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diff --git a/31710-8.txt b/31710-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e602d14 --- /dev/null +++ b/31710-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8668 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hills and the Vale, by Richard Jefferies + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hills and the Vale + +Author: Richard Jefferies + +Commentator: Edward Thomas + +Release Date: March 20, 2010 [EBook #31710] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HILLS AND THE VALE *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: In a few places the book has the letter T +printed in a sans-serif font to indicate the shape of the letter. +This has been reproduced as [T] below. + + + + + THE HILLS AND THE VALE + + + + + _All rights reserved_ + + + + + THE HILLS AND THE VALE + + + BY + RICHARD JEFFERIES + + + WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY + EDWARD THOMAS + + + LONDON: DUCKWORTH & CO. + 3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN + 1909 + + + + + TO + JOHN WILLIAMS + OF WAUN WEN + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + + INTRODUCTION ix + + CHOOSING A GUN 1 + + SKATING 22 + + MARLBOROUGH FOREST 27 + + VILLAGE CHURCHES 35 + + BIRDS OF SPRING 43 + + THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 54 + + VIGNETTES FROM NATURE 70 + + A KING OF ACRES 79 + + THE STORY OF SWINDON 104 + + UNEQUAL AGRICULTURE 134 + + VILLAGE ORGANIZATION 151 + + THE IDLE EARTH 207 + + AFTER THE COUNTY FRANCHISE 224 + + THE WILTSHIRE LABOURER 247 + + ON THE DOWNS 270 + + THE SUN AND THE BROOK 280 + + NATURE AND ETERNITY 284 + + THE DAWN 306 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +This book consists of three unpublished essays and of fifteen +reprinted from _Longman's Magazine_, _Fraser's Magazine_, the _New +Quarterly_, _Knowledge_, _Chambers's Magazine_, the _Graphic_, and +the _Standard_, where they have probably been little noticed since +the time of their appearance. Several more volumes of this size +might have been made by collecting all the articles which were not +reprinted in Jefferies' lifetime, or in 'Field and Hedgerow' and +'Toilers of the Field,' shortly after his death. But the work in +such volumes could only have attracted those very few of the +omnivorous lovers of Jefferies who have not already found it out. +After the letters on the Wiltshire labourer, addressed to the +_Times_ in 1872, he wrote nothing that was not perhaps at the time +his best, but, being a journalist, he had often to deal immediately, +and in a transitory manner, with passing events, or to empty a page +or two of his note-books in response to an impulse assuredly no +higher than habit or necessity. Many of these he passed over or +rejected in making up volumes of essays for publication; some he +certainly included. Of those he passed over, some are equal to the +best, or all but the best, of those which he admitted, and I think +these will be found in 'The Hills and the Vale.' There are others +which need more excuse. The two early papers on 'Marlborough Forest' +and 'Village Churches,' which were quoted in Besant's 'Eulogy,' are +interesting on account of their earliness (1875), and charming +enough to please those who read all Jefferies' books. 'The Story of +Swindon,' 'Unequal Agriculture,' and 'Village Organization,' will be +valued for their matter, and because they are examples of his +writing, and of his interests and opinions, before he was thirty. +That they are partly out of date is true, but they are worth +remembering by the student of Jefferies and of his times; they do +credit to his insight and even to his foresight; and there is still +upon them, here and there, some ungathered fruit. The later +agricultural articles, 'The Idle Earth,' 'After the County +Franchise,' and 'The Wiltshire Labourer,' are the work of his ripe +years. There were also several papers published not only after his +death, but after the posthumous collections. I have included all of +these, for none of them needs defence, while 'Nature and Eternity' +ranks with his finest work. The three papers now for the first time +printed might have been, but are not, admitted on that ground alone. +'On Choosing a Gun' and 'Skating' belong to the period of 'The +Amateur Poacher,' and are still alive, and too good to destroy. 'The +Dawn' is beautiful. + +Among these eighteen papers are examples from nearly every kind +and period of Jefferies' work, though his earliest writing is +still decently interred where it was born, in Wiltshire and +Gloucestershire papers (chiefly the _North Wilts Herald_), except +such as was disinterred by the late Miss Toplis for 'Jefferies +Land,' 'T.T.T.,' and 'The Early Fiction of Richard Jefferies.' +From his early youth Jefferies was a reporter in the north of +Wiltshire and south of Gloucestershire, at political and +agricultural meetings, elections, police-courts, markets, and +Boards of Guardians. He inquired privately or officially into the +history of the Great Western Railway works at New Swindon, of the +local churches and families, of ancient monuments, and he +announced the facts with such reflections as came to him, or might +be expected from him, in newspaper articles, papers read before +the Wiltshire Archæological Society, and in a booklet on 'The +Goddards of North Wilts.' As reporter, archæologist, and +sportsman, he was continually walking to and fro across the vale +and over the downs; or writing down what he saw, for the most part +in a manner dictated by the writing of other men engaged in the +same way; or reading everything that came in his way, but +especially natural history, chronicles, and Greek philosophy in +English translations. He was bred entirely on English, and in a +very late paper he could be so hazy about the meaning of +'illiterate' as to say that the labourers 'never were illiterate +mentally; they are now no more illiterate in the partial sense of +book-knowledge.' He tried his hand at topical humour, and again +and again at short sensational tales. But until he was twenty-four +he wrote nothing which could have suggested that he was much above +the cleverer young men of the same calling. There was nothing fine +or strong in his writing. His researches were industrious, but not +illuminated. If his range of reading was uncommon, it gave him +only some quotations of no exceptional felicity. His point of view +could have given no cause for admiration or alarm. And yet he was +not considered an ordinary young man, being apparently idle, +ambitious, discontented, and morose, and certainly unsociable and +negligently dressed. He walked about night and day, chiefly alone +and with a noticeable long stride. But if he was ambitious, it was +only that he desired success--the success of a writer, and +probably a novelist, in the public eye. His possessions were the +fruits of his wandering, his self-chosen books and a sensitive, +solitary temperament. He might have been described as a clever +young man, well-informed, a little independent, not first-rate at +shorthand, and yet possibly too good for his place; and the +description would have been all that was possible to anyone not +intimate with him, and there was no one intimate with him but +himself. He had as yet neither a manner nor a matter of his own. +It is not clear from anything remaining that he had discovered +that writing could be something more than a means of making party +views plausible or information picturesque. In 1867, at the age of +nineteen, he opened a description of Swindon as follows: + + 'Whenever a man imbued with republican politics and + progressionist views ascends the platform and delivers an + oration, it is a safe wager that he makes some allusion at least + to Chicago, the famous mushroom city of the United States, which + sprang up in a night, and thirty years ago consisted of a dozen + miserable fishermen's huts, and now counts over two hundred + thousand inhabitants. Chicago! Chicago! look at Chicago! and see + in its development the vigour which invariably follows + republican institutions.... Men need not go so far from their + own doors to see another instance of rapid expansion and + development which has taken place under a monarchical + government. The Swindon of to-day is almost ridiculously + disproportioned to the Swindon of forty years ago....' + +Eight years later Jefferies rewrote 'The Story of Swindon' as it is +given in this book, and the allusion to Chicago was reduced to this: + + 'The workmen required food; tradesmen came and supplied that + food, and Swindon rose as Chicago rose, as if by magic.' + +Yet it is certain that in 1867 Jefferies was already carrying about +with him an experience and a power which were to ripen very slowly +into something unique. He was observing; he was developing a sense +of the beauty in Nature, in humanity, in thought, and the arts; and +he was 'not more than eighteen when an inner and esoteric meaning +began to come to him from all the visible universe, and undefinable +aspirations filled him.' + +In 1872 he discovered part of his power almost in its perfection. He +wrote several letters to the _Times_ about the Wiltshire labourer, +and they were lucid, simple, moderate, founded on his own +observation, and arranged in a telling, harmonious manner. What he +said and thought about the labourers then is of no great importance +now, and even in 1872 it was only a journalist's grain in the scale +against the labourer's agitation. But it was admirably done. It was +clear, easy writing, and a clear, easy writer he was thenceforth to +the end. + +These letters procured for him admission to _Fraser's_ and other +magazines, and he now began for them a long series of articles, +mainly connected with the land and those who work on the land. He +had now freedom and space to put on paper something of what he had +seen and thought. The people, their homes, and their fields, he +described and criticized with moderation and some spirit. He showed +that he saw more things than most writing men, but it was in an +ordinary light, in the same way as most of the readers whom he +addressed. His gravity, tenderness and courage were discernible, but +the articles were not more than a clever presentation of a set of +facts and an intelligent, lucid point of view, which were good grist +to the mills of that decade. They had neither the sagacity nor the +passion which could have helped that calm style to make literature. + +'The Story of Swindon' (_Fraser's_, May, 1875) is one of three or +four articles which Jefferies wrote at that time on a subject not +purely his own. As a journalist he had had to do a hundred things +for which he had no strong natural taste. This article is a good +example of his adaptable gifts. He was probably equal to grappling +with any set of facts and ideas at the word of command. In 'coming +to this very abode of the Cyclops' the _North Wilts Herald_ reporter +survives, and nothing could be more like everybody else than the +phrasing and the atmosphere of the greater part, as in 'the ten +minutes for refreshment, now in the case of certain trains reduced +to five, have made thousands of travellers familiar with the name of +the spot.' This is probably due to lack not so much of skill as of +developed personality. When he describes and states facts, he is +lucid and forcible; when he reflects or decorates, he is often showy +or ill at ease, or both, though the thought on p. 130 is valid +enough. Through the cold, colourless light between him and the +object, he saw and remembered clearly; short of creativeness, he was +a master--or one of those skilled servants who appear masters--of +words. The power is, at this distance, more worthy of attention than +the achievement. The power of retaining and handling facts was one +which he never lost, but it was absorbed and even concealed among +powers of later development, when reality was a richer thing to him +than is to be surmised from anything in 'The Story of Swindon.' + +'Unequal Agriculture' (_Fraser's_, May, 1877) and 'Village +Organization' (_New Quarterly_, October, 1875) belong to the same +period. They describe and debate matters which are now not so new, +though often as debatable. The description is sometimes felicitous, +as in the 'steady jerk' of the sower's arm, but is not destined for +immortality; and the picture of a steam-plough at work he himself +surpassed in a later paper. But it is sufficiently vivid to survive +for another generation. Since Cobbett no keener agriculturist's eye +or better pen had surveyed North Wiltshire. The most advanced and +the most antiquated style of farming remain the same in our own day. +Whether these articles were commissioned or not, their form and +direction was probably dictated as much by the expressed or supposed +needs of the magazine as by Jefferies himself. His own line was not +yet clear and strong, and he consciously or unconsciously adopted +one which was a compromise between his own and that of his +contemporaries. In fact, it is hard in places to tell whether he is +expressing his own opinion or those of the farmers whom he has +consulted; and he still writes as one of an agricultural community +who is to remain in it. But many of the suggestions in 'Village +Organization' may still be found stimulating, and the inactivity of +men in country parishes is not yet in need of further description; +while the fact that 'the great centres of population have almost +entirely occupied the attention of our legislators of late years' is +still only fitfully perceived. It should be noticed, also, that he +is true to himself and his later self, if not in his valiant +asseveration of the farmer's sturdy independence, yet in the wish +that there should be an authority to 'cause a parish to be supplied +with good drinking water,' or that there should be a tank, 'the +public property of the village.' + +To 'Unequal Agriculture' the editor of _Fraser's Magazine_ appended +a note, saying that if England were to be brought to such a pitch of +perfection under scientific cultivation as Jefferies desired, 'a few +of us would then prefer to go away and live elsewhere.' And there is +no doubt that he was carried away by his subject into an +indiscriminate optimism, for he turned upon it sadly and with equal +firmness in later life. But the writing is beyond that of the +letters to the _Times_, and in the sentences-- + + 'The plough is drawn by dull, patient oxen, plodding onwards now + just as they were depicted upon the tombs and temples, the + graves and worshipping-places, of races who had their being + three thousand years ago. Think of the suns that have shone + since then; of the summers and the bronzed grain waving in the + wind; of the human teeth that have ground that grain, and are + now hidden in the abyss of earth; yet still the oxen plod on, + like slow Time itself, here this day in our land of steam and + telegraph' + +--in these sentences, though they are commonplace enough, there is +proof that the writer already had that curious consciousness of the +past which was to give so deep a tone to many of his pages later on. +But in these papers, again, what is most noticeable is the practical +knowledge and the power of handling practical things. Though he +himself, brought up on his father's farm, had no taste for farming, +and seldom did any practical work except splitting timber, he yet +confines himself severely to things as they are, or as they may +quickly be made to become by a patching-up. These are 'practical +politics for practical men.' Consequently the clear and forcible +writing is only better in degree than other writing of the moment +with an element of controversy, and represents not the whole truth, +but an aspect of selected portions of the truth. When it is turned +to other purposes it shows a poor grace, as in 'a widespread ocean +of wheat, an English gold-field, a veritable Yellow Sea, bowing in +waves before the southern breeze--a sight full of peaceful poetry;' +and the sluggish, customary euphemism of phrases like 'a few calves +find their way to the butcher' is tedious enough. + +'The Idle Earth' (_Longman's_, December, 1894), 'After the County +Franchise' (_Longman's_, February, 1884), and 'The Wiltshire +Labourer' (_Longman's_, 1887), belong to Jefferies' later years. +'The Idle Earth' was published only after his death, but, like the +other two, was written, probably, between 1884 and 1887. He was no +longer writing as a practical man, but as a critical outsider with +an inside knowledge. 'The Idle Earth' is an astonishing +curiosity--an extreme example of Jefferies' discontent with things +as they are. 'Why is it,' he asks, 'that this cry arises that +agriculture will not pay?... The answer is simple enough. It is +because the earth is idle one-third of the year.' He looks round a +January field and sees 'not an animal in sight, not a single +machine for making money, not a penny being turned.' He wishes to +know, 'What would a manufacturer think of a business in which he was +compelled to let his engines rest for a third of the year?' Then he +falls upon the miserable Down-land because that is still more idle +and still less productive. 'With all its progress,' he cries, 'how +little real advance has agriculture made! All because of the +stubborn, idle earth.' It is a genuine cry, to be paralleled by +'Life is short, art long,' and by his own wonder that 'in twelve +thousand written years the world has not yet built itself a House, +unfilled a Granary, nor organized itself for its own comfort,' by +his contempt for 'this little petty life of seventy years,' and for +the short sleep permitted to men. + +The editor of _Longman's_ had to explain that, in publishing 'After +the County Franchise,' he was not really 'overstepping the limit +which he laid down in undertaking to keep _Longman's Magazine_ free +from the strife of party politics, because it might be profitable to +consider what changes this Bill will make, when it becomes law, in +the lives and the social relations of our rural population.' It was +true that Jefferies was no longer a party politician. He was by that +time above and before either party. He is so still, and the +reappearance of these no longer novel ideas is excusable simply +because Jefferies' name is likely to gain for them still more of the +consideration and support which they deserve, for it may be hoped +that our day is ready to receive the seed of trouble and advance +contained in the modest suggestion which he believed to be +compatible with 'the acquisition of public and the preservation of +private liberty.' + + ['We now govern our village ourselves;] why should we not + possess our village? Why should we not live in our own houses? + Why should we not have a little share in the land, as much, at + least, as we can pay for?... Can an owner of this kind of + property be permitted to refuse to sell? Must he be compelled to + sell?' + +Twenty-five years ago Jefferies, knowing that neither land nor +cottages were to be had, that there was no security of tenure for +the labourer, hoped for the day when 'some, at least, of our people +may be able to set up homes for themselves in their own country.' He +believed that 'the greater his freedom, the greater his attachment +to home, the more settled the labourer,' the firmer would become the +position of labourer, farmer, and landowner. Yet an advanced +reformer of our own day--Mr. Montague Fordham in 'Mother Earth'--has +still to cry the same thing in the wilderness; and it is still true +that 'you cannot have a fixed population unless it has a home, and +the labouring population is practically homeless.' On the other +hand, it should be remembered that Jefferies also says: 'Parks and +woods are becoming of priceless value; we should have to preserve a +few landowners, if only to have parks and woods.' + +These later articles are far more persuasive than their +predecessors, for here there is no doubt, not merely that they are +sincere, but that they are the unprejudiced opinion of the man as +well as of the agriculturist. He has ceased to be concerned only +with things as they are, or as they may be made to-morrow. He allows +himself to think as much of justice as of expediency, of what is +fitting as well as of what is at once possible. The phrases, +'Sentiment is more stubborn than fact,' 'Service is no inheritance,' +'I do not want any paupers,' 'I should not like men under my thumb,' +'Men demanding to be paid in full for full work, but refusing +favours and petty assistance to be recouped hereafter; ... men with +the franchise, voting under the protection of the ballot, and voting +first and foremost for the demolition of the infernal Poor Law and +workhouse system'--these simple phrases fall with peculiar and even +pathetic force, in their context, from the mystic optimist whom pain +was ripening fast in those last years. Even here he uses phrases +like 'the serious work which brings in money' and commends 'push and +enterprise' as a substitute for 'the slow plodding manner of the +labourer.' But these are exceptional. As to the writing itself, of +which this is an example, + + 'By home life I mean that which gathers about a house, however + small, standing in its own grounds. Something comes into + existence about such a house, an influence, a pervading feeling, + like some warm colour softening the whole, tinting the lichen on + the wall, even the very smoke-marks on the chimney. It is home, + and the men and women born there will never lose the tone it has + given them. Such homes are the strength of a land' + +--it remains simple; but by the use of far fewer words, and of fewer +orator's phrases, its unadorned directness has almost a positive +spiritual quality. + +But these agricultural essays, good as they were, and absorbing as +they did all of Jefferies' social thoughts to the end of his life, +became less and less frequent as he grew less inclined and less able +to adapt his mind and style to the affairs of the moment. + +In the same year as 'The Story of Swindon' he published 'Village +Churches' and 'Marlborough Forest' (_Graphic_, December 4 and +October 23, 1875). These and his unsuccessful novels remain to show +the direction of his more intimate thoughts in the third decade of +his life. They are as imperfect in their class as 'The Story of +Swindon' is perfect in its own. They are the earliest of their kind +from Jefferies' pen which have survived. He is dealing already with +another and a more individual kind of reality, and he is not yet at +home with it in words. He approaches it with ceremony--with the +ceremony of phrases like 'the great painter Autumn,' 'a very tiger +to the rabbit,' 'the titles and pomp of belted earl and knight.' But +here for the first time he is so bent upon himself and his object +that he casts only an occasional glance upon his audience, whereas +in his practical papers he has it continually in view, or even ready +to jog his elbow if he dreams. The full English hedges, which he +condemns as an agriculturist, he would now save from the modern +Goths; he can even be sorry for the death of beautiful jays. Here, +for the first time, it might occur to a student of the man that he +is more than his words express. He does not see Nature as he sees +the factory, and when he and Nature touch there is an emotional +discharge which blurs the sight, though presently it is to enrich +it. As yet we cannot be sure whether he is perfectly genuine or is +striving for an effect based upon a recollection of someone +else--probably it is both--when he writes: + + 'The heart has a yearning for the unknown, a longing to + penetrate the deep shadow and the winding glade, where, as it + seems, no human foot has been'; + +when he speaks of the '_visible_ silence' of the old church, or +exclaims: + + 'To us, each hour is of consequence, especially in this modern + day, which has invented the detestable creed that time is money. + But time is not money to Nature. She never hastens....' + +But already he is expressing a thought, which he was often to repeat +in his maturity and in his best work, when he says of the +church-bell that 'In the day when this bell was made, men put their +souls into their works. Their one great object was not to turn out +100,000 all alike.' + +It was in the next year, 1876, that he began to think of using his +observation and feeling in a 'chatty style,' of setting down 'some +of the glamour--the magic of sunshine, and green things, and clear +waters.' But it was not until 1878 that he succeeded in doing so. +In 'The Amateur Poacher' and its companions, there was not between +Jefferies and Nature the colourless, clear light of the factory or +the journalist's workshop, but the tender English atmosphere or, if +you like, that of the happy and thoughtful mind which had grown up +in that atmosphere. + +'Choosing a Gun' and 'Skating' belong to the period, if not the +year, of 'The Amateur Poacher.' In fact, the passage about the +pleasure of having the freedom of the woods with a wheel-lock, is +either a first draft of one of the best in that book, or it is an +unconscious repetition. Here again is a characteristic complaint +that 'the leading idea of the gunmaker nowadays is to turn out a +hundred thousand guns of one particular pattern.' The suggestion +that some clever workman should go and set himself up in some +village is one that has been followed in other trades, and is not +yet exhausted. The writing is now excellent of its kind, but for the +word 'Metropolis' and the phrase 'no great distance from' Pall Mall. +The negligent--but slowly acquired--conversational simplicity +captures the open air as calmly and pleasantly as the humour of the +city dialogue. + +'Skating' is slight enough, but ends with grace and an unsought +solemnity which comes more and more into his later writing, so that +in 'The Spring of the Year' (_Longman's_, June, 1894), after many +notes about wood-pigeons, there comes such a genuine landscape as +this: + + 'The bare, slender tips of the birches on which they perched + exposed them against the sky. Once six alighted on a long + birch-branch, bending it down with their weight, not unlike a + heavy load of fruit. As the stormy sunset flamed up, tinting the + fields with momentary red, their hollow voices sounded among the + trees.' + +These notes for April and May, 1881, were continued in 'The Coming +of Summer,' which forms part of 'Toilers of the Field.' This +informal chitchat, addressed chiefly to the amateur naturalist, +became an easy habit with Jefferies. The talk is of the plainest and +pleasantest here, and full of himself. With his 'I like sparrows,' +he was an older and tenderer man than in 'The Gamekeeper' period. +The paper gives some idea of his habits and haunts round about +Surbiton before the fatal chain of illnesses began at the end of +this year. Personally, I like to know that it was finished on May +10, 1881, at midnight, with 'Antares visible, the summer star,' very +low in the south-east above Banstead Downs, and Lyra and Arcturus +high above in the south, if Jefferies was writing at Tolworth, as +presumably he was. This paper is to be preferred to 'Birds of +Spring'--likeable mainly for the pages on the chiff-chaff and +sedge-warbler--which does much the same thing, in a more formal +manner, for the instruction of readers of _Chambers's_ (March, +1884), who wished to know about our 'feathered visitors.' + +'Vignettes from Nature' were posthumously published in _Longman's_ +(July, 1895). They abound in touches from the depth and tenderness +of his nature, and when they were written Jefferies had passed into +the most distinct period of his life--the period which gave birth to +his mature ideas, and, in particular, to 'The Story of My Heart.' +The light which he had carried about with him since his youth--a +light so faint that we cannot be sure he was aware of it in +retrospect--now leaped up with a mystic significance. Professor +William James, in 'Varieties of Religious Experience,' describes +four marks by which states of mind may be recognized as mystical. +The subject says that they defy expression. They are 'states of +insight into depths of truth unplumbed by the discursive intellect +... and, as a rule, they carry with them a curious sense of +authority for after-time,' because the mystic believes that 'we both +become one with the Absolute, and we become aware of our oneness.' +They 'cannot be sustained for long ... except in rare instances half +an hour, or at most an hour or two, seems to be the limit beyond +which they fade into the light of common day.' And when the mystic +consciousness has set in, 'the mystic feels as if his own will were +in abeyance, and, indeed, sometimes as if he were grasped and held +by a superior power.' Most of the striking cases in Professor +James's collection occurred out of doors. These marks may all be +recognized in Jefferies' record of his own experience--'The Story +of My Heart.' Yet it was, in the opinion of a very high +authority--Dr. Maurice Bucke, in 'Cosmic Consciousness'--an +imperfect experience, and his state is described as 'the twilight +of cosmic consciousness.' Dr. Bucke gives as the marks of the +cosmic sense--a subjective light on its appearance; moral +elevation; intellectual illumination; the sense of immortality; +loss of the fear of death and of the sense of sin; the suddenness +of the awakening which takes place usually at a little past the +thirtieth year, and comes only to noble characters (_e.g._, Pascal, +Blake, Balzac, and Whitman); a charm added to the personality; a +transfiguration of the subject in the eyes of others when the +cosmic sense is actually present. Jefferies appears to have lacked +the subjective light and the full sense of immortality. 'If,' says +Dr. Bucke, 'he had attained to cosmic consciousness, he would have +entered into eternal life, and there would be no "seems" about it;' +while he finds positive evidence against Jefferies' possession of +the perfect cosmic sense in his 'contempt for the assertion that +all things occur for the best.' The sense varied in intensity with +Jefferies, and in its everyday force was not much more than +Kingsley's 'innate feeling that everything I see has a meaning, if +I could but understand it,' which 'feeling of being surrounded with +truths which I cannot grasp amounts to indescribable awe +sometimes.' + +Cosmic consciousness, the half-grasped power which gave its +significance to his autobiography, to 'The Dawn,' 'The Sun and the +Brook' (_Knowledge_, October 13, 1882), 'On the Downs' (_Standard_, +March 23, 1883), 'Nature and Eternity' (_Longman's_, May, 1895), and +many other papers, may have been the faculty for which Jefferies +prayed in 'The Story of My Heart,' and to which he desired that +mankind should advance. In Dr. Bucke's view, an imperfectly +supported one, men with this faculty are becoming more and more +common, and he thinks that 'our descendants will sooner or later +reach, as a race, the condition of cosmic consciousness, just as +long ago our ancestors passed from simple to self consciousness.' + +In Jefferies the development of this sense was gradual. Phrases +suggesting that it is in progress may be found in earlier books--in +the novels, in 'Wood Magic' and 'Bevis'--but 'The Story of My +Heart' is the first that is inspired by it; and after that, all his +best work is affected either by the same fervour and solemnity, or +by its accompanying ideas, or by both. It is to be detected in many +sentences in 'Vignettes,' and in the concluding prayer, 'Let the +heart come out from the shadow of roofs to the open glow of the +sky...'--even in the plea to the mechanics in 'A King of Acres' +(_Chambers's_, January, 1884) not to 'pin their faith to any theory +born and sprung up among the crushed and pale-faced life of modern +time, but to look for themselves at the sky above the highest +branches ... that they might gather to themselves some of the +leaves--mental and spiritual leaves--of the ancient forest, feeling +nearer to the truth and soul, as it were, that lives on in it.' It +is in the aspiration and hope--in the sense of 'hovering on the +verge of a great truth,' of 'a meaning waiting in the grass and +water,' of a 'wider existence yet to be enjoyed on the earth'--in +the 'increased consciousness of our own life,' gained from sun and +sky and sea--it is everywhere in 'Sun and Brook' and 'On the +Downs.' It suffuses the sensuous delicacy and exuberance and the +spiritual joy of 'Nature and Eternity.' That paper belongs to, and +in a measure corrects, 'The Story of My Heart.' There is less +eloquence than in the autobiography, and a greater proportion of +that beautiful simplicity that is so spiritual when combined with +the characteristic cadence of Jefferies at his best. The mystic has +a view of things by which all knowledge becomes real--or +disappears--and all things are seen related to the whole in a +manner which gives a wonderful value to the least of them. The +combination of sensuousness and spiritual aspiration in this and +other essays produces a beauty perhaps peculiar to Jefferies--often +a vague beauty imperfectly adumbrated, as was the meaning of the +universe itself in his mood of 'thoughts without words, mobile like +the stream, nothing compact that can be grasped and stayed: dreams +that slip silently as water slips through the fingers.' In 'Nature +and Eternity' this is all the more impressive because Coate Farm +and its fields, Jefferies' birthplace and early home, is the scene +of it. That beauty haunts the last four essays of this book as it +haunts 'The Story of My Heart,' like a theme of music, always a +repetition, and yet never exactly the same. 'The Dawn' is one of +the most beautiful things which Jefferies wrote after his +awakening. The cadences are his best--gentle, wistful, not quite +certain cadences, where the effect of the mere sound cannot be +detached from the effect of the thought hovering behind the sound. +How they kindle such a passage as this, where Jefferies again +brings before us his sense of past time!-- + + 'But though so familiar, that spectral light in the silence has + never lost its meaning, the violets are sweet year by year + though never so many summers pass away; indeed, its meaning + grows wider and more difficult as the time goes on. For think, + this spectre of light--light's double-ganger--has stood by the + couch of every human being for thousands and thousands of years. + Sleeping or waking, happily dreaming, or wrenched with pain, + whether they have noticed it or not, the finger of this light + has pointed towards them. When they were building the pyramids, + five thousand years ago, straight the arrow of light shot from + the sun, lit their dusky forms, and glowed on the endless + sand....' + +The whole essay is delicately perfect--as free from the spiritual +eloquence of the autobiography and from the rhetoric of the +agricultural papers as from the everyday atmosphere of earlier work +and the decoration of the first outdoor essays. It is pure spirit. +Take any passage, and it will be seen that in thought and style +Jefferies' evolution is now complete. He has mounted from being a +member of a class, at first undistinguishable from it, then clearly +more enlightened, but still of it, and seeing things in the same +way, up to the position of a poet with an outlook that is purely +individual, and, though deeply human, yet of a spirituality now +close as the grass, and now as the stars. The date of 'The Dawn' is +uncertain. It may have been 1883, the year of 'The Story of My +Heart,' or it may have been as late as 1885. This book, therefore, +contains, like no other single volume, the record of Jefferies' +progress during about ten of his most important years. It was not +for nothing that Jefferies, man and boy, had gone through the phases +of sportsman, naturalist, and artist, and always worshipper, upon +the hills, 'that he lived in a perpetual commerce with external +Nature, and nourished himself upon the spirit of its forms.' Air and +sun so cleaned and sweetened his work that in the end the cleanness +and sweetness of Nature herself become inseparable from it in our +minds. + + + + +CHOOSING A GUN + + +The first thought of the amateur sportsman naturally refers to his +gun, and the questions arise: What sort of a gun do I want? Where +can I get it? What price shall I pay? In appearance there can be no +great difficulty in settling these matters, but in practice it is +really by no means easy. Some time since, being on a visit to the +Metropolis, I was requested by a friend to get him a gun, and +accepted the commission, as M. Emile Ollivier went to war, with a +light heart, little dreaming of the troubles that would start up in +the attempt to conscientiously carry it out. He wanted a good gun, +and was not very scrupulous as to maker or price, provided that the +latter was not absolutely extravagant. With such _carte blanche_ as +this it seemed plain-sailing, and, indeed, I never gave a second +thought to the business till I opened the door of the first +respectable gunmaker's shop I came across, which happened to be no +great distance from Pall Mall. A very polite gentleman immediately +came forward, rubbing his hands as if he were washing them (which is +an odd habit with many), and asked if there was anything he could do +for me. Well, yes, I wanted a gun. Just so--they had one of the +largest stocks in London, and would be most happy to show me +specimens of all kinds. But was there any special sort of gun +required, as then they could suit me in an instant. + +'Hum! Ah! Well, I--I'--feeling rather vague--'perhaps you would let +me see your catalogue----' + +'Certainly.' And a handsomely got-up pamphlet, illustrated with +woodcuts, was placed in my hands, and I began to study the pages. +But this did not suit him; doubtless, with the practice of his +profession, he saw at once the uncertain manner of the customer who +was feeling his way, and thought to bring it to a point. + +'You want a good, useful gun, sir, I presume?' + +'That is just it'--shutting the catalogue; quite a relief to have +the thing put into shape for one! + +'Then you can't do better than take our new patent double-action +so-and-so. Here it is'--handing me a decent-looking weapon in +thorough polish, which I begin to weigh in my hands, poise it to +ascertain the balance, and to try how it comes to the present, and +whether I can catch the rib quick enough, when he goes on: 'We can +let you have that gun, sir, for ten guineas.' + +'Oh, indeed! But that's very cheap, isn't it?' I thoughtlessly +observe, putting the gun down. + +My friend D. had mentioned a much higher amount as his ultimatum. +The next instant I saw in what light my remark would be taken. It +would be interpreted in this way: Here we have either a rich +amateur, who doesn't care what he gives, or else a fool who knows +nothing about it. + +'Well, sir, of course it's our very plainest gun'--the weapon is +tossed carelessly into the background--'in fact, we sometimes call +it our gamekeeper gun. Now, here is a really fine thing--neatly +finished, engraved plates, first choice stock, the very best walnut, +price----' He names a sum very close to D.'s outside. + +I handle the weapon in the same manner, and for the life of me +cannot meet his eye, for I know that he is reading me, or thinks he +is, like a book. With the exception that the gun is a trifle more +elaborately got up, I cannot see or feel the slightest difference, +and begin secretly to suspect that the price of guns is regulated +according to the inexperience of the purchaser--a sort of sliding +scale, gauged to ignorance, and rising or falling with its density! +He expatiates on the gun and points out all its beauties. + +'Shooting carefully registered, sir. Can see it tried, or try it +yourself, sir. Our range is barely three-quarters of an hour's ride. +If the stock doesn't quite fit your shoulder, you can have +another--the same price. You won't find a better gun in all London.' + +I can see that it really is a very fair article, but do not detect +the extraordinary excellencies so glibly described. I recollect an +old proverb about the fool and the money he is said to part with +hastily. I resolve to see more variety before making the final +plunge; and what the eloquent shopkeeper thinks is my growing +admiration for the gun which I continue to handle is really my +embarrassment, for as yet I am not hardened, and dislike the idea of +leaving the shop without making a purchase after actually touching +the goods. But D.'s money--I must lay it out to the best advantage. +Desperately I fling the gun into his hands, snatch up the catalogue, +mutter incoherently, 'Will look it through--like the look of the +thing--call again,' and find myself walking aimlessly along the +pavement outside. + +An unpleasant sense of having played a rather small part lingered +for some time, and ultimately resolved itself into a determination +to make up my mind as to exactly what D. wanted, and on entering the +next shop, to ask to see that, and that only. So, turning to the +address of another gunmaker, I walked towards it slowly, revolving +in my mind the sort of shooting D. usually enjoyed. Visions of green +fields, woods just beginning to turn colour, puffs of smoke hanging +over the ground, rose up, and blotted out the bustling London scene. +The shops glittering with their brightest goods placed in front, the +throng of vehicles, the crowds of people, faded away, the pace +increased and the stride lengthened as if stepping over the elastic +turf, and the roar of the traffic sounded low, like a distant +waterfall. From this reverie the rude apostrophes of a hansom-cabman +awoke me--I had walked right into the stream of the street, and +instead of the awning boughs of the wood found a whip upheld, +threatening chastisement for getting in the way. This brought me up +from imagination to logic with a jerk, and I began to check off the +uses D. could put his gun to on the fingers. (1) I knew he had a +friend in Yorkshire, and shot over his moor every August. His gun, +then, must be suited to grouse-shooting, and must be light, because +of the heat which often prevails at that time, and renders dragging +a heavy gun many miles over the heather--before they pack--a +serious drawback to the pleasure of the sport. (2) He had some +partridge-shooting of his own, and was peculiarly fond of it. (3) He +was always invited to at least two battues. (4) A part of his own +shooting was on the hills, where the hares were very wild, where +there was no cover, and they had to be knocked over at long +distances, and took a hard blow. That would require (a) a +choke-bore, which was not suitable either, because in covers the +pheasants at short ranges would not unlikely get 'blown,' which +would annoy the host; or (b) a heavy, strong gun, which would take a +stiff charge without too much recoil. But that, again, clashed with +the light gun for shooting in August. (5) He had latterly taken a +fancy to wild-fowl shooting by the coast, for which a very +hard-hitting, long-range gun was needed. It would never do if D. +could not bring down a duck. (6) He was notorious as a dead shot on +snipe--this told rather in favour of a light gun, old system of +boring; for where would a snipe or a woodcock be if it chanced to +get 200 pellets into it at twenty yards? You might find the claws +and fragments of the bill if you looked with a microscope. (7) No +delicate piece of workmanship would do, because he was careless of +his gun, knocked it about anyhow, and occasionally dropped it in a +brook. And here was the shop-door; imagine the state of confusion my +mind was in when I entered! + +This was a very 'big' place: the gentleman who approached had a way +of waving his hand--very white and jewelled--and a grand, lofty idea +of what a gun should cost. 'Twenty, thirty, forty pounds--some of +the £30 were second-hand, of course--we have a few, a very few, +second-hand guns'--such was the sweeping answer to my first mild +inquiry about prices. Then, seeing at once my vacillating manner, +he, too, took me in hand, only in a terribly earnest, ponderous way +from which there was no escape. 'You wanted a good general gun--yes; +a thoroughly good, well-finished, _plain_ gun (great emphasis on the +'plain'). Of course, you can't get anything new for _that_ money, +finished in style. Still, the plain gun will shoot just as well (as +if the shooting part was scarcely worth consideration). We make the +very best plain-finished article for five-and-twenty guineas in +London. By-the-by, where is your shooting, sir?' Thrust home like +this, not over-gratified by a manner which seemed to say, 'Listen to +an authority,' and desiring to keep an incog., I mutter something +about 'abroad.' 'Ah--well, then, this article is precisely the +thing, because it will carry ball, an immense advantage in any +country where you may come across large game.' + +'How far will it throw a ball?' I ask, rather curious on that +subject, for I was under the impression that a smooth-bore of the +usual build is not much to be relied on in that way--far less, +indeed, than the matchlocks made by semi-civilized nations. But it +seems I was mistaken. + +'Why--a hundred yards point-blank, and ten times better to shoot +with than a rifle.' + +'Indeed!' + +'Of course, I mean in cover, as you're pretty sure to be. Say a wild +boar is suddenly started: well, you pull out your No. 4 +shot-cartridge, and push in a ball; you shoot as well +again--snap-shooting with a smooth-bore in jungle or bush. There's +not a better gun turned out in town than that. It's not the +slightest use your looking for anything cheaper--rebounding locks, +best stocks, steel damascene barrels; fit for anything from snipe to +deer, from dust to buck-shot----' + +'But I think----' Another torrent overwhelms me. + +'Here's an order for twenty of these guns for Texas, to shoot from +horseback at buffalo--ride in among them, you know.' + +I look at my watch, find it's much later than I imagine, remark that +it is really a difficult thing to pick out a gun, and seize the +door-handle. + +'When gentlemen don't exactly know what they're looking for it _is_ +a hard job to choose a gun'--he smiles sarcastically, and shuts me +out politely. + +The observation seems hard, after thinking over guns so intently; +yet it must be aggravating to attempt to serve a man who does not +know what he wants--yet (one's mood changes quickly) it was his +own fault for trying to force, to positively force, that +twenty-five-guinea thing on me instead of giving me a chance to +choose. I had seen rows on rows of guns stacked round the shop, rank +upon rank; in the background a door partly open permitted a glimpse +of a second room, also perfectly coated with guns, if such an +expression is permissible. Now, I look on ranges of guns like this +much the same as on a library. Is there anything so delicious as the +first exploration of a great library--alone--unwatched? You shut the +heavy door behind you slowly, reverently, lest a noise should jar on +the sleepers of the shelves. For as the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus +were dead and yet alive, so are the souls of the authors in the care +of their ancient leathern binding. You walk gently round the walls, +pausing here to read a title, there to draw out a tome and support +it for a passing glance--half in your arms, half against the shelf. +The passing glance lengthens till the weight becomes too great, and +with a sigh you replace it, and move again, peering up at those +titles which are foreshortened from the elevation of the shelf, and +so roam from folio to octavo, from octavo to quarto, till at last, +finding a little work whose value, were it in the mart, would be +more than its weight in gold, you bear it to the low leather-covered +arm-chair and enjoy it at your ease. But to sip the full pleasure of +a library you must be alone, and you must take the books yourself +from the shelves. A man to read must read alone. He may make +extracts, he may _work_ at books in company; but to read, to absorb, +he must be solitary. Something in the same way--except in the +necessity for solitude, which does not exist in this case--I like to +go through a battery of guns, picking up this one, or that, glancing +up one, trying the locks of another, examining the thickness of the +breech. Why did not the fellow say, 'There are our guns; walk round, +take down what you please, do as you like, and don't hurry. I will +go on with some work while you examine them. Call me if you want any +explanation. Spend the day there if you like, and come again +to-morrow.' It would have been a hundred chances to one that I had +found a gun to suit D., for the shop was a famous one, the guns +really good, the workmanship unimpeachable, and the stock to select +from immense. But let a thing be never so good, one does not care to +have it positively thrust on one. + +By this time my temper was up, and I determined to go through with +the business, and get the precise article likely to please D., if I +went to every maker in the Metropolis. I went to very nearly every +prominent man--I spent several days at it. I called at shops whose +names are household words wherever an English sportsman can be +found. Some of them, though bright to look at from the pavement, +within were mean, and even lacked cleanliness. The attendants were +often incapable of comprehending that a customer _may_ be as good a +judge of what he wants as themselves; they have got into a narrow +routine of offering the same thing to everybody. No two shops were +of the same opinion: at one you were told that the choke was the +greatest success in the world; at another, that they only shot well +for one season, quickly wearing out; at a third, that such and such +a 'grip' or breech-action was perfect; at a fourth, that there never +was such a mistake; at a fifth, that hammerless guns were the guns +of the future, and elsewhere, that people detested hammerless guns +because it seemed like learning to shoot over again. Finally, I +visited several of the second-hand shops. They had some remarkably +good guns--for the leading second-hand shops do not care to buy a +gun unless by a crack maker--but the cheapness was a delusion. A new +gun might be got for the same money, or very little more. Their +system was like this. Suppose they had a really good gun, but, for +aught you could tell, twenty or thirty years old (the breech-action +might have been altered), for this they would ask, say £25. The +original price of the gun may have been £50, and if viewed _only_ +with regard to the original price, of course that would be a great +reduction. But for the £25 a new gun could be got from a maker whose +goods, if not so famous, were thoroughly reliable, and who +guaranteed the shooting. In the one case you bought a gun about +whose previous history you knew absolutely nothing beyond the mere +fact of the barrels having come at first-hand from a leading maker. +But they may have been battered about--rebored; they may be scored +inside by someone loading with flints; twenty things that are quite +unascertainable may have combined to injure its original perfection. +The cheapness will not stand the test of a moment's thought--that +is, if you are in search of excellence. You buy a name and trust to +chance. After several days of such work as this, becoming less and +less satisfied at every fresh attempt, and physically more fatigued +than if I had walked a hundred miles, I gave it up for awhile, and +wrote to D. for more precise instructions. + +When I came to quietly reflect on these experiences, I found that +the effect of carefully studying the subject had been to plunge me +into utter confusion. It seemed as difficult to choose a gun as to +choose a horse, which is saying a good deal. Most of us take our +shooting as we take other things--from our fathers--very likely use +their guns, get into their style of shooting; or if we buy guns, buy +them because a friend wants to sell, and so get hold of the gun that +suits us by a kind of happy chance. But to begin _de novo_, to +select a gun from the thousand and one exhibited in London, to go +conscientiously into the merits and demerits of the endless +varieties of locks and breeches, and to come to an impartial +decision, is a task the magnitude of which is not easily described. +How many others who have been placed in somewhat similar positions +must have felt the same ultimate confusion of mind, and perhaps at +last, in sheer despair, plunged, and bought the first that came to +hand, regretting for years afterwards that they had not bought this +or that weapon, which had taken their fancy, but which some +gunsmith interested in a patent had declared obsolete! + +D. settled the question, so far as he was concerned, by ordering two +guns: one bored in the old style for ordinary shooting, and a choked +gun of larger bore for the ducks. But all this trouble and +investigation gave rise to several not altogether satisfactory +reflections. For one thing, there seems a too great desire on the +part of gunmakers to achieve a colossal reputation by means of some +new patent, which is thrust on the notice of the sportsman and of +the public generally at every step and turn. The patent very likely +is an admirable thing, and quite fulfils the promise so far as the +actual object in view is concerned. But it is immediately declared +to supersede everything--no gun is of any use without it: you are +compelled to purchase it whether or no, or you are given to +understand that you are quite behind the age. The leading idea of +the gunmaker nowadays is to turn out a hundred thousand guns of one +particular pattern, like so many bales of cloth; everybody is to +shoot with this, their speciality, and everything that has been +previously done is totally ignored. The workman in the true sense of +the word--the artist in guns--is either extinct, or hidden in an +obscure corner. There is no individuality about modern guns. One is +exactly like another. That is very well, and necessary for military +arms, because an army must be supplied with a single pattern +cartridge in order to simplify the difficulty of providing +ammunition. They fail even in the matter of ornament. The +design--if it can be called design--on one lock-plate is repeated on +a thousand others, so with the hammers. There is no originality +about a modern gun; as you handle it you are conscious that it is +well put together, that the mechanism is perfect, the barrels true, +but somehow it feels _hard_; it conveys the impression of being +machine-made. You cannot feel the _hand_ of the maker anywhere, and +the failure, the flatness, the formality of the supposed ornament, +is depressing. The ancient harquebuss makers far surpassed the very +best manufacturers of the present day. Their guns are really +artistic--works of true art. The stocks of some of the German +wheel-lock guns of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are +really beautiful specimens of carving and design. Their powder-horns +are gems of workmanship--hunting-scenes cut out in ivory, the +minutest detail rendered with life-like accuracy. They graved their +stags and boars from Nature, not from conventional designs; the +result is that we admire them now because Nature is constant, and +her fashions endure. The conventional 'designs' on our lock-plates, +etc., will in a few years be despised; they have no intrinsic +beauty. The Arab of the desert, wild, untrammelled, ornaments his +matchlock with turquoise. Our machine-made guns, double-barrel, +breech-loading, double-grip, rebounding locks, first-choice stocks, +laminated steel, or damascus barrels, choke-bore, and so forth, +will, it is true, mow down the pheasants at the battue as the scythe +cuts down the grass. There is slaughter in every line of them. But +is slaughter everything? In my idea it is not, but very far from it. +Were I offered the choice of participation in the bloodiest battue +ever arranged--such as are reserved for princes--the very best +position, and the best-finished and swiftest breech-loader invented, +or the freedom of an English forest, to go forth at any time and +shoot whatever I chose, untrammelled by any attendants, on condition +that I only carried a wheel-lock, I should unhesitatingly select the +second alternative. There would be an abiding pleasure in the very +fact of using so beautiful a weapon--just in the very handling of +it, to pass the fingers over the intricate and exquisite carving. +There would be pleasure in winding up the lock with the spanner; in +adjusting the pyrites to strike fire from the notches of the wheel; +in priming from a delicate flask graven with stag and hounds. There +would be delight in stealing from tree to tree, in creeping from +bush to bush, through the bracken, keeping the wind carefully, +noiselessly gliding forward--so silently that the woodpecker should +not cease tapping in the beech, or the pigeon her hoarse call in the +oak, till at last within range of the buck. And then! First, if the +ball did not hit the vital spot, if it did not pass through the +neck, or break the shoulder, inevitably he would be lost, for the +round bullet would not break up like a shell, and smash the +creature's flesh and bones into a ghastly jelly, as do the missiles +from our nineteenth century express rifles. Secondly, if the wheel +did not knock a spark out quickly, if the priming had not been kept +dry, and did not ignite instantly, the aim might waver, and all the +previous labour be lost. Something like skill would be necessary +here. There would be art in the weapon itself, skill in the very +loading, skill in the approach, nerve in holding the gun steady +while the slow powder caught from the priming and expelled the ball. +That would be sport. An imperfect weapon--well, yes; but the +imperfect weapon would somehow harmonize with the forest, with the +huge old hollow oaks, the beeches full of knot-holes, the mysterious +thickets, the tall fern, the silence and solitude. It would make the +forest seem a forest--such as existed hundreds of years ago; it +would make the chase a real chase, not a foregone conclusion. It +would equalize the chances, and give the buck 'law.' In short, it +would be real shooting. Or with smaller game--I fancy I could hit a +pheasant with a wheel-lock if I went alone, and _flushed the bird +myself_. In that lies all the difference. If your birds are flushed +by beaters, you may be on the watch, but that very watching unnerves +by straining the nerves, and then the sudden rush and noise flusters +you, and even with the best gun of modern construction you often +miss. If you spring the bird yourself the noise may startle you, and +yet somehow you settle down to your aim and drop him. With a +wheel-lock, if I could get a tolerably clear view, I think I could +bring him down. If only a brace rewarded a day's roaming under oak +and beech, through fern and past thicket, I should be amply +satisfied. With the antique weapon the spirit of the wood would +enter into one. The chances of failure add zest to the pursuit. For +slaughter, however, our modern guns are unsurpassed. + +Another point which occurs to one after such an overhauling of guns +as I went through is the price charged for them. There does seem +something very arbitrary in the charges demanded, and one cannot +help a feeling that they bear no proportion to the real value or +cost of production. It may, of course, be said that the wages of +workmen are very high--although workmen as a mass have long been +complaining that such is not really the case. The rent of premises +in fashionable localities is also high, no doubt. For my part, I +would quite as soon buy a gun in a village as in a crowded +thoroughfare of the Metropolis; indeed rather sooner, since there +would probably be a range attached where it could be tried. To be +offered a range, as is often the case in London, half an hour +out--which, with getting to the station and from the station at the +other end, to the place and back, may practically mean half a +day--is of little use. If you could pick up the gun in the shop, +stroll outside and try it at once, it would be ten times more +pleasant and satisfactory. A good gun is like the good wine of the +proverb--if it were made in a village, to that village men would go +or send for it. The materials for gun making are, surely, not very +expensive--processes for cheapening steel and metal generally are +now carried to such an extent, and the market for metals has fallen +to an extraordinary extent. Machinery and steam-power to drive it +is, no doubt, a very heavy item; but are we so anxious for machinery +and machine-made guns? Are you and I anxious that ten thousand other +persons should shoot with guns exactly, precisely like ours in every +single particular? That is the meaning of machinery. It destroys the +individuality of sport. We are all like so many soldiers in an army +corps firing Government Martini-Henries. In the sporting ranks one +does not want to be a private. I wonder some clever workman does not +go and set himself up in some village where rent and premises are +low, and where a range could be got close to his door, and +deliberately set down to make a name for really first-rate guns, at +a moderate price, and with some pretensions to individuality and +beauty. There is water-power, which is cheaper than steam, running +to waste all over the country now. The old gristmills, which may be +found three or four in a single parish sometimes, are half of them +falling into decay, because we eat American wheat now, which is +ground in the city steam-mills, and a good deal imported ready +ground as flour. Here and there one would think sufficient +water-power might be obtained in this way. But even if we admit that +great manufactories are extremely expensive to maintain, wages high, +rent dear, premises in fashionable streets fabulously costly, yet +even then there is something in the price of guns not quite the +thing. You buy a gun and pay a long price for it: but if you attempt +to sell it again you find it is the same as with jewellery, you can +get hardly a third of its original cost. The intrinsic value of the +gun then is less than half its advertised first cost-price. The +second-hand gun offered to you for £20 has probably cost the dealer +about £6, or £10 at the most. So that, manage it 'how you will,' you +pay a sum quite out of proportion to the intrinsic value. It is all +very well to talk about the market, custom of trade, supply and +demand, and so forth, though some of the cries of the political +economist (notably the Free Trade cry) are now beginning to be +questioned. The value of a thing is what it will fetch, no doubt, +and yet that is a doctrine which metes out half-justice only. It is +justice to the seller, but, argue as sophistically as you like, it +is _not_ justice to the purchaser. + +I should recommend any gentleman who is going to equip himself as a +sportsman to ask himself before he starts the question that occurred +to me too late in D.'s case: What kind of shooting am I likely to +enjoy? Then, if not wishing to go to more expense than absolutely +necessary, let him purchase a gun precisely suited to the game he +will meet. As briefly observed before, if the sportsman takes his +sport early in the year, and practically in the summer--August is +certainly a summer month--he will like a light gun; and as the +grouse at that time have not packed, and are not difficult of +access, a light gun will answer quite as well as a heavy arm, whose +powerful charges are not required, and which simply adds to the +fatigue. Much lighter guns are used now than formerly; they do not +last so long, but few of us now look forward forty years. A gun of +6œ pounds' weight will be better than anything else for summer +work. All sportsmen say it is a toy and so it is, but a very deadly +one. The same weapon will equally well do for the first of September +(unless the weather has been very bad), and for a few weeks of +partridge-shooting. But if the sport comes later in the autumn, a +heavier gun with a stronger charge (alluding to guns of the old +style of boring) will be found useful. For shooting when the leaves +are off a heavier gun has, perhaps, some advantages. + +Battue-shooting puts a great strain upon a gun, from the rapid and +continuous firing, and a pheasant often requires a hard knock to +grass him successfully. You never know, either, at what range you +are likely to meet with him. It may be ten yards, it may be sixty; +so that a strong charge, a long range, and considerable power of +penetration are desirable, if it is wished to make a good +performance. I recommend a powerful gun for pheasant-shooting, +because probably in no other sport is a miss so annoying. The bird +is large and in popular estimation, therefore ought not to get away. +There is generally a party at the house at the time, and shots are +sure to be talked about, good or bad, but especially the latter, +which some men have a knack of noticing, though they may be +apparently out of sight, and bring up against you in the pleasantest +way possible: 'I say, you were rather in a fluster, weren't you, +this morning? Nerves out of order--eh?' Now, is there anything so +aggravating as to be asked about your nerves? It is, perhaps, from +the operation of competition that pheasants, as a rule, get very +little law allowed them. If you want to shine at this kind of sport, +knock the bird over, no matter when you see him--if his tail brushes +the muzzle of your gun: every head counts. The fact is, if a +pheasant is allowed law, and really treated as game, he is not by +any means so easy a bird to kill as may be supposed. + +If money is no particular object, of course the sportsman can allow +himself a gun for every different kind of sport, although luxury in +that respect is apt to bring with it its punishment, by making him +but an indifferent shot with either of his weapons. But if anyone +wishes to be a really good shot, to be equipped for almost every +contingency, and yet not to go to great expense, the very best +course to follow is to buy two good guns, one of the old style of +boring, and the other nearly or quite choked. The first should be +neither heavy nor light--a moderately weighted weapon, upon which +thorough reliance may be placed up to fifty yards, and that under +favourable circumstances may kill much farther. Choose it with care, +pay a fair price for it, and adhere to it. This gun, with a little +variation in the charge, will suit almost every kind of shooting, +from snipe to pheasant. The choke-bore is the reserve gun, in case +of specially long range and great penetration being required. It +should, perhaps, be a size larger in the bore than the other. +Twelve-bore for the ordinary gun, and ten for the second, will +cover most contingencies. With a ten-bore choke, hares running wild +on hills without cover, partridge coveys getting up at fifty or +sixty yards in the same kind of country, grouse wild as hawks, +ducks, plovers, and wild-fowl generally, are pretty well accessible. +If not likely to meet with duck, a twelve-bore choke will do equally +well. Thus armed, if opportunity offers, you may shoot anywhere in +Europe. The cylinder-bore will carry an occasional ball for a boar, +a wolf, or fallow-deer, though large shot out of the choke will, +perhaps, be more effective--so far, at least, as small deer are +concerned. If you can afford it, a spare gun (old-style boring) is a +great comfort, in case of an accident to the mechanism. + + + + +SKATING + + +The rime of the early morning on the rail nearest the bank is easily +brushed off by sliding the walking-stick along it, and then forms a +convenient seat while the skates are fastened. An old hand selects +his gimlet with the greatest care, for if too large the screw +speedily works loose, if too small the thread, as it is frantically +forced in or out by main strength, cuts and tears the leather. A bad +gimlet has spoilt many a day's skating. Nor should the straps be +drawn too tight at first, for if hauled up to the last hole at +starting the blood cannot circulate, and the muscles of the foot +become cramped. What miseries have not ladies heroically endured in +this way at the hands of incompetent assistants! In half an hour's +time the straps will have worked to the boot, and will bear pulling +another hole or even more without pain. On skates thus fastened +anything may be accomplished. + +Always put your own skates on, and put them on deliberately; for if +you really mean skating in earnest, limbs, and even life, may depend +on their running true, and not failing at a critical moment. The +slope of the bank must be descended sideways--avoid the stones +concealed by snow, for they will destroy the edge of the skate. When +within a foot or so, leap on, and the impetus will carry you some +yards out upon the lake, clear of the shadow of the bank and the +willows above, out to where the ice gleams under the sunshine. A +glance round shows that it is a solitude; the marks of skates that +went past yesterday are visible, but no one has yet arrived: it is +the time for an exploring expedition. Following the shore, note how +every stone or stick that has been thrown on by thoughtless persons +has sunk into and become firmly fixed in the ice. The slight heat of +midday has radiated from the surface of the stone, causing the ice +to melt around it, when it has sunk a little, and at night been +frozen hard in that position, forming an immovable obstacle, +extremely awkward to come into contact with. A few minutes and the +marks of skates become less frequent, and in a short time almost +cease, for the gregarious nature of man exhibits itself even on ice. +One spot is crowded with people, and beyond that extends a broad +expanse scarcely visited. Here a sand-bank rises almost to the +surface, and the yellow sand beneath causes the ice to assume a +lighter tint; beyond it, over the deep water, it is dark. + +Then a fir-copse bordering the shore shuts out the faintest breath +of the north wind, and the surface in the bay thus sheltered is +sleek to a degree. This is the place for figure-skating; the ice is +perfect, and the wind cannot interfere with the balance. Here you +may turn and revolve and twist and go through those endless +evolutions and endless repetitions of curves which exercise so +singular a fascination. Look at a common figure of 8 that a man has +cut out! How many hundreds of times has he gone round and round +those two narrow crossing loops or circles! No variation, no change; +the art of it is to keep almost to the same groove, and not to make +the figure broad and splay. Yet by the wearing away of the ice it is +evident that a length of time has been spent thus for ever wheeling +round. And when the skater visits the ice again, back he will come +and resume the wheeling at intervals. On past a low waterfall where +a brook runs in--the water has frozen right up to the cascade. A +long stretch of marshy shore succeeds--now frozen hard enough, at +other times not to be passed without sinking over the ankles in mud. +The ice is rough with the aquatic weeds frozen in it, so that it is +necessary to leave the shore some thirty yards. The lake widens, and +yonder in the centre--scarcely within range of a deer-rifle--stand +four or five disconsolate wild-duck watching every motion. They are +quite unapproachable, but sometimes an unfortunate dabchick that has +been discovered in a tuft of grass is hunted and struck down by +sticks. A rabbit on ice can also be easily overtaken by a skater. If +one should venture out from the furze there, and make for the copse +opposite, put on the pace, and you will be speedily alongside. As he +doubles quickly, however, it is not so easy to catch him when +overtaken: still, it can be done. Rabbits previously netted are +occasionally turned out on purpose for a course, and afford +considerable sport, with a very fair chance--if dogs be eschewed--of +gaining their liberty. But they must have 'law,' and the presence of +a crowd spoils all; the poor animal is simply surrounded, and knows +not where to run. Tracks of wild rabbits crossing the ice are +frequent. Now, having gained the farthest extremity of the lake, +pause a minute and take breath for a burst down the centre. The +regular sound of the axe comes from the wood hard by, and every now +and then the crash as some tall ash-pole falls to the ground, no +more to bear the wood-pigeon's nest in spring, no more to impede the +startled pheasant in autumn as he rises like a rocket till clear of +the boughs. + +Now for it: the wind, hardly felt before under shelter of the banks +and trees, strikes the chest like the blow of a strong man as you +rush against it. The chest responds with a long-drawn heave, the +pliable ribs bend outwards, and the cavity within enlarges, filled +with the elastic air. The stride grows longer and longer--the +momentum increases--the shadow slips over the surface; the fierce +joy of reckless speed seizes on the mind. In the glow, and the +speed, and the savage north wind, the old Norse spirit rises, and +one feels a giant. Oh that such a sense of vigour--of the fulness of +life--could but last! + +By now others have found their way to the shore; a crowd has already +assembled at that spot which a gregarious instinct has marked out +for the ice-fair, and approaching it speed must be slackened. +Sounds of merry laughter, and the 'knock, knock' of the +hockey-sticks arise. Ladies are gracefully gliding hither and +thither. Dancing-parties are formed, and thus among friends the +short winter's day passes too soon, and sunset is at hand. But how +beautiful that sunset! Under the level beams of the sun the ice +assumes a delicate rosy hue; yonder the white snow-covered hills to +the eastward are rosy too. Above them the misty vapour thickening in +the sky turns to the dull red the shepherd knows to mean another +frost and another fine day. Westwards where the disc has just gone +down, the white ridges of the hills stand out for the moment sharp +against the sky, as if cut by the graver's tool. Then the vapours +thicken; then, too, behind them, and slowly, the night falls. + +Come back again in a few hours' time. The laugh is still, the noise +has fled, and the first sound of the skate on the black ice seems +almost a desecration. Shadows stretch out and cover the once +gleaming surface. But through the bare boughs of the great oak +yonder the moon--almost full--looks athwart the lake, and will soon +be high in the sky. + + + + +MARLBOROUGH FOREST + + +The great painter, Autumn, has just touched with the tip of his +brush a branch of the beech-tree, here and there leaving an orange +spot, and the green acorns are tinged with a faint yellow. The +hedges, perfect mines of beauty, look almost red from a distance, so +innumerable are the peggles.[1] Let not the modern Goths destroy our +hedges, so typical of an English landscape, so full of all that can +delight the eye and please the mind. Spare them, if only for the +sake of the 'days when we went gipsying--a long time ago'; spare +them for the children to gather the flowers of May and the +blackberries of September. + + [1] A Wiltshire name for hawthorn-berries. + +When the orange spot glows upon the beech, then the nuts are ripe, +and the hawthorn-bushes are hung with festoons of the buff-coloured, +heart-shaped leaves of a once-green creeper. That 'deepe and +enclosed country of Northe Wiltes,' which old Clarendon, in his +famous 'Civill Warre,' says the troops of King Charles had so much +difficulty to hurry through, is pleasant to those who can linger by +the wayside and the copse, and do not fear to hear the ordnance +make the 'woods ring again,' though to this day a rusty old +cannon-ball may sometimes be found under the dead brown leaves of +Aldbourne Chase, where the skirmish took place before 'Newbury +Battle.' + +Perhaps it is because no such outbursts of human passions have +swept along beneath its trees that the 'Forest' is unsung by +the poet and unvisited by the artist. Yet its very name is +poetical--Savernake--_i.e._, savernes-acres--like the God's-acres +of Longfellow. Saverne--a peculiar species of sweet fern; +acre--land.' So we may call it 'Fern-land Forest,' and with truth, +for but one step beneath those beeches away from the path plunges +us to our shoulders in an ocean of bracken. + +The yellow stalks, stout and strong as wood, make walking through +the brake difficult, and the route pursued devious, till, from the +constant turning and twisting, the way is lost. For this is no +narrow copse, but a veritable forest in which it is easy to lose +oneself; and the stranger who attempts to pass it away from the +beaten track must possess some of the Indian instinct which sees +signs and directions in the sun and wind, in the trees and humble +plants of the ground. + +And this is its great charm. The heart has a yearning for the +unknown, a longing to penetrate the deep shadow and the winding +glade, where, as it seems, no human foot has been. + +High overhead in the beech-tree the squirrel peeps down from behind +a bough, his long bushy tail curled up over his back, and his bright +eyes full of mischievous cunning. Listen, and you will hear the +tap, tap of the woodpecker, and see! away he goes in undulating +flight with a wild, unearthly chuckle, his green and gold plumage +glancing in the sun, like the parrots of far-distant lands. He will +alight in some open space upon an ant-hill, and lick up the red +insects with his tongue. In the fir-tree there, what a chattering +and fluttering of gaily-painted wings!--three or four jays are +quarrelling noisily. These beautiful birds are slain by scores +because of their hawk-like capacities for destruction of game, and +because of the delicate colours of their feathers, which are used in +fly-fishing. + +There darts across the glade a scared rabbit, straining each little +limb for speed, almost rushing against us, a greater terror +overcoming the less. In a moment there darts forth from the dried +grass a fierce red-furred hunter, a very tiger to the rabbit tribe, +with back slightly arched, bounding along, and sniffing the scent; +another, and another, still a fourth--a whole pack of stoats (elder +brothers of the smaller weasels). In vain will the rabbit trust to +his speed, these untiring wolves will overtake him. In vain will he +turn and double: their unerring noses will find him out. In vain the +tunnels of the 'bury,' they will as surely come under ground as +above. At last, wearied, panting, frightened almost to death, the +timid creature will hide in a cul-de-sac, a hole that has no outlet, +burying its head in the sand. Then the tiny bloodhounds will steal +with swift, noiseless rush, and fasten upon the veins of the neck. +What a rattling the wings of the pigeons make as they rise out of +the trees in hot haste and alarm! As we pass a fir-copse we stoop +down and look along the ground under the foliage. The sharp +'needles' or leaves which fall will not decay, and they kill all +vegetation, so that there is no underwood or herbage to obstruct the +view. It is like looking into a vast cellar supported upon +innumerable slender columns. The pheasants run swiftly away +underneath. + +High up the cones are ripening--those mysterious emblems sculptured +in the hands of the gods at Nineveh, perhaps typifying the secret of +life. More bracken. What a strong, tall fern! it is like a miniature +tree. So thick is the cover, a thousand archers might be hid in it +easily. In this wild solitude, utterly separated from civilization, +the whistle of an arrow would not surprise us--the shout of a savage +before he hurled his spear would seem natural, and in keeping. What +are those strange, clattering noises, like the sound of men fighting +with wooden 'backswords'? Now it is near--now afar off--a spreading +battle seems to be raging all round, but the combatants are out of +sight. But, gently--step lightly, and avoid placing the foot on dead +sticks, which break with a loud crack--softly peep round the trunk +of this noble oak, whose hard furrowed bark defends it like armour. + +The red-deer! Two splendid stags are fighting--fighting for their +lady-love, the timid doe. They rush at each other with head down and +horns extended; the horns meet and rattle; they fence with them +skilfully. This was the cause of the noise. It is the tilting +season--these tournaments between the knights of the forest are +going on all around. There is just a trifle of danger in approaching +these combatants, but not much, just enough to make the forest still +more enticing; none whatever to those who use common caution. At the +noise of our footsteps away go the stags, their 'branching antlers' +seen high above the tall fern, bounding over the ground in a series +of jumps, all four feet leaving the earth at once. There are immense +oaks that we come to now, each with an open space beneath it, where +Titania and the fairies may dance their rings at night. These +enormous trunks--what _time_ they represent! To us, each hour is of +consequence, especially in this modern day, which has invented the +detestable creed that time is money. But time is not money to +Nature. She never hastens. Slowly from the tiny acorn grew up this +gigantic trunk, and spread abroad those limbs which in themselves +are trees. And from the trunk itself to the smallest leaf, every +infinitesimal atom of which it is composed was perfected slowly, +gradually--there was no hurry, no attempt to discount effect. A +little farther and the ground declines; through the tall fern we +come upon a valley. But the soft warm sunshine, the stillness, the +solitude, have induced an irresistible idleness. Let us lie down +upon the fern, on the edge of the green vale, and gaze up at the +slow clouds as they drift across the blue vault. + +The subtle influence of Nature penetrates every limb and every vein, +fills the soul with a perfect contentment, an absence of all wish +except to lie there, half in sunshine, half in shade, for ever in a +Nirvana of indifference to all but the exquisite delight of simply +_living_. The wind in the tree-tops overhead sighs in soft music, +and ever and anon a leaf falls with a slight rustle to mark time. + +The clouds go by in rhythmic motion, the ferns whisper verses in the +ear, the beams of the wondrous sun in endless song, for he, also, + + In his motion like an angel sings, + Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim, + Such harmony is in immortal souls! + +Time is to us now no more than it was to the oak; we have no +consciousness of it. Only we feel the broad earth beneath us, and as +to the ancient giant, so there passes through us a strength renewing +itself, of vital energy flowing into the frame. It may be an hour, +it may be two hours, when, without the aid of sound or sight, we +become aware by an indescribable, supersensuous perception that +living creatures are approaching. Sit up without noise and look: +there is a herd of deer feeding down the narrow valley close at +hand, within a stone's-throw. And these are deer indeed--no puny +creatures, but the 'tall deer' that William the Conqueror loved 'as +if he were their father.' Fawns are darting here and there, frisking +round the does. How many may there be in this herd? Fifty, perhaps +more. Nor is this a single isolated instance, but dozens more of +such herds may be found in this true old English forest, all running +free and unconstrained. + +But the sun gets low. Following this broad green drive, it leads us +past vistas of endless glades, going no man knows where, into +shadow and gloom; past grand old oaks; past places where the edge +of a veritable wilderness comes up to the trees--a wilderness of +gnarled hawthorn trunks of unknown ages, of holly with shining +metallic-green leaves, and hazel-bushes. Past tall trees bearing the +edible chestnut in prickly clusters; past maples which in a little +while will be painted in crimson and gold, with the deer peeping out +of the fern everywhere, and once, perhaps, catching a glimpse of a +shy, beautiful, milk-white doe. Past a huge hollow trunk in the +midst of a greensward, where merry picnic parties under the 'King +Oak' tread the social quadrille, or whirl waltzes to the harp and +flute. For there are certain spots even in this grand solitude +consecrated to Cytherea and Bacchus, as he is now worshipped in +champagne. And where can graceful forms look finer, happy eyes more +bright, than in this natural ballroom, under its incomparable roof +of blue, supported upon living columns of stately trees? Still +onward, into a gravel carriage-road now, returning by degrees to +civilization, and here, with happy judgment, the hand of man has +aided Nature. Far as the eye can see extends an avenue of beech, +passing right through the forest. The tall, smooth trunks rise up to +a great height, and then branch overhead, looking like the roof of a +Gothic cathedral. The growth is so regular and so perfect that the +comparison springs unbidden to the lip, and here, if anywhere, that +order of architecture might have taken its inspiration. There is a +continuous Gothic arch of green for miles, beneath which one may +drive or walk, as in the aisles of a forest abbey. But it is +impossible to even mention all the beauties of this place within so +short a space. It must suffice to say that the visitor may walk for +whole days in this great wood, and never pass the same spot twice. +No gates or jealous walls will bar his progress. As the fancy seizes +him, so he may wander. If he has a taste for archæological studies, +especially the prehistoric, the edge of the forest melts away upon +downs that bear grander specimens than can be seen elsewhere. +Stonehenge and Avebury are near. The trout-fisher can approach very +close to it. The rail gives easy communication, but has not spoilt +the seclusion. + +Monsieur Lesseps, of Suez Canal fame, is reported to have said that +Marlborough Forest was the finest he had seen in Europe. Certainly +no one who had not seen it would believe that a forest still existed +in the very heart of Southern England so completely recalling those +woods and 'chases' upon which the ancient feudal monarchs set such +store. + + + + +VILLAGE CHURCHES + + +The black rooks are busy in the old oak-trees, carrying away the +brown acorns one by one in their strong beaks to some open place +where, undisturbed, they can feast upon the fruit. The nuts have +fallen from the boughs, and the mice garner them out of the ditches; +but the blue-black sloes cling tight to the thorn-branch still. The +first frost has withered up the weak sap left in the leaves, and +they whirl away in yellow clouds before the gusts of wind. It is the +season, the hour of half-sorrowful, half-mystic thought, when the +past becomes a reality and the present a dream, and unbidden +memories of sunny days and sunny faces, seen when life was all +spring, float around: + + Dim dream-like forms! your shadowy train + Around me gathers once again; + The same as in life's morning hour, + Before my troubled gaze you passed. + * * * * * + Forms known in happy days you bring, + And much-loved shades amid you spring, + Like a tradition, half expired, + Worn out with many a passing year. + +In so busy a land as ours there is no place where the mind can, as +it were, turn in upon itself so fully as in the silence and solitude +of a village church. + +There is no ponderous vastness, no oppressive weight of gloomy roof, +no weird cavernous crypts, as in the cathedral; only a _visible_ +silence, which at once isolates the soul, separates it from external +present influences, and compels it, in falling back upon itself, to +recognize its own depth and powers. In daily life we sit as in a +vast library filled with tomes, hurriedly writing frivolous letters +upon 'vexatious nothings,' snatching our food and slumber, for ever +rushing forward with beating pulse, never able to turn our gaze away +from the goal to examine the great storehouse, the library around +us. Upon the infinitely delicate organization of the brain +innumerable pictures are hourly painted; these, too, we hurry by, +ignoring them, pushing them back into oblivion. But here, in +silence, they pass again before the gaze. Let no man know for what +real purpose we come here; tell the aged clerk our business is with +brasses and inscriptions, press half a crown into his hand, and let +him pass to his potato-digging. There is one advantage at least in +the closing of the church on week-days, so much complained of--to +those who do visit it there is a certainty that their thoughts will +not be disturbed. And the sense of man's presence has departed from +the walls and oaken seats; the dust here is not the dust of the +highway, of the quick footstep; it is the dust of the past. The +ancient heavy key creaks in the cumbrous lock, and the iron +latch-ring has worn a deep groove in the solid stone. The narrow +nail-studded door of black oak yields slowly to the push--it is not +easy to enter, not easy to quit the present--but once close it, and +the living world is gone. The very style of ornament upon the door, +the broad-headed nails, has come down from the remotest antiquity. +After the battle, says the rude bard in the Saxon chronicle, + + The Northmen departed + In their nailed barks, + +and, earlier still, the treacherous troop that seized the sleeping +magician in iron, Wayland the Smith, were clad in 'nailed armour,' +in both instances meaning ornamented with nails. Incidentally, it +may be noted that, until very recently, at least one village church +in England had part of the skin of a Dane nailed to the door--a +stern reminder of the days when 'the Pagans' harried the land. This +narrow window, deep in the thick wall, has no painted magnificence +to boast of; but as you sit beside it in the square, high-sided pew, +it possesses a human interest which even art cannot supply. + +The tall grass growing rank on the graves without rustles as it +waves to and fro in the wind against the small diamond panes, yellow +and green with age--rustles with a melancholy sound; for we know +that this window was once far above the ground, but the earth has +risen till nearly on a level--risen from the accumulation of human +remains. Yet, but a day or two before, on the Sunday morning, in +this pew, bright, restless children smiled at each other, exchanged +guilty pushes, while the sunbeams from the arrow-slit above shone +upon their golden hair. + +Let us not think of this further, but dimly through the window, 'as +through a glass darkly,' see the green yew with its red berries, and +afar the elms and beeches, brown and yellow. The steep down rises +over them, and the moving grey patch upon it is a flock of sheep. +The white wall is cold and damp, and the beams of the roof overhead, +though the varnish is gone from them, are dark with slow decay. + +In the recess lies the figure of a knight in armour, rudely carved, +beside his lady, still more rudely rendered in her stiff robes, and +of him an ill-spelt inscription proudly records that he 'builded ye +greate howse at'--no matter where; but history records that cruel +war wrapped it in flames before half a generation was gone, so that +the boast of his building great houses reads as a bitter mockery. +There stands opposite a grander monument to a mighty earl, and over +it hangs a breastplate and gauntlets of steel. + +The villagers will tell that in yonder deep shady 'combe' or valley, +in the thick hazel-bushes, when the 'beetle with his drowsy hum' +rises through the night air, there comes the wicked old earl, +wearing this very breastplate, these iron gloves, to expiate one +evil deed of yore. And if we sit in this pew long enough, till the +mind is magnetized with the spirit of the past, till the early +evening sends its shadowy troops to fill the distant corners of the +silent church, then, perhaps, there may come to us forms gliding +noiselessly over the stone pavement of the aisles--forms not +repelling or ghastly, but filling us with an eager curiosity. Then +through the slit made for that very purpose centuries since, when +the pew was in a family chapel--through the slit in the pillar, we +may see cowled monks assemble at the altar, muttering as magicians +might over vessels of gold. The clank of scabbards upon the stones +is stilled, the rustle of gowns is silent; if there is a sound, it +is of subdued sobs, as the aged monk blesses the troop on the eve of +their march. Not even yet has the stern idol of war ceased to demand +its victims; even yet brave hearts and noble minds must perish, and +leave sterile the hopes of the elders and the love of woman. There +is still light enough left to read the few simple lines on the plain +marble slab, telling how 'Lieutenant ----,' at Inkerman, at Lucknow, +or, later still, at Coomassie, fell doing his duty. And these plain +slabs are dearer to us far than all the sculptured grandeur, and the +titles and pomp of belted earl and knight; their simple words go +straighter to our hearts than all the quaint curt Latin of the olden +time. + +The belfry door is ajar--those winding stairs are not easy of +access. The edges are worn away, and the steps strewn with small +sticks of wood; sticks once used by the jackdaws in building their +nests in the tower. It is needful to take much care, lest the foot +should stumble in the semi-darkness. Listen! there is now a slight +sound: it is the dull ticking of the old, old clock above. It is the +only thing with motion here; all else is still, and even its motion +is not life. A strange old clock, a study in itself; all the works +open and visible, simple, but ingenious. For a hundred years it has +carried round the one hour-hand upon the square-faced dial without, +marking every second of time for a century with its pendulum. Here, +too, are the bells, and one, the chief bell, is a noble tenor, a +mighty maker of sound. Its curves are full and beautiful, its colour +clear; its tone, if you do but tap it, sonorous, yet not harsh. It +is an artistic bell. Round the rim runs a rhyme in the monkish +tongue, which has a chime in the words, recording the donor, and +breathing a prayer for his soul. In the day when this bell was made +men put their souls into their works. Their one great object was not +to turn out 100,000 all alike, it was rarely they made two alike. +Their one great object was to construct a work which should carry +their very spirit in it, which should excel all similar works, and +cause men in after-times to inquire with wonder for the maker's +name, whether it was such a common thing as a knife-handle, or a +bell, or a ship. Longfellow has caught the spirit well in the saga +of the 'Long Serpent,' where the builder of the vessel listens to +axe and hammer: + + All this tumult heard the master, + It was music to his ear; + Fancy whispered all the faster, + 'Men shall hear of Thorberg Skafting + For a hundred year!' + +Would that there were more of this spirit in the workshops of our +day! They did not, when such a work was finished, hasten to blaze it +abroad with trumpet and shouting; it was not carried to the topmost +pinnacle of the mountain in sight of all the kingdoms of the earth. +They were contented with the result of their labour, and cared +little where it was placed or who saw it; and so it is that some of +the finest-toned bells in the world are at this moment to be found +in village churches; and for so local a fame the maker worked as +truly, and in as careful a manner, as if he had known his bell was +to be hung in St. Peter's, at Rome. This was the true spirit of art. +Yet it is not altogether pleasant to contemplate this bell; the mind +cannot but reflect upon the length of time it has survived those to +whose joys or sorrows it has lent a passing utterance, and who are +dust in the yard beneath. + + For full five hundred years I've swung + In my old grey turret high, + And many a changing theme I've sung + As the time went stealing by. + +Even the 'old grey turret' shows more signs of age and of decay than +the bell, for it is strengthened with iron clamps and rods to bind +its feeble walls together. Of the pavements, whose flagstones are +monuments, the dates and names worn by footsteps; of the vaults +beneath, with their grim and ghastly traditions of coffins moved out +of place, as was supposed, by supernatural agency, but, as +explained, by water; of the thick walls, in which, in at least one +village church, the trembling victim of priestly cruelty was immured +alive--of these and a thousand other matters that suggest themselves +there is no time to speak. + +But just a word must be spared to notice one lovely spot where two +village churches stand not a hundred yards apart, separated by a +stream, both in the hands of one Vicar, whose 'cure' is, +nevertheless, so scant of souls that service in the morning in one +and in the evening in the other church is amply sufficient. And +where is there a place where springtime possesses such a tender yet +melancholy interest to the heart as in a village churchyard, where +the budding leaves and flowers in the grass may naturally be taken +as symbolical of a still more beautiful springtime yet in store for +the soul? + + + + +BIRDS OF SPRING + + +The birds of spring come as imperceptibly as the leaves. One by one +the buds open on hawthorn and willow, till all at once the hedges +appear green, and so the birds steal quietly into the bushes and +trees, till by-and-by a chorus fills the wood, and each warm shower +is welcomed with varied song. To many, the majority of spring-birds +are really unknown; the cuckoo, the nightingale, and the swallow, +are all with which they are acquainted, and these three make the +summer. The loud cuckoo cannot be overlooked by anyone passing even +a short time in the fields; the nightingale is so familiar in verse +that everyone tries to hear it; and the swallows enter the towns and +twitter at the chimney-top. But these are really only the principal +representatives of the crowd of birds that flock to our hedges in +the early summer; and perhaps it would be accurate to say that no +other area of equal extent, either in Europe or elsewhere, receives +so many feathered visitors. The English climate is the established +subject of abuse, yet it is the climate most preferred and sought by +the birds, who have the choice of immense continents. + +Nothing that I have ever read of, or seen, or that I expect to see, +equals the beauty and the delight of a summer spent in our woods +and meadows. Green leaves and grass, and sunshine, blue skies, and +sweet brooks--there is nothing to approach it; it is no wonder the +birds are tempted to us. The food they find is so abundant, that +after all their efforts, little apparent diminution can be noticed; +to this fertile and lovely country, therefore, they hasten every +year. It might be said that the spring-birds begin to come to us in +the autumn, as early as October, when hedge-sparrows and +golden-crested wrens, larks, blackbirds, and thrushes, and many +others, float over on the gales from the coasts of Norway. Their +numbers, especially of the smaller birds, such as larks, are +immense, and their line of flight so extended that it strikes our +shores for a distance of two hundred miles. The vastness of these +numbers, indeed, makes me question whether they all come from +Scandinavia. That is their route; Norway seems to be the last land +they see before crossing; but I think it possible that their +original homes may have been farther still. Though many go back in +the spring, many individuals remain here, and rejoice in the plenty +of the hedgerows. As all roads of old time led to Rome, so do +bird-routes lead to these islands. Some of these birds appear to +pair in November, and so have settled their courtship long before +the crocuses of St. Valentine. Much difference is apparent in the +dates recorded of the arrivals in spring; they vary year by year, +and now one and now another bird presents itself first, so that I +shall not in these notes attempt to arrange them in strict order. + +One of the first noticeable in southern fields is the common +wagtail. When his shrill note is heard echoing against the walls of +the outhouses as he rises from the ground, the carters and ploughmen +know that there will not be much more frost. If icicles hang from +the thatched eaves, they will not long hang, but melt before the +softer wind. The bitter part of winter is over. The wagtail is a +house-bird, making the houses or cattle-pens its centre, and +remaining about them for months. There is not a farmhouse in the +South of England without its summer pair of wagtails--not more than +one pair, as a rule, for they are not gregarious till winter; but +considering that every farmhouse has its pair, their numbers must be +really large. + +Where wheatears frequent, their return is very marked; they appear +suddenly in the gardens and open places, and cannot be overlooked. +Swallows return one by one at first, and we get used to them by +degrees. The wheatears seem to drop out of the night, and to be +showered down on the ground in the morning. A white bar on the tail +renders them conspicuous, for at that time much of the surface of +the earth is bare and dark. Naturally birds of the wildest and most +open country, they yet show no dread, but approach the houses +closely. They are local in their habits, or perhaps follow a broad +but well-defined route of migration; so that while common in one +place, they are rare in others. In two localities with which I am +familiar, and know every path, I never saw a wheatear. I heard of +them occasionally as passing over, but they were not birds of the +district. In Sussex, on the contrary, the wheatear is as regularly +seen as the blackbird; and in the spring and summer you cannot go +for a walk without finding them. They change their ground three +times: first, on arrival, they feed in the gardens and arable +fields; next, they go up on the hills; lastly, they return to the +coast, and frequent the extreme edge of the cliffs and the land by +the shore. Every bird has its different manner; I do not know how +else to express it. Now, the wheatears move in numbers, and yet not +in concert; in spring, perhaps twenty may be counted in sight at +once on the ground, feeding together and yet quite separate; just +opposite in manner to starlings, who feed side by side and rise and +fly as one. Every wheatear feeds by himself, a space between him and +his neighbour, dotted about, and yet they obviously have a certain +amount of mutual understanding: they recognize that they belong to +the same family, but maintain their individuality. On the hills in +their breeding season they act in the same way: each pair has a wide +piece of turf, sometimes many acres. But if you see one pair, it is +certain that other pairs are in the neighbourhood. In their +breeding-grounds they will not permit a man to approach so near as +when they arrive, or as when the nesting is over. At the time of +their arrival, anyone can walk up within a short distance; so, +again, in autumn. During the nesting-time the wheatear perches on a +molehill, or a large flint, or any slight elevation above the open +surface of the downs, and allows no one to come closer than fifty +yards. + +The hedge-sparrows, that creep about the bushes of the hedgerow as +mice creep about the banks, are early in spring joined by the +whitethroats, almost the first hedge-birds to return. The thicker +the undergrowth of nettles and wild parsley, rushes and rough +grasses, the more the whitethroat likes the spot. Amongst this +tangled mass he lives and feeds, slipping about under the brambles +and ferns as rapidly as if the way was clear. Loudest of all, the +chiff-chaff sings in the ash woods, bare and leafless, while yet the +sharp winds rush between the poles, rattling them together, and +bringing down the dead twigs to the earth. The violets are difficult +to find, few, and scattered; but his clear note rings in the hushes +of the eastern breeze, encouraging the flowers. It is very pleasant +indeed to hear him. One's hands are dry, and the skin rough with the +east wind; the trunks of the trees look dry, and the lichens have +shrivelled on the bark; the brook looks dark; grey dust rises and +drifts, and the grey clouds hurry over; but the chiff-chaff sings, +and it is certainly spring. The first green leaves which the elder +put forth in January have been burned up by frost, and the woodbine, +which looked as if it would soon be entirely green then, has been +checked, and remains a promise only. The chiff-chaff tells the buds +of the coming April rains and the sweet soft intervals of warm sun. +He is a sure forerunner. He defies the bitter wind; his little heart +is as true as steel. He is one of the birds in which I feel a +personal interest, as if I could converse with him. The willow-wren, +his friend, comes later, and has a gentler, plaintive song. + +Meadow-pipits are not migrants in the sense that the swallows are; +but they move about and so change their localities that when they +come back they have much of the interest of a spring-bird. They rise +from the ground and sing in the air like larks, but not at such a +height, nor is the song so beautiful. These, too, are early birds. +They often frequent very exposed places, as the side of a hill where +the air is keen, and where one would not expect to meet with so +lively a little creature. The pond has not yet any of the growths +that will presently render its margin green; the willow-herbs are +still low, the aquatic grasses have not become strong, and the +osiers are without leaf. If examined closely, evidences of growth +would be found everywhere around it; but as yet the surface is open, +and it looks cold. Along the brook the shoals are visible, as the +flags have not risen from the stems which were cut down in the +autumn. In the sedges, however, the first young shoots are thrusting +up, and the reeds have started slender green stalks tipped with the +first leaves. At the verge of the water, a thick green plant of +marsh-marigold has one or two great golden flowers open. This is the +appearance of his home when the sedge-reedling returns to it. +Sometimes he may be seen flitting across the pond, or perched for a +moment on an exposed branch; but he quickly returns to the dry +sedges or the bushes, or climbs in and out the willow-stoles. It is +too bare and open for him at the pond, or even by the brookside. So +much does he love concealment, that although to be near the water is +his habit, for a while he prefers to keep back among the bushes. As +the reeds and reed canary-grass come up and form a cover--as the +sedges grow green and advance to the edge of the water--as the +sword-flags lift up and expand, opening from a centre, the +sedge-reedling issues from the bushes and enters these vigorous +growths, on which he perches, and about which he climbs as if they +were trees. In the pleasant mornings, when the sun grows warm about +eleven o'clock, he calls and sings with scarcely a cessation, and is +answered by his companions up and down the stream. He does but just +interrupt his search for food to sing; he stays a moment, calls, and +immediately resumes his prying into every crevice of the branches +and stoles. The thrush often sits on a bough and sings for a length +of time, apart from his food, and without thinking of it, absorbed +in his song, and full of the sweetness of the day. These restless +sedge-reedlings cannot pause; their little feet are for ever at +work, climbing about the willow-stoles where the wands spring from +the trunk; they never reflect; they are always engaged. This +restlessness is to them a great pleasure; they are filled with the +life which the sun gives, and express it in every motion; they are +so joyful, they cannot be still. Step into the osier-bed amongst +them gently; they will chirp--a note like a sparrow's--just in +front, and only recede a yard at a time as you push through the tall +grass, flags, and underwood. Stand where you can see the brook, not +too near, but so as to see it through a fringe of sedges and +willows. The pink lychnis or ragged robin grows among the grasses; +the iris flowers higher on the shore. The water-vole comes swimming +past, on his way to nibble the green weeds in the stream round about +the great branch which fell two winters since, and remains in the +water. Aquatic plants take root in its shelter. There, too, a +moorhen goes, sometimes diving under the bough. A blackbird flies up +to drink or bathe, never at the grassy edge, but always choosing a +spot where he can get at the stream free from obstruction. The sound +of many birds singing comes from the hedge across the meadow; it +mingles with the rush of the water through a drawn hatch--finches +and linnets, thrush and chiff-chaff, wren and whitethroat, and +others farther away, whose louder notes only reach. The singing is +so mixed and interwoven, and is made of so many notes, it seems as +if it were the leaves singing--the countless leaves--as if they had +voices. + +A brightly-coloured bird, the redstart, appears suddenly in spring, +like a flower that has bloomed before the bud was noticed. Red is +his chief colour, and as he rushes out from his perch to take an +insect on the wing, he looks like a red streak. These birds +sometimes nest near farm-houses in the rickyards, sometimes by +copses, and sometimes in the deepest and most secluded combes or +glens, the farthest places from habitation; so that they cannot be +said to have any preference, as so many birds have, for a particular +kind of locality; but they return year by year to the places they +have chosen. The return of the corncrake or landrail is quickly +recognized by the noise he makes in the grass; he is the noisiest of +all the spring-birds. The return of the goat-sucker is hardly +noticed at first. This is not at all a rare, but rather a local +bird, well known in many places, but in others unnoticed, except by +those who feel a special interest. A bird must be common and +plentiful before people generally observe it, so that there are many +of the labouring class who have never seen the goat-sucker, or would +say so, if you asked them. + +Few observe the migration of the turtle-doves, perhaps confusing +them with the wood-pigeons, which stay in the fields all the winter. +By the time the sap is well up in the oaks all the birds have +arrived, and the tremulous cooing of the turtle-dove is heard by +those engaged in barking the felled trees. The sap rises slowly in +the oaks, moving gradually through the minute interstices or +capillary tubes of this close-grained wood; the softer timber-trees +are full of it long before the oak; and when the oak is putting +forth its leaves it is high spring. Doves stay so much at this time +in the great hawthorns of the hedgerows and at the edge of the +copses that they are seldom noticed, though comparatively large +birds. They are easily seen by any who wish; the 'coo-coo' tells +where they are; and in walking gently to find them, many other +lesser birds will be observed. A wryneck may be caught sight of on a +bough overhead; a black-headed bunting, in the hedge where there is +a wet ditch and rushes; a blackcap, in the birches; and the +'zee-zee-zee' of the tree-pipit by the oaks just through the narrow +copse. + +This is the most pleasant and the best way to observe--to have an +object, when so many things will be seen that would have been passed +unnoticed. To steal softly along the hedgerow, keeping out of sight +as much as possible, pausing now and then to listen as the 'coo-coo' +is approached; and then, when near enough to see the doves, to +remain quiet behind a tree, is the surest way to see everything +else. The thrush will not move from her nest if passed so quietly; +the chaffinch's lichen-made nest will be caught sight of against the +elm-trunk--it would escape notice otherwise; the whitethroat may be +watched in the nettles almost underneath; a rabbit will sit on his +haunches and look at you from among the bare green stalks of brake +rising; mice will rustle under the ground-ivy's purple flowers; a +mole perhaps may be seen, for at this time they often leave their +burrows and run along the surface; and, indeed, so numerous are the +sights and sounds and interesting things, that you will soon be +conscious of the fact that, while you watch one, two or three more +are escaping you. It would be the same with any other search as well +as the dove; I choose the dove because by then all the other +creatures are come and are busy, and because it is a fairly large +bird with a distinctive note, and consequently a good guide. + +But these are not all the spring-birds: there are the whinchats, +fly-catchers, sandpipers, ring-ousels, and others that are +occasional or rare. There is not a corner of the fields, woods, +streams, or hills, which does not receive a new inhabitant: the +sandpiper comes to the open sandy margins of the pool; the +fly-catcher, to the old post by the garden; the whinchat, to the +furze; the tree-pipit, to the oaks, where their boughs overhang +meadow or cornfield; the sedge-reedling, to the osiers; the dove, to +the thick hedgerows; the wheatear, to the hills; and I see I have +overlooked the butcher-bird or shrike, as, indeed, in writing of +these things one is certain to overlook something, so wide is the +subject. Many of the spring-birds do not sing on their first +arrival, but stay a little while; by that time others are here. +Grass-blade comes up by grass-blade till the meadows are freshly +green; leaf comes forth by leaf till the trees are covered; and, +like the leaves, the birds gently take their places, till the hedges +are imperceptibly filled. + + + + +THE SPRING OF THE YEAR + + +'There's the cuckoo!' Everyone looked up and listened as the notes +came indoors from the copse by the garden. He had returned to the +same spot for the fourth time. The tallest birch-tree--it is as tall +as an elm--stands close to the hedge, about three parts of the way +up it, and it is just round there that the cuckoo generally sings. +From the garden gate it is only a hundred yards to this tree, +walking beside the hedge which extends all the way, so that the very +first time the cuckoo calls upon his arrival he is certain to be +heard. His voice travels that little distance with ease, and can be +heard in every room. This year (1881) he came back to the copse on +April 27, just ten days after I first heard one in the fields by +Worcester Park. The difference in time is usual; the bird which +frequents this copse does not arrive there till a week or so after +others in the neighbourhood may be heard calling. So marked is the +interval that once or twice I began to think the copse would be +deserted--there were cuckoos crying all round in the fields, but +none came near. He has, however, always returned, and this +difference in time makes his notes all the more remarked. I have, +therefore, always two dates for the cuckoo: one, when I first hear +the note, no matter where, and the second, when the copse bird +sings. When he once comes he continues so long as he stays in this +country, visiting the spot every day, sometimes singing for a few +minutes, sometimes for an hour, and one season he seemed to call +every morning and all the morning long. In the copse the ring of the +two notes is a little toned down and lost by passing through the +boughs, which hold and check the vibration of the sound. One year a +detached ash in Cooper's Field, not fifty yards from the houses, was +a favourite resort, and while perched there the notes echoed along +the buildings, one following the other as waves roll on the summer +sands. Flying from the ash to the copse, or along the copse hedge, +the cuckoo that year was as often seen as the sparrows, and as +little notice was taken of him. Several times cuckoos have flown +over this house, but just clearing the roof, and descending directly +they were over to the copse. He has not called so much this year +yet, but on the evening of May 8 he was crying in the copse at +half-past eight while the moon was shining. + +On the morning of May 2, standing in the garden, or at the window of +any of the rooms facing south, you could hear five birds calling +together. The cuckoo was calling not far from the tallest birch; +there was a turtle-dove cooing in the copse much closer; and a +wood-pigeon overpowered the dove's soft voice every two or three +minutes--the pigeon was not fifty yards distant; a wryneck was +perched up in an oak at the end of the garden, and uttered his +peculiar note from time to time, and a nightingale was singing on +Tolworth Common, just opposite the house, though on the other side. +These were all audible, sometimes together, sometimes alternately; +and if you went to the northern windows or the front door, looking +towards the common, then you might also hear the chatter of a +brook-sparrow. The dove has a way of gurgling his coo in the throat. +The wryneck's 'kie-kie-kie,' the last syllable plaintively +prolonged, is not like the call or songs of other birds; it reminds +one of the peacock's strange scream, not in its actual sound, but +its singularity. When it is suddenly heard from the midst of the +thick green hedges of a summer's day, the bird itself unseen, it has +a weird sound, which does not accord, like the blackbird's whistle, +with our trees; it seems as if some tropical bird had wandered +hither. I have heard the wryneck calling in the oak at the end of +the garden every morning this season before rising, and suspect, +from his constant presence, that a nest will be built close by. Last +year the wryneck was a scarce bird in this neighbourhood; in all my +walks I heard but two or three, and at long intervals. This year +there are plenty; I hear them in almost every walk I take. There is +one in the orchard beside the Red Lion Inn; another frequents the +hedges and trees behind St. Matthew's Church; up Claygate Lane there +is another--the third or fourth gateway on the left side is the +place to listen. One year a pair built, I am sure, close to the +cottage which stands by itself near the road on Tolworth Common. I +saw them daily perched on the trees in front, and heard them every +time I passed. There were not many, or we did not notice them, at +home, and therefore I have observed them with interest. Now there is +one every morning at the end of the garden. This nightingale, too, +that sings on Tolworth Common just opposite, returns there every +year, and, like the cuckoo to the copse, he is late in his +arrival--at least a week later than other nightingales whose haunts +are not far off. His cover is in some young birch-trees, which form +a leafy thicket among the furze. On the contrary, the brook-sparrow, +or sedge-reedling, that sings there is the first, I think, of all +his species to return in this place. He comes so soon that, +remembering the usual date in other districts, I have more than once +tried to persuade myself that I was mistaken, and that it was not +the sedge-bird, but some other. But he has a note that it is not +possible to confuse, and as it has happened several seasons running, +this early appearance, there can be no doubt it is a fixed period +with him. These two, the sedge-bird and the nightingale, have their +homes so near together that the one often sings in the branches +above, while the other chatters in the underwood beneath. + +Besides these, before I get up I hear now a wren regularly. Little +as he is, his notes rise in a crescendo above all; he sings on a +small twig growing from the trunk of an oak--a bare twig which gives +him a view all round. There is a bold ring in some of the notes of +the wren which might give an idea to a composer desirous of +producing a merry tune. The chirp of sparrows, of course, underlies +all. I like sparrows. The chirp has a tang in it, a sound within a +sound, just as a piece of metal rings; there is not only the noise +of the blow as you strike it, but a sound of the metal itself. Just +now the cock birds are much together; a month or two since the +little bevies of sparrows were all hens, six or seven together, as +if there were a partial separation of the sexes at times. I like +sparrows, and am always glad to hear their chirp; the house seems +still and quiet after this nesting-time, when they leave us for the +wheatfields, where they stay the rest of the summer. What happy days +they have among the ripening corn! + +But this year the thrushes do not sing: I have listened for them +morning after morning, but have not heard them. They used to sing so +continuously in the copse that their silence is very marked: I see +them, but they are silent--they want rain. Nor have our old +missel-thrushes sung here this spring. One season there seem more of +one kind of bird, and another of another species. None are more +constant than the turtle-dove: he always comes to the same place in +the copse, about forty yards from the garden gate. + +The wood-pigeons are the most prominent birds in the copse this +year. In previous seasons there were hardly any--one or two, +perhaps; sometimes the note was not heard for weeks. There might +have been a nest; I do not think so; the pigeons that come seemed +merely to rest _en route_ elsewhere--occasional visitors only. But +last autumn (1880) a small flock of seven or eight took up their +residence here, and returned to roost every evening. They remained +the winter through, and even in the January frosts, if the sun shone +a little, called now and then. Their hollow cooing came from the +copse at midday on January 1, and it was heard again on the 2nd. +During the deep snows they were silent, but I constantly saw them +flying to and fro, and immediately it became milder they recommenced +to call. So that the wood-pigeon's notes have been heard in the +garden--and the house--with only short intervals ever since last +October, and it is now May. In the early spring, while walking up +the Long Ditton road towards sunset, the place from whence you can +get the most extended view of the copse, they were always flying +about the tops of the trees preparatory to roosting. The bare +slender tips of the birches on which they perched exposed them +against the sky. Once six alighted on a long birch-branch, bending +it down with their weight, not unlike a heavy load of fruit. As the +stormy sunset flamed up, tinting the fields with momentary red, +their hollow voices sounded among the trees. + +Now, in May, they are busy; they have paired, and each couple has a +part of the copse to themselves. Just level with the gardens the +wood is almost bare of undergrowth; there is little to obstruct the +sight but the dead hanging branches, and one couple are always up +and down here. They are near enough for us to see the dark marking +at the end of the tail as it is spread open to assist the upward +flight from the ground to the tree. Outside the garden gate, about +twenty yards distant, there stand three or four young spruce-firs; +they are in the field, but so close as to touch the copse hedge. To +the largest of these one of the pigeons comes now and then; he is +half inclined to choose it for his nest, and yet hesitates. The +noise of their wings, as they rise and thresh their strong feathers +together over the tops of the trees, may often be heard in the +garden; or you may see one come from a distance, swift as the wind, +suddenly half close two wings, and, shooting forward, alight among +the branches. They seem with us like the sparrows, as much as if the +house stood in the midst of the woods at home. The coo itself is not +tuneful in any sense; it is hoarse and hollow, yet it has a pleasant +sound to me--a sound of the woods and the forest. I can almost feel +the gun in my hand again. They are pre-eminently the birds of the +woods. Other birds frequent them at times, and then quit the trees: +but the ring-dove is the wood-bird, always there some part of the +day. So that the sound soothes by its associations. + +Coming down the Long Ditton road on May 1, at the corner of the +copse, where there are some hornbeams, I heard some low sweet notes +that came from the trees, and, after a little difficulty, discovered +a blackcap perched on a branch, humped up. Another answered within +ten yards, and then they sang one against the other. The foliage of +the hornbeam was still pale, and the blackcaps' colours being so +pale also (with the exception of the poll), it was not easy to see +them. The song is sweet and cultured, but does not last many +seconds. In its beginning it something resembles that of the +hedge-sparrow--not the pipe, but the song which the hedge-sparrows +are now delivering from the top sprays of the hawthorn hedges. It is +sweet indeed and cultured, and it is a pleasure to welcome another +arrival, but I do not feel enraptured with the blackcap's notes. One +came into the garden, visiting some ivy on the wall, but they are +not plentiful just now. By these hornbeam trees a little streamlet +flows out from the copse and under the road by a culvert. At the +hedge it is crossed by a pole (to prevent cattle straying in), and +this pole is the robin's especial perch. He is always there, or +near; he was there all through the winter, and is there now. +Beneath, where there are a few inches of sand beside the water, a +wagtail comes now and then; but the robin does not like the +intrusion, and drives him away. + +The same oak at the end of the garden, where the wryneck calls, is +also the favourite tree of a cock chaffinch, and every morning he +sings there for at least two hours at a stretch. I hear him first +between waking and sleeping, and listen to his song before my eyes +are open. No starlings whistle on the house-tops this year; I am +disappointed that they have not returned; last year, and the year +before that--indeed, since we have been here--a pair built under the +eaves just above the window of the room I then used. Last spring, +indeed, they filled the gutter with the materials of their nest, and +long after they had left a storm descended, and the rain, unable to +escape, flooded the corner. It cost eight shillings to repair the +damage; but it did not matter, they had been happy. It is a +disappointment not to hear their whistle again this spring, and the +flutter of their wings as they vibrate them superbly while hovering +a moment before entering their cavern. A pair of house-martins built +under the eaves near by one season; they, too, have disappointed me +by not returning, though their nest was not disturbed. Some fate has +probably overtaken late starlings and house-martins. + +Then in the sunny mornings, too, there is the twittering of the +swallows. They were very late this spring at Surbiton. The first of +the species was a bank-martin flying over the Wandle by Wimbledon on +April 25; the first swallow appeared at Surbiton on April 30. As the +bank-martins skim the surface of the Thames--there are plenty +everywhere near the osier-beds and eyots, as just below Kingston +Bridge--their brown colour, and the black mark behind the eye, and +the thickness of the body near the head, cause them to bear a +resemblance to moths. A fortnight before the first swallow the large +bats were hawking up and down the road in the evenings. They seem to +prefer to follow the course of the road, flying straight up it from +the copse to the pond, half-way to Red Lion Lane, then back again, +and so to and fro, sometimes wheeling over the Common, but usually +resuming their voyaging above the highway. Passing on a level with +the windows in the dusk, their wings seem to expand nine or ten +inches. Bats are sensitive to heat and cold. When the north or east +wind blows they do not come out; they like a warm evening. + +A shrike flew down from a hedge on May 9, just in front of me, and +alighted on a dandelion, bending the flower to the ground and +clasping the stalk in his claws. There must have been an insect on +the flower: the bright yellow disk was dashed to the ground in an +instant by the ferocious bird, who came with such force as almost to +lose his balance. Though small, the butcher-bird's decision is +marked in every action, in his very outline. His eagle-like head +sweeps the grass, and in a second he is on his victim. Perhaps it +was a humble-bee. The humble-bees are now searching about for the +crevices in which they make their nests, and go down into every hole +or opening, exploring the depressions left by the hoofs of horses on +the sward when it was wet, and peering under stones and flints +beside the way. Wasps, too, are about with the same purpose, and +wild bees hover in the sunshine. The shrikes are numerous here, and +all have their special haunts, to which they annually return. The +bird that darted on the dandelion flew from the hedge by the +footpath, through the meadow where the stag is generally uncarted, +beside the Hogsmill brook. A pair frequent the bushes beside the +Long Ditton road, not far from the milestone; another pair come to +the railway arch at the foot of Cockrow Hill. In Claygate Lane +there are several places, and in June and July, when they are +feeding their young, the 'chuck-chucking' is incessant. + +Beside the copse on the sward by the Long Ditton road is a favourite +resort of peacock butterflies. On sunny days now one may often be +seen there floating over the grass. White butterflies go +flutter-flutter, continually fanning; the peacock spreads his wide +wings and floats above the bennets. Yellow or sulphur butterflies +are almost rare--things common enough in other places. I seldom see +one here, and, unless it is fancy, fewer the last two seasons than +previously. + +In the ploughed field by Southborough Park, towards the Long Ditton +road, partridges sometimes call now as the sun goes down. The corn +is yet so short and thin that the necks of partridges stand up above +it. One stole out the other evening from the hedge of a field beside +the Ewell road into the corn; his head was high over the green +blades. The meadow close by, the second past the turn, is a +favourite with partridges, though so close to the road and to +Tolworth Farm. Beside Claygate Lane, where the signpost points to +Hook, there is a withybed which is a favourite cover for hares. +There is a gateway (on the left of the lane) just past the signpost, +from which you can see all one side of the osiers; the best time is +when the clover begins to close its leaves for the evening. On May +3, looking over the gate there, I watched two hares enjoying +themselves in the corn; they towered high above it--it was not more +than four or five inches--and fed with great unconcern, though I was +not concealed. A nightingale sang in the bushes within a few yards, +and two cuckoos chased each other, calling as they flew across the +lane; once one passed just overhead. The cuckoo has a note like +'chuck, chuck,' besides the well-known cry, which is uttered +apparently when the bird is much exerted. These two were quite +restless; they were to and fro from the fields on one side of the +lane to those on the other, now up the hedge, now in a tree, and +continually scolding each other with these 'chuck-chucking' sounds. +Chaffinches were calling from the tops of the trees; the chaffinches +now have a note much like one used by the yellow-hammer, different +from their song and from their common 'fink tink.' I was walking by +the same place, on April 24, when there was suddenly a tremendous +screaming and threatening, and, glancing over the fields bordering +on the Waffrons, there were six jays fighting. They screamed at and +followed each other in a fury, real or apparent, up and down the +hedge, and then across the fields out of sight. There were three +jays together in a field by the Ewell road on May 1. + +Just past the bridge over the Hogsmill brook at Tolworth Court there +begins, on the left-hand side of the road, a broad mound, almost a +cover in itself. At this time, before the underwood is up, much that +goes on in the mound can be seen. There are several nightingales +here, and they sometimes run or dart along under the trailing ivy, +as if a mouse had rushed through it. The rufous colour of the back +increases the impression; the hedgerows look red in the sunshine. +Whitethroats are in full song everywhere: they have a twitter +sometimes like swallows. A magpie flew up from the short green corn +to a branch low down an elm, his back towards me, and as he rose his +tail seemed to project from a white circle. The white tips of his +wings met--or apparently so--as he fluttered, both above and beneath +his body, so that he appeared encircled with a white ring. + +The swifts have not come, up to the 10th, but there are young +thrushes about able to fly. There was one at the top of the garden +the other day almost as large as his parent. Nesting is in the +fullest progress. I chanced on a hedge-sparrow's lately, the whole +groundwork of which was composed of the dry vines of the wild white +convolvulus. All the birds are come, I think, except the swift, the +chat, and the redstart: very likely the last two are in the +neighbourhood, though I have not seen them. In the furze on Tolworth +Common--a resort of chats--the land-lizards are busy every sunny +day. They run over the bunches of dead, dry grass--quite white and +blanched--grasping it in their claws, like a monkey with hands and +prehensile feet. They are much swifter than would be supposed. There +was one on the sward by the Ewell road the other morning, quite +without a tail; the creature was as quick as possible, but the grass +too short to hide under till it reached some nettles. + +The roan and white cattle happily grazing in the meadows by the +Hogsmill brook look as if they had never been absent, as if they +belonged to the place, like the trees, and had never been shut up in +the yards through so terrible a winter. The water of the Hogsmill +has a way of escaping like that of larger channels, and has made for +itself a course for its overflow across a corner of the meadow by +the road. A thin place in the rather raised bank lets it through in +flood-time (like a bursting loose of the Mississippi), and down it +rushes towards the moat. Beside the furrows thus soaked now and +then, there are bunches of marsh-marigold in flower, and though the +field is bright with dandelions and buttercups, the marigolds are +numerous enough to be visible on the other side of it, 300 yards or +more distant, and are easily distinguished by their different +yellow. White cuckoo-flowers (_Cardamine_) are so thick in many +fields that the green tint of the grass is lost under their silvery +hue. Bluebells are in full bloom. There are some on the mound +between Claygate and the Ewell road; the footpath to Chessington +from Roxby Farm passes a copse on the left which shimmers in the +azure; on the mound on the right of the lane to Horton they are +plentiful this year--the hedge has been cut, and consequently more +have shot up. Cowslips innumerable. The pond by the Ewell road, +between this and Red Lion Lane, is dotted with white water-crowfoot. +The first that flowered were in the pond in the centre of Tolworth +Common. The understalks are long and slender, and with a filament +rather than leaves--like seaweed--but when the flower appears these +larger leaves float on the surface. Quantities of this ranunculus +come floating down the Hogsmill brook, at times catching against the +bridge. A little pond by the lane near Bone's Gate was white with +this flower lately, quite covered from bank to bank, not a spare +inch without its silver cup. Vetches are in flower; there are always +some up the Long Ditton road on the bank by Swaynes-Thorp. +Shepherd's purse stands up in flower in the waste places, and on the +side of the ditches thick branches of hedge-mustard lift their white +petals. The delicate wind anemones flowered thickly in Claygate Lane +this year. On April 24 the mound on the right-hand side was dotted +with them. They had pushed up through the dead dry oak-leaves of +last autumn. The foliage of the wind anemone is finely cut and +divided, so that it casts a lovely shadow on any chance leaf that +lies under it: it might suggest a design. The anemones have not +flowered there like this since I have known the lane before. They +were thicker than I have ever seen them there. Dog-violets, barren +strawberry, and the yellowish-green spurge are in flower there now. + +The pine in front of my north window began to put forth its catkins +some time since; those up the Long Ditton road are now covered thick +with the sulphur farina or dust. I fancy three different sets of +fruit may sometimes be seen on pines: this year's small and green, +last year's ripe and mature, and that of the year before dry and +withered. The trees are all in leaf now, except the Turkey +oaks--there are some fine young Turkey oaks by Oak Hill Path--and +the black poplars. Oaks have been in leaf some time, except those +that flower and are now garlanded with green. Ash, too, is now in +leaf, and beech. The bees have been humming in the sycamores; the +limes are in leaf, but their flower does not come yet. There were +round, rosy oak-apples on the oak by the garden in the copse on the +9th. This tree is singular for bearing a crop of these apples every +year. Its top was snapped by the snow that fell last October while +yet the leaf was on. I think the apples appear on this oak earlier +than on any about here. As for the orchards, now they are beautiful +with bloom; walking along the hedges, too, you light once now and +then on a crab or a wild apple, with its broad rosy petals showing +behind the hawthorn. On the 7th I heard a corncrake in the meadow +over Thames, opposite the Promenade, a hundred yards below +Messenger's Eyot. It is a favourite spot with the corncrake--almost +the only place where you are nearly sure to hear him. Crake! crake! +So it is now high May, and now midnight. Antares is visible--the +summer star. + + + + +VIGNETTES FROM NATURE + + +I.--SPRING + +The soft sound of water moving among thousands of grass-blades is to +the hearing as the sweetness of spring air to the scent. It is so +faint and so diffused that the exact spot whence it issues cannot be +discerned, yet it is distinct, and my footsteps are slower as I +listen. Yonder, in the corners of the mead, the atmosphere is full +of some ethereal vapour. The sunshine stays in the air there as if +the green hedges held the wind from brushing it away. Low and +plaintive comes the notes of a lapwing; the same notes, but tender +with love. + +On this side by the hedge the ground is a little higher and dry, +hung over with the lengthy boughs of an oak which give some shade. I +always feel a sense of regret when I see a seedling oak in the +grass. The two green leaves--the little stem so upright and +confident, and though but a few inches high, already so completely a +tree--are in themselves beautiful. Power, endurance, grandeur are +there; you can grasp all with your hand and take a ship between the +finger and thumb. Time, that sweeps away everything, is for a while +repelled: the oak will grow when the time we know is forgotten, and +when felled will be mainstay and safety of a generation in a future +century. That the plant should start among the grass to be severed +by the scythe, or crushed by cattle, is very pitiful; I cannot help +wishing that it could be transplanted and protected. O! the +countless acorns that drop in autumn not one in a million is +permitted to become a tree: a vast waste of strength and beauty. +From the bushes by the stile on the left hand (which I have just +passed) follows the long whistle of a nightingale. His nest is near; +he sings night and day. Had I waited on the stile, in a few minutes, +becoming used to my presence, he would have made the hawthorn +vibrate, so powerful is his voice when heard close at hand. There is +not another nightingale along this path for at least a mile, though +it crosses meadows and runs by hedges to all appearance equally +suitable. But nightingales will not pass their limits; they seem to +have a marked-out range as strictly defined as the line of a +geological map. They will not go over to the next hedge, hardly into +the field on one side of a favourite spot, nor a yard farther along +the mound. Opposite the oak is a low fence of serrated green. Just +projecting above the edges of a brook, fast-growing flags have +thrust up their bayonet-tips. Beneath, these stalks are so thick in +the shallow places that a pike can scarcely push a way between them. +Over the brook stand some high maple-trees: to their thick foliage +wood-pigeons come. The entrance to a combe--the widening mouth of a +valley--is beyond, with copses on the slopes. + +Again the plover's notes, this time in the field immediately behind; +repeated, too, in the field on the right hand. One comes over, and +as he flies he jerks a wing upwards and partly turns on his side in +the air, rolling like a vessel in a swell. He seems to beat the air +sideways, as if against a wall, not downwards. This habit makes his +course appear so uncertain: he may go there, or yonder, or in a +third direction, more undecided than a startled snipe. Is there a +little vanity in that wanton flight? Is there a little consciousness +of the spring-freshened colours of his plumage and pride in the +dainty touch of his wings on the sweet wind? His love is watching +his wayward course. He prolongs it. He has but a few yards to fly to +reach the well-known feeding-ground by the brook where the grass is +short; perhaps it has been eaten off by sheep. It is a straight and +easy line--as a starling would fly. The plover thinks nothing of a +straight line: he winds first with the curve of the hedge, then +rises, uttering his cry, aslant, wheels, and returns; now this way, +direct at me, as if his object was to display his snowy breast; +suddenly rising aslant again, he wheels once more, and goes right +away from his object over above the field whence he came. Another +moment and he returns, and so to and fro, and round and round, till, +with a sidelong, unexpected sweep, he alights by the brook. He +stands a minute, then utters his cry, and runs a yard or so forward. +In a little while a second plover arrives from the field behind; +he, too, dances a maze in the air before he settles. Soon a third +joins them. They are visible at that spot because the grass is +short; elsewhere they would be hidden. If one of these rises and +flies to and fro, almost instantly another follows, and then it is +indeed a dance before they alight. The wheeling, maze-tracing, +devious windings continue till the eye wearies and rests with +pleasure on a passing butterfly. These birds have nests in the +meadows adjoining; they meet here as a common feeding-ground. +Presently they will disperse, each returning to his mate at the +nest. Half an hour afterwards they will meet once more, either here +or on the wing. + +In this manner they spend their time from dawn, through the +flower-growing day, till dusk. When the sun arises over the hill +into the sky, already blue, the plovers have been up a long while. +All the busy morning they go to and fro: the busy morning when the +wood-pigeons cannot rest in the copses on the combe side, but +continually fly in and out; when the blackbirds whistle in the oaks; +when the bluebells gleam with purplish lustre. At noontide in the +dry heat it is pleasant to listen to the sound of water moving among +the thousand thousand grass-blades of the mead. The flower-growing +day lengthens out beyond the sunset, and till the hedges are dim the +lapwings do not cease. + +Leaving now the shade of the oak, I follow the path into the meadow +on the right, stepping by the way over a streamlet which diffuses +its rapid current broadcast over the sward till it collects again +and pours into the brook. This next meadow is somewhat more raised, +and not watered; the grass is high, and full of buttercups. Before I +have gone twenty yards a lapwing rises out in the field, rushes +towards me through the air, and circles round my head, making as if +to dash at me, and uttering shrill cries. Immediately another comes +from the mead behind the oak; then a third from over the hedge, and +all those that have been feeding by the bank, till I am encircled +with them. They wheel round, dive, rise aslant, cry, and wheel +again, always close over me, till I have walked some distance, when +one by one they fall off, and, still uttering threats, retire. There +is a nest in this meadow, and, although it is, no doubt, a long way +from the path, my presence even in the field, large as it is, is +resented. The couple who imagine themselves threatened are quickly +joined by their friends, and there is no rest till I have left their +treasures far behind. + + +II.--THE GREEN CORN + +Pure colour almost always gives the idea of fire, or, rather, it is +perhaps as if a light shone through as well as the colour itself. +The fresh green blade of corn is like this--so pellucid, so clear +and pure in its green as to seem to shine with colour. It is not +brilliant--not a surface gleam nor an enamel--it is stained through. +Beside the moist clods the slender flags arise, filled with the +sweetness of the earth. Out of the darkness under--that darkness +which knows no day save when the ploughshare opens its chinks--they +have come to the light. To the light they have brought a colour +which will attract the sunbeams from now till harvest. They fall +more pleasantly on the corn, toned, as if they mingled with it. +Seldom do we realize that the world is practically no thicker to us +than the print of our footsteps on the path. Upon that surface we +walk and act our comedy of life, and what is beneath is nothing to +us. But it is out from that underworld, from the dead and the +unknown, from the cold, moist ground, that these green blades have +sprung. Yonder a steam-plough pants up the hill, groaning with its +own strength, yet all that strength and might of wheels, and piston, +and chains cannot drag from the earth one single blade like these. +Force cannot make it; it must grow--an easy word to speak or write, +in fact full of potency. + +It is this mystery--of growth and life, of beauty and sweetness and +colour, and sun-loved ways starting forth from the clods--that gives +the corn its power over me. Somehow I identify myself with it; I +live again as I see it. Year by year it is the same, and when I see +it I feel that I have once more entered on a new life. And to my +fancy, the spring, with its green corn, its violets, and hawthorn +leaves, and increasing song, grows yearly dearer and more dear to +this our ancient earth. So many centuries have flown. Now it is the +manner with all natural things to gather as it were by smallest +particles. The merest grain of sand drifts unseen into a crevice, +and by-and-by another; after a while there is a heap; a century and +it is a mound, and then everyone observes and comments on it. Time +itself has gone on like this; the years have accumulated, first in +drifts, then in heaps, and now a vast mound, to which the mountains +are knolls, rises up and overshadows us. Time lies heavy on the +world. The old, old earth is glad to turn from the cark and care of +driftless centuries to the first sweet blades of green. + +There is sunshine to-day, after rain, and every lark is singing. +Across the vale a broad cloud-shadow descends the hillside, is lost +in the hollow, and presently, without warning, slips over the edge, +crossing swiftly along the green tips. The sunshine follows--the +warmer for its momentary absence. Far, far down in a grassy combe +stands a solitary corn-rick, conical-roofed, casting a lonely +shadow--marked because so solitary--and beyond it, on the rising +slope, is a brown copse. The leafless branches take a brown tint in +the sunlight; on the summit above there is furze; then more +hill-lines drawn against the sky. In the tops of the dark pines at +the corner of the copse, could the glance sustain itself to see +them, there are finches warming themselves in the sunbeams. The +thick needles shelter them from the current of air, and the sky is +bluer above the pines. Their hearts are full already of the happy +days to come, when the moss yonder by the beech, and the lichen on +the fir-trunk, and the loose fibres caught in the fork of an +unbending bough, shall furnish forth a sufficient mansion for their +young. Another broad cloud-shadow, and another warm embrace of +sunlight. All the serried ranks of the green corn bow at the word of +command as the wind rushes over them. + +There is largeness and freedom here. Broad as the down and free as +the wind, the thought can roam high over the narrow roofs in the +vale. Nature has affixed no bounds to thought. All the palings, and +walls, and crooked fences deep down yonder are artificial. The +fetters and traditions, the routine, the dull roundabout, which +deadens the spirit like the cold moist earth, are the merest +nothing. Here it is easy with the physical eye to look over the +highest roof, which must also always be the narrowest. The moment +the eye of the mind is filled with the beauty of things natural an +equal freedom and width of view comes to it. Step aside from the +trodden footpath of personal experience, throwing away the petty +cynicism bred of petty hopes disappointed. Step out upon the broad +down beside the green corn, and let its freshness become part of +life. + +The wind passes and it bends--let the wind, too, pass over the +spirit. From the cloud-shadow it emerges to the sunshine--let the +heart come out from the shadow of roofs to the open glow of the sky. +High above, the songs of the larks fall as rain--receive it with +open hands. Pure is the colour of the green flags, the slender, +pointed blades--let the thought be pure as the light that shines +through that colour. Broad are the downs and open the aspect--gather +the breadth and largeness of view. Never can that view be wide +enough and large enough; there will always be room to aim higher. As +the air of the hills enriches the blood, so let the presence of +these beautiful things enrich the inner sense. + + + + +A KING OF ACRES + + +I.--JAMES THARDOVER + +A weather-beaten man stood by a gateway watching some teams at +plough. The bleak March wind rushed across the field, reddening his +face; rougher than a flesh-brush, it rubbed the skin, and gave it a +glow as if each puff were a blow with the 'gloves.' His short brown +beard was full of dust blown into it. Between the line of the hat +and the exposed part of the forehead the skin had peeled slightly, +literally worn off by the unsparing rudeness of wintry mornings. +Like the early field veronica, which flowered at his feet in the +short grass under the hedge, his eyes were blue and grey. The petals +are partly of either hue, and so his eyes varied according to the +light--now somewhat more grey, and now more blue. Tall and upright, +he stood straight as a bolt, though both arms were on the gate, and +his ashen walking-stick swung over it. He wore a grey overcoat, a +grey felt hat, grey leggings, and his boots were grey with the dust +which had settled on them. + +He was thinking: 'Farmer Bartholomew is doing the place better this +year; he scarcely hoed a weed last season; the stubble was a tangle +of weeds; one could hardly walk across it. That second team stops +too long at the end of the furrow--idle fellow that. Third team goes +too fast; horses will be soon tired. Fourth team--he's getting +beyond his work--too old; the stilts nearly threw him over there. +This ground has paid for the draining--one, at all events. Never saw +land look better. Looks brownish and moist--moist brownish red. +Query, what colour is that? Ask Mary--the artist. Never saw it in a +picture. Keeps his hedges well; this one is like a board on the top, +thorn-boughs molten together; a hare could run along it (as they +will sometimes with harriers behind them, and jump off the other +side to baffle scent). Now, why is Bartholomew doing his land better +this year? Keen old fellow! Something behind this. Has he got that +bit of money that was coming to him? Done something, they said, last +Doncaster; no one could get anything out of him. Dark as night. Sold +the trainer some oats--that I know. Wonder how much the trainer +pocketed over that transaction? Expect he did not charge them all. +Still, he's a decent fellow. Honesty is uncertain--never met an +honest man. Doubt if world could hang together. Bartholomew is +honest enough; but either he has won some money, or he really does +not want the drawback at audit. Takes care his horses don't look too +well. Notice myself that farmers do not let their teams look so +glossy as a few years ago. Like them to seem rough and uncared +for--can't afford smooth coats these hard times. Don't look very +glossy myself; don't feel very glossy. Hate this wind--hang kings' +ransoms! People who like these winds are telling falsehoods. That's +broken (as one of the teams stopped); have to send to blacksmith. +Knock off now; no good your pottering there. Next team stops to go +and help potter. Third team stops to help second. Fourth team comes +across to help third. All pottering. Wants Bartholomew among them. +That's the way to do a morning's work. Did anyone ever see such +idleness! Group about a broken chain--link snapped. Tie it up with +your leathern garter--not he; no resource. What patience a man needs +to have anything to do with land! Four teams idle over a snapped +link! Rent!--of course they can't pay rent. Wonder if a gang of +American labourers could make anything out of our farms? There they +work from sunrise to sunset. Suppose import a gang and try. Did +anyone ever see such a helpless set as that yonder? Depression--of +course. No go-ahead in them.' + +'Mind opening the gate, you?' said a voice behind; and, turning, the +thinker saw a dealer in a trap, who wanted the gate opened, to save +him the trouble of getting down to do it himself. The thinker did as +he was asked, and held the gate open. The trap went slowly through. + +'Will you come on and take a glass?' said the dealer, pointing with +the butt-end of his whip. 'Crown.' This was sententious for the +Crown in the hamlet. Country-folk speak in pieces, putting the +principal word in a sentence for the entire paragraph. + +The thinker shook his head and shut the gate, carefully hasping it. +The dealer drove on. + +'Who's that?' thought the grey man, watching the trap jolt down the +rough road. 'Wants veal, I suppose. No veal here--no good. Now, +look!' + +The group by the broken chain beckoned to the trap; a lad went +across to it with the chain, got up, and was driven off, so saving +himself half a mile on his road to the forge. + +'Anything to save themselves exertion. Nothing will make them move +faster--like whipping a carthorse into a gallop; it soon dies away +in the old jog-trot. Why, they have actually started again--actually +started!' + +He watched the teams a little longer, heedless of the wind, which he +abused, but which really did not affect him, and then walked along +the hedgerow downhill. Two men were sowing a field on the slope, +swinging the hand full of grain from the hip regular as time itself, +a swing calculated to throw the seed so far, but not too far, and +without jerk. The next field had just been manured, and he stopped +to glance at the crowds of small birds which were looking over the +straw--finches and sparrows, and the bluish grey of pied wagtails. +There were hundreds of small birds. While he stood, a hedge-sparrow +uttered his thin, pleading song on the hedge-top, and a +meadow-pipit, which had mounted a little way in the air, came down +with outspread wings, with a short 'Seep, seep,' to the ground. Lark +and pipit seem near relations; only the skylark sings rising, +descending, anywhere, but the pipits chiefly while slowly +descending. There had been a rough attempt at market-gardening in +the field after this, and rows of cabbage gone up to seed stood +forlorn and ragged. On the top of one of these a skylark was +perched, calling at intervals; for though classed as a non-percher, +perch he does sometimes. Meadows succeeded on the level ground; one +had been covered with the scrapings of roads, a whitish, crumbling +dirt, dry, and falling to pieces in the wind. The grass was pale, +its wintry hue not yet gone, and the clods seemed to make it appear +paler. Among these clods four or five thrushes were seeking their +food; on a bare oak a blackbird was perched, his mate no doubt close +by in the hedgerow; at the margin of a pond a black-and-white +wagtail waded in the water; a blue tit flew across to the corner. +Brown thrushes, dark blackbird, blue tit, and wagtail gave a little +colour to the angle of the meadow. A gleam of passing sunlight +brightened it. Two wood-pigeons came to a thick bush growing over a +grey wall on the other side--for ivy-berries, probably. + +A cart passed at a little distance, laden with red mangolds, fresh +from the pit in which they had been stored; the roots had grown out +a trifle, and the rootlets were mauve. A goldfinch perched on a dry +dead stalk of wild carrot, a stalk that looked too slender to bear +the bird. As the weather-beaten man moved, the goldfinch flew, and +the golden wings outspread formed a bright contrast with the dull +white clods. Crossing the meadow, and startling the wood-pigeons, +our friend scaled the grey walls, putting his foot in a hole left +for the purpose. Dark moss lined the interstices between the +irregular and loosely placed stones. Above, on the bank, and +greener than the grass, grew moss at the roots of ash-stoles and +wherever there was shelter. Broad, rank, green arum leaves crowded +each other in places. Red stalks of herb-robert spread open. The +weather-beaten man gathered a white wild violet from the shelter of +a dead dry oak-leaf, and as he placed it in his buttonhole, paused +to listen to the baying of hounds. Yowp! yow! The cries echoed from +the bank and filled the narrow beechwood within. A shot followed, +and then another, and a third after an interval. More yowping. The +grey-brown head of a rabbit suddenly appeared over the top of the +bank, within three yards of him, and he could see the creature's +whiskers nervously working, as its mind estimated its chances of +escape. Instead of turning back, the rabbit made a rush to get +under an ash-stole, where was a burrow. The yowping went slowly +away; the beeches rang again as if the beagles were in cry. Two +assistant-keepers were working the outskirts, and shooting the +rabbits which sat out in the brushwood, and so were not to be +captured by nets and ferrets. The ground-game was strictly kept +down; the noise was made by half a dozen puppies they had with +them. Passing through the ash-stoles, and next the narrow +beechwood, the grey man walked across the open park, and after +awhile came in sight of Thardover House. His steps were directed +to the great arched porch, beneath which the village folk boasted +a waggon-load could pass. The inner door swung open as if by +instinct at his approach. The man who had so neighbourly opened the +gate to the dealer in the trap was James Thardover, the owner of +the property. Historic as was his name and residence, he was +utterly devoid of affectation--a true man of the land. + + +II.--NEW TITLE-DEEDS + +Deed, seal, and charter give but a feeble hold compared with that +which is afforded by labour. James Thardover held his lands again by +right of labour; he had taken possession of them once more with +thought, design, and actual work, as his ancestors had with the +sword. He had laid hands, as it were, on every acre. Those who work, +own. There are many who receive rent who do not own; they are +proprietors, not owners; like receiving dividends on stock, which +stock is never seen or handled. Their rights are legal only; his +right was the right of labour, and, it might be added, of +forbearance. It is a condition of ownership in the United States +that the settler clears so much and brings so many acres into +cultivation. It was just this condition which he had practically +carried out upon the Thardover estate. He had done so much, and in +so varied a manner, that it is difficult to select particular acts +for enumeration. All the great agricultural movements of the last +thirty years he had energetically supported. There was the draining +movement. The undulating contour of the country, deep vales +alternating with moderate brows, gave a sufficient supply of water +to every farm, and on the lower lands led to flooding and the +formation of marshes. Horley Bottom, where the hay used to be +frequently carried into the river by a June freshet, was now safe +from flood. Flag Marsh had been completely drained, and made some of +the best wheat-land in the neighbourhood. Part of a bark canoe was +found in it; the remnants were preserved at Thardover House, but +gradually fell to pieces. + +Longboro' Farm was as dry now as any such soil could be. More or +less draining had been carried out on twenty other farms, sometimes +entirely at his expense. Sometimes the tenant paid a small +percentage on the sum expended; generally this percentage fell off +in the course of a year or two. The tenant found he could not pay +it. Except on Flag Marsh, the drainage did not pay him £50. Perhaps +it might have done, had the seasons been better; but, as it had +actually happened, the rents had decreased instead of increasing. +Tile-pipes had not availed against rain and American wheat. So far +as income was concerned, he would have been richer had the money so +expended been allowed to accumulate at the banker's. The land as +land was certainly improved in places, as on Bartholomew's farm. +Thardover never cared for the steam-plough; personally, he disliked +it. Those who represented agricultural opinion at the farmers' clubs +and in the agricultural papers raised so loud a cry for it that he +went half-way to meet them. One of the large tenants was encouraged +to invest in the steam-plough by a drawback on his rent, on +condition that it should be hired out to others. The steam-plough, +Thardover soon discovered, was not profitable to the landowner. It +reduced the fields to a dead level. They had previously been thrown +into 'lands,' with a drain-trench on each side. On this dead level +water did not run off quickly, and the growth of weeds increased. +Tenants got into a habit of shirking the extirpation of the weeds. +The best farmers on the estate would not use it at all. To very +large tenants, and to small tenants who could not keep enough +horses, it was profitable at times. It did not appear that a single +sack more of wheat was raised, nor a single additional head of stock +maintained, since the steam-plough arrived. + +Paul of Embersbury, who occupied some of the best meadow and upland +country, a man of some character and standing, had taken to the +shorthorns before Thardover succeeded to the property. Thardover +assisted him in every way, and bought some of the best blood. There +was no home-farm; the house was supplied from Bartholomew's dairy, +and the Squire did not care to upset the old traditionary +arrangements by taking a farm in hand. What he bought went to +Embersbury, and Paul did well. As a consequence, there were good +cattle all over the estate. The long prices formerly fetched by +Paul's method had much fallen off, but substantial sums were still +paid. Paul had faced the depression better than most of them. He +was bitter, as was only natural, against the reaction in favour of +black cattle. The upland tenants, though, had a good many of the +black, in spite of Paul's frowns and thunders after the market +ordinary at Barnboro' town. He would put down his pipe, bustle upon +his feet, lean his somewhat protuberant person on the American +leather of the table, and address the dozen or so who stayed for +spirits and water after dinner, without the pretence of a formal +meeting. He spoke in very fair language, short, jerky sentences, but +well-chosen words. He who had taken the van in improvements thirty +years ago was the bitterest against any proposed change now. Black +cattle were thoroughly bad. + +Another of his topics was the hiring fair, where servant-girls stood +waiting for engagements, and which it was proposed to abolish. Paul +considered it was taking the bread and cheese out of the poor +wenches' mouths. They could stand there and get hired for nothing, +instead of having to pay half a crown for advertising, and get +nothing then. But though the Squire had supported the shorthorns, +even the shorthorns had not prevented the downward course things +agricultural were following. + +Then there was the scientific movement, the cry for science among +the farmers. He founded a scholarship, invited the professors to his +place, lunched them, let them experiment on little pieces of land, +mournful-looking plots. Nothing came of it. He drew a design for a +new cottage himself, a practical plain place. The builders told him +it was far dearer to put up than ornamental but inconvenient +structures. Thardover sunk his money his own way, and very +comfortable cottages they were. Ground-game he had kept down for +years before the Act. Farm-buildings he had improved freely. The +education movement, however, stirred him most. He went into it +enthusiastically. Thardover village was one of the first places to +become efficient under the new legislation. This was a piece of +practical work after his own heart. Generally, legislative measures +were so far off from country people. They affected the condition of +large towns, of the Black Country, of the weavers or miners, distant +folk. To the villages and hamlets of purely agricultural districts +these Acts had no existence. The Education Act was just the reverse. +This was a statute which came right down into the hamlets, which was +nailed up at the cross-roads, and ruled the barn, the plough, and +scythe. Something tangible, that could be carried out and made into +a fact--something he could do. Thardover did it with the +thoroughness of his nature. He found the ground, lent the money, saw +to the building, met the Government inspectors, and organized the +whole. A committee of the tenants were the ostensible authority, the +motive-power was the Squire. He worked at it till it was completely +organized, for he felt as if he were helping to mould the future of +this great country. Broad-minded himself, he understood the immense +value of education, looked at generally; and he thought, too, that +by its aid the farmer and the landowner might be enabled to compete +with the foreigner, who was driving them from the market. No +speeches and no agitation could equal the power concentrated in that +plain school-house; there was nothing from which he hoped so much. + +Only one held aloof and showed hostility to the movement, or rather +to the form it took. His youngest and favourite daughter, Mary, the +artist, rebelled against it. Hitherto she had ruled him as she +choose. She had led in every kind act--acts too kind to be called +charity. She had been the life of the place. Perhaps it was the +strong-minded women whom the cry of education brought to Thardover +House that set ajar some chord in her sensitive mind. Strident +voices checked her sympathies, and hard rule-and-line work like this +repelled her. Till then she had been the constant companion of the +Squire's walks; but while the school was being organized she would +not go with him. She walked where she could not see the plain +angular building; she said it set her teeth on edge. + +When the strident voices had departed, when time had made the +school-house part and parcel of the place, like the cottages, Mary +changed her ways, and occasionally called there. She took a class +once a week of the elder girls, and taught them in her own fashion +at home--most unorthodox teaching it was--in which the works of the +best poets were the chief subjects, and portfolios of engravings +were found on the table. Long since father and daughter had resumed +their walks together. + +It was in this way that James Thardover made his estate his own--he +held possession by right of labour. He was resident ten months out +of twelve, and after all these public and open works he did far more +in private. There was not an acre on the property which he had not +personally visited. The farm-houses and farm-buildings were all +known to him. He rode from tenancy to tenancy; he visited the men at +plough, and stood among the reapers. Neither the summer heat nor the +winds of March prevented him from seeing with his own eyes. The +latest movement was the silo system, the burying of grass under +pressure, instead of making it into hay. By these means the clouds +are to be defied, and a plentiful supply of fodder secured. Time +alone can show whether this, the latest invention, is any more +powerful than steam-plough or guano to uphold agriculture against +the shocks of fortune. But James Thardover would have tried any plan +that had been suggested to him. It was thus that he laid hold on his +lands with the strongest of titles--the work of his own hands. Yet +still the tenants were unable to pay the former rent. Some had +failed or left, and their farms were vacant; and nothing could be +more discouraging than the condition of affairs upon the property. + + +III.--A RING-FENCE: CONCLUSION + +There were great elms in the Out-park, whose limbs or boughs, as +large as the trunk itself, came down almost to the ground. They +touched the tops of the white wild parsley; and when sheep were +lying beneath, the jackdaws stepped from the sheep's back to the +bough and returned again. The jackdaws had their nests in the hollow +places of these elms; for the elm as it ages becomes full of +cavities. These great trees often divided into two main boughs, +rising side by side, and afar off visible as two dark streaks among +the green. For many years no cattle had been permitted in the park, +and the boughs of the trees had grown in a drooping form, as they +naturally do unless eaten or broken by animals pushing against them. +But since the times of agricultural pressure, a large part of the +domain had been fenced off, and was now partly grazed and partly +mown, being called the Out-park. There were copses at the farther +side, where in spring the may flowered; the purple orchis was drawn +up high by the trees and bushes--twice as high as its fellows in the +mead, where a stray spindle-tree grew; and from these copses the +cuckoos flew round the park. + +But the thinnest hedge about the wheat-fields was as interesting as +the park or the covers; and this is the remarkable feature of +English scenery--that its perfection, its beauty, and its interest +are not confined to any masterpiece here and there, walled in or +enclosed, or at least difficult of access and isolated, but it +extends to the smallest portion of the country. Wheatfield hedges +are the thinnest of hedges, kept so that the birds may find no +shelter, and that the numerous caterpillars may not breed in them +more than can be helped. Such a hedge is so low it can be leaped +over, and so narrow that it is a mere screen of twisted hawthorn +branches which can be seen through, like screens of twisted stone in +ancient chapels. But the sparrows come to it, and the finches, the +mice, and weasles, and now and then a crow, who searches along, and +goes in and out and quests like a spaniel. It is so tough, this +twisted screen of branches, that a charge of shot would be stopped +by it; if a pellet or two slid through an interstice, the majority +would be held as if by a shield of wicker-work. Old Bartholomew, the +farmer, sent his men once or twice along with reaping-hooks to clear +away the weeds that grew up here under such slight shelter; but +other farmers were not so careful. Then convolvulus grew over the +thin screen, a corncockle stood up taller than the hedge itself; in +time of harvest, yellow St. John's wort flowered beside it, and +later on, bunches of yellow-weed. + +A lark rose on the other side, and so caused the glance to be lifted +and to look farther, and away yonder was a farm-house at the foot of +a hill. Pale yellow stubble covered the hill, rising like a +background to the red-tile roof, and to the elms beside the house, +among whose branches there were pale yellow spots. Round wheat-ricks +stood in a double row on the left hand--count them, and you counted +the coin of the land, bank-notes in straw--and on the right and in +front were green meads, and horses feeding--horses who had done good +work in plough-time and harvest-time, and would soon be at plough +again. There were green meads, because some green meads are a +necessity of an English farm-house, and there are few without them, +even when in the midst of corn. Meads in which the horses feed, a +pony for the children and for the pony-cart, turkeys, two or three +cows--all the large and small creatures that live about the place. +When the land was torn up and ploughed for corn of old time, these +green enclosures were left to stay on, till now it seems as if +pressure of low prices for wheat would cause the corn-land to again +become pasture. Of old time, golden wheat conquered and held +possession, and now the grass threatens to oust the conqueror. + +Had anyone studied either of these three--the great elms in the +Out-park, or the thin twisted screen of hedge, or the red-tile roof, +and the yellow stubble behind it on the hill--he might have found +material for a picture in each. There was, in truth, in each far +more than anyone could put into a picture, or than anyone could put +into a book; for the painter can but give one aspect of one day, and +the writer a mere catalogue of things; but Nature refreshes the +reality every day with different tints, and as it were new ideas, so +that, although it is always there, it is never twice the same. Over +that stubble on the hill there were other hills, and among these a +combe or valley, in which stood just such another farm-house, but +differently placed, with few trees, and those low, somewhat bare in +its immediate surroundings, but above, on each side, close at hand, +sloping ramparts of green turf rising high, till the larks that sang +above seemed to sing in another land, like that found by Jack when +he clomb the beanstalk. Along this combe was a cover of gorse, and +in spring there was a mile of golden bloom, richer than gold in +colour, leading like a broad highway of gold down to the house. From +those ramparts in high summer--which is when the corn is ripe and +the reapers in it--there could be seen a slope divided into squares +of varied grain. This on the left of the fertile undulation was a +maize colour, which, when the sunlight touched it, seemed to have a +fleeting hue of purple somewhere within. There is no purple in ripe +wheat visible to direct and considering vision; look for it +specially, and it will not be seen. Purple forms no part of any +separate wheat-ear or straw; brown and yellow in the ear, yellow in +the upper part of the straw, and still green towards the earth. But +when the distant beams of sunlight travelling over the hill swept +through the rich ripe grain, for a moment there was a sense of +purple on the retina. Beyond this square was a pale gold piece, and +then one where the reapers had worked hard, and the shocks stood in +diagonal rows; this was a bronze, or brown and bronze, and beside it +was a green of clover. + +Farther on, the different green of the hill turf, and white sheep, +feeding in an extended crescent, the bow of the crescent gradually +descending the sward. The hills of themselves beautiful, and +possessing views which are their property and belong to them--a +twofold value. The woods on the lower slopes full of tall brake +fern, and holding in their shadowy depths the spirit of old time. In +the woods it is still the past, and the noisy mechanic present of +this manufacturing century has no place. Enter in among the +round-boled beeches which the squirrels rush up, twining round like +ivy in ascent, where they nibble the beech-nuts forty feet aloft, +and let the husks drop to your feet; where the wood-pigeon sits and +does not move, safe in the height and thickness of the spray. There +are jew-berries or dew-berries on a bramble-bush, which grows where +the sunlight and rain fall direct to the ground, unchecked by +boughs. They are full of the juice of autumn, black, rich, +vine-like, taken fresh from the prickly bough. Low down in the +hollow is a marshy spot, sedge-grown, and in the sedge lie yellow +leaves of willow already fallen. Here in the later months will come +a woodcock or two, with feathers so brown and leaf-like of hue and +markings that the plumage might have been printed in colours from +brown leaves of beech. No springes are set for the woodcocks now, +but the markings are the same on the feathers as centuries since; +the brown beech-leaves lie in the dry hollows the year through just +as they did then; the large dew-berries are as rich; and the nuts as +sweet. It is the past in the wood, and Time here never grows any +older. Could you bring back the red stag--as you may easily in +fancy--and place him among the tall brake, and under the beeches, he +should not know that a day had gone by since the stern Roundheads +shot down the last of his race hereabouts in Charles I.'s days. For +the leaves are turning as they turned then to the altered colour of +the sun's rays as he declines in his noonday arch, lower and lower +every day; his rays are somewhat yellower than in dry hot June; a +little of the tint of the ripe wheat floats in the sunshine. To this +the woods turn. First, the nut-tree leaves drop, and the green brake +is quickly yellow; the slender birch becomes lemon on its upper +branches; the beech reddens; by-and-by the first ripe acorn falls, +and there's as much cawing of the rooks in the oaks at acorn-time as +at their nests in the elms in March. + +All these things happened in the old, old time before the red stags +were shot down; the leaves changed as the sunbeams became less +brilliantly white; the woodcocks arrived; the mice had the last of +the acorns which had fallen, and which the rooks and jays and +squirrels had spared for them after feasting to the full of their +greediness. This ancient oak, whose thick bark, like cast-iron for +ruggedness at the base, has grown on steadily ever since the last +deer bounded beneath it, utterly heedless of the noisy rattle of +machinery in the northern cities, unmoved by any shriek of engine, +or hum, or flapping of loose belting, or any volume of smoke +drifting into the air--I wish that the men now serving the great +polished wheels, and works in iron and steel and brass, could +somehow be spared an hour to sit under this ancient oak in Thardover +South Wood, and come to know from actual touch of its rugged bark +that the past is living now, that Time is no older, that Nature +still exists as full as ever, and to see that all the factories of +the world have made no difference, and therefore not to pin their +faith to any theory born and sprung up among the crush and +pale-faced life of modern time; but to look for themselves at the +rugged oak-bark, and up to the sky above the highest branches, and +to take an acorn and consider its story and possibilities, and to +watch the sly squirrel coming down, as they sit quietly, to play +almost at their feet. That they might gather to themselves some of +the leaves--mental and spiritual leaves--of the ancient forest, +feeling nearer to the truth and soul, as it were, that lives on in +it. They would feel as if they had got back to their original +existence, and had become themselves, as they ought to be, could +they live such life, untouched by artificial care. Then, how hurt +they would be if any proposed to cut down that oak; if any proposed +the felling of the forest, and the death of its meaning. It would be +like a blow aimed at themselves. No picture that could be bought at +a thousand guineas could come near that ancient oak; but you can +carry away the memory of it, the picture and thought in your mind +for nothing. If the oak were cut down, it would be like thrusting a +stick through some valuable painting on your walls at home. + +The common below the South Wood, even James Thardover with all his +desire for improvement could not do much good with; the soil, and +the impossibility of getting a fall for draining, all checked effort +there. A wild, rugged waste, you say, at first, glancing at the +rushes, and the gaunt signpost standing up among them, the anthills, +and thistles. Thistles have colour in their bloom, and the prickly +leaves are finely cut; rushes--green rushes--are notes of the +season, and with their slender tips point to the days in the book of +the year; they are brown now at the tip, and some bent downwards in +an angle. The brown will descend the stalk till the snipes come with +grey-grass colours in their wings. But all the beatings of the rain +will not cast the rushes utterly down; they will send up fresh green +successors for the spring, for the cuckoo to float along over on his +way to the signpost, where he will perch a few minutes, and call in +the midst of the wilderness. There, too, the lapwings leave their +eggs on the ground among the rushes, and rise, and complainingly +call. The warm showers of June call up the iris in the corner where +the streamlet widens, and under the willows appear large yellow +flowers above the flags. Pink and white blossom of the rest-harrow +comes on bushy plants where the common is dry, and there is heath, +and heather, and fern. The waste has its treasures too--as the +song-thrush has his in the hawthorn bush--its treasures of flowers, +as the wood its beauties of tree and leaf, and the hills their +wheat. + +The ring-fence goes farther than this; it encloses the living +creatures, yet without confining them. The wing of the wood-pigeon, +as the bird perches, forms a defined curve against its body. The +forward edge of the wing--its thickest part--as it is pressed to its +side, draws a line sweeping round--a painter's line. How many +wood-pigeons are there in the South Wood alone, besides the copses +and the fir-plantations? How many turtle-doves in spring in the +hedges and outlying thickets, in summer among the shocks of corn? +And all these are his--the Squire's--not in the sense of possession, +for no true wild creature was ever anyone's yet; it would die first; +but still, within his ring-fence, and their destinies affected by +his will, since he can cut down their favourite ash and hawthorn, or +thin them with shot. Neither of which he does. The robin, methinks, +sings sweetest of autumn-tide in the deep woods, when no other birds +speak or trill, unexpectedly giving forth his plaintive note, +complaining that the summer is going, and the time of love, and the +sweet cares of the nest; telling you that the berries are brown, the +dew-berries over-ripe, and dropping of over-ripeness like dew as the +morning wind shakes the branch; that the wheat is going to the +stack, and that the rusty plough will soon be bright once more by +the attrition of the earth. + +Many of them sing thus in the South Wood, yet scarce any two within +sound of each other, for the robin is jealous, and likes to have you +all to himself as he tells his tale. Song-thrushes--what ranks of +them in April; larks, what hundreds and hundreds of them on the +hills above the green wheat; finches of varied species; blackbirds; +nightingales; crakes in the meadows; partridges; a whole page might +be filled merely with their names. + +These, too, are in the ring-fence with the hills and woods, the +yellow iris of the common, and the red-roofed farm-houses. Besides +which, there are beings infinitely higher--namely, men and women in +village and hamlet, and more precious still, those little children +with hobnail boots and clean jackets and pinafores, who go +a-blackberrying on their way to school. All these are in the +ring-fence. Upon their physical destinies the Squire can exercise a +powerful influence, and has done so, as the school itself testifies. + +Now, is not a large estate a living picture? Or rather, is it not +formed of a hundred living pictures? So beautiful it looks, its +hills, its ripe wheat, its red-roofed farm-houses, and acres upon +acres of oaks; so beautiful, it must be valuable--most valuable; it +is visible, tangible wealth. It is difficult to disabuse anyone's +mind of that idea; yet, as we have seen, with all the skill, +science, and expenditure Thardover could bring to bear upon it, all +his personal effort was in vain. It was a possession, not a profit. +Had not James Thardover's ancestors invested their wealth in +building streets of villas in the outskirts of a great city, he +could not have done one-fifth what he had. Men who had made their +fortunes in factories--the noisy factories of the present +century--paid him high rents for these residences; and thus it was +that the labour and time of the many-handed operatives in mill, +factory, and workshop really went to aid in maintaining these living +pictures. Without that outside income the Squire could not have +reduced the rents of his tenants, so that they could push through +the depression; without that outside income he could not have +drained the lands, put up those good buildings, assisted the +school, and in a hundred ways helped the people. Those who watched +the polished machinery under the revolving shaft, and tended the +loom, really helped to keep the beauties of South Wood, the +grain-grown hills, the flower-strewn meadows. These were so +beautiful, it seemed as if they must represent money--riches; but +they did not. They had a value much higher than that. As the spring +rises in the valley at the foot of the hills and slowly increases +till it forms a river, to which ships resort, so these fields and +woods, meads and brooks, were the source from which the city was +derived. If the operative in the factory, or tending the loom, had +traced his descent, he would have found that his grandfather, or +some scarcely more remote ancestor, was a man of the land. He +followed the plough, or tended the cattle, and his children went +forth to earn higher wages in the town. For the hamlet and the +outlying cottage are the springs whence the sinew and muscle of +populous cities are derived. The land is the fountain-head from +which the spring of life flows, widening into a river. The river at +its broad mouth disdains the spring; the city in its immensity +disdains the hamlet and the ploughman. Yet if the spring ceased, the +ships could not frequent the river; if the hamlet and the ploughman +were wiped out by degrees, the city must run dry of life. Therefore +the South Wood and the park, the hamlet and the fields, had a value +no one can tell how many times above the actual money rental, and +the money earned by the operatives in factory and workshop could +not have been better expended than in supporting it. + +But it had another value still--which they too helped to +sustain--the value of beauty. Parliament has several times +intervened to save the Lake District from the desecrating intrusion +of useless railways. So, too, the beauty of these woods, and +grain-grown hills, of the very common, is worth preservation at the +hands and votes of the operatives in factory and mill. If a man +loves the brick walls of his narrow dwelling in a close-built city, +and the flowers which he has trained with care in the window, how +much more would he love the hundred living pictures like those round +about Thardover House! After any artificer had once seen such an oak +and rested under it, if any threatened to cut it down, he would feel +as if a blow had been delivered at his heart. His efforts, +therefore, should be not to destroy these pictures, but to preserve +them. All the help that they can give is needed to assist a King of +Acres in his struggle, and the struggle of the farmers and +labourers--equally involved--against the adverse influences which +press so heavily on English agriculture. + + + + +THE STORY OF SWINDON + + +We have all of us passed through Swindon Station, whether _en route_ +to Southern Wales, to warm Devon--the fern-land--to the Channel +Islands, or to Ireland. The ten minutes for refreshment, now in the +case of certain trains reduced to five, have made thousands of +travellers familiar with the name of the spot. Those who have not +actually been there can recall to memory a shadowy tradition which +has grown up and propagated itself, that here the soup skins the +tongue, and that generally it is a near relative of the famous +'Mugby Junction.' Those who have been there retain at least a +confused recollection of large and lofty saloons, velvet sofas, +painted walls, and long semicircular bars covered with glittering +glasses and decanters. Or it may be that the cleverly executed +silver model of a locomotive under a glass case lingers still in +their memories. At all events Swindon is a well-known oasis, +familiar to the travelling public. Here let us do an act of justice. +Much has been done of late to ameliorate many of the institutions +which formerly led to bitter things being said against the place. +The soup is no longer liquid fire, the beer is not lukewarm, the +charges are more moderate; the lady manager has succeeded in +substituting order for disorder, comfort and attention in place of +lofty disdain. Passengers have not got to cross the line for a fresh +ticket or to telegraph; the whole place is reformed. So much the +better for the traveller. But how little do these birds of passage +imagine the varied interest of the strange and even romantic story +which is hidden in this most unromantic spot, given over, as it +seems, to bricks and mortar! + +Not that it ever had a history in the usual sense. There is but a +faint, dim legend that the great Sweyn halted with his army on this +hill--thence called Sweyn's dune, and so Swindon. There is a family +here whose ancestry goes back to the times of the Vikings; which was +in honour when Fair Rosamond bloomed at Woodstock; which fought in +the great Civil War. Nothing further. The real history, written in +iron and steel, of the place began forty years ago only. Then a +certain small party of gentlemen sat down to luncheon on the +greensward which was then where the platform is now. The furze was +in blossom around them; the rabbits frisked in and out of their +burrows; two or three distant farm-houses, one or two cottages, +these were all the signs of human habitation, except a few cart-ruts +indicating a track used for field purposes. There these gentlemen +lunched, and one among them, ay, two among them, meditated great +things, which the first planned, and the second lived to see realize +the most sanguine anticipations. These two gentlemen were Isambard +Brunel and Daniel Gooch. Driven away from the original plan, which +was to follow the old coach-road, they had come here to survey and +reconnoitre a possible track running in the valley at the northern +edge of the great range of Wiltshire Downs. They decided that here +should be their junction and their workshop. Immense sacrifices, +enormous expenditure, the directors of the new railway incurred in +their one great idea of getting it finished! They could not stay to +cart the earth from the cuttings to the places where it was required +for embanking, so where they excavated thousands of tons of clay +they purchased land to cast it upon out of their way; and where they +required an embankment they purchased a hill, and boldly removed it +to fill up the hollow. They could not stay for the seasons, for +proper weather to work in, and in consequence of this their clay +embankment, thrown up wet and saturated, swelled out, bulged at the +sides, and could not be made stable, till at last they drove rows of +piles on each side, and chained them together with chain-cables, and +so confined the slippery soil. They drove these piles, tall +beech-trees, 20 feet into the earth, and at this day every train +passes over tons of chain-cables hidden beneath the ballast. The +world yet remembers the gigantic cost of the Box Tunnel, and how +heaven and earth were moved to get the line open; and at last it was +open, but at what a cost!--a cost that hung like a millstone round +the neck of the company, till a man rose into power who had the +talent of administration, and that man was the very companion of +Brunel whom we saw lunching among the furze-bushes. Reckless as the +expenditure was, one cannot but admire the determination which +overcame every obstacle. For the great line a workshop was needed, +and that workshop was built at Swindon. The green fields were +covered with forges, the hedges disappeared to make way for cottages +for the workmen. The workmen required food--tradesmen came and +supplied that food--and Swindon rose as Chicago rose, as if by +magic. From that day to this additions have been made, and other +departments concentrated upon this one spot, till at the present +time the factory covers a space equal to that of a moderate farm, +and employs nearly four thousand workmen, to whom three hundred +thousand pounds are yearly paid, whereby to purchase their daily +bread. But at that early stage the difficulty was to find +experienced workmen, and still greater to discover men who could +superintend them. For these it was necessary to go up into the +shrewd North, which had already foreseen the demand that must arise, +and had partially educated her children in the new life that was +about to dawn on the world; and so it is that to this time the names +of those who are in authority over this army of workers carry with +them in their sound a strong flavour of the heather and the brae, +and seem more in accordance with ideas of 'following the wild deer' +than of a dwelling in the midst of the clangour and smoke. + +All these new inhabitants of the hitherto deserted fields had to be +lodged, and in endeavouring to solve this problem the company were +induced to try an experiment which savoured not a little of +communism, though not so intended. A building was erected which was +locally called the 'barracks,' and it well deserved the name, for at +one time as many as perhaps five hundred men found shelter in it. It +was a vast place, with innumerable rooms and corridors. The +experiment did not altogether answer, and was in time abandoned, +when the company built whole streets, and even erected a covered +market-place for their labourers. They went further, and bore the +chief expense in building a church. A reading-room was started, and +grew and grew till a substantial place was required for the +accommodation of the members. Finally, the 'barracks' was converted +into a place of worship for a Dissenting body, and a grand hall it +afforded when the interior was removed and only the shell left. But +by this time vast changes had taken place, and great extensions had +arisen through private energy. This land was the poorest in the +neighbourhood; low-lying, shallow soil on top of an endless depth of +stiff clay, worthless for arable purposes, of small value for +pasture, covered with furze, rushes, and rowen; so much so that when +a certain man with a little money purchased a good strip of it, he +was talked of as a fool, and considered to have committed a most +egregious error. How vain is human wisdom! In a few years the +railway came. Land rose in price, and this very strip brought its +owner thousands; so that the fool became wise, and the wise was +deemed of no account. Private speculators, seeing the turn things +were taking, ran up rows of houses; building societies stepped in +and laid out streets; a whole town seemed to start into being at +once. Still the company continued to concentrate their works at the +junction, and at last added the culminating stroke by bringing the +carriage department here, which was like planting a new colony. A +fresh impulse was given to building; fresh blocks and streets arose; +companies were formed to burn bricks--one of these makes bricks by +steam, and can burn a quarter of a million at once in their kiln. +This in a place where previously the rate of building was five new +houses in twenty years! Sanitary districts were mapped out; boards +of control elected; gas companies; water companies--who brought +water out of the chalk hills three miles distant: all the +distinctive characteristics of a city arose into being. Lastly came +a sewage farm, for so great was the sewage that it became a burning +question how to dispose of it, and on this sewage farm some most +extraordinary results have been obtained, such as mangolds with +leaves four feet in length--a tropical luxuriance of growth. One +postman had sufficed, then two, then three, till a strong staff had +to be organized, in regular uniform, provided with bull's-eye +lanthorns to pick their way in and out of the dark and dirty +back-streets. One single constable had sufficed, and a dark hole had +done duty as a prison. Now a superintendent and other officers, a +full staff, and a complete police-station, with cells, justice-room, +all the paraphernalia were required; and so preposterous did this +seem to other towns, formerly leading towns in the country, but +which had remained stagnant while Swindon went ahead, that they +bitterly resented the building, and satirized it as a 'Palace of +Justice,' though, in good truth, sorely needed. A vast corn +exchange, a vaster drill-hall for the workmen--who had formed a +volunteer corps--to drill in, chapels of every description, and some +of really large size--all these arose. + +The little old town on the hill a mile from the station felt the +wave of progress strongly. The streets were paved; sewers driven +under the town at a depth of 40 feet through solid stone, in order +to dispose of the sewage on a second sewage farm of over 100 acres. +Shops, banks, and, above all, public-houses, abounded and increased +apace, especially in the new town, where every third house seemed to +be licensed premises. The cart-track seen by the luncheon-party in +the furze was laid down and macadamized, and a street erected, named +after the finest street in London, full of shops of all +descriptions. Every denomination, from the Plymouth Brethren to the +Roman Catholics, had their place of worship. Most of the tradesmen +had two branches, one in the upper and one in the lower town, and +the banks followed their example. Not satisfied with two railways, +two others are now in embryo--one a link in the long-talked-of +through communication between North and South, from Manchester to +Southampton, the other a local line with possible extensions. A +population of barely 2,000 has risen to 15,000, and this does not +nearly represent the real number of inhabitants, for there is a +large floating population, and, in addition, five or six villages +surrounding the town are in reality merely suburbs, and in great +part populated by men working in the town. These villages have +shared in the general movement, and some of them have almost trebled +in size and importance. This population is made up of the most +incongruous elements: labouring men of the adjacent counties who +have left the plough and the sickle for the hammer and the spade; +Irish in large numbers; Welshmen, Scotch, and North of England men; +stalwart fellows from York and places in a similar latitude. Yet, +notwithstanding all the building that has been going on, despite the +rush of building societies and private speculators, the cry is +still, 'More bricks and mortar,' for there exists an enormous amount +of overcrowding. The high rents are almost prohibitory, and those +who take houses, underlet them and sublet them, till in six rooms +three families may be living. The wages are good, ranging from 18s. +for common labourers to 30s., 36s., 40s., and more for skilled +mechanics, and the mode in which they live affords an illustrative +contrast to the agricultural population immediately surrounding the +place. As if to complete the picture, that nothing might be wanting, +a music-hall has been opened, where for threepence the workman may +listen to the dulcet strains of 'London artistes' while he smokes +his pipe. + +Can a more striking, a more wonderful and interesting spectacle +be seen than this busy, Black-Country-looking town, with its +modern associations, its go-ahead ways, in the midst of a purely +agricultural country, where there are no coal or iron mines, +where in the memory of middle-aged men there was nothing but +pasture-fields, furze, and rabbits? In itself it affords a +perfect epitome of the spirit of the nineteenth century. + +And much, if not all, of this marvellous transformation, of this +abounding life and vigorous vitality, is due to the energy and the +forethought, the will of one man. It is notorious that the Swindon +of to-day is the creation of the companion of Brunel at the lunch in +the furze-bushes. Sir Daniel Gooch has had a wonderful life. +Beginning literally at the beginning, he rose from stage to stage, +till he became the responsible head of the vast company in whose +service he had commenced life. In that position he did not forget +the place where his early years were passed, but used his influence +to enrich it with the real secret of wealth, employment for the +people. In so doing, time has proved that he acted for the best +interests of the company, for, apart from monetary matters, the mass +of workmen assembled at this spot are possessed of overwhelming +political power, and can return the man they choose to Parliament. +Thus the company secures a representative in the House of Commons. + +Among the institutions which the railway company fostered was the +primitive reading-room which has been alluded to. Under their care +this grew and grew, until it became a Mechanics' Institute, or, +rather, a department of science and art, which at the present day +has an intimate connection with South Kensington. Some hundred +prizes are here annually distributed to the numerous students, both +male and female, who can here obtain the very best instruction, at +the very smallest cost, in almost every branch of learning, from +sewing to shorthand, from freehand drawing to algebra and conic +sections. On one occasion, while distributing the prizes to the +successful competitors, Sir Daniel Gooch laid bare some of his early +struggles as an incentive to the youth around him. He admitted that +there was a time, and a dark hour, when he all but gave up hopes of +ultimate success, when it seemed that the dearest wish of his heart +must for ever go without fulfilment. In this desponding mood he was +slowly crossing a bridge in London, when he observed an inscription +upon the parapet--_Nil Desperandum_ (Never despair). How he took +heart at this as an omen, and went forth and persevered till----The +speaker did not complete the sentence, but all the world knows what +ultimately happened, and remembers the man who laid the first +Atlantic cable. The great lesson of perseverance, of patience, was +never drawn with better effect. + +In the Eastern tales of magicians one reads of a town being found +one day where there was nothing but sand the day before. Here the +fable is fact, and the potent magician is Steam. Here is, perhaps, +the greatest temple that has ever been built to that great god of +our day. Taking little note of its immense extent, of the vast walls +which enclose it, like some fortress, of the tunnel which gives +entrance, and through which three thousand workmen pass four times a +day, let us enter at once and go straight to the manufacture of +those wheels and tires and axles of which we have heard so much +since the tragedy at Shipton. To look at a carriage-wheel, the iron +carriage-wheel, one would imagine that it was all one piece, that it +was stamped out at a blow, so little sign is there of a junction of +parts. The very contrary is the fact: the wheel is made of a large +number of pieces of iron welded together, and again and again welded +together, till at last it forms one solid homogeneous mass. The +first of these processes consists in the manufacture of the spokes, +which are made out of fine iron. The spoke is made in two pieces, at +two different forges, and by two distinct gangs of men. A third +forge and a third gang are constantly employed in welding these two +detached parts in one continuous piece, forming a spoke. One of +these parts resembles a [T] with the downward stroke very short, and +the cross stroke at the top slightly bent, so as to form a section +of a curve. The other piece is about the same length, but rather +thicker, and at its larger end somewhat wedge-shaped. This last +piece forms that part of the spoke which goes nearest to the centre +of the wheel. These two parts, when completed, are again heated to a +red heat, and in that ductile state hammered with dexterous blows +into one, which then resembles the same letter [T], only with the +downward stroke disproportionately long. Eight or more of these +spokes, according to the size of the wheel, and whether it is +intended for a carriage, an engine, or tender, are then arranged +together on the ground, so that the wedge-shaped ends fit close +together, and in that position are firmly fixed by the imposition +above them of what is called a 'washer,' a flat circular piece of +iron, which is laid red-hot on the centre of the embryo wheel, and +there hammered into cohesion. The wheel is then turned over, and a +second 'washer' beaten on, so that the partially molten metal runs, +and joins together with the particles of the spokes, and the whole +is one mass. In the ordinary cart-wheel or gig-wheel the spokes are +placed in mortise-holes made in a solid central block; but in this +wheel before us, the ends of the spokes, well cemented together by +the two washers, form the central block or boss. The ends of the +spokes do not quite touch each other, and so a small circular space +is left which is subsequently bored to fit the axle. The wheel now +presents a curiously incomplete appearance, for the top strokes of +the [T]'s do not touch each other. There is a space between each, +and these spaces have now to be filled with pieces of red-hot iron +well welded and hammered together. To the uninitiated it would seem +that all this work is superfluous; that the wheel might be made much +more quickly in two or three pieces, instead of all these, and that +it would be stronger. But the practical men engaged in the work say +differently. It is their maxim that the more iron is hammered, the +stronger and better it becomes; therefore all this welding adds to +the strength of the wheel. In practice it is found quicker and more +convenient to thus divide the labour than to endeavour to form the +wheel of fewer component parts. The wheel is now taken to the lathe, +and a portion is cut away from its edge, till a groove is left so as +to dovetail into the tyre. + +The tyres, which are of steel, are not made here; they come ready to +be placed upon the wheel, and some care has to be taken in moving +them, for, although several inches in thickness and of enormous +strength, it has occasionally happened that a sudden jar from other +solid bodies has fractured them. One outer edge of the tyre is +prolonged, so to say, and forms the projecting flange which holds +the rails and prevents the carriage from running off the road. So +important a part requires the best metal and the most careful +manufacture, and accordingly no trouble or expense is spared to +secure suitable tyres. One of the inner edges of the tyre, on the +opposite side to the flange, is grooved, and this groove is intended +to receive the edge of the wheel itself; they dovetail together +here. The tyre is now made hot, and the result of that heating is an +expansion of the metal, so that the circle of the tyre becomes +larger. The wheel is then driven into the tyre, which fits round it +like a band. As it grows cool the steel tyre clasps the iron wheel +with enormous force, and the softer metal is driven into the groove +of the steel. But this is not all. The wheel is turned over, and the +iron wheel is seen to be some little distance sunk, as it were, +beneath the surface of the tyre. Immediately on a level with the +iron wheel there runs round the steel tyre another deeper groove. +The wheel is again heated--not to redness, for the steel will not +bear blows if too hot--and when the tyre is sufficiently warm, a +long, thin strip of iron is driven into this groove, and so shuts +the iron wheel into the tyre as with a continuous wedge. Yet another +process has to follow--yet another safeguard against accident. The +tyre, once more heated, is attacked with the blows of three heavy +sledge-hammers, wielded by as many stalwart smiths, and its inner +edge, by their well-directed blows, bent down over the narrow band +of iron, or continuous wedge, so that this wedge is closed in by +what may be called a continuous rivet. The wheel is now complete, so +far as its body is concerned, and to look at, it seems very nearly +impossible that any wear or tear, or jar or accident, could +disconnect its parts--all welded, overlapped, dovetailed as they +are. Practically it seems the perfection of safety; nor was it to a +wheel of this character that _the_ accident happened. The only +apparent risk is that there may be some slight undiscovered flaw in +the solid steel which, under the pressure of unforeseen +circumstances, may give way. But the whole design of the wheel is to +guard against the ill-effects that would follow the snapping of a +tyre. Suppose a tyre to 'fly'--the result would be a small crack; +supposing there were two cracks, or ten cracks, the speciality of +this wheel is that not one of those pieces could come off--that the +wheel would run as well and as safely with a tyre cracked through in +a dozen places as when perfectly sound. The reason of this is that +every single quarter of an inch of the tyre is fixed irremovably to +the outer edge of the iron wheel, by the continuous dovetail, by the +continuous wedge, and by the continuous overlapping. So that under +no condition could any portion of the tyre fly off from the wheel. +Close by this wheel thus finished upon this patent process there was +an old riveted wheel which had been brought in to receive a new tyre +on the new process. This old wheel aptly illustrates the advantages +of the new one. Its tyre is fixed to the wheel by rivets or bolts +placed at regular intervals. Now, the holes made for these bolts to +some extent weaken both tyre and wheel. The bolt is liable, with +constant shaking, to wear loose. The bolt only holds a very limited +area of tyre to the wheel. If the tyre breaks in two places between +the bolts, it comes off. If a bolt breaks, or the tyre breaks at the +bolt, it flies. The tyre is, in fact, only fixed on in spots with +intervals between. The new fastening leaves no intervals, and +instead of spots is fixed everywhere. This is called the Gibson +process, and was invented by an employé of the company. Latterly +another process has partially come into vogue, particularly for +wooden wheels, which are preferred sometimes on account of their +noiselessness. By this (the Mansell) process, the tyres, which are +similar, are fastened to the wheels by two circular bands which +dovetail into the tyre, and are then bolted to the wood. + +To return to the wheel--now really and substantially a wheel, but +which has still to be turned so as to run perfectly true upon the +metals--it is conveyed to the wheel lathe, and affixed to what looks +like another wheel, which is set in motion by steam-power, and +carries our wheel round with it. A workman sets a tool to plane its +edge, which shaves off the steel as if it were wood, and reduces it +to the prescribed scale. Then, when its centre has been bored to +receive the axle, the genesis of the wheel is complete, and it +enters upon its life of perpetual revolution. How little do the +innumerable travellers who are carried to their destination upon it +imagine the immense expenditure of care, skill, labour, and thought +that has been expended before a perfect wheel was produced. + +Next in natural order come the rails upon which the wheel must run. +The former type of rail was a solid bar of iron, whose end presented +a general resemblance to the letter [T], which was thick at the top +and at the bottom, and smaller in the middle. It was thought that +this rail was not entirely satisfactory, for reasons that cannot be +enumerated here, and accordingly a patent was taken out for a rail +which, it is believed, can be more easily and cheaply manufactured, +with a less expenditure of metal, and which can be more readily +attached to the sleepers. In reality it is designed upon the +principle of the arch, and the end of these rails somewhat +resembles the Greek letter [Omega], for they are hollow, and formed +of a thin plate of metal rolled into this shape. Coming to this very +abode of the Cyclops, the rail-mill, the first machine that appears +resembles a pair of gigantic scissors, which are employed day and +night in snipping off old rails and other pieces of iron into +lengths suitable for the manufacture of new rails. + +These scissors, or, perhaps, rather pincers, are driven by +steam-power, and bite off the solid iron as if it were merely strips +of ribbon. There is some danger in this process, for occasionally +the metal breaks and flies, and men's hands are severely injured. At +a guess, the lengths of iron for manufacture into rails may be about +four feet long, and are piled up in flat pieces eight or nine inches +or more in height. These pieces are carried to the furnace, heated +to an intense heat, and then placed under the resistless blows of a +steam-hammer, which welds them into one solid bar of iron, longer +than the separate pieces were. The bar then goes back to the +furnace, and again comes out white-hot. The swinging-shears seize +it, and it is swung along to the rollers. These rollers are two +massive cylindrical iron bars which revolve rapidly one over the +other. The end of the white-hot metal is placed between these +rollers, and is at once drawn out into a long strip of iron, much as +a piece of dough is rolled out under the cook's rolling-pin. It is +now perfectly flat, and entirely malleable. It is returned to the +furnace, heated, brought back, and placed in a second pair of +rollers. This second pair have projections upon them, which so +impress the flat strip of iron that it is drawn out into the +required shape. The rail passes twice through these rollers, once +forwards, then backwards. Terrible is the heat in this fiery spot. +The experienced workman who guides the long red-hot rails to the +mouth of the rollers is protected with a mask, with iron-shod shoes, +iron greaves on his legs, an iron apron, and, even further, with a +shield of iron. The very floor beneath is formed of slabs of iron +instead of slabs of stone, and the visitor very soon finds this iron +floor too hot for his feet. The perfect rail, still red-hot or +nearly, is run back to the circular saw, which cuts it off in +regular lengths; for it is not possible to so apportion the iron in +each bundle as to form absolutely identical strips. They are +proportioned so as to be a little longer than required, and then +sawn off to the exact length. While still hot, a workman files the +sawn ends so that they may fit together closely when laid down on +the sleepers. The completed rails are then stacked for removal on +trucks to their destination. The rollers which turn out these rails +in so regular and beautiful a manner are driven by a pair of engines +of enormous power. The huge fly-wheel is twenty feet in diameter, +and weighs, with its axle, thirty-five tons. When these rails were +first manufactured, the rollers were driven direct from the axle of +the fly-wheel, and the rails had to be lifted right over the +roller--a difficult and dangerous process--and again inserted +between them on the side at which it started. Since then an +improvement has been effected, by which the rails are sent backwards +through the rollers, thus avoiding the trouble of lifting them over. +This is managed by reversing the motion of the rollers, which is +done in an instant by means of a 'crab.' + +Immediately adjacent to these rail-mills are the steam-hammers, +whose blows shake the solid earth. The largest descends with the +force of seventy tons, yet so delicate is the machinery that +visitors are shown how the same ponderous mass of metal and the same +irresistible might can be so gently administered as to crush the +shell of a nut without injuring the kernel. These hammers are +employed in beating huge masses of iron into cranks for engines, and +other heavy work which is beyond the unaided strength of man. Each +of the hammers has its own steam-boiler and its furnace close at +hand, and overhead there are travelling cranes which convey the +metal to and fro. These boilers may be called vertical, and with the +structure on which they are supported have a dome-like shape. +Hissing, with small puffs of white steam curling stealthily upwards, +they resemble a group of volcanoes on the eve of an eruption. This +place presents a wonderful and even terrible aspect at night, when +the rail-mill and steam-hammers are in full swing. The open doors of +the glaring furnaces shoot forth an insupportable beam of brilliant +white light, and out from among the glowing fire comes a massive bar +of iron, hotter, whiter than the fire itself--barely to be looked +upon. It is dragged and swung along under the great hammer; Thor +strikes, and the metal doubles up, and bends as if of plastic clay, +and showers of sparks fly high and far. What looks like a long strip +of solid flame is guided between the rollers, and flattened and +shaped, till it comes out a dull-red-hot rail, and the sharp teeth +of the circular saw cut through it, throwing out a circle of sparks. +The vast fly-wheel whirls round endless shaftings, and drums are +revolving overhead, and the ear is full of a ceaseless overpowering +hum, varied at intervals with the sharp scraping, ringing sound of +the saw. The great boilers hiss, the furnaces roar, all around there +is a sense of an irresistible power, but just held in by bars and +rivets, ready in a moment to rend all asunder. Masses of glowing +iron are wheeled hither and thither in wheelbarrows; smaller blocks +are slid along the iron floor. Here is a heap of red-hot scraps +hissing. A sulphurous hot smell prevails, a burning wind, a fierce +heat, now from this side, now from that, and ever and anon bright +streaks of light flow out from the open furnace doors, casting +grotesque shadows upon the roof and walls. The men have barely a +human look, with the reflection of the fire upon them; mingling thus +with flame and heat, toying with danger, handling, as it seems, +red-hot metal with ease. The whole scene suggests the infernal +regions. A mingled hiss and roar and thud fill the building with +reverberation, and the glare of the flames rising above the chimneys +throws a reflection upon the sky, which is visible miles away, like +that of a conflagration. + +Stepping out of this pandemonium, there are rows upon rows of +gleaming forges, each with its appointed smiths, whose hammers rise +and fall in rhythmic strokes, and who manufacture the minor portions +of the incipient locomotive. Here is a machine the central part of +which resembles a great corkscrew or spiral constantly revolving. A +weight is affixed to its inclined plane, and is carried up to the +required height by the revolution of the screw, to be let fall upon +a piece of red-hot iron, which in that moment becomes a bolt, with +its projecting head or cap. Though they do not properly belong to +our subject, the great marine boilers in course of construction in +the adjoining department cannot be overlooked, even if only for +their size--vast cylinders of twelve feet diameter. Next comes the +erecting shop, where the various parts of the locomotive are fitted +together, and it is built up much as a ship from the keel. These +semi-completed engines have a singularly helpless look--out of +proportion, without limbs, and many mere skeletons. Close by is the +department where engines out of repair are made good. Some American +engineer started the idea of a railway thirty feet wide, an idea +which in this place is partially realized. The engine to be repaired +is run on to what may be described as a turn-table resting upon +wheels, and this turn-table is bodily rolled along, like a truck, +with the engine on it, to the place where tools and cranes and all +the necessary gear are ready for the work upon it. Now by a yard, +which seems one vast assemblage of wheels of all kinds--big wheels, +little wheels, wheels of all sizes, nothing but wheels; past great +mounds of iron, shapeless heaps of scrap, and then, perhaps, the +most interesting shop of all, though the least capable of +description, is entered. It is where the endless pieces of metal of +which the locomotive is composed are filed and planed and smoothed +into an accurate fit; an immense building, with shafting overhead +and shafting below in endless revolution, yielding an incessant hum +like the sound of armies of bees--a building which may be said to +have a score of aisles, up which one may walk with machinery upon +either side. Hundreds of lathes of every conceivable pattern are +planing the solid steel and the solid iron as if it were wood, +cutting off with each revolution a more or less thick slice of the +hard metal, which curls up like a shaving of deal. So delicate is +the touch of some of these tools, so good the metal they are +employed to cut, that shavings are taken off three or more feet +long, curled up like a spiral spring, and which may be wound round +the hand like string. The interiors of the cylinders, the bearings, +those portions of the engines which slide one upon the other, and +require the most accurate fit, are here adjusted by unerring +machinery, which turns out the work with an ease and exactness which +the hand of man, delicate and wonderful organ as it is, cannot +reach. From the smallest fitting up to the great engine cranks, the +lathes smooth them all--reduce them to the precise size which they +were intended to be by the draughtsman. These cranks and larger +pieces of metal are conveyed to their lathes and placed in position +by a steam crane, which glides along upon a single rail at the will +of the driver, who rides on it, and which handles the massive metal +almost with the same facility that an elephant would move a log of +wood with his trunk. Most of us have an inherent idea that iron is +exceedingly hard, but the ease with which it is cut and smoothed by +these machines goes far to remove that impression. + +The carriage department does not offer so much that will strike the +eye, yet it is of the highest importance. To the uninitiated it is +difficult to trace the connection between the various stages of the +carriage, as it is progressively built up, and finally painted and +gilded and fitted with cushions. Generally, the impression left from +an inspection is that the frames of the carriages are made in a way +calculated to secure great strength, the material being solid oak. +The brake-vans especially are made strong. The carriages made here +are for the narrow gauge, and are immensely superior in every way to +the old broad-gauge carriage, being much more roomy, although not so +wide. Over the department there lingers an odour of wood. It is +common to speak of the scented woods of the East and the South, but +even our English woods are not devoid of pleasant odour under the +carpenter's hands. Hidden away amongst the piles of wood there is +here a triumph of human ingenuity. It is an endless saw which +revolves around two wheels, much in the same way as a band revolves +around two drums. The wheels are perhaps three feet in diameter, and +two inches in thickness at the circumference. They are placed--one +as low as the workman's feet, another rather above his head--six or +seven feet apart. Round the wheels there stretches an endless narrow +band of blue steel, just as a ribbon might. This band of steel is +very thin, and almost half an inch in width. Its edge towards the +workman is serrated with sharp deep teeth. The wheels revolve by +steam rapidly, and carry with them the saw, so that, instead of the +old up and down motion, the teeth are continually running one way. +The band of steel is so extremely flexible that it sustains the +state of perpetual curve. There are stories in ancient chronicles of +the wonderful swords of famous warriors made of such good steel that +the blade could be bent till the point touched the hilt, and even +till the blade was tied in a knot. These stories do not seem like +fables before this endless saw, which does not bend once or twice, +but is incessantly curved, and incessantly in the act of curving. A +more beautiful machine cannot be imagined. Its chief use is to cut +out the designs for cornices, and similar ornamental work in thin +wood; but it is sufficiently strong to cut through a two-inch plank +like paper. Every possible support that can be afforded by runners +is given to the saw; still, with every aid, it is astonishing to see +metal, which we have been taught to believe rigid, flexible as +indiarubber. Adjoining are frame saws, working up and down by +steam, and cutting half a dozen or more boards at the same time. It +was in this department that the Queen's carriage was built at a +great expenditure of skill and money--a carriage which is considered +one of the masterpieces of this particular craft. + +There rises up in the mind, after the contemplation of this vast +workshop, with its endless examples of human ingenuity, a conviction +that safety in railway travelling is not only possible, but +probable, and even now on the way to us. No one can behold the +degree of excellence to which the art of manufacturing material has +been brought, no one can inspect the processes by which the wheel, +for instance, is finally welded into one compact mass, without a +firm belief that, where so much has been done, in a little time +still more will be done. That safer plans, that better designs, that +closer compacted forms will arise seems as certain and assured a +fact as that those forms now in use arose out of the rude beginnings +of the past; for this great factory, both in its machine-tools and +in its products, the wheels and rails and locomotives, is a standing +proof of the development which goes on in the mind of man when +brought constantly to bear upon one subject. As with the development +of species, so it is with that of machinery: rude and more general +forms first, finer and more specialized forms afterwards. There is +every reason to hope, for this factory is a proof of the advance +that has been made. It would seem that the capability of metal is +practically infinite. + +But what an enormous amount of labour, what skill, and what +complicated machinery must be first employed before what is in +itself a very small result can be arrived at! In order that an +individual may travel from London to Oxford, see what innumerable +conditions have to be fulfilled. Three thousand men have to work +night and day that we may merely seat ourselves and remain passive +till our destination is reached. + +This small nation of workers, this army of the hammer, lathe, and +drill, affords matter for deep meditation in its sociological +aspect. Though so numerous that no one of them can be personally +acquainted with more than a fractional part, yet there is a strong +_esprit de corps_, a spirit that ascends to the highest among them; +for it is well known that the chief manager has a genuine feeling of +almost fatherly affection for these his men, and will on no account +let them suffer, and will, if possible, obtain for them every +advantage. The influence he thereby acquires among them is +principally used for moral and religious ends. Under these auspices +have arisen the great chapels and places of worship of which the +town is full. Of the men themselves, the majority are intelligent, +contrasting strongly with the agricultural poor around them, and not +a few are well educated and thoughtful. This gleaning of +intellectual men are full of social life, or, rather, of an interest +in the problems of social existence. They eagerly discuss the claims +of religion _versus_ the allegations of secularism; they are shrewd +to detect the weak points of an argument; they lean, in fact, +towards an eclecticism: they select the most rational part of every +theory. They are full of information on every subject--information +obtained not only from newspapers, books, conversation, and +lectures, but from travel, for most have at least been over the +greater part of England. They are probably higher in their +intellectual life than a large proportion of the so-called middle +classes. One is, indeed, tempted to declare, after considering the +energy with which they enter on all questions, that this class of +educated mechanics forms in reality the protoplasm, or living +matter, out of which modern society is evolved. The great and +well-supplied reading-room of the Mechanics' Institute is always +full of readers; the library, now an extensive one, is constantly in +use. Where one book is read in agricultural districts, fifty are +read in the vicinity of the factory. Social questions of marriage, +of religion, of politics, sanitary science, are for ever on the +simmer among these men. It would almost seem as if the hammer, the +lathe, and the drill would one day bring forth a creed of its own. A +characteristic of all classes of these workmen is their demand for +meat, of which great quantities are consumed. Nor do they stay at +meat alone, but revel in fish and other luxuries at times, though +the champagne of the miner is not known here. Notwithstanding the +number of public-houses, it is a remarkable fact that there is very +little drunkenness in proportion to the population, few crimes of +violence, and, what is more singular still, and has been often +remarked, very little immorality. Where there are some hundreds, +perhaps thousands, of young uneducated girls, without work to occupy +their time, there must of course exist a certain amount of lax +conduct; but never, or extremely rarely, does a girl apply to the +magistrates for an affiliation order, while from agricultural +parishes such applications are common. The number of absolutely +immoral women openly practising infamy is also remarkably small. +There was a time when the workmen at this factory enjoyed an +unpleasant notoriety for mischief and drunkenness, but that time has +passed away, a most marked improvement having taken place in the +last few years. + +There appears, however, to be very little prudence amongst them. The +man who receives some extra money for extra work simply spends it on +unusual luxuries in food or drink; or, if it be summer, takes his +wife and children a drive in a hired conveyance. To this latter +there can be no objection; but still, the fact remains prominent +that men in the receipt of good wages do not save. They do not put +by money; this is, of course, speaking of the majority. It would +almost seem to be a characteristic of human nature that those who +receive wages for work done, so much per week or fortnight, do not +contract saving habits. The small struggling tradesman, whose income +is very little more than that of the mechanic, often makes great +exertions and practises much economy to put by a sum to assist him +in difficulty or to extend his business. It may be that the very +certainty of the wages acts as a deterrent--inasmuch as the mechanic +feels safe of his weekly money, while the shopkeeper runs much risk. +It is doubtful whether mechanics with good wages save more than +agricultural labourers, except in indirect ways--ways which are +thrust upon them. First of all, there is the yard club, to which all +are compelled to pay by their employers, the object being to provide +medical assistance in case of sickness. This is in some sense a +saving. Then there are the building societies, which offer +opportunities of possessing a house, and the mechanic who becomes a +member has to pay for it by instalments. This also may be called an +indirect saving, since the effect is the same. But of direct +saving--putting money in a bank, or investing it--there is scarcely +any. The quarter of a million annually paid in wages mostly finds +its way into the pockets of the various trades-people, and at the +end of the year the mechanic is none the better off. This is a grave +defect in his character. Much of it results from a generous, liberal +disposition: a readiness to treat a friend with a drink, to drive +the family out into the country, to treat the daughter with a new +dress. The mechanic does not set a value upon money in itself. + +The effect of the existence of this factory upon the whole +surrounding district has been marked. A large proportion of the +lower class of mechanics, especially the factory labourers, are +drawn from the agricultural poor of the adjacent villages. These +work all day at the factory, and return at night. They daily walk +great distances to secure this employment: three miles to and three +miles back is common, four miles not uncommon, and some have been +known to walk six or twelve miles per day. These carry back with +them into the villages the knowledge they insensibly acquire from +their better-informed comrades, and exhibit an independent spirit. +For a radius of six miles round the poorer class are better +informed, quicker in perception, more ready with an answer to a +question, than those who dwell farther back out of the track of +modern life. Wages had materially risen long before the movement +among the agricultural labourers took place. + +Where there was lately nothing but furze and rabbits there is now a +busy human population. Why was it that for so many hundreds of years +the population of England remained nearly stationary? and why has it +so marvellously increased in this last forty years? The history of +this place seems to answer that interesting question. The increase +is due to the facilities of communication which now exist, and to +the numberless new employments in which that facility of +communication took rise, and which it in turn adds to and fosters. + + + + +UNEQUAL AGRICULTURE + + +In the way of sheer, downright force few effects of machinery are +more striking than a steam-ploughing engine dragging the shares +across a wide expanse of stiff clay. The huge engines used in our +ironclad vessels work with a graceful ease which deceives the eye; +the ponderous cranks revolve so smoothly, and shine so brightly with +oil and polish, that the mind is apt to underrate the work +performed. But these ploughing engines stand out solitary and apart +from other machinery, and their shape itself suggests crude force, +such force as may have existed in the mastodon or other unwieldy +monster of the prehistoric ages. The broad wheels sink into the +earth under the pressure; the steam hissing from the escape valves +is carried by the breeze through the hawthorn hedge, hiding the red +berries with a strange, unwonted cloud; the thick dark brown smoke, +rising from the funnel as the stoker casts its food of coal into the +fiery mouth of the beast, falls again and floats heavily over the +yellow stubble, smothering and driving away the partridges and +hares. There is a smell of oil, and cotton-waste, and gas, and +steam, and smoke, which overcomes the fresh, sweet odour of the +earth and green things after a shower. Stray lumps of coal crush the +delicate pimpernel and creeping convolvulus. A shrill, short scream +rushes forth and echoes back from an adjacent rick--puff! the +fly-wheel revolves, and the drum underneath tightens its hold upon +the wire rope. Across yonder a curious, shapeless thing, with a man +riding upon it, comes jerking forward, tearing its way through +stubble and clay, dragging its iron teeth with sheer strength deep +through the solid earth. The thick wire rope stretches and strains +as if it would snap and curl up like a tortured snake; the engine +pants loudly and quick; the plough now glides forward, now pauses, +and, as it were, eats its way through a tougher place, then glides +again, and presently there is a pause, and behold the long furrow +with the upturned subsoil is completed. A brief pause, and back it +travels again, this time drawn from the other side, where a twin +monster puffs and pants and belches smoke, while the one that has +done its work uncoils its metal sinews. When the furrows run up and +down a slope, the savage force, the fierce, remorseless energy of +the engine pulling the plough upwards, gives an idea of power which +cannot but impress the mind. + +This is what is going on upon one side of the hedge. These engines +cost as much as the fee-simple of a small farm; they consume +expensive coal, and water that on the hills has to be brought long +distances; they require skilled workmen to attend to them, and they +do the work with a thoroughness which leaves little to be desired. +Each puff and pant echoing from the ricks, each shrill whistle +rolling along from hill to hill, proclaims as loudly as iron and +steel can shout, 'Progress! Onwards!' Now step through this gap in +the hedge and see what is going on in the next field. + +It is a smaller ground, of irregular shape and uneven surface. +Steam-ploughs mean _plains_ rather than fields--broad, square +expanses of land without awkward corners--and as level as possible, +with mounds that may have been tumuli worked down, rising places +smoothed away, old ditch-like drains filled up, and fairly good +roads. This field may be triangular or some indescribable figure, +with narrow corners where the high hedges come close together, with +deep furrows to carry away the water, rising here and sinking there +into curious hollows, entered by a narrow gateway leading from a +muddy lane where the ruts are a foot deep. The plough is at work +here also, such a plough as was used when the Corn Laws were in +existence, chiefly made of wood--yes, actually wood, in this age of +iron--bound and strengthened with metal, but principally made from +the tree--the tree which furnishes the African savage at this day +with the crooked branch with which to scratch the earth, which +furnished the ancient agriculturists of the Nile Valley with their +primitive implements. It is drawn by dull, patient oxen, plodding +onwards now just as they were depicted upon the tombs and temples, +the graves and worshipping places, of races who had their being +three thousand years ago. Think of the suns that have shone since +then; of the summers and the bronzed grain waving in the wind, of +the human teeth that have ground that grain, and are now hidden in +the abyss of earth; yet still the oxen plod on, like slow Time +itself, here this day in our land of steam and telegraph. Are not +these striking pictures, remarkable contrasts? On the one side +steam, on the other the oxen of the Egyptians, only a few +thorn-bushes between dividing the nineteenth century B.C. from the +nineteenth century A.D. After these oxen follows an aged man, slow +like themselves, sowing the seed. A basket is at his side, from +which at every stride, regular as machinery, he takes a handful of +that corn round which so many mysteries have gathered from the time +of Ceres to the hallowed words of the great Teacher, taking His +parable from the sower. He throws it with a peculiar _steady_ jerk, +so to say, and the grains, impelled with the exact force and skill, +which can only be attained by long practice, scatter in an even +shower. Listen! On the other side of the hedge the rattle of the +complicated drill resounds as it drops the seed in regular +rows--and, perhaps, manures it at the same time--so that the plants +can be easily thinned out, or the weeds removed, after the magical +influence of the despised clods has brought on the miracle of +vegetation. + +These are not extreme and isolated instances; no one will need to +walk far afield to witness similar contrasts. There is a medium +between the two--a third class--an intermediate agriculture. The +pride of this farm is in its horses, its teams of magnificent +animals, sleek and glossy of skin, which the carters spend hours in +feeding lest they should lose their appetites--more hours than ever +they spend in feeding their own children. These noble creatures, +whose walk is power and whose step is strength, work a few hours +daily, stopping early in the afternoon, taking also an ample margin +for lunch. They pull the plough also like the oxen, but it is a +modern implement, of iron, light, and with all the latest +improvements. It is typical of the system itself--half and +half--neither the old oxen nor the new steam, but midway, a +compromise. The fields are small and irregular in shape, but the +hedges are cut, and the mounds partially grubbed and reduced to the +thinnest of banks, the trees thrown, and some draining done. Some +improvements have been adopted, others have been omitted. + +Upon those broad acres where the steam-plough was at work, what tons +of artificial manure, superphosphate, and guano, liquid and solid, +have been sown by the progressive tenant! Lavishly and yet +judiciously, not once only, but many times, have the fertilizing +elements been restored to the soil, and more than restored--added to +it, till the earth itself has grown richer and stronger. The +scarifier and the deep plough have turned up the subsoil and exposed +the hard, stiff under-clods to the crumbling action of the air and +the mysterious influence of light. Never before since Nature +deposited those earthy atoms there in the slow process of some +geological change has the sunshine fallen on them, or their latent +power been called forth. Well-made and judiciously laid drains carry +away the flow of water from the winter rains and floods--no longer +does there remain a species of reservoir at a certain depth, +chilling the tender roots of the plants as they strike downwards, +lowering the entire temperature of the field. Mounds have been +levelled, good roads laid down, nothing left undone that can +facilitate operations or aid in the production of strong, succulent +vegetation. Large flocks of well-fed sheep, folded on the +corn-lands, assist the artificial manure, and perhaps even surpass +it. When at last the plant comes to maturity and turns colour under +the scorching sun, behold a widespread ocean of wheat, an English +gold-field, a veritable Yellow Sea, bowing in waves before the +southern breeze--a sight full of peaceful poetry. The stalk is tall +and strong, good in colour, fit for all purposes. The ear is full, +large; the increase is truly a hundredfold. Or it may be roots. By +these means the progressive agriculturist has produced a crop of +swedes or mangolds which in individual size and collective weight +per acre would seem to an old-fashioned farmer perfectly fabulous. +Now, here are many great benefits. First, the tenant himself reaps +his reward, and justly adds to his private store. Next, the property +of the landlord is improved, and increases in value. The labourer +gets better house accommodation, gardens, and higher wages. The +country at large is supplied with finer qualities and greater +quantities of food, and those who are engaged in trade and +manufactures, and even in commerce, feel an increased vitality in +their various occupations. + +On the other side of the hedge, where the oxen were at plough, the +earth is forced to be self-supporting--to restore to itself how it +can the elements carried away in wheat and straw and root. Except a +few ill-fed sheep, except some small quantities of manure from the +cattle-yards, no human aid, so to say, reaches the much-abused soil. +A crop of green mustard is sometimes ploughed in to decompose and +fertilize, but as it had to be grown first the advantage is +doubtful. The one object is to spend as little as possible upon the +soil, and to get as much out of it as may be. Granted that in +numbers of cases no trickery be practised, that the old rotation of +crops is honestly followed, and no evil meant, yet even then, in +course of time, a soil just scratched on the surface, never fairly +manured, and always in use, must of necessity deteriorate. Then, +when such an effect is too patent to be any longer overlooked, when +the decline of the produce begins to alarm him, the farmer, perhaps, +buys a few hundredweight of artificial manure, and frugally scatters +it abroad. This causes 'a flash in the pan'; it acts as a momentary +stimulus; it is like endeavouring to repair a worn-out constitution +with doses of strong cordial; there springs up a vigorous vegetation +one year, and the next the earth is more exhausted than before. +Soils cannot be made highly fertile all at once even by +superphosphates; it is the inability to discern this fact which +leads many to still argue in the face of experience that artificial +manures are of no avail. The slow oxen, the lumbering wooden plough, +the equally lumbering heavy waggon, the primitive bush-harrow, made +simply of a bush cut down and dragged at a horse's tail--these are +symbols of a standstill policy utterly at variance with the times. +Then this man loudly complains that things are not as they used to +be--that wheat is so low in price it will not yield any profit, that +labour is so high and everything so dear; and, truly, it is easy to +conceive that the present age, with its competition and eagerness to +advance, must really press very seriously upon him. + +Most persons have been interested enough, however little connected +with agriculture, to at least once in their lives walk round an +agricultural show, and to express their astonishment at the size and +rotundity of the cattle exhibited. How easy, judging from such a +passing view of the finest products of the country centred in one +spot, to go away with the idea that under every hawthorn hedge a +prize bullock of enormous girth is peacefully grazing! Should the +same person ever go across country, through gaps and over brooks, +taking an Asmodeus-like glance into every field, how marvellously +would he find that he had been deceived! He might travel miles, and +fly over scores of fields, and find no such animals, nor anything +approaching to them. By making inquiries he would perhaps discover +in most districts one spot where something of the kind could be +seen--an oasis in the midst of a desert. On the farm he would see a +long range of handsome outhouses, tiled or slated, with comfortable +stalls and every means of removing litter and manure, tanks for +liquid manure, skilled attendants busy in feeding, in preparing +food, storehouses full of cake. A steam-engine in one of the +sheds--perhaps a portable engine, used also for threshing--drives +the machinery which slices up or pulps roots, cuts up chaff, pumps +up water, and performs a score of other useful functions. The yards +are dry, well paved, and clean; everything smells clean; there are +no foul heaps of decaying matter breeding loathsome things and +fungi; yet nothing is wasted, not even the rain that falls upon the +slates and drops from the eaves. The stock within are worthy to +compare with those magnificent beasts seen at the show. It is from +these places that the prize animals are drawn; it is here that the +beef which makes England famous is fattened; it is from here that +splendid creatures are sent abroad to America or the Colonies, to +improve the breed in those distant countries. Now step forth again +over the hedge, down yonder in the meadows. + +This is a cow-pen, one of the old-fashioned style; in the dairy and +pasture counties you may find them by hundreds still. It is pitched +by the side of a tall hedge, or in an angle of two hedges, which +themselves form two walls of the enclosure. The third is the +cow-house and shedding itself; the fourth is made of willow rods. +These rods are placed upright, confined between horizontal poles, +and when new this simple contrivance is not wholly to be despised; +but when the rods decay, as they do quickly, then gaps are formed, +through which the rain and sleet and bitter wind penetrate with +ease. Inside this willow paling is a lower hedge, so to say, two +feet distant from the other, made of willow work twisted--like a +continuous hurdle. Into this rude manger, when the yard is full of +cattle, the fodder is thrown. Here and there about the yard, also, +stand cumbrous cribs for fodder, at which two cows can feed at once. +In one corner there is a small pond, muddy, stagnant, covered with +duckweed, perhaps reached by a steep, 'pitched' descent, slippery, +and difficult for the cattle to get down. They foul the very water +they drink. The cow-house, as it is called, is really merely adapted +for one or two cows at a time, at the period of calving--dark, +narrow, awkward. The skilling, or open house where the cows lie and +chew the cud in winter, is built of boards or slabs at the back, and +in front supported upon oaken posts standing on stones. The roof is +of thatch, green with moss; in wet weather the water drips steadily +from the eaves, making one long gutter. In the eaves the wrens make +their nests in the spring, and roost there in winter. The floor here +is hard, certainly, and dry; the yard itself is a sea of muck. Never +properly stoned or pitched, and without a drain, the loose stones +cannot keep the mud down, and it works up under the hoofs of the +cattle in a filthy mass. Over this there is litter and manure a foot +deep; or, if the fogger does clean up the manure, he leaves it in +great heaps scattered about, and on the huge dunghill just outside +the yard he will show you a fine crop of mushrooms cunningly hidden +under a light layer of litter. It is his boast that the cow-pen was +built in the three sevens; on one ancient beam, worm-eaten and +cracked, there may perhaps be seen the inscription '1777' cut deep +into the wood. Over all, at the back of the cow-pen, stands a row of +tall elm-trees, dripping in wet weather upon the thatch, in the +autumn showering their yellow leaves into the hay, in a gale +dropping dead branches into the yard. The tenant seems to think even +this shelter effeminate, and speaks regretfully of the old hardy +breed which stood all weathers, and wanted no more cover than was +afforded by a hawthorn bush. From here a few calves find their way +to the butcher, and towards Christmas one or two moderately fat +beasts. + +Near by lives a dairy farmer, who, without going to the length of +the famous stock-breeder whose stalls are the pride of the district, +yet fills his meadows with a handsome herd of productive shorthorns, +giving splendid results in butter, milk, and cheese, and who sends +to the market a succession of animals which, if not equal to the +gigantic prize beasts, are nevertheless valuable to the consumer. +This tenant does good work, both for himself and for the labourers, +the landlord, and the country. His meadows are a sight in themselves +to the experienced eye--well drained, great double mounds thinned +out, but the supply of wood not quite destroyed--not a rush, a +'bullpoll,' a thistle, or a 'rattle,' those yellow pests of mowing +grass, to be seen. They have been weeded out as carefully as the +arable farmer weeds his plants. Where broad deep furrows used to +breed those aquatic grasses which the cattle left, drains have been +put in and soil thrown over till the level was brought up to the +rest of the field. The manure carts have evidently been at work +here, perhaps the liquid manure tank also, and some artificial aid +in places where required, both of seed and manure. The number of +stock kept is the fullest tale the land will bear, and he does not +hesitate to help the hay with cake in the fattening stalls. For +there are stalls, not so elaborately furnished as those of the +famous stock-breeder, but comfortable, clean, and healthy. Nothing +is wasted here either. So far as practicable the fields have been +enlarged by throwing two or three smaller enclosures together. He +does not require so much machinery as the great arable farmer, but +here are mowing machines, haymaking machines, horse-rakes, chain +harrows, chaff-cutters, light carts instead of heavy waggons--every +labour-saving appliance. Without any noise or puff this man is doing +good work, and silently reaping his reward. Glance for a moment at +an adjacent field: it is an old 'leaze' or ground not mown, but used +for grazing. It has the appearance of a desert, a wilderness. The +high, thick hedges encroach upon the land; the ditches are quite +arched over by the brambles and briars which trail out far into the +grass. Broad deep furrows are full of tough, grey aquatic grass, +'bullpolls,' and short brown rushes; in winter they are so many +small brooks. Tall bennets from last year and thistle abound--half +the growth is useless for cattle; in autumn the air here is white +with the clouds of thistle-down. It is a tolerably large field, but +the meadows held by the same tenant are small, with double mounds +and trees, rows of spreading oaks and tall elms; these meadows run +up into the strangest nooks and corners. Sometimes, where they +follow the course of a brook which winds and turns, actually an area +equal to about half the available field is occupied by the hedges. +Into this brook the liquid sewage from the cow-pens filtrates, or, +worse still, accumulates in a hollow, making a pond, disgusting to +look at, but which liquid, if properly applied, is worth almost its +weight in gold. The very gateways of the fields in winter are a +Slough of Despond, where the wheels sink in up to the axles, and in +summer great ruts jolt the loads almost off the waggons. + +Where the steam-plough is kept, where first-class stock are bred, +there the labourer is well housed, and his complaints are few and +faint. There cottages with decent and even really capital +accommodation for the families spring up, and are provided with +extensive gardens. It is not easy, in the absence of statistics, to +compare the difference in the amount of money put in circulation by +these contrasted farms, but it must be something extraordinary. +First comes the capital expenditure upon machinery--ploughs, +engines, drills, what not--then the annual expenditure upon labour, +which, despite the employment of machinery, is as great or greater +upon a progressive farm as upon one conducted on stagnant +principle. Add to this the cost of artificial manure, of cake and +feeding-stuffs, etc., and the total will be something very heavy. +Now, all this expenditure, this circulation of coin, means not only +gain to the individual, but gain to the country at large. Whenever +in a town a great manufactory is opened and gives employment to +several hundred hands, at the same time increasing the production +of a valuable material, the profit--the _outside_ profit, so to +say--is as great to others as to the proprietors. But these +half-cultivated lands, these tons upon tons of wasted manure, these +broad hedges and weed-grown fields, represent upon the other hand +an equal loss. The labouring classes in the rural districts are +eager for more work. They may popularly be supposed to look with +suspicion upon change, but such an idea is a mistaken one. They +anxiously wait the approach of such works as new railways or +extension of old ones in the hope of additional employment. Work is +their gold-mine, and the best mine of all. The capitalist, +therefore, who sets himself to improve his holding is the very man +they most desire to see. What scope is there for work upon a +stagnant dairy farm of one hundred and fifty acres? A couple of +foggers and milkers, a hedger and ditcher, two or three women at +times, and there is the end. And such work!--mere animal labour, +leading to so little result. The effect of constant, of lifelong +application in such labour cannot but be deteriorating to the mind. +The master himself must feel the dull routine. The steam-plough +teaches the labourer who works near it something; the sight must +react upon him, utterly opposed as it is to all the traditions of +the past. The enterprise of the master must convey some small +spirit of energy into the mind of the man. Where the cottages are +built of wattle and daub, low and thatched--mere sheds, in +fact--where the gardens are small, and the allotments, if any, far +distant, and where the men wear a sullen, apathetic look, be sure +the agriculture of the district is at a low ebb. + +Are not these few pictures sufficient to show beyond a cavil that +the agriculture of this country exhibits the strangest inequalities? +Anyone who chooses can verify the facts stated, and may perhaps +discover more curious anomalies still. The spirit of science is +undoubtedly abroad in the homes of the English farmers, and immense +are the strides that have been taken; but still greater is the work +that remains to be done. Suppose anyone had a garden, and carefully +manured, and dug over and over again, and raked, and broke up all +the larger clods, and well watered one particular section of it, +leaving all the rest to follow the dictates of wild nature, could he +possibly expect the same amount of produce from those portions +which, practically speaking, took care of themselves? Here are men +of intellect and energy employing every possible means to develop +the latent powers of the soil, and producing extraordinary results +in grain and meat. Here also are others who, in so far as +circumstances permit, follow in their footsteps. But there remains a +large area in the great garden of England which, practically +speaking, takes care of itself. The grass grows, the seed sprouts +and germinates, very much how they may, with little or no aid from +man. It does not require much penetration to arrive at the obvious +conclusion that the yield does not nearly approach the possible +production. Neither in meat nor corn is the tale equal to what it +well might be. All due allowance must be made for barren soils of +sand or chalk with thinnest layers of earth; yet then there is an +enormous area, where the soil is good and fertile, not properly +productive. It would be extremely unfair to cast the blame wholly +upon the tenants. They have achieved wonders in the past twenty +years; they have made gigantic efforts and bestirred themselves +right manfully. But a man may wander over his farm and note with +discontented eye the many things he would like to do--the drains he +would like to lay down, the manure he would like to spread abroad, +the new stalls he would gladly build, the machine he so much +wants--and then, shrugging his shoulders, reflect that he has not +got the capital to do it with. Almost to a man they are sincerely +desirous of progress; those who cannot follow in great things do in +little. Science and invention have done almost all that they can be +expected to do; chemistry and research have supplied powerful +fertilizers. Machinery has been made to do work which at first sight +seems incapable of being carried on by wheels and cranks. Science +and invention may rest awhile: what is wanted is the universal +application of their improvements by the aid of more capital. We +want the great garden equally highly cultivated everywhere. + + + + +VILLAGE ORGANIZATION + + +The great centres of population have almost entirely occupied the +attention of our legislators of late years, and even those measures +which affect the rural districts, or which may be extended to affect +them at the will of the residents, have had their origin in the wish +to provide for large towns. The Education Act arose out of a natural +desire to place the means of learning within the reach of the dense +population of such centres as London, Birmingham, Manchester, and +others of that class; and although its operation extends to the +whole country, yet those who have had any experience of its method +of working in agricultural parishes will recognize at once that its +designers did not contemplate the conditions of rural life when they +were framing their Bill. What is reasonable enough when applied to +cities is often extremely inconvenient when applied to villages. It +would almost seem as if the framers of the Bill left out of sight +the circumstances which obtain in agricultural districts. It was +obviously drawn up with a view to cities and towns, where an +organization exists which can be called in to assist the new +institution. This indifference of the Bill to the conditions of +country life is one of the reasons why it is so reluctantly complied +with. The number of School Boards which have been called into +existence in the country is extremely small, and even where they do +exist they cannot be taken as representing a real outcome of opinion +on the part of the inhabitants. They owe their establishment to +certain causes which, in process of time, bring the parish under the +operation of the Act, with or without the will of the residents. +This is particularly the case in parishes where there is no large +landlord, no one to take the initiative, and no large farmers to +support the clergyman in his attempt to obtain, or maintain, an +independent school. The matter is distinct from political feelings. +It arises in a measure from the desultory village life, which +possesses no organization, no power of combination. Here is a large +and fairly populous parish without any great landowners, and, as a +natural consequence, also without any large farmers. The property of +the parish is in the hands of some score of persons; it may be split +up into almost infinitesimal holdings in the village itself. Now, +everyone knows the thoroughly independent character of an English +farmer. He will follow what he considers the natural lead of his +landlord, if he occupy a superior social position. He will follow +his landlord in a sturdy, independent way, but he will follow no one +else. Let there be no great landowner in the parish, and any +combination on the part of the agriculturists becomes impossible. +One man has one idea, another another, and each and all are +determined not to yield an inch. Most of them are decidedly against +the introduction of a School Board, and are quite ready to subscribe +towards an independent school; but, then, when it comes to the +administration of the school funds, there must be managers appointed +to carry the plan into execution, and these managers must confer +with the clergyman. Now here are endless elements of confusion and +disagreement. One man thinks he ought to be a manager, and does not +approve of the conduct of those who are in charge. Another dislikes +the tone of the clergyman. A third takes a personal dislike to the +schoolmaster who is employed. One little discord leads to further +complication; someone loses his temper, and personalities are +introduced; then it is all over with the subscription, and the +school ceases, simply because there are no funds. Finally, the +Imperial authorities step in, and finding education at a dead-lock, +a School Board is presently established, though in all probability +nine out of ten are against it, but hold their peace in the hope of +at last getting some kind of organization. So it will be found that +the few country School Boards which exist are in parishes where +there is no large landowner, or where the owner is a non-resident, +or the property in Chancery. In other words, they exist in places +where there is no natural chief to give expression to the feelings +of the parish. + +Agriculturists of all shades of political opinions are usually +averse to a School Board. An ill-defined feeling is very often the +strongest rule of conduct. Now there is an ill-defined but very +strong feeling that the introduction of a School Board means the +placing of the parish more or less under imperial rule, and +curtailing the freedom that has hitherto existed. This has been much +strengthened by the experience gained during the last few years of +the actual working of the Bill with respect to schools which are not +Board Schools, but which come under the Government inspection. Every +step of the proceedings shows only too plainly the utter unfitness +of the clauses of the Bill to rural conditions. One of the most +important clauses is that which insists upon a given amount of cubic +space for each individual child. This has often entailed the +greatest inconveniences, and very unnecessary expense. It was most +certainly desirable that overcrowding and the consequent evolution +of foul gases should be guarded against; and in great cities, where +the air is always more or less impure, and contaminated with the +effluvia from factories as well as from human breath, a large amount +of cubic feet of space might properly be insisted upon; but in +villages where the air is pure and free from the slightest +contamination, villages situated often on breezy hills, or at worst +in the midst of sweet meadow land, the hard-and-fast rule of so many +cubic feet is an intolerable burden upon the supporters of the +school. Still, that would not be so objectionable were it confined +to the actual number of attendants at the school; but it would +appear that the Government grant is not applicable to schools, +unless they are large enough to allow to all children in the parish +a certain given cubic space. + +Now, as a matter of fact, nothing like all the children of the +parish attend the school. In rural districts, especially, where the +distance of cottages from the school is often very great, there will +always be a heavy percentage of absentees. There will also be a +percentage who attend schools in connection with a Dissenting +establishment, and even a certain number who attend private schools, +to say nothing of the numbers who never attend at all. It is, then, +extremely hard that the subscribers to a school should be compelled +to erect a building sufficiently large to allow of the given +quantity of space to each and every child in the parish. Matters +like these have convinced the residents in rural districts that the +Act was framed without any consideration of their peculiar position, +and they naturally feel repugnant to its introduction amongst them, +and decline to make it in any way a foundation of village +organization. The Act regulating the age at which children may be +employed in agriculture was also an extension of an original Act, +passed to protect the interest of children in cities and +manufacturing districts. There is no objection to the Act except +that it is a dead-letter. How many prosecutions have taken place +under it? No one ever hears of anything of the kind, and probably no +one ever will. The fact is, that since the universal use of +machinery there is not so ready an employment for boys and children +of that tender age as formerly. They are not by any means so +greatly in demand, neither do they pay so well, on account of the +much larger wages they now ask for. In addition, the farmers are +strongly in favour of the education of their labourers' children, +and place every facility in the way of those attending school. In +many parishes a very strong moral pressure is voluntarily put upon +the labouring poor to induce them to send their children, and the +labouring poor themselves have awakened in a measure to the +advantages of education. The Act, therefore, is practically a +dead-letter, and bears no influence upon village life. These two +Acts, and the alteration of the law relating to sanitary matters--by +which the Guardians of the Poor become the rural sanitary +authority--are the only legislation of modern days that goes direct +to the heart of rural districts. The rural sanitary authority +possesses great powers, but rarely exercises them. The constitution +of that body forbids an active supervision. It is made up of one or +two gentlemen from each parish, who are generally elected to that +office without any contest, and simply because their brother farmers +feel confidence in their judgment. The principal objects to which +their attention is directed while at the board is to see that no +unnecessary expenditure is permitted, so as to keep the rates at the +lowest possible figure, and to state all they know of the conduct +and position of the poor of their own parishes who apply for relief, +in which latter matter they afford the most valuable assistance, +many of the applicants having been known to them for a score of +years or more. But if there is one thing a farmer dislikes more than +another it is meddling and interfering with other persons' business. +He would sooner put up with any amount of inconvenience, and even +serious annoyance, than take an active step to remove the cause of +his grumbling, if that step involves the operation of the law +against his neighbours. The guardian who rides to the board meeting +week after week may be perfectly well aware that the village which +he represents is suffering under a common nuisance: that there is a +pond in the middle of the place which emits an offensive odour; that +there are three or four cottages in a dilapidated condition and +unfit for human habitation, or crowded to excess with dirty tenants; +or that the sewage of the place flows in an open ditch into the +brook which supplies the inhabitants with water. He has not got +power to deal with these matters personally, but he can, if he +chooses, bring them before the notice of the board, which can +instruct its inspector (probably also its relieving officer) to take +action at law against the nuisance. But it is not to be expected +that a single person will do anything of the kind. + +There is in all properly-balanced minds an instinctive dislike to +the office of public prosecutor, and nothing more unpopular could be +imagined. The agriculturist who holds the office of guardian does +not feel it his duty to act as common spy and informer, and he may +certainly be pardoned if he neglects to act contrary to his feelings +as a gentleman. Therefore he rides by the stinking pond, the +overcrowded cottages, the polluted water, week by week, and says +nothing whatever. It is easy to remark that the board has its +inspector, who is paid to report upon these matters; but the +inspector has, in the first place, to traverse an enormous extent of +country, and has no opportunity of becoming acquainted with +nuisances which are not unbearably offensive. He has usually other +duties to perform which occupy the greater part of his time, and he +is certainly not overpaid for the work he does and the distance he +travels. He also has his natural feelings upon the subject of making +himself disagreeable, and he shrinks from interference, unless +instructed by his superiors. His position is not sufficiently +independent to render him, in all cases, a free agent; so it happens +that the rural sanitary authority is practically a nullity. It is +too cumbrous, it meets at too great a distance, and its powers, +after all, even when at last set in motion, are too limited to have +any appreciable effect in ameliorating the condition of village +life. But even if this nominal body were actively engaged in +prosecuting offenders, the desired result would be far from being +attained. One of the most serious matters is the supply of water for +public use in villages. At the present moment there exists no +authority which can cause a parish to be supplied with good drinking +water. While the great centres of population have received the most +minute attention from the Legislature, the large population which +resides in villages has been left to its own devices, with the +exception of the three measures, the first of which is unsuitable +and strenuously opposed, the second a dead-letter, and the third +cumbrous and practically inoperative. + +Let us now examine the authorities which act under ancient +enactments, or by reason of long standing, immemorial custom. The +first of these may be taken to be the Vestry. The powers of the +vestries appear to have formerly been somewhat extended, but in +these latter times the influence they exercise has been very much +curtailed. At the time when each parish relieved its own poor, the +Vestry was practically the governing authority of the village, and +possessed almost unlimited power, so far as the poor were concerned. +That power was derived from its control over the supply of bread to +the destitute. As the greater part of the working population +received relief, it followed that the Vestry, composed of the +agriculturists and landowners, was practically autocratic. Still +longer ago, when the laws of the land contained certain enactments +as to the attendance of persons at church, the Vestry had still +greater powers. But at present, in most parishes, the Vestry is a +nominal assembly, and frequently there is a difficulty in getting +sufficient numbers of people together to constitute a legal +authority. The poor rate is no longer made at the Vestry; the church +rate is a thing of the past; and what is then left? There is the +appointment of overseers, churchwardens, and similar formal matters; +but the power has departed. In all probability they will never be +resuscitated, because in all authorities of the kind there is a +suspicion of Church influence; and there seems to be almost as much +dislike to any shadow of that as against the political and temporal +claims of the Roman Pontiff. The Vestry can never again become a +popular vehicle of administration. The second is the Board of +Guardians--though this is not properly a village or local authority +at all, but merely a representative firm for the supervision of +certain funds in which a number of villages are partners, and which +can only be applied to a few stated purposes, under strictly limited +conditions. There is no popular feeling involved in the expenditure +of this fund, except that of economy, and almost any ratepayer may +be trusted to vote for this; so that the office of guardian is a +most routine one, and offers no opportunity of reform. Often one +gentleman will represent a village for twenty years, being simply +nominated, or even not as much as nominated, from year to year. If +at last he grows tired of the monotony, and mentions it to his +friends, they nominate another gentleman, always chosen for his +good-fellowship and known dislike to change or interference--a man, +in fact, without any violent opinions. He is nominated, and takes +his seat. There is no emulation, no excitement. The Board of +Guardians would assume more of the character of a local authority if +it possessed greater freedom of action. But its course is so rigidly +bound down by minute regulations and precedents that it really has +no volition of its own, and can only deal with circumstances as +they arise, according to a code laid down at a distance. It is not +permitted to discriminate; it can neither relax nor repress; it is +absolutely inelastic. In consequence it does not approach to the +idea of a real local power, but rather resembles an assembly of +unpaid clerks doling out infinitesimal sums of money to an endless +stream of creditors, according to written instructions left by the +absent head of the firm. Next there is the Highway Board; but this +also possesses but limited authority, and deals only with roads. It +has merely to see that the roads are kept in good repair, and that +no encroachments are made upon them. Like the Board of Guardians, it +is a most useful body; but its influence upon village life is +indirect and indeterminate. There only remains the Court Leet. This, +the most ancient and absolute of all, nevertheless approaches in +principle nearest to the ideal of a local village authority. It is +supposed to be composed of the lord of the manor, and of his court +or jury of tenants, and its object is to see that the rights of the +manor are maintained. The Court Leet was formerly a very important +assembly, but in our time its offices are minute, and only apply to +small interests. It is held at long intervals of time--as long, in +some instances, as seven years--and is summoned by the steward of +the lord of the manor, and commonly held at an inn, refreshments +being supplied by the lord. Here come all the poor persons who +occupy cottages or garden grounds on quit-rent, and pay their rent, +which may amount in seven years to as much as fourteen shillings. A +member of the court will, perhaps, draw the attention of the court +to the fact that a certain ditch or watercourse has become choked +up, and requires clearing out or diverting; and if this ditch be +upon the manor, the court can order it to be attended to. On the +manor they have also jurisdiction over timber, paths, and similar +matters, and can order that a cottage which is dilapidated shall be +repaired or removed. In point of fact, however, the Court Leet is +merely a jovial assembly of the tenants upon the estate of the +landowner, who drink so many bottles of sherry at his expense, and +set to right a few minute grievances. + +In many places--the vast majority, indeed--there is no longer any +Court Leet held, because the manorial rights have become faint and +indistinct with the passage of time; the manor has been sold, split +up into two or three estates, the entail cut off; or the manor as a +manor has totally disappeared under the changes of ownership, and +the various deeds and liabilities which have arisen. But this +merely general gathering of the farmers of the village--where Court +Leets are still held, all farmers are invited, irrespective of +their supposed allegiance to the lord of the manor or not--this +pleasant dinner and sherry party, which meets to go through +obsolete customs, and exercise minute and barely legal rights, +contains nevertheless many of the elements of a desirable local +authority. It is composed of gentlemen of all shades of opinion; no +politics are introduced. It meets in the village itself, and under +the direct sanction of the landowner. Its powers are confined to +strictly local matters, and its members are thoroughly acquainted +with those matters. The affairs of the village are discussed +without acrimony, and a certain amount of understanding arrived at. +It regulates disputes and grievances arising between the +inhabitants of cottage property, and can see that that property is +habitable. It acts more by custom, habit, more by acquiescence of +the parties than by any imperious, hard-and-fast law laid down at a +distance from the scene. But any hope of the resuscitation of Court +Leets must not be entertained, because in so many places the manor +is now merely 'reputed,' and has no proper existence; because, too, +the lord of the manor may be living at a distance, and possess +scarcely any property in the parish, except his 'rights.' The idea, +however, of the agriculturists and principal residents in a village +meeting in a friendly manner together, under the direct leadership +of the largest landowner, to discuss village matters, is one that +may be revived with some prospect of success. At present, who, +pray, has the power of so much as convening a meeting of the +parishioners, or of taking the sense of the village? It may be done +by the churchwardens convening a Vestry, but a Vestry is extremely +limited in authority, unpopular, and without any cohesion. Under +the new Education Acts the signatures of a certain number of +ratepayers to a requisition compels the officer appointed by law to +call a meeting, but only for objects connected with the school. +Upon consideration it appears that there really is no village +authority at all; no recognized place or time at which the +principal inhabitants can meet together and discuss the affairs of +the parish with a prospect of immediate action resulting. The +meetings of the magistrates at petty sessions, quarter sessions, +and at various other times are purposely omitted from this +argument, because there is rarely more than one magistrate resident +in a village, or at most two, and the assemblies of these gentlemen +at a distance from their homes cannot be taken to form a village +council in any sense of the term. + +The places where agriculturists and the principal inhabitants of +the parish do meet together and discuss matters in a friendly +spirit are the churchyard, before service, the market dinner, the +hunting-field, and the village inn. The last has fallen into +disuse. It used to be the custom to meet at the central village inn +night after night to hear the news, as well as for convivial +purposes. In those days of slow travelling and few posts, the news +was communicated from village to village by pedlars, or carriers' +carts calling, as they went, at each inn. But now it is a rare +thing to find farmers at the inn in their own village. The old +drinking habits have died out. It is not that there is any +prejudice against the inn; but there is a cessation of the +inducement to sit there night after night. People do not care to +drink as they used to, and they can get the news just as well at +home. The parlour at the inn has ceased to be the village +parliament. The hunting-field is an unfavourable place for +discussion, since in the midst of a remark the hounds may start, +and away go speaker and listener, and the subject is forgotten. The +market dinner is not so general and friendly a meeting as it was. +There is a large admixture of manure and machinery agents, +travellers for seed-merchants, corn-dealers, and others who have no +interest in purely local matters, and the dinner itself is somewhat +formal, with its regular courses of fish and so forth, till the +talk is more or less constrained and general. The churchyard is a +singular place of meeting, but it is still popular. The +agriculturist walks into the yard about a quarter to eleven, sees a +friend; a third joins; then the squire strolls round from his +carriage, and a pleasant chat ensues, till the ceasing bell reminds +them that service is about to commence. But this is a very narrow +representation of the village, and is perhaps never made up on two +occasions of the same persons. The duration of the gathering is +extremely short, and it has no cohesion or power of action. + +It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the desultory nature +of village life. There is an utter lack of any kind of cohesion, a +total absence of any common interest, or social bond of union. There +is no _esprit de corps_. In old times there was, to a certain +extent--in the days when each village was divided against its +neighbour, and fiercely contested with it the honour of sending +forth the best backsword player. No one wishes those times to +return. We have still village cricket clubs, who meet each other in +friendly battle, but there is no enthusiasm over it. The players +themselves are scarcely excited, and it is often difficult to get +sufficient together to fulfil an engagement. There is the dinner of +the village benefit club, year after year. The object of the club is +of the best, but its appearance upon club-day is a woeful spectacle +to eyes that naturally look for a little taste upon an occasion of +supposed festivity. What can be more melancholy than a procession of +men clad in ill-fitting black clothes, in which they are evidently +uncomfortable, with blue scarves over the shoulder, headed with a +blatant brass band, and going first to church, and then all round +the place for beer? They eat their dinner and disperse, and then +there is an end of the matter. There is no social bond of union, no +connection. + +It is questionable whether this desultoriness is a matter for +congratulation. It fosters an idle, slow, clumsy, heedless race of +men--men who are but great children, who have no public feeling +whatever--without a leading idea. This fact was most patently +exhibited at the last General Election, when the agricultural +labourers for the first time exercised the franchise freely to any +extent. The great majority of them voted plump for the candidate +favoured by the squire or by the farmer. There was nothing +unreasonable in this; it is natural and fit that men should support +the candidate who comes nearest to their interest; but, then, let +there be some better reason for it than the simple fact 'that master +goes that way.' Whether it be for Liberal or Conservative, whatever +be the party, surely it is desirable that the labourer should +possess a leading idea, an independent conviction of what is for the +public good. Let it be a mistaken conviction, it is better than an +absence of all feeling; but politics are no part of the question. +Politics apart, the villager might surely have some conception of +what is best for his own native place, the parish in which he was +born and bred, and with every field in which he is familiar. But no, +nothing of the kind. He goes to and fro his work, receives his +wages, spends them at the ale-house, and wanders listlessly about. +The very conception of a public feeling never occurs to him; it is +all desultory. A little desultory work--except in harvest, +labourer's work cannot be called downright _work_--a little +desultory talk, a little desultory rambling about, a good deal of +desultory drinking: these are the sum and total of it; no, add a +little desultory smoking and purposeless mischief to make it +complete. Why should not the labourer be made to feel an interest in +the welfare, the prosperity, and progress of his own village? Why +should he not be supplied with a motive for united action? All +experience teaches that united action, even on small matters, has a +tendency to enlarge the minds and the whole powers of those engaged. +The labourer feels so little interest in his own progress, because +the matter is only brought before him in its individual bearing. You +can rarely interest a single person in the improvement of himself, +but you can interest a number in the progress of that number as a +body. The vacancy of mind, the absence of any ennobling aspiration, +so noticeable in the agricultural labourer, is a painful fact. Does +it not, in great measure, arise from this very desultory life--from +this procrastinating dislike to active exertion? Supply a motive--a +general public motive--and the labourer will wake up. At the present +moment, what interest has an ordinary agricultural labourer in the +affairs of his own village? Practically none whatever. He may, +perhaps, pay rates; but these are administered at a distance, and he +knows nothing of the system by which they are dispensed. If his +next-door neighbour's cottage is tumbling down, the thatch in holes, +the doors off their hinges, it matters nothing to him. Certainly, he +cannot himself pay for its renovation, and there is no fund to which +he can subscribe so much as a penny with that object in view. A +number of cottages may be without a supply of water. Well, he cannot +help it; probably he never gives a thought to it. There is no +governing body in the place responsible for such things--no body in +the election of which he has any hand. He puts his hands in his +pockets and slouches about, smoking a short pipe, and drinks a quart +at the nearest ale-house. He is totally indifferent. To go still +further, there can be no doubt that the absence of any such ruling +body, even if ruling only on sufferance, has a deteriorating effect +upon the minds of the best-informed and broadest-minded +agriculturist. He sees a nuisance or a grievance, possibly something +that may approach the nature of a calamity. 'Ah, well,' he sighs, 'I +can't help it; I've no power to interfere.' He walks round his farm, +examines his sheep, pats his horses, and rides to market, and +naturally forgets all about it. Were there any ready and available +means by which the nuisance could be removed, or the calamity in +some measure averted, the very same man would at once put it in +motion, and never cease till the desired result was attained; but +the total absence of any authority, any common centre, tends to +foster what appears an utter indifference. How can it be otherwise? +The absence of such a body tends, therefore, in two ways to the +injury of the labourer: first, because he has no means of helping +himself; and, secondly, because those above him in social station +have no means of assisting him. But why cannot the squire step in +and do all that is wanted? What is there that the landowner is not +expected to do? He is compelled by the law to contribute to the +maintenance of roads by heavy subscriptions, while men of much +larger income, but no real property, ride over them free of cost. He +is expected by public opinion to rebuild all the cottages on his +estate, introducing all the modern improvements, to furnish them +with large plots of garden ground, to supply them with coal during +the winter at nominal cost, to pay three parts of the expense of +erecting schools, and what not. He is expected to extend the +farm-buildings upon the farms, to rebuild the farmsteads, and now to +compensate the tenants for improvements, though he may not +particularly care for them, knowing full well by experience that +improvements are a long time before they pay any interest on the +principal invested. Now we expect him to remove all nuisances in the +village, to supply water, to exercise a wise paternal authority, and +all at his own cost. The whole thing is unreasonable. Many +landowners have succeeded to heavily-burdened estates. The best +estates pay, it must be remembered, but a very small comparative +interest upon their value--in some instances not more than two and a +half per cent. Moreover, almost all landowners do take an interest +in improvements, and are ready to forward them; but can a gentleman +be expected to go round from cottage to cottage performing the +duties of an inspector of nuisances? and, if he did so, would it be +tolerated for an instant? The outcry would be raised of +interference, tyranny, overbearing insolence, intolerable intrusion. +It is undoubtedly the landowner's duty to forward all reasonable +schemes of improvement; but if the inhabitants are utterly +indifferent to progress of any kind, it is not his duty to issue an +autocratical ukase. Let the inhabitants combine, in however loose +and informal a manner, and the landowner will always be ready to +assist them with purse and moral support. + +Granting, then, that there is at present no such local authority, +and that it is desirable--what are the objects which would come +within its sphere of operation? In an article which had the honour +of appearing in a former number of this magazine,[2] the writer +pointed out that the extension of the allotment system was only +delayed because there was no body or authority which had power to +increase the area under spade cultivation. Throughout the country +there is an undoubted conviction that such extension is extremely +desirable, but who is to take the initiative? There is an increasing +demand for these gardens--a demand that will probably make itself +loudly felt as time goes on and the population grows larger. Even +those villages that possess allotment grounds would be in a better +position if there were some body who held rule over the gardens, and +administered them according to varying circumstances. Some of these +allotments are upon the domain of the landowner, and have been +broken up for the purpose under his directions; but it is not every +gentleman who has either the time or the inclination to superintend +the actual working of the gardens, and they are often left pretty +much to take care of themselves. Other allotment grounds are simply +matters of speculation with the owner, and are let out to the +highest bidder in order to make money, without any species of +control whatever. This is not desirable for many reasons, and such +owners deprecate the extension of the system, because if a larger +area were offered to the labourer, the letting value would diminish, +since there would be less competition for the lots. There can be +very little doubt that the allotment garden will form an integral +part of the social system of the future, and, as such, will require +proper regulation. If it is to be so, it is obviously desirable that +it should be in the hands of a body of local gentlemen with a +perfect knowledge of the position and resource of the numerous small +tenants, and a thorough comprehension of the practical details which +are essential to success in such cultivation. It may be predicted +that the first step which would ensue upon the formation of such a +body would be an extension of allotments. There would be no +difficulty in renting a field or fields for that purpose. The +village council, as we may for convenience term it, would select a +piece of ground possessing an easily-moved soil, avoiding stiff clay +on the one hand, and too light, sandy ground on the other. For this +piece they would give a somewhat higher rent than it would obtain +for agricultural purposes--say £3 per acre--which they would +guarantee to the owner after the manner of a syndicate. They would +cause the hedges to be pared down to the very smallest proportions, +but the mounds to be somewhat raised, so as to avoid harbouring +birds, and at the same time safely exclude cattle, which in a short +time would play havoc with the vegetables. If possible, a road +should run right across the plot, with a gateway on either side, so +that a cart might pass straight through, pick up its load, and go on +and out without turning. Each plot should have a frontage upon this +road, or to branch roads running at right angles to it, so that each +tenant could remove his produce without trespassing upon the plot of +his neighbour. Such trespasses often lead to much ill-will. The +narrow paths dividing these strips should be sufficiently wide to +allow of wheeling a barrow down them, and should on no account be +permitted to be overgrown with grass. Grass-paths are much prettier, +but are simply reservoirs of couch, weeds, and slugs, and therefore +to be avoided. The whole field should be accurately mapped, and each +plot numbered on the map, and a strong plug driven into the plot +with a similar number upon it--a plan which renders identification +easy, and prevents disputes. A book should be kept, with the name of +every tenant entered into it, and indexed, like a ledger, with the +initial letter. Against the name of the tenant should be placed the +area of his holdings, and the numbers of his plots upon the map; and +in this book the date of his tenancy, and any change of holding, +should be registered. There should be a book of printed forms (not +to be torn out) of agreement, with blank spaces for name, date, and +number, which should be signed by the tenant. In a third book all +payments and receipts should be entered. This sounds commercial, and +looks like serious business; but as the rent would be payable +half-yearly only, there would be really very little trouble +required, and the saving of disputes very great. During the season +of cropping, the payment of a small gratuity to the village +policeman would insure the allotment being well watched, and if +pilferers were detected they should invariably be prosecuted. As +many of the tenants would come from long distances, and would not +frequent their plots every evening, there might possibly be a small +lock-up tool-house in which to deposit their tools, the key being +left in charge of some old man living in an adjacent cottage. The +rules of cultivation would depend in some measure upon the nature of +the soil, but such a village council would be composed of practical +men, who would have no difficulty whatever in drawing up concise and +accurate instructions. The council could depute one or more members +to receive the rent-money and to keep the books, and if any labour +were required, there are always bailiffs and trustworthy men who +could be employed to do it. At a small expense the field should be +properly drained before being opened, and even though let at a very +low charge per perch, there would still remain an overplus above the +rent paid by the council for the field, sufficient in a short time +to clear off the debt incurred in draining. + + [2] See 'Toilers of the Field,' by Richard Jefferies.--ED. + +It is very rarely that allotment gardens are sufficiently manured, +and this is a subject that would come very properly under the +jurisdiction of the allotment committee of our village council. Some +labourers keep a pig or two, but all do not; and many living at a +considerable distance would find, and do find, a difficulty in +conveying any manure they may possess to the spot. So it often +happens that gardens are cropped year after year without any +substances being restored to the soil, which gradually becomes less +productive. Means should be devised of supplying this deficiency. +Manure is valuable to the farmer, but still he could spare a +little--quite sufficient for this purpose. Suppose the allotment +gardens consisted of twelve acres, then let one-fourth, or three +acres, be properly manured every year. This would be no strain upon +the product of manure in the vicinity, and in four years--four +years' system--the whole of the field would receive a proper +amount, in addition to the small quantities the labourer's pig +produced. Every tenant, in his agreement, could be caused to pay, in +addition to his rent, once every four years, a small sum in +part-payment for this manuring, and also for the hauling of the +material to the field. This payment would not represent the actual +value of the manure, but it would maintain the principle of +self-help; and, as far as possible, the allotments should be +self-supporting. In cases of dispute, the committee would simply +have to refer the matter to the council, and the thing would be +definitely settled; but under a regular system of this kind, as it +were mapped down and written out, no obstinate disputes could arise. +In this one matter of allotment-gardens alone there is plenty of +scope for the exertions of a village council, and incalculable good +might be attained. The very order and systematic working of the +thing would have a salutary effect upon the desultory life of the +village. + +Next comes the water-supply of the village. This is a matter of +vital importance. There are, of course, villages where water is +abundant, even too abundant, as in low-lying meadow-land by the side +of rivers which are liable to overflow. There are villages traversed +throughout the whole of their length by a brook running parallel +with the road, so that to gain access to each cottage it is +necessary to cross a 'drock,' or small bridge, and in summer-time +such villages are very picturesque. In the colder months, the mist +on the water and damp air are not so pleasant or healthy. Many +villages, situated at the edge of a range of hills--a most favourite +position for villages--are supplied with good springs of the +clearest water rising in those hills. But there are also large +numbers of villages placed high up above the water-level on the same +hills, which are most scantily supplied with water; and there are +also villages far away down in the valley which are liable to run +short in the summer or dry time, when the 'bourne,' or winter +watercourse, fails them. Such places, situated in the midst of rich +meadows, can sometimes barely find water enough for the cattle, who +are not so particular as to quality. Even in places where there is a +good natural spring, or a brook which is rarely dry, the cottagers +experience no little difficulty in conveying it to their homes, +which may be situated a mile away. It is not uncommon in country +places to see the water trickling along in the ditch by the roadside +bayed up with a miniature dam in front of a cottage, and from the +turbid pool thus formed the woman fills her kettle. People who live +in towns, and can turn on the water in any room of their houses +without the slightest exertion, have no idea of the difficulty the +poor experience in the country in procuring good water, despite all +the beautiful rivers and springs and brooks which poetry sings of. +After a man or woman has worked all day in the field, perhaps at a +distance of two miles from home, it is weary and discouraging work +to have to trudge with the pail another weary half-mile or so to the +pool for water. It is harder still, after trudging that weary +half-mile, pail in hand, to find the water almost too low to dip, +muddied by cattle, and diminished in quantity to serve the pressing +needs of the animals living higher up the stream. Now, in starting, +it may be assumed that the nearest source of water in a village is +certain to be found upon the premises of some agriculturist. He +will, doubtless, be perfectly willing to allow free access to his +stream or pool; but he cannot be expected to construct conveniences +for the public use, and he may even feel naturally annoyed if +continual use by thirty people, twice a day, finally breaks his +pump. He naturally believes that other gentlemen in the village +should take an equal interest with himself in the public welfare, +but they do not appear to do so. It may be that the path to the pump +leads through the private garden, right before his sitting-room +window, and the constant passage of women and children for water, +particularly children, who are apt to lounge and stare about them, +becomes a downright nuisance. This, surely, ought not to be. A very +little amount of united action on the part of the principal +inhabitants of the village would put this straight. The pump could +be repaired, a new path made, and the water conveyed to a stone +trough by a hose, or something of the kind, and the owner would be +quite willing to sanction it, but he does not see why it should all +be done at his expense. The other inhabitants of the village see the +difficulty, recognize it, perhaps talk about remedying it, but +nothing is done, simply because there exists no body, no council to +undertake it. Spontaneous combination is extremely uncertain in its +action; the organization should exist before the necessity for +utilizing it arises. In other places what is wanted is a well, but +cottagers cannot afford to dig a deep well, and certainly no +combination can be expected from them alone and unassisted. Village +wells require also to be under some kind of supervision. At +intervals they require cleaning out. The machinery for raising water +must be prepared; the cover to prevent accidents to children +renewed. A well that has no one to look after it quickly becomes the +receptacle of all the stones and old boots and dead cats in the +place. But if there is a terror of prosecution, the well remains +clear and useful. The digging of a deep well is an event of national +importance, so to say, to a village. It may happen that a noble +spring of water bursts out some little distance from the village, +but is practically useless to the inhabitants because of its +distance. What more easy than to run a hose from it right to a stone +trough, or dipping-place, in the centre of the village? In most +cases, very simple engineering ability would be sufficient to supply +the hamlet. The hose, or whatever the plan might be, need not take +half nor a quarter of the water thrown out by the spring. The owner +might object; certainly he would object to any forcible carrying +away of his water; but if he were himself a party to the scheme, and +to receive compensation for any injury, he would not do so. + +Water has been the cause of more disputes, probably, than +anything else between neighbouring agriculturists. One wishes it +for his water-meadows, another for his cattle, a third for his +home-consumption; then there is, perhaps, the miller to be +consulted. After all, there is, in most cases, more than enough +water for everybody, and a very little mutual yielding would +accommodate all, and supply the village in the bargain. But each +party being alone in his view, without any mediator, the result +may be a lawsuit, or ill-blood, lasting for years; the cutting +down of bays and dams, the possible collision of the men +employed. + +Between these parties, between agriculturists themselves, the +establishment of a species of village council would often lead to +peace and harmony. The advice and expressed wishes of their +neighbour, the influence of the clergyman and the resident landlord, +and the existence of a common public want in the village, would have +an irresistible effect; and what neither would yield to his +opponent, all would yield to a body of friends. Taken in this way it +may safely be considered that there would be no difficulty in +obtaining access to water. In places which are still less fortunate +and, especially in dry times, are at a greater distance from the +precious element, there still remains a plan by which sufficient +could be secured, and that is the portable water-tank. Our +agricultural machinists now turn out handsome and capacious iron +tanks which are coming into general use. Now, no one farmer can be +expected to send water-tank and team three or four times every +evening to fetch up water for the use of cottagers, not +one-twentieth of whom work for him. But why should there not be a +tank, the public property of the village, and why should not teams +take it in turn? Undoubtedly something of the kind would immediately +spring into existence were there any village organization whatever. +In a large number of villages, the natural supply would be +sufficient during three parts of the year, and it would be only in +summer that any assistance would be necessary. + +While on the subject of water, another matter may as well be dealt +with, and that is the establishment of bathing-places near villages. +This is, of course, impossible over considerable areas of country +where water is scarce, and especially scarce in the bathing season. +Even in many places, however, where water is comparatively deficient +in quantity, there are usually some great ponds, which for part of +the season could be made applicable for bathing purposes. There then +remain an immense number of villages situated on or near a stream, +and wherever there is a stream a bathing-place is practicable. At +the present moment it would be difficult to find one such place, +unless on the banks of a large river, and rivers are far between. +The boys and young men who feel a natural desire to bathe in the +warm weather resort to muddy ponds, with a filthy bottom of black +slush, or paddle about in shallow brooks no more than knee-deep, or +in the water-carriers in water meadows. This species of bathing is +practically useless; it does not answer any purposes of cleanliness, +and learning to swim is out of the question. The formation of a +proper bathing-place presents few difficulties. A spot must be +chosen near to the village, but far enough away for decency. The +bottom of the stream should be covered with a layer of sand and +small gravel, carefully avoiding large stones and sharp-edged +flints. Much of the pleasure of bathing depends upon a good bottom, +and nothing is more likely to deter a young beginner than the +feeling that he cannot place his feet on the ground without the +danger of lacerating them. For this reason, also, care should be +taken to exclude all boughs and branches, and particularly the +prickly bushes cut from hedges, which are most annoying to bathers. +The stream should be bayed up to a depth at the deepest part of +about five feet, which is quite deep enough for ordinary swimming, +and reduces the danger to a minimum. If possible, a strong smooth +rail should run across the pool, or partly across. This is for the +encouragement of boys and young bathers, who like something to catch +hold of, and it is also an adjunct in learning to swim, for the boy +can stand opposite to it, and after two or three strokes place his +hand on it, and so gradually increasing the distance, he can swim +without once losing confidence. Those who cannot swim can hold to +the rail and splash about and enjoy themselves. Such a bathing-place +will sound childish enough to strong swimmers, who have learnt to go +long distances with ease in the Thames or in the sea, but it must be +remembered that we are dealing with an inland population who are +timid of water. A boy who can cross such a small pool without +touching the bottom with his feet, would soon feel at home in +broader waters, if ever circumstances should bring him near them. If +there is no stream a large pond could be cleaned out, and sand and +gravel placed upon the bottom--almost anything is better than the +soft oozy mud, which, once stirred up, will not settle for hours, +and destroys all pleasure or benefit from bathing. No building is +necessary to dress in, or anything of that kind. The place selected +would be, of course, at a distance from any public footpath, and +even if it were near there are so few passing in rural outlying +districts that no one need be shocked. But if it was considered +necessary an older man could be paid a small sum to walk down every +evening, or at the stated hours for bathing, and see that no +irregularity occurred. A loose pole or two always kept near the +stream or pond, and ready to hand, would amply provide against any +little danger there might be. Bathing is most important to health, +and if a really good swim is possible there is nothing so conducive +to an elasticity of frame. Our labourers are notoriously strong and +muscular, and possess considerable power of endurance (though they +destroy their 'wind,' in running phraseology, by too much beer), but +their strength is clumsy, their gait ungainly, their run heavy and +slow. The freedom of motion in the water, the simultaneous use of +arms and limbs, the peculiar character of the exercise, renders it +one, above all others, calculated to give an ease and grace to the +body. In a good physical education, swimming must form an important +part; and the labourer requires a physical education quite as much +as a mental. The bathing-place, as a means of inducing personal +cleanliness, would have its uses. The cottages of the labouring poor +are often models of cleanliness, but the persons of the inhabitants +precisely the reverse. The expense of such a bathing-place need be +but very small. If it was situated in a cow-leaze, the bathing could +begin the moment the spring became warm enough; if in a meadow +usually mown, as soon as the grass has been cut, which would be +early in June. It would perhaps be necessary to have stated hours of +bathing; but no other regulation--the less restriction the better +the privilege would be appreciated. Exercises of this character +could not be too much encouraged. Every accomplishment of the kind +adds a new power to the man, and gives him a sense of superiority. + +There should be a rough kind of gymnasium for the villagers. Almost +always a piece of waste ground could be found, and the requisite +materials are very simple and inexpensive. A few upright poles for +climbing; horizontal bars; a few ropes, and a ladder would be +sufficient. In wet weather some large open cow-house could be +utilized for such purposes. In summer such outbuildings are empty, +the cattle being in the fields. A few pairs of quoits also could be +added at a small cost. Wrestling, perhaps, had better be avoided, as +liable to lead to quarrels; but jumping and running should be +fostered, and prizes presented for excellence. It is not the value +of the prize, it is the fact that it is a prize. A good strong +pocket-knife with four or five blades would be valued by a +ploughboy, and a labourer would be pleased with an ornamental pipe +costing five shillings, or a hoe or spade could be substituted as +more useful. + +The institution of such annual village games, the bathing-place, the +gymnasium in the open air, the running match, the quoits, would have +a tendency to awaken the emulation of the labouring class; and once +awaken the emulation, an increase of intelligence follows. A man +would feel that he was not altogether a mere machine, to do so much +work and then trudge home and sleep. Lads would have something +better to do than play pitch-and-toss, and slouch about the place, +learning nothing but bad language. A life would be imparted to the +village, there would be a centre of union, a gathering-place, and a +certain amount of proper pride in the village, and an _esprit de +corps_ would spring up. In all these things the labourer should be +encouraged to carry them out as much as possible in his own way, and +without interference or supervision. Make the bathing-place, erect +the poles and horizontal bars, establish the pocket-knife and hoe +prizes, present the quoits, but let him use them in his own way. +There must be freedom, liberty, or the attempt would certainly fail. + +How many villages have so much as a reading-room? Such a local +council as has been indicated would soon come to discuss the +propriety of establishing such an institution. If managed strictly +with a view to the real wants and ideas of the people, and not in +accordance with any preconceived principles of so-called +instruction, it would be certain to succeed. The labouring poor +dislike instruction being forced down their throats quite as much, +or more, than the upper classes. The very worst way to induce a man +to learn is to begin by telling him he is ignorant, and thereby +insulting his self-esteem. A village reading-room should be open to +all, and not to subscribers only. From six till nine in the evening +would be long enough for it to be open, and the key could be kept by +some adjacent cottager. With every respect for the schoolmaster, let +the schoolmaster be kept away from it. If there is a night-school, +keep it distinct from the reading-room; let the reading-room be a +voluntary affair, without the slightest suspicion of _drill_ +attaching to it. It should be a place where a working man could come +in, and sit down and _spell_ over a book, without the consciousness +that someone was watching him, ready to snap him up at a mistake. +Exclude all 'goody' books; there are sects in villages as well as +towns, and the presence of an obnoxious work may do much harm. To +the Bible itself, in clear print, no sect will object; but let it be +the Bible only. A collection of amusing literature can easily be +made. For £5 enough books could be bought on an old bookstall in +London to stock a village library; such as travels, tales--not +despising Robinson Crusoe--and a few popular expositions of science. +There should be one daily paper. It could be brought by one of the +milk-carts from the nearest railway-station. This daily paper would +form a very strong counteraction to the ale-house. Of course, the +ale-house would start a daily in opposition; but at the reading-room +the labourer would soon learn that he need not purchase a glass of +beer in order to pay for his news. The daily paper would be a most +important feature, for such papers are rare in villages. Very few +farmers even take them. The rent of a room for this purpose in a +village would be almost nominal. A small room would be sufficient, +for only a few would be present at a time. Cricket clubs may be left +to establish themselves. + +The next suggestion the writer is about to make will be thought a +very bold one; but is it not rational enough when the first novelty +of the idea has subsided? It is, that an annual excursion should be +arranged for the villagers. It is common to see in the papers +appeals made on behalf of the poor children of crowded districts in +London, for funds to give them a day in the country. It is stated +that they never see anything but stone pavements; never breathe +anything but smoky air. The appeal is a proper and good one, and +should be generously responded to. Now, the position of the villager +is the exact antithesis. He, or she, sees nothing but green fields +or bare fields all the year round. They hear nothing but a constant +iteration of talk about cattle, crops, and weather--important +matters, but apt to grow monotonous. It may be, that for thirty +years they never for one day lose sight of the hills overhanging the +village. Their subjects of conversation are consequently extremely +narrow. They want a change quite as much as the dwellers in cities; +but it is a change of another character--a change to bustle and +excitement. Factories and large tradesmen arrange trips for their +work-people once or twice a year. Why should not the agricultural +labourers have a trip? A trip of the simplest kind would satisfy +them, and afford matter of conversation for months. All railway +lines now issue tickets at reduced rates for parties above a certain +number. For instance, to the population of an inland village, what +would be more delightful than a few hours on the sea-beach? Where +the sea is not within easy reach, take them to a great town--if +possible, London--but if not London, any large town will be a +change. There is no great difficulty in the plan. Perhaps twenty or +thirty would be the largest number who would wish to go. Let these +assemble at a stated hour and place, and take them down to the +railway-station with two or three waggons and teams, which should +also meet them on their return. The expense would not be great, and +might be partly borne by the excursionists themselves. All that is +wanted is some amount of leadership, a little organization. Such +enterprises as these would go far to create a genuine mutual +understanding and pleasant feeling between employer and employed. +There may be outlying places where such an excursion would be very +difficult. Then harness the horses to the waggons, and take them to +a picnic ten miles off on a noted hill or heath, or by the side of a +river--somewhere for a change. + +To return to more serious matters. Perhaps it would be as well if +the first endeavour of such a local authority were addressed to the +smaller matters that have been just alluded to, so that the public +mind might become gradually accustomed to change, and prepared for +greater innovations. Village drainage is notoriously defective. +Anyone who has walked through a village or hamlet must be perfectly +well aware that there is no drainage, from the unpleasant odours +that constantly assail the nostrils. It seems absurd, that with such +an expanse of open country around, and with such an exposure to the +fresh air, such foul substances should be permitted to contaminate +the atmosphere. Each cottager either throws the sewage right into +the road, and allows it to find its way as it can by the same +channel as the rain-water; or, at best, flings it into the ditch at +the back, which parts the garden from the agricultural land. Here it +accumulates and soaks into the soil till the first storm of rain, +which sweeps it away, but at the same time causes an abominable +smell. It is positively unbearable to pass some cottages after a +fresh shower. + +Not unfrequently this ditch at the back of the garden runs down to +the stream from which the cottagers draw their water, and the +dipping-place may be close to the junction of the two. In places +where there is a fall--when the cottages are built upon a +slope--there can be little difficulty about drainage; but here steps +in the question of water-supply, for drains of this character +require flushing. The supply of water must, therefore, in such +places, precede the attempt at drainage. The disposal of the sewage, +when collected, offers no difficulty. Its value is well understood, +and it would be welcomed upon agricultural land. In the case of +villages where there is no natural fall, and small hamlets and +outlying cottages, the Moule system should be encouraged, especially +as it affords a valuable product that can be transported to the +allotment garden. A certain amount of most unreasonable prejudice +exists against the introduction of this useful contrivance, which +every means should be used to overcome. Now, most farm-houses stand +apart, and in their own grounds, where any system of sewer is almost +impossible. These are the very places where the Moule plan is +available; and if agriculturists were to employ it, the poor would +quickly learn its advantages. It would, perhaps, be even better than +a public sewer in large villages, for a sewer entails an amount of +supervision, repairs, and must have an outfall, and other +difficulties, such as flushing with water, and, if neglected, it +engenders sewer-gas, which is more dangerous than the sewage itself. +The plan to be pursued depends entirely upon the circumstances of +the place and the configuration of the ground. The subject of +drainage connects itself with that of nuisances. This is, perhaps, +the most difficult matter with which a local authority would have to +deal. Nuisances are comparative. One man may not consider that to be +a nuisance which may be an intolerable annoyance to his neighbour. +The keeping of pigs, for instance, is a troublesome affair. The +cottager cannot be requested to give up so reasonable a habit; but +there can be no doubt that the presence of a number of pigs in a +village, in their dirty sties, and with their accompanying heaps of +decaying garbage, is very offensive, and perhaps unhealthy. The pig +itself, though commonly called a dirty animal, is not anything near +so bad as has been represented. To convince oneself of that it is +only necessary to visit farm-buildings which are well looked after. +The pigsties have no more smell than the stables, because the manure +is removed, and no garbage is allowed to accumulate. It is the man +who keeps the pig that makes it filthy and repulsive, and not the +animal itself. Regular and _clean_ food has also much to do with it, +such as barley-meal. Cottagers cannot afford barley-meal, but they +certainly could keep their sties much cleaner. It does not seem +possible to attack the nuisance with any other means than that of +persuasion, unless some plan could be devised of keeping pigs in a +common building outside the village; or at any rate, of having the +manure taken outside at short intervals. Such nuisances as stagnant +ponds and mud-filled ditches are more easily dealt with, because +they are public, and interference with them would not touch upon any +man's liberty of action. Stagnant ponds are of no use to +anyone--even horses will not drink at them. The simple plan is to +remove the mud, and then fill them up level with the ground, laying +in drain-pipes to carry off the water which accumulated there. But +some of these ponds could be utilized for the benefit of passing +horses and cattle. They are fed with a running stream, but, being no +man's property, the pond becomes choked with mud and manure, and the +small inflow of pure water is not enough to overcome the noisome +exhalations. These should be cleaned out now and then, and, if +possible, the bottom laid down with gravel or small stones, making +the pond shallow at the edges, and for some distance in. Nothing is +more valuable upon a country road than ponds of this character, into +which a jaded horse can walk over his fetlock, and cool his feet at +the same time that he refreshes his thirst. They are most welcome to +cattle driven along the road. + +The moral nuisances of drunkenness, gambling, and bad language at +the corners of the streets and cross-roads had best be left to the +law to deal with, though the influence of a local council in reproof +and caution would undoubtedly be considerable. But if a +bathing-place, an out-of-doors gymnasium, and such things, were +established, these evils would almost disappear, because the younger +inhabitants would have something to amuse themselves with; at +present they have nothing whatever. + +A local authority of this kind would confer a great boon upon the +agricultural poor if they could renovate the old idea of a common. +Allotment grounds are most useful, but they do not meet every want. +The better class of cottagers, who have contrived to save a little +money, often try to keep a cow, and before the road surveyors grew +so strict, they had little difficulty in doing so. But now the roads +are so jealously and properly preserved purely for traffic, the +cottager has no opportunity of grazing a cow or a donkey. It would +not be possible in places where land is chiefly arable, nor in +others where the meadow-land is let at a high rent, but still there +are places where a common could be provided. It need not be the best +land. The poorest would do. Those who graze should pay a small +fee--so much per head per week. Such a field would be a great +benefit, and an encouragement to those who were inclined to save. + +In almost every parish there are a number of public charities. Many +of these are unfortunately expressly devised for certain purposes, +from which they cannot be diverted without much trouble and +resorting to high authorities. But there are others left in a loose +manner for the good of the poor, and the very origin of which is +doubtful. Such are many of the pieces of land scattered about the +country, the rent of which is paid to the churchwardens for the time +being, in trust for the poor. At present these charities are +dissipated in petty almsgiving, such as so much bread and a +fourpenny-piece on a certain day of the year, a blanket or cloak at +Christmas, and so on, the utility of which is more than doubtful. +Stories are currently believed of such four penny-pieces purchasing +quarts of ale, and of such blankets being immediately sold to raise +money for the same end. A village council would be able to suggest +many ways in which the income of these charities could be far better +employed. The giving of coal has already been substituted in some +places for the fourpenny-piece and blanket, which is certainly a +sensible change; but if possible it would be better to avoid +so-called charity altogether. Why should not the income of half a +dozen villages lying adjacent to each other be concentrated upon a +cottage hospital, or upon a hospital for lying-in women, which is +one of the great desiderata in country places. Such institutions +afford charity of the highest and best character, without any +degradation to the recipient. At the present moment the woman who +has lost her reputation, and is confined with an illegitimate child, +simply proceeds to the workhouse, where she meets with every +attention skilled nurses and science can afford. The labourer's wife +is left to languish in a close overcrowded room, and permitted to +resume her household labours before she has properly recovered. +There is nothing more wretched than the confinement of an +agricultural labourer's wife. + +The health of villagers, notwithstanding the pure air, is often +prejudiced by the overcrowding of cottages. This overcrowding may +not be sufficiently great to render an appeal to the legal +authorities desirable, and yet may be productive of very bad +effects, both moral and physical. It is particularly the case where +the cottages are the property of the labourer himself, and are held +at a low quit-rent. The labourer cannot afford to rebuild the +cottage, which has descended to him from his father, or possibly +grandfather, and which was originally designed for one small family, +but, in the course of years, three or four members of that family +have acquired a right of residence in it. Of this right they are +extremely tenacious, though it may be positively injurious to them. +As many as two married men, with wives and children, may crowd +themselves into this dirty hovel, with a result of quarrelling and +immorality that cannot be surpassed; in fact, some things that have +happened in such places are not to be mentioned. Under the best +circumstances it often happens that there are not sufficient +cottages in a parish for the accommodation of the necessary workmen. +Complaints are continually arising, from no one so much as from the +agriculturists, who can never depend upon their men remaining +because of the deficiency of lodging. It is not often that the +entire parish belongs to one landlord; frequently, there are four or +five landlords, and a large number of freehold properties let to +tenants. Nor even where parishes are more or less the property of +one person, is it always practicable for the estate to bear the +burden of additional cottage building. The cost of a cottage varies +more, perhaps, than any other estimate, according to the size, the +materials to be employed, and their abundance in the neighbourhood. +But it may be safely believed that the estimates given to landowners +and others desirous of erecting cottages, very much exceed the sum +at which they can be built. Deduct the hauling of materials--a +considerable item--which could be done by the farmers themselves at +odd times. + +In some places the materials may be found upon an adjacent farm, and +for such purposes might be had for a nominal sum. Altogether, a very +fair cottage might be built for £100 to £150, according to the +circumstances. These, of course, would not be ornamental houses with +Gothic porches and elaborate gables; but plain cottages, and quite +as comfortable. In round figures, four such places might be erected +for £500.[3] For a large parish will contain as many as twenty +farmers, and some more than that: £500 distributed between twenty is +but £25 apiece, and this sum could be still further reduced if the +landlords, the clergy, and the principal inhabitants are calculated +to take an interest in the matter. Let it be taken at £20 each, and +the product four cottages. As there are supposed to be twenty farms, +it may be reckoned that eight or ten new cottages would be welcome. +This would vary with circumstances. In some places five would be +sufficient. Ten would be the very highest number; and may be +considered quite exceptional. Now for the repayment of the +investment of £20. Four cottages at 2s. per week equals £20 per +annum. At this rate in five-and-twenty years, each subscriber would +be paid back his principal; say, after the manner of bonds, one +redeemable every year, and drawn for by lot. An agriculturist who +invests £100 or £150 in a cottage expects some interest upon his +money; but he can afford to sink £20 for a few years in view of +future benefit. But there are means by which the repayment could be +much accelerated; _i.e._, by inducing the tenant of a cottage to pay +a higher rent, and so become, after a time, the possessor of the +tenement, in the same way as with building societies. + + [3] This, of course, is upon the supposition that the materials + are obtained at a nominal cost, and the hauling not charged for. + +It may, however, be considered preferable that the cottages should +remain the property of the village council--each member receiving +back his original payment. This is thrown out merely as a +suggestion; but this much is clear, that were there an organization +of this kind there would be no material difficulty in the way of +increasing the cottage accommodation. A number of gentlemen working +together would overcome the want with ease. At all events, if they +did not go so far as to erect new cottages, they might effect a +great deal of improvement in repairing dilapidated places, and +enlarging existing premises. + +In thus rapidly sketching out the various ways in which a local +village authority might encourage the growth and improvement of the +place, it has been endeavoured to indicate, in a suggestive manner, +the way in which such an authority might be established. It is not +for one moment proposed that an application should be made to the +Legislature for a special enactment enabling such councils to act +with legal force. To such a course there would certainly arise the +most vigorous opposition on the part of all classes of the +agricultural community, from landlord, tenant, and labourer alike. +There exists an irresistible dislike to any form of 'imperial' +interference, as is amply proved by the resistance offered to the +School Board system, and by the comparative impotence of the rural +sanitary authorities. People would rather suffer annoyance than call +in an outside power. The species of local authority here indicated +must be founded entirely upon the will of the inhabitants +themselves; and its power be derived rather from acquiescence than +from inherent force. In fact, the major part of its duties would not +require any legal power. The allotment-garden, the cottage repair, +the common, the bathing-place, reading-room, etc., would require no +legal authority to render them useful and attractive. Neither is it +probable that any serious opposition would be made to a system of +drainage, and certainly none whatever to an improved water supply. +No force would be necessary, and the whole moral influence of +landlord, and tenant, and clergy, would sway in the proposed +direction. It has often been remarked that the agricultural +class--the tenant farmer--is the one least capable of combination, +and there is a great deal of truth in the assertion of the lack of +all cohesion, and united action. It must, however, be remembered +that until very lately no kind of combination has been proposed, no +attempt made to organize action. That, at least in local matters, +agriculturists are capable of combination and united action has +been proved by the strenuous exertions made to retain the voluntary +school system, and also by the endeavours made for the restoration +of village churches. If the total of the sums obtained for schools +and for village church restoration could be ascertained, it would be +found to amount to something very great; and in the case of the +schools, at any rate, and to some degree in the case of +restorations, the administration of the funds has rested upon the +leading farmers assembled in committees. When once a number of +agriculturists have formed a combination with an understood object, +they are less liable to be thrown into disorder by factious +differences amongst themselves than any other class of men. They are +willing to agree to anything reasonable, and do not persist in +amendments just in order that a favourite crotchet may be gratified. +In other words, they are amenable to common sense and practical +arguments. + +There would be very little doubt of harmonious action if once such a +combination was formed. It could be started in many ways--by the +clergyman asking the tenants of the parish to meet him in the +village school-room, and there giving a rapid sketch of the proposed +organization; and if any landlord, or magistrate, or leading +gentleman was present, the thing would be set on its legs on the +spot. In most parishes there are one or more large tenant farmers +who naturally take the lead in their own class, and they would +speedily obtain adherents to the movement. It would be as well, +perhaps, if the attempt were made, for the promoters to draw up a +species of circular for distribution in every house and cottage in +the parish, explaining the objects of the association, and inviting +co-operation on the part of rich and poor alike. Once a meeting was +called together, and a committee appointed, the principal difficulty +would be got over. + +The next matter--in fact, the first matter for the consideration of +such a committee--would be the method of raising funds. All +legally-established bodies have powers of obtaining money, as by +rates; but the example of the independent schools and church +restorations has amply proved that money will be forthcoming for +proper purposes without resort to compulsion. The abolition of +Church-rates has not in any way tended to the degradation of the +Church; perhaps, on the contrary, more has been done towards Church +extension since that date than before. A voluntary rate is still +collected in many places, and produces a considerable sum, the +calculation being made upon the basis of the poor-rate assessment. +The objects of such a village association being eminently +practical, devoid of any sectarian bearing and thoroughly local in +application, there would probably be little difficulty in +collecting a small voluntary rate for its support, even amongst the +poorest of the population. The cottager would not grudge a few +pence for objects in which he has an obvious interest, and which +are close at home; but in the formation of the association it +would, perhaps, be practicable to begin with a subscription of one +guinea each from every member, the subscription of one guinea per +annum endowing the giver with voting power at the meetings. If +there were five-and-twenty farmers in a parish, there would be +five-and-twenty guineas (it is not probable that any farmer would +stand out from such a society), and five-and-twenty guineas would +be quite sufficient to start the thing. Suppose the society +commence with supplying additional allotment-grounds. They rent, +say, eight acres at £2 10s. per acre, equalling £20 per annum; but +they only expend £10 on rent for one half-year, because the other +half will be paid by incoming tenants. The labour to be expended on +the plot in making it tenable can hardly be reckoned, because, in +all probability, it would be done by their own men at odd times. +Many places would not require draining at all, and it need not be +done at starting, and the generality of fields are already drained. +So that about £15 would suffice to start the allotment-grounds, +leaving £10 in hand to make a bathing-place with, or to erect a +pump, or purchase hose or tank for water-supply. Here we have a +considerable progress arrived at with one year's subscription only, +not counting on any subscription from the landlord, or clergy, or +resident gentlemen. The funds required are, in fact, not nearly so +large as might be imagined. Most of these improvements, when once +started, would last for some years without further outlay; the +allotments would probably return a small income. It is not so +necessary to do everything in one year. Add the sums collected on +the low rate to the yearly subscription of the members, and there +would probably be sufficient for every purpose, except that of +cottage repairs or the erection of new cottages. Such more +expensive matters would require shareholders investing larger sums; +but the income already mentioned would probably enable all ordinary +improvements to be carried out, even draining; and, after a year or +two, a small reserve fund would even accumulate. It would, however, +be important to bring the poorer class to feel that these matters, +in a manner, depended upon their own exertions. There might be a +subscription of twopence a month for certain given objects, as the +bathing-place, the water-tank, or other things in hand at the time; +and it would probably be well responded to. They should also be +invited to give their labour free of charge after farm work. In the +case of important alterations affecting the whole village, such as +drainage, they might be asked to meet the society in the +school-room, and then let the matter be put to the vote. After a +few months, there can be no doubt the labouring population would +come to take a very animated interest in such proceedings. There is +a great deal of common sense in the labourer, and once let him see +the practical as opposed to the theoretical benefit, and his +co-operation is certain. + +The members of the society would have no trouble in electing a +committee. There might be more than one committee to attend to +different matters, as the allotment and the water-supply, because +it would happen that one gentleman would have more practical +knowledge of gardening, and another would have more acquaintance +with the means of dealing with water, from the experience gained in +his own water meadows. There should be a president of the society, a +treasurer, and secretary; and a general meeting might take place +once every two months, the committee meeting as circumstances +dictated. Any member having a scheme to propose could draw up a +short outline of his plan in writing, and submit it to the general +meeting, when, if it met with favour, it could be handed over to a +committee for execution. + +Such an association might call itself the village Local Society. It +would be distinct from all party politics; it would have nothing to +do with individual disputes or grievances between landlord and +tenant; it would most carefully disclaim all sectarian objects. It +would meet in a friendly genial manner, and if a few bottles of +sherry could be placed on the table the better. A formal, hard, +entirely business-like meeting is undesirable and to be avoided. The +affairs in progress should be discussed in a free, open manner, and +without any attempt at set speeches, though to prevent mistakes +propositions would have to be moved and seconded, and entered in a +minute-book. Such a society would be the means of bringing gentlemen +together from distant parts of the parish, and would lead to a more +intimate social connection. It would have other uses than those for +which it was formally instituted. In the event of a serious +outbreak of fever in the village, or any infectious disease, it +might be of the very greatest utility in affording assistance to the +poor, and in making arrangements for preventing the spread of +infection by the plan of isolation. It might set apart a cottage for +the reception of patients, and engage additional medical assistance. +The influence it would exercise in the village and parish would be +very great, and might produce a decided improvement in the moral +tone of the place. In the event of disaffection and agitation +arising among the labouring classes, it might be enabled to +establish a reasonable compromise, and, in time, a good many little +petty disputes among the poor would be referred to the society for +arbitration. + +In large villages it might be found advantageous to establish a +ladies' committee in connection with such a society. There are many +matters in which the ladies are better agents, and possess a special +knowledge. It may, perhaps, be thought rather an advanced idea; but +would not some instruction in cookery be extremely useful to the +agricultural girl just growing up into womanhood? The cooking she +learns at home is simply no cooking at all. It is hardly possible to +induce the elder women to change the habits of a lifetime, but the +girls, fast growing up, would be eager to learn. With the increase +of wages, the labourer has obtained a certain addition to his fare, +and can occasionally afford some of the cheaper pieces of butcher's +meat. But the women have no idea of utilizing these pieces in the +most economical and savoury ways. Plentiful as vegetables are at +times, they are only used in the coarsest manner. The ladies' +committee would also have important work before them in boarding out +the orphan children from the Union, and also in endeavouring to find +employment for the great girls who play about the village, getting +them into service, and so on. In the distribution of charities (if +charities there must be), ladies are far more efficient than men, +and they may exercise an influence in moral matters where no one +else could interfere. If there is any charity which deserves to be +assisted by this local society, it is the cheapening of coals in the +winter. Already in some villages the principal farmers combine to +purchase a good stock of coal at the beginning of winter, and as +they buy it in large quantities they get it somewhat cheaper. Their +teams and waggons haul it to the village, and in the dead of winter +it is retailed to the cottagers at less than cost price. This is a +most useful institution, and can hardly be called a charity. The +fact that this has been done is a proof that organization for +objects of local benefit is quite possible in rural parishes. +Landowners and resident gentlemen would naturally take an interest +in such proceedings, and may very properly be asked to subscribe; +but the actual execution of the plans decided on should be left in +the hands of tenant-farmers, who have a direct interest, and who +come into daily contact with the lower class. As a means of adding +to their funds, the society could give popular entertainments of +reading and singing, which have often been found effective in +raising money for the purchase of a new harmonium, and which, at the +same time, afford a harmless gratification. It would, perhaps, be +better if such a society were to keep itself distinct from any +project of church restoration, or even from the school question, +because it is most essential that they should be free from the +slightest suspicion of leaning towards any party. Their authority +must be based upon universal consent. They might perform a useful +task if they could induce the cottagers to insure their goods and +chattels, or in any way assist them to do so. Cottages are +exceptionably liable to conflagration, and after the place is burnt, +there is piteous weeping and wailing, and general begging to replace +the lost furniture and bedding. There is much to be done also in the +matter of savings. It seems to be pretty well demonstrated by the +history of benefit clubs and the calculations of actuaries, that the +agricultural labourer, out of his amount of wages, cannot put by a +sufficient monthly contribution to enable him to receive a pension +when he becomes old and infirm. But that is not the slightest reason +why he should not save small sums year by year, which, in course of +time, would amount to a nice little thing to fall back upon in case +of sickness or accident. There are many aged and deserving men who +have worked all their lives in one place and almost upon one farm, +and, at last, are reduced to the pitiful allowance of the parish, +occasionally supplemented by a friendly gift. These cases are very +painful to witness, and are felt to be wrong by the tenant-farmers. +But one person cannot entirely support them; and often it happens +that the man who would have done his best is dead--the old employer +for whom they worked so many years is gone before them to his rest. +If there were but a little organization such cases would not pass +unnoticed. + +Certain it is that the tendency of the age, and the progress of +recent events, indicates the coming of a time when organization of +some kind in rural districts will be necessary. The labour-agitation +was a lesson of this kind. There are upheaving forces at work among +the agricultural lower class as well as in the lower class of towns; +a flow of fresh knowledge, and larger aspirations, which require +guidance and supervision, lest they run to riot and excess. An +organization of the character here indicated would meet the +difficulties of the future, and meet them in the best of ways; for +while possessing power to improve and to reform, it would have no +hated odour of compulsion. The suggestions here put forth are, of +course, all more or less tentative. They sketch an outline, the +filling up of which must fall upon practical men, and which must +depend greatly upon the circumstances of the locality. + + + + +THE IDLE EARTH + + +The bare fallows of a factory are of short duration, and occur at +lengthened intervals. There are the Saturday afternoons--four or +five hours' shorter time; there are the Sundays--fifty-two in +number; a day or two at Christmas, at Midsummer, at Easter. +Fifty-two Sundays, plus fifty-two half-days on Saturdays; eight days +more for _bonâ-fide_ holidays--in all, eighty-six days on which no +labour is done. This is as near as may be just one quarter of the +year spent in idleness. But how fallacious is such a calculation! +for overtime and night-work make up far more than this deficient +quarter; and therefore it may safely be said that man works the +whole year through, and has no bare fallow. But earth--idle +earth--on which man dwells, has a much easier time of it. It takes +nearly a third of the year out in downright leisure, doing nothing +but inchoating; a slow process indeed, and one which all the +agricultural army have of late tried to hasten, with very +indifferent success. Winter seed sown in the fall of the year does +not come to anything till the spring; spring seed is not reaped till +the autumn is at hand. But it will be argued that this land is not +idle, for during those months the seed is slowly growing--absorbing +its constituent parts from the atmosphere, the earth, the water; +going through astonishing metamorphoses; outdoing the most wonderful +laboratory experiments with its untaught, instinctive chemistry. All +true enough; and hitherto it has been assumed that the ultimate +product of these idle months is sufficient to repay the idleness; +that in the _coup_ of the week of reaping there is a dividend +recompensing the long, long days of development. Is it really so? +This is not altogether a question which a practical man used to City +formulas of profit and loss might ask. It is a question to which, +even at this hour, farmers themselves--most unpractical of men--are +requiring an answer. There is a cry arising throughout the country +that farms do not pay; that a man with a moderate 400 acres and a +moderate £1,000 of his own, with borrowed money added, cannot get a +reasonable remuneration from those acres. These say they would +sooner be hotel-keepers, tailors, grocers--anything but farmers. +These are men who have tried the task of subduing the stubborn +earth, which is no longer bountiful to her children. Much reason +exists in this cry, which is heard at the market ordinary, in the +lobby, at the club meetings--wherever agriculturists congregate, and +which will soon force itself out upon the public. It is like this. +Rents have risen. Five shillings per acre makes an enormous +difference, though nominally only an additional £100 on 400 acres. +But as in agricultural profits one must not reckon more than 8 per +cent., this 5s. per acre represents nearly another £1,000 which +must be invested in the business, and which must be made to return +interest to pay the additional rent. If that cannot be done, then it +represents a dead £100 per annum taken out of the agriculturist's +pocket. + +Then--labour, the great agricultural _crux_. If the occupier pays +3s. per week more to seven men, that adds more than another £50 per +annum to his outgoings, to meet which you must somehow make your +acres represent another £500. Turnpikes fall in, and the roads are +repaired at the ratepayers' cost. Compulsory education--for it is +compulsory in reality, since it compels voluntary schools to be +built--comes next, and as generally the village committee mull +matters, and have to add a wing, and rebuild, and so forth, till +they get in debt, there grows up a rate which is a serious matter, +not by itself, but added to other things. Just as in great factories +they keep accounts in decimals because of the vast multitude of +little expenses which are in the aggregate serious--each decimal is +equivalent to a rusty nail or so--here on our farm threepence or +fourpence in the pound added to threepence or sixpence ditto for +voluntary Church-rate, puts an appreciable burden on the man's back. +The tightness, however, does not end here; the belt is squeezed +closer than this. No man had such long credit as the yeoman of yore +(thirty years ago is 'of yore' in our century). Butcher and baker, +grocer, tailor, draper, all gave him unlimited credit as to _time_. +As a rule, they got paid in the end; for a farmer is a fixture, and +does not have an address for his letters at one place and live in +another. But modern trade manners are different. The trader is +himself pressed. Competition galls his heel. He has to press upon +his customers, and in place of bills sent in for payment once a +year, and actual cash transfer in three, we have bills punctually +every quarter, and due notice of county court if cheques are not +sent at the half-year. So that the agriculturist wants more ready +cash; and as his returns come but once a year, he does not quite see +the fairness of having to swell other men's returns four times in +the same period. Still a step further, and a few words will suffice +to describe the increased cost of all the materials supplied by +these tradesmen. Take coals, for instance. This is a fact so patent +that it stares the world in the face. A farmer, too, nowadays has a +natural desire to live as other people in his station of life do. He +cannot reconcile himself to rafty bacon, cheese, radishes, +turnip-tops, homespun cloth, smock frocks. He cannot see why his +girls should milk the cows or wheel out manure from the yards any +more than the daughters of tradesmen; neither that his sons should +say 'Ay' and 'Noa,' and exhibit a total disregard of grammar and +ignorance of all social customs. The piano, he thinks, is quite as +much in its place in his cool parlour as in the stuffy so-called +drawing-room at his grocer's in the petty town hard by, where they +are so particular to distinguish the social ranks of 'professional +tradesmen' from common tradesmen. Here in all this, even supposing +it kept down to economical limits, there exists a considerable +margin of expenditure greater than in our forefathers' time. True, +wool is dearer, meat dearer; but to balance that put the increased +cost of artificial manure and artificial food--two things no farmer +formerly bought--and do not forget that the seasons rule all things, +and are quite as capricious as ever, and when there is a bad season +the loss is much greater than it used to be, just as the foundering +of an ironclad costs the nation more than the loss of a frigate. + +Experience every day brings home more and more the fatal truth that +moderate farms do not pay, and there are even ominous whispers about +the 2,000 acres system. The agriculturist says that, work how he +may, he only gets 8 per cent. per annum; the tradesman, still more +the manufacturer, gets only 2 per cent. each time, but he turns his +money over twenty times a year, and so gets 40 per cent. per annum. +Eight per cent. is a large dividend on one transaction, but it is +very small for a whole year--a year, the one-thirtieth of a man's +whole earning period, if we take him to be in a business at +twenty-five, and to be in full work till fifty-five, a fair +allowance. Now, why is it that this cry arises that agriculture will +not pay? and why is it that the farmer only picks up 8 per cent.? +The answer is simple enough. It is because the earth is idle a third +of the year. So far as actual cash return is concerned, one might +say it was idle eleven out of the twelve months. But that is hardly +fair. Say a third of the year. + +The earth does not continue yielding a crop day by day as the +machines do in the manufactory. The nearest approach to the +manufactory is the dairy, whose cows send out so much milk per diem; +but the cows go dry for their calves. Out of the tall chimney shaft +there floats a taller column of dark smoke hour after hour; the vast +engines puff and snort and labour perhaps the whole twenty-four +hours through; the drums hum round, the shafts revolve perpetually, +and each revolution is a penny gained. It may be only steel-pen +making--pens, common pens, which one treats as of no value and +wastes by dozens; but the iron-man thumps them out hour after hour, +and the thin stream of daily profit swells into a noble river of +gold at the end of the year. Even the pill people are fortunate in +this: it is said that every second a person dies in this huge world +of ours. Certain it is that every second somebody takes a pill; and +so the millions of globules disappear, and so the profit is nearer 8 +per cent. per hour than 8 per cent. per annum. But this idle earth +takes a third of the year to mature its one single crop of pills; +and so the agriculturist with his slow returns cannot compete with +the quick returns of the tradesman and manufacturer. If he cannot +compete, he cannot long exist; such is the modern law of business. +As an illustration, take one large meadow on a dairy farm; trace its +history for one year, and see what an idle workshop this meadow is. +Call it twenty acres of first-class land at £2 15s. per acre, or £55 +per annum. Remember that twenty acres is a large piece on which +some millions multiplied by millions of cubic feet of air play on a +month, and on which an incalculable amount of force in the shape of +sunlight is poured down in the summer. January sees this plot of a +dull, dirty green, unless hidden by snow; the dirty green is a +short, juiceless herbage. The ground is as hard as a brick with the +frost. We will not stay now to criticize the plan of carting out +manure at this period, or dwell on the great useless furrows. Look +carefully round the horizon of the twenty acres, and there is not an +animal in sight, not a single machine for making money, not a penny +being turned. The cows are all in the stalls. February comes, March +passes; the herbage grows slowly; but still no machines are +introduced, no pennies roll out at the gateways. The farmer may lean +on the gate and gaze over an empty workshop, twenty acres big, with +his hands in his pockets, except when he pulls out his purse to pay +the hedge-cutters who are clearing out the ditches, the women who +have been stone-picking, and the carters who took out the manure, +half of which stains the drains, while the volatile part mixes with +the atmosphere. This is highly profitable and gratifying. The man +walks home, hears his daughter playing the piano, picks up the +paper, sees himself described as a brutal tyrant to the labourer, +and ten minutes afterwards in walks the collector of the voluntary +rate for the village school, which educates the labourers' children. +April arrives; grass grows rapidly. May comes; grass is now long. +But still not one farthing has been made out of that twenty acres. +Five months have passed, and all this time the shafts in the +manufactories have been turning, and the quick coppers accumulating. +Now it is June, and the mower goes to work; then the haymakers, and +in a fortnight if the weather be good, a month if it be bad, the hay +is ricked. Say it cost £1 per acre to make the hay and rick +it--_i.e._, £20--and by this time half the rent is due, or £27 10s. += total expenditure (without any profit as yet), £47 10s., exclusive +of stone-picking, ditch-cleaning, value of manure, etc. This by the +way. The five months' idleness is the point at present. June is now +gone. If the weather be showery the sharp-edged grass may spring up +in a fortnight to a respectable height; but if it be a dry +summer--and if it is not a dry summer the increased cost of +haymaking runs away with profit--then it may be fully a month before +there is anything worth biting. Say at the end of July (one more +idle month) twenty cows are turned in, and three horses. One cannot +estimate how long they may take to eat up the short grass, but +certain it is that the beginning of November will see that field +empty of cattle again; and fortunate indeed the agriculturist who +long before that has not had to 'fodder' (feed with hay) at least +once a day. Here, then, are five idle months in spring, one in +summer, two in winter; total, eight idle months. But, not to stretch +the case, let us allow that during a part of that time, though the +meadow is idle, its produce--the hay--is being eaten and converted +into milk, cheese and butter, or meat, which is quite correct; but, +even making this allowance, it may safely be said that the meadow is +absolutely idle for one-third of the year, or four months. That is +looking at the matter in a mere pounds, shillings, and pence light. +Now look at it in a broader, more national view. Does it not seem a +very serious matter that so large a piece of land should remain idle +for that length of time? It is a reproach to science that no method +of utilizing the meadow during that eight months has been +discovered. To go further, it is very hard to require of the +agriculturist that he should keep pace with a world whose maxims day +by day tend to centralize and concentrate themselves into the one +canon, Time is Money, when he cannot by any ingenuity get his +machinery to revolve more than once a year. In the old days the +farmer belonged to a distinct class, a very isolated and independent +class, little affected by the progress or retrogression of any other +class, and not at all by those waves of social change which sweep +over Europe. Now the farmer is in the same position as other +producers: the fall or rise of prices, the competition of foreign +lands, the waves of panic or monetary tightness, all tell upon him +quite as much as on the tradesman. So that the cry is gradually +rising that the idle earth will not pay. + +On arable land it is perhaps even more striking. Take a wheat crop, +for instance. Without going into the cost and delay of the three +years of preparation under various courses for the crop, take the +field just before the wheat year begins. There it lies in November, +a vast brown patch, with a few rooks here and there hopping from one +great lump to another; but there is nothing on it--no machine +turning out materials to be again turned into money. On the +contrary, it is very probable that the agriculturist may be sowing +money on it, scarifying it with steam ploughing-engines, tearing up +the earth to a great depth in order that the air may penetrate and +the frost disintegrate the strong, hard lumps. He may have commenced +this expensive process as far back as the end of August, for it is +becoming more and more the custom to plough up directly after the +crop is removed. All November, December, January, and not a penny +from this broad patch, which may be of any size from fifteen to +ninety acres, lying perfectly idle. Sometimes, indeed, persons who +wish to save manure will grow mustard on it and plough it in, the +profit of which process is extremely dubious. At the latter end of +February or beginning of March, just as the season is early or late, +dry or wet, in goes the seed--another considerable expense. Then +April, May, June, July are all absorbed in the slow process of +growth--a necessary process, of course, but still terribly slow, and +not a penny of ready-money coming in. If the seed was sown in +October, as is usual on some soils, the effect is the same--the crop +does not arrive till next year's summer sun shines. In August the +reaper goes to work, but even then the corn has to be threshed and +sent to market before there is any return. Here is a whole year +spent in elaborating one single crop, which may, after all, be very +unprofitable if it is a good wheat year, and the very wheat over +which such time and trouble have been expended may be used to fat +beasts, or even to feed pigs. All this, however, and the great +expense of preparation, though serious matters enough in themselves, +are beside our immediate object. The length of time the land is +useless is the point. Making every possible allowance, it is not +less than one-third of the year--four months out of the twelve. For +all practical--_i.e._, monetary--purposes it is longer than that. No +wonder that agriculturists aware of this fact are so anxious to get +as much as possible out of their one crop--to make the one +revolution of their machinery turn them out as much money as +possible. If their workshop must be enforcedly idle for so long, +they desire that when in work there shall be full blast and double +tides. Let the one crop be as heavy as it can. Hence the agitation +for compensatory clauses, enabling the tenant to safely invest all +the capital he can procure in the soil. How else is he to meet the +increased cost of labour, of rent, of education, of domestic +materials; how else maintain his fair position in society? The +demand is reasonable enough; the one serious drawback is the +possibility that, even with this assistance, the idle earth will +refuse to move any faster. + +We have had now the experience of many sewage-farms where the +culture is extremely 'high.' It has been found that these farms +answer admirably where the land is poor--say, sandy and porous--but +on fairly good soil the advantage is dubious, and almost limited to +growing a succession of rye-grass crops. After a season or two of +sewage soaking the soil becomes so soft that in the winter months it +is unapproachable. Neither carts nor any implements can be drawn +over it; and then in the spring the utmost care has to be exercised +to keep the liquid from touching the young plants, or they wither up +and die. Sewage on grass lands produces the most wonderful results +for two or three years, but after that the herbage comes so thick +and rank and 'strong' that cattle will not touch it; the landlord +begins to grumble, and complains that the land, which was to have +been improved, has been spoilt for a long time to come. Neither is +it certain that the employment of capital in other ways will lead to +a continuous increase of profit. There are examples before our eyes +where capital has been unsparingly employed, and upon very large +areas of land, with most disappointing results. In one such instance +five or six farms were thrown into one; straw, and manure, and every +aid lavishly used, till a fabulous number of sheep and other stock +was kept; but the experiment failed. Many of the farms were again +made separate holdings, and grass laid down in the place of glowing +cornfields. Then there is another instance, where a gentleman of +large means and a cultivated and business mind, called in the +assistance of the deep plough, and by dint of sheer subsoil +ploughing grew corn profitably several years in succession. But +after a while he began to pause, and to turn his attention to stock +and other aids. It is not for one moment contended that the use of +artificial manure, of the deep plough, of artificial food, and other +improvements will not increase the yield, and so the profit of the +agriculturist. It is obvious that they do so. The question is, Will +they do so to an extent sufficient to repay the outlay? And, +further, will they do so sufficiently to enable the agriculturist to +meet the ever-increasing weight which presses on him? It would seem +open to doubt. One thing appears to have been left quite out of +sight by those gentlemen who are so enthusiastic about compensation +for unexhausted improvements, and that is, if the landlord is to be +bound down so rigidly, and if the tenant really is going to make so +large a profit, most assuredly the rents will rise very +considerably. How then? Neither the sewage system, nor the deep +plough, nor the artificial manure has, as yet, succeeded in +overcoming the _vis inertiæ_ of the idle earth. They cause an +increase in the yield of the one revolution of the agriculturist +machine per annum; but they do not cause the machine to revolve +twice or three times. Without a decrease in the length of this +enforced idleness any very great increase of profit does not seem +possible. What would any manufacturer think of a business in which +he was compelled to let his engines rest for a third of the year? +Would he be eager to sink his capital in such an enterprise? + +The practical man will, of course, exclaim that all this is very +true, but Nature is Nature, and must have its way, and it is useless +to expect more than one crop per annum, and any talk of three or +four crops is perfectly visionary. 'Visionary,' by the way, is a +very favourite word with so-called practical men. But the stern +logic of figures, of pounds, shillings, and pence, proves that the +present condition of affairs cannot last much longer, and they are +the true 'visionaries' who imagine that it can. This enormous loss +of time, this idleness, must be obviated somehow. It is a question +whether the millions of money at present sunk in agriculture are not +a dead loss to the country; whether they could not be far more +profitably employed in developing manufacturing industries, or in +utilizing for home consumption the enormous resources of Southern +America and Australasia; whether we should not get more to eat, and +cheaper, if such was the case. Such a low rate of interest as is now +obtained in agriculture--and an interest by no means secure either, +for a bad season may at any time reduce it, and even a too good +season--such a state of things is a loss, if not a curse. It is +questionable whether the million or so of labourers representing a +potential amount of force almost incalculable, and the thousands of +young farmers throbbing with health and vigour, eager _to do_, would +not return a far larger amount of good to the world and to +themselves if, instead of waiting for the idle earth at home to +bring forth, they were transported bodily to the broad savannahs and +prairies, and were sending to the mother-country innumerable +shiploads of meat and corn--unless, indeed, we can discover some +method by which our idle earth shall be made to labour more +frequently. This million or so of labourers and these thousands of +young, powerfully made farmers literally do nothing at all for a +third the year but wait, wait for the idle earth. The of strength, +the will, the vigour latent in them is wasted. They do not enjoy +this waiting by any means. The young agriculturist chafes under the +delay, and is eager _to do_. They can hunt and course hares, 'tis +true, but that is feeble excitement indeed, and feminine in +comparison with the serious work which brings in money. + +The idleness of arable and pasture land is as nothing compared to +the idleness of the wide, rolling downs. These downs are of immense +extent, and stretch through the very heart of the country. They +maintain sheep, but in how small a proportion to the acreage! In the +spring and summer the short herbage is cropped by the sheep; but it +is short, and it requires a large tract to keep a moderate flock. In +the winter the down is left to the hares and fieldfares. It has just +as long a period of absolute idleness as the arable and pasture +land, and when in work the yield is so very, very small. + +After all, the very deepest ploughing is but scratching the surface. +The earth at five feet beneath the level has not been disturbed for +countless centuries. Nor would it pay to turn up this subsoil over +large areas, for it is nothing but clay, as many a man has found to +his cost who, in the hope of a heavier crop, has dug up his garden +half a spade deeper than usual. But when the soil really is good at +that depth, we cannot get at it so as to turn it to practical +account. The thin stratum of artificial manure which is sown is no +more in comparison than a single shower after a drought of months; +yet to sow too much would destroy the effect. No blame, then, falls +upon the agriculturist, who is only too anxious to get a larger +produce. It is useless charging him with incompetency. What +countless experiments have been tried to increase the crop: to see +if some new system cannot be introduced! With all its progress, how +little real advance has agriculture made! All because of the +stubborn, idle earth. Will not science some day come to our aid, and +show how two crops or three may be grown in our short summers; or +how we may even overcome the chill hand of winter? Science has got +as far as this: it recognizes the enormous latent forces surrounding +us--electricity, magnetism; some day, perhaps, it may be able to +utilize them. It recognizes the truly overwhelming amount of force +which the sun of summer pours down upon our fields, and of which we +really make no use. To recognize the existence of a power is the +first step towards employing it. Till it was granted that there was +a power in steam the locomotive was impossible. + +It would be easy to swell this notice of idle earth by bringing in +all the waste lands, now doing nothing--the parks, deer forests, and +so on. But that is not to the purpose. If the wastes were reclaimed +and the parks ploughed up, that would in nowise solve the problem +how to make the cultivated earth more busy. It is no use for a man +who has a garden to lean on his spade, look over his boundary wall, +and say, 'Ah, if neighbour Brown would but dig up his broad green +paths how many more potatoes he would grow!' That would not increase +the produce of the critic's garden by one single cabbage. Certainly +it is most desirable that all lands capable of yielding crops should +be reclaimed, but one great subject for the agriculturist to study +is, how to shorten the period of idleness in his already cultivated +plots. At present the earth is so very idle. + + + + +AFTER THE COUNTY FRANCHISE + + +The money-lender is the man I most fear to see in the villages after +the extension of the county franchise--the money-lender both in his +private and public capacity, the man who has already taken a grasp +of most little towns that have obtained incorporation in some form. +Like Shylock he demands what is in his bond: he demands his +interest, and that means a pull at every man's purse--every man, +rich or poor--who lives within the boundary. Borrowing is almost the +ruin of many such little towns; rates rise nearly as high as in +cities, and people strive all they can to live anywhere outside the +limit. Borrowing is becoming one of the curses of modern life, and a +sorrowful day it will be when the first village takes to it. The +name changes--now it is a local board, now it is commissioners, +sometimes a town council: the practice remains the same. These +authorities exist but for one purpose--to borrow money, and as any +stick will do to beat a dog with, so any pretence will do to exact +the uttermost farthing from the inhabitants. Borrowing boards they +are, one and all, and nothing else, from whom no one obtains benefit +except the solicitor, the surveyor, the lucky architect, and those +who secure a despicable living in the rear of the county court. +Nothing could better illustrate the strange supineness of the +majority of people than the way in which they pay, pay, pay, and +submit to every species of extortion at the hands of these incapable +blunderers, without so much as a protest. The system has already +penetrated into the smallest of the county towns which groan under +the incubus; let us hope, let us labour, that it may not continue +its course and enter the villages. + +It may reasonably be supposed that when once the extension of the +franchise becomes an established fact, some kind of local +government will soon follow. At present country districts are +either without any local government at all--I mean practically, +not theoretically--or else they are ruled without the least shadow +of real representation. When men are admitted to vote and come to +be enlightened as to the full meaning and force of such rights, it +is probable that they will shortly demand the power to arrange +their own affairs. They will have something to say as to the +administration of the poor-law, over which at present they do not +possess the slightest control, and they are not at all unlikely to +set up a species of self-government in every separate village. I +think, in short, that the parish may become the unit in the future +to the disintegration of the artificial divisions drawn to +facilitate the poor-law. Such divisions, wherein many parishes of +the most diverse description and far apart are thrown together +anyhow as the gardener pitches weeds into his basket, have done +serious harm in the past. They have injured the sense of personal +responsibility, they have created a bureaucracy absolutely without +feeling, and they have tended to shift great questions out of +sight. The shifting of things out of sight--round the corner--is a +vile method of dealing with them. Send your wretched poor miles +away into a sort of alien workhouse, and then congratulate +yourself that you have tided over the difficulty! But the +difficulty has not been got over. + +A man who can vote, and who is told--as he certainly will be +told--that he bears a part in directing the great affairs of his +nation, will ask himself why he should not be capable of managing +the little affairs of his own neighbourhood. When he has asked +himself this question, it will be the first step towards the +downfall of the inhuman poor-law. He will go further and say, 'Why +should I not settle these things at home? Why should I not walk up +to the village from my house in the country lane, and there and then +arrange the business which concerns me? Why should I any longer +permit it to be done over my head and without my consent by a body +of persons in whom I have no confidence, for they do not represent +me--they represent property?' + +In his own village the voter will observe the school--his own +village then is worthy to possess its own school; possibly he may +even remotely have some trifling share in the control of the school +if there is a board. If that great interest, the children of the +parish, can be administered at home, why not the other and much less +important interests? Here may be traced a series of reflections, and +a succession of steps by which ultimately the whole system of boards +of guardians with their attendant powers, as the rural sanitary +authority and so forth, may ultimately be swept away. Government +will come again to the village. + +Then arises the money-lender, and no time should be lost by those +who have the good and the genuine liberty of the countryside at +heart in labouring to prevent his entry into the village. Whatsoever +constitution the village obtains in future, let us strive to +strictly limit the borrowing powers of its council. No borrowing +powers at all would be best--government without loans would be +almost ideal--if that cannot be accomplished, then at least lay down +a stringent regulation putting a firm and impassable limit. Were +every one of my way of thinking, government without loans would be +imperative. It would be done if it had to be done. Rugged discomfort +is preferable to borrowing. + +I dread, in a word, lest the follies perpetrated in towns should get +into the villages and hamlets, and want to say a word betimes of +warning. Imagine a new piece of roadway required, then to get the +money let a penny be added to the rates, and the amount produced +laid by at interest year after year, till the sum be made up. Better +wait a few years and walk half a mile round than borrow the five or +six hundred pounds, and have to pay that back and all the interest +on it. Shift somehow, do not borrow. + +In the discussions upon the agricultural franchise it has been +generally assumed that the changes it portends will be shown in +momentous State affairs and questions of principle. But perhaps it +will be rather in local and home concerns that the alterations will +be most apparent. The agricultural labourer voters--and the numerous +semi-agricultural voters, not labourers--are more than likely to +look at their own parish as well as at the policy of the Foreign +Office. Gradually the parish--that is, the village--must become the +centre to men who feel at last that they are their own masters. +Under some form or other they will take the parish into their own +hands, and insist upon their business being managed at home. Some +shape of village council must come presently into existence. + +Shrewd people are certain to appear upon the scene, pointing out to +the cottager that if he desires to rule himself in his own village, +he must insist upon one most important point. This is the exclusion +of property representation. Instead of property having an +overwhelming share, as now, in the direction of affairs, the owner +of the largest property must not weigh any heavier in the village +council than the wayside cottager. If farmer or landowner sit there +he must have one vote only, the same as any other member. The +council, if it is to be independent, must represent men and not +land in the shape of landowners, or money in the shape of +tenant-farmers. Shrewd people will have no difficulty in +explaining the meaning of this to the village voters, because they +can quote so many familiar instances. There is the Education Act in +part defeated by the combination of property, landowners and +farmers paying to escape a school-board--a plan temporarily +advantageous to them, but of doubtful benefit, possibly injurious, +to the parish at large. Leaving that question alone, the fact is +patent that the cottager has no share in the government of his +school, because land and money have combined. It may be governed +very well; still it is not _his_ government, and will serve to +illustrate the meaning. There is the board of guardians, nominally +elected, really selected, and almost self-appointed. The board of +guardians is land and money simply, and in no way whatever +represents the people. A favourite principle continually enunciated +at the present day is that the persons chiefly concerned should +have the management. But the lower classes who are chiefly +concerned with poor relief, as a matter of fact, have not the +slightest control over that management. Besides the guardians, +there is still an upper row, and here the rulers are not even +invested with the semblance of representation, for magistrates are +not elected, and they are guardians by virtue of their being +magistrates. The machinery is thus complete for the defeat of +representation and for the despotic control of those who, being +principally concerned, ought by all rule and analogy to have the +main share of the management. We have seen working men's +representatives sit in the House of Commons; did anyone ever see a +cottage labourer sit as administrator at the board before which the +wretched poor of his own neighbourhood appear for relief? + +But it may be asked, Is the village council, then, composed of small +proprietors, to sit down and vote away the farmer's or landowner's +money without farmer or landowner having so much as a voice in the +matter? Certainly not. The idea of village self-government supposes +a distinct and separate existence, as it were; the village apart +from the farmer or landowner, and the latter apart from the village. +At present the money drawn in rates from farmer or landowner is +chiefly expended on poor-law purposes. But, as will presently +appear, village self-government proposes the entire abolition of the +poor-law system, and with it the rates which support it, or at least +the heaviest part of them. Therefore, as this money would not be +concerned, they could receive no injury, even if they did not sit at +the village council at all. + +Imagine the village, figuratively speaking, surrounded by a high +wall like a girdle, as towns were in ancient times, and so cut off +altogether from the large properties surrounding it--on the one hand +the village supporting and governing itself, and on the other the +large properties equally independent. + +The probable result would be a considerable reduction in local +burdens on land. A self-supporting and self-governing moral +population is the first step towards this relief to land so very +desirable in the interest of agriculture. + +In practice there must remain certain more or less imperial +questions, as lines of through road, police, etc., some of which are +already managed by the county authority. As these matters affect the +farmer and landowner even more than the cottager, clearly they must +expect to contribute to the cost, and can rightly claim a share in +the management. + +Having advanced so far as a village council, and arrived at the +stage of managing their own affairs, having, in fact, emerged from +pupilage, next comes a question for the council. We now govern our +village ourselves; why should we not possess our village? Why should +we not live in our own houses? Why should we not have a little share +in the land, as much, at least, as we can pay for? At this moment +the village, let us say, consists of a hundred cottages, and perhaps +there are another hundred scattered about the parish. Of these +three-fourths belong to two or three large landowners, and those who +reside in them, however protected by enactment, can never have a +sense of complete independence. We should own these cottages, so +that the inhabitants might practically pay rent to themselves. We +must purchase them, a few at a time; the residents can repurchase +from us and so become freeholders. For a purchaser there must be a +seller, and here one of the questions of the future appears: Can an +owner of this kind of property be permitted to refuse to sell? Must +he be compelled to sell? + +It is clear that if the village voter thoroughly addresses himself +to his home affairs there is room for some remarkable incidents. +There is reason now, is there not, to dread the appearance of the +money-lender? + +About this illustrative parish there lie many hundred acres of good +land all belonging to one man, while we, the said village council, +do not possess a rood apiece, and our constituents not a square +yard. Rightfully we ought to have a share, yet we do not agitate for +confiscation. Shall we then say that every owner of land should be +obliged to sell a certain fixed percentage--a very small percentage +would suffice--upon proffer of a reasonable amount, the proffer +being made by those who propose to personally settle on it? Of one +thousand acres suppose ten or twenty liable to forcible purchase at +a given and moderate price. After all it is not a much more +overbearing thing than the taking by railways of land in almost any +direction they please, and not nearly so tyrannous, so stupidly +tyrannous, as some of the acts of folly committed by local boards in +towns. Not long since the newspapers reported a case where a local +authority actually ran a main sewer across a gentleman's park, and +ventilated it at regular intervals, completely destroying the value +of an historic mansion, and utterly ruining a beautiful domain. This +was fouling their own nest with a vengeance. They should have +cherished that park as one of their chiefest glories, their proudest +possession. Parks and woods are daily becoming of almost priceless +value to the nation; nothing could be so mad as to destroy these +last homes of nature. Just conceive the inordinate folly of marking +such a property with sewer ventilators. This is a hundred times more +despotic than a proposal that say two per cent. of land should be +forcibly purchasable for actual settlement. Even five per cent. +would not make an appreciable difference to an estate, though every +fraction of the five per cent. were taken up. + +For such proposals to have any effect, the transfer of real property +must be greatly simplified and cheapened. From time to time, +whenever a discussion occurs upon this subject, and there are signs +that the glacier-like movements of government will be hastened by +public stir, up rises some great lawyer and explains to the world +that really nothing could be simpler or cheaper than such transfer. +All that can be wished in that direction has been accomplished +already; there is not the slightest ground for agitation; every +obstruction has been removed, and the machinery is now perfect. He +quotes a long list of Acts to demonstrate the progress that has been +made, and so winds up a very effective speech. Facts, however, are +not in accordance with these gracious words. Here is an instance. A +cottage in a village was recently sold for seventy pounds; the +costs, legal expenses, parchments, all the antiquated formalities +absorbed _thirty-two pounds_, only three pounds less than half the +value of the little property. Could anything be more obviously wrong +than such a system. + +The difficulties in the way of simplification are created +difficulties, entirely artificial, owing their existence to legal +ingenuity. How often has the question been asked and never answered: +Why should there be any more expense in transferring the ownership +of an acre of land than of £100 stock? + +The village council coming into contact with this matter is likely +to agitate continuously for its rectification, since otherwise its +movements will be seriously hampered. If they succeed in obtaining +the abolition of these semi-feudal survivals, they will have +conferred a substantial benefit upon the community. County franchise +would be worth the granting merely to secure this. + +Let us take the case for a moment of a labourer at this day and +consider his position. What has he before him? He has a +hand-to-mouth, nomad existence, ending in the inevitable frozen +misery of the workhouse. Men with votes and political power are +hardly likely to endure this for many more years, and it is much to +be hoped that they will not endure it. A labourer may be never so +hard-working, so careful, so sober, and yet let his efforts be what +they may, his old age finds him helpless. I am sure there is no +class of men among whom may be found so many industrious, plodding, +sober folk, economical to the verge of starvation. Their +straightforward lives are thrown away. Their sons and daughters, +warned by example, go to the cities, and there lose the virtues that +rendered their forefathers so admirable even in their wretchedness. +It will indeed be a blessing if, as I hope, the outcome of the +franchise is the foundation of solid inducements to the countryman +to stay in the country. I use the phrase countryman purposely, +intending it to include small farmers and small farmers' sons; the +latter are likewise driven away from the land year by year as much +as the young labourers, and are as serious a loss to it. Did the +possibility exist of purchasing a cottage and a plot of ground of +moderate size, it is more than probable that the labourer's son +would remain in the village, or return to it, and his daughter would +come back to the village to be married. We hear how the poor Italian +or the poor Swiss leaves his native country for our harder climate, +how he works and saves, and by-and-by returns to his village and +purchases some corner of earth. This seems a legitimate and worthy +object. We do not hear of our own sturdy labourers returning to +their village with a pocketful of money and purchasing a plot of +ground or a cottage. They do not attempt it, because they know that +under present conditions it is nearly impossible. There is no land +for them to buy. Why not, when the country is nothing but land? +Because the owner of ten thousand acres is by no means obliged to +part with the minutest fragment of it. If by chance a stray portion +be somewhere for sale, the expenses, the costs, the parchments, the +antiquated formalities, the semi-feudal routine delay and possibly +prevent transfer altogether. If land were accessible, and the cost +of transferring cottage property reduced to reasonable proportions, +the labourer would have the soundest of all inducements to practise +self-denial in his youth. Cities might attract him temporarily for +the advantage of higher wages, but he would put the excess by and +ultimately bring it home. Even the married cottager with a family +would try his hardest to save a little with such a hope before him. + +The existing circumstances deny hope altogether. Neither land nor +cottages are to be had, there are no sellers, and the cost of +transfer is prohibitive; men are shifted on, they have no security +of tenure, they are passed on from farm to farm and can settle +nowhere. The competition for a house in some districts is keen to +the last degree; it seems as if there were eager crowds waiting for +homes. Recently while roaming on the Sussex hills I met an ancient +shepherd whose hair was white as snow, though he stood upright +enough. I inquired the names of the hills there, and he replied that +he did not know; he was a stranger, he had only been moved there +lately. How strangely changed are things when a grey-headed shepherd +does not know the names of his hills! At a time of life when he +ought to have been comfortably settled he had had to shift. + +Sentiment is more stubborn than fact. People will face the sternest +facts, dire facts, stubborn facts, and stay on in spite of all; but +once let sentiment alter and away they troop. So I think that some +part of the distaste for farming visible about us is due to change +of sentiment--to feeling repelled--as well as to unfruitful years. +Men have stood out against weary weather in all ages of agriculture, +but lately they have felt hurt and repelled, the sentiment of +attachment to home has been rudely torn up, and so now the current +sets against farming, though farms are often offered on advantageous +terms. In the same way, besides the stubborn facts that drive the +labourer from the village and prevent his return to settle, there is +a yet more stubborn sentiment repelling him. Made a man of by +education--not only of books, but the unconscious education of +progressive times--the labourer and his son and daughter have +thoughts of independence. To be humbly subservient to the will of +those above them, to be docilely obedient, not only to the employer, +but to all in some sort of authority, is not attractive to them. +Plainly put, the rule of parson and squire, tenant and guardian, is +repellent to them in these days. They would rather go away. If they +do save money in cities, they do not care to return and settle under +the thumb of these their old masters. Besides more attractive facts, +the sentiment of independence must be called into existence before +the labourer, or, for the matter of that, the small farmer's son, +will willingly settle in the village. That sense of independence can +only arise when the village governs itself by its own council, +irrespective of parson, squire, tenant, or guardian. Towards that +end the power to vote is almost certain to drift slowly. + +Nothing can be conceived more harshly antagonistic to the feelings +of a naturally industrious race of men than the knowledge that as a +mass they are looked upon as prospective 'paupers.' I detest this +word so much that it is painful to me to write it; I put it between +inverted commas as a sort of protest, so that it may appear a hated +intruder, and not native to the text. The local government existing +at this day in country districts is practically based upon the +assumption that every labouring man will one day be a 'pauper,' will +one day come to the workhouse. By the workhouse and its board the +cottage is governed; the workhouse is the centre, the bureau, the +_hôtel de ville_. The venue of local government must be changed +before the labourer can feel independent, and it will be changed +doubtless as he becomes conscious of the new power he has acquired. +Shall the bitterness of the workhouse at last pass away? Let us hope +so let us be thankful indeed if the franchise leads to the downfall +of those cruel walls. Yet what is the cruelty of cold walls to the +cruelty of 'system'? A workhouse in the country is usually situated +as nearly as possible in the centre of the Union, it may be miles +from the outlying parishes. Thither the worn-out cottager is borne +away from the fields, his cronies, his little helps to old age such +as the corner where the sun shines, the friend who allows little +amenities, to dwindle and die. The workhouse bureau extends its +unfeeling hands into every detail of cottage life. No wonder the +labourer does not deny himself to save money in order to settle +where these things are done. A happy day it will be when the +workhouse door is shut and the building sold for materials. A +gentleman not long since wrote to me a vindication of his +workhouse--I cannot at the moment place my hand on the figures he +sent me, but I grant that they were conclusive from his point of +view; they were not extravagant, the administration appeared +correct. But this is not my point of view at all. Figures are not +humanity. The workhouse and the poor-law system are inhuman, +debasing, and injurious to the whole country, and the better they +are administered, the worse it really is, since it affords a +specious pretext for their continuance. What would be the use of a +captain assuring his passengers that the ship was well found, plenty +of coal in the bunkers, the engines oiled and working smoothly, when +they did not want to go to the port for which he was steering? An +exact dose of poison may be administered, but what comfort is it to +the victim to assure him that it was accurately measured to a minim? +What is the value of informing me that the 'paupers' are properly +looked after when I do not want any 'paupers'? + +But how manage without the poor-law system? There are several ways. +There is the insurance method: space will not permit of discussion +in this paper, but one fact which speaks volumes may be alluded to. +Two large societies exist in this country called the 'Oddfellows' +and the 'Foresters'; they number their members by the million; they +assist their members not only at home, but all over the world (which +is what no poor-law has ever done); they govern themselves by their +own laws, and they prosper exceedingly--an honour to the nation. +They have solved the difficulty for themselves. + +When the village governs itself and takes all matters into its own +hands, in time the sentiment of independence may grow up and men +begin to work and strive and save, that they may settle at home. It +would be a very noble thing indeed if the true English feeling for +home life should become the dominant passion of the country once +again. By home life I mean that which gathers about a house, +however small, standing in its own grounds. Something comes into +existence about such a house, an influence, a pervading feeling, +like some warm colour softening the whole, tinting the lichen on +the wall, even the very smoke-marks on the chimney. It is home, and +the men and women born there will never lose the tone it has given +them. Such homes are the strength of a land. The emigrant who +leaves us for the backwoods hopes to carve out a home for himself +there, and we consider that an ambition to be admired. I hope the +day will come when some at least of our people may be able to set +up homes for themselves in their own country. To-day, if they would +live, they must crowd into the city, often to dwell in the midst of +hideous squalor, or they must cross the ocean. They would rather +endure the squalor, rather say farewell for ever and sail for +America, than stay in the village where everyone is master, and +none of their class can be independent. The village must be its own +master before it becomes popular. County government may be +reformed with advantage, but that is not enough, because it must +necessarily be too far off. People in the country are scattered, +and each little centre is naturally only concerned with itself. A +government having its centre at the county town is too far away, +and is likely to bear too much resemblance to the boards of +guardians and present authorities, to be representative of land and +money rather than of men. Progress can only be made in each little +centre separately by means of village councils, genuinely +representative of the village folk, unswayed by mansion, vicarage, +or farm. Then by degrees we may hope to see the re-awakening of +English home-life in contradistinction to that unhappy restlessness +which drives so many to the cities. + +Men will then wake up and work with energy because they will have +hope. The slow, plodding manner of the labourer--the dull ways even +of the many industrious cottagers--these will disappear, giving +place to push and enterprise. Why does a lawyer work as no navvy +works? Why does a cabinet minister labour the year through as hard +as a miner? Because they have a mental object. So will the labourer +work when he has a mental object--to possess a home for himself. + +Whenever such homes become numerous and the new life of the country +begins to flow, pressure will soon be brought to bear for the +removal of the mediæval law which prevents the use of steam on +common roads. Modern as the law is, it is mediæval in its tendency +as much as a law would be for the restriction of steam on the +ocean. Suppose a statute compelling all ships to sail, or, if they +steamed, not to exceed four miles an hour! One of the greatest +drawbacks to agriculture is the cost and difficulty of transit; +wheat, flour, and other foods come from America at far less expense +in proportion than it takes to send a waggon-load to London. This +cost of transit in the United Kingdom will ultimately, one would +think, become the question of the day, concerning as it does every +individual. Agriculture on a large scale finds it a heavy drawback; +to agriculture on a small scale it is often prohibitory. A man may +cultivate his two-acre plot and produce vegetables and fruit, but if +he cannot get his produce to London (or some great city), the demand +for it is small, and the value low in proportion. As settlers +increase, as the village becomes its own master, and men pass part +at least of their time labouring on their own land, the difficulty +will be felt to be a very serious one. Transit they must have, and +steam alone can supply it. Engines and cars can be built to run on +common roads almost as easily as on rails, and as for danger it is +merely the interested outcry of those who deal in horses. There is +no danger. Fine smooth roads exist all over the country; they have +been kept up from coaching days as if in a prophetic spirit for +their future use by steam. Upon these roads engines and cars can +travel at a good fair pace, collecting produce, and either +delivering it to the through lines of rail, or passing it on from +road-train to road-train till it reaches the city. This is a very +important matter indeed, for in the future easier and quicker +transit will become imperative for agriculture. The impost of +extraordinary tithe--the whole system of tithe--again, is doomed +when once the country begins to live its new life. Freedom of +cultivation is ten times more needful to the small than to the large +proprietor. + +These changes closely examined lose their threatening aspect, so +much so that the marvel is they did not commence fifty years ago +instead of waiting till now, and even now to be only potential. What +is there in the present condition of agriculture to make farmer or +landowner anxious that the existing system of things should +continue? Surely nothing; surely every consideration points in +favour of moderate change. Those who quote the example of France, +and would argue that dissatisfaction must, as there, increase with +efforts to allay it, must know full well in their hearts that there +is no comparison whatever with France. The two peoples are so +entirely different. So little contents our race that the danger is +rather the other way, that they will be too easily satisfied. Such +changes as I have indicated, when examined closely, are really so +mild that in full operation they would scarcely make any difference +in the relation of the classes. Such village councils would be very +anxious for the existence of the farmer, and for his interests to be +respected, for the sufficient reason that they know the value of +wages. Perhaps they might even, under certain conditions, become +almost too willing partisans of the farmer for their best interests +to be served. I can imagine such conditions easily enough, and the +possibility of the three sections, labourer, farmer, and owner, +becoming more closely welded together than ever. There is far more +stolidity to be regretted than revolution to be feared. The danger +is lest the new voters should stolidify--crystallize--in tacit +league with existing conditions; not lest we should go hop, skip, +and jump over Niagara. + +A probable result of these changes is an increase in the value of +land: if thousands of people should ever really begin to desire it, +and to work and save for the object of buying it, analogy would +suppose a rise in value. Instead of a loss there would be a gain to +the landowner, and I think to the farmer, who would have a larger +supply of labour, and possibly a strong posse of supporters at the +poll in their men. Instead of division coalescence is more probable. +The greater his freedom, the greater his attachment to home, the +more settled the labourer, the firmer will become the position of +all three classes. The landowner has nothing whatever to fear for +his park, his mansion, his privacy, his shooting, or anything else. +What is taken will be paid for, and no more will be taken than +needful. Parks and woods are becoming of priceless value; we should +have to preserve a few landlords if only to have parks and woods. +Perfect rights of possession are not at all incompatible with +enjoyment by the people. There are domains to be found where people +wander at their will, and enjoy themselves as much as they please, +and yet the owner retains every right. It is true that there are +also numerous parks rigidly closed to the public, demonstrating the +folly of the proprietors--square miles of folly. The use of a little +compulsion to open them would not be at all deplorable. But it must +stop there and not encroach farther. Having obtained the use, be +careful not to destroy. + +The one great aim I have in all my thoughts is the acquisition of +public and the preservation of private liberty. Freedom is the most +valuable of all things, and is to be sought with all our powers of +mind and hand. Freedom does not mean injustice, but neither will it +put up with injustice. A singular misapprehension seems to be widely +spread in our time; it is that there are two great criminals, the +poor man or 'pauper' and the landlord. At opposite extremes of the +scale they are regarded as equally guilty. Every right--the right to +vote, the right to live in his native village, the right to be +buried decently--is taken from the unhappy poor man or 'pauper.' He +is a criminal. To own land is to be guilty of unpardonable sin, +nothing is so bad; as criminals are ordered to be searched and +everything taken from them, so everything is to be taken from the +landowner. The injustice to both is equally evident. Anyone by +chance of circumstances, uncontrollable, may be reduced to extreme +poverty; how cruel to punish the unfortunate with the loss of civil +rights! Anyone by good fortune and labour may acquire wealth, and +would naturally wish to purchase land: is he then guilty? In equity +both the poor and the rich should enjoy the same civil rights. + +Let the new voter then bear in mind above all things the value of +individual liberty, and not be too anxious to destroy the liberty of +others, an action that invariably recoils. Let him, having obtained +his freedom, beware how he surrenders it again either to local +influence in the shape of land or money, or to the outside orator +who may urge him on for his own ends. Efforts will be made no doubt +to use the new voter for the purposes of cliques and fanatics. He +can always test the value of their object by the question of wages +and food--'How will it affect my wages and food?'--and probably that +is the test he will apply. A little knot of resolute and +straightforward men should be formed in every village to see that +the natural outcome of the franchise is obtained. They can begin as +vigilance committees, and will ultimately reach to legal status as +councils. + + + + +THE WILTSHIRE LABOURER + + +Ten years have passed away,[4] and the Wiltshire labourers have +only moved in two things--education and discontent. I had the +pleasure then of pointing out in 'Fraser' that there were causes +at work promising a considerable advance in the labourers' +condition. I regret to say now that the advance, which in a +measure did take place, has been checkmated by other circumstances, +and there they remain much as I left them, except in book-learning +and mental restlessness. They possess certain permanent +improvements--unexhausted improvements in agricultural language--but +these, in some way or other, do not seem now so valuable as they +looked. Ten years since important steps were being taken for the +material benefit of the labouring class. Landowners had awakened to +the advantage of attaching the peasantry to the soil, and were +spending large sums of money building cottages. Everywhere cottages +were put up on sanitary principles, so that to-day few farms on +great estates are without homes for the men. This substantial +improvement remains, and cannot fade away. Much building, too, was +progressing about the farmsteads; the cattle-sheds were undergoing +renovation, and this to some degree concerned the labourer, who now +began to do more of his work under cover. The efforts of every +writer and speaker in the country had not been without effect, +and allotments, or large gardens, were added to most cottage +homes. The movement, however, was slow, and promised more than it +performed, so that there are still cottages which have not shared +in it. But, on the whole, an advance in this respect did occur, +and the aggregate acreage of gardens and allotments must be +very considerably larger now than formerly. These are solid +considerations to quote on the favourable side. I have been +thinking to see if I could find anything else. I cannot call to +mind anything tangible, but there is certainly more liberty, an air +of freedom and independence--something more of the 'do as I please' +feeling exhibited. Then the sum ends. At that time experiments were +being tried on an extended scale in the field: such as draining, +the enlargement of fields by removing hedges, the formation of +private roads, the buildings already mentioned, and new systems of +agriculture, so that there was a general stir and bustle which +meant not only better wages but wages for more persons. The latter +is of the utmost importance to the tenant-labourer, by which I mean +a man who is settled, because it keeps his sons at home. Common +experience all over the world has always shown that three or four +or more people can mess together, as in camps, at a cheaper rate +than they can live separately. If the father of the family can find +work for his boys within a reasonable distance of home, with their +united contributions they can furnish a very comfortable table, one +to which no one could object to sit down, and then still have a sum +over and above with which to purchase clothes, and even to indulge +personal fancies. Such a pleasant state of things requires that +work should be plentiful in the neighbourhood. Work at that time +was plentiful, and contented and even prosperous homes of this kind +could be found. Here is just where the difficulty arises. From a +variety of causes the work has subsided. The father of the +family--the settled man, the tenant-labourer--keeps on as of yore, +but the boys cannot get employment near home. They have to seek it +afar, one here, one yonder--all apart, and the wages each +separately receives do but just keep them in food among strangers. +It is this scarcity of work which in part seems to have +counterbalanced the improvements which promised so well. Instead of +the progress naturally to be expected you find the same insolvency, +the same wearisome monotony of existence in debt, the same hopeless +countenances and conversation. + + [4] Written in 1887. + +There has been a contraction of enterprise everywhere, and a +consequent diminution of employment. When a factory shuts its +doors, the fact is patent to all who pass. The hum of machinery is +stopped, and smoke no longer floats from the chimney; the building +itself, large and regular--a sort of emphasized plainness of +architecture--cannot be overlooked. It is evident to everyone that +work has ceased, and the least reflection shows that hundreds of +men, perhaps hundreds of families, are reduced from former +comparative prosperity. But when ten thousand acres of land fall +out of cultivation, the fact is scarcely noticed. There the land is +just the same, and perhaps some effort is still made to keep it from +becoming altogether foul, so that a glance detects no difference. +The village feels it, but the world does not see it. The farmer has +left, and the money he paid over as wages once a week is no longer +forthcoming. Each man's separate portion of that sum was not much in +comparison with the earnings of fortunate artisans, but it was +money. Ten, twelve, or as much as fifteen shillings a week made a +home; but just sufficient to purchase food and meet other +requirements, such as clothes; yet still a home. On the cessation of +the twelve shillings where is the labourer to find a substitute for +it? Our country is limited in extent, and it has long been settled +to its utmost capacity. Under present circumstances there is no room +anywhere for more than the existing labouring population. It is +questionable if a district could be found where, under these present +circumstances, room could be found for ten more farmers' men. Only +so many men can live as can be employed; in each district there are +only so many farmers; they cannot enlarge their territories; and +thus it is that every agricultural parish is full to its utmost. +Some places among meadows appear almost empty. No one is at work in +the fields as you pass; there are cattle swishing their tails in the +shadow of the elms, but not a single visible person; acres upon +acres of grass, and no human being. Towards the latter part of the +afternoon, if the visitor has patience to wait, there will be a +sound of shouting, which the cattle understand, and begin in their +slow way to obey by moving in its direction. Milking time has come, +and one or two men come out to fetch in the cows. That over, for the +rest of the evening and till milking time in the morning the meadows +will be vacant. Naturally it would be supposed that there is room +here for a great number of people. Whole crowds might migrate into +these grassy fields, put up shanties, and set to work. But set to +work at what? That is just the difficulty. Whole crowds could come +here and find plenty of room to walk about--and starve! Cattle +require but few to look after them. Milch cattle need most, but +grazing beasts practically no one, for one can look after so many. +Upon inquiry it would be found that this empty parish is really +quite full. Very likely there are empty cottages, and yet it is +quite full. A cottage is of no use unless the occupier can obtain +regular weekly wages. The farmers are already paying as many as they +can find work for, and not one extra hand is wanted; except, of +course, in the press of hay-harvest, but no one can settle on one +month's work out of twelve. When ten or fifteen thousand acres of +land fall out of cultivation, and farmers leave, what is to become +of the labouring families they kept? What has become of them? + +It is useless blinking the fact that what a man wants in our time is +good wages, constant wages, and a chance of increasing wages. +Labouring men more and more think simply of work and wages. They do +not want kindness--they want coin. In this they are not altogether +influenced by self-interest; they are driven rather than go of their +own movement. The world pushes hard on their heels, and they must go +on like the rest. A man cannot drift up into a corner of some green +lane, and stay in his cottage out of the tide of life, as was once +the case. The tide comes to him. He must find money somehow; the +parish will not keep him on out-relief if he has no work; the +rate-collector calls at his door; his children must go to school +decently clad with pennies in each little hand. He must have wages. +You may give him a better cottage, you may give him a large +allotment, you may treat him as an equal, and all is of no avail. +Circumstance--the push of the world--forces him to ask you for +wages. The farmer replies that he has only work for just so many and +no more. The land is full of people. Men reply in effect, 'We cannot +stay if a chance offers us to receive wages from any railway, +factory, or enterprise; if wages are offered to us in the United +States, there we must go.' If they heard that in a town fifty miles +distant twenty shillings could be had for labour, how many of the +hale men do you suppose would stay in the village? Off they would +rush to receive the twenty shillings per week, and the farmers might +have the land to themselves if they liked. Eighteen shillings to a +pound a week would draw off every man from agriculture, and leave +every village empty. If a vast industrial combination announced +regular wages of that amount for all who came, there would not be a +man left in the fields out of the two millions or more who now till +them. + +A plan to get more wages out of the land would indeed be a wonderful +success. As previously explained, it is not so much the amount paid +to one individual as the paying of many individuals that is so much +to be desired. Depression in agriculture has not materially +diminished the sum given to a particular labourer, but it has most +materially diminished the sum distributed among the numbers. One of +the remarkable features of agricultural difficulties is, indeed, +that the quotation of wages is nominally the same as in the past +years of plenty. But then not nearly so many receive them. The +father of the family gets his weekly money the same now as ten years +since. At that date his sons found work at home. At the present date +they have to move on. Some farmer is likely to exclaim, 'How can +this be, when I cannot get enough men when I want them?' Exactly so, +but the question is not when you want _them_, but when they want +you. You cannot employ them, as of old, all the year round, +therefore they migrate, or move to and fro, and at harvest time may +be the other side of the county. + +The general aspect of country life was changing fast enough before +the depression came. Since then it has continued to alter at an +increasing rate--a rate accelerated by education; for I think +education increases the struggle for more wages. As a man grows in +social stature so he feels the want of little things which it is +impossible to enumerate, but which in the aggregate represent a +considerable sum. Knowledge adds to a man's social stature, and he +immediately becomes desirous of innumerable trifles which, in +ancient days, would have been deemed luxuries, but which now seem +very commonplace. He wants somewhat more fashionable clothes, and I +use the word fashion in association with the ploughman purposely, +for he and his children do follow the fashion now in as far as they +can, once a week at least. He wants a newspaper--only a penny a +week, but a penny is a penny. He thinks of an excursion like the +artisan in towns. He wants his boots to shine as workmen's boots +shine in towns, and must buy blacking. Very likely you laugh at the +fancy of shoe-blacking having anything to do with the farm labourer +and agriculture. But I can assure you it means a good deal. He is no +longer satisfied with the grease his forefathers applied to their +boots; he wants them to shine and reflect. For that he must, too, +have lighter boots, not the heavy, old, clod-hopping watertights +made in the village. If he retains these for week-days, he likes a +shiny pair for Sundays. Here is the cost, then, of an additional +pair of shoes; this is one of the many trifles the want of which +accompanies civilization. Once now and then he writes a letter, and +must have pen, ink, and paper; only a pennyworth, but then a penny +is a coin when the income is twelve or fourteen shillings a week. +He likes a change of hats--a felt at least for Sunday. He is not +happy till he has a watch. Many more such little wants will occur to +anyone who will think about them, and they are the necessary +attendants upon an increase of social stature. To obtain them the +young man must have money--coins, shillings, and pence. His +thoughts, therefore, are bent on wages; he must get wages somewhere, +not merely to live, for bread, but for these social necessaries. +That he can live at home with his family, that in time he may get a +cottage of his own, that cottages are better now, large gardens +given, that the labourer is more independent--all these and twenty +other considerations--all these are nothing to him, because they are +not to be depended on. Wages paid weekly are his aim, and thus it is +that education increases the value of a weekly stipend, and +increases the struggle for it by sending so many more into the ranks +of competitors. I cannot see myself why, in the course of a little +time, we may not see the sons of ploughmen competing for clerkships, +situations in offices of various kinds, the numerous employments not +of a manual character. So good is the education they receive, that, +if only their personal manners happen to be pleasant, they have as +fair a chance of getting such work as others. + +Ceaseless effort to obtain wages causes a drifting about of the +agricultural population. The hamlets and villages, though they seem +so thinly inhabited, are really full, and every extra man and youth, +finding himself unable to get the weekly stipend at home, travels +away. Some go but a little distance, some across the width of the +country, a few emigrate, though not so many as would be expected. +Some float up and down continually, coming home to their native +parish for a few weeks, and then leaving it again. A restlessness +permeates the ranks; few but those with families will hire for the +year. They would rather do anything than that. Family men must do so +because they require cottages, and four out of six cottages belong +to the landowners and are part and parcel of the farms. The activity +in cottage building, to which reference has been made, as prevailing +ten or twelve years since, was solely on the part of the landowners. +There were no independent builders; I mean the cottages were not +built by the labouring class. They are let by farmers to those +labourers who engage for the year, and if they quit this employment +they quit their houses. Hence it is that even the labourers who have +families are not settled men in the full sense, but are liable to be +ordered on if they do not give satisfaction, or if cause of quarrel +arises. The only settled men--the only fixed population in villages +and hamlets at the present day--are that small proportion who +possess cottages of their own. This proportion varies, of course, +but it is always small. Of old times, when it was the custom for men +to stay all their lives in one district, and to work for one farmer +quite as much for payment in kind as for the actual wages, this made +little difference. Very few men once settled in regular employment +moved again; they and their families remained for many years as +stationary as if the cottage was their property, and frequently +their sons succeeded to the place and work. Now in these days the +custom of long service has rapidly disappeared. There are many +reasons, the most potent, perhaps, the altered tone of the entire +country. It boots little to inquire into the causes. The fact is, +then, that no men, not even with families, will endure what once +they did. If the conditions are arbitrary, or they consider they are +not well used, or they hear of better terms elsewhere, they will +risk it and go. So, too, farmers are more given to changing their +men than was once the case, and no longer retain the hereditary +faces about them. The result is that the fixed population may be +said to decline every year. The total population is probably the +same, but half of it is nomad. It is nomad for two reasons--because +it has no home, and because it must find wages. + +Farmers can only pay so much in wages and no more; they are at the +present moment really giving higher wages than previously, though +nominally the same in amount. The wages are higher judged in +relation to the price of wheat; that is, to their profits. If coal +falls in price, the wages of coal-miners are reduced. Now, wheat has +fallen heavily in price, but the wages of the labourer remain the +same, so that he is, individually, when he has employment, receiving +a larger sum. Probably, if farming accounts were strictly balanced, +and farming like any other business, that sum would be found to be +more than the business would bear. No trace of oppression in wages +can be found. The farmer gets allowances from his landlord, and he +allows something to his labourers, and so the whole system is kept +up by mutual understanding. Except under a very important rise in +wheat, or a favourable change in the condition of agriculture +altogether, it is not possible for the farmers to add another +sixpence either to the sum paid to the individual or to the sum paid +in the aggregate to the village. + +Therefore, as education increases--and it increases rapidly--as the +push of the world reaches the hamlet; as the labouring class +increase in social stature, and twenty new wants are found; as they +come to look forth upon matters in a very different manner to their +stolid forefathers; it is evident that some important problems will +arise in the country. The question will have to be asked: Is it +better for this population to be practically nomad or settled? How +is livelihood--_i.e._, wages--to be found for it? Can anything be +substituted for wages? Or must we devise a gigantic system of +emigration, and in a twelvemonth (if the people took it up) have +every farmer crying out that he was ruined, he could never get his +harvest in. I do not think myself that the people could be induced +to go under any temptation. They like England in despite of their +troubles. If the farmer could by any happy means find out some new +plant to cultivate, and so obtain a better profit and be able to +give wages to more hands, the nomad population would settle itself +somehow, if in mud huts. No chance of that is in sight at present, +so we are forced round to the consideration of a substitute for +wages. + +Now, ten or twelve years since, when much activity prevailed in all +things agricultural, it was proposed to fix the labouring population +to the soil by building better cottages, giving them large gardens +and allotments, and various other privileges. This was done; and in +'Fraser' I did not forget to credit the good intent of those who did +it. Yet now we see, ten years afterwards, that instead of fixing the +population, the population becomes more wandering. Why is this? Why +have not these cottages and allotments produced their expected +effect? There seems but one answer--that it is the lack of fixity of +tenure. All these cottages and allotments have only been held on +sufferance, on good behaviour, and hence they have failed. For even +for material profit in the independent nineteenth century men do not +care to be held on their good behaviour. A contract must be free and +equal on both sides to be respected. To illustrate the case, suppose +that some large banking institution in London gave out as a law that +all the employés must live in villas belonging to the bank, say at +Norwood. There they could have very good villas, and gardens +attached, and on payment even paddocks, and there they could dwell +so long as they remained in the office. But the instant any cause of +disagreement arose they must quit not only the office but their +homes. What an outcry would be raised against bank managers' +tyranny were such a custom to be introduced! The extreme hardship of +having to leave the house on which so much trouble had been +expended, the garden carefully kept up and planted, the paddock; to +leave the neighbourhood where friends had been found, and which +suited the constitution, and where the family were healthy. Fancy +the stir there would be, and the public meetings to denounce the +harsh interference with liberty! Yet, with the exception that the +clerk might have £300 a year, and the labourer 12s. or 14s. a week, +the cases would be exactly parallel. The labourer has no fixity of +tenure. He does not particularly care to lay himself out to do his +best in the field or for his master, because he is aware that +service is no inheritance, and at any moment circumstances may arise +which may lead to his eviction. For it is really eviction, though +unaccompanied by the suffering associated with the word--I was going +to write 'abroad' for in Ireland. So that all the sanitary cottages +erected at such expense, and all the large gardens and the +allotments offered, have failed to produce a contented and settled +working population. Most people are familiar by this time with the +demand of the tenant farmers for some exalted kind of compensation, +which in effect is equivalent to tenant-right, _i.e._, to fixity of +tenure. Without this, we have all been pretty well informed by now, +it is impossible for farmers to flourish, since they cannot expend +capital unless they feel certain of getting it back again. This is +precisely the case with the labourer. His labour is his capital, +and he cannot expend it in one district unless he is assured of his +cottage and garden--that is, of his homestead and farm. You cannot +have a fixed population unless it has a home, and the labouring +population is practically homeless. There appears no possibility of +any real amelioration of their condition until they possess settled +places of abode. Till then they must move to and fro, and increase +in restlessness and discontent. Till then they must live in debt, +from hand to mouth, and without hope of growth in material comfort. +A race for ever trembling on the verge of the workhouse cannot +progress and lay up for itself any saving against old age. Such a +race is feeble and lacks cohesion, and does not afford that backbone +an agricultural population should afford to the country at large. At +the last, it is to the countryman, to the ploughman, and 'the +farmer's boy,' that a land in difficulty looks for help. They are +the last line of defence--the reserve, the rampart of the nation. +Our last line at present is all unsettled and broken up, and has +lost its firm and solid front. Without homes, how can its ranks ever +become firm and solid again? + +An agricultural labourer entering on a cottage and garden with his +family, we will suppose, is informed that so long as he pays his +rent he will not be disturbed. He then sets to work in his off hours +to cultivate his garden and his allotment; he plants fruit-trees; he +trains a creeper over his porch. His boys and girls have a home +whenever out of service, and when they are at home they can assist +in cultivating their father's little property. The family has a home +and a centre, and there it will remain for generations. Such is +certainly the case wherever a labourer has a cottage of his own. The +family inherit it for generations; it would not be difficult to find +cases in which occupation has endured for a hundred years. There is +no danger now of the younger members of the family staying too much +at home. The pressure of circumstances is too strong, as already +explained; all the tendencies of the time are such as would force +them from home in search of wages. There is no going back, they must +push forwards. + +The cottage-tenure, like the farm-tenure, must come from the +landlord, of course. All movements must fall on the landlord unless +they are made imperial questions. It is always the landowner who has +to bear the burden in the end. As the cottages belong to the +landowners, fixity or certainty of tenure is like taking their +rights from them. But not more so than in the case of the exalted +compensation called tenant-right. Indeed, I think I shall show that +the change would be quite trifling beside measures which deal with +whole properties at once, of five, ten, or twenty thousand acres, as +the case may be. For, in the first place, let note be taken of a +most important circumstance, which is that at the present time these +cottages let on sufferance do not bring in one shilling to the +landlord. They are not the least profit to him. He does not receive +the nominal rent, and if he did, of what value would be so +insignificant a sum, the whole of which for a year would not pay a +tenth part of the losses sustained by the failure of one tenant +farmer. As a fact, then, the cottages are of no money value to the +landowner. A change, therefore, in the mode of tenure could not +affect the owner like a change in the tenure of a great farm, say at +a rental of £1,500. Not having received any profit from the previous +tenure of cottages, he suffers no loss if the tenure be varied. The +advantage the landowner is supposed to enjoy from the possession of +cottages scattered about his farms is that the tenants thereby +secure men to do their work. This advantage would be much better +secured by a resident and settled population. Take away the +conventional veil with which the truth is usually flimsily hidden, +and the fact is that the only objection to a certain degree of +fixity in cottage tenure is that it would remove from the farmer the +arbitrary power he now possesses of eviction. What loss there would +be in this way it is not easy to see, since, as explained, the men +must have wages, and can only get them from farmers, to whom +therefore they must resort. But then the man knows the power to give +such notice is there, and it does not agree with the feelings of the +nineteenth century. No loss whatever would accrue either to +landowner or tenant from a fixed population. A farmer may say, 'But +suppose the man who has my cottage will not work for me?' To this I +reply, that if the district is so short of cottages that it is +possible for a farmer to be short of hands, the sooner pressure is +applied in some way, and others built, the better for landowner, +tenant, and labourer. If there is sufficient habitation for the +number of men necessary for cultivating the land, there will be no +difficulty, because one particular labourer will not work for one +particular farmer. That labourer must then do one of two things, he +must starve or work for some other farmer, where his services would +dispossess another labourer, who would immediately take the vacant +place. The system of employing men on sufferance, and keeping them, +however mildly, under the thumb, is a system totally at variance +with the tenets of our time. It is a most expensive system, and +ruinous to true self-respect, insomuch as it tends to teach the +labourer's children that the only way they can show the independence +of their thought is by impertinent language. How much better for a +labourer to be perfectly free--how much better for an employer to +have a man to work for him quite outside any suspicion of +sufferance, or of being under his thumb! I should not like men under +my thumb; I should like to pay them for their work, and there let +the contract end, as it ends in all other businesses. As more wages +cannot be paid, the next best thing, perhaps the absolutely +necessary thing, is a fixed home. + +I think it would pay any landowner to let all the cottages upon his +property to the labourers themselves direct, exactly as farms are +let, giving them security of tenure, so long as rent was +forthcoming, with each cottage to add a large garden, or allotment, +up to, say, two acres, at an agricultural, and not an accommodation, +rent. Most gardens and allotments are let as a favour at a rent +about three times, and in some cases even six times, the +agricultural rent of the same soil in the adjoining fields. +Cottagers do not look upon such tenancies--held, too, on +sufferance--as a favour or kindness, and feel no gratitude nor any +attachment to those who permit them to dig and delve at thrice the +charge the farmer pays. Add to these cottages gardens, not +necessarily adjoining them, but as near as circumstances allow, up +to two acres at a purely agricultural rental. If, in addition, +facilities were to be given for the gradual purchase of the freehold +by the labourer on the same terms as are now frequently held out by +building societies, it would be still better. I think it would turn +out for the advantage of landowner, tenant, and the country at large +to have a settled agricultural population. + +The limit of two acres I mention, not that there is any especial +virtue in that extent of land, but because I do not think the +labourer would profit by having more, since he must then spend his +whole time cultivating his plot. Experience has proved over and over +again that for a man in England to live by spade-husbandry on four +or five acres of land is the most miserable existence possible. He +can but just scrape a living, he is always failing, his children are +in rags, and debt ultimately consumes him. He is of no good either +to himself or to others or to the country. For in our country +agriculture, whether by plough or spade, is confined to three +things, to grass, corn, or cattle, and there is no plant like the +vine by which a small proprietor may prosper. Wet seasons come, and +see--even the broad acres cultivated at such an expense of money +produce nothing, and the farmer comes to the verge of ruin. But this +verge of ruin to the small proprietor who sees his four acres of +crops destroyed means simple extinction. So that the amount of land +to be of advantage is that amount which the cottager can cultivate +without giving his entire time to it; so that, in fact, he may also +earn wages. + +To landowner and farmer the value of a fixed population like this, +fixed and independent, and looking only for payment for what was +actually done, and not for eleemosynary earnings, would be, I think, +very great. There would be a constant supply of first-class labour +available all the year round. A supply of labour on an estate is +like water-power in America--indispensable. But if you have no +resident supply you face two evils--you must pay extra to keep men +there when you have no real work for them to do, or you must offer +fancy wages in harvest. Now, I think a resident population would do +the same work if not at less wages at the time of the work, yet for +less money, taking the year through. + +I should be in hopes that such a plan would soon breed a race of men +of the sturdiest order, the true and natural countrymen; men +standing upright in the face of all, without one particle of +servility; paying their rates, and paying their rents; absolutely +civil and pleasant-mannered, because, being really independent, they +would need no impudence of tongue to assert what they did not feel; +men giving a full day's work for a full day's wages (which is now +seldom seen); men demanding to be paid in full for full work, but +refusing favours and petty assistance to be recouped hereafter; able +to give their children a fixed home to come back to; able even to +push them in life if they wish to leave employment on the land; men +with the franchise, voting under the protection of the ballot, and +voting first and foremost for the demolition of the infernal +poor-law and workhouse system. + +The men are there. This is no imaginary class to be created, they +are there, and they only require homes to become the finest body in +the world, a rampart to the nation, a support not only to +agriculture but to every industry that needs the help of labour. For +physique they have ever been noted, and if it is not valued at home +it is estimated at its true value in the colonies. From Australia, +America, all countries desiring sinews and strength, come earnest +persuasions to these men to emigrate. They are desired above all +others as the very foundation of stability. It is only at home that +the agricultural labourer is despised. If ever there were grounds +for that contempt in his illiterate condition they have disappeared. +I have always maintained that intelligence exists outside education, +that men who can neither read nor write often possess good natural +parts. The labourer at large possesses such parts, but until quite +lately he has had no opportunity of displaying them. Of recent years +he or his children have had an opportunity of displaying their +natural ability, since education was brought within reach of them +all. Their natural power has at once shown itself, and all the young +men and young women are now solidly educated. The reproach of being +illiterate can no longer be hurled at them. They never were +illiterate mentally; they are now no more illiterate in the partial +sense of book-knowledge. A young agricultural labourer to-day can +speak almost as well as the son of a gentleman. There is, of course, +a little of the country accent remaining, and some few technical +words are in use. Why should they not be? Do not gentlemen on the +Exchange use technical terms? I cannot see myself that 'contango' is +any better English, or 'backwardation' more indicative of +intelligence, than the terms used in the field. The labourer of +to-day reads, and thinks about what he reads. The young, being +educated, have brought education to their parents, the old have +caught the new tone from the young. It is acknowledged that the farm +labourer is the most peaceful of all men, the least given to +agitation for agitation's sake. Permit him to live and he is +satisfied. He has no class ill-feeling, either against farmer or +landowner, and he resists all attempts to introduce ill-feeling. He +maintains a steady and manly attitude, calm, and considering, +without a trace of hasty revolutionary sentiments. I say that such +a race of men are not to be despised; I say that they are the very +foundation of a nation's stability. I say that in common justice +they deserve settled homes; and further, that as a matter of sound +policy they should be provided with them. + + + + +ON THE DOWNS + + +A trailing beam of light sweeps through the combe, broadening out +where it touches the ground, and narrowing up to the cloud with +which it travels. The hollow groove between the hills is lit up +where it falls as with a ray cast from a mirror. It is an acre wide +on the sward, and tapers up to the invisible slit in the cloud; a +mere speck of light from the sky enlightens the earth, and one +thought opens the hearts of all men. On the slope here the furze is +flecked with golden spots, and black-headed stonechats perch on +ant-hills or stray flints, taking no heed of a quiet wanderer. Afar, +blue line upon blue line of down is drawn along in slow curves, and +beneath, the distant sea appears a dim plain with five bright +streaks, where the sunshine pours through as many openings in the +clouds. The wind smells like an apple fresh plucked; suddenly the +great beam of light vanishes as the sun comes out, and at once the +single beam is merged in the many. + +Light and colour, freedom and delicious air, give exquisite pleasure +to the senses; but the heart searches deeper, and draws forth food +for itself from sunshine, hills and sea. Desiring their beauty so +deeply, the desire in a measure satisfies itself. It is a thirst +which slakes itself to grow the stronger. It springs afresh from the +light, from the blue hill-line yonder, from the gorse-flower at +hand; to seize upon something that seems in them, which they +symbolize and speak of; to take it away within oneself; to absorb it +and feel conscious of it--a something that cannot be defined, but +which corresponds with all that is highest, truest, and most ideal +within the mind. It says, Hope and aspire, strive for largeness of +thought. The wind blows, and declares that the mind has capacity for +more than has ever yet been brought to it. The wind is wide, and +blows not only here, but along the whole range of hills--the hills +are not broad enough for it; nor is the sea--it crosses the ocean +and spreads itself whither it will. Though invisible, it is +material, and yet it knows no limit. As the wind to the fixed +boulder lying deep in the sward, so is the immaterial mind to the +wind. There is capacity in it for more than has ever yet been placed +before it. No system, no philosophy yet organized in logical +sequence satisfies the inmost depth--fills and fully occupies the +well of thought. Read the system, and with the last word it is +over--the mind passes on and requires more. It is but a crumb tasted +and gone: who should remember a crumb? But the wind blows, not one +puff and then stillness: it continues; if it does cease there +remains the same air to be breathed. So that the physical part of +man thus always provided with air for breathing is infinitely better +cared for than his mind, which gets but little crumbs, as it were, +coming from old times. These are soon gone, and there remains +nothing. Somewhere surely there must be more. An ancient thinker +considered that the atmosphere was full of faint images--spectra, +reflections, or emanations retaining shape, though without +substance--that they crowded past in myriads by day and night. +Perhaps there may be thoughts invisible, but floating round us, if +we could only render ourselves sensitive to their impact. Such a +remark must not be taken literally--it is only an effort to convey a +meaning, just as shadow throws up light. The light is that there are +further thoughts yet to be found. + +The fulness of Nature and the vacancy of mental existence are +strangely contrasted. Nature is full everywhere; there is no chink, +no unfurnished space. The mind has only a few thoughts to recall, +and those old, and that have been repeated these centuries past. +Unless the inner mind (not that which deals with little matters of +daily labour) lets itself rest on every blade of grass and leaf, and +listens to the soothing wind, it must be vacant--vacant for lack of +something to do, not from limit of capacity. For it is too strong +and powerful for the things it has to grasp; they are crushed like +wheat in a mill. It has capacity for so much, and it is supplied +with so little. All the centuries that have gone have gathered +hardly a bushel, as it were, and these dry grains are quickly rolled +under strong thought and reduced to dust. The mill must then cease, +not that it has no further power, but because the supply stops. +Bring it another bushel, and it will grind as long as the grain is +poured in. Let fresh images come in a stream like the apple-scented +wind; there is room for them, the storehouse of the inner mind +expands to receive them, wide as the sea which receives the breeze. +The Downs are now lit with sunlight--the night will cover them +presently--but the mind will sigh as eagerly for these things as in +the glory of day. Sooner or later there will surely come an opening +in the clouds, and a broad beam of light will descend. A new thought +scarcely arrives in a thousand years, but the sweet wind is always +here, providing breath for the physical man. Let hope and faith +remain, like the air, always, so that the soul may live. That such a +higher thought may come is the desire--the prayer--which springs on +viewing the blue hill line, the sea, the flower. + +Stoop and touch the earth, and receive its influence; touch the +flower, and feel its life; face the wind, and have its meaning; let +the sunlight fall on the open hand as if you could hold it. +Something may be grasped from them all, invisible yet strong. It is +the sense of a wider existence--wider and higher. Illustrations +drawn from material things (as they needs must be) are weak to +convey such an idea. But much may be gathered indirectly by +examining the powers of the mind--by the light thrown on it from +physical things. Now, at this moment, the blue dome of the sky, +immense as it is, is but a span to the soul. The eye-glance travels +to the horizon in an instant--the soul-glance travels over all +matter also in a moment. By no possibility could a world, or a +series of worlds, be conceived which the mind could not traverse +instantaneously. Outer space itself, therefore, seems limited and +with bounds, because the mind is so penetrating it can imagine +nothing to the end of which it cannot get. Space--ethereal space, as +far beyond the stars as it is to them--think of it how you will, +ends each side in dimness. The dimness is its boundary. The mind so +instantly occupies all space that space becomes finite, and with +limits. It is the things that are brought before it that are +limited, not the power of the mind. + +The sweet wind says, again, that the inner mind has never yet been +fully employed; that more than half its power still lies dormant. +Ideas are the tools of the mind. Without tools you cannot build a +ship. The minds of savages lie almost wholly dormant, not because +naturally deficient, but because they lack the ideas--the tools--to +work with. So we have had our ideas so long that we have built all +we can with them. Nothing further can be constructed with these +materials. But whenever new and larger materials are discovered we +shall find the mind able to build much more magnificent structures. +Let us, then, if we cannot yet discover them, at least wait and +watch as ceaselessly as the hills, listening as the wind blows over. +Three-fourths of the mind still sleeps. That little atom of it +needed to conduct the daily routine of the world is, indeed, often +strained to the utmost. That small part of it, again, occasionally +exercised in re-learning ancient thoughts, is scarcely half +employed--small as it is. There is so much more capacity in the +inner mind--a capacity of which but few even dream. Until favourable +times and chances bring fresh materials for it, it is not conscious +of itself. Light and freedom, colour, and delicious air--sunshine, +blue hill lines, and flowers--give the heart to feel that there is +so much more to be enjoyed of which we walk in ignorance. + +Touching a flower, it seems as if some of this were absorbed from +it; it flows from the flower like its perfume. The delicate odour of +the violet cannot be written; it is material yet it cannot be +expressed. So there is an immaterial influence flowing from it which +escapes language. Touching the greensward, there is a feeling as if +the great earth sent a mystic influence through the frame. From the +sweet wind, too, it comes. The sunlight falls on the hand; the light +remains without on the surface, but its influence enters the very +being. This sense of absorbing something from earth, and flower, and +sunlight is like hovering on the verge of a great truth. It is the +consciousness that a great truth is there. Not that the flower and +the wind know it, but that they stir unexplored depths in the mind. +They are only material--the sun sinks, darkness covers the hills, +and where is their beauty then? The feeling or thought which is +excited by them resides in the mind, and the purport and drift of it +is a wider existence--yet to be enjoyed on earth. Only to think of +and imagine it is in itself a pleasure. + +The red-tipped hawthorn buds are full of such a thought; the tender +green of the leaf just born speaks it. The leaf does not come forth +shapeless. Already, at its emergence, there are fine divisions at +the edge, markings, and veins. It is wonderful from the +commencement. A thought may be put in a line, yet require a +life-time to understand in its completeness. The leaf was folded in +the tiny red-tipped bud--now it has come forth how long must one +ponder to fully appreciate it? + +Those things which are symbolized by the leaf, the flower, the very +touch of earth, have not yet been put before the mind in a definite +form, and shaped so that they can be weighed. The mind is like a +lens. A lens can examine nothing of itself, but no matter what is +put before it, it will magnify it so that it can be searched into. +So whatever is put before the mind in such form that it may be +perceived, the mind will search into and examine. It is not that the +mind is limited, and unable to understand; it is that the facts have +not yet been placed in front of it. But because as yet these things +are like the leaf folded in the bud, that is no reason why we should +say they are beyond hope of comprehension. + +Such a course inflicts the greatest moral injury on the world. +Remaining content upon a mental level is fatal, saying to ourselves, +'There is nothing more, this is our limit; we can go no farther,' is +the ruin of the mind, as much sleep is the ruin of the body. Looking +back through history, it is evident that thought has forced itself +out on the world by its own power and against an immense inertia. +Thought has worked its way by dint of its own energy, and not +because it was welcomed. So few care or hope for a higher mental +level; the old terrace of mind will do; let us rest; be assured no +higher terrace exists. Experience, however, from time to time has +proved that higher terraces did exist. Without doubt there are +others now. Somewhere behind the broad beam of life sweeping so +beautifully through the combe, somewhere behind the flower, and in +the wind. Yet to come up over the blue hill line, there are deeper, +wider thoughts still. Always let us look higher, in spite of the +narrowness of daily life. The little is so heavy that it needs a +strong effort to escape it. The littleness of daily routine; the +care felt and despised, the minutiæ which grow against our will, +come in time to be heavier than lead. There should be some comfort +in the thought that, however these may strain the mind, it is +certain that hardly a fiftieth part of its real capacity is occupied +with them. There is an immense power in it unused. By stretching one +muscle too much it becomes overworked; still, there are a hundred +other muscles in the body. In truth, we do not fully understand our +own earth, our own life, yet. Never, never let us permit the weight +of little things to bear us wholly down. If any object that these +are vague aspirations, so is the wind vague, yet it is real. They +may direct us as strongly as the wind presses on the sails of a +ship. + +The blue hill line arouses a perception of a current of thought +which lies for the most part unrecognized within--an unconscious +thought. By looking at this blue hill line this dormant power within +the mind becomes partly visible; the heart wakes up to it. + +The intense feeling caused by the sunshine, by the sky, by the +flowers and distant sea is an increased consciousness of our own +life. The stream of light--the rush of sweet wind--excites a deeper +knowledge of the soul. An unutterable desire at once arises for more +of this; let us receive more of the inner soul life which seeks and +sighs for purest beauty. But the word beauty is poor to convey the +feelings intended. Give us the thoughts which correspond with the +feeling called up by the sky, the sea afar, and the flower at hand. +Let us really be in ourselves the sunbeam which we use as an +illustration. The recognition of its loveliness, and of the +delicious air, is really a refined form of prayer--the purer because +it is not associated with any object, because of its width and +openness. It is not prayer in the sense of a benefit desired, it is +a feeling of rising to a nobler existence. + +It does not include wishes connected with routine and labour. Nor +does it depend on the brilliant sun--this mere clod of earth will +cause it, even a little crumble of mould. The commonest form of +matter thus regarded excites the highest form of spirit. The +feelings may be received from the least morsel of brown earth +adhering to the surface of the skin on the hand that has touched the +ground. Inhaling this deep feeling, the soul, perforce, must +pray--a rude imperfect word to express the aspiration--with every +glimpse of sunlight, whether it come in a room amid routine, or in +the solitude of the hills; with every flower, and grass-blade, and +the vast earth underfoot; with the gleam on the distant sea, with +the song of the lark on high, and the thrush lowly in the hawthorn. + +From the blue hill lines, from the dark copses on the ridges, the +shadows in the combes, from the apple-sweet wind and rising grasses, +from the leaf issuing out of the bud to question the sun--there +comes from all of these an influence which forces the heart to lift +itself in earnest and purest desire. + +The soul knows itself, and would live its own life. + + + + +THE SUN AND THE BROOK + + +The sun first sees the brook in the meadow where some roach swim +under a bulging root of ash. Leaning against the tree, and looking +down into the water, there is a picture of the sky. Its brightness +hides the sandy floor of the stream as a picture conceals the wall +where it hangs, but, as if the water cooled the rays, the eye can +bear to gaze on the image of the sun. Over its circle thin threads +of summer cloud are drawn; it is only the reflection, yet the sun +seems closer seen in the brook, more to do with us, like the grass, +and the tree, and the flowing stream. In the sky it is so far, it +cannot be approached, nor even gazed at, so that by the very virtue +and power of its own brilliance it forces us to ignore, and almost +forget it. The summer days go on, and no one notices the sun. The +sweet water slipping past the green flags, with every now and then a +rushing sound of eager haste, receives the sky, and it becomes a +part of the earth and of life. No one can see his own face without a +glass; no one can sit down and deliberately think of the soul till +it appears a visible thing. It eludes--the mind cannot grasp it. But +hold a flower in the hand--a rose, this later honeysuckle, or this +the first harebell--and in its beauty you can recognize your own +soul reflected as the sun in the brook. For the soul finds itself in +beautiful things. + +Between the bulging root and the bank there is a tiny oval pool, on +the surface of which the light does not fall. There the eye can see +deep down into the stream, which scarcely moves in the hollow it has +worn for itself as its weight swings into the concave of the bend. +The hollow is illumined by the light which sinks through the stream +outside the root; and beneath, in the green depth, five or six roach +face the current. Every now and then a tiny curl appears on the +surface inside the root, and must rise up to come there. Unwinding +as it goes, its raised edge lowers and becomes lost in the level. +Dark moss on the base of the ash darkens the water under. The light +green leaves overhead yield gently to the passing air; there are but +few leaves on the tree, and these scarcely make a shadow on the +grass beyond that of the trunk. As the branch swings, the gnats are +driven farther away to avoid it. Over the verge of the bank, bending +down almost to the root in the water, droop the heavily seeded heads +of tall grasses which, growing there, have escaped the scythe. + +These are the days of the convolvulus, of ripening berry, and +dropping nut. In the gateways, ears of wheat hang from the hawthorn +boughs, which seized them from the passing load. The broad aftermath +is without flowers; the flowers are gone to the uplands and the +untilled wastes. Curving opposite the south, the hollow side of the +brook has received the sunlight like a silvered speculum every day +that the sun has shone. Since the first violet of the meadow, till +now that the berries are ripening, through all the long drama of the +summer, the rays have visited the stream. The long, loving touch of +the sun has left some of its own mystic attraction in the brook. +Resting here, and gazing down into it, thoughts and dreams come +flowing as the water flows. Thoughts without words, mobile like the +stream, nothing compact that can be grasped and stayed: dreams that +slip silently as water slips through the fingers. The grass is not +grass alone; the leaves of the ash above are not leaves only. From +tree, and earth, and soft air moving, there comes an invisible touch +which arranges the senses to its waves as the ripples of the lake +set the sand in parallel lines. The grass sways and fans the +reposing mind; the leaves sway and stroke it, till it can feel +beyond itself and with them, using each grass blade, each leaf, to +abstract life from earth and ether. These then become new organs, +fresh nerves and veins running afar out into the field, along the +winding brook, up through the leaves, bringing a larger existence. +The arms of the mind open wide to the broad sky. + +Some sense of the meaning of the grass, and leaves of the tree, and +sweet waters hovers on the confines of thought, and seems ready to +be resolved into definite form. There is a meaning in these things, +a meaning in all that exists, and it comes near to declare itself. +Not yet, not fully, nor in such shape that it may be formulated--if +ever it will be--but sufficiently so to leave, as it were, an +unwritten impression that will remain when the glamour is gone, and +grass is but grass, and a tree a tree. + + + + +NATURE AND ETERNITY + + +The goldfinches sing so sweetly hidden in the topmost boughs of the +apple-trees that heart of man cannot withstand them. These four +walls, though never so well decorated with pictures, this flat white +ceiling, feels all too small, and dull and tame. Down with books and +pen, and let us away with the goldfinches, the princes of the birds. +For thirty of their generations they have sung and courted and built +their nests in those apple-trees, almost under the very windows--a +time in their chronology equal to a thousand years. For they are so +very busy, from earliest morn till night--a long summer's day is +like a year. Now flirting with a gaily-decked and coy lady-love, +chasing her from tree to tree; now splashing at the edge of a +shallow stream till the golden feathers glisten and the red topknot +shines. Then searching in and out the hedgerow for favourite seeds, +and singing, singing all the while, verily a 'song without an end.' +The wings never still, the bill never idle, the throat never silent, +and the tiny heart within the proud breast beating so rapidly that, +reckoning time by change and variety, an hour must be a day. A life +all joy and freedom, without thought, and full of love. What a +great god the sun must be to the finches from whose wings his beams +are reflected in glittering gold! The abstract idea of a deity +apart, as they feel their life-blood stirring, their eyelids +opening, with the rising sun; as they fly to satisfy their hunger +with those little fruits they use; as they revel in the warm +sunshine, and utter soft notes of love to their beautiful mates, +they cannot but feel a sense, unnamed, indefinite, of joyous +gratitude towards that great orb which is very nearly akin to the +sensual worship of ancient days. Darkness and cold are Typhon and +Ahriman, light and warmth, Osiris and Ormuzd, indeed to them; with +song they welcome the spring and celebrate the awakening of Adonis. +Lovely little idolaters, my heart goes with them. Deep down in the +mysteries of organic life there are causes for the marvellously +extended grasp which the worship of light once held upon the world, +hardly yet guessed at, and which even now play a part unsuspected in +the motives of men. Even yet, despite our artificial life, despite +railroads, telegraphs, printing-press, in the face of firm +monotheistic convictions, once a year the old, old influence breaks +forth, driving thousands and thousands from cities and houses out +into field and forest, to the seashore and mountain-top, to gather +fresh health and strength from the Sun, from the Air--Jove--and old +Ocean. So the goldfinches rejoice in the sunshine, and who can sit +within doors when they sing? + +Foolish fashion has banished the orchard from the mansion--the +orchard which Homer tells us kings once valued as part of their +demesne--and has substituted curious evergreens to which the birds +do not take readily. But this orchard is almost under the windows, +and in summer the finches wake the sleeper with their song, and in +autumn the eye looks down upon the yellow and rosy fruit. Up the +scaling bark of the trunks the brown tree-climbers run, peering into +every cranny, and few are the insects which escape those keen eyes. +Sitting on a bench under a pear-tree, I saw a spider drop from a +leaf fully nine feet above the ground, and disappear in the grass, +leaving a slender rope of web, attached at the upper end to a leaf, +and at the lower to a fallen pear. In a few minutes a small white +caterpillar, barely an inch long, began to climb this rope. It +grasped the thread in the mouth and drew up its body about a +sixteenth of an inch at a time, then held tight with the two +fore-feet, and, lifting its head, seized the rope a sixteenth +higher; repeating this operation incessantly, the rest of the body +swinging in the air. Never pausing, without haste and without rest, +this creature patiently worked its way upwards, as a man might up a +rope. Let anyone seize a beam overhead and attempt to lift the chest +up to a level with it, the expenditure of strength is very great; +even with long practice, to 'swarm' up a pole or rope to any +distance is the hardest labour the human muscles are capable of. +This despised 'creeping thing,' without the slightest apparent +effort, without once pausing to take breath, reached the leaf +overhead in rather under half an hour, having climbed a rope fully +108 times its own length. To equal this a man must climb 648 feet, +or more than half as high again as St. Paul's. The insect on +reaching the top at once commenced feeding, and easily bit through +the hard pear-leaf: how delicately then it must have grasped the +slender spider's web, which a touch would destroy! The thoughts +which this feat call forth do not end here, for there was no +necessity to go up the thread; the insect could to all appearance +have travelled up the trunk of the tree with ease, and it is not to +be supposed that its mouth and feet were specially adapted to climb +a web, a thing which I have never seen done since, and which was to +all appearance merely the result of the _accident_ of the insect +coming along just after the spider had left the thread. Another few +minutes, and the first puff of wind would have carried the thread +away--as a puff actually did soon afterwards. I claim a wonderful +amount of _original_ intelligence--as opposed to the ill-used term +instinct--of patience and perseverance for this creature. It is so +easy to imagine that because man is big, brain power cannot exist in +tiny organizations; but even in man the seat of thought is so minute +that it escapes discovery, and his very life may be said to lie in +the point of contact of two bones of the neck. Put the mind of man +within the body of the caterpillar--what more could it have done? +Accustomed to bite and eat its way through hard leaves, why did not +the insect snip off and destroy its rope? These are matters to think +over dreamily while the finches sing overhead in the apple-tree. + +They are not the only regular inhabitants, still less the only +visitors. As there are wide plains even in thickly populated England +where man has built no populous city, so in bird-life there are +fields and woods almost deserted by the songsters, who at the same +time congregate thickly in a few favourite resorts, where experience +gathered in slow time has shown them they need fear nothing from +human beings. Such a place, such a city of the birds and beasts, is +this old orchard. The bold and handsome bullfinch builds in the low +hawthorn hedge which bounds it upon one side. In the walls of the +arbour formed of thick ivy and flowering creepers, the robin and +thrush hide their nests. On the topmost branches of the tall +pear-trees the swallows rest and twitter. The noble blackbird, with +full black eye, pecks at the decaying apples upon the sward, and +takes no heed of a footstep. Sometimes the loving pair of squirrels +who dwell in the fir-copse at the end of the meadow find their way +down the hedges--staying at each tree as an inn by the road--into +the orchard, and play their fantastic tricks upon the apple-boughs. +The flycatchers perch on a branch clear from the tree, and dart at +the passing flies. Merriest of all, the tomtits chatter and scold, +hanging under the twigs, head downwards, and then away to their nest +in the crumbling stone wall which encloses one side of the orchard. +They have worked their way by a cranny deep into the thick wall. On +the other side runs the king's highway, and ever and anon the teams +go by, making music with their bells. One day a whole nation of +martins savagely attacked this wall. Pressure of population probably +had compelled them to emigrate from the sand quarry, and the chinks +in the wall pleased their eyes. Five-and-thirty brown little birds +went to work like miners at twelve or fourteen holes, tapping at the +mortar with their bills, scratching out small fragments of stone, +twittering and talking all the time, and there undoubtedly they +would have founded a colony had not the jingling teams and now and +then a barking dog disturbed them. Resting on the bench and leaning +back against an apple-tree, it is easy to watch the eager starlings +on the chimney-top, and see them tear out the straw of the thatch to +form their holes. They are all orators born. They live in a +democracy, and fluency of speech leads the populace. Perched on the +edge of the chimney, his bronze-tinted wings flapping against his +side to give greater emphasis--as a preacher moves his hands--the +starling pours forth a flood of eloquence, now rising to +screaming-pitch, now modulating his tones to soft persuasion, now +descending to deep, low, complaining, regretful sounds--a speech +without words--addressed to a dozen birds gravely listening on the +ash-tree yonder. He is begging them to come with him to a meadow +where food is abundant. In the ivy close under the window there, +within reach of the hand, a water-wagtail built its nest. To this +nest one lovely afternoon came a great bird like a hawk, to the +fearful alarm and intense excitement of all the bird population. It +was a cuckoo, and after three or four visits, despite a curious eye +at the window, there was a strange egg in that nest. Inside that +window, huddled fearfully in the darkest corner of the room, there +was once a tiny heap of blue and yellow feathers. A tomtit straying +through the casement had been chased by the cat till it dropped +exhausted, and the cat was fortunately frightened by a footstep. The +bird was all but dead--the feathers awry and ruffled, the eyelids +closed, the body limp and helpless--only a faint fluttering of the +tiny heart. When placed tenderly on the ledge of the casement, where +the warm sunshine fell and the breeze came softly, it dropped +listlessly on one side. But in a little while the life-giving rays +quickened the blood, the eyelids opened, and presently it could +stand perched upon the finger. Then, lest with returning +consciousness fear should again arise, the clinging claws were +transferred from the finger to a twig of wall-pear. A few minutes +more, and with a chirp the bird was gone into the flood of sunlight. +What intense joy there must have been in that little creature's +heart as it drank the sweet air and felt the loving warmth of its +great god Ra, the Sun! + +Throwing open the little wicket-gate, by a step the greensward of +the meadow is reached. Though the grass has been mown and the ground +is dry, it is better to carry a thick rug, and cast it down in the +shadow under the tall horse-chestnut-tree. It is only while in a +dreamy, slumbrous, half-mesmerized state that nature's ancient +papyrus roll can be read--only when the mind is at rest, separated +from care and labour; when the body is at ease, luxuriating in +warmth and delicious languor; when the soul is in accord and +sympathy with the sunlight, with the leaf, with the slender blades +of grass, and can feel with the tiniest insect which climbs up them +as up a mighty tree. As the genius of the great musicians, without +an articulated word or printed letter, can carry with it all the +emotions, so now, lying prone upon the earth in the shadow, with +quiescent will, listening, thoughts and feelings rise respondent to +the sunbeams, to the leaf, the very blade of grass. Resting the head +upon the hand, gazing down upon the ground, the strange and +marvellous inner sight of the mind penetrates the solid earth, +grasps in part the mystery of its vast extension upon either side, +bearing its majestic mountains, its deep forests, its grand oceans, +and almost feels the life which in ten thousand thousand forms +revels upon its surface. Returning upon itself, the mind joys in the +knowledge that it too is a part of this wonder--akin to the ten +thousand thousand creatures, akin to the very earth itself. How +grand and holy is this life! how sacred the temple which contains +it! + +Out from the hedge, not five yards distant, pours a rush of deep +luscious notes, succeeded by the sweetest trills heard by man. It is +the nightingale, which tradition assigns to the night only, but +which in fact sings as loudly, and to my ear more joyously, in the +full sunlight, especially in the morning, and always close to the +nest. The sun has moved onward upon his journey, and this spot is no +longer completely shaded, but the foliage of a great oak breaks the +force of his rays, and the eye can even bear to gaze at his disc for +a few moments. Living for this brief hour at least in unalloyed +sympathy with nature, apart from all disturbing influences, the +sight of that splendid disc carries the soul with it till it feels +as eternal as the sun. Let the memory call up a picture of the +desert sands of Egypt--upon the kings with the double crown, upon +Rameses, upon Sesostris, upon Assurbanipal the burning beams of this +very sun descended, filling their veins with tumultuous life, three +thousand years ago. Lifted up in absorbing thought, the mind feels +that these three thousand years are in truth no longer past than the +last beat of the pulse. It throbbed--the throb is gone; their pulse +throbbed, and it seems but a moment since, for to thought, as to the +sun, there is no time. This little petty life of seventy years, with +its little petty aims and hopes, its despicable fears and +contemptible sorrows, is no more the life with which the mind is +occupied. This golden disc has risen and set, as the graven marks of +man alone record, full eight thousand years. The hieroglyphs of the +rocks speak of a fiery sun shining inconceivable ages before that. +Yet even this almost immortal sun had a beginning--perhaps emerging +as a ball of incandescent gas from chaos: how long ago was that? And +onwards, still onwards goes the disc, doubtless for ages and ages to +come. It is time that our measures should be extended; these paltry +divisions of hours and days and years--aye, of centuries--should be +superseded by terms conveying some faint idea at least of the +vastness of space. For in truth, when thinking thus, there is no +_time_ at all. The mind loses the sense of time and reposes in +eternity. This hour, this instant is eternity; it extends backwards, +it extends forwards, and we are in it. It is a grand and an +ennobling feeling to know that at this moment illimitable time +extends on either hand. No conception of a supernatural character +formed in the brain has ever or will ever surpass the mystery of +this endless existence as exemplified--as made manifest by the +physical sun--a visible sign of immortality. This--this hour is part +of the immortal life. Reclining upon this rug under the +chestnut-tree, while the graceful shadows dance, a passing bee hums +and the nightingale sings, while the oak foliage sprinkles the +sunshine over us, we are really and in truth in the midst of +eternity. Only by walking hand in hand with nature, only by a +reverent and loving study of the mysteries for ever around us, is it +possible to disabuse the mind of the narrow view, the contracted +belief that time is now and eternity to-morrow. Eternity is to-day. +The goldfinches and the tiny caterpillars, the brilliant sun, if +looked at lovingly and thoughtfully, will lift the soul out of the +smaller life of human care that is of selfish aims, bounded by +seventy years, into the greater, the limitless life which has been +going on over universal space from endless ages past, which is going +on now, and which will for ever and for ever, in one form or +another, continue to proceed. + +Dreamily listening to the nightingale's song, let us look down upon +the earth as the sun looks down upon it. In this meadow how many +millions of blades of grass are there, each performing wonderful +operations which the cleverest chemist can but poorly indicate, +taking up from the earth its sap, from the air its gases, in a word +living, living as much as ourselves, though in a lower form? On the +oak-tree yonder, how many leaves are doing the same? Just now we +felt the vastness of the earth--its extended majesty, bearing +mountain, forest, and sea. Not a blade of grass but has its insect, +not a leaf; the very air as it softly woos the cheek bears with it +living germs, and upon all those mountains, within those forests, +and in every drop of those oceans, life in some shape moves and +stirs. Nay, the very solid earth itself, the very chalk and clay and +stone and rock has been built up by once living organisms. But at +this instant, looking down upon the earth as the sun does, how can +words depict the glowing wonder, the marvellous beauty of all the +plant, the insect, the animal life, which presses upon the mental +eye? It is impossible. But with these that are more immediately +around us--with the goldfinch, the caterpillar, the nightingale, the +blades of grass, the leaves--with these we may feel, into their life +we may in part enter, and find our own existence thereby enlarged. +Would that it were possible for the heart and mind to enter into +_all_ the life that glows and teems upon the earth--to feel with it, +hope with it, sorrow with it--and thereby to become a grander, +nobler being. Such a being, with such a sympathy and larger +existence, must hold in scorn the feeble, cowardly, selfish desire +for an immortality of pleasure only, whose one great hope is to +escape pain! No. Let me joy with all living creatures; let me suffer +with them all--the reward of feeling a deeper, grander life would be +amply sufficient. + +What wonderful patience the creatures called 'lower' exhibit! Watch +this small red ant travelling among the grass-blades. To it they are +as high as the oak-trees to us, and they are entangled and matted +together as a forest overthrown by a tornado. The insect slowly +overcomes all the difficulties of its route--now climbing over the +creeping roots of the buttercups, now struggling under a fallen +leaf, now getting up a bennet, up and down, making one inch forward +for three vertically, but never pausing, always onwards at racing +speed. A shadow sweeps rapidly over the grass--it is that of a rook +which has flown between us and the sun. Looking upwards into the +deep azure of the sky, intently gazing into space and forgetting for +a while the life around and beneath, there comes into the mind an +intense desire to rise, to penetrate the height, to become part and +parcel of that wondrous infinity which extends overhead as it +extends along the surface. The soul full of thought grows +concentrated in itself, marvels only at its own destiny, labours to +behold the secret of its own existence, and, above all, utters +without articulate words a prayer forced from it by the bright sun, +by the blue sky, by bird and plant:--Let me have wider feelings, +more extended sympathies, let me feel with all living things, +rejoice and praise with them. Let me have deeper knowledge, a nearer +insight, a more reverent conception. Let me see the mystery of +life--the secret of the sap as it rises in the tree--the secret of +the blood as it courses through the vein. Reveal the broad earth and +the ends of it--make the majestic ocean open to the eye down to its +inmost recesses. Expand the mind till it grasps the idea of the +unseen forces which hold the globe suspended and draw the vast suns +and stars through space. Let it see the life, the organisms which +dwell in those great worlds, and feel with them their hopes and joys +and sorrows. Ever upwards, onwards, wider, deeper, broader, till +capable of all--all. Never did vivid imagination stretch out the +powers of deity with such a fulness, with such intellectual grasp, +vigour, omniscience as the human mind could reach to, if only its +organs, its means, were equal to its thought. Give us, then, greater +strength of body, greater length of days; give us more vital energy, +let our limbs be mighty as those of the giants of old. Supplement +such organs with nobler mechanical engines--with extended means of +locomotion; add novel and more minute methods of analysis and +discovery. Let us become as demi-gods. And why not? Whoso gave the +gift of the mind gave also an infinite space, an infinite matter for +it to work upon, an infinite time in which to work. Let no one +presume to define the boundaries of that divine gift--that +mind--for all the experience of eight thousand years proves beyond a +question that the limits of its powers will never be reached, though +the human race dwell upon the globe for eternity. Up, then, and +labour: and let that labour be sound and holy. Not for immediate and +petty reward, not that the appetite or the vanity may be gratified, +but that the sum of human perfection may be advanced; labouring as +consecrated priests, for true science is religion. All is possible. +A grand future awaits the world. When man has only partially worked +out his own conceptions--when only a portion of what the mind +foresees and plans is realized--then already earth will be as a +paradise. + +Full of love and sympathy for this feeble ant climbing over grass +and leaf, for yonder nightingale pouring forth its song, feeling +a community with the finches, with bird, with plant, with animal, +and reverently studying all these and more--how is it possible +for the heart while thus wrapped up to conceive the desire of +crime? For ever anxious and labouring for perfection, shall the +soul, convinced of the divinity of its work, halt and turn aside +to fall into imperfection? Lying thus upon the rug under the +shadow of the oak and horse-chestnut-tree, full of the joy of +life--full of the joy which all organisms feel in living +alone--lifting the eye far, far above the sphere even of the sun, +shall we ever conceive the idea of murder, of violence, of aught +that degrades ourselves? It is impossible while in this frame. So +thus reclining, and thus occupied, we require no judge, no +prison, no law, no punishment--and, further, no army, no monarch. +At this moment, did neither of these institutions exist our +conduct would be the same. Our whole existence at this moment is +permeated with a reverent love, an aspiration--a desire of a more +perfect life; if the very name of religion was extinct, our +hopes, our wish would be the same. It is but a simple transition +to conclude that with more extended knowledge, with wider +sympathies, with greater powers--powers more equal to the vague +longings of their minds, the human race would be as we are at +this moment in the shadow of the chestnut-tree. No need of priest +and lawyer; no need of armies or kings. It is probable that with +the progress of knowledge it will be possible to satisfy the +necessary wants of existence much more easily than now, and thus +to remove one great cause of discord. And all these thoughts +because the passing shadow of a rook caused the eye to gaze +upwards into the deep azure of the sky. There is no limit, no +number to the thoughts which the study of nature may call forth, +any more than there is a limit to the number of the rays of the +sun. + +This blade of grass grows as high as it can, the nightingale there +sings as sweetly as it can, the goldfinches feed to their full +desire and lay down no arbitrary rules of life; the great sun above +pours out its heat and light in a flood unrestrained. What is the +meaning of this hieroglyph, which is repeated in a thousand thousand +other ways and shapes, which meets us at every turn? It is evident +that all living creatures, from the zoophyte upwards, plant, +reptile, bird, animal, and in his natural state--in his physical +frame--man also, strive with all their powers to obtain as perfect +an existence as possible. It is the one great law of their being, +followed from birth to death. All the efforts of the plant are put +forth to obtain more light, more air, more moisture--in a word, more +food--upon which to grow, expand, and become more beautiful and +perfect. The aim may be unconscious, but the result is evident. It +is equally so with the animal; its lowest appetites subserve the one +grand object of its advance. Whether it be eating, drinking, +sleeping, procreating, all tends to one end, a fuller development of +the individual, a higher condition of the species; still further, to +the production of new races capable of additional progress. Part and +parcel as we are of the great community of living beings, +indissolubly connected with them from the lowest to the highest by a +thousand ties, it is impossible for us to escape from the operation +of this law; or if, by the exertion of the will, and the resources +of the intellect, it is partially suspended, then the individual may +perhaps pass away unharmed, but the race must suffer. It is, rather, +the province of that inestimable gift, the mind, to aid nature, to +smooth away the difficulties, to assist both the physical and mental +man to increase his powers and widen his influence. Such efforts +have been made from time to time, but unfortunately upon purely +empirical principles, by arbitrary interference, without a long +previous study of the delicate organization it was proposed to +amend. If there is one thing our latter-day students have +demonstrated beyond all reach of cavil, it is that both the physical +and the mental man are, as it were, a mass of inherited +structures--are built up of partially absorbed rudimentary organs +and primitive conceptions, much as the trunks of certain trees are +formed by the absorption of the leaves. He is made up of the Past. +This is a happy and an inspiriting discovery, insomuch as it holds +out a resplendent promise that there may yet come a man of the +future made out of our present which will then be the past. It is a +discovery which calls upon us for new and larger moral and physical +exertion, which throws upon us wider and nobler duties, for upon us +depends the future. At one blow this new light casts aside those +melancholy convictions which, judging from the evil blood which +seemed to stain each new generation alike, had elevated into a faith +the depressing idea that man could not advance. It explains the +causes of that stain, the reason of those imperfections, not +necessary parts of the ideal man, but inherited from a lower order +of life, and to be gradually expunged. + +But this marvellous mystery of inheritance has brought with it a +series of mental instincts, so to say; a whole circle of ideas of +moral conceptions, in a sense belonging to the Past--ideas which +were high and noble in the rudimentary being, which were beyond the +capacity of the pure animal, but which are now in great part merely +obstructions to advancement. Let these perish. We must seek for +enlightenment and for progress, not in the dim failing traditions +of a period but just removed from the time of the rudimentary or +primeval man--we must no longer allow the hoary age of such +traditions to blind the eye and cause the knee to bend--we must no +longer stultify the mind by compelling it to receive as infallible +what in the very nature of things must have been fallible to the +highest degree. The very plants are wiser far. They seek the light +of to-day, the heat of the sun which shines at this hour; they make +no attempt to guide their life by the feeble reflection of rays +which were extinguished ages ago. This slender blade of grass, +beside the edge of our rug under the chestnut-tree, shoots upwards +in the fresh air of to-day; its roots draw nourishment from the +moisture of the dew which heaven deposited this morning. If it does +make use of the past--of the soil, the earth that has accumulated in +centuries--it is to advance its present growth. Root out at once and +for ever these primeval, narrow, and contracted ideas; fix the mind +upon the sun of the present, and prepare for the sun that must rise +to-morrow. It is our duty to develop both mind and body and soul to +the utmost: as it is the duty of this blade of grass and this +oak-tree to grow and expand as far as their powers will admit. But +the blade of grass and the oak have this great disadvantage to work +against--they can only labour in the lines laid down for them, and +unconsciously; while man can think, foresee, and plan. The greatest +obstacle to progress is the lack now beginning to be felt all over +the world, but more especially in the countries most highly +civilized, of a true ideal to work up to. It is necessary that some +far-seeing master-mind, some giant intellect, should arise, and +sketch out in bold, unmistakable outlines the grand and noble future +which the human race should labour for. There have been weak +attempts--there are contemptible makeshifts now on their trial, +especially in the new world--but the whole of these, without +exception, are simply diluted reproductions of systems long since +worn out. These can only last a little while; if anything, they are +worse than the prejudices and traditions which form the body of +wider-spread creeds. The world cries out for an intellect which +shall draw its inspiration from the unvarying and infallible laws +regulating the universe; which shall found its faith upon the +teaching of grass, of leaf, of bird, of beast, of hoary rock, great +ocean, star and sun; which shall afford full room for the +development of muscle, sense, and above all of the wondrous brain; +and which without fettering the individual shall secure the ultimate +apotheosis of the race. No such system can spring at once, complete, +perfect in detail, from any one mind. But assuredly when once a firm +basis has been laid down, when an outline has been drawn, the +converging efforts of a thousand thousand thinkers will be brought +to bear upon it, and it will be elaborated into something +approaching a reliable guide. The faiths of the past, of the ancient +world, now extinct or feebly lingering on, were each inspired by one +mind only. The faith of the future, in strong contrast, will spring +from the researches of a thousand thousand thinkers, whose minds, +once brought into a focus, will speedily burn up all that is +useless and worn out with a fierce heat, and evoke a new and +brilliant light. This converging thought is one of the greatest +blessings of our day, made possible by the vastly extended means of +communication, and almost seems specially destined for this very +purpose. Thought increases with the ages. At this moment there are +probably as many busy brains studying, reflecting, collecting +scattered truths, as there were thinkers--effectual thinkers--in +all the recorded eighty centuries gone by. Daily and hourly the +noble army swells its numbers, and the sound of its mighty march +grows louder; the inscribed roll of its victories fills the heart +with exultation. + +There is a slight rustle among the bushes and the fern upon the +mound. It is a rabbit who has peeped forth into the sunshine. His +eye opens wide with wonder at the sight of us; his nostrils work +nervously as he watches us narrowly. But in a little while the +silence and stillness reassure him; he nibbles in a desultory way at +the stray grasses on the mound, and finally ventures out into the +meadow almost within reach of the hand. It is so easy to make the +acquaintance--to make friends with the children of Nature. From the +tiniest insect upwards they are so ready to dwell in sympathy with +us--only be tender, quiet, considerate, in a word, _gentlemanly_, +towards them and they will freely wander around. And they have all +such marvellous tales to tell--intricate problems to solve for us. +This common wild rabbit has an ancestry of almost unsearchable +antiquity. Within that little body there are organs and structures +which, rightly studied, will throw a light upon the mysteries hidden +in our own frames. It is a peculiarity of this search that nothing +is despicable; nothing can be passed over--not so much as a fallen +leaf, or a grain of sand. Literally everything bears stamped upon it +characters in the hieratic, the sacred handwriting, not one word of +which shall fall to the ground. + +Sitting indoors, with every modern luxury around, rich carpets, +artistic furniture, pictures, statuary, food and drink brought from +the uttermost ends of the earth, with the telegraph, the +printing-press, the railway at immediate command, it is easy to say, +'What have _I_ to do with all this? I am neither an animal nor a +plant, and the sun is nothing to me. This is _my_ life which I have +created; I am apart from the other inhabitants of the earth.' But go +to the window. See--there is but a thin, transparent sheet of +brittle glass between the artificial man and the air, the light, the +trees, and grass. So between him and the other innumerable organisms +which live and breathe there is but a thin feeble crust of prejudice +and social custom. Between him and those irresistible laws which +keep the sun upon its course there is absolutely no bar whatever. +Without air he cannot live. Nature cannot be escaped. Then face the +facts, and having done so, there will speedily arise a calm pleasure +beckoning onwards. + +The shadows of the oak and chestnut-tree no longer shelter our rug; +the beams of the noonday sun fall vertically on us; we will leave +the spot for a while. The nightingale and the goldfinches, the +thrushes and blackbirds, are silent for a time in the sultry heat. +But they only wait for the evening to burst forth in one exquisite +chorus, praising this wondrous life and the beauties of the earth. + + + + +THE DAWN + + +There came to my bedside this morning a visitant that has been +present at the bedside of everyone who has lived for ten thousand +years. In the darkness I was conscious of a faint light not visible +if I looked deliberately to find it, but seen sideways, and where I +was not gazing. It slipped from direct glance as a shadow may slip +from a hand-grasp, but it was there floating in the atmosphere of +the room. I could not say that it shone on the wall or lit the +distant corner. Light is seen by reflection, but this light was +visible of itself like a living thing, a visitant from the unknown. +The dawn was in the chamber, and by degrees this intangible and +slender existence would enlarge and deepen into day. Ever since I +used to rise early to bathe, or shoot, or see the sunrise, the habit +has remained of waking at the same hour, so that I see the dawn +morning after morning, though I may sleep again immediately. +Sometimes the change of the seasons makes it broad sunlight, +sometimes it is still dark; then again the faint grey light is +there, and I know that the distant hills are becoming defined along +the sky. But though so familiar, that spectral light in the silence +has never lost its meaning, the violets are sweet year by year +though never so many summers pass away; indeed, its meaning grows +wider and more difficult as the time goes on. For think, this +spectre of the light--light's double-ganger--has stood by the couch +of every human being for thousands and thousands of years. Sleeping +or waking, happily dreaming, or wrenched with pain, whether they +have noticed it or not, the finger of this light has pointed towards +them. When they were building the pyramids, five thousand years ago, +straight the arrow of light shot from the sun, lit their dusky +forms, and glowed on the endless sand. Endless as that desert sand +may be, innumerable in multitude its grains, there was and is a ray +of light for each. A ray for every invisible atom that dances in +the air--for the million million changing facets of the million +ocean waves. Immense as these numbers may be, they are not +incomprehensible. The priestess at Delphi in her moment of +inspiration declared that she knew the number of the sands. Such +number falls into insignificance before the mere thought of light, +its speed, its quantity, its existence over space, and yet the idea +of light is easy to the mind. The mind is the priestess of the +Delphic temple of our bodies, and sees and understands things for +which language is imperfect, and notation deficient. There is a +secret alphabet in it to every letter of which we unconsciously +assign a value, just as the mathematician may represent a thousand +by the letter A. In my own mind the idea of light is associated with +the colour yellow, not the yellow of the painters, or of flowers, +but a quick flash. This quick bright flash of palest yellow in the +thousandth of an instant reminds me, or rather conveys in itself, +the whole idea of light--the accumulated idea of study and thought. +I suppose it to be a memory of looking at the sun--a quick glance at +the sun leaves something such an impression on the retina. With that +physical impression all the calculations that I have read, and all +the ideas that have occurred to me, are bound up. It is the +sign--the letter--the expression of light. To the builders of the +pyramids came the arrow from the sun, tinting their dusky forms, and +glowing in the sand. To me it comes white and spectral in the +silence, a finger pointed, a voice saying, 'Even now you know +nothing.' Five thousand years since they were fully persuaded that +they understood the universe, the course of the stars, and the +secrets of life and death. What did they know of the beam of light +that shone on the sonorous lap of their statue Memnon? The +telescope, the microscope, and the prism have parted light and +divided it, till it seems as if further discovery were impossible. +This beam of light brings an account of the sun, clear as if written +in actual letters, for example stating that certain minerals are as +certainly there as they are here. But when in the silence I see the +pale visitant at my bedside, and the mind rushes in one spring back +to the builders of the pyramids who were equally sure with us, the +thought will come to me that even now there may be messages in that +beam undeciphered. With a turn of the heliograph, a mere turn of +the wrist, a message is easily flashed twenty miles to the observer. +You cannot tell what knowledge may not be pouring down in every ray; +messages that are constant and perpetual, the same from age to age. +These are physical messages. There is beyond this just a possibility +that beings in distant earths possessed of greater knowledge than +ourselves may be able to transmit their thoughts along, or by the +ray, as we do along wires. In the days to come, when a deeper +insight shall have been gained into the motions and properties of +those unseen agents we call forces, such as magnetism, electricity, +gravitation, perhaps a method will be devised to use them for +communication. If so, communication with distant earths is quite +within reasonable hypothesis. At this hour it is not more impossible +than the transmission of a message to the antipodes in a few minutes +would have been to those who lived a century since. The inhabitants +of distant earths may have endeavoured to communicate with us in +this way for ought we know time after time. Such a message is +possibly contained sometimes in the pale beam which comes to my +bedside. That beam always impresses me with a profound, an intense +and distressful sense of ignorance, of being outside the +intelligence of the universe, as if there were a vast civilization +in view and yet not entered. Mere villagers and rustics creeping +about a sullen earth, we know nothing of the grandeur and +intellectual brilliance of that civilization. This beam fills me +with unutterable dissatisfaction. Discontent, restless longing, +anger at the denseness of the perception, the stupidity with which +we go round and round in the old groove till accident shows us a +fresh field. Consider, all that has been wrested from light has been +gained by mere bits of glass. Mere bits of glass in curious +shapes--poor feeble glass, quickly broken, made of flint, of the +flint that mends the road. To this almost our highest conceptions +are due. Could we employ the ocean as a lens we might tear truth +from the sky. Could the greater intelligences that dwell on the +planets and stars communicate with us, they might enable us to +conquer the disease and misery which bear down the masses of the +world. Perhaps they do not die. The pale visitor hints that the +stars are not the outside and rim of the universe, any more than the +edge of horizon is the circumference of our globe. Beyond the +star-stratum, what? Mere boundless space. Mind says certainly not. +What then? At present we cannot conceive a universe without a +central solar orb for it to gather about and swing around. But that +is only because hitherto our positive, physical knowledge has gone +no farther. It can as yet only travel as far as this, as analogous +beams of light. Light comes from the uttermost bounds of our star +system--to that rim we can extend a positive thought. Beyond, and +around it, whether it is solid, or fluid, or ether, or whether, as +is most probable, there exist things absolutely different to any +that have come under eyesight yet is not known. May there not be +light we cannot see? Gravitation is an unseen light; so too +magnetism; electricity or its effect is sometimes visible, sometimes +not. Besides these there may be more delicate forces not +instrumentally demonstrable. A force, or a wave, or a motion--an +unseen light--may at this moment be flowing in upon us from that +unknown space without and beyond the stellar system. It may contain +messages from thence as this pale visitant does from the sun. It may +outstrip light in speed as light outstrips an arrow. The more +delicate, the more ethereal, then the fuller and more varied the +knowledge it holds. There may be other things beside matter and +motion, or force. All natural things known to us as yet may be +referred to those two conditions: One, Force; Two, Matter. A third, +a fourth, a fifth--no one can say how many conditions--may exist in +the ultra-stellar space, beyond the most distant stars. Such a +condition may even be about us now unsuspected. Something which is +neither force nor matter is difficult to conceive; the mind cannot +give it tangible shape even as a thought. Yet I think it more than +doubtful if the entire universe, visible and invisible, is composed +of these two. To me it seems almost demonstrable by rational +induction that the entire universe must consist of more than two +conditions. The grey dawn every morning warns me not to be certain +that all is known. Analysis by the prism alone has quite doubled the +knowledge that was previously available. In the light itself there +may still exist as much more to be learnt, and then there may be +other forces and other conditions to be first found out and next to +tell their story. As at present known the whole system is so easy +and simple, one body revolving round another, and so on; it is as +easy to understand as the motion of a stone that has been thrown. +This simplicity makes me misdoubt. Is it all? Space--immeasurable +space--offers such possibilities that the mind is forced to the +conclusion that it is not, that there must be more. I cannot think +that the universe can be so very very easy as this. + + +BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Hills and the Vale, by Richard Jefferies + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HILLS AND THE VALE *** + +***** This file should be named 31710-8.txt or 31710-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/1/31710/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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