Endymion - Benjamin Disraeli
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"The decline of the revenue is not fitful; it is regular. Our people are
too apt to look at the state of the revenue merely in a financial point
of view. If a surplus, take off taxes; if a deficiency, put them on. But
the state of the revenue should also be considered as the index of the
condition of the population. According to my impression, the condition
of the people is declining; and why? because they are less employed.
If this spreads, they will become discontented and disaffected, and
I cannot help remembering that, if they become troublesome, it is our
office that will have to deal with them."
"This bad harvest is a great misfortune," said Endymion.
"Yes, but a bad harvest, though unquestionably a great, perhaps the
greatest, misfortune for this country, is not the entire solution of
our difficulties--I would say, our coming difficulties. A bad harvest
touches the whole of our commercial system: it brings us face to
face with the corn laws. I wish our chief would give his mind to that
subject. I believe a moderate fixed duty of about twelve shillings
a quarter would satisfy every one, and nothing then could shake this
country."
Endymion listened with interest to other views of his master, who
descanted on them at much length. Private secretaries know everything
about their chiefs, and Endymion was not ignorant that among many of the
great houses of the Whig party, and indeed among the bulk of what was
called "the Liberal" party generally, Mr. Sidney Wilton was looked upon,
so far as economical questions were concerned, as very crotchety,
indeed a dangerous character. Lord Montfort was the only magnate who was
entirely opposed to the corn laws, but then, as Berengaria would remark,
"Simon is against all laws; he is not a practical man."
Mr. Sidney Wilton reverted to these views more than once in the course
of their journey. "I was not alarmed about the Chartists last year.
Political trouble in this country never frightens me. Insurrections and
riots strengthen an English government; they gave a new lease even to
Lord Liverpool when his ministry was most feeble and unpopular; but
economical discontent is quite another thing. The moment sedition arises
from taxation, or want of employment, it is more dangerous and more
difficult to deal with in this country than any other."
"Lord Roehampton seemed to take rather a sanguine view of the situation
after the Bed-Chamber business in the spring," observed Endymion, rather
in an inquiring than a dogmatic spirit.
"Lord Roehampton has other things to think of," said Mr. Wilton. "He is
absorbed, and naturally absorbed, in his department, the most important
in the state, and of which he is master. But I am obliged to look
at affairs nearer home. Now, this Anti-Corn-Law League, which they
established last year at Manchester, and which begins to be very busy,
though nobody at present talks of it, is, in my mind, a movement which
ought to be watched. I tell you what; it occurred to me more than once
during that wondrous pageant, that we have just now been taking part in,
the government wants better information than they have as to the state
of the country, the real feelings and condition of the bulk of the
population. We used to sneer at the Tories for their ignorance of these
matters, but after all, we, like them, are mainly dependent on quarter
sessions; on the judgment of a lord-lieutenant and the statistics of a
bench of magistrates. It is true we have introduced into our subordinate
administration at Whitehall some persons who have obtained the
reputation of distinguished economists, and we allow them to guide us.
But though ingenious men, no doubt, they are chiefly bankrupt tradesmen,
who, not having been able to manage their own affairs, have taken upon
themselves to advise on the conduct of the country--pedants and prigs at
the best, and sometimes impostors. No; this won't do. It is useless to
speak to the chief; I did about the Anti-Corn-Law League; he shrugged
his shoulders and said it was a madness that would pass. I have made
up my mind to send somebody, quite privately, to the great scenes of
national labour. He must be somebody whom nobody knows, and nobody
suspects of being connected with the administration, or we shall never
get the truth--and the person I have fixed upon is yourself."
"But am I equal to such a task?" said Endymion modestly, but sincerely.
"I think so," said Mr. Wilton, "or, of course, I would not have fixed
upon you. I want a fresh and virgin intelligence to observe and consider
the country. It must be a mind free from prejudice, yet fairly informed
on the great questions involved in the wealth of nations. I know you
have read Adam Smith, and not lightly. Well, he is the best guide,
though of course we must adapt his principles to the circumstances with
which we have to deal. You have good judgment, great industry, a fairly
quick perception, little passion--perhaps hardly enough; but that is
probably the consequence of the sorrows and troubles of early life. But,
after all, there is no education like adversity."
"If it will only cease at the right time," said Endymion.
"Well, in that respect, I do not think you have anything to complain
of," said Mr. Wilton. "The world is all before you, and I mistake if you
do not rise. Perseverance and tact are the two qualities most valuable
for all men who would mount, but especially for those who have to step
out of the crowd. I am sure no one can say you are not assiduous, but I
am glad always to observe that you have tact. Without tact you can learn
nothing. Tact teaches you when to be silent. Inquirers who are always
inquiring never learn anything."
CHAPTER LXII
Lancashire was not so wonderful a place forty years ago as it is at
present, but, compared then with the rest of England, it was infinitely
more striking. For a youth like Endymion, born and bred in our southern
counties, the Berkshire downs varied by the bustle of Pall-Mall and the
Strand--Lancashire, with its teeming and toiling cities, its colossal
manufactories and its gigantic chimneys, its roaring engines and its
flaming furnaces, its tramroads and its railroads, its coal and its
cotton, offered a far greater contrast to the scenes in which he had
hitherto lived, than could be furnished by almost any country of the
European continent.
Endymion felt it was rather a crisis in his life, and that his future
might much depend on the fulfilment of the confidential office which
had been entrusted to him by his chief. He summoned all his energies,
concentrated his intelligence on the one subject, and devoted to its
study and comprehension every moment of his thought and time. After a
while, he had made Manchester his head-quarters. It was even then the
centre of a network of railways, and gave him an easy command of the
contiguous districts.
Endymion had more than once inquired after the Anti-Corn-Law League,
but had not as yet been so fortunate as to attend any of their meetings.
They were rarer than they afterwards soon became, and the great
manufacturers did not encourage them. "I do not like extreme views,"
said one of the most eminent one day to Endymion. "In my opinion, we
should always avoid extremes;" and he paused and looked around, as if
he had enunciated a heaven-born truth, and for the first time. "I am a
Liberal; so we all are here. I supported Lord Grey, and I support Lord
Melbourne, and I am, in everything, for a liberal policy. I don't like
extremes. A wise minister should take off the duty on cotton wool. That
is what the country really wants, and then everybody would be satisfied.
No; I know nothing about this League you ask about, and I do not know
any one--that is to say, any one respectable--who does. They came to me
to lend my name. 'No,' I said, 'gentlemen; I feel much honoured, but I
do not like extremes;' and they went away. They are making a little more
noise now, because they have got a man who has the gift of the gab, and
the people like to go and hear him speak. But as I said to a friend of
mine, who seemed half inclined to join them, 'Well; if I did anything of
that sort, I would be led by a Lancashire lad. They have got a foreigner
to lead them, a fellow out of Berkshire; an agitator--and only a
print-work after all. No; that will never do.'"
Notwithstanding these views, which Endymion found very generally
entertained by the new world in which he mixed, he resolved to take the
earliest opportunity of attending the meeting of the League, and it soon
arrived.
It was an evening meeting, so that workmen--or the operatives, as they
were styled in this part of the kingdom--should be able to attend. The
assembly took place in a large but temporary building; very well adapted
to the human voice, and able to contain even thousands. It was fairly
full to-night; and the platform, on which those who took a part in the
proceedings, or who, by their comparatively influential presence, it was
supposed, might assist the cause, was almost crowded.
"He is going to speak to-night," said an operative to Endymion. "That is
why there is such an attendance."
Remembering Mr. Wilton's hint about not asking unnecessary questions
which often arrest information, Endymion did not inquire who "he" was;
and to promote communication merely observed, "A fine speaker, then, I
conclude?"
"Well, he is in a way," said the operative. "He has not got
Hollaballoo's voice, but he knows what he is talking about. I doubt
their getting what they are after; they have not the working classes
with them. If they went against truck, it would be something."
The chairman opened the proceedings; but was coldly received, though he
spoke sensibly and at some length. He then introduced a gentleman, who
was absolutely an alderman, to move a resolution condemnatory of the
corn laws. The august position of the speaker atoned for his halting
rhetoric, and a city which had only just for the first time been
invested with municipal privileges was hushed before a man who might in
time even become a mayor.
Then the seconder advanced, and there was a general burst of applause.
"There he is," said the operative to Endymion; "you see they like him.
Oh, Job knows how to do it!"
Endymion listened with interest, soon with delight, soon with a feeling
of exciting and not unpleasing perplexity, to the orator; for he was an
orator, though then unrecognised, and known only in his district. He was
a pale and slender man, with a fine brow and an eye that occasionally
flashed with the fire of a creative mind. His voice certainly was not
like Hollaballoo's. It was rather thin, but singularly clear. There was
nothing clearer except his meaning. Endymion never heard a case stated
with such pellucid art; facts marshalled with such vivid simplicity,
and inferences so natural and spontaneous and irresistible, that they
seemed, as it were, borrowed from his audience, though none of that
audience had arrived at them before. The meeting was hushed, was rapt in
intellectual delight, for they did not give the speaker the enthusiasm
of their sympathy. That was not shared, perhaps, by the moiety of those
who listened to him. When his case was fairly before them, the speaker
dealt with his opponents--some in the press, some in parliament--with
much power of sarcasm, but this power was evidently rather repressed
than allowed to run riot. What impressed Endymion as the chief quality
of this remarkable speaker was his persuasiveness, and he had the air
of being too prudent to offend even an opponent unnecessarily. His
language, though natural and easy, was choice and refined. He was
evidently a man who had read, and not a little; and there was no taint
of vulgarity, scarcely a provincialism, in his pronunciation.
He spoke for rather more than an hour; and frequently during this time,
Endymion, notwithstanding his keen interest in what was taking place,
was troubled, it might be disturbed, by pictures and memories of
the past that he endeavoured in vain to drive away. When the orator
concluded, amid cheering much louder than that which had first greeted
him, Endymion, in a rather agitated voice, whispered to his neighbour,
"Tell me--is his name Thornberry?"
"That is your time of day," said the operative. "Job Thornberry is his
name, and I am on his works."
"And yet you do not agree with him?"
"Well; I go as far as he goes, but he does not go so far as I go; that's
it."
"I do not see how a man can go much farther," said Endymion. "Where are
his works? I knew your master when he was in the south of England, and I
should like to call on him."
"My employer," said the operative. "They call themselves masters, but we
do not. I will tell you. His works are a mile out of town; but it seems
only a step, for there are houses all the way. Job Thornberry & Co.'s
Print-works, Pendleton Road--any one can guide you--and when you get
there, you can ask for me, if you like. I am his overlooker, and my name
is ENOCH CRAGGS."
CHAPTER LXIII
"You are not much altered," said Thornberry, as he retained Endymion's
hand, and he looked at him earnestly; "and yet you have become a man.
I suppose I am ten years your senior. I have never been back to the old
place, and yet I sometimes think I should like to be buried there. The
old man has been here, and more than once, and liked it well enough; at
least, I hope so. He told me a good deal about you all; some sorrows,
and, I hope, some joys. I heard of Miss Myra's marriage; she was a sweet
young lady; the gravest person I ever knew; I never knew her smile. I
remember they thought her proud, but I always had a fancy for her.
Well; she has married a topsawyer--I believe the ablest of them all, and
probably the most unprincipled; though I ought not to say that to you.
However, public men are spoken freely of. I wish to Heaven you would get
him to leave off tinkering those commercial treaties that he is always
making such a fuss about. More pernicious nonsense was never devised
by man than treaties of commerce. However, their precious most favoured
nation clause will break down the whole concern yet. But you wish to see
the works; I will show them to you myself. There is not much going on
now, and the stagnation increases daily. And then, if you are willing,
we will go home and have a bit of lunch--I live hard by. My best works
are my wife and children: I have made that joke before, as you can well
fancy."
This was the greeting, sincere but not unkind, of Job Thornberry to
Endymion on the day after the meeting of the Anti-Corn-Law League. To
Endymion it was an interesting, and, as he believed it would prove, a
useful encounter.
The print-works were among the most considerable of their kind at
Manchester, but they were working now with reduced numbers and at
half-time. It was the energy and the taste and invention of Thornberry
that had given them their reputation, and secured them extensive
markets. He had worked with borrowed capital, but had paid off his debt,
and his establishment was now his own; but, stimulated by his success,
he had made a consignment of large amount to the United States, where it
arrived only to be welcomed by what was called the American crash.
Turning from the high road, a walk of half a mile brought them to a
little world of villas; varying in style and size, but all pretty, and
each in its garden. "And this is my home," said Thornberry, opening the
wicket, "and here is my mistress and the young folks"--pointing to
a pretty woman, but with an expression of no inconsiderable
self-confidence, and with several children clinging to her dress and
hiding their faces at the unexpected sight of a stranger. "My eldest is
a boy, but he is at school," said Thornberry. "I have named him, after
one of the greatest men that ever lived, John Hampden."
"He was a landed proprietor," observed Endymion rather drily; "and a
considerable one."
"I have brought an old friend to take cheer with us," continued
Thornberry; "one whom I knew before any here present; so show your
faces, little people;" and he caught up one of the children, a fair
child like its mother, long-haired and blushing like a Worcestershire
orchard before harvest time. "Tell the gentleman what you are."
"A free-trader," murmured the infant.
Within the house were several shelves of books well selected, and the
walls were adorned with capital prints of famous works of art. "They
are chiefly what are called books of reference," said Thornberry, as
Endymion was noticing his volumes; "but I have not much room, and, to
tell you the truth, they are not merely books of reference to me--I like
reading encyclopaedia. The 'Dictionary of Dates' is a favourite book of
mine. The mind sometimes wants tone, and then I read Milton. He is the
only poet I read--he is complete, and is enough. I have got his prose
works too. Milton was the greatest of Englishmen."
The repast was simple, but plenteous, and nothing could be neater than
the manner in which it was served.
"We are teetotallers," said Thornberry; "but we can give you a good cup
of coffee."
"I am a teetotaller too at this time of the day," said Endymion; "but
a good cup of coffee is, they say, the most delicious and the rarest
beverage in the world."
"Well," continued Thornberry; "it is a long time since we met, Mr.
Ferrars--ten years. I used to think that in ten years one might do
anything; and a year ago, I really thought I had done it; but the
accursed laws of this blessed country, as it calls itself, have nearly
broken me, as they have broken many a better man before me."
"I am sorry to hear this," said Endymion; "I trust it is but a passing
cloud."
"It is not a cloud," said Thornberry; "it is a storm, a tempest, a
wreck--but not only for me. Your great relative, my Lord Roehampton,
must look to it, I can tell you that. What is happening in this country,
and is about to happen, will not be cured or averted by commercial
treaties--mark my words."
"But what would cure it?" said Endymion.
"There is only one thing that can cure this country, and it will soon be
too late for that. We must have free exchange."
"Free exchange!" murmured Endymion thoughtfully.
"Why, look at this," said Thornberry. "I had been driving a capital
trade with the States for nearly five years. I began with nothing, as
you know. I had paid off all my borrowed capital; my works were my own,
and this house is a freehold. A year ago I sent to my correspondent at
New York the largest consignment of goods I had ever made and the best,
and I cannot get the slightest return for them. My correspondent writes
to me that there is no end of corn and bread-stuffs which he could send,
if we could only receive them; but he knows very well he might as well
try and send them to the moon. The people here are starving and want
these bread-stuffs, and they are ready to pay for them by the products
of their labour--and your blessed laws prevent them!"
"But these laws did not prevent your carrying on a thriving trade with
America for five years, according to your own account," said Endymion.
"I do not question what you say; I am asking only for information."
"What you say is fairly said, and it has been said before," replied
Thornberry; "but there is nothing in it. We had a trade, and a thriving
trade, with the States; though, to be sure, it was always fitful and
ought to have been ten times as much, even during those five years. But
the fact is, the state of affairs in America was then exceptional. They
were embarked in great public works in which every one was investing his
capital; shares and stocks abounded, and they paid us for our goods with
them."
"Then it would rather seem that they have no capital now to spare to
purchase our goods?"
"Not so," said Thornberry sharply, "as I have shown; but were it so,
it does not affect my principle. If there were free exchange, we should
find employment and compensation in other countries, even if the States
were logged, which I don't believe thirty millions of people with
boundless territory ever can be."
"But after all," said Endymion, "America is as little in favour of free
exchange as we are. She may send us her bread-stuffs; but her laws will
not admit our goods, except on the payment of enormous duties."
"Pish!" said Thornberry; "I do not care this for their enormous duties.
Let me have free imports, and I will soon settle their duties."
"To fight hostile tariffs with free imports," said Endymion; "is not
that fighting against odds?"
"Not a bit. This country has nothing to do but to consider its imports.
Foreigners will not give us their products for nothing; but as for their
tariffs, if we were wise men, and looked to our real interests, their
hostile tariffs, as you call them, would soon be falling down like an
old wall."
"Well, I confess," said Endymion, "I have for some time thought the
principle of free exchange was a sound one; but its application in a
country like this would be very difficult, and require, I should think,
great prudence and moderation."
"By prudence and moderation you mean ignorance and timidity," said
Thornberry scornfully.
"Not exactly that, I hope," said Endymion; "but you cannot deny that
the home market is a most important element in the consideration of our
public wealth, and it mainly rests upon the agriculture of the country."
"Then it rests upon a very poor foundation," said Thornberry.
"But if any persons should be more tempted than others by free exchange,
it should be the great body of the consumers of this land, who pay
unjust and excessive prices for every article they require. No, my dear
Mr. Ferrars; the question is a very simple one, and we may talk for
ever, and we shall never alter it. The laws of this country are made by
the proprietors of land, and they make them for their own benefit. A man
with a large estate is said to have a great stake in the country because
some hundreds of people or so are more or less dependent on him. How has
he a greater interest in the country than a manufacturer who has sunk
100,000 pounds in machinery, and has a thousand people, as I had,
receiving from him weekly wages? No home market, indeed! Pah! it is an
affair of rent, and nothing more or less. And England is to be ruined
to keep up rents. Are you going? Well, I am glad we have met. Perhaps
we shall have another talk together some day. I shall not return to
the works. There is little doing there, and I must think now of other
things. The subscriptions to the League begin to come in apace. Say what
they like in the House of Commons and the vile London press, the thing
is stirring."
Wishing to turn the conversation a little, Endymion asked Mrs.
Thornberry whether she occasionally went to London.
"Never was there," she said, in a sharp, clear voice; "but I hope to go
soon."
"You will have a great deal to see."
"All I want to see, and hear, is the Rev. Servetus Frost," replied the
lady. "My idea of perfect happiness is to hear him every Sunday. He
comes here sometimes, for his sister is settled here; a very big mill.
He preached here a month ago. Should not I have liked the bishop to have
heard him, that's all! But he would not dare to go; he could not answer
a point."
"My wife is of the Unitarian persuasion," said Thornberry. "I am not. I
was born in our Church, and I keep to it; but I often go to chapel with
my wife. As for religion generally, if a man believes in his Maker and
does his duty to his neighbours, in my mind that is sufficient."
Endymion bade them good-bye, and strolled musingly towards his hotel.
Just as he reached the works again, he encountered Enoch Craggs, who was
walking into Manchester.
"I am going to our institute," said Enoch. "I do not know why, but they
have put me on the committee."
"And, I doubt not, they did very wisely," said Endymion.
"Master Thornberry was glad to see you?" said Enoch.
"And I was glad to see him."
"He has got the gift of speech," said Enoch.
"And that is a great gift."
"If wisely exercised, and I will not say he is not exercising it wisely.
Certainly for his own purpose, but whether that purpose is for the
general good--query?"
"He is against monopoly," observed Endymion inquiringly.
"Query again?" said Enoch.
"Well; he is opposed to the corn laws."
"The corn laws are very bad laws," said Enoch, "and the sooner we get
rid of them the better. But there are worse things than the corn laws."
"Hem!" said Endymion.
"There are the money laws," said Enoch.
"I did not know you cared so much about them at Manchester," said
Endymion. "I thought it was Birmingham that was chiefly interested about
currency."
"I do not care one jot about currency," said Enoch; "and, so far as
I can judge, the Birmingham chaps talk a deal of nonsense about
the matter. Leastwise, they will never convince me that a slip
of irredeemable paper is as good as the young queen's head on a
twenty-shilling piece. I mean the laws that secure the accumulation of
capital, by which means the real producers become mere hirelings, and
really are little better than slaves."