Then there is the complaint that servants are not what they used to be—the faithful retainers of the household, and considering themselves members of it. Perhaps not, but I have had experience of several faithful retainers, and invariably found them to be unmitigated tyrants, assuming power, repudiating responsibility, and being practically the master or mistress of the household.
Then we come to the great question of slavery in its various bearings.
Putting aside the now acknowledged diversity of races, and the well-known fact that the negro in a state of slavery to a European is infinitely better off than he would have been in his own country, where there is no law but that of might, we must entertain the question of enforced servitude, i.e. where the servants have no choice either in entering or leaving their situations.
It is, of course, opposed, and rightly, to our modern English ideas that a slave, under such a name, should exist on British ground. Yet there are thousands of Englishmen who are more wholly enslaved than was any negro in the worst times of slavery. The chains may not be of visible iron, nor the whips of tangible thongs, but they are, perhaps, all the more galling and biting.
Some of my readers may be aware that slavery exists in the insect world, and probably existed long before man came on earth.
There are many species of Ants which are absolutely incapable of managing their own nests or rearing their own young, and which, in consequence, impress into their service the workers of other species of Ant, and hand over to them the entire labour of the establishment. They can fight, and they can establish fresh colonies, but they cannot build nests, nor nurse their young, and so they impress into their service those Ants whose instinct teaches them to do both.
Periodically the master Ants, if we may so call them, set off on a slave-hunting expedition. They find out the nest of the special Ant whose aid they need, penetrate into it, and bear off the pupæ, or “ants’ eggs,” as they are popularly called. These are carried to their new home, and are speedily hatched. They know no other home, and, led by instinct, set to work as industriously as if they had never been removed.
Those who have watched their habits are unanimous in declaring that they seem perfectly happy and contented. No compulsion is used towards them, and they work because told to do so by their own instinct. Work they must, and it does not in the least matter to them for whom the work is done.
Another branch of this subject is shown in the accompanying illustration, namely, the pleasure garden or playground.