English benefactors have recently been following in the same direction. The Owen's College at Manchester; the Brown Library and Museum at Liverpool; the Whitworth Benefaction, by which thirty scholarships of the annual value of £100 each have been founded for the promotion of technical instruction; and the Scientific College at Birmingham, founded by Sir Josiah Mason, for the purpose of educating the rising generation in "sound, extensive, and practical scientific knowledge,"—form a series of excellent institutions which will, we hope, be followed by many similar benefactions. A man need not moulder with the green grass over his grave, before his means are applied to noble purposes. He can make his benefactions while living, and assist at the outset in carrying out his liberal intentions.
Among the great benefactors of London, the name of Mr. Peabody, the American banker, cannot be forgotten. It would take a volume to discuss his merits, though we must dismiss him in a paragraph. He was one of the first to see, or at all events to make amends for, the houseless condition of the working classes of London. In the formation of railways under and above ground, in opening out and widening new streets, in erecting new public buildings,—the dwellings of the poor were destroyed, and their occupants swarmed away, no one knew whither. Perhaps they crowded closer together, and bred disease in many forms. Societies and companies were formed to remedy the evil to a certain extent. Sir Sydney Waterlow was one of the first to lead the way, and he was followed by others. But it was not until Mr. Peabody had left his splendid benefaction to the poor of London, that any steps could be taken to deal with the evil on a large and comprehensive scale. His trustees have already erected ranges of workmen's dwellings in many parts of the metropolis,—which will from time to time be extended to other parts. The Peabody dwellings furnish an example of what working men's dwellings ought to be. They are clean, tidy, and comfortable homes. They have diminished drunkenness; they have promoted morality. Mr. Peabody intended that his bounty should "directly ameliorate the condition and augment the comforts of the poor," and he hoped that the results would "be appreciated, not only by the present, but by future generations of the people of London." From all that the trustees have done, it is clear that they are faithfully and nobly carrying out his intentions.
All these benefactors of the poor were originally men of moderate means. Some of them were at one time poor men. Sir Joseph Whitworth was a journeyman engineer with Mr. Clement, in Southwark, the inventor of the planing machine. Sir Josiah Mason was by turns a costermonger, journeyman baker, shoemaker, carpet weaver, jeweller, split-steel ring maker (here he made his first thousand pounds), steel-pen maker, copper-smelter, and electro-plater, in which last trade he made his fortune. Mr, Peabody worked his way up by small degrees, from a clerk in America to a banker in London. Their benefactions have been the result of self-denial, industry, sobriety, and thrift.
Benevolence throws out blossoms which do not always ripen into fruit. It is easy enough to project a benevolent undertaking, but more difficult to carry it out. The author was once induced to take an interest in a proposed Navvy's Home; but cold water was thrown upon the project, and it failed. The navvy workmen, who have made the railways and docks of England, are a hard-working but a rather thriftless set. They are good-hearted fellows, but sometimes drunken. In carrying out their operations, they often run great dangers. They are sometimes so seriously injured by wounds and fractures as to be disabled for life. For instance, in carrying out the works of the Manchester, Sheffield, and Lincolnshire Railway, there were twenty-two cases of compound fractures seventy-four simple fractures, besides burns from blasts, severe contusions, lacerations, and dislocations. One man lost both his eyes by a blast, another had his arm broken by a blast. Many lost their fingers, feet, legs, and arms; which disabled them for further work. Knowing the perils to which railway labourers were exposed, it occurred to a late eminent contractor to adopt some method for helping and comforting them in their declining years. The subject was brought under the author's notice by his friend the late Mr. Eborall, in the following words: "I have just been visiting a large contractor—a man of great wealth; and he requests your assistance in establishing a 'Navvy's Home.' You know that many of the contractors and engineers, who have been engaged in the construction of railways, are men who have accumulated immense fortunes: the savings of some of them amount to millions. Well, my friend the contractor not long since found a miserable, worn-out old man in a ditch by the roadside. 'What,' said he, 'is that you?' naming the man in the ditch by his name. 'Ay,' replied the man, ''deed it is!' 'What are you doing there?' 'I have come here to die. I can work no more.' 'Why don't you go to the workhouse? they will attend to your wants there.' 'No! no workhouse for me! If I am to die, I will die in the open air.' The contractor recognized in the man one of his former navvies. He had worked for him and for other contractors many years; and while they had been making their fortunes, the navvy who had worked for them had fallen so low as to be found dying in a ditch. The contractor was much affected. He thought of the numerous other navvies who must be wanting similar help. Shortly after, he took ill, and during his illness, thinking of what he might do for the navvies, the idea occurred to him of founding a 'Navvy's Home;' and he has desired me to ask you to assist him in bringing out the institution."
It seemed to the author an admirable project, and he consented to do all that he could for it. But when the persons who were the most likely to contribute to such an institution were applied to, they threw such floods of cold water upon it,[1] that it became evident, in the face of their opposition, that "The Navvy's Home" could not be established. Of course, excuses were abundant. "Navvies were the most extravagant workmen. They threw away everything that they earned. They spent their money on beer, whisky, tally-women, and champagne. If they died in ditches, it was their own fault. They might have established themselves in comfort, if they wished to do so. Why should other people provide for them in old age, more than for any other class of labourers? There was the workhouse: let them go there." And so on. It is easy to find a stick to beat a sick dog. As for the original projector, he recovered his health, he forgot to subscribe for "The Navvy's Home," and the scheme fell to the ground.
"The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be:
The devil grew well, the devil a saint was he.'
[Footnote 1: With one admirable exception. A noble-hearted man, still living volunteered a very large subscription towards the establishment of "the Navvy's Home.">[
CHAPTER XV.
HEALTHY HOMES.
"The best security for civilization is the dwelling. "—B. Disraeli.