Roland Graeme: Knight. A Novel of Our Time

by Agnes Maule Machar

"Now, then," he said, [1]"compare this 'interior,' with what we see to-day in the home of the average manufacturer, the beauty and luxury, the thousand costly superfluities;—and would any one say that the condition of the laborer had improved in anything like the same ratio? It might even be gravely questioned, in many cases, whether it had improved absolutely. For, although there were many additional comforts within the reach of all but the poorest, still, the unhealthy conditions of life resulting from massing families together, in close and unwholesome houses, more than neutralized the advantages. But if any one wanted to know more of the actual state of things in this free and independent America, let him read in Henry George's 'Social Problems,' certain statements by commissioners of labor statistics. Let him read of the intelligent workingmen of Illinois, that 'the one half are not even able to earn enough for their daily bread, and have to depend upon the labor of women and children to eke out their miserable existence.' Let him read that, in cultured Massachusetts, the earnings of adult laborers are generally less than the cost of living; that—in the majority of cases—workingmen do not support their families on their individual earnings alone, and that fathers are forced to depend upon their children for from one-quarter to one-third of the family earnings—children under fifteen supplying from one-eighth to one-sixth of the whole earnings. Was it any wonder if such children died prematurely, worn out by unnatural labor?" and here he quoted, with telling effect, Carlyle's famous description of the sad fate of the murdered little Dauphin of France, ending with the strong, touching words—"as only poor factory children, and the like, are wont to perish, and not be lamented!" And, to quote Henry George again, let them think of "the thousands who swelter all summer in swarming tenement houses and dirty streets teeming with squalid life! Draggled women will be striving to soothe pining babies, sobbing and wailing away their little lives for the want of wholesome nourishment and fresh air; and degradation and misery that hide through the winter will be seen on every hand." It was pictures like these, he said, that brought home the facts of the case, whether the position of the workers was better or worse. Even Minton, he doubted not, could supply them with some such scenes.

At this point Mr. Wharton took his note-book and pencilled an entry.

"Wharton's getting ready for a reply!" whispered Mr. Archer. "He thinks he's got a point for his answer." But Nora scarcely heard him, so riveted was she in painful interest on the lecturer's words. He went on to another point.

"He knew," he said, "that the laborer was said to be extravagant. Doubtless neither laborers nor their wives were always economical, judged by the standard of the New England housewife. But that required special training—ages of training—and what chance had they to acquire it? But, after all, what opportunity had the laborer to be extravagant, when the price of the day's work would hardly pay the day's board and lodging in a comfortable house in our cities? Do the factory operatives in most countries live extravagantly, or the seamstresses in London or New York? Yet they earn three, four or five times more products than they actually consume, and these go into the possession of the class of persons who live comfortably or luxuriously, without performing much, if any, productive labor, or advancing the moral and intellectual well-being of society. Might not the laborer, on his side, in such circumstances, say that his earnings are swallowed up by the extravagance of employers?"

He next touched the question of "over-production." "There were periods," he said, "when one house is filled with families, one to each room, from cellar to garret, and the adjoining house stands empty for want of tenants able to pay the rent. Goods are piled up in store without sale, while great numbers of the laboring community are ragged, and are begging from door to door for old clothes to shield themselves and their families from the piercing cold; and for the crumbs that fall from the tables of the rich, to keep them from starving! Was such a state of things really the result of over-production? If this be indeed the case, public measures should be taken to avert such disasters by preventing the excess of labor. Is it not strange that, at the time when the amount of surplus production is the subject of national lamentation, the people who produce by their labor the very things which they need for their own use and comfort, are the ones that are often destitute of them, while a few capitalists who do little or nothing toward the production or distribution, are supplied with all the comforts and luxuries of life, at half or less than half their usual price? But a surplus of cotton has never remained because no one needed it! The evil," he went on to say, "does not arise from over-production, but from under-consumption by the great masses, the natural result of the unequal, and, I would add, frequently unjust distribution of wealth, keeping, from the toiling multitudes, what they needed for health and comfort, while the wealthy minority could not possibly use their surplus for their own needs. And so the underpayment of Labor reacted on the profits of Capital." He would not, he said, dwell on the other causes that aggravated the discomforts of the workingman's lot—the unduly long hours of toil that wore him out prematurely, and made him almost a stranger to his children, the long and close confinement of the week; what wonder if, exhausted and weary, he kept out of their churches on the one day of rest! Would not most of his hearers, in similar circumstances, do the same?

Mr. Chillingworth, who had been listening attentively, began to pull his long dark beard thoughtfully, a habit of his, when thinking about a perplexing subject.

"But now," the lecturer said, "having explained the evils, I am going to turn to a possible remedy. Would it not add, should it not add to the happiness of every one," he asked, "if we could secure the removal of the grinding poverty and wretchedness, that was not caused by pure misfortune or misconduct? The residuum would be very easily grappled with. If," as he fully believed, "the produce of labor constitutes the natural recompense of labor, why then do not laborers get all they are justly entitled to receive? The laboring classes make their own bargains with capitalists, and one another, and all are equally protected in the property which they lawfully acquire. Undoubtedly, both parties are governed by their own interests, in making their agreements; but the circumstances under which contracts are made often render them very unjust toward laborers. Suppose one of the contracting parties to be in deep water, where he must drown, unless he receive assistance from the other party who is on the land. Although the drowning man might be well aware that his friend on the shore was practising a very grievous extortion, yet, under the circumstances, he would be glad to make any possible agreement to be rescued."

Now, as governments are established to protect the just rights of the governed, he believed that legislation was needed to regulate both the minimum of wages and the maximum of hours. He had faith enough to believe in the ultimate triumph of righteous principles of action, and in the future general fulfilment of the command to every man to "love his neighbor as himself." But, in the meantime, we need legislation in many ways, to protect society from the injustice of those who love their neighbor not at all; and he believed such legislation was needed in this direction, otherwise the selfish and unscrupulous employer would frequently crowd out the humane and just one. Railway companies and joint-stock companies especially require regulation, since corporations, as we all know, have no souls! He thought that joint-stock companies should be prohibited from contracting liabilities beyond their actual capital, since the power of doing so immensely exaggerated their already too great advantages. He believed that the government should, by all possible precautions, preserve unappropriated land for the use of the community, as opposed to selfish schemes of individual aggrandizement. And he was glad that the Knights of Labor took the attitude of opposition to all further grants of land for speculative purposes.

In conclusion, the lecturer hoped that the Knights of Labor would be true to the principles laid down by their public spirited founder. He trusted that they would maintain an unselfish policy. They were committed by their constitution to demand for women equal wages for equal work, and that was well. But they must be generous to unorganized labor also. Their cause must be the cause of labor as a whole. If they were to discriminate selfishly between the organized men and the unorganized, to try to crowd out the tramp or even the criminal who needs the remedial influences of work, they would simply be repeating and perpetuating the injustice against which they desired to protect themselves. Mercy, as well as justice, must be their watchword. For, "there is no justice without mercy, it is just to be merciful!". In such a combination they would find their true policy, their true success. The lecture closed with a peroration similar to Roland's quotation, describing the ideal possibilities of a state of society in which justice and mercy should prevail, and, in the words of the old Hebrew poet, "Righteousness and Peace should kiss each other."

The charm of the lecturer's voice and manner, combined with his clear presentation of his subject, had held the close attention of almost the whole audience, with a few such exceptions as Kitty Farrell chiefly occupied in watching her friend Waldberg, who as usual came in late, and whose services were not, this time, called into requisition. Neither did he approach Kitty after the lecture, leaving her to the sole attendance of Harold Pomeroy.