
been the fallen angels, and Cupid or Eros was revived as Asmodaeus, a mischief-making demon in matters of love. The forces
of nature that had been personified as lovely nymphs, tritons,
naiads, and nereids were degraded to uglv witches, imps, devils, or
infernal spectres. Whilst this idolatrous transformation scene
took place in the West, the East, with iconoclastic rage, disputed
on how the hand should be held when blessing, whether the
three fingers should be stretched out, or whether the thumb
should be joined to the third finger, and the first twro
fingers alone held up erect with the fourth, whether to have
�10
The Eastern Question ; from a
carved or only painted saints on a gold ground, and similarly
important questions.
In the meantime, trade, industry, commerce, arts and sciences
languished, and the new faith that ought to have stimulated the
vitality of humanity into new activity of love and kindness,
excited it to an utter dissolution of the religious and social
condition of the Byzantine Empire. Add to all this the variety
of nationalities, the scattered remnants of house and homeless
Jews, Greek sophists, Egyptian mystics, Roman plunderers,
Persian necromencers, fantastic gipsy cabbalists, and you will have
some idea of the Eastern Question that is to be solved once more
after 1552 years of continuous confusion.
Free from all such dissensions at this period were the direct
descendants of Abraham or Joktan, the son of Heber, or of
Ishmael, the Semitic race of the Arabs, who lived under Sheiks or
Emirs. They were divided into three principal groups : (1) the
Arabs or Aribahs, the direct descendants of Iram or Aram, the
son of Shein; (2) the Mouta-Aribahs, or the settled descendants
of Joktan or Jokatan, according to Erevtag from “Katana,” to
take up a fixed abode, the son of Heber, son of Salah, son of
Arphaxad, son of Shein: and (3) the Mousta-Aribahs, the
descendants of Ishmael (he who was born in the desert). They
had their sanguinary feuds, not referring to theological niceties
but to their tribal genealogical tables—each of the Sheiks or
Emirs priding himself on a purer and more direct descent from
Abraham. They were valorous, loved their independence above
all, and combined the perfect freedom of a nomadic and pastoral
life with the courteous refinement of daring traders. They
possessed settlements, but they hated the corruption of large towns;
they were proud of their one god, one sanctuary, the Caaba, one
horse, one sword, one bow, and as many arrows as they could
carry. They were chivalrous, wild in their love as in their hatred
and sanguinary revenge, but they were like the northern Teutons
of Europe, honest and tolerant of those who had not the honour
of being direct descendants of Abraham, or Joktan or Ishmael.
There were all the elements of a great historical future in these
wandering tribes if they could but be inspired with one common
thought, for one common cause; if they could but be made
conscious of their irresistible power, if once united to destroy
quarrelling and dogmatising Christianity in the East, to spread
one creed all over the world, to instal one God as the Supreme
Lord of the Universe. The moving power to accomplish this
�Religious and Social Point of View.
11
appeared in Mahomet at the right moment. Every right-minded
man must blush when he refers to our so-called learned Encyclo
pedias and finds if he looks for the article Mahomet, the assertion
made with surprising unanimity that Mahomet was “ one of the
greatest impostors.” This false notion, this contemptible ignoring
of the grandeur and intellectual and moral power of individuals,
so soon as they are not of our opinion, produces those entangled
questions between East and West, nations and nations that have
cost humanity torrents of blood. Ideas, which we would resent
with indignation if taught of us, are taught in schools for thousands
of years to millions and millions of human beings, and then we
are astonished if after having sown contempt and wild hatred we
find we cannot reap forbearance and love. If Christians cannot
afford to be charitable, when is charity to come into the world ?
Mahomet when he appeared on the stage of the world found
human society in a state of dissolution analogous to that which had
existed at the advent of Christ. The Arabs were addicted to a
rude kind of idolatry; they had but one unseemly sanctuary, the
Caaba, a simple square building, by the side of the well in which
Hagar found water for her pining Ishmael. The building contained
a black stone, the grand national talisman, a meteor which the
Arabs believed had been dropped from heaven by their supreme
deity Allah or Allah-Taala (the male or active principle of creation),
in honour of Alilath (the female or passive principle of creation);
the Greek Bacchus and Venus. This black stone was placed in the
south-western corner of the Caaba, at Mecca, and was consecrated
to Sabba, or Abbah (the Abads of the Zend-people in the centre of
Asia, and the Asen of the Teutons in the farthest north of Europe),
and entrusted to the care of the Koreish tribe, more particularly
to the Hashem family of which Mahomet was a descendant.
Abul Kasem Muhammed (the glorious) was born 571 in the sixth
century, a.d.—and died 632 (61 years old). His father was
Abdallah (the beautiful) who married Amina, and on this occasion
two hundred ladies are said to have expired of jealousy and despair.
His grandfather was Abdul Motalleb, who saved Mecca from the
Abyssinians, and triumphantly carried away the talisman, the black
stone, and had it replaced in the sanctuary. His great-grand
father was Hashem, who succeeded in averting a famine by sacrific
ing all his worldly goods to the suffering. What wonder that a
boy, with such a pedigree, should have become a religious dreamer
and a fanatic, in times, when he heard nothing but theological
discussions. The Persian legends assert that at the birth of
�12
The Eastern Question; from a
Mahomet the eternal fires on the altars of the Magi were ex
tinguished. It was further said that on the night of his birth all
heathen and Christian idols sighed and shrieked, and that a wise
Jew proclaimed from a watch-tower that the star of Messiah had
just risen, and that the Saviour of the world had been born. It
was said, that the first spiritual ray proceeding from Allah was
Mahomet’s soul, of which God proclaimed: “In thee dwells my
light, for thy sake let the earth expand itself, and I create paradise
and hell. The divine first ray had burned in Adam and Seth, in
Abraham and Moses, the prophets and Christ, but became flesh in
Mahomet.” When such ideas with reference to any mortal teacher
are spread, taught, and continually repeated from father to son, he
must in time become a mighty spiritual agent, and sway the minds
of millions and millions of people.
Divested of all “supernatural” cant, Mahomet must have been a
great and powerfid mind. He was undoubtedly a wise man in his
generation. When twenty-five years old he married an elderly but
rich widow Cadijah, and at the age of forty-one he first confessed
that he had received a divine revelation, which commanded him to put
an end to the idolatrous state of humanity and to teach in the true
Semitic sense the absolute indivisible unity of the one indivisible
Deity. Mahomet was illiterate and uneducated in theological
casuistry, but he read and studied the book of human nature. He
travelled as a keenly observant merchant, came into contact with
men of all nations and denominations, drew comparisons and
analogies between the creeds of all nations, and discovered with a
clear perception of combinations the weakness of the fallen Persian
and Roman Empires. He saw with a terrified and troubled heart
the degeneracy, profligacy, licentiousness of his times, and the
division, animosity and hatred amongst the Christian, Jewish,
Greek, and Egyptian absolute and dissolute theologians; he con
versed with Jewish rabbis, Persian parsees, Syrian monks, and
Christian sectarians who found refuge and protection amongst the
wild sons of the desert; he made himself acquainted with the laws
of Moses, the abstruse doctrines of Zoroaster, and the pure vivifying
teachings of Christ. Each year during the month of Ramadan
he withdrew from the world in the cave of Hera, three miles
from Mecca, and there he dreamt dreams, had lively visions,
spiritualistic communications from God, and visits from the angel
Namaus (Gabriel), who thundered into his ears these grand words:
“Devote thyself to the service of Allah (the one God), the Lord of
the East and West, of Winter and Summer; for there is no other
�Religious and Social Point of View.
13
God but He!” During fully three years he succeeded in converting
no more than seven or fourteen persons. The majority of his
family and the leaders of the Koreish tribe were violently opposed
to the reformer, seventy of the latter swore to plunge their swords
into his irreligious heart. Mahomet’s house was surrounded by
these wild fanatics, but he escaped (622 a.d. 16tb of July)- Ten
years later, Syria, the territories on the Euphrates and the Greek
Empire were invaded and Mecca taken by the victorious followers
of Mahomet, and the surrounding country as far as the Arabian
Gulf was conquered and placed under the dominion of this mighty
Puritan monotheistic ruler and his sword. Up to the period of his
flight Mahomet had wished to teach by persuasion: he was kind and
tolerant, but through violent resistance and unexpected victory his
wild Asiatic nature and his Semitic egotistic character gained the
upper hand. He then declared war—sanguinary war against all
those who did not share his religious opinions, and sacrificed them
to the wrath of his Allah. The Koran was to be the only holv
book of the world, written by the pen of light on God’s tablet,
containing the eternal decrees of God himself.
Mahomet’s faith stood to the other religions of the East exactly
in the same relation as Puritanism to the Established Church in
England; his soldiers were the mighty valiant covenanters of the
East, who rushed with their Koran as these with their Bibles into
battle and conquered. “To believe in the one God, to fast, to drink
no wine (which neither our covenanters have observed, and least of all
their descendants do observe), to remove the sense of speciality and
consequent separation from the infinite, arising from bodily limita
tion, and to give alms, that is, to get rid of particular private
possession,” were Mahomet’s principal injunctions; but the highest
merit in a believer on earth was his dving for the orthodox faith of
the prophet. “He who perished for this faith in battle after having
killed at least one infidel, was sure of Paradise.” Eor twelve
centuries Mahomet’s ideas have ruled the daily life, the hopes in a
future world, the prayers, morals and destinies of nearly one-fifth
of the human race. Since he first proclaimed his revelation to the
world, 3765 generations have passed away, amounting to about
thirty-six thousand millions of human beings (at a low rate), who
all acknowledge him as a special messenger from God. His
followers kindled in the West an analogous fanatic religious ex
citement, first in Charlemagne, who was a Christian Mahomet,
wielding the cross instead of the crescent, obeying a pope, instead
of Allah and his prophet; next in the mighty crusaders. Through
�14
The Eastern Question; from a
the Mahometans poetry, arts and sciences, chivalry and philosophy
were revived in the West. Scholasticism with all its brilliant
negative successes, its division into realists and nominalists, its
fierce battles on inherited sin and grace, regeneration, predestina
tion, and the eucharist—and its final positive results, showing at
last the utter uselessness of the dry, barren, dialectical efforts
leading to mere verbiage —or to speak with Hamlet to “words—
words—words!” — had its root in Mahometanism. Whilst our
ecclesiastical wise men contended that it is sinful to use blood, or
to eat things strangled, to partake of lard, to wear rings on the
fingers, that the priests ought to have beards, and that at baptism
men ought not to be contented with one single immersion, the
Arabs in the East still retained a high degree of zeal for the culture
of the sciences. They studied astronomy, arithmetic, algebra,
geometry, anatomy, chemistry, botany, and above all geography
and philosophy, especially in the more practical sense of Aristotle
through the immortal Averroes. Architecture and decorative
art received new impulses—for as long as Persians and Arabs
were the apostles of Mahometanism it had vitality. Thirtysix thousand fortified camps and places in Persia, Asia Minor,
Africa, and Europe were stormed and taken. More than twenty
thousand four hundred mosques, pointing with their slim minarets
to heaven, were constructed from the borders of the Ebro in Spain
to the shores of the Granges, from the Oxus and Euphrates to the
Atlantic Ocean, proclaiming the glory of Allah. All this was
accomplished a few decades after Mahomet's flight to Medina.
Without the quarrelling Christians there could have been no
Mahometans. The appearance and success of Mahomet prove the
eternal law of action and reaction in the intellectual as well as in
the physical world. The disturbed balance between morals and
intellect, between professions and actions, between mind and matter,
was to be adjusted in the East, and Mahomet with his faith worked
at this task. Religion was freed from all metaphysical subtleties.
The simplicity of faith was concentrated in one single indisputable
sentence : “There is but one Grod”—or “one first incomprehensible
cause.” Allah was to be the Grod of all, whether poor or rich, wise
or ignorant, who believed in Him, and his worship was to be purely
intellectual. No ceremonies, no symbols, no mystic representations,
no images of animals or men were tolerated. When Omar came
from Medina on a camel, carrying only two bags, one with rice,
the other with dates, a wooden dish and a leathern water-bottle,
constituting the whole of his furniture, and took possession of
�Religious and Social Point of View.
15
Jerusalem, the sacred town of Judaism and Christianity, he proved
the power of the fanatic faith on which Mahometanism was based.
In opposition to the Christian Church, pomp and vanity were to
give way to stern and shapeless faith. Theological discussions had
to yield to a deeper study of nature and science. The ink of the
doctors, not discussing incomprehensible mysteries, but the powers
of nature or the abstractions of geometry and mathematics, was
considered “equally valuable with the blood of martyrs.” Under
the gentle sway of the Caliphs, paradise was as much for him who
had rightly used his pen, not in questions of faith, (for these were
all settled in the Koran), but in subjects of medicine or alchemy,
as for him who had fallen by the sword. The world was declared
to be sustained by/our things: the learning of the wise, the justice
of the great, the prayers of the good, and the valour of the brave.
Instead of erecting dim-looking churches and splendidly decorated
public-houses in close vicinity, they built the school near the
mosque, and often the mosques were merely schools. Every thing
changed, when by degrees the wild Mongol hordes came down
from the highlands of Northern Asia, took possession of the
kingdom of the Caliphs, superseded the gentler rule of the Persians
and Arabs, and developed all the hidden faults and incongruities of
the Koran. The Eastern question became from that moment not
a religious, but a racial or tribal and social question. About 1100
a.d. the Mahometans were divided into several states, namely, the
Persian, Syrian, Median, Khorasan and the territory beyond the
Oxus river. The Tartars rose to power in the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries, and these hordes, under their leader Osman, meaning the
“ bone-breaker,” strengthened by robbers, fugitive Christian slaves,
founded a mighty Ottoman Empire on the ruins of the Seldshooks,
Arabs and Persians, aided by the dissensions of the degenerated
subjects of the Byzantine Emperors. This Empire expanded under
his successors, especially Mahomet I., who advanced as far as
Salzburg and Bavaria, whilst the pious fathers of Western Europe
tried to give spiritual peace to the Church by burning Huss at
Constance and deposing three popes. His son Murad II. though
opposed by the heroic Skanderbeg, and the still more heroic
Johannes Hunnyady, augmented the Empire till Mahomet II. took
Constantinople on the 29th of May, 1453, with the help of Christian
soldiers, who felt themselves more comfortable under the sway of
the Turks and Tartars than under their more implacable theological
masters. We may sneer at the Turks, who struck terror into all
Europe by their conquests, but it is a fact, that for three centuries
�16
The Eastern Question; from a
and a half, under twelve heroic sultans, they were invincible: they
subdued Egypt, the Barbary States, and all the Arabian Coasts on
the Bed Sea. “ In Europe they conquered the Crimea, and the
countries along the Danube; they overran Hungary and Tran
sylvania, and repeatedly laid siege to A ienna. At sea, notwith
standing the gallant resistance of the Venetians, they subdued
Rhodes, Kyprus, and all the Greek islands,” says the immortal
Cobden in his pamphlet on Russia, written exactly a quarter of a
century ago, in which he gave us sound advice with reference to
Turkey. He was, however, a preacher in the desert. Cobden
referred to the social and religious organization of the Turks, which
dates from 1538, when Soliman united in the Sultan the dignities
of the A ice-regent of the Prophet and the lay-ruler. The Koran
became from that time the only guide in social and political
matters: all other fields of learning and art were cordially despised.
The Turks are religiously ignorant of all that forms the education
of an Italian, Englishman, Frenchman or German. A Turk, or
rather Ottoman, knows nothing of the countries beyond the bounds
of the Sultan's dominions. “Notwithstanding that this people
have been for nearly four centuries in absolute possession of all the
noblest remains of ancient art, they have evinced no taste for
architecture or sculpture, whilst painting and music are equally
unknown to them.” But why? Because they have to bow down
to the most bigoted and intolerant branch of the Mahometan faith.
They have become what we should have become if the intolerant
bigots had borne all before them. Our own bigots whitewashed
our sacred buildings, smashed in our painted windows, abominated
sculptured men and women, whether saints or heathen gods and
goddesses. They tried to stop all progress, cursed astronomy,
zoology and geology as contrary to the word of God, despised
learning as creating sceptics and infidels; and some of their leaders,
who pretend to learning, even now force chronology in the narrow
time-boundaries of Rabbi Hillel’s and Bishop Usher’s dates. They
composed garbled inscriptions in our own British Museum, which
they keep closed ou Sundays, fearing lest the masses should find
greater spiritual delight in draughts of knowledge than in alcoholic
spirits. They are afraid that comparative mythology might dawn
upon the people; that Egyptian monuments and relics might teach
them that their important symbols, about which they quarrel with
the same bitterness as the Turkish theologians on the knotty point,
“whether the feet should be washed at rising, or only rubbed with
the dry hand,” are only purloined from old heathens; that their
�Religious and Social Point of View.
17
eastern and western postures are as irrevalent to piety, as the
Turk’s turning towards Mecca (the birth-place of the prophet), in
saying his prayers.
■ From the moment when the Turks placed their home-rule and
foreign affairs under the stable, immovable dictates of the Koran
progress became impossible. For the. nomadic character of the
shepherd predominates in them. “ The Divine Glory,” is said, in
a speech of Mohamet’s, “ is among the shepherds; vanity and
impudence among the agriculturists.” The accredited collections
of traditions tell the following of Abu Umama al-Bahili : “ Once
on seeing a ploughshare and another agricultural implement, he
said, 1 heard the prophet sav : “ These implements do not
enter into the house of a nation, unless that Allah causes lowmindedness to enter in there at the same time.”—(Abuchan
Recueil). Of Chalif Omar the Turks believe, that when dying he
recommended in his political testament the Bedawi (nomads) to
his successors, “ ff»r they are the root of the Arabs and the germ of
Islam,” and “ how little this Arabian politician could appreciate
the importance of agriculture,” says Dr. Goldziher in his work,
“Mythology among the Hebrews” (London: Longmans, Green,
and Co., 1877), “ is evident from the edict in which he most
strictly forbade the Arabs to acquire landed possession and
practise agriculture in the conquered districts. The only mode of
life equally privileged with the roving nomad life, was held to be the
equally roving military profession, or life of nomads without herds
and with arms.” These few lines permit us a deep insight into
the state of Turkey. The Turks keep too faithfully to their
sacred book and the traditions of the military founders of their
faith.
We advance because we possess the great talent of bringing
our sacred laws into harmony with the exigencies of our times and
social condition. It is enacted that “ the hare because he cheweth
the cud (which the hare, however, does not do), but divideth not
the hoof (which the hare most extraordinarily does), he is unclean
unto von ; ” but we eat it. It is enacted that “ the swine, though
he divided the hoof and be clovenfooted, yet he cheweth not the
cud, he is unclean to you ; ” yet we eat bacon for breakfast, and
pork in many ways. It is enacted “ that if anyone asks your
coat, we ought to give him our cloak: ” but if anyone writes to
us a mere begging letter, we give him in charge as au impostor,
and leave him to the tender mercies of the police, or of a Rev.
County magistrate, who sends a little girl of nine years of age to
�18
The Eastern Question ; from a
jail, because she picks up a few potatoes or a half-rotten cabbage
in some rich farmer's field. It is enacted “ that if anyone smites
your right cheek, you should turn to him your left; ” but if any
good believer were to smite anybody’s right cheek, he would soon
find out in a police-cell that we refuse to hold out our left cheek,
but have, in the interest of society, the man locked up who would
dare to live up to the literal sense of our holv book. Unhappily
with the Turks all this is not the case. They still believe with
blind faith in fatalism, or as we call it, in predestination. “ What
must happen will happen ! ” For Allah's will must be done.
1 have often had the pleasure of visiting mighty Pashas in the
East, they lived in castles and fortressess at Belgrad, Widdin,
Rustshuk, Varna, and Constantinople; half the windows were
broken, sometimes mended with paper, sometimes left broken—
“ Allah will mend them
but Allah does not do so. The Pasha,
however, who lived in a castle with broken windows, dilapidated
staircases, broken doors, without any furniture, smoked a “tshibuk”
that had an amber mouthpiece set with diamonds worth from two
to three thousand pounds ; the coffee was brought in on a tray of
pure gold, and served in “ filtchans ” of gold studded with precious
stones. Everything here still betrays the nomadic character—they
hoard moveable goods, but have no concern with agriculture or a
settled state of life. Their administration is as bad as was that in
France before the grand and sanguinary revolution. The judges
administer justice according to the dictates of the Koran. The
tax-gatherers are farmers of the public revenue. “ The situations
of Pasha, cadi, or judge are all given to the highest bidders,” and
all offices are publicly sold. Under such an administration pro
gress must be very slow or altogether impossible. A fierce
unmitigated military despotism, swayed bv a gloomy, religious
fanaticism, that teaches its followers to rely solely on Allah and
the sword crushes all vitality in the state-body, checks arts, and
makes science subservient to the requirements of the army or
navy, hinders the growth of cities, the increase of knowledge, and
the accumulation of wealth. The first step with the Ottomans in
the direction of reform must be to separate politics and religion,
and obtain an honest and conscientious administration for Greeks,
Turks, Jews, Christians, Roman Catholics, Nestorians, Unitarians,
Armenians, and Bashi-Bozouks. Above all they must emancipate
their women !
The Turks, like all oriental nations, especially those of the Semitic
branch of humanity, degrade the position of women. We ourselves
�Religious and Social Point of View.
19
are struggling against the religious remnants of Asiatic customs,
tempered to a certain degree by our Teutonic forefathers, and the
teachings of Christianity. We still look upon women as inferior
creatures, teach them less than men, and leave them more at the
mercy of the spiritual advisers, who often use the powerful female
element to create serious mischief in families and even States.
Neither Russian police officers, nor Kosacks, nor a mixed com
mittee of European statesmen, none of whom will agree with the
other, each of whom will strive to promote some secondary object
in the East, will be of any service in the regeneration of Turkey—
but the advantage to be gained by replacing woman into her legiti
mate social and family position would be incalculable.
Neither Cross nor Crescent can bring about freedom and a
salutary reform in the East till woman is reinstated in her rights
in Eastern society, freed from the stupifying and brutalising
influences of the Harem. Women are the teachers of our next
generations during the most sacred time of our lives, the dawn of
our consciousness, when all impressions are most vivid and leave
imperishable traces. And what are the women in the East ? They
must be elevated to be the companions of the Turk’s social life in
which woman ought to shine as the static, passive element of
humanity, softening man's passions, guiding his taste, and elevating
his more boisterous nature. Woman in the East has no share in
the administration of the Empire, except the brutal influence under
sensual impulses. The disturbed relations between men and
women in Turkey practically transform morality into immorality,
checking in men the use of their brain-power, and making them
peevish women. Men and women, thus deprived of freedom of
action, can neither establish the rule of intellect nor the sway of
genuine morals. There are, however, many good qualities in the
Turks. Air. W. R. S. Ralston has pointed them out in a masterly
article on “ Turkish Story-books ” in the first number of “ The
Nineteenth Century Review.” “ All who know the Turkish common
people intimately speak well of them. Sober, honest, and
industrious, the Turk, so long as he is poor and lowly, is a
respectable member of society.” We must not forget that the
Turks keep guard with guns and swords at the grave of Christ at
Jerusalem, and prevent the dissenting Greeks and Roman
Catholics, Armenians, and Nestorians from discussing their theo
logical differences with blows at that sacred place. There is
undoubtedly more cohesion amongst the Turks than amongst the
motley crowd of Greeks, Jews, Catholics, and Protestants, who all
�20
The Eastern Question; from a
hate one another, persecute one another, and prefer to bend under
the government of their common foe, the Turk, than to allow any
of the other tribes or denominations to rule over them. The
Jews, Armenians, Greeks, and Roman Catholics are all free under
the Turks, but all of them persecute one another. The Jew must
not possess in Servia, the Greek is hunted down in Bosnia, the
united Armenian will have nothing to do with a Greek not
united believer, and to this religious animosity must be added
the national idiosinerasies. The Slavons hate the Greeks, the
Bosnians detest the Bulgarians, the Greeks return the feeling
with interest to the Slavons. The Turks have not hitherto been
able to bring union and cohesion into these antagonistic elements.
How then might this difficult question be solved ? So long as Sir
Stratford Canning (now Lord Stratford de Redcliffe) ruled
supreme in Constantinople, Turkey prospered and advanced steadily;
for to assert that nothing has improved in Turkey during the last fifty
years is a deliberate untruth, or the outburst of utter ignorance ; but
since Lord Stratford de Redclifle left, the Turks have relapsed into
their “koranic” apathy of fatalism. We ought to send out English
administrators to teach the Turks how to rule and become masters
of the eternal intrigues of Slavon agitators, conspirators, emissaries,
spies, diplomatic agents, missionaries, theologians, and special
correspondents, who go out from here, without any historical or
social knowledge of the country, and who on arrival become
“ atrocity-mongers ”—reporting one-sidedly, according to the cue
thev receive—endeavouring to excite a Russian crusade in the
name of down-trodden Christianity. Are we perhaps to revive
the old rule of the Greek Christian Emperors in the East—are we
to have a repetition of the misdeeds that disgraced humanity, and
produced the Mahometan reaction ? Do we aspire to see another
Basilios murder Michael and usurp his throne ; is a second Con
stantine to rule by the grace of his mother, and priests and
monks ? Is another Theophana to poison her husbands ; a second
Tzimiskes to become Emperor, after he had murdered Nikepheros
in his bed room, to be slowly poisoned in his turn to make room
for another murderer? Do we want to see another Basilios II.
(976—1015) blind 15,000 Bulgarians, sending them back to
their country, because they dared to attack him? The Turks had
in the Christian rulers, that swayed the destinies of the East
before them, not exactly the most forgiving teachers in the practice
of forbearance and tolerance. Are these times to be revived ?
Can we hope anything for Turkey from mere diplomatic agents,
�Religious and Social Point of View.
21
settling the destinies of 30,000,000 of human beings with pen and
ink ? If we are not prepared to support our protocols with
Armstrongs and Woolwich infants, with “blood and iron,” as
Bismarck would say, it would be better for us to pour oil on the
troubled waters, instead of fanning the flames of rebellion in the
East bv frightening the Turks, rousing their fanaticism, or by
encouraging the Slavons to disobedience, and then leaving them to
the tender mercies of their terrified task-masters, abusing them in
their turn, when they dared to imitate our ways to put down a
rebellion. The Austrian Government, after it restored peace in
Hungary with 80,000 Russians, had more than 1000 of the
noblest Hungarian patriots hanged and shot: Louis Napoleon III.,
after having dragonaded the Bourgeoisie of Paris, shooting down
some 4000 human beings, bombarding the Boulevards des Italiens,
had from 20—30,000 Trench citizens, who dared to adhere to the
legitimate Republican Government, transported to Cayenne. Men
and women were seized in the dead of the night and hurled away to
perish in misery and want. Are the riders of Turkey to govern
according to these noble examples? We must teach the Turks to
rely upon themselves. Exhausted, down-trodden, over-regulated,
the Hungarians gloriously attained their rights and privileges,
their freedom and happiness, not through foreign intervention or
protocols, newspaper articles, and one-sided speeches, to make
political capital out of the sufferings, agonies and despair of
Christians and Turks—but by relying on themselves.
Russia can, and will never solve the Eastern question. Of
her Government Herzen says in his work, “ Russia, and her
Social Condition : ” “ Terrible, nay fearful is the lot prepared for
him who dares in Russia to lift his head above the yoke imposed
upon us by the imperial Sceptre. The history of Russian litera
ture is a list of martyrs, or a register of criminals.” Rylejeff was
hanged. Pushkin was shot, when scarcely twenty-eight years old.
Gribojedoff was murdered at Taheran. Lermontoff was killed in
the Caucasus. Wenewitinoff perished, when thirtv-two years old,
through the influences of a dissolute society. Kolzoff was per
secuted to death by a bigoted relative, and died of grief at the age
of thirty-three. Belinsky, when thirty-five, starved to death in
misery. Polejaeff died in exile. Bestusheff died when quite young
in the Caucasus as a private soldier, after having served a period of
hard labour in Siberia. These are the Russian Byrons, Words
worths, Swinburnes, Buchanans, Macaulays. Maurices, and Carlyles,
who are treated in this merciless style. From Russia we have to
�22
The Eastern Question; from a
hope nothing for the regeneration of the East, neither from an
intellectual nor commercial point of view. Freedom and tolerance
are even less practised in Russia than in Turkey.
We may hope everything from an internal movement of the
united populations of Turkey. Let them become conscious of the
beauty, fertility and resources of their soil, which extends from 34
to 48 degrees north within the temperate zone, upon the same
parallels as France, Spain, and all the best portion of the United
States. Let them revive industry and agriculture, for “ Turkey in
many parts is more fruitful than the richest plains in Sicily.
When grazed by the rudest plough, it yields a more abundant
harvest than the finest fields between the Eure and the Loire, the
granary of France. Mines of silver and copper and iron still exist
(and could be worked to the benefit of the country), and salt
abounds. Tobacco, cotton and silk might be made the staple
exports of this region, and their culture admits of almost unlimited
extension throughout the Turkish territory: whilst some of the
native wines are equal to those of Burgundy. The heights of the
Danube are clad with apple, plum, cherry, and apricot trees—whole
forests cover the hills of Thrace, Macedonia and Epirus. The olive,
orange, mastic, fig and pomegranate, the laurel, myrtle, and nearly
all the beautiful and aromatic shrubs and plants are natural to the
soil. Nor are the animal productions less valuable than those of
vegetable life. The finest horses have been drawn from this
quarter to improve the breeds of Western Europe; and the rich
pastures of European Turkey are, probably, the best adapted in the
world for rearing the largest growth of cattle and sheep.”
Let the Turks above all discard all religious prejudices and
national animosities, and unite in one brotherhood to free their
country for the benefit of every citizen of whatever nationality or
religion. Freedom will be a stronger bond of union than Russian
battalions. But freedom never comes from heaven downwards, it
must take root in the lowest layers of a people here on earth and
grow upwards, and when grown it will apparently shower down its
blessings from above.
Neither Sultan nor Czar will free men, they must do it for
themselves. Greeks, Serbs, Bulgarians, Bosnians, Armenians and
Turks must hope everything from themselves: they must not
refuse to go to their so-called mock-parliament, they must go and
make their brethren hear the public voice of wants and complaints,
of right and justice. They must take their constitution as we took
ours, cherish and fondle it, nurse it during its childhood, educate
�Religious and Social Point of View.
23
it into boyhood and rear it in time into manhood. They must
learn to do as we did, and not think that neglected nations can
grow over-night into patterns of freely constituted societies. They
must, however, do all their reforms amongst themselves, on their
own soil unaided, uninspired by foreign secret societies.
“Man’s fate lies in his own hand,” is an old apophthegm, and it
stands for nations as well; for nations are but multiplications of
individuals. The destinies of nations have generally been most
retarded or altogether ruined by foreign meddling.
Our duty in England is to watch over Turkey with a heart full of
love for freedom and justice. We have only the sacred interests of
humanity to guard, we have nothing in common with the clandestine
Bulgarian conspirators nor their mysterious instigators, or the
Servian rebels, nor with the wild and wrathful Bashi-Bozouks: we
must try to bring them all to their senses and relative duties.
Why does diplomacy not venture to interfere with our Home
rulers or our Fenians or our prosecutions of spiritualists or
refractory ritualistic priests? Simply because we have learned to
manage our own business. Why did no one attempt to interfere
with the North American presidential elections and ask for an
international committee for the protection of Republicans and
Democrats ? Because the American people know how to manage
their own business. We should teach the Turks that Bible and
Koran, missal and hymn book might go together; that Patriarchs
and Sheik-Ul-Islams, Imams and Papas, preachers and Khatibs,
rabbis and priests, Great-Logethets and Khakham-Bashis can be
made to agree, if they live under an enlightened lay-government
that knows how to enforce respect for the laws, and grants perfect
freedom to the individual to develop as an independent member of
a well regulated society. A new life would arise on the golden
horn—Constantinople would become the most splendid city in
Europe, the most attractive resort for civilized Europeans, a kind
of 1 ans of the East. F reedom and equality of religion would
bring the three monotheistic religions into fraternal union and
glorious harmony—the demoralizing position of women would be
changed—Greek, Slavon and Arab, poets and learned men would
vie with one another on the fields of glowing imagination and cool
reflecting reason. Instead of a burning Eastern question we
should then have a solution worthy of the spirit of our age, and
should give a new life to Turkey in the North of Asia, as we have
given to India in the South.
�SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
To provide for the delivery on Sundays in the Metropolis, and to encourage
the delivery elsewhere, of Lectures on Science,—physical, intellectual,
and moral,—History, Literature, and Art; especially in their bearing
upon the improvement and social well-being of mankind.
THE SOCIETY’S
LECTURES
ARE DELIVERED AT
ST. GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
On SUNDAY Afternoons, at FOUR o'clock precisely
(Annually—from November to May).
Twenty-Four Lectures (in three series), ending 29tli April, 1877, will
be given.
Members’ .£1 subscription entitles them to an annual ticket transfer
able (and admitting to the reserved seats), and to eight single reservedseat tickets available for any lecture.
Tickets for each series (one for each lecture) as below,—
To the Shilling Reserved Seats—5s. 6d.
To the Sixpenny Seats—2s., being at the rate of Threepence each
lecture.
For tickets, also for printed lectures, apply (by letter) to the lion.
Treasurer, Wm. Henry Domville, Esq., 15, Gloucester Crescent, Hyde
Park, W.
Payment at the doorOne Penny;—Sixpence;—and (Reserved Seats)
One Shilling.
The Society’s Lectures by the same Author, which have
been printed, are—on
“ Natural Phenomena and their Influence on different Religious Systems.”
“ The Vedas and the Zend-Avesta : the First Dawn of Religious Conscious
ness in Humanity.”
The above are out of print.
“ The Origin and the Abstract and Concrete Nature of the Devil.”
“ Dreams and Ghosts.”
” Ethics and ^Esthetics.”
“ The Spontaneous Dissolution of Ancient Creeds.”
“ Dogma and Science.”
All price 3d., or post-free, 3bd.
By the same Author are the following Works:—
“ Faust,” by Goethe, with Critical and Explanatory Notes. Second Edition.
London: David Nutt, 270, Strand. 18(52.
“ Spiritualism and Animal Magnetism.” Third Edition. London: Hardwicke & Bogue, 192, Piccadilly. 1870.
“ A Manual of the Historical Development of Art: Pre-historic, Ancient,
Classic, and Early Christian.” London: Hardwick & Bogue, 192,
Piccadilly. 1876.
Kenny & Co., Printbbs, 25, Camden Road, London, N.W.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The Eastern question from a religious and social point of view : a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, St George's Hall, Langham Place, on 25th March, 1877
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Zerffi, G. G. (Gustavus George)
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 23 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Publisher's advertisements on back page. In diplomatic history, the "Eastern Question" refers to the strategic competition and political considerations of the European Great Powers in light of the political and economic instability in the Ottoman Empire from the late 18th to early 20th centuries. [Source: Wikipedia, 3/2018].
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Sunday Lecture Society
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
N701
Subject
The topic of the resource
Ottoman Empire
Religion
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The Eastern question from a religious and social point of view : a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, St George's Hall, Langham Place, on 25th March, 1877), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Eastern Question
NSS
Ottoman Empire
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/ec055bf377bca67e4bd3d46dd8d7f3fc.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=BdXYVmp%7E7-ZLy5SwH8HOmSfGQ4eNLIHxIv%7E1AuZQATdC4ghBMdI0vN2UqMVcv2nfN759wHA4VjtbmjuVMWQQh6PMKLNGlRdzUIxLAGV0-qTQuQu8EfpYq-SGwMTtGCndr3sHvF3fkwxTST8yaUVO0qOg1tDfPlwXFZMlIYC2I9Mvplp8uGP%7ER0DsTBc5PowJNQDUQZKV3IbktkdRO40Pb-9QQNsw4F%7EoJlZ9lxj1Ei5QZutAu%7EjqkgLlEsU4CG8UP7VD60ZsSCtyMy9KVTyXoiY-LPQ9qd%7EEokYRmy6Y4sFJWrKVk37x2phX0oSKCajks3kVlwhrpggk3WMm5Q%7EPdw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
aafbea0f1451edad055bd153a8e2e7ca
PDF Text
Text
THE
SUPREME POWER
IN THE UNIVERSE.
BY
T. L. STRANGE.
PUBLISHED BY THOMAS
SOOTT,
11 THE TERRACE, FARQUHAR ROAD, UPPER NORWOOD,
LONDON, S.E.
' .* '
1877.
Price Sixpence.
�LONDON :
FEINTED BY C. ~W. BEYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET,
HAYMARKET, W.
�THE
SUPREME POWER IN THE UNIVERSE.
--------_4_-------
HE subject upon which I venture to embark is
one which attracts the attention of every
earnest and reflecting mind, while it is apparent that
it involves considerations surpassing the powers of
the human intellect to apprehend or compass. The
finite cannot grasp the conditions of the infinite, and
yet the sense of the infinite forces itself upon us as
an imperious necessity. For example, we all see
that there must be an eternity of time and an infini
tude of space, because it is impossible that it should
be otherwise. Put time back to any limit, or space
to any bounds, and there must have been time and
space lying beyond the terms contemplated. And
there are other such conditions. Space must be
characterized by eternity equally as time, for such a
state as the absence of space is not imaginable. But
what does space involve ? It has been well observed
that the conception of “ nothingness ” is an impossi
bility. The space, therefore, in all its parts, muBt
have been occupied by something, and that some
thing we must accept as matter, however attenuated
in substance. Matter then has been eternal, as time
and space. But matter cannot be disassociated from
those properties which to our experiences are inherent
to it. That is, it must be what is capable of combina
tion, dissolution, and imparted motion. Being sus
ceptible of being acted upon by what is exterior to it,
it is fair to assume that what may operate upon it,
namely force or energy, is also vested with eternity.
Matter, occupying all space, and therefore immeasur
able in its possible dimensions, is also capable of being
brought to infinitesimal proportions. Reduce an atom
T
�4
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
to any scale, however minute, it cannot be denied
that with adequate means the process of reduction
may be continued perpetually. Thus time, space,
matter, the properties of matter in expansion and
divisibility, and force or energy, are all apparently
associated with infinitude. These are the circum
stances to be recognized in dealing with the important
■subject before us. Thegreat question to be consideredis
whether, beyond the elements sensibly working around
us, there is a higher power, supremely endowed, ope
rating in the universe and governing all things—a
power that has designed and constructed all that we
behold, and that directs all for the accomplishment of
intelligent ends ?
The bulk of mankind, deriving their ideas from
primitive and uninstructed times, have decided
this question by figuring to themselves an
imaginary being to take the place to be filled in
the constitution of the universe as its creator and
•ruler. They have formed this being, as might be
■expected, upon human models, in realization of human
standards of power and excellence, and its special
image is transmitted to them in company with the
'Country, language, and national sentiment with which
they happen to be personally linked. On the
other hand, among the thinking classes there is a
considerable and an increasing body who occupy
themselves with the finite, practically remitting what
is infinite to the precincts of the unreal. What they
can establish to the satisfaction of their senses, upon
positive experience, in connection with the operations
in nature taking place around them, they will ac
knowledge ; what cannot, in the same method and
■degree, be exactly demonstrated, they are content
either to disallow, or to disconnect themselves with
as to them unapproachable. They stand thus in the
opposite extreme to the emotional image worshipers.
But, in their process of negation, these would-be exact
thinkers may prove, possibly, to have placed them-
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
5
selves at greater disadvantage relatively to the truth
than those who have satisfied their desires with wellmeant but fanciful representations, transmitted to
them through ancestral channels, and accepted by
them without questioning.
In such an examination as the present, the
argument from design must assert itself, however
often it may hitherto have been presented, and, as
some think, disposed of. Admitting that there are lawsinherent in nature which must prevail to whatever
use natural materials may be put, we are to consider
how matter may be acted upon and turned to account
without invading these laws. Man works in this
manner with the substances around him, ever con
forming himself to the laws affecting matter, but
converting the substances operated upon, and sub
jecting them to endless combinations, in order toproduce in shape, colour, texture, and adaptabilityy
whatever he desires to effect and serve himself of.
He is able to act even upon organized forms, altering
and improving them within certain limits. Wild
grasses are turned by him into edible grain, sour or
tasteless fruits are developed into delicious products,
flowers are diversified in structure and colour, and
domestic animals are varied and brought to high
standards of excellence. Attention to natural courses
in culture, supplies of nutriment, and conservation of
species or breed, brings about these remarkable results.
Some particular form is aimed at, and in time the
growth is moulded to acquire it. Thus we have
grey-hounds, race-horses, toy-terriers, &c. A change
of colour in the feathers of pigeons, or an alteration
of their bony structures, Mr. Darwin informs us may
be obtained premeditatedly by the proper measures.
But there is a point beyond which the operations of
man cannot extend themselves. In the organic
world he can act upon what exists, inducing varieties,
but he can create nothing. He cannot project
novel forms, or command the sources of life. He
�6
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
can improve but not originate. He cannot even con
ceive a new shape for an animal or a plant, but has
ever to . draw his ideas from existing shapes. The
objects in nature, organized and unorganized, are
endlessly diversified, but he is incapable of suggesting,
far less of producing and adding to these groups, one
purely original structure.
’
In the natural forms there are obvious evidences
of design and adaptation meeting us at every turn,
pointing to some unrevealed power that has planned
and executed the whole. Each object has its appro
priate place, and is surrounded by what is suitable
and necessary to it. Plants propagate themselves by
methods established for them, and take up nutriment
from the soil, the air, and the water supplies, by means
of organs provided them, and assimilate this and con
vert it into their various tissues by instrumentalities
specially constructed for such purpose. Great are
the diversities in the vegetable kingdom, but each
member of the innumerable family keeps its appointed
place and grade. The rose never has the sting of the
nettle, or the proportions of the lordly denizen of the
forest. The fig-tree does not produce the grape, or
the grape the thistle. The projected order is pre
served as by the edict and hand of a law-giver.
Though each form has apparently similar constituent
parts, none of these go astray to invade or disarrange
existing species. A plant is not engrafted on an
animal, nor a bird or fish upon a quadruped. Among
the animal tribes the evidences of what is entitled to
be called design are still more precise. These are put
together with complicated arrangements of articulated
bones, ligaments, vessels, fibres, and external cover
ings, all indispensable to the objects so provided, and
not to be interfered with, injured, or removed, with
out entailing serious sufferings and risks to the being
so operated upon. They are capable of locomotion
and volition. Some move on earth, some in air, some
in the waters, and they are specially framed for their
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
7
respective elements. Appropriate food supplies are
provided them on which they can feed and sustain
their bodily frames. The adaptability of the sexes,
their propensity for each other, the care of offspring,
the instrumentalities given for attack and defence,
and the sagacity and methods of confederated com
munities such as the bees, ants, and beavers, exhibit
the agency of a designing, controlling, and protect
ing power in operation to fit them in organization and
■endowment for the ends of their existence.
In the highest of these vitalized forms, namely
mankind, there are superadded the manifestations of
mind, with the emotions and moral perceptions, to a
degree to set this race on a level of their own, and
give them the supremacy over all that is around them.
The intellect of man examines all things, weighs
consequences, draws conclusions, shapes therefrom
designed courses calculated to attain desired ends,
and stores, imparts, and thus perpetuates its acqui
sitions, raising ever to higher and higher standards
the fabric of human knowledge and excellence. Ad
vancing from what we can judge to have been the
condition of one in the stone age, living in caves,
clothing himself with the skins of animals, and occu
pying himself with but little else than the means of
satisfying his physical wants in the coarsest manner,
we see man in the present day raised to a compara
tively high level through the exercise of the faculties
with which he stands provided. He has surrounded
himself with conveniences and luxuries of habitation,
food, and clothing, and stored himself abundantly
with resources to minister to his ease, enjoyment, and
pleasure ; he enlarges his mind with useful and agree
able knowledge; he transports himself from place
to place, by land and water, in luxurious vehicles
anrl vessels moved without effort from himself, and
sends his messages, to whatever distances, with, a
speed resembling that of the lightning; he. supplies
himself with fuel, metals, and other materials, from
�8
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
the bowels of the earth, pierces mountains to forge
passages through them, spans rivers with roadways,
and transforms the surfaces of the earth to suit his
convenience and secure his ends; his skill sets at
nought physical difficulties, and his power is multi
plied thousands of fold by mechanical means adjusted
to meet with accuracy every purpose ; he exa-mi-neg
nature in her grandest and minutest forms by aids
enormously surpassing the measure of his natural
visual organs ; he analyses everything, ascertaining
its properties to serve himself of them; thus he puts
to use all that he comes in contact with, expanding
his knowledge and improving his status; he en
deavours to understand himself as well as all with
which he is associated; and in this pursuit he is ever
conscious of conditions that transcend the powers of
his apprehension, speaking to him of a supremacy of
knowledge, power, and goodness surpassing the ut
most limits of his conceptions.
Though the universe, in respect of time, space,
matter, and force, is constituted with infinitude, the
objects coming under our observation, one and all, it
is apparent, are of finite order. Whatever may be
their endings, it may be concluded that all have had
their beginnings. The orbs in space express to us
forms obtained by consolidation of matter. We see
vast nebulae floating about in shapeless masses, and
observe some of them in spiral motion, apparently
undergoing conversion into globes such as belong to
our own methodized system. The spectroscope re
veals to us that other spheres are constituted with
materials similar to our own; all seem to be governed
by the same laws, and the presumption is that all
have had a like origin. The crust of the earth speaks
to us of development by superadded matter, ever ad
vancing the capabilities of our globe. At first no
life existed on it; then the waters gave forth marine
products; then dry land appeared and terrestrial
products were generated; and the advance was
�The Supreme Po-wer in the Universe.
9
ever made from inferior to superior conditions, until
at length the stage of excellence in which we stand
was arrived at. Within some circumscribed period,
during the immeasurable expanse of time, everything
we behold, from the vastest orbs in the heavens to
the minutest objects upon earth, has had its beginning.
How have these forms been devised and projected,
with their successions and diversities, and their adap
tations each to its place and sphere ? If the proper
ties in matter were left to uninfluenced operation,
what could have resulted but shapeless combinations
and disruptions effected with ever recurring same
ness ? Could there have been changes of scene and
the constant introduction therein of fresh actors of
endlessly varied form and diversified characteristics ?
Could these have sprung into being, each from its
origin outlined and suitably and adequately endowed
for the position it had to fill ? And could all have
been arranged from the first in nicely-adj us ted correspondence with well-contrived, instrumentalities and
intelligently directed action ? It seems impossible,
with any degree of fairness, to attribute to insentient
matter such high results. Matter is but ingredient
constituted to be put to use by composition. It obeys
the control exercised over it by applied power, as in
stanced in the industrial works of man. In the
sphere that lies beyond his ability to influence, has
it been its own ruler, with capacity to originate diver
sities, fitting these with complicated appliances
specially constituted to secure definite ends ? We see
no signs anywhere, in the well-ordered and compre
hensive system in which we stand, of fortuitous or
eccentric results, of tentative efforts, or failures, and
the conclusion should be inevitable that chance opera
tions of insentient matter have nowhere prevailed,
but that all has been due to intelligence accomplish
ing predetermined ends in supremacy of wisdom and
of power.
_
The operations of man within the range of his
�io
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
means afford indications how, possibly, higher mani
festations, lying beyond the limits of his powers,
may have been brought about. The materials of
which all organized forms are composed exist abun
dantly in the treasuries of nature. In some manner
these are brought together and formulated into living
plants and animals, and again the tie that unites the
■components is severed and they fall into their former
separated or atomic condition. Man, making use
of the materials around him, applies these, according
to their properties and adaptabilities, to develop,
alter, and improve living organisms. He acquires
by experience a knowledge of what these substances
■are capable, and, putting them to use, advances
gradually to perfect his ends. He thus effects very
remarkable changes of form and character in the
objects operated upon, so that the original types
become scarcely recognizable. The process through
which the added matter on these forms is imposed
and incorporated, may be that by which their primi
tive constructions were framed and realized, namely,
the designed use, application, and consolidation,
of those materials of which, at their dissolution,
they are seen to have been composed. If thoughtful
supplies and adaptations are necessary to vary and
improve the plant and animal, thoughtful adaptations
and compositions, it seems fair to conclude, have
been necessary for the formation of the original
structures.
The conditions of life and thought claim special
attention. Some suppose that they are generated
in matter, occurring from its associated properties,
while others maintain they must be derived from
some superior source lying beyond the range of our
observation, and that the material combinations of
which we know are merely channels and instruments
through which the life and the thought act and are
exhibited. The appeal to experience gives us no aid
in arriving at the former conclusion, while, as far as
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
11
it goes, it supports the latter. We see and are
conscious of the operating processes, while of the
sources of life and of thought we have no know
ledge. The manifested action depends upon the
character and condition of the instrumentality, but
we have no means of satisfying ourselves that the
instrumentality generates the action. Where the
organization is feeble, injured, or otherwise defective,
the expression of life, motion, and thought will be
correspondingly lowered, distorted, or imperfect.
A crooked or injured limb will assuredly exhibit
lameness, and a mal-organization or lesion of the
brain weak or perverted thought; and with degenera
tion of thought disturbance of the moral senses may
ensue. But it would be an obvious error to attribute
the source of motion, whatever its character, dis
torted or otherwise, to the limb itself; and equally
may it be viewed as error to ascribe the source of
thought, whether acting normally or abnormally, to
the tissues of the brain. There comes a moment
when the connection between the life and the
thought with the physical organization is snapped,
the latter being left and the former gone, and
then it should become evident that the sentient
properties stand with an origin independent of the
frame which has been once their habitation but has
ceased to hold them.
The prevalence of centralization in the orderings
of nature is a circumstance bearing upon the present
inquiry. The sun visibly rules the movements of
our globe and its associated planets, and, it may be
judged, is the source of supply of their most
important necessities. In like manner the principal
planets rule the movements of their satellites. The
sun, revolving on its centre, is apparently under the
governance of some superior sphere situated in the
expanse beyond it. The solar system, and the
countless orbs in space, are thought to be circling
round some common centre. The mineral, vegetable,
�12
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
and animal kingdoms are held within their proper
bounds, and every species connected with them has
its limits which cannot be transgressed. Each
organized object, whether plant or animal, has some
inward power caring for its existence, ministering to
its . wants, and directing it in efforts for its good.
Is it to be supposed that the law of centralization is
wanting Just where it is most required, and that the
great universe, with its multifarious and complicated
contents and arrangements, all working together in
associated regulation and mutuality of support, is left to
the influence of laws acting casually and independently
in matter without any central governor to watch
over and direct the whole ? Could the well-appointed
system, with all its diversified and orderly details,
which we witness, have resulted from natural forces
abandoned to fortuitous action ? And, were such
the process, should we not have seen tame uniformity
commonly prevailing, varied with confused inter
mixtures and calamitous catastrophes ?
When it is maintained that there is a power, the
author of all the structures we behold, having all in
his keeping and under his governance, and standiug
thus, in a measure, responsible for whatever is and
whatever happens, it is constantly objected, in view
of surrounding evil, weakness, and misery, that, per
mitting or necessitating such results, he cannot be
possessed of those attributes of perfect wisdom, capa
bility, and goodness, which should belong to such a
being, and which are universally ascribed to the
Creator by those who recognize his existence.
It is apparent, when we contemplate the circum
stances of our globe, that it has attained its existing
condition through a process of advancement from low
to higher results. It was, seemingly, shapeless
nebula, till consolidated into its present form; at first
it was without life upon its surfaces, then came
marine organizations, and afterwards those that are
terrestrial. The primitive was not the perfected con-
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
13
flition, but all had to be developed through graduated
elaborations. Man himself forcibly illustrates this
principle in nature of progress from inferior to
superior stages. He has had to better himself
as to his food, clothing, habitation, conveniences,
knowledge, by exercising intelligent industry, all
that he requires having to be wrought out by his
own exertions, where nothing was presented to him
ready fashioned for his use. And as he has had to
provide for his physical wants, so also has he had to
minister to those demanded by his intellectual and
moral constitution.
In the processes of the physical advancements in
nature, it is remarkable how, by an evident law, one
object serves itself of others for purposes of self
advantage. The minerals and the gases of the
atmosphere feed upon allied substances, disintegrating
and absorbing matter standing in affinity to them;
the vegetables appropriate what they require from
the minerals and the atmosphere, adding their
acquisitions to their own systems ; and the animals
freely consume the vegetables, and also devour one
another, none being more destructive of lower life
than the intelligent beings standing at the head of
the created forms. To accomplish such ends in the
vegetable kingdom, leaves and rootlets, acting as
absorbents, are supplied, and in the animal, muscles,
talons, and fangs; while man is endowed with inge
nuity enabling him to fashion weapons, placing all
other living beings at his mercy. If we are to object
to evil and suffering in the world, the weak falling
sacrifices to the strong, consistency would require us
to demand that an end should be put to all these
operations whereby the superior orders receive their
supplies at the expense of the inferior.
Another objection taken is that the exercise of
free-will by man interferes with the idea entertained
of an omnipotent Creator. If man, it is observed,
is a free agent, he cannot be under the control of a
�14
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
supreme director; if not a free agent he is not a
responsible being. The attribute of free-will, or some
thing analogous thereto, belongs to spheres below that
of the human race. Wherever there is independent
action, there is an operation resembling, however
distantly, the expression of will in man. The attrac
tions and repulsions in organic matter act with
invariable certainty, and so far these substances may
be said to be left to their own courses. In organic
forms these properties take the shape of the affections
and antipathies, inducing the correspondent action of
love and hatred. The plants have a faculty resem
bling the will of animals whereby they may be said
to govern themselves for their good. They extend
their branches in the direction of the light, courting
its influences, and their roots in that of their nutri
ment ; trees will incline their stems so as best to
resist, prevailing winds, and the sensitive plant
exhibits aversion to touch such as might characterize
one of the animal tribe. Every animal, however low
in type, has the means of selecting and appropriating
what is calculated to serve for its sustenance, and it
is only specimens of the very lowest order which have
not liberty to move about as they may please. We
see among them, as plainly as in mankind, the exer
cise of the affections, the display of the antipathies,
sexual and parental love, rapaciousness in securing
their prey, or ingenuity in avoiding seizure, the whole
being manifestations of free-will operating among
them within the bounds of their natural capacities.
In man the scope of the will has more extended
action. Where the creature is low in scale its wants
are limited, and its occasions for ruling itself are
proportionately few, and therewith its liability to
error is reduced. The animals are therefore com
monly governed by a faculty of nearly unerring
quality, which we term instinct rather than rea
son. When there is the gift of high intelligence,
as in man, the field of the wants and the temptations
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
15
is greatly enlarged, and he being left to fulfil his
desires through the exercise of his mental endow
ments, the risk of misdirecting himself is propor
tionately increased. He is conscious of two powers
within him, the one inclining him to what is right,
the other to what is wrong ; and his judgment is apt
to form erroneous conclusions respecting matters on
which it is exercised. Thus, while animals, as a rule,
are seen shaping their way in a natural and healthy
manner, man is liable to misuse his powers and to
plunge himself habitually into what is detrimental to
him. The question is how far the supreme Creator
and director contemplated can be held responsible
for the evil with which mankind are associated.
The laws of nature, whereby mankind have to rule
themselves, are so unvarying in their constitution,
that they cannot be broken without entailing, to a
certainty, corresponding unfavourable results. If
man, exercising his reason and free-will, misjudges
these laws, or disregards them, be it in ignorance or in
hardihood, he brings upon himself, inevitably, the
consequences attaching to the violation. If he walks
heedlessly into a river or over a precipice, his life is
endangered or destroyed ; if he deliberately puts his
finger into the fire he is burnt, or into a snake’s mouth
poisoned. He feels himself free to do all this or to
abstain from so doing. If he habitually gorges him
self with unwholesome food his health will suffer;
if he constantly inebriates himself his entire system
will be overthrown. The moral constitution, equally
as the physical, has its laws which cannot be invaded
with impunity. The man addicted to lying, stealing,
lust, violence, or any vice, debases himself, wounds
his conscience, forfeits his own self-esteem, and is
despised and avoided by all the respectable portion of
his fellow-creatures. He unfits himself for any honest
pursuit, is trusted by none, and becomes amenable to
the offended laws of his country. Unhappily the
degeneration of the parent, whether physically or
�16
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
morally, may be transmitted to his stock, and much
of man’s infirmities and obliquities belong to him
constitutionally through ancestral influences. Some
of his forefathers have disobeyed the laws of nature
in their own persons, and the injurious consequences
have been transmitted to their offspring. Much
depravity is also induced by the force of circum
stances and of example, whereby the individual is
enslaved in early youth before he has had sense or
fortitude to resist surrounding influences or assert
his independence. It is then asked, in respect of the
asserted author of our beings, whether, if not directly
responsible for the evil invading man, he is not so
indirectly, from having involved man in conditions to
incur the evil, and formed him weak and liable to be
prejudicially acted upon, duped, and betrayed into
what is hurtful to him ?
The answer to this question may perhaps be best
given by suggesting the converse of the condition
objected to. To be insusceptible of evil, man must
be so constituted as not to admit of evil invading
him, and the elements must be restrained from in any
way presenting evil to him. To fulfil the conditions
demanded, man must be established perfect in wis
dom, knowledge, and power, or, in a word, placed on
a level with his contemplated maker. The world,
and all connected therewith, must be altered to suit
beings so privileged. There must be no extremes of
climate, no storms, floods, or earthquakes ; water
must not drown, fire must not burn, food must be
never otherwise than beneficial, and all poisons must
be expelled; the animals must be harmless to man
and to each other, sustaining themselves in some
wholly innocuous manner, or rather made capable of
living without reducing other elements to destruc
tion, vegetal or animal, for the sake of supporting
themselves; there must be no catastrophes or acci
dents of any description, and death itself, with its
attendant debility to the dying man, and woe to the
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
17
survivors, must be abolished. Thus the arrangements
of the creation must be put aside, and an entirely
new system introduced, in order that man may be
preserved free of the possibility of experiencing evil.
And what would be gained by the change ? There
•would be no sense of right and wrong where wrong
could have no room; there would be no appreciation
of virtue or wisdom where there was no vice and no
folly; all being perfect in body and mind, none
could require anything of another; there would be
no sympathies, no interchange of thought, no
stimulus to exertion ; all would be on the dead level
of unalterable equality.
The tenets of the Christians and the Secularists
leave both parties without the means of accounting
for existing evil. The Christians consign the greater
part of mankind to everlasting torment, whatever
they may have suffered on earth, making the very
existence of these rejected ones a continuous expres
sion of unrelieved and aimless evil; the Secularists,
seeing no future for man, leave all present evil ulti
mately remediless. The race, they say, may improve
in the course of ages to an infinite extent, but for
individual suffering in the meanwhile there is no
compensation ; and bitter are their complaints against
the ordering of creation which entails such results.
But if it may be believed that there is a future in store
for man, and that the entire race have been created
for final good, there are considerations, of an obvious
character, to clear the question of its difficulties.
Every transgression against the laws of nature,
physical and moral, being followed by disadvantage
ous and frequently painful consequences, it is appa
rent that the sufferings induced are designed to guide
the individual to other courses not entailing such
consequences ; that is, the evil visits the transgressor
for the purposes of correction and instruction, and
thus is enforced a system consistent with the pre
sumption that man has been created for good and
�18
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
not for evil; and as the desired results are not secured
in this life, it also becomes reasonably probable that
a future state of existence, when he has ended his
days on earth, is awaiting him, wherein the fruits of
his discipline will become apparent, and the training
needful for him be carried on continuously. Free-will,
within certain bounds, is thus necessary to man to
allow of the treatment in aid of his moral culture to
which he is subjected being maintained. If he could
not take action with spontaneity for his own govern
ance, he would be a mere automaton, executing his
appointed offices, but learning nothing. But with
liberty of action permitted him, and the consequences
of acting rightly or wrongly brought home to his ex
periences, the course of instruction necessary for his
advancement is plainly instituted. If his welfare
consists in his directing himself due north, every
deflection to the east or the west carries him out of
his way. Were no bad consequences to ensue from
his taking a wrong direction, he would pursue it to the
end and never reach his proper destination; but when
evil comes upon him at his first step in a wrong line,
he receives a warning which should arrest his course
and induce him at once to turn to a better path. The
process speaks of a moral governor and director pre
siding over human conduct and interests. The indi
vidual is subjected to constant discipline, here and
probably hereafter, in view of elevating his nature
and fitting him to be a recipient of boundless blessing.
To pause upon the circumstances of this fleeting life
and pass thereupon an ultimate judgment, is an
obvious mistake, if there is such a future before us ;
and without such future it is impossible to understand
why the discipline undergone should have been im
posed. We may take an illustration from the culti
vation of the vine. Its shoots are pruned away, its
roots are laid bare to the cold of winter, offensive
refuse is presented to it for its sustenance, and its
first efforts at production are balked, its clusters
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
19
being nipped off and cast away as rubbish. At this
time, any one ignorant that there was a future
for the plant, would say an enemy is dealing with it;
but when at a later period it is seen spreading itself
around, its branches covered with luscious fruit, the
mystery is cleared up, and it is found to have ever been
in the hands of one caring for it, aiming at its good,
and knowing effectually how to attain his end. The
sour and uninviting wild grape, through the treat
ment it has undergone in interference with its natural
impulses, has been converted, by seemingly harsh but
really beneficial measures, into the first of fruits. In
like manner the gold, if it had a voice, might com
plain of the furnace of the refiner, while the process
for its purification is but a passing stage, necessary to
have it accepted and put to use as the most precious
of the metals. Just so is it with the human race, who
have to be advanced through the school of suffering
from their original low standard, scarcely lifting
them above the brutes around them, to the expression
of the highest excellence. To be turned from error
they have to be made sensible of the painful results
induced by error, and their spirits have to be lowered
and rendered ductile, apprehensive, and teachable;
and each has to learn his lessons for himself. A father
would gladly transfer to his son the advantage of the
experience he has earned, but the son would then be
a mere copy of the father, whereas, to be stable, he
must have a character of his own ; and it is only by
his individual training that this can be sealed to him
and be made to him an enduring benefit.
Is man, in the onward path marked out for him,,
which he has to pursue under such constant attention
to the circumstances in his way, left altogether to his
own resources unwatched and uncared for by any supe
riordirector? Is it in his case an assiduously maintained
culture unfollowed by a harvest ? Does he strive, at
whatever sacrifice, for spiritual advancement, and end
by obtaining no recognition? There are fields of know-
�20
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
ledge, apparent to him, lying beyond the reach even
of his apprehension. The conditions of measureless
expanses of time and space, and infinite resources of
matter and power, occur to him as necessities, but he
is unequal to grasp and comprehend such circum
stances. As he examines the roots of things he finds
himself incapable of fathoming any of them. He can
observe with tolerable accuracy immediate causes, but
the ultimate causes are always out of his reach. He
knows not how his food is assimilated, how life
enters his own or any other system, how any seed or
ovum fructifies and is developed into its appropriate
form. There are then founts of knowledge, of which
he is conscious, but which are unapproachable to him
in his present state of constitution. In the moral
field his apprehensions and desires are equally high
and aspiring, and his capacity for attaining the ends
he has in view in like manner limited and insufficient.
He can conceive standards of excellence too exalted
to be reached by any human effort. Govern himself
how he will he is always sensible of shortcomings.
He knows he might do better, but his inadequate
powers prevent his acting up to his recognized prin
ciples. He has aspirations of an indefinable nature,
proper to himself, in which others, whatever their ex
periences or maturity, are ill-qualified to take part.
These are the struggles of the inner man for expan
sion, recognition, satisfaction, which can be directed
only to some quarter external to and above himself,
where he may claim sympathy and support, and be
sure of being met and dealt with free of risk of mis
apprehension. Is there such a quarter in the unseen
world to which he may go for the relief and supply of
those his ultimate needs that he fully feels can never
be met and satisfied in any other direction ?
We are conscious, in our own systems, that mind
has command over matter, the direction of our
thoughts and studies, every movement of our limbs,
every action of which we are capable, being initiated
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
11
and regulated by the power o£ will implanted m us.
One of superior will, intellect, or tone of feeling,
readily impresses and influences those around him,
and there are occasions when the dominion of ope
mind over other minds is evidently exerted with in
tention and success. If the physical forms around us
have been devised and put together by some unseen
constructor qualified to accomplish his designs in
whatever he thus undertakes, may we not believe that
those higher faculties belonging to man, his intelli
gence, emotions, and moral sentiments, which are not
accidents of his nature, but belong to all m various
degrees, under an universal law, proceed from a like
source and are subjected to a like governing agency t
And as the physical man is sustained by resources of
supply outside himself, may we not conclude that the
inner man, equally requiring sustenance and growth,
receives supports from a direction external to his
System, and is in the hands of a superior power,
cognizant of his wants, and ever ministering to him
for his good ?
.
•
i
The conscience is a faculty influencing our moral
condition, the existence of which all must recognize.
Fairly and honestly used its dictates will ever be in
the right direction, nor are its indications given in
uncertainty or weakened by compromise. As if by
the finger of a supreme director, . to the true anc*earnest seeker the proper path will be pointed out
and commended for adoption. And if the indications
given are disobeyed, ordinarily the thoughts of the
disobedient will be troubled till they yield and pursue
the course they are made to feel is the right one. If,
however, the teachings of the inward monitor are set
at nought, its action becomes weakened, the moral
perceptions are obscured or perverted, and the indivi
dual sinks into indifference or degradation; but the
witness is merely quelled and silenced, not absolutely
extinguished, the conscience of the most hardened
being always susceptible of awakenment by some
�22
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
visitation lowering and searching out his spirit,
or by some monition and appeal addressed to him
reaching his inmost apprehension. Is not this re
markable property, which< is common to man, just
such a medium as a superior power may make use of
to come into contact with us in order to stimulateour thoughts and direct our actions for our ultimate
good ?
It must in the end be conceded that whatever has
been offered in these pages as reasonable possibilities,
can only be accepted properly by those who are able
to believe and act upon the conditions spoken of. If
the Creator is to work sensibly upon the creature, it
is a first necessity that the existence of such a beinoas the Creator should be recognized. There are
multitudes who avow that there is such a being, but
who approach the subject no further. Theirs is an
acknowledgment based upon no personal persuasion,
but such as is merely due to the prevalence of com
mon consent. The Securalist may be forgiven for
challenging a creed not supported by better founda
tions, especially when it is seen to take its shape from
the crude anthropomorphic models of the ancients.
To feel that there is such a power as I presume to
point to, the sense of his being must be expressed by
habitual dependence upon his rule. He does not
show his hand to those who are not prepared to take
home to themselves the fact of his interpositions.
Nor can any trace his dealings in discipline of their
spirits who have not submitted their interests to his
direction and keeping.
The whole race, laden with infirmities and sur
rounded by temptations, are in a position to requirethe ruling hand of this supreme and infallible director,
and access to him must therefore be free to all.
There can be no gate to be closed or opened, the
mere circumstances of existence giving all a title to
approach their Creator, and receive at his hands the
satisfaction of their wants. Addressing themselves
�The Supreme Power in the Universe.
23
to the same being, the experiences of all resorting to
him, should be, and are, necessarily alike. And alike
also are their ultimate hopes. Setting aside all
artificial distinctions, and fancied stepping-stones,
deliverance from evil, and establishment in final
blessing, are the aims, in all their several forms of
worship of the devout, whatever their denominations,
whether Catholic, Protestant, Theist, Jew, Mahommedan, or Pagan. A common creed, based upon
natural and universal testimonies, awaits the accept
ance of mankind when they may bring themselves
to be satisfied with it—a creed full and comprehen
sive ; sufficing for every need and every desire;
giving no room, when once apprehended, on which
doubt, distrust, or divison can find a standing place ;
round which the whole race may range themselves
in assured union ; resting on foundations wide
-enough for all, adaptable to all, and which can be
disturbed only when the universe itself, with all its
associated conditions, is overthrown. It is a belief
that the Almighty Being standing as the author and
the ruler of all is our ever-present and unalterable
friend. Such a confidence should reconcile us to
every form of temporal evil, and bind us together in
the recognition of a brotherhood rooted in him—often
professed, but hitherto never realized. Every other
creed yet resorted to has introduced some inter
mediate agency, a circumstance necessarily occasioning
isolation, and promoting discord. This creed alone
is stamped with simplicity, grandeur, universality, and
every element of demonstrable truth ; suitable to the
merest child; sufficient for the most matured and en
lightened intellect; and holding out considerations and
prospects to tranquillize and satisfy every mind. It
provides the one who is governed by it with
grounds to reconcile him to the present life and its
manifold ills, and hopes to cheer and support him in
view of a life that has to come. The Secularist is
without either source of consolation ; evils unredressed
�24
The Supreme Power in the Universe.
embitter the thoughts he has of existing conditions,
and a future is not before him. The artificial creeds,
it is now apparent, cannot stand the knowledge of
the day, and are being manifestly subverted. It be
comes ns to supply their place with sufficiently broad
and solid foundations. We must not be content to
recognize and obey the intellect and disown the
emotional part of our systems, any more than we
should think of feeding the emotions at the expense
of the intellect. The whole man must be met in all
his requirements, and the sense that we are in the
hands of a beneficent creator, under training for
future blessing, is that which alone can compass us
in our varied conditions, remove all difficulties in our
paths, and fulfil our every need. If this be the true
faith, to this faith we may rest assured we all shall
come. Then the world at large will be introduced
to confidences and hopes it has never had, and its
advancement in all that should characterize it as the
work of him who has made it, will, it may be safely
concluded, be fairly initiated and prosper onwards
and for evermore.
PRINTED BY C. W. RBYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The supreme power in the universe
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Strange, Thomas Lumisden
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 24 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Printed by C.W. Reynell, Little Pulteney Street, London. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Thomas Scott
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
G5522
Subject
The topic of the resource
Cosmology
Theism
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The supreme power in the universe), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Conway Tracts
Space and Time
Theism-History of Doctrines
Universe
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/2917b10daf71e410fc69db6802ada1c5.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=CbjgGFmEYfasERncK74lbOITAAyhB6XH0Y3rL9FCuKVbZoqHhKBxwhX4oexDS2PTWwCKf03knKXXYNolRSoJICTflJHWNHL1sFtLdVGM89HnUXrmERSmr%7EfqpAswgBggYhhJuwtGg7rbZPMSj6u%7Ez4q1bVtH-LxmgfWlxswd3L5ZhNuXe5f48S-E4wA1ZfphhR-76dHAVs%7Er8d23WkDPRqyxiQU5T12-LAK--8sIttDxcSb5WpPEvEdr5eZtbbrJeN6aM-sJNpWIJ9EH5wvCRl9E8YpjAvggBqsgZgR9HR1pPyxRPWMuJbCySfca7%7E-ohJwEmc-THPmiJMzZrd-3Pg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
e6dbdf60a38bd32c134defee210a0199
PDF Text
Text
����������������������
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Yggdrasil; or the Teutonic tree of existence
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Blind, Karl
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 20 p. ; 21 cm.
Notes: Includes bibliographical references. Inscription in ink: "To Moncure D. Conway - as a token of friendship. K.B." Printed in double columns. Reprinted from Fraser's Magazine with some additions. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Spottiswoode & Co., printers
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
CT69
Subject
The topic of the resource
Mythology
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Yggdrasil; or the Teutonic tree of existence), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Conway Tracts
Norse Mythology
Yggdrasil
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/93d84de8e28b8e5dcf333d5aff52c59e.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=U3RdGibC3UXXDMwdWCD19W6LCSiji5G4Z0zJU-xqu0XHgVNWVF9aZuQQ33-qtwoNlHtA6KCmVOhidLob5clFr98RwB%7ETCk8vlaSaDd8hRHq1IdH8DVdvV3Ga%7EBLnECteQyvdhpmgEg5GYruad9W%7EvChZwsw%7E%7EM1DnWcuyKxR-xZD1JZLejQA8e1uS8bqiPHAqt8629mtppzdkhWMv5Q-zxInnvUfBpZM7VdCkBbjOlIxcmsT83Z3v0bm6qyNsTOX4i8g9AeokefbQHlomWt5fBd3CvtanpBfqk10PoxBeMToXn6NwAK7j-R5NxkLXOrhTH-OkSZShP-FQYoYboBgNw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
17c76cdcf2bad5f53a9d636da473f325
PDF Text
Text
FRASER’S MAGAZINE
DECEMBER 1877.
MYCENAE.1
■'
T
(From Personal Investigation.)
Then divine, full-eyed Juno answered,
4 Three cities are particularly dear to me—
Argos, and Sparta, and wide-wayed Mycenae.’—iv. 51.
|HE plain of Argos, surrounded
with bold and picturesque
Ji. j! mountain ranges, would, for its
^cfl beauty alone, be worthy of a visit;
j
the remains of its very old cities give
| an additional attraction; and the
| late explorations and discoveries at
M| Mycenae have drawn the attention
!«.JI of all who take an interest in
1<*
n® archaeology or classic literature.
! 1 AU Homer’s phrases descriptive of
nil the region indicate great fertility; he
ir.l calls it1 steed-nourishing,’ ‘ fruitful; ’
mland. the words ‘ udder of the land,’
dwwhich he applies, may not only describe it as a country of ample food
qirfsupplies, but the term may be also
jjolfounded on that particular worship
jof the cow which as we know from
oofbooks, and our knowledge has been
Fn {added to from the recent excavations,
ahiwas a leading trait of the religion
3 of that part of the world. This
< fertility seems to have attracted
1 many races, and invasion and con1 ^uest were the result. New races
j seem to have brought myths with
£ |hem, and left more than one stratum
] If this kind in the literature which
s las come down to us. We have
11rst the Pelasgians, whose early
U 1 Ind little known period is connected
dii >vith the name of Inachus, the first
gn png of Argos. With his daughter
1
, jo, we obtain the first glimpse of
-'■r
the primitive bovine cultus, which is
supposed to have come from Egypt,
and there is the authority of
Diodorus Siculus that the story of
Isis had been transferred to Argos.
The fragments of traditional history
seem to show that there had been in
these far back times a considerable
intercourse between the nations
round the Mediterranean. Hero
dotus begins his History by telling
how the Phoenicians went to Argos
with Egyptian and Assyrian mer
chandise, and how they carried off
the daughter of Inachus—a story
that has very little in it which can be
identified with the drama of Aeschy
lus. As Herodotus gives it, and sup
plemented by his remarks on the
Greek customs, it has much the ap
pearance of being the first germ of
the story of Helen and Troy.
Later still comes the race of Pelops
the Phrygian. How far the history
of this king and his descendants is
literal or mythical, has still to be
settled; but accepting the tra
dition, it is evidence of some con
nection between Greece and Asia
Minoi’ at that particular period.
Invasion is no doubt the most
probable fact upon which to found
the explanation. If an Ionian race
colonised the coast of Asia Minor
at one time, the contrary process
may have taken place at another.
If conquest or invasion brought
a people from the north-west corner
of Asia to the Argolic plain, they,
1 [The writer visited Mycenae in the month of March 1877.]
VOL. XVI,—NO. XCVI.
NEW SERIES.
3 B 2
�676
Mycenai.
no doubt, brought some of their
religion and myths, as well as their
arts, along with them. Such an
event could not have taken place
without an influence having been
produced among the invaded race.
The consideration of this Asiatic
influence is of deep importance, as
bearing on the sources of all Greek
art, but it is of still higher moment
when we have to consider the
remains of that art which are still
found in the locality associated with
the first advent of a Lydian dyn
asty. Thucydides explains the cir
cumstance that Pelops was able,
although a foreigner, to give his
name to the whole peninsula, that
it was owing to his great wealth,
and coming among a poorer popula
tion ; but wealth implies cultivation
of the arts, and if the historian has,
in this case, given us a reliable
statement of the matter, an importa
tion of art influence from Asia
about that early period may be
freely enough accepted. Homer’s
own allusions to Sidonian. art are
too numerous to leave the point
doubtful. This superiority which
seems to have existed on the Asiatic
coast of the Mediterranean was not
confined to one department, for
in addition to the cunning art of
pouring gold around silver, the
women of Sidon and Lesbos are
mentioned as having been skilful
in faultless works of embroidery.
The sculpture on the triangular
slab over the Lion Gate at Mycenae is
described by all as bearing a strong
resemblance to the art of Assyria ;
this resemblance is no doubt owing
to the Asiatic influence of a school
of art which followed a style similar
to that practised at the time on
the banks of the Euphrates.
Even the Cyclopean construction
of walls, of which such splendid spe
cimens still remain at Tiryns and
Mycenae, came also, if we accept
Strabo’s statements, from Asia; he
[December
says that the walls of Tiryns were
built by the Cyclopes, and that
they came from Lycia. Proetus
seems to have sent for these people,
implying that such builders did not
exist about Argos at that time;
they were called ‘ Gastrocheires * for
the reason that they got their living
by the practice of their art. The
term would not sound well in the
ear of modern society if it were
literally translated and applied to
architects or artists in our own day ;
still its real signification is in itself
honourable, and not the less so for
its antiquity. In a former article on
Troy,2 I pointed out from the frag
ments of Cyclopean walls yet to be
seen at Gergis, in the Troad, that
this mode of building had under
gone in that region a similar
process of change to that which we
find it had passed through in the
Argolic plain. One object called
for this identification, and that was
to indicate the significance of the
circumstance that no structure of
this kind had yet been discovered
at Hissarlik. Strabo’s account that
these Gastrocheires came from that
direction gives still further force to
what was then said, and adds much
to the high probability that the
contemporaneous cities of Mycenaa,
Tiryns, and Troy would not differ
much in the masonry of their for
tified walls. Although this Cyclo
pean masonry is found all the way
from Asia to Etruria, as well as in
the islands of the Archipelago, yet
it may be worth noting that no
such building is to be found in
Egypt. Whatever might be the
influence which carried it over the
region just named, that influence
produced no result on the architec
ture of the Nile Valley. Although
the large stones in the walls of
Jerusalem and Balbec are large
enough to justify the use of the
word Cyclopean, yet that term is
never applied to them. The transi
’ 'The Schliemannic Ilium,’ Fraser, July 1877.
�1877]
Mycenae.
tion from, rude unhewn stones to
the cut polygonal and then to the
rectangular which can be traced on
the northern shores of the Mediterra
nean, is missing on the south-east
corner of the same sea. The old walls
of the Temple inclosure at Jerusalem
have been probed to the bottom,
and. there large squared blocks rest
ing on the solid rock are found.
This geographical distribution of
a peculiar kind of masonry cannot
be considered without calling to
mind the affinities of race and
religion which Mr. Fergusson has
SO ably insisted on as bearing upon
the proper understanding of the
history of architecture.
Mycenae fts well as its neigh
bouring city Tiryns are both men
tioned by Homer in the catalogue
of the ships. In both cases there
are descriptive terms given with
their mention, and these terms are
valuable as bearing on their archaeo
logy. Tiryns is called ‘ the well
walled its great rampart of mas
sive but rude Cyclopean masonry
yet standing in defiance of decay
attest the truth of Homer’s words.
The walls are twenty-five feet thick:
some of the blocks may have had
a slight trimming, but most of
them are untouched with a tool.
Mycenae again is called the ‘ wellbuilt city.’ As it was stronger from
its position, it did not require such
walls as we find at Tiryns; being, as
is generally supposed, later than the
last-mentioned city, its walls indi
cate a development in the art of
construction, for at the Lion Gate,
as well as at the smaller gate, the
stones are partly squared, and might
be described as ‘rudely rectangular.’
Here also it is satisfactory to dis
cover the faithfulness of Homer’s
descriptive adjectives. From this
we may be justified in supposing
that there was equal truth in Juno’s
words when she called the city
‘ wide-wayed Mycense.’ It might
be difficult to define what were the
notions in the days of Homer as to
677
what constituted a wide street; all
we can conclude is that the thorough
fares of Mycense were wider than
most other places of that time.
Troy is also described by the poet
under the same words, as well as
having been ‘ well built.’ We have
found that Homer is accurate in his
descriptive terms, and his applica
tions of the same words to Mycenae
and Troy are strong evidence in
themselves of what I insisted on in
my former article, that should the
walls of Ilium be discovered they
ought at least to bear some resem
blance to those of the contempora
neous capital of the Atreidse. The
absence of a single stone of ‘ wellbuilt’ or of Cyclopean masonry at
Hissarlik need not now be dwelt on.
When it is added that Mycenae
was ‘ rich,’ and had ‘ gold in plenty,’
the statements respecting it to be
found in Homer are about ex
hausted. Giving such limited in
formation about this place, it would
be hard to say whether it was pro
bable that he had seen it or not. If
the poet was an Achaian and not an
Ionian Greek, as is strongly urged
by at least one high authority at the
present day, the details of such an
important city could not have been
unknown to him.
On the other
hand, supposing he had been an
Ionian, the city of the great leader
of the Trojan Expedition—‘ the
king of men’—must have been
talked of in Chios and Smyrna,
and its chief features would
have been heard of by the one
author, or the many, whatever view
may be taken of the Homeridse.
The scant allusions to Mycense are
in perfect keeping with the other
epithets to be found in the Iliad
connected with geographical refer
ences ; the probable explanation
being, that whatever knowledge the
author might have of particular
places, all the details were kept sub
dued as a background for the main
story of the piece.
Mycenae is situated on the north
�678
Mycenae.
east of the Argolic plain : its posi
tion is under the shelter of promi
nent mountains, and is partly con
cealed from below by the lower
ridges. The position must have
been good as a defence to the rich
and tempting plain from incursions
going southwards, and it must have
been a very important stronghold
strategically with reference to all
invasions of the Peloponnesus
coming by way of the Isthmus. In
this circumstance we may perhaps
have the explanation of its im
portance and repute at such an
early period in the history of Greece.
The place is usually understood to
have been destroyed in 468 B.c.;
according to some it has been de
serted ever since; others again doubt
this statement. Strabo gives it that
Mycenae was razed by the Argives,
and that not a trace of the city was
left; Pausanias, a century and a
half later, describes the place,
showing that Strabo either had not
looked carefully or had not been
lucky in his sources of information
relating to it. The place yet agrees
so very fairly with the description
of Pausanias, that this continuation
of identity might be given as evi
dence of the enduring character of
the walls, which seem to have
suffered so little during such a long
period of years.
It may perhaps be as well to give
the words of Pausanias. He says:
Among other parts, however, of the in
closure which still remain, a gate is per
ceived with lions standing on it; and they
report that these were the work of the
Cyclopes, who also made for Prcetus the
wall in Tirynthus. But among the ruins
of Mycenae there is a fountain called Persea,
and subterraneous habitations of Atreus
and his sons, in which they deposited their
treasures. There is also a sepulchre of
Atreus, and of all those who, returning
from Troy with Agamemnon, were slain at
a banquet by zEgisthus. For there is a
dispute between the Lacedaemonians who
inhabit Amyclae and the Mycenaeans con
cerning the sepulchre of Cassandra. There
is also a tomb here of Agamemnon and of
his charioteer Eurymedon, and one sepul
chre in common of Teledamus and Pelops,
[December
who, as they report, were twins and the
offspring of Cassandra, and who, white
they were infants, were slain by zEgistlius
at the tomb of their parents. There is
likewise a sepulchre of Electra; for she
was given by Orestes in marriage to Pylades, from whom, according to Hellenicus,
she bore to Pylades two sons, Medon and
Strophius. But Clytemnestra and 2Egisthus are buried at a little distance from the
walls; for they were not thought worthy
of burial within the walls, where Aga
memnon and those that fell with him were
interred. (Taylor's Translation.')
The traveller who now visits
Mycenae will find accommodation
in the village of Charvati, from
which it is nearly a mile up to the
citadel. In walking up to it, the
road ascends by the lower ridge;
part of an old Cyclopean bridge can
be seen below, where the ancient
road is supposed to have crossed
from Argos and Tiryns. Just as the
Acropolis comes in sight, the socalled Treasury of Atreus is found
under your feet. From this there
extends a long rocky ridge, with
fragments of stone, where lines
of wall may be traced, which may
perhaps be the remains of houses as
old as 500 B.c. Below on the left
are the Third and Fourth Trea
suries ; and on the right again,
close under the walls of the
Acropolis, is the Second Treasury,
in which Madame Schliemann has
done such good service by clearing
out and exploring. Now it can be
properly seen and examined, which
is of importance, for although such
structures are not uncommon in
Greece, yet the two larger so-called
treasuries at Mycenae are the most
perfect of this class of remains as
yet known in that country. At
this point the visitor is close to the
Acropolis, and the most prominent
feature which it now presents is the
large mass of earth which Dr.
Schliemann has thrown over the
walls while making his excavations.
The old Cyclopean wall is entirely
covered for some distance by this
process. To the right it emerges
and turns up the rocky glen where
�Mycenae.
the bare cliffs are so high and perpendicular that they must have
been a sufficient defence in themSelves. Still there are remains of
parts of the wall to be seen, which
must have been of more use in time
of peace as a shelter to those
within, than as a defence in time of
war against those without. On the
i left of the explorations is the Gate
*•
$
rj ■
i
p.
sa
R
f j
Q79
of the Lions, and the natural scarp
along the north side not being so
strong originally, a more formid
able wall had been constructed
to supply the deficiency. About
the middle of this side there is a
second gate, but it is much smaller
than the principal one. The size
of the stones and the mode of
construction would imply that they
(®}j
■W
i)n
WL
riad;
jaci L
si®
SKETCH-PLAN OP MYCENJE.
A Gate of the Lions.
b Smaller gateway in north wall.
c Dr. Schliemann’s excavations.
d Treasury No. 1, the so-called Treasury of Atreus.
B Treasury No. 2, explored by Madame Schliemann,
p Treasury No. 3.
G Treasury No. 4.
H H H Aqueduct.
, i Remains of ancient bridge of Cyclopean masonry.
t- J Isolated hill with structural remains.
K k-k Remains of the ancient city.
L Modern village of Charvati.
1
both belonged to the same date.
this surrounding fortifica
tion the rock rises towards the
Centre, and there are still remain
ing portions of retaining walls, which
would indicate that the ground had
been levelled for houses and streets.
. It is at the north-west corner of
j# the Acropolis, and just within the
3^ Gate of the Lions, that Dr. Schlie
J; Within
mann has lately made his very suc
cessful explorations; indeed, one of
his first operations was to clear out
the gate down to the old roadway,
and this most interesting portal,
one of the oldest, and most perfect
for its age, can be seen now in its
full proportions. One curious feature
has been brought to light, and that
is a small cell, very small indeed, on
�680
Mycenoe.
the inside, and which was evidently
intended for the accommodation of
the door-keeper. While clearing
out the gate, the excavations were
also carried on within, and these
resulted in the discovery of a series
of most interesting tombs, full of
valuable relics of a far-past period
in the history of man, and which
are of the highest importance to the
science of archaeology.
One of the structures laid bare
at this place is so pntirely new in
all its details, more particularly to
the student of classical architec
ture, that its original purpose pre
sented a problem of some difficulty,
although there is a certain agree
ment of opinion regarding it. Still,
being so unique, there need be no
surprise if newer light should
demand a revision of the case, and
a change in the verdict. It was
described in Dr. Schliemann’s letters
to the Times when he first brought
it to light as a ‘ circular double
parallel row ’ of large slabs. The
circle formed by these two rows of
slabs is at least ioo feet in diameter;
the space between the rows is about
3 feet 6 inches. ‘ The slabs are
from 4 feet 2 inches to 8 feet 2
inches long, and i foot 8 inches to
4 feet broad.’ They may be a
little over 4 inches in thickness.
The space between these two circles
would seem to have been covered
over with horizontal slabs of stone,
for the upper edges, on the inside,
have been mortised to receive
tenons, and which no doubt kept
the horizontal slabs secure in their
places. A few of these covering
slabs still remain in situ on one part
of the circle, and, as the stones are
all dressed and worked tolerably
smooth, they seem to have fitted
together pretty accurately; the
whole, when complete, must have
presented the appearance of a cir
cular stone bench. There seems to
have been an entrance to this inclo
sure from the north, which is the
side of the circle nearest to the
[December
Gate of the Lions, showing a rela
tionship in the arrangement, for
those entering the Acropolis would
only have to turn to the right, and
the entrance to the circle would be
before them.
The question naturally arises as
to the purpose of this structure. As
it may be called a new antiquity,
its use is not at first apparent. 'On
uncovering the slabs, Dr. Schlie
mann thought that they might be
tombstones; on abandoning this
idea, his next guess was that the
place might have been a garden in
connection with the tombs beneath,
and there are Scriptural and other
historical references which might
be given to countenance this notion*
While I was sketching on the spot,
and thinking over its probable inten
tion, the Pnyx at Athens forced itself
into my mind. I could not say that
there was any resemblance between
the architectural features of the
structures, for the Pnyx is a won
drous specimen of excavation in the
solid rock, as well as of massive
building, while the circle of Myce
nae is constructed of very slight
slabs of stone not much over four
inches thick. The Pnyx, although
thus massive, was still only an in
closure marked off, within which
those privileged might enter and
discuss public affairs, while those
who were without could hear and
see. In these last qualifications the
two places are identical. In the
notes which I sent from Athens
with my sketches of the spot,
and which appeared in the
Illustrated London News on the
24th of March last, I suggested
the identity, and at the same time
in support of this theory referred
to the sixth book of the Odyssey,
where Nausicaa tells Ulysses the
way to follow to her father’s house,
and she describes the forum, ‘ fitted
with large stones dug out of the
earth;’ this would, no doubt, be
Cyclopean masonry, but it is de
scribed as being ‘ round the fair
�1877|
Mycence.
temple of Poseidon,’ being evi
dently a stone circle; also a de
scription in the Shield of Achilles,
where there is an assembly, and a
case of ransom money is being tried.
The litigants had friends in the
681
crowd,for they were applauding both,
and the heralds were keeping back
the people, ‘ but the elders sat upon
polished stones, in a sacred circle.'
To this might be added an al
lusion in the Iliad, at the end of
B
APPROXIMATE.
9______ 25
SCALE: OF
50_______
FEE.T f ~'
100
SKETCH-PLAN OF DR. SCHLIEMANN’S EXPLORATIONS IN THE ACROPOLIS OF MYCENjE.
a The Gate of the Lions.
b b Ancient walls of the approach.to gateway ; large stones, rudely squared.
c c c Ancient walls of the Acropolis, of rude polygonal Cyclopean masonry".
b e Inner retaining wall, old Cyclopean masonry.
f r Circular inclosure of two rows of slabs.
a Supposed entrance to circle.
■
H I J K Pits sunk by Dr. Schliemann in which the tombs were found.
Lil Excavations sunk between the circle and outer walls of the Acropolis.
M m m Walls described as Cyclopean bouses.
N n N Walls described as a * vast Cyclopean house,’ and supposed by Dr. Schliemann to be the
Royal Palace.
o Excavation in which treasure was found.
p Old aqueduct or drain.
q Portion of circle where some of the covering slates are still in situ.
k Temporary shed for the soldiers who guard the place.
s s This line indicates the limit of the excavations as far as they have been yet carried out.
T Door-keeper’s cell within the Gate of the Lions.
the eleventh book, to the ‘ forum this was circular or not, is not
and seat of justice’ which the stated.
Greeks had constructed among
A few days after this was pub
their ships, and where it states it lished, Mr. F. A. Paley, of University
was there that ‘ the altars of their College, Kensington, called atten
gods also were erected.’ Whether tion to it by a letter which appeared
�682
Mycence.
in the Times, and he pointed out a
passage in the Orestes of Euripides
(v. 919), ‘ where we read of a
countryman present at the trial of
the son of Agamemnon, and de
scribed as one “ seldom coming into
close contact with the city and the
circle of the Agora.” ’ He also
pointed out that the author of the
Greek ‘ Argument ’ expressly says
that the trial is supposed to be held
in the Acropolis of Mycense, and
Mr. Paley comes to the conclusion
that the stone circle is the Agora
of that city. The Rev. Sir George
W. Cox also sent me a note, point
ing out a passage in the (Edipus
Tyrannus of Sophocles (v. 161) de
scribing a somewhat similar place :
the words are, ‘Artemis who sits
on circular throne of Agora.’ It
may also be added that Mr. C. T.
Newton, of the British Museum, in
his paper on Mycenae to the Society
of Antiquaries, in May last, adopted
this theory, that the circle was an
Agora or public place.
It was within this circle that Dr.
Schliemann discovered the tombs
which produced such a rich harvest
of archaic treasures. If I understand
right, these tombs were partly ex
cavated in the rock, and a wall sur
rounded them on what was origin
ally the lower side of the sloping hill.
Whether the circle was constructed
as part of the tombs, or not, I have
not information enough as yet to
guide in forming a judgment, but
it will be an important question to
realise whether such was or was
not the case. It is quite possible,
as such circles were considered
to be sacred, as described in the
Shield of Achilles, and contained
temples and shrines, and were places
of justice as well as public assem
blies, that the existence of the ashes
beneath may have been understood
as adding a sanctity to the spot.
When Dr. Schliemann first an
nounced to the King of the Hel
lenes, by telegraph, that he had
discovered the tombs of Agamem
[December
non, Cassandra, Eurymedon, and
their companions, he declared that
‘ these tombs are surrounded by a
double parallel circle of tablets,
which were undoubtedly erected in
honour of these great personages.’
After this high-sounding intelli
gence to the Court at Athens, we
get a much less pretentious expla
nation; but like much that comeg
from the Doctor, it is somewhat
difficult to understand, except that
very likely the space had been converted into a garden, and the glo
rious acts of the king of kings—
Agamemnon—and his companions,
were chanted on the spot. Great
merit is attached to those who will
only listen to the story of the
Ramayana in India, and I have seen
a crowd in a bazaar eagerly listen
ing to one who read the tale aloud.
I can easily suppose if the circle
were an Agora, where the public
men were in the habit of congre
gating, that the ‘ Tale of Troy di
vine ’ would be most likely told in
such a place, where there would be
generally a crowd ready and eager
with their ears ; but if the place
were thus frequented, I should
doubt the possibility, from its size,
of preserving for it the character of
a garden.
The Forum of the Phseacians,
described by Homer as being of
drawn or dug-out stones, is supposed
to have belonged to that somewhat
indefinite style of building, so often
alluded to, that is ‘ Cyclopean,’
while the thin slabs at Mycense,
only about four inches thick, with
the remains of mortises yet visible on
their upper edges, seem to point to
a conclusion which would be not un
fair, that a wooden model had been
previously in existence. The slight
and fragmentary allusions which
have been quoted on this subject
might be rendered somewhat as fol
lows. At an early period the sacred
circle of the Forum, or Agora, was
made of large stones, understood to
be Cyclopean. In the description of
�1877]
Mycence.
the Shield of Achilles the elders
sat on the stones, and they were
polished. When the Children of
Israel crossed the Jordan (Joshua
iv.) they took up twelve stones,
and placed them as a memorial,
and the place was called Gilgal,
which means a wheel or circle. Now
these stones from the bed of the
river would be rude and ‘ polished,’
so far as water-worn stones gene
rally are. There was one stone for
each tribe, and the twelve very
beautiful marble columns in the
Dome of the Rock at Jerusalem,
existing at this day, have the tra
dition associated with them that
there is one for each of the sons of
Jacob. Not only in this case is
the typical number retained, but
the circular form is also preserved.
It might also be mentioned that
the Dome of the Holy Sepulchre,
with its supporting piers, although
belonging to a different period of
architecture, is also copied in form
and number of parts from the Dome
of the Rock, thus illustrating how
primitive forms are handed down to
US. The references from Homer, 2Esohylus, and Sophocles, make it clear
that this round form was a common
one in Greece for these public, yet
sacred, places of meeting. It is also
evident that while some were formed
with stones of a large size, it may
be safely predicated that such circles
were also constructed with wood,
otherwise it would be difficult to
explain the mortise holes in the
stone slabs of the example now
brought to light at Mycenaa.
The sacred circle as described on
the Shield of Achilles and also the
One in the capital of Alcinous are
of the earliest type, and might be
classed as Druidical; the circle at
Gilgal on the Jordan would be the
same, identical with our own circles
at home of the Rude Stone Monu
ment period. The supposed wooden
form of construction would, of
course, be later in date, and the
imitating of the wooden type in
683
stone—the same transition which
Greek architecture underwent—
would be later still. Thus far we
have relative dates only.
Between the Gate of the Lions and
the Stone Circle some walls were
discovered, but there do not
seem to have been any doors or
windows, so it is rather difficult to
make out what they could have
been. At the south-east corner
more walls were brought to light;
there are no windows ; but doors,
or openings equivalent to them,
exist. These walls Dr. Schliemann
described as ‘ a vast Cyclopean
house.’ As mentioned in a former
article (‘ The Schliemannic Ilium ’),
it was these words which first
opened up to me the Doctor’s en
thusiastic and imaginative manner
of describing his discoveries, of
which his account of Priam’s Palace
at Hissarlik is a wondrous example.
Here, again, I find that the mode by
which the Royal Palace was identi
fied was exactly the same as in the
Troad. He selected the best of a
lot of mud huts, and declared to
the world that it was the very
beautiful Palace of Priam; at My
cenae he says, ‘ This seems to have
been the Royal Palace, because no
building in a better style of architec
ture has been found yet in the
Acropolis.’ (Letter to the Times,
November 13, 1876.) That is,
about a twentieth part only of the
Acropolis has been explored, and
the best out of two structures,
which may or may not have been
houses, is declared to be the dwell
ing of Pelops. As I have had the ad
vantage of some instructions in the
matter of Cyclopean walls from
Dr. Schliemann himself, which he
addressed to me through the
columns of the Times, I thought of
letting him understand that his
teaching had not been thrown away,
by making one or two inquiries as
to the size of the stones in this
Royal Palace of the Atreidse, and
also as to the mode in which they
�684
Mycence,
have been joined together, but I
will waive this exhibition of scholar
ship. Undoubtedly this is a very
much superior palace to that of
Priam at Hissarlik, for this one at
Mycenae has solid stone walls ; still
its vastness is limited to five cham
bers, the largest of which is only
i8t> feet in its longest dimensions,
the others being much smaller ;
indeed, the Doctor himself admits
that his Royal Majesty could not
have been comfortably lodged. The
truth is, if this palace and the one
of Priam at Hissarlik have been
correctly identified, we shall have
the conclusion forced upon us that
the monarchs of that period were
in a condition of civilisation very
similar to if not lower than that of
the King of Ashantee in our own
day. Atreus and his sons may
have been in this condition, or they
may not; but this will show how
important even the identification of
a piece of wall may be, on account
of the questions it will involve, and
that snch identifications should
not be made in the slip-shod way
we have just seen was the case at
Mycenae.
The question as to who had been in
terred in the graves within the Acro
polis would no doubt present itself
to the mind of any ordinary person
as a very difficult one, and regard
ing which only surmises of the
vaguest kind could be ventured
upon. With Dr. Schliemann the
case was different, and he seems to
have had one of the easiest problems
to solve. Where other archaeolo
gists would be fettered by doubts
and uncertainty, he can show himself
to be above such trammels ; where
they would fear to tread, he rushes
in, and utters no uncertain sound.
The tombs and the treasures within
them are no sooner brought to light
than they are declared to be those
‘ of Agamemnon and his com
panions, who were all killed while
feasting at a banquet by Clytemsiestra and her lover 2Egisthus.’
[December
One might have thought that
it would have required time to
study the objects found, and com
pare them with other objects of
a similar period in the museums
of Europe before such an important
judgment was pronounced. Where
potent enthusiasm and imagination
exist, snch studious precautions, we
may suppose, are unnecessary. In the
Athenaeum of August 8, 1874, there
is a letter from Athens signed ‘ S.
Comnos,’ in which the writer ex
plains that Dr. Schliemann having
evaded the Turkish officials and
carried off the share of objects which
belonged to their Government, on
being prosecuted in the Law Courts
of Athens, ‘he invited the Athe
nians to come to his house and see
the Treasure of Priam, and he pro
mised to build for it a museum,
costing 200,000 francs, and solemnly
assured the Athenians that on his
death they should be the sole heirs
of it. As a reward for so many
sacrifices he did not demand statues
from the Athenians, but contented
himself with their friendship and
the permission to make excavations
at Mycense, where he was sure to
discover the Treasure of Agamem
non.’ Dr. Schliemann replied in a
letter, published in the Academy of
November 7, 1874, where he denies
almost everything which Comnos
states, but these pretensions that
lie would discover the Treasure of
Agamemnon, curiously enough, ar®
not contradicted. It will be noticed
that the correspondence took place
two years before the explorations at
Mycenae were begun. The conclu
sion to be deduced from this is too
palpable to require further remarks.
The whole affair might be treated
as a matter to laugh at if it were
not that the topography of Mycenae
is all being arranged to fit into the
theory that the buttons found were
those of Agamemnon. Such names
as those of Mure, Leake, Dodwell,
Prokesch, Curtius, &c., in fact all
the very best students of classic
�1877]
Mycence.
archaeology, have been declared by
Dr. Schliemann, in type, and also
before the Society of Antiquaries,
to have completely misunderstood
the monuments of Mycenae. There
is one very old structure there which
is generally called the ‘ Treasury of
Atreus,’ but it has also been named
the ‘ Tomb of Agamemnon.’ This
last name would of course endanger
the reputation of the buttons. Dr.
Schliemann claims that the tombs
he has discovered are those of
Agamemnon and his companions,
and if this monument were admitted
to be sepulchral in its character,
the probability that it might be
Agamemnon’s resting place would
be dangerous, and hence the reason
that our most standard authori
ties have to be told that they do
not understand the archaeology of
Mycenae. In the passage from
Pausanias it is stated that there are
the 1 subterranean habitations of
Atreus and his sons, in which they
deposited their treasures,’ and it
may be accepted that the large dome
Construction, which being under
ground isin keeping with the descrip
tion, is the place alluded to.
As this old authority ascribes the
character of a treasury to the monu
ment, and as it suits the Doctor’s
conclusions about what he found in
the Acropolis, he supports Pausanias,
and declares to the world that he
alone has properly interpreted that
author. The answer is easy, and it
may be broadly stated that who
ever reads Pausanias right must,
to reach this conclusion, read the
monument wrong. The evidence
in support of this is very clear and
satisfactory. In the first place we
may suppose that Pausanias only
repeated the tradition about the
building as he learned it at the time,
and it will be evident that he did
not give its character as an effort on
his part of study and deduction.
Now, all old and important tombs
had the character attached to them
of being ‘ treasure-houses.’ The
685
pyramids of Egypt were so con
sidered, and it was in hopes of find
ing this wealth that the great
pyramid of Gizeh was penetrated at
some very early date. The great
mounds of the Bin Tepe, near Sardis,
where Alyattes, the King of Lydia,
is supposed to be buried, are be
lieved to contain unheard-of treasure
which has yet to be revealed.
Josephus (Ant. vii. 15. 3) recounts
as something wonderful the im
mense wealth which was buried
with David in his tombat Jerusalem.
That old tombs of important person
ages did contain treasure, no better
illustration could be given than Dr.
Schliemann’s own excavations in
the Acropolis of Mycenae. From
this it will be seen that the circum
stance of a place being called a
treasure-house might in itself be
used in favour of the idea that it was
in reality a tomb. Another strong
piece of evidence that the safe keep
ing of wealth was not the object of
the monument under consideration,
is derived from its position.
If
Atreus, or any other king of rich
Mycenae, had ever constructed a
‘ safe ’ for their valuables, it would
have been placed within the walls
of the Acropolis, being the position
which would have guaranteed the
greatest amount of security. Now,
neither this so-called Treasury of
Atreus nor any of the other so-called
treasuries is so situated. The in
ference is evident.
On the other hand, the monu
ment can be identified with the
ancient tumulus or mound tomb,,
remains of which are to be found
all over the wide geographical
space between Ireland and China..
This particular one has been exca
vated from the side of a rising
ground, and it does not at a first
glance strike a visitor as being a
tumulus ; but the earth has been
heaped up on the top, and although
the accumulation is slight, yet it is
sufficient to indicate that those who
formed it were aware that it was a
�686
Mycence.
mound they were making. But if
any doubt could exist on the matter
it would vanish after an inspection
of the two smaller treasuries, which
before the domes fell, and the cover
ing earth along with them, must,
from their being constructed upon
level ground, have presented the ap
pearance of hemispherical mounds.
From this we see that the socalled Treasury of Atreus was
simply a chambered tumulus, dif
fering in no essential principle,
except in its having been a very
large and fine specimen of dome
construction, from chambered tu
muli in other parts of the world.
Its arrangement is the same as the
tombs at Kertch, which I visited
and made sketches of in 1855.
They may be studied in the work
published by order of the Emperor
of Russia, called Antiquites du
Bospliore Cimmerien, 1854.
In
these will be found domed cham
bers of various kinds, and, like those
at Mycenae, the stone courses of the
domes are all horizontal, and not
on the arch principle. The walled
passage on each side of the en
trance is another marked feature of
identity; the decrease in the height
of the wall, to follow the contour of
the mound, is a point of detail so
marked in these tumuli, that it is
enough in itself to determine the
character of the Mycenae example.
In the only one of the Bin Tepe at
Sardis which I entered this distinc
tive feature belonged to it. The
drawings of the Maeshow, a tumulus
as far north as Orkney, indicate the
same characteristic. The old Etrus
can tombs also present many points
of identity to those at Mycenaa.
[December
If, again, anyone who endorses
the theory that these structures
are treasuries, should be asked
to identify their arrangement
and construction with other monu
ments in Greece whose character as
treasure-houses has been estab
lished, the breakdown of the case
here becomes complete, for no such
treasuries have as yet been found
with which to make the identifica
tion. Treasuries are known to
have been connected with temples,
and are supposed to have been
within the temples themselves. In
the Parthenon at Athens, the Opisthodomus, or inner cella of the
temple, was used as a treasury. The
place where General Cesnola found,
the objects at Curium, in Cyprus, is
supposed to have been the treasury
of a temple. It is the only example
which has yet been found, but it
bears no resemblance to the socalled Treasury of Atreus. Perhaps
the Germans may bring to light the
treasuries said to have existed at
Olympia, and then there may be
something on which to found a
comparison ; at present there is no
case to come into court with.
Should the Treasury of Minyag
at Orchomenos be quoted, the
answer is simple—its construction
is exactly similar to the one at
Mycenae, hence it was a chambered
tumulus.3
I think, from what has been said,
that the assumption, let it come
from Dr. Schliemann or from
Pausanias, that these structures
were solely for the safe keeping of
wealth, and not tombs, must be re
jected. I have the high authority
of Mr. Newton on this matter,
3 The authority of Mr. Fergusson may be quoted here, as he identifies both the monu
ments referred to as tombs. Sir William Gell puts it as a tomb and an ovarium. As
the character of this particular class of monument is of considerable interest, it would be
an important question to inquire whether this traditional character of ‘ treasury ’ has
originated solely from the articles of value which were buried with the body as part of the
ritual, or if in some instances the tomb was not also used as a place for the safe keep
ing of wealth. David’s tomb has already been referred to, and in Josephus it is stated
that in a siege of Jerusalem by Simeon, Hyrcanus, who defended the city, ‘opened the
sepulchre of David, who was the richest of all kings, and took thence about three
�1877]
Mycence.
and he accepts this view of it.
He devoted a considerable por
tion of his first lecture on Mycenae,
at the Royal Institution last sum
mer, to this, as he considered, most
important part of his subject. I
cannot tell what are the ideas of
every writer on this particular
point, but I understand that Mure
Came to the conclusion that the
sepulchral theory was the right one.
A late German writer of the name
of Pyl, who has devoted consider
able attention to these so-called
treasuries all over Greece, in a work
called Vie Rundbauten der Hellenen,
has come to the conclusion that
they served the double purpose of
shrines, or sanctuaries and tombs.
I may refer to a paper read by my
self to the Royal Institute of
British Architects, in December
1873, on the architecture of China,
where a description of the Great
Mound Tombs of the Ming dynasty
will be found. As the temples and
altars attached to these mounds are
there given, and the ceremonies of
the Chinese at the tombs of their
ancestors are related, these sepul
chral rites, performed at the present
day by a race who have clung
tenaciously to ancient ideas, may
he cited as illustrating Pyl’s conclu
sions. When a Chinaman offers food
and burns incense at a mound where
his father’s or any of his ancestors’
remains are interred, he converts
the tomb into a temple. The chorus
in. the Clioephori of AEschylus tell
Electra that she must reverence
the tomb of her sire as if it were an
altar. She poured out a drink
offering and offered a prayer along
with it. We have, according to
687
Plutarch, authority for the state
ment that Alexander the Great, on
his visit to the tomb of Achilles,
repeated the rites which Achilles
had celebrated at the death of
Patroclus. Illustrations without
number could be given from the
poets that tombs were shrines at
which ceremonies were performed ;
and this is important, as it may ex
plain why the so-called Treasury of
Atreus was so very elaborately em
bellished. Had it been a place of
security, strength would have been
the first object, and ornament
would have been unnecessary.
Safety, as has been explained, was
not of primary importance, or it
would not have been placed outside
the walls of the Acropolis ; but as
the tomb of some very great person,
where ceremonies were performed,
its costly decoration becomes under
stood.
The plan and section on p. 688 will
give an idea of this old monument;
the great dome is about 48 feet
in diameter, and 50 feet high. This
large and well-built hall is sup
posed to have been originally co
vered with bronze plates, the holes
for the nails or pins for fastening
the plates still being visible. The
courses of stone are horizontal, and
not on the principle of the arch.
There is, on the north side, an inner
chamber, about 23 feet square,
which may have been originally a
cave; or if excavated, it has been
very rudely done. This, no doubt,
would be the Sepulchral Chamber,
while the larger apartment would
be used for the ceremonies usually
performed in honour of the illus
trious dead. The doorway of this
thousand talents in money’ (Wars 1. 2. 5 ; Ant. vii. 15. 3). This use of a tomb, if not
apocryphal, I should fancy to be all but an exception, and that the reputation for treasure
was a tradition founded on the gold buried with the dead; but if it really occurred in
Jerusalem, it might have been- the case in other parts as well, and the subject is worthy
of consideration by archaeologists. The decision on this will not affect the case as applied
qo Dr. Schliemann’s exclusive claims, that no other tombs have yet been found in Mycenae
but those he has lately brought to light. Tombs as well as other buildings are often
changed from their original purpose, but such secondary uses do not belong to our
subject.
. .
�688
Mycence.
[December
building is covered with two stones restoration I felt inclined to have
in the form of lintels, the inner doubts, but the fact that Professor
one ‘being a very large mass. It Donaldson had made doors a special
is 27 feet long, 18 feet wide, and study, particularly those of the
3 feet 6 inches deep, and has been Greek styles, caused me to read care
calculated to weigh 133 tons. The fully what he had to say, and take
note of the grounds upon which he
wrought out his idea of the place,
and I feel bound to declare that,
although one may hesitate as to
some points of the details, yet a good
case has been made out. I would
advise anyone wishing to realise
what this so-called treasury was like
originally, to inspect these draw
ings.4 Such a gateway was not
made to be covered up ; and thig
confirms the theory that the splen
did bronze-plated hall could be
entered, and was used for the per
formance of sepulchral rites. On
the occasion of my visit last March,
one of the guides said that his father
remembered some steps at the
eastern extremity of the long pas
sage, which led up to it from
what was supposed to have been
the principal street of Mycense,
which passed at the end. These
steps are in themselves strongly
conclusive in favour of the idea
VLAN AND SECTION OF THE SO-CALLED
that the place was intended to be
TREASURY OF ATREUS, MYCENJE. J
approached.
A Domed Chamber.
b Inner Rock-cut Chamber.
The Second Treasury, excavated
c Doorway.
D Approach.
by Madame Schliemann, is only a
b Entrance to inner Rock-cut Chamber.
foot or two smaller than the one
f Accumulation of earth in the approach.
associated with the name of Atreus.
outside of this doorway is supposed It is close to, but still outside, the
to have been faced with marbles, walls of the Acropolis; hence its
which were ornamented with cir purpose did not require the protec
cular discs, spirals, zigzags, and tion of such an inclosure. Slabs
part of a pilaster. Four fragments of coloured marble were found or
of these are in the Elgin Room of namented with the usual spirals
the British Museum, almost the only and circles ; but Dr. Schliemann
relics this country ever received gives it as his opinion that the in
from Mycenae. Professor Donald terior was not covered with metal.
son made a restoration of the en If I understand right, no second
trance, and published it over forty chamber was found. The great
years ago. On first looking at this value of the Third and Fourth Trea
4 Antiquities of Athens and other Places in Greece, Sicily, $c., supplementary to the
Antiquities of Athens by James Stuart, F.R.S. F.S.A., and Nicholas Revett. Delineated
and Illustrated by C. R. Cockerell, A.R.A. F.S.A.; W. Kinnard, T. L. Donaldson, W.
Jenkins, and W. Railton, Architects. 1830.
�689
Mycence.
1877]
suries is on account of their throw
ing light on the two larger ones.
From their rude construction they
are evidently the earlier productions,
and give us the more primary type
of these structures; and as they
are not excavations into a hill side,
they must have been visible tumuli.
This is most important to bear in
mind, for the word ‘ subterranean,’
as applied to the so-called Treasury
of Atreus, is misleading. That
these monuments are all of ODe
intention is evidently conveyed by
the name of ‘ treasury ’ which has
been attached to them all; the vil
lagers also acknowledge the iden
tification by classifying them under
SKETCH AND SKETCH-PLAN OF THIRD TREASURY.
the word ‘ furni,’ or ‘ ovens,’ from
their resemblance to those in use
at the present day, and which may
be seen in every village.
Anyone approaching these two
smaller treasuries for the first time
would most likely suppose that he
had come upon a Druidical con
struction, and that they were dolVOL. XVI.—NO. XCVI.
NEW SERIES.
mens. All that is now visible is
the covered passage, which is com
posed of large flat stones, seemingly
rough enough to be declared of the
Rude Stone Monument class. In
the Third Treasury, of which a rough
sketch is given, as well as a sketch
plan, there are three covering
stones, or lintels, the largest of
3 c
�690
Mycence.
which are 13 feet and 11 feet in
length. In the Fourth Treasury the
largest stone is 12 feet. This last
is a very rude piece of work, and
none of the masonry of the dome
is now to be seen; in the Third a
few stones can yet be inspected by
clearing away the weeds and grass.
In the sketch-plan it will be noticed
that the inner lintel stone has been
shaped into the curve of the circle
forming the dome. Another important point to notice is, that the
walls of the passage slope inwards.
The doors of the old Etruscan
tombs have all more or less of
this character. The door of the
so-called Treasury of Atreus also
presents this slope, whilst th e Second
Treasury is perpendicular, or nearly
so. This peculiarity inclines me to
the belief that it is the most mo
dern of them all. It presents other
details which I think tend to the
same conclusion, but this particular
deviation from what is evidently
the primary form is the most pal
pable to my mind.
There is one most important fact
revealed from the few remains at
Mycenae ; and that is, that there
existed in Greece a style of architec
ture which was entirely different
from what we now know as the
Greek. Classic architecture, as we
understand it, is not only a different
style, but the two must have sprung
from totally distinct origins. Start
ing from different sources, they also
kept separate in their history. No
caste distinction presents us with
such persistent determination not to
intermarry as we find in these two
styles of building. Greek archi
tecture can be clearly traced back
to a mode of construction where
wood was the material; in the mar
ble of the temples which have come
down to us we can yet trace every
detail of the original wooden forms.
In the Pelasgic, as the sup
posed earlier style has been called,
this influence does not appear—-it
commenced and has been continued
with stone as the material. Most
[December
probably it began with rude stones,
and developed into what we now
call Cyclopean. When a space, such
as a door, had to be covei’ed over,
then large blocks had to be used,
such as have been described at
Mycenae; and constructing the por.
tals of tumuli was most probably
the object which developed this
style for the Gate of the Lions is
only a copy, differing but slightly in
detail, from that of the Treasuries.
In the Third and Fourth Treasuries
we see an early condition of this
Pelasgic style, and in Professor
Donaldson’s restoration of the socalled Treasury of Atreus we find
what must be something like a fair
representation of its highest develop
ment. It would bring the origin of
Greek classic architecture too late
to suppose that it only began when
the other ceased. There is nothing
against the idea that the two styles
may have been both carried on at
the same time. We have a perfectly
analogous case in the pyramids and
temples of Egypt, two totally dif.
ferent kinds of buildings, so different
that unity of origin is an impossibility, and the sources of which
still remain among the problems to
be solved by Egyptology. In the
ancient Buddhist architecture of
India again a similar duality of style
can be pointed out, but in this case
something can be said by way of
elucidation. In the Buddhist period
we know that the Dagop and the
Chaitya temple were synchronous.
The Chaitya was originally a
wooden building ; and it is agreed
among arch geologists that the
Dagopa is a development of the
Cairn, and that the Cairn grew
out of the Mound, and thus, so
far, we get a principle of progres
sion which may yet be applied in
some way to the Pyramid and the
Domed Tumuli of the Pelasgic race.
The probability is that a religious
and an ethnic influence underlie
the whole of the illustrations which
have just been given.
I can say little about the objects
�187ZJ
Mycenae.
found by Dr. Schliemann at Mycenae.
There were only a few of the more
valuable articles exhibited in the
Bank at Athens when I chanced to
be there. The pottery is declared
by Mr. Newton to belong to the
oldest class which has been yet
identified as Greek. Mr. Newton’s
classification of it with the early
Specimens from Ialysos in Rhodes
is an important link, and an ad
vance so far in positive knowledge.
His identification, with the help of
Professor Owen, of one of the orna
ments, as having been derived from
the octopus, is a most valuable
addition to the history of orna
mental art.
I add a sketch al
though it is rough and only from
cow’s HEAD, SILVER,
WITH GOLDEN HORNS.
memory, of the silver cow or ox
head with golden horns, on which
Dr. Schliemann bases his theory
that the word floanrig should be
read ‘ ox-headed ’ instead of ‘ oxeyed,’ just as he formerly proposed
to read yXavKurn-ic, ‘owl-faced,’
rather than ‘ blue-eyed ’ as Athene
has generally been designated. The
philological question is not one on
which I can give an opinion, but I
should not be inclined to reject the
idea that on the stage the daughter
of Inachus might have worn such a
mask, particularly as she asks
Prometheus if he ‘ hears the voice
of the ox-horned maiden.’ (Prom.
V. 988.) Something might be said
in favour of the golden cups belong
ing to Agamemnon, from the evi
dence in the Iliad that he certainly
691
was not a Good Templar. Achilles
in a very straightforward manner
called him a ‘wine-bibber,’ and the
king of men himself says, in
addressing Idomeneus, who com
manded the Cretans, that the other
Greeks drink by certain measures,
but ‘ thy cup always stands before
thee full, like mine, that you may
drink when in your mind it is de
sirable.’ Here a habit is indicated
not unknown in our own days, and it
might suggest an explanation as to
how such a valiant man was so easily
overcome by his murderers. The
study of all the objects found at
Mycenae will be the labour of years.
Whoever has heard Mr. Newton’s
lectures upon them, or read his long
letter which appeared in the Times of
April 20 last, will see how valuable
and important they are to archaeology.
In one sense it matters not to whom
they belong. They are additions to
our knowledge of the early condi
tion of art, and of art amongst a
people who developed a sense of the
beautiful which stands out unrival
led in the history of the world.
Still the question of whose tomb,
or tombs, has been discovered is no
light one. It is of deep import to the
historian, to the student of classic
literature, and it is also of very
great importance as bearing on
questions of comparative mythology.
Already Dr. Schliemann’s disco
veries have been used as authori
tative on this subject; and when I
ventured on a former occasion in
the pages of this magazine to expose
the baseless foundation on which
the identity of the Homeric Ilium
was founded, I considered that I
was discharging a duty to those
who were interested in that new
and important science. In the
present case, by showing that the
so-called Treasuries at Mycenae are
tombs, and that the larger monu
ments must have been very impor
tant tombs, the distinctive cha
racter which Dr. Schliemann has
attempted to give to those he dis3 c 2
�692
■Mycence
covered in the Acropolis falls to
the ground; and the evidence, even
supposing it were conclusive, that
he has found the bones and funeral
objects of the great leader of the
Argives, loses all its force, and the
buttons, swords, sceptres &c. are
thus left for the present without
any recognised owner. To say that
these objects did, or that they did
not, belong to Agamemnon, requires
the enthusiasm or the ecstasy of a
Schliemann to declare.
As a very curious document, I
propose to give the telegram which
Dr. Schliemann sent to the King of
the Hellenes announcing his dis
covery : it was dated
Mycente: Ahumier 28, 1876.
With unbounded joy I announce to your
Majesty that I have discovered the monu
ments which tradition, as related by
Pausanias, points out as the tombs of
Agamemnon, Cassandra, Eurymedon, and
their companions, who were all killed whilst
feasting at a banquet by Clytemnestra and
her lover, JEgisthus. These tombs are
surrounded by a double circle of tablets,
which were undoubtedly erected in honour
of those great personages. In these tombs
I have found an immense archseological
treasure of various articles of pure gold.
This treasure is alone sufficient to fill a
large museum, which will be the most
splendid in the world, and which in all
succeeding ages will attract to Greece thou
sands of strangers from every land. As I
am labouring from a pure and simple love
for science, I waive all claim to this trea
sure, which I offer with intense enthusiasm
to Greece. Sire, may those treasures,
with God’s blessing, form the corner-stone
of immense national wealth.
[December
Athens, and not to Dr. Schliemann ;
but as he had been applying for
such a right, the Archaeological
Society engaged him to carry on
the explorations under the inspec
tion of M. Stamataki, one of their
body, and who was to receive
the objects as they were disco
vered during the excavations. A
small detachment of soldiers was
sent to keep guard over the whole
operations, and when I went there
in March last, these guards were
still doing duty, and it was lucky
that I had a letter from the
Minister of the Interior, or I might
have had trouble to get on with my
sketching. According to a report
published by the Archeological
Society, they spent 4,000 drachmas,
on their part, while Dr. Schlie,
mann expended 30,000 drachmas.
3,300 objects were found, and
12,000 fragments of pottery.
I will only deal now with one of
this vast collection of objects, and
it is a good illustration of these
mythical finds, namely, Agamemnon’s sceptre. I have since seen
the thing itself, and the theory that
it was a sceptre, I must say, would
be the most probable suggestion
that could be made about it; yet to
find out whose hand swayed it is
not such an easy problem. In th®
second book of the IZmd its his
tory will be found; according to
Homer it was made by Vulcan.
Now, if Dr. Schliemann has really
found a bit of work done by that
divine artist, it would be the most
precious morsel of art in the world.
According to Homer, Hephcesto®
laboriously made the sceptre for
Jove, Jove gave it to the ‘ Slayer of
Argus,’ or Hermes, from whom Pe
lops received it, and from him, it
came down through Atreus and
Thyestes to Agamemnon. We get
the continuation of the history in
Pausanias, book ix. chap. 40 :
Dr. Schliemann’s efforts to give
away his Trojan collection will be a
very remarkable history when once
it is written out in all its details,
and this giving away of the
My ceria; treasure has also got its
remarkable characteristics. No one
would suppose from the above
telegram that the Greek Government
had already got the treasure, andheld
it in virtue of an agreement. The
right to excavate at Mycense was
This sceptre, too, they
given, if I am rightly informed, spear • and, indeed, that it denominate the
contains some
to the Archseological Society of thing of a nature more divine than wualj :
�1877]
Mycence.
is evident from hence, that a certain
splendour is seen proceeding from it. The
Chaeroneans say that this sceptre was found
on the borders of the Panopeans, in Phocis,
and together with it a quantity of gold;
and that they cheerfully took the sceptre
instead of the gold. I am persuaded that
it was brought by Electra, the daughter of
Agamemnon, to Phocis. There is not, how
ever, any temple publicly raised for this
sceptre; but every year the person to
whose care this sacred sceptre is committed
places it in a building destined to this
purpose; and the people sacrifice to it
every day, and place near it a table full of
all kinds of flesh and sweetmeats.
The author, no doubt, here gives the
tradition as it was current when h e
wrote ; as Pausanias has to be called
in evidence in relation to his state
ments about the Treasury of Atreus,
it is rather awkward that he can be
quoted also in favour of the theory
that the sceptre was not buried
along with Agamemnon, and that
the Peloponnesus was not the region
in which it was to be found. Tra
dition is Dr. Schliemann’s strong
evidence that he had found the
tomb of Agamemnon. In my former
article on the Troad I gave some
illustrations of the value of such
means of identification, and here
again we find the same conditions.
If tradition, when given by a
Pausanias, is considered as proof,
693
then let anyone refer to .book iii.
chap. 19 of that author, and he
will find that there was a tradi
tional tomb of Agamemnon at
Amyclse, in Sparta. In adopting
tradition as an authority—and it is
the only evidence Dr. Schliemann
has been able to give as to Aga
memnon’s tomb—it is clear that he
did not consider the difficulties and
even absurdities which such a line
of argument might lead to. It is a
long time now in history since tra
ditional tombs have raised a smile
at their mention. If our great ex
plorer believes in such monuments
of the past, let him go to Jeddah, on
the Red Sea, and excavate the tradi
tional tomb of Eve, which is 60 feet
long; or to Abila, near Damascus,
where he will find the tomb of her
son Abel, which is 90 feet long. We
may return to Greece, where, ac
cording to Herodotus (i. 68, also
Pausan. iii. 3. 11), the coffin of
Orestes was found at Tegea, seven
cubits long, and ‘ the body was
equal to the coffin in length.’
Here is the traditional size of the
son of Agamemnon. Has the Doc
tor found the bones of a father
worthy of such a son ?
William Simpson.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Mycenae (from personal investigation)
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Simpson, William
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [s.l.]
Collation: 675-693 p. : ill. (maps, plans) ; 22 cm.
Notes: From Fraser's Magazine, December 1877. Vol. XVI. No. XCVI. Includes bibliographical references. Printed in double columns. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
[s.n.]
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
CT59
Subject
The topic of the resource
Archaeology
Greece
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Mycenae (from personal investigation)), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Conway Tracts
Greece-History
Mycenae
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/640643f7d774dbcfa916c2b376aa07ca.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=GxGuyOe-YhVFRQiRV0fCYS%7ErkGuU498yAvEzQ0EmKKWKxd7qmEcR9Lu6pqhn5CGrQ4r4PtU09T7p7CXRxAIJFznwT0xAMKyiyMW%7EsAKtA0w-GY51F-rN%7EeIiacZAGOc3oGV2Jcgj2TV59pdbuii23kMhqXI6WaFUudpy%7EMwseU1-0H0jiDoNWAEUvRAq3jus%7E6i7P6KwNelHbvwiVTXDNANO%7EQwj61DF%7ExwIVKJSjSD160MxG4pHwQdwu6pLXrtKP7qzvIiMg3clF041TvXQjD-wSDouqQ47Uezp3eupbx0mcnoanGDoGRoT5T57%7E7ztWgY63zWsJAGvZozvZ2SDhQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
d9a860d52f6066596b11f40639a7cc17
PDF Text
Text
NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY
THE
BEARING
ON
OF
MORALS
RELIGION.
$ Tnta
DELIVERED BEFORE THE
SUNDAY
LECTURE
SOCIETY,
ST. GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
ON
.SUNDAY AFTERNOON, 4th 'MARCH, 1877.
BY
Professor W. K. CLIFFORD, F.R.S.
Reprinted from the ‘ Fortnightly Review,' by kind permission of the Editor.
LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY THE SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
1877.
Price Threepence.
��THE BEARING OF MORALS
ON RELIGION.
HE word religion is used in many different mea^
ings and there have been not a few- controversy
the main difference between the contending
parties was only this, that they understood by religion
two different things. I will therefore begin by settog
forth as clearly aB I can one or two of the mea g
which the word appears to have in P°Pa y SP
Kr8t’ Sse “TyheX“tha o^e°Vh“ehgion ■”
“?nTisPseX’ce5‘ The religion of Buddha teaches that
the soul is not a distinct substance.
Opinions differ
upon the question what doctrines may properly be callei
religious ^some people holding that there can be no r^
ligion without belief in a god and in a future life jso^ hat
n their judgment the body of doctrines must necessarily
include these two : while others would insist upon other
special dogmas being included, before they could consent
to call thelystem by this name. But the number of such
Deonle is daily diminishing, by reason of. the spread an
thePincrease of our knowledge about distant countries
and races. To me, indeed, it would seem rash to asse
of any doctrine or its contrary that it might not for
part of a religion. But, fortunately, it is not necessary
to any part of the discussion on which I propose to ente ,
that this question should be settled.
.
Secondly, religion may mean a ceremonial or cuLt, m
volving an organized priesthood and a machinery of
T
�6
The Bearing of Morals
sacred things and places. In this sense we speak of the
clergy as ministers of religion, or of a state as tolerating
the practice of certain religions. There is a somewhat
wider meaning which it will be convenient to consider
together with this one, and as a mere extension of it,
namely, that in which religion stands for the influence of
a certain priesthood. A religion is sometimes said to
have been successful when it has got its priests into
power; thus some writers speak of the wonderfully rapid
success of Christianity. A nation is said to have em
braced a religion when the authorities of that nation have
granted privileges to the clergy, have made them as far
as possible the leaders of society, and have given them a
considerable share in the management of public affairs.
So the northern nations of Europe are said to have em
braced the Catholic religion at an early date. The rea
son why it seems to me convenient to take these two
meanings together is, that they are both related to the
priesthood. Although the priesthood itself is not called
religion, so far as I know, yet the word is used for the
general influence and professional acts of the priest
hood.
Thirdly, religion may mean a body of precepts or code
of rules, intended to guide human conduct, as in this
sentence of the authorised version of the New Testa
ment : “ Pure religion and undefiled before God and the
Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their
affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”
(James i. 27). It is sometimes difficult to draw the line
bet ween this meaning and the last, for it is a mark of the
great majority of religions that they confound ceremonial
observances with duties having real moral obligation.
Thus in the Jewish decalogue the command to do no
work on Saturdays is found side by side with the prohi
bition of murder and theft. It might seem to be the
more correct as well as the more philosophical course to
follow in this matter the distinction made by Butler be
tween moral and positive commands, and to class all those
�.on Religion.
7
precepts which are not of universal moral obligation
under the head of ceremonial. And, in fact, when we
come to examine the matter from the point of view of
morality, the distinction is of course of the utmost im
portance. But from the point of view of religion there
are difficulties in making it. ' In the first place, the dis
tinction is not made, or is not understood, by religious
folk in general. Innumerable tracts and pretty stories
impress upon us that Sabbath-breaking is rather worse
than stealing, and leads naturally on to materialism and
murder. Less than a hundred years ago sacrilege was
punishable by burning in France, and murder by simple
decapitation. In the next place, ifwe pick out a religion
at haphazard, we shall find that it is not at all easy to
divide its precepts into those which are really of moral
obligation and those which are indifferent and of a cere
monial character. We may find precepts unconnected
with any ceremonial, and yet positively immoral; and
ceremonials may be immoral in themselves, or construc
tively immoral, on account of their known symbolism.
On the whole, it seems to me most convenient to draw
the plain and obvious distinction between those actions
which a religion prescribes to all its followers, whether
the actions are ceremonial or not, and those which are
prescribed only as professional actions of a sacerdotal
-class. The latter will come under what I have called the
second meaning of religion, the professional acts and the
influence of a priesthood. In the third meaning will be
included all that practically guides the life of a layman,
in so far as this guidance is supplied to him by his re
ligion.
..
Fourthly, and lastly, there is a meaning of the word.
religion which has been coming more and more promi
nently forward of late years, till it has even threatened
to supersede all the others. Religion has been defined
as morality touched with emotion. I will not here adopt
this definition, because I wish to deal with the concrete
in the first place, and only to pass on to the abstract m
�8
The Bearing of Morals
so far as that previous study appears to lead to it. I
wish to consider the facts of religion as we find them,,
and not ideal possibilities. “ Yes, but,” every one will
say, “ if you mean my own religion, it is already, as a
matter of fact, morality touched with emotion. It is thehighest morality touched with the purest emotion, an
emotion directed towards the most worthy of objects.”
Unfortunately we do not mean your religion alone, but
all manner of heresies and heathenisms along with it:
the religions of the Thug, of the Jesuit, of the South Sea
cannibal, of Confucius, of the poor Indian with his un
tutored mind, of the Peculiar People, of the Mormons,
and of the old cat-worshipping Egyptian. It must be
clear that we shall restrict ourselves to a very narrow
circle of what are commonly called religious facts, unless
we include in our considerations not only morality
touched with emotion, but also immorality touched with
emotion. In fact, what is really touched with emotion
in any case is that body of precepts for the guidance of a
layman’s life which we have taken to be the third mean
ing of religion. In that collection of precepts there may
be some agreeable to morality, and some repugnant to it,
and some indifferent, but being all enjoined by the reli
gion they will all be touched by the same religious emo
tion. Shall we then say that religion means a feeling,
an emotion, an habitual attitude of mind towards some
object or objects, or towards life in general, which has a
bearing upon the way in which men regard the rules of
conduct ? I think the last phrase should be left out.
An habitual attitude of mind, of a religious character,
does always have some bearing upon the way in which
men regard the rules of conduct; but it seems sometimes
as if this were an accident, and not the essence of the
religious feeling. Some devout people prefer to have
their devotion pure and simple, without admixture of any
such application—they do not want to listen to “cauld
morality.” And it seems as if the religious feeling of the
Greeks, and partly also of our own ancestors, was so far
�on Religion.
9
divorced from morality that it affected it only, as it were,
by a side-wind, through the influence of the character
and example of the gods. So that it. seems only likely
to create confusion if we mix up morality with this fourth
meaning of religion. Sometimes religion means a code
of precepts, and sometimes it means a devotional habit ot
mind ; the two things are sometimes connected, but also
they are sometimes quite distinct. But that the connec
tion of these two things is more and more insisted on,
that it is the key-note of the apparent revival of religion
which has taken place in this century, is a very significant
fact, about which there is more to be said.
As to the nature of this devotional habit of mind, there
are no doubt many who would like a closer definition.
But I am not at all prepared to say what attitude of mind
may properly be called religious, and what may not.
Some will hold that religion must have a person for its
object; but Buddha was filled with religious feeling, and
yet he had no personal object. Spinoza,.the god-intoxi
cated man, had no personal object for his devotion. It
might be possible to frame a definition which would
fairly include all cases, but it would require the expendi
ture of vast ingenuity and research, and would not,
I am inclined to think, be of much use when it was ob
tained.
Nor is the difficulty to be got over by taking any de
finite and well-organized sect, whose principles are settled
in black and white ; for example, the Boman Catholic
Church, whose seamless unity has just been exhibited
and protected by an (Ecumenical Council. Shall we
listen to Mr. Mivart, who “ execrates without reserve
Marian persecutions, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew,
and all similar acts ?” or to the editor of the Dublin
Review, who thinks that a teacher of false doctrines
should be visited by the law with just that amount of
severity which the public sentiment willj. bear ?Eor
assuredly common-sense morality will passjvery different
judgments on these two distinct religions, although it
�IO
The Bearing of Morals
appears that experts have found room for both of them'
within the limits of the Vatican definitions.
Moreover, there is very great good to be got by widen
ing our view of what may be contained in religion. If
we go to a man and propose to test his own religion by
the canons of common-sense morality, he will be, most
likely, offended, for he will say that his religion is far too
sublime and exalted to be affected by considerations of
that sort. But he will have no such objection in the case
of other people’s religion. And when he has found that
in the name of religion other people, in other circum
stances, have believed in doctrines that were false, have
supported priesthoods that were social evils, have taken
wrong for right, and have even poisoned the very sources
of morality, he may be tempted to ask himself, “Is there
no trace of any of these evils in my own religion, or at
least in my own conception and practice of it ?” And
that is just what we want him to do. Bring your doc
trines, your priesthoods, your precepts, yea, even the
inner devotion of your soul, before the tribunal of con
science ; she is no man’s and no god’s vicar, but the
supreme judge of men and gods.
Let us inquire, then, what morality has to say in re
gard to religious doctrines. It deals with the manner
of religious belief directly, and with the matter indirectly.
Religious beliefs must be founded on evidence; if they
are not so founded, it is wrong to hold them. The rule
of right conduct in this matter is exactly the opposite of
that implied in the t^vo famous texts : “ He that believeth
not shall be damned,” and “ Blessed are they that have
not seen and yet have believed.” For a man who clearly
felt and recognised the duty of intellectual honesty, of
carefully testing every belief before he received it, and
especially before he recommended it to others, it would
be impossible to ascribe the profoundly immoral teaching
of these texts to a true prophet or worthy leader of
humanity. It will comfort those who wish to preserve
their reverence for the character of a great teacher to-
�on Religion.
11
remember that one of these sayings is in the well-known
forged passage at the end of the second gospel, and that
the other occurs only in the late and legendary fourth
gospel; both being described as spoken under utterly
impossible circumstances. These precepts belong to the
Church and not to the Gospel. But whoever wrote either
of them down as a deliverance of one whom he supposed
to be a divine teacher, has thereby written down himself
as a man void of intellectual honesty, as a man whose
word cannot be trusted, as a man who would accept and
spread about any kind of baseless fiction for fear of be
lieving too little.
So far as to the manner of religious belief. Let us
now inquire what bearing morality has upon its matter.
We may see at once that this can only be indirect; for
the rightness or wrongness of belief in a doctrine de
pends only upon the nature of the evidence for it, and
not upon what the doctrine is. But there is a very im
portant way in which religious doctrine may lead to
morality or immorality, and in which, therefore, morality
has a bearing upon doctrine. It is when that doctrine
declares the character and actions of the gods who are
regarded as objects of reverence and worship. If a god
is represented as doing that which is clearly wrong, and
is still held up to the reverence of men, they will be
tempted to think that in doing this wrong thing they
are not so very wrong after all, but are only following
an example which all men respect. So says Plato : —
*
“We must not tell a youthful listener that he ■will be doing
nothing extraordinary if he commit the foulest crimes, nor yet if
he chastise the crimes of a father in the most unscrupulous man
ner, but will simply be doing what the first and greatest of the
gods have done before him. ...
“ Nor yet is it proper to say in any case—what is indeed untrue
—that gods wage war against gods, and intrigue and fight among
themselves ; that is, if the future guardians of our state are to
deem it a most disgraceful thing to quarrel lightly with one
another: far less ought we to select as subjects for fiction and
Rep. ii. 378. Tr. Davies and Vaughan.
�12
The Bearing of Morals
embroidery, the battles of the giants, and numerous other feuds of
all sorts, in which gods and heroes fight against their own kith
and kin. But if there is any possibility of persuading them, that
to quarrel with one’s fellow is a sin of which no member of a state
was ever guilty, such ought rather to be the language held to our
children from the first, by old men and old women, and all elderly
persons; and such is the strain in which our poets must be com
pelled to write. But stories like the chaining of Here by her son,
and the flinging of Hephaistos out of heaven for trying to take his
mother’s part when his father was beating her, and all those battles
of the gods which are to be found in Homer, must be refused ad
mittance into our state, whether they be allegorical or not. For
a child cannot discriminate between what is allegory and what is
not; and whatever at that age is adopted as a matter of belief,
has a tendency to become fixed and indelible, and therefore, per
haps, we ought to esteem it of the greatest importance that the
fictions which children first hear should be adapted in the most
perfect manner to the promotion of virtue. ”
And Seneca says the same thing, with still more rea
son in his day and country : “ What else is this appeal
to the precedent of the gods for, but to inflame our lusts,
and to furnish licence and excuse for the corrupt act
under the divine protection ?” And again, of the cha
racter of Jupiter as described in the popular legends :
“ This has led to no other result than to deprive sin of
its shame in man’s eyes, by showing him the god no
better than himself.” In Imperial Rome, the sink of all
nations, it was not uncommon to find “ the intending
sinner addressing to the deified vice which he contem
plated a prayer for the success of his design ; the adul
teress imploring of Venus the favours of her paramour ;
.
. the thief praying to Hermes Dolios for aid in
his enterprise, or offering up to him the first-fruits of
his plunder;
youths entreating Hercules to
expedite the death of a rich uncle.”*
When we reflect that criminal deities were worshipped
all over the empire, we cannot but wonder that any good
people were left; that man could still be holy, although
every god was vile. Yet this was undoubtedly the case;
* North British Review, 1867, p. 284.
�cn Religion.
ij
the social forces worked steadily on wherever there was
peace and a settled government and municipal freedom ;
and the wicked stories of theologians were somehow ex
plained away and disregarded. If men were no better
than their religions, the world would be a hell indeed.
It is very important, however, to consider what really
ought to be done in the case of stories like these. When
the poet sings that Zeus kicked Hephaistos out of heaven
for trying to help his mother, Plato says that this fiction
must be suppressed by law. We cannot follow him
there, for since his time we have had too much of trying
to suppress false doctrines by law. Plato thinks it quite
obviously clear that God cannot produce evil, and he
would stop everybody’s mouth who ventured to say that
he can. But in regard to the doctrine itself, we can
only ask, “ Is it true ?”
And that is a question
to be settled by evidence. Did Zeus commit this
crime, or did he not ? We must ask the apologists, the
reconcilers of religion and science, what evidence they
can produce to prove that Zeus kicked Hephaistos out
of heaven. That a doctrine may lead to immoral conse
quences is no reason for disbelieving it. But whether'
the doctrine were true or false, one thing does clearly
follow from its moral character: namely this, that if
Zeus behaved as he is said to have behaved he ought not'
to be worshipped. To those who complain of his violence
and injustice, it is no answer to say that the divine attri
butes are far above human comprehension, that the wavs
of Zeus are not our ways, neither are his thoughts our
thoughts. If he is to be worshipped, he must do some
thing vaster and nobler and greater than good men do,
but it must be like what they do in its goodness. His
actions must not be merely a magnified copy of what bad
men do. So soon as they are thus represented, morality
has something to say. Not indeed about the fact; for
it is not conscience, but reason, that has to judge matters
of fact; but about the worship of a character so repre
sented. If there really is good evidence that Zeus kicked
�14
The Bearing of Morals
Hephaistos out of heaven, and seduced Alkmene by a
mean trick, say so by all means ; but say also that it is
wrong to salute his priests or to make offerings in his
temple.
When men do their duty in this respect, morality has
a very carious indirect effect on the religious doctrine
itself. As soon as the offerings become less frequent, the
evidence for the doctrine begins to fade away; the pro
cess of theological interpretation gradually brings out
the true inner meaning of it, that Zeus did not kick
Hephaistos out of heaven, and did not seduce Alk
mene.
Is this a merely theoretical discussion about far-away
things ? Let us come back for a moment to our own
time and country, and think whether there can be any
lesson for us in this refusal of common-sense morality to
worship a deity whose actions are a magnified copy of
what bad men do. There are three doctrines which find
very wide acceptance among our countrymen at the pre
sent day: the doctrines of original sin,vof a vicarious
sacrifice, and of eternal punishments. We are not con
cerned with any refined evaporations of these doctrines
which are exhaled by courtly theologians, but with the
naked statements which are put into the minds of chil
dren and of ignorant people, which are taught broadcast
and without shame in denominational schools. Father
Faber, good soul, persuaded himself that after all only a
very few people would be really damned, and Father
Oxenham gives one the impression that it will not hurt
even them very much. But one learns the practical
teaching of the Church from such books as “A Glimpse
of Hell,” where a child is described as thrown between
the bars upon the burning coals, there to writhe for
ever. The masses do not get the elegant emasculations
of Father Faber and Father Oxenham ; they get “ a
Glimpse of Hell.”
Now to condemn all mankind for the sin of Adam and
Eve; to let the innocent suffer for the guilty;, to keep
�on Religion.
15
any one alive in torture for ever and ever : these actions
are simply magnified copies of what bad men do. No
juggling with “ divine justice and mercy” can make them
anything else. This must be said to all kinds and con
ditions of men : that if God holds all mankind guilty for
the sin of Adam, if he has visited upon the innocent the
punishment of the guilty, if he is to torture any single
soul for ever, then it is wrong to worship him.
But there is something to be said also to those who
think that religious beliefs are not indeed true, but are
useful for the masses ; who deprecate any open and public
argument against them, and think that all sceptical books
should be published at a high price ; who go to church,
not because they approve of it themselves, but to set an
example to the servants. Let us ask them to ponder the
words of Plato, who, like them, thought that all these
tales of the gods were fables, but still fables which might
be useful to amuse children with : “T7e ought to esteem vt
of the greatest importance that the fictions which children
first hear should be adapted in the most perfect manner to
the. promotion of virtue.” If we grant to you that it is
good for poor people and children to believe some of these
fictions, is it not better, at least, that they should believe
those which are adapted to the promotion of virtue ?
Now the stories which you send your servants and chil
dren to hear are adapted to the promotion of vice. So
far as the remedy is in your own hands, you are bound
to apply it; stop your voluntary subscriptions and the
moral support of your presence from any place where the
criminal doctrines are taught. ¥ou will find more men
and better men to preach that which is agreeable to their
conscience, than to thunder out doctrines under which
their minds are always uneasy, and which only a con
tinual self-deception can keep them from feeling to be
wicked'.
Let us now go on to inquire what morality has to say
in the matter of religious ministrations, the official acts
and the general influence of a priesthood. This question
�16
The Bearing of Morals
seems to me a more difficult one than the former ; at any
rate it is not so easy to find general principles which are
at once simple in their nature and clear to the conscience
of any man who honestly considers them. One such
principle, indeed, there is, which can hardly be stated in
a Protestant country without meeting with a cordial
response ; being indeed that characteristic of our race
which made the Reformation a necessity, and became the
soul of the Protestant movement. I mean the principle
which forbids the priest to come between a man and his
conscience. If it be true, as our daily experience teaches
us, that the moral sense gains in clearness and power by
exercise, by the constant endeavour to find out and to see
for ourselves what is right and what is wrong, it must
be nothing short of a moral suicide to delegate our con
science to another man. It is true that when we are in
difficulties, and do not altogether see our way, we quite
rio-htly seek counsel and advice of some friend who has
more experience, more wisdom begot by it, more devo
tion to the right than ourselves, and who, not being in
volved in the difficulties which encompass us, may more
easily see the way out of them. But such counsel does
not and ought not to take the place of our private judg
ment ; on the contrary, among wise men it is asked and
given’for the purpose of helping and supporting private
judgment. I should go to my friend, not that he may
tell me what to do, but that he may help me to see what
is right.
.
Now, as we all know, there is a priesthood whose in
fluence's not to be made light of, even in our own land,
which claims to do two things : to declare with infallible
authority what is right and what is wrong, and to take
away the guilt of the sinner after confession has been
made to it. The second of these claims we shall come
back upon in connection with another part of the sub
ject. But that claim is one which, as it seems to me,
ought to condemn the priesthood making it in the eyes
of every conscientious man. We must take care to keep
�on Religion.
this question to itself, and not to let it be confused with
quite different ones. The priesthood in question, as we
all know, has taught that as right which is not right,
and has condemned as wrong some of the holiest dutiesof mankind. But this is not what we are here concerned
with. Let us put an ideal case of a priesthood which,
as a matter of fact, taught a morality agreeing with thehealthy conscience of all men at a given time ; but which,
nevertheless, taught this as an infallible revelation. The
tendency of such teaching, if really accepted, would be
to destroy morality altogether, for it is of the very essence
of the moral sense that it is a common perception by men
of what is good for man. It arises, not in one man’smind by a flash of genius or a transport of ecstasy, but
in all men’s minds, as the fruit of their necessary inter
course and united labour for a common object. When
an infallible authority is set up, the voice of this natural
human conscience must be hushed and schooled, and
made to speak the words of a formula. Obedience be
comes the whole duty of man; and the notion of right
is attached to a lifeless code of rules, instead of being the
informing character of a nation. The natural conse
quence is that it fades gradually out and ends by disap
pearing altogether. I am not describing a purely con
jectural state of things, but an effect which has actually
been produced at various times and in considerable popu
lations by the influence of the Catholic Church. It is
true that we cannot find an actually crucial instance of
a pure morality taught as an infallible revelation, and so
in time ceasing to be morality for that reason alone.
There are two circumstances which prevent this. One
is that the Catholic priesthood has always practically
taught an imperfect morality, and that it is difficult to
distinguish between the effects of precepts which are
wrong in themselves and precepts which are only wrong
because of the manner in which they are enforced. The
other circumstance is that the priesthood has very rarely
found a population willing to place itself completely and
�18
The Bearing of Morals
absolutely under priestly control. Men must live together
and work for common objects even in priest-ridden
■countries ; and those conditions, which in the course of
ages have been able to create the moral sense, cannot
fail in some degree to recall it to men’s minds and gra
dually to reinforce it. Thus it comes about that a great
and increasing portion of life breaks free from priestly
influences, and is governed upon right and rational
grounds. The goodness of men shows itself in time
more powerful than the wickedness of some of their re
ligions.
The practical inference is, then, that we ought to do
all in our power to restrain and diminish the influence of
any priesthood which claims to rule consciences. But
when we attempt to go beyond this plain Protestant
principle, we find that the question is one of history and
politics. The question which we want to ask ourselves
—“Is it right to support this or that priesthood ?”—can
only be answered by this other question, “ What has it
done or got done ?”
In asking this question, we must bear in mind that
the word priesthood, as we have used it hitherto, has a
very wide meaning—namely, it means any body of men
who perform special ceremonies in the name of religion ;
a ceremony being an act which is prescribed by religion
to that body of men, but not on account of its intrinsic
rightness or wrongness. It includes, therefore, not only
the priests of Catholicism, or of the Obi rites, who lay
claim to a magical character and powers, but the more
familiar clergymen or ministers of Protestant denomina
tions, and the members of monastic orders. But there
is a considerable difference, pointed out by Hume, be
tween a priest, who lays claim to a magical character
and powers, and a clergyman, in the English sense, as
it was understood in Hume’s day, whose office was to
remind people of their duties every Sunday, and
to represent a certain standard of culture in remote
country districts. It will, perhaps, conduce to clear-
�on Religion.
19
ness if we use the word priest exclusively in the first
sense.
There is another confusion which we must endeavour
to avoid, if we would really get at the truth of this
matter. When one ventures to doubt whether the
Catholic clergy has really been an unmixed blessing to
Europe, one is generally met by the reply, “ You cannot
find any fault with the Sermon on the Mount.” Now,
it would be too much to say that this has nothing to do
with the question we were proposing to ask, for there is
a sense in which the Sermon on the Mount and the
Catholic clergy have something to do with each other.
The Sermon on the Mount is admitted on all hands to
be the best and most precious thing that Christianity
has offered to the world ; and it cannot be doubted that
the Catholic clergy of East and West were the only
spokesmen of Christianity until the Reformation, and
are the spokesmen of the vast majority of Christians at
this moment. But it must surely be unnecessary to say,
in a Protestant country, that the Catholic Church and
the Gospel are two very different things. The moral
teaching of Christ, as partly preserved in the three first
gospels, or—which is the same thing—the moral teach
ing of the great Rabbi Hillel, as partly preserved in the
Pirke Aboth, is the expression of the conscience of a
people who had fought long and heroically for their
national existence. In that terrible conflict they had
learned the supreme and overwhelming importance of
conduct, the necessity for those who would survive, of
fighting manfully for their lives and making a stand
against the hostile powers around; the weakness and
uselessness of solitary and selfish efforts, the necessity'
for a man who would be a man to lose his poor single
personality in the being of a greater and nobler com
batant—the nation. And they said all this, after their
fashion of short and potent sayings, perhaps better than
any other men have said it before or since. “ If I am
not for myself,” said the great Hillel, “who is for me ?
�20
The Bearing of Morals
And if I am only for myself, where is the use of me ?
And if not noiv, when ?" It would be hard to find a morestriking contrast than exists between the sturdy unsel
fish independence of this saying, and the abject and
selfish servility of the priest-ridden claimant of the skies.
It was this heroic people that produced the morality of
the Sermon on the Mount. But it was not they who
produced the priests and the dogmas of Catholicism.
Shaven crowns, linen vestments, and the claim to priestly
rule over consciences, these were dwellers on the banks
of the Nile. The gospel indeed came out of Judaea, bub
the Church and her dogmas came out of Egypt. Not,
as it is written, “ Out of Egypt have I called my son,”
but, “ Out of Egypt have I called my daughter.” St.
Gregory of Nazianzum remarks with wonder that Egypt,
having so lately worshipped bulls, goats, and crocodiles,
was now teaching the world the worship of the Trinity
in its truest form.”* Poor, simple St. Gregory! it was
not that Egypt had risen higher, but that the world had
sunk lower. The empire, which in the time of Augustus
had dreaded, and with reason, the corrupting influenceof Egyptian superstitions, was now eaten up by them,
and rapidly rotting away.
Then, when we ask what has been the influence of the
Catholic clergy upon European nations, we are not in
quiring about the results of accepting the morality of the
Sermon on the Mount; we are inquiring into the effect
of attaching an Egyptian priesthood, which teaches
Egyptian dogmas, to the life and sayings of a Jewish
prophet.
In this inquiry, which requires the knowledge of facts
beyond our own immediate experience, we must make
use of the great principle of authority, which enables us
to profit by the experience of other men. The great
civilised countries on the continent of Europe at the
present day—France, Germany, Austria, and Italy—
* See Sharpe, ‘ Egyptian Mythology and Egj ptian Christianity,’ p. 114.
�on Religion.
21
have had an extensive experience of the Catholic ^ergy
for a great number of centuries, and. they are forced by
strong practical reasons to form a. judgment, upon the
•character and tendencies of an institution which is sutficiently powerful to command the attention of all w o
are interested in public affairs. We might add the ex
perience of our forefathers three centuries ago, and ot
Ireland at this moment; but home politics are apt to be
looked upon with other eyes than those of reason. Let
us hear, then, the judgment of the civilised people o
Europe on this question.
It is a matter of notoriety that an aider and abettor ot
clerical pretensions is regarded in France as an enemy
of France and of Frenchmen ; in Germany as an enemy
of Germany and of Germans ; in Austria as an enemy of
Austria and Hungary, of both Austrians and .Magyars ;
and in Italy as an enemy of Italy and the Italians. He
is so regarded, not by a few wild and revolutionary en
thusiasts who have cast away all the beliefs of their
childhood and all bonds connecting them with the past,
but by a great and increasing majority of sober and con
scientious men of all creeds and persuasions, who are
filled with a love for their country, and whose hopes and
aims for the future are animated and guided by the
•examples of those who have gone before them, and by a
sense of the continuity of national life. The profound
conviction and determination of the people in all these
countries, that the clergy must be restricted to a purely
ceremonial province, and must not be allowed to inter
fere, as clergy, in public affairs—this conviction and de
termination, I say, are not the effect of a rejection of the
Catholic dogmas. Such rejection has not in fact been
made in Catholic countries by the great, majority. It
involves many difficult speculative questions, the pro
found disturbance of old habits of thought, and the toil
some consideration of abstract ideas. But such is the
happy inconsistency of human nature, that men who
would be shocked and pained by a doubt about the cen
�22
The Bearing of Morals
tral doctrines of their religions, are far more really and
practically shocked and pained by the moral consequences
of clerical ascendancy. About the dogmas they do not
know; they were taught them in childhood, and have
not inquired into them since, and therefore they are not
competent witnesses to the truth of them. But about
the priesthood they do know, by daily and hourly expe
rience ; and to its character they are competent wit
nesses. JSo man can express his convictions more
forcibly than by acting upon them in a great and solemn
matter of national importance. In all these countries
the conviction of the serious and sober majority of the
people is embodied, and is being daily embodied, in
special legislation, openly and avowedly intended to
guard against clerical aggression." The more closely the
legislature of these countries reflects the popular will,
the more clear and pronounced does this tendency be
come. It may be thwarted or evaded for the moment
by constitutional devices and parliamentary tricks, but
sooner 01 later the nation will be thoroughly represented
in all of them ; and as to what is then to be expected let
the panic of the clerical parties make answer.
This is a state of opinion and of feeling which we in
our own country find it hard to understand, although it
is one of the most persistent characters of our nation in
past times. We have spoken so plainly and struck so
hard in the past, that we seem to have won the right to
let this matter alone. We think our enemies are dead,
and we forget that our neighbour’s enemies are plainly
alive : and then we wonder that he does not sit down,
and be quiet as we are. We are not much accustomed to
be afraid, and we never know when we are beaten. But
those who are nearer to the danger feel a very real and,
it seems to me, well-grounded fear. The whole struc
ture of modern society, the fruit of long and painful
efforts, the hopes of further improvement, the triumphs
of justice, of freedom, and of light, the bonds of patriotism
which make each nation one, the bonds of humanity
�on Religion.
2$
which bring different nations together—all these they
see to be menaced with a great and real and even press
ing danger. For myself, I confess that I cannot help
feeling as they feel. It seems to me quite possible that
the moral and intellectual culture of Europe, the light
and the right, what makes life worth having and men
worthy to have it, may be clean swept away by a revival
of superstition. We are, perhaps, ourselves not free
from such a domestic danger; but no one can doubt that
the danger would speedily arise if all Europe at our side
should become again barbaric, not with the weakness
and docility of a barbarism which has never known better,
but with the strength of a past civilisation perverted to
the service of evil.
Those who know best, then, about the Catholic priest
hood at present, regard it as a standing menace to the
state and to the moral fabric of society.
Some would have us believe that this condition of
things is quite new, and has in fact been created by the
Vatican Council. In the Middle Ages> they say, the
Church did incalculable service ; or even if you do not
allow that, yet the ancient Egyptian priesthood invented
many useful arts; or if you have read anything which is
not to their credit, there were the Babylonians and
Assyrians who had priests, thousands of years ago ; and
in fact, the more you go back into prehistoric ages, and
the further you go away into distant countries, the less
you can find to say against the priesthoods of those
times and places. This statement, for which there is
certainly much foundation, may be put into another
form : the more you come forward into modern times
and neighbouring countries, where the facts can actually
be got at, the more complete is the evidence against the
priesthoods of these times and places. But the whole
argument is founded upon what is at least a doubtful
view of human nature and of society. Just as an early
school of geologists were accustomed to explain the pre
sent state of the earth’s surface by supposing that in
�24
The Bearing of Morals
primitive ages the processes of geologic change were far
more violent and rapid than they are now—so cata
strophic, indeed, as to constitute a thoroughly different
state of things—so there is a school of historians who
think that the intimate structure of human nature, its
capabilities of learning and of adapting itself to society,
have so far altered within the historic period as to make
the present processes of social change totally different in
character from those even of the moderately distant past.
They think that institutions and conditions which are
plainly harmful to us now have at other times and places
■done good and serviceable work. War, pestilence, priest
craft, and slavery have been represented as positive
boons to an early state of society. They are not
blessings to us, it is true; but then times have altered
very much.
On the other hand, a later school of geologists have
■seen reason to think that the processes of change have
never, since the earth finally solidified, been very diffe
rent from what they áre now. More rapid, indeed, they
must have been in early times, for many reasons; but
not so very much more rapid as to constitute an entirely
different state of things. And it does seem to me in
like manner that a wider and more rational view of his
tory will recognise more and more of the permanent and
less and less of the changeable element in human nature.
No doubt our ancestors of a thousand generations back
■were very different beings from ourselves ; perhaps fifty
thousand generations back they were not men at all.
But the historic period is hardly to be stretched beyond
two hundred generations ; and it seems unreasonable to
■expect that in such a tiny page of our biography we can
trace with clearness the growth and progress of a long
life. Compare Egypt in the time of King Menes, say
six thousand years ago, with Spain in this present cen
tury, before Englishmen made any railways there : I
suppose the main difference is that the Egyptians washed
themselves. It seems more analogous to what we find
�on Religion.
2$
in other fields of inquiry, to suppose that there, are cer
tain great broad principles of human life ■which have
been true all along; that certain conditions have always
been favourable to the health of society, and certain
other conditions always hurtful.
Now, although I have many times asked for it, from
those who said that somewhere and at some time man
kind had derived benefits from a priesthood laying claim
to a magical character and powers, I have never been
able to get any evidence for this statement. Nobody
will give me a date, and a latitude and longitude, that I
may examine into the matter. “ In the Middle Ages the
priests and monks were the sole depositories of learning.’*
Quite so ; a man burns your house to the ground, builds
a wretched hovel on the ruins, and then takes credit for
whatever shelter there is about the place. In the Middle
Agesnearly all learned men were obliged to become priests
and monks. “ Then again, the bishops have sometimes
acted as tribunes of the people, to protect them against
the tyranny of kings.” No doubt, when Pope and Caesar
fall out, honest men may come by their own. If two
men rob you in a dark lane, and then quarrel over the
plunder, so that you get a chance to escape with your
life, you will of course be very grateful to each of them
for having prevented the other from killing you; but
you would be much more grateful to a policeman who
locked them both up. Two powers have sought to en
slave the people, and have quarrelled with each other;,
certainly we are very much obliged to them for quarrel
ling, but a condition of still greater happiness and security
would be the non-existence of both.
I can find no evidence that seriously militates against
the rule that the priest is at all times and in all placesthe enemy of all men—Sacerdos semper, ubique, et omni
bus inimicus. I do not deny that the priest is very often
a most earnest and conscientious man, doing the very
best that he knows of as well as he can do it. Lord
Amberley is quite right insayingthat the blame rests more
�06
The Bearing of Morals
.with the laity than with the priesthood; that it has in
sisted on magic and mysteries, and has forced the priest
hood to produce them. But then, how dreadful is the
system that puts good men to such uses!
And although it is true that in its origin a priesthood is
the effect of an evil already existing, a symptom of social
.disease rather than a cause of it, yet, once being created
and made powerful, it tends in many ways to prolong
and increase the disease which gave it birth. One of
these ways is so marked and of such practical import
ance that we are bound to consider it here; I mean the
education of children. If there is one lesson which his
tory forces upon us in every page, it is this : keep your
children away from the priest, or he will make them the
enemies of mankind. It is not the Catholic clergy and
those like them who are alone to be dreaded in this
matter ; even the representatives of apparently harmless
religions may do incalculable mischief if they get educa
tion into their hands. To the early Mohammedans the
mosque was the one public building in every place where
public business could be transacted ; and so it was natu
rally the place of primary education, which they held to
be a matter of supreme importance. By-and-bye, as the
clergy grew up, the mosque was gradually usurped by
them, and primary education fell into their hands. Then
ensued a “ revival of religion
religion became a fana
ticism : books were burnt and universities were closed ;
the empire rotted away in East and West, until it was
conquered by Turkish savages in Asia and by Christian
savages in Spain.
The labours of students of the early history of institu
tions—notably Sir Henry Maine and M. Laveleye—have
disclosed to us an element of society which appears to
have existed in all times and places, and which is the
basis of our own social structure. The village commu
nity, or commune, or township, found in tribes of the
most vaiied race and time, has so modified itself as to
get adapted in one place or another to all the different
�on Religion.
27
•conditions of human existence. This union of men to
work for a common object has transformed them from
wild animals into tame ones. _ Century by century the
educating process of the social life has been working at
.human nature; it has built itself into our inmost soul.
Such as we are—moral and rational beings—thinking
and talking in general conceptions about the facts that
make up our life, feeling a necessity to act, not for our
selves, but for Ourself, for the larger life of Man in which
wre are elements ; such moral and rational beings, I say,
Man has made us. By Man I mean men organized into
a society, which fights for its life, not only as a mere col
lection of men who must separately be kept alive, but as
a society. It must fight, not only against external ene
mies, but against treason and disruption within it.
Hence comes the unity of interest of all its members;
each of them has to feel that he is not himself only but
a part of all the rest. Conscience—the sense of right
and wrong—-^springs out of the habit of judging things
from the point of view of all and not of one. It is Our
self, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness.
The codes of morality, then, which are adopted into
various religions, and afterwards taught as parts of reli
gious systems, are derived from secular sources. The
most ancient version of the Ten Commandments, what
ever the investigations of scholars may make it out to
be, originates, not in the thunders of Sinai, but in the
peaceful life of men on the plains of Chaldsea. Conscience
is the voice of Man ingrained into our hearts, command
ing us to work for Man.
Religions differ in the treatment which they give to
this most sacred heirloom of our past history. Some
times they invert its precepts—telling men to be sub■ missive under oppression because the powers that be are
ordained of God ; telling them to believe where they have
not seen, and to play with falsehood in order that a par
ticular doctrine may prevail, instead of seeking for truth
. whatever it may be ; telling them to betray their country
�28
The Bearing of Morals
for the sake of their church; But there is one great dis
tinction to which I wish, in conclusion, to call special
attention—a distinction between two kinds of religious
emotion which bear upon the conduct of men.
We said that conscience is the voice of Man within
us, commanding us to work for Man. We do not know
this immediately by our own experience; we only know
that something within us commands us to work for Man.
This fact men have tried to explain ; and they have
thought, for the most part, that this voice was the
voice of a god. But the explanation takes two dif
ferent forms: the god may speak in us for Man’s
sake, or for his own sake.
If he speaks for his
own sake—and this is what generally happens when
he has priests who lay claim to a magical charac
ter and powers—our allegiance is apt to be taken away
from Man, and transferred to the god. When we love
our brother for the sake of our brother we help all men
to grow in the right; but when we love our brother for
the sake of somebody else, who is very likely to damn
our brother, it very soon comes to burning him alive for
his soul’s health. When men respect human life for the
sake of Man, tranquillity, order, and progress go hand in
hand ; but those who only respected human life because
God had forbidden murder, have set their mark upon
Europe in fifteen centuries of blood and fire.
These are only two examples of a general rule. Wher
ever the allegiance of men has been diverted from Man
to some divinity who speaks to men for his own sake and
seeks his own glory, one thing has happened. The right
precepts might be enforced, but they were enforced upon
wrong grounds, and they were not obeyed. But right
precepts are not always enforced ; the fact that the foun
tains of morality have been poisoned makes it easy to
substitute wrong precepts for right ones.
To this same treason against humanity belongs the
claim of the priesthood to take away the guilt of a sinner
after confession has been made to it. The Catholic priest
�on Religion.
professes to act as an ambassador for his God, and to
absolve the guilty man by conveying to him the forgive
ness of heaven. If his credentials were ever so sure, it
he were indeed the ambassador of a superhuman power,
the claim would be treasonable. Can the favour of the
Czar make guiltless the murderer of old men and women
and children in Circassian valleys ? Can the pardon of
the Sultan make clean the bloody hands.of a Pasha?
As little can any God forgive sins committed against
man. When men think he can, they compound for old
sins which the god did not like by committing new ones
which he does like. Many a remorseful despot has
atoned for the levities of his youth by the persecution of
heretics in his old age. That frightful crime, the adul
teration of food, could not possibly be so common
amongst us if men were not taught to regard it as merely
objectionable because it is remotely connected with
stealing, of which God has expressed his disapproval in
the Decalogue ; and therefore, as quite naturally set
right by a punctual attendance at church on Sundays.
When a Ritualist breaks his fast before celebrating the
Holy Communion, his deity can forgive him, if he likes,
for the matter concerns nobody else; but no deity can
forgive him for preventing his parishioners from setting
up a public library and reading room for fear they should
read Mr. Darwin’s works in it. That sin is committed
against the people, and a god cannot take it away.
I call those religions which undermine the supreme
allegiance of the conscience to Man ultramontane reli
gions, because they seek their springs of action ultra
monies, outside of the common experience and daily life
of man. And I remark about them that they are espe
cially apt to teach wrong precepts, and that even when
they command men to do the right things they put the
command upon wrong motives, and do not get the things
done.
But there are forms of religious emotion which do not
thus undermine the conscience. Par be it from me to
�3©
The Bearing of Morals on Religion.
undervalue the help and strength which many of the
bravest of our brethren have drawn from the thought of
an unseen helper of men. He who, wearied or stricken
in the fight with the powers of darkness, asks himself in
a solitary place, “ Is it all for nothing ? shall we indeed
be overthrown ?” He does find something which may
justify that thought. In such a moment of utter sin
cerity, when a man has bared his own soul before the
immensities and the eternities, a presence, in which his
own poor personality is shrivelled into nothingness,
arises within him, and says, as plainly as words can say,
“ I am with thee, and I am greater than thou.” Many
names of gods, of many shapes, have men given to thispresence; seeking by names and pictures to know more
clearly and to remember more continually the guide and
the helper of men. No such comradeship with the Great:
Companion shall have anything but reverence from me,)
who have known the divine gentleness of Denison
Maurice, the strong and healthy practical instinct of
Charles Kingsley, and who now revere with all my heart
the teaching of James Martineau. They seem to me, one
and all, to be reaching forward with loving anticipation
to a clearer vision which is yet to come—tencLentesque
manus ripcB ulterioris amore. For, after all, such a helper ,
of men, outside of humanity, the truth will not allow us
to see. The dim and shadowy outlines of the super
human deity fade slowly away from before us; and as
the mist of his presence floats aside, we perceive with
greater and greater clearness the shape of a yet grander
and nobler figure—of Him who made all gods and shall
unmake them. From the dim dawn of history, and from
the inmost depth of every soul, the face of our father
Man looks out upon us with the fire of eternal youth in
his eyes, and says, “ Before Jehovah was, I am !”
�SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
To provide for the delivery on Sundays in the Metropolis, and
to encourage the delivery elsewhere, of Lectures on Science,
—physical, intellectual, and moral,—History, Literature,
and Art; especially in their bearing upon the improvement
and social well-being of mankind.
THE“ SOCIETYS LECTURES
ARE DELIVERED AT
ST. GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
On SUNDAY Afternoons, at FOUR o'clock precisely.
(Annually—from November to May).
Twenty-Four Lectures (in three series), ending 24th April,
1878, will be given.
Members’ £1 subscription entitles them to an annual ticket
(transferable and admitting to the reserved seats), and to eight
■single reserved-seat tickets available for any lecture.
Tickets for each series (one for each lecture) as below,—
To the Shilling Reserved Seats—5s. 6d.
To the Sixpenny Seats—2s.., being at the rate of Threepence
each lecture.
For tickets and the published lectures apply (by letter, enclos
ing postage-stamps, order, or cheque), to the Hon. Treasurer, Wm.
Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Crescent, Hyde Park, W.
Payment at the door One Penny Sixpence ;—and
(Reserved Seats) One Shilling.
�The Society’s Lectures by Professor Clifford are —
On “ Body and Mind.”
On “ The first and the last Catastrophe : A criticism on some
recent speculations about the duration of the Universe.”
On “ Right and Wrong; the scientific ground of their dis
tinction.”
On “ The Bearing of Morals on Religion.”
The price of each of the above Lectures is 3d., or post-free 3|d.
On “ Atoms ; being an Explanation of what is Definitely
Known about them.”
Price Id. Two, post-free, 2|d.
Recently Printed,
Mr. A. E. FIN CH. On “ The Influence of Astronomical Dis
covery in the Development of the Human Mind.” With
Woodcut Illustrations.
Miss F. MILLER. On “The Lessons of a Life:—Harriet
Martineau.”
Dr. G. G. ZERFFI. On “ The Eastern Question; from a
Religious and Social point of view.”
The price of each of the above Lectures is 3d., or post-free 3|d.
Can be obtained (on remittance of postage stamps) of the Hon.
Treasurer, Wm. Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Cres
cent, Hyde Park, W., or at the Hall on the days of Lecture;
or of Mr. J. Bumpus, Bookseller, 158 Oxford Street, W.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The bearing of morals on religion : a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, St George's Hall, Langham Place, on Sunday afternoon, 4th March, 1877
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Clifford, William Kingdon [1845-1879]
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 30 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: A list of the Society's lectures by Professor Clifford on back page. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Sunday Lecture Society
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
N090
Subject
The topic of the resource
Ethics
Religion
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The bearing of morals on religion : a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, St George's Hall, Langham Place, on Sunday afternoon, 4th March, 1877), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
NSS
Religion and Ethics
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/43ab754e272b49392052cf2fc2bb8d33.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=qRwK9Zs3dPATDauh8Z6GBLaszN1jovsuGw4RpmPDX4-xaiUy0bOfPzDP0SBO14XRJHEGRjv-YuBoT3-182ecN5XwdzIucPCkNaNAALejbw5SK6CmdfI3e4CeRzXgWxvMsrV6UyUCsTBFSBReX4ol0kSke%7EBZhUz2qiEPh7cz9ATxsnVp1FchrlhdfhEXmqPJGPPZ57CqxkGMOvlRFWdvTIutJcZxMl5NP2-vNNRgxqIHkO02L6Dk0RSGXXs7m0wTEgpvlph9d4AdygvbVlH6LFLm1BtKd3Fvf5i2MsBYV-Jyc14dxDtMXHkJjvrGsoieP73OqjAR8g5MqbaLZAnBOg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
d2cc53d03a99ae45c45b153d385c99d5
PDF Text
Text
PUBLISHED BY THOMAS SCOTT,
II THE
TEEBACE, FABQVHAB BOAD,
VPPEB NOEWOOD,
LONDON, S.E.
Price Threepence.
SIGNS OF THE TIMES.
JANUARY, 1877.
ELDOM has a month passed away so utterly devoid
of
In
tical there is news enough and to spare; but in the
world religious a great calm prevails—a curious and
amusing change from the weeping, wailing, and
gnashing of teeth lately heard from the dignitaries
of the Church. Whether the triumphant shouts
that—from the sceptical camp—echoed back their
plaints, have scared them into silence, they only
know, what is certain, is that there is “ silence in
news as that
Sbeen all ecclesiasticalyesterdays.” which has justpoli
added to “ our
the world
�2
heaven,” after the trampet has sounded. As this
lull will probably last only for the space of “ halfan-hour,” we will take advantage of it to rest on our
oa¥s, and to look back over what 1876 has done in
the orthodox and the unorthodox worlds. Last year
opened with a “ Missionary Commissioner ” to
Central Africa, in the person of Mr. Stanley, a native
of Bristol, best known in his character of correspon
dent of the New York Herald and discoverer of Dr.
Livingstone. Earnest Christians congratulated them
selves on the “opened door,” and were full of plans
for the evangelisation of Central Africa. Last year
closed with a chorus of cries of disgust against the
Missionary Commissioner for his brutal conduct to
the natives. He may be carrying them Bibles ; but
he certainly smites with the sword of the Lord and
of Gideon. He is a missionary that would have glad
dened the heart of Moses with his zeal for Jehovah.
Unfortunately, he is giving to the natives so unplea
sant an idea of the Christian missionary that any
who go after him, less well armed, will certainly pay
for his brutality. Natives who should, without
cause, attack and kill European travellers, would
justly be stigmatised as murderous savages, who
should be punished for their crimes. What lan
guage, then, ought to be applied to a “ civilized
gentleman” who, without provocation, slaughters
harmless natives, and teaches them distrust and
hatred of every white man ? We all know that Mr.
Stanley is only following out the good old orthodox
plan of spreading Christianity; but the days of
Charlemagne do not need revival, and the nineteenth
century ought to be an improvement on the ninth.
Mr. Stanley is not the only missionary who has
done but little to advance the Christian cause; that
far more august messenger of the gospel, Albert
Edward, hight Prince of Wales, sorely disappointed
the hopes of those who regarded him as “an instru
�3
ment” for spreading the faith in India. His visit to
the East has Indianised England more than it has
Anglicised India. Instead of Indian ladies wearing
crosses (Christian ones, of course), English ladies
wearswamies, “ abominable little Hindu gods.” How
lamentable a result is here! In Church matters,
India has been most unfortunate. The two new
young Bishops of Bombay and of Columbo have set
their respective dioceses in flames. They are both
ritualists of an advanced type, and naturally clash
with the semi-dissenting missionaries of the Church
Missionary Society. The special war has taken place
in Ceylon, where the Bishop of Columbo suspended
nearly all the missionaries, and insisted on their sub
mission to his authority. The laity supported the
missionaries whom they knew against the Bishop
whom they did not know, and the strife became very
bitter. It was taken up in the English Church papers.
The Church Times talked much of episcopal authority—
which it reverences in Ceylon though not in England—
and of the duty of all the faithful (Ritualistic) to aid
and comfort the aggrieved bishop, and to strengthen
him against the rebels. The Rock issued fiery articles
against the ritualist wolf in episcopal sheep’s clothing,
and exhorted the missionaries to stand firm, and the
faithful (evangelical) to rally round them and help
them by prayer and purse. The Bishop wrote home
in July and August to the parent society, and in
November a committee, appointed to consider “the
matters in dispute between the Bishop of Columbo
and the missionaries in the island,” delivered their
decision. This judgment is somewhat elaborate, and
is wholly against the Bishop, and in favour of the
Society’s missionaries ; the Bishop wrote asking that
the Society should discontinue its connection with the
Tamil Coolie Mission Association, should recognise
the freedom of chaplains to open schools and hold
services for the Coolies, should recall the Rev. W.
�4
Clark—who kept io his work in defiance of the Bishop
—and should recognise the Bishop’s right to “ a veto
on the appointment of catechists, and to exercise
authority over all congregations as to place, time, and
manner of service.” The Church Missionary Society
replies, that the Tamil Coolie Association has raised
its own fund for supporting catechists, and has placed
them under the superintendence of the missionaries,
and has further, by careful rules, guarded against
“ any infraction of Church of England principles in
the management of the Mission ; ” that this arrange
ment has been carried on for twenty years without
any censure from the successive Bishops of Columbo,
and that “ therefore the committee cannot recognise
the right of the Bishop to demand its discontinuance,
or to take the work of the mission into his own
hands; ” the Society, as to the ministration of
chaplains, says that it has neither the power nor the
wish to prevent chaplains from doing as they like,
but it most emphatically declines to recognize their
right to interfere with Church Missionary work, or to
take “ any part in it except by permission.” The
Rev. W. Clark has appealed to the Metropolitan, and
the Society can do nothing until that appeal is decided ;
but Mr. Clark has been a “ faithful and laborious
missionary ” for the last twenty-eight years, and did
quite right in sticking to his post. As to the Bishop’s
wish for a veto, and for unlimited authority, the
Society cannot see its way “ to comply with the
Bishop’s request.” In addition to these quarrels,
which serve as amusement to the watching “ heathen,”
Free Thought is honeycombing India in every
direction; free thought pamphlets and articles are
translated and circulated widely among the Hindus,
and the keen and subtle Hindu intellect is busy in
analysing the creed of Christendom; the Bramo
Somaj progresses slowly, winning adherence among
the more devotional minds, while forms of free
�5
thought far more advanced are making their way
rapidly, and are being disseminated through the
three presidencies. On the whole, the prospects of
Rationalism in India are most hopeful, and the year’s
progress is marked.
If we look over to America, we find the army of
heresy steadily winning its way, though, as every
where, arrayed against a mass of superstition. The
year is there principally marked by the forma
tion of a National Liberal League, with Francis
E. Abbot, the well-known editor of the Index, as its
President, and among its Vice-Presidents such men
as A. B. Frothingham, Horace Seaver, D. M. Bennett,
and B. F. Underwood. The League is formed to
“accomplish the total separation of Church and State,”
so that no form of religion or of non-religion may be in
any way recognised by the Civil Authorities. It
aims at gaining equal rights for all citizens, without dis
tinction of creed, and at eliminating from civil matters
all recognition of religion. The League has already
received adhesions from every quarter, and bids fair
to become a power in America, and to have the most
salutary influence. Beyond the establishment of
this Union there is nothing during the past year
specially worthy of notice in the religious world of
the great Republic. There have been some sharp
struggles between the Rationalists and the Sabba
tarians, in which the Sabbatarians have, unluckily,
triumphed, and Messrs. Moody and Sankey have
gone on their injurious way, but are happily gradually
fading out of public notice. They have at least done
one useful thing among all the mischief: they have
disgusted a large number of sensible people writh
orthodox Christianity.
Travelling to Europe, what has 1876 done for us ?
In Spain, a retrograde policy is in the ascendant for
the moment, and the Church is triumphant. Article
XI. of the Constitution is so loosely worded as to be
�6
capable of any severity of construction against all
•who do not conform to the Established Church, and
it has been put in force against the Protestant con
gregations with great rigour. The English Protestants
have appealed to Lord Derby to interfere, but as yet
nothing has been done beyond “ representations.”
Meanwhile, Free Thought is growing stronger, and
Rationalistic works are sold with tolerable freedom;
yet, on the whole, Spain is a black blot in the sky.
France is more hopeful, although Clericalism is
struggling violently for supremacy, and it will be
long before it ceases to be a danger to the State. Its
latest effort, however, has been defeated. In the
report of the Budget Committee, the grant in sup
port of the Church was reduced, and the reduction
has been carried in spite of the bitter opposition of
the Government, and of fierce debate in the Chambre
des Deputes. A mot of Prince Napoleon’s, dropped
during his vigorous speech against Clericalism—which
he declared to have been the ruin of France in 1870
—seems likely to live: Quand vous semez du jesuite,
vous recoltez des revoltes.” Gambetta, in the course
of the same debate, openly declared himself a Free
Thinker, and the whole tendency of the feeling of
the majority in the House was distinctly anti-clerical.
Even yet more significant, perhaps, was the debate
which took place in consequence of the direction of
the representative of the Minister of War, that no
military honours should be accorded to those over
whose remains no religious service was performed.
The feeling of anger aroused by this communication
was embittered by the non-ratification by the Minis
try of an order sent to the Prefet du Rhone by M. de
Marcere, directing him to repeal some decrees of his
predecessor on the subject of civil funerals. It was
said that M. de Marcere was menaced with dismissal ,
on this account, small as was the step he had taken
towards liberality. By the late Prefet’s decree it
�7
was enacted that the declaration of a death to the
registrar should be accompanied by another declara
tion stating whether or no the burial would be per
formed by a minister of one of the worships recog
nised by the State. Except under the most excep
tional circumstances, civil funerals might only take
place at six o’clock in the morning during the sum
mer, and at seven o’clock during the winter. This
circular was issued in 1873, and though it was chal
lenged, the Parliament of the day refused to interfere.
The Funeral Honours Bill was rejected by the Com
mittee to which it was submitted, and the rejection
was accompanied by a resolution affirming “ that the
essential principles of modern society require funeral
honours to be rendered without any distinction of
religious opinions.” In both these questions, there
fore, the clerical party has got the worst of the
struggle. Thus the Burial Question is stirring in
France as well as in England, and in both countries
the final answer is certain, however it may be delayed.
Clericalism is strong, but Humanity is stronger, and
before many more years pass away the open grave
will be undesecrated by war of words, and the
mourners will be left to bury their dead in peace.
France is steadily growing more and more freethinking, but much, very much, remains to be done
in the rural districts before clericalism will be really
rooted up.
In Italy, Free Thought spreads fast, and the neri
are more and more disliked by the masses whom they
chained down for so many hundred years. The
triumph of the Left in the late elections shows how
fast their power is passing away, and that a people,
gradually freeing themselves from superstition, are
“growing towards the light,” both politically and
theologically.
And of England, watchman, what of the night ?
The year 1876 has been full of fierce conflict, and
�8
some venerable superstitions have received fatal
blows. It has been a year of litigation between the
sections of the Church, and the internecine conflict
is straining the cords of the Establishment almost to
breaking. The Public Worship Regulation Bill has
borne its expected fruit; the law has been put in
force by various triplets of “ aggrieved parishioners,”
and vigorously enforced ; Mr. Dale, of St. Vedast’s,
is suppressed, and his congregation is dispersed ; Mr.
Ridsdale, of Folkestone, is not yet done with, as
the appeal case is still unheard ; many other prose
cutions are threatened, and a cry of woe goeth up
from the menaced Ritualists. Some announce, paro
dying Jules Favre’s celebrated declaration, probably
with as little reality—“not one candle from our
altars, not one thread of our vestments’’—and swear
to fight rather than to submit. Some—very young
curates—exclaim that they must not marry “ in the
present distress,” lest they should be encumbered
with wife and family when they are “ called upon to
suffer for the Lord’s sake.” Some, and these the
majority, begin to talk very distinctly of disesta
blishment as preferable to prosecution, and many
glances are turned towards the Radicals, half doubt
fully, half wishfully, amid searchings of hearts over
the advisability of making common cause with them
to destroy the Establishment. It is even rumoured
that Mr. Gladstone will, in the session of 1877, lead
an assault on the Church of England’s connection
with the State ; but this is scarcely probable, as yet.
What is certain, is that Mr. Disraeli’s Bill for “ stamp
ing out the Ritualists ” has raised a storm which
threatens to wreck the Establishment, so that be
tween the quarrels of the rival sects honest men will
have some chance of coming by their own.
The great Nonconformist minister question has
been settled by the triumph of the Dissenters. They
spent, it was said, some thousands of pounds to
�9
establish their right to the coveted title of Reverend,
and when the decision was given in their favour an
outburst of petty spite occurred among the clergy of
the Establishment, and a long correspondence ap
peared in the church papers over the all-important
subject of discovering a title which the Dissenting
rival could not appropriate. When this matter was
done with, the Devil made his appearance in the law
courts, and he was condemned and disestablished, to
the pain and horror of all truly pious souls. The
Devil gone, what might not follow him ? even hell
itself might be put out. With the Devil disappeared
also the Christian Evidence Journal, its supporters
probably thought that with the Devil gone there was
no longer any need for Christian Evidences, as the
truth of Christianity is no longer a matter of primary
importance if there be no Devil to share his lake with
unbelievers.
As the months rolled on, the main topic of Church
dignitaries — apart from quarrels of “ High and
Low”—has been ‘'Unbelief.” The cry has steadily
strengthened, and has been swelled by one voice
after another until in the autumn it rose into a
wail that drowned all other sounds. While the
clergy are squabbling as to the length of a surplice
and the colour of a garment, the laity are quietly
taking doctrine after doctrine, analysing, testing,
rejecting. The clergy fight over crosses and candles,
and the laity ask, “ What is Professor Tyndall’s
latest utterance ?” or, “ Where is Huxley’s last
lecture to be found ?” The people are becoming
leavened with scepticism—a scepticism deduced from
science, and composed of facts. Vainly, in a few
years’ time will the clergy sink into peace from utter
exhaustion. They will cease from their quarrels only
to find their churches emptied of the strong manhood
and womanhood of the nation, and their sermons on
popular Christianity regarded as full of old Eastern
�10
fables that no instructed person can be expected to
believe. 1876 shows us signs of progress at every
step, and is full of bright encouragement ; more
Free Thought in every direction; bolder heresy at
every turn; a despondent Church, divided against
itself, attacked by a triumphant foe, who only gains
strength from diversity of vigorous thought, and
who, having carried the outworks, presses on the
citadel itself. Lack of candidates for ordinations;
growing alienation of the youth and the intellect of the
day; every sign shows the same glad fact—the fact
of a dying superstition and a living, rising, Humanity.
The Rock ascribes the changes around us as the work
of the Devil himself:—
“Satan doubtless reads as we do the signs of the times, and
knowing that the period of his ‘ deceiving the nations’ has nearlyexpired, he is ‘filled with great wrath,’ and, for the purpose
of turning men’s minds away from the truth, he puts forth
his most consummate powers of falsehood and malingering.
What less could be expected from ‘ the father of lies ? ’ And
his artifices are adroitly varied according to circumstances of
time and place. In Madagascar, or the South Seas, true to
his character of ‘ a murderer from the beginning, ’ he attempts
to drown the voice of Gospel-preaching in a pool of blood. In
Ceylon and Bombay he strives to trample it down beneath the
iron hoof of Sacerdotal tyranny, or to render it repulsive or
ridiculous through the instrumentality of monks and friars.
On the Continent, where the life-giving stream has not already
been fouled with superstition, he makes it muddy with Ration
alism. Here, in England, where every one of these evil agencies
is actively at work, the great enemy seeks to blend them into
a common movement.”
The Rock is right as to the great changes now
going on; but, instead of seeing in them the work of
the evil one, shall we not recognize in the spreading
Rationalism the work of the mighty spirit of man
struggling to reach after and to grasp a purer and a
grander life ?
Some curious subjects for prayer have lately ap
peared in the public prints. A Society has been
�11
formed to pray for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals, but Fun remarks that a police-officer with a
warrant would be a far more effectual preventive of
cruelty than prayer. Mr. Spurgeon, disapproving of
Lord Beaconsfield’s Government, prayed in his Taber
nacle on Sunday, “ 0 God, give our senators wisdom,
especially at this critical time. Let not the extra
ordinary folly of our rulers lead our country into war ;
and change our rulers, 0 God, as soon as possible.”
The Tory papers are naturally very indignant at the
Liberal party, as represented by Mr. Spurgeon, form
ing an alliance with so powerful a foreign potentate
against the Government; the act is regarded as most
unpatriotic. The first Bishop of Truro ought to be
a most admirable man, as his future people are busily
praying for him; God is requested to grant to the
diocese a “ Bishop and pastor who shall diligently
preach Thy word, and duly administer the godly dis
cipline thereof.” After this, who can doubt that a
most shining example of prelacy will enlighten the
dark places of dissenting Cornwall ? If we go to
war we shall have a vigorous outburst of praying,
and among all the contradictory petitions it will be
very difficult for Him who hears prayer, to whom all
flesh will be coming, to fulfil his promise of granting
their wishes to the opposing parties.
Behold I how these Christians love one another.
Mr. J. A. Rouse writes to the Rock, against the union
of Ritualists and Evangelicals, even for the purpose
of preaching the so-called common faith. 11 Evan
gelical truth and Ritualistic heresy are and must ever
be antagonistic—one Christ, the other Belial—the
one trusting only in Jesus, the other essentially
superstitious, blasphemous, and infidel. How, then,
dare a Christian hold out the right hand of fellow
ship to idolators and heretics ? ” “ Christians ” are
exhorted not even to receive the ritualistic clergy
into their houses. Such gentleness and charity are
�12
the fruits of Christian love. The most amusing con
troversy carried on in the Hock, however, has been
one on the meaning of the Cross. A simple-hearted
clergyman wrote inquiring as to its origin, and a wellknown Free Thinker, seeing his letter, forwarded the
real answer to the Editor of the Hock, but that, of
course, was not considered fit for those very pious
columns ; since then various letters have appeared
from week to week, and the final conclusion arrived
at is that the Cross is “ the mark of the Beast ”
spoken of in Revelation—surely a most curious finale
of such a discussion concerning an emblem wherein
Paul gloried, and by which Christians are to be
saved. Of all the bitter, unscrupulous, sharp-tongued
papers, surely the Church journals bear away the
palm.
PRINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Signs of the times. January, 1877
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 12 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Printed by C.W. Reynell, Little Pulteney Street, London.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Thomas Scott
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
G5521
Subject
The topic of the resource
Free thought
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
[Unknown]
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Signs of the times. January, 1877), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Christianity-Controversial Literature
Conway Tracts
Free Thought
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/b227ba9884180992f8ada6ac1157d981.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=bJl62Vr7-aEydFxkdAd2Yx8JlwEJKMcSToG05E5EtTivk1Qo9fh14UpXN4zG0fe7Fp-bmQ3ZecKmF-nRDp872JB9tOFRh14wQ7WqH4EPVoBcg8o9f5BvbkliDjFqs4Y9JX4TI1nhn5aWlJUkP7c6iubFj3NEQhxdXTSPpquje8gn-hmC5u71ziHQhDj1rWrs1Yc02BihYph1jSJjVR8czSaArhQwuU5aIwvAeco8kn1nwomm6F5drQikn1bxGji8hZuUPwCJjaQFAi0ISkA57NJE6WEgF36gilGeQq7vZRYRfAp8mBGhmAV3RyvFeyxDNMYF86tnMI6jzi3vdMPhIA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
319bd1149075ff007b28e61c4712fd83
PDF Text
Text
HEREAFTER?
“ Warte nur; bald ruhest du auch.”—Goethe.
From 1
THE INDEX.’
Time, Midnight.—Scene, a sick chamber: Julius sits by the
bedside of his dying -father.
FATHER.
Julius, my sands of life are running low.
My hours are numbered, and thou holdst a hand
Which soon must rest as marble in thy grasp.
To-morrow’s sun will look on thee bereaved
Of him who gave thee life and who has reared
His only son with tender, loving care.
x
JULIUS.
Father, I cannot through my blinding tears
See now thy features, which to me have seemed
The index of a soul so pure and kind,
That I have almost worshipped while I loved
Him who to me was father, brother, friend.
My life will seem all desolate when thou,
My guardian and instructor, art no more.
I cannot think it true that I so soon
Must hear for the last time thy gentle voice
Inciting me to noble aims of life.
( Weeps).
�2
Yet tell me, father, is there aught that thou
Wouldst give me as a last, a dying charge 1
Doubt not, I’ll do it, if ’tis in my power.
FATHER.
Nothing, my son; the wishes of my heart
Dor thy great life-work are already known.
Go steadfast on with nobleness of soul
In the high path thou treadst with honour now ;
So shalt thou also, when life’s evening comes,
Lie down with equanimity to die.
JULIUS.
Father, of all the problems of the soul
"Which we have oft discussed, there is not one
"Which has so occupied our thoughts as this:—
Is man immortal ? Is he still to live
In conscious being after this frail clay
Is decomposed to native dust once more ?
When last we spoke of this, thou hadst no light,
No fixed assurance of another life;
The future looked impenetrably dark,
And immortality was held by thee
Not as a certainty, but as a hope.
How does this awful question now appear,
Now when the flame of life is burning low
And Death’s dread shadow holds thee in its gloom ?
FATHER,
The same, my son, as when the ruddy blood
Was coursing healthfully through all my veins,
And when that seemed a subject quite abstract,
Which never could have reference to me,
A living, breathing man in the full flush
�3
Of health and vigour. It is as you say:
I then could find no proof that we should liveBeyond this brief existence, though I held
Of such a future fife a solemn hope.
I see no clearer fight than then I saw,
Yet I am calm and die without a fear,
Of this assured, that nothing I can do
Will change a hair’s breadth that which is to be,
’Tis well if I awake; ’tis also well
(Perchance e’en better), if I sleep; for who
Can tell what mode of being may await
The soul which leaves its tenement of clay 1
s
Therefore I rest in perfect peace of mind:
My only grief to say farewell to thee.
JULIUS.
My Father, I confess ’tis without hope
That I approach thee with a strange request;
But I would fain try every mode which may
Throw light upon the gloom beyond the grave,
’Tis claimed by many that their absent dead
Hold converse with them still from spirit realms.
We oft have smiled at this thought in contempt,,
And ridiculed such fancies as absurd;
Yet, father, if in truth thou still shouldst five
After thy spirit quits this mortal frame,
And canst by any means convey to me
News merely of the fact of such a life,
I do implore thee, by our mutual love,
Eeveal it to my lonely, broken heart!
Come to me as I sit beside thy form, 1
Before I lay it in the silent grave!
A constant, loving watch I’ll keep for thee,
Longing and waiting for thy slightest sign.
�4
FATHER.
My son, thou knowst I had a brother onee,
"Who died a score of years since, in the flower
Of beautiful young manhood ?
JULIUS.
'
Father, yes.
FATHER.
When he lay dying, as I do to-night,
His bright eyes clouding in the film of death,
With bitter tears of grief and broken words
I made of him the same request which thou
Hast made of me.
JULIUS.
And what was the result ?
FATHER.
Dead silence ! Never from behind the veil,
The dark, thick shroud which hid him from my sight,
Came voice or sign. And so it is with all.
I pity those deluded souls who sit
Gaping and trembling round a creaking board,
Invoking through shrewd tricksters their loved dead !
Dismiss all possibility of such
A revelation from another world,
And learn to live on, patient and resigned,
Until the mystery is solved by Death.
JULIUS.
So be it, then ! But how profoundly sad
That such must be the fate of every soul I
�5
To yearn unutterably for the light,
To crave with bitter tears that blessed boon—
The sweet assurance of a future life,
And yet to be compelled to calmly wait,
See one by one the dear ones all depart,
Nor know what fate is theirs beyond the tomb !
How horrible that not a ray of light
Comes from that darkness, on whose border land
We say the last farewell to those we love !
Alas ! what are we ? Puppets that are made
To dance their part out on a reeling stage 1
Or, weaklings though we be, have we a spark
Of that diviner essence which shall live,
Nay, more, must live through everlasting years ?
FATHER.
Draw back the curtain, Julius •, let me look
Once more upon the glorious expanse
Of glittering worlds upon their rhythmic dance.
{Julius draws back the curtain.)
See yonder brilliant orb ! Its waves of light,
Moving with swift pulsations through the depths
Of azure space, fall now upon my eye
Fatigued with years of travel since they left
With lightning-like velocity their source.
Around that distant sun move glowing worlds,
Abounding doubtless like our own with life.
Such suns and systems are dispersed through space
As motes in sunbeams,—what then is our earth 1
A speck in vast immensity’s domain !
Moreover, from this speck, while yonder clock
Ticks out its smallest increment of time,
There pass away full thirty human lives !
What then is mine ? By what audacity
�6
Can I claim endless being as my right ?
If it shall be my lot to re-awake
In conscious continuity of self,
Why then I shall rejoice,—
(gasps suddenly.)
Ah ! this keen pain
Comes once more—in my heart. Thy hand, my son I
’Tis dark !—I see no more thy face. Farewell!
I’ll press thy hand—till—I—
JULIUS
(kneeling and clasping his father's hand: after a pause.)
And this is death !
His hand grows icy cold within my own ;
His breath grows fainter, and the flame of life
But flickers in its socket ere it dies !
My father ! Canst thou hear me ? It is I!
Press but my hand once more if thou dost hear I
Gone I Gone 1 and whither ? Is this icy clay,
Which here I kiss, the father whom I loved 2
These are his features,—these his loving hands
Which but a moment since pressed mine again.
So have I seen him often lie in sleep;
But from this sleep, alas ! no filial voice
Can e’er awake him I Still the starry light
Falls gently"on his eyes, which take no note
Of that which kindled thought a moment since 1
Was there a soul which ruled in this dear form,
Which willed, and loved, and thought,—a conscious self?
Distinct and free from its environment ?
An entity which nothing can destroy
Nor yet diffuse or merge into aught else ?
Or was it but a part of the great whole)
A drop of water prisoned in a shell
�7
And floating on the bosom of the sea,
Which at the breaking of the shell by Death
Has mingled once more with it parent waves ?
Or yet again, was it a kind of force,
Like that which animates the waving plant
And draws the juices upward to its leaves,
Which now has been released from this poor form
To work in others that we know not of ?
If so,—’twere vain to ask its present place
Or mode of action, as ’twould be to seek
The whereabouts of an extinguished flame,
Or of the breeze which lately fanned my cheek.
Insoluble enigmas ! who can know
The end of this poor, transitory life ?
Well did my father say : “I calmly rest
In peaceful equanimity of soul,
With firmness waiting that which is to be.”
With such a calm philosophy of fife
He passed away, without a shade of fear.
He could look back upon a life well spent,
With powers used wisely for a noble end.
’Tis well. If still he lives, those powers will be
More ripe for future usefulness. If not,
Yet think upon the good they have achieved,
Which still remains on earth in worthy lives
Ennobled, aided, and reclaimed by him.
Such immortality he has attained,
And thus can well dispense with added life,
If it should be denied. Here, father, here
•On thy dead form, which I bedew with tears,
I vow to strive thus for a deathless life :
A life which shall continue in men’s souls
Long after I am gone ; a constant power
Inspiring them to pure and noble deeds,
�8
And raising them from worthlessness and vice F
Such power is now thy immortality !
Thou liv’st again in me and hundreds more,
To whom thou didst impart thy lofty thoughts,,
Thy generous impulses, thy tender love.
So may 1 live, for evermore a source
Of lasting good on this evolving globe
In the sad drama of our human life !
J. L. Stoddard.
PRINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Hereafter?
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Stoddard, John Lawson
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 10 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Printed by C.W. Reynell, Little Pulteney Street, London.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Thomas Scott
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
G5520
Subject
The topic of the resource
Theatre
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Hereafter?), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Conway Tracts
Drama
Future Life
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/9f1262661ba4c7994eaa544508627ca6.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=eJYdsS3YIE93VNqrgCabPSq3KAfKWjgZJJJMq1tVZEyUJs-G2rvYXP%7EfUkI-u1mKTEaTtaWLwkHVhbYLO7sUAwxkkcAyjnv5ujHrJr7vAzYUH8pu9I6hSgP4KKT645EUaMLPVxmdaJsaJzQ-cCs6UqgkCM9KwZylMGUcNrusU7CWGnT%7EanWnyxfSiRzO53wA0mhjTNdoh6ohapQBMMH3JHVi3I15qepfuha86rRgULF0hn-UiR9A9TDM2f-fO5mSieO2KQ1DhQRfxMJHmjKTcl4qR4ivmI9-KEersivdBXF7YQVL5MHKIV8VyrUKZrYNuUZASYWud4pqcLnnTzQmIA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
228f7da71b50398df24338ea7ec57dae
PDF Text
Text
CT
THE WAB
AGAINST THE
WESTMINSTER STANDARDS.
REV. DAVID MACRAE’S
SPEECHES,
INCLUDING THE
SPEECH SUPPRESSED BY THE PRESBYTERY.
PCBLISHED WITH MR. MACRAE'S CONSENT,
AND EDITED
WITH NOTES AND CRITICISMS.
GLASGOW :
JOHN S. MARR & SONS, 194 BUCHANAN STREET.
1877.
�7
CONTENTS.
I’AG
Editorial Preface,....................................................................... 3
The Alarm Gun,................................................................................7
The Presbyterian Pope,.............................................................. S
The First .Speech Attacking the Standards,
.
.
.
9
Second Speech
.
.
.
21
before the
Presbytery,
.
How ■ Ecclesiastical Toryism will Deal with the
Reform,............................................................................. 33
Public Lecture
at
Gourock,................................................... 34
.
.
50
.
.
63
Appendix—Is Mr. Macrae's Picture of the Theology
the Confession a “Caricature?” .
.
.
of
Last Speech
Overture
before the
from
Presbytery (Suppressed),
Mr. Macrae's Kirk-Session,
.
.
65
�EDITORIAL PREFACE.
Mr. Macrae’s Speeches have been collected and published in this
form in deference to a widespread desire on the part of the general
public.
His first onslaught on the Confession was condemned by
many as fitted to produce alarm and disturbance in the Churches,
and even to postpone the reform which Mr. Macrae was seeking.
The result has shown, in our opinion, that his attack, sudden and
fierce though it was, was just what the situation required.
It
aroused the attention of the country; it elicited an unexpected
amount of sympathy and support from the Christian laity; and it
soon brought other champions into the field, whose swords have
flashed before now in the sacred cause of reform.
It has led to the
question being agitated in other Presbyteries ; it has seen the cause
espoused, and a battle won, by the party of reform in Glasgow ; and
it has been the means of bringing the question in a practical form
before the Supreme Court of the Church.
What awaits it now, and what awaits the men who have headed
the movement, remains to be seen.
a hopeful view of the situation.
We are amongst those who take
The Church does not stand where
she did when she cut off Dr. James Morison and Dr. John Guthrie—
two of the most devout men, and two of the most scholarly minds
she has ever had within her pale.
There is, in our opinion, plenty of
bigotry in the Church still; but it has less sway.
The times are
�4
changed ; a new spirit is arising; and tlie present movement has,
within four months of its initiation, developed with such rapidity
and is already operating so powerfully within the Church and
beyond it, that it seems not unlikely that Dr. Carpenter’s prediction,
may be verified, that Mr. Macrae’s attack on the Confession will
prove the beginning of a new era in the religious life of Scotland.
Meantime the reactionary party in the Church have been doing
their best at every stage to burke the movement.
Nothing could
be more amusing, if it were less humiliating, than to observe
how readily the divines who are against reform admit that
reform is desirable, if it is only not attempted!
They concede
its necessity in the abstract, but deny it in the concrete.
They
are agreed that it should be done, if only it is not done just now.
In the discussion of Mr. Macrae’s overture in the Paisley and
Greenock Presbytery, the Rev. J. B. Smith of Greenock thought
“the Confession might be improved, but from the present relation
to each other of the churches holding it, he did not think this was
the time for it.”
Rev. Mr. Inglis had thought the matter should
be moved in, but that it had better wait, at least for another year.
He
“ disliked excessively some things in the Confession of Faith regard
ing predestination.”
Some of the language “ could not be justified.”
It “would have been greatly to our credit had we got rid of it
a hundred years ago.”
Dr. Hutton said,
“ But ”—of course there was a “ but.”
they might all with perfect safety say of
the Confession it “ was susceptible of improvement.”
“ There
were many grounds on which the revision of the Confession might
be argued for with safety and advantage ; but—” &c.
Rev. James
Brown of Paisley admitted the revisability of the standards, “ but
there was no certain period fixed for their revision,” and “ no time
was more unfit than the present.” He admitted the right of the Church
to revise the Standards, but “ he could not support the revision just
now.”
It was the same in Glasgow.
In the endeavour to strangle
�5
as kindly as possible tlie important overture introduced by the Rev.
Fergus Ferguson of Queen’s Park, Dr. Young “recognized the right
and duty of the Church to revise from time to time its subordinate
.standards, but did not see cause to open up the question meanwhile.”
Rev. Mr. Ramage thought the Confession “ too long, too elaborate, too
polemical, too metaphysical, too technical.” He thought that something
“ more in accordance with the simplicity that is in Christ would be
greatly preferable.”
But “ a step like this had never been taken
except under the force of circumstances that rendered it inevitable.
Such circumstances did not at this moment exist, so he thought
the matter should be let alone.
In other words, he thought it would
be a good thing to do, but it should never be done—at least till it
could not be helped '.
It was the same in Edinburgh.
In the
discussion of Mr. Mill’s overture, Dr. Peddie “approved of a
revision of the Standards theoretically,”
for it.
So it is everywhere.
but
this was not the time
As Mr. Macrae himself has said, “ it
has been the same thing every time an attempt at reform has
been made. Desirable, but not now.
Our Standards fail to present
the truth of the Gospel; but this is not the time to make them
do it.
They state things that are false ; but this is not the time to
bring them into harmony with the truth ?
Was ever mockery
like this I ”
It is made an excuse by some that the Church must wait till the
right men appear.
But the policy of shirking duty and doing noth
ing is not the way to produce the right men.
that the men who have headed this
men.
are
young
Who could be expected to head a reform movement
but young men I
all
It is also objected
movement
been
The greatest reforms of the past ages have
accomplished by young men. . Christ Himself, the
supreme example, finished His work on earth when He was thirtythree. It is strange to hear Calviuistic ministers condemning younger
men for attempting reform, when Calvin himself had written
�6
his Institutes of the Christian lieligion while lie was still ten years
younger than any of the men who are heading this movement
—had, indeed, before he was twenty-eight, built up that gloomy and
gigantic system which has dominated the Church for centuries, and
before -which these Calvinistic divines are still bowing down as before
the brazen image of Nebuchadnezzar.
If men don’t do their duty
when they are young, they are not likely to begin when they are
old.
The leaders of the United Presbyterian Church to-day were
young when earlier voices proclaimed the need of revision and
reform; but they shrank from their duty, and now (with a few
notable exceptions), grown old in indolence, and hardened into Con
servatism, they seem to find no use for their experience but in
depreciating and retarding the reform which they themselves should
have accomplished long ago.
That reform, and others, are evidently
coming; and we trust these Speeches of Mr. Macrae’s will help tohasten them.
�THE WAR
AGAINST THE
WESTMINSTER STANDARDS.
I.—THE ALARM GUN.
On Tuesday, December 5th, 1876, in the Paisley and Greenock
Presbytery of the United Presbyterian Church, the Rev. David
Macrae of Gourock gave notice that at the next meeting he
would make a motion anent the Standards of the Church. He
was aware of its issues, and was ready to -meet any perils it
might involve. It was designed as an overture to the Supreme
Court of the Church, and would be in the following terms :—
“ That the time has come when the Standards of our Church
ought to be reconstructed or revised. That they are too long
and too intricate, and defeat the very object of their length and
minuteness by preventing the members of the Church from be
coming acquainted with them. Further, that, with all their
voluminousness, they probably omit more than one thing which
they ought to contain, and certainly contain a great many things
which they ought to omit—mixing up matters of opinion with
matters of faith, separating Christian Churches from one another,
multiplying difficulties in the way of a Catholic union, and hinder
ing, in a variety of ways, the progress of Christ’s Kingdom.
That even as regards the Church’s own relation to its creed, two
hundred years of research and experience have developed differ
ences between the professed and the actual faith of the Church;
�8
ancl that the spectacle of a Church professing to hold all these
articles as articles of faith, while holding many of them only as
matters of opinion, and not holding some of them at all, is a
had example to the world, and demoralising to the Church her
self. That the continued timidity of the Church in dealing
with her Standards in view of these facts is becoming discredit
able to her faith in the abiding presence of God’s Spirit; is a
policy of unfaithfulness to the truth; and a policy that would
be by no party more condemned than by the men who framed
these Standards according to the light they had, and by the
Reformers, whose creed has been preserved, but whose fearless
loyalty to truth has been to a large extent lost. That our own
Church, from her history and also from her present position (as
free on the one hand from entanglement with the State, and on
the other hand from union negotiations) stands now in a pecu
liarly favourable position for undertaking the work of revision,
which important work the Synod is respectfully overtimed to
commence, with the view of preparing, if possible, a brief and
simple formula, containing only the articles of faith which we
think every man, in order to belong to the Church of Christ,
must hold, and relegating to a separate category all points which
are merely distinctive, or may be regarded by the Church as a
desirable safeguard or protest against the errors of the time.”'
II—THE PRESBYTERIAN POPE.
Shortly after the foregoing notice was given in the Presby
tery, Mr. Macrae preached a sermon in his own church in
Gourock, on “ Popish and Protestant Superstitions,” in which,
according to the Scotsman’s report on January 12tli, he referred
to the Confession of Faith in the following terms :—He said the awe with which some of our churches regarded
that document, and the terror with which they regarded any
proposal to touch it, were essentially superstitious. The West
minster Confession deserved more study, but less idolatry.
Instead of being taken for what it was—a system of doctrine
�9
prepared by fallible men, and therefore requiring to be tested
and revised in the light of subsequent research and experience—
it had been erected into an oracle, a sort of Petrified Pope,
blind to new light, deaf to new argument, settling everything,
old or new, by the Westminster decision of two hundred and
thirty years ago. Results of thought and science, if they con
firmed the Confession, were always welcome ; if against it, they
were tabooed. Orthodoxy had come to mean acceptance of the
Confession. Heresy had come to mean, not a denial of God's
Word, but a denial of what the Westminster divines said was
God’s Word. The very Bible must be read in the light of the
Confession, if not even tried at its bar. The truth of God
could only get into the creed if stamped with the Westminster
stamp. This might be regarded as a way of guarding against
error, and especially as a safeguard against Popery. But it was
only putting aside one Pope to make way for another—happily
for a better and more Scriptural one, but not the less a Pope—
a human authority credited with infallibility, and endowed
with practical supremacy over the conscience.
Ill—THE FIRST SPEECH ATTACKING THE
STANDARDS*
Delivered
Presbytery,
January, 1877.
before the
ox the
IGth of
At the meeting of the Paisley and Greenock Presbytery in
January, Mr. Macrae brought forward the subject of the
Dr. Carpenter of London, writing about this speech to the Glasgow
Herald, in the midst of the excitement and widespread discussion
which it caused, says:— ‘ ‘ The interest which I have continued to feel
in all that relates to the national welfare of Scotland, ever since I studied
in her metropolis forty years ago, is my apology for addressing you on
�10
Westminster Standards. He read the motion of which he had
given notice at the previous meeting, and made this speech in
its support:—
When I gave notice of this motion, six weeks ago, I made
it so long and so explicit for two reasons. First, I thought
it due to the fathers and brethren of this Presbytery to make
them acquainted beforehand with the ground I meant to take, that
they might come prepared with a mature judgment upon it to
day. In the second place, I was anxious not so much to frame
a motion that would win support, as a motion (whatever its fate)
that would fully and explicitly speak the truth. For years I
waited for others to take this step, till I felt ashamed. I read
their reasons for not taking it till I felt more ashamed. At last
I felt that I had no right to look to others for a decisive step
which I was not prepared to take myself. That led to the
framing of this motion, and I am here to-day determined to
strike a blow, even if it should be my last, to liberate the Church
I love from the tyranny of a narrow and unscriptural creed, and
the hypocrisy of professed adherence to it. I am well aware of
the difficulty of dealing with our Standards. I am aware that
every proposition in that enormous compendium of Calvinistic
theology has been, and can be, with more or less shoAV of reason,
defended. I thought myself, at one time, that I could see a way
through casuistry to a plausible reconciliation of its doctrines
with my position as a minister of the Gospel of salvation. But
the subject of the ‘Revision of the Standards.’ Having had con
siderable opportunity of observing the direction of that under current
of intelligent thought which sooner or later manifests itself in surface
movement, I entertain a strong conviction that the speech of the Rev.
David Macrae, in moving for that revision, will prove the begin
ning of a new era in the religious life of Scotland. For I have longnoticed a gradual but unmistakable preparation for the downfall of that
narrow Calvinistic system which is embodied in the Standards of your
three Presbyterian Churches. The educated common sense of your
people has been coming to perceive that what is so wnmoraZ cannot be
religiously true.’’
�11
more and more I feel that for every honest mind wishing tokeep his profession square with his principles and practice, the
entanglements of casuistry are every day getting more intoler
able—worse for ourselves, worse for the Church, worse for the
cause of truth •—that we cannot a moment too soon burst these
entanglements asunder and step out into an honest and clear
profession of our faith.* My conviction is, that if our people
knew what these Standards of our Church contain—if these
documents were not so long, so intricate, so full of theological
subtleties as to repel inquirers and leave them in ignorance of
their contents—-our people would, from a sense of common
honesty, have long since demanded, what our ministers should
long since have secured, a revision, if not a new statement, of
what is believed and preached in our Church, f I maintain that
In the Edinburgh Presbytery it was stated by one of the speakers
that, eight years ago, in the Divinity Hall, Mr. Macrae headed a move
ment amongst the students, for opposition to the Westminister standards.
The result, he said, was a memorial to the Senatus, followed by a Con
ference ; and this, as far as we can learn, satisfied the students that the
standards were not held binding in the same sense as a commercial bond;
that subscription did not at all imply any such adherence to the letter of
the Confession; and that this was quite understood by the Church. It is
not at all improbable that this was part of the system of “talking objec
tors over,” which Dr. Joseph Brown referred to in his able speech in
the Glasgow Presbytery, as too common, and in the present state of
things too necessary, and part of the very system to which Mr. Macrae
takes such strong exception here.
+ Ministers themselves are not always acquainted with the standards
they profess. We know a case of one U.P. elder from the country, who,
when he removed to Edinburgh, was elected to the eldership of the
church he had joined there, but declined to accept on account of hisobjections to the Confession. The minister had an interview with him,
and asked what points he objected to. The elder specified the teaching
of infant damnation. The minister said surely that was not in the
Confession, and fetched a copy, remarking that it was a document he
had not looked at for many years. When the passages were found, the
minister said he did not believe that doctrine himself. But, he said, let
us look at the texts referred to. They sat down and examined these-
�12
•our relationship to these so-called Standards is not an honest
one; that the professed is not the actual creed of the Church ;
that our Church is professing one creed, while holding, and to
.a large extent preaching, another. What is our profession ?
Wliat is the theology of the Confession which is declared to be
.an exhibition of what is believed and taught in our Scottish
Churches ?
The Theology of the Confession.
The Confession teaches that God, for His own glory, has pre
destinated some men to be saved, but that all the rest of mankind
He has predestinated to damnation and everlasting torment in
hell. It teaches that while there is no fear of the elect, there
is no hope for the non-elect. It teaches that God has absolutely
and unchangeably fixed the very number, so that not one of
them can be brought over to the ranks of the saved, preach to
them and pray for them as you will. It teaches that none are
redeemed by Christ but the elect only. .It teaches that the rest
of mankind are not only unable to believe in Christ, and beyond
His power to redeem, but are brought into the world by God
utterly unable to help themselves. It teaches, indeed, that God
hardens them, withholding the grace by which they might have
been enlightened in their understanding and wrought upon in
carefully one by one; the result being that the minister declared that
not one of them gave the slightest support to the teaching referred to,
and that it was a shame that such doctrines should have been allowed so
long t<? remain in the professed standards of the Church. After talking
over other difficulties, the minister, perfectly satisfied with the elder’s
Scriptural orthodoxy, though Westminster heterodoxy, said, “We will just
receive you on your own Confession.” Which was done. The elder,
however, told Mr. Macrae himself that he was never easy in conscience
about it, feeling that, if he was right, the form of accepting the Confes
sion was wrong. We have this on Mr. Macrae’s own authority ; but
many others could be added, some of them from the very Presbytery
which has so strongly condemned Mr. Macrae for his crusade in the
interests of reform.
�their hearts. It teaches that by reason of the sin of Aclam,
apart from any fault of their own, they come into the world
wholly defiled in all the faculties and parts of soul and body,
utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to all good, and
wholly inclined to all evil. It teaches that because of this sin,
which they could not and cannot help, they are bound helplessly
over to the wrath of God and the curse of the law, and. so made
subject to spiritual, temporal, and eternal death. It teaches
that even in heathen lands, where they have never heard, and
therefore have had no opportunity of accepting the Gospel, they
cannot be saved, no matter how earnestly they may frame their
lives according to the light of nature, or the laws of that religion
which they profess. It teaches that if they do wrong it is sin,
and they are damned for it; and if they do right it is still sin,
and they are damned all the same. If they turn to the one
hand it is bad ; if they turn to the other it is worse. If they
obey the law of God it is sin ; if they disobey it, it is worse sin.
This is the doctrine of the Confession. Repent and turn to God
it is declared they cannot. They cannot even make an effort
that way; they are unchangeably predestinated to be damned.
And after death, according to our Standard, they are all cast
into hell, there to endure for ever and ever unspeakable torments,
both of soul and body, as long as God Himself shall exist. It
teaches that of the countless myriads of babes who have died
and are dying in infancy, only the elect are saved. For the
non-elect, young or old, it has no fate but the unending and un
speakable torments of hell.
Is this the Creed Preached or Believed?
I ask the fathers and brethren of this Presbytery to say
honestly if this is the theology they preach ? I ask members of
the U.P. Church to say honestly if that is the theology they
hear preached ? If not, then the Church is professing one creed
and preaching another. The moral of this is plain. If the
�14
'Church holds the theology of the Confession to be true, she
should abide by it and preach it. If she holds it not to be true,
-she should not profess it. No doubt there is a great deal in the
Confession that we all accept. The Confession contains some
•of the most admirable and concise statements of Scriptural
•truth that have ever been put into human language. But they
are nuggets in the Westminster quartz; they are pebbles im
bedded in the theology I have described. And in the form of
accepting the Confession, no distinction is made between what
is scriptural and what is unscriptural. Its truth and its error
are equally professed as part of our faith.
The
other
Churches Fettered
still more.
No doubt our Church (from a motive and with a courage that
■did her honour) not only put a brand on sections of the Con
fession that gave the civil magistrate authority in the domain of
•conscience, but relaxed for the whole Confession the terms of
-subscription. The Established and Free Churches require thenoffice-bearers to declare that they believe the whole doctrine
which the Confession contains, that they acknowledge the same
■as the confession of their faith, and that they will firmly and
■constantly adhere thereto.
In our Church, office-bearers are
only required to accept the Confession generally, as an exhibi
tion of the sense in which they understand the Scriptures. But
the courage of this modification was greater than its practical
value, for, if we consider it, the general sense is’worse than any
■of the individual propositions.
The “ General Sense ” Assailed.
The whole general sense of the Confession is deformed by the
omission from its theological system of the true character of
God as revealed in the Scriptures. The God of the Confession
is not the God of the Bible; and God’s character is the basis of
�15
all theology and of all Gospel preaching. Read the Confession,
and then read the Bible. Look on this picture, and on that.
In the one, God bringing countless millions of human beings
into the world utterly helpless, predestinated to everlasting
torment by God’s own free will. In the other, God having “ no
pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn
from his way and live;”—“not willing that any should perish,
but that all should come to repentance.” The Confession giving
by its general sense the picture of men pleading with an inexor
able God, struggling with an inexorable fate; the other giving
us the picture of God pleading with man, sending forth His
ministers as messengers of mercy, as though God did beseech
men by us, we, in Christ’s stead, praying men to be reconciled
to God. The Confession teaching that Christ redeemed the
elect only, that God effectually calls the elect only, that He
loves only the elect. The Bible telling us that “ God so loved
the world (not the elect, but ‘the world’) that He gave His
only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not
perish, but have everlasting life.” The Confession formally
admitting, but practically, by the inexorable logic of its system,
denying man’s free will, representing him as utterly unable to
turn to God or even make the effort. The Bible giving us the
picture of the prodigal son saying, “ I will arise and go unto my
father;” elsewhere saying, “Whosoever will, let him take of the
water of life freely;” and again, “ Ye will not come unto me that
ye might have life.” The general sense of the Confession is there
fore the worst of it. It gives us a different God from the God
of the Bible. No doubt it says in one place that God is most
loving and merciful, but epithets mean nothing when they are
belied by the thing described. It is vain to say that the
Deluge was harmless if you proceed to state that it destroyed
the whole human race except those who were in the ark. Much
even of the truth that the Confession gives about the character
of God it turns into misrepresentation, by separating it from
the totality of God’s being. It constructs almost its whole
�16
theology upon God’s sovereignty.
But, by severing His sove
reignty from the other attributes of His being, it converts the
heavenly Father, the holy and merciful God, into an arbitrary
and capricious despot..
Abuse
of
“ Texts.”
It is not enough that the Confession, in constructing the
dogmas on which such a character is founded, should be able to
appeal for authority to some isolated verse of Scripture. Unitarianism can do that, so can Romanism, so can Mormonism.
So can, and so does, every “ Ism ” in Christendom. We must
have the general sense, not of the Confession, but the general
sense of the Bible. If we are to have everything the Bible
supplies on the side of Calvinism, let us have along with it
what the Bible supplies against Calvinism. The Confession,
for some of its purposes, is too long already; but let us have it
double the length if it will give us the whole truth, rather than
have it leaving out half the truth, and in this way converting*
the other half into a lie. This would throw us back upon the
Bible ; and this is just what in the meantime is needed. We
shall there find the truths of the Confession, but find them, at
least, in their natural connection. We shall there, at least,
escape the misrepresentation caused by divorcing expressions
from the element of personality, and tearing texts away from
the profound relativity of Scripture.
How Casuistry is Used.
In saying all this, I am well aware that every doctrine in
the Confession, even as it stands, has been, or can be, defended
or explained away. But some of the casuistry employed for
this purpose is as discreditable as the doctrine it is used to
defend. For instance, the Confession says that “elect infants”
are saved.
The other side of the doctrine obviously is that non
�17
elect infants are cast into hell. This is not only a consistent
part of the Calvinistic system; it was not only in former days
admitted and preached; but within the memory of fathers and
brethren in this Presbytery, one of the most eminent ministers
of our Church was like to have been brought before the Church
Courts for denying it. When the Christian conscience of the
Church, educated and enlightened by fuller acquaintance with
the spirit of the Gospel, could no longer brook this doctrine, it
was first let alone and then practically repudiated.
There,
however, it remains in the Confession as a part of what we
profess to believe, only it is considered legitimate to explain it
away by saying that “elect infants” may mean “all infants.”
And so, by means of a quibble, all who die in infancy are
smuggled into security. Is that a shift worthy of a Christian
Church ? If we hold the doctrine of infant salvation, let us
avow it. If we think such a dogma would go beyond Scripture,
let us have no dogma on the subject at all. In any case, let us
be straightforward, and keep our creed in honest harmony with
our convictions. Let us not allow the character of our Church
for honesty to depend on the popular ignorance of our Standards.
Let us have a formula containing what we really believe; not
a formula containing what we don’t believe, and don’t need to
believe, in order to belong to the Church of Christ.
The Kind
of
Reform Required.
This brings me to the practical part of the motion I am
offering to the Presbytery. I am not advocating the revision of
the Confession for the purpose merely of altering or re-stating
certain points. I would let the Confession alone; but I would
have it put amongst historical documents, not retained as a
Standard. What we need is a brief formula, containing what
we regard as essential; the doctrines which every man, if he is
to be a member of a Christian Church, must believe. The
Confession is full of dogmas which a Christian man may hold
M.
B
�18
or not hold without its affecting his character as a Christian.
It contains articles which separate from us whole denominations
which we yet recognize as Christian denominations, and frater
nise with, preaching in their pulpits, and opening our pulpits to
them. Let us have a formula as liberal at least as our practice,
a formula from which everything is excluded that separates
from us those whom we recognize as Christian brethren—a
ground on which all Christian people could join us—a ground
on which all Christian Churches could unite or confederate.
And non-essential but distinctive principles let us put into a
separate category, which might serve as a denominational testi
mony.
This is Already Accomplished for Ordinary Members.
This would simply be carrying out on a large scale the prin
ciple which we already act upon in congregations. There we
have a common ground on which we unite, while (on other points
not essential to Christian fellowship) we retain our individual and
often conflicting opinions. How possible it would be to accom
plish the proposed reform were we thinking less of the theology
that sunders, and more of the religion that unites, is seen in the
fact that we have already in use in our Church, as a kind of
test creed for applicants to our communion, a brief formula that
might still stand revision, but one already about two hundred
times shorter than our present Standards, and as a doctrinal basis
two hundred times better. On that basis I have admitted into
my church at Gourock not only United Presbyterians but Free
Church people, Established Church people, Reformed Presby
terians, Baptists, Independents, Methodists, Evangelical Union
ists, and Episcopalians. Most of these would have been excluded
by the Confession of Faith; and yet we have found them true and
worthy members of our Christian brotherhood ; and the Church,
instead of suffering, has gained in every way by their admission.
If this be found a formula sufficient for Christian individuals, why
�19
-should we despair of framing a formula as short that shall be
sufficient for Christian denominations.
What, therefore, this
motion pleads, is not a mere revision of the Westminster Con
fession, but the preparation of a brief formula, excluding as far
as possible all mere matters of opinion, and points on which
Christian people can be allowed to differ—containing only those
points on which they may all be said to have agreed.
Advantageous Position of the United Presbyterian
Church for Action.
To the initiation of this important work, the United Presby
terian Church seems by her history and present position to be
specially called. We, as a Church, can look back upon a series
of courageous advances towards a wider and more Catholic union.
We have already modified our relation to the Confession by the
exclusion of certain sections, and by the terms in which we accept
the rest. We are free now from those negotiations with another
Church which so long embarrassed our discussions and impeded
the freedom of our action. We are not entangled, as the Free
Church is, with questions of Church property, and conservative
traditions. We are also free from any such compact with the
State as fetters the actions of the Established Church. We
have a right to alter our Standards when we please—a right
prescriptive as well as real. But the advantage this freedom
gives us over a Church established by law depends very much
on the use we make of it. Between a Church that will not
abolish a dishonest profession for want of courage, and a Church
that cannot do it for want of power, many will not see much to
choose. Let us show that we have, and that we value, our
liberty, by its exercise when duty calls for it. Let us show our
faith in the truth by practising it. Let us seek no favour, let
us value no alliance that depends on a false conception of what
we are—a conception produced by our pointing to Standards
that misrepresent our actual creed.
�20
“ Historical Identity.”
It is said that though our present Standards no longer repre
sent accurately the faith of the Church, yet, if we put them
aside, we shall destroy our historical identity. If our historical
identity depends upon a disingenuous profession, the sooner it
is destroyed the better. The apostle Paul was a child once, but
he did not consider it necessary for bis historical identity to
remain a child always ; when he became a man he put away
childish things. A growing boy does not lose his identity by
putting aside the garments that have grown too small for him ;
the boy’s identity is not in his habiliments, but in himself.
The Church is a living thing, not a formula. Its identity is in
itself, not in its confessions. And the true violation of historical
identity is for a Church that has grown to pretend that she has
not. Let us have a creed that fits us. Let us have a formula
that expresses our actual faith. Let us not delude ourselves by
supposing that we can serve the cause of truth by means of an
untruthful profession.
Conclusion.
I have spoken thus, fathers and brethren, out of a deep con
viction that the time has come when this question, difficult
though it be, must be courageously faced.
I believe this,
motion speaks the truth, and points out the best line for action •
and I believe that this reform is coming, whether with us or
over us, whether we are found on the chariot or under its
wheels. At the same time, I make this motion now ■with little
hope of its adoption, without the assurance that any one will so
much as give it his support. I know the peril to which any one
exposes himself here who, even to vindicate the word of God
dares to impugn the Confession; and though I have made up
my own mind to abide by the issue of this step, I have not felt
�21
at liberty to ask any brother to share the peril with me. But
Reform is coming, of that I feel assured; and, in the meantime,
trusting to the power and ultimate triumph of the truth, I offer
this motion to the Presbytery.
IV.—MR. MACRAE’S SECOND SPEECH BEFORE THE
PRESBYTERY.
Made on March 16th, in reply to the attack made upon his
First Speech, apparently with the object, certainly with the
effect, of evading the question raised by Mr. Macrae?s Over
ture.
After speeches by Mr. Inglis (Presbytery Clerk) and other
members of Presbytery, and a motion of censure moved and
supported by Dr. Hutton, Mr. Macrae said,—
Moderator,—It seems to me an ominous sign for our Church
that the important question raised at last meeting, and affecting
so much the interests of truth, and the character and prospects
of the Church, has not been more dealt with upon its own
merits; and that the motion urged upon the Presbytery at
last meeting has led to an attack upon the mover, instead
of leading (as many had hoped) to an attack upon the errors
and the abuses to which it called attention. I trust, how
ever, that even this discussion (personal to some extent
though it must in this instance be) will by and bye be
delivered from this element, and issue in a movement for the
liberation of our Church from an unscriptural yoke, and the
vindication of God’s character from the misrepresentations to
which our subordinate standards have subjected it. Much of
what has been said I hope to have a future opportunity of
answering. Much else that has been said of a personal charac
ter does not in a grave question like this deserve to be answered;
�22
and much more that has been said answers itself. There are,
however, two points which need reply, and which this is the
proper time for replying to. These relate (1.) To my own rela
tion to the Standards; and (2.) To my alleged charge against
the brethren.
“Why
not leave the
Church'?”
Neither Dr. Hutton nor the Presbytery Clerk (Mr. Inglis)
seem able to understand how I can hold the views I expressed
at last meeting and yet remain in this Church. Perhaps I will
be forgiven if I try to remove the difficulty by a reference to
Mr. Inglis’ own case. About twenty-seven years ago Mr. Inglis,
in the usual way, publicly accepted the Confession of Faith as
an exhibition of the sense in which he understood the Scriptures.
Six weeks since he told us that he had intended next year
moving to have the Confession altered. It appears, then, that
between 1850 and 1877 Mr. Inglis has found that the Confes
sion is not so true an exhibition of Scripture as at first he
thought it.
He should therefore be in a good position for
understanding how, during one’s ministry, increasing acquain
tance with the Confession on the one hand, and the Bible on
the other, reveal the fact that they are at variance, and should
therefore awaken a desire to have the human standard set aside
or altered. The principal difference is that Mr. Inglis seems to
have taken twenty-five years to learn what others learn sooner:
and that Mr. Inglis thought next year the best time for reform,,
while I thought the best time (and the only time we are sure
of) is now. Another difference seems to be that Mr. Inglis,
because I have found fault with the Confession, thinks I should
leave the Church; but that he, although he has also found fault
with the Confession, should stay where he is. The more ex
cellent way, to my mind, would be for both of us to remain, if
we may, and if we honestly can; and instead of abandoning
the Church, as many have done, try to make it better.
�Degree of Divergence.
Mr. Inglis may, no doubt, say that there is a great difference
in the degree of our divergence from the standards; that while
he only takes exception to special points in the Confession, I
have taken exception to its general sense. But how far this
distinction indicates a difference depends on what special points
Mr. Inglis takes exception to. If, for instance, the doctrine of
the eternal reprobation and everlasting future torment of all but
the elect is one of these points, it is one that affects to a vital
extent the whole sense of the Confession, and is conspicuously
the doctrine that distorts the character of God, and makes the
God of the Confession different from the God of the Bible. The
distinction in this case between Mr. Inglis’ objection to special
points, and my objection to tliej general sense, might prove
more imaginary than real. For me to propose to kill a man,
and Mr. Inglis to propose merely to remove his head and one
or two other points, would, to the man at least, mean very much
the same thing.
The Bible the Supreme Standard.
Apart, however, from any justification of my position from
the conduct of Mr. Inglis, or any other member of Presbytery,
the ground on which I vindicate myself, and all in the Church
who are seeking the same reform, is this—The supreme stan
dard in our Church is not the Confession, but the word of God.
The very first question in our formula declares that the Bible is
the “ only rule of faith and practice.” The Confession itself
appeals in its first chapter to the same standard (chap, i, sec.
9, 10). It teaches in section 9th that Scripture is to be inter
preted, not by Confessions or Catechisms, but by Scripture
itself. It teaches in section 10th that all religious controversies
are to be determined, and all decrees of councils, and doctrines
of men, judged, not by Confessions or Catechisms, but by
�24
the Bible. We, therefore, in this Church are not only entitled
to place the Bible above the Confession, but required by the
Confession itself, required by our own formula, so to do. If
therefore, like Mr. Inglis himself, we find in our study of the
Bible that the Confession is at variance with it, what are we to
do1? Some people say, “ Leave the Church.” By all means
leave the Church if it be a church of the Confession. But, if it
is a church of the Bible, as it declares itself to be, our duty is,
whenever we find the subordinate standards wrong, to get them
as soon as possible brought into harmony with the supreme
standard. This is precisely what I have tried to do. This is
what Mr. Inglis told us he also intended to do next year. And
if I and those who think with me have come to believe that
these subordinate standards belie the Scriptures and the scrip
tural character of God more seriously than Mr. Inglis thinks,
the more are we justified, the more are we bound to urge their
revision or their repudiation.
Rectify the Subordinate Standards.
Had John Knox been alive to-day he would not, with his
heroic loyalty to truth, have been afraid, like some of the
brethren, to face this question and put these standards to the
test.
His words in reference to his own Confession might
wisely be printed in the front of ours:—■“ If,” he said, “ any
man will note in this our Confession any article or sentence
repugnant to God’s Holy Word, that it would please him of
his gentleness and for Christian charity’s sake, to admonish us
of the same in writing; and we, of our honour and fidelity, do
promise unto him satisfaction from the mouth of God (that is,
from His Holy Scriptures), or else reformation of that which
he shall prove to be amiss.” Although this invitation, which
has in it the ring of loyalty to, and confidence in, the truth,
does not preface our Confession, it is implied in the dis
tinction between supreme and subordinate standards, and is
�25
practically given (as we have seen), in the words of our formula
and the declaration of the Confession itself. I have therefore
felt that duty did not require me, or those thinking with me,
to leave the Church while holding its supreme standard, but
rather imposed the duty upon us of endeavouring to get the
subordinate standards revised.
But (as a reason why views
hostile to the Confession should not be tolerated in the Church)
it is said, “ Though the Bible is the supreme standard, yet, the
Confession is accepted as an exhibition of the sense in which
we understand the Bible.” That is true; and but for that part
of the formula of acceptance I should have had no motion of
this kind to make, and no charge to bring against the Church
of professing one thing and preaching another. But what I
maintain is that the Confession no longer exhibits the sense in
which this Church understands the Scriptures.
This is so
manifest that, to my knowledge, some of our ministers and
office-bearers reconciled themselves to the acceptance of .the
Confession by saying that everybody knew that it was accepted
with great latitude. One said it was like subscribing a letter,
“Your obedient servant.” That, he said, was no deception,
because the person who got the letter understood that it was
only a form. If the understanding had really got that length,
nobody would object to this being explicitly stated, and I hope
no one would even wish so empty a form to be retained.
The Church’s Relationship to her Subordinate
Standards not an Honest one.
But the understanding, though extending in that direction,
has not got that length, and this painful dubiety as to what
subscription really means or carries with it, is of itself impera
tive reason why the Church should deal with the question. It
makes the Confession a stumbling-block, and keeps back from
the ministry many of our best and most conscientious students.
And it is well known that in all the Presbyterian churches it
�is becoming more and more a difficulty to get Christian laymen to
accept office as elders (1st), because they cannot honestly accept
the Confession; and (2nd), because not being able to accept it
honestly, they will not accept it at all. I have one case of an
Established Church in Glasgow which has fourteen elders, and
yet only one who can go to the Assembly, as the other thirteen
refused to sign the Confession of Faith. All honour to the
men who have consciences so true that they will not regard
acceptance as a mere form so long as it is not declared authorita
tively to be so. But what are we to think of the Church that
excludes such men by insisting on an unscriptural test?* I
know of elders in our own churches who (unable to take office
because they had no faith in certain doctrines of the Confession),
were “ talked over ” by their ministers, who assured them that
such faith was not necessary, and in some instances that they
did not believe the doctrines specified themselves. Is this a
state of things that ought for a single day to be winked at by a
Christian Church?
Does it not justify only too fully the
charge I have made, that our Church’s relationship to her
standards is not an honest one ? There are some defenders of
the Confession (specially, I think, amongst the ministers) who
seek to get over the sense of inconsistency by casuistical explana
tions and subtleties, which it is surely not creditable of the
Church to tempt or force them to. I was speaking to one of
our ministers lately about the doctrine of the Confession which
implies the damnation of non-elect infants.
“Oh, but,” he
said, “ I am not shut up to accept that view of it. The doctrine
* At a recent meeting in Glasgow, in connection with the Free Tron
Church, Dr. Walter C. Smith, the former pastor, came through from
Edinburgh to do honour to one of the ablest and most useful members of
that congregation (Mr. Morison), to whom a presentation was being
made that night. Dr. Smith said that no man in the Church was more
suited for the eldership by Christian character, experience, and ability,
and more calculated to be of service in the Church Courts, but he had
been kept out by the Confession of Faith. Mr. Morison is only one of
thousands of whom the same thing could be said.
�27
is so stated that I can. take out of it the sense that all infants
are elect, and, therefore, that all infants are saved.” He ad
mitted, however, that this was not the natural sense, nor the
common one until recent years. Now, if that clause makes it
legitimate for one man to understand by it that all infants are
saved, and equally legitimate for another man to understand
by it that most of them are damned, I say it is a mockery of
language to call that “ an exhibition ” of the sense in which we
understand the Bible. It is an exhibition of nothing but the
hypocrisy or imbecility of the Church that calls it so.
Is the Confession “ An Exhibition of the Sense ”
in which we
Understand the Bible1?
What I understand by an exhibition of the sense of anything
is a bringing of it out into clearness and certainty. What sort
of “exhibition” is it of the sense of Scripture to tabulate pro
positions out of which it is equally legitimate to extract the
affirmative and the negative—the assertion of a doctrine and
the denial of it. And when the Church begins to repudiate a
doctrine that by her Confession she still professes to hold, what
sort of “ exhibition” of candour and honesty does she give for
the imitation of the world when (charged with this inconsistency)
she tries to get over it by showing that the Confession may not
mean what it says, or that the proposition which is said to
“ exhibit” the sense in which we understand the Scriptures can
be made to mean one thing just as well as another? If this be
the way in which the Confession is to “exhibit” the sense in
which we understand the Bible, we shall want something else
next to give us the sense in which we are to understand the
Confession.
The Alleged “ Charge
against the
Brethren.”
I now come to the second charge made against me by Mr.
Inglis—viz., that I have brought an accusation against the.
�28
brethren, by alleging that the relationship of our Church to hei
subordinate standards is not an honest one. Properly speaking
this is not a charge against brethren individually, though it is a
grave charge against the Church as a corporate body.* Who in
the Church or Presbytery accept, and who reject, the charac
teristic doctrines of the Confession, I cannot tell. But this I
know, and this I think, is pretty generally known from books
and articles 'written by our ministers and elders, from sermons
preached, from addresses given at meetings, from admissions
freely made in conversation, in newspaper correspondence, in
articles in the U. P. Magazine, and speeches in the IT. P.
Church Courts, that the actual creed of the Church has out
grown and to some extent discarded its professed creed. One
Gospel is preached, while another Gospel (if Gospel it can be
called) embodied in the Confession, is professed. But as to the
amount of individual responsibility for the continuance of this
state of things it is not for me to judge. God alone knows who
in this Church adhere still to the theology of the Confession;
who (though now beyond it) have seen no way of bringing up
the standards to the new position : who again have done their
best; and who, on the other hand, with the power to mend
matters, have been content to let things alone. It is not for
me or any one else to fix individual responsibility. But a pro
fession belied by practice is called dishonesty, disingenuousness,
or hypocrisy. And when a Church as a corporate body is found
to be preaching one Gospel, while voluntarily continuing to pro
fess a different Gospel, the same terms are applicable to it. This
The dominant party in the Paisley and Greenock Presbytery seemed
unable (or unwilling) to understand this very plain distinction. Mr.
Macrae, about the same time, said at a public meeting, that we would be
disgraced as a nation if we were drawn into war to perpetuate the
infamous misrule of Turkey. If we were, this would be corporate not
personal disgrace; but personal disgrace would attach to those who might
have prevented it, but did not. The nervousness of the Presbytery
under Mr. Macrae’s charge of corporate dishonesty suggests the suspicion
that they feel themselves not individually blameless.
�29is not accusing the brethren individually. It is accusing the
Church as we would accuse a nation or an army—speaking of it
as a collective whole. But while I say this in my own defence,
and in defence of brethren here and elsewhere, it must be re
membered that every such effort as the one now being made
adds to personal responsibility. It brings the individuals who
resist reform into more of personal identification with the cor
porate or collective dishonesty which it is sought to remove.
Such is the position in which I stand with reference to the
charge of accusing the brethren.
The
real
Question to be Answered if the Charge
Dishonesty is to be Disproved.
of
And this brings us back to the real question at issue, which
I am sorry has not been kept more steadily in view, and
answered more satisfactorily, namely, Whether this accusation
against the Church is just or unjust. Is the actual creed of the
Church identical with the professed creed, or is it not ? Let us
courageously and frankly face this question. It is with sorrow
that I feel compelled to press it. And I submit, with all defer
ence, that the question is not whether the dogmas assailed have
not in them some elements of truth; or whether texts (some of
them unrighteously divorced from the context) may not be
quoted in support of them, as texts (so gathered) can be quoted
in support of every religious system (true and false) in the
country. The question is not what led to this or that dogma
being put into the shape we find it in, or whether as it stands it
cannot be understood in a sense different from its original and
plain sense; or how many other holes there are in the West
minster warren by which an ingenious reasoner, with sufficient
flexibility of conscience, can escape the consciousness of culpable
inconsistency. What needs to be known is this, whether the
dogmas of the Confession, specified in my former speech, are or
are not believed and preached in our Churches ? The Confes
�30
sion teaches as a fundamental doctrine the doctrine of Reproba
tion. Is that doctrine believed and preached by this Church,
or is it not ? The Confession requires us to hold that God has
of His own free will predestinated some men to everlasting death
—-that this indeed is the unchangeable destiny of the whole
human race outside of the elect—and the Confession requires us
by everlasting death to understand eternal and unspeakable
torments in hell. That is the doctrine which, according to your
standards, you profess. I want to know if it is the doctrine you
preach ? This is not a dogma aside from the main propositions
of our Confession. If Election is the warp, Reprobation is the
woof of the Westminster theology. The doctrine of Reproba
tion is fundamental. It could not possibly be otherwise, affect
ing as it does the whole system of theology. It determines the
character of God. It limits the work of Christ: it limits the
operations of the Spirit; it limits the sense and the sincerity of
the offers of the Gospel. It would consign countless millions
of the human race in every age to everlasting torment. Yet
this is the doctrine professed by our Church. I ask, is it the
doctrine preached? I have been a member of the United
Presbyterian Church for twenty years, and have attended its
churches in all parts of the country; but I have never (as far
as I can remember) heard any of our ministers preach this vital
part of their professed creed, while I have often, and especially in
recent years, heard them preach a Gospel which, as far as my
power of perception goes is utterly (thank God) at variance
with it. In the diviner truth which is preached, we all, I hope,
rejoice. But if we no longer hold this doctrine of Reprobation,
let us no longer profess to hold it. Let our profession be
brought into harmony with our practice. This is what I mean
by an honest relationship between a Church audits creed. We
all know, of course, that the Bible has its difficulties and ap
parent discrepancies. For these, however, as far as they belong
to God, we are not responsible. But when a formula is pre
pared to show the sense in which we understand the Scrip
�31
tures, for that we are responsible : and as often as our views of
Scripture change, so often should our standards be changed
to correspond. Why should we permit in theology a misrepre
sentation to which men in other departments of human know
ledge would not consent1? Scientific men, for instance, are
divided in opinion as to whether certain geological changes were
sudden or slow. They recognize the difficulty of settling the
question, and they accept facts even though unexplained. But
none of them on either side would accept as an “exhibition”
of his views a set of propositions on the subject which science
had outgrown, or propositions which could stand either for his
own view or its opposite—either for what he believed or what
he disbelieved. Yet that is the humiliating position into which
superstitious reverence for the Westminster Standards has
brought the Church to-day. It is surely time that this state of
things should be brought to an end.
The difficulties attending a re-adjustment of our relationship
to these so-called standards are admitted by all. But if they
were ten times greater than they are, better to face them in a
spirit of loyalty to truth and reliance on the promised aid of
God’s Spirit than remain longer in our present position, lying
open to the imputation of either not knowing what we believe,
or not having the courage to declare it.
A Fair Challenge.
I was warned, after what I said at last meeting, that a com
mittee might be appointed to deal with me. Would it not be
better to have a committee to examine first into the truth of
my charge ? There is the more call for this order of action that
the charge against me is of small account compared with the
charge which I have brought against the Church.
The
charge against me is that of denying the infallibility of
the Westminster divines.
The charge I have brought
against the Church is that of denying, by professed ad-
�32
lierence to these sulx>rdinate standards, the true and scriptural
character of Almighty God.
ought to be met.
the brethren.
This is surely a charge
that
I have been spoken of as an accuser of
Whether in being so I am rhrht or wrong
depends on whether I have accused them justly or unjustly.
At
last meeting I stated the fundamental dogmas of the West
minster Confession and Catechisms.
These dogmas are declared
by our formula of acceptance to exhibit the sense in which we
understand the Scriptures.
If. therefore, the members of this
Presbytery hold an honest relation to our standards, they
believe these doctrines and preach them.
ascertain if they do.
Let the committee
If they do not, then they are bound
either to get these documents altered or our relationship to
them re-adjusted, to remove the scandal of seeming to profess
one faith while preaching another.
open to this Presbytery now.
An even simpler course is
The dogmas in the Confession,
which I believe to be no longer held and taught by our Church,
are here before us.
It is open to the Presbytery to declare
that they do hold and do teach them.
If this be done, the
charge against these standards of Traducing the character of God
and misinterpreting His Word will yet remain, but the charge
of disingenuous profession will fall to the ground.
The Presbytery showing no disposition to accept the challenge,
Air. Macrae said—Then I beg respectfully to move: “ That a
committee be appointed to ascertain whether the charge brought
against the subordinate standards and against the Church’s
relationship to them be or be not well founded.77
The motion was seconded, but received no further support,
and Dr. Huttons motion of censure was carried.
�OO
V.—HOW ECCLESIASTICAL TORYISM WILL DEAL
WITH THE REFORM.
Immediately after tlie Presbytery meeting in March, Mr.
Macrae was lecturing in Perth. The chair was occupied by the
Kev. Robert Lyon, who introduced Mr. Macrae as having just
come “ from the seat of war.” Mr. Lyon said the Confession
had done good work in the past, and we should respect it.
But it should be altered to suit the truths of science. While
holding to the old landmarks, let us ask for light. Give us
light, as the old Greeks said, although it should slay us. He
then referred to the personal abuse with which, in the Paisley
and Greenock Presbytery, it had been attempted to stop the
movement, while he believed the members really felt that the
Confession ought to be amended.
Mr. Macrae, before beginning his lecture, said he had not
expected to hear the Confession of Faith referred to, but he was
glad Mr. Lyon had given him an opportunity of saying that,
notwithstanding the adverse vote in the Greenock Presbytery,
the Reformation now sought for would assuredly come. But
like every reform, it must encounter opposition. The Church
was full of tories and temporisers, who would try, first of all,
to mock the men and the movement down. When they found it
advancing in spite of mockery, they would assail it with all the
strength they had. When they found it still advancing, they
would search for a new standpoint to look at it from. Having-
found this new standpoint, and looked again at the reform pro
posed, they would welcome it with enthusiasm, and say it was
just the thing they wanted all along. One victory had already
been gained. It had been decided, even by that adverse vote
in the Paisley and Greenock Presbytery, that men could believe
in the Bible, even where it differed from the Confession, and
yet remain in the Church. But mere tolerance was not enough.
The whole doctrinal position of the Church required to be
M.
c
�31
rectified. The conflict for reform was only beginning. They
had heard the blast of the trumpet; they would by and bye sec
the battle ; and out of that battle he believed God's truth would
emerge triumphant.
VI—PUBLIC LECTURE AT GOUROCK.
In the end of March the following inquisition was presented
to Mr. Macrae, largely signed by members of his congregation
and others:—
Dear Sir,—Being interested in the important question which
you have raised in the Church, and throughout the country, with
regard to the Confession of Faith, we, the undersigned, believ
ing that the interests of truth would be served by your givinoa lecture on the subject, addressed more to the general Christian
public, do hereby solicit that, if willing to undertake this task,
you will please name a date when you could give such an address
in Gourock, and arrangements will be made accordingly.
In response to this requisition, Mr. Macrae gave the following
lecture on the subject, on Monday, April 2nd, to a large audi
ence, in his own Church.
The chair was occupied by Commissioner Wallace; and Mr.
Macrae was accompanied to the platform by Provost Miller and
the other members of his Session. After a cordial introduction
from the Chairman, who, amidst applause, expressed warm
sympathy with the movement,—
Mr. Macrae said:—
It gave me great pleasure to receive the requisition that
has led to the holding of this meeting, especially as the hope
of this Reform lies mainly with the Christian laity. The
grand old Reformation in Scotland was carried by the people.
To-day we stand upon the verge of another conflict, which
with the help of the Christian laity, should become another
Reformation.
�35
The Question that Underlies.
The question that in our Church stands in the front—-the
question of reforming the Standards—though a difficult, is not
in itself a very large one. But the question that lies behind it,
and with which it has a vital connection, is one of immense im
portance. It is the question whether the Church is a living or
a dead thing—whether it is a Church of the living God, or only a
Society for conserving Calvinism. It is the question of whether
Christianity is a formula or a force; a dogma or a life; the shib
boleth of a sect or a power for the regeneration of the World.
Let us not forget this in dealing with the present question of
our Standards.
The Value oe
the
Confession.
I am glad that one effect of this movement has been to create
a demand for copies of the Confession of Faith. Wo can all
rejoice in that. People will now read the Confession for them
selves, and will see with their own eyes how far the Christianity
of to-day has extended beyond those narrow lines. They will be
able to judge for themselves whether or not the assertion is true
that the professed is not the actual creed of the Church, that
the theology of the Confession is neither the theology of the
pulpit nor the pew, that these so-called Standards are deceptive
as indications of our position, and therefore should be set aside.
In saying that they ought to be set aside, I am speaking of
them only as standards—that is, as professed indications to other
churches and to the world of what we believe and preach. I
am not one of those who cry down the Confession as no longer
worthy of study. Because a man has proved unfit to conduct a
-campaign, it does not follow that he is not fit to occupy some
other post, or that his knowledge of military affairs may not be
of great service to the army. The Confession of Faith is one
of the most remarkable, and, in its proper place, one of the
�most valuable documents which the Church Las ever possessed.
It was prepared by an Assembly, called together in 1613 bv the
famous Long Parliament, and indnding some of the most
eminent divines of the time.
Although that dark and stormful
time (when men's ideas of justice, and merer, and sovereigntv
were very different from what they are now i. Las left its impress
upon the theology of the Confession and Catechisms, yet the
time in many respects was singularly favourable for the for
mulating of such views as were held by these men at that time
It was an age of keen discussion and controversy; and we find
the result of it in many of those delicate but important dis
tinctions which controversy alone can bring out.
The theologv
is. of course, Calvin's; but looked at in that light, simply as a
statement of Calvinistic doctrine, the Confession and Catechisms
of the Westminster divines remain unequalled.
Moreover,
their contents, for the most part. are clear and indisputable
statements of Bible truth, though they are often taken awav to
glorify false positions, like the golden vessels oi the Temple in
the p«alace of Belshazzar.
Even doctrines that exaggerate the
truth, and become to that extent false, were built up> in that
form as bulwarks against the errors of rhe rime, and can in this
way be explained even when they cannot be justified.
Altogether,
the Confession and Catechisms, though they deserve less idolatry,
deserve more study : and are likely for many generations to fur
nish help in Bible study, and in many departments of theo
logical inquiry.
UNPEOGRESSIVE STANDARDS NOT
FOR A PROGRESSING
Chlrch.
But all this is very diilerent from saying that they are fitted
to remain as the Standards of our faith, fitted to indicate either
what we believe or what we ought to believe.
It would be a
very strange thing (it would be for rhe Church a most dis
creditable thing) IF SHE HAD LEARNED NOTHING OF GOD FOB
�37
the last
two
centuries
; if Christian people have been
praying ancl preaching and working and searching the Scrip
tures, and living amidst the brightening light of science and
Providence and Christian experience, and yet in two hundred
and thirty years had learned nothing, had no acquisitions to
point to, had not advanced a step since the days of Prolocutor
Twisse and the Long Parliament. The supposition is as false
in fact as it is preposterous in conception. God’s Spirit has not
been working in the world for these two centuries in vain.
God’s providence has not been unfolding itself before the
Christian Church for two hundred years without teaching it
something of His character and of His ways that it did not
know before. The discoveries of science, the exploration of
Bible lands, the critical study of the language and literature of
the Bible, carried on with all the facilities that have been ac
cumulating in recent years, all this has not left the Church just
where she was.
On the contrary, in churches open to its
influence, it has been working a silent revolution.
It has
changed the aspect of theology. It has antiquated and to some
extent discredited the Calvinism of our Standards. It has
brought us to this, that the Westminster Confession is no
longer a true picture of our actual faith, can no more be taken
to represent our views of the Gospel than the government of
Charles the First could be taken to represent the government
of Queen Victoria,—can no more furnish a creed for the Chris
tian Church of to-day than the cycles and epi-cycles of the
Ptolemaic system furnish a creed for modern astronomy.
The Position of the U.P. Church.
It is a high honour to the Unite! Presbyterian Church that
alone, amongst the great denominations in Scotland, she has dis
tinctly although imperfectly recognized this change. She has
formally indicated that the Confession is unscriptural on the
subject of the Civil Magistrate. She has recognized that the
�38
estminster divines did not understand as well as we do now
the rights of Conscience. Accordingly, she has put the brand of
repudiation on all the sections of the Confession that would
give the Magistrate authority in sacred things, and by the very
terms of her formula allows her ministers and office-bearers to
throw overboard everything in the Confession that teaches, or
may be supposed to teach, persecuting and intolerant principles
in religion. Our Church, therefore, has already repudiated the
dogma of M estminster Infallibility. She has not only admitted
that we have a light to revise these standards; she has actually
to an important extent revised them. She therefore stands in
a peculiarly favourable position for going on with this work ;
and I wish to show you to-night that there is need for under
taking further and larger reform. Other churches are looking
on with interest; and success with us would clear the way for
them. Reform should, indeed, if possible, be carried on with
their co-operation. If it were, it would soon convert the Pan
Presbyterian Council from a benevolent farce into a majestic
machinery of reform and confederation. But if other churches
will not act with us, we should act alone. We have done so
already in the matter of the Civil Magistrate. We have scored
out of the Confession its heresies on that point. We have done
it independently of the other Presbyterian Churches in Scotland,
and we have gained by it. Let us go on with the reform—with them if they are willing, without them if they are not.
Some church must take the initiative; our Church, as we have
seen, is specially fitted for the task both by her past history
and her present position. To-night I am anxious to show reason
why it should be done.
Reasons of Reform—The Standards Too Long.
First of all, unnecessary length in the test-creed of a Church
is always a grave objection; and our Standards are not only too
long, but absurdly long, for the purpose we wish them to serve.
�39
It is not the mere number of pages and sections. Look into it
and see how closely compacted the doctrines are, and remember
that every doctrine limits the comprehensiveness of the Church.
Almost every section is like one of those ivory balls that the
Chinese carve with such marvellous ingenuity and skill. It
looks like one ball, but when you examine it you find inside of
it another, and inside of that another still, and so on till you
find that instead of one ball it is a dozen. So is jt with almost
every proposition in the Confession of Faith-. It is packed with
doctrines, each one of which involves to some one a new difficulty
to subscription. Now, what do we want with these standards at
all ? We do not want them to rehearse the Bible; for with all
deference to the Westminster divines, the Bible can tell its
own story much better than they. The purpose our standards
now are expected to serve is that of a bond of union—a some
thing to set forth the fundamental points on which we think it
necessary that we should be at one. Manifestly, therefore, we
should have in this bond of union as few points as possible—carefully excluding everything about which it is legitimate for
Christian men and Christian ministers to differ—everything
that might exclude those who, differing from us (or from
o'ne another) on this point or that, are yet loyal to Christ,
and agreed with us on the points essential to Church organ
ization. What then is to be thought of our retaining as a test
creed, such an enormous catalogue of seventeenth century dogmas
as we have in the Confession of Faith- ?■ Let me try to illustrate
the absurdity and mischief of it. Suppose Britain invaded by
a powerful enemy, and volunteers needed to fight for Queen
and country, as the Church needs volunteers to-day to fight for
Christ and LIis kingdom. What would we think if a long creed
wore drawn up, containing five hundred disputed points, which
every man must settle in the same way before he could be en
rolled? Questions about which loyal and competent men differ,
but which they must have one opinion about, or else be turned
back? What would we think if loyal and competent men
�40
were to be turned back, unless they were ready to declare upon
oath that the British uniform is better than any other—that
the kilt should never be worn except by real Highlanders—that
Wellington was a better general than Soult—that every enemy
killed in battle went to perdition? What would you say if men
had to accept a hundred things like that, or be rejected I
You would say—“ This is preposterous. What we want is
men loyal and fit for the work before them. These tests
keep out many of the very men we need. Men may differ on
these points and yet be equally fit for the service of the coun
try.” Precisely the same thing holds against the Confession
as a test for office in the Church. Amongst its hundreds of
dogmas, there are scores that may be true or false, that men
may believe or not believe, and yet be none the less loyal to
Christ, none the less competent for the Church’s work. Every
such proposition tends to repel from the Church those who
cannot accept it. Why then have it needlessly there?
Some
of the
Things that are Out of Place in
Confession.
a
Why have it down as an article of faith that it is a sin to
refuse an oath imposed by lawful authority ? A man may be a
Christian man and yet object to an oath under any circum
stances, on the ground that Christ said, “ Swear not at all; let
your communication be yea, yea, and nay, nay; for whatsoever
is more than these cometli of evil.” Why should it be laid down
as an article of faith that war is lawful? It is a matter of
opinion, not a matter of faith. If we believe it to be lawful,
so be it. But why keep everybody else out of the Church, as
our formula attempts to do, unless he holds the same opinion ?
Especially when Christianity is more against war than in favour
of it. Or why require a man to believe as a necessary article
of faith, that the Pope is the veritable anti-Christ and man of
sin? People may believe that, and yet see the absurdity of
�41
excluding from tlie Church a man who may be as much opposed
to Popery as himself, but who thinks ^tliat some other form of
anti-Christ is the one referred to in Scripture. Or why lay it
down as an article of faith that the world was created out of
nothing in six days ? The Scriptures do not teach this : and
science has shown it to be contrary to fact. Everybody can
understand how the Westminister divines blundered at this
point. Geology had raised no questions then to put them on
their guard and prevent them confounding Creation with the
work of the first “ day.” Yet there the absurd proposition
stands, exactly as it did then, just as if it had never been shown
to be unscriptural and false. There it stands undisturbed; and
every Established and Free Church probationer is required by
the formula, before he can enter the ministry, to declare this
notorious untruth to be the truth of God; and every United
Presbyterian to declare it (by his formula) to be an exhibition
of the sense in which he understands the Scriptures. Why
should men be asked, and asked by a Christian Church, to do a
thing like this? Why should they be asked to enter the
Ministry of Truth with a lie in their right hand, or compelled
to save their conscience by supposing, when such things are in
the creed, that subscription can mean nothing? When taught
in this way, that subscription does not bind them to one
doctrine, need we wonder that many see no reason why it
should bind them to any doctrine. Apart, however, from this
graver aspect of the question, why should points likelthese be
kept in our standards ? They are at the best mere matters of
interpretation and opinion, about which Christians may differ,
and which are therefore entirely out of place amongst articles of
faith, and terms of admission to the Church. Instances might
be multiplied, and while the Confession contains a single need
less proposition (not to speak of a hundred), it is to that extent
too long, and does mischief by increasing the number of Christian
men who cannot honestly accept it. No doubt Dr. Hutton
said he could read the Confession in fifty-two minutes. But a
�42
groat deal of objectionable matter, and a great deal of super
fluous matter can be compassed in much less than fifty-two
minutes. Dr. Hutton himself admitted that the Confession
contained more than it should. So did Dr. Andrew Thompson,
Dr. Peddie, and others, who spoke on the subject when the
matter was before the Edinburgh Presbytery as far back as
1866. So has every minister I have spoken to on the subject.
This, then, we may take to be a settled point—that the Confes
sion is too long—in other words, that much of what it contains
ought to be struck out.
Too Long, yet Omitting the Main Point.
But if these Standards err by excess, they err still more by
defect. They leave out the very thing that should have the
foremost place—the Gospel. Many of you may not realise
how true this is, because you have wisely been accustomed to
read the Bible, not the Confession; and even when reading the
Confession or the Catechism, to supplement it in your own mind,
with the Gospel. But no one left to these Standards would
ever have come to know the central truth of the Bible; and
yet it is the truth of the Bible which they are supposed to
exhibit. Everywhere in these Standards we see the King;
but we look in vain for the Heavenly Father. They give us a
telescope with which to survey the power and majesty, the
justice and severity of God, and also His love for the elect.
But when we want to see His love for the world, we find the
wrong end of the telescope turned to the eye, and the fore
ground of the Scriptures receding into infinite space and
invisibility. We are shown a terrific machinery for the rescue
of the elect; but where is the revelation of the Father’s love ?
Where are the precious offers of mercy to all 1 Where is the
Father’s heart yearning over His prodigal boy ? Where is the
love that melts the sinner’s heart 1 the love that has drawn ten
thousand to the Saviour, for every one who has been driven to
�43
Him by tlie fear of hell ? Where in these standards (volum
inous though they be) are the free offers of the Gospel ?—“ Ho,
every oxe that thirsteth, come ye to the waters.” “ The Spirit
and the Bride say, Come ; and let him that heareth sav, Come ;
and let him that is athirst come ; and whosoever will let him
take of the water of life freely.” “ God so loved the world
that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” “ Come
unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest.” Where, in the theology of the Confession, are
these free and glorious promises, these glad tidings of great
joy ?
Where is the revelation of a Father’s love and a
Saviour’s pity that has touched the heart of nations, that liasturned millions to God, that has kindled in the Church, within
the present century, the flame of missionary enterprise, and sent
the messengers of mercy into the slums of the city and away
to every heathen land ? Where is it in the Confession of our
Faith'? Echo answers where ? Of other things we liaveenough and to spare, and yet the best of all is wanting. It is
the Bible, with the heart cut out of it. It is the family, with
out its father. It is Christ dishonoured. It is God robbed of
His highest glory. Yet this is called the Confession of our
Faith, our exhibition of the sense in which we understand the
Scriptures. Is it not astounding that our Churches have
contented themselves with such a Confession so long ?—that
superstitious veneration for this Calvinistic idol should make
them shrink from the idea of removing even its acknowledged
defects 1
The Staxdards Distort God’s Character.
This brings me to the gravest charge against these Stan
dards, . namely, that they deform tlie character of God, and
instead of vindicating His ways to men, make them appearinconsistent, incredible, and, in some instances, revolting. I
�44
have already spoken of this in public, and will therefore say
little on this point now. But I would have you read Chaps.
VI, X, and XVI, of the Confession, and ask yourselves if
such doctrine can be reconciled with the character of God as
revealed by Christ. The meaning is unmistakable. It teaches
that God brings men into the world utterly disabled and made
opposite to all good, and then, having made them so, punishes
them as guilty for not being different.
This is a doctrine
utterly at variance with the divine character, revolting to the
moral sense which God Himself has implanted in the human
breast. It is established in morals that no man can justly be
blamed for what he could not help. If a man puts out his eyes,
he is to blame for not seeing; but if he is born blind, he is an
object of pity, not of blame. The man who would take a blind
child and beat her to death because she could not see, would
be regarded as a monster unfit to live. And yet we are
required by the 6th chapter of the Confession to believe that
this is God’s way with men,—bringing them into the world
incapable of doing right, and then sending them to hell for not
doing it! It maybe said, “The man by nature is disabled,
but God can give him strength.” But the Confession teaches
us, in Chapter V, that if the man be not one of the elect, God,
instead of helping, or being 'willing to help, blinds and hardens
him to make sure that he shall not be moved to come.
To
■speak of God as just and merciful, and yet charge Him with
this, is an insult to the human understanding. It is much the
same, in view of such dogmas, to speak of a man having free
will. For the elect have no choice but to be saved; and no
act of theirs is allowed to have anything to do with their
salvation. As for the rest of mankind, they are declared to
be sent into torment for them sins; but as it appears from
Chapter VI that they could not possibly do anything but sin,
it is evident that (according to the Confession) the only
freedom they have is freedom to go to perdition. To speak
■of free will in either case, is a mockery of language.
Pres
�45
ident Finney, in his grotesque lines, put the case only too
accurately:—
“You shall and you shan’t,
You will and you won’t;
You can but you can’t,
And you’re damned if you don't.”
Infant Damnation.
Again, the Confession teaches that elect infants dying in
infancy are saved. The other part of the doctrine necessarily
is that non-elect infants are damned.
There is no escapefrom this. If the meaning were that all infants are elect, why
was it not so put? No men were ever abler than the West
minster divines to state precisely and clearly what they meant.
But if we have any doubt about their holding the damnation
of non-elect infants, it is dispelled by their own statements.
Samuel Rutherford spoke of infants coming into the world
as “ fuel for hell,” and of children “ sinking and swimming
in the black lake.” * And Dr. Twisse, the Moderator of the
Assembly, held that “ thousands of infants are damned only
for sin original.” + But, indeed, the same doctrine was held
till recent years. To-day, I suppose, most ministers and Chris
tian people would recoil not only from teaching it, but from
being supposed to hold it. Yet there the clause stands un
touched in the Confession which our ministers are required
to accept as an exhibition of the sense in which we understand
the Scriptures, and which Established and Free Church min
isters have to subscribe to as the truth of God, and pledge
themselves to assert and maintain ! |
Again, in Chapter X,
*
an(i Triumph of Faith. Sermon 10th.
■ I Fessefe of Mercy and Vessels of Wrath, p. 135.
I The damnation of non-elect infants, though felt now to be unpresen
table to Christian congregations, is at the same time an essential part of
the Calvinistic system. It and the other doctrines stand or fall to
gether. Though some of our divines try now not to see this, Calvin saw
�4G
after speaking of the elect, the Confession teaches that for
the rest of mankind there is no salvation—no ray of hope even
for the heathen who have never heard of Christ, and therefore
have had no chance of accepting Him—that there is no mercy
even for those of them who did their very best to live up to
such light as they have. And where is it that they and all the
rest of mankind, non-elect, are going? According to the Con
fession, God is casting countless millions as fast as they die
into hell, there to be tormented with unspeakable torments
for ever and ever. And all this in accordance with His own
free will and predestined plan! Can we wonder that many
find it impossible to believe in God without first disbelieving
this? I know it is repulsive to you to listen to these details.
I know it is repulsive to me to utter them. But the fault is
not mine. I am giving simply the doctrines of what is called
the Confession of our Faith. If these docrines are revolting
it, and Calvin had the honesty to declare it. Hear what he says in these
same Institutes of his (Book 4, c. 15, sec. 10)—“Infants (he says) are,
as it were, a seed of sin, and therefore cannot but be odious and abom
inable to God.” Again (in Book 3, c. 23, sec. 7), he says, “How is it
that the fall of Adam involves so many nations, with their infant children,
in eternal elect,th without remedy, unless that so seemed meet to God.”
This is the doctrine implied in what is said in the Confession about
“Elect infants,” and the Westminster divines themselves have some of
them removed all doubt about it. Dr. William Twisse, the moderator of
that Assembly, in his work on the Vessels of Mercy and Vessels of
Wrath, speaks of it (in p. 135) as consistent with the character of God
that “thousands or even all the Infants of Turks and Saracens dying in
original sin, should be tormented by God in hell.” These are his own
words ; and again (in p. 195) he speaks of the fall of infants in Adam
as “ tending to the manifestation of God’s justice in their damnation.”
And yet to keep up faith in an incredible system, the logic_of Calvinism
as applicable to infants, is covered up or denied. The Westminster
divines knew their own system, and they saw that it involved necessarily
the damnation of infants—of infants who never sin. Nor indeed can
one see more injustice in inflicting the torments of hell upon infants who
have never sinned, than upon adults who, though they have sinned, did
so out of necessity, and could not have done otherwise.
�47
to the moral sense that God Himself has given ns, Why should
we have them retained in our standards as what we are sup
posed to believe, and teach, and speak of as the Gospel? The
retention of standards setting forth such doctrines as I have
referred to, is not only unjustifiable when the Church has
come to hold a higher and more Scriptural faith, but is doing
great injury to the Church itself, and to the progress of true
Christianity. It has, I believe, turned many away into infi
delity. It proves increasingly a great stumbling-block in the
way of the young. It prevents many of the best men in the
Church from entering either the ministry or the eldership.
It has retarded in a most serious degree the progress of Christian
theology.
Progress of Theology Retarded, or
Tampered with.
else
Conscience
Look at the progress made in the arts and sciences. Men
there are free. They do not need to bind themselves to the
ideas or rules that prevailed a hundred years ago. Where
would medical and surgical science have been to-day, had our
graduates, before entering the profession, been compelled to
pledge themselves to conform to the practice of last century?
What would the effect be if astronomers were compelled to sign
their adherence to the system of Ptolemy to-day ? Either they
would have to sacrifice honesty to truth,—professing Ptolemy,
and preaching and practising Copernicus; or they would have to
sacrifice truth to honesty, and try to explain the phenomena
of the planets and stars in accordance with an exploded system.
This is very much the dilemma in which the Church, by main
taining her present standards,’jkeeps her ministers. And when
her ministers, by way of being faithful to the human standards,
refuse to see anything outside of Calvinism, people say, “ There
is no progress—they are behind the age—they are allowing the
power of the pulpit to decline.” If by way of being faithful
�48
to the Divine standard they go out into the larger truth, they
are then charged with dishonesty, and told that they should
leave the Church! Need we wonder that our churches have
been so infertile in theology, and that we have to depend
so much for fresh thought and new light upon men outside
of our own pale ?
Put
the
Confession Aside.
The practical question now arises:—If our Standards are so
ill suited either to the creed or to the wants of the Church
to-day—what is to be done? I am not in favour of mere
revision of the Confession. I think we owe it to the West
minster divines to let it alone. It is valuable as a historical
document. It represents their views; it cannot be made to
represent ours. It has a unity of its own as it stands. To
put the Gospel into it would be putting new wine into an old
bottle. It would burst it. Revision would be the most difficult tiling to do, and the most disappointing thing when done.
It would spoil Calvinism without giving us Christianity. It
would spoil the Confession for what it is, without making of it
what the Church requires. No mere revision will convert a bow
and arrow into a Henry-Martini; or an old donjon keep into a
good church. These Westminster documents should be kept as
they are, but simply as works of reference—not as standards.
What we need is a brief and simple formula, containing essentials
and points which might be made a basis of confederation or
union with other churches. Dr. Guthrie used to declare, that
everything indispensable for a Christian Church to hold could
be written on a sheet of note-paper. If distinctive principles
need to be exhibited, let them be put in the form of a separate
testimony approved by the Synod, and] presented to, but not
necessarily subscribed by, our office-bearers. Par too much
importance is attached to outward tests, and far too little to
inward life. The living spirit of a denomination is a better
�49
guarantee for unity than any mere outward creed. We see a
proof in our own Church.
Our Church has reprobation in her
formula, but that has not kept it in her faith. Voluntaryism
is not in her formula, but she has it in her life. As to the best
substitute for our present standards, opinions will differ; but
let us at least get the existing evil removed.
Ecclesiastical Toryism
and
Timidity.
People who cannot deny that reform is needed, but who
shrink from attempting it, will say that the question should be
let alone in the meantime—that opinion is not ripe for change.
Then let us ripen opinion.
“Not yet,” is the old cry of
those who want nothing done at all. Eleven years ago, in the
Edinburgh Presbytery, one of the leaders of our Church declared
that the time had arrived when something should be done.
But these eleven years have gone by and nothing has been
done. Forty years ago, an elder spoke to the late Dr. Young
of Perth about the Confession, complaining of the unscriptural
character of some of its dogmas. The Doctor said it certainly
ought to be revised, but the time had scarcely come. The same
thing is said to-day : the same thing -will continue to be said
till the Church, awaking to her duty and her danger, takes
reform into her own hand. Too long has our Church preached
the Gospel under a kind of protest in the presence of her own
standards. Too long has she permitted the Calvinism of the
Confession to distort her views of God, and criminate instead
of vindicate His ways with men. Too long has she allowed
these Standards to present to other Churches and to the world
a false view of her own faith and character. Too long has she
allowed them to stand where they do; excluding some of her
best and most devoted sons from the work for which they
are needed, driving many from her pale altogether, hindering
fellowship and union with other sections of Christ’s people, and
retarding her own development and the progress of hei’ missionM.
D
�50
ary work at home and abroad. Our formula seeks to protect
us from the intolerance of the civil magistrate. But there is
no intolerance so enslaving as false and degrading views of
Almighty God. We must know the truth, for the truth alone
can make us free. But how can we hope for higher light if we
will not receive and openly acknowledge the light that has
already been vouchsafed to us. It is time that Christian
congregations should speak out and agitate for reform. We
cannot have it without an earnest effort, perhaps a protracted
struggle. Everywhere, those who take the first step must be
prepared to face insult and abuse, antagonism and perhaps
persecution. But the liberation even of our own Church for
the great work to which God is calling her is worth the suffering and all the possible sacrifice. And though baffled this time,
and perhaps again and yet again, success will be achieved if we
are loyal to the truth.
“For freedom’s battle once begun,
Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son,
Tho’ baffled oft is ever won.”
VII.—LAST SPEECH BEFORE THE PRESBYTERY.
At a special meeting of Presbytery, held in the beginning of
April, a letter from Mr. Macrae was read, giving notice that he
would ask the Presbytery to transmit, in the form of a personal
overture, the one anent the Standards, which the Presbytery
had declined to accept as its own.
Notice was also given of an overture from his Kirk-Session,
which Mr. Macrae was appointed, in the event of its being sent
on, to support at the bai' of the Synod.
When the Presbytery met, on April 17th, the Kirk-Session’s
overture was considered first; and, notwithstanding an effort on
the part of the Clerk to stop it, the Presbytery, after con
siderable discussion, agreed to its transmission.
�51
Thereafter the personal overture came on, ancl Mr. Macrae
began his argument in support of his application to have it
transmitted. But he had not gone far when some members of
Presbytery, perceiving that he was opening out for another
attack, protested against his being allowed to proceed. The
Presbytery sustained the objection, and Mr. Macrae’s speech
was accordingly suppressed. His notes, however, were ob
tained, along with his consent to their publication. We are
.accordingly enabled to append entire his Reasons for dissenting
from the judgment of the Presbytery, and for wishing the
matter carried to the Synod. They are reasons which not only
vindicate his original position, but constitute a new argument
for agitation and reform.
The Speech.
Moderator,—I should like (if permission be given me) to state
in detail my reasons for soliciting that this Overture, though
not adopted by the Presbytery, should be transmitted now as a
personal one. First of all, it seeks a reform for which there is
an imperative call, and for which I believe our Church at large
is prepared—namely, the Reconstruction or Revision of our
Doctrinal Standards. In the second place, it gives adequate
reason for this reform—namely, that our present Standards err
notoriously, both by excess and by defect, failing to present the
Gospel in its fulness, and, on the other hand, containing number
less propositions which are entirely out of place in a confession
of faith—propositions which need not be believed by Christian
people; and are, in point of fact, rejected (many of them) by
multitudes of Christian people, and by whole Christian denominations.
These articles are therefore schismatic, tending to
perpetuate and to multiply sectarian differences. Even within
our own denomination these articles are so many additional and
gratuitous difficulties in the way of honest and thoughtful men
accepting the Standards. And, in point of fact, they are
keeping out of the eldership men who ought to be in it, and
�52
whose services are urgently required.
They are turning good
men away from the ministry. They are repelling many from
Christianity itself, by presenting it in a repulsive and unscriptural form. Moreover, as the overture indicates, these
Standards do injustice to the Church’s faith.
The Church
believes in man s responsibility. The Standards represent his
condition as such, both by nature and predestination, that
responsibility becomes a fiction, and the imputation of guilt an
aspersion on the justice of God, and an outrage on the common
sense of men. The Church believes that Christ came to be the
Saviour of the world. The Standards teach that He cam e only
to save a certain number called the elect. The Church believes
that a bona fide offer of salvation can be made to all; while the
Standards lay down dogmas of election and reprobation which,
carried out to their logical issue, make the offer of salvation
either a superfluity or a mockery—needless to the elect, who
cannot possibly' be lost; a mockery to the non-elect, who cannot
possibly be saved. For, to suppose one of the elect lost, no
matter how indifferent the Church might be; or to suppose a
single one of the non-elect saved by any effort the Church
might make, would be to suppose the decree of God with
reference to that man overturned; whereas, the Confession
declares that decree to be immutable, and the number of elect
and non-elect so certain and definite that it cannot be either
increased or diminished (chap, iii, 4). It seems to me sufficient
reason for asking this overture to be transmitted, that it urges,
the Synod to put an end as soon as possible to these and other
flagrant inconsistencies between the Creed we are required to
profess, and the Creed we are permitted and expected to
preach.
Another reason is, that the overture was never discussed upon
its merits. The overture contains very damaging assertions,
which the Presbytery did not attempt to disprove' and suggests
and pleads for a reform which the Presbytery has not shown to
be either needless or impracticable. If, therefore, there was
�53
reason for bringing the overture to the Presbytery at all, there
is the same reason now for asking j\its transmission to the
Synod.
The reason has, to my mind, been strengthened instead of
weakened by the way in which the whole matter was dealt
with by most of those who spoke in the Presbytery. The
great object seemed to be to get the movement suppressed.
Those who thought abuse would do, tried abuse. Those who
knew better, advanced as reasons for letting things alone, what
should rather be reasons for action and reform—-betraying, as
they did, anxiety to evade the point at issue, a feai- to look
facts in the face, a desire to extenuate and conceal the evil
rathei’ than have it removed.
Is the Question one of mere Words?
Dr. Hutton, for instance, in dealing with the glaring incon
sistencies shown to exist between the Church’s professed creed
on the one hand, and the Bible and her actual creed on the
other, sneered at them as “metaphysical and microscopical.”
He spoke as if the whole thing amounted to this, that the
Westminster divines had “failed sometimes in the choice of
their expressions !” But the difference between a Saviour for
the world and a Saviour for a few elect persons is not a micro
scopical difference. The difference between ability and inability
is more than merely metaphysical.
The difference between
punishing men for wilful wrong-doing, and damning them to
everlasting torment for doing what they could not help, is not a
microscopical difference. The difference between a God who
wants men to come to Him, and a God who, while entreating
them to come, has all the time determined that they shall not
come; between a God who willeth not that any should perish,
and a God who decrees that all shall perish except a favoured
few—this is not a difference that .can be accounted for by
mere “failure in the choice of expressions.”
�54
It is a difference between sincerity and hypocrisy; between
justice and injustice; between the sovereignty of a capricious
despot and the sovereignty of a Heavenly Father. And this.,
as far as it goes, is just the difference that distinguishes Chris
tianity from Calvinism; that differentiates the God of the Bible
from the God of the Westminster Confession. Dr. Hutton’s
way of explaining the difference is insulting to the framers of
the Confession as well as contrary to the facts of the case.
Failure in the choice of expressions is one of the last charges
that can be brought against the Westminster divines. What
ever their other faults were, and they were not few, these divines
were masters of expression, and expressed their meaning as
clearly and accurately as the nature of the subject and their
own knowledge and agreement about it permitted. The fault
is not in the expression, but in the thing expressed.
The Distinction between Predestination and
Fore-ordination a Mere Fiction.
But if these differences are neither metaphysical nor micro
scopical, Dr. Hutton brought forward something himself that
may very accurately be so described. This is the distinction
between fore-ordaining and predestinating—a distinction by
means of which he hopes to deliver Calvinism from the dogma
of reprobation.
But Dr. Hutton cannot produce an effect
without a cause, or accomplish much with a distinction where
there is no difference. If God fore-ordains that a man shall be
lost, nothing by any possibility can save him. The means of
his perdition are equally fore-ordained and as unavoidable and
irresistible as the end. Speaking of the man’s fate as “ pre
destinated” could not make it a whit more certain—could
not involve it more deeply in divine causation—could not make
it more impossible for the man (or for anything that can be
done for him) to avert. It is moreover a distinction utterly
repugnant to the Calvinistic conception of God’s purpose. Let
�55
us hear what Calvin himself says—and Calvin knew his system
better than Dr. Hutton. In his Institutes of the Christian
Religion (book iii, c. 21, sec. 5) he says, “ By predestination
we mean the eternal decree of God, by which He determined
with Himself whatever He wished to happen.” [Observe here
that, with reference to the sinner’s death, which is about
to be spoken of, God is made to “wish” it.]
Calvin
proceeds:—“ With regard to men, all are not created on equal
terms; but some are fore-ordained to eternal life, others to
eternal destruction. And, accordingly, as each man has been
created for one or other of these ends, we say that he has
been predestinated to life or death.” What then are we to
think of Dr. Hutton declaring that Calvinistic predestination
does not apply to the lost?
The Synod of Dort declared, in its deliverance on predestina
tion, that God, by an absolute decree, has elected to salvation a
very small number of men, and appointed all the rest of man
kind, by the same decree, to eternal damnation, without any
regard to their infidelity or impenitence.
And the first
Moderator of the very Assembly that framed our Confession of
Faith said, that—“ As for the reprobates, we should, if we
knew them, no more pray for them than for the devils them
selves.” And, in his Commentary on Romans 9th, that
eminent expounder of Calvinism, John Piscator, speaks of the
predestination of God as that “ by which He elects some men to
everlasting life, and reprobates others to eternal death.” And
yet Dr. Hutton would have us believe that Calvinistic pre
destination has no reference to the lost!
If Reprobation Disbelieved, Why Professed?
One thing about Reprobation, I was glad to hear Dr. Hutton
say. He said there was no such doctrine in Scripture. That
admission it is important to have.
But if reprobation is not
in Scripture, why have it in our Creed ? If Dr. Hutton says
�56
it is not there, he knows at least, that the mass of people
believe it to be there. Why, then, not make our position
clear? If our Church rejects that dogma, let her at once
declare it. Why wait before doing our duty till other Churches
are willing to do theirs? Joshua said, whatever others do,
“ As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Our
Church has done this in regard to one important point already.
She has freed us from the suspicion of holding, as a Church,
that the civil magistrate has authority in sacred things. There
are plenty of people who say (just as Dr. Hutton said about
reprobation) that the Confession, fairly interpreted, does not
really grant the civil magistrate that authority. But our
Church has not contented herself with the shelter of a doubtful
interpretation.
She has come out explicitly.
Nor has she
waited till other Churches were willing to act with her. She
has acted independently; and by her honesty and independence
has gained in influence, gained in self-respect, and gained in the
esteem of other Churches. Why has she not dealt in the same
way with reprobation ? Are false views of God less mischiev
ous—-are they to be tolerated longer—than false views of the
civil magistrate ?
The Confession logically Makes God the Author of Sin.
Mr. Inglis, however, seems to think that on at least one vital
point there is escape sufficient in the contradictions of the Con
fession itself.
He was astonished that I quoted the West
minster dogma that God has “ freely and unchangeably ordained
whatsoever comes to pass,” without quoting the clause “ yet so
as thereby neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence done
to the will of the creature.” This clause might be quoted to
show that the Westminster divines recoiled from the conclusion
of their own argument—that, like some divines amongst our
selves, they were better than their own creed. But a conclusion
that follows logically from the premises cannot be invalidated by
�a verbal protest.* If we say that God has established through
out the material universe the law of gravitation, it is vain to
add “ yet so as not to be responsible fox- the moon gravitating
towards the earth, or the earth gravitating towards the sun.”
And if it be laid down as a dogma that God has fore-ordained
whatsoever comes to pass, and has therefore fore-ordained every
sin, and everything that leads to sin, it needs more than a
caveat to keep us from the conclusion that God is responsible
for sin. This becomes more manifest when we turn from the
dogma of God’s fore-ordination to the correlative dogma of man’s
inability. It is vain to say that no violence is done to the will
of the creature when a dogma is laid down which practically
denies to the creature any will at all. The Confession teaches
that man “ in consequence of the fall, has wholly lost all
ability of will to any good accompanying salvation.” If that
be the case, why do we urge men to accept salvation, and
warn them of the consequences if they don’t 1 How can they
accept salvation if they have lost all ability of will in that
direction ?
There is no use crying to a drowned man to
catch a rope.
If man has no ability, he has no respon
sibility—no ability to respond to.
The Confession declares
that we are born in this state, “ disabled and made opposite to all
good and wholly inclined to all evil” (ch. vi, sec. 4). If so, man
is guiltless. He is depraved, but not to blame for it; he was
“ made ” so. He does wrong, but he cannot help it. If he
does not repent—if he does not accept the offer of salvation,
who can blame him, if he has “ lost all ability of will to any
good accompanying salvation 1 ” Like the man lame from his
* Mr. Macrae had, in the very speech to which Mr. Inglis referred,
anticipated and answered Mr. Inglis’ criticism, though Mr. Inglis seems
not to have noticed it. He said in that speech that epithets meant
nothing when contradicted by the character of the thing described. “It
is vain to say that the deluge was harmless, if you proceed to state that
it destroyed the whole human race, except those who were in the ark ”
(p. 15.) The same argument is now applied to the special clause quoted
by Mr. Inglis.
�58
mother’s womb' he is an. object of pity, not of blame. On this
theory, Aclam’s sin was the only sin. There has been no actual
sin since.
Adam was “ made ” able to do right but did
wrong.
All others do wrong, being utterly unable to do
right. But even as regards Adam, if God has decreed whatso
ever comes to pass—if He “ determined with Himself,” as Calvin
says, “ whatever He wished to happen with regard to every
man,” then He determined that Adam should eat the forbidden
fruit, and it was impossible for Adam to do anything else.
Dr. Hutton thought my objections to the Confession im
plied defective views of man’s sinfulness.
Misconception
there would be perilous indeed.
But if the view that
man, though fallen, has not so fallen as to have lost all
ability, and therefore all responsibility,—-if this implies a defec
tive conception of man’s sinfulness, what are we to think of
Dr. Hutton’s view—the view of every consistent Calvinist—in
logical accordance with which man, being utterly disabled and
helpless, cannot be said to sin at all, and the whole responsi
bility of human conduct is thrown back upon the good pleasure
and irresistible determination of God. This accords with the
system of the Confession,* but is at variance with the Bible.
The Confession and the Marrow Controversy.
Another point urged in the Presbytery, in defence of the
present anomalous state of things supplies, on the contrary,
another argument against it. It was urged that ever since the
* Piscator says, “Man sins necessarily” (Resp. ad Vorstii, i, 220).
Hodge says, “Sin is fore-ordained.” “The reason why any event occurs
is that God has so decreed” {Syst. Tlieol., i, 544, 537). The President of
the Westminster Divines, who framed the Confession, declares that
“Everything done by men, be it good or bad,” comes to pass “by the
efficacious decree of God who doeth all in all” {Doctr. of Synod, <L-c., p.
73). Calvin says that “God determined with Himself whatever He
wished to happen in regard to every man.”
�59
Marrow Controversy no minister of our Church need hesitate to
preach Christ as the Saviour of the world. But our formula
makes no exception in favour of this great truth of the Gospel,
and the Confession of Faith excludes it. In chapter viii, sec. 8,
it is said that, “ to all those for whom Christ hath purchased
redemption, He doth certainly and effectually communicate
the same.”* If, therefore, Christ died for all, all must be
saved. This doctrine of the Confession, if yoked with the
Gospel, carries us to Universalism, to which the whole
theology of the Confession is opposed. So hopeless does it
seem to preach the Gospel without destroying Calvinism—to
accept the Bible without discrediting the Confession of Faith.
The very admission that we preach a salvation which the Con
fession denies, and which our formula makes no exception in
favour of (and if no exception is needed, why have we the one
about the civil magistrate?) is another proof that the relation
of our Church to her creed is not an honest one, and demands
immediate reform.
Disavow
what is
Disbelieved.
The Presbytery will thus see that the reasons for urging this
reform on the attention of the Church remain in undiminished
force. We have a creed of which nobody knows how much we
believe and how much we disbelieve. We have a creed which
is declared to exhibit the sense in which we understand the
Scriptures, while everybody knows, and most of us confess, that
to a greater or less extent we understand the Scriptures in
a different sense. This state of things is surely not a reputable
* Dr. Cunningham, in his Historical Theology (ii, 329, &c.), says,
“ This statement contains, and was intended to contain, the true status
quaestionis in the controversy about the extent of the atonement.” It
was intended to teach “that all for whom these blessings were ever
designed or procured, do certainly receive them ; or, conversely, that
they were not designed or procured for any except those who ultimatey
partake of them. ”
�60
one for a Christian Church? To be satisfied with it is dis
honour; to desire a change, and yet be afraid to make it, is
cowardice; and to say that the Church is not competent for the
task is to confess incredible imbecility as well as disbelief in
the presence of the Divine Spirit.
If the Church cannot on some points set down what she
believes, it would surely not be difficult to set aside what
she disbelieves.
If she disbelieves what the Confession
teaches, or is “ supposed to teach,” about infant damnation,
and the doom of the heathen, she is surely not incompetent
to say so. If she does not believe what the Confession teaches
about man in his natural state, being not only fallen but made
incapable of a single act that God can approve, made opposed
not only to much but to everything that is good, and inclined
not only to much but to everything that is evil: if she does not
believe what the Confession teaches about Christ having died
only foi’ the elect; about the non-elect being all doomed irrevoc
ably to eternal death; and about eternal death signifying
unspeakable and everlasting torment in hell—she can surely
put them aside; she is surely not so helpless and incompetent
that she cannot even discard what she has come to discredit as
inconsistent with the true teaching of Scripture, with common
sense, and with her experience of the ways of God. Even if
she has not come to disbelieve such dogmas, yet if she does not
regard their belief as indispensable to Christian faith—if she
recognizes as Christians many who reject them (which she does)
she is surely called upon to remove them and is surely competent
to remove them, from the category of essentials. Nor would
it be a task transcending the ability of the Church to gather out
from the Confession, and set aside along with these, all other
articles which, whether true or false, believed or disbelieved, are
out of place in a creed for the whole Church—a creed which
is not meant to contain the truths about which Christians may
differ, but only those upon which it is considered indispen
sable that Christians should be agreed. By the time this
�61
process was complete, we should probably find the Westmin
ster Confession no longer recognizable; and would see it better,
if a Confession of this kind were necessary at all, to have a new
one altogether.
What in Place of the Confession?
This brings me now to the final reason for desiring that the
overture, though not adopted by the Presbytery, should be
transmitted to the Synod. It makes a practical suggestion to
meet a practical difficulty. It does not propose a mere revision
of the Confession, and an attempt to bring it article by article
into harmony with the actual faith of the Church. This would
raise countless, perhaps insuperable, certainly uncalled for,
difficulties. The overture suggests a way in which this could
be avoided, and a result attained that might meet the different
views that are held with regard to the amount of doctrine
that a church should officially endorse. Some are of opinion
that what we want is the briefest and simplest creed possible,
consistently with a presentation of the essentials of our faith
—such a creed as would remove the needless difficulties which
our present creed puts in the way—such a creed as might
at the same time form a basis of union or confederation with
all Christian Churches throughout the world. Others, again,
feel that it is important for us to have our distinctive
principles kept prominently in view, not only to educate
and unite our own people, but to show others our denom
inational position, and let these principles have their proper
influence upon the world. The overture suggests a way
in which both ends might be gained. It suggests that the
binding creed should contain only what are and may continue
to be deemed the essentials. It suggests that, apart from this,
there should be drawn up a list of subordinate and dis
tinctive principles, in the form of a testimony, which might
be periodically revised and approved by the Synod, and which
�62
would show forth the general attitude of the denomination
towards the various questions to which it might be thought
desirable to refer. This would be doing with some degree of
completeness what is actually done for isolated questions like
Disestablishment by every Synodical vote.
In this way the essentials of Christian faith would be
separated from what is merely denominational; and matters of
private interpretation and individual opinion would be kept out
of the Church’s creed altogether.
By any Method let the Evil be removed.
It is of secondary importance, however, the mere method
which the Synod might deem best for the rectification of her
doctrinal position. The great point is to get the Church to
look earnestly at this whole question, to ascertain if it be not
the case that the antiquated creed which she continues to
profess, mistakes in many important points the true teaching of
Scripture, distorts the character of God, and misrepresents the
actual faith of our Church. If so, the duty of the Church is
plain and imperative.
I would be glad, under these circumstances, if the Presbytery
could see its way to transmit my overture in the following
form :—
“ That the time has come when the Standards of our Church
ought to be revised. That they are too long and too intricate,
and defeat the very object of their length and minuteness by pre
venting the members of the Church from becoming acquainted
with them. Further, that, with all their voluminousness, they
probably omit more than one thing which they ought to contain,
and certainly contain a great many tilings which they ought to
omit—mixing up matters of opinion with matters of faith,
separating Christian Churches from one another, multiplying
difficulties in the way of a Catholic union, and hindering in a
variety of ways the progress of Christ’s kingdom. That even
as regards the Church’s own relation to its creed, two hundred
years of research and experience have developed differences be
�63
tween the professed and the actual faith of the Church, and
that the spectacle of a Church professing to hold all these articles
as articles of faith, while holding many of them only as matters
of opinion, and not holding some of them at all, is a bad example
to the world and demoralising to the Church herself. That her
continued timidity in dealing with these Standards in view of
such facts is discreditable to her faith in the abiding presence
of God’s Spirit; is a policy of unfaithfulness to the truth;
and a policy that would be by no party more condemned than
by the men who framed these Standards according to
the light they had, and by the Reformers whose creed has
been preserved, but whose prompt and fearless loyalty to truth
has been to a large extent lost. That our own Church, from her
history and also from her present position (as free on the one
hand from entanglement with the State, and on the other hand
from union negotiations) stands now in a peculiarly favourable
position for undertaking the work of revision, which important
work the Synod is respectfully overtimed to commence, with the
view of either substituting for the present subordinate stan
dards, a brief and simple formula, containing only those articles
of faith which we think every man, in order to belong to the
visible Church of Christ, must hold, and relegating to a
separate category merely distinctive principles; or in such
other way as the Synod may in its wisdom deem best, extricating
the Church from her present unworthy position, and removing
the mischievous arrest which her present Standards would
place (and to some extent have placed) upon her inalienable
right freely to advance in the knowledge of God, freely to
speak the whole truth of the Bible, and freely to adapt herself
to the wants of every nation and of every age, in order more
effectually to accomplish the great work for which she exists.”
VIII.—OVERTURE FROM MR. MACRAE'S KIRK
SESSION.
After considerable discussion in the Presbytery, Mr. Macrae
withdrew his personal overture on account of the Presby
tery consenting to transmit the overture from his session, which
he had been appointed to support before the Synod. He said he
�64
would have preferred supporting his own; but his Kirk-Session’s,
though less explicit, covered the ground sufficiently, and would
allow him to say all he meant to say before the Supreme
Court.
The following are the terms of the Kirk-Session’s overture:—
“ Whereas the main object of our subordinate standards is to
show forth as accurately as possible the views of God’s character
and will as believed and preachedin our Church; and, whereas
our present subordinate standards fail in this object, and tend
very much to misrepresent our views of the truth, the Synod is
respectfully overtured either to set these standards aside, or
to take such steps as in its wisdom it may deem best, in order
to bring the Church’s formula into harmony with the Church’s
faith, and to remove what has proved a stumbling-block to
many in the way of accepting office in the Church, as well
as a barrier in the way of union among Christian people.
David Macrae, Moderator of Session.
Wm. Cochran, Session-Clerk.
�65
APPENDIX.
IS MR. MACRAE’S PICTURE OF THE THEOLOGY
OF THE CONFESSION A “ CARICATURE ? ”
As Mr. Macrae’s summary of the Calvinistic system embodied
in the standards was called again and again, “ a caricature,”
and “ a distorted picture of the Confession,” by persons both in
the Presbytery and out of it, who either did not know their
own Confession, or did not wish its actual character to be
known,—we append here the very words of the Confession,
side by side with Mr. Macrae’s.
Rev. David Macrae.
Confession of Faith.
The Confession teaches that God, for
His own glory, has predestinated some
men to be saved, but that all the rest of
mankind He has predestinated to damna
tion and everlasting torment in hell.
By the decree of God, for the manifesta
tion of His glory, some men and angels are
predestinated unto everlasting life, and
some foreordained to everlasting death.—
Chap, iii, 3.
It teaches that while there is no fear f, li
the elect, there is no hope for the nonelect.
They whom God hath accepted in His
Beloved, effectually called and sanctified
by His Spirit, can neither totally nor
finally fall away from the state of grace,
but shall certainly persevere therein to the
end, and be eternally saved.—Chap, xvii, 1.
Others not elected, although they may
be called by the ministry of the Word,
and may have some common operations of
the Spirit, yet they never truly come to
Christ, and therefore cannot be saved.—
Chap, x, 4.
It teaches that God has absolutely and
unchangeably fixed the very number, so
that not one of them (the non-elect) can
These men and angels, thus predesti
nated and foreordained, are particularly
and unchangeably designed, and their
M.
E
�63
be brought over to the ranks of the saved,
preach to them and pray for them as you
will.
number is so certain and definite that it
cannot either be increased or diminished.
—Chap, iii, 4.
It teaches that none are redeemed by
Christ but the elect only.
Neither are any other redeemed by
Christ, effectually called, justified, adop
ted, sanctified, and saved but the elect
only.—Chap, iii, 6.
It teaches that the rest of mankind are
not only unable to believe in Christ, and
beyond His power to redeem, but are
brought into the world by God utterly
unable to help themselves.
The rest of mankind God was pleased,
according to the unsearchable counsel of
His own will, whereby He extendeth or
withholdeth mercy as He pleaseth, for the
glory of His sovereign power over His
creatures, to pass by, and to ordain them
to dishonour and wrath for their sin, to
the praise of His glorious justice.—Chap,
iii, 7.
Man by his fall into a state of sin hath
wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual
good accompanying salvation; so as a na
tural man, being altogether averse to that
good, and dead in sin, is not able by his
own strength to convert himself or to pre
pare himself thereunto.—Chap, ix, 3.
It teaches that God hardens them, with
holding the grace by which they might
have been enlightened in their under
standings and wrought upon in their
hearts.
As for those wicked and ungodly men
whom God as a righteous judge for former
sins doth blind and harden, from them He
not only withholdeth His grace whereby
they might have been enlightened in their
understandings and wrought upon in their
hearts ; but sometimes, &c.—Chap, v, (i.
It teaches that by reason of the sin of
Adam, apart from any fault of their own,
thej’ come into the world wholly defiled in
all the faculties and parts of soul and body,
utterly indisposed, disabled, and made op
posite to all good, and wholly inclined to
all evil.
By this sin they (our first parents) fell
from their original righteousness and com
munion with God, and so became dead in
sin and wholly defiled in all the faculties
and parts of soul and body.
They being the root of all mankind, the
guilt of this sin was imputed, and the same
death in sin and corrupted nature c<mveyed
to all their posterity, descending from them
by ordinary generation.
From this original corruption, whereby
we are utterly indisposed, disabled, and
made opposite to all good, and wholly in
clined to all evil, do proceed our actual
transgressions.—Chap, vi, 2, 3, 4.
�It teaches that because of this sin, which
they could not and cannot help, they arc
bound helplessly over to the wrath of God
and the curse of the law, and so made
subject to spiritual, temporal, and eternal
■death.
Every sin, both original and actual,
being a transgression of the righteous law
of God, and contrary thereunto, doth, in
its own nature, bring guilt upon the sinner,
whereby he is bound over to the wrath of
God and curse of the law, and so made
subject to death, with all miseries—spiri
tual, temporal, and eternal.—Chap, vi, (i.
It teaches that even in heathen lauds,
where they have never heard, and there
fore never had an opportunity of accepting
the Gospel, they cannot be saved, no mat
ter how earnestly they may frame their
lives according- to the light of nature, or
the laws of that religion which they profess.
Much less can men not professing the
Christian religion be saved in any other
way whatsoever, be they ever so diligent
to frame their lives according to the light
of nature, and to the law of that religion
they do profess; and to assert and main
tain that they may is very pernicious and
to be detested.—Chap, x, 4.
It teaches that if they do wrong it is a
sin and they are damned for it, and if they
do right it is still sin and they are damned
all the same. If they turn to one hand it
is bad, if they turn to the other it is worse.
If they obey the law of God it is sin, if
they disobey it is worse sin.
Works done by unregenerate men, al
though for the matter of them they may
be things which God commands and of
good use both to themselves and others,
yet because thej’ proceed not from a heart
purified by faith, nor are done in a right
manner according to the Word, nor to a
right end, the glory of God.; they are,
therefore, sinful and cannot please God, or
make a man meet to receive grace from
God. And yet their neglect of them is
more sinful and displeasing unto God.—
Chap, xvi, 7.
Repent and return to God, it is declared
they cannot. They cannot even make an
effort that way; they are unchangeably
predestinated to be damned.
Chap, iii, 3, 4, 7; chap, ix, 3, quoted
above.
Chap, vi, 4; ix, 3; and iii, 3, also quoted
above.
And after death, according to our stan
dard, they are all east into hell, there to
endure for ever and ever unspeakable tor
ments of soul and body as long as God
Himself shall exist.
But the wicked who know not God, and
obey not the Gospel of Jesus Christ, shall
be cast into eternal fire, and be punished
with everlasting destruction from the pre
sence of the Lord, and from the glory of
His power (Chap, xxxiii, 2); or, as the
Larger Catechism (another of the Stan
dards) puts it—“Cast into hell and be
punished with unspeakable torments,
both of body and soul, with the devil and
his angels, for ever.
It teaches that of the countless myriads
of babes who have died and are dying in
infancy, only the elect are saved.
Elect infants, dying in infancy, are re
generated in Christ through the Spirit,
who worketh when, and how, and where
He pleaseth.
�For the non-elect, young and old, it has
no fate but the unending'and unspeakable
torments of hell.
Others not elected .... cannot be
saved.—Chap, x, 4, quoted above, also
chap, xxxiii, 2.
Whether Mr. Macrae’s picture is or is not a caricature, the
reader can judge for himself; and whether this is the theology
believed and preached in our churches, Presbyterian readers
will also be able to judge without much hesitation.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The war against the Westminster standards
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Macrae, David
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: Glasgow
Collation: 68 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Presented in Memory of Dr. Moncure D. Conway by his children, July 1908. Includes bibliographical references. Including a speech suppressed by the presbytery.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
John S. Marr & Sons
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
CT75
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The war against the Westminster standards), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Subject
The topic of the resource
Presbyterian Church
Conway Tracts
United Presbyterian Church
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/93c481a67e8a37b030335c2f58c9bc0b.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=bD-LTC4o5HGDuzgsefJne3PG-I4qxxvJHJT117hGcpwTNEvRu1RTCLjo6Q0VUYU%7EItYnSSFPxaWqGtG9hqFqekEsl-Aw8CKQJNl9ZrfiEPMmkIAuKn7DM0wmd%7EQOY5HTMTvlDIetAEgpB1sPgm-WtcaQ6q%7EHtsiW6t0A0tEtdUOkLV9o-hmqAN6Aru7ME8iS7%7E51-ALP3OFs8BAsVzPETa-0txdX2sMZUXpQ36XPGed-y8vMn0NrqdlyFc7QXUE%7EU70E5wiOpyYh4FfJJ3DVCSQGcXFTsuze%7EWKXCsdgV8IFmqu-bBgD8JWRz6EoQCzUrE7F4uLm6LlhBy0QGV3MhA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
a5eafe67cc3ebef750185cae064b179f
PDF Text
Text
NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY
t-eovi e-
i~e v/i
WORK AND PAY.
�M .m tffM .IT H IM W ................
'
�WORK AND PAY:
OR,
PRINCIPLES OF INDUSTRIAL ECONOMY.
IN KING’S COLLEGE, LONDON.
WITH
REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE OF THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION-
ON COMBINATIONS OF LABOURERS AND CAPITALISTS.
By LEONE LEVI, F.S.A., F.S.S.,
PROFESSOR OF THE PRINCIPLES OF COMMERCE AND COMMERCIAL LAW IN KING S
COLLEGE, LONDON ; DOCTOR OF POLITICAL ECONOMY ; AND OF
LINCOLN’S INN, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STRAHAN AND CO., LIMITED,
34, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.
1877.
The right of translation is reserved.^
�Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Printers, London & Aylesbury.
�TO
SAMUEL MORLEY, ESQ., M.P.
Dear Sir,—
These lectures are the outcome of the Bristol Meeting
of the British Association, when the report of its Committee on
Combinations of Capitalists and Labourers was read and dis
cussed. And they owe their delivery to your earnest desire to
have the important questions at issue between masters and men
treated in a calm spirit and in an impartial manner. I do not
jay claim to the enunciation of any new theories, or to any
novelty in argument. What I have advanced is nothing more
than what the well-established principles of political economy,
recognised alike in their essentials by British and foreign
economists, have taught us.
Your desire and mine is that the relations between capital and
labour be placed on a sound and equitable basis, and I earnestly
trust that the effort now made to bring the principles of economic
science and the interests and aspirations of the working classes
into direct contact and possible harmony may have a beneficial
influence on the well-being of the people.
Believe me, dear Sir, yours very faithfully,
LEONE LEVI.
5,
Crown Office Row, Temple,
March, 1877.
��CONTENTS
RAGE
LECTURE
I. WORK AND WORKERS............................................................ I
II. THE DIVISION . OF LABOUR AND THE WONDERS OF
MACHINERY............................................................................... 17
III. USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY............................................... 33
IV. THE REWARD OF LABOUR..........................................................49
V. TRADE UNIONS.............................................................................. 67
VI. STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS
.
.
VIII.
.
.
.85
.
.
VII. BUDGETS OF THE WORKINGCLASSES
.96
SAVINGS BANKS AND OTHER INVESTMENTS OF THE
WORKING CLASSES.................................................................. HI
APPENDIX.
(a)
cost of living in 1839, 1849, i859>
1&75 ,
• 129
.
.
. 130
(c) BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES .
.
. 131
(b) wages
in 1839, 1849, 1859, 1873
(D) REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE OF THEBRITISH
ASSOCIATION.................................................................. 137
��I.
WORK AND WORKERS.
If I venture to come before you, in this great centre of labour,
to discuss some of those questions connected with “Work
and Pay ” which so often give occasion to quarrels and diffi
culties, it is in the full consciousness that the proper solution
of economic problems depends not only on the right con
ception of abstract theories and principles, but on their being
regarded side by side with the realities of life. I do not pre
tend to be a philosopher, but I would like to be a practical
economist. If I am able to state to you what I consider the
dictates of economic science on the questions before us, you
may also be able to point out to me how such dictates are found
to work in practical life. In any case, should I be unable to
carry conviction into your mind, should you see reason to object
to any principles I may lay before you, I hope you will not refuse
giving due heed to the lessons and warnings of a science which is
essentially connected with the progress and wealth of the nation.
It is cheering to know that we are all wanted in this wide
world ; that all of us have a purpose to accomplish, and that, if
we have only the will to exercise them, our faculties need not lie
dormant, or languish. To me, and to all of us, constituted as
we are, it is a real pleasure to work. I delight in a tableful of
papers. I do not sympathize with the sentiment, dolce far
niente; I rather believe in the adage, “Amind at rest is a
mind unblest.” With our powers of thought and imaginaI
�2
WORK AND- WORKERS.
tion, and with our capacity of invention, construction, and
intercourse, we must be active in order to be happy. The use
of such expressions as “ condemned to labour,” or the “ task of
labour,” or the calling of labour of any kind “ servile,” whilst
we enjoy full freedom of labour, betokens simple ignorance of its
dignity and utility. Sometimes, indeed, we may be disappointed
at the result of our labour. Occasionally, it may be, thorns
and thistles spring where we expected luxuriant fruitfulness
and beauty. But what then ? The necessity to meet our daily
wants, and even our failure to accomplish the object of our
aspirations, often prove a salutary incentive to strengthen and
refine the powers and faculties with which we are endowed.
One thing is absolutely certain, that without labour nothing is
produced. The sun, water, fire, wind, gravitation, magnetism,
the vital forces of animals, the vegetative forces of the soil, the
duration, resistance, and ductility of metals, whatever active
or inert forces may exist, if left to themselves they will not
exist for us, and will be quite indifferent to our happiness. That
they may serve us, they must be turned to our service; that they
may be able to produce, they must be directed in the work of
production. Though they exist independently of us, as agents
of production, they exist only by human industry.
"... Nature lives by labour ;
Beast, bird, air, fire, the Heavens and rolling world,
All live by action ; nothing lives at rest,
But death and ruin! ” *
We often speak of the working classes as a distinct body
of persons upon whom mainly fall the work and toil of life.
What a blunder ! We are all workers. Every one of us, from
the Queen on the throne to the humblest of her subjects, has a
place to fill and a work to do. Some are labouring in directing
and administering the affairs of the State. They are the
Ministers of State, the Governors of Colonies, the whole Civil
* Dyer.
�WORK AND WORKERS.
Service. Some are engaged in extracting the fruit of the soil,
in appropriating, adapting, converting, shaping matter to our
convenience. They work the land. They are busy with animal
and vegetable substances and minerals. Many are fulfilling
various offices for man—curing diseases, teaching youth, pre
serving peace, defending right, punishing wrong, and in a
thousand ways upholding the great structure of human society.
Some work in the field, some in workshops, some in the
mines, and some on the sea. Some labour with the hand,
some with the head, and some with both. Yes, we are all
workers. Strictly speaking, we may not be all producers of
wealth; all labour being, economically speaking, unproductive
which ends in immediate enjoyment without tending to any
increase of permanent stock, or not having for its result a
material product. Yet we can scarcely say that no labour is
valuable which is not immediately employed in the production
of material riches. The genius which enlightens, the religion
which comforts, the justice which preserves, the sciences and
arts which improve and charm our existence, are indirectly, if
not in a direct manner, as truly productive as commerce, which
affords us the enjoyment of the produce and labour of other
countries; as agriculture, which extracts the fruit special to
each soil; and as manufactures, which transform the raw produce
of different countries into articles adapted to the taste and
wants of the opulent, as well as of the masses of the people.
Few, indeed, who truly fulfil the mission to which they are
called, who labour in the sphere a,nd condition in which they are
placed, and who exercise the faculties and talents with which
they are endowed, can be said to be unproductive in this great
laboratory. The whole nation is practically working together
as a great co-operative society, under the very best division of
labour; all the more perfect since it is natural and spontaneous.
Let us perform our part well, and we need not fear but our
labour will be useful.
Ashamed of working ?—
�4
WORK AND WORKERS.
“ Work, work ! be not afraid,
Look labour boldly in the face;
Take up the hammer or the spade,
And blush not for your humble place.
There’s glory in the shuttle’s song,
There’s triumph in the anvil’s stroke,
There’s merit in the grave and strong,
Who dig the mine or fell the oak.
The wind disturbs the sleeping lake,
And bids it ripple pure and fresh,
It moves the grain boughs till they make
Grand music in their leafy mesh.”
I have often wondered at the power of endurance of the
human frame when engaged in some of the most arduous tasks
of manual labour. It must be hard to be continually lifting
enormous weights, to deal with such substances as iron and
steel, to stand the heat of a fiery furnace, or to work for hours
in the very bowels of the earth. But do not imagine that those
who labour with the head have a much lighter work. The head
ache, the excited nerve, the sleepless eye, of the man of letters
are as irksome and injurious to life as the undue exercise of our
physical energies. An agricultural labourer, working in the
open air with mind and heart perfectly at ease, has a greater
expectancy of life than a solicitor or a physician. The distinc
tion, moreover, between manual and intellectual labour is no
ldnger so marked as it once was. It is ungenerous to assume
that the manual labourer employs no skill, for what labour is
there which does not need skill and judgment ? What are the
wonderful results of machinery, those exquisite examples of
handicraft at our Kensington Museum, but so many monuments
of the talent and dexterity of those who are engaged in socalled manual labour ? Among the labouring classes there is a
wonderful and endless variety of talent and skill. Between the
Michael Angelos employed by a Bond Street goldsmith, and the
common labourer employed in the East and West India Docks,
the gradations are most numerous. We speak of a million of
�WORK AND WORKERS
5
men engaged in agricultural work, of half a million in the
building trade, of a third of a million employed in the textile
manufacture, and of a third more in tailoring and shoemaking.
But really these different descriptions of workmen divide them
selves into as many classes as they have special skill and
capacity. Together, they cultivate during the yea 47,000,000
acres of land, rear 32,000,000 sheep and 10,000,000 cattle, ex
tract some ^65,000,000 worth of minerals, produce goods for
export to the extent of ^200,000,000, and bring into existence
ever so many commodities and utilities needed for the susten
ance, comforts, and luxuries of the inhabitants of all countries.
But to what extent each individual labourer assists in this work
it would be difficult to say. I fear the difference is in many
cases enormous.
It is well indeed to remember what are the conditions for
the efficient discharge of duties in the work of production. To
my mind, first and foremost amongst such conditions is energy,
or the possession of a good strong will to work ; for with in
dolence and carelessness no work is done, no wealth is pro
duced. There must be steady and persevering labour, and an
energetic and willing mind to overcome the difficulties which
Nature presents. An impulsive and transient effort is not
sufficient. How far it is true that six Englishmen can do as
much work as eight Belgians or Frenchmen, I do not know;
but to be able to do a certain amount of work, and to give
oneself in earnest to do it, are two distinct things. There is
such a thing, let it be remembered, as idling away our time
whilst we profess to work, as laying 500 bricks in a day when
1000 might easily be laid, as giving five blows to strike a tree-nail
when three ought to be sufficient. A day’s work means a day
of continuous, energetic work—a day in which as much work
is done as can possibly be done, a day in which our powers
and talents are employed in full active service, when the work
is gone through thoroughly, speedily, earnestly. To pretend to
�6
WORK AND WORKERS.
be working when you are wasting your time in idle talk, is to
defraud your master of the value of your service. To make a
show of work is a very different thing from doing real work.
Then there is another consideration. How many days in the
year do you work ? An Irishman’s year used to be 200 days,
instead of at least 300 ; for he had 52 Sundays, 52 market-days,
a fair in each month, half a day a week for a funeral, and some
13 days in the year as saints’-days and birthdays. What a
waste ! “ Alas for that workman who takes all the Mondays
for pastime and idleness, who keeps fairs and wakes, or who
deliberately neglects the work which a bountiful Providence
set before him ! Miserable is he who slumbers on in idleness.
Miserable the workman who sleeps before the hour of his rest,
or who sits down in the shadow whilst his brethren work in
the sun.” * There is enough of forced idleness and slack time
in every occupation, without aggravating the evil by wilful
neglect. “To live really,” said Mr. Smiles, “is to act energeti
cally. Life is a battle to be fought valiantly. Inspired by high
and honourable resolve, a man must stand to his post, and die
there, if need be. Like the old Danish hero, his determination
should be to dare nobly, to will strongly, and never falter in the
path of duty.”
" Let us go forth, and resolutely dare
With sweat of brow to toil our little day;
And if a tear fall on the task of care,
Brush it not by 1”
The national characteristics of each country are sure to be
reflected in the work performed by its people. Her Majesty’s
Secretaries of Legation reported of the French that there is
much instability in their manner of work; that the workmen are
most competent when it suits their fancy to display their skill, but
that, as a rule, they do not work steadily. Of the Germans, that
their work is well performed, but that their chief fault is slowness
and indifference as to time in completing their task. Thequality
* Tynman.
�WORK AND WORKERS.
1
of the work in Italy is not to be despised, but the workmen
require a great amount of watching, their conscience not being
at all sensitive. Of the Swiss, they say that, as a rule, they are
competent for their work, and that they do take an interest in
it. The work of the Dutch is sound and good, but it has not
the polish and finish of the English. The Russians, the Secretary
of Legation reports, seem utterly indifferent as to the quality
of their labour. They take no pride in their work, and require
the most constant supervision. The Turks perform their work
roughly, rudely, and incompletely. The Argentines turn out a
rough and unfinished work. And our friends in the United
States have many short cuts for arriving at what may not be
quite equal to the article turned out in the English workshop.
Rare are the instances where absolute praise is awarded for
energy, where it can be said with truth that the labourers do
really take a pride in their work, and throw their character
into it. What reports are the Secretaries of Foreign Legations
in England sending out to their Governments as regards work
in this country? Is there good foundation for the complaint of
the deterioration of work in many branches of British labour ?
Nearly one hundred years ago, a German writer described the
Englishman as the best workman in the world ; for he worked
so as to satisfy his own mind, and always gave his work that
degree of perfection which he had learnt to appreciate and
attain. As the Frenchman sought to enhance the value of his
manufactures by all kinds of external ornament, so the English
man sought to give his productions in exactitude, usefulness,
and durability a less fleeting worth. Has this important encomium
been forfeited? I do not think so, whatever may be said to the
contrary. As a matter of fact it is seen in the cotton industry
that an English labourer is able to superintend 74 spindles,
whilst a German can at most [superintend 35, a Russian 28,
and a Frenchman 14. Physically and intellectually, the British
workman is better than he ever was. I doubt, indeed, if he has
�8
AND WORKERS.
a rival in his capacity for continuous exertion ; and if there be
reason to lament his disposition to obey with perfect discipline
the mandates of such associations as undertake to protect his
rights, we should not forget that it is that same disposition that
best fits the British workman for taking his place in the modern
organization of labour, where every human hand has work
assigned, the value of which depends on the relation it bears toa great whole.
I am persuaded, however, that the exercise of energy in work
depends in a great measure on the possession of strength and
health ; for it is impossible to work well unless we are in health
and comfort. The body must be in full vigour, the vital energies'
must be elastic and fresh, the mental faculties must be quick
and active, ere we can give ourselves to patient and persevering
labour. Viewed in this aspect, every measure of sanitary reform
has a direct economic value. How can you expect hard-working-
men and women where the very air is tainted by the most noxious
gases ? Liverpool, Manchester, and Salford, said Dr. Farr, are
at the head of a mournful cohort of unhealthy districts which
call aloud for healers. It is not the water, nor the food,
nor the absence of food, nor the clothing that produce the
mischief, but it is the heedless admixture of tallow-chandlery
and slaughter-houses, and the vitiated atmosphere from the
black outpourings from innumerable chimneys, that make the
Manchester artisan pale, sallow, and unhealthy, and that make his
children grow pale, thin, and listless. Many of our workmen,
moreover, have to meet dangers peculiar to their occupations..
They are liable to suffer from exposure to dust and other foreign
substances, from exposure to noxious gases and heated and im
pure air, from mechanical concussions, from peculiar postures of
body, and from excessive exertion. In the manufacture of artificial
flowers or wall-paper with emerald-green, the workers are in
danger of slow poisoning from arsenic. A dozen leaves from
a lady’s head-dress were found to contain ten grains of white
�WORK AND WORKERS.
9
arsenic. Those who have to do with phosphorous are exposed
to its fumes, which produce jaw disease and bronchitic affections.
The workers in lead are exposed to lead-poisoning, and those
who work with mercury to mercurial poisoning ; whilst builders,,
miners, fishermen, and seamen are in special danger of sudden
death from falls, explosions, or storms. Domestic servants,
always at home, comparatively at ease as respects the necessaries
of life, may be supposed to have a good expectancy of life ; yet
carpenters and even metal-workers have better prospects of great
age than they.
But, as I have just hinted, quite apart from dangers of this
nature, other risks follow many of our workmen in their homes.
Born, many of them, in the midst of comparative privations,
living often in low, dingy, uncomfortable houses, how hard it
is for them to maintain anything like freshness and vivacity.
The rents of houses are certainly dear, and they often absorb a
good portion of their weekly wages. Yet I apprehend that a
comparatively high house-rent might be really a good investment,
should it prevent, as it is sure to do, the slow deterioration of
health, the lowered vitality of enjoyment, and the long series of
evils arising from overcrowding. Room to breathe is wanted
everywhere. Much good will, I hope, result from the recent
Act for facilitating the improvement of the dwellings of the
working classes ; and good work is done in London by such
associations as the Metropolitan Association for Improving
the Dwellings of the Industrious Classes, the Improved Indus
trial Dwellings Company, and many other kindred societies.
But all such efforts need the co-operation of the labouringclasses themselves. How much an individual is justified in
spending in house-rent it is difficult to say, circumstances
varying so much. Ten per cent, of the income is, I believe,
generally devoted to house-rent by the middle classes, whether
by paying that proportion for a whole house, or by paying more
and recovering a portion by sub-letting. But ten per cent, of
�IO
AND WORKERS.
the working Oman’s wages, viz., three or four shillings a week
on an income of thirty shillings to forty shillings, is hardly
enough for sufficient accommodation for even a moderate
family. Supposing, therefore, that twelve per cent, be required,
or even fifteen per cent., better far to economise in other
items of expenditure than to live in a house smaller than we
require. In the economic management of a limited income
the first thought should be an airy, wholesome, cheerful
house—a real home for every inmate of the household.
Need I say that there may be a house without a home?
A house where father, mother, and children, some even of
tender age, are absent from six in the morning to six or seven
at night, can scarcely be called a home. Where mothers
cease to nurse their children, and leave them to the tender
mercies of servants, or deposit them at the Creches, there must
of necessity be a frightful mortality of children, a grievous de
generation of the race, and a total absence of moral education.
And when, late in the evening, father, mother, and children
meet together, more as strangers than as members of a common
household, often in the only room they possess, empty and
cheerless, what comfort can they expect ? Alas ! cleanliness in
such a case is out of the question. The fire is out; the food is
not ready; the children’s clothing falls into rags ; and, worse
than all, father and brothers, disgusted, take refuge at the
nearest public-house. I know nothing more essential, both in
a social and economic aspect, than a happy home. “ Home 1
If any of you working men have not got a home yet, resolve,
and tell your wife of your good resolution, to get, to make it at
almost any sacrifice. She will aid it all she can. Her step will
be lighter and her hand will be busier all day, expecting the
comfortable evening at home when you return. Household
affairs will have been well attended to. A place for everything,
and everything in its place, will, like some good genius, have
made even an humble home the scene of neatness, arrange-
�WORK AND WORKERS.
ii
ment, and taste. The table will be ready at the fireside ; the
loaf will be one of that order which says, by its appearance, You
may cut and come again. The cups and saucers will be waiting
for supplies. The kettle will be singing; and the children,
happy with fresh air and exercise, will be smiling in their glad
anticipation of that evening meal when father is at home, and
of the pleasant reading afterwards.” *
In matters of food and drink, I imagine, the British labourer
is better off than the labourers of any other country. Meat is
indeed dear, yet not dearer than in New York or Paris ; whilst
bread is decidedly cheaper, vegetables are abundant, and fish
plentiful. And the people are doing full justice to such bounties.
What a change in the quantities of foreign commodities con
sumed during the last thirty years 1 In 1844, there were ijj lbs.
of tea per head consumed in the United Kingdom; in 1875,
4'44 lbs. In 1844, f lb. of foreign butter ; in 1875, 4’92 lbs. In
1844, scarcely anything of foreign bacon and hams was con
sumed; in 1875, 8-26 lbs. per head. And, whilst the home pro
duction of wheat and flour is as large as ever, the consumption
of wheat and flour of foreign countries increased from iyjlbs., in
1844, to 197 lbs. per head in 1875. How many who are now able
to eat wheaten bread, were thirty years ago content with rye
bread ! and how many who never saw butcher meat from
week to week, now enjoy it every day I Surely we may rejoice
that by a wise legislation the door has been opened for the
importation of the necessaries of life from every part of the
globe ; and that, as a result of the same and of other favourable
circumstances, whereas the number of paupers, including indoor
and outdoor, in 1849 was in the proportion of 573 per cent, of the
population, in 1875 it was only 3’11 per cent. These are facts of
unmistakable importance as regards the well-being of the people.
An important element in the maintenance of health is cer
tainly the duration of labour; but how many hours a day a
* Helps.
�12
WORK AND WORKERS.
workman may safely work in any industry without injury to
his health must depend not only on the age and constitution of
the worker, but on the kind of labour and the spirit with which
the work is performed. I cannot say that, personally, I have
much sympathy with any excessive indulgence for rest; for I
am myself a great worker, having been often at my work sixteen
or eighteen hours a day-—not occasionally, but for weeks to
gether ; nor do I feel the slightest inconvenience from it. Yet
it must be allowed that labour saved is not lost; and that unless
we husband our strength, we stand a good risk of losing it
altogether. I fully approve, therefore, of the legislation respect
ing labour in factories, which limits the number of hours of
work to women and children. But let us not carry the matter
too far. Remember, that even an hour a day extended over say
5,000,000 workpeople, working 300 days in the year, means a
loss of 150,000,000 days a year. Doubtless such loss may be
recovered by increased energy on the part of the workers, and
by the introduction of improved ’machinery. As a matter of
fact, at no time has England produced more than at present,
notwithstanding the extension of the factory laws, and the widely
diffused adoption of shorter hours. But is that a reason why
we should indulge in idleness, beyond what is requisite for
health and moderate enjoyment ?
Hitherto I have dwelt on energy, physical strength, and
health. It is necessary that I should add education as one of
the very first conditions for the efficient discharge of duties
in the work of production. Never was the saying, “ Knowledge
is power,” more truly applicable than at present. Compare the
value of skilled and unskilled labour. The demand for com
paratively unskilled labour may be as great as ever, but the
reward of skilled labour is certainly much greater. It is no new
discovery, though it has, of late, acquired greater prominence,
that in the work of production to sturdy will, patient endurance,
and strong hands, we must add some knowledge of science, a
�WORK AND WORKERS.
13
cultivated mind, and a refined taste. Education and science
must no longer remain the ornament and luxury of the few—
they must become the necessary endowment of the many, if we
will succeed in the great arena of industrial competition.
To what but to science does England owe her great achieve
ments ? Mechanical and chemical science have revolutionized
the productive power of the country. It was but yesterday,
comparatively, that in the coal beneath our feet we found a
primary source of colour which makes England almost inde
pendent of the most costly dyewoods hitherto consumed in’the
ornamentation of the textile fabrics. Yet, with all our dis
coveries, and all our advantages, here we are but little in
advance of other countries, and our only hope of maintaining
our position depends on the success which we may yet attain
in fathoming the inexhaustible secrets of Nature, on the increase
in the number of patient yet ardent votaries of science, and
still more, on the diffusion of education and scientific knowledge,
among the great body of labourers. With the progress of
civilization and refinement all over the world, it is no longer
sufficient now to be able to produce what is cheap and
plentiful, or objects adapted to the common wants of the
masses. If England is to keep her place as the greatest manu
facturing country in the world, we must endeavour, by the
cultivation of the science of the perception of beauty, and by
paying proper attention to the fine arts, to produce articles
suitable to every state of civilization.
Much has been said, of late, on technical education, by
which we understand the teaching of those sciences which
are useful in industrial pursuits. Is it not a sound principle
that the designer should know something of drawing, the
dyer something of chemistry, the miner of geology and
mineralogy? The chairmaker, the tailor, the bootmaker, the
hatter, the coachmaker, and even the pastrycook, all requiresome knowledge of form.
All honour then to the London
�14
WORK AND WORKERS.
School Board for introducing drawing m their scheme of
Elementary Education.
How few, indeed, are at all ac
quainted with the scientific principles of their labour. An
order comes for cloth of a particular shade of colour. How
few can tell, beforehand, precisely, what manipulation will
give it to a nicety ! And if there be one in an establishment
endowed with such knowledge, probably because he stumbled
into it, he is deemed the possessor of a great mystery.
But
why should it be so ? Science need neither be a mystery nor a
monopoly. Its pages are open to all, and let us not think that
its meaning is hid or incomprehensible to the common under
standing With the simplicity of language ordinarily used, and
the constant appeal to real facts by visible demonstrations and
illustrations, the acquisition of scientific knowledge has been
rendered wonderfully easy.
Apart- from intellectual powers, however, I own great par
tiality for the moral. It seems to me that we must elevate, not
the mind only, but the taste and affections of the people, if we
wish to realize true progress. With such huge conglomerations
of people as we have in this metropolis and in our manufactur
ing towns, quite away from the beauties of nature, we do need
museums and galleries to educate the sense of the beautiful.
What a power on our imagination have the common prints
and representations which adorn our walls! What an effect the
ornaments which cover our mantelpieces ! Nor should we
forget that more important even than the cultivation of the
taste and the affections is the possession of good morals and
simple piety. To secure a good reward, the labourer must not
only have a good physical frame, and a proper aptitude for
labour, but those qualities which create confidence and animate
trust. Unless a labourer is worthy of confidence, it is impos
sible that he can be regularly employed. And what is; it that
. creates confidence? Sober and steady conduct, truthfulness
and purity of character, conscientiousness and strict regar
�WORK AND WORKERS.
i5
to duty ; in short, an abiding sense of the responsibility of
our calling.
The requisites of production, John Stuart Mill said, are
two—labour and appropriate natural objects. Certain lands
are more favoured than others in natural productiveness. The
climate has great influence in promoting vegetation, and in
making the people hearty and robust. Numerous external in
fluences, physical, economical, political, and social, determine
more or less the success of labour. Taking it all in all, England
is highly favoured as a field of human labour. Geographically,
she is splendidly situated, on all sides open to communica
tion with all the world.
Her climate is most temperate.
Coal and iron are sources of immense wealth. Her manufac
turing industry is wonderfully developed. The commercial
spirit of her people quite boundless. Her political organization,
based on personal freedom to move, to speak, to meet, well nigh
perfect. Her economical policy is immensely superior to that
of almost any other nation. Can we wonder that her people
are tranquil, that the Queen reigns supreme in the heart of the
nation, and that wealth is increasing at an enormous ratio ?
Where can you find a better field of labour than in
England ? Go to France, and you have no freedom of action
and a constant dread of revolution. Go to Russia, and you
meet despotism all rampant. Go to the United States, and you
find that better wages are scarcely equivalent to the higher cost
of living. Go to any of the British Colonies, and you must be
prepared to work harder far than you are doing in this country,
and to bid adieu to every association and to all the pleasures of
civilized life.
Nowhere, indeed, is labour more appreciated,
nay, I might say more ennobled, than in this country, and no
where is an ampler field afforded for its application.
But if labour is honoured, is the labourer receiving due con
sideration? Are his trials and difficulties taken into account?
Are his wants as a man and a citizen properly recognised ?
�AND WORKERS.
Alas ! I fear not. On the contrary, there is far too ready a
disposition to regard the labourers as a class as ignorant,
wasteful, drunken, idle, and criminal. But where is the evi
dence for such a charge ? In the number signing the marriage
register with marks there is a vast improvement. The Savingsbanks and Building Societies testify that the labouring classes
have saved large sums in recent years. The yearly amount
of production in the kingdom tells us that they have not been
altogether idle ; and if they drink more, or it may be are more
amenable to its consequences than they formerly were, probably
through better police administration, of crime, especially of the
heavier character, they are certainly less guilty. They might
be better, and so we all should be. But let us not indulge in
sweeping condemnations of whole classes of the people. They
are not true, and their effect is most injurious.
In the new organization of labour incident to production on
a large scale, there is abundant scope for the display, by both
masters and men, of those qualities which are essential for the
maintenance of peace and concord. Let the master recognise,
fully and unreservedly, the free position of the workman, and
his absolute right to improve his condition. Let him see that
labour be carried on under conditions, as favourable as possible,
to the preservation of human health and vigour. Let him pro
mote, as far as in him lies, provident habits and intellectual
improvement among his labourers. Let him manifest a per
sonal sympathetic interest in their behalf. Let the master
do all this, and we shall also witness among workmen an in
creasing earnestness and energy in the execution of their work,
a greater interest in the success of production, and a better
disposition to apply all their forces, physical, intellectual, and
moral, towards the surmounting of those obstacles which hinder
and retard the economic progress of the nation.
�II.
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND THE WONDERS OF
MACHINERY.
Within this century, within the recollection of many living
among us, one of the greatest of economic revolutions has taken
place, the consequence of which has far exceeded any human
expectation. It is the substitute of collective for individual
labour, of factory for home industry, and of mechanical for
human labour.
Time was when the weaver was both the-:
capitalist and the labourer ; when the linen weaver cultivated
the flax, heckled it, spun it into yarn, wove it, and sold the web
at the linen market. There was no division of labour in those
days. The producer gloried in his independence. He was his.
own master. He did all the work himself. But production
proceeded slowly in that fashion. And so the capitalist came
to the rescue by supplying the weaver with the material, and
paying him a given sum on the delivery of a given quantity ot
finished cloth. As yet, the loom belonged to the weaver; and if
he had no loom of his own, he worked at a loom belonging to<
some other weaver, in which case he was the journeyman, and
the weaver at whose loom he worked was the master weaver.
But, in time, the loom itself was supplied by the capitalist or
manufacturer; and then the journeyman, free from the master
weaver, came into direct relation with the manufacturer. This
is the system of home industry which existed in this country
2
�i8
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
for a considerable time, certainly till as late as the end of the
last century. And this is the system which obtains to a con
siderable extent in Russia at the present time. Employed in
the actual work of agriculture only a portion of the year, the
Russian farmer spends the remainder in weaving and bleaching.
The home system of industry has been passing away so
rapidly from this country that we are apt to connect all manu
facture with x the machinery and steam power in use in the
Lancashire cotton industry. But it is not so. And I venture
to say that by far the largest amount of production in the north
of Europe, in Asia, and Africa, and largely in America also,
consists of home-made goods, which, though dearer in price,
are in the end cheaper far than the trashy prints, and some
of the highly-sized calicoes and other inferior descriptions of
Manchester goods. The battle of the hand-loom against the
power-loom, of home industry against factory labour, is not yet
quite ended, for in not a few industries, especially in Nottingham
and Leicester, hand-loom weavers are numerous. But of the
final issue of the conflict who can doubt ? In truth, young men
o not take to the old and almost effete system. What remains
of it is carried on by old people, and for those descriptions of
labour only where the hand can work with more dexterity than
the machine itself. But how soon is machinery overtaking
every obstacle 1 And what a change has taken place in the
divorcement of manufacture from agriculture, in the creation
of great cities of labour, in the mode of producing on a
large scale, in the division of labour, and the introduction
of machinery!
From the moment the manufacturing system acquired a
sufficient importance to stand by itself, from the moment the
requirements of manufacture necessitated concurrence and co
operation in the various pursuits necessary for the same, the
manufacturers were compelled to emigrate from the farm
house and the sequestered village, and to constitute themselves
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
into distinct communities. Both industries are indeed inter
dependent. Agriculture gains from the existence of a thriving
manufacturing industry, and is the better for its products.
Manufactures depend upon a prosperous agriculture for a sufciency of food and provision. But the two industries are not
■capable of being prosecuted in like manner. Agriculture does
not admit of the same concentration of labour, of the same
■division of employment, and of the same constancy of labour.
Even steam-power can only be employed in agriculture under
less advantageous circumstances than in manufactures. The
experience of every nation abundantly proves that the more
absolute is the separation between the two industries, the better
■each may be developed in its own manner and fashion. Would,
indeed, that the agricultural could copy a little more from the
manufacturing industry than it appears to be doing ! How
much it has to learn in dealing with diversities of soil, in the
reclamation of waste lands, in the introduction of machines and
implements of husbandry, in the use of manure, and above all
in the economy of labour and the application of scientific prin
ciples in the management of farms ! Some writers used to
•distinguish agriculture from industry, the one being intent
upon the extraction of produce from the soil, the other upon the
shaping, converting, or manufacturing what nature supplies.
But it is not so. Agriculture and manufactures are both indus
tries requiring alike labour, skill, capital. In England, the
divorce is indeed complete ; but they had better look keenly to
one another, and each draw from the other the lessons which it
needs.
Look at Lancashire, the first county which inaugurated the
great change. See how coal and iron have superseded turf
and corn. Behold those illumined factories, with more (windows
than in Italian palaces, and smoking chimneys taller than
Egyptian obelisks. Everywhere you find monuments of in
domitable energy. All you see indicates the march of modern
�20
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
progress. Enter for a moment one of those numerous factories,,
behold the ranks of thousands of operatives all steadily working,
behold how every minute of time, every yard of space, every
practised eye, every dexterous finger, every active mind, is at
high-pressure service. There are no lumber attics nor lumber
cellars ; everything seems cut out for the work, and the work for
it. And what can be more wonderful than those factories far
the manufacture of machines ? Listen to the deafening din.
What power has mind over matter ! What metamorphoses can
human industry perform ! One hundred years ago, Manchester
had only 1,600 inhabitants. Now, with Salford, she has 500,000..
Three hundred years ago, Liverpool was only a fishing hamlet,,
with 138 inhabitants ; now she has 527>°°°. Whilst Westmore
land, a purely agricultural county, has 771 acres to one person,
Lancashire has only 0-43 acres to one person. In 1861, the town
population of England was in the proportion of twenty-four per
cent, of the whole. In 1871, her town population had increased
to such an extent that it constituted fifty-six per cent, of the
whole. The very meaning of the word town has changed.
Whilst in olden times it meant a tract of land enjoyed by a
community, though there might not be a single house in it; in
modern times it has come to signify a place with a multitude of
houses, built side by side, and standing in streets, rows, or
lanes, all as like one another as possible,— the very personation,
of the Coketown of the inimitable Dickens.
Shall we lament the change from the primitive industrial
organization of former days to the complex, and, in many ways,,
the artificial combination of the present time? Is England
the better or the worse for the change? Have the working
classes been injured or benefited by it ? Could we return to the
agricultural system if we would ? And would we return to it if
we could ? Compare the state of England a hundred years ago
and now, by any test you please, socially, politically, and morally,
in education, wealth, power, population, agriculture, and mann-
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
21
factures. Nothing has been stationary. On every side we note
change, progress, improvement.
There are evils connected
with the agglomeration of many people within fixed boundaries,
for where ignorance, vice, crime, exists, oh how contagious it be
comes ! And yet, if you compare the moral condition of the
agricultural and manufacturing districts, you will find that the
latter are by no means inferior to the former, for if there is
an army of evil-doers in our great cities, there are also many
regiments of those who do well. Call the present organization
of labour artificial, capitalistic, or by any title you please, yet
the fact remains that not only is it the inevitable result of
science, civilization, and economic progress, and therefore it
is of no use whatever grumbling about it, but it is on the whole
beneficial to the well-being of the people, an element of strength
and power to the nation at large.
Steam, whose power dwarfs the fabled feats of Grecian
prodigy, has not only torn asunder the manufacturing from
the agricultural industry, but has centred industrial labour
within large buildings and great factories. When human force
was the only motive power, work could as advantageously be
performed in the solitary chamber as in great centres of popu
lation ; but when a force greater than human was discovered,
which far exceeded the energies of any single individual, which
needed no rest, which could be transported anywhere, and
which could be regulated at discretion,—isolated working gave
place to factory labour, and production on a small scale was
immediately superseded by production on a large scale. Of
course, factory labour has its own evils,—but what human
system is free from them ? With a motive power at hand
capable of continuing without intermission, the temptation was
too strong to use human labour as unsparingly. The compara
tively light labour required to assist the machinery, prompted
the employment of women and children; and their strength, by
too long hours of employment, was taxed beyond measure. And
�22
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
so the Legislature had to interfere, in the way of fixing the
number of hours that women and children should be allowed to
work, of taking care that the education of such children shall
not be altogether neglected, of compelling proper precautionsagainst accidents from machinery, of providing for the health
of the workers, and of securing by the right of inspection
scrupulous compliance with the prescribed regulations. And
thankful we may be that the provisions of such laws have been
extended and strengthened, for we do need the protection of
the law against abuse of power, whether by masters or by men.
Apart, however, from such abuses which the law has set itself
to rectify, there is a great principle involved in the present
system of producing on a large scale of very wide reach and
application. Do we not see large farms, large shops, large jointstock companies, and large enterprises, fast superseding small
farms, small shops, small partnerships, and small enterprises ?'
And why? Simply because the expense of management and
the labour of administration do not increase in proportion to the
extension of the undertaking; because expensive machinery may
be more advantageously employed; and because greater economy
of power and administration is thereby obtained. In a largefactory, moreover, the master can exercise more supeiwision of
labour, can have more command over the detail of the work.
And the result is more production, more wealth. The more
united the forces, the greater the momentum.
And what shall I say of the division of labour, which produc
tion on a large scale permits ? Adam Smith has well noted the
increase of dexterity in every particular workman, the saving of
time spent in passing from one species of work to another, and
the happy contrivances for facilitating and abridging laboui
which such division of labour suggests and permits. Nothing, in
deed, is more natural, and yet nothing is more wonderful in the
present organization of labour, than the symmetry of its appor
tionment, the careful regard to the adaptation of the work to the
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
23
worker. But little consideration suffices to convince us that
the surest way to acquire a thorough knowledge of anything is
to concentrate our thoughts, and to devote our energies almost
exclusively upon the one thing before us. No science could be
cultivated with any hope of success, were it not that special
men give themselves to the innumerable researches which are
required for their development. The physician, the chemist,,
the botanist, the mineralogist, the astronomer, each takes upon,
himself the study of special phenomena in nature. Sir David.
Brewster made optics his special study; Professor Owen devoted
himself to fossils; Professor Liebig to organic chemistry
Professor Tyndal to light; Professor Huxley to physiology..
Mr. Glaisher made his experiments on balloon ascents; Dr.
Carpenter made observations on oceanic circulation. The
principle of the division of labour with a view to the greater
concentration of mental energies is of wide application, and,,
wherever applied, it of necessity leads to the greater efficiency
and economy of labour. How natural the division of labour
between agriculture, manufacture, and commerce ! How conso
nant with the laws of nature the preference given in different
countries to special industries 1 What is international commerce
but the result of an extended division of labour ? Of course the
division of labour is limited by the power of exchange. One
may confine himself to one specific branch of industry which
may satisfy one kind of wants only, provided on the one hand
he can find purchasers enough of that commodity as to render
it worth his while producing nothing else, and provided also
there are others ready to satisfy all the other wants. An ex
tended division of labour demands a large and varied con
sumption. In little villages where the consumption of groceries
is limited, the grocer is also the haberdasher, the stationer, the
innkeeper. In London we have shops for certain specific classes
of articles, and no more. But wherever the division of labour
can be advantageously adopted, it is certain to be attended with
�24
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
advantage, at least in an economic aspect. And yet, that too
has its evil, for it has certainly a tendency to concentrate the
mind too consecutively to one operation, and it may have the
effect of weakening a man’s power, and make him become a
mere machine. What fertility of invention, what independence
of thought can you expect from a man who is required to do
but one thing—say, to watch a pair of wheels, or to walk three
steps forward and three steps backwards—throughout his life
time? He will doubtless do that work more perfectly, more
quickly, more economically, but the monotony and the same
ness of the operation, and the want of excitement attending it,
are sure to take away any spirit he might have.
Alas 1 nothing pleases us. Undivided work is very unpro
ductive, too divided work is prejudicial to the human under
standing. I am not ignorant of, and we cannot ignore or deny,
the evils of the present organization of industry; but is it of
any use to complain of them ? Let us the rather strive to
neutralize what is prejudicial, and set into motion remedies and
influences which shall bring good out of evil. Let the church
and the school be active in their work of moral and intellectual
instruction. Let science and philanthropy devise good work
able plans for the well-being of the masses of people huddled
together in places unfit for human habitation. And if the
family circle has still to be broken by the employment of
women and children in factories, let us at least do our utmost
to check vice, waste, luxury, extravagance, betting, gambling,
drunkenness, and the license and wretchedness which meet us
on every side—the result, to a large extent, of a vicious social
system.
If it is to Watt and his wonderful engine that we owe the
use of the new motive power, steam, it is to Arkwright, Har
greaves, Crompton, and many more illustrious inventors and
discoverers, that we owe our machines and instruments for regu
lating the action of force. There is an intimate relation between
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
25
the division of labour and machinery. If, on the one hand, it is
the steam engine and machinery that have rendered division
of labour possible, it is to the division of labour that we owe
the large increase of machinery, The change wrought by
machinery is something wonderful, A woman habituated to
knit can make 80 stitches a minute. By the use of the circular
loom, she can now make 480,000 stitches a minute, showing
an increase of 6,000 times the quantity. To make by hand
all the yarn spun in England in one year, by the use of the
self-acting mule, carrying 1,000 spindles, viz., 1,000 threads
at the time, we would require 100,000,000 of men. I have just
spoken of knitting; but see what is done by the sewing machine.
To make a shirt by the hand it takes at least fourteen hours ; by
the machine, less than two hours. A pair of trousers cannot
be done by the hand in less than five hours; by the machine
it may be done in one. A woman’s chemise, which by the
hand would take ten hours and a half, may be completed by
the machine—ay, ornamented—in one hour. This is indeed
the era of machines. We have the calculating machine and
the electric machine. Hats are made by machinery, and so
are opera-glasses. There is a machine to mould the mortar,
a machine to make cigarettes, and a machine to make neck
cravats. There are machines for measuring the wind, the
evaporation, and the rain; machines for measuring the in
tensity and velocity of light; an instrument for measuring the
interval between the appearance of the flash and the arrival
of the sound; an instrument for measuring the pressure of the
atmosphere, and an instrument for measuring the ten-thousandth
part of an inch.
The machine is simple when it transmits
force in a direct manner; it is composite when it is composed
of so many organs all combined and acting together in the
transmission of force. But whether simple or complex, in
whatever form or description, as a machine, an instrument,
or a tool, their uniform tendency has been to take from the
�26
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
human hand some of the most drudgery work, to produce
largely, to bring within the reach of the lowest classes many
articles which were once rarities and luxuries. Machinery
has lightened human labour of the most irksome tasks, and
opened up to man the widest field for the exercise of his in
tellectual faculties. At one time it was muscular force that
performed most of our work. Now, it is art, it is design, it
is intellect. It is labour just the same, it is true, but it is
nobler, higher, and more befitting our place and destinies.,
more in keeping with our aspirations and ambition. Only
let workmen have sufficient dexterity in passing from one
kind of labour to another, and the introduction of machinery
is certain to prove a blessing, not a curse. But, alas ! it is that
capacity that is sometimes wanting.
Time was when inventions were the products of simple
vagaries, or freaks of the imagination, of ignorant pretenders or
mere charlatans. How to make a wheel turn by itself, and to
get at perpetual motion ; how to clean and keep bright the skin
and flesh so as to preserve it in its perfect state ; how to make
upon the Thames a floating garden of pleasure, with trees,,
flowers, and fountains, and all in the midst of the stream
where it is most rapid;—these were secrets and inventions of
former days which contributed but little to the well-being of
the people. Happily, the inventions, machines, and instru
ments of the present day are of a more utilitarian and sober
caste, and they have immensely augmented, not only the
wealth, but the comfort and the intelligence of the whole
nation—ay, of the whole world. And who are the inventors ?
In many cases our working men themselves, and, strange
to say, those very men who have to perform daily the same
monotonous work, to repeat over and over again the operation
of the same single member of a complicated whole. Yes,
our working men, our artizans, are often able to suggest im
provements in manufacture, and short cuts in workmanship,
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
27
which economise labour, and are of immense value to the pro
ducers. Would that they were justly rewarded! A working man
who has brain enough to invent a new article, or to use a new
process, has a full right to the fruits of his labour, and to be
rewarded for the product of his brain ; and I am glad to know
that sometimes, though not always, they do get the benefit of
their inventions, either in an increased salary, or in a portion of
the profits. Do not imagine, however, that the profits of an
invention can go to any considerable extent into the pockets of the
inventor, for the success of the invention depends often less on
the fact of the invention itself, than on the appliances, energy,
and capital employed in carrying it into practice. I should be
glad if the cost of a patent were greatly reduced, in order to
enable our working men to patent inventions for themselves even
before they communicate them to their own employers ; but oh
how often the most sanguine hopes are placed on worthless inven
tions, how soon they are superseded, how often they prove more
costly than they are worth ! On the whole, the profession of an
inventor is a profitless one, and it is this among other things
that has more than once suggested the expediency of abolish
ing the Patent Laws altogether.
That machinery has immensely benefited production, and
that it has placed a new engine of success in the hands of the
producer, is beyond doubt, for though still depending upon
labour, the machine enables the producer to spare a great
number of labourers, whilst it immensely economises the cost of
production. Once let him have a machine that will do the work
of a thousand men, with only ten persons attending to it, and he
is in a position to distance far any other manufacturer who
wholly depends on human labour. How often indeed a persist
ence on the part of the labourer in asking higher wages than
the business could afford, or demands of conditions of labour
incompatible with its success, or the refusal to perform certain
acts, or to allow other labourers to be introduced for their
�28
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
performance, have driven our manufacturers to introduce
machinery !
But how has machinery affected the working classes? An
inventor once proposed to Colbert, the great minister of Louis
XIV. of France, a machine which would do the work of ten
men. “ I am anxious,” said the minister, “ that men should be
able to live honestly by their work, and you propose to me to
take the work out of their hands. Take the invention, if you
please, somewhere else.” Statesmen are often as ignorant of
economic questions as the least among us, and just as when
railways were projected all manner of apprehensions were enter
tained lest horses, cattle, and carriages should cease to be
required, so when machines were introduced into any branch
of industry, the first thought was, Well, labourers will no longer
be wanted in it. But has it been so ? Calculate the number
employed in the occupation of transport and conveyance before
and since the adoption of the railway system,—the number
employed in the cotton manufacture, or any other textile
industry, before and since the introduction of machinery,—the
number employed in printing, copying, and publishing, before
and since the invention of the printing machine. The first
introduction of machinery may indeed displace and diminish
for a while the employment of labour, may perchance take
labour out of the hands of persons otherwise not able to take
another employment, and create the need of another class of
labourers altogether; but if it has taken labour from ten
persons, it has provided labour for a thousand. How does it
work? A yard of calico made by hand costs two shillings,
made by machinery it may cost fourpence. At two shillings a
yard, few buy it ; at fourpence a yard, multitudes are glad to
avail themselves of it. Cheapness promotes consumption : the
article which hitherto was used by the higher classes only, is
now to be seen in the hand of the labouring classes as well.
As’the demand increases, so production increases, and to such
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
■29
an extent, that although the number of labourers now employed
in the production of calico may be immensely less in proportion
to a given quantity of calico, the total number required for
the millions of yards now used greatly exceeds the number
engaged when the whole work was performed without any
aid of machinery.
And so as regards wages. Doubtless
a manufacturer who has to pay for the use of an invention and
for the cost and maintenance of the machinery, and who needs
only a few labourers able to perform some mechanical act,
might be tempted to take advantage of his position and to
offer less wages. But if the cost of production and the mainte
nance of the machinery are more than replaced by the profits
arising from increasing production, will not a large portion of
those profits, in one way or another, fall on the labouring classes ?
And if to wrork the machinery, in the production of immensely
larger quantities, the manufacturer requires more labourers than
ever he did in the palmy days of hand labour, where will be his
greater independence ? No, no ! Machinery may have decreased,
in some cases, the rates of wages, but it has in all cases increased
the total earnings of the labouring classes. It may have taken
labour out of some, impoverished a few, done injury here and
there, but it has given more labour to the community at large,
and has added immensely to the resources of the artisans
and labouring classes all the world over. M. Bastiat, in his.
excellent work on “ What is Seen and What is not Seen in.
Political Economy,” illustrated.the operation of machinery on
human labour in his usual spirited manner. “Jacque Bonhomme,” he said, “ had two francs, which he was in the habit of
paying to two workmen whom he employed. Suddenly, how
ever, having found out the means of abridging the work by
half, he discharged one workman, and so saved one franc.
Upon this, the ignorant is ready to exclaim, 1 See how misery
follows civilization! See how fatal is freedom to equality 1
The human mind has made a conquest, and immediately a
�3o *
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND
workman, falls into pauperism. Even if Jacque Bonhomme
should continue to employ the two workmen, he will only give
them half a franc each, for they will compete one with another,
and they will offer their labour for half the money.’ But it is
not so, since both the premises and the conclusions are false.
Behind the half of this phenomenon which is seen, there is
another half which is not seen ; for what does Jacque Bonhomme
do with the other franc, which he saved ? He employs it in
another work, and whilst the same work is done for one franc
by one workman which formerly required two to do it, extra
work is done with the other franc, which employs the other also.
The two workmen are as much employed as ever, but double
work is done, and so the invention has procured a gratuitous
benefit.”
The introduction of machinery should never be used as a
threat against the demands of labourers. It is mean to i esort to
such an expedient in order to frighten the labourers to acquiesce
in the conditions offered. But remember, machinery is of great
utility to production, and manufacturers may be compelled to
introduce it for the salvation, possibly, of the whole industry.
See what is taking place now in the watch manufacture of
Switzerland. Hitherto watchmaking at Geneva has been almost
entirely a hand-work industry.
But Switzerland stands in
danger of losing the industry altogether, since Germany and
America have learnt to make watches and clocks by machinery.
There is a certain protection, after all, against the sudden intro
duction of machinery in the fact that it is very costly, that it
requires great capital, that manufacturers are very unwilling to
alter their usual course of business, and that, in reality, in some
industries the hand has some advantage over the machine,
though machinery is now becoming so perfect and automatic
that it is impossible to say what it cannot accomplish. It
has been complained that the use of machinery often leads to
over-production, and to gluts of merchandize, which redounds
�THE WONDERS OF MACHINERY.
31
against the well-being of the masses especially by alternations of
great activity and great depression. But a large production of
articles of general use is always attended by increasing cheap
ness, and increasing cheapness most assuredly leads to an
enlarged demand, which soon absorbs any surplus production.
Machine and tool making has become' an important industry.
In x851 it employed in England and Wales 48,000 persons ; in
1861, 117,000; and in 1871, 175,000. In 1851 our exports of
steam engines, and other kinds, amounted to ,£1,168,000; in
I^75> to £4,213,000. We export engines and machinery to
every part of the world. Any one is now at liberty to order from
the British workshop the most complex and the finest piece of
machinery that can possibly be invented. It may be said, What
folly it is to injure ourselves by enabling foreign manufacturers
to obtain an advantage which is exclusively our owp ! True,
England has superior facilities for the manufacture of machinery
in her abundance of coal and iron, but the power of inventive
ness is not confined within the British shores. In 1824, the
Americans were considered as thirty years behind England, and
France was the only country which could be said to rival
England in the making of machinery. Since then, however,
and for many years past, foreign countries have made won
derful progress. As well attempt to shut up all the avenues
of science and knowledge as to secrete from public gaze the
discoveries and inventions which benefit industry and manu
facture.
It is well to realize that many of the primary conditions
necessary to the development of manufacturing industry are
no longer exclusively enjoyed by any country, and it would be
folly for the British manufacturer to remain content and tran
quil, as if he needed to dread no competition, and as if he
could be sure to continue to enjoy the practical monopoly of
the markets of the world.. Greater command over capital,
the possession of mineral resources almost boundless in extent
�32
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR, ETC.
and productiveness, greater commercial sagacity and power of
enterprise, have hitherto kept and may yet keep Britain on a
position of eminence above all her competitors; but in every
one of these elements, France, Germany, Switzerland, and the
United States are striving to advance; and with the most
powerful machinery within the reach of every one, who can
say how soon, from eager competitors, they may become for
midable rivals? It would be a great mistake indeed on the
part of our manufacturers^ to imagine that their only hope to
preserve their supremacy rests in their being able to keep the
wages of labour low. I have no faith in any plan which
begins by starving the labourer. The essentials of real pro
gress must ever consist in increasing power of production, in
greater adaptiveness of our manufactures to the wants of the
masses of the people at home and abroad, and in greater
skill and advancement in the arts and sciences. Emulate
other nations in their efforts to combine beauty with usefulness,
elegance with solidity. Let nothing discourage the investment
of capital in industry. Furbish your intellect to achieve greater
wonders than were ever yet imagined. Let Capital and Labour
march hand in hand, and England need not fear being out
done, however keen the contest, however close the issue.
�III.
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
On the sea-coast of Sicily there was once a wild, lawless,
gigantic race, who, with one eye in the middle of their forehead,
but with strong hands, were constantly employed in forging
thunderbolts for Jupiter. And in this island of Britain, there
are many sons of the sturdy Saxon race who, with two eyes
and both wide open, are constantly forging capital, not for
Jupiter, but for the whole world. A disposition to labour, to
save, and to accumulate ; a growing conviction that wealth is
power, whatever knowledge may be; a keen relish of the
comforts of life, which wealth to a large extent provides ; a
decided aptitude for commerce, industry, and enterprise ; con
fidence in the public institutions of the country; and a firm
reliance on the impartial administration of justice,—these, to
gether with those wonderful inventions and discoveries which
have so enlarged the range and utility of human labour, have
rendered Britain the great storehouse of capital, and at this
moment borrowers from every nation are for ever coming to
this modern Egypt, to buy capital of the living J osephs,—the
Bank of England, the Rothschilds, the Barings, and many
others who keep the keys of the coveted granary. An enviable
position this for England to occupy. The taunt of contempt
once expressed by the title La Nation Boutiquiere (the shop
keeping nation), only betokens the sentiment of jealousy which
3
�34
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
♦
France once felt for this new power in the hands of England.
But if England has got riches, it is because she has been
industrious. If the broad acres of old England have become
more luxurious and productive, if her mineral stores have become
a source of perennial wealth, if her cities are full of people, and
her manufacturing industry has become the wonder of all nations,
it is simply because English labour and English perseverance
have combated valorously with the obstacles presented by
nature. What is the ocean to the daring British manner?
Boldly to the depths of the earth the British miner will
venture, fearing nothing. Nature’s inexhaustible riches and
powers have all along animated the British discoverer to make
unknown sacrifices. And so the British have thriven.
We might suppose that by this time every country would
have become rich. With an old civilization, an immense
population, untold resources, and varied opportunities, what
is it that hindered the accumulation of wealth, and kept
nearly every state in a condition of poverty? Alas! the
work of destruction has been even more effective than the
work of production. The warlike policy of the Roman Empire
was not favourable to the production of wealth. . In the
Middle Ages, whatever was achieved by the thriving cities was
more than destroyed by the injurious influence of feudalism and
barbarism.
Insecurity of person and property discouraged
accumulation. Monopoly diverted the streams of wealth into
narrow channels. Vicious fiscal systems often corroded the
very sources of wealth. The Thirty Years’ War, the Seven
Years’ War, and the French War, brought desolation into every
home, and destroyed, not only all that had theretofore been
produced, but even the produce of years to come, Can we
wonder that under such circumstances but little or nothing
was accumulated ? Cast a glance beyond Europe. In Asia
there has been much hoarding of wealth, but no accumulation
and no workable capital. India has been rather the absorbent
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
35
than the producer of capital. Africa is as yet destitute both
of wealth and capital. And America, the land of promise for
capital, is still, comparatively speaking, a new country, where
the means of investment are always greater than the available
resources for the same. There is no end of openings all over
the world for the disposal of British capital; and for the interest
of the great mass of our population we may well desire that,
whatever the competition, British industry and commerce may
ever prove the safest and the most advantageous investment of
British capital.
Does it seem an easy thing to you to accumulate capital?
Look around. See the vast numbers of persons who find it hard
enough to get their daily bread, and to make the two ends meet.
See the vast numbers earning a good income, yet spending it as
fast as it comes, and never thinking of saving a farthing, far less
of accumulating any capital. Think of the numbers who strive
hard to save, but who, after succeeding for a time, are compelled
to give up the attempt from sickness, misfortune, or losses.
Think of the vicissitudes of trade, changes of fashion, and new
inventions which from time to time disconcert the best conceived
plan. What violent efforts, and what sudden collapses, what
heaving and subsiding, what flow and ebb of fortune, do we wit
ness ! How many try, how few succeed ! It is easy compara
tively to accumulate after a good foundation has been laid ;
but how hard it is to lay that foundation. What judgment,
what decision of will, what disposition to economise, there must
exist to have the slightest chance of success. Doubtless the
present division of property is not all that could be wished.
The laws of primogeniture and entail favour the accumulation
of wealth, at least in land, in comparatively few hands.
Those rich enough to pay income tax on any amount of
profits of trade and industry are only about 16 for every
1000 of the population of Great Britain, and of these much
less than one in 1,000 (0'65) pay on incomes amounting to
�36
USE OF CAPITAL iN INDUSTRY.
^1,000, and upward, per annum. Yet the number of capitalists
might be immensely greater were there more thrift, more com
mon prudence, and more practical wisdom among the people.
I do not speak of the working classes only, but of the middle
and higher classes quite as much, or more. Would that they
had the wisdom to lay by something for a rainy day when they
have a chance of doing so ! Would that they used and not
abused the means which Providence places within their reach !
Realize, I pray you, what capital really is, and what a useful
commodity it is to every nation. Generally speaking, capital
is that portion of an individual’s or of a nation’s wealth which
is applied to reproduction. All property becomes capital so
soon as it, or the value received from it, is set apart for pro
ductive employment. By dint of industry, a shilling to-day,
a pound to-morrow, you gather ^ioo. You resolve to have
a home of your own, and to employ ^25 in furnishing
it, and with the ^75 remaining you determine to set up
a shop. You have got, indeed, ZIO° of your own, but only
^75 of capital.
Just as wealth, in its economic mean
ing, consists of all those things, and those things only,
which are transferable, limited in supply, and directly or
indirectly productive of value, so capital, which is part of that
wealth, must bear the same characteristic. There are many
things most valuable in themselves, which are not, in their strict
economic sense, capital. Capital does not include the instru
ments furnished by nature, without our aid. The water of the
sea, the air we breathe, are not capital, unless, indeed, by labour
we enclose a portion of the sea, or introduce the air into a
building. Capital consists of those things which are created,
and which were previously accumulated by man. To be capital,
moreover, the possession must be a material object, and capable
of transfer. The skill of an artist, the genius of a composer, the
wisdom of a statesman, the talent of a man of letters, the health
and strength of a labourer, are doubtless so many valuable
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
37
endowments to their respective possessors, but they are not of.
a material character, and cannot be transferred. If English
statesmen could transfer a little of their wisdom to the French ;
if British labourers could endow their confreres in France with
a little of their strength and steadiness of purpose; if French
artizans could pass over to British artizans part of their fertility
of invention, and their quickness of perception, what a market
there would be for them all! But these personal endowments
cannot be sold or bought, and, therefore, they do not corrie
within the meaning of the word capital.
I do not know what we should do without capital.
The
riches of nature are profusely scattered, some on the surface
and some on the very bowels of the earth; and human labour is
required to make them subservient to the many uses for which
they are adapted.
Few things are the spontaneous, unaided
gifts of nature, requiring no exertion for their production.
Nature offers its powers and its products.
Industry and
labour discover their latent utility, and surmount the diffi
culties of obtaining such products, and of giving them their
requisite modification.
‘' I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ;
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and white eglantine.” *
Yet who is ignorant of the wonders of gardening ? What
triumphs of skill do we see in a streak, a tint, a shade
secured by the morning care, the evening caution, and the
vigilance of days bestowed by the diligent horticulturist.
Even labour, however, cannot always act singly. It needs
the aid of tools, implements, and machines. There are in the
United Kingdom immense tracts of cultivable land. Will it
do simply to employ any number of men or women to till, to
plough, to sow, to reap? No. The farmer must erect the
* Shakspeare.
�38
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
steadings. He must clear and drain. He must eradicate noxious
weeds, must make the road, the bank, the fence, the bridge.
He must purchase guano or some other fertilizer. He must have
a sufficient number of live stock. He must have the grubber, the
roller, the harrow, the rake, the reaping machine, the thrashing
machine ; ay, even the steam plough, and the steam engine, if
he can afford it. How can these be obtained, unless there be
something left of previous accumulation whereby to get them ?
Now that something is—Capital. The labourers in the act of
producing must be fed and clothed.
From whom can they
expect their sustenance but from the capitalist ? The very first
use of capital, therefore, is to provide such commodities as are
employed in producing wealth and in supplying the fund neces
sary for supporting labour.
Capital is used in all manner of ways for purposes of repro
duction. We often see our manufacturers intentionally destroy
ing it, in order to obtain the effects which are the direct
consequences of its destruction ; as, for example, they consume
coal in the furnace that they may produce iron. They are
content to see capital used up little by little as in machinery,
or consent to vary its very kind by manufacturing, or shaping
it in new forms, as in the case of cotton, wool, or other raw
material.
Subject certain quantities of cotton and wool to
certain processes ; destroy, in fact, their identity, and you obtain
in their stead shirts, drawers, gloves, shawls, stockings, hose.
Subject wool and woollen yarn to other processes, and you have
Brussels carpets, tapestry, velvets, felt, blankets, beaveis,
flannel, coverlets, etc. Capital is given away in wages as
reward for labour. It is employed in providing, extracting,
or producing materials, as in agriculture, mining, fisheries,
manufactures. It is invested in roads, railways, shipping. But
in whatever way it is employed, capital is the spring, the mover
of labour, and scarcely any work can be accomplished without
t. The greater, indeed, the amount of capital accumulated, the
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
39
larger the amount of work executed. What egregious folly it is
to call capital the natural foe of labour, and the capitalist the
jealous rival of labour. Instead of being an incubus on the
energies of the labourer, or the weight that crushes him down,
capital is the very prop and stay of labour, it is the indispensable
means of all employment, and of all reward of labour.
But there is a difference in the method of employing capital.
On a closer examination of what is required for production, in
the very instances already given, you will find that part of the
capital is employed in works of a permanent character, and part
for temporary and fluctuating purposes. If you wish to establish
a cotton mill, you must needs build the factory and purchase the
machinery ; if you will construct iron works, you must have the
furnaces ; if you will give yourself to agriculture, you must im
prove the land. Now capital so employed cannot be withdrawn
at pleasure. It is for all practical purposes sunk; and all you
may derive from it is a yearly rent or interest. This is techni
cally called fixed capital. But to work the factory, to produce
iron, to cultivate grain or fruit, you must get the raw material,
pay wages, buy the seed, and provide for the thousand require
ments of the business. And this is circulating or floating capital.
The fixed capital of the hunter consists of his gun and dog;
the floating, of powder and shot. The boat and net are the
fixed capital of the fisherman; any food in the boat is the float
ing. The warehouse is the fixed capital of the trader, and so
are his weights or machines ; his stock in trade and effects are
his floating capital. There is this further difference between
fixed and circulating capital, that whilst the fixed always re
mains, the circulating is always spent. You buy land for a
railway, that land remains. You pay money in wages, it goes.
Do not imagine, however, that what is termed fixed capital is
absolutely fixed or indestructible, or that what is termed float
ing is really lost. In truth, the fixed capital, unless renewed,
is in time completely lost. The floating, though temporarily
�40
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
departing, always returns. That the whole floating capital em
ployed, together with a certain amount of profits, shall return,
is the whole aim of the capitalist. Alas if it does not return !
And remember, too, that as all fixed capital must come originally
from the operation of circulating capital, and must be fed by it,
—no factory, no machine being obtainable except by first pro
viding, and afterwards sustaining, labour,—so no fixed capital
can, by any possible means, give a revenue except by the use
of circulating capital; for what is the use of building the factory,
or purchasing a piece of land, unless you are able and prepared
to manufacture cotton or woollen, or to cultivate the ground ?
At home and abroad, wherever this wonderful element, capital,
is distributed, it is employed as floating and as fixed in certain
proportions, not always precisely the same, but still pretty well
balanced. In truth, it is quite a misadventure when either form
takes an undue share of public attention. Suppose, for instance
the construction of public works should require the conversion
of any considerable part of floating into fixed capital, and what
follows ? There will be much less left for the general wants of
trade and ordinary purposes of manufacture, and serious incon
venience may ensue from it.
I wish I could give you some idea of the extraordinary sums
of capital required to carry on the industries of this country.
There are in the United Kingdom some 47,000,000 acres of
land under cultivation, on which farmers sometimes invest
y^'io or ^15 per acre. Allow ^5 10s. per acre on the average,
and you have ^258,000,000 required for agriculture. We have
a large number of industries whose very existence depends
on the constant flow of capital. Some ^80,000,000 sterling
are required for the cotton manufacture; some ^40,000,000
for the woollen; some ^30,000,000 for the iron industry ;
some £70,000,000 for our mercantile marine. Just imagine the
amount required to carry on the foreign trade of the country
--those distant trades, especially, with Australia, India, China,
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
4i
and Japan, which do not allow of quick returns. As many
as ^600,000,000 of capital are invested in our railways, and
I cannot tell you how much has been invested by British
capitalists in public undertakings for water, gas, and docks, in
banking and insurance, and in a hundred other objects at home
and abroad. Yes, abroad also ; for immense sums of capital
are constantly going out from Britain to every part of the
world, to fructify the soil of native industry, to fill waste places,
and to construct great public works. And what a drain is
caused by foreign loans, that new, and in many respects novel,
species of gambling of the present day. Scarcely a year passes
but we have princes and potentates, wealthy states and puny
republics, knocking at the door of the British Stock Exchange
for a new loan. At this moment, a large portion of the debt of
most states in the world, probably ^300,000,000, and more, is
due to British capitalists. This is the way in which capital
is employed. It will not do to keep capital idle, for idleness is
sure to bring about its own punishment. Take it into your head
that you will not work, and of course you get no wages. That
is your well-deserved punishment.
Let capital be kept idle,
and it will bring no interest. That is its punishment. It would
be interesting to know in what proportion capital is employed
respectively in British industry, commerce, and shipping, and
foreign enterprises and loans. I wTill not venture on bold esti
mates, but what is it that determines what specific investment
shall be preferred? Nothing else than what offers the best ad
vantage. It is the same with large as with small transactions.
A fourth or a half per annum per cent, will turn the scale,
whether I will buy American or British funded securities. One
or two per cent, will determine whether agriculture or manufac
tures shall be preferred. It is wonderful what a little difference
often turns the scale, But, mind you, it makes all the differ
ence to those who are to participate in the benefit arising from
the employment of capital, how capital is eventually invested.
�42
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
There is a great difference, for instance, in the various
proportions in which capital is distributed among the several
agents of production even as between different industries. It
has been calculated in France, that for every hundred francs
produced, fifteen go in labour, fifty-five in materials, and the
remainder in the maintenance of fixed capital, fuel, adminis
tration, and profits. According to the census of the United
States for 1870, out of $100 produced, eighteen go in labour,
fifty-six in raw materials, and the rest in interest and ad
ministration.
What are the proportions in England it is
difficult to say, but all industries are not alike. In industries
where the material is of no great value, the proportion
falling on labour for wages may even exceed the proportion
required for the material. But there are industries of just
the reverse character, where the value of the material far
exceeds every other element in the cost of production. In
the production of flour, which is only a process in the further
utilization of wheat, in calico-printing, bleaching, and dyeing,
in the reduction of gold and silver, in the refining of sugar,
the proportion of the produce falling on wages is comparatively
small, in some cases four, six, and eight per cent., and no more.
In the production of hardwares, glass wares, furniture, cotton
goods, bricks, and ship-building, the proportion of the product
falling on labour ranges from twenty to thirty per cent. I have
often been struck at the incongruity exhibited by a man constantly
touching gold and silver, silk or woollen, of the finest description,
yet he himself poor and half-starving. Walk to Spitalfields,
and see the poor silk weaver: he is manufacturing some magni
ficent velvet, or some splendid moire antique; he must be a
‘trusty man, for he is trusted with the material in his own home ;
he must have considerable knowledge of his work, and he must
be at great expense in the maintenance of the loom, and even in
house rent, for he must have as much space and light as he can.
Ask what are his wages, and he will tell you that he has the
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
43
poorest wages, often not better than a common labourer can
earn. Go to a cotton factory, and you see men and women
apparently simply watching a machine, or performing some
mechanical act, now taking a lump of cotton from one place
to another, and again replacing a single thread on the spindle.
Ask what is their earning, and you will find that they get
handsome wages.
Why this difference ? In the one case
the raw material is very dear, and takes away considerable
part of the produce; in the other it is very cheap, and
leaves a good share to be divided among the workers. The
dearer the raw material, whether ordinarily or exceptionally, the
worse for the labourer and the manufacturer, for often in the
difficulty of obtaining the full price the only alternative left is
to work at reduced wages and profits. Happily, in England,
the great bulk of our manufactures are the products of raw
materials of comparatively little value. Whilst France is the
home of the silk manufacture, England is the seat of the cotton
and iron industries. It will not do, however, to say we should
pick and choose the industries which give the best return to
labour. Whatever is most beneficial to capital must also be
equally beneficial to labour, and you may be sure of this, that
the watchful eye of the capitalist will ever be on the outlook
to make a good selection for his investments.
It is difficult to say what we should most dread, either an
unlimited growth of capital, or any sudden stoppage of accumu
lation ; for an unlimited growth would inevitably be followed by
a diminution of profit, and a consequent discouragement of
industry; and a diminution of capital would have results still
more disastrous. As yet, we are -thankful to say, there is no
danger either of the one or of the other. Capital is growing in
England at an enormous ratio. But the demand for capital both
at home and abroad is greater than ever. Nor is it a bad thing,
after all, that some of our surplus should find its way abroad.
John Stuart Mill attributed to the perpetual overflow of capital
�44
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
to colonies or to foreign countries, to seek higher profits than
can be obtained at home, the principal cause by which the
decline of profits in England has been arrested. This, he said,
has a twofold operation. “ In the first place, it does what a fire,
or an inundation, or a commercial crisis, would have done ;—it
carries off a part of the increase of capital from which the
reduction of profits proceeds. Secondly, the capital so carried
off is not lost, but is chiefly employed either in founding colonies,
which become large exporters of cheap agricultural produce, or
in extending, and perhaps improving, the agriculture of older
communities. It is to the emigration of English capital, that we
have chiefly to look for keeping up a supply of cheap food and
cheap materials of clothing, proportioned to the increase of our
population : thus enabling an increasing capital to find employ
ment in the country, without reduction of profits, in producing
manufactured articles with which to pay for this supply of raw
produce. Thus, the exportation of capital is an agent of great
efficacy in extending the field of employment for that which
remains ; and it may be said truly, that up to a certain point,
the more capital we send away the more we shall possess and
be able to retain at home.” Fear not, indeed, the exportation
of capital, so long as it goes to fertilize the land, to create
new means of transport, to animate industry, and to strengthen
and invigorate labour in America, India, Australia, or any part
of the world. But fear such exportation when it goes to act as
the sinews of war, when it is to be employed for destruction,
and not for production, Better far to sink capital into the
deep, than to lend it to any power in Europe—ay, to the British
Government itself—for the support of a warlike policy in any
quarter, and for any purpose whatever.
It is good, after all, to be able to say that, however selfish
and materialistic it may seem at first sight, political economy
has this redeeming characteristic, that it does not teach us to
hide our light under a bushel, to keep what we have to ourselves
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
45
and for ourselves. If you have gathered capital, let it out; do
not keep it in your pocket, nor hide it in an old stocking.
If you have any talent, let it shine. Use it liberally for your
selves and for others. I remember reading a happy illustration
of the principle in question as applied to literary pursuits in
“Excelsior,” a charming publication, edited by the late Dr.
Hamilton. “An earnest mind,” he said, “is not a bucket, but
a fountain; and as good thoughts flow out, better thoughts flow
in. Good thoughts are gregarious. The bright image or spark
ling aphorism, the gold or silver of capital,—fear not to give it
wing, for, lured by its decoy, thoughts of sublimer range and
sunnier pinion will be sure to descend and gather round it. As
you scatter, you’ll increase. And it is in this way that, whilst
many a thought that might have enriched the world has been
buried in a sullen and monastic spirit, like a crock of gold in
a coffin, the good idea of a frank and forth-spoken man gets
currency, and after being improved to the advantage of thou
sands, has returned to its originator with usury. It has been
lent, and so it has not been lost; it has been communicated,
and so it has been preserved ; it has circulated, and so it has
increased.”
We should all remember that, in one sense or another, we are
all capitalists. In an economic sense, labour is an element
distinct from capital. But in a better sense—for it is the sense
of common experience—we stand much more on a level. We are
all labourers, and all capitalists. Taking the working classes
at two-thirds of the entire population, and assuming an average
weekly aggregate earning of thirty shillings for each family of 4'50
persons, the entire income of the working classes will amount
to ^400,000,000 per annum, probably quite as much as the
income of all the middle and higher classes together. You, the
working classes, destitute of all capital, a class distinct from the
capitalists ? What folly ! Multiply that earning of yours at ten
years’ purchase, and your property in your labour income from
�46
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
all sources is worth ^4,000,000,000. Away with all jealousy
between Labour and Capital ! We are all interested in each
other’s welfare : on the success of the capitalist your income
depends ; and on your welfare and happiness, the capitalist’s
chief strength must ever rest.
Moralists have often been led to decry the all-absorbing eager
ness of the present age in the pursuit of wealth, and fears have
been expressed lest the love of money should engross far too much
the heart and mind of the nation,—lest, instead of seeking wealth
as an instrument for the purchase of ease and enjoyment, both
the ease and the enjoyment of a whole life should be rendered
up a sacrifice to its shrine,—lest, instead of its being desired as a
minister of gratification to the appetites of nature, it should bring
nature itself into bondage, robbing her of all her simple delights,
pouring wormwood into the current of her feelings, making that
man sad who ought to be cheerful. Well might Matthew Henry
say, “ There is a burden of care in getting riches ; fear in keep
ing them ; temptation in using them ; guilt in abusing them;
sorrow in losing them ; and a burden of account at last to be
given up concerning them.”
But let us not ignore or forget the many benefits derived from
wealth ; and whilst we condemn an excessive devotion to its
pursuit, let us be ready to acknowledge that the acquisition of
wealth is good in itself as the reward of well-directed labour, of
industry, frugality, and economy. And look at the results !
What power of attraction, what magic influence, does capital
possess ! What wonders does it achieve ! Behold the embodi
ments of capital in our halls and palaces, docks and warehouses,
factories and workshops, railways and canals, parks and plea
sure grounds. What a mighty power is capital, even in politics !
Three millions of British sovereigns haye silenced the grumbling
of the Americans for the concession of belligerent rights to the
Confederate States, and the raids of the Alabama and other
privateers on American shipping. Four millions of hard sove-
�USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
47
reigns have procured to England an interest in the Suez Canal.
What is it that renders Britain so influential in the council of
the nations ? What is it that placed this nation, once so ob
scure, in the foremost place in civilization and science ? Whence,
but by the expenditure of much treasure, has Britain been
rendered the healthy and courted resort of princes and nobles
from all countries ? Look around, and see what wealth is
capable of performing,—what monuments it has raised,—what
agencies it has called into activity,—what encouragement it
has afforded to science, art, and discoveries. What but wealth
has procured for Britain those store-houses of knowledge which
enrich our museums and galleries ? And what but the exist
ence of a class in the full enjoyment of ease and wealth has
given to the nation the immense benefit of a large number of
men who, with refined taste and enlarged views, can give them
selves to those higher objects which foster civilization and
science ? It is the glory of England that she possesses so
many men of position and wealth, who, eschewing the tempta
tion of ease and luxury, are thankful if they are selected to
preside over our hospitals, to take their share in the maintenance
of order and justice, to devote themselves to legislation, to take
an active part in the laborious task of our School Boards.
Many are the examples of liberality, moreover, which redeem
wealth from the charge of sordid avarice or cold unconcern for
human suffering. The names of George Moore and George
Peabody, of Samuel Morley and the Baroness Coutts, are
household words in the national catalogue of benefactors :—
“Those are great souls, who touch’d with warmth divine,
Give gold a price, and teach its beams to shine ;
All hoarded pleasures they repute a load,
Nor think their wealth their own, till well bestow’d.”
And let any cry of distress be heard, do we not see at once a
flow of liberality to mitigate its pressure ? Yes ! let wealth
continue to diffuse blessings such as these, and what a crop of
�^g
USE OF CAPITAL IN INDUSTRY.
beneficence will be gathered !
How much misery will be alle
viated ! What amount of ignorance will be removed 1. What
high purposes will be served 1 In the work of production and
distribution of wealth, most of us are immediately interested.
Let us be thankful for the measure of prosperity this work of
ours procures for us. Let us remember that, whether rich or
poor in gold and silver, it is always in our power to possess the
godlike happiness of doing good, to be benefactors to others,
and to have a perpetual spring of peace and joy in ourselves.
�IV.
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
Are the working classes at this moment receiving such wages as
they are entitled to have ? Do they participate fully and justly in
the produce of their labour ? Do they get a just reward for the
work they perform ? These are the questions before us this
evening ; and certainly I know of no other social theme which
has called forth more continuous, more keen, and more interest
ing controversy. We all know that labour is indispensable for
production, that it must be performed with energy, health, and
intelligence, that it is economised by machinery, and rendered
more productive by the division of labour,—and that, as a whole,
labour is exercised in England under circumstances, physical,
economical, and political, far superior to those of many other
countries. Now let us bring labour face to face with capital, that
element so much dreaded for its power and influence, yet without
which labour cannot proceed. On the one hand, we have the
labourer hard at work in the business of life j on the other, the
capitalist, bringing to the help of labour the fruit of his saving, yet
trying to economise it, and to render it as useful as possible.
Labourers both they are, the labourer and the capitalist, because
all capital is the fruit of labour—saved, not wasted, and em
ployed in reproduction. Whilst, however, there lie before us
the two parties in the great conflict, ever at issue, ever jealous
of one another, and now and again coming to an open struggle,
4
�5°
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
let us keep in mind that the two great factors in the determina
tion of the reward of labour, are not capital and labour, but the
producers on the one hand, as including both labour and capital,
and the consumers on the other. On what condition can the
interests of all parties be satisfactorily established, and any
seeming divergence reconciled ?
I do not know how far you are prepared to give heed to what
economists have to say on a question which so touches your
interest to the quick. I have heard the science charged with
being cold and unsympathetic, yet I believe that its dictates
ought to be listened to with attention, for Adam Smith and
John Stuart Mill, Jean Baptiste Say and Michel Chevalier, did
not give their oracles as from the gods, but as the result of
induction from ascertained facts. And whence the immense
accumulation of wealth within the last quarter of a century,
in which the labouring classes have so much participated,
but from the recognition of the principles of economic science
and the practical application of their dictates to national
legislation ?
The machinery of production and distribution is much more
complicated than we are apt to imagine, for it extends back
to the manifold operations connected with the production and
acquisition of the raw materials, tools, and factories, and reaches
far and away, through manifold ramifications, till the produce
finds its way into the hands of the consumer. In a primitive
state of society, a labourer may easily cut a tree and build a
hut for himself, or work on the virgin soil and draw from it a
scanty subsistence ; but it is not so in the present advanced
civilization. The raw materials come from the most distant
regions. The tools, machines, and instruments are the pro
ducts of exquisite skill. The motive power is no longer the
running steam or the rushing wind.
How extensive, how
systematic, how economically adapted everything must be ere
a labourer can enter into his labour! What scheming, what
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
Si
.organization, what foresight are required in the master in the
conduct of all his operations 1 What a number of agents !
How many are the instrumentalities required to bring the pro
duce within the reach of the consumer, in towns and hamlets,
at home and abroad ! Travel among the Exquimaux or the
Hottentots, penetrate Asia or America, visit the Fair of Nijni
Novgorod, and the bazaars at Constantinople, and everywhere
you find British goods. How came they there? What toil,
what expenditure to bring them there ! How much of the pro
duce of such goods falls into the hands of the producer in
England, and how much is divided and subdivided among the
merchants and traders, carriers and shipmasters, agents and
brokers, engaged in their transmission, who can say ?
Nor is it easy to ascertain how the net amount which eventually
falls into the hands of the producer should be distributed
between the master and the workmen, the capitalist and the
labourer. Deeply interested alike in the results of production,
interdependent on one another for its success, we might fancy
they might easily agree to act jointly in a kind of partnership.
But can the labourer wait till the article is completed and sold,
to divide the proceeds with the capitalist ? Can he work on
the chance that the article may be sold or prove profitable ?
Better for him, in most cases, to receive something prompt and
certain, than a larger sum at a distant time, and contingent on
the success of the enterprise. Nor would such an agreement
answer the interest of the master, for he must look to the best
time for selling his merchandize, and he cannot expose himself
to the pressure of the labourers, or to the danger of disagree
ment. Better for them both to substitute for such an uncertain
issue, which might in the end prove satisfactory to neither party,
the contract of wages, or the purchase and sale of certain labour
for a certain renumeration, the workmen consenting to have
their share of the profits, whatever they be, or their chance
of profit or loss, commuted into a fixed payment. Only let it
�'52
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
be understood that in entering into such a contract the parties
agree on the mutual recognition of property in capital and
labour, and on the absolute freedom on the part of both, the one
to demand, and the other to give, whatever their respective
interests may dictate.
The business of production is one requiring extreme nicety
of calculation. To accept a contract for the building of a
house, to undertake the working of a mill, or to rent a farm,
are alike operations the success of which depends on the
careful estimate of receipts and expenditure. We often speak
of the master as the capitalist, but the capital he requires is a
commodity having a market value, and the cost of which he
must take into account. You wish to establish a cotton mill.
the mill itself may cost you some ^30,000 in land’ bulld'
ings, steam-engines, gas-works, warehouses, and all the fixed
requisites, besides a per centage per annum for repair and
dilapidation. Beyond this, as much capital will be required
for the machinery; and to that, too, a still larger per centage
per annum must be added for wear and tear, and renewal
when worked out. Then you need capital to purchase cotton
and stock for carrying on the trade. You have the insurance
to pay, and the expense of taxes, engines, horses, the weekly
contengencies of oil, tallow, etc.; and the most important
item, the interest of all this capital, which varies from time
to time from 2| to io per cent, per annum. Add now, the
wages of labour, and the remuneration due to the master for
the labour and talent required in the administration—talent
often of a very high order,—and you can form a fair estimate of
the cost of the article produced. But can the manufacturer
count upon recovering the whole of his cost from the consumer ?
Ultimately, indeed, the value of any article is regulated by the
cost of production, whatever that be ; but is there no probability
that the competition between the producers within the same or
in different countries, or the inability of the consumers, may
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
53
compel the producer to sell at prices lower than he had calcu
lated. And if so, the cost of capital and other commodities being
the same, must not the master, if he is to continue to produce,
lower the wages of labour and be content to do himself with
less remuneration ?
It is objected, that before thinking of lowering the wages, the
master should see whether some economy might not be effected
in the expense of distribution, which often absorbs so large a
portion of the produce of an article. It is possible that some
economy may be effected in this direction, but in this matter
the producer is often helpless, the business of production
being quite distinct from that of distribution. Do not imagine
that it would be economy if the producer should attempt to
take into his own hands the business of distribution, for would
he not require double the number of agents, a corresponding
increase in the amount of capital, and double the amount of
profits? But allowing the necessity of lowering both profits
and wages, it is asserted that it must still remain at the
option of the workman whether he will sell his labour at the
lower rates. No one can certainly question the right of the
workman to act on his own judgment in the matter. All I
venture to assert is that the master may be compelled by the
circumstances of trade to offer to his workmen less wages for
the future than he was wont to give for the past. If they will
not accept such lower wages, the master cannot help it, but the
chances are that if they insist on refusing the offer production
may be thereby suspended, for surely the master may be credited
for using the best means in his power to carry on his business,
not only without interruption, but in peace and harmony with
his men, if he can possibly do so.
The motive power which prompts a master in accepting a
contract for the building of a house, in undertaking the working
of a mill, or the renting of a farm, is doubtless profit. It is
with a view to profit that he emplo- s his own capital, and
�54
the reward of labour.
Whatever additional capital may be required in his business ;
and it is with a view to profit that he employs his labourers.
To succeed the master must seek to economise the use of
every element which affects the cost of the produce ; must
choose the best market for it; must endeavour to maintain his
productive power, and avoid any break or interruption of work.
But do you think that it is the interest of the employer to starve
his labourers ? I venture to say, the employer is fully conscious
of the fact that those whom he employs, must be able to live
by their work, that they must educate their children, and they
must have a share of relaxation and enjoyment, without which
life becomes a burden. The master cannot forget that the
best way to make his labourers work well is to pay them well,
or as well as the state of business permits, to keep them happy
and cheerful, strong and healthy ; and he knows, too, full well,
that if he will deal justly by his labourers, they will neither neg
lect their work nor be disaffected, they will neither complain nor
be disposed to strike. Only, the master cannot always control
the course of the market, and he may be compelled to lower the
wages and reduce his profits, lest by keeping the cost of pro
duction too high, he should become unable to compete with the
foreign producers, or to meet the ability of the consumers, and
so lose his custom altogether.
‘ Where is the guarantee, however, that the employer will act
fairly in such calculations ? What if his intentions be solely to
force the labourers to accept lower wages with a view to the
retention of higher profits? What if the statements of bad
trade, or restricted demand, or increasing competition, should
be purposely exaggerated for the same end ? What, m short,
if the wages offered are not justified by the state of the market ?
I fully admit the possibility of such circumstances, and I think
that where there has been between masters and men a long
course of dealings, the men have a moral right to expect from
the master an open and frank statement of the position of the
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
55
business, and of the reasons which necessitate an alteration of
the terms of their contract, before he summarily announces a
reduction of wages. In any case, he should remember that he
has to deal with his labourers as with free men, and that they
will exercise their judgment to accept or not, as they please, the
wages offered. And be sure of this, that if the competition
'among labourers is certain to prove favourable to the employer
in keeping the wages low, the freedom of the labourers,
and an extensive field of labour in the colonies and America,
enable the labourers to resist any attempt of his to lower
wages unduly, and to prevent them falling below what is just
and necessary.
There is, indeed, a minimum below which wages can never
go. Much labour has been expended in ascertaining what
that minimum is, or what is the intrinsic value of labour at
any time ; and it has been said that, as the intrinsic value of
anything is regulated by the cost of production, so the intrinsic
value of labour is ultimately governed by the cost of subsistence
of the labourer and his family. However large the competition
among labourers, the wages can never fall below the cost of
bare living, for the simple reason that if the labourer cannot
live in one occupation, he will leave it and choose another ; and
if he is not able for any other, he will emigrate. This, then, is
the natural or necessary rate of wages, and it is variable ac
cording to the cost of articles of food and clothing, and must
also differ at different times and in different countries. Let it
be established, for instance, that the cost of living in England,
including food, drink, clothing, and house-rent, has increased
twenty per cent, within the last twenty years, and the natural or
intrinsic value of labour must of necessity have risen in similar
proportions.* And must not the intrinsic value of labour be
higher in England, where the labourer eats wheaten bread
* See Appendix A.
�56
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
and butcher’s meat daily, than in China, where a labourer is
content and able to live almost exclusively on rice ?
Happily, this minimum of wages is scarcely ever touched, but
there are industries where the profits of production are extremely
low, and where the competition among labourers is extreme.
Who has not heard of the pitiful cases of the silk weavers and
throwsters, of the needlewomen and kid-glove stitchers, of the
stocking and glove weavers, of the farm and dock labourers ? It
does seem miserable pay to offer z^d. for embroidering a skirt
two or three yards wide, even with the sewing machine. Who has
not felt pain, sorrow, and I may say indignation, when reading
those plaintive words of Hood :
“ With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread—
Stitch ! stitch 1 stitch 1
In poverty, hunger, and dirt;
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the ‘ Song of the Shirt.'
Work, work, work—
Till the brain begins to swim !
Work, work, work—
Till the eyes are heavy and dim 1
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam—
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream !”
But what is the cause of such low wages ? Some say,
nothing else but the competition among producers to sell their
products sufficiently cheap to attract custom. But pay higher
wages, and immediately a rise on the price of such articles must
be made, which will lessen proportionally their consumption,
and check likewise production. Do not say that the consumers
would pay more if they could not get such articles so cheap.
Probably a great number will, but a large number will abstain
�7HE REWARD OF LABOUR.
57
rom consuming them. The consumption of articles of necessity,
as well as of luxury, is alike governed by the price. Add a
penny to the cost of a single shirt, or to that of a pound of tea,
or a halfpenny to the price of sugar or a loaf of bread, and at
once the consumption is sure to diminish in exact proportion.
And what will be the consequence ? A reduction of production
means a less demand for labour ; and many who are now
obtaining a scanty livelihood, may, instead of getting more,
be doomed to get nothing at all. The wages of agricultural
labour are low, but remember that in most cases the labour is
purely manual, and that the supply of simply manual labour is
always superabundant. Mr. Malthus exhibited with great force
the disagreeable fact, that, whilst the population is capable of
increasing at a geometrical ratio, such as 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, and so
forth, the means of subsistence only increase at an arithmetical
ratio such as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, etc. Doubtless, a proper restraint in
the matter of matrimony, and prudence as regards the increase
of our families, might check the excess of labourers, and so tend
to keep wages above their minimum, but we cannot trust on so
much wisdom on the part of the people, and so our only hope
must lie in the vast fields of emigration ever open for our super
abundant population. As an evidence that supply and demand of
labour regulate the wages compare Devon and Northumberland.
In Devon the wages are, say, I2j. a week ; in Northumberland,
20j. But in Devon the supply of labour is far in excess of the
demand; in Northumberland, with the demand for coal-mining
and with Newcastle at hand, full of industries absorbing any
quantity of labour, labour is ever scarce. What is it that lowers
so much the wages in the manufacturing districts but the con
stant influx of agricultural labourers ? As Mr. Cobden tersely put
it, when two workmen run after one master, the wages will fall;
and when two masters run after a workman, the wages are
certain to rise.
There are industries, however,—and I am happy to say they
�58
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
include almost every branch of the artisan population,—where
the wages are not pressed down by excessive supply of labour,
and where fair wages ought to obtain. To be remunerative the
wages ought to provide the workman not only the cost of living
to himself and his family in the locality where the workman
must live,-—in London, if his work be there, or in a provincial
town, if his labour be there,—but also the cost and maintenance
of his tools, the recovery of the cost of his apprenticeship,
some provision for old age and infirmity, and an insurance
against the perils of sudden or early death, especially in those
occupations which are essentially injurious to health. And
some difference should be made, too, for the agreeableness or
disagreeableness of the work. But all these items are repre
sented in the relative wages of different classes of artisans.
What is included in the price of an article, in a certain rate of
wages of labour, in the course of exchange between one country
and another, or in the rate of interest on capital, it is often
extremely difficult to analyse. The Bank rate is, say, 3^ per
cent. In what proportions are included in that rate the value
of capital proper, the commission and expense of the trans
action, and the insurance of the risk ? And so as regard wages.
How much, for instance, of the ninepence per hour goes to meet
the relation of supply and demand of masons or carpenters, the
cost of their tools, and any of the other considerations named ?
Such analyses are not easily made, yet depend upon it the wages
or the price represents the aggregate of all the items which
enter into their value at the time.
It should be remembered that whilst the labourer calculates
what he receives in relation to the compensation he expects for
his work and toil, the employer calculates what he gives in
relation to the amount of work performed for him in return ;
for the same amount of wages may produce twice as much
labour where the labourer is sturdier in strength, and really in
earnest in his work, than where the labourer is weak and
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
59
indolent. And is there not a difference in the power of labour
between the stalwart Northumbrian and the weakly Devonian ?
A greater amount of labour will be performed in a summer
than in a winter’s day, in countries where the people are less
given to enjoyments than in those where pleasure seems
the first and most attractive pursuit. Let us suppose that in
France, Austria, or any other country, a manufacturer should
require twice the number of hands, twice as large a building to
contain the hands, twice as many clerks and bookkeepers and
Overlookers to look after them, and twice as many tools as he
would to do the same quantity of work in England, must he
not pay such labourers less there than he would here? The
rate of wages may be lower in France than in England, and yet
the amount of wages paid for a given quantity of work may be
more in France than in England. “ Profits,” said Mr. Ricardo,
“ depend on wages,—not on nominal but real wages ; not on the
number of pounds that may be annually paid to the labourers,
but on the number of days’ work necessary to obtain those
pounds.”
By whichever standard the rate of wages may be estimated,
the question really at issue between masters and men is whether
or not what is now paid in the shape of wages is just, or below
what is really due to the share taken by labour in production.
There is no concealing the fact that in the mind of many of
our workmen there is a lurking idea that the immense fortunes
amassed by our producers and traders are more or less the
result of an unequal division of the profits of production, and
that they could pay considerably more wages, but they will not.
That indeed, they say, is the real secret of low wages. Only, they
try to cover it under the pretext of the doctrine of the wages or
labour fund. But what is this theory ? According to the econo
mists, the doctrine is simply this : that wages, by an irresistible
law, depend on the demand and supply of labour, and can in no
circumstances be either more or less than what will distribute the
�6o
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
existing wage fund among the existing number of competitors for
the same,—the demand for labour consisting of the whole circu
lating capital of the country, including what is paid in wages
for unproductive labour ; the supply, the whole labouring popu
lation. If the supply is in excess of what the capital can at
present employ, wages must fall. If the labourers are all
employed, and there is a surplus of capital still unused, wages
will rise.
This is the wage-fund theory upon which Mr.
Thornton broke lance with John Stuart Mill. If the question
be asked, Is there such a thing as a wage fund, in the sense
here implied ? exists there any fixed amount which is neither
more nor less than what is destined to be expended in wages ?
Mr. Thornton boldly declares that the supposed barrier to the
expansion of wages as indicated by this theory is a shadow, and
not a reality, for besides the original capital which the employer
invests in the business, there are the growing profits which may
also be used in wages. Mr. Mill, in his review of Mr. Thornton’s
work on “ Labour and its Claims,” in the Fortnightly Review, so
far admitted that there is no law of nature making it impossible
for wages to rise to the point of absorbing not only the funds
which the employer had intended to devote to the carrying on
his business, but the whole of what he allows for his private
expenses beyond the necessaries of life. But, said Mr. Mill,
there is a limit nevertheless, and that limit to the rise of wages
is the practical consideration how much would ruin the employer,
or drive him to abandon his business. In short, just as wages
may be too low, so as to impair the working power of the
labourer, so they may be too high, so as to leave no profit; and
just as excessively low wages will drive the labourer to emigrate,
so unduly high wages will drive capital out of the business.
How far the assumption is correct that employers are
amassing large profits, I am not prepared to say. The under
standing is, that the return of seven per cent, on the capital
invested is a pie, and it cannot be considered excessive when
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
6l
we consider the dangers and vicissitudes of commerce. See
what losses are incurred by bankruptcy. During the last six
years, from 1870 to 1875, the total amount of liabilities of estates
liquidated by bankruptcy, by arrangement, or composition with
creditors, was Ziioj759?ooo> and the total amount of assets
^32,607,000, showing an actual loss to creditors of £78,152,000,
or in the proportion of Z^?000,000 Per annum; and this,
remember, irrespective of the cost of bankruptcy, which in
many cases absorbs nearly the whole of the assets. Suppose,
however, good fortune should favour any branch of production,
and unusual profits be realised, will there not' be a sudden rush
of capital for investment in the same ? For a time, the greedy
employer may pocket large profits, but as soon as fresh capital
is invested, competition causes a larger share of the same to fall
on the labourer, and wages rise, till the rates of profits and the
rates of wages are brought to their normal level. The relation
of profits to wages is often wrongly apprehended. It is an error
to suppose that large profits are the results of low wages, and
low profits the results of high wages. Although an increase of
capital has the tendency to lower the profits, and to increase
wages, the same increase of capital also tends to render labour
more profitable, and to increase the amount of production, which
in turn maintains a high rate of profits. See the operation of
machinery on wages. The investment of capital in machinery
enables the workman to produce tenfold more than he was able
to produce by the hand ; and in proportion as he increases his
productive power, so his earnings increase. A workman at
Bristol said that the extra production of machinery ought to
be divided by masters and workmen.
And so they are, in
certain proportions.
Before 1842, said Mr. Ashworth, the
operative spinner’s wages for the production of 20 lb. of yarn
70’s, on a pair of mules of 400 spindles each, was 43-. yd. (or 2fd.
per lb.), and at this rate his net earnings amounted to about
20s. per week. In 1859, with the improvements effected in the
�62
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
spinning mule, by which each machine carries 800 spindles,
the same workman, with a little extra assistance by piecers
(boys), could earn 30J. icvf. per week net, although the amount he
received in wages for 20 lb. of yarn was reduced from 4s. ^d. to
3J. ii%d. or 2'36d, per pound. Compare the actual earnings of
spinners and others employed in the cotton industry during
the last forty years : they show an increase of 30 or 50 per
cent., besides a considerable reduction in the number of hours
of labour.*
The reason why the employer amasses a larger amount of
wealth in proportion than the labourer, will be found, not in
any usurpation of the share of profits which may belong to
workmen, for that, after all, is a matter of simple contract, but
in the fact that whilst the labourer receives only the proper
remuneration of his labour, the employer not only gets higher
remuneration for his skill, because of a higher order, but also
the profit of his capital, or an annual sum of profit on the
aggregate accumulation of all his savings for years past ;—to
say nothing of the immense advantage of production on a large
scale which the possession of large capital enables the master
to realize, and of his chances of large profits from sudden
changes in the value of produce, to be placed, however,
against the chance of equally sudden losses, the result either of
unusual skill and good fortune, or of sad miscalculations and
blunders.
The wages of labour, the profits of merchants and bankers,
the earnings of men of letters, of barristers and doctors, the
salaries of civil servants, and even the incomes of bishops and
clergymen, are not, I apprehend, so uniformly balanced as we
might wish. Doubtless, the progress of freedom, the extended
knowledge of the use of capital, the progress of division of
labour, the facilities of communication, and the advanced conSee Appendix B.
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
63
dition of certain industries, may tend to the greater equalization
of wages. But such equalization can never supersede the essen
tial difference of earnings of any number of persons, the natural
consequence of greater or less amount of skill, greater or less
amount of energy, health, or special capacities, and of relative
advantage of position for the exercise of certain industries. To
suppose the possibility of any uniformity of wages, irrespective
of such differences of skill, knowledge, industry, and character,
is to imagine that equal enjoyment may be had as the return
for unequal efforts, abilities, and sacrifices. Upon the relative
merits of the payment of wages, by the day or hour, or by socalled piece-work, little need be said. The contract of labour
is doubtless not so many hours, but so much labour for so much
money ; and it should be a matter of simple convenience to both
parties which of the two systems should be preferable. Honestly
performed, and as honestly inspected, piece-work appears to
me to contain the elements of perfect fairness, though payment
by the day may stimulate greater attention to solidity and finish
of workmanship.
I will not venture to assert that present wages are satis
factory. Taking the wages of builders in the metropolis at
9<£ per hour, they may appear sufficiently liberal. But are all
builders earning as much ? How many get no more than
per hour ? How little are the building labourers earning ! Nor
do such wages continue uninterrupted during the year : for at
least two months of the year many of them remain in forced idle
ness. True, the rates of wages are higher now than they were,
but the cost of living has increased also, whilst the standard
of living is altogether altered.
Must they not pay more now
for the education of their children ? Can they do without their
newspapers ? Must they not travel from their homes to their
works ? And ought they not to have their due relaxation on
Bank holidays, at Christmas, and Whitsuntide ? Many items of
expenditure, once deemed extravagant, are now become almost
�64
I
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
as imperative as the necessaries of life. And if the imperial
taxes are higher, are not the local rates greatly increased ? There
are features at work which leave much to be desired in the
economics of the labouring classes. The sudden emancipation
of youth from all family control, and the consequent waste of
recourses which a family purse would avoid, are a decided evil.
The large proportion of married women employed in the textile
industries, is a sad element in the social system. Let the man be
the bread-winner, and the woman attend to household duties.
That is Nature’s rule ; but instead of this, all home comforts are
sacrificed for recruiting the scanty wages of the men, certain to
be destroyed by mismanagement. Happy indeed would it be
for the manufacturing districts of England were every married
woman having a family prohibited working in any factory, for
it is contrary to the course of all nature that mothers should
have to deposit their nurslings with some friend or neighbour,
or perhaps in some institution established for that purpose,
whilst they go out to work for the family living.*
Better wages, and better use of wages, we must still desire.
Think not that higher wages will restrain industry, for the
economic condition of the masses all over ,the world is im
mensely improved, and their means of purchase are decidedly
enlarged. Low wages are the concomitant of declining, not of
prosperous industries. It has been said that high wages engender
idleness and dissipation. I do not agree with such a proposi
tion. Idleness and dissipation are more frequently the conse
quence of misery and want of strength than of comfort, health,
and vigour. A sudden increase of means may, for a time, lead
to extravagance, but let it consolidate itself into a regular income,
and it is sure to create love of property, a desire of acquisition,
and a sense of self-esteem,—the best safeguards against waste and
dissipation. Charge not the recent rise of wages for the un* See Report of Robert Baker, Esq., Factory Inspector, 31st October,
1873, p. 120.
�THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
65
happy condition of large numbers of the labouring classes.
Charge the same, the rather, on the want of education, on the
employment of women and children in factories, and on the
many evils incident to our present, in many respects, artificial
organization of society.
For all the progress achieved during the last half century
in the economic condition of the people, let us be thankful.
What a change in the mode of living from the time of Queen
Elizabeth, when, while the gentlemen provided themselves with
sufficiency of wheat for their own table, their households and
poor neighbours were content with rice or barley, or in time of
dearth with bread made either of beans, peas, or oats. And
we are cleverer, too, as to the true sources of better wages.
Bitter experience has more than proved that war cannot improve
the condition of the labouring classes, for whatever hinders or
interrupts the production of wealth, whatever discourages the
investment of capital, must of necessity reduce employment and
lower wages. True, a sudden demand of men for the army and
navy may cause a temporary diminution of competition among
labourers; but while production is well-nigh suspended, and the
unproductive expenditure excessive, the resources of the people
are sure to suffer. The attempt to .regulate wages by law has been
tried and failed, as might have been well expected. An artificial
barrier of prohibitions and import duties has been tried as a means
to foster the productive power of the nation, but what is the use
of producing, when the people cannot consume ? The fictitious
and dangerous experiment of supplementing wages by poor relief
has also been tried, and abandoned as Communistic in principle,
and economically most mischievous. A better era, a sounder
policy, has been at last inaugurated, and wealth has increased at
a rapid pace. Have the labouring classes profited by the happy
change to the full extent in their power ? Workmen, it is for
you to answer. Are you desirous to improve your condition, to
become yourselves capitalists ? It is quite within your reach, for
5
�66
THE REWARD OF LABOUR.
wages are the parent of all capital. Only, learn to be thrifty.
Beware of little expenses, and you will soon amass capital which
will enable you from labourers to become employers ; employers,
I hope, the more able to deal kindly and justly with your men
because you have yourselves occasionally had reason to com
plain of your own employers.
�V.
TRADE UNIONS.
The tree is known by its fruit. You cannot expect roses from
thorns. And from a legislation which deliberately robbed the
working man of the only true patrimony he possessed—his
labour by compelling him to work at such wages as the master
chose to pay, by one degree only removed from the state of
slavery, where both the slave and his work are the property of
the master j from a legislation which consigned to the common
gaol any one who attempted to improve his wages, and doomed
to the pillory any one who dared attempt to conspire, cove
nant, or promise, with or to any other, that he should not do
certain works but at certain rates, and should not work but
at certain hours and time, you could expect nothing else but
secret societies acting in the most arbitrary manner, dis
countenancing any record of their proceedings, having their
most stringent laws unwritten, and their most significant usages
unrecorded, whose committees were practically irresponsible,
whose threats were not expressed but understood, and whose
punishments were carried out, not in broad daylight, but by in
visible hands. Happily, we may say, the age of secret societies
is now gone by. We have no sympathy for the Templars or the
Jesuits, the Red Cross or the Carbonari, and though we laugh at
the Pope putting Freemasonry in the Syllabus—for we know it
�68
TRADE UNIONS.
not to be any conspiracy against Government and religion, but
a fraternity for the practice of mutual charity, protection, and
assistance—we rejoice to know also that secret societies need no
longer exist, and should have no place in the political, social, or
economical condition of the nation.
There are a few, but very few, who profess to regard capitalists,
as a class, with suspicion, and who account for their existence
simply as an historical accident, owing its birth, perhaps, to
the fact of all nations having begun in slavery. Incapable
of accounting for the fact that for every hundred persons ninetysix are working people and four capitalists, such enthusiasts
are prepared, like Caspar Rauchbilder, a kind of philosophic
sugar-baker, to put society into a cauldron, secure a perfect
vacuum by relieving it of all prejudices and all property, and
from the ashes make a filter, through which this selfish age
shall pass, and emerge a new moral world. But the great
mass of members of our Trade Societies are not such foolish
dreamers. If they fail at all, they fail in contemplating capital
as something to a certain extent antagonistic to labour,—in
striving not for a maximum of production, but for the maxi
mum share of a given amount of production, in endeavouring to
secure for labour the largest share of a product, which is, to
say the least, the joint result of capital and labour. But what
ever be the object, workmen have a perfect right to combine,
and seek such ends as are lawful, in the way they best prefer.
The right to combine with others in order to secure a common
benefit is, I believe, a sacred one, not a whit less sacred
than that of individual liberty; and I rejoice that all laws
against combinations have long ago been abolished. Nay, I
go further ; I believe that the formation of Trade Societies,
within proper limits, is perfectly justifiable, and may be even to
some extent beneficial, for I sympathise with the condition of
many of our workmen, who seldom come into direct contact
with their employers, or who have to deal with masters too
�TRADE UNIONS.
much hardened in the old system of ruling with the iron rod to
be able fully to recognise the higher aspirations of our workmen.
Only, let me say to such societies, and more particularly to
their leaders, that great as is the power of association, it cannot
be all-supreme ; and undoubted as is their utility, there are
rights and privileges which must be likewise guarded and pro
tected. Individual independence, and the right of isolated
action, are quite as essential as the right of association, and no
one ought to be called to abdicate such rights in deference to
-those of the association. Whilst asserting their right to act
in a corporate capacity, they must not ignore the right of those
who prefer to act by themselves and for themselves. What
ever be the proportion of Trade Unionists to the total number
■of workers in any branch of industry, this is not a case where
■the majority can bind the minority, simply because by no act
of theirs, as in a case of partnership, can non-unionists be said
to have delegated to unionists any power to interfere with their
rights and independence.
Much do I deplore any contest between labour and capital.
It is ominous to find, on the one hand, a National Federation
■of Associated Employers established with a view “ to secure,
through the continuance of existing laws and the enactment of
new ones, complete freedom of labour, protection to capital, and
the true interests of national industry,” with their excellent organ
Capital and. Labourj and, on the other, “ a Federation of Trade
Unions,” recently organized, or about to be organized, in view
“ that struggles between capital and labour will probably be con
ducted in future on a far more gigantic scale than we have hitherto
witnessed, with the Beehive, now the Industrial Review, also ably
conducted as their organ. What can we expect from two such
antagonistic forces set in battle array but quarrels and conflicts ?
What better justification could Trade Societies have for their ex
istence than the very fact of such associations among the masters?
The masters justify their unions by the necessity of self-defence.
�70
TRADE UNIONS.
But what other plea is put forth by Trade Unions but selfdefence ? Whether or not the regulations which bind the masters
associations substantially differ from those of Trade Unions is
of less importance than the fact itself, that those who may be
supposed to be more intelligent, and better acquainted with
economic laws, find that union is strength for them as well as
for others, and that instead of resting on the working of economic
laws, they endeavour by united action to offer an effective resist
ance to the claims of labour.
But can labour effectively contend with capital ? Here effec
tive strength does not depend on mere numbers. What though
the proletaires be ninety-six and the capitalists only four in a
hundred? True, labour is property, and capital is property.
But what is the value of labour as property unless employed
by capital ? As well have a Raphael in the Sandwich Islands
as have ninety-six labourers without the four capitalists. And
is not this superabundance of labour a constant source of
weakness ? Even if you succeed in regulating the supply of
labour in this country, can you attempt to do so in foreign
countries ? True, capital can do nothing without labour, but
neither can labour do anything without capital. To both
capital and labour I should say, by all means use your power
and energy in maintaining your rights ; but avoid any resort to
strikes, or the final arbitrement of war, which is sure to destroy
the very spoil you are striving to possess.
Well organized as many of the Trade Societies are, I cannot
help thinking that their constitution is defective, in supposing a
greater equality of capacities and skill in their members than
human experience justifies us in expecting, a greater amount of
intelligence and prescience in their councils or committees than
they can lay title to possess, and in assuming greater authority
to compel obedience to their rules than is consistent with the
nature of a perfectly voluntary society. The members are sup
posed to be, every one, able to earn the average wages which
�TRADE UNIONS.
U-
the trade gives, or the minimum wages which the Union deter
mines, the test of that ability being found in either five years’
apprenticeship or five years’ work in the trade, or the testimony
of any member who may have worked with the candidate.
Are such tests invariably reliable ? Intelligent workmanship is,
I imagine, the result of qualities and circumstances not always
acquired by apprenticeship, nor are many years’ work in a busi
ness a sure guarantee for ability; whilst the testimony which will
satisfy the committee of a Union may not be such as will satisfy
an employer. Within an apparent uniformity of qualifications
there may be an essential diversity of merit. Hundreds of gen
tlemen are called to the bar every year by the Inns of Court
under the same regulations. Can it be said that they are all
equally gifted ? A uniform wage obtains among privates in the
army, but that continues so long only as they are idling in the
barracks, a mass of inert force. Let them be in active service,
and immediately individual valour will show that they are not
a band of uniform automatic machines.
The executive councils or committees are called to fulfil duties
of a most difficult and delicate character. Their efforts are to
secure a fair and reasonable remuneration for labour, to maintain
a fair rate of wages, to provide the means of legally resisting
unnecessary reductions in the price of work, and to allow no en
croachment on the peculiar privileges of the trade. But is it an
easy work to determine what is a fair rate of wages, what is a
reasonable remuneration, when a reduction may be successfully
resisted, or when no such resistance should be attempted ? The
members of council or committees are themselves workmen.
They do not pretend to be guided by the theories or maxims of
political economists. Naturally in favour of high wages and
short hours, are they such impartial judges as to be able duly to
appreciate the real circumstances of the case before acting in any
emergency? True, they are guided by the periodical reports of
the state of trade and wages from every part of the kingdom ;
�72
TRADE UNIONS.
but these very facts are only the exponent of phenomena which
require a deep and extended range of observation on conditions
and circumstances not within the reach of every one. Far be it
from me to detract from the intelligence and practical knowledge
of the councils of such trade unions. I give them full credit for
an earnest desire to form sound opinions on the questions before
them, and to urge the same for acceptance by fair, open, and
peaceful means. Only, it is not in their power to regulate
economical phenomena, and they cannot prevent their action.
The societies are supported by entrance fees, by weekly or
monthly fees, and by fines. Failing to pay the proper contribu
tion, absenting oneself from a quarterly or a special meeting,
mentioning any club transactions to outsiders, omitting to make
a proper report, and performing many more such acts and trans
actions, are visited with fines; whilst a still more hostile system
of ostracism may be resorted to where perfect obedience is not
secured by fines. But is it desirable to enforce obedience among
a large number of men on matters which touch very nearly the
mode of earning a livelihood ? Doubtless the constitution of such
societies empowers the committees to determine the policy to
be pursued, and there would be an end of all authority if it
were left optional with the members to accept or not the de
cision of their committees ; yet the very fact that large sums are
annually collected by means of fines indicates the frequent resort
to compulsion, on every account to be deprecated. On the whole,
I cannot help thinking that a more elastic system would operate
better, and prove in the end even more efficient than the present
stringent method of action.
The principal objects which Trade Unions have in view are
the regulation of the supply of labour and the supervision of the
rate of wages. By controlling the labour of their own members,
by endeavouring to equalize the supply of labour all over the
country, by regulating and restricting the admission of appren
tices, by hindering the employment of boy and woman labour, and
�TRADE UNIONS.
73
by putting obstacles to the employment of non-unionists, the
Trade Societies hope to maintain a monopoly of labour, and
thereby to reduce that competition among labourers which is so
formidable a barrier to the rise of wages. Nay, more; in the
hope of spreading the work among as large a number of members
as possible, they prohibit working overtime. But rules such as
these contravene some of the first maxims of legal rights,
besides being clearly opposed to sound economy. The mutual
rights and duties arising from the contract of labour are simple
and direct—so much labour for so much reward. The master
has a right to employ his labourers or not as he pleases. The
labourer may consent to work or not as he likes. What right
has either to interfere with the free action of the other in any
matter concerning their respective businesses ? The objection
to overtime is justified by the plea that it is essential for any
labourer overburdened with hard work to have time left for in
struction and recreation, and that it is a grievous evil to protract
labour beyond what nature seems to suggest. But to lay down
any general rule, that no man shall labour beyond a certain
number of hours on each day, is to deprive the young and strong
•of the best opportunity they may have of making hay whilst
health and vigour last. It seems very philanthropic to limit the
work of the over-employed that some work may be left for the
unemployed. But it is, I fear, the law of society, that wealth and
employment are not equally distributed. Aptitude for labour is
not a common gift, and if we neglect the work which Providence
places within our reach, it by no means follows that it will be
given to those less fortunate than ourselves.
Apart, however, from any legal or social considerations, what
are the economic effects of any effort to monopolize or regulate
labour ? Are they not to cripple production, which in turn
must react on wages ? Every hour you take from your daily
labour is so much deducted from the profits of production, all
the fixed capital being to that extent rendered less productive.
�74
TRADE UNIONS.
The fewer labourers are at work the less will be produced,
unless new machinery comes to take their place. Whenever
adult labour is employed where boys and women would besufficient, so much encouragement is given to a waste of forces,
which will render production less profitable. But can you pre
vent an increase of labourers in a profitable industry ? High
wages are certain to be attractive. An agricultural labourer in
the receipt of 15^. a week will be too glad to apprentice his son
to an engineer, in the expectation of getting 305-. or 40^. a week.
And it is against all natural and economic law to attempt to
hinder a process so simple and necessary. There is, indeed, a
necessary monopoly of talent which we cannot abolish. The
few actors, musicians, painters, barristers, and doctors, who
may possess learning and skill far excelling those of the masses
of their competitors ; the few workmen absolutely superior to
others in the perfection of their bodily organs, in the dexterity
of their hands and motions, and in the skill with which they
execute their task, must, of necessity, have a natural monopoly
of the work which may be offered. And they are sure to enjoy
the benefit of that monopoly in a larger remuneration than is
obtained by their competitors, as a fair compensation for ser
vices conferred in the work of production. But to pretend to
establish any monopoly whereby labourers, strong or weak,
skilful or ignorant, shall derive an equal remuneration, and
to entertain any expectation that such higher remuneration
may be derived from diminished production—these are wild
notions, which no true economic principle will sanction.
On the question whether or not Trade Unions can exercise
any influence on wages, I am prepared to make some conces
sions. Wherever wages are in any measure governed by
custom, as to some extent in agriculture, a Trade Society
may shake off that dull sloth and produce a sudden improve
ment. Wherever the labourers are in a position so low and
dejected as to be under the necessity of working for wages not
�TRADE UNIONS.
75
sufficient to pay for the simple cost of living, as in the case of
the needlewomen, a Trade Society may, by granting temporary
help with a view to resistance, operate some reform of wages,
though with the almost certain result of either lessening pro
duction, and so causing a diminution of employment, or of
stimulating machinery.. Wherever, moreover, the rate of profit
is larger than is necessary to provide for the interest of capital,
and a legitimate remuneration for the employer’s services, a
Trade Society may, by a vigilant supervision, operate upon the
margin which may exist between the rate of wages and the rate
of profits below which all production would cease, and in all
probability succeed in securing part of the same for labour,
unless defeated either by the competition of labourers among
themselves, or by foreign competition. In the former case,
however, wages will remain low, though the profits may be
high ; and in the latter, wages will fall, and the profits decline
also, or, at most, remain stationary. Under any circumstance
the advantage derived by Trade Unions can only be temporary,
for supply and demand are sure to assert their sway. Shake
off the custom if you can, and yet if there be seven persons
available to one hundred acres, where four are amply sufficient
for agricultural purposes, the competition among the seven
to get the employment which can only be had by four will be
sure to keep wages low. Enhance by artificial combination
the wages in any one business, or in any one district, yet, unless
that rise is supported by increased savings, and by the sub
stantial accumulation of capital, it will not, it cannot be sus
tained. But suppose the employer should secure for himself a
large amount of profits out of what would be due to the em
ployees, or by keeping wages unduly low, what can he do with
such profits but employ them to render them productive ? See
how it works practically. In i860, the exports of the produce
and manufactures of the United Kingdom were valued at
^136,000,000, and the profits assessed to income tax under
�76
TRADE UNIONS.
Schedule D were declared at ^95,000,000.
But trade has
been very prosperous ever since, and the result has been that in
1874 the amount of profits so assessed to income tax amounted
to ^197,000,000, showing an increase of ^102,000,000, which
you may say went all to the masters, since few or no workmen
pay income tax. But wait a little. How was that extra amount
of profits gained but by increased production? During that
period the amount of exports of British produce rose from
^136,000,000 in i860 to ^223,000,000 in 1874. And from that
increased production workmen got increased wages. Allow
that 20 per cent, of the total amount of produce go in wages,
and upon the ^87,000,000 of extra production for exports only,
at least £ 17,000,000 more per annum must have been divided
among labourers in wages. In truth, the excess of profits must
in all, or in part, sooner or later find its way among the people,
and that is the best possible guarantee for an equitable distri
bution of profits among employers and employed.
Trade Unions endeavour to operate on wages by fixing the
lowest rate and by determining that all their members shall
earn at least that low rate. It is not easy, however, to say
what the lowest rate of wages should be under any circum
stances. You observe the state of the market, that it is buoyant;
the number of orders, which appear numerous. You notice a
certain amount of eagerness among the employers in pursuing
their operations. And as everything seems to denote activity
and progress you say wages must rise. But do not misunder
stand high prices for large profits, for a high price may be the
result of pure speculation, to be soon followed by a great re
action; or the result of increased cost of the raw materials,
which may render production even less remunerative. In truth,
it is not possible to fix what the wages should be, any more than
you can fix what shall be the price of any article or the rate of
interest, and any haphazard way of determining what the lowest
rate of wages ought to be, apart from what is produced by
�TRADE UNIONS.
77
the relation of supply and demand, must be uncertain and un
satisfactory. It is somewhat discomforting to feel that we can
do comparatively so little for ourselves, that we cannot secure
a rise, cannot prevent a fall, and must in a manner stand still.
Only depend upon it, economical laws do not stand still, and
they will operate quite irrespective of our action.
It has been urged by Trade Unionists that they do not
demand any uniformity of wages, but that they only fix the rate
under which no member of the Union shall work. Give such
of them as deserve it as much more as you please, but none
shall work for less. What, however, if what you lay down as
the minimum, employers should regard as the maximum ? Give
to the least capable the maximum wages, and what more can the
most capable earn ? Again, it is said it is to protect labour against
the pernicious system of competition by tender, that labourers
must insist upon a uniform minimum rate ; but on what principle
can the labourers make themselves the guardians of the public
interests ?
Weak as is generally the power of Trade Unions with reference
to the determination of the lowest rate of wages, still more doubtful
is the possibility of their being able to maintain any uniformity in
the wages and earnings of their members. If there be no such
thing as uniformity of talent, skill, judgment, strength, vigour,
will, or of anything that constitutes and regulates our real power
to act upon matter, how can there be such a thing as a uniformity
in the value of the part taken by any number of men in the
production of any article? There is no such thing as an
average ability, for what is an average but an ideal abstract
and imaginary medium of an equal distribution of all the
inequalities among individuals of a series ? We say the average
temperature of England is 50° Fahrenheit, but that is made up
of constant changes from day to day, varying from 38° to 71 °.
And so it is with the average life of a man, or the average loss
of ships, or the like. The great value of an average rests in the
�78
TRADE UNIONS.
indication it gives of the medium of the range in those
variations, but that does not destroy their existence. In matter
of labour, though you may form a fair idea of the average
strength and capacity of any number of labourers, that does not
affect the fact of their possessing some more and some less of
those faculties which are required in production, and which con
stitute the very basis and conditions of the earning of wages.
In the engineering trade, the classification of wages with refer
ence to skill must be carried on to a high point, it having been
given in evidence before the Royal Commissioners on Trade
Unions, that in an establishment of more than 900 men there
were as many as 267 rates of wages earned. The introduction
of machinery may have reduced the great extremes, many of
those feats of force and skill which at one time placed one work
man so much above another being now done by machinery.
Yet there is room enough left for the display of superior personal
ability, strength, and judgment, and to attempt to enforce any
ideal uniformity in wages is as unsound in principle as it is
mischievous in practice.
Partly with a view to uniformity of wages, and partly also as
a means of defence against the masters’ attempts to reduce
wages, some Trade Societies have resisted what is called pay
ment by piecework. The different systems of payment of wages,
by time as by the day or hour, or by piecework as according
to results, or by a combination of the two as by time with
relation to so much work done, are respectively adapted to
different descriptions of labour. For the performance of labour
requiring great exactitude and patient attention, payment by
time is probably the best. For the performance of work ad
mitting of great swiftness of operation, payment by piecework
appears fair for the workman and just to the employer ; whilst
for the execution of work demanding both precision of execution
and economy of time, the combined system seems the best
adapted. In any case there can be no doubt that payment by
�TRADE UNIONS.
79
result is the least fallible test of the value of labour, whilst it is
the only mode by which patient labour and superior intelligence
can raise itself above the surrounding level of low mediocrity.
It is alleged against piecework that it incites the worker to work
longer hours than is good for him, that it tempts him to hurry
over the work, and leave it imperfectly finished ; that it is often
abused by the master appointing middle men, or piece-masters,
to fix the price arbitrarily ; that it is used by the master to
■cut down the wages to the minimum, thus preventing the
labourer from deriving any corresponding benefit from his
greater labour and exertion. Far be it from me to justify any
such practices. I admit that the system may be greatly abused
by both masters and workmen. I allow that unprincipled men
may use it as a snare, rather than as a fair mode of rewarding
labour. And I cannot too strongly condemn any attempt on
the part of either to make it the vehicle of fraud and usurpation.
But as to the objections that piecework is a system by which
the weakest always goes to the wall, or that it incites the labourer
to work too much, or that it gives an advantage to the skilful
over the unskilful, I fear that, practically hard as such objec
tions may prove in some cases, they are but futile in this matterof-fact world. A paternal government, be it by societies or by
the State, can never be advantageous, and you cannot inflict a
deeper injury on any number of people than by taking from them
the right to utilize their forces and energies to the maximum of
their power. It is the great recommendation of piecework that
it is conducive to a better reward of skill, strength, and energy,
that it affords the best possible encouragement to improvement
in workmanship, and that it is a beneficial instrument to the in
crease of the productive power of the nation. Some difficulty,
however, does doubtless exist in the adoption of the piecework
system in different industries. Taking as our guide the two prin
ciples already enunciated, that whilst on the one hand the contract
•of labour is not so many hours in a day, but so much work for so
�8o
TRADE UNIONS.
much money ; and on the other, that the wages themselves are
a commutation of something certain and fixed for the uncertain
share which might fall on the workman of the result of produc
tion,—it is evident that whilst piecework affords the best test
of the real amount of work performed, as a basis for the reward
of wages, it still fails in this, that it does not produce that
certainty of earning which the workman very justly appreciates.
In the cotton manufacture, in printing, and in many other
industries, where the work to be done is generally uniform, thevalue of piecework may be estimated with nearly as much
correctness as day-work. But in other industries, especially in
engineering works, where each article is different from the
other, no such certainty can possibly exist. In the printing and
cotton industries, the price of the work is arrived at from ex
tensive experience, by a committee of masters and men. In
such engineering works as I have mentioned, the price named
is simply what the foreman thinks will be a fair remuneration..
To my mind, the method of gauging wages by the actual work
done, however technically just, is not always practicable, and
to force piecework on unwilling labourers, and to provoke a
strike upon that question, is conduct which can scarcely be
justified. If masters and men are to work harmoniously, piece
work must be held out, wherever there is any doubt on the
matter, as an inducement for greater exertion, and not as a hardand-fast rule for the payment of ordinary wages.
It would be interesting to ascertain how far Trade Unions
have proved themselves beneficial to the labouring classes in
the matter of wages. During the last twenty years, all prices,,
salaries, and wages have risen considerably. The salaries of
clerks at the Bank of England and in every house of trade,,
the salaries of assistants in wholesale warehouses and work
shops, are all higher. In consideration that the cost of livingis dearer, and that a higher standard of living has been intro
duced, more remuneration has been asked and granted in every
�81
TRADE UNIONS.
occupation. But is not this owing to the immense addition to
the supply of the precious metals, the largely increased trade, the
-enormous augmentation of capital ? What else but these cir
cumstances have provided for such increase of wages, prices, and
•salaries ? Trade Unions may have clamoured for higher wages
in certain branches of industry. But if masons and carpenters,
•engineers and ironworkers, protected by Trade Unions, have
realized a handsome rise, so have agricultural labourers, and
especially domestic servants, realized it without any Trade
Unions. Simply left to the tender mercies of the law of supply
and demand, a cook and housekeeper who twenty years ago
was well paid at ^16, now cannot be had for ^25 to ^30. See
what supply and demand do in agricultural labour. Take six
purely agricultural counties, such as Devon, Dorset, Wilts,
Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridge, and six agricultural and
industrial counties, such as Cheshire, Lancashire, the West
Riding of Yorkshire, Durham, Kent, and Monmouthshire. The
average wages of agricultural labourers, and the earnings especi
ally by piece-labour, wherever introduced, have risen everywhere,
in consequence of the increasing amount of capital invested in
agriculture ; but whilst the wages in the purely agricultural
counties have risen 15 per cent., those in the agricultural and
industrial counties, from the simple competition in the demand
for labour, have risen 30 to 40 per cent. Making every allow
ance for special cases, it is absurd to imagine that Trade Unions
have been the main instruments in bringing so much additional
wealth into the lap of the working classes. If by constant vigilance
on the relation of wages to profits, they have caused, in certain
instances, a distribution of any excess at an earlier date than
might otherwise have taken place, it is quite possible that the
sudden rise of wages consequent upon it may have been as
rapidly followed by a reaction. And we well know that frequent
oscillations of wages and uncertainty of earnings are more an
•evil than a boon to the working population. Nor should it be
6
�82
TRADE UNIONS.
forgotten that an employer, who may have for some time been
producing at a loss, has a right to retrieve his position by securing
somewhat more liberal profits for a certain period, before he can
risk to establish a more equitable level between profits and wages.
The employer’s object in production is profit, and unless he has
a fair prospect of reasonable profits, we cannot expect that he
will continue to employ his capital or to engage his services in
the business.
Fears have been expressed, that Trade Unions, by harassing
the employers with constant demands, by thwarting the
operation of supply and demand, and by placing restrictions
on the freedom of labour, have discouraged production, and
placed the industries of the country in danger of foreign
competition. But the statistics of trade do not corroborate any
such fear. During recent years production has proceeded at an
enormous scale, whether through the extension of mechanical
agency and steam-power, which has been enormous, or by the
larger adoption of production on a large scale, or by an
actual increase of manual labour. Nor is foreign competition
more formidable now than ever it was.
An increase of
exports from ^136,000,000 in i860 to ^223,000,000 in 1875,
an increase in the quantity of coals produced from 80,000,000
tons in i860 to 132,000,000 tons in 1875, an increase in the
tonnage of shipping belonging to the United Kingdom from
4,600,000 tons to 6,152,000 tons in 1875, are facts which do
not indicate that the British workman has been idle during
the last fifteen years. And what do we find with respect to
the relative increase of the productive power of different
countries ? Compare the exports of Britain with the exports
of other countries, and you will find that British exports
have increased fully in proportion to those of other countries.
Taking the entire amount of exports of seven principal
countries, viz., France, Belgium, Holland, Italy, Austria, the
United States, and the United Kingdom in i860 and 1873, you
�TRADE UNIONS.
S3
will see that the proportion of British exports to the whole
was 37 per cent, in i860, and 37 per cent, in 1874. Nor can
we take the total exports of such countries as a guide to the
great question of danger from foreign competition. Comparing
the exports of manufactured goods, such as cotton, linen, silk,
woollen, from Britain and France in the years 1861 and 1874, it
appears that whilst the exports from the United Kingdom in
creased at the rate of 64 per cent., the exports from France in
creased at the rate of 60 per cent. Since then, I am sorry to
say, the exports from the United Kingdom have been decreasing ;
but trade has been depressed in nearly every country,—the neces
sary reaction from many years of unusual buoyancy.
Trade Unions have been charged with having contributed
to the deterioration of the character of British workmen, by
making them more quarrelsome, more selfish, and more guided
by a spirit of antagonism towards employers than heretofore.
But I doubt the truth of such sweeping charges. In so far as
Trade Unions are concerned, they doubtless consist mostly of
skilled artisans who compare favourably with the great mass
of the labouring classes; whilst as societies they manifest a
degree of organization and a power of management of no mean
order. It must be allowed also that the demonstrations of Trade
Unionists, and the conduct of workmen during any strike at
the present time, contrast favourably with similar exhibitions in
times past. We hear of no incendiarism, no outrage, no riotous
assemblage. The practices at Sheffield were utterly disowned
by the great body of workmen, and though we still hear of
picketing and coercion of different kinds, which the committees
of trade societies would do well to repress as acts of true
cowardice, I am not prepared to join in the cry that our work
men are worse than other people. In the universal progress of
society our workmen have not lagged behind. If they are a
little more quarrelsome than we would like them to be, it is
because they wish to lift themselves up in the scale of society,
�84
TRADE UNIONS.
and because they see the need of protecting their interests,
which were too often heretofore held at nought or trodden
under foot.
Upon the action of trade societies on their benefit funds, I have
scarcely time to touch. For my part, I deeply regret that the
high purposes of a benefit society should be mixed up with the
contentious questions of restraints of trade. I can conceive of
nothing more important than that money laid aside for sick
ness and burials, for widows and orphans, should be perfectly
secure from danger of being swamped up by any warfare with
employers. The best service Trade Unions can render to the
labouring population is to inculcate habits of thrift, and to check
as far as in them lies the evil of intemperance. Let our Trade
Unions abandon the advocacy of theories which are contrary to
sound economy. Let them adopt a spirit of harmony and
conciliation. Let them cease to make war against capital,
which is the necessary handmaid of labour. Let them use only
such means as the law permits, and society sanctions, for the
protection of the just rights of workmen. Let them lead the
mass of labourers in the way of solid progress, and they will
render themselves the benefactors of the people, and be
acknowledged as the friends and trusted helpers of both
capital and labour.
�VI.
STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
That masters and men engaged in industries of a most com
plex character, so often disturbed by the introduction of new
methods and machinery, having much in common, yet each
striving for their own distinct interests, should at times find it
difficult to avoid disagreements, is not, after all, a matter to
cause much surprise. The marvel rather is, that such conflicts
occur so seldom, in comparison with the immense number of
employers and employed, and that when they do occur, they
exercise, comparatively, so small an influence on the general
industry of the country.
What gives to such dissensions any degree of importance is
the dire effect they have on the large number of persons thereby
affected,—the consequence of the modern organization of labour.
A passenger ship has often been compared to a floating village,
and so a mill, or a factory, gathers around itself a complete
community, every inhabitant of which depends on the unin
terrupted progress of the special industry. Let the factory or
the iron work be in full activity, and you see hundreds of
families , rejoicing in plenty, dwelling-houses neatly furnished,
tradesmen and artificers all earning sufficient incomes, and if
the employer be a Sir Titus Salt, or a Sir Francis Crossley,
you will find in such communities the church and the school,
�86
STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
reading-rooms and savings-banks, the club, and many other
institutions which contribute to the moral and intellectual
advancement of the labouring population. But let a dissension
occur, and a strike or lock-out be resolved upon, and what a
sudden blight falls on the whole prospect, what dejection, what
sufferings 1 Here the full loaf is replaced by the half loaf, there
are poverty and sickness, everywhere an idleness which makes
one sad.
A strike, or the joint action on the part of a body of workmen
or persons employed in any department of business, by which
each and all refuse to work except under certain prescribed
conditions, often with the means of sustenance, or some
approximate equivalent to the loss of wages thereby incurred,
provided for by a common fund, is war, which, as Lord Bacon
defined, is “ the highest trial of right.” And a grave responsi
bility rests on those who resort to such a step on any ground
not clearly justifiable, who rush into it before exhausting every
means of conciliation, and who are not ready to withdraw from
it at any moment when a fair compromise can be effected.
That a war may be just, at least in diplomatic language (for
I doubt the possibility of the justice or moral lawfulness of an
act which carries with it so much carnage and destruction), it
must at least be dictated by the necessity of defending ab
solute rights, and be the very last expedient which a nation can
resort to.
" Force is at best
A fearful thing e’en in a righteous cause.
God only helps when man can help no more.”
Strikes have arisen for the purpose of securing higher wages,
for resisting a fall of wages, for opposing or preventing the
introduction of machinery, for obtaining a reduction of the
hours of labour, for resisting any addition to the number of
apprentices. They have been waged against the employment
of non-unionists, against contract work, against piece-work and
�STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
«7
overtime, or to secure overtime beginning earlier. Only the
other day there was a strike in London in consequence of
the employment of plasterers to do a kind of work which the
bricklayers thought they were themselves entitled to do. And
in another case, a printing office lost some of its best members
for the sole reason that the masters accepted in their em
ployment one who had not a full certificate of apprenticeship,
though as able as any of the rest. By what criterion shall
we judge of the justice of such a course where there is no
inalienable right to depart from? The labourer has a right
to his wages, but the rate of wages is a matter of contract, and
depends more on the operation of economic laws than on the
will of the master. Where is the right of the labourer to prevent
any economy of labour by machinery ? On what principle can
he oppose the employment of non-unionists? The right to
resist, and the rectitude of the cause for which resistance is
made, are two distinct things.
An impression seems to exist among our workmen that it is
advantageous to them to show that they are in earnest in
resisting any attempt on the part of masters to ignore their just
rights, and that whether they gain or not the object in view in
the particular instance, they are enabled by such resistance to
secure better terms for the future. A strike, say they, is the
only remedy we have in our own hands. What else can we do ?
What, if masters, strong as a money power, presuming on our
weakness, are found to set aside all considerations of moral
duty, to stretch unduly the laws of economic science, and to
impose conditions which we cannot accept,—what other course
can we pursue but refuse to work at their terms, or, in short, to
strike ? Against such considerations, however, be mindful, I
pray you, to place the immediate sacrifices you thereby inflict
on yourselves, the injury you cause to large multitudes who
can ill spare any cessation of labour, the disorganization of the
industry, the hatred and rancour engendered in your relations
�88
STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS.
with your employers, the chance of failure in the struggle, the
want of security as to the maintenance of your success should
you be so fortunate as to obtain what you strive for, the loss of
wages, the loss and waste of funds the fruit of years of labour
and privations, the injury to theSnation at large ; for remember
that trade is a plant of tender growth, it requires sun and soil
and fine seasons to make it thrive and flourish. It will not
grow like the palm-tree, which with the more weight and
pressure rises the more.” Ere you strike, I pray you, count the
cost. The present dispute in the cotton trade, for instance, is
fraught with danger. Whatever reason there may be for re
vising the standard list, that is no excuse for a strike, especially in
mills where no ground of complaint really exists. Nor have the
masters any justification for a general lock-out simply because
a few workmen in certain mills have unhappily taken such an
objectionable course. I cannot expect that anything I may
say will influence materially the progress of the dispute. But,,
if a word of mine can reach the contending parties, most
earnestly would I urge on the workmen on strike, at once toreturn to their work, on the assurance that a' committee from
both masters and men will be appointed to inquire into the
whole matter and forthwith remove any just ground of com
plaint. And on the masters I would urge not to commit them
selves to joint action in the matter, or to anything like a
general lock-out, which would be the cause of so much trouble
and misery. Ere you resort to a measure so disastrous as to
shut the door of your factories to thousands of innocent labourers,
I pray you, I beseech of you, count the cost.
Before a war is finally resorted to among nations, diplomacy
generally uses its best endeavours to prevent the sad catastrophe,
and certainly no step should be omitted to prevent a strike.
The rules of many Trade Unions prescribe that in case of
dispute, a deputation of two or more members shall wait
on the employer and endeavour to come to an amicable
�STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
89
arrangement; that the men shall first reason the matter with
their employers; that no strike be resorted to without an
attempt having first been made to settle the matter of con
tention between employers and employed by an amicable
negotiation ; and that where a grievance exists, the labourers
shall, in the first place, solicit their employer or foreman for
relief from the same. Now it is only fair to expect from the
masters that they should follow a similar course, for I do not
think it would be beneath their dignity to descend a little and
reason with their workmen on the ground of dispute between
them. How much misgiving, how much prejudice would be saved,
if masters only condescended to reason with their men, not as
so many hands in their service, but as men, working with and
for them ! When masters give sudden notice of a reduction of
wages, without saying why and under what circumstances, the
men are under the necessity of taking an immediate course,
and having had no previous consultation, or time to deliberate^
they cannot help assuming a position of resistance not easily
altered by subsequent action. It is an unfortunate consequence
of the present organization of labour, or of production on a
large scale, that the employers do not deal with the men
individually, and that they are therefore called to act together
in a kind of combination. But that should not prevent a full
mutual understanding of the matter in question. 'Only, if a
deputation be sent to the masters, let it be composed of the
most trusted members in their employment. In the choice of
an ambassador, care is always taken to send one whose pre
sence shall be acceptable at the Court to which he is to be ac
credited, and similar care should be exercised in the selection
of those who are to represent the wishes and views of the
workmen to their masters. Avoid by all means all causes of
irritation at a time when you engage in negotiations requiring
for their solution mutual forbearance and mutual sympathy.
Whatever be the issue of such direct negotiations, care should
�9°
STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
be taken to allow time to work its own good, influence of better
counsel and more ripened judgment. A disposition to strike is
incident to the association of working men smarting under a
sense of wrong. When large numbers have a common griev
ance, a spirit of opposition is speedily engendered, and it is
well if they have not it in their power to act on the impulse of
the moment.
It has been said that Trade Unions encourage workmen to
resistance. Doubtless the feeling that they have such societies
at their back may render workmen less afraid of the issue, but,
on the other hand, an organized society, acting upon rules, must
also introduce an increased sense of order, subordination, and
reflection. Many of such Unions reserve in their own hands the
right of deciding whether a strike should be sanctioned or not.
Some of their rules perscribe that no strike shall be con
sidered legal without the consent of the majority of the lodges,
to all of whom information of any movement has to be sent;
that when a strike for an advance of wages is contemplated by
any lodge, the secretary is to report the same to the Central
Committee, showing the number that would be out, the number
of payable members, the state of trade, and the position of the
Society in the neighbourhood ; that should an attempt be
made unnecessarily to reduce the wages of any of the members,
or to increase their hours of labour unjustly, they shall first
solicit relief from their employers, and afterwards apply to the
president or secretary of their branch, who shall call a com
mittee, or general meeting to inquire into the case ; and that
should the members of any branch leave their employment
without having first obtained the sanction of the Executive
Committee, such members shall not be entitled to the allowance
provided in case of oppression. Would it not be desirable that
the rules of the different Unions on such an important matter
should be more uniform than they appear to be ? I see no
reason why Trade Unions should not operate most favourably
�STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
9i
in matters of strikes, and when we consider that part of the
funds entrusted to them is expended in the maintenance of
persons on strike, surely it becomes their interest to reduce the
demand for such purposes to the minimum possible.
When a strike has, unhappily, commenced, it is too much
to expect the maintenance of much courtesy between the parties,
and many are the circumstances which tend to increase the
bitterness arising from such a forced suspension of labour.
The time when the strike happens is often most inconvenient,
for advantage is taken of a brisk trade to insist on a rise of
wages, just when the employer is, so to say, at the mercy of the
employed. What if the work in operation was contracted for
on the basis of existing wages ? What if the contractor under
took, under penalties of a heavy character, to complete the work
'within a limited time ? What if the season be towards the close,
and the opportunity of fulfilling the engagement fast hastening
away ? Two persons are engaged in a partnership at will, the
condition being that either can retire when he pleases. Can
either leave at an inopportune moment, when difficult questions
are in suspense, when hazardous contracts are pending ? And
ought there not to be in the relation between masters and
men, as far as is possible and is otherwise applicable, the same
sense and practice of equity as we expect between partners
in trade ? A strike occurs, and in the plenitude of your right
you take your tools and go. Can you compel others to follow
your course ? Can you object to others coming to take your
place? You may wish to force your master to make the con
cession you demand, and you may regret seeing your efforts
frustrated by the avidity of others to grasp the chance of em
ployment on any condition ; but remember, you have no right to
interfere, and if you proceed to violence of any kind, even if it
be a slight assault, if you indulge in such threats as will convey
to the mind of such other parties that you will bring any form of
evil upon them, either in their person, property, or reputation,
�92
STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS.
with the intent of forcing them to act otherwise than you wish,,
or if you intimidate them by any deed or word which hnight
create fear, or if you molest them or obstruct them in the
exercise of their rights,—in either of such cases you commit a
wrong which may expose you to criminal proceedings.
A reference to past strikes is not very encouraging as totheir good results to workmen. In 1834 the workmen in the
Staffordshire potteries struck for an advance of wages, and
after fifteen weeks the masters yielded. Elated by their suc
cess, however, the men thought they could demand more, and
so two years after they struck for a diminution in the hours of
labour and a restriction in the number of apprentices. But the
masters were not so ready now to make concessions. They
united together, and they decided to suspend their manufacture
whenever the workmen struck to any master. And the strike
was an utter failure, though it cost the men ,£188,000. What
was gained on the previous occasion was more than lost only
two years after. In 1853 a great strike took place at Preston
for higher wages, which were unconditionally demanded. The
masters made some concessions, but these were indignantly
refused. So the mills were closed, 18,000 Jiands were rendered
inoperative, and after a lengthened struggle, in which the men
sPent Z100,000, submission became unavoidable. A few strikes
have proved successful, but many more have utterly failed.
Not many years ago seven distinct strikes took place in
Lancashire, every one of them unsuccessful. They involved
a loss of employment to 38,000 hands. They lasted a long
time one thirty weeks, another fifty weeks—and together they
produced a loss in wages of ,£757,000 ; and if you add to that
sum the profits on capital, and the subscriptions, at | of the
wages, the total loss exceeded £^1,000,000. In the recent un
happy strike in South Wales nearly 120,000 workers stood out
against a reduction of wages, and upwards of £3,000,000 in
wages was actually lost in the contest.
Did they succeed ?
�STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
93
l?ar from it. They refused, to accept a reduction of ten per
■cent., yet eventually they were compelled by the force of events
-f-0 re-enter work at a reduction of I21> per. cent. ! Suppose,
however, you do succeed in the contest. Remember that you
will have to work a long time at the higher wages before you
■can recover what you have lost by forfeiting the entire amount
week by week. Suppose you strike for 5^. more wages, or for
more in every pound. Dr. Watt made a calculation to show
in how long a time you will get back what you had before. A
week is two per cent, of a working year, or two per cent, of
the wage of one year. Let the strike succeed, and you will
require
year, at the increased rate, to make up for 1
month’s wages lost j 3v years to make up for 2 months
wages lost ; 4-t years to make up for 3 months wages lost ,
94 years to make up for 6 months’ wages lost; and 20 years
to make up for 12 months’ wages lost.
Do not think that the money distributed by the Trade
Societies during the strike goes to diminish the loss of the
persons on strike, for the money so consumed is the saving of
former labour, which might go towards further production. It
is one of the most unfortunate results of a strike, that funds
gained by toil and prudence are expended so fruitlessly in
times of forced idleness. During a strike you not only lose
what you might otherwise earn, but expend what you had
amassed. Nor is the loss confined to the workmen. The
employer is certainly as great a sufferer, for a strike may not
only rob him of his trade for the time being, but may. make
him lose the custom which he possesses, and the labour of men
of skill well versed in the peculiar work he has on hand,
never probably to be replaced, and probably affect also his
permanent power to produce as economically as heretofore.
If the strike be for higher wages when the condition of the
trade or of the nation cannot bear it, either the community will
suffer from the increased cost of the article produced, or else
�94
STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
it may cause the introduction of machinery. A strike may
have the effect of equalizing wages. An industry badly paid
may, by a strike, attract to itself part of the wages which fall
to another; but no equalization of wages can possibly be
equivalent to the production of capital, which alone can support
an increase of wages. If the strike be against the introduc
tion of machinery, it may be the means of the trade being
transplanted to other places. It was probably an exaggeration,,
some years ago, when it was asserted that the frequent strikes
of shipwrights’on the Thames caused shipbuilding to leave the
Thames for the Clyde and the i yne ; the real reason being that
iron shipbuilding found a more natural home where iron and
coals were immediately available. Yet it is no exaggeration to
say that an industry distracted and rendered unproductive in
one quarter may take wing and find rest in another. I have,,
indeed, proved in my previous lecture that up to 1873 at least
the trade and industry of England had not suffered from the
many disturbances which have taken place,—at least, not to any
material extent,—and that foreign competition had not till then
gamed upon British industry. But what has not yet been may
still be. The danger remains, though it may not be imminent.
I doubt the possibility of our ever reaching a time when there
shall be no strikes, for just in proportion as our labouring
population rises to the consciousness of its power, and seeks to
participate in a higher degree in the profits of production, so
the struggle between capital and labour may be expected to be
more frequent. But may we not expect that, side by side with
this, a greater disposition may also be engendered to remove
sources of quarrel, to soften their asperity when they do arise,
and to settle disputes by arbitration and conciliation ? Must
force ever reign ? Is the arbitrement of the sword befitting our
character and position in life. The legislature has done
whatever it could possibly do to provide for the adoption of
more peaceful means. A refusal to leave a matter of dispute to
�STRIKES AND LOCK-OUTS.
95
arbitration betokens either haughtiness and arrogance, or
weakness.
I do not think that the appointment of one or
more strangers as arbitrators, be they lords, lawyers, or phi
lanthropists, is a desirable method, for their decision can, at
best, be a simple compromise of the immediate ground of dis
pute ; it will never be able to regulate the subsequent action of
the parties, and will be certain to leave one of the contending
parties dissatisfied with the result. A conciliation board, on
the other hand, within the establishment itself, composed of an
equal number of masters and men, with a neutral umpire, ah
of them having a perfect acquaintance, not only with the case
in point, but with the bearing of the question generally upon
production, and upon the comfort of working as concerning both
masters and men, and each of them possessing the full con
fidence of the parties interested, is sure to give a verdict
entitled to respect and assent. But let it be fully remembered
that it is the essence of arbitration or conciliation that you
commit the matter in dispute to the decision of other parties,,
and that you thereby incur an obligation to abide by their
verdict, whether it may go in your favour or against you,—
provided, of course, the arbitrators or the board confine them
selves strictly to the matter submitted to them. How far any
national board of arbitration may be advantageously established,
seems to me very doubtful. The first essential to success in any
effort for the prevention of disputes, or their early settlement, is
the possession of a conciliatory spirit, and a ready disposition
to consider the rights and interests of both sides. Let that
spirit prevail within the establishment among both masters and
men, and there will be no difficulty in arriving at an equitable
and satisfactory settlement of any disputes, however formidable
they may appear.
�VII.
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
About twenty years ago, a work was published in France, by
M. Le Play, the superintendent of the Paris International Ex
hibition, entitled “ Studies on the Labour, the Domestic Life, and
theMoral Condition of the Working Population of Europe,” giving
accurate and minute details, from actual fact, of all the money
received and expended during one year, by a certain number of
families of the working population in every country in Europe;
the income including the wages of the head of the family, as
well as of the mother and children, counting the actual number
of days they were at work, as well as any income from a garden
or parcel of land, rent of house or field, produce of pasture,
pig, sheep, or from any pension, funds, interest, and any miscel
laneous or accidental sources ; the expenditure divided into
expenses for food and drink, for house, fire, and light, for cloth
ing, for moral, educational, or religious purposes, for taxes,
recreation, or debt. And most interesting it is to compare the
habits of the different people, and the effects of temperature,
climate, race, and religion, on the description and quantity ot
food and drink used, the nature of their amusements, and the
amount devoted to the cause of charity and beneficence. I
imagine, however, that if a similar work were attempted regarding
the various classes of labourers in England, if, instead of com-
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
97
paring the French andthe Russian, the German and the Italian,
the Spanish, Turkish, and Greek labourers, with the English,
the Scotch, and the Irish, we had before us the real income and
expenditure of any number of families in England from among
the agricultural, the manufacturing, and the industrial classes,
in town and country, and in the metropolis, we would find
the same diversity of results, the same strange anomalies, and
the same gulf in the different traits of manner and character,
as can be found among them in any part of the world.
How, then, can I venture to give you the budgets of the working
classes ? Of what guidance can the income and expenditure of
one family of five be to the income and expenditure of another
family of ten ? What is there in common between a bachelor
living in lodgings and a young couple with two babies, and it may
be with a mother or father to keep ? The ways of life are very
different; so much depends on the surroundings of the family, on
the mode in which the parties have been brought up, the character,
the education, the state of health, and a vast variety of circum
stances, that, really, every household is a world of itself. Home
is the Englishman's castle—impregnable and inaccessible ; who
can assail it ? No ; my object is not to pry into matters which
are happily beyond the public gaze, but rather to lay before you
the value and importance of simply taking a good account of
what we are actually receiving, and what we are actually spend
ing, during the whole of a long year. You are aware that one
of the most important evenings of the Session in Parliament is
the evening when the Chancellor of the Exchequer makes his
financial statement j that is, when he reviews all the circum
stances connected with the income and expenditure of the State
during the preceding year, investigates the condition and pros
pects of the nation as respects the future, communicates his
calculations of the probable income and expenditure for the
year to come, and declares whether the burthens upon the
people are to be increased or diminished. This statement is
7
�98
*
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
familiarly known as the Budget, and it is regarded with the
greatest possible interest by the whole nation. Now if this is
a good practice for the State, would it not be an excellent practice
for private individuals also ! The large questions that have
engaged our attention in the previous lectures are most impor
tant. A knowledge of the economic laws which govern the rate
of wages is most interesting and valuable. Still more important,
however, in any case, is it to come home to ourselves, and to
consider whether our own annual income is fully equal to our
expenditure, whether every item of income of every member of
the family is duly gathered, accounted for, and properly utilized,
and whether the expenditure is, in every respect, moderate,
legitimate, and kept within proper control. “ Gear is easier got
than guided.” Have you ever tried to keep a diary? The
difficulty of persevering in it is immense. You require habits
of order and method not often possessed. Carefully to note
down what we are doing, and what happens to us every day, is
as difficult as to register all the money that comes and goes.
Merchants, who make all their payments by cheques, and who
draw all their current money by cheques on their bankers, have
a ready means of ascertaining what they get and expend during
the year. But those who have not the luxury of a banker must
keep a little book for themselves ; and it is wonderful how useful
and interesting it becomes in course of time for a comparison
with the past and a check for the future. Let your wife begin
to put down what she expends, and you begin to put down what
you expend,-—and what a monitor such a record will prove !
The pay of the labourer is his wages, but his earnings will
comprise also the produce of labour from any other industry
at spare hours, any allowance from any society, and the fruit of
any money or property he or any member of his family may have
at the savings bank, building society, trade society, or other
wise. The pay itself may consist either in money or in kind,
or in both ; and where clothing, board, or lodging is given, the
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
99
money value of the same ought to be taken into account. A
sailor who gets 6oj., or 70s., and sometimes 90s., per month,
must remember that during the whole time of his engagement
he is fed and lodged on board. An agricultural labourer often
gets very little money wages. But in Northumberland the
wages include an allowance of corn for a cow or pig, house and
garden, coals, etc. A hind’s poll in Scotland comprises a given
quantity of oats, barley, peas, and land enough for potato plant
ing. In Devonshire, besides the money wage, there is the allow
ance of cider, and a labourer has a cottage for £1, with a patch
of land, from which he can get vegetables for the whole year for
the entire family, and enough to feed a pig, which again becomes
a source of income. A domestic servant gets from ^10 to ^30 a
year, in money, besides board and lodging, which, in London at
least, are equivalent to as much again. In the occupations I have
noted, the combination of payment in money and kind is not
only indispensable, but really advantageous to the labourers. In
calculating the amount of earnings, therefore, do not forget the
value of the advantages you obtain from your employment over
and above the weekly or monthly wages in money.
Where, moreover, there are more earners than one in a family,
where the wife, or sons, or daughters, earn also money, and bring
it into the common purse, that must be calculated also.' I
imagine sons and daughters do not bring to their fathers and
mothers all they earn, or anything like it. Would that they did 1
A very large portion of the earnings of the younger members of
the whole working population is, I fear, utterly wasted, simply be
cause it never reaches the home treasury. The practice of either
father or children allotting any portion of their wages to the
wife or mother for their food, keeping the rest for themselves,
and throwing on the poor mother the burden of making the two
ends meet, is wrong in principle. The boarding system is wrong
when applied to the family. Oh for a return to the patriarchal
system of united and not divided interest! There are thousands
�IOO
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
of families of working people in England where the aggregate
earnings would amount to ^3 or £4 a week, but where no account
is taken of a great portion of the same. I am not exaggerating
when I say that in very many cases fully one-fourth of the
income of the family is, in this way, utterly squandered, leading
to no result, giving no comfort, and only going in waste,
drunkenness, and vice. It is the same, unfortunately, in the
country as in towns. The agricultural villages, which have been
greatly multiplied since the introduction of machinery into agri
culture, are the absorbent of most of the earnings of many hard
working agricultural labourers. The public-house, the music
hall, and other places of amusement, waste away many an income
which could maintain a family in honour and comfort.
In order to make the income and the expenditure meet, there
are only two ways: one is, to increase the income; the other
is, to diminish the expenditure. Don’t you be deceived into
any expectation that you may increase your income by any
other means than by hard work. Don’t you be so foolish as to
renounce any income now in the hope that by renouncing it
to-day, you may get more to-morrow. Get what you can, and
keep what you have, is the way to get rich. Don’t you trifle
with any penny you may get, simply trusting on the continuance
of health and work to earn more. Trust in Providence ? Yes,
but never forget the duty of using rightful means. There is one
source of income, moreover, which we should scorn to resort to,
unless under the direst necessity, and that is, the poor rate. I
am strongly of opinion that the poor law in England is most
destructive to the industry, forethought, and honesty of the
labourers. What more degrading than using the parish doctor
both for birth and death ? What more lowering than the
workhouse? What more inconsistent with political economy
than the supporting, by public rates, of able-bodied labourers ?
It is a noble axiom, that none shall die of hunger,—that the
wealth of the rich shall supply the necessities of the poor. But
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
IOI
it is communistic in essence, and in practice most mischievous.
The subject is a very difficult one, and a change from a system
which has been so long in use might be attended with hardship ;
but it is for the working classes to say how long a compulsory
charity shall be allowed to enervate the very vitals of their
character and independence. They manage poor relief better
in other countries. In Sweden, every able-bodied person is
expected to maintain himself, his wife, and children, as a legal
obligation. In France, there is no legal claim for support.
“ When the virtue of charity ceases to be private,” said M.
Thiers, “ and becomes collective, it ceases to be a virtue, and it
becomes a dangerous compulsion.” In Belgium, the classic land
of pauperism, there is no poor rate. The legal provision for the
support of the poor consists in the donations of the public, vested
in, and administered by, the civil authorities. In Elberfeld there
is a right to relief, but outdoor relief is entrusted to overseers, and
every person applying for help must show that he cannot exist
without it. In Italy there is no legal provision for the support of
the poor. Comparing the proportion of pauperism to population,
England may seem to stand better than any other country; but
remember, the amount of charity in England, over and beyond
any provision of the poor law, is far in excess of what is given
abroad. Look at the report of the Charity Commissioners. See
how much is spent and squandered in every parish. See what
is passing through the poor box in every police office in the
metropolis. The public support of the sick, the lame, the blind,
the old, and the helpless infant, is a duty; but it is a disgrace
in any one who earns enough and, it may be, to spare, to abandon
an old father or mother, a wife or a child, to the miserable
pittance of the parish. It is a shame and a crime, by extrava
gance and waste, to throw our burden off our shoulders. Burden,
did I say ? There is no sweeter joy, no pleasanter duty, than
to contribute to the well-being of our dear ones, our friends, and
our kindred.
�102
BUDGETS OB THE WORKING CLASSES.
It is time, however, to turn to the other side of the account—
the expenditure. There is a well-known saying fitly applicable
to our subject—“ Cut your coat according to your cloth.”
Measure your expenditure by your income. It is a most un
fortunate practice of our Chancellor of the Exchequer, in
making up the financial statement of the nation, that he does
exactly the reverse, by measuring the public income by the public
expenditure. But he can do that, because he has a whole nation
to fall upon, by compulsory taxation. Not so the private
individual. You and I have no other resource than what we
earn; and we must, of necessity, measure our ekpenditure
by that, and by nothing else whatever. In any case, under no
circumstances, allow yourselves to fall into debt, for it is the
certain source of ruin. “Out of debt out of danger.” A very
large number of the plaints brought before the county courts
consist of sums not exceeding 4°r., and many are for sums not
exceeding ij. It is impossible to exaggerate the burden, the
aggravation, the misery, and the dependence of a man who
gets into the habit of purchasing what he requires, often, it may
be, in excess of what he needs, but with the consciousness of
not having the wherewithal to pay for it. “ Cut your coat ac
cording to your cloth.” Never give out what does not come in.
Avoid, above all, shop debt ; for you pay very dear for it, in
exorbitant prices of all you purchase.
I do hope Mr. Bass
will succeed in his effort to abolish imprisonment for debt, as
a discouragement to shops to sell on credit, for then prices would
sink to the scale of cash prices, and shopkeepers would get rid
of a great deal of care. Have the money before you spend it,
and you will be sure to economise it to the very best.
" Ken when to spend, and when to spare,
And when to buy, and you’ll ne'er be bare,”
The expenditure of a working man’s family cannot differ very
much from the expenditure of a person of the middle classes,
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
103
except in this, that the proportion of what is spent in necessaries,
comforts, or luxuries must vary according to the amount of
income. With 5 or. or 6or. a week, you may devote some
portion to the comforts or even the luxuries of life. With 20J.
a week, you may be thankful if you can provide for the neces
saries of life. Our absolute wants usually consist of bread,
flour, vegetables, meat, butter, sugar, tea, and milk ; house-rent,
fire and light, clothing, and the education of children. These
are the necessaries of life. The comforts of life consist, pro
bably, in an extensive use of these very things, plus spices and
condiments, newspaper and omnibus, church and charity,
an excursion, and some insurance for the future. And the
luxuries may consist of tobacco and drink, frivolities, pots
of flowers, keeping of birds, etc. But are we all agreed in
such a classification as this ? Time was when white bread
was a luxury ; now it is an article of common use, as a neces
sary of life. Meat is necessary, but is it necessary to eat it
every day ? And is there not a material difference between
purchasing a prime joint and other portions equally if not
more nutritious ? Clothing is necessary, but what clothing ?
Are bonnets with feathers and flowers necessary ? Are twenty
yards necessary for a dress ? N eed we all dress in silk attire ?
Whether an article of use is to be classed among the neces
saries, comforts, or luxuries of life depends in a great measure
on the standard by which we are guided, on the ideal we form
for ourselves of our own wants.
Looking over a large number of budgets in the work already
■quoted on European labourers, in returns kindly sent to me
direct by several workmen, and in the reports of the Secre
taries of Legation on the industrial condition of the working
classes abroad,* the conclusion I arrive at of a legitimate
appropriation of wages is somewhat as follows : 60 per cent.
* See Appendix B.
�104
BUDGETS OF THE WOEKTNG CLASSES.
is required for food and drink ■ 12 per cent, for'rent and taxes •
10 per cent, for clothing; 6 per cent, for fire and;[light; 1 peicent. for newspapers, omnibus, or travelling;' 4 per cent, for
church, education, and charity; 2 per cent, for amusementsand 5 per cent, for savings. In other words, for every pound of
wages the expense would be-12.. for food and drink; 2s.
for
lodgmg; 3d. forfiring and light; 2s. for clothing; 2ff. for omnibus
and newspaper ; t,. 6d. for church, education, and charity •
for amusements; and u. for saving in any insurance company
or benefit club. But this takes no account of the doctor’s bill
nor of slack time, and it would be only fair that some economy
should be made in either of the items to meet these possible
if not unavoidable, drawbacks. Nor are drink and tobacco’
specially calculated, for the cost of a reasonable quantity of beer
should certainly be included in the 12J. for food and drink
and the cost of the tobacco should be included in the expense
for amusement,-if, by any construction of language, smoking
can be considered an amusement. As a general rule, the neces
saries of life should be first provided ; and whatever excess may
remam may go towards the comforts of life; but, under any cir
cumstance, leave something for saving. It may be kind to be
liberal, and to be anxious to make every member of the family,
day by day, as comfortable as your means allow; but it is
kinder far to provide something for the almost inevitable con
tingency of sickness, want of work, or old age, when you, that
are now the strength and support of the family, are com
pelled sadly to put all work aside, or when any member of your
family, from disease or otherwise, may have to draw more on
your resources than you are able to provide.
Need I say that a considerable economy may be effected in
our. every-day expenditure without abridging in the slightest
manner our means of subsistence and comfort ? You buy | of
an ounce of the best tea, and you are charged fff.—equivalent to
4s- per pound. Buy J pound for cash, and you may get the same
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
105
tea at the rate of y. or 2s. 6d. per pound. Is there not much
waste in our cooking ? Is there not wanton waste in many of our
household arrangements ? A penny here and a penny there, and
soon shillings and pounds vanish. It is, however, impossible,
when we come to details such as these, not to place in the very
foremost rank of waste a very considerable portion of what is
spent in drink. Am I wrong in supposing that a person earning
30^. a week will spend 3^. in drink, that being considered a
moderate allowance for dinner and supper ? Am I exaggerating
when I say that in a very large number of cases that pro
portion is far, far exceeded, the amount so expended often being
more than 25 or 30 per cent, of the income ? What is the use
of reasoning on economy in little matters with such a drain
as this? What can the poor wife do with the very small
amount entrusted to her for housekeeping? And how often
does a dissipated husband make a dissipated wife ! What a
wretched example for children ! What a source of vice and
crime drunkenness is proving over the whole country! I am
not in favour of the so-called Permissive Bill, because it would
introduce strife in parishes, and because I think it would, at
best, be of partial application, and might be applied just
where it is least needed.
Nor can I say that we should
lightly interfere with any legitimate business, or with the
common rights of the people.
If there is a demand, the
supply will most assuredly be forthcoming somehow or other.
No, the reform must begin with ourselves. Reasons of duty,
reasons of self-respect, reasons of education, must impel us
to remove this source of scandal, at any rate, from our own
shoulder, and by our exhortation, and by our example, strive to
blot it out from the escutcheon of England. When I last
visited Liverpool I was attracted by the cocoa-shops established
in the immediate centre of the dock and sea-faring population,
and there I got a mug of cocoa for \d. and a scone for ^d.—both
excellent and satisfying. Take that in the morning, and you
�io6
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES
will find it an excellent preservative against any craving for
strong drink. All honour to Mr. Lockhart for his noble efforts
in that direction. Would that we had such cocoa-shops in
London! Would that public-houses without drink, and public
coffee and working men’s clubs,, were multiplied, for I am sure
there is ample room, and an imperious need, for extensive
efforts in improving the morals of the people in this one direc
tion. I do not trust much in the power of an Act of Parliament
to make people temperate. But I do trust in a sound and
wholesome public opinion, and I appeal to you to create it by
your hearty, spontaneous, and energetic example and action.
Who will help in this glorious enterprise? Do not wait for
great opportunities. Begin at once, and at home. In Mr.
Smiles’ excellent work on Thrift there is a story illustrative of
the influence of example in this matter which is worth re
peating :—
“A calico printer in Manchester was persuaded by his wife,
on their wedding-day, to allow her two half-pints of ale a day,
as her share. He rather winced at the bargain, for, though a
drinker himself, he would have preferred a perfectly sober wife.
They both worked hard, and he, poor man, was seldom out of
the public-house as soon as the factory was closed. She had
her daily pint, and he, perhaps, had his two or three quarts,
and neither interfered with the other, except that, at odd times,
she succeeded, by dint of one little gentle artifice or another,
to win him home an hour or two earlier at night, and now and
then to spend an entire evening in his own home. They had
been married a year, and on the morning of their wedding
anniversary the husband looked askance at her neat and
comely person, with some shade of remorse, as he said, ‘ Mary,
we’ve had no holiday since we were wed ; and, only that I have
not a penny in the world, we’d take a jaunt down to the village
to see thee mother.’
Would’st like to go, John ?’ said she, softly, between a smile
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
and a tear, so glad to hear him speak so kindly,
io7
so like old
times. £ If thee’d like to go, John, I’ll stand treat.’
“ £ Thou stand treat! ’ said he, with half a sneer : £ has’t got a
fortune, wench?’
« £ Nay,’ said she, £ but I’ve gotten the pint o’ ale.’
“ £ Gotten what ? ’ said he.
“ £ The pint o’ ale,’ said she.
“ John still didn’t understand her, till the faithful creature
reached down an old stocking from under a loose brick up the
chimney, and counted* over her daily pint of ale, in the shape
of three hundred and sixty-five threepences, or ^4 4-y* 6^-, and
put them into his hand, exclaiming, £ Thou shalt have thee
holiday, J ohn 1 ’
“John was ashamed, astonished, conscience-stricken, charmed,
and wouldn’t touch it. £Hasn’t thee had thy share? Then
I’ll ha’ no more ! ’ he said. He kept his word. They kept theii
wedding day with mother, and the wife’s little capital was the
nucleus of a series of frugal investments, that ultimately swelled
out into a shop, a factory, a warehouse, a country seat, a carriage,
and perhaps a Liverpool mayor.”
In England, the working classes have not much reason to
complain that their taxes are too heavy. That every subject
of the kingdom should, in proportion to his means, contribute his
quota to the general taxation is a principle of finance universally
admitted.
As members of the commonwealth, we are all,
though certainly in different degrees, interested in securing its
preservation and advancement. The poorest among us feels
an interest, if not pride, in the honour and glory of his fatherland. In truth, we should regard the national expenditure in
the light of an insurance, and the payment of the premuim as
a common duty and privilege. During the last thirty years,
however, nearly every step in the reform of the Budget has
been in the direction of lessening the taxes which pressed on
the necessaries of life, and of increasing the taxes affecting
�10S
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
wealth, industries, and, especially, luxuries. Taxes on sugar, tea,
co ee, corn, and on a vast number of imported articles have
been greatly reduced, or remitted altogether; and in their stead
stamp duties, income tax, land tax, probate duties, and duties on
spirits malt, wine, and tobacco have been newly imposed or in
creased. And what is the result? Of the taxes affecting wealth
and industry, amounting in all to
000,000, the working
classes do not pay more than half a million. Of taxes on ne
cessaries they may pay probably £2,500,ooo-the greater part on
tea. But of the taxes on luxuries, including spirits, malt, and to
bacco, the working classes pay their full quota in some£23,ooo,ooo
a year. But this large sum of taxation, borne by the working
classes under this head, is entirely voluntary. Give up drinking,
give up tobacco, and you avoid nearly every farthing of taxation.
owhere, probably, are the working classes treated with more
consideration than in England. What a pity that greater advan
tage is not taken of this wonderful exemption ! As it is, no tax
of any consequence is paid by the working classes, except in
t e slight addition caused by the duties on the cost of their
spirits, malt liquor, or narcotics ; and no one would grumble if
these taxes were considerably increased.
I have ventured to give what might be deemed a legiti
mate distribution of the expenditure of our working classes
Now, look at the results. I have estimated the total annual
wages and earnings of the working classes at the large amount
o £400,000,000, including money and money’s worth ; but take
no account of money’s worth, and assume only £300,000,000
in hard cash as falling into the hands of our working classes.
And on the proportion given, the money should go in the following
shapes : £180,000,000 would be expended on food and drink;
£36,000,000 in rent; £6,000,000 in firing and light; £30,000,000
m clothing; £3,000,000 in newspapers, omnibuses, and rail
way travelling, £12,000,000 in church, education, and
charity; £6,000,000 in amusements; whilst £15,000,000 would
�BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES. '
109
be reserved, for savings. But is the money so expended ?
Let us see. We may fairly assume that the ,£180,000,000 is
fully expended in food. The £36,000,000 laid down for house
rent tallies, so far, with the census report of 1871, showing
that the rental of houses under ,£20 had an estimated
aggregate annual value of ^32;000?000, Fire and light will
cost quite as much as I have estimated. The amount given for
clothing is, I fear, rather below than above the amount annually
expended. And so, probably, the amount given for amusements
and other items. But as for the ^12,000,000 expended in church,
education, and charity, and ,£15,000,000 reserved for saving,
alas ! where are they ? No, my calculations are fallacious in
two distinct items. Instead of the 60 per cent, given for food
covering the amount expended in drink, that item, to the ex
tent of fully 15 per cent, of the whole income, or £45,000,000,
and also 2 per cent, or £6,000,000 for tobacco, or, in all,
,£51,000,000, must be added as a separate and additional ex
penditure. But if this large amount is really so expended, as
is, unhappily, most likely to be the fact, if it is not indeed
greatly exceeded, what remains for church, education, and
charity, or for savings, or for any other rational purpose ?
Positively nothing. The little saved—probably £3,000,000 or
,£4,000,000 a year—as indicated in the annual increase of the
amount in the savings banks, friendly and building societies,
co-operative societies, etc., is the fruit of the economies of some
families, too few in number to constitute any perceptible
percentage in the whole number of the working population of
the country.
Now this I consider a very lamentable result of the budgets
of the working classes. What wonder if debt and pauperism
be rampant? What surprise can it cause that days of
sunshine and prosperity are so soon followed by dark,’ dark
days of misery and wretchedness ? I hope I may be wrong in
my calculations.
But if I am not, as I fear is not the case, it
�no
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
may not be in vain that I have called your attention to the
subject.
In discoursing upon the budgets of the working
classes, it would be wrong to ignore the thousand cases of
real, unmistakable hardship. That there is real poverty in
the land, that there is suffering, want, and misadventure, who
can ignore? The difficulties of the poor, their valour and
fortitude in bearing with and mastering them, are best known
to those who come most intimately in contact with them.
Their charitable disposition towards their friends in trouble,
their self-sacrifice, their heroism in labour, have been depicted
by the most masterly hands. But I am now speaking to the
great mass of our working men and women, and I say, if you
will avoid falling into the deep mire of calamities, if you will
maintain yourselves in comfort, honour, and self-reliance, look to
your budget, and endeavour so to economise your income that
you may have always enough and to spare.
�VIII.
SAVINGS BANKS AND OTHER INVESTMENTS OF THE
WORKING CLASSES.
The drift of all my Lectures has been—Look well into your
estate. Large economies depend upon little economies. If
you must be liberal in some kind of expense, do try to save in
some other. If you will be plentiful in diet, be at least saving
in drink. Let not your candle burn at both ends. By all
means, try to save. But how ? By putting aside whatever is
not absolutely indispensable for present want, in order that you
may make a reserve for unforeseen eventualities. And be not
ashamed to save. Call it not penury, miserliness, niggardliness,
and the like. A disposition to save for the future, a prescience
of, and a preparation for, what is to come, are just what place
us above the brute. Savages are not thrifty. They live from
day to day.
It is prudence that prompts us to save, and
wisdom that regulates the amount of our savings. It is modera
tion which enables us to realize any saving, and intelligence
which enables us to render it fruitful. And what are prudence,
wisdom, moderation, and intelligence, but the offspring of
civilization and morals? To have no thought for the morrow,
to have no regard for the welfare of friends and relatives, to
make no provision for old age and sickness, to indulge in
waste while the sun shines, never reflecting that after summer
�112
SA TINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
comes winter, are not consistent with our moral duties and
obligations. Is it a true picture of the English what Mr.
Smiles said, that though they are a diligent, hard-working, and
generally self-reliant race, they are not yet sufficiently educated
to be temperate, provident, and foreseeing; that they live for
the present, and are too regardless of the coming time ; that
though industrious, they are improvident—though money-making
they are spendthrift. I would fain believe that the future is too
highly drawn, for, certainly, there is no nation of the world that
puts aside so much wealth from year to year as England. What
is it but thrift that renders this country able to accumulate
capital at such an enormous ratio ? Ask the merchant and the
manufacturer, and they will tell you that they must and do
strain every nerve to increase their capital. The State, it is true,
has no reserve in the Tower to meet any possible contingency of
war as France had, prior to the Napoleonic wars, in the palace
of the Tuileries. We make no account of the blessing of water
when it rains in abundance. We have no public granaries for
the storing of the surplus of prosperous harvest years. Yet
production and saving must be far in excess of our expenditure,
or else how could wealth increase so fast ? No, there is much
saving going on in England, but the effort is made compara
tively by the few. How often do we see calculations, almost
fabulous, of what good could be done if we would only put
aside what is superfluous or wasteful! What number of churches
and schools, of museums and palaces, of parks and gardens,
could be built and provided with the expenses now allotted to
the army and navy, or the sum devoted to the interest of the
national debt, or the amount expended in drink, or any other
luxuries. Alas I alas! the dreams of the reformer are not so
easily realized.
The first step in the way of saving is to spend well.
You
save one pound. Spend it on some evening classes to learn
drawing or mechanics, arithmetic or French, whatever may be
�SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
113
most useful to you. Remember, we are never too old to learn.
Better late than never. You save another pound. Buy Cassell’s
Popular or Technical Educator. Spend it in, or set it aside to
wards, a new set of tools for your employment. • Lay it out, in short,
in what may be useful to you in improving your fitness for work,
in enabling you to raise yourself and earn better wages. Howmuch has been set aside in tools and implements by our work
ing classes it would be difficult to estimate. A joiner’s tools
may be worth £10, and more, but unhappily with the introduc
tion of machinery the labourer is no longer called to provide
himself with tools and implements, and so this form of saving is
rather diminishing than increasing. Well prepared for your
work, look to your house. By all means let it be comfortable,
cheerful, and well furnished. Mr. Mundella noticed the great
demand for pianofortes and other musical instruments for work
ing men’s houses. Do not indulge in luxuries, but do take a
pride in having a pretty house, a full house, and a comfortable
home. Am I wrong in taking ^10 each, at least, as the
value of furniture in the 3,500,000 houses tenanted by working
people? If so, then some ^35,000,000 or ^40,000,000 must
have been set aside by them in this form.
Under no circumstances, I pray you, keep your money in
your pockets, for it may not be long there. The coin is round,
and it rolls away swiftly. Temptations are strong. The shops
are inviting. If you keep your money loose, you may not have
the fortitude to resist the attraction to spend it amiss. So put
it aside. And where ? Not inside an old stocking, not under a
brick, but at the savings bank. The savings banks only com
menced with the opening of the present century. In 1798,
a Miss Priscilla Wakefield founded a bank at Tottenham, for
receiving the savings of workwomen and female domestic ser
vants. In 1799, an offer was made by the Rev. Joseph Smith,
of Wendover, to receive any part of the savings of the people in
his parish every Sunday evening, during the summer, and to
8
�H4
SA CLEGS OR THE WOREiimG CLASSES.
repay them at Christmas, with the addition of one-third of the
whole amount deposited, as a bounty; and in 1810, the Rev.
Henry Duncan founded the Parish Bank Friendly Society at
Ruthwell. These were the days of small things, but institutions
of this nature soon multiplied, and so a Bill was introduced in
the House of Commons by Mr. Whitbread to make use of the
Post Office machinery for the purpose of receiving and repaying
the savings of the people, though matters were not ripe for that
step. However, in 1817 the first Act was passed upon the subject,
authorising the formation of savings banks for the purpose of
receiving deposits of money for the benefit of the persons de
positing, allowing the same to accumulate at compound interest,
and to return the whole, or any part of the same, to depositors,
after deducting the necessary expense of management, but
deriving no profit from the transaction. The limit of the de
posits was set at ^100 for the first year, and /50 for every year
following, and the interest allowed to depositors was 4 per cent,
net; the Commissioners for the Reduction of the National Debt
paying the trustees for the amount invested with them, at the rate
of 3d. per day for every ^100, producing an interest of ^4 iu. 3^.
Some change was made in the limits of deposits in 1824, reducing
it to ^30 for the first year, and ^30 for the subsequent ones; the
whole not to exceed ^150, and interest to cease when principal
and interest amounted to ^200,—as at present. But money
having become less valuable, in 1844 the interest to depositors
was reduced to ^3 os. iod. per cent, per annum. And how
great has been the success of such measures ! In 1817, on the
first formation of these banks, the amount due to depositors
was^^ooo. In 1831, the amount rose to ^15,000,000, and
thirty years after, in-1861, it reached £42,000,000. By that
time, however, the proposal to make use of the Post Office for
facilitating the employment of the savings of the people acquired
more force from the failure of some savings banks, whilst the
eagerness shown by the people in France in responding to the
�SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
115
appeal of Napoleon III. for one loan after another, with full
confidence in their national securities, commended the use of
the Post Office as an instrument for multiplying the means of
depositing the savings of the people all over the country, as
alike convenient and advantageous. So the suggestion years
before made by Mr. Whitbread was taken up in earnest. And
in i860 Mr. Gladstone laid before the House of Commons a
plan which became the basis of the pi esent system. For a
short time, the old savings banks somewhat suffered from the
presence of these fresh competitors, but they speedily recovered,
and now whilst the Trustees Savings Banks have an amount as
large as ever, or ^42,000,000, the Post Office Banks, so suddenly
sprung up, have already in hand ^25,000,000—making in all
^67,000,000.
This amount is supposed to represent, at least to a large ex
tent, the savings of the labouring classes. There is no means,
however, of ascertaining the classes of persons to whom such
deposits really belong. The probability is that not an incon
siderable portion of such savings belongs to the middle classes,
who need such instruments of saving quite as much as the
working classes. If we take two-thirds of the whole amount
as belonging to the working classes, the sum to their credit
would be ^45,000,000. Nor is this all, for there are a large
multitude of small savings banks connected with Sunday
schools, churches, and other societies, which are of great value,
and which would be found to have together a handsome sum.
The present Post Office Savings Banks fail in their not being
open in the evening, particularly on Fridays and Saturdays,
in their not receiving less than one shilling at a time, and in
their limiting the deposits to ^3° a year. The Society of Aits
and the Provident Knowledge Society represented these wants
to the Postmaster-General, and whilst he consented to open the
banks in the evening, at least gradually, he objected to the
diminution of deposits to less than ij. on the ground of expense-
�u6
SAJHNGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
As it is, every transaction of a depositor, whether he pays in
or draws out money, costs the State nearly 6d. Let the de
posit be i^„ and for each transaction the cost may be ij.
To the objection against the limits of £3o, the Postmaster
said that it was necessary to maintain it on account of
expense, and also for the purpose of keeping clear of com
petition with the ordinary business of bankers. Meanwhile,
however, the National Penny Bank has been founded, in which
our friend Mr. Hamilton Hoare takes a deep interest. It is
open in the evening. It has school branches and workshop
branches, and it is perfectly safe. Patronise it with your pennies,
Do not imagine, indeed, that every penny or pound once de
posited at the savings banks is allowed to remain there. Far,
far from it. It is an advantage certainly of the savings bank
that you have no trouble in taking out whatever you need, but
remember the pith and marrow of the transaction is to keep the
money there. Once taken out, unless, indeed, for the purpose
of a better investment, and it is done. Look at the accounts for
1875, for England only. During that year the old Trustees
Savings Bank received /6,656,000, and actually paid out
^7?O49?OO°? or more than they got. True, some of that money
has possibly been transferred to the Post Office Savings Banks,
and there we find that they received in the year .£8,779,000,
and paid back £6,864,000. But, certainly, it is not satisfactory
that, with receipts amounting in all to upwards of £i5,ooo,oooj
the amount left, or saved, in all the savings banks in one year,
was only £1,5 22,000. Just imagine how many must have tried to
save something, and how few have been able to manage it. How
many must have started with a good resolution, how few were
strong enough to keep to it. And how many must have used
the savings banks simply for a temporary convenience, probably
till Christmas or Whitsuntide, or till the want or the fancy
came to buy something. Thankful, indeed, we may be that
so much has been gathered, and that such a substantial sum
�OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
H7
as /45 000,000, or thereabout, remains there on account of the
nrkino- classes Only remember, it is the accumulation of very
- a matter of fact, if we compare the deposrts
per head of the population in 18S1 and .874, - find tha he
smallest per centage increase has been m England
Whilst^
England the increase was at the rate of 53 pei
•>
it was 175 per cent., and in Scotland 200 per cent.
In connection with savings banks I pray you to remember that
by allowing 3 per cent, per annum the nation loses a large sum
of money every year* The Post Office Savings Banks allow only
per cent., and I venture to say that with the present low
value of money it will not be long before the Trustees Savings
Banks will have to revise their system, unless they obta
greater freedom in the choice of investments. In France, the
savings banks invest their funds in landed and other real pro
perty^ well as in the public funds. In Belgium, they even dis
count bills. InHolland,theylendonmortgages. Needlsaytha
in the United Kingdom all the deposits are invested in the Bntis
funds 7 Whether or not greater latitude might be allowed in the
investments consistently with sufficient security, .s a question for
grave consideration. Comparing the savings bank system in
England and other countries, it would appear that England stands
far ahead, in Europe at least. In 1874, m England and Wales,
the savings banks had £2 yn 8<Z. per head, Scotland £1 1 w.
Ireland nr., France gs. toil., Holland Jr. 4rf, Austria 36s. yi.,
Germany 3^., Switzerland 84s., Italy r6r. 6.. While Great
Britain had 9,436 depositors for every 100,000 persons, Switzer
land had 20,3m, and France only 5,600. But, for purposes of
comparison, you must take into account other faculties of invest
ments, and the habits of the people. The workmg people 0
France and Belgium are less venturesome than those of Englan .
* On the 20th November, 1876, the deficiency from the amount of the liabilitS of tie Government, and the value of the securities held by the Com
missioners for the Reduction of the National Debt, amounted to £a,5^,727
�H8
0^
l^OA^VG CLASSES.
They prefer becoming rentieres, or fundholders, to having money
at their disposal at the savings bank, and still more they like a
plot of ground which they may call their own. The subdivision
o and in France certainly favours this, and the Frenchman
e lghts m it. In England land is not to be had. The funds
o not present much facility for investment. Whilst in England
no m°re than 228,696 persons are entitled to various amounts
of dividends on the several kinds of stock in the public funds, in
rance the number of fundholders is given at 5,500,000. It is
safety and physical grasp of the property that mostly attract
the Frenchman. The Englishman is quite prepared to hazard a
ittle more for profit. After all, the savings banks offer no suffi
cient compensation. All they do is to keep for you any sum
of money you please, paying you as high a rate of interest as
and indeed more than, money is worth in this great storehouse
of capital.
Next to having some ready money always available in case
of need, we do well if we can make provision to secure some
help m case of sickness, or special contingencies ■ and here come
to our aid the many friendly societies. In the savings banks
e depositor’s capital remains his own, he has full freedom to
use it howsoever he likes, and can withdraw it whenever he
likes. In a friendly society the capital of the members con
stitutes a common fund; the investor is understood to devote the
amount to the object of the society, and he can get the fund
back only on the happening of certain events. The purposes
of friendly societies are very varied. They relieve members in
sickness and old age ; they furnish proper medicine and medical
attendance; they provide members with assistance when tra
velling in search of employment; they assist them when in
istress ; they provide a sum on the death of members for their
widows and children; and they defray the expense of burialcomplete list of such societies in every part of the kingdom
would show how extensively the spirit of association is in opera-
�SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
tion First is the Manchester Unity of Odd Fellows Next is
the Ancient Order of Fore^XtXVd" ReZite
Zpeyran“ FrieX' sXyZ for its motto, “ We will drink
LX for Jonadab the son of Rechab our father commanded
"Z Ye shall drink no wine, neither ye nor your sons, fo
ever.” Besides these, and among many others we ha«t e^
c*
a »
TJparts of Oak Benefit Society?
Dreids” “The Loyal Order of Ancient Shepherds,” “The Order
golden Fleece,” “ The Stat of the E-t,” and many mu,
numberin'* together one million and a quarter of members Aft
heTe come the burial societies, with another milhon mid hatf of
members. Then the societies
ZdLiXs ” aL
Sisters ” the “ Comforting Sisters,” the United Siste ,
Xe Daughters of Temperance.” The Scottish Societies go
by the names of “ The Humane,” “ The Protector,
Accord” “The Thistle” Ireland has her Emerald Isle T
bne So’ciety,” the “ Adam and Eve Tontine,” the “ St. DommiP
“St Ignatius,”“St. Joseph,” andmany more. Besides the frien y
societE proper, there are the trade unions, which are friendly
societies and something more ; the industrial an provi en
societies, constituted for carrying on trade ; the loan socie i
and co-operative societies, which have of late made wonderfu
progress. These friendly societies have been ivi e
y
commissioners into seventeen classes. And even these byno
means exhaust all the varieties of societies thus formed. A
y
all solvent? Can they be all recommended? Their object is,
doubtless, good, their intention excellent. But do they Kt e
proper precautions in their investments of money. Do they t
sufficient account of the rate of mortality in the different emp oyments. Are the returns they give reliable ? Should W society
of this character be allowed to meet at public-houses
I
hone the Act recently passed may eventually afford sufficient
guarantees for the 4,000,000 members interested in sue
�120
SA™rCS OF THE WORIawG CLASSES.
societies, having together about g'to,000,000 or ZI2 000 000
"aXa‘
°f thCir
ove^xx:: xx xxxsfrom bWers’
yourseives with such societies, XXXXZXX
are registered, those whose accounts are properly audited and
ose which can produce real certificates that they are sound
solvent, and safe.*
ouna’
.. °.f friendl>'societies th= most useful, when properly used are
«
certa-n
AXr
"r ; “d theSC
”gSa° yiS
"’1WSe
te™inatin»’
F“Xbe
J- °r Peil°dlcal sums> "’h>oh accumulate till the
ate sufficient to give a stipulated sum to each member
When the whole is divided amongst them. The members of
funds
sue societies may have the amount of their share in anticipation
by allowing a large discount,-not all, however, but such as by a’
sort of auction, bid the highest sum of discount, the repayment
bemg secured by mortgages on real or household property The
P-mnent societies do not disso.ve upon the completion of the
ares In a termmatmg society a person must either become
member at the time the'society is established or else pay a
rge amount of back subscriptions. In a permanent, one mac
become a member at any time. In a terminating, one does not
now ow ong he has to continue his payments, and how much
ay withdraw. In a permanent, he does. Together they
have a capital of some ^2,000,000, of which perhaps ,£8,000,000
may belong to the working classes. Are building societies advantageous as an investment for the working classes ? Are they
sa^e.
toperly conducted, a building society ought to be safe,
FrieJdlySodetv^n1305^ tHat
Government shou’d establish a National
the PostOffice Savin*s Banks;
of the causes and d ° t
%
X
abS6nCe °f any reliable data
cost of management n nd°th
]iaMity to decePtion2 the
meats
&
’
he dlfficulty of securing the continuance of pay-
�SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
121
for it invests its funds in houses and other real property, and
it ought to be able to calculate exactly what its funds at com
pound interest are likely to produce. And as for conveni
ence, I can conceive no investment more attractive than one
which may enable you in a comparativly few years to have a
house of your own. In London, indeed, the distance between
your house and your work, the expense of living in the suburbs,
and the uncertainty of remaining long in any employment m
any locality, may prove an obstacle to the purchase of a house,
but I cannot conceive a more mischievous disposition m any
family than that of being continually shifting from place to
place. “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” What waste is the
expense of removing ! What unfixedness of habits '. What
discouragement to beautify your house—to make it a home.
Stay still, my friends. And by all means if you can, buy a house
for yourselves. It is the best and most profitable expenditure
you can possibly make.
The building society will provide you with a house to dwell
in. The friendly society will see that in sickness you have a
doctor, and that on your death you may have a decent burial.
But what of the friends you must leave behind? For any
security to them, you must have recourse to the provident
principle of life insurance. Based on the fixedness of the law
of nature, which not only lays a bound to our natural life, but
seems to indicate what proportion of any given number of
human beings is likely to die, at every age, the life insurer
is ready to take upon himself the obligation to pay a certain
amount to your friends and relatives whenever you may die,
be it to-morrow or fifty years hence, provided you engage to
pay, and do actually pay, every year, as long as you live, a fixed
annual premium. Suppose you have a wife and children, and
you are anxious that when you die they shall not remain pemless. If you are thirty years of age you will have to pay, say,
£2 is. 6d. per annum to secure ^100 at death for your friends.
�122
SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
But mind you—and this is a hard measure in life insurancethat if you do miss a single year, you lose all you have put in.
er, say, ten years, you may surrender the policy to the Office
and get some allowance for what you have paid. But not be
fore But can workmen engage to make annual payments, and
an they be sure of continuing them ? This is indeed the difficu ty, or the collection of weekly payments is very costly, and
hitherto, where insurance has been tried among working men, the
proportion of lapses is very large. It is certainly an advantage,
in life insurance, that it compels you to make some self-sacrifice
nay, to make a very hard struggle every year, somehow, to pay
the premium; for the longer you pay it the safer is the policy.
ou are not likely to grudge paying the premium, because you
wish for yourself length of days, whatever it may cost. And the
insurance company will be glad if you live very long, if you be
come a very centenarian, for then it will get the premium out of
you twice or three times over. But workmen having uncertain
employments have great difficulty to meet the demands of life
insurance. Nevertheless, 1 do wish life insurance could be ex
tended among the labouring classes, for it is of great comfort
and benefit, and the upper and middle classes use it largely, up
wards of £300,000,000 being insured upon their lives, upon which
they pay more than £ 10,000,000 per annum in premium. The
Government has provided for the granting of Government
annuities and insurance in connection with the Post Office ; and
there if you only succeed in paying the premium for five years,
you will be entitled, if you wish to discontinue it, to the sur
render value. But the working classes do not seem to have taken
much advantage of the plan. Founded as far back as 1865, con
tracts have been entered into for the purpose by the Post Office,
for less than £300,000. Insurance companies do not come to
you. You must go to them. If you do decide upon insuring, take
care to choose the safest office ; for valuable as life insurance is,
it should not be forgotten that’the actual solvency of the com-
�SAWINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
123
puny depends on the accuracy of the data upon which it carries
on its business, on the rate of mortality which they
™
the rate of interest which they are able to realize,. an
portion of income from premium which they are able tc. reserve
for future expenses and profits. Inthe words of Messrs. Malcolm
and Hamilton, who have reported on the accounts o insurance
companies, “taking insurance business as it ex
country, where adequate premiums are charged, and live
selected with care, the public cannot be misled if, when seek
ing an office in which to effect an insurance, they select one
which transacts its business at a small percentage of wor mg
cost, and does not anticipate its profits.”
. .
I have mentioned among the friendly societies, the co
operative societies, both for distribution and production. Co
operative societies may be regarded as a means of invest
ment, and as a mode of securing a more liberal reward for
labour. It is not indeed put forth that either co-operative
societies or industrial partnerships can supersede effectua ly, or
in any important degree, the present relation of capital an
labour, as by far the simplest and capable of the wides
application, yet it is conceived that by affording grea er
encouragement to save, and ampler opportunities tor the
profitable use of such savings, many who at present have
other prospect than that of remaining m a condition of com
parative dependence, may eventually become possessed of a
small capital. How to give to the consumer direct access o
the producer ; how to give to the immediate producer, that ,
labour, direct access to capital, either directly, by an antecede»
act of aggregate saving on the part of the producer himself or
mediately, by crediting the immediate producer or labourer with
the necessary capital,-these are the objects which co-operation
seeks to obtain. Co-operative societies have been formed or
distribution and production, and even for credit. The con
ception is certainly simple and practical. Here are a hundre
�■24
SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
men goring yearly’ Say< Z4° each> at Ieast> of commodities,
which if bought wholesale will cost no more than £3o Form
a co-operative society to buy direct such provisions from the
producer, and the profit which the retailers would have gained
Will form a substantial economy to the consumers. Or let the
price of the commodities consumed remain as they would be if
so
y retailers, and let the profits accumulate in the hands of
such society; and you will have, by degree, a handsome capital
belonging to such members, which may be employed in prouction. And thus, from a co-operative society for distribution
you may easily rise to a co-operative society for production’
Here are a thousand operatives, each having a small savinoGather them savings together to form the capital. Let the con
tributors be themselves the operatives, and the combination
will seem perfect. But how should the relative rights of capital
and labour be adjusted ? The workman, as a capitalist, has an
interest m increasing, as much as possible, the profits of the
establishment, but as a workman he is still more interested in
securing a liberal rate of wages. Here an antagonism of
interests is sure to follow, and it is a great question whether the
problem admits of a satisfactory solution. But I have supposed
t e existence of capital in the hands of the labourers. What
if they have no such capital? Can they be credited with it ?
What security can they offer? Shall we ask the State to lend
capital to such labourers if the capitalists will not incur the
usk ? The idea is in itself preposterous.
Take, however, the most probable case, where labourers have
on y a very small capital. Shall we encourage them to em
ploy their savings in co-operative societies for production ? A
arge portion of the success which attends commercial operations
is the result of the skill and shrewdness of those who engage in
them. Capital is an important element, but the capacity to
know when and where to buy and to sell, and the possession of
a spirit of adventure balanced by prudence and caution, are
�12'5
SA RINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
elements of enormous value in securing success. Can working
men lay claim to such knowledge and foresight
If they
have to depend upon others for the management of such
dertakings, is there no danger of their falling into the hands
of designers and schemers, who will soon squander
savings?
e 1
Of the many"^“^X'CeTXcceeded.
1
t chas are for distribution-as grocers, drapers, and proven
dealers—have succeeded exceedingly well, scarcely anyt formed
for productive purposes can show any real gam.
Whils the
Rochdale Equitable Pioneers-as grocers, provision dea e ,
drapers, tailors-realized a goodly sum, the Rochdale card manu
facture realized nothing, and so in a number of instances. The
recent abandonment of the principle of industrial partner^.by
Messrs. Briggs has been exceedingly disappomtmg to the fnends
“ co-operatfon ; and so also has the breakdown of the Ouseburn
Engine Works, of the Shirland Colliery, and the Industnal Ba
in Newcastle. To my mind, there is no royal road to.wealth
The workman must, in some measure, become a capitalist
before he can seek to become a co-operator with the capitalist
in industrial enterprise. And when he has amassed a ittb sum
let him take care what he does with it. In these d y , P
duction on a small scale has no chance of success m competition
with production on a large scale. Great enterprises, w,th la ge
capital, are carried on at much less expense, and can always
command greater facilities. Lay you a solid foundation for your
advancement in a substratum of real capital, foster >t bypru
deuce and foresight, increase it by legitimate means, and yo
may depend upon it that in Z/«t? you will have the surest sa eguard for independence and improvement.
§ The introduction of limited liability in joint stock compam
has opened for the working classes the avenues_ to commercial operations to any extent. All you require is capital,
�^6
SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
and this capital you must gather, little by little, by hard labour
and, it may be, by continuous toil and hardship. Gentlemen it
requires some amount of heroism to set aside any fragment’of
our present income for our future wants, to deprive ourselves
it may be, of needed comforts that we may provide for con
tingencies at present, at least, beyond our ken. But it is worth
doing. A pound to-day and another to-morrow. Now five
pounds and anon ten—it is astonishing how soon the sum grows
if you are only careful. But be you extra cautious how you’
invest your savings, for the more labour we have to give to
the acquisition of small incomes and the accumulation of small
savings, the more incumbent it becomes on us to be on our
guard, lest we should lose it all by carelessness or misemployment. Trust not on the Government to protect you. Keep your
eyes open, and mind what you are about, for once you lose what
you have got, it is extremely difficult to get it again. After all
it is not much we want. Strive for more, but be content with
your lot.
Man s rich with little, were his judgments true ;
Nature is frugal, and her wants are few :
Those few wants answer’d, bring sincere delights ;
But fools create themselves new appetites.”
But, my friends, is it only money that we should seek after?
Are there not treasures of knowledge, treasures of benefaction,
treasures of inward joys and happiness, that we may aspire to
obtain ? Must we all strike the same path ? Have we all the
same talents ? Have we all the same opportunities ? Thirtytwo years ago, a comparative youth came to England, from the
centre of Italy, unknowing and unknown. He had but one talent
—not that of the Universities, either of Oxford or Cambridge,
Pisa or Bologna ; not that of riches, or of fame ; but one com
mon to all—an open eye and an open mind, with perseverance in
duty, and hope and faith to cheer him in his path. He planted
that talent in the British soil, and there it lodged summer and
�SAVINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
127
winter, and winter and summer, giving little signs of life; but
it was growing, and it gave fruit in the establishment of a
Chamber of Commerce in Liverpool, in a work on the Com
mercial Law of the World, and another on the History of Britis
Commerce. And that talent is still growing, and has made its
possessor a barrister-at-law, a member of not a few scientific
societies, and the Professor of the Principles of Commerce
and Commercial Law in King’s College, London ;-the very
one who has now the honour and the pleasure of addressing to
you these Lectures. If you could trace the antecedents of many
of those who are now great, how often would you find that it is
not fortune, or birth, or estate, that produces our best men, but
labour, perseverance, force of will. Read Smiles’ “ Self-made
Men ; ” and you will find that Hargreaves and Crompton were
artiza’ns, and Arkwright a barber. That Telford and Hugh Miller
were stonemasons, and Trevithick amechanic. That Lord Tenterden the judge, and Turner the painter, were both sons of barbers.
That Inigo Jones the architect, and Hunter who discovered
the circulation of the blood, were carpenters. That Cardinal
Wolsey and Defoe were sons of butchers ; that the immorta
John Bunyan was a tinker, and Herschel the astronomer a
bandsman. That James Watt was the son of an instrument
maker, and Faraday the son of a blacksmith ; that Newton’s
father was a yeoman, with a small farm worth iia 6^. a year ;
and Milton the son of a scrivener. That Pope and Southey were
sons of linendrapers, and Shakspeare the son of a butcher
and grazier. That Lord Eldon was the son of a Newcastle coal
fitter and LordJSt. Leonard the son of a barber, who began life
as an errand boy. AU honour to them I Strive you to be like
them.
“ Lives of great men all remind us,
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;
�128
SA VINGS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.’’
Let our occupation be high or low in public estimation,
he is a great man who, by high character and self-mastery,
by culture and industry, by application and perseverance,
secures for himself a true individuality ; and who, with powers
fully developed, and faculties duly expanded, uses whatever
talent he may possess to the glory of God, and to the benefit
of his fellow-creatures.
�appendix a.
Statement of the weekly expenditure, in 1859, of a family consistm«
wife, and three children, whose total wages averaged th'rtV
P
week, as compared with the cost of the same arttclesm 875,>8^ and
|> 1839.—“ Progress of Manchester,” by D. Chadwick, Brit.sh Assomation
1861, revised by Dr. Watts.
|
Articles.
Expenditure in
i875-
Expenditure in
1849.
Expenditure in
1859.
Expenditure in
i
|(I.) Bread, Flour, and
Meal.
S|8 41b. loaves (32 lbs.) .. 6 Id. per 41bs.
IL a peck of meal........... is. 10d.pr.pk.
||l a doz. (6 lbs.) of flour is. lod. pr.dz.
6d. per 4lbs.
is.6d. perpk.
1s.10d.pr.dz.
5Jd. per 41b.
is.8d. perpk.
is.8d. per dz.
5
4
2
I
81- 7 I. per lb
4 9
4
oj
2
O
0
9
6
4
3
xs.4d. per lb. 0
8
0
3
6
8Jd. per 41b.
is-4d. perpk.
2S.4d. per dz.
(II.) Butchers’ Meat
and Bacon,
;lbs. of butchers' meat 8'd. per lb.
dbs. of bacon ................
6Jd. per lb. .
(III.) Potatoes, Milk,
and Vegetables.
2 score of potatoes .... is. per score
7 quarts of milk ............ 4d. per qt. .
Vegetables ....................
tl
is. per score
3d. per qt. ..
I
;. per score
1. per qt. ..
is. per score
3d. per qt...
;. 4d. per lb.
5. 4d. ,,
2S. per lb.
(IV.) Groceries, Coals,
etc.
Jib. of coffee
Jib. of tea ....
31bs. of sugar
albs, of rice ..
1 lb. butter.. ..
21bs. of treacle
rjlbs. of soap
Coals................
Candles...........
xs. id. per lb
I
I
0
I
0
5
6
0
6
6
Rent, taxes, and water
Clothing .........................
Sundries .........................
I
0
0
II
I
.
4
3
2
9
Totals
• 30
0
0
5*
sJ
0
�APFENDIX.
130
AVERAGE WEEKLY EARNINGS OF THE COTTON OPERATIVES.
Week of 69
1839
s. d.
Steam-engine tenders
24 0
Warehousemen .... 18 0
Carding stretchers
7 0
Strippers, young men, women, and
girls....................................... 11 0
Overlookers....................................... 25 0
Spinners on self-acting Winders,
Males
.
.
.
. 16 0
Piecers, women and young men 8 0
Overlookers ..... 20 0
Reeling Throttle, reelers, women 9 0
Warpers
..... 22 0
Sizers............................................... 23 0
Doubling, Doublers, women.
7 0
Overlookers...................................... 24 0
Agricultural—
Devon
Somerset.
Cheshire .
Durham .
i860.
Per week.
8s. to 12s.
12s. ,, 14s.
15s.
15s. to 20s.
Builders—
Masons .
hours.
1849
s. d.
28 0
20 0
7 6
12
28
0
0
14
28
0
0
19
32
18
0
0
0
6
0
0
6
0
20
10
26
0
0
0
6
0
0
0
0
25
16
9
22
9
22
23
7
25
18555s. per day.
1850.
Per month.
Seamen, London—
Mediterranean
.
45s.
...
.
50s.
...
North America
East India and China 40s.
Australia
40s.
Week of 60 hours.
1873
1859
s. d.
s. d.
32 o
30 0
26 o
22 0
12 o
8 0
...
...
9
23
25
9
28
...
30
12
26
30
12
32
o
o
o
o
o
6
o
6
o
1872.
Per week.
9s. to 12s.
13s. ,, 20s.
16s. 6d.
17s. to 20s.
1876.
96. per hour.
...
...
...
...
1874.
Per month.
70s. to 80s. ... 80s. to 90s.
80s. „ 95s. ... 85s. „ 95s.
60s. „ 65s. ... 80s. „ 85s
70s.
�APPENDIX.
APPENDIX B.
BUDGETS OF THE WORKING CLASSES.
Great Britain.
(From the “ Times," November Vjih, 1872.)
Weekly Expenses of a Farm Labourer in 1872 in East Sussex :—
Per week.
£ s. d.
£, s. d.
0 7 0
7 gallons of flour
.
.
0 i 4
1 lb. butter
.
.
0 0 4
2 oz. tea *
.
.
.
.
.
0 0 7
2 lb. sugar *
.
.
0 1 3
2 lb. cheese
,
.
0 0 3i
Milk
....
.
.
0 O 2
1 lb. soap
.
.
0 O I
Soda and blue .
.
.
0 0 10J
i| lb. candles .
.
.
0 O 7
Schooling
.
.
0 0 3
Cotton and mustard
•
•
0 I 0
Washing and mangling .
.
.
0 2 0
Rent
....
0 15 10
Extra expenses per annum :—
£> s. d.
Benefit club .
Boots
....
Clothes ....
Tools ....
Faggots ....
Extra food in hop drying
1
O IO
4
0
0
0
0
0
12
4
2
I
0
2
7
4
14
0
4
0
equal to 0 3 0
o 18 10
�132
APPENDIX.
Income and Expenditure of a Tobacco Spinner in Edinburgh, the Family
consisting of Six Persons. Income: Father, 25s.; Boy in the Telegraph
Service, 6s.—total, 31s.
Expenditure :—
£
Bread, 361b. ; meat, 4Mb. ; flour, 71b. ;
rice, ilb. ; potatoes, 10J lb ; sugar,*
51b ; tea, * Jib. ; coffee, * Jib. ; butter,
0
i|lb.......................................................
Beer,* 4 pints; spirits nil; tobacco,*
0
302.........................................................
House rent ......
0
Coal and gas...................................
0
Clothing............................................
0
Taxes....................................................
0
vhurch or chapel, 4d. ; amusements,
rd.; benefit club, is. id. ; doctors
bill, and sundries, 2s. 6d.
0
Zr
16 6
0
2 4
8
I
4 0
0 34
2
4 0
IO
94
Per cent.
Taxes.
54
s. d.
0 6
6
7
6
13
I
I
9
0 34
13
IOO
64
2
Income and Expenditure of a Printer, Single Man, living in London.
Income £1 16s. od. a-week :—
z s. d.
Bread, i21b. ; meat, 41b. ; flour, 41b. ;
potatoes, 81b.; sugar,* ilb.; tea,* 202.;
coffee,* 2oz. ; butter, iooz.
Beer,* 14 pints ; spirits, * 1 quartern ;
tobacco,* 40Z........................................
House rent...................................
Coal and gas......
Clothin
......
Church, amusements, laundress .
Per cent.
0 9 8
4i
0 3
■0 5 0
0 2 6
0 I 6
0 2 6
0 2 6
21
1 4
Z*
3
8
Taxes.
II
6
II
IO
IOO
1
7
�APPENDIX.
*33
France.
{From Lord Brabazon s Report, vFjz, p. 45.)
Average. Expenditure of a Married Day Labourer’s Family, consisting of
Father, Mother, and Three Children, with a Collective Income of
£24 is. 7d.
£. s. d. Per cent.
Bread,* vegetables, meat,* milk, salt
59
13 15 7
6
I 7 2
Wine* beer,* and cider* ....
I 13 7
7
Lodging* (tax on doors and windows) .
I
5
5 8
Firing*....................................................
I
0 4 6
Taxes....................................................
16
3 12 9
Clothing*....................................................
6
I
5 9
Other expenses............................................
£23
5 0
IOO
Prussia.
{Dr. Engel’s Table.}
Percentage of the Expenditure of the Family of
A Working Man with A Man of Middle A Person n easy circum
stances with
Class with
an income of
an income from Z 9° an income from ZrS0
from
to Z 220 a year.
Z45 to Zoo a year.
to ZI2° a year.
Per cent.
. 62
Subsistence
. 16
Clothing .
.
. 12
Lodging .
Firing and lighting 5
Education, public
.
. 2
worship
Legal protection
. 1
Care of Health
. 1
Comfort, mental and
bodily recreation 1
IOO
Per cent.
55
18
12
5
3’5
2
2
i’5
IOO
Per cent.
50
18
12
5
5'5
3
3
3‘5i
TOO
�134
APPENDIX.
Netherlands.
(Mr, Locock's Report, 1871, p. 351.)
Weekly Expenses of a Mason, with a Wife and Two Children :—
Bread,* butter, milk, sugar,*
coffee,* suet, flour, potatoes,
Per cent.
s. d.
greens, meal, salt, bacon, oil,
II 11
tobacco,* soap,* etc.
53
2 0
House rent
9
6
I 3
Firing*
....
2 1
Clothing * .
.
.
9
Sundries ....
• 5 3
23
22 6
.
100
Switzerland (Bale).
(dZ. Gould's Report, 1872, p. 366.)
Yearly Expenditure of a Working Man’s Family :—
Bread, coffee, chicory, milk, potatoes, butter, oil, meat, vege£ s.
tables ....
29 6
Rent...................................
IO 8
Wood
....
4 0
Taxes
....
0 6
Clothing ....
6 0
Sick Fund
0 16
d.
2
O
O
5
0
0
50 16 7
Per cent.
57
.
20
8
.
0
.
12
3
.
100
Russia.
Annual Expenditure of a Peasant Family, consisting of Father and Son, Two
Brothers, and a Third Young Man, in the Province of Novgorod :—
(Consul Michel's Report on Land Tenure, p. 63.)
z * d.
8o| bush, rye from the land, 361b. fish, 1
sack wheat, 2.88 bush, buckwheat, salt ...
30 o
Dress,* boots, etc.
.
.
.
.
.
2 13 4
Taxes, Imperial and Provincial, at 3 roubles
per male .......
1 4
Village priest
.
.
.
.
.
o
�APPENDIX.
135
(Consul Gregnon's Report, 1871, p. 54.)
Estimated Expenditure for a Single Man, Factory Hand, for a
d.
Day’s Living in Riga
3 lbs, Russ, rye bread, at 2A copecks
si
1 lb. Russ, meat
....
3k
Coffee,* sugar, and milk.................................................. 12
Potatoes.............................................................................02
Butter........................................................................ ......
Herrings...............................................................................
Barley meal..............................................
.
. ok
10
To the above must be added lodging, capitation-tax, clothing, and per
sonal expenses.
(Consul Campbell's Report, 1872, p. 312.)
A Manufactory Workman’s Monthly Expenditure at Helsingfors
s. d.
£ s. d.
Food,
24 to30 marks .
. o 19 o to 1 3 9
Fuel,
2 ,, 2j „
.
. o 1 7 „ o 2 o
Lodging, 10,, 12 ,,
.
.080,, 096
Clothing,* 10 ,, 12J ,,
.
. o 7 o ,, o 9 6
1 15 7
2 4 9
United States (Pennsylvania).
(Mr. Consul Kortright’s Report, 1871, p. 921.)
Weekly Cost of Living of Two Parents and Three Children
in Philadelphia:—
Bread, flour, meat, butter, cheese,
Per cent.
sugar,* milk, coffee,* tea,*
£ s. d.
fish, salt, eggs, potatoes,
I 8 6 .
fruit
.
.
,
.
.
■
54
. 24
0 13 0
Rent............................................
6
0 3 3 •
Light * and Fire
.
.
0 7 5 •
Clothing *
....
■
14
0 0 4! •
Taxes...................................
•
2
0 0 9J
Other Expenses
2 13 3
100
�136
APPENDIX.
United States.
(From the Sixth Annual Report of the Bureau of the Statistics of Labour.}
Percentage of the Expenditure of the Family of a Working Man
with an income—
From ^60
ZI2O
/150
Above
Z90
Average
to Z90. to/'lCO. to/150. to ^zso. ^250.
Per cent. Per cent. Per cent. Per cent. Per cent. Per cent.
Subsistence.
. 64
60
63
56
5t
58
Clothing
10-5
19
14
• 7
74
15
Rent .
. 20
15
16
14
i5'5
17
Fuel
. 6
6
6
6
5
6
Sundry Expenses 3
6
6
10
6
5
—
----------■
----- IOO
IOO
IOO
IOO
IOO
IOO
�APPENDIX.
137
APPENDIX C.
Report of the Committee of the British Association for the
Advancement of Science, on Combinations of Capital and
Labour. Lord Houghton, D.C.L., F.R.S. (chairman); Jacob
Behrens, Esq.; Thomas Brassey, Esq., M.P.; Frank P.
Fellows, Esq.; Archibald Hamilton, Esq.; Professor Leone
Levi; A. J. Mundella, Esq., M.P.; Wm. Newmarch, Esq.,
F.R.S.; Lord O’Hagan; R. J. Inglis Palgrave, Esq.; Professcr
Thorold Rogers. Submitted by Professor Leone Levi, and
ordered to be printed and laid before the Association.
Your Committee appointed to inquire into the economic effects
of Combinations of labourers or capitalists, and into the laws of
Economic science bearing on the principles on which such
Combinations are founded, have already stated in their preli
minary Report made last year, the course they have thought
to take in order to ascertain the exact views held by both
employers and employed on the subject in question. Although
the general objects of such Combinations, whether of capitalists
or labourers, are well known, both from the written rules, which
bind them together, and from the action taken from time to
time, your Committee have deemed it desirable to come into
personal contact with some representative men from both classes,
with a view of finding whether they do now stand by the rules
of their Unions, and how far they are prepared to defend them.
And for that purpose, your Committee resolved to hold a con
sultative private conference of employers and employed m the
presence of the members of the. Committee, where they might
discuss the questions involved in the resolution of the British
Association, and with a view of reporting thereon to the same.
The points more especially inquired into were the following :—
1 st. What determines the minimum rate of wages ?
2nd. Can that minimum rate be uniform in any trade, and
can that uniformity be enforced ?
3rd. Is Combination capable of affecting the rate of wages,
whether in favour of employers or employed ?
�138
APPENDIX.
4th. Can an artificial restriction of labour or of capital be
economically right or beneficial under any circumstances?
For the discussion of these questions your Committee had
the advantage of bringing together a deputation from the
National Federation of Associated Employers of Labour, in
cluding Messrs. R. R. Jackson, M. A. Brown, H. R. Greg,
Joseph Simpson, J. A. Marshall, R. Hannen, and Henry Whit
worth. As representing labour : Messrs. Henry Broadhurst,
Daniel Guile, George Howell, Loyd Jones, George Potter, and
Robert Newton; Mr. Macdonald, M.P., and Mr. Burt, M.P.,
having been prevented from attending. And on the part of
your Committee there were Lord Houghton, Professor Rogers,
Mr. Samuel Brown, Mr. W. A. Hamilton, Mr. Frank Fellows,
and Professor Leone Levi.
Many are the works and documents bearing on the questions
at issue. Of an official character we have the Report of the
Royal Commission appointed “ to inquire into and report upon
he organization and rules of Trade Unions and other associa
tions, whether of workmen and employers and to inquire into
and report on the effects produced by such Trade Unions and
associations on the workmen and employers and on the relations
between workmen and employers and on the trade and industry
of the country.” Of an unofficial character we have the Report
of the Committee of the Social Science Association “on the
objects and constitution of Trade Societies, with their effects
upon wages and upon the industry and commerce of the country.”
Of special works we have the late lamented Professor Cairnes’
“ Leading Principles of Political Economy,” Mr. Thomas
Brassey’s “Work and Wages,” and Professor Leone Levi’s
“Wages and Earnings of the Working Classes.”
The chief functions of Combinations, whether of Capital or
Labour, being to operate on wages, your Committee were
anxious to ascertain by what criterion the parties interested
ordinarily judge of the sufficiency or insufficiency of existing
wages. The first test of the sufficiency of wages is the re
lation they bear to the cost of the necessaries of life. “The
minimum of wages,” said Prof. Rogers, “ is the barest possible
amount upon which a workman can be maintained ; that
which, under the most unfavourable circumstances, a man is
able to obtain.” But the minimum thus estimated can only be,
and is, submitted to under circumstances of extreme necessity.
“ I believe the minimum rate of wages,” said one of the repre
sentatives of labour, “ is that which, under the worst circum
stances, the worst workman gets from the worst master.” We
cannot, therefore, take the minimum rates so considered as a
proper basis for the sufficiency of wages. How far insufficient
wages in relation to the cost of living in the U nited Kingdom is
�APPENDIX.
139
a cause of the large emigration which is taking place fiom year
to year it is not possible to establish ; * but, doubtless the pros
pect held out in the distant Colonies and in the United States
of America of considerable improvement has been for some
time past and still is a strong inducement. to those m receipt of
insufficient wages in this country to emigrate to other lands
Your Committee are desirous to point out in connection with
this question that not only has the cost of some of the principal
necessaries of life greatly risen within the last twenty years but
that in consequence of the general increase of comfort and
luxury many articles of food, drink, and dress must now be
counted as necessaries which some years ago were far beyond
the reach of the labouring classes ; whilst house rent, especiallyadapted for the labouring classes, is considerably dearer. If,
therefore, the cost of living be taken as a guide to he rate of
wages, it would not be enough to take into account the cost of
the mere necessaries of life. A higher standard of living having
been established, it would be indispensable to compare the
wages of labour to such higher standard. Your Committee are
not satisfied, however, that it is possible to regulate wages
according to the scale of comfort or luxury which may be
introduced among the people, and are compelled to assert that
it is an utter fallacy to imagine that wages will rise or fall m
relation to the cost which such supposed necessaries or indul
gences may entail.
.
,
A better test of the sufficiency of wages is the relation they
bear to the state of the labour market; and tested by that
standard the minimum rate of wages which workmen are at
any time prepared to accept is the least which they think they
are entitled to have under existing circumstances, the 1 rade
Unions guiding them, as to the state of trade and the value of
labour at the time. Unfortunately, however, what workmen
think themselves entitled to have does not always correspond
with what employers find themselves able to grant. Primarily
the wages of labour are'determined, by the. amount of capital
available for the purpose of wages in relation to the number
of labourers competing for the same. But the amount ot
capital employed in any industry is itself governed by con
siderations of the relation of the cost of production to the
market price of the produce—that is, to the price which the
.consumer is able or willing to give for the same : the cost of
production including the cost of materials, the value ot capital,
the cost of superintendence, and the wages of labour.
* The average number of emigrants in the last ten years from the United
Kingdom, from 1862 to 1873, was 239,000 per annum. In 1873, the total
number was 310,612, and in 1874, 241, 014. The emigration to the United
States decreased from 233,073 in 1873, to 148,161 in 1874.
�140
APPENDIX.
Objection has been taken at the Conference to this method
for arriving at the rate of wages ; and it was urged that instead
of taking the price of the article produced, or the interest of
the consumer, as the basis of the calculation, the first ingredient
in the cost of the article should be the price to be paid to the
workman in producing it. But a serious consideration will
show that the employer cannot ignore what the consumer can
or will pay any more than the share which the value of capital,
the cost of superintendence, and the cost of the materials have
upon the cost of production ; for he must cease producing
altogether if he cannot both meet the ability of the consumer
to purchase his article and successfully compete with the
producers of other countries. Your Committee think that it is
not in the power of the employer to control the proportion of
the different elements in the cost of production, each of them
being governed by circumstances peculiar to itself. The value
of Capital, as well as the value of the raw materials, is regu
lated by the law of supply and demand, not only in this
country, but in the principal markets of the world. The cost
of superintendence and the wages of labour are likewise governed
by the relation of the amount of capital to the number seeking
to share in the different employments. The employed say,
“'We must have certain wages. We care for nothing else.
Labour is our property. We set our value upon it. If you
will have our labour you must pay what we ask for it. And
if such wages should require a rise in the market price, let the
consumer pay it.” What however, if the consumer will not
or cannot pay sufficient price to enable the employer to pay
such wages ? What, if he can get the article cheaper else
where ? Must not production cease if there be no market ?
And where will be the wages if there be no production? Nor
should it be forgotten that a general rise of wages producing
an increase of the cost of all the commodities of life reacts on
the masses of the people, and thus far neutralizes the benefit
of higher wages.
Disagreements between employers and employed are often
produced on the subject of wages by the fact that all the
elements of the case are not within the cognizance of both
parties ; experience showing that in making a demand for an
advance of wages, or for resisting a fall, workmen are of
necessity groping in the dark as to the real circumstances of
the case. One of the chief advantages supposed to result from’
the organization of Trade Unions is the competency of their
leaders to give solid and practical advice to those interested,
as to the condition of the labour market; and we have no
doubt that this duty is in the main honestly performed, but it is
very much to expect that such leaders should universally possess
�APPENDIX.
141
laive and liberal views enough to vindicate the exercise of their
enormous power, and such constant and accurate knowledge
of the multiple facts of the case as would enable them to
exercise an almost infallible authority. On the other hand,
were it possible for employers, who are not in the dark in such
matters, to make known to their own workmen the grounds of
the action they propose taking before the resolve is carried
into execution, your Committee are convinced that many
disputes would be avoided, and much of the jealousy which
now exists between the parties would be removed. The recent
lock-out in South Wales illustrated the need of such a course.
Had the facts which Lord Aberdare elicited from the principal
colliery firms in Glamorganshire been made known previous
to or simultaneously with the notice of a fall, it is a question
whether such a widespread calamity would have occurred.
It is perhaps a natural but unfortunate circumstance that
employers are seldom found to take the initiative in allowing
a rise in wages when the state of the market permits it as they
are in case of a fall, and spontaneously to offer what they must
sooner or later be compelled to grant. A more prompt and
politic course on their part in this matter would go far to
neutralise the hostile action of Trade Unions.
Your Committee were anxious to ascertain how far is it in
the mind of the employed that the employers obtain for them
selves too large a share of profits at their expense. Your Com
mittee were assured that no such doubts are entertained, though
cases were produced supporting such suspicions by reference to
the time of the great rise in the price of coals in 1873, when
workmen’s wages did not, in the opinion of the representatives
of labour, rise to anything like the proportion of the masters’
profits.* Your Committee admit that in cases of great oscilla
tions in prices, the share participated either by the employers
in the shape of profits, or by the employed in the shape of
wages, may be for a time greater or less than their normal
distribution would justify. And it is possible that some portions
of these extra profits may be unproductively spent or so em
ployed as not to benefit the parties more immediately _ con
cerned, and even used in totally alien speculations. Yet, in the
main, the working classes must receive in one way or another,
a considerable advantage from them, there being .no doubt that
the largest portion of such extra profits will be reinvested in the
* Mr. Halliday’s evidence before the Committee of the House of
Commons on coals, was that, though the custom was to give to work
men a portion of any rise of prices in the shape of increasing wages,
the proportion being an additional 2d. a day for every 10L a ton, the
rise in wages was often id. per ton only and sometimes nothing, whilst
when the price rose ar. 6d. to 55. a ton the wages were only increased 3^.
a day.
�142
APPENDIX.
ordinary industries of the country. In the end, however, wages
and profits will be divided among the producers in proper pro
portions, and if at any time profits or wages should be larger
than they ought to be, we may be quite sure that ere long the
competition of capitalists will tend either to the lowering of
prices or the raising of wages so as to make profits and wages
gravitate towards each other.
Immediately allied to the question of the determination of a
minimum of wages is that of their uniformity. In the opinion
of many Trade Unions, all workmen of average ability in any
trade should earn the same wages, the average ability of each
man being understood to have been determined in advance by
the fact of his being admitted as a member of the Union. But
a man is subject to no examination, and is generally admitted
upon the testimony of those who have worked with him, whose
evidence must frequently be fallacious and insufficient. Nor
does it appear that the rejection is absolutely certain even if
the applicant should not be deemed a man of average ability,
the acceptance or rejection of the party being always optional
with the lodge to which he is introduced. Your Committee are
therefore not satisfied that any guarantees exist that every
member of a Union is able to earn a fair day’s wages for a
fair day’s work ; and they cannot, therefore, agree in the pro
position that all workmen should be entitled to uniform wages
on the ground of uniform ability. But another reason has been
alleged for the uniformity of wages—which is still less tenable
than the former—viz., a supposed uniformity of production in
dependent of skill. The right of the workman to a uniform
standard of wages was stated to be the production of an article
which, though demanding less skill to perform, is of equal
utility and is proportionally as profitable to the employer.
Your Committee must, however, entirely demur to the principle
that, in the apportionment of wages, no account should be
taken of the skill brought to bear on the execution of the task,
since a system of that nature would act as a premium on in
feriority of workmanship. Again, by another test should the
right of each individual to earn certain wages be determined,
and that is by his productive capacity. Professor Levi asked
whether that was taken into account when the workman was
assumed to be of average ability ; and the answer was that the
amount of production depended largely upon the skill. “ The
more skilful a man is the more he will produce.” But whilst, in
so far as this answer was correct, it contradicted the principle
embodied in the preceding test, the answer itself did not take
sufficiently into account that skill is not the only element in
effectiveness of labour. There are qualities of mind, judgment,
and even of heart, disposition, and of moral character, which
�APPENDIX.
143
go far to increase or diminish the efficiency of labour ; and of
such qualities the employer is, of necessity, a far better judge
than any Union can be. That under ordinary circumstances
wages in any trade should tend to uniformity is quite possible.
The facility of communication and the extension of intercourse
of necessity equalise prices and wages : but any attempt to
compel uniformity of wages among any large number of men
of varied capacity must of necessity prove a source of dis
appointment. Much, again, may be said in favour of a common
standard of wages in any industry, as avoiding the embarrass
ment necessarily encountered in any attempt to adjust the
rate to the exact worth of each individual. Yet it is impossible
to ignore the fact that, whilst a uniform rate is sure to operate
unjustly in favour of persons who may be wanting in fairness
of dealing or capacity for workmanship, in the nature of things
it is almost incapable to exist over a wide area, having regard
to the varieties in the prices of fuel, carriage, house accommo
dation, or of the means of livelihood, as well as in the cost of
raw materials and in the processes employed as affecting the
rate of production of each individual. On the whole, your
Committee find that an absolute uniformity in the rate of wages
in any trade, though to a certain extent convenient, is neither
just nor practicable, whilst any effort to compel uniformity in
the amount of earnings of any number of individuals must
prove fallacious and wrong as an illegitimate interference with
the rights of industry.
A still more important question in connection with the subject
is how far Combination of any kind can affect permanently or
temporarily the rate of wages. Upon this, as might be ex
pected, the most divergent opinions are held by the repre
sentatives of Capital and Labour. The employers of labour,
standing on the solid principles of political economy, deny that
Combinations can under any circumstances affect the rates of
wages, at least in any permanent manner. The argument
adduced being that if workmen are entitled to higher wages
they are sure to get them, since, under the law of supply and
demand, whenever it is found that profits trench unduly upon
wages fresh capital is sure to be introduced, which provides for
the raising of wages. The employed, on the other hand, con
fidently appeal to past experience, and point out the fact that
almost every increase of wages has been due to the action of
Trade Unions. They say that without Combination workmen
cannot secure the market price for their labour, but are to a
certain extent at the mercy of their employers. That in trades
where one establishment employs a large number of workmen
the employers can discharge a single workman with compara
tively slight inconvenience, while the workman loses his whole
�144
APPENDIX.
means of subsistence. That without the machinery of Com
bination the workmen, being dependent upon their daily work
for their daily bread, cannot hold on for a market.
Your Committee are not prepared to deny that Combinations
can render useful service in matters of wages; but they think
that it is impossible for them to frustrate or alter the operations
of the laws of supply and demand, and thereby to affect per
manently the rates of wages. Combination may hasten the
action of those laws which would undoubtedly, though perhaps
more slowly, operate their own results. The limited power of
Combinations is in effect admitted by the workmen themselves.
“We do not say,” said one of the workmen’s representatives,
“ that Trade Unions can absolutely interfere with supply and
demand, because, when trade is very bad, they cannot obtain
the standard ; when it is good they easily raise the standard.
What they do is, they enable workmen sooner to strike at the
right time for a general advance. They get the advance sooner
than if they were an undisciplined mob, having no common
understanding. And when trade is receding, the common
understanding enables workmen to resist the pressure put upon
them by their employers. It helps them in both ways, and the
workmen find they can act together beneficially.” The ground
here taken by the working-men is not at variance with sound
economic principles. But there is yet another way in which
Trade Unions may prove useful, and that is by rendering wages
more sensitive to the action of the state of the market, and so
preventing the influence of custom to stand in the way of the
operation of supply and demand ; for there are such occupa
tions, as agriculture, where custom often exercises imperious
rule even upon wages. As has been well said by M. Batbie,
Wages do not change unless the causes for the change exercise
a strong influence. If the conditions of supply and demand do
not undergo a great change, wages continue the same by the
simple force of custom. The variations of wages are not like
those of a thermometer, where the least clouds are marked,
where one can read the smallest changes of temperature. They
may rather be compared to those bodies which do not become
heated except under the action of an elevated temperature, and
remain quite insensible to the slight modifications of the atmo
sphere. Until a great perturbation takes place in the conditions
of supply and demand, no one would think of changing the rate
of wages.” * After making every allowance your Committee
cannot admit that Combinations have any power either to raise
permanently the rate of wages or to prevent their fall when the
conditions of trade require the same, as recent experience abun* See M. Batbie's article on "Salaries in Bloek's Dictionnaire de la
Politique."
�APPENDIX.
145
dantly shows, and, whilst admitting that Combinations may be
beneficial in accelerating the action of economic laws, your
Committee cannot be blind to the fact that they produce a
state of irritation and discontent which often interferes with
the progress of production.
Limited as is the power of Combinations to affect the rates
of wages, still more limited is their power to affect materially the
progress of productive industry. The Royal Commission on
Trade Unions reported that it was extremely difficult to deter
mine how far Unions have impeded the development of trade,
whether by simply raising prices or by diverting trade from cer
tain districts, or from this to foreign countries. The representa
tives of capital at the conference alluded to, endeavoured to
prove that certain branches of trade have permanently been
injured by the Unions. Whether the fact can be established or
not, it is undeniable that British trade has enormously increased
within the last twenty years, and that the exports of manufac
tured goods are on a larger scale now than they were at any
former period.*
What is perhaps most objectionable in Combinations of labour
is the method they often pursue in order to operate on the rates
of wages ; for they are not content with making a collective de
mand on employers for a rise, but endeavour to force it, or resist
a fall, by restricting the supply of labour and increasing the need
of it. One such method, explained at the Conference, seems to
your Committee peculiarly objectionable. A representative of
Labour said that when depression of trade comes, by means
of associated funds the men are able to say to the surplus
labourers, “ Stand on one side—you are not wanted for the time
being. If you go on with your labour at half-price, it will not
mend the trade; we will not let you become a drug on the
market, putting every other man down, but we will sustain you.”
In three years, your Committee were informed, over £100,000
was thus paid for unemployed labour, in the hope that undue
fall in wages would be prevented by keeping labourers out of
* The following were the quantities of some of the principal articles of
British produce and manufacture exported from the United Kingdom in
1854 and 1874 ;—
Coal and Coke ...
Copper
Cotton Yarn
Cotton Manufacture
Iron
...............
Worsted Manufacture
1854
tons 4,309,000
cwts. 274,000
lbs. 147,128,000
yds. 1,692,899,000
tons 1,175,000
yds. 133,600,000
Increase
per cent.
1874
13,927,000
709,000
220,599,000
3,606,639,000
2,487,000
261,000,000
223
159
49
”3
112
71
The total value of British produce exported increased from £135,891,000
in i860 to £239,558,000 in 1874 or at the rate of 76 per cent.
IO
�146
APPENDIX.
the market. Your Committee are of opinion that the artificial
prevention of a fall of wages when such a fall is necessary and
inevitable, is economically wrong, and can only have the effect of
still more injuring the condition of workmen, since by so doing
they only throw hindrances in the way of production, which is
the parent of all wages. Equally objectionable in your Com
mittee’s opinion, as interfering with the freedom of labour and
with the general economy of production, is every regulation of
such Trade Unions that excludes from employment in the trades
all who have not been regularly apprenticed, or any rule which
should set a limit to the number of apprentices. Professor
Cairnes, commenting on the monopoly thus advocated by Trade
Unions, said, “ It is a monopoly, moreover, founded on no prin
ciple either of moral desert or of industrial efficiency, but simply
on chance or arbitrary selection ; and which, therefore, cannot
but exert a demoralizing influence on all who come within its
scope—in all its aspects presenting an. ungracious contrast to all
that is best and most generous in the spirit of modern demo
cracy.”
The only other question on which your Committee will report
is whether an artificial restriction of labour, or of capital, can
under any circumstances be economically right or beneficial. It
is, indeed, scarcely necessary to say that any restriction of
Labour or of Capital, having the effect of limiting production,
must of necessity prove injurious. Yet it may be a point for
consideration whether under certain circumstances it may not be
better for either Labour or Capital to submit to the evil of re
striction in order to avoid a still greater evil, of producing at a
loss, or working at rates of wages not sufficiently remunerative.
The labourers justify their proceedings in this respect by refer
ence to the practice of producers. One of the representatives of
labour, speaking on this subject, said :—“No doubt there.is not
a working man in Lancashire who would not say that limitation
was an injury. Generally that there should be the largest pos
sible production in a given time is no doubt a true law, but every
trade must regulate that according to its own necessities. The
ironmaster blows out his furnaces when an increased production
would injure; the cotton manufacturer runs his manufactory short
time ; and the labourer limits the production.” There is little or
no difference in the relative position of Capital and Labour as
respects their need of continuous production. Primarily, both
employer and employed alike depend upon production as the
only source for profits and wages. Whilst the employers have
the maximun interest in producing as much as possible, from the
fact that the fixed capital which they cannot withdraw would lie
dormant and unproductive while the forge or mill is silent, the
employed find it thier interest to aid in such production inas-
�APPENDIX.
147
much as they depend upon it for their means of subsistence.
The argument of the employed against a proposal for a reduction
of wages is expressed in the words, “ If you have too much of an
article in the market and you cannot sell, I would rather limit
the quantity in your hands than aggravate the evil and take less
money for it.” But by refusing to work when the employer is
able or willing to continue producing, or by not submitting him
self to accept lower wages when the inevitable law of supply
and demand compels the same, the employed only aggravates
his own position, whilst he places the employer in a still worse
strait; the certain consequence of the withdrawal of labour being
to discourage production, to enhance the cost, and to increase
the difficulty of foreign competition—injurious alike to the pro
ducer and to the whole community.
A frequent source of contention between employers and
employed is the mode of paying wages—viz., by time, such as
by the day or hour, or by piecework. There appears to be no
uniform practice on the subject. While in some branches of
industry the rule is to pay wages by piecework, in other branches
the rule is to pay by time—the reason probably being that whilst
in some branches it is easy to establish a scale of prices at
which the work is to be paid for, in other branches such a scale
could not easily be framed. In so far as the method of pay
ment can be considered to affect production, it seems to your
Committee that whilst payment by piecework is likely to pro
mote quantity of production, payment by time is more likely
to promote precision of execution. Your Committee cannot
believe what has often been alleged, that payment by piecework
is often offered to conceal any reduction of wages. If honestly
acted upon on either side, payment by piecework has, in the
opinion of your Committee, all the elements of fair justice. But
the question in any case is not of sufficient importance to justify
a breach of the friendly relation which should exist between
Capital and Labour. When either party has any decided prefer
ence for one system, it seems advisable that the other party
accept the same.
The economic effects of Strikes and Lock-outs are well known,
and it matters but little which party in the contest in the end
may prove successful. In recent years Strikes and Lock-outs
have occurred among coal and iron miners, the building trade,
engineers, the cotton trade, ship-builders, and most of the trades
and industries of the country, each and all of which have caused
serious losses on the community at large. In the opinion of
your Committee a well-devised system of conciliation is the only
proper and legitimate method of solving labour disputes. And
your Committee cannot too strongly express their sense of the
grave responsibility which rests on either employers or em-
�148
APPENDIX.
ployed when, regardless of consequences, they resort to a step
so vexatious and destructive as a strike or lock-out.
Your Committee are of opinion that the British Association
will confer a lasting benefit if, on its pilgrimage in the principal
industrial towns in the United Kingdom, it will seize every
opportunity for the enunciation of sound lessons of political
economy on the questions in agitation between employers and
employed. It.was suggested to your Committee that workmen
should be admitted to the meetings of Section F at a reduced
rate, and they commend the proposal to the consideration of
the Council. Your Committee would also recommend to the
Council to urge on Her Majesty’s Government the importance
of promoting, as far as possible, the study of political economy,,
and especially of those branches of industrial economy which
most intimately concern the industry, manufactures, and com
merce of the country. Your Committee have learned with
pleasure that the Cobden Club are prepared to offer some
encouragement for the teaching of political economy to the
labouring classes, and your Committee would suggest that the
Chambers of Commerce might advantageously take similar
means in the great centres of commerce and manufacture. In
the opinion of your Committee, a proper sense of the necessity
and utility of continuous labour, an earnest desire for the
achievement of excellence in wTorkmanship in every branch 01
industry, and a keen and lively interest on the part of one and
all to promote national prosperity, are the best safeguards against
the continuance of those disturbances between Capital and
Labour which have of late become of such hindrance to success
ful production. In the great contest which Britain has to wage
with other industrial nations, it is the interest of both masters
and men to be very careful, lest by raising the prices of British
produce and manufacture too high they should no longer be able
to carry the palm in the arena of international competition.
Your Committee regret the death of their much-esteemed
member, Mr. Samuel Brown, who took an active part in the
proceedings. Professor Fawcett, M.P., was unable to act.
But your Committee have pleasure in reporting that the Right
Hon. Lord O’Hagan, Mr. Thomas Brassey, M.P., and Mr. A. J.
Mundella, M.P., were added to the Committee.
LEONE LEVI,
Secretary.
Augusty 1875.
�INDEX
Agricultural Industry, condi
tion for progress of, 19
Arbitration -versus Strikes, 94
British Workman, characteristics
of, 7
— productive power of, 8
Butter, consumption of, in 1844 and
1875, 11
Bacon, consumption of, in 1844 and
1875, 11
Building Societies, object of, 120
— permanent and terminating, 120
Competition, foreign effects of
machinery on, 32
Capital, production in England of,
33
— causes which arrested the growth
of, 34
, .
— difficulty of accumulating, 35
— obstacles to the diffusion of, 35
— what is ? 36
— amount employed of, 41
— what determines the investment
of, 41
— proportions of, distributed in
production, 42
— stoppage of, accumulation of, 43
— consumption of, 44
•— exportation of, 44
— abuse of, 46
— relation of, to labour, 49
— distribution of, between masters
and men, 51
— and labour, partnership of, 51
Capitalists, how regarded, 68
Combinations, Old Laws on, 67
Co-operative Societies, for produc
tion and distribution, 123
Co-operative Societies, advantages
of, 124
Day's work, what is it? 5
Division of labour, advantages of, 23
— disadvantages of, 24
Drunkenness, means of surmount
ing, 105
Drink, amount expended in, 109
Education, necessary for produc
tion, 12
— technical, advantages of, 13
England as a field of labour, 15
Employers’ calculation of wages, 52
— duties towards employed, 54
— profits, 60
— risks of, 61
— power to amass wealth, 62
Earnings, of workmen, sources of, 99
— collective, what, 100
Expenditure of workmen, distribu
tion of, 103
— economy in, 104
Earnings of workmen, total amount
of, 108
Expenditure of workmen, total
amount of, 108
French workman, characteristics
of, 6
Food and drink, consumption of, in
England, n
— expenditure of workmen in, 104
Firing and lighting, expenditure cf
workmen in, 104
Friendly Societies, objects of, 118
— amount invested in, 119
German
of, 6
workman,
characteristics
�150
INDEX.
Health necessary for production, 8
Houses, healthiness of, 9
— high rents of, 9
Home, advantages of, 10
Home industry, condition of, 18
Hand loom and power loom, 18
Italian workman, characteristics
of, 7
Insurance (life), benefits of, 121
— amount insured, 122
— Government, 122
Labour, pleasures of, 1
— necessity of, 2
— value of, 3
— productive and unproductive, 3
— manual and mental, 4
— condition for the efficient dis
charge of, 5
— dangers attending, 8
— duration of, 12
— skilled and unskilled, 12
— division of, 22
— need of capital to, 37
— reward of, 49
— relation of, to capital, 49
— supply and demand of regu
lating, 57
— difficulties of, in contending
wages with capital, 70
Lancashire, progress of, 19
Liverpool, increase of, 20
Labourers capitalists, 45
Morals an element in production, 14
Manufacture, divorcement of, from
agriculture, 19
Manchester, increase of, 20
Machinery, advantages of, 25
— character of, 26
■—■ effects of, 27
— relations of, to wages, 30, 61
— exports of, 31
Minimum wages, limits to, 85
Natural powers, utility of labour to,
37
r ,
Needlewomen, low wages of, 56
Overtime, action of Trade Unions
on, 73
Pauperism, rate of, in 1849 and
1875.- 11
Production on a large scale, advan
tages of, 22
— machinery of, 50
—• requirements for, 52
— cost of, 52
Population, increase of, effect of, on
wages, 57
Piecework, payment by, 78
Pay, what, 98
Poor Law, effects of, 100
— in Sweden, 101
— France, 101
— Belgium, 101
— Eberfeld, 101
Post Office Savings Banks, amount
in, 114
Swiss Workman, characteristic
of, 7
Steam-power, advantages of, 21
Strikes and lock-outs, chances of, 85
— what, 86
— causes of, 86
— supposed advantages of, 87
— means to avoid, 88
— how promoted by Trade Unions,
90
— circumstances attending, 91
— effects of, 85
— cost of, 92
— losses caused by, 93
— arbitration or conciliation, 'versus,
94
Saving, duty of all respecting, 112
— first steps in, 112
Savings Banks, history of, 113
— amount invested in, 115
— post office and trustees, 116
— amount per head in England and
Wales, 117
— Scotland, 117
— Ireland, 117
— France, 117
— Holland, 117
— Belgium, 117
— Austria, 117
— Germany, 117
— Switzerland, 117
Tea, consumption of, in 1844 and
1875, 11
Trade Unions, limits of usefulness
of, 68
— limits of rights of, 69
— constitutional defects of, 70
— membership of, 71
�INDEX.
Trades Unions, councils of, 71
— fees in. 72
— objects of, 72
— monopoly of, 72
— objection of, to overtime, 73
— operation of, on wages, 74
— effects of, on foreign competi
tion, 82
— effects of, on the character of
workmen, 83
— and benefit funds. 84
— rules of, respecting strikes, 88
Tobacco, expenditure of workmen
in, 104
Taxation, effects of, on workmen,
108
Workmen, united labour and pro
duction of, 5
— difference of skill among, 5
Wheat and wheat flour, consump
tion of, in 1844 and 1875, 11
Wealth, benefits of. 46
Wages, what are, 51
— relation of, to profits, 53
Workman, interest of employer in,
54 ,
Wages, lowering of, 54
— minimum rate of what, 55
— of artisans, 58
— what are the elements of, 58
— cost of, 58
Wage-fund, theory of, 60
Wages, effects of machinery on, 61
— uniformity of, 62, 71
— use of, 64
— effect of war on, 65
— attempt to regulate by law, 65
— effects of prohibition tariffs on,
65
— effects of Poor Law on, 65
— how affected by Trades Unions,
76
Working-classes, Budgets of, 96
Wages in money and in kind, 99
Workmen, taxes affecting, 107
Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Printers, London & Aylesbury.
��
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Work and pay; or, principles of industrial economy. Two courses of lectures delivered to working men in King's College, London. With report of the Committee of the British Association on Combinations of Labourers and Capitalists
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Levi, Leone [1821-1888]
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 151 p. ; 20 cm.
Notes: Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Includes bibliographical references and index. Printed by Hazell, Watson & Visey, London and Aylesbury. Appendix A: Statement of the weekly expenditure of a family ...whose total wages averaged thirty shillings per week ... B: Budgets of the Working Classes. C: Report of the Committee of the British Association for the Advancement of Science and Combinations of Capital and Labour.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Strahan and Co., Limited
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1877
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
N438
Subject
The topic of the resource
Labour
Industry
Trade Unions
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Work and pay; or, principles of industrial economy. Two courses of lectures delivered to working men in King's College, London. With report of the Committee of the British Association on Combinations of Labourers and Capitalists), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Industrial Organisation (Economic Theory)
NSS
Trades Unions
Wages
Work
Working Class-Great Britain