CHAPTER XVII.

"The question of human misery—its causes and their removal, is at the bottom of the movement which is now convulsing Europe, and which threatens to agitate it for some time to come. Could some practicable scheme of relief, generally acceptable to all classes and adequate to cope with the magnitude of the evil, be but suggested, what a load of anxiety would be taken from the mind of many a Minister of State!—what comfort would be offered to many a desponding philanthropist!"Human misery has at last found tongues and pens to make itself heard and felt. It appeals to our feelings and our understandings, to our sympathies and fears. Its wails melt us to pity, its ravings terrify us, its woes sicken us. It will no longer hide itself. We must either remove it, or submit to have it constantly exposed to our gaze in all its horrid deformity."Hitherto the comfortable classes have virtually answered the bitter complaints of the uncomfortable classes in some such terms as these: 'Poor people! we are very sorry for your suffering—we really feel for you—take this trifle—it will be some relief. We wish we could do more;—and now pray be quiet—don't distress us with your writhings and agonies—resign yourselves to the will of Providence, and bear hunger and cold in peace and seclusion;—above all, attempt no violence, or we must use violence to keep you quiet.' The answer of the uncomfortable classes to such admonitions, day by day becoming more unmistakable, is: 'Relieve us, relieve us! Make us comfortable, or show us how we may make ourselves comfortable: otherwise we must make you uncomfortable. We will be comfortable or uncomfortable together.'"'Vivre en travaillant, ou mourir en combatant.' In our last number, we ventured to offer a few indications as to what we considered a part, an important part, of the remedial measures to be resorted to for the prevention of human misery. We were then dealing with that question as a whole. We now propose to address ourselves to miseries of a class."The sufferings of the distressed needle-woman have obtained an infamous notoriety—they are a scandal to our age and a reproach to our boasted civilization. They have been clothed in language at once truthful and impressive, full of pathos and yet free from exaggeration. Well known as Hood's immortal lines may be, we reproduce them here, because no narrative, no statistics of ours, could be more true nor half so much to the purpose:

"Human misery has at last found tongues and pens to make itself heard and felt. It appeals to our feelings and our understandings, to our sympathies and fears. Its wails melt us to pity, its ravings terrify us, its woes sicken us. It will no longer hide itself. We must either remove it, or submit to have it constantly exposed to our gaze in all its horrid deformity.

"Hitherto the comfortable classes have virtually answered the bitter complaints of the uncomfortable classes in some such terms as these: 'Poor people! we are very sorry for your suffering—we really feel for you—take this trifle—it will be some relief. We wish we could do more;—and now pray be quiet—don't distress us with your writhings and agonies—resign yourselves to the will of Providence, and bear hunger and cold in peace and seclusion;—above all, attempt no violence, or we must use violence to keep you quiet.' The answer of the uncomfortable classes to such admonitions, day by day becoming more unmistakable, is: 'Relieve us, relieve us! Make us comfortable, or show us how we may make ourselves comfortable: otherwise we must make you uncomfortable. We will be comfortable or uncomfortable together.'

"'Vivre en travaillant, ou mourir en combatant.' In our last number, we ventured to offer a few indications as to what we considered a part, an important part, of the remedial measures to be resorted to for the prevention of human misery. We were then dealing with that question as a whole. We now propose to address ourselves to miseries of a class.

"The sufferings of the distressed needle-woman have obtained an infamous notoriety—they are a scandal to our age and a reproach to our boasted civilization. They have been clothed in language at once truthful and impressive, full of pathos and yet free from exaggeration. Well known as Hood's immortal lines may be, we reproduce them here, because no narrative, no statistics of ours, could be more true nor half so much to the purpose:

"With fingers weary and worn,With eyelids heavy and red,A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,Plying her needle and thread.Stitch—stitch—stitch!In poverty, hunger, and dirt;And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch,She sang the 'Song of the Shirt!'"Work—work—work!While the cock is crowing aloof!And work—work—work!Till the stars shine through the roof!It's O! to be a slave,Along with the barbarous Turk,Where woman has never a soul to save,If this is Christian work!"Work—work—work!Till the brain begins to swim;Work—work—work!Till the eyes are heavy and dim!Seam and gusset and band,Band and gusset and seam,Till o'er the buttons I fall asleep,And sew them on in a dream!"O! men, with sisters dear!O! men, with mothers and wives,It is not linen you're wearing out!But human creatures' lives!Stitch—stitch—stitch!In poverty, hunger, and dirt;Sewing at once, with a double thread,A shroud as well as a shirt!"But why do I talk of death?That phantom of grisly bone?I hardly fear his terrible shape,It seems so like my own!It seems so like my own,Because of the fasts I keep—Oh, God! that bread should be so dear,And flesh and blood so cheap!"Work—work—work!My labor never flags;And what are its wages? A bed of straw,A crust of bread, and—rags.That shatter'd roof, and this naked floor,A table—a broken chair;And a wall so blank, my shadow I thankFor sometimes falling there!"Work—work—work!From weary chime to chime,Work—work—work,As prisoners work for crime!Band and gusset and seam,Seam and gusset and band,Till the heart is sick and the brain benumb'd,As well as weary hand."Work—work—work!In dull December light,And work—work—work,When the weather is warm and bright—While underneath the eavesThe brooding swallows cling,As if to show me their sunny backsAnd twit me with the Spring."Oh! but to breathe the breathOf the cowslip and primrose sweet—With the sky above my head,And the grass beneath my feet,For only one short hour—To feel as I used to feel,Before I knew the woes of wantAnd the walk that costs a meal!"Oh, but for one short hour!A respite however brief!No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,But only time for Grief!A little weeping would ease my heart—But in their briny bedMy tears must stop, for every dropHinders needle and thread!"With fingers weary and worn,With eyelids heavy and red,A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,Plying her needle and thread—Stitch—stitch—stitch!In poverty, hunger, and dirt,Would that its tone could reach the rich!She sang this 'Song of the Shirt!'"

We annex part of an article from Jerrold's Magazine, which draws quite as clear a picture of the condition of the English poor, and points out the only feasible remedy for the evils of that condition:

Whoever is unprepared to cast aside not only his prejudices, but many of what may be considered well-formed opinions, had better not attempt to peruse the following few pages. I must demand of my reader that he come to the perusal, thebeau idealof a juryman. No information that he has gained elsewhere, no feelings that he has cherished as virtues, no sentiments that he has cultivated as noble, and no opinions that he may have formed as infallible, must interfere with his purely and simply receiving the following arguments on their own cogency and truth alone.The writer considers he has made a great discovery in moral and political science; and elevated by his subject above all personal influences, he commits it to be worked out by others, without the ostentation of recording his name, or deeming that the applause of present or of future generations can add to his sublime delight, in discovering and applying a "panacea" to the varied and bitter ills that beset three-fourths of the poor inhabitants of the "UnitedKingdom."As some account of the means by which a great discovery has been arrived at is necessary, in order to prepare the mind for its reception with due respect, I shall give a brief outline of the process by which this all-important truth was elicited.Born with natural sensibilities, I early learnt to shrink from pain endured by others, as if felt actually and bodily by myself. Thus constituted, what a scene was displayed to me when I came into the great and moving society of mankind! What mighty heaps of misery did I discern! What details did the records of the various courts of justice disclose! What regions of squalor, misery, and degradation did my travels reveal to me in every city, and every hamlet, I visited! The bent of my future avocation was soon fixed, and I became a philanthropist by profession. Not to make a trade of it atmonster meetings, or fancy fairs, but as a pursuit to which I felt myself called by a spiritual voice, as distinct, I should say, as that which ever called a theologian from a curacy of fifty pounds a year to a bishopric of twenty thousand.It is not necessary to recapitulate the horrors I have witnessed in the regions of poverty. It is said that the eras of pestilence and famine are passed, but so will not those say who have visited the dwellings of the operatives of our great manufacturing towns, when the markets are glutted, and the mills and manufactories are closed. Pestilence still rages fiercely as ever, in the form of typhus, engendered by want. In the mission I have called myself to, I have stood upon the mud floor, over the corpse of the mother and the new-born child—both the victims of want. I have seen a man (God's image) stretched on straw, wrapped only in a mat, resign his breath, from starvation, in the prime of age. I have entered, on a sultry summer's night, a small house, situate on the banks of a common sewer, wherein one hundred and twenty-seven human beings, of both sexes and all ages, were indiscriminately crowded. I have been in the pestilential hovels of our great manufacturing cities, where life was corrupted in every possible mode, from the malaria of the sewer to the poison of the gin-bottle. I have been in sheds of the peasant, worse than the hovel of the Russian, where eight squalid, dirty, boorish creatures were to be kept alive by eight shillings per week, irregularly paid. I have seen the humanities of life desecrated in every way. I have seen the father snatch the bread from his child, and the mother offer the gin-bottlefor the breast. I have seen, too, generous sacrifices and tender considerations, to which the boasted chivalries of Sydney and Edward were childish ostentation. I have found wrong so exalted, and right so debased—I have seen and known of so much misery, that the faith in good has shivered within me.For a time, when I urged these things in the circles of the comfortable, I received many various replies. By some it was said that it was the lot of humanity—that it had always been so, and, therefore, always must. That to enlarge on the evil was only to create discontent, and so injure "the better classes." It was in vain I urged to these reasoners that for hundreds, and, perhaps, thousands of years, creatures little better than Calibans infested the morasses and forests of Europe. That civilization had an onward progress, and that the history of the world proved the one great truth—that man is the creature of circumstances. By some, the evils were denied: by some few, deplored. By all, the discussion was avoided; though the destruction that menaced the Roman empire from the invasion of the barbarian world was never so imminent, nor could the consequence be so dreadful, as that which the wealthy, and civilization itself, would sustain from the insurrection of outraged poverty.I next tried the politicians. I devoted some years to history and political economy. I even entered the senate. In politics, I found no means of relief. The struggle there was for the preponderance in power, and the reply, "Help us to get into power, and then we will seewhat we can do." The utmost was to institute inquiries; and from the information thus gathered, has been collected a record of misery, such as never was before displayed.It is true, some steps have at last been taken in the right direction; some few noble spirits have spoken out to the "comfortable," the dreadful truths. That something must be done, is now acknowledged by all who think. The foolish, the careless, and the truculent, can no longer avowedly declare the cries and groans of the miserable multitude to be seditious discontent; nor ascribe their sufferings to the results of retributive justice.Baffled in every search for a remedy at home, I determined to search foreign nations, and having carefully journeyed through Europe, I sought successively the East and West, until I had traversed the civilized countries of the world. It was in the remote regions of the East and West that I found a clue to my discovery. I here found mankind as multitudinous as at home, but much more happy. Starvation, except in cases of general famine, was unknown; and, on the contrary, I heard the sounds of revelry and dancing, of mirth and leisure, amongst the lowest classes. How different to the everlasting toil of the superior Englishman! "These, then," I said, "are the concomitants of bondage!" Having thus struck out the idea, I followed it up with logical severity, and enunciated the truth thatslavery and content, and liberty and discontent, are natural results of each other. Applying this, then, to the toil-worn, half-fed, pauperized population of England, I found that theonly way to permanently and efficiently remedy the complicated evils, would be to ENSLAVEthe whole of the people of England who have not property.Of course, I expect a shout of execration and contempt at such a bold proposition; but, as I have already said, I seek only to gain the hearing, at first, of the impartial and the original thinker. That I am disinterested, will at once be allowed, when I declare I do not seek to be one of the enslaved. But let us proceed to examine how this mighty benefit would manifest itself. The first great advantage would be, that the lower classes of society would be placed on an equality with the domestic animals; and by becoming property, become valuable and valued. At present there can be no doubt that a horse that is worth fifty pounds is much more cared for than a man who is worth nothing. We have lately seen a case where a woman was allowed to expire in parturition, because no more than eight shillings was allowed for the midwife's fee; whereas, when a famous racing mare foaled, ten guineas were not thought too great a sum to secure the attendance of a first-rate veterinary surgeon. Now, had the woman been a slave, her offspring would have been worth something, and, of course, her safety secured.Like all great discoveries, the ramifications of the advantages are found to be endless, and, if once fully entertained, would be irresistible. Entire and complete slavery of the poor would put an end to all the discussions of their rights, and clearly and definitely work out the relative duties of all classes. We should have no moreoccasion for vague special pleading, such as we find in Paley and other moral philosophers, who endeavor to reconcile dependence and independence, and liberty and obedience. Sedition would be at once annihilated; for where there was no hope nor recognition of equality, there would be no attempt to raise claims which were stifled before born. All vain ambition, such as that now subsisting, between the potboy and the peer, as manifested in Chesterfield's mosaic gold and cigars, would be prevented. The potboy would be a contented slave, and the peer left to his superiority in clothes, trinkets, and sensualities.It will of course be asserted that the people would not be contented as slaves, but it is only to make a state inevitable, and humanity is soon reconciled to it, as we are to death, governments, and the income-tax. Besides, what is liberty? a word now almost forgotten; a battle sound used to juggle men in every age and country; in Greece, Rome, and America, the war-cry of slaves to fight for the liberty of slavery. Must we, then, ever remain the tools of words; reject all the true advantages of slavery because we cannot bear the name, and take all its evils, and more, because we wish to renounce the sound? What are soldiers and sailors but bondsmen? Indeed, they are a happy specimen of slavery; well fed, clad, and tended; with plenty of leisure and repose. Why, then, should they be happier than the peasant, who pines away his dreary existence on bread and potatoes and water? What is the convict but a slave, who by his crimes has earned his right to be kept well andsafe from the elements and want? We reward the criminal with slavery and competence, and leave the honest man to liberty and want.If, indeed, the old noble cry of "Libertyand Beer" could be realized, then it were vain to urge my discovery; but as Englishmen, in proportion as they have gained their liberty, have lost their beer, it behooves us to see whether they had not better hasten back to that state, when inventoried with their masters' swine they shared also their superfluities.

The writer considers he has made a great discovery in moral and political science; and elevated by his subject above all personal influences, he commits it to be worked out by others, without the ostentation of recording his name, or deeming that the applause of present or of future generations can add to his sublime delight, in discovering and applying a "panacea" to the varied and bitter ills that beset three-fourths of the poor inhabitants of the "UnitedKingdom."

As some account of the means by which a great discovery has been arrived at is necessary, in order to prepare the mind for its reception with due respect, I shall give a brief outline of the process by which this all-important truth was elicited.

Born with natural sensibilities, I early learnt to shrink from pain endured by others, as if felt actually and bodily by myself. Thus constituted, what a scene was displayed to me when I came into the great and moving society of mankind! What mighty heaps of misery did I discern! What details did the records of the various courts of justice disclose! What regions of squalor, misery, and degradation did my travels reveal to me in every city, and every hamlet, I visited! The bent of my future avocation was soon fixed, and I became a philanthropist by profession. Not to make a trade of it atmonster meetings, or fancy fairs, but as a pursuit to which I felt myself called by a spiritual voice, as distinct, I should say, as that which ever called a theologian from a curacy of fifty pounds a year to a bishopric of twenty thousand.

It is not necessary to recapitulate the horrors I have witnessed in the regions of poverty. It is said that the eras of pestilence and famine are passed, but so will not those say who have visited the dwellings of the operatives of our great manufacturing towns, when the markets are glutted, and the mills and manufactories are closed. Pestilence still rages fiercely as ever, in the form of typhus, engendered by want. In the mission I have called myself to, I have stood upon the mud floor, over the corpse of the mother and the new-born child—both the victims of want. I have seen a man (God's image) stretched on straw, wrapped only in a mat, resign his breath, from starvation, in the prime of age. I have entered, on a sultry summer's night, a small house, situate on the banks of a common sewer, wherein one hundred and twenty-seven human beings, of both sexes and all ages, were indiscriminately crowded. I have been in the pestilential hovels of our great manufacturing cities, where life was corrupted in every possible mode, from the malaria of the sewer to the poison of the gin-bottle. I have been in sheds of the peasant, worse than the hovel of the Russian, where eight squalid, dirty, boorish creatures were to be kept alive by eight shillings per week, irregularly paid. I have seen the humanities of life desecrated in every way. I have seen the father snatch the bread from his child, and the mother offer the gin-bottlefor the breast. I have seen, too, generous sacrifices and tender considerations, to which the boasted chivalries of Sydney and Edward were childish ostentation. I have found wrong so exalted, and right so debased—I have seen and known of so much misery, that the faith in good has shivered within me.

For a time, when I urged these things in the circles of the comfortable, I received many various replies. By some it was said that it was the lot of humanity—that it had always been so, and, therefore, always must. That to enlarge on the evil was only to create discontent, and so injure "the better classes." It was in vain I urged to these reasoners that for hundreds, and, perhaps, thousands of years, creatures little better than Calibans infested the morasses and forests of Europe. That civilization had an onward progress, and that the history of the world proved the one great truth—that man is the creature of circumstances. By some, the evils were denied: by some few, deplored. By all, the discussion was avoided; though the destruction that menaced the Roman empire from the invasion of the barbarian world was never so imminent, nor could the consequence be so dreadful, as that which the wealthy, and civilization itself, would sustain from the insurrection of outraged poverty.

I next tried the politicians. I devoted some years to history and political economy. I even entered the senate. In politics, I found no means of relief. The struggle there was for the preponderance in power, and the reply, "Help us to get into power, and then we will seewhat we can do." The utmost was to institute inquiries; and from the information thus gathered, has been collected a record of misery, such as never was before displayed.

It is true, some steps have at last been taken in the right direction; some few noble spirits have spoken out to the "comfortable," the dreadful truths. That something must be done, is now acknowledged by all who think. The foolish, the careless, and the truculent, can no longer avowedly declare the cries and groans of the miserable multitude to be seditious discontent; nor ascribe their sufferings to the results of retributive justice.

Baffled in every search for a remedy at home, I determined to search foreign nations, and having carefully journeyed through Europe, I sought successively the East and West, until I had traversed the civilized countries of the world. It was in the remote regions of the East and West that I found a clue to my discovery. I here found mankind as multitudinous as at home, but much more happy. Starvation, except in cases of general famine, was unknown; and, on the contrary, I heard the sounds of revelry and dancing, of mirth and leisure, amongst the lowest classes. How different to the everlasting toil of the superior Englishman! "These, then," I said, "are the concomitants of bondage!" Having thus struck out the idea, I followed it up with logical severity, and enunciated the truth thatslavery and content, and liberty and discontent, are natural results of each other. Applying this, then, to the toil-worn, half-fed, pauperized population of England, I found that theonly way to permanently and efficiently remedy the complicated evils, would be to ENSLAVEthe whole of the people of England who have not property.

Of course, I expect a shout of execration and contempt at such a bold proposition; but, as I have already said, I seek only to gain the hearing, at first, of the impartial and the original thinker. That I am disinterested, will at once be allowed, when I declare I do not seek to be one of the enslaved. But let us proceed to examine how this mighty benefit would manifest itself. The first great advantage would be, that the lower classes of society would be placed on an equality with the domestic animals; and by becoming property, become valuable and valued. At present there can be no doubt that a horse that is worth fifty pounds is much more cared for than a man who is worth nothing. We have lately seen a case where a woman was allowed to expire in parturition, because no more than eight shillings was allowed for the midwife's fee; whereas, when a famous racing mare foaled, ten guineas were not thought too great a sum to secure the attendance of a first-rate veterinary surgeon. Now, had the woman been a slave, her offspring would have been worth something, and, of course, her safety secured.

Like all great discoveries, the ramifications of the advantages are found to be endless, and, if once fully entertained, would be irresistible. Entire and complete slavery of the poor would put an end to all the discussions of their rights, and clearly and definitely work out the relative duties of all classes. We should have no moreoccasion for vague special pleading, such as we find in Paley and other moral philosophers, who endeavor to reconcile dependence and independence, and liberty and obedience. Sedition would be at once annihilated; for where there was no hope nor recognition of equality, there would be no attempt to raise claims which were stifled before born. All vain ambition, such as that now subsisting, between the potboy and the peer, as manifested in Chesterfield's mosaic gold and cigars, would be prevented. The potboy would be a contented slave, and the peer left to his superiority in clothes, trinkets, and sensualities.

It will of course be asserted that the people would not be contented as slaves, but it is only to make a state inevitable, and humanity is soon reconciled to it, as we are to death, governments, and the income-tax. Besides, what is liberty? a word now almost forgotten; a battle sound used to juggle men in every age and country; in Greece, Rome, and America, the war-cry of slaves to fight for the liberty of slavery. Must we, then, ever remain the tools of words; reject all the true advantages of slavery because we cannot bear the name, and take all its evils, and more, because we wish to renounce the sound? What are soldiers and sailors but bondsmen? Indeed, they are a happy specimen of slavery; well fed, clad, and tended; with plenty of leisure and repose. Why, then, should they be happier than the peasant, who pines away his dreary existence on bread and potatoes and water? What is the convict but a slave, who by his crimes has earned his right to be kept well andsafe from the elements and want? We reward the criminal with slavery and competence, and leave the honest man to liberty and want.

If, indeed, the old noble cry of "Libertyand Beer" could be realized, then it were vain to urge my discovery; but as Englishmen, in proportion as they have gained their liberty, have lost their beer, it behooves us to see whether they had not better hasten back to that state, when inventoried with their masters' swine they shared also their superfluities.

The Edinburgh Review well knows that the white laborers of England receive more blows than are inflicted on Southern slaves. In the Navy, the Army, and the Merchant service of England, there is more of cruelty, more physical discomfort, than on all the farms of the South. This Review, for twenty years, has been a grand repository of the ignorance, the crimes, and sufferings of the workers in mines and factories, of the agricultural laborers, of the apprentices, and, in fine, of the whole laboring class of England. We might appeal to its pages almostpassimto establish these facts. Half the time of Parliament is consumed in vain efforts to alleviate the condition of the cruelly-treated, and starving poor; and much of this Review is taken up in chronicling the humane, but fruitless action of Parliament. No man in the South, we are sure, ever bred slaves for sale. They are always sold reluctantly, and generally from necessity, or as a punishment for misconduct. The South-West has been settled in great part by farmers from the older slave States, removing to them with their negroes. The breaking up of families of whites and ofblacks keeps equal pace. But we have no law of impressment in the South to sever the family ties of either blacks or whites. Nor have we any slavery half so cruel as that to which the impressed English seaman is subjected. The soldiers torn from their wives and children, to suffer and to perish in every clime and on every sea, excite not the sympathies of the Reviewer; they are all reserved for imaginary cases of distress, occasioned by the breaking up of families of Southern negroes. The so-called slave trade of the South is no evil, because the instances of the improper severing of family ties are rare. Will some Yankee or Englishman, ere the charge is repeated that slaves are bred to be sold like horses, when they are old enough for market, point out a single instance in the present, or the past, of a Southerner's pursuing such a business? Yankees and Englishmen kill their wives annually, yet it has not occurred to Englishmen at all, and not to the Yankee till very lately, to abolish the marriage relation. When Englishmen correct the thousand real and pressing evils in their society, it will be time enough to call on us to do away with the imaginary abuses of slavery. These remarks have been elicited from us by an article on Southern slavery, in the April number of the Edinburgh Review, which is equally distinguished for the falsity of its charges and the ill nature of its comments. As a full justification for the indefinitecontinuance of negro slavery, we give below an extract from an able article from the same Review, in its January number, 1846, entitled "Legislation for the working classes." In showing the many evils arising from emancipating the whites, the Reviewer demonstrates, though not intending it, the absurdity of emancipating negroes. If Irishmen, who are as intellectual a race of men as any in all Europe, have lost infinitely in physical comfort, and gained nothing in morals or in mind by liberty, what will it avail negroes? Let Hayti and Jamaica answer. But Frenchmen, Scotchmen and Englishmen, we mean the masses, the proletariat, have lost as much by emancipation as Irishmen. History and statistics, the jails, the gallows, and the poor-house tell the same sad tale everywhere. We would be willing, if necessary, to rest the complete justification of negro slavery on this single extract:

The moral and domestic feelings of the slave are sacrificed, and his intellect is stunted; but in respect of his physical condition he may be a gainer. "It is necessary," says Aristotle, in his celebrated justification of slavery, "that those who cannot exist separately should live together. he who is capable of foreseeing by his intellect, is naturally a master; he who is able to execute with his body what another contrives, is naturally a slave: wherefore the interest of the master and slave is one." There is a certain degree of force in this argument, if itis limited to the economical relations of the two parties. It is the interest of the master to maintain his slave in good working order. In general, therefore, he is comparatively well fed, clothed and lodged; his physical wants are provided for; his food descends into his mouth like the manna in the wilderness; he is clothed like the lilies of the field; he has no thought or care for the morrow. Although complaints were made of insufficient food and overwork, the arguments against negro slavery in our West India colonies were founded, mainly, on the necessity of constant punishment—on thedriving system, as it was called—and the cruelty of the inflictions. The Report of the French Commission, framed by the Due de Broglie, which recommended the gradual abolition of slavery, likewise bears testimony to the excellent physical condition of the slaves in the French colonies. It is on account of the advantages which may belong to dependence upon a wealthy lord, as compared with a needy independence, that the slave in Menander exclaims, that "it is better to obtain a good master, than to live meanly and wretchedly as a freeman." So the Rhetorician Libanus, who lived in the fourth century, in a declamation entitled aVituperation of Poverty, after having enumerated the privations and sufferings which fall to the lot of the poor freeman, proceeds thus:—"None of these evils belong to slavery. The slave sleeps at his ease, being fed by the cares of his master, and supplied with all the other things needful for his body. But the poor freeman is constantly awake, seeking the means of subsistence, and subjected to the severe dominion of want which compels him to hunger." The well-informed author ofHaji Babadescribes the astonishment of the vizier of the Shah of Persia, on hearing from the British ambassador that there is no slavery in England, and that the king is using his influence to put it down in other States. "Indeed!" said the vizier, "you surely cannot be so cruel! What would become of the poor slaves if they were free? Nothing can be happier than the lot of ours; but if they were abandoned to their fate, they would starve and die. They are our children, and form a part of our family."A similar feeling is described by Mr. Kohl as existing among the serfs in the Baltic provinces of Russia, with respect to their recent emancipation. The serf is now no longerabscriptus glebæ; but it is not difficult for his lord to find the means of detaining him on the estate if he wishes so to do. Mr. Kohl continue thus:—"Though the right which the peasant has thus obtained is so frequently useless to him, the counter right of his master, of banishing him from his native place, is very often turned against him. Formerly, a noble could not, by any means, get rid of his serfs; and, whenever they were in want, he was forced to support and maintain them. At present, the moment a peasant becomes useless and burdensome, it is easy to dismiss him; on account of which the serfs, in some parts of the provinces, would not accept of the emancipation offered, and bitterly lamented the freedom, as it was called, which was forced upon them. The serf often mournfully complains that he has lost a father and kept a master, and his lord now often refuses the little requests of his peasants, saying, 'You know you are not my children now.'" A similar state offeeling is likewise reported to exist among the serfs of Russia Proper, who, in many cases, prefer the certainty of slavery to the risks of emancipation. Mr. Featherstonhaugh, in hisTravelsin the Slave States of North America, relates that Mr. Madison, the ex-President, informed him that he had once assembled all his numerous slaves, and offered to manumit them immediately; "but they instantly declined it, alleging that they had been born on his estate, had always been provided for by him with raiment and food, in sickness and in health, and, if they were made free, they would have no home to go to, and no friend to protect and care for them. They preferred, therefore, to live and die as his slaves, who had always been a kind master to them."Slavery excludes the principle of competition, which reduces the wages of the free laborer, increases his hours of work, and sometimes deprives him of all means of subsistence. The maintenance of slaves as one household, orfamilia, likewise conduces to thrift; their supply on a large scale is, or ought to be, less expensive than when each laborer, as in a state of freedom, has a separate cottage and a family of his own. With slaves thus supported, there is no more waste than with horses or cattle. There is none of the loss or damage which arises from the drunkenness and improvidence of the free laborer expending his own wages. Again, the slave-master can regulate the number of his workmen, and can in this manner control the amount of population. The means may doubtless be harsh and cruel, but they are effective for their end. In general, indeed, slave classes show a disposition to diminish rather than increase in number;and, where the slave trade has not been prohibited, the number is kept up rather by new importation than by births. Hence the evils of an abundant population never manifested themselves while the mass of the people was in a servile and semi-servile state. Moreover, it can scarcely be doubted, that under certain circumstances industry may be promoted, and the produce of the land increased, by the existence of a slave class. Mr. M'Culloch, indeed, thinks that the tropical countries can never be effectually cultivated by free labor. "Were the slaves completely emancipated in the United States, Cuba, and Brazil," says he, "it is all but certain that the culture of sugar and cotton would be as completely abandoned in them as in Hayti. And if the change were accompanied by a considerable improvement in the condition of the black population, the sacrifice might not, perhaps, be deemed too great. But where is the ground for supposing that such would be the case? Indeed, the fair presumption seems to be the other way. Little, at all events, would be gained by turning a laborious, well-fed slave, into an idle, improvident, and perhaps beggarly freeman." If we look merely to the present, and confine our views toeconomicalresults, Mr. M'Culloch's arguments certainly appear strong. And although it is true that all hope offutureimprovement, in respect of his physical condition, is denied to the slave, yet it must be admitted, that practically, and looking to the actual generation, the absence of a power of rising in the world is no severe privation to a peasant class. Neither in England among the agricultural laborers, nor in the Continental States among the small proprietors, are there many instances ofa person quitting the condition in which he is born. Nor is any slavery so indellible (where the slaves have the same colored skin as their masters) as to prevent frequent emancipations of individual slaves from personal affection and other causes. The freedmen formed a numerous class among the Romans; and it is known to what important posts slaves have risen in the Turkish empire.After these remarks, (the intention of which cannot be misunderstood by any reader of this Journal,) we can better estimate the effects of the change from slavery to personal freedom, upon the emancipated slave. He is relieved from the liabilities and burdens, but he at the same time forfeits the advantages of slavery. While the slave is exonerated from his legal obligations to his master, the master is exonerated from his legal and moral obligations towards his slave, and his interest in the conservation and protection of his slave is at an end. The slave (to use the common phrase) becomes his own master. With the acquisition of this power, he incurs the obligations of self-support. He becomes independent; and, being so, he must provide for his self-defence. Self-dominion is not an unmixed good to the work. It imports onerous duties. It implies the necessity of providing for a man's own wants, and those of his family. The freedman is no longer forced, by the fear of corporal punishment, to do a prescribed task of work. But he must work in order to earn wages; and, what is more, he must find work for himself. He is no longer incapable of acquiring property, or of reaping the fruits of his own industry. But he is, in consideration of this power, bound to provide for his own support. He is no longer incapable of contracting a lawful marriage, or begetting free legitimate children. But he is bound to maintain his wife and children by his own exertions; and if he deserts them, or allows them to starve, he is subject to legal punishment. He is no longer fed and maintained merely according to his physical wants, without reference to the value of his services; but, on the other hand, he is delivered over to the unchecked operation of the principle of competition; and he must content himself with the scanty pittance which the rivalry of the labor market may assign him. He is no longer treated as a mere animal or implement of production, without feeling, mind, or moral character; he does not follow the religion of his master, and he may voluntarily choose his own creed. But, in becoming a free moral agent, he accepts the responsibilities of that condition; his path is open to virtue, but he is answerable for his acts and their consequences if he deviates into other ways; he can, by foresight, determine his own lot, but he must, in compensation, suffer the penalties of his own improvidence.When we contemplate the actual results of the change in question, and compare the state of the working classes in countries where they are free, with the state of a slave class, we find that the only benefits of freedom, which have been fully enjoyed by the laboring classes, are thenegativeones, (such as exemption from bodily inflictions, and other ill treatment;) but that thepositivebenefits which they have hitherto derived from the social independence, have been less prominent. Thepositivebenefits—which are economical and domestic—which consist in the acquisition, enjoyment and transmission of wealth,and in the development of the family affections—are more remote, and depend on numerous preliminary conditions which hitherto have rarely co-existed in any community. The entire harvest of the change will not be reaped until civilization has made further progress—until the providence, industry, intelligence, and peaceableness of the working man are such as to render him altogether fit for self-support, and to protect society against the shocks arising from his delusions and violence.But, in proportion as the positive advantages are distant, the disadvantages of the change make themselves sensibly felt. As soon as slavery has ceased to exist, the freedom of action for the working classes is complete; they are masters of their own conduct, and their conduct determines the condition of the great mass of the community. If, then, their moral state is low, and they are exempt from all legal compulsion, they are likely to make a bad use of their liberty. Whenever the moral restraints are weak, and the rights of the freeman are exercised without limitation, and with an inward consciousness of power, political or social dangers cannot be far off. A slave-class, emancipated at once, affords the strongest example of the evils arising under this influence. Their moral condition is, at the best, like that of children; they have had no experience of self-management; and the rights of freedom are, from their novelty, prized most highly. Some countries, however, from which slavery has long been banished, exhibit a nearly similar state of things. Thus, in Ireland, the freedom of the working classes has produced the smallest amount of positive advantages, combined with the largest amount ofdisadvantages. The peasantry are in the lowest physical degradation; they derive the smallest possible quantum of happiness from their power of disposing of themselves and their families, and of acquiring property; while their rights of citizenship are too frequently perverted to purposes detrimental to themselves, and dangerous to the public peace.When the slavery of the working classes had been gradually extinguished in Western Europe, it began to be seen that the theory of personal freedom could not be carried consistently into practical effect for the entire community. A man might, in the eye of the law, be presumed able and bound to maintain himself and his family: but want of industry, or intelligence, or providence, or the rapine of the strong, might reduce him to destitution and helplessness. Accordingly, unless many of the laboring class were to be permitted to die of hunger and neglect, it was necessary to find some means of alleviating their sufferings.

A similar feeling is described by Mr. Kohl as existing among the serfs in the Baltic provinces of Russia, with respect to their recent emancipation. The serf is now no longerabscriptus glebæ; but it is not difficult for his lord to find the means of detaining him on the estate if he wishes so to do. Mr. Kohl continue thus:—"Though the right which the peasant has thus obtained is so frequently useless to him, the counter right of his master, of banishing him from his native place, is very often turned against him. Formerly, a noble could not, by any means, get rid of his serfs; and, whenever they were in want, he was forced to support and maintain them. At present, the moment a peasant becomes useless and burdensome, it is easy to dismiss him; on account of which the serfs, in some parts of the provinces, would not accept of the emancipation offered, and bitterly lamented the freedom, as it was called, which was forced upon them. The serf often mournfully complains that he has lost a father and kept a master, and his lord now often refuses the little requests of his peasants, saying, 'You know you are not my children now.'" A similar state offeeling is likewise reported to exist among the serfs of Russia Proper, who, in many cases, prefer the certainty of slavery to the risks of emancipation. Mr. Featherstonhaugh, in hisTravelsin the Slave States of North America, relates that Mr. Madison, the ex-President, informed him that he had once assembled all his numerous slaves, and offered to manumit them immediately; "but they instantly declined it, alleging that they had been born on his estate, had always been provided for by him with raiment and food, in sickness and in health, and, if they were made free, they would have no home to go to, and no friend to protect and care for them. They preferred, therefore, to live and die as his slaves, who had always been a kind master to them."

Slavery excludes the principle of competition, which reduces the wages of the free laborer, increases his hours of work, and sometimes deprives him of all means of subsistence. The maintenance of slaves as one household, orfamilia, likewise conduces to thrift; their supply on a large scale is, or ought to be, less expensive than when each laborer, as in a state of freedom, has a separate cottage and a family of his own. With slaves thus supported, there is no more waste than with horses or cattle. There is none of the loss or damage which arises from the drunkenness and improvidence of the free laborer expending his own wages. Again, the slave-master can regulate the number of his workmen, and can in this manner control the amount of population. The means may doubtless be harsh and cruel, but they are effective for their end. In general, indeed, slave classes show a disposition to diminish rather than increase in number;and, where the slave trade has not been prohibited, the number is kept up rather by new importation than by births. Hence the evils of an abundant population never manifested themselves while the mass of the people was in a servile and semi-servile state. Moreover, it can scarcely be doubted, that under certain circumstances industry may be promoted, and the produce of the land increased, by the existence of a slave class. Mr. M'Culloch, indeed, thinks that the tropical countries can never be effectually cultivated by free labor. "Were the slaves completely emancipated in the United States, Cuba, and Brazil," says he, "it is all but certain that the culture of sugar and cotton would be as completely abandoned in them as in Hayti. And if the change were accompanied by a considerable improvement in the condition of the black population, the sacrifice might not, perhaps, be deemed too great. But where is the ground for supposing that such would be the case? Indeed, the fair presumption seems to be the other way. Little, at all events, would be gained by turning a laborious, well-fed slave, into an idle, improvident, and perhaps beggarly freeman." If we look merely to the present, and confine our views toeconomicalresults, Mr. M'Culloch's arguments certainly appear strong. And although it is true that all hope offutureimprovement, in respect of his physical condition, is denied to the slave, yet it must be admitted, that practically, and looking to the actual generation, the absence of a power of rising in the world is no severe privation to a peasant class. Neither in England among the agricultural laborers, nor in the Continental States among the small proprietors, are there many instances ofa person quitting the condition in which he is born. Nor is any slavery so indellible (where the slaves have the same colored skin as their masters) as to prevent frequent emancipations of individual slaves from personal affection and other causes. The freedmen formed a numerous class among the Romans; and it is known to what important posts slaves have risen in the Turkish empire.

After these remarks, (the intention of which cannot be misunderstood by any reader of this Journal,) we can better estimate the effects of the change from slavery to personal freedom, upon the emancipated slave. He is relieved from the liabilities and burdens, but he at the same time forfeits the advantages of slavery. While the slave is exonerated from his legal obligations to his master, the master is exonerated from his legal and moral obligations towards his slave, and his interest in the conservation and protection of his slave is at an end. The slave (to use the common phrase) becomes his own master. With the acquisition of this power, he incurs the obligations of self-support. He becomes independent; and, being so, he must provide for his self-defence. Self-dominion is not an unmixed good to the work. It imports onerous duties. It implies the necessity of providing for a man's own wants, and those of his family. The freedman is no longer forced, by the fear of corporal punishment, to do a prescribed task of work. But he must work in order to earn wages; and, what is more, he must find work for himself. He is no longer incapable of acquiring property, or of reaping the fruits of his own industry. But he is, in consideration of this power, bound to provide for his own support. He is no longer incapable of contracting a lawful marriage, or begetting free legitimate children. But he is bound to maintain his wife and children by his own exertions; and if he deserts them, or allows them to starve, he is subject to legal punishment. He is no longer fed and maintained merely according to his physical wants, without reference to the value of his services; but, on the other hand, he is delivered over to the unchecked operation of the principle of competition; and he must content himself with the scanty pittance which the rivalry of the labor market may assign him. He is no longer treated as a mere animal or implement of production, without feeling, mind, or moral character; he does not follow the religion of his master, and he may voluntarily choose his own creed. But, in becoming a free moral agent, he accepts the responsibilities of that condition; his path is open to virtue, but he is answerable for his acts and their consequences if he deviates into other ways; he can, by foresight, determine his own lot, but he must, in compensation, suffer the penalties of his own improvidence.

When we contemplate the actual results of the change in question, and compare the state of the working classes in countries where they are free, with the state of a slave class, we find that the only benefits of freedom, which have been fully enjoyed by the laboring classes, are thenegativeones, (such as exemption from bodily inflictions, and other ill treatment;) but that thepositivebenefits which they have hitherto derived from the social independence, have been less prominent. Thepositivebenefits—which are economical and domestic—which consist in the acquisition, enjoyment and transmission of wealth,and in the development of the family affections—are more remote, and depend on numerous preliminary conditions which hitherto have rarely co-existed in any community. The entire harvest of the change will not be reaped until civilization has made further progress—until the providence, industry, intelligence, and peaceableness of the working man are such as to render him altogether fit for self-support, and to protect society against the shocks arising from his delusions and violence.

But, in proportion as the positive advantages are distant, the disadvantages of the change make themselves sensibly felt. As soon as slavery has ceased to exist, the freedom of action for the working classes is complete; they are masters of their own conduct, and their conduct determines the condition of the great mass of the community. If, then, their moral state is low, and they are exempt from all legal compulsion, they are likely to make a bad use of their liberty. Whenever the moral restraints are weak, and the rights of the freeman are exercised without limitation, and with an inward consciousness of power, political or social dangers cannot be far off. A slave-class, emancipated at once, affords the strongest example of the evils arising under this influence. Their moral condition is, at the best, like that of children; they have had no experience of self-management; and the rights of freedom are, from their novelty, prized most highly. Some countries, however, from which slavery has long been banished, exhibit a nearly similar state of things. Thus, in Ireland, the freedom of the working classes has produced the smallest amount of positive advantages, combined with the largest amount ofdisadvantages. The peasantry are in the lowest physical degradation; they derive the smallest possible quantum of happiness from their power of disposing of themselves and their families, and of acquiring property; while their rights of citizenship are too frequently perverted to purposes detrimental to themselves, and dangerous to the public peace.

When the slavery of the working classes had been gradually extinguished in Western Europe, it began to be seen that the theory of personal freedom could not be carried consistently into practical effect for the entire community. A man might, in the eye of the law, be presumed able and bound to maintain himself and his family: but want of industry, or intelligence, or providence, or the rapine of the strong, might reduce him to destitution and helplessness. Accordingly, unless many of the laboring class were to be permitted to die of hunger and neglect, it was necessary to find some means of alleviating their sufferings.

In further reply to the Edinburgh Reviewer, and to illustrate by examples our theory of "Cannibals All; or, Slaves without Masters," read the following from the North British Review for November, 1855, on the Rural Population of England:

Have we not come upon a very paradise of rural seclusion? Is it not a spot to be chosen by those who are intending to while away existence among the never tiring sweets of a country life? But let us step on a little way,and overtake the group of children that is just now crossing the common. Alas! yet should we not refrain from expressing the sad feelings which the first sight of these infant shadows has awakened? feelings heightened by contrast; for lately we were making our way through a fourth class street, where the prime necessities of life are amply provided for. Besides, if we look a second time at these shrunken forms—such is the beneficence of the Creator—we see that childhood will have its smiles, its laughs, its gambols, under conditions even the most forlorn. Moreover, there is, notwithstanding that famished, watery look—there is, taking the group altogether—there is an air of pure rusticity—there is an innocence, comparatively, and a modest propriety—there is a respectfulness in their style and deportment which is greatly in their favor when thought of in comparison with the bold, unreverential sauciness of the infant Hercules of manufacturing towns.But look at these unfortunates—the infant serfs of a neglected rural district! Look at them physiologically—observe their lank, colorless hair, screening the sunken eye, and trailing upon the bony neck; look at the hollow cheeks, the candle-like arms, and the unmuscular shanks which serve the young urchins for legs! But are not these children breathing a pure atmosphere? Are they not Nature's own? Yes; but there is one thing wanting to them—one ominous word clears up the mystery. Starvation! Not, indeed, such starvation as brings the sorrows of a sad lot to a speedy end; but such as drags its pining sufferings out, through the overshadowed years of childhood and youth; through those spasmodic yearsof manhood during which the struggle to exist wears an aspect of rugged rigor; and then through that residue of early decrepitude, haggard, bent, idiot-like, which is indeed an unblessed end of an unblessed existence. This rural population does pretty well if the father be able-bodied and sober, and the mother managing, through the summer season, of wheat-hoeing, hay-making, and wheat harvest; that is to say, when the labor of the mother and her children comes in to swell a little the weekly wages. During these weeks something of needed clothing is obtained, rent is paid up, and a pittance of animal food, weekly, is added to the bread, and the tea, and the potato of the seven months' diet.It would be doing a wrong to our worthy farmer friends, and to the rural sporting gentry, to affirm that these miserables are actually dying of want. No, they are not dying, so as inquests must be held before they may be buried—would to God they were—they are the living—they are living to show what extremities men, women and children may endure, and yet not die; or what they hold to be worse, not to betake themselves to "the union!" But how do these same men, women and children pass five months of the year? Gladly would one find them curled round like hedgehogs, and hybernating in hollow trees; in rabbit burrows, lost to consciousness. We should, indeed, count it a miracle if, on a May morning, we were to see a group of human beings start up alive from the sward, along with the paiglus and the cowslips. But it is much less than a miracle to see the people of a depressed rural district stepping alive out of the winter months!The instances are extremely rare in which those who were born to the soil, and destined to the plow, rise above their native level. Such instances—two, three, or five—might be hunted up, if an agricultural county were ransacked for the purpose; but the agricultural laborer, even if he had the brain and the ambition requisite, and if otherwise he could effect it, would seldom bring with him that which the social mass, into which he might rise, especially needs, namely, a fully developed and robust body. Meantime, what is it that is taking place in hundreds of instances, and every day, throughout the entire area of the manufacturing region? Men, well put together, and with plenty of bone, and nerve, and brain, using with an intense ardor those opportunities of advancement which abound in these spheres of enterprise and of prosperous achievement—such men are found to be making themselves heard of among their betters, are seen well-dressed before they reconcile themselves to the wearing of gloves; by rapid advances they are winning for themselves a place in society—a place which, indeed, they well deserve; and there they are doing what they had not thought of—they are regenerating the mass within which they have been received.

But look at these unfortunates—the infant serfs of a neglected rural district! Look at them physiologically—observe their lank, colorless hair, screening the sunken eye, and trailing upon the bony neck; look at the hollow cheeks, the candle-like arms, and the unmuscular shanks which serve the young urchins for legs! But are not these children breathing a pure atmosphere? Are they not Nature's own? Yes; but there is one thing wanting to them—one ominous word clears up the mystery. Starvation! Not, indeed, such starvation as brings the sorrows of a sad lot to a speedy end; but such as drags its pining sufferings out, through the overshadowed years of childhood and youth; through those spasmodic yearsof manhood during which the struggle to exist wears an aspect of rugged rigor; and then through that residue of early decrepitude, haggard, bent, idiot-like, which is indeed an unblessed end of an unblessed existence. This rural population does pretty well if the father be able-bodied and sober, and the mother managing, through the summer season, of wheat-hoeing, hay-making, and wheat harvest; that is to say, when the labor of the mother and her children comes in to swell a little the weekly wages. During these weeks something of needed clothing is obtained, rent is paid up, and a pittance of animal food, weekly, is added to the bread, and the tea, and the potato of the seven months' diet.

It would be doing a wrong to our worthy farmer friends, and to the rural sporting gentry, to affirm that these miserables are actually dying of want. No, they are not dying, so as inquests must be held before they may be buried—would to God they were—they are the living—they are living to show what extremities men, women and children may endure, and yet not die; or what they hold to be worse, not to betake themselves to "the union!" But how do these same men, women and children pass five months of the year? Gladly would one find them curled round like hedgehogs, and hybernating in hollow trees; in rabbit burrows, lost to consciousness. We should, indeed, count it a miracle if, on a May morning, we were to see a group of human beings start up alive from the sward, along with the paiglus and the cowslips. But it is much less than a miracle to see the people of a depressed rural district stepping alive out of the winter months!

The instances are extremely rare in which those who were born to the soil, and destined to the plow, rise above their native level. Such instances—two, three, or five—might be hunted up, if an agricultural county were ransacked for the purpose; but the agricultural laborer, even if he had the brain and the ambition requisite, and if otherwise he could effect it, would seldom bring with him that which the social mass, into which he might rise, especially needs, namely, a fully developed and robust body. Meantime, what is it that is taking place in hundreds of instances, and every day, throughout the entire area of the manufacturing region? Men, well put together, and with plenty of bone, and nerve, and brain, using with an intense ardor those opportunities of advancement which abound in these spheres of enterprise and of prosperous achievement—such men are found to be making themselves heard of among their betters, are seen well-dressed before they reconcile themselves to the wearing of gloves; by rapid advances they are winning for themselves a place in society—a place which, indeed, they well deserve; and there they are doing what they had not thought of—they are regenerating the mass within which they have been received.

We extract the following from an article in the Edinburgh Review on Juvenile and Female Labor, in its January No., 1844. It is of the highest authority, being part of a report of commissioners appointed by Parliament, and stands endorsed as well by the action of Parliament as by the authority of the Reviewer:

Our limits will not allow us to go through all the employments reported upon in these volumes; but, as specimens, we will give a short account of the condition of the people engaged in Coal mines, Calico-printing, Metal wares, Lace-making, and Millinery.Coal Mines.—The number of children and young persons employed in these mines is enormous; and they appear to commence working, even underground, at an earlier age than is recorded of any other occupation except lace-making. The Commissioners report—"That instances occur in which children are taken into these mines to work as early asfouryears of age, sometimes at five, not unfrequently between six and seven, and often from seven to eight, while from eight to nine is the ordinary age at which their employment commences.... That a very large proportion of the persons employed in these mines is under thirteen years of age; and a still larger proportion between thirteen and eighteen. That in several districts female children begin to work in the mines as early as males."That the nature of the employment which is assigned to the youngest children, generally that of 'trapping,' requires that they should be in the pit as soon as the work of the day commences, and, according to the present system, that they should not leave the pit before the work of the day is at an end."That although this employment scarcely deserves the name of labor, yet, as the children engaged in it are commonly excluded from light, and are always without companions, it would, were it not for the passing and re-passing of the coal carriages, amount to solitary confinement of the worst order."That in some districts they remain in solitude and darkness during the whole time they are in the pit, and, according to their own account, many of them never seethe light of day for weeks together during the greater part of the winter season, excepting on those days in the week when work is not going on, and on the Sundays."That at different ages, from six years old and upwards, the hard work of pushing and dragging the carriages of coal from the workings to the main ways or to the foot of the shaft, begins: a labor which all classes of witnesses concur in stating, requires the unremitting exertion of all the physical power which the young workers possess."That, in the districts in which females are taken down into the coal mines, both sexes are employed together in precisely the same kind of labor, and work for the same number of hours; that the girls and boys, and the young men and the young women, and even married women and women with child, commonly work almost naked, and the men, in many mines, quite naked; and that all classes of witnesses bear testimony to the demoralizing influence of the employment of females underground.[32]"That, in the east of Scotland, a much larger proportion of children and young persons are employed in these mines than in other districts, many of whom are girls; and that the chief part of their labor consists in carrying the coals on their backs up steep ladders."That when the work-people are in full employment, the regular hours of work for children and young persons are rarely less than eleven; more often they aretwelve; in some districts they arethirteen; and in one district they are generallyfourteenand upwards."That, in the great majority of these mines night-work is a part of the ordinary system of labor, more or less regularly carried on according to the demand for coals,and one which the whole body of evidence shows to act most injuriously both on the physical and moral condition of the work-people, and more especially on that of the children and young persons."That in many cases the children and young persons have little cause of complaint in regard to the treatment they receive, while in many mines the conduct of the adult colliers to them is harsh and cruel; the persons in authority who must be cognizant of this ill usage never interfering to prevent it, and some of them distinctly stating that they do not conceive they have a right to do so. That with some exceptions little interest is taken by the coal-owners in the children employed in their works after the daily labor is over.... That in all the coalfields accidents of a fearful nature are extremely frequent, and of the work-people who perish by such accidents, the proportion of children and young persons sometimes equals, and rarely falls much below that of adults."—(First Report, p. 255-7.)With respect to the general healthiness of the employment, there is considerable discrepancy in the evidence adduced; many witnesses stating that the colliers generally, especially the adults, are a remarkably healthy race, showing a very small average of sickness,[33]and recovering with unusual rapidity from the severest accidents;—a peculiarity which the medical men reasonably enough attribute to the uniform temperature of the mines, and still more to the abundance of nutritious food which the high wages of the work-people enable them to procure. The great majority of the witnesses, however, give a very different impression. Upwards of two hundred, whose testimony is quoted, or referred to in the Report of theCentral Commissioners, testify to the extreme fatigue of the children when they return home at night, and to the injurious effect which this ultimately produces on their constitution.While the effect of such early and severe labor is, to cause a peculiar and extraordinary degree of muscular development in collier children, it also stunts their growth, and produces a proportionate diminution of stature, as is shown by the following comparison.—(Physical and Moral Condition of Children, p. 55.)

Coal Mines.—The number of children and young persons employed in these mines is enormous; and they appear to commence working, even underground, at an earlier age than is recorded of any other occupation except lace-making. The Commissioners report—

"That instances occur in which children are taken into these mines to work as early asfouryears of age, sometimes at five, not unfrequently between six and seven, and often from seven to eight, while from eight to nine is the ordinary age at which their employment commences.... That a very large proportion of the persons employed in these mines is under thirteen years of age; and a still larger proportion between thirteen and eighteen. That in several districts female children begin to work in the mines as early as males."That the nature of the employment which is assigned to the youngest children, generally that of 'trapping,' requires that they should be in the pit as soon as the work of the day commences, and, according to the present system, that they should not leave the pit before the work of the day is at an end."That although this employment scarcely deserves the name of labor, yet, as the children engaged in it are commonly excluded from light, and are always without companions, it would, were it not for the passing and re-passing of the coal carriages, amount to solitary confinement of the worst order."That in some districts they remain in solitude and darkness during the whole time they are in the pit, and, according to their own account, many of them never seethe light of day for weeks together during the greater part of the winter season, excepting on those days in the week when work is not going on, and on the Sundays."That at different ages, from six years old and upwards, the hard work of pushing and dragging the carriages of coal from the workings to the main ways or to the foot of the shaft, begins: a labor which all classes of witnesses concur in stating, requires the unremitting exertion of all the physical power which the young workers possess."That, in the districts in which females are taken down into the coal mines, both sexes are employed together in precisely the same kind of labor, and work for the same number of hours; that the girls and boys, and the young men and the young women, and even married women and women with child, commonly work almost naked, and the men, in many mines, quite naked; and that all classes of witnesses bear testimony to the demoralizing influence of the employment of females underground.[32]"That, in the east of Scotland, a much larger proportion of children and young persons are employed in these mines than in other districts, many of whom are girls; and that the chief part of their labor consists in carrying the coals on their backs up steep ladders."That when the work-people are in full employment, the regular hours of work for children and young persons are rarely less than eleven; more often they aretwelve; in some districts they arethirteen; and in one district they are generallyfourteenand upwards."That, in the great majority of these mines night-work is a part of the ordinary system of labor, more or less regularly carried on according to the demand for coals,and one which the whole body of evidence shows to act most injuriously both on the physical and moral condition of the work-people, and more especially on that of the children and young persons."That in many cases the children and young persons have little cause of complaint in regard to the treatment they receive, while in many mines the conduct of the adult colliers to them is harsh and cruel; the persons in authority who must be cognizant of this ill usage never interfering to prevent it, and some of them distinctly stating that they do not conceive they have a right to do so. That with some exceptions little interest is taken by the coal-owners in the children employed in their works after the daily labor is over.... That in all the coalfields accidents of a fearful nature are extremely frequent, and of the work-people who perish by such accidents, the proportion of children and young persons sometimes equals, and rarely falls much below that of adults."—(First Report, p. 255-7.)

"That the nature of the employment which is assigned to the youngest children, generally that of 'trapping,' requires that they should be in the pit as soon as the work of the day commences, and, according to the present system, that they should not leave the pit before the work of the day is at an end.

"That although this employment scarcely deserves the name of labor, yet, as the children engaged in it are commonly excluded from light, and are always without companions, it would, were it not for the passing and re-passing of the coal carriages, amount to solitary confinement of the worst order.

"That in some districts they remain in solitude and darkness during the whole time they are in the pit, and, according to their own account, many of them never seethe light of day for weeks together during the greater part of the winter season, excepting on those days in the week when work is not going on, and on the Sundays.

"That at different ages, from six years old and upwards, the hard work of pushing and dragging the carriages of coal from the workings to the main ways or to the foot of the shaft, begins: a labor which all classes of witnesses concur in stating, requires the unremitting exertion of all the physical power which the young workers possess.

"That, in the districts in which females are taken down into the coal mines, both sexes are employed together in precisely the same kind of labor, and work for the same number of hours; that the girls and boys, and the young men and the young women, and even married women and women with child, commonly work almost naked, and the men, in many mines, quite naked; and that all classes of witnesses bear testimony to the demoralizing influence of the employment of females underground.[32]

"That, in the east of Scotland, a much larger proportion of children and young persons are employed in these mines than in other districts, many of whom are girls; and that the chief part of their labor consists in carrying the coals on their backs up steep ladders.

"That when the work-people are in full employment, the regular hours of work for children and young persons are rarely less than eleven; more often they aretwelve; in some districts they arethirteen; and in one district they are generallyfourteenand upwards.

"That, in the great majority of these mines night-work is a part of the ordinary system of labor, more or less regularly carried on according to the demand for coals,and one which the whole body of evidence shows to act most injuriously both on the physical and moral condition of the work-people, and more especially on that of the children and young persons.

"That in many cases the children and young persons have little cause of complaint in regard to the treatment they receive, while in many mines the conduct of the adult colliers to them is harsh and cruel; the persons in authority who must be cognizant of this ill usage never interfering to prevent it, and some of them distinctly stating that they do not conceive they have a right to do so. That with some exceptions little interest is taken by the coal-owners in the children employed in their works after the daily labor is over.... That in all the coalfields accidents of a fearful nature are extremely frequent, and of the work-people who perish by such accidents, the proportion of children and young persons sometimes equals, and rarely falls much below that of adults."—(First Report, p. 255-7.)

With respect to the general healthiness of the employment, there is considerable discrepancy in the evidence adduced; many witnesses stating that the colliers generally, especially the adults, are a remarkably healthy race, showing a very small average of sickness,[33]and recovering with unusual rapidity from the severest accidents;—a peculiarity which the medical men reasonably enough attribute to the uniform temperature of the mines, and still more to the abundance of nutritious food which the high wages of the work-people enable them to procure. The great majority of the witnesses, however, give a very different impression. Upwards of two hundred, whose testimony is quoted, or referred to in the Report of theCentral Commissioners, testify to the extreme fatigue of the children when they return home at night, and to the injurious effect which this ultimately produces on their constitution.

While the effect of such early and severe labor is, to cause a peculiar and extraordinary degree of muscular development in collier children, it also stunts their growth, and produces a proportionate diminution of stature, as is shown by the following comparison.—(Physical and Moral Condition of Children, p. 55.)

10 Farmers' boys, between 12 and 14 years, measured, each,56.4inchesin height.10 Colliers' boys,53.4""——Difference,3.""10 Farmers' girls, between 14 and 17 years, measured, each,60.5inchesin height.10 Colliers' girls,55.6""——Difference,4.9""51 Farmers' children, 10 years old, measured, each,51.""60 Colliers' children,48.""——Difference,3.""49 Farmers' children, 15½ years old, measured, each,59.""50 Colliers' children,53.""——Difference,6.""[34]

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