"Is the view entertained by the Conservative party, the leading members of which are far too sensible and clever to put forward such narrow-minded theories. But it must never be forgotten that they're in the main looking out more for themselves and for their own interests than for us and ours. That's human nature, and I don't complain of it; if I did, it would be in a measure like cutting the ground from under our own feet, because one of the objects of this meeting-the principal object, I may say-is to look after ourselves and our own interests, which we've got the idea has been rather lost sight of. Now, before I come to the wind-up of my speech-it has been a great deal longer than I intended to make it-"
"Not a bit too long, Bart," was the general cry.
"Much obliged, mates. Before I come to the end of it, I want to impress one thing upon you. All over the world there are to be found men who go in for equality, with a capital E. Some of those men are scholars, lots of 'em clever and talented; but, mates, they've got a warp in their minds. Such a thing as equality ain't possible. If it was possible to establish it at nine o'clock to-night, by nine o'clock to-morrow morning it wouldn't exist. There must be different degrees among human beings, there must be inequalities, like the very world we live in, which, as we've been taught in school, resembles the outside of an orange. But our argument is-because I suppose we're pretty well agreed upon it-that the inequalities are now too great, and require to be rubbed down a bit. It's a difficult question, and it's got to be treated with good sense. And now, thanking you for your attention, and the meeting being regularly opened, we'll proceed to business."
Mr. Bartholomew sat down amid a volley of applause, after which there was a long silence, he being really the only practical man among them; or, to speak more correctly, the only man who had practice in this kind of movement, and knew how to conduct it.
"The first thing we've got to do, you know," he said, looking around, "is to propose a resolution forming ourselves into a distinct body. As the chairman of the meeting, I can't propose any resolution; it is for one of you to do it."
"All right, chairman," said a bold boot and shoe maker, "I do it."
"What?" inquired Mr. Bartholomew.
"Propose it," said the bold boot and shoe maker.
"Propose what?" asked Mr. Bartholomew.
"That we're a distinct body," said the bold boot and shoe maker.
"I seconds it," said another boot and shoe maker, starting up, and sinking instantly into his chair, covered with confusion. It was the first public speech he had ever made.
"No, no, that won't do," said Mr. Bartholomew, "you must put it in words-understandable words. You propose that we form ourselves into a working-man's club. That's your proposition, ain't it?"
"That's it," said the bold boot and shoe maker.
"And you second it," said Mr. Bartholomew, looking at boot and shoe maker No. 2, who faintly nodded. He had not the courage to speak again.
"It is proposed by Mr. Richard Chappel," said Mr. Bartholomew, "boot and shoe maker, and seconded by Mr. William Blackmore, that we form ourselves into a working-man's club, we being all of us Liberals, and our chief object being the political and social advancement of working-men generally. Those in favor of the resolution signify it in the usual manner by holding up their hands."
Every hand was held up.
"On the contrary," said the chairman.
Full half of those present held up their hands.
"No, no, no," cried the chairman, "there must be something wrong here. You, Stokes, and you, Manning, and you, Bill Forbes, and you, William Blackmore, who seconded the resolution, all voted for it, of course, and now you vote against it. You can't vote two ways!"
Boot and shoe maker No. 2, with a white face, whispered something in a neighbor's ear, who thereupon said:
"Blackmore says he always votes on the contrary. He does it at home."
"But that can't be here," said the chairman; "we must all vote one way or the other. Are you in favor of this club?"
"Yes," every man cried. "Is there any one not in favor of it?"
"No," every man cried.
"Then it's carried," said the chairman, "unanimously. Now we must give it a name."
Upon the face of every man present dwelt a pondering expression, the general just interpretation of which would be vacuity. Half a dozen put their fingers to their brows, but not one of them had a name to propose.
The ever-ready chairman-and be it here remarked that Mr. Bartholomew was as good-humored as he was apt-rose and said:
"It ain't the lightest of matters to give a fit name to such a club as ours. I think I can suggest one."
"Bart's the cleverest chap in the country," said one of the audience. "He ought to be prime-minister."
Mr. Bartholomew resumed.
"I don't throw it in your teeth, mates; it's only a matter of reading, and I don't doubt in a year or two that some of you will know as much as me, and a good deal more. I don't throw it in your teeth, I say, that perhaps none of you ever heard the name of William Wilberforce."
They looked at each other and shook their heads.
"He wasn't a working-man, he was a gentleman with plenty of money; born a gentleman, and bred at college. But, mates, he was a man who saw things with a clear eye, and a clear heart that bled at the sight of oppression, and with a mind steadfast enough to accomplish what it was set upon. It is to William Wilberforce that we may say we owe-not only we, but all mankind-the abolition of slavery."
Tremendous applause.
"I don't know how many years this grand gentleman worked for it-worked and fought for it. He was beat over and over again in the House of Commons and the House of Lords, but he stuck to his guns, and on his death-bed he had the good news brought to him that the second reading of the Abolition of Slavery Bill was carried. He was a man, and every Englishman is proud of him. He was a man because he worked and fought on the side of humanity, and if any one here will propose that our club be called the 'Wilberforce Club' I don't think he could do a much better day's work."
Up jumped a dozen and proposed it, and the chairman conducted the question to an orderly issue. It was carried that the title of the institution should be the "Wilberforce Club." Then, pioneered by Mr. Bartholomew, other small matters of detail were discussed and settled. Present subscription of members, one penny per week, and the first week's subscription was paid into the hands of an elected treasurer. Sub-committees were appointed to form rules for the guidance of the club, and to look out for a suitable room in which to gather together. And then the meeting broke up, satisfied and gratified with the work it had done.
CHAPTER XXXII
From the day of its formation the Wilberforce Club had prospered, and although it could never boast of more than sufficient funds to carry out its modest requirements, the principal of which were books and newspapers, it had become in some sense a political power in the district. As was right, Mr. Bartholomew, to whom its existence was due, was elected its first president, a position which he filled for many years; but although he was still in vigor of life, he had resolved to retire from the office, and, in spite of all attempts to induce him to withdraw his resignation, he insisted that it was time a new president should be appointed.
"You want new blood, my lads," he said; "you might as well have a king over you as a president who reigns all the years of his life. A stirring up of the waters is good for the people. If the new man doesn't work to your satisfaction I will take office again, perhaps. The vacation will rub the rust off me."
It was, therefore, for the purpose of choosing another president that the Wilberforce Club mustered in full force. It was bruited about, and indeed known to some few, that there was a likelihood of the introduction of a personal matter at the meeting which might prove exciting and interesting. Mr. Bartholomew had found it no easy task to keep well in hand a strong and full-blooded team such as the members of this working-man's club. Boys with ideas, and with a fresher and more advanced kind of education than their parents had received, had grown to be men, and were playing their part at the club meetings and in the social gatherings; and to this younger element the prospect of a change in the direction of affairs was not unpalatable. Upon Mr. Bartholomew the necessity of keeping a tight hand upon these youthful members, whose ideas were apt to run ahead of the times, had frequently impressed itself.
There were two candidates for the presidency. One was Mr. Richard Chappel, who had taken part in the initiatory meeting at which the club was constituted. He was then somewhat of a timid orator, but he was an apt scholar, and was now fully competent to conduct working-men's meetings. He was fairly popular, and had many supporters. The other candidate was Kingsley Manners, who was popular, and a favorite with all the members of the Wilberforce Club. By some he was considered not strict or strong enough to lead, but a good proportion of those who entertained this notion had determined to support him. It was not of his own wish that he had come forward for the office. He had been proposed by a powerful section who believed that through him it could work its own ends. The backbone of this section were the young members, who were always ready to take a foremost part in any agitation-such as entertainments, in the heart of which lurked some political object: processions against, or in favor of, some measure which was then being discussed in the House of Commons; the right of public meeting in public places, and so forth. These ambitious and hot-blooded members had been kept in moderate subjection by Mr. Bartholomew, and now rejoiced in the prospect of a president of less force of character.
Nansie's uncle, Mr. Loveday, was also a member of the Wilberforce. He had joined it at Nansie's solicitation, who was in anxiety lest Kingsley, through his easy nature, should be prevailed upon to take part in some violent movement. Mr. Loveday's reports to her had removed this cause of alarm.
"Kingsley does no harm at the club," he said; "it is an amusement and a relaxation to him. He knows that he is liked by all the members, and the knowledge affords him pleasure; and he obtains there books and papers which occupy his mind, and which otherwise would be out of his reach."
Kingsley's candidature for the presidency had, however, seriously discomposed Mr. Loveday. He saw beneath the surface, and suspected that Kingsley was simply put forward to assist the views of others.
Mr. Bartholomew opened the proceedings.
"You know," he said, "what we are met to decide. This is the last occasion-at least, for some time-upon which I shall take the chair at the gatherings of the Wilberforce; but that will not lessen my interest in its welfare, and I shall work quite as hard and earnestly as a soldier in the ranks as I have done in the position of your chief. Now, I want to give you a little bit of advice. Times are different from when this club was first started; men and opinions are more advanced; there is a better kind of education going on in the land, and people who, under the old ways, would never have learned to read and write can now do both very well. But I want to warn you. It's a good thing to be able to read and write, but it's a better thing to be able to profit by these advantages. Go ahead we must; the onward march cannot be stopped; but beware of going ahead too fast. Slow and sure is a motto I was not very fond of when I was a young man, but I have learned its value since, especially in such movements as ours. There is no telling what changes the next fifty years may see; in my opinion they will be more startling than any that has gone before; but in order that these changes shall be for the real benefit of the people-that is to say, of us-it will be necessary to look before we leap. Now, I am not going to particularize; I am speaking in a general sense. There are individual instances of wrong with which I sympathize as much as any of you can do, but I don't intend to make any such instance a ground for general action. What we have to attend to is the interest and prosperity of ourselves as a body. According to the rules, you are now to elect a president for the year. You have done me the honor of re-electing me again and again for a number of years, and I believe I have given you satisfaction. I hope that our new president will work as I have done-for the general good of all."
Mr. Bartholomew having resumed his seat, a member rose to propose Mr. Richard Chappel as president. He was duly seconded, and then another member proposed Mr. Kingsley Manners, who was also seconded. There being no other candidates, the aspirants for office addressed the meeting:
"I propose," said Mr. Chappel, "to tread in the footsteps of our late worthy president, Mr. Bartholomew. I quite agree with him in all his opinions, and all he has done. More haste, less speed. We have never been in a hurry, and we have done a good deal since we started. In elections we have made ourselves a bit of a power, and the reason of this is that we have always seen where we were going to fix our nails; we have not knocked them wildly about, and made holes in wrong places. If you elect me as your president, I will do the best I can in the office."
"Good," said Mr. Bartholomew.
"Good," also said and thought many of the elder members; but the younger ones looked at each other and shook their heads.
"Richard Chappel promises nothing," said one, starting up.
"What do you want him to promise?" asked Mr. Bartholomew; and, as young Hotblood could not exactly say, he sat down abashed, but in no wise satisfied.
"That is it," said Mr. Bartholomew; "and I should like you to bear it in mind. I don't wish to influence you, nor to say a word against Mr. Kingsley Manners, who is a favorite with all of us; but as a common member of the club I am entitled, as every other common member is, to express my opinion upon this subject. Here is a candidate for office, Mr. Richard Chappel, who pledges himself, if elected, to govern the club in the same way that it has hitherto been governed; and here is one of our members jumping up and saying that he promises nothing. To that I reply that Richard Chappel promises a great deal. He promises to do everything that is constitutional; he promises to act for the benefit of the club, as I have acted. If that doesn't satisfy you, I don't know what will. Mind, I'm not saying one word against Mr. Manners; I respect and like him, but I shall give my vote to Richard Chappel."
"Let us hear Mr. Manners," said a member.
Kingsley rose and addressed the meeting. He had for some little while past regarded this approaching event as of great importance, and had prepared himself for it. He said he was in favor of public meeting in all public spaces. He spoke strongly against the monopoly of brewers and distillers. He advocated universal suffrage, and he characterized as infamous the neglect of sanitary laws in the dwellings of the people. The whole aim of government, he said, should be for the benefit of the many, and not of the few. There were old-time privileges which, perhaps, could not be suddenly abolished, but to which, at all events, a limit should be set. He spoke for half an hour, and the tenor of his observations may be gathered from this brief description. When he sat down some were pleased, some were displeased, and some did not know exactly what to think.
"Mr. Manners," said Mr. Bartholomew, "has generalized almost as much as Richard Chappel."
"No," cried some of Kingsley's supporters; "there is a great difference between them."
"Let us hear and discuss," said Mr. Bartholomew; "it will open our minds."
"What does Richard Chappel say about universal suffrage?" asked a member.
Richard Chappel scratched his head. He had not given the subject that necessary consideration which enabled him to reply on the instant. Up jumped Mr. Bartholomew.
"I like that hesitation on Richard Chappel's part," he said. "Universal suffrage has bothered cleverer heads than any in this room."
"What do you say about it?" asked a bold member. Mr. Bartholomew laughed.
"I would give it to every man who has a right to it."
"Every man has a right to it!"
"No, no; there must be qualifications. The Reform Act did a lot for us, and a lot has been done since, and a lot more will be done in the future. There must be electoral qualification. Even in our little club here every man has not a right to become a member. The difference between some of us is this-we agree upon the main point, but we do not agree in the way of bringing it about. 'Go slow' is my motto."
"Yes," grumbled one, "and die before we reap."
"Perhaps," said Mr. Bartholomew, gravely. "But does that lessen the value of our work, which, I take it, lies greatly in its unselfishness? We look more to the future than to the present. We think of our children and of the benefits they will enjoy, benefits brought about by us who may not live to see the fruit."
Much discussion of a similar nature followed, and it seemed likely at one time that the result would be largely influenced by the private wrongs of a member who had resolved to take this opportunity of ventilating them, and had, indeed, been urged to that course by the more inflammatory spirits. His story was not an uncommon one, and may be narrated in a very few words. He was a working-man, of course, with one child, a daughter whom he idolized. This daughter, to his grief and despair, had left her home; and it was, the father said, a gentleman who had brought the shame upon them. The man was very eloquent in his description of the monstrous wrong. He did not know the name or the whereabouts of the villain who had inflicted it, and said that if he could find him he would strike him dead at his feet. Mr. Bartholomew was too wise to prevent the father from speaking, although he strongly disapproved of the intrusion of this private matter into the club business; but he saw that it had been prearranged, and was intended to influence the election in favor of Kingsley. As a prudent general, therefore, he proposed the adjournment of the meeting, which broke up in some slight confusion.
CHAPTER XXXIII
This meeting led to important results. It is by small and apparently trivial matters that the main issues of life are determined. A fall of rain, the plucking of a flower, the accidental turning to the right or the left-any one of these trifling incidents is sufficient to stamp the future with an indelible impress.
Parkinson was the name of the man whose daughter had been tempted from her home by the false wooing of a man in a superior station of life to her own; the daughter's name was Mary. The disclosure of this private wrong proved to be the most exciting incident in the proceedings of the Wilberforce Club on the night of the proposed election, and after the meeting broke up the grievance formed the subject of animated discussion all around the neighborhood. To feel and express sympathy for the father was humanly natural, but here and there this sympathy was expressed in an unreasoning and dangerous manner, and served as a peg-as was attempted at the Wilberforce-upon which to hang an ominous string of hardships as between class and class. Dr. Perriera, who had remained a firm and faithful friend to Nansie and her family, had just listened to certain outpourings of this nature mouthed by a trenchant demagogue to a small band of working-men and lads, among whom, also, was Mr. Loveday. These two more intelligent of the audience walked away together.
"It is remarkable," said Dr. Perriera, "to note the blindness of these ignorant orators to palpable facts. The way in which Mary Parkinson was brought up was enough to ruin any girl. A father at work all day and spending his nights at the Wilberforce Club. A mother dying when her daughter was twelve years of age, and leaving as a legacy to her child a recollection of frivolities. This was one of the reasons-perhaps the principal one-why Parkinson spent nearly all his leisure time away from his home. His wife had no notion of domestic duties, was a bad cook, and either would not or could not make his home attractive to him. Parkinson is a good and skilful workman, has never been ill a week in his life, has never been out of employment. This is an unusual record, but it has not benefited him. When his wife was alive she and he between them spent every penny of his earnings; she was fond of incongruous color in her dress, fond of mock jewelry, fond of aping the foolish fashions of her betters. She was fond of worse things-of music-halls and their brutalizing vulgarity. I am well aware that it is absolutely necessary to provide amusement for the people; without it life would be unendurable; but I have always been of the opinion, and experience has confirmed it, that amusement in a worse form than that provided by the music-hall could scarcely be devised. I speak of the entertainments as a whole. There are portions of them which are innocently amusing and healthful, but the most popular features are those which the exponents of coarseness and vulgarity provide. I had some opportunity of studying Mrs. Parkinson's character, and I know that it was this coarser element of the entertainments that attracted her. I frequently heard her singing verses of songs which, I regret to say, were and are popular, and the true meaning of which is an offence to decency. The mischief is that this moral poison is at the bottom of the cup; but it is well known to be there by everybody who partakes of it; and even when it is so cleverly veiled that it can only be conveyed by a motion or a gesture, this form of expression is carried away by the audience and used by them when they sing the song in private. It is to Parkinson's credit that he preferred the Wilberforce Club to the music-hall; but it is not to his credit that he left the entire social education and recreation of his daughter to one so unfitted for these duties as his wife. I would not make life too serious, but I refuse to excuse any person who ignores its responsibility. Parkinson allowed his wife to take their little Mary to the music-halls, and to implant in her nature a foundation of frivolity which has borne bad fruit; it could not be hoped that it would bear good."
"I agree entirely with you," said Mr. Loveday, "and if I take the matter more closely to heart it is because of the affection which our Hester bears for the poor girl. Mary is bright and attractive, and has many good qualities."
"Good qualities which needed home training," said Dr. Perriera, "and which should not have been allowed to run wild. Bright and attractive! Frequently a misfortune when the early education has been bad. I will finish my argument. The orator to whom we have just listened is one of an unreasoning class who takes into account only the faults and errors of one side of his case. That side, in his view, is thoroughly black; the other side is thoroughly white. Fair-minded men are bound to take into consideration both cause and effect, and men incapable of doing this are not fitted to lead. I am sorry that Mr. Bartholomew has resigned the presidency of the Wilberforce; in addition to being a man of sound, advanced opinions, he was a restraining force. Do you think Kingsley Manners fit for the position?"
"I do not," replied Mr. Loveday, firmly, "and I have done all I could to dissuade him from standing for office. At times I thought I was succeeding, but some kind of outside influence has always thwarted me. 'A man must follow his star,' he said; and he said it, I believe, with but a vague idea of his meaning."
"There are members of the Wilberforce," said Dr. Perriera, "who want to use Kingsley Manners as a tool; and he, with his amiable nature, might easily be led into a false position. His true friends must save him from this danger, if possible."
"The difficulty is to find a way," observed Mr. Loveday.
As he made this remark a hand was laid upon his arm, and, turning, he saw Nansie. From her face the beauty of youth had quite fled; sorrow and trial had left their traces there, but her brave spirit and cheerful endurance of long hours of toil had so chastened her that no one could be long in her presence without being made to feel that here was one in whom the highest attributes of fortitude, faith, and duty's performance were manifest. The time was within a few minutes to eleven, and Mr. Loveday was surprised to see her out at that hour of the night.
"Do you know where Kingsley is?" she asked.
"No," replied Mr. Loveday. "Is he not at home?"
"He has not returned yet," said Nansie, "and I am anxious about him."
"I will find him for you," said Mr. Loveday. "He will come home at once when he hears you are uneasy about him."
"Yes, I know he will do that. I should like to see him myself, to explain-"
"Nansie," cried Mr. Loveday, as she paused, "something is troubling you."
"Yes," she answered, frankly; "I cannot tell you what it is-I do not think I ought."
"Where is Hester?"
"At home, alone. She will not go to bed until her father returns."
"But you, Nansie, are you not going back?"
"No; I have something to do that will keep me out late. That is what I wished to see Kingsley for-to explain it to him. Tell him I may not be home till the morning, and that Hester is waiting for him. He is not to worry himself; everything is right."
"There goes a true woman," said Dr. Perriera, looking after her, "upon an errand of mercy and goodness."
"Do you know what it is?" asked Mr. Loveday.
"No, nor can I guess, but I would stake my life that it is as I say, and that you believe as I do, notwithstanding that we are both in the dark."
"You are right," said Mr. Loveday. "Dr. Perriera, misfortune sometimes proves a blessing. It has been so to me. Had I been rich and prosperous, I doubt whether it would have been given to me to know the perfect sweetness and beauty to be found in common lives."
"It is the fashion to call them common lives," responded Dr. Perriera, "though here and there is a life which an angel would be proud to live."