CHAPTER XX THE FUTURE OF THE MAN FARTHEST DOWN
Upon my arrival in London I found myself, at the end of my journey, once more at my point of departure. A few days later, October 9th, to be precise, I sailed from Liverpool for New York. I had been less than seven weeks in Europe, but it seemed to me that I had been away for a year. My head was full of strange and confused impressions and I was reminded of the words of the traveller who, after he had crossed Europe from London to Naples, and had visited faithfully all the museums and neglected none of the regular "sights," wrote to friends he had visited in Europe a letter full of appreciation, concluding with the remark: "Well, I have seen a great deal and learned a great deal, and I thank God it is all over."
It occurs to me that the readers who have followed me thus far in my narrative may find themselves at the conclusion of this book in somewhat the same situation as myself at the end of my journey. In that case it will, perhaps, not be out of place to take advantage of this concluding chapter to do for them as well as I am able what I tried to do for myself during my hours of leisure on the voyage home—namely, make a little clearer the relation of all that I had seen and learned to the problem of the Negro and The Man Farthest Down.
I have touched, in the course of these chapters, upon many phases of life. I have had something to say, for example, in regard to the poverty, education, Socialism, and the race problems of Europe, since all these different matters are connected in one way or another with the subject and purpose of my journey and this book.
In attempting to add the moral to my story, however, and state in general terms the upshot of it all, I find myself at a disadvantage. I can, perhaps, best explain what I mean by recalling the fact that I was born a slave and since I became free have been so busy with the task immediately in front of me that I have never had time to think out my experiences and formulate my ideas in general terms. In fact, almost all that I know about the problems of other races and other peoples I have learned in seeking a solution and a way out for my own people. For that reason I should have done better perhaps to leave to some one with more learning and more leisure than I happen to possess the task of writing about the Underman in Europe. In fact I would have done so if I had not believed that in making this journey I should gain some insight and, perhaps, be able to throw some new light upon the situation of my own people in America. Indeed, I confess that I should never have taken the time—brief as it was—to make this long journey if I had not believed it was going to have some direct relation to the work which I have been trying to do for the people of my race in America.
In this, let me add, I was not disappointed. As a matter of fact, if there was one thing more than another, in all my European experiences, which was impressed upon my mind, it was the fact that the position of the Negro in America, both in slavery and in freedom, has not been so exceptional as it has frequently seemed. While there are wide differences between the situation of the people in the lower levels of life in Europe and the Negro in America, there are still many points of resemblance, and the truth is that the man farthest down in Europe has much in common with the man at the bottom in America.
For example, the people at the bottom in Europe have been, in most cases, for the greater part of their history at least, like the Negroes in America, a subject people, not slaves, but bondmen or serfs, at any rate a disadvantaged people.
In most cases the different under-classes in Europe only gained their freedom in the course of the last century. Since that time they have been engaged in an almost ceaseless struggle to obtain for themselves the political privileges that formerly belonged to the upper classes alone.
Even in those places where the man at the bottom has gained political privileges resembling in most respects those of the classes at the top he finds, as the Negro in America has found, that he has only made a beginning, and the real work of emancipation remains to be done. The English labourer, for example, has had political freedom for a longer period of time than is true of any other representative of this class in Europe. Notwithstanding this fact, as things are, he can only in rare instances buy and own the land on which he lives. The labouring people of England live, for the most part, herded together with millions of others of their class in the slums of great cities, where air and water are luxuries. They are dependent upon some other nation for their food supplies, for butter, bread, and meat. And then, as a further consequence of the way they are compelled to live, the masses of the people find themselves part of an economic arrangement or system which is so vast and complicated that they can neither comprehend nor control it.
The result is that the English labourer, of whose independence the world has heard so much, is, in many respects, more dependent than any other labouring class in Europe. This is due not to the fact that the English labourer lacks political rights, but to the fact that he lacks economic opportunities—opportunities to buy land and opportunities to labour; to own his own home, to keep a garden and raise his own food.