In Darkest England and The Way Out [121]
and probably always will; but what we can do is to circumscribe the range of their operations and the number of their victims. This can only be done by a legitimate and merciful provision for these poor creatures in their hours of desperate need, so as to prevent their falling into the hands of these remorseless wretches, who have wrecked the fortunes of thousands, and driven many a decent man to suicide or a premature grave.
There are endless ramifications of this principle, which do not need to be described here, but before leaving the subject I may allude to an evil which is a cruel reality, alas! to a multitude of unfortunate men and women. I refer to the working of the Hire System. The decent poor man or woman who is anxious to earn an honest penny by the use of, it may be a mangle, or a sewing-machine, a lathe, or some other indispensable instrument, and is without the few pounds necessary to buy it, must take it on the Hire System--that is to say, for the accommodation of being allowed to pay for the machine by instalments-- he is charged, in addition to the full market value of his purchase, ten or twenty times the amount of what would be a fair rate of interest, and more than this if he should at any time, through misfortune, fail in his payment, the total amount already paid will be confiscated, the machine seized, and the money lost.
Here again we fall back on our analogy of what goes on in a small community where neighbours know each other. Take, for instance, when a lad who is recognised as bright, promising, honest, and industrious, who wants to make a start in life which requires some little outlay, his better-to-do neighbour will often assist him by providing the capital necessary to enable him to make a way for himself in the world. The neighbour does this because he knows the lad, because the family is at least related by ties of neighbourhood, and the honour of the lad's family is a security upon which a man may safely advance a small sum. All this would equally apply to a destitute widow, an artizan suddenly thrown out of work, an orphan family, or the like. In the large City all this kindly helpfulness disappears, and with it go all those small acts of service which are, as it were, the buffers which save men from being crushed to death against the iron walls of circumstances. We must try to replace them in some way or other if we are to get back, not to the Garden of Eden, but to the ordinary conditions of life, as they exist in a healthy, small community. No institution, it is true, can ever replace the magic bond of personal friendship, but if we have the whole mass of Society permeated in every direction by brotherly associations established for the purpose of mutual help and sympathising counsel, it is not an impossible thing to believe that we shall be able to do something to restore the missing element in modern civilisation.
SECTION 4.--THE POOR MAN'S LAWYER.
The moment you set about dealing with the wants of the people, you discover that many of their difficulties are not material, but moral. There never was a greater mistake than to imagine that you have only to fill a man's stomach, and clothe his back in order to secure his happiness. Man is, much more than a digestive apparatus, liable to get out of order. Hence, while it is important to remember that man has a stomach, it is also necessary to bear in mind that he has a heart, and a mind that is frequently sorely troubled by difficulties which, if he lived in a friendly world, would often disappear. A man, and still more a woman, stands often quite as much in need of a trusted adviser as he or she does of a dinner or a dress. Many a poor soul is miserable all the day long, and gets dragged down deeper and deeper into the depths of sin and sorrow and despair for want of a sympathising friend, who can give her advice, and make her feel that somebody in the world cares for her, and will help her if they can.
If we are to bring back the sense of brotherhood to the world, we must confront this difficulty. God, it
There are endless ramifications of this principle, which do not need to be described here, but before leaving the subject I may allude to an evil which is a cruel reality, alas! to a multitude of unfortunate men and women. I refer to the working of the Hire System. The decent poor man or woman who is anxious to earn an honest penny by the use of, it may be a mangle, or a sewing-machine, a lathe, or some other indispensable instrument, and is without the few pounds necessary to buy it, must take it on the Hire System--that is to say, for the accommodation of being allowed to pay for the machine by instalments-- he is charged, in addition to the full market value of his purchase, ten or twenty times the amount of what would be a fair rate of interest, and more than this if he should at any time, through misfortune, fail in his payment, the total amount already paid will be confiscated, the machine seized, and the money lost.
Here again we fall back on our analogy of what goes on in a small community where neighbours know each other. Take, for instance, when a lad who is recognised as bright, promising, honest, and industrious, who wants to make a start in life which requires some little outlay, his better-to-do neighbour will often assist him by providing the capital necessary to enable him to make a way for himself in the world. The neighbour does this because he knows the lad, because the family is at least related by ties of neighbourhood, and the honour of the lad's family is a security upon which a man may safely advance a small sum. All this would equally apply to a destitute widow, an artizan suddenly thrown out of work, an orphan family, or the like. In the large City all this kindly helpfulness disappears, and with it go all those small acts of service which are, as it were, the buffers which save men from being crushed to death against the iron walls of circumstances. We must try to replace them in some way or other if we are to get back, not to the Garden of Eden, but to the ordinary conditions of life, as they exist in a healthy, small community. No institution, it is true, can ever replace the magic bond of personal friendship, but if we have the whole mass of Society permeated in every direction by brotherly associations established for the purpose of mutual help and sympathising counsel, it is not an impossible thing to believe that we shall be able to do something to restore the missing element in modern civilisation.
SECTION 4.--THE POOR MAN'S LAWYER.
The moment you set about dealing with the wants of the people, you discover that many of their difficulties are not material, but moral. There never was a greater mistake than to imagine that you have only to fill a man's stomach, and clothe his back in order to secure his happiness. Man is, much more than a digestive apparatus, liable to get out of order. Hence, while it is important to remember that man has a stomach, it is also necessary to bear in mind that he has a heart, and a mind that is frequently sorely troubled by difficulties which, if he lived in a friendly world, would often disappear. A man, and still more a woman, stands often quite as much in need of a trusted adviser as he or she does of a dinner or a dress. Many a poor soul is miserable all the day long, and gets dragged down deeper and deeper into the depths of sin and sorrow and despair for want of a sympathising friend, who can give her advice, and make her feel that somebody in the world cares for her, and will help her if they can.
If we are to bring back the sense of brotherhood to the world, we must confront this difficulty. God, it