Christmas Stories Part 9

These threats answered the purpose of alarming Barton, whose _good-nature_, great as it was, had never been able to stifle his regard for his own interest. He accordingly set actively to work to collect the arrears.

Those who had been unable to pay _one_ rate, were not likely to pay _four_, which had now become due, together with the heavy addition occasioned by the indictment. Some of the defaulters blamed the overseer, for having let it run on so long; and all found fault with him for having brought so serious an expense upon the parish by his neglect about the roads.

_All_, I should not say;--for the poor widow Wildgoose uttered not a word of reproach or complaint against any one, but when asked for her arrears of rates, pa.s.sively replied that she had no money, and that the parish must take her goods.

She had never held up her head since the death of her eldest son. When she first set up her shop, she dealt a good deal for ready money, of course selling to ready-money customers at a much lower rate. From the time of her son's death, however, her activity and attention to business had deserted her. She suffered many of the poor to run deeply in her debt, and if she hinted any thing about payment, they pretended to be affronted, and took all their ready money to the other shops. Farmer Barton, too, thought that it would be _good-natured_ to give the poor widow the _credit_ of his custom and protection, and had almost all his shop-goods and grocery from her house. Unfortunately, however, neither his _good-nature_, of which he had so much--nor his sense of justice, of which he had but little--ever led him to recollect to pay her. She was too much depressed--too _meek-spirited_--to urge, or even to ask for, payment, and the consequence was, that she was just approaching to utter ruin, which was of course likely to be accelerated by her goods being distrained for poor rates. Her surviving children were in service in creditable places, and would have helped her in a moment; but she could not bear to tell them of her difficulties. Now, however, one of her neighbours contrived to let them know the situation, in which their mother was. Immediately they made up out of their wages a sum sufficient not only to pay off her arrears, but to give her a trifle for her present wants. And soon after she received by the post a blank cover addressed to her, inclosing a five pound note. She had no guess who could have sent it, but it was soon discovered that it came from Lucy Wilmot, a young woman to whom her eldest son had been attached. Her second son Sam lived with a kind-hearted lawyer in London, who, upon hearing of the distress of the poor widow and its cause, not only sent her some a.s.sistance in money, but promised to take an early opportunity of looking into her affairs, and of taking measures for compelling those of her debtors who were able, to pay what they owed her.

Of the other defaulters, some contrived to procure the necessary money; some were summoned before the magistrates, and then, finding that they had no remedy, found a friend to advance the money; against others warrants of distress were issued.

No case excited more commiseration than that of Michael Fielding.

Michael had been a remarkably industrious and prudent labourer, and had managed to save a considerable sum of money. He married a young woman of similar character, and being naturally anxious to get forward in the world, they had ventured, seven or eight years before, to take a small farm. The rent was moderate when they took their lease, but they had felt the change of times severely. The property was in the hands of trustees, who did not feel justified in making a diminution of rent; and consequently poor Michael, every year, saw his means growing less, while his family grew larger. He was at work early and late, his wife gave all the help she could in the farm, and mended the children's clothes as long as they would hold together; and the hard-earned bread, upon which the family lived, was so coa.r.s.e, that many of the labourers in the village would have turned from it in disdain. Michael was naturally of a cheerful disposition, and not apt to murmur or complain; sometimes, however, he could hardly suppress a sigh, when he thought of his own children, and of the hard fare to which they were accustomed, and saw in the parish-books the large sums that were given by the _good-nature_ of Barton to idle and worthless characters[p]. Now and then he had ventured gently to remonstrate upon the hardship of being obliged to contribute so large a portion of his limited means towards the maintenance of men, who had begun the world with the same advantages with himself, and who, but for their own improvidence, might have lived without being a burden to any one. The comparative smallness of his farm, however, and his former situation in life, prevented his remonstrance from being of much weight. He was now nearly insolvent.

Several persons, to whom his character was known, would have been happy to have a.s.sisted him, but he was too high-minded to acquaint them with his difficulties. All the money, that by his utmost exertion he could sc.r.a.pe together, was just gone for rent, and he had nothing at all left to meet the demand for the arrears of rates, and for his portion of the expenses of the indictment. Barton, in spite of his _good-nature_, felt obliged to distrain. This brought other creditors upon poor Michael, and he was obliged to sell off every thing.

[Footnote p: Townsend.]

Barton, however, was enabled to make up his accounts, and had got them pa.s.sed at the vestry, though there certainly was among his brother farmers a little grumbling. Barton defended himself as well as he could, and added, that at all events he had got the _good-word_ of the poor; that he always had borne, and always hoped to bear, the character of a _good-natured man_. Farmer Oldacre could not suffer this to pa.s.s without observation. He had been a little irritated by some things which he had witnessed at the vestry, and felt deeply for poor Michael, who had formerly worked upon his farm, and whom he had always loved and respected. "Come, come, neighbour Barton," said he, "let us hear no more of your _good-nature_, for which we all have to pay so dear. Your wish to obtain the _good-word_ of the poor has not really benefitted them, and has done serious injury to the rest of your neighbours. Your _good-nature_ about the licence has increased the immorality and the poverty of the parish;--and your _good-nature_ to the road-workmen has given Fowler a broken leg;--your _good-nature_ to farmer Dobson, in not making him cut his hedge, and do his statute-duty, has cost us ninety pounds;--and your _good-nature_ as overseer has made the parish less able to pay that sum, and has helped to complete the ruin of two or three deserving families. And--if I may venture here to mention so serious a consideration--your _good-nature_ would have allowed a sinner to go on towards eternal destruction without warning, and, for the sake of avoiding uneasiness of mind _here_, would have suffered him to incur everlasting punishment _hereafter_.

"Farmer Barton--I value brotherly-kindness most highly. I know that the love of our neighbour, and a readiness to do him good offices, is the second great commandment both of the Law and of the Gospel. But I hope that I shall ever be on my guard against that love of low popularity, that weak fear of giving offence, that sacrifice of _public_ principle to _private_ considerations, which, under the engaging name of _good-nature_, often lead to forgetfulness of duty both towards G.o.d and man, and do as much harm in the world as positive dishonesty."

NOTES.

Dr. Benjamin Franklin is well known as the friend of the poor and of liberty, and as one of the founders of American independence. The following observations will, with many persons, have additional weight, as coming from _his_ pen.

_Extract from Observations written in Pennsylvania in 1751._

2.--When families can be easily supported, more persons marry, and earlier in life.

3. In cities, where all trades, occupations, and offices are full, many delay marrying till they can see how to bear the charges of a family; which charges are greater in cities, as luxury is more common: many live single during life, and continue servants to families, journeymen to trades, &c. Hence cities do not, by natural generation, supply themselves with inhabitants; the deaths are more than the births.

4. In countries full settled, the case must be nearly the same, all lands being occupied and improved to the height; those who cannot get land, must labour for others that have it; when labourers are plenty, their wages will be low; by low wages a family is supported with difficulty; this difficulty deters many from marriage, who therefore long continue servants and single. Only, as the cities take supplies of people from the country, and thereby make a little more room in the country, marriage is a little more encouraged there, and the births exceed the deaths.

_Dr. Franklin's Letter on the Labouring Poor. Dated April, 1768._

_Sir,_

I have met with much invective in the papers, for these two years past, against the hard-heartedness of the rich, and much complaint of the great oppressions suffered in this country by the labouring poor. Will you admit a word or two on the other side of the question? I do not propose to be an advocate for oppression or oppressors; but when I see that the poor are, by such writings, exasperated against the rich, and excited to insurrections, by which much mischief is done, and some lose their lives, I could wish the true state of things were better understood; the poor not made by these busy writers more uneasy and unhappy than their situation subjects them to be, and the nation not brought into disrepute among foreigners, by public groundless accusations of ourselves, as if the rich in England had no compa.s.sion for the poor, and Englishmen wanted common humanity.

In justice, then, to this country, give me leave to remark, that the condition of the poor here is by far the best in Europe; for that, except in England and her American colonies, there is not in any country in the known world (not even in Scotland[q] or Ireland) a provision by law to enforce a support of the poor. Every where else necessity reduces to beggary.

This law was not made by the poor. The legislators were men of fortune. By that act they voluntarily subjected their own estates, and the estates of all others, to the payment of a tax for the support of the poor, enc.u.mbering those estates with a kind of rent charge for that purpose, whereby the poor are vested with an inheritance, as it were, in all the estates of the rich. I wish they were benefitted by this generous provision, in any degree equal to the good intention with which it was made, and is continued; but I fear the giving mankind a dependence on any thing for support, in age or sickness, besides industry and frugality during health, tends to flatter our natural indolence, to encourage idleness and prodigality, and thereby to promote and increase poverty, the very evil it was intended to cure; thus multiplying beggars, instead of diminishing them.

[Footnote q: This, I believe, is inaccurate.]

Besides this tax, which the rich in England have subjected themselves to in behalf of the poor, amounting in some places to five or six shillings in the pound of their annual income, they have, by donations and subscriptions, erected numerous schools in various parts of the kingdom, for educating, gratis, the children of the poor in reading and writing; and in many of these schools the children are also fed and clothed; they have erected hospitals at an immense expence, for the reception and cure of the sick, the lame, the wounded, and the insane poor, for lying-in women, and deserted children. They are also continually contributing towards making up losses occasioned by fire, by storms, or by floods; and to relieve the poor in severe seasons of frost, in time of scarcity, &c. in which benevolent and charitable contributions no nation exceeds us.

Surely there is some grat.i.tude due for so many instances of goodness.

Add to this all the laws made to discourage foreign manufactures, by laying heavy duties on them, or totally prohibiting them; whereby the rich are obliged to pay much higher prices for what they wear and consume than if the trade was open. There are so many laws for the support of our labouring poor made by the rich, and continued at their expence: all the difference of price between our own and foreign commodities, being so much given by our rich to our poor; who would indeed be enabled by it to get by degrees above poverty, if they did not, as too generally they do, consider every increase of wages only as something that enables them to drink more and work less; so that their distress in sickness, age, or times of scarcity, continues to be the same as if such laws had never been made in their favour.

Much malignant censure have some writers bestowed upon the rich for their luxury and expensive living, while the poor are starving, not considering that what the rich expend, the labouring poor receive in payment for their labour. It may seem a paradox if I should a.s.sert, that our labouring poor do, in every year, receive the _whole revenue of the nation_; I mean not only the public revenue, but also the revenue or clear income of all private estates, or a sum equivalent to the whole. In support of this position, I reason thus: The rich do not work for one another; their habitations, furniture, clothing, carriages, food, ornaments, and every thing, in short, that they or their families use and consume, is the work or produce of the labouring poor, who are, and must be, continually paid for their labour in producing the same. In these payments the revenues of private estates are expended; for most people live up to their incomes. In clothing, or provision for troops, in arms, ammunition, ships, tents, carriages, &c. &c. (every particular the produce of labour,) much of the public revenue is expended. The pay of officers, civil and military, and of the private soldiers and sailors, requires the rest; and they spend that also in paying for what is produced by the labouring poor. I allow that some estates may increase by the owners spending less than their income; but then I conceive, that other estates do at the same time diminish, by the owners spending more than their incomes; so that when the enriched want to buy more land, they easily find lands in the hands of the impoverished, whose necessities oblige them to sell; and thus this difference is equalled. I allow also, that part of the expense of the rich is in foreign produce, or manufactures, for producing which the labouring poor of other nations must be paid: but then, I say, we must first pay our own labouring poor for an equal quant.i.ty of our manufactures or produce, to exchange for those foreign productions, or we must pay for them in money, which money not being a natural produce to our country, must first be purchased from abroad, by sending out its value in the produce or manufactures of this country, for which manufactures our labouring poor are to be paid. And, indeed, if we did not export more than we import, we could have no money at all. I allow farther, that there are middle men, who make a profit, and even get estates, by purchasing the labour of the poor, and selling it at advanced prices to the rich; but then they cannot enjoy that profit, or the increase of estates, but by spending them in employing and paying our labouring poor, in some shape or other, for the products of industry. Even beggars, pensioners, hospitals, &c. all that are supported by charity, spend their incomes in the same manner. So that finally, as I said at first, our labouring poor receive annually the whole of the clear revenues of the nation, and from us they can have no more.

If it be said that their wages are too low, and that they ought to be better paid for their labour, I heartily wish that any means could be fallen upon to do it consistent with their interest and happiness; but as the cheapness of other things is owing to the plenty of those things, so the cheapness of labour is in most cases owing to the mult.i.tude of labourers, and to their underworking one another in order to obtain employment.

How is this to be remedied? A law might be made to raise their wages; but if our manufactures are too dear, they will not vend abroad, and all that part of employment will fail, unless, by fighting and conquering, we compel other nations to buy our goods, whether they will or no, which some have been mad enough at times to propose. Among ourselves, unless we give our working people less employment, how can we, for what they do, pay them higher than we do? Out of what fund is the additional price of labour to be paid, when all our present incomes are, as it were, mortgaged to them? Should they get higher wages, would that make them less poor, if in consequence they worked fewer days of the week proportionably? I have said, a law might be made to raise their wages; but I doubt much, whether it could be executed to any purpose, unless another law, now indeed almost obsolete, could at the same time be revived and enforced; a law, I mean, that I have often heard and repeated, but few have ever duly considered, _Six days shalt thou labour_. This is as positive a part of the Commandment, as that which says, _The seventh day thou shalt rest_: but we remember well to observe the indulgent part, and never think of the other. _Saint Monday_[r] is generally as duly kept by our working people as Sunday: the only difference is, that instead of employing it cheaply at church, they are wasting it expensively at the alehouse.

I am, Sir, your's, &c.

[Footnote r: This applies not so much to farmers' workmen as to _manufacturers'_ labourers.]

_Extract from Dr. Franklin's remarks on Luxury, Idleness, and Industry._

Some of those who grow rich will be prudent, live within bounds, and preserve what they have gained for their posterity: others, fond of shewing their wealth, will be extravagant, and ruin themselves. Laws cannot prevent this; and perhaps it is not always an evil to the public.

A shilling spent idly by a fool, may be picked up by a wiser person, who knows better what to do with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain silly fellow builds a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and in a few years ruins himself: but the masons, carpenters, smiths, and other honest tradesmen, have been by his employ a.s.sisted in maintaining and raising their families: the farmer has been paid for his labour, and encouraged, and the estate is now in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the same manner as it is a private one.

THE END.