It is with no common pleasure, that
I take part in the present course of Lectures. Such a course is a sign of
the times, and very interesting to all who are interested in the progress
of their fellow creatures. We hear much of the improvements of our age.
The wonders achieved by machinery are the common talk of every circle; but
I confess, that, to me, this gathering of mechanics' apprentices, whose
chief bond of union is a library, and who come together weekly to refresh
and improve themselves by the best instruction which the state of society
places within their reach, is ore encouraging than all the miracles of the
machinest. In this meeting I see, what I desire most to see, that the mass
of the people are beginning to comprehend themselves and their true happiness,
that they are catching glimpses of the great work and vocation of human
beings, and are rising to their true place in the social state. The present
meeting indicates a far more radical, more important change in the world,
than the steam engine, or the navigation of the Atlantic in a fortnight.
That members of the labouring class, at the close of a day's work, should
assemble in such a hall as this, to hear lectures on science, history, ethics,
and the most stirring topics of the day, from men whose education is thought
to fit them for the highest offices, is a proof of a social revolution,
to which no bounds can be set, and from which too much cannot be hoped.
I see in it a repeal of the sentence of degradation passed by ages on the
mass of mankind. I see in it the dawn of a new era, in which it will be
understood, that the first object of society is to give incitements and
means of progress to all its members. I see in it the sign of the approaching
triumph of men's spiritual over their outward and material interests. In
the hunger and thirst for knowledge and for refined pleasures, which this
course of lectures indicates in those who labour, I see that the spirit
of man is not always to be weighed down by toils for animal life and by
the appetite for animal indulgences. I do attach great importance to this
meeting, not for its own sake or its immediate benefits, but as a token
and pledge of a new impulse given to society through all its conditions.
On this account I take more pleasure in speaking here, than I should feel
in being summoned to pronounce a show-oration before all the kings and nobles
on earth. In truth, it is time to have done with shows. The age is too stirring,
we are pressed on by too solemn interests, to be justified in making speeches
for self-display, or mere amusement. He who cannot say something in sympathy
with, or in aid of the great movements of humanity, might a well hold his
piece. pp. 1-2
What is to be understood by the elevation of the labouring class? This is
our first topic. To prevent misapprehension I will begin with stating what
is not meant by it, in what it does not consist. I say then, that by the
elevation of the labourer, I do not understand that he is to be raised above
the need of labour. I do not expect a series of improvements, by which he
is to be released from his daily work. Still more, I have no desire to dismiss
him from his workshop and farm, to take the spade and axe from his hand,
and to make his life a long holiday. I have faith in labour, and I see the
goodness of God in placing us in a world where labour alone can keep us
alive. I would not change, if I could, our subjection to physical laws,
our exposure to hunger and cold, and the necessity of constant conflicts
with the material world. I would not, if I could, so temper the elements,
that they should infuse into us only grateful sensations, that thy should
make vegetation so exhuberant as to anticipate every want, and the minerals
so ductile as to offer no resistance to strength or skill. Such a world
would make a contemptible race. Man owes his growth, his energy, chiefly
to that striving of the will, that conflict with difficulty, which we call
Effort. Easy, pleasant work does not make robust minds, does not give men
a consciousness of their powers, does not train them to endurance, to perseverance,
to steady force of will, that force without which all other acquisitions
avail nothing. Manual labor is a school, in which men are placed to get
energy of purpose and character, a vastly more important endowment than
all the learning of all other schools. They are placed, indeed, under hard
masters, physical sufferings and wants, the power of fearful elements, and
the vicissitudes of all human things; but these stern teachers do a work
which no compassionate, indulgent friend could do for us; and true wisdom
will bless Providence for their sharp ministry. I have great faith in hard
work. The material world does much for the mind by its beauty and order;
but it does more for our minds by the pains it inflicts, by its obstinate
resistance which nothing but patient toil can overcome, by its vast forces
which nothing but unremitting skill and effort can turn to our use, by its
perils which demand continual vigilance, and by is tendencies to decay.
I believe that difficulties are more important to the human mind than what
we call assistances. Work we all must, if we mean to bring out and perfect
our nature. Even if we do not work with our hands, we must undergo equivalent
toil in some other direction. No business or study which does not present
obstacles, tasking to the full the intellect and the will, is worthy of
a man. . . . Alas, for the man who has not learned to work! He is a poor
creature. He does not know himself. He depends on others, with no capacity
of making returns for the support thy give; and let him not fancy that he
has a monopoly of enjoyment. Ease, rest, owes its deliciousness to toil;
and no toil is so burdensome as the rest of him, who has nothing to task
and quicken his powers. pp. 5-7
Variety of action, corresponding to the variety of human powers and fitted
to develop all, is the most important element of human civilization. It
should be the aim of philanthropists. In proportion as Christianity shall
spread the spirit of brotherhood, the will and must be a more equal distribution
of toils and means of improvement. That system of labour, which saps the
health,and shortens life, and famishes intellect, needs, and must receive
great modification. Still, labour in due proportion is an important part
of our present toil. It is the condition of all outward comforts and improvements,
whilst, at the same time, it conspires with higher means and influences
in ministering to the vigor and growth of the soul. Let us not fight against
it. We need this admonition because at the present moment there is a general
disposition to shun labour; and this ought to be regarded as a bad sign
of our times. The city is thronged with adventurers from the country, and
the liberal professions are overstocked, in the hope of escaping the primeval
sentence of living by the sweat of the brow; and to this crowding of men
into trade we owe not only the neglect of agriculture, but what is far worse,
the demoralization of the community. It generates excessive competition,
which of necessity generates fraud. Trade is turned to gambling; and a spirit
of mad speculation exposes public and private interests to a distastrous
instability. It is then no part of the philanthropy which would elevate
the labouring body, to exempt them from manual toil. In truth, a wise philanthropy
would, if possible, persuade all men of all conditions to mix up a measure
of this toil with their other pursuits. The body as well as the mind needs
vigorous exertion, and even the studious would be happier were they trained
to labour as well as thought. Let us learn to regard manual toil as the
true discipline of a man. Not a few of the wisest, grandest spirits have
toiled at the work- bench and the plough. pp. 8-10
It is true that in countries, where the mass of the people are ignorant
and servile, the existence of a higher and a worshipped rank tends to keep
them from outrage. It infuses a sentiment of awe, which prevents more or
less the need of force and punishment. But it is worthy of remark, that
the means of keeping order in one stat of society, may become the chief
excitement of discontent and disorder in another, and this is peculiarly
true of aristocracy or high rank. In rude ages, this keeps the people down;
but when the people by degrees have risen to some consciousness of their
rights and essential equality with the rest of the race, the awe of rank
naturally subsides, and passes into suspicion, jealousy, and sense of injury,
and a disposition to resist. The very institution which once restrained,
now provokes. Through this process the old world is now passing. The strange
illusion, that a man, because he wears a garter or ribbon, or was born to
a title, belongs to another race, is fading away; and society must pass
through a series of revolutions, silent or bloody, until a ore natural order
takes place of distinctions which grew originally out of force. Thus aristocracy
instead of giving order to society, now convulses it. So impossible is it
for arbitrary human ordinations permanently to degrade human nature, or
subvert the principles of justice and freedom.
I am aware, that it will be said, `that the want of refinement of manners
and taste in the lower classes will necessarily keep them an inferior caste,
even though all political inequalities be removed.' I acknowledge this defect
of manners in the multitude, and grant that it is an obstacle to intercourse
with the more improved, though often exaggerated. But this is a barrier
which must and will yield to the means of culture spread through our community.
This evil is not necessarily associated with any condition of human life.
An intelligent traveller, tells us, that in Norway, a country wanting many
of our advantages, good manners and politeness are spread through all conditions;
and that the `rough way of talking to and living with each other, characteristic
of the lower classes of society in England, is not found there.' Not many
centuries ago, the intercourse of the highest orders in Europe was sullied
by indelicacy and fierceness; but time has worn out these stains, and the
same cause is now removing what is repulsive among those who toil with their
hands. I cannot believe, that coarse manners, boisterous conversation, slovenly
negligences, filthy customs, surliness, indecency, are to descend by necessity
from generation to generation in an portion of the community. I do not see,
why neatness, courtesy, delicacy, ease and deference to other's feelings,
may not be made the habits of the labouring multitude. A change is certainly
going on among them in respect to manners. Let us hope, that it will be
a change for the better; that they will not adopt false notions of refinement;
that they will escape the servile imitation of what is hollow and insincere,
and the substitution of outward shows for genuine natural courtesy. Unhappily
they have but imperfect models on which to form themselves. It is not one
class alone which needs reform in manners. We all need a new social intercourse,
which shall breathe genuine refinement; which shall unite the two great
element of politeness, self-respect and a delicate regard to the rights
and feelings of otters; which shall be free without rudeness, and earnest
without positiveness; which shall be graceful yet warm-hearted; and in which,
communication shall be frank, unlaboured, overflowing, through the absence
of all assumption and pretence, and through the consciousness of being safe
from heartless ridicule. This grand reform, which I trust is to come; will
bring with it a happiness little known in social life; and whence shall
it come? The wise and disinterested of all conditions must contribute to
it; and I see not why the labouring classes may not take part in the work.
Indeed, when I consider the greater simplicity of their live and their greater
openness to the spirit of Christianity, I am not sure but that the `golden
age' of manners is to begin among those, who are now despaired of for their
want of refinement.
In these remarks, I have given the name of `prejudices' to the old opinions
respecting rank, and respecting the need of keeping people from much thought.
But allow these opinions to have a foundation in truth; suppose high fences
of rank to be necessary to refinement of manners; suppose that the happiest
of all ages were the feudal, when aristocracy was in its flower and glory,
when the noble, superior to the laws, committed more murders in one year,
than the multitude in twenty. Suppose it best for the lalourer to live and
die in thoughtless ignorance. Allow all this, and that we have reason to
look with envy on the past; one thing is plain; the past is gone the feudal
castle is dismantled, the distance between classes greatly reduced. Unfortunate
as it may be, the people have begun to think, to ask reasons for what they
do and suffer and believe, and to call the past to account. Old spells are
broken, old reliances gone. Men can no longer be kept down by pageantry,
state robes, forms and shows. Allowing it to be best, that society should
rest on the depression of the multitude, the multitude will no longer be
quiet when they are trodden under foot, but ask impatiently for a reason
why they too may not have a share in social blessings. Such is the stat
of things, and we must make the best of what we cannot prevent. Right or
wrong, the people will think; and is it not important that they should think
justly? that they should be inspired with the love of truth, and instructed
how to seek it? that they should be established by wise culture in the great
principles on which religion and society rest, and be protected from skepticism
and wild speculation by intercourse with enlightened and virtuous men? It
is plain, that in the actual state of the world, nothing can avail us, but
a real improvement of the mass of the people. No stable foundation can be
laid for us but in men's minds. Alarming as the truth is, it should be told,
that outward institutions cannot now secure us. Mightier powers than institutions
have come into play among us, the judgment the opinions, the feelings of
the many; and all hopes of stability, which do not rest on the progress
of the many, must perish. pp. 50-54