Many of our periodicals teem with advertisements anent the “happy home,” in which all the advantages of a thorough moral and intellectual training, combined with much motherly kindness and fatherly discipline, are set forth in glowing terms. Specious as are these insertions, the places themselves prove on inspection still more so—charming people, salubrious locality, and most desirable surroundings.
The scenery has been well got up, and the inimitable acting is worthy of a better cause. The inconsolable widow, so passionately fond of children, so anxious to drown her thoughts in occupation, and resolved never to marry again, is to be shunned like a cobra.
One of these, whom I have reason to remember, produced excellent testimonials, and took a house by the sea, where she entertained the parents sumptuously before their departure, winning their regard and the affections of the little ones; and as soon as father and mother were gone, a complete change came o’er the spirit of her dream. The children were utterly neglected, and, but for the interposition of a friend, heaven knows what would have become of them!
This growing thirst for the care of children hailing from the East has its mainspring doubtless in that universal regulator of thoughts and actions, money: the parents pay well and punctually, generally too in advance; and as some thousands of miles intervene between them and their offspring, the care-takers have the whip-hand all round.
Their strength is that of a giant, and as such I have ever found them use it. The amount of direct and indirect cruelty practised upon their helpless charges is simply appalling. The despised Hindoo despatches a female infant for whom he can anticipate no dowry; the enlightened European sacrifices male and female alike for reasons still less valid. Infanticide is extensively carried on in this country under the euphonious and rural alias of “Baby Farming,” a process by which infants are permitted to die by inches—the result of starvation and neglect, whereas the more merciful Oriental has his suffocated almost before full birth.
Indian legislation has almost stamped out the evil by vigorous and well-timed measures, while the machinery employed to effect the same purpose at home falls very short of the desired end. Ask those genuine philanthropists who pass their time amid the poor quarters of our over-populated towns and villages, what goes on sub rosa, aggravated by the modern facilities for insurance, which more than covers the simple funeral (expenses).
Periodical fits of indignation likewise surge up at home against the line of conduct adopted by the Indian Government with regard to the continuance of the opium-traffic. There is something sublime in the public disregard of far greater evils at our own door; though any well-informed physiologist can demonstrate that excessive smoking of opium is less deleterious in its effects than excessive consumption of alcohol.
The former exalts the imagination to a region of blissful dreams, where it can revel in all that is bright, and even the succeeding depression is not accompanied by any injury to either brain or stomach.
Alcohol, on the other hand, irritates the nervous centres permanently. A very large slice of our home revenue is flavoured with alcohol and tobacco; and our Indian Government also derives much support from opium. But there is a mighty difference: the Chinese are supplied from India with a pure, unadulterated article. What is unadulterated in modern England? Echo answers.
Without further delving into the abysmal and prolific mine of our misdoings and shortcomings, I think I have succeeded in directing the reader’s attention to the subject of the treatment of our young ones that we are compelled to leave to the tender mercies of relations, friends, and strangers.