Speeches and addresses

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Contents

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THE FIRST VOLUME

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II The Needs Of Gbeat Towns —mechanics'

INSTITUTIONS- CABEEBS OPEN TO ABILITY

Bolton : October 1855

I ASSURE you that it is with a feeling of singular, and more than usual, interest that I find myself now, for the first time, present and taking a public part in the affairs of a town whose name is connected with that which I bear by an historical reminiscence at once melancholy and ennobling. And I confess that I cannot accept unmoved the welcome offered me by so many inhabitants of this great manufacturing borough — one which, from the days when the emigrant Flemings settled here, five hundred years ago, bringing with them the industrial skill and enterprise which they were not permitted to display unmolested at home, down to that time, almost within the memory of some n»w living, when Arkwright and Crompton here worked out those important mechanical discoveries which, directly or indirectly, have made every one in this room richer than they would have been without them — this borough, I say, which from ancient to the present time has not only held its ground and maintained its position against a local competition as severe as that to which any community was ever exposed, but has progressed with a rapidity which is beyond the usual rate of progress, even in this county of Lancashire.

And passing on from what is merely personal, either to you or to myself, I will say that in these Lancashire towns — in these great industrial communities throughout that entire district which acknowledges Manchester as its centre — which may be almost regarded as one continuous town, and which.

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SO regarded, exceeds in population and productive power London itself — there exists a more vigorous vitality and a more morally healthy life than among any other portion, be it what it may, of English society. Life is more earnest — industry more intense — thought more free: mere externals and conventionalities occupy a smaller share of men's time and thoughts. It is not amongst you an honour and a distinction to be idle ; you not only admit, but practically act upon and enforce, the truth that, whoever — not being mentally or physically disqualified — lives disengaged from any active pursuit, is thereby wronging his own nature — leaving undeveloped the best of its faculties, and failing to fulfil those obhgations which we all owe to the society of which we are members.

Whatever faults there are in the social system of these districts — and I am not here merely to flatter or compliment any man or any class at the expense of others — are due in great part to the very energy and activity which have made Lancashire what it is, and to the extreme rapidity with which material and commercial progress has advanced. I will say frankly — for you love plain dealing, and can afford to hear the truth spoken — what it is that I mean. I mean that notwithstanding great q,nd laudable efforts on the part of individuals, aided by the sympathy and approval of all, not quite enough has yet been done in Lancashire — I say yet, and I lay emphasis on the word, for much is doing now^ — for the common social benefit of all classes, and particularly for that of the less wealthy class.

There are some institutions — there are some public works, which no well-ordered town of any magnitude ought to be without, but which there has scarcely been leisure fully to attend to in these localities, where that which fifty years ago was a village is now a city. In the first place, no town should be without accommodation, in some place of worship, for as many of its inhabitants as can reasonably be expected to attend. That is obvious, and I pass it by the more readily as, in that respect, judging from a hasty survey, Bolton

THE NEEDS OF GREAT TOWNS 9

appears to be amply provided. Again, there ought to be room in your schools for every child between the ages of five and fifteen ; and not only room, but some effort made — I dare say it is made — by organisation among the wealthy, to get the children sent ; and, still more, there should be a constant local vigilance and superintendence to see that the teaching is good in quality as well as sufficient in quantity. Here, again, there can be no ground of dispute, and I only indicate in passing that upon which it would be superfluous to dwell. Thirdly — and to this I beg to call attention — it is wrong that thirty thousand — fifty thousand — or sixty thousand, as here — even in some places one hundred thousand human beings, should be cooped up in one spot without something in the nature of a park or public gardens, in which children and boys may have their outdoor amusements, and grown men and women take exercise and breathe the air of heaven as little obscured by smoke as may be. In this particular Manchester has set a good example ; Liverpool, I am told, means to do the same ; and Preston has made up its mind not to be left far behind. Fourthly, you require a free pubHc rate-supported library, in a central position, with means of distributing and circulating its books within convenient distances, and on a scale commensurate with the wants of the town in which it is set up. In this respect — as I dare say in others, for I wish it to be understood that these remarks are merely general — there is no deficiency here. And it is within my personal knowledge that the energy and public spirit displayed in Bolton have operated, and are now operating, on at least two of the other neighbouring towns. Pifth in the list of requirements I place public baths and washhouses. On these I do not dilate, for they have been pretty generally established, and it would be an insult to an intelligent audience to expatiate upon the benefits of soap and water. You have them in this town, and I can only express a hope that the attempt may be as successful as it deserves to be. Sixthly, you require places of amusement — of recreation and refreshment — for working men. I am not now speaking

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of instruction — that is a separate matter — but I mean places such as news-rooms and refreshment-rooms combined in one, with a few books accessible — a kind of poor man's club, where he may find all the comforts of a public-house without its attendant evils — and where he may neither be exposed to temptation on the one hand, nor on the other feel himself under any such constraint as is imposed by the presence of persons whose habits of life are different. Such places of entertainment have been and are being established in various parts of the country, both urban and rural ; and where they exist, and where the management has been judicious, I believe no more effectual rival to the public-house can be set up, and no heavier blow inflicted upon that which I am afraid is our national vice — intemperance. Lastly, and you will be glad to hear I have arrived at the end of this long catalogue of desiderata, I would tell you emphatically that no urban community can be complete — can be furnished with all these appliances of civilisation which the habits of the times and country require — which does not contain some institution for the promotion of adult learning like that whose second foundation we celebrate this evening.

If in every Lancashire town — for speaking here I address others besides the immediate inhabitants of Bolton — these various wants were supplied — if the same spirit were everywhere exhibited which has dictated these vast and costly improvements on which the authorities of this town are even now engaged, we should not see, as in some parts of this county we are too apt to do now, side by side with the most wonderful results of inventive talent and the most assiduous display of industry, signs of neglect in many common matters affecting domestic comfort. Streets crowded every evening with operatives, who lounge there literally because they have no other place to resort to, except the public-house or the comfortless lodging — dirty, untaught children swarming about the puddles and gutters — smoke in the air above — mud on the ground below — and a gin-shop or beer-shop at every corner. Now I know there are circumstances in our mode of

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life in this part of England which have a peculiar tendency to destroy or weaken — at least among one class — all local attachments. I allude especially to that continual movement of the population — that influx and efflux which is constantly taking place, dependent upon commercial success or failure — the extent of which is hardly known or regarded. For instance, I look for Bolton in the census of 1851, and find that, of 61,000 inhabitants there set down, only 36,000 were returned as born in the town itself; 16,000 more as born within the limits of the county, but not in the town ; while 9,000 were strangers altogether. That is a state of things not favourable to local patriotism. But, be it so or otherwise, the capitalists of this town, and of others similarly situated, know both their duty and their interest far too well to ignore that moral tie — that tie of common interest and common prosperity, which inevitably results from, and is inseparably connected with, the bond of pecuniary connection.

We live in a new age ; the conditions of society are changed ; there is no longer a recognised dependence of man Upon man — a recognised claim to obedience on the one hand, and to protection on the other. Those days have passed away, and it is vain and idle, even were it desirable, to think of restoring them. But one risk, one danger to which we are now exposed in that higher social state upon which England is entering, is that of carrying into social science the idea, the maxim, which economically is true, but true only in the strict economical sense — namely, that the relations of employer and employed — of the poor and of the wealthy — can be regulated only by the principle of supply and demand. That is not morally true, and never can be ; and our present state in regard to that question is merely one of transition — one which will last only until the relations of mankind under the altered circumstances of this century are better understood.

Do not imagine for a moment, from anything I have said, that I wish to reproach manufacturing employers with any indifference to the welfare of the multitudes among whom

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they live. I know that it is far otherwise. I have seen it in a hundred instances ; and, if a comparison were drawn between the state of the manufacturing and agricultural population, I apprehend there is little doubt which would have the advantage. I speak not in reproach, but in envy — in envy of the advantages enjoyed by those who can deal with a large and intelligent population concentrated within a narrow space. In rural districts, do what you will, it is not easy to set up a club, a school, a library, an institute, on any but the smallest scale — distances are too great — population is too sparse — there is not the same habit of acting in concert — a thousand obstacles exist of which you fortunately know nothing here. Therefore, all that I contend for is, not that little has been done, but that there exists an opportunity, of which I am sure advantage will be taken, of doing more.

I must ask you to pardon me this digression ; and, returning to the immediate occasion of this assemblage, let us consider what are mechanics' institutions. What at their outset were they meant to be, and what may they become ? Of these institutions, taking altogether large and small, rich and poor, flourishing and depressed, there are now in the United Kingdom about 900, perhaps rather more. All date within the present century — most within the last twenty-five years ; they are increasing still, and probably will increase, until no town or large village remains unprovided in this respect. But it would be idle to deny that, in general, the quality of the teaching given is insufficient, whatever may be the case with its amount. They are not what they ought to be — not what they were meant to be — not what they may be made.

What is the reason of it ? It is best to look all faults and all difficulties in the face, for thus only can we find a remedy. First, I would observe, that circumstances have materially altered. Thirty — twenty years ago — there were no public libraries, no museums, no lecture-halls, no news-rooms for the people — scarcely a school except the village school, where the mere rudiments of instruction, reading and writing, were

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acquired. All those various purposes had to be served, all those objects accomplished, by one and the same agency. To a great extent it is so still, though the necessity no longer exists ; and thus it comes to pass that funds, originally small, have been dispersed and divided among many plans — all good in themselves — until not enough is left to carry out any effectually. Now in that respect, again, the requirements of the time have changed. Your town has now, what all should have, a free public library. The need, therefore, for a large collection of books in direct connection with the Mechanics' Institute is less pressing. News-rooms, again, at a low price, have been opened in many places — I do not know whether it is so here — and found to answer as separate concerns. Lecturing, though to a certain extent it holds its ground, has fallen considerably in public esteem as a means of teaching. Some years ago the public were wearied, and not much instructed, by many itinerant teachers, who went about the country rather advertising themselves than really diffusing knowledge, and mere single desultory discourses on miscellaneous subjects are now in small request. The special function of mechanics' institutions is therefore confined, owing to the causes I have named, within comparatively narrow limits. They must take new grounds, make their duties more definite than hitherto, or prepare for a competition which it is not probable they can sustain. They ought to be, in fact, provincial colleges for those who want the leisure and the means to complete their education elsewhere than in their own neighbourhood.

And now, feehng that I have long occupied your time, and wishing to draw to a close, I ask indulgence only for a few words more. It is not at this time nor in this place that I would touch on matters of national concern. Zeal will be impetuous in a good cause, and talent loves to display itself in controversy ; but true wisdom is peaceable ; and we meet here to seek occasion for agreement, not difference. Therefore it is that subjects which relate to the government and

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administration of this realm are both by rule, and by that common miderstanding which is better than rule, banished from these our meetings. But there is one principle of administration — a principle which in theory, and in the abstract, indeed, has always been allowed, though only of late attempted to be embodied in any legislative act — so closely connected with the object of institutions like these, that to allude to its application is natural and a part of my duty. I mean the principle laid down by the first Napoleon — than whom no man applied it more largely, and to whose marvellous success it contributed in no small degree — that of an open career offered to merit and talent. I mean that principle which has equality and justice for its basis, not an impossible and a tyrannical equality of social status as between man and man, but equal chances given, equal opportunities afforded, equal favour shown to all whose ambition or patriotism aspu'es to distinction in the service of England. I mean that principle which admonishes the wealthy and the powerful, that in the career of open intellectual competition neither riches nor influence nor connection will avail them anything ; and which says to the poor and friendless candidate — friendless, but conscious of abilities which demand only scope for action — ' Eely neither on the patronage of the powerful, nor yet on that popular favour which is so often ill bestowed — but trust to the keenness of your own intellect, to the strength of your own will, to the perseverance which, shrinking not from long and monotonous labour, endures to the end — and be sure that those qualities — their existence in you once proved under a system framed expressly to develop and call them forth — will be duly recognised and amply rewarded.' That is Ihe principle set forth by those who have of late years taken in hand to reform the civil administration of the country. No doubt there are difficulties in the way of its application — difficulties exaggerated by prejudice and by the natural dread of what is new and untried — but still difficulties needing to be well weighed and carefully considered. But in the admission and recognition of the principle itself there is,

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apart from the details which may be necessary for its successful working, an actual present gain to society, and a glorious promise of future progress.

No nation can be politically safe — no community can be said to rest on a sound social basis — where intellect and ambition — legitimate ambition — fail to find a free upward course. The strongest mind must always rule ; the question is only whether it shall rule by means allowed or by means forbidden. Trouble and discontent, in all ages and in all countries, have arisen far less from the physical sufferings of the masses than from the thwarted and bafSed desires of an aspiring few. Those desires and that ambition are to be guided, not depressed. They are useful — they are nationally honourable — they are a public benefit where a channel has been provided for them to flow in ; and only in the absence of such a channel — only when they are left to find or make their own course — do they become dangerous. I say, then, on every ground, whether of individual or of national advantage — as a matter of justice — for the sake of education — for the sake of political stability — it should be the policy of those who govern to stimulate by inducements and to reward by employment the acquisition and display of mental power in whatever class. But while I speak of that new incentive to Study and self-culture — for as such it will be felt by thousands— I am far from saying that it ought to be, or will be, an incentive to all ; and I do say that not to any one should it be put forward as the sole or leading motive. There is an old fable — you know it well — of one who, obeying instructions left in his father's will, dug over his whole estate in search of buried treasure. The treasure was not there, but the harvest repaid him. And so to you, I say, though knowledge may not bring the wealth which many expect, nor the fame and advancement which some, perhaps, desire, it will bring, in the mere fact of its possession, a worthier recompense than these, and none who seek it will ever have cause to complain or to say—' I have laboured in vain.'

III MISS NIGHTINGALE— WOMAN'S WOBK Manchester : Januaby 1856

When one of the first authors of this project requested me to give it, by public speech or otherwise, such aid as was in my power, I accepted the offer very gladly, because it seemed to me to involve the fulfilment of two duties : one appealing to the intellect, the other to the feelings ; one the duty of gratitude and recognition for public services rendered, the other, that of aiding, according to our means, an important and promising social movement.

It can be shown, I think, that the Nightingale fund attains both these objects. Of the service rendered by Miss Nightingale to our army in the field it is quite too late to speak. There is no part of England, no city or county, scarcely a considerable village, where some cottage household has not been comforted amidst its mourning for the loss of one who had fallen in war, by the assurance that his last moments were watched, and his worst sufferings soothed, by that care, at once tender and skilful, which no man, and few women, could have shown. But it is not merely individuals who have been thus helped. The State also has received benefit, and that to a degree which we hardly appreciate ; for where a danger has been warded off, its magnitude is seldom realised.

The present war — if the rumour which has just reached me be true, I hope I may say the past war ; I do not refer to it for any purpose that can provoke controversy or contradiction — has been commenced and carried on under new conditions of society. In all past wars waged abroad little was known,

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at least to the masses, respecting the everyday details of life before the enemy. Men who stayed at home read of battles won, or towns taken, skilful manoeuvres of generals, and daring acts of personal courage performed by soldiers ; but never since man began to live and fight on earth (two events nearly contemporaneous) has the entire existence of an army, its daily domestic life, been sketched for the satisfaction of those who stayed behind in England. The newspaper correspondence from the Crimea, with its benefits and its abuses, is a feature of war singularly characteristic .of our time, and impossible in any other. What was the effect of these disclosures? They dispelled a good many illusions — they stripped war of much of its romance, and showed beneath a splendid exterior scenes painful and horrible ; they told the masses of this country, the class from which soldiers are taken, fairly what they had to expect, and thus enabled them, before deciding to serve, to make an intelligent and not a blind choice. Well, then, under these circumstances it was no slight service to the State as such, no slight aid given to the country in the crisis of its struggle, that the recruit here in England should know and feel that wherever else apathy, or ignorance, or carelessness might prevail, there was one condition of his military career, and that the most trying of all, in which his sufferings would not be overlooked, and his wants would be efficiently cared for. But more than this — and without reference to the special emergencies of the time — I believe most of those who have thought on social subjects will incline to confirm the last words of that good man, Talfourd, to the effect that the disunion of classes is the worst evil of modern society. Now, what causes that disunion ? Allowing for external causes, I say still, in the main it is individual selfishness. Each class is apt to give too little and expect too much. The rich think themselves distrusted; the poor neglected. One often claims confidence which has not been earned ; the other sometimes asks aid which cannot be given. And in this condition of things those are benefactors to the community, by example and teaching, who by any act of self-sacrifice — not

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18 MISS NIGHTINGALE

the mere giving of superfluous wealth, or equally superfluous leisure, but the giving of themselves, their labour, their health, perhaps their life — prove practically that they hold the faith of universal human brotherhood, that they hold that faith in action as well as speculation, on weekdaj^s as well as Sundays, outside the church as well as within it. Such efforts, whatever direction they take, admonish the prosperous, encourage the afflicted, humanise and harmonise all. These, then, are the claims of Miss Nightingale. She and those who went forth with her have relieved a vast mass of suffering, saved many lives, made many deaths easy, aided the State, and, by an example of personal heroism, raised the moral tone of the community. Now, true heroism is not so plentiful that we can afford to let it pass unrecognised — if not for the honour of those who show it, yet, as was rightly said, very much for our own. The best test of a nation's moral state is the kind of claim which it selects for honour. And, with the exception of Howard, the prison reformer, I know no person besides Miss Nightingale, who, within the last hundred years, within this island, or perhaps in Europe, has voluntarily encountered dangers so imminent, and undertaken offices so repulsive, workmg for a large and worthy object, in a pure spirit of duty towards God and compassion for man.

But there is another point of view in which Miss Nightingale's expedition stands out from the common course of human action. It is not easy everywhere, especially in England, to set about doing what no one has done before. Many persons will undergo considerable risks, even that of death itself, when they know that they are engaged in a cause which, besides approving itself to their consciences, commands sympathy and approval, when they know that their motives are appreciated and their conduct applauded. But in this case custom was to be violated, precedent broken through, the surprise, sometimes the censure, of the world to be braved. And do not underrate that obstacle. We hardly know the strength of those social ties that bind us until the moment when we attempt to break them. There is a pressure which

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custom and connection exercise upon the members of society, which modifies conduct, and which seems often to leave to the weaker among us scarcely any share in forming their own characters and careers. Now mark what, by breaking through customs and prejudices, Miss Nightingale has effected for her sex. She has opened to them a new profession, a new sphere of usefulness. I do not suppose that, in undertaking her mission, she thought much of the effect which it might have on the social position of women. Yet probably no one of those who has made that question a special study has done half as much as she towards its settlement. A claim for more extended freedom of action, based on proved public usefulness in the highest sense of the word, with the whole nation to look on and bear witness, is one which must be listened to, and cannot be easily refused.

At this point I may notice some objections which have been, or may be, urged against our proposition. You may be told that, though Miss Nightingale deserves all honour, the promoters of this fund are only seeking to acquire popularity at her expense — to share her triumph without having shared her labours. The facts refute that charge. We claim no credit, for we merit none. We are simply giving utterance to a sentiment which we did not originate, which we do not profess exclusively to represent, and which we find already diffused through the length and breadth of the land. On the monument which we desire to raise, no name will be inscribed save one. Again, suspicions have been uttered, though without one particle of proof, that the design submitted to you had in it something of a sectarian or superstitious character. Were the fact so, I for one would wash my hands of it and advise all whom I could reach to do the same. But the only organisation we propose or desire to establish is one of pure, general, unseotarian benevolence — a sentiment which, I rather imagine, belongs to no particular era or opinion, but is just as old and as widely spread as the human race itself. Lastly, and in that plea there is more weight, I have heard it said that, before applying for money in a city like Manchester, we

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ought to hare been prepared with a plan more definite and detailed than that laid before you. My answer is — much must be left undecided if free play is to be given to the judgment and experience of Miss Nightingale. It is not rules, not forms, not paper cheques or guarantees, that make an enterprise prosper ; it is the living, unfettered human energy. You ought to know that in Manchester, if others don't, and I believe you do know it. Without a rare, original talent, this work could not be done at all ; and with such a talent the best thing you can do is to let it work out its own ends in its own way. We promise to leave Miss Nightingale free and unhampered ; and we believe that is the best guarantee for efficiency we can give.