"The sweat of industry would dry, and die,
But for the end it workrt to." Shakspeare.
"Man is a shop of rules, a well-trussed pack,
Whose every parcel underwrites a law,"—George Herbert.
"Care preserves what Industry gains. He who attends to his business diligently but not carefully, throws away with one hand what he gathers with the other."—Colton.
"The acquisition of property, the accumulation of capital, is already in the power of the better-paid working class; and legislation has but few further facilities to give, or obstacles to remove. Their savings are now so large that only soberer habits and rounder sense are needed to make them independent capitalists in less than half a lifetime."—W.R. Greg.
Employers can do a great deal towards promoting habits of thrift, prudence, and sobriety amongst their workpeople. Though the working man does not like to be patronized, he has no objections to be helped. We have already seen that individuals can do much; they can cultivate habits of economy, and lay by a certain portion of their earnings for help in time of need. But they want encouragement and assistance. They want sympathy; they want help.
If masters fully understood the immense amount of influence which they possess, they would extend their sympathy and confidence to their workmen,—which Would cost them so very little, and profit them so very much. We know of no instance where an employer has displayed a concern for the social well-being and improvement of his workmen, in which he has not been repaid by their increased respect and zeal on his behalf. He may, for instance, arrange that wages shall not be paid so as to drive them into the market late on Saturday nights, when they are often under the necessity of making their weekly purchases at a great disadvantage. Of course, workmen who possess a little store of savings, might make their purchases at greater advantage at any other time. The employer might also avoid paying wages in public-houses, and thus keep his workmen out of the way of incurring an expenditure upon drink, that might prove so hurtful.
But masters can do more than this. They can actively aid their workmen in the formation of prudent habits, by establishing savings banks for men and women, and penny banks for boys and girls; by encouraging the formation of provident clubs and building societies, of provision and clothing clubs, and in many other ways. They might also distribute among them, without any officious interference, good counsel as to the manner in which they might make the best use of their wages. Many large employers have already accomplished much practical good, by encouraging the formation of provident institutions,—in which they have never failed to secure the respect, and generally the co-operation, of their workmen.
At the same time there is much want of sympathy between masters and men. In fact, want of sympathy pervades all classes—the poorer, the working, the middle, and the upper classes. There are many social gaps between them, which cannot yet be crossed, which cannot yet be united. "If I were to be asked," said Judge Talfourd, on whom Death was at the moment laying his hand, "what is the great want of English society—to mingle class with class—I would say, in one word, the want is the want of sympathy." A great truth, but not yet appreciated. It is the old truth, on which Christianity is based, of "Love one another"—simple saying, but containing within it a gospel sufficient to renovate the world. But where men are so split and divided into classes, and are so far removed that they can scarcely be said to know one another, they cannot have a due social regard and consideration, much less a genuine sympathy and affection, for each other?
Charity cannot remedy the evil. Giving money, blankets, coals, and such-like, to the poor—where the spirit of sympathy is wanting,—does not amount to much. The charity of most of the Lord and Lady Bountifuls begins with money, and ends there. The fellow-feeling is absent. The poor are not dealt with as if they belonged to the same common family of man, or as if the same human heart beat in their breasts.
Masters and servants live in the same unsympathetic state. "Each for himself" is their motto. "I don't care who sinks, so that I swim." A man at an inn was roused from his slumber; "There is a fire at the bottom of the street," said the waiter. "Don't disturb me" said the traveller, "until the next house is burning." An employer said to his hands, "You try to get all you can out of me; and I try to get all I can out of you." But this will never do. The man who has any sympathy in him cannot allow such considerations to overrule his better nature. He must see the brighter side of humanity ever turned towards him. "Always to think the worst," said Lord Bolingbroke, "I have ever found the mark of a mean spirit and a base soul."