Toilers of Babylon: A Novel

CHAPTER XXXII

From the day of its formation the Wilberforce Club had prospered, and although it could never boast of more than sufficient funds to carry out its modest requirements, the principal of which were books and newspapers, it had become in some sense a political power in the district. As was right, Mr. Bartholomew, to whom its existence was due, was elected its first president, a position which he filled for many years; but although he was still in vigor of life, he had resolved to retire from the office, and, in spite of all attempts to induce him to withdraw his resignation, he insisted that it was time a new president should be appointed.

"You want new blood, my lads," he said; "you might as well have a king over you as a president who reigns all the years of his life. A stirring up of the waters is good for the people. If the new man doesn't work to your satisfaction I will take office again, perhaps. The vacation will rub the rust off me."

It was, therefore, for the purpose of choosing another president that the Wilberforce Club mustered in full force. It was bruited about, and indeed known to some few, that there was a likelihood of the introduction of a personal matter at the meeting which might prove exciting and interesting. Mr. Bartholomew had found it no easy task to keep well in hand a strong and full-blooded team such as the members of this working-man's club. Boys with ideas, and with a fresher and more advanced kind of education than their parents had received, had grown to be men, and were playing their part at the club meetings and in the social gatherings; and to this younger element the prospect of a change in the direction of affairs was not unpalatable. Upon Mr. Bartholomew the necessity of keeping a tight hand upon these youthful members, whose ideas were apt to run ahead of the times, had frequently impressed itself.

There were two candidates for the presidency. One was Mr. Richard Chappel, who had taken part in the initiatory meeting at which the club was constituted. He was then somewhat of a timid orator, but he was an apt scholar, and was now fully competent to conduct working-men's meetings. He was fairly popular, and had many supporters. The other candidate was Kingsley Manners, who was popular, and a favorite with all the members of the Wilberforce Club. By some he was considered not strict or strong enough to lead, but a good proportion of those who entertained this notion had determined to support him. It was not of his own wish that he had come forward for the office. He had been proposed by a powerful section who believed that through him it could work its own ends. The backbone of this section were the young members, who were always ready to take a foremost part in any agitation-such as entertainments, in the heart of which lurked some political object: processions against, or in favor of, some measure which was then being discussed in the House of Commons; the right of public meeting in public places, and so forth. These ambitious and hot-blooded members had been kept in moderate subjection by Mr. Bartholomew, and now rejoiced in the prospect of a president of less force of character.

Nansie's uncle, Mr. Loveday, was also a member of the Wilberforce. He had joined it at Nansie's solicitation, who was in anxiety lest Kingsley, through his easy nature, should be prevailed upon to take part in some violent movement. Mr. Loveday's reports to her had removed this cause of alarm.

"Kingsley does no harm at the club," he said; "it is an amusement and a relaxation to him. He knows that he is liked by all the members, and the knowledge affords him pleasure; and he obtains there books and papers which occupy his mind, and which otherwise would be out of his reach."

Kingsley's candidature for the presidency had, however, seriously discomposed Mr. Loveday. He saw beneath the surface, and suspected that Kingsley was simply put forward to assist the views of others.

Mr. Bartholomew opened the proceedings.

"You know," he said, "what we are met to decide. This is the last occasion-at least, for some time-upon which I shall take the chair at the gatherings of the Wilberforce; but that will not lessen my interest in its welfare, and I shall work quite as hard and earnestly as a soldier in the ranks as I have done in the position of your chief. Now, I want to give you a little bit of advice. Times are different from when this club was first started; men and opinions are more advanced; there is a better kind of education going on in the land, and people who, under the old ways, would never have learned to read and write can now do both very well. But I want to warn you. It's a good thing to be able to read and write, but it's a better thing to be able to profit by these advantages. Go ahead we must; the onward march cannot be stopped; but beware of going ahead too fast. Slow and sure is a motto I was not very fond of when I was a young man, but I have learned its value since, especially in such movements as ours. There is no telling what changes the next fifty years may see; in my opinion they will be more startling than any that has gone before; but in order that these changes shall be for the real benefit of the people-that is to say, of us-it will be necessary to look before we leap. Now, I am not going to particularize; I am speaking in a general sense. There are individual instances of wrong with which I sympathize as much as any of you can do, but I don't intend to make any such instance a ground for general action. What we have to attend to is the interest and prosperity of ourselves as a body. According to the rules, you are now to elect a president for the year. You have done me the honor of re-electing me again and again for a number of years, and I believe I have given you satisfaction. I hope that our new president will work as I have done-for the general good of all."

Mr. Bartholomew having resumed his seat, a member rose to propose Mr. Richard Chappel as president. He was duly seconded, and then another member proposed Mr. Kingsley Manners, who was also seconded. There being no other candidates, the aspirants for office addressed the meeting:

"I propose," said Mr. Chappel, "to tread in the footsteps of our late worthy president, Mr. Bartholomew. I quite agree with him in all his opinions, and all he has done. More haste, less speed. We have never been in a hurry, and we have done a good deal since we started. In elections we have made ourselves a bit of a power, and the reason of this is that we have always seen where we were going to fix our nails; we have not knocked them wildly about, and made holes in wrong places. If you elect me as your president, I will do the best I can in the office."

"Good," said Mr. Bartholomew.

"Good," also said and thought many of the elder members; but the younger ones looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Richard Chappel promises nothing," said one, starting up.

"What do you want him to promise?" asked Mr. Bartholomew; and, as young Hotblood could not exactly say, he sat down abashed, but in no wise satisfied.

"That is it," said Mr. Bartholomew; "and I should like you to bear it in mind. I don't wish to influence you, nor to say a word against Mr. Kingsley Manners, who is a favorite with all of us; but as a common member of the club I am entitled, as every other common member is, to express my opinion upon this subject. Here is a candidate for office, Mr. Richard Chappel, who pledges himself, if elected, to govern the club in the same way that it has hitherto been governed; and here is one of our members jumping up and saying that he promises nothing. To that I reply that Richard Chappel promises a great deal. He promises to do everything that is constitutional; he promises to act for the benefit of the club, as I have acted. If that doesn't satisfy you, I don't know what will. Mind, I'm not saying one word against Mr. Manners; I respect and like him, but I shall give my vote to Richard Chappel."

"Let us hear Mr. Manners," said a member.

Kingsley rose and addressed the meeting. He had for some little while past regarded this approaching event as of great importance, and had prepared himself for it. He said he was in favor of public meeting in all public spaces. He spoke strongly against the monopoly of brewers and distillers. He advocated universal suffrage, and he characterized as infamous the neglect of sanitary laws in the dwellings of the people. The whole aim of government, he said, should be for the benefit of the many, and not of the few. There were old-time privileges which, perhaps, could not be suddenly abolished, but to which, at all events, a limit should be set. He spoke for half an hour, and the tenor of his observations may be gathered from this brief description. When he sat down some were pleased, some were displeased, and some did not know exactly what to think.

"Mr. Manners," said Mr. Bartholomew, "has generalized almost as much as Richard Chappel."

"No," cried some of Kingsley's supporters; "there is a great difference between them."

"Let us hear and discuss," said Mr. Bartholomew; "it will open our minds."

"What does Richard Chappel say about universal suffrage?" asked a member.

Richard Chappel scratched his head. He had not given the subject that necessary consideration which enabled him to reply on the instant. Up jumped Mr. Bartholomew.

"I like that hesitation on Richard Chappel's part," he said. "Universal suffrage has bothered cleverer heads than any in this room."

"What do you say about it?" asked a bold member. Mr. Bartholomew laughed.

"I would give it to every man who has a right to it."

"Every man has a right to it!"

"No, no; there must be qualifications. The Reform Act did a lot for us, and a lot has been done since, and a lot more will be done in the future. There must be electoral qualification. Even in our little club here every man has not a right to become a member. The difference between some of us is this-we agree upon the main point, but we do not agree in the way of bringing it about. 'Go slow' is my motto."

"Yes," grumbled one, "and die before we reap."

"Perhaps," said Mr. Bartholomew, gravely. "But does that lessen the value of our work, which, I take it, lies greatly in its unselfishness? We look more to the future than to the present. We think of our children and of the benefits they will enjoy, benefits brought about by us who may not live to see the fruit."

Much discussion of a similar nature followed, and it seemed likely at one time that the result would be largely influenced by the private wrongs of a member who had resolved to take this opportunity of ventilating them, and had, indeed, been urged to that course by the more inflammatory spirits. His story was not an uncommon one, and may be narrated in a very few words. He was a working-man, of course, with one child, a daughter whom he idolized. This daughter, to his grief and despair, had left her home; and it was, the father said, a gentleman who had brought the shame upon them. The man was very eloquent in his description of the monstrous wrong. He did not know the name or the whereabouts of the villain who had inflicted it, and said that if he could find him he would strike him dead at his feet. Mr. Bartholomew was too wise to prevent the father from speaking, although he strongly disapproved of the intrusion of this private matter into the club business; but he saw that it had been prearranged, and was intended to influence the election in favor of Kingsley. As a prudent general, therefore, he proposed the adjournment of the meeting, which broke up in some slight confusion.

CHAPTER XXXIII

This meeting led to important results. It is by small and apparently trivial matters that the main issues of life are determined. A fall of rain, the plucking of a flower, the accidental turning to the right or the left-any one of these trifling incidents is sufficient to stamp the future with an indelible impress.

Parkinson was the name of the man whose daughter had been tempted from her home by the false wooing of a man in a superior station of life to her own; the daughter's name was Mary. The disclosure of this private wrong proved to be the most exciting incident in the proceedings of the Wilberforce Club on the night of the proposed election, and after the meeting broke up the grievance formed the subject of animated discussion all around the neighborhood. To feel and express sympathy for the father was humanly natural, but here and there this sympathy was expressed in an unreasoning and dangerous manner, and served as a peg-as was attempted at the Wilberforce-upon which to hang an ominous string of hardships as between class and class. Dr. Perriera, who had remained a firm and faithful friend to Nansie and her family, had just listened to certain outpourings of this nature mouthed by a trenchant demagogue to a small band of working-men and lads, among whom, also, was Mr. Loveday. These two more intelligent of the audience walked away together.

"It is remarkable," said Dr. Perriera, "to note the blindness of these ignorant orators to palpable facts. The way in which Mary Parkinson was brought up was enough to ruin any girl. A father at work all day and spending his nights at the Wilberforce Club. A mother dying when her daughter was twelve years of age, and leaving as a legacy to her child a recollection of frivolities. This was one of the reasons-perhaps the principal one-why Parkinson spent nearly all his leisure time away from his home. His wife had no notion of domestic duties, was a bad cook, and either would not or could not make his home attractive to him. Parkinson is a good and skilful workman, has never been ill a week in his life, has never been out of employment. This is an unusual record, but it has not benefited him. When his wife was alive she and he between them spent every penny of his earnings; she was fond of incongruous color in her dress, fond of mock jewelry, fond of aping the foolish fashions of her betters. She was fond of worse things-of music-halls and their brutalizing vulgarity. I am well aware that it is absolutely necessary to provide amusement for the people; without it life would be unendurable; but I have always been of the opinion, and experience has confirmed it, that amusement in a worse form than that provided by the music-hall could scarcely be devised. I speak of the entertainments as a whole. There are portions of them which are innocently amusing and healthful, but the most popular features are those which the exponents of coarseness and vulgarity provide. I had some opportunity of studying Mrs. Parkinson's character, and I know that it was this coarser element of the entertainments that attracted her. I frequently heard her singing verses of songs which, I regret to say, were and are popular, and the true meaning of which is an offence to decency. The mischief is that this moral poison is at the bottom of the cup; but it is well known to be there by everybody who partakes of it; and even when it is so cleverly veiled that it can only be conveyed by a motion or a gesture, this form of expression is carried away by the audience and used by them when they sing the song in private. It is to Parkinson's credit that he preferred the Wilberforce Club to the music-hall; but it is not to his credit that he left the entire social education and recreation of his daughter to one so unfitted for these duties as his wife. I would not make life too serious, but I refuse to excuse any person who ignores its responsibility. Parkinson allowed his wife to take their little Mary to the music-halls, and to implant in her nature a foundation of frivolity which has borne bad fruit; it could not be hoped that it would bear good."