We have placed their statues in a prominent position; but what do they mean to us? They are reminders of a state of things in a large part passed away, and as suggesters of a hope of a larger life in the future they contain a recognition and a resolve—a recognition of their work and a resolve to carry it forward: a recognition of the debt we owe to them, which can only be paid by service rendered to others. It is a debt which no statue, no matter how costly or lifelike, can liquidate. It can only be paid in kind. That is a truth we should not forget, but on all occasions give expression to. It is that expression which stamps real dignity upon the life of any man. Position, rank, title, wealth are all useless, for the true index is manliness and useful service. The true reformers have been (and are) men who assisted the good and resisted the evil, not simply because it would pay or bring preferment or popularity, but because they felt in their hearts the impulses (and compulsions, if you will) of duty. The love of man constrained them, and the imperative I must forced them onward. The world's progress has not depended on the acts of the so-called great men, but on the endeavours and self-denials of men who were lost often amid the mists and struggles and poverty of life, and to whom its heavy burdens were not theoretical, but terribly near in their contact, and fearful in their weight and trial.
The deeds of the workers of the race are not recorded to decorate history, but for strengthening the generations to come. For such purpose has prominence been given here to our workers. "The measure of a nation's civilisation is the number of the brave men it has had, whose qualities have been harvested for children and youth." We have had our brave men. They did not live to themselves. In this we must be their imitators.
[AU REVOIR]
I have had many pleasant occupations in connection with our Association, and the writing of this outline of our history is not the least pleasing among them. It has taken much time, but the result has been (not to be burdensome, but) to impart a somewhat hurried and loose character to the writing, and perhaps some slight omissions of facts, not material to the general course of the history. It has been compiled in the rush of other matters, and in odd minutes as they offered themselves, but its purpose will be attained if a desire to form a closer acquaintance with our growth and transactions be provoked, especially in the minds of our young men, in the hope that they may be rooted and grounded in their faith in Trades Unionism. The dependence of the future is upon them. What is more important than for them to have a full knowledge of our policy and procedure?
The subject is to me of the most interesting nature. From start to finish it has been running the current of my own life, because in nearly all the incidents I have had some small share—as one in the ranks at first, and in these later years as one of the officials. I saw the start, have seen the growth, and feel proud of its position. With those who helped to form it I shared the evil speaking and unfair treatment when we made the attempt, and have never hesitated to be a partner in the blame and slanders which small-minded men have seen fit to bestow upon those who were doing their duty. The narrow mind always feels a pleasure in censuring others. I say nothing of the work which has been done except this: in all I have had any part in there has been pleasure, and none of the hireling waiting for the shadow of the day. I have shared the regrets of those who regretted the failures, and now I am thankful there is large room to rejoice over the progress made and the position attained. This feeling, you will permit me to say, is bound to be stronger in me than in most men. It is part of my life. Thirty-seven years is a long time. A man is a fool, or worse, if, living in contact with an institution (one in which he has lived and moved and had his being), it has not made more than a mechanical impression upon him. I have passed from youth to age in that contact. It commenced in the prime of manhood, and continues when life's day is declining, and the gathering shades indicate the sun has dipped far to the west, and to find myself in active service, even with the limited powers resulting from the weight of threescore years and ten, is the crown of my rejoicing.
I have been a long time the colleague of some of you. In the battle we have been shoulder to shoulder, and our hair has turned grey in the fight. We have been together in good and evil, for the web of our life has been of mingled yarn. Good and evil together have been mixed, but the good has predominated—how much we alone can tell. I rejoice with you that we have lived to see this day, and that we are still fighting the good fight, with the hopeful spirit, if the physical energies are less than when we commenced. There is a great distance between the point we have attained and the valley whence we started—a distance not measured by time. The true standard is an experience such as our life alone can supply.
My final word is to my young brothers. It is that of exhortation to appreciate not merely the conditions you enjoy, but the possibilities opened out to you. The thought of these should stir you up to the enjoyment of one and the use of the other. Believe me, about this I am very anxious, and shall rejoice if something in this book, or suggested by it, tends to stir you to good and profitable use of the facilities and time the Association has opened out to you. The opening out of these devolves upon you a twofold duty: to yourselves first, and then devoting yourselves to the improvement, solidifying, strengthening, and perfecting of the organisation. Let me quote a few words I have written to you before:
To omit the duty you owe to yourselves; to neglect the opportunities which are open to you; to think all of pleasure and sport, and nothing of mental culture; to leave the institutes which are opening out to you, with their libraries, and which with their stores of knowledge bring you into living, thoughtful contact with the mental giants of the race; to live only for present enjoyment, with no preparation for to-morrow, which will need and make demands upon you, is surely a lack of forethought, which is condemnable for two reasons, because it stunts your own nature (for no uneducated man is complete), and hinders your usefulness when matured manhood calls upon you to take your place in the affairs of your class and nation, to assist in the progress of one and the rectification of the national evils. Put not your trust in other people entirely; look not to some power outside yourselves to raise you higher in the social scale, whether it be parliamentary or otherwise. The most effective means for further progress lies in us. We want to be true to ourselves, resting not satisfied with foul conditions and surroundings nor ignorance. An educated people is a powerful people; for where is there a man who knows what is due to a man who will be satisfied with less than what a man requires and deserves?
These thoughts form the raison-d'être of this history. The aim is to make it a reliable record of facts and an inspiration to those who read. There has been no attempt at literary display. There has been a desire to give prominence to the principles of the founders, and to urge adherence to them, for by them we have come, and by them we shall progress. Our course has been gradual, but it has been safe. We have a record of which all may justly feel proud. It has not been rushing nor spasmodic. In these ofttimes lies ruin, and this we have found when we as an Association have tried that method. Carefulness and caution are not cowardice. These feelings may not be heroic, but they have proved their fitness in the years that are gone. "Discretion is the better part of valour."