Leaving thus the personal question, how the great courses of life are to be checked or changed, to each man’s conscience and discretion,—this following answer I would make in all cases to the inquiry, ‘What can I do?’
If the present state of this so-called rich England is so essentially miserable and poverty-stricken that honest men must always live from hand to mouth, while speculators make fortunes by cheating them out of their labour, and if, therefore, no sum can be set aside for charity,—the paralyzed honest men can certainly do little for the present. But, with what can be spared for charity, if anything, do this; buy ever so small a bit of ground, in the midst of the worst back deserts of our manufacturing towns; six feet square, if no more can be had,—nay, the size of a grave, if you will, but buy it freehold, and make a garden of it, by hand-labour; a garden visible to all men, and cultivated for all men of that place. If absolutely nothing will grow in it, then have herbs carried there in pots. Force the bit of ground into order, cleanliness, green or coloured aspect. What difficulties you have in doing this are your best subjects of thought; the good you will do in doing this, the best in your present power. [[181]]
What the best in your ultimate power may be, will depend on the action of the English landlord; for observe, we have only to separate the facts of the Swiss farm to ascertain what they are with respect to any state. We have only to ask what quantity of food it produces, how much it exports in exchange for other articles, and how much it imports in exchange for other articles. The food-producing countries have the power of educating gentlemen and gentlewomen if they please,—they are the lordly and masterful countries. Those which exchange mechanical or artistic productions for food are servile, and necessarily in process of time will be ruined. Next Fors, therefore, will be written for any Landlords who wish to be true Workmen in their vocation; and, according to the first law of the St. George’s Company, ‘to do good work, whether they die or live.’ [[183]]
NOTES AND CORRESPONDENCE.
I commend the whole of the following letter to the reader’s most serious consideration:—
Broxbourn, Herts, 11th June, 1874.
My dear Sir,—You are so tolerant of correspondents with grievances, that I venture to say a few more words, in reply to your note about Law Reform. In November next the Judicature Bill will come into operation. The preamble recites this incontestable fact, “that it is expedient to make provision for the better administration of justice in England.” Now, the two salient features of the incessant clamour for Law Reform are these—1st, an increased conviction of the sanctity of property; 2nd, a proportionate decrease in the estimate of human life. For years past the English people have spent incalculable money and talk in trying to induce Parliament to give them safe titles to their land, and sharp and instant means of getting in their debts: the Land Transfer Bill is in answer to this first demand, and the Judicature Bill to the second. Meanwhile the Criminal Code may shift for itself; and here we have, as the outcome of centuries of vulgar national flourish about Magna Charta, Habeas Corpus, and much else, the present infamous system of punishing crime by pecuniary penalties. Now the spirit of this evil system is simply this: “A crime is an offence against society. Making the [[184]]criminal suffer pain won’t materially benefit society, but making him suffer in his pocket will;” and so society elects to be battered about, and variously maltreated, on a sliding scale of charges, adjusted more on medical than moral principles. No doubt it is very desirable to have a title-deed to your thousand acres, no bigger than the palm of your hand, to be able to put it in a box, and sit upon it, and defy all the lawyers in the land to pick a flaw in your title; quite a millenium-like state of things, but liable to be somewhat marred if your next door neighbour may knock you off your box, stab you with a small pocket-knife, and jump on your stomach, all with grievous damage to you, but comparative immunity to himself. We are one day to have cheap law, meanwhile we have such cheap crime that injuries to the person are now within the reach of all. I may be a villain of the first water, if I have a few spare pounds in my pocket. From a careful survey of lately reported cases, I find I can run away with my neighbour’s wife, seduce his daughter, half poison his household with adulterated food, and finally stab him with a pocket-knife, for rather less than £1000. Stabbing is so ridiculously cheap that I can indulge in it for a trifling penalty of £1. (See Southall’s case.) But woe be to me if I dare to encroach on my neighbour’s land, prejudice his trade, or touch his pocket; then the law has remedies, vast and many, and I shall not only incur pecuniary penalties that are to all effects and purpose limitless, but I shall be made to suffer in person also. These two things are exactly indicative of the gradual decay of the national mind under the influence of two schools. The first teaches that man’s primary object in life is to “get on in the world;” hence we have this exaggerated estimate of the value and sanctity of property. The second school teaches that love can exist without reverence, mercy without justice, and liberty without obedience; and as the logical result of such teaching, we have lost all clear and healthy knowledge of what justice really is, and invent a system of punishments [[185]]which is not even really punitive, and without any element of retribution at all. Let us have instead a justice that not only condones the crime, but also makes a profit out of the criminal. And we get her; but note the irony of Fate: when our modern goddess does pluck up heart to be angry, she seems doomed to be angry in the wrong way, and with the wrong people. Here is a late instance (the printed report of which I send you):—
William Hawkes, a blind man and very infirm, was brought up, having been committed from Marlborough Street, to be dealt with as a rogue and vagabond.
On being placed in the dock,
Mr. Montagu Williams, as amicus curiæ, said he had known the prisoner for years, from seeing him sitting on Waterloo Bridge tracing his fingers over a book designed for the blind to read, and in no instance had he seen him beg from those who passed by, so that he was practically doing no harm, and some time ago the late Sir William Bodkin had dealt very mercifully with him. Something ought to be done for him.
Mr. Harris said he could corroborate all that his learned friend had stated.
The Assistant-Judge said he had been convicted by the magistrate, and was sent here to be sentenced as a rogue and vagabond, but the Court would not deal hardly with him.
Horsford, chief officer of the Mendicity Society, said the prisoner had been frequently convicted for begging.
The Assistant-Judge sentenced him to be imprisoned for four months.—May, 1874.
The other day I was reading a beautiful Eastern story of a certain blind man who sat by the wayside begging; clearly a very importunate and troublesome blind man, who would by no means hold his peace, but who, nevertheless, had his heart’s desire granted unto him at last. And yesterday I was also reading a very unlovely Western story of another blind man, who was “very infirm,” not at all importunate, did not even beg; only sat there by the roadside and read out of a certain Book that has [[186]]a great deal to say about justice and mercy. The sequel of the two stories varies considerably: in this latter one our civilized English Law clutches the old blind man by the throat, tells him he is a rogue and a vagabond, and flings him into prison for four months!
But our enlightened British Public is too busy clamouring for short deeds and cheap means of litigation, ever to give thought or time to mere “sentimental grievances.” Have you seen the strange comment on Carlyle’s letter of some months ago, in which he prophesied evil things to come, if England still persisted in doing her work “ill, swiftly, and mendaciously”? Our export trade, for the first five months of this year, shows a decrease of just eight millions! The newspapers note, with a horrified amazement, that the continental nations decline dealing any longer at the “old shop,” and fall back on home products, and try to explain it by reference to the Capital and Labour question. Carlyle foresaw Germany’s future, and told us plainly of it; he foresees England’s decadence, and warns us just as plainly of that; and the price we have already paid, in this year of grace 1874, for telling him to hold his tongue, is just eight millions.
Yours sincerely,
William Hawkes, a blind man and very infirm, was brought up, having been committed from Marlborough Street, to be dealt with as a rogue and vagabond.
On being placed in the dock,
Mr. Montagu Williams, as amicus curiæ, said he had known the prisoner for years, from seeing him sitting on Waterloo Bridge tracing his fingers over a book designed for the blind to read, and in no instance had he seen him beg from those who passed by, so that he was practically doing no harm, and some time ago the late Sir William Bodkin had dealt very mercifully with him. Something ought to be done for him.
Mr. Harris said he could corroborate all that his learned friend had stated.
The Assistant-Judge said he had been convicted by the magistrate, and was sent here to be sentenced as a rogue and vagabond, but the Court would not deal hardly with him.
Horsford, chief officer of the Mendicity Society, said the prisoner had been frequently convicted for begging.
The Assistant-Judge sentenced him to be imprisoned for four months.—May, 1874.
Next, or next but one, to the Fors for the squires, will come that for the lawyers. In the meantime, can any correspondent inform me, approximately, what the income and earnings of the legal profession are annually in England, and what sum is spent in collateral expenses for juries, witnesses, etc.? The ‘Times’ for May 18th of this year gives the following estimate of the cost of the Tichborne trial, which seems to me very moderate:—
The Trial of the Tichborne Claimant.—On Saturday a return to the House of Commons, obtained by Mr. W. H. Smith, was printed, showing the amount expended upon the prosecution in the [[187]]case of “Regina v. Castro, otherwise Orton, otherwise Tichborne,” and the probable amount still remaining to be paid out of the vote of Parliament for “this service.” The probable cost of the trial is stated at £55,315 17s. 1d., of which £49,815 17s. 1d. had been paid up to the 11th ult., and on the 11th of May inst. £5,500 remained unpaid. In 1872–3 counsels’ fees were £1,146 16s. 6d., and in 1873–4 counsels’ fees were £22,495 18s. 4d. The jury were paid £3,780, and the shorthand writers £3,493 3s. The other expenses were witnesses, agents, etc., and law stationers and printing. Of the sum to be paid, £4,000 is for the Australian and Chili witnesses.—Times, May 18th, 1874.
II. I reprint the following letter as it was originally published. I meant to have inquired into the facts a little farther, but have not had time.