NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY;
AND WOUNDS IN TIME
OF PEACE.
a Ita forft WRpprtsst.
BY MISS JENNIE COLLINS.
EDITED BY RUSSELL H. CONWELL.
" Whoe'er amidst the sons
Of reason, valor, liberty, and virtue
Displays distinguished merit, is a noble
Of Nature's own creating."
THOMSON.
"What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards?
Not all the blood of all the Howards."
POPE.
BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
NEW YORK:
LEE, SHEPARD, AND DILLINGHAM.
1871.
* *.
OR,
BATTLES
I I 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870,
BY LEE AND SHEPARD,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
UNIVERSITY PRESS: WELCH, BIGELOW, & CO.,
CAMBRIDGE.
.9*
A* 
TO
MRS. JENNIE HAYDEN CONWELL,
whose sympathy for the oppressed, kindness to the poor,
and lively interest in all that concerns the welfare of
woman has been so often shown in words and deeds,
the author would affectionately dedicate this volume.
I&_ 
C, 
PREFACE.
DuTY has often called, and in this book I try
to respond. I have attempted but little, and
whether that has been accomplished the impartial reader shall determine.  
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
NATURE S ARISTOCRACY.
I
Shall I write?- Unnatural State of Society.- Needed Recon struction.- Nature's Aristocracy. - Her Impartiality. - The
Battle of Genius........ 
CHAPTER II.
THE BEGGARS.
Little Lizzie. - Professional Beggars. - Begging as a Business.
- Success in Life.- Marrying a Beggar for Money. - An
Empress in Rags.- Little Applicants for Food.- "Little Sis ter's real cold." - The little Boy's Heroism...
CHAPTER III
ONE GRADE ABOVE THE BEGGARS.
Homes of the Poor.- Why they are Wretched.- Educated
Women in Distress. - The Old Apple-Woman. - The Soldier's
Wife. - Comfort and Plenty in Exchange for Virtue. - Gen erosity of a Tailoress.- "Freddie and Mamma won't cry,
will they, Mamma? "- The Sailor's Last Dollar... 22
5-.'(,57
0
9 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
CRIME AND NOBILITY.
Able Criminals. -Fall of Companions. -Wellie's Fate. - Mar tha the Actress. - The Able Gambler. - Loss of Caste. - A
Writer in the House of Correction. - She is not worth Saving.
-" The Prisoner's Friend." - Who is responsible for Crime   41
CHAPTER V.
NEWSBOYS AND BOOTBLACKS.
Success in Life. - Their Genius and Education. - Newsboys'
" Home." - Dividing the Profits. - You may borrow, but you
shall never pay.......... 60
CHAPTER VI.
SHOP-GIRLS.
Who are Shop-Girls. - Their Condition.- The little "Cash Girl." -Female Clerks.- Their Trials.- What Society owes
them. -The Tailor-Shops. - Acts of Kindness. - Ability of
the Shop Hands.......... 66
CHAPTER VII.
JOURNEYMEN TAILORS.
The Troubles of a Tailor. -How Custom Coats are made. Too much Work, or too much Leisure. - Their Pay. - Intel lectual Ability.- Oppressive Foremen.-  Piece-Makers. How they grind the Face of the Poor.....  89
CHAPTER VIII.
SERVANT-GIRLS.
Why American Girls prefer the Shops and Factories. - Their
Taste and Refinement. - Incidents in Kitchen Life. - The
Old Cook.- The Nurse.- The Waiter. - Anecdotes, &c.    100
viii 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IX.
THEN AND NOW OF FACTORY LIFE.
Spirit of the Age. -Why Servants are Impudent. - The First
Manufacturers.- Treatment of Operatives.- The Factory
Girls.- The Boarding-Houses. - The Golden Age of Factory
Life.- The First Factories in New England.- Growth of
the System. - Incorporation. - The Factories of England. -
The Ten-Hour Bill.- John Bright.- Americans descending
and the English ascending. -The Operatives now in Amer ican Employ. - History of a Factory which prospered with
the " Old School" and failed with the "New"... 124
CHAPTER X.
HOW COTTON IS MANUFACTURED. - FACTORY FRIENDSHIPS.
Brotherly Affection. - The Destitute Wife.- The Widow's
Trial.- The Country Girl and the Actress.-Drunken Pick ard and Bob...............
CHAPTER XI.
AMONG THE " STRIKERS."
Character of "Strikers." - Homes of Workmen. - Life of a
Factory Girl. - Of Factory Men.- Tailors' and Telegraph
Strikes. - The "Dover Strike." - Incidents of Factory Life,
&C..,....,   o
172
CHAPTER XII.
CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS.
What is Charity?- Wages according to the Profits.
Lawrence Calamity. - Charity and small Wages.- C
down the Pay of Operatives to make great Donati
Temporary Relief not a permanent Cure.-" Hom
Their Uses and Abuses.- How a "Soldiers' Home
supported. - Incidents, &c......
ix
150
.. 214 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XIII.
NATURAL AND UNNATURAL ARISTOCRATS.
Representatives of Nature.-Who save the Communities. Examples of Nobility.- Names of Prominent American
Aristocrats.- The Darker Side of the Picture.- Anecdotes
of Unnatural Aristocracy.- No Peace with Ill-Gotten Gains 247
CHAPTER XIV
LABOR REFORM.
Lack of Thought. - How Politicians lead the People. -The
Lessons of the War. - Organization of a Labor Reform Party.
- No Leaders.- What the Laborers demand. - Less Hours.
- The Respect of Thinking Men. - Just Legislation.. 281
CHAPTER XV.
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
Woman's Rights. - Woman's  Sphere. - Using the Talen
which God gave her. -History of the Suffrage Movemen
in America. - Margaret Fuller. -Why the Rich do not wan
the Ballot. - Who need it. - Conclusion...
x
. 298 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
CIHAPTER I.
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Shall I write? - Unnatural State of Society.- Needed Recon struction. - Nature's Aristocracy. -  Her Impartiality. - The
Battle of Genius.
I.
THEY  are sad tales indeed which I have to
tell. Too full of sorrow and suffering, defeats
and discouragements, oppression and cruelty to be
sought by the gay, and too true to attract the novelist. Yet I must write them. The world shall
hear them, though the recollection brings tears and
the repetition a shudder. Sad faces! How they
crowd upon me now that I open the gate of memory! Lonely wives, oppressed daughters, tearful
toilers at needle and loom, broken-hearted victims,
and lifeless suicides.
AIust I live it over again?   Must I look once
more into those tearful eyes, and see those outstretched hands? Can I listen to their touching
I
4
I
A 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
appeals again, even in memory, and feel that I have
no bread, no influence, no political power? Yes,
God helping me, I will write.  Yea, I will tread
fearlessly back along the thorny path of my short
life; and the shades of the hungry, toil-killed, and
heart-shattered men  and women shall tell their
tales to the world in death, as they told them to
me in life.
Ah the old Merrimack! iow he leaps into the
foreground, as if the wheels he has turned, the
bodies he has floated, and the scraps he has washed
away had told him secrets too great to keep!  But
he must be dumb, or relate his sad history only to
the bubble-worn rocks, the sands, and the ocean.
For too much is already known.
Hiow often in the spare moments of factory toil
I have gazed out at the long windows upon the
sombre waves of that river as they rolled unceasin,gly over the dam, and grew cheerful and gay as
they leaped over ledges, and eddied around boulders, and, giggling a moment with the race-way
flood, sped on toward the ocean, thoughtless and
happy! How many a sigh it wafted away in those
long dull days, and how often it reflected faces
that longed to make in it their cold bed, eternity
only knows.  But it flows there now as powerful
as ever. Dreamy faces look upon its flood now as
they did in the years gone by, and the rattle of
shuttle and the crash of gearing still mingle with
I
2 
CONDITION OF SOCIETY.
its wild and hollow roar.  I suppose the faces are
yet in the windows, though they often change; and
that the trembling window-sills support exhausted
and agitated operatives as often now as they did
years ago. We will peer into them with the reader
before we are done, and search for the men and
women who, like many in other stations of life,
are far below their natural level, living an aimless,
useless life, while their inferiors are riding in the
parks or dining in their decorated halls. But first
we must visit the workshops of the city, the
dwellings of the wealthy, the homes of poverty,
and the slums of North Street,* that we may
point out those persons to whom God has given
five talents, and who, by the unnatural condition
of society, have been consigned to places where
they cannot use even one.  Wrecks! mastless and
rudderless, swinging around and around in the
current of the great maelstrom, and destined to be
swallowed up within sight of the land from which
they once sailed as well-rigged and well-manied
men-of-war, capable of defending the coast and of
doing themselves honor.
Strange, strange dispensation! Men that should
be kings, in damp, dirty cellars, working at a bench,
and women made for queens, now in the dancingsaloon and poorhouse; while the snob, whose
brains fit him only for carrying a hod, with women
* A street in thie vilest quarter of Boston.
3 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
whose natural stations would be at the streetcorners sweeping the walks, are found in the beautiful homes of millionnaires and in the responsible
offices of government. I would not say that it is always so. For there are rich men who are nature's
noblemen, and fashionable women of wealth who
are well fitted for their station, as there are also
workmen that have found their level at the spade,
and working-women whose sewing-machines are
above their genius. But it is strange that there
should be any filling positions so far from those to
which the God of nature seemed to have assigned
them. If you should enter a factory and find the
water-wheels in the garret, the heaviest machinery
in the seventh story, and the dressing and weaveroom in the basement, you would find the machinery and system less out of joint than at present it
seems to be in this strange country of ours. The
structure of our society is like a building for which
the stone were carefully designed and carved, but
in the construction of which the masons seized
upon whatever block came handiest, without regard
to design or fitness, using window-sills for partition
walls, capstones for the foundation, and  chink pieces for the corner-stone. What wonder that it
cracks under the pressure and jar of labor, fright ening its occupants and appalling the spectators!
It needs rebuilding! and let us proceed, as the
workmen do with the crumbling cathedrals on the
4 
IMPARTIALITY OF NATURE.
Rhine, beginning at the bottom and replacing,
piece by piece, the old wall by new until the
whole- renewed, though unchanged in general
design-with each corner, tie, sill, and cap, shall
be one complete and harmonious whole.
II.
NATURE hates every aristocracy but her own, and
she is ever at work trying to restore to the throne
her own line of nobles, which the dollar and family
pride have deposed. As if to spite the haughty
devotees of money, she gives them spendthrifts
for sons and daughters, who seldom keep the
treasure-chest through the second generation. To
the intellectually endowed she often gives idiotic
children; to the minister of the gospel, ungodly
posterity; and to every anxious father, a son differing, at least in some respect, from the coveted
ideal. Great men seldom ever see their own
equal in the person of a son. On the other
side, the farmer expects an assistant in the field
when his child shall be grown, and behold! he
soon finds himself the father of a philosopher.
The poor mechanic at the anvil dreams of a time
when his boy shall stand beside him swinging the
hammer as he himself has ever done; but lo! in
a few years he finds that Nature has haply deceived him and given him an orator. The humble
5 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
attendant on belt, shuttle, and loom marks out a
factory career for his child, and has no higher
ambition than to be the father of an overseer;
but when to his wondering eyes he sees the fashioning hand of culture making the bobbin-boy into a
man of letters, and sees him the idol of millions, and
perhaps a leader in the nation, he is hardly able
to convince himself that this prodigy is the same
boy for whom he had laid out such an humble
plan of life. Nature makes an equal distribution
of her favors, and the son of an ignorant or common man is a more acceptable suitor at her feet
than is the son of the wealthy and great. There
will be but one Napoleon, though his posterity
continue in power a hundred years. There will
be but one Washington, one Benjamin Franklin,
one Florence Nightingale, one Joan of Arc, in
their respective family lines. Blood does not tell
where we will find genius and true greatness;
neither will Nature tell us beforehand. For she
peers into every habitation, from the lowest hovel
to the most princely palace, and, as if she loved
practical jokes, she says to her agents, "These parents would have a street-sweep,- give them a general; these would have a carpenter, -give them
an inventor; these would have a merchant,- give
them a truckman; these would have a prince,
give them a loafer; these would have a king,
give them a hod-carrier." And thus, throughout
6 
THE BATTLES OF GENIUS.
all the circles and grades of society, she keeps
changing the leadership,-  raising the lowly, humbling the proud, belittling the great, and dignifying
the poor; ever planning to defeat those strenuous
human attempts at the establishment of an hereditary aristocracy, and to teach men that in her
royal line, and in hers only, are to be found the
legitimate noblemen.
Yet, notwithstanding all her attempts and her
impartiality, Nature does not always succeed in
getting the recogniition of her claims to which she
is entitled.  MIortals do defeat her.   Sometimes
her  chosen  men  are so inspired  by  her  that
they break every bond of custom, prejudice, and
pride, and, amid a fearful shower of curses and discouragements, fight their way against the army of
human aristocracy until they scale the highest
wall of the citadel and stand on its parapets
conquerors and kings. Others, regardless of poverty and hardship, buy with their genius a place
which money could not purchase, and after years of
toil look down from their niche and laugh at the
aping aristocrats who are trying to buy wings and
attempting to fly on "borrowed pinions" to the
seats which the sons of "mechanics" so gracefully
fill.  But these are the exceptions.  In this inconsistent society of ours Genius has a terrible battle
to fight, and five chances out of ten he falls fighting on the field, while the usurper treads upon his
7 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
neck and grinds him ill the dust. In every grade
of society we find these branches of the royal
line defeated and disheartened by the never-ending persecution of the arrogant-wealthy and the
conceitedly fortunate. Even beggars and streetsweepers there are, whose graceful forms and inltelligent faces indicate nobility.  But their courage
is not equal to their genius in other respects, the
battle has already been lost, and they, with the
thousands whom their intellect mig,ht have saved,
are dejected, ambitionless captives. Of the successful ones it is not my  place to write.   The
world sees them, and the conceited aristocrats
envy them. But of the lowly and spirit-broken
fugitives, whose just claims for position and influence, and often for a livelihood, have been jostled
aside by wickedness and crime, and of whom' the
world does not so often hear, it is my place, as a
lover of justice and humanity, to speak. And it
is my purpose to do so considerately, truthfully,
and encouragingly, without malice or prejudice,
and keeping always to the simple tales of real life
which have occurred within the limit of my personal acquaintance.
8 
CHAPTER II.
THE BEGGARS.
Little Lizzie. - Professional Beggars. - Begging as a Business.
-Success in Life. - Marrying a Beggar for Money. -An
Empress in Rags. - Little Applicants for Food. -  "Little
Sister's real cold." - The little Boy's Heroism.
I.
OOR little Lizzie! Hiow sad she always ap     peared as she came to the kitchen door and
asked for something to eat! I can see her still as I
recall her tattered dress, dirty feet, matted hair, fresh
red cheeks, and large blue eyes. With all her rags
and filth she had the air of a queen, -a queen
of moral purity and love. Behind her bright eyes
gleamed an intelligence so clear and vivacious
that the beholder felt awed, even in the presence
of a child.
" What is your name, my little girl? " said I to
her one morning.
"Lizzie," said she, in the sweetest, most touching
tones that I have ever heard.
"How old are you?"
1*
%8KS~~~~~~~% 
NTATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
"Only six years," said she, looking shyly up, as
if she wondered what selfish purpose prompted the
query.
"Where do you live?"
"In Salem Street," said she, pointing toward it
with her pretty little hand. "I am nobody's girl,
as my mother was killed by the ears and left nobody to tell who I belonged to. Mrs. McVarney
has took me."
"What do you do for Mrs. MeVarney?"
" 0, I begs."
Poor little thing! so she did beg, not only
abroad for money, but at home for food; and
although she obtained a considerable quantity of
the former, her supply of the latter was limited
indeed.   I went home with her one day to ascertain why this little queen of natural and intellectual beauty was seen in the street so ra,gg,ed
and dirty, instead of being comfortably cared for
and sent regularly to school. I never shall forget that home and the things which I saw there.
It was a tenement-house at the end of a long,
dark, filthy alley in the vilest portion of the city,
and the rooms occupied by Lizzie's mistress were
in the second story, and were reached by a rickety
stairway on the outside of the house. There was
wretchedness on every side. Bloated faces stared at
me from the cellars, chilling curses echoed from the
adjoining tenements, base women and baser men
10 
MATRON OF A BEGGARS' HOME.
quarrelled in the alley, while little half-naked children played in the dirt and laughingly pronounced
the most terrible oaths. Lizzie was not with me, because she dare not be the escort of a stranger; but
from her description of the locality I easily found
the rooms occupied by her mistress. At the door,
as I paused a moment to consider the step I was
taking and to form an excuse for my visit, I
was startled by a series of most piercing shrieks,
mingl(ed with curses and the dull "thugs" of heavy
blows.  The sound proceeded from the room into
which the door  opened, and  without  further
thought I thrust it open and stepped into the
apartment.
In the middle of the wretchedly furnished room
stood a thin, bony-framed woman, with flashing
black eyes, beating a freckled-faced girl with the
broken handle of a wooden ladle. There were five
other girls in the room, none of whom were over
eight years old, and all looking on with an expression of terror that was most pitiful.  When
the woman saw me she released the girl, whom she
had been holding on tiptoe by her hair, and, turning upon me with the uplifted ladle, demanded
who I was and what I wanted. I cannot tell now
what passed between us, for I became so excited;
I only know that she struck me a blow upon the
shoulder, and a policeman came and took her away.
But I do remember how the girls clapped their
11 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
little hands, and with tearful eyes caught hold of
my dress, asking, 0 so pitifully! "Will she come
back any more?" And when I asked the poor
things what they were all doing there, I received
from each little lisping pair of lips the same reply
which Lizzie gave me, -" I begs."
They were hungry and nearly naked, their feet
were sore and swollen, while their faces  and
wadded hair were a most disgusting sight.
How pretty they looked, however, and how
happy they seemed, when, after a thorough washing and being neatly clothed, they stood together
in a row before the police-officer, to testify against
their enslaver! Four were orphans, and two were
stolen from their parents, and all had been taken
and tortured by this vile woman, who made a business of sending out beggars. She taught them
fine speeches of a dying mother, and of starvation,
and taught them to call on the name of the Lord,
and forbade the use of profanity, in order that they
might have a pleasing address; and she was successful.  These little creatures heeded her lessons
so well that they often brought home five dollars
in a single day besides boarding themselves on the
food they received. If they obtained nothing they
were made to go to their bed- which was simply
a blanket on the bare floor- without a mouthful
to eat. Great was the indignation of the officers
and other officials to whom the story came, and a
12 
A CRUEL MISTRESS.- BEGGARS.
heavy fine with a term in the jail was her sentence. She paid the fine by an order on the bank,
which contained seven thousand dollars of her deposits, and after her term had expired she went
into the old business again. All her love and
pity had been crushed out of her in her younger
days by the cruelties of a loved libertine, and no
word of kindness or of counsel could find lodging
in her broken heart. Once she was an angel of
beauty; now an incarnate devil, fit only for cruelty
and remorseless oppression. But to her history I
may again refer; and I will pass on, by saying that
one of the girls is now a teacher in a public school,
while, through the opportunities given by benevolent men and women, all the others have become
noble women and lights in their social ecircles.
II.
OFTEN have I been surprised at the business
tact which I have seen displayed amongr beggars,
and I feel assured that the same economy andshrewdness displayed in a higher scale of business
would entitle them to the respect of the mercantile community. Few persons, old or young, ever
adopt begging as a business without first being
driven into it by starvation or suffering. Yet
thousands, after they have once broken their pride
and gained the courage, continue in it and lay
13
r, 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
away money. Some have been known to own fine
blocks of stone buildings, and still sit by the streetcorners begging.  One of the beggars now seen in
Boston, and whose face and extended hand are as
familiar as the State House, has become so wealthy
that a woman last year married him, saying privately to her friends that she "did not love the
cripple, but could spend some of his money." One
old man who was blind, and who carried about on
his breast the placard "I'm blind," died a few
months ago with fourteen thousand dollars in bankstocks hid away in his old waistcoat. He had not
only begged, but speculated; and in so doing showed
a better fitness for a place in State or Wall Street
than is exhibited by many who are there. One
old sailor, who was forced to beg for food after
having been robbed in North Street, conceived the
idea of collecting the scraps that were so freely
offered him and of selling them to the keepers of
swine. He undertook it in company with a boy
whom he hired, and began to have such an income
that he purchased share after share in a ship. Soon
he became sole owner, and could sail as master of
his own vessel. One of the wealthiest retail merchants on Broadway was once a beggar, living on
kitchen refuse and sleeping on the wharves. Accidentally he found a ten-dollar gold-piece on the
pavement, and, investing it in confectionery for a
little stand on the street-corner, he started in the
14
I 
A POOR BEGGAR-WOMAN.
mercantile career which  has given to himself a
princely fortune and to the world a generous supporter of all that is good.
III.
I REMEMBER a poor beggar-woman, who  came
to the kitchen door one cold day in the winter
of 1858, through whose tattered garments the
frosty wind came at will, and in whose features
there was such an indication of past refinement
that I stared at her with unfeigned surprise. It
seemed as if I had seen her before; and her ways
were so much like the manners in higher grades
of society that I felt as if it was a burlesque
or a practical joke made to surprise me or some
of my friends. But she shivered in the chilling wind, the frost gathered in her hair, her partially bare feet grew purple with cold, as she asked
for a piece of bread to eat. Had she commanded
me to order a carriage and take her to a home on
Beacon Street, I should have been less surprised
than I was to hear her ask for food.'Her high
forehead and large eyes, prominent nose and closefitting lips, round chin and broad shoulders, seemed
to have been made for an empress; and she carried
herself with such unassumed dignity, as she walked
into the kitchen in response to my deferential invitation, that I felt convinced that she had been
15 
N1ATURE'S ARISTOCRACY
one.  And there before the fire and in the soulcheering warmth of the faces that gathered around,
she told her simple story.  She was the daughter
of a wealthy land-holder in Ireland, and was educated in the most polished schools of that island.
But she fell in love with a young farmer, and, as
her parents opposed the marriage, eloped with him
to America. Here they managed to eke out an
existence for three years, during which time she
had two children. Then came poverty and suffering.  Her husband tried to get a place to work in
New York, and afterwards in Boston, without avail.
The place for Irishmen, EVERYBODY said, was on the
railroad. This work he could not do, on account
of his health. Closer grew their poverty and
greater became their wants, until at last in his
misery, disgusted with wife and children, the husband would accept jobs of work for what liquor he
could drink, and, coming home intoxicated, abused
them in a most terrible way. Then she tried for
work. She could teach, she could sew, she could
copy or draft; but nowhere would they take an unrecommended stranger. So in her distress she had
become a beggar. When I inquired why she went
in such rags when a few stitches would make them
more comfortable, she rose to her feet and, taking
hold of the ragged skirt, exclaimed, " When I began to beg, this dress was whole. It was the only
one I had, and I valued it highly. But I found
16
t 
THE WORLD A STAGE.
that the world was a great stage, upon which each
character must appear in a proper dress. I was a
beggar! and while my dress was whole, my face
washed, and my hair combed, no one would give
me a farthing.  So I tore this dress, disarranged
my hair, and rent my shoes that men might believe
my story. For appearance or comfort are nothing
to me compared with the lives of my dear children. Could I only see those poor things, that are
shivering now, with no fire; hungry, and have no
food; crying for'mother,' and she comes not,ay, could I see them in some safe place of refuge,
where no voice should ever say that their mother
was a beggar, O  how  welcome death would be!
The snow-bank would be as soft a pillow, or the
ocean as warm a bed, as this poor bleeding heart
could wish."
I gave her a shawl to cover her bare shoulders,
but she put it under her skirt, saying: "Mary or
he will like it, or I may pawn it; but every comfort which I accept for myself is a curse to me
now.  I am  happiest when freezing, for then I
get food for my dear children."  So saying, she
trod bravely away from the fire, and, like a hero
about to charge a fortress, she swept over the
threshold into the cold drifting snow. And when
I returned from the chilly door-wAay to the fire, after
having watched her fluttering garments as they
disappeared around the next corner, I said to my
B
17 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
self, "Mcany real queens are wit#out a tairoe, and
some are beggars!"
IV.
AH, ye drawing-room beauties and afternoon
belles, ye cannot see the phases of life which the
kitchen-girl sees, nor learn the value of purity
and virtue by a comparison with vice and shame.
If you would but go to the kitchen door in the cold
winter mornings when that hesitating, gentle rap
comes upon the panel, or that timid pull at the
bell, and would look into the little pleading faces
as they tremblingly ask for food, you would find
a field of useful work of more interest than the
latest fashion, and of more importance than last
night's ball.  Many of these beggars, it is true, are
impostors, and others are"runners" for men or
women who make a business of collecting these
contributions. But now and then there comes a
face so beautiful, so innocent, so full of anguish,
and so like an angel in rags, that you feel like asking, her to stay forever.  Little boys I have seen
at the door whose faces fairly shone with the
divine fervor of genius, and whose very walk was
indicative of embryo greatness, but upon whose
dress and tones the mark of poverty was too apparent to be doubted. Bright little cherubs they
were indeed! So much sweeter, nobler, braver,
18
I
II 
BABY MENDICANTS.
than the puny house-dolls which lay above stairs
sleeping in down and damask. Often as I have
turned away from listening to the patter of retreating footsteps I have said to myself, "How proud
the master and mistress of this house would be
if they only had such a son!" Nothing strange
would it be if some one of those little beggarboys should at some time be the successor, if not
the heir, of the owner of the mansion, while the
legitimate heir, according to the human view, goes
as far into poverty as the parents have into wealth
and extravagance.
V.
I RECALL two little children who came to the
door when a cold rain-storm beat against the windows and covered the trees with glistening sleet.
Their little eyes were filled with tears, their fingers
numb, and their clothing drenched.  Sweet little
voices told the maid that they with their mother
were turned out of doors, and they had come for
a piece of bread.  Neither were more  than four
years old, and it seemed hardly possible that so
juvenile a pair could find their way through the
back alleys.
"Are you not cold?" said the maid, as she gave
them a piece of bread.
" No, ma'am," said the little boy, trying to push
19 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
his benumbed hands into his trousers pockets,
"I'm not cold any; but little sister is real cold."
" Will you come in and warm you by the oven?"
asked the maid, at the same time making as if she
would lead them in.
"No mind me, ma'am, but please warm little
sister," said the brave little fellow, holding his
head erect, and looking defiantly up at the storm.
"Mother and I don't mind the cold, but little
sister here is small."
And the brave little fellow remained on the
doorstep like a hero, shivering and aching, having tucked away the piece of bread; and not a
murmur escaped his lips while his little sister
warmed herself and partook of a hearty meal.
He showed no impatience when she came out, but,
taking her warm hand, would have trudged away
with her, had not the maid, who was "trying"
him, called him back and made him understand
that it would not be intruding to warm himself
at the great oven.   Here  we learned that his
mother was the widow of a mechanic, who, having
died a short time before, had left them destitute;
and what added tenfold to the hungry little fellow's heroism was the fact, as he reluctantly admitted, that he had tucked away the little piece
of bread because he was "'fraid mama had
nuthin' t' eat." Wonderful generosity! Providing for his mother and sister, and braving the
20 
THE BRAVE LITTLE BROTHER.
storm cheerfully, while he himself was hungry and
almost freezing! Was not he one of nature's little
noblemen? and will he not, if he wins the hard
battle against caste and custom, become the "head
of the corner"?
21 
CHAPTER III.
ONE GRADE ABOVE THE BEGGARS.
Homes of the Poor. -Why  they are Wretched. -Educated
Women in Distress.- The Old Apple-Woman.- The  Sol dier's Wife. - Comfort and Plenty in Exchange for Virtue.
- Generosity of a Tailoress.-  "Freddie and Mamma won't
cry, will they, Mamma?" - The Sailor's Last Dollar.
I.
0 you call them dells?  You are right; they
are dens. For most assuredly they are not
homes, although they may be  human dwellings.
Ah! how you revolt at the idea of entering those
musty attics and those damp and vermin-filled
cellars! But the lowest stage of human wretchedness will not be seen without such a sacrifice; so
march boldly into the dark passages, the narrow
alleys, and the dangerous stairways, resting assured
that God has called you to a noble work, and will
not leave you without protection.  "The poor ye
have always with you," said the blessed RPedeemer,
and it does seem as if we had many more now
than ever before, while the necessity for such
wretchedness has long since passed. Thousands
I
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HOMES OF THE WRETCHED.
to-day are eating, sleeping, and working in the
bare garrets of old rickety buildings, or gradually
drawing in with each painful breath a deadly potion of consumption or rhleumatism from the dark
cellars of the dirtiest, narrowest, and gloomiest
streets of our great cities. Many of them have a
bundle of straw for a bed, old clothes for quilts,
and nothing for fire.  Do you say that the locality
seems an appropriate place for such wrecks of humanity? Then let me inquire if they made the
locality, or did the locality make them? Is their
coarseness a natural necessity? or have their associations and circumstances made them coarse?
Is their lack of love and respect a natural defect?
or have want and suffering calloused their hearts to
every kind emotion? Are they dishonest? Who
would not be dishonest when with truth came
certain starvation? I tell you to go and see them,
and form an opinion of your own. Ask them who
robbed or swindled them out of an honest livelihood.  Ask them what drunkard consigned them
to such prisons.  Ask them who broke their loving hearts, and abandoned them to the mercies of
the unfeeling world; and fail not to inquire what
landlord oppresses them now, or what employer
cheats them out of rightful wages.   The story
will chill your warmest pulse, and tingle down the
minutest nerve; and if they relate to you the
stories of injustice, crimre, and misfortune which
23
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STATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
they have poured into my reluctant ears, while
noting the intellect and ability which lay hid in
rags, you will be ready to exclaim with me, "0
for the day when God's will shall'be done on earth
as it is in heaven'!"  I shall not venture to say
that all the poor are such from injustice or
from any uncommon misfortune; for some few do
appear to have been born to be poor, and would be
unhappy with plenty of food, clothing, or a pleasant home.  "Constitutionally lazy" some of them
really are, and to attempt to ameliorate their condition would be to offend their sense of right.
But the thousands of natural aristocrats whose
station in society is far above these dirty mendicants, and whose niche has never been filled and
never can be occupied by another, -they are the
subjects  of honest, honorable pity.   Educated
women are to-day in the garrets, working night
and day for the food that scarce sustains life, who
are well fitted for teachers in our academic institutions.
II.
I RECALL an instance where a woman was found
in a lonely garret at the North End of Boston,
who at the time she was discovered was working in a cold room with bleeding fingers, patching
clothes, and who, when questioned by the Captain
of Police who found her, showed a ready knowledge
24
.I 
THE OLD APPLE-WOMAN.
of geometry, Latin, French, and German. She had
rather die than beg; and, failing to get a situation
in the city before starvation came upon her, she
took oldl clothes to menid, and at no time could
she earn enough ahead to pay for a calico dress in
which to imale renewed attempts at the better
ment of her condition.
III.
I REMEMIBEB an old apple-woman who used to
be well known in the tailor-shops of Washington
Street in Boston, and whose face became so familiar to the needle and machine girls that she was
looked upon as a friend. Seldom did she come
into the shop without finding many purchasers for
her fruit and confectionery, and she always had
thanks for all who thus favored her.  No one knew
he r           history, except that she was a lone widow, for
she never spoke of her domestic affairs. The day
cam    e  w hen she was missed from the shops, and
the absence of her genial face and kind smile cast
a       gloom over many a poor sewing-girl who had become        attached to her.  At last, after an interval of
several  weeks, I met her on Boston Common with
her    old basket, slowly tottering toward the shops.
I stopped her and inquired why she had been
absent, although a glance at her pale and wrinkled
fac e  and    sunken cheeks rendered the question un
25
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
necessary.  She said that she had been sick, and was
out that day for the first time in three weeks. I
then asked her who had taken care of her all this
time.  She stared at me an instant as if she would
avoid an answer, and then, dropping her eyes, gave
way to tears, and sobbed out a hysterical "nobody."
And I found it to be a true statement of the case.
She had been three long weeks sick, in a little
attic room, with no care, and with no food except
the little unpalatable biscuit which the baker's
boy brought up for six cents a day as he had done
when she was well.  During the latter part of her
illness she received fifty cents from the wife of a
prominent clergyman, and a promise of fifty cents
per week thereafter. She, however, owed for the
rent of her attic the sum of two dollars, and had
been notified to pay the next day or give it up.
She was in deep distress, and asked for work.
She said that she could not beg, and must earn
whatever she received.   I promised her a piece
of work, for which I paid in advance that she
might pay her rent, and then took her to a lady
whose benevolence had been heralded far and
wide. Here I told her story and asked assistance.
But the old lady refused to take a gift, as she was
not a beggar, but an applicant for work.   This
offended the lady, and we were sent away without
assistance merely because the old lady wished to
live one grade above the beg,gar.  Not only this,
26 
A HEPO AND IIEPOINE.
but the offended one sent a note to the clergyman's
wife, and caused her to withdraw the promised fifty
cents a w-eel, leaving the poor old lady utterly
destitute. Then it was, when she was abandoned
by all, and left to face starvation alone, that she
rose above her station and showed the natural
majesty of her soul.  She seized her basket, and,
smiling cheerfully, pointed upward with a significant gesture, and trudged away with the air of
one who, though in darkness, sees light ahead and
is determined to wait not by the way. It was not
many times that the landlord called for rent, and
but a short time to look back upon, before the
old lady found a home in that free mansion prepared for such as her before the foundation of the
world.
IV.
IT was said by the members of the Twenty-Fifth
A]assachusetts Pegiment, in the fall of 1863, that
Pichard kheim had deserted to the enemy.  The
circumstances connected with his disappearance
were such that the captain of his company deemed
it safe to report him on the pay-roll as "a deserter."  0, how little did the captain know of the
heroism displayed by Richard when he was capturedl by the enemny, or of the tortures he was enduring in a Georgia prison at the timne the report
was made!  For verily he was a hero.  Eighteen
27
I
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
monthls of prison life, however, reduced him  to  a
mnere skeleton, and althliough hle recovered sufficiently to be able to walk about, he never was strong
enough to work at his trade again.  For a short
time after his return from the war he felt quite
encouraged, and, believingl, that he would soon be
strong again, he began a job of light work, and
married one of the brightest graduates  of the
Boston public schools.  But years passed, and his
health gradually failed, until in 1869 his general
debility turned into consumption.  Then, without
money or vwages, the poor fellow was  obliged to
see his little wife work night and dlay with  her
needle to support him  and the two little children.
Both were well educated, refined, and noble; and
such a lot must have been hard indeed.  For a
while this brave  little heroine  supported  the
family wvell; paying the rent, buying the food and
fuel, as well as caring witlh wonderful neatness
and skill for all her hliousehlold duties.  She had a
way of turning,  patchliing, and  mending  whicli
made old garments look as fresh and wear as well
as new, and the little girl and  thle baby were
thought by visitors to be the prettiest children in
thle nleighliborhood.   Soon, however, the doctor's
bills, the delicacies, and extra fire for her invalid
hiusband made a greater demand on her purse than
it could supply, and she began, in spite of the
closest economy and the greatest frugality, to fall
28
I 
THE TEMPTER.
behind.  Soon her rent was overdue, and the landlord became insolent; the grocer was not paid, and
hlie r3fusedl to supply her with more bread; and at
last, vwhen she had not taken food for two days and
her children w\ere crying for somethingi to eat, she
determined to go into the imarts of trade and ask
for assistance. Iler husband was confined to his
bed, the doctor would not come, and they must
move or pay their rent at once. She had never
begged, and did not know what to say or to whom
to apply.  -tLut she knew that the richest men
of Boston assembledcl on State Street, and to that
place she went with a heart full of hope.   She
did not see how men with plenty of money could
refuse her truthful and heartfelt appeal, or turn a
deaf ear to her touching story.
But they did. From one broker's office to another, froIn banllk to warehouse, and to all classes
of men this woman applied for aid.  Not one cent
did she get;  while many cursed her and thrust
her rudely aside.  At last she determined to make
one more effort, and, going into a broker's office,
tricmblingly told her story.  Imagine, if you can,
her consternation when coldly informed that she
was not vcry poor as long as she had her virtue
to sell, and he -  the wretch -would give her a
fifty-dollar bill for that.
She fled from him as from a viper, and dared not
look back until she had turned the corner; and
29 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
then the broken-hearted little woman sat down in
a door-way and wept the bitter tears of despair.
Then it was- as if the cup of her sorrow was not
yet full- that another man spoke kindly to her,
and, after drying her tears with comforting assurances, made another vile proposition, and offered her
in exchange for her purity money without stint. 0
the vile monster! How can there be a God of justice when such hellish fiends are permitted to prosper! The little sufferer was too stricken to be indignant at the second blow, and exclaiming " I cannot! I cannot!" tried to break away from him. He
was attracting the attention of passers-by, so he
permitted her to go; but not before he told her
where she could find him if she should conclude
to accept his offer. 0, who can tell the torture
of mind which the conflict of the most powerful of
human emotions inflicted upon her!  Her home
was cold and cheerless when she arrived; there
was no wood for a fire, no medicine for the dying
one, no food for the pleading children. What a
temptation it was to accept the wicked offer of the
libertine! But she held out until the sight of her
watch and chain reminded her of a pawn-shop, and
at an early hour on the following day she paid her
rent by pledging the valued gift of a deceased
mother. Then with her clothing, furniture, and
little jewelry which she pawned she gained a respite of another month. But the time came when
30
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DISCOVERED AT LAST.
she had lost irretrievably all she had pawned, and
had nothing left to pledge except the blankets of
her husband's bed.  Could she take them?  No.
She had thus far studiously kept the invalid igno   rant of their poverty, and often tried to excuse tlhe
"neglect" of which he sometimes complained by
saying that she "must go away sometimes to get
work."  Could she pawn the blanket?  Should
she take that comfort from him, and bear the blame
which his ignorance of the true state of affairs
would make him ascribe to her; or should she
sell herself to the cursed tempter? Hard question
for a poor hungry woman to decide; but she finally
took the blanket. 0 ye that have not known
poverty, and over whose heads is a comfortable
home, think how that hungry and shivering woman
must have felt when at midcnight of an unexpect edly frosty night, as she was crouching in the
corner over her children to keep them warm, she
heard her husband feebly calling from the other
room, "2Mary! Mary!  I ar? cold! Please bring
nme anotTer blanket."
She tried to shape an excuse, but she could think
of none.  Her tongue could not tell him a delib   erate falsehood, and after trying to strip her own
dress off to place on his bed, she broke completely
down; and in a burst of anguish told him  the
whole  painful story.  Ah! how  he  must have
chafed at the insult offered to his wife, and how
31 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
his manly heart swelled as the truth broke upon
him! That night of heroic misery should have
been enoulgh to blast forever the prosperity of every
banker that refused her assistance.  Hie thought
of the State aid for soldiers, and the next day she
applied for it.  But he was entered on the rolls as
a deserter, and, although there was sufficient proof
of his capture, she must wait for the rolls to be
corrected at Washingcton.  Another fortnight crept
along, during which time this wife worked until
midnight upon the pants she  made, and began
again every morning at four o'clock.  The appearance of a lilght so late and so early attracted the
attention of the neilghbors, and the story of her
poverty began to gain circulation.   Then a soldier of the State  Surgeon-General's staff heard
the tale and extended a generous hand to the family; providing for their necessities, and promising
the stricken husband, who shortly after died in his
arms, that the heroic wife should have a protector.
This in the city of Boston, where genius, patience, and merit are supposed to be always rewarded 
A FErV years ago a poor tailoress, whose earnings
would scarcely support her when used in the closest manner, had so large a heart and such executive
ability that she conceived the idea of organizing
32
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I.
V.
.1
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THE GENEROUS POOR.
a "sewing-society" amongr  her  poorer  acquaintances, and, by giving to each person the part of the
work for which she was the best fitted, making the
agg,regate earnings larger than they would  be if
the party worked  independently of each other.
Among, other women whlom  she assisted in this
way was an old lady eighty years of age, who was
addicted to drink, but who, when in a sober state,
was as sociable  and nimble as many women at
forty.  The influence of the tailoress upon the old
lady was such that the latter wholly reformed,
and became a pleasant and agreeable companion.
Soon, however, her eyesight failed, and she could
not work with the others. The tailoress then, to
whom the old lady was no relation, and only a
short time even an acquaintance, undertook to
work more hours, and more steadily during hours,
in order that she might support this old blind
woman. It did not occur to her that it was possible to get assistance from the city authorities, and
for a whole year she labored on in her work of
love, caring for and nursing the aged invalid as if
she were the tailoress's own mother.  One day the
old lady told "a secret," and said that she had a
son, a rich banker in Boston; and the tailoress
proceeded immediately to find him.  She succeeded after a whole day's search, and found him in
one of the largest banking-houses in the city, and
learned that he was worth over three hundred thou
33
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
sand dollars.  To her petition for an interview he
sent the impudent reply that he did not receive
shop)-yirls in his counting-room.  But she persisted
in her request, and, after a direct refusal, marched
into his private office, and there, face to face, told
him of his agedl mothler. The merchant cursed the
old lady and all her associates, refused to pay anything toward her support, and, acknowledging the
woman to be his mother, rudely thrust the tailoress out of the door. For years thereafter that poor
tailoress divided her little wages with the old lady,
and was at last the only mourner at the disowned
mother's secluded grave. The tailoress has since
died, and another of the noble poor added to the
roll that has been called in a never-ending eternity.
A  GENTLE-fAN was  passing  the magnificently
decorated windows of a city toy-shop, when his attention was called to a lady who was dressed in
mourning, and who led a little boy about five years
old. He was evidently his mother's only son, and,
as her husband was deceased, her only love. The
little boy saw a plaster-cast in the window representing two little kittens, giggling and grinning
together in a most comical way; and, as it was near
Christmas, he wished his mother to purchase it for
him.  But the lady turned aside with a sigh, and,
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GENEROUS FREDDIE.- SAILOR FRIENDS.   35
wiping away a tear, said, " Not now, Freddie; we are
Poor."  The little boy appeared disappointed for a
moment and glanced wistfully back at the window,
while his mother tried to call his attention to the
passing teams.  But when he happened to look up,
and noticed that his mother was crying, he suddenly assumed a most cheerful look, and, seizing
his mother's hand, danced about her, calling out in
a conciliatory way, "We are poor, ain't we, mamma?  0 yes, we are poor.  But tlwe don't mind it,
do we, mamma?  Freddie don't want no kittens nor
presents, does he, mamma?  No, Freddie  won't
have a Christmas present,'cause he don't want
any, for he and mamma are poor! We won't cry
over it; will we, mamma?"
There was nobility in that little body, even
though his father was an oysterman.
VII.
Two sailors, who had been together for years,
and upon whose heads had descended many a
storm, came on shore at the port of Boston for the
first time in three years.  One was a liberal, openhearted spendthrift; while the other, having some
pet purpose, placed what money he could in the
savings-bank. In an hour of temptation the spendthrift stole his companion's bank-book, and, forging
the signature, drew out the money.   It was only
I 
NATUPRE'S ARISTOCRACY.
three hundred dollars, but to those toil-worn sailors
it looked like a very large sum indeed. I saw the
culprit in the police-court clocks, and I believe that
when he said "I'm sorry," he said it out of regard
for his old friend rather than in fear of the law.
It was forgery, and the case was postponed until
thle next term of the Superior Court.  After the
prisoner was staken to the jail, his comnpanion obtained permission to visit him, and, going' to the
cell door, spoke nearly as follows: "Tom, I did not
suppose that they would shut you up like this, as I
only wanted my money, which would n't do you
any good.  If I could g,et you out, I would do it
now, for old love's sake, Tom.   But I cannot; so
don't feel bad, you'11 get out some time. Here is
my last dollar until the Judge pays back that
which you had, and I don't know where I can get
any more, but what I do get I will divide with
you. You are a prisoner and I am free, so I'11 take
care of you. Don't be sad, Tom. I won't leave
you. I'11 cruise about and heave-to in front of
this cell every day to see if you are in distress.
Don't mind your quarters, Tom, but th{>7o of gooc
old times wvhen yoth and I  uerc cafoe tote m?ast."
How many instances of noble generosity, as well
as of refinement and ability, I might relate to prove
that nature is not impartial, I cannot now say.
The very thought brings to muind so many cases
that I am almost ready to declare that man has,
36
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THE SOLDIIER'S WIDOW.
by some strange interposition, reversed the true
order and thrown aside the fittest material for the
construction of human society. Oidy one grade
above the beggars are found industrious, ingenious,
economical, stout, and generous-hearted men and
women, whose proper mission would seem to be
that of elevating and ennobling the race, instead of
the life of nonentity which, as far as human progress is concerned, they now lead.
VIII.
ONE warm day in the summer of 1869 I was
called upon by a lady who stated that she needed
assistance, and wished me to recommend her to
some of the charitable institutions of the State or
city. She was rather small in stature, having dark
hair, blue eyes, with a girlish face, indicative of a
loving and trusting disposition.   Her sweet, musi   cal voice was sufficient proof that no false words
could be coined from it, and her sunken cheeks
and worn dress "were confirmations strong as
Holy WAVrit." She was evidently in the deepest
distress, and I listened with great eagerness to
the story which she had to tell. She was a sol   dier's widow; or, rather, she thought she was, - for
in 1865 she received a locket and chain with her
little girl's ambrotype, and a partially destroyed
letter, said to have belonged to her husband, and
37 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
found by a comrade on the person of a rebel.
Whether her husband was dead or not she could
never positively ascertain, although she entertained no doubt of it, and these keepsakes sent
her by a member of his company were of the
greatest value to her.  Since the war she had been
at work upon white skirts, for which she received
sixty-two cents a day, and, being fortunately possessed of a sewing-machine, she was able to do
the work and attend to her other duties.
But her little girl was taken sick, and she could
not then work all the time, neither could she keep
her expenses within her income. She tried to
live upon old crusts of bread and cold Indian pudding, but her child grew worse upon it, while she
became so weakened that she was almost insane.
At the time when she applied to me she wore
her only dress, and she was so nearly famished
that her mind wandered, and her memory seemed
to fail her altogether.   But when the generous
hand of General Dale, the Surgeon-General of the
State of Massachusetts, had opened, as it had so
generously to hundreds of others, and together
with'the great assistance given by the Superintendent of the Boston Soldiers' Messenger Corps,
had placed her and her child beyond the reach of
starvation, and redeemed from the pawnbroker's
the locket and other gifts which she valued highly,
her failing mental faculties came back in full vigor,
38
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THE DESERTED WIFE.
while the child, having proper food, soon became
robust and healthy.
One day, while conversing with her about her
husband, I suggested the idea that he might have
returned and never have taken the pains to find
her, or that lie might have abandoned her to live
with another woman. I shall never forget her look
of pain as she held up her hands protestingly, and
exclaimed, "0 don't, don't say that!"   But an
investigation which was soon after instituted in her
behalf proved that my supposition was the true
state of the case, and that, instead of being killed
or captured, the wretch had come home to Vermont witlh his regiment, and had gone off with
another woman.   It was hard to break the news
to her when the truth was known, and she
withered under it like a leaf. 0, it was sufficiently heart-rending to think of him as dead
and buried in an unknown grave; but that was a
pleasure to the pangs which this devoted heart
felt when told that he lived and had deserted her!
WVhat bitter tears she wept!
It was then, when her sorrow culminated in the
darkest despair, that the nobility of her character,
which had shone so brightly through all her trials,
gleamed still brighter than ever before. Without
saying a word to the parties concerned, she went
and pawned again the piece of jewelry and her
clothes, and, managing, by reducing herself to ern
39 
4NATURE' S ARISTOCRACY.
tire destitution, to get the amount of money which
she had received from General Dale and Captain
Balcom, she went to return it, saying, "I cannot
keep the money you gave me; for, instead of being
a soldier's widow, I amnt a deserted wivfe." They
told her that she must keep that which she had,
and promised to give her larger amounts, saying
that she needed it all the more if she was deserted.
Reluctantly she accepted the money "for her
child's sake," and she now comes often to thank
her benefactors, and tell them about her child, in
languagcre which establishes her unsued claim to
natural superiority.
I
40
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~
CHAPTER IV.
CRI'ME AND  NOBILITY.
Able Criminals.- Fall of Companions. - Wellie's Fate.
MJartha the Actress.- The Able Gambler.- Loss of Caste.
- A Writer in the House of Correction.- She is not worth
Saving.-  "The Prisoner's Friend." - Who is responsible
for Crime.
T  does seem to me that there are times when,
notwvithstanding the scripture, it is eminently
wise to "thankl God that we are not as other men";
and \when the wisdom of that celebrated divine
who never saw a thief, drunkard, or murderer
without saying to himself, "It mittt have been
me," is fully confirmed.   The thieves, robbers,
swindlers, libertines, and murderers are usually
taken from the most intelligent part of the community, as far as natural talent is concerned; and
the causes which served to make them what they
are have come from a faulty education, or the circumstances arising from an unnatural state of society. Lives of prisoners and public statistics prove
II
5
I. 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
the ability and intellectual power of this class of
human beings; while examples are not wanting in
the history of any day to prove the generosity,
the honor, and the ingenuity of many men and
women whom the law justly calls criminals. It is
not my purpose to discuss in this chapter all the
reasons why such talent is prostituted to such
base purposes, nor to suggest the remedy.   For
the facts I relate seem to point out their own
remedy in a clearer and more forcible manner
than any writer, however gifted, could do.
I would remark, however, that, as society is
responsible for crime, each individual is also
responsible as far as he aids, or stands by without
opposing, the institutions and laws which contribute toward these evils; and that, if there is
any reckoning for the deeds done here in the
body, the wickedness of sinning by masses will
be as severely punished as that of sinning, separately and alone.
II.
IT is a delicate as well as painful subject which
I am here obliged to introduce in justice to the
readers of this book, and I touch upon it with
hesitation and fear. Its nature, as well as its
enormity, cautions us to speak of it in whispers,
and to hide our faces as we hint at the evils which
we dare not describe.
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WELLIE THE SHOP-GIRL.
Tears will flow, and my heart will wildly throb,
when I think of some of the dear, dear friends
whom I once knew and loved, whose lives were
so full of sorrow, and ended in so much shame.
Bosom companions, who once confided to me all
their little plans, all their griefs and hopes, all
their purposes and desires, and whose walks were
so upright and thoughts so pure, have appeared
again to me in after years haggard and wrinkled,
liveried in vice and crime, and filled with everything that was  disgusting and bad.   0, what a
wreck woman can be if perchance she fall!
III.
ONE sweet face comes back to me now, and
seems to cheer me on in my chosen work, although it is years since that sunny countenance
disappeared from my companionship. Dear Wellie, how I loved you! How your bright eyes won
me when first I saw you, and what a halo of holy
light seemed to surround you wherever you went!
How well I remember your kindness, your charity,
your cheerfulness and industry!  We were "shopgirls" then, WVellie, and yet we were as happy as
the proudest queens. We thought that it would
always last, and that you and I would always
love each other and be ever boon companions.
They told me that it was you, Wellie, whom I
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
saw yesterday so coarse and ungainly; but I do
not believe them. It may. be that it was your
body, but it cannot have been your so?el. You
used to walk nimnbly and uprightly, but that creature was clumsy and stooping.  Your face was as
bright as the sunlight; that woman, whom they
now  call by  your name, wore  a countenance
dark as night.  I remember your clear musical
tones, and thie purity and innocence of every word
and thought. Yesterday that woman (0, it could
not have been you!) was coarse, hoarse, vulgar,
and even profane.   0 Wellie, my nearest, dearest
friend, how can I tell them your story! Yet I
must tell them, for it may serve to prevent the
transformation of some other womian's friend;
and, besides, you will not mind it, I know, for the
curses you gave me when I entreated you to return to the ways of virtue are strong evidence
that you are beyond the reach of human counsel,
and that there is no modesty or sense of shame
is
remaining.
Wellie Wallace was once an ornament to society, and her character was noble, hi,ghl-minded,
generous, and pure. Her life was as full of hope
as that of the fairest maid that breathes.  But
to her heroism (strange as it may seem) is due the
great change in her moral, mental, and physical condition. She loved a navy officer, and toward him
her whole soul went out in the purest and most
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A HARD-HEARTED MOTHER.
confiding admiration. iHe loved her truly and sincerely, as I firmly believe, and intended to make
her his wife as soon as she had finished the education for which lie supplied the means.  She studied hard, and was deserving of all his praise for
her astonishing progress. She loved refined and
educated company, and the librarians all knew her
face and bowed when she approached. But, alas!
it seemed as if she had been lifted to this great
height only that she might sink the deeper when
the fall came.
Her lover had a hard-faced, aristocratic mother,
who regarded her own family as a highier order of
beings than the world usually saw, and she could
not bear the thought of a marriage in which her
son would unite with a person once a " shop-girl."
So she opposed the marriage in every annoying
way.   But, notwithstanding all her threats, the
young man was true to Wellie and his promise.
At last the old widow conceived the idea of attacking the other party, and, without consulting
her son, took her fine carriage and was driven to
the residence where Wellie lived.  Poor Wellie!
She was taken by surprise, and she lost the battle almost without a show of resistance.  For the
old lady said that her son was dissipated, in debt,
and unable to live on his salary; and that if
he married WAVellie, all his family would disown
him and leave him  penniless.   She knew  that
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
if he was disowned he would lose his place in
the navy, and nothing but a life of drunken
poverty would follow, and perhaps an unnatural
death; while, if Wellie would release him, she, his
mother, would settle a fortune upon him, and he
could marry an heiress and become the great man
that she had always expected him to be. A decision was demanded at once, for on that very day
the fortune was to be made or lost. What could
Wellie do but follow the promptings of a noble,
disinterested love? and although it was crushing
her soul into nothingness, she consented in tears
to let him go. She wrote the letter at the old
lady's dictation, bidding, him never to come again,
and with desperation signed her name in that cold
way, without prefix or affix, and gave it to his
mother.  The      old  wom an w as overjoyed at  her
success, and, caring little for that heart whose joy
had forever fled, she hurried to her son, and, taking
him away, tried to win his affection from WVellie,
She knew the arts and temptations which would
lure him from his old love, and finally he married
the heiress whom his mother had selected for him,
and people declared in their ignorance that it was a
"lucky match."
From that day when Wellie came and told me
her great sorrow and wildly called for death, I saw
no more of her until yesterday; although I had
heard that hle had written her, and offered to fly with
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THE ORPHAN ACTRESS.
her and leave his luxurious home; and that Wellie
refused to so punish his innocent wife. Yesterday she was-   But I will not describe her novw,
it is too shocking. I love to think of her only as
she was when I knew her and loved her so muclt.
IV.
MANY ot my readers will remember Martha
Varley, who rose like a meteor and like a meteor
fell. It seems as if it were only yesterday that
she came to me and told me that she had, through
influential friends, secured an opportunity to go
upon the stage.  She had a passion for literature,
and her life seemed to exist in books. The works
of Pope, Dryden, Byron, Shelley, Airs. HemIans,
Moore, Tennyson, and Longfellow lay upon her
t able, with those of Carlisle, Addison, Victor Hugo,
Schlegel, Franklin, Scott, and Dickens,- nearly all
the gifts of friends, and were dotted and crossed,
from title-page to finis, with marks of censure
or approval.  Her wages had been  exceedingly
small, seldom over one dollar a day, and she was
an orphan.  Yet she managed to purchase many
books, and so wonderful was her memory that she
could repeat AIacbeth and Hamlet by heart.
So she went on the stage.  I tried to dissuade
her, and spoke of its dangers; for stage lovers, like
good musicians have finer feelings, and are more
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
easily tempted than any other class. But she drew
for me so graphically the scenes she loved, and
spoke so earnestly of the joy it would give her to
earn sufficient wages to purchase all the books she
desired, at the same time promising so resolutely
and touchingly that she would certainly avoid the
pits into vwhich so many others had fallen, that I
at last consented.
Her first appearance was advertised for a succeeding night, and I went to the theatre, that she
might have the encouragement which she said the
presence of her friends would give her. She was
not,given a leading part, because the managers
were afraid that she lacked confidence in herself;
but they promised that she should have such a
place on the following week, provided they were
pleased with her first attempt.
The play had passed into the second act before
she appeared, and as it was awkwardly put upon
the stage and many of the players were bunglers,
the audience were getting quite tired.  Some left
thie house in the midst of the best scenes, and the
occupants   of the galleries began to hiss and w histle.                           I cannot   describe my feelings  as th e    time
drew nearer for Martha's                appearance, and  th e  dissatisfaction grew more and more evident. What
should I do? I could neither go nor stay, and
I                           became so excited that my escort inquired if
I were ill. I wanted to go and warn her to aban
I
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. ON THE STAGE.
don the attempt until another night.   But so conflicting were my emotions that the scene changred
and Martha appeared while I was in my  seat.
The audience were laughing and talking aloud;
and many were throwing bits of paper about the
hall, while others were showing their displeasure
by shrill hissing and hooting.   I expected that
Martha would hesitate and tremble, and I did not
think that in the face of those obstacles she could
open her mouth to speak. But she came on as naturally and unconcernedly as the oldest actors, and
with a calinm, deferential manner undertook her part.
She was a beautiful woman at any time, but in the
rich stage dress, decorated with tinsel and sparkling beads, she did appear to me like an angel.
The audience recognized her beauty, while they
seemed to cower into silence before her pure and
intellectual face. She had not spoken a word before the audience were wrapped in attention, and
at the first sentence the applause began. On went
the scene, and Martha glided in and out, and so
much Aeart did she put into her words that she held
the closest attention of the audience until she
tripped from the stage amid almost deafening applause. She saved the reputation of the company;
and the appreciative managers, in response to the
united demand of audience and press, gave her a
leading part on the following Monday evening.
The house was crowded in every part for many
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
weeks, and she was made the "star actress" of a
long and prosperous season, after which she visited
several of the largest cities of America.
Soon she became so noted, and received such a
large income, that she had a well-furnished house
of her own, with a library of her own selection.
People said that she was rich, and I thought so too,
as she began gradually to withlidraw from her old
friends and to prefer the society of flatterers and
gay people of the world. Soon she was too exalted
to feel at home in my society, and our companionship entirely ceased.  That was more than twelve
years ago, during which time I had lost all trace
of my old confidante, and seldom thought of her
otherwise than as gifted, rich, and happy.
On the evening of the 27th of October, 1869, as
I was coming from a poor family to whose assistance I had been called, and who lived in the lowest and dirtiest part of Boston, I met upon the
sidewalk a ragged, besotted woman, whose bloated
face, bloodshot eyes, and unsteady step indicated
the presence of that demon of drunkenness, and
whose uncombed hair and filthy apparel showed
the absence of all shame or neatness. When she
was about to pass me, I stepped off the sidewalk
to give her room, and scrutinized her features.
She did not look up as she passed, but there was
something about the features which seemed familiar, and almost before I was aware of my own
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THE VAGRANT.
conclusion, I shudderingly gave a whispered exclamation, and the word " [cartha?" escaped my lips.
The woman started as if she had been dealt a furiouis blow, darted a frightened glance at me, and
then began to run. But, stopping only a few paces
farther away, she again turned toward me, and,
clenching her hands above her head and turning
her red eyes heavenward, exclaimed, "0 Jennie,
can it be that I am discovered by you? O my
God, could not I have died without this torture?
Jennie, for old friends' sake, O don't, don't think
it is me! It is n't ien! it is n't me!"  Then, pausincg for a moment, as if to recall the past, she struck
her breast a heavy blow, saying,
"No, it is not me. Your old friend Martha died
years ago. I'm only the moving skeleton."
And before I could reply she turned again, and,
like a frightened doe, sped down the street and
around a corner; and doubtless passed from my
sight forever.
V.
IN 1867 there was called up in the dock of the
Philadelphia police-court a large man, whose high
forehead and bright eyes attracted the attention of
every one in court.  As he stood up in answer to
his name, the crowd gazed upon him with silent
astonishment, and seemed to feel that a great soul
liven within the prisoner,- too great to be accused
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
of crime.  It was "Willard the gambler."   He was
one of the finest classical scholars of the time,
and Latin, Greek, and Hebrew were as familiar
to him as to the most learned professors, and he
could converse with Frenchmen, Germans, and
Italians with astonishing fluency.   He was a firstclass literary critic, and a far-seeing politician,
Tlwhose interest in passing events was so great
that there was scarcely a periodical in the United
States to which he was not a subscriber. Yet he
was the greatest gambler in Philadelphia.
When the little judge, who seemed to be smaller
in the presence of this majestic form, asked the
gambler what he had to say for himself, his reply
was, " Nothing."
"But," said the Judge, "have you nothing to
say when a man of your talent and education is
brought up as a common gambler?"
"May it please your Honor," exclaimed the gambler, excitedly, "I said that I had nothing to say,
because my actions are all the justification I have
to plead.   Blackstone, Chitty, and Choate have
declared, as your Honor well knows, that law is for
the protection of society against its enemies.  My
actions show that I am not an enemy to society.
It is well known that I play with none but
wealthy men, while the sums I win are given to
the poor, or used in educating such young men as
have genius but no money. If you condemn me
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THE GAMBLER. -  CHARITY.
to confinement, fifty boys must be taken from
school, and a hundred mouths in this city will go
unfed.  I am not a gambler from choice, but from
necessity.  And my games are not antagonistic to
society. Its present structure is such that I must
game that others may be honest and noble, while
to be arrested and fined or imprisoned is a sacrifice
I gladly make to sustain the dignity of the law,
which I shall be obliged, however, to break as soon
as I am released."
VI.
TWENTY years ago, in the town of Somerville,
Mass., there lived an aristocratic man and wife
whom the world said were well worthy of their
riches and position.  They were both generous,
gifted, and active, full of good works, and never
lacking in sympathy for those whose scale of being
was socially below them.  They were reported to
possess fabulous riches because they were so gen  erous with their money and never turned a deserv  ing suppliant away empty. They were also proud,
and looked upon their position in society as on
somethling deserving of praise.  But their riches
were not fabulous; neither was their income suffi   cient to feed all the poor of Massachusetts, and con   sequently their means began to fail.  They, how   ever, worked diligently with mind and hands to
sustain their position and fortune. The wife, with
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
commendable industry, obtained sewing, and the
sewing-machine for the time took the place of the
piano. The husband worked early and late in his
store; and but for a sudden and unforeseen reverse
by which he lost his whole stock in trade, he
would doubtless have repaired their fortune.
WAith his reverses and disappointments came
recklessness and despair, and in a darker hour than
he usually saw he forged a note in hope of recovering, himself without disgrace, and believing that
he could pay the note before the party concerned
should know of it. Of course he failed, was arrested, and sentenced to fifteen years' servitude in
the State prison. Even Riufus Choate's eloquence
could not save him. His wife, in her anxiety
to save her husband from such disgrace, sold her
jewelry, furniture, dresses, and everything to raise
the money, which the party whose name was
forged would not take in lieu of her husband's
release. Soon after he died in prison.
Then she fell into recklessness and sin, and
became but a wreck of the high-minded creature
she once was.   At  last, arrested for common
drunkenness, she was sentenced to three years'
confinement in the house of correction. There,
away from liquor and vile associates, the natural
greatness of her soul began again to show itself,
and in her leisure time she wrote a poem so
full of deep and tender emotion, so polished and
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THE PRISON POET. -SAVING WOMAN.
thoughtful, that it was copied in nearly all of the
best periodicals of the land, and received praises
of which Tennyson might well be proud. The
only lines which I now recall are these,
"Would you know why I'm leagued with this Despair?
Because hell is heaven if he is there."
She afterwards wrote an article entitled " The Affectionate Lowly," in which she gave a sketch of
her life, and referred to the beggars and the needy
whom her husband had fed, and told -O so
touchingly!- how those outcast mendicants cared
for her when she was reduced to their level. How
they carried her home when intoxicated, took her
part when she was assailed, and offered their last
cent in the payment of her fine when she was
arrested. "Verily," says she, "even the thieves
and beggars have a generous friendship which I
never knew in the days of high life."
VII.
"SHE is not worth saving," said a police-officer
one night, in Chicago, when, as he was dragging a
drunken child of shame along toward the stationhouse, he was accosted by a woman with the
words, "Why not try to reform and save her?"
She is not worth saving! ah, how concisely
did that officer express the sentiment of human
society toward the unfortunate women. Man may
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
fall again and again, may dwell in the gutter
for years, and become a loathsome, diseased,
besotted wretch, and yet it is never said of him,
" He is not worth saving." On the contrary, the
people seem to think that a man who has been
a libertine and a drunkard has done some noble
thing, and it is all to his credit if, after his reform,
he should even run for public office, or become a
public lecturer.   Ay! if he falls several times
after having once reformed, it adds to his dignity,
and increases his influence.  What audience would
gather to listen to a reformed woman? or what
office opens its doors to her? None. Once an
outcast she seems in the eyes of society to be an
outcast forever.   Not worth saving!   0 that I
could for once force open that barrier to progress,
the mock modesty of society, and feel at liberty to
tell without curses or hisses the plain, simple facts
which have been forced into my pathway as I
have tried to aid the unfortunate. Not worth
saving!  Bright little children I know, as innocent as the blush of morning, whose widowed
mothers are leading a life of social crime to support those children as they need to be supported.
Aged parents I know, living in happy ease, little
dreaming that their dear daughter earns the money
which supports them in an unlawful manner, or
that they might starve if she was pure and honest.
More than this. Husban(ds I know, and I see their
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"NOT WORTH SAVING."
pale faces often now, whose wives have failed to
get bread and medicine for them in a legitimate
way, and in their despair have become awful criminals for very love's sake. You who doubt my
word - and such there may be- have only to go to
the criminals in the docks, and confess yourself a
friend of the wretched and unfortunate, to be convinced beyond a doubt. Hundreds are criminals
for food, others from despair. Few indeed are the
women that are in the way of vice from choice.
Thousands would  reform if they could, but at
every attempt the heartless hand of society thrusts
them indignantly back.  "There is a light in the
window for thee, brother"; but no one ever heard
of one there for his sister.
Not that I would censure the efforts made to
reform fallen men. For God knows that I rejoice
at the salvation of every human being, and while
my heart gladdens at what is done for man, it only
makes a darker picture of what is not done for
woman.  To save every being to whom  the Almighty has given a human soul would seem to be
the true theory. But discussion finds place better
perhaps in subsequent chapters, and as it is facts
that I am now giving, I will relate one more, and
for the present pass over a topic about which, if
the world would receive it, a thousand volumes
could be written.
3*
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
VIII.
IT has been but a few months since I visited
the "Prisoner's Friend," at Pawtucket, RP. I., whose
generosity toward the prisoners, as well as his eccentric manners, have made him somewhat notorious in the New England States. He has given the
convicts many  Christmas  dinners, and supplied
many a suffering man with money while working
out a sentence for crime.  HIe has devoted his
whole life to the alleviation of suffering within the
prison walls. Hundreds of men are the recipients
of his favors who never saw him or heard of him,
until the present came which he prepared with
his own hands.  His cabinet is full of keepsakes,
souvenirs  and relics of prison life; and with
each there is connected a story, most thrilling
when told in his simple, affectionate way.
Having, a long chain of gold pieces combined
in a most curious manner, I inquired what it was
for. In his characteristically queer way he spoke
of the chain which was placed upon the neck of the
Prodigal Son, and said that this chain was made
by himself for a prisoner who was serving out a
sentence of sixteen years' servitude for the murder
of a young man who seduced the prisoner's betrothed. The prisoner, he said, was an honest,
innocent farmer's boy, while the seducer was rich
and aristocratic, profligate and drunken; and such
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THE PRISONER'S FRIEND.
a nobleness of character had the prisoner displayed
in prison that the chain was prepared with which
to welcome his return.  Fromr this circumstance
conversation passed to others, and instance after
instance was cited where men had become criminals through injustice, cruelty, or unkindness.
Murderers, robbers, thieves, and swindlers came
before me, as, in his fascinating way, he moved the
curtain of his conversational panorama, and I felt
even more forcibly than ever before how many
criminals are such from necessity, and how much
wickedness the individuals of our States and communities have to answer for, which in this present
time is loaded upon the shoulders of their instru
ments in prison.
59 
CHAPTER V.
NEWSBOYS AND BOOTBLACKS.
Success in Life. - Their Genius and Education. - Newsboys'
"Home." - Dividing the Profits. - You may borrow, but
you shall never pay.
I.
T is not my purpose to give in this chapter the
many cases where bootblacks and newsboys
have become wealthy and influential men; for
m      a       n       y        whose names I find in  the "scra p-book"
would object to the publication of their lives. A
correspondent of the Boston Traveller, writing in
1857, stated that there were then " ten leading
editors   of New York who were once newsboys,
four in Boston, twelve in Philadelphia, and fifteen
in Chica,o." The newsboys,                   however, oftener
seek other employments, and a far greater number
of them are now among the merchants, army officers, politicians, and representatives of our country, than in the editorial fraternity; while men
who once blacked boots on the corners or in the
hotels are to be found now in nearly every cocn
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NATURE AND THE BOOTBLACKS.
munity as manufacturers, merchants, aldermen,
mayors, and congressmen; and even governors and
senators have started, when boys, in the same humble trade. The reason why so many boys in this
profession have succeeded so well in life is because
the natural qualifications which fit them for bootblacks and newsboys are elements of success in
the higher branches of labor and trade.  A successful newsboy or an accomplished shoeblack
will make as shrewd a trade as a Jew, and will
weigh all its advantages and disadvantages with
the wisdom of a banker. This is owing, no doubt,
partially to his street education. But to argue that
he is indebted to that for all his talent would be to
prove that boys in higher circles, who do not have
that hard training, are always unfit to conduct the
business which the newsboy seems to understand
so well.  If there were not many thousand people
succeeding in life who  never had this training,
then we might think that successful bootblacks
owed their wealth and position to the discipline
which their early trade gave them. Culture and
refinement are excellent helpmeets for a natural
genius, and none appreciate tihe advantages of an
education more than he does. But neither study
nor "accomplishments" ever made a successful man
of a person in whose construction Nature omitted
the gift of genius; while the world is full of men
and women whose natural endowments, without
61 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
educational additions such as society now esteems,
have made them leaders in the greatest and worthiest undertakings of their age.   As  a class in
the community, the bootblacks and newsboys are
naturally the brightest, the shrewdest, and the
wittiest.
II.
SEVERAL laudable attempts have been made in
the larger cities of America and Europe to establish "Homes" for these boys, where they could
get a good bed and palatable meals at the lowest
cost price. Several of these institutions are now
in operation, and, according to the reports of superintendents, are doing a great deal of good.  It is
said that boys who slept in door-ways and on the
wharves before measures were taken to give them
a better place now sleep in nice beds, and learn to
comb their hair, wash their faces, and behave like
little gentlemen.  It is said, too, that the little
laborers are taught to place their money in the
bank, and to provide for themselves with economy
and care. All of which is doubtless true, and reflects great credit upon the generosity of the projectors and supporters of those institutions. But,
for reasons which will hereafter be explained, it
seems to me as if all these "Homes," as well as
every place of the kind secured for the purpose of
charitably assisting the industrious poor, had much
1)
62 
"BOOTBLACKS' HOME." - "HERALD, ONE CENT." 63
better be abandoned, and the money expended in
missionary work among the wealthy. To give the
bootblack a "Home" which he could not providcle for himself takes away his independence and
educates him into the habit of leaning upon other
people, while the system which made and kept
him poor is as much in force as ever; and the
closing of a "Home" leaves the bootblacks who
come into the field afterward no better chance for
a livelihood than their predecessors had before the
"Home" was established.  "It may prolong life,
but it does not cure the disease."
III.
A GENTLEMAN was walking down one of the principal thoroughfares of Boston late one night in
winter, during a heavy storm of sleet and snow,
when he heard the newsboy's cry of "Herald!
only one cent." The tone of voice was so plaintive,
and the streets so deserted, that the gentleman was
touched with pity, and stopped at a corner to listen for its repetition.  Again it came, so subdued
and sorrowful, "Herald, only one cent! "  "Ah!"
said the gentleman to himself, as he muffled closer
in his great-coat, "that poor little fellow has lost
money to-day, and is now hoping to save himself
from total loss by reducing the price of the paper.
I'll call to him and buy all that he has left." 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Soon the cry was again heard nearer than before,
and, calling the nimble little tradesman to him, the
gentleman purchased seven papers, and, giving the
boy twenty-five cents, refused any change.  The
astonished boy took the piece of money, but, fearing that it might be a counterfeit, hlie rushed to the
street-lamp to examine it. Doing so, he exhibited
to the eyes of the astonished donor his little blue
feet, the only covering of which was a pair of tattered cloth shoes, his benumbed and gloveless fingers, and his scarfiess neck. Having satisfied himself of the genuineness of the coin, he asked the
gentleman if he was not "strange," * after which
he walked away with a hearty "thank you."  The
gentleman, however, had not proceeded far on his
way before he heard the newsboy calling out for a
companion; and, curious to know what would become of them, the gentleman turned back to listen
to their conversation. Hle approached close to the
boys, unnoticed, just as they met under the lamplight, and heard the following colloquy:  Bob. "Look o' here, Bill, I've jest seen a chap
what's cracked, I'll bet.  For he guv me a quarter
of a dollar for seven papers, and said he didn't
want any change; just as if that was the price of
'em."
Bill. "Say, can't we catch him and get him to
buy mine, too?"
* Newsboys' phrase, meaning insane.
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THE CONSIDERATE NEWSBOY.
Bob. " iMaybe! but then I would n't, Bill,'cause
why, it looks ter me like ridin' a free hoss to death.
But I tell you what I'll do. Now the regular
price of my papers would have been fourteen cents,
anad as I've got eleven cents more'n I'd orter hev,
and you hain't sold your papers, I'11 give you the
extra eleven cents, and we'll get suthin' to eat
somewhar and divide the expenses."
Bill. "No, Bob, I won't take nothin' unless I
can borrer it, for I ain't goin' ter allers be so unfortinit as I've been ter-day.   I'll borrer and pay
again to-morrow or the day arter."
Bob. "Wal, Bill, I'11 lend it to yer,'cause we're
cold and have nothin' ter eat, on the sacred promise thet yer never try ter poay it back ayain."
Here the gentleman interrupted the dialogue,
and giving them a dollar, left the little shivering
brothers to secure their coveted supper and lodgings, if the poor things were so fortunate as to find
any.
F
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CHAPTER VI.
SHOP-GIRLS.
Who  are Shop-Girls. - Their Condition. - The little "Cash Girl." - Female Clerks.- Their Trials.- What Society owes
them. - The Tailor-Shops.-Acts of Kindness. -Ability of
the Shop Hands.
I.
HEPRE is probably no class of persons in New
Eng,land who are so necessary to its prosperity, and at the same time so little noticed or cared
for, as the shop-girls. They are to be found in
every department of trade, in nearly every workshop and manufactory; and every business man or
woman is brought in constant contact with them.
Behind the counter, at the book-keeper's desk, in
the packing-room, at the  sewing-machine  and
needle in the tailors' shops, and in all the positions
that require light hands and quick thought they
are seen successfully toiling day after day and year
after year. Yet, with the exception of a few millinery and fancy-goods stores, they have no interest in the welfare of the companies, and no incen
I
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WOMAN'S WAGES.
tive but that of wages. Although there are forty
thousand women in Massachusetts alone, who can
never marry unless they go out of the State for
husbands, and who must of necessity make the
same preparation for their future sustenance which
a young man makes for his prospective business
life, yet it is not deemed necessary to hold out
to the girls any inducement to make them diligent
and honest. No promotion of any worth, no future
partnership, no prospective wealth, shows its glit  tering castles ahead to inspire their zeal; and the
wages which they receive to-day they may gen  erally expect to get ten years from to-day.  Just
that and nothing more.  They are always serving,
and never being served; caring for immense sums
of money which they can never own, making fine
clothes they can never wear, handling delicacies
of which they can never taste; and, like Tantalus,
thirsty and surrounded by seas of water, they can
never drink.  These are the "shop-girls" as dis  tinguished from those who are employed in the
large factories; and on them as much depends the
mercantile business of Massachusetts as the manu  factures of the same State do upon the factory  girls.
II.
BIEHIND the counter of a fancy-goods store and
toy-shop into which the author has often been
67 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
there was once a little lighlt-haired, sunny-faced
girl, about eight years old, who acted as "cash"
girl and general waiter.  Visitors often noticed
her as she ran back and forth between clerk and
cashier for change, or between clerk and customer
with bundles. She was so cheerful and nimble
that she soon became, as the clerks. said, "a fixture," and the occupants felt as if "a part of the
store had vanished" when little Viola was absent.
She was an orphan, and had been taken from a
Little Wanderers' Home as an act of charity. She
was merely clothed and fed, without being adopted
or receiving any pay. When she first came she
asked a clerk for something which he could not
give, and he told her that the "goods were for customers, not for clerks or servants."  From that
time she never asked for anything, and to all
appearance was wholly satisfied with her lot.
She saw thousands of little girls about her age
whose mammas came with them to purchase nice
new dresses, new fancy shoes, little hats, picturebooks, nice dolls, puzzles,.carriages, and a hundred
toys of which little girls are so fond, and she earried them from the clerk to the wrapping-desk,
and, seeing them carefully folded in clean paper, delivered them to the customers.  She saw the pleased
recipients as they ran joyfully away with their
presents, and wondered, no doubt, why everybody
else had a mamma while she had none.  Subse
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THE DYING CASH-GIRL.
quent events have shown that she was constantly
thinking how nice it would be if she could have
a doll, or a ball, or a carriage, although I am told
that she said nothing about it to any one. She
saw all those desirable toys and dresses hanging
and lying all about her, the possession of which
would have made her little heart so happy, yet she
was not permitted to touch one unless to give it
to some more fortunate child, who was blessed with
a kind mother.
One day Viola was taken sick, whether from
hlard work or her own indiscretion I do not know;
but she was so ill that the matron of the house in
which she boarded, after consultation with her employer, called a physician. The man of medicine
said that she could not live, and advised little Viola
to make up her mind to die.  She knew, however,
nothing about death or a hereafter, and the matron
called a city missionary, who lived but a short distance away, and asked him to talk with Viola.
This the good man did, and tried to impress upon
Viola's mind the necessity of being prepared, and
dwelt especially on the beauties and comforts to
be found in heaven. Shortly after it was said that
she was dying, and the physician, missionary, and
several boarders gathered sorrowfully around the
little girl's bed to await the dissolution. She had
been for an hour in a deep stupor; but, a few
moments before she died, she suddenly opened her
I
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
eyes, and, stretching her thin hands toward the
missionary, said, -
"Are you sure that I shall have a mamma in
heaven?"
"Yes, darling," said he, "she will be there."
"0  then," said  she,  smiling, "I know that I
shall have a doll and be dressed like other girls."
III.
THE most harassing position in which a woman
can be placed is, without doubt, behind the counter in a dry-goods' or milliner's store, especially
if, as is usually the case, her wages are so small
that she cannot dress herself in what she considers
a neat and becoming manner.  It is sufficiently
annoying to be obliged to appear in a horse-car or
omnibus with a number of ladies who are dressed
better than one's self, and to one who has a cultivated taste for the beautiful it is a serious misfortune to be unable to gratify it in the preparation
of her apparel; but when one is obliged to face
hundreds of ladies every day, every one of whom is
more richly and perhaps more tastily dressed, and
be questioned about the best styles or the most
becoming cut, while measuring silks, satins, ribbons, or lace, is something which no sensitive mind
can withstand without pain.  "How  would you
do if this silk dress was yours?"  "Would you
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7 
TRIALS OF LADY CLERKS.
take this one-hundred-dollar bonnet or the one at
one hundred and fifty? "  " Do you think that this
color is suitable for one of my complexion?"  "I
can't judge by your dress, for shop-girls never dress
decent."  "Who is the best dressmaker in town?"
"Have you ever had a skirt like this or that?"
"If you had a husband to buy you everything you
wanted, what dress or bonnet would you select?"
These, and myriads of questions like them, are
asked of the lady clerks every day, keeping their
thoughts on dress and the things which they
would like to possess, and creating an intense desire for dress and ornament, all of which they see
and handle, but can never own. They stand on
their feet until their bones ache, and measure silks
until their fingers are numb, puzzle their heads
through ten hours of constant mathematical calculation, and go home at night tired and disheartened, having earned just enough, perhaps, to pay
their board. They live in a world of plenty, and
yet have nothing; see money flowing from the
hands of their sex as free as water, while they have
none; and often receive large sums for goods which
they know are squandered in frivolities that the
buyers are better off without. They see many
purchasing things they do not need, and investing
money in gew-gaws they cannot use, while she
who waits upon them has not enough for the common comforts of the body.
.71 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
I say that it is a painful position for one who
is endowed with an appreciation of the beautiful, a
taste for decoration, and a sense of justice. This,
however, does not apply to all the female clerks
who are found at the counters of our mercantile
houses. Some are not only satisfied and happy in
their position, but show unmistakable  signs of
their fitness for the place. They have reached
their level; and, with the exception of two very
simple acts of justice, society owes them nothing.
But to the more intellectually endowed, to whom
the unseen agents of Nature keep saying, "You
have a great work to do, why stand ye here idle?"
the counter is a prison to the gates of which come
few of the minds they esteem, and within which
there is no light, no joy, no satisfaction. Many
have stopped at the desk, in their course of life,
who should be found in much more useful circles,
doing the work which Nature demands of them.
For such I enter my plea.  Society cannot afford
to lose their services; let it open the gates to
such as would be free.
IV.
NEEDLEWOMEN and machine-girls doubtless form
the largest class of working-women now employed
in America; and, although this occupation does
not require much natural genius or great skill, yet
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SEWING-GIRLS.
there are many minds now confined to it which
are much better fitted for higher and more influential avocations. It is, however, when conducted
upon the system usually adopted in our large
cities, the most wearisome toil for both mind and
body in whlich women, as a class, can at present
engage.
It being an honorable employment and more independent than that of a servant in the household,
it is sought by the most intelligent class of women,
and is kept by many through all the toilsome
years of life because they cannot see in all that
time a single opportunity for bettering their condition. In no place can there be seen such mental variety as in the tailor-shops where girls are
employed in the manufacture of clothing. Of
those obscure persons who, perhaps in rags, perhaps
in sillk, come for their bundles of work in the
morning and happen in with them at night, I can
say but little. Some are, without doubt, poor
women whose families would go unfed if they did
not get this employment, while others are women
in easy circumstances and perhaps in wealth, who
will earn enough with their machine in a few hours
to pay for the entire day's work of Martha in the
kitchen. The latter class do their work at home,
where they can enjoy the society of their families,
and be cognizant of everything that is transpiring
in the busy world without; and although their
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
earnings could not supply one half their wants,
yet with other means of support this employment
makes them very comfortable. They are competitors with the shop-girls, whose only income is
from the work of their own hands. While the
daughter of the well-to-do farmer or the wife of
the tradesman are taking work from the counter
of the tailoring establishments and doing it for a
very small compensation in order to occupy their
leisure time and earn a little "pin money," they
are decreasing the wages of those who must depend
entirely upon this work for food and raiment, but
who can exist on so small pay only by privation
and suffering.  It may be surprising to many of
my readers to learn that the price now given for
the making of sale clothing is only one dollar and
twenty-five cents a suit, i. e. fifty cents for making
the coat, fifty cents for making the pants, and only
twenty-five cents for the vest. Linen coats are
made for seventeen cents apiece, and shirts for
fifty cents a dozen. Even ladies' morning-dresses,
which are now included in sale work, are cut and
made for thirty cents each. These are the ruling
prices, while in some swindling cases, suits of
woollen clothles are made for eighty-seven cents,
and shirts for thirty-five cents per dozen.
It cannot be expected of employers that they
will voluntarily pay one person more money for
doing a certain piece of work than they give to
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THE TAILORESSES.
another, nor can they be induced to pay a shop   girl "living wages" for making a suit of clothes
which they can get manufactured elsewhere for
one sixth of the sum. But whether they get more
or less the shop-girls must work, and are, notwith   standing the boasted independence of the trade,
the slaves of the manufacturer. He may or may
not be a hard master, according to his natural
fitness for his position; but in either case there
is but little independence,  as they  must work
at this trade and can have no control of their
wages.
In those large establishments in New England
where such immense  quantities of clothing are
manufactured for the "ready-made" market, there
are sometimes several hundred girls employed in
the same building; but in no department, from the
journeyman tailors to the "bushel-women" and
baste-girls, can it be said that the employment is
in any way a measure of capacity. They are fix  tures.  Before them there is no financial prospect
but that of a reduction of wages when country
competition is increased; and never can they
see a partnership, or an interest in the profits
of their labor, as the result of a few years' faithful
service.
In the city of Boston there are eighteen thousand
tailoresses, the greater number of whom  are em  ployed in the manufacture of men's clothing. As
75 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
a class they are moral, intellectual, and refined in
their literary tastes.  They support lecturers and
ministers, give to charitable enterprises, love the
fine arts, and form a most important and intelligent portion of the community. Many of them
are graduates of the high and normal schools of the
State, and not a few are excellent writers, readers,
and public speakers.
Whenever this subject presents itself, I involuntarily recall the scenes in a large clothing establishment of Boston which for many personal reasons are still fresh in my memory. Some of these
recollections are pleasant and  others are painful, but I cannot say now that I wish to cross out
any of them. It has never been my lot to witness
a more pleasant scene than that of the sewingroom when, at an early hour in the morning, a
hundred fresh and cheerful faces flocked into the
door-way and with laughing playfulness took their
stations at the bench or machine. There were
friendships formed in those hours of toil that will
never be forgotten, and acts of kindness and chlarity performed which will not soon cease to give satisfaction to the giver as well as to the receiver.
There were exhibitions of affection, of integrity, of
ability, and of honor, the memory of which makes
life more valuable and lends a charm to humanity
which I have not found in such potency elsewhere.
It was a little separate community, in which each
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THE CHARITABLE SEWING-GIRL.
member not only provided for herself, but kept a
careful eye upon the interests of the others; and,
if in the race of toil there were any behind when
the clay closed, the most prosperous ones united
in the assistance of the less fortunate. A happy
family, in which could be found every shade of
human temperament, and every grade of ability
and character; but in which there never came
discord unless for very weighty reasons. In that
family were several remarkable characters, the
mention of which will contribute toward the object for which this book is written.
V.
ANNIE AIASDON  loved flowers.  Any observer
would have known this by the cast of her features.
She loved them because Nature had made her like
them. They were her fit companions; and she
could see beauties in the delicately shaded leaf, the
glossy petals, the variegated corollas, and the modest
buds which others could not see. They bloomed
just the same where the world did not see them;
and so did Annie. They freshened the desert air
with the same divine sweetness that they shed in
the windows of the palace; and Annie was likewise as genial and obliging to the lowest and poorest as to the highest and richest. They were
delicate in their construction, and mentally so was
77
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3 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
she. They drew all their beauty and life directly
from nature and its God; so did she.   She was
born a flower; and her sweet disposition, delicate
feelings, fine discernment and mental liveliness
were a part of her constitutional nature. She was
good, kind, sympathetic, and active because the
combined machinery of her body and soul would
not work in any other direction. Like the flowers,
she ever looked upward, and from her humble
position saw more of heaven than did thousands
who could look down upon her. Ninimble were her
fingers, and the work which came swiftly from her
hands was as smooth and perfect as the greatest
skill could make it; but none of the less talented
or less skilful ever envied Annie. When her
work was done, and often it was early in the
day, they would not permit Annie to assist them,
as she many times wished to do, for they knew
that she had a nobler work to perform among the
suffering and destitute without.   They  seldom
questioned her, and yet they knew, when she took
her hat and shawl before the others had completed
their tasks, that some poor family, some little homeless or parentless ones, were waiting for her coming. She loved children as well as flowers, and
although she was near-sighted, yet it was seldom
indeed that either escaped her notice. Her regular
employment was no more than sufficient  to pay
her board and clothe her in a tasty manner; but by
-
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GOING ABOUT DOING GOOD.
overwork and by little jobs which she secured for
evening work, she earned considerable sums, every
farthing of which was employed in clothing the
ragged little urchins whom she found upon the
street, and in furnishing juvenile reading for the
poverty-stricken little ones  who  came  to  her
mission sabbath-school.  There was a magnetic
influence about her person that convinced  the
sinful of guilt, awed the criminal, and cheered
the innocent.   She never flattered, never  con  demned, but often praised, and in her frequented
paths the vile slunk away into the corners, the
poor said "God bless her," and the children cried
to go with her. She seemed satisfied with her lot;
feared no evil, and none seemed to come.  She was
always happy, and her presence made everything
cheerful about her.  In short, she was a model of
female purity, innocence, and generosity.
For many years she has labored, devoting her
spare hours and her Sundays to works of charity;
and to-day she can be seen with her bouquet of
flowers and flock of children, making her visits to
the sabbath school, the attics, and the cellars, to
comfort the suffering, to educate the ignorant, and
to recall the fallen to the ways of virtue and peace.
Men will say that she has done nobly, and speak
of her with the same words of praise which they
bestow upon every one "who does the best his
circumstance allows."
79 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
It may be that she does not appreciate her own
power, and is contented to do her work in the
small way and with the small means which her
circumstances permit. But with those who have
watched her movements there is a conviction that
she is not doing one half the work which she
might perform  were she freed from the hours
of toil which she is now obliged to devote to
work, or were she paid sufficient wages to support herself as her intelligence demands.   It is
not her fault that the ten talents which God has
given her are not used in the most profitable
mannler; for the use she has made of one shows
that the spirit is willing. Whose fault is it?
VI.
THE measure of a generous act is the sacrifice
which is necessary to do it.  And often the gift
of a million of dollars toward some charitable
enterprise may not be really as generous an act as
the giving of three cents by another and poorer
person to the passing beggar.  Provided  that a
man never gave for the ngme of being generous,
the gift of a million would, to some men, be a
smaller hardship than that of fifty dollars to
others. Hence, when I say that the shop-girls are
generous, I do not mean to convey the idea that
they give very large amounts, but that, in con
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PRESENTS FROM SHOP-GIRLS.
sideration of the number of stitches that must be
taken for every cent that is earned, and their
general poverty, the shop-girls are the most generous class of any in the community.  They are alw ays giving, and the thought of doing good or of
making others happy seems to buoy them up and
make their heavy tasks seem lighter.  I remember
an awkward boy by the name of Nat, who was
employed in the shop already mentioned to sweep,
carry bundles, and be a general waiter. He was
so accommodating and good-natured that the girls
respected him, and so poor and ragged that they
pitied him. Their interest was much increased
by learning that on his poor wages of three dollars and a half per week he was trying to support an invalid mother. A few days before the
4th of July Nat had  been  heard  to remark
that he must stay at home, as he had no clothes
fit to wear on that anniversary. Then the girls
with great unanimity contributed from their
wages sufficient to purchase  a complete outfit,
which they intended to present to Nat on the
evening before the celebration. In obtaining this
contribution, none of the managers would take any
money from such girls as were not in comfortable
circumstances, or whose wages were insufficient to
provide needed comforts for themselves. When
the suit was made,- the hat, cap, shoes, shirt,
coat, vest, and pants, -the girls were too con
81
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
siderate of Nat's bashfulness to present the gift
in the presence of all the employees, and too
kindly disposed toward the girls who could not
contribute anything to let Nat know who did give,
and so, after handing the suit to the foreman, they
nearly all left the shop for their meals, leaving the
foreman to present the clothing privately. This
the                            foreman did, after making the  remark that,   as
the girls were pleased with him, they had taken
t      h       i      s        method of showing their friendship. Nat was
t     ake                n by surprise.  He looked at the foreman,
then at the clothes, and then around to see if anyb      o       d       y was looking at him, and finally, when h e  tried
to say something, he utterly broke down, and cried
l      i       k      e a child. He found five dollars in on e  of the
pockets, and, taking that home to his mother, he
donned the suit, and the next day appeared at the
halls and entertainments with the other boys.
Tha                    t    first new  suit caused him to look upon himself, for the first time, as the equal of other boys,
and from that time there was a marked change in
Nat's behavior. Hie lost none of his good nature
or kindness of heart, but he acquired a sense of
self-consequence, without which no boy will ever
succeed in life; and the day is not distant when
Nat will look back upon that proud day in his
first new suit of clothes, -and regard it as the
starting-point in a prosperous life.
a-E
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THE WORKI=G-WOMEN AND THE SOLDIERS.  83
VII.
THOSE girls would never permit a kind act to go
unrewarded if they could by any means prevent
it, and beggars and objects of general charity
always found willing and generous contributors
among, them.  They made presents to the fore-    man, that is, until they found that those who gave
most were always discharged first, owing to his
dislike of those to whom he felt under any ob  ligation, - they surprised one another with gifts,
and gave liberally toward fairs, lectures, and en  tertainments  instituted for charitable purposes;
but in no direction did their sympathies tend so
strongly as toward the unfortunate and maimed
veterans of battle.  Without exception they were
patriotic; and during the great civil war which
devastated our land from the year 1861 to 1865,
they were most earnest supporters of the govern  ment. Far into the night of many a weary day
these tailoresses worked in the preparation of
those little comforts which the Sanitary and Chris   tian Commissions distributed, and which saved
many a soldier's life. WVhen the Soldiers' Homes
were established in Boston, they received the con   stant attention of these working-women, whose
efforts were unceasing in behalf of the inmates.
One day thie girls made up their minds to give a
dinner to the wounded soldiers at the "Home," and 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
selected the 17th of June as an appropriate time,
because on that day everybody else would be enjoyingc themselves, while those poor cripples could
not move from the house. For this purpose a
large sumin was raised, many giving away the
wages of a whole week's work. It was all contributed from hard-earned wages, every cent of
which had a value in the sight of those who earned
it. Many of the wealthy men of that great city
might have given ten times the amount contributed
by all those girls without missing it in their business, or curtailing any personal comforts; but these
givers were obliged to make a sacrifice, and to do
without some needed garment, some book, some
teaching, and perhaps some food, in order to give
a substantial proof of their patriotism.
It was a pleasant occasion indeed, when that
"surprise party" of ladies took possession of the
Home.   They arranged the tables, loaded them
with food, set out the dishes of strawberries and
of ice-cream, and in a short time after their arrival
invited the mnaimed patriots to a feast that would
have done honor to a banquet-hall in Fifth Avenue.
With cheerful faces and willing hands the girls
served at that table, and carried dishes to such as
could not leave their cots, leaving nothing undone
to cheer the desponding hearts of the ambitionless
soldiers.   Fine music enlivened the feast; and
with speeches, kind farewells, and good wishes the
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GENIUS IN THE TAILOR'S SHOP.
girls went, as they came, quickly, modestly, gracefully.
The next day there appeared in the Boston
Daily Transcript a card from the soldiers, in which
were these words: "It is indeed pleasant to be
remembered, and a New England soldier can appreciate such kindness, though it comes not from the
lap of luxury.  It shows that it can come from
our working-women, and that their hearts and
hands are with us. It makes us happy to know
that the toiling and industrious women of Boston
are with us, and appreciate the sacrifices which
soldiers have made for our beloved country."
As it is my present purpose only to show that
the working-women are generous, sympathetic, and
patriotic, I shall not dwell upon the many other
incidents which have occurred that might illustrate
further the noble traits of their character in those
respects.
VIII.
As is the case in other occupations, there are
sometimes found in the tailors' shops persons of
such marked natural ability that no obstacle can
prevent their becoming influential and wealthy.
Thousands have more than the average ability
who succeed no better than those to whom Nature
has given less, because, in the present economy
of the world, the way to success is so barred by
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
prejudice and custom that it requires a giant to
break through; and they who have almost enough
strength to break the bars fare no better than they
who are impotent and weak. There was one person in the tailoring establishment already mentioned, who, when a baste-girl, a needlewoman, or
machine-operator, showed such talent for business
and for overseeing that almost by common consent she took upon herself the care and annoyance of assisting and advising all the girls in her
room. Soon she was made a forewoman, and paid
well for doing that for which she was so well
adapted. She was a generous woman, too unlettered to appear at advantage in society, or to be
a good companion in high social circles; yet she
was shrewd enough to see that the proprietors
were making a very large percentage upon all the
work which was done under her eye, and she determined to start in business for herself.  This
she did; at first in a small way, gradually increasing the number of her machines and employees,
until she found herself at the head of one of the
largest manufacturing establishments in Boston.
She took care to employ none but able hands, and
those she paid promptly and well. No sewinggirl ever complained to her of the wages, and
none that were faithful were discharged, although
hundreds applied every week for the places, and
offered to work for less sums.  The girls loved her
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A SUCCESSFUL TAILORESS.
as a mother, and although she was sometimes
harsh in her demeanor, yet they never quarrelled
with her. It was like a family. The proprietress
had so much confidence in the honesty and honor
of her employees that she permitted their ac counts of work to supersede her own in case of a
difference in which the employee claimed more
than her account stated.  Men may  think  that
such concession indicated a lack of business abil ity, but the result showed its wisdom; for the
woman became quite wealthy, and had the safest
and most profitable business of the kind in the
city.
So great was her prosperity that it began to attract attention, and in one year ten different men
entered into the business in competition with her.
They hired their girls at the lowest rates, often
cheated them out of their lawful wages, and
worked them  over hours in order to do work
cheaper than their lady predecessor and competitor.
The result was that the manufacture of clothing
became unprofitable to everybody but to dealers
and to the contractors for custom work. Then the
lady closed her shop, and entered into a partnership
with a large firm, who dealt in furnishing goods
and clothing; and she is to-day a principal part ner in a leading mercantile house of Boston, - an
honored, industrious, generous, and popular woman.
87 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
IX.
IT has been so often said that the " women are
the most unkind to their own sex," and that no
one is such an enemy to her own elevation as
woman herself, that I cannot avoid a reference to
the fact that the tailoresses of Boston are exceedingly charitable toward those of their own sex
who, through ill usage, misfortune, or deceit, are
led astray. It does often happen, for reasons mentioned in a previous chapter, that working-girls
fall. But there are no curses for them in the
circles they leave. No! when such a sad occurrence happens there is weeping in the shops as if
their old associate were dead, and they mention
her in whispers and tears, as if it was a calamity
too awful to find a full-toned expression.   Many
efforts do they put forth to save and reform their
wayward sisters, and  many  times  those efforts
are successful.  The workshop is not an immoral
place.   Its social influences, as far as the  em
ployees are concerned, tend to a life of virtue and
morality, and it is due to the fact that so many
make the shop a last resort for help, in time of
suffering, and, failing to find adequate relief in the
wages which they get, strive no more against
temptation, that the fallen are so often found
within its walls. It is not the result of other
association than the demon of poverty.
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CHAPTER VII.
JOURNEYMEN TAILORS.
The Troubles of a Tailor.- How Custom Coats are made. - Too
much Work, or too much Leisure. - Their Pay. - Intellectual
Ability. - Oppressive Foremen. - Piece-Makers. - How they
grind the Face of the Poor.
I.
TE-HERE is no class of workingmen so subject
)    to annoyance as that of the journeymen tai ors. They are either overrun with work, or have
none at all.  To-day they earn ten dollars and to morrow will earn nothing.  During this week, per        -
haps, they must work all day and nearly all night
to fulfil the contracts made by their employer, and
next week they will be seen loafing about the
shop or street corners without employment. At
some seasons of the year they have plenty of work,
and can purchase every needed comfort; at another,
they earn nothing for many weeks.  Their tasks
are usually those which require the closest appli cation of mind and body, and which will soon ex haust the strongest physical or mental constitution.
i 
NATURE' S ARISTOCRACY.
The strain' upon their eyesight often makes them
blind before they are forty years of age; the constant use of their right hand induces paralysis of
the right side; their cramped position on the bench
makes them rheumatic and gouty; while their
irregular hours and nervous exhaustion create an
unquenchable desire for stimulating drink. Receiving great pay for an uncertain period and then
for many weeks little or no income, they find
themselves subject to a cross-fire of temptation,
coming from too great prosperity on one side and
from compulsory idleness upon the other, either
of which is likely to destroy the most cautious.
If they are not as a class more intemperate, more
immoral, more subject to poverty than other men,
it is not because they have not had hardships and
temptations sufficient to make them so.
During  the  "strikes"  which  have  occurred
among the journeymen tailors within a few years
in Philadelphia, New York, St. Louis, and Boston,
there has been a great outcry from the general public, and the tailors have been accused of many mean
acts; and have been partially defeated in some of
their attempts to get better wages by the united
public, who feared a rise in the price of clothing.
This would never have been the case had the sufferings of the workmen been known to those who
opposed the "strike."
It often happens that a wealthy customer enters
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THE JOURNEYMAN'S TASK.
a clothing house, and gives an order for a coat, to
be completed before a certain day on which he
intends to wear it.  It is possible that there is but
one day and one night intervening, and although
the proprietors are aware how arduous the task
lust be, the contract is made to deliver at the time
requested, rather than lose the trade of the rich
customer. The measure is taken, the cloth cut
with all despatch, and the bundle hurried up to the
coat room, where sit the journeymen tailors, perhaps crowded with other jobs for which there is
the same haste, or perhaps waiting for a coat to
some.  "Here," says the person bringing the bun le, "is a fine broadcloth coat to be made and
.ressed before day after to-morrow morning withu)nt fail.  iMr., the rich banker, wants it to
wear on an excursion, and it must be one of your
best jobs."
The "jouLr." examines it, and finds that it is one
of the very best pieces of broadcloth in the market,
'and that the cut is in a style that will require the
greatest care and skill to give it a tasty appearance. He knows that at least three days' time
ought to be devoted to it, and conceives of no way
in which it can be completed unless he works
through the entire night. Then begins a day and
a night of toil, such as no one but he that has undertaken it can appreciate.  Swift fly his fingers,
flashing to the end of the thread and back again
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
thousands and thousands of times; and at the end
of each needleful of thread he seizes another needle
ready threaded by an assistant, and proceeds as before. Hours wear on, piece after piece is fitted,
stretched, ironed, sewed, until, far into the night, it
begins to assume the appearance of a coat.  Then
he leaps to and fro between the bench and the
press-board, plying the needle or tugging at the
heavy iron goose, while his eyes run water, his 
back and arm ache, his head is dizzy, and his 
stomach empty.  The morning comes, and he has
had no rest, and the coat is not done. He wets hi'
head hurriedly in cold water, and as he must havy
stimulus and has no time to take food, he swallowi
a glass of brandy. Then comes the pressing}
stretching, shrinking, which is necessary to make!
the coat "a perfect fit."  The collar must have just'~ 
such a neat roll, the cloth must wear a finished \
gloss, the sleeves must be round, and the lining
smooth; and the workman  stands pressing over
the hot iron until the perspiration pours from his
face, his head whirls, and sickening sensations run'\
through his whole frame. Perhaps the hour comes
when the coat is to be delivered, and the customer with his gold-headed cane walks into the store
to try on his coat. Then the proprietor scolds the
foreman, and the foreman curses the journeyman, 
and threatens to discharge him  at once.  Soon
the coat is all complete.   But if another custo- 
92 
HARD IOT OF A TAILOR.
mer has meantime arrived under the same circum stances as the former, another bundle is given him,
with the request that he "pay more attention to
his work"; and another body-and-mind-strainingT
job is begun. So on perhaps for weeks, until he
is wholly exhausted, and loses his place because
he cannot perform human impossibilities.  Or it
may be that the trade is so dull, or the busy season
is so near over, when his strength fails that he will
have a chance to rest without losing his situation,
and perchance "when the rush is over," he will
be out of work for two or three months. IHIe has,
however, acquired a thirst for brandy, and this,
'together with the expectation of more work, soon
-nakes him reckless, improvident, and perhaps dis.'solute.  He spends his earnings thoughtlessly, and
perhaps before another "busy season" he and his
family are suffering for food. Even should he
save his money and apply it economically, he
would find a hard lot in life. For notwithstandimg his great pay while he works, his aggregate
yearly wages do not equal the wages of many la boring men who now appear to begrudge him his
pay. When the Trades Union of the United
States established a scale of prices for journeymen
tailors, it was the intention of that body simply to
equalize or average the wages so that this class of
workmen should receive as much in proportion as
do other classes; and when a "strike" was made
93 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
to compel the dealers to accede to their wishes,
this was all they asked. The justice of their demands was recognized at once by every person who
examined into the matter, and living wages was
given them.  I say living wag(es; not meaning
that they receive a  fair compensation for the.
strength, health, and life which they give to the
employer.
This is the general rule, as I personally know;
but of course there are exceptions. Some few
have constant work, are not driven, and make excellent wages; but so very few are they that n~
mention need be made of them here.
Intellectually the journeymen tailors are witty
and thoughtful. They are ever discussing amoni
themselves questions of local and national poli-\.
tics, points of law, philosophy, physics, and re —
ligion; and display in these controversies talents
worthy of much better educated  members  of
society. Many have a generous, frank, and cheerful disposition, and seem wonderfully like each
ether in natural character.   Often  have  these)
men left the bench for a partnership, and sometimes for offices under the government; and in i
both situations they have shown great ability.
WVhere a journeyman tailor has succeeded in proDezoting hi,mself, the public may expect executive
ability and industry; for the greater portion of
theml live and die in the same position, having
94 
NATURALLY WICKED.
perhaps no natural tastes for a higher life, or having
been defeated, when attempting to climb, in that
conflict between the unflinching rules of society
and their sensitive consciences.
II.
IT sometimes happens that journeymen tailors,
or men who, as cutters or assistants, have acquired
a knowledge of the trade, are promoted by cap italists because they exhibit an unnatural taste
for tyranny and abuse.  This is one of the in stances in which artful man defeats the aims of
nature. And while the great body of tailors, and
especially the high-minded, impartial,  and  un selfish, are killing themselves  at the bench in
some musty back-shop, the exceptions, such as the
selfish, dishonest, and mean, are advanced into the
position of overseers and foremen, in order that
they may "look out for their employers' interest."
The capitalist invests his money in the clothing
business, and intends to make  all the profits he
can.  Perhaps he purposes to do a strictly honest
and honorable business. In any case he wishes
to be sure that his interests will receive the first
attention, and he hires such a foremian or piecemaker as will not be moved by appeals or shopmade friendships. Such I have seen; and the
use which they made of their power has so con
95 
N,ATURE' S ARISTOCRACY.
neeted the words "characters," "foreman," and
"piece-maker" with injustice and cruelty, that I
shudder when I speak them.
The foremen generally receive large salaries, and
feel that they must in some way save to their
employers sufficient to make themselves profitable; while many attempt to raise their own salary v
by cutting down the wages and oppressing those 
under their charge.  Such men usually consider 
tailoresses as so many thi,#zs, to use when profitable and to throw away when not needed; there
being such a large surplus of female population in!
those New England States where clothing is manufactured, that it is easy to fill the places of suce
as may be discharged. These girls are not hire
by the week or month, but always by the piece, sc
that the tailoress is supposed to receive such wages \
as she eamns.  But this is very far from the case. G
One generally works as hard as another and as
many hours, but, allowing for a few skilled exceptions, they are paid in proportion to the value of
the work upon which the foreman puts them. Two'l
girls working side by side, and with equal skill,
will seldom receive equal wages.  One may earn l
ten dollars a week, and the other only four dollars.
One has been given "good work," and the other
"poor work," -  the former being work for whichi
passable wages are paid, and the other such as
must be done, but is neither profitable to dealer
96 
OVERBEARING OVERSEERS.
nor maker. Under such circumstances there is a
great power in the foreman's hands; and if he
chooses to make unreasonable rules of behavior,
show favoritism, refuse to "accept" work when he
is ill-natured, or to cut down the pay of such as dis    please him, he can do so without restraint. And
I regret to say that this is very often the case. The
girls cannot lose the place without great risk of
suffering, and, knowing  that many stand ready to
take their positions, they weep and obey.
Although a situation under such a foreman is suffi   ciently irritating, yet there are conditions which are
far worse.  Here there is a hope of appeal to the pro   prietors for the girls, and a fear of censure for the
foreman, provided he commits any very flagrant
{ acts of injustice; but in the piece-maker's shop
} there is no such hope and no such restraint. A
piece-maker is a person who takes clothing after it
has been cut, and contracts to make it for a certain
sum per piece.
When a journeyman tailor is induced, by the
offers of several dealers, to start in business for
himself, he hires a room in some upper story, and,
perhaps running iii debt for every article of furni   ture, hires a number of girls to assist him.  He
then contracts with the dealers to make all of
their vests, coats, or pants, and without a cent of
capital begins to compete with other shops of a
like chliaracter.  It is for the piece-maker's interest
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
to pay very small wages, and he is usually selfish
enough to take advantage of the necessities which
crowd the working-women of his locality. In
many cases he seems to be without heart or conscience. He keeps cutting down the wages week
after week, as the girls are obliged to stay, until
his employees exist from day to day on the very
verge of starvation. He receives for mnaking a
nice coat the sum of ten dollars, but to a girl
who has spent two or three years in acquiring her
skill, and who does all the work, he gives only
three or four dollars. If a girl offends him he refuses to pay her, or annoys her by making her do
over again jobs that are well done; and in one
case which came to my notice, some girls, coming
from a distance, who reached the shop an hour late,
were refused admittance until the next day. If
he finds that by grinding still harder upon his victims, and increasing the amount of work, he can
underbid those dealers who hire their own girls
and do their own work, he undertakes it at once.
If he succeeds, the wages of the girls in the shops
of the dealers are reduced to compete with him;
while if he does not succeed, he discharges his girls
and "fails up to make money," frequently deeply
indebted to his employees. Thus year after year
the poor women are drawn into the piece-shops,
oppressed and starved into vice and shame, and
finally left to occupy a grave in the potter's field;
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THE PIECE-SHOP.
while the hard-hearted tailors succeed one another in the diabolical task of oppressing and
cheating the unprotected, and of "failing in business" in order to pay their gambling, whiskey,
and debauchery bills.
Stand by the door-way of a piece-shop at the
hour of closing, all ye doubting ones, and observe
the thin frames, the swollen eyes, the tattered
dresses, the unsteady steps, and the hands that
press the foreheads, if you would be satisfied of
the truth of my words. I dare not tell one half
the truth, for few indeed who have not taken the
/ pains to examine would believe me.
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CHAPTER VIII.
~
SERVANT-GIRLS.
Why American Girls prefer the Shops and Factories. - Their
Taste and Refinementu.- Incidents in Kitchen Life. - The
Old Cook.- The Nurse.- The Waiter. -  Ancedotes, &c.
HEN the cry of the working-women of
New England finds lodgement in the ears
of the wealthy housewives, the first question
which they put is always this, "Why do they
not go out as house-servants?" and the question is
asked in that decided manner which indicates that
the speaker declines to do anything for them as
long as that field is open. There is a great demand for housekeepers and servant-girls even in
New England, and the greatest annoyance which a
wealthy mistress now has is in the finding of suitable servants and retaining their services when
once engaged. Hence it is very natural that the
subject of these perplexities should excuse her
lack of interest in the poor working-women by
saying that "there is work enough for them in the
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HOUSEKEEPING.
kitchen." "Every class complains," said an English
writer, "but the housekeepers. The factory operatives, the needle and machine women, the female
printers and clerks, the school-teachers and accountants, are all discontented, and this land of
women (Massachusetts) has found that there is no
joy for woman  in any  occupation  but housekeeping." Now that writer was right as far as his
statements with regard to the discontent are concerned, but his conclusion that there is "no joy
for woman in any occupation but housekeeping"
is very far from the truth.   I do not doubt that, as
a class, the married women are the happiest; and
the possession of a nice home, bright children, kind
friends, and plenty of money ought to make them
so.  But there are found many  women in other
stations in life who are as happy as human beings
can well be, and who would not leave the school,
the hospital, the life of business, for the pleasantest mansion in America. Woman is discontented
as a laborer for wages because she does not re
ceive a just compensation for her work, and because she is unreasonably restricted in her choice
of occupations. She is discontented in any position where she comes in contact with wrong which
she cannot remedy, suffering which she cannot relieve, and degraded humanity which she cannot
elevate. She would be equally discontented as a
"housekeeper," did not those who assume that
101 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
title have a right to their own time and all the
opportunities for relieving their own distress and
doing good to others that they desire.
A kitchen-maid, or a chambermaid, is not a
housekeeper" in the sense which the writer above
quoted intended to convey. "Housekeepers," in
the best sense of the word, are the mistresses of
houses or mansions; and without doubt they, as a
class, are happy. Although they cannot protect
themselves, yet they are supposed to have a protector in the form of a husband, father, or male
friend; and in many cases, no doubt, are happier
in their blissful ignorance than they would be if
cumbered with the responsibility of protecting
their own moral, social, and political rights. The
servant-girls are not only without protectors, but
without the commonest means of shielding themselves; and in this fact may be found the reason
why so many fly to the shops for sustenance rather
than to the kitchen.
In the first place, it is looked upon by all
classes in American society as a disgace to be a
servant in a family, or even to have a relative who
is one. I will not dwell now upon the reasons
why this is so, as it is a fact so patent that it needs
no arguments to establish its truth.
American  girls are naturally sensitive.   The
hereditary refinement of their natures, combined
with the educational and social advantages which
\~
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KITCHEN-MAIDS.
are fortunately or unfortunately offered to young
girls, gives them finer feelings and more delicate
organizations than characterized their great-grand  mothers or marks the immigrating women of our
own time. Hence the respectability of an occupa  tion would affect their choice much more than it
would the choice of the coarse and vulgar.  They
will make greater sacrifices to retain their good
name than would the uneducated, unrefined masses
of Europe.  To make a sacrifice for one's name is
an indication of natural nobility which is honored
everywhere, unless, perchance, the laboring Ameri  can girls be an exception.
A second and greater reason for the antipathy
of the American girls to the "kitchens" is  the
loss of their native independence.  In "free Amer  ica" there is no shade of character more cultivated
and applauded than independence. The child is
taught it at its mother's knee,- or at the knee of
its mother's nurse-girl, - and has that idea instilled
into its mind in almost every circumstance in life
thereafter.  Be independent! is heard from the lips
of every philosopher and statesman, and the Amer  ican girls have unavoidably inherited some of that
noble spirit. They cannot at present be wholly
independent, but they adopt the next best course,
and be as independent as they can.  The store,
the tailor's shop, the factory, the printing-office, and
binderies are, as I have already shown, very far in
103 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
deed from being independent situations; yet those
places permit a far greater latitude in mental and
physical action than do the kitchens or chambers
of a modern mansion. In the former the girl is
supposed to be paid for what she performs, and it
depends upon her ability or disposition whether
she earn more or less; in the latter she works
always for a stipulated sum per week, and is well
aware that the employer intends to get all the
labors he can for that sum. Again, in the shop,
no one is placed over her as an overseer or master
who is not fully qualified to tell her how to do her
work, in case she is unacquainted with it; while
in the kitchen it would be a rare thing for her to
find a place where the mistress of the house
who controls everything about it - was able to
tell her how to cook, or wash, or mend.  There is
not as much slavery in being obliged to follow the
directions of one you know to be better qualified to
judge for you than you are for yourself as there is
in being driven about by one who knows not what
would be either for her good or for yours; so that,
as far as respectability and independence of character are concerned, the New England girls are in
better circumstances as shop-girls than they would
be as kitchen or chamber maids, were they physically capable of doing the work.  There is, however,
a very good argument in favor of the positions as
house-servants, viz. they are sure of sufficient food
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CONDITION OF HOUSE-SERVANTS.
to sustain life while they remain in their situation;
which cannot always be said of the shop-girls.
But this, with the uncertainty regarding its dura  tion, would not affect the decision of those descend  ants of that race whose first motto was "Give
me  liberty, or give me death."  If you call this
foolish pride, then you condemn the spirit of the
nation which preferred hardship, dangers, blood  shed, and slaughter to a life of servility.
But this is by no means all; there are hardships
and  even sufferings among  the  house-servants
which are as great a disgrace to the employers as
they are a grief to the victims.  Cooks sometimes
are without proper food, chamber-maids are often
over-worked, ladies' maids are many times cruelly
tortured, and nurse-girls are often most grievously
oppressed.   I say often; not always, for fortu  nately there are some hearts that are soft, some
employers that are considerate, and some positions
that are what they all should be, viz. homes.  A
few incidents occurring within the limited circle
of my acquaintance, all the parties to which are
personally known to me, may not be inappropriate
as illustrating the general treatment of servant  girls to-day in New England, and showing why
the worn and destitute shop-girls do not turn their
attention to housework.
5*
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY,
II.
IN the spring of the year 1869 a sewing-girl of
my acquaintance, who had been abused by the
overseer and could not earn sufficient money to
clothe herself properly, determined to leave the
shop and seek employment as a servant-girl. -She
was intelligent, easy to learn, and very nimble.
She was acquainted with the details of housework,
and her friends predicted that she would succeed
much better in that branch of industry than she
had done in the piece-shop.
Hier first trial was in the family of an officer on
Governor Andrew's staff, who  was reputed to be
one of the most fearless advocates of abolitionism
to be found in Massachusetts. She was engaged
as a nurse for two little children; and she supposed, when she accepted the terms, that her only
labor would be in waiting upon those children.
She was undeceived, however, at once upon entering the mansion, for she was told by the haughty
mistress of the house that she was not only to
take care of the children, see that they were always cleanly attired, studious and polite, but was
expected to go to bed after all the others at night,
build the fires in the morning, sweep the whole
house, assist about the breakfast, and do the washing and ironing for the children. The coal for the
fires in the nursery and sitting-room must be
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THE TRIALS OF A SERVANT-GIRL.
brought up three flights of stairs, and she was expected to do that, although she was very slender.
She attempted to perform the task set for her, and
arose early, worked all day without an hour's rest,
and oftentimes was obliged to leave some unfinished work at midnight, in order to get a little
rest and sleep.  If there was dust in the halls or
on the stairways; if the children cried, or in her
absence fell and hurt themselves; if the fires burned
low, or a certain favorite dress was not ready for
the children when required, the mistress would
call her down  to the dining-room, and, after cautioning her to "stand erect with her hands beside
her when in the presence of the mistress of the
house," would pour upon her such a volume of
abuse and apply such vile epithets, that the poor
girl would go back to her work crying and most
piteously lamenting her sad fate.
She did not remain many days, and ran away
because she dare not meet the mistress and tell of
her intention.
She then attempted to obtain work again in the
shop, but before she succeeded she learned that
the wife of the leading labor-reformer of Boston
was in need of help, and, thinking that in the
family of such a great philanthropist she could
not fail in being well treated, she applied for
the situation.  Mrs.       wanted a waiter-girl to
"show callers into the parlor," assist her about her
107 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
"small work " and do "such little errands about the
house" as the mistress could not well do for herself. This appeared to be a good place, as she was
to be in the house of one who was supposed, above
all others, to appreciate and reward the laborer.
The first day she was given the job of cleaning the
ceilings and scouring the kitchen floor. The second day she was instructed to take up the carpets
in the parlor and dining-room and renovate those
apartments. The third day the chambers were to
be cleaned, and all the furniture carried out and,
after washing, returned. All this the girl did
cheerfully, thinking that after the whole house
was cleansed, her work would be lighter. But on
the fourth day, after the rooms had been thoroughly renovated, and the lame and exhausted girl
thought she saw the end of such hard work, the
mistress called her to the sitting-room, paid her
for one half a week's work, and, saying that she
had no fault of any kind to find with the girl, discharged her because the mistress "did not need
her services any longer." The girl asked permission to leave her trunk until she could find another
place, but this was granted only for one day, as "it
lumbered uLp the house so." The girl put on her
bonnet and shawl, and with a heavy heart and
moistened eyes was about leaving the house when
the mistress called out to her,  "Mary! Mary! Won't you come in and bid me
good by, now that you are going to leave me?"
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SERVANTS AND PHILANTHROPISTS.
When the girl returned and Mrs.   -  saw that
the servant was crying, she inquired the cause.
"I am an orphan," said the girl. "I have no
home and no friends."
"Then go to the Young WVoman's Home," said
the mistress.
"But," replied the girl, "I have not sufficient
money to pay for my board even there, for I have
been very unfortunate."
"Well," said the hard-hearted consort of a great
man, "I don't want you any longer, for all the
work is done that I wanted you for, and you may
as well go along without more crying."
III.
THE persevering servant-girl was not wholly
discouraged upon the second failure, and after
watching the "wants" in the daily papers, and
inquiring of all her acquaintances, she found a situnation as kitchen-maid in the mansion of a very
prominent philanthropist of Boston, who had given,
besides many private donations, one hundred thousand dollars to the Methodist Church. Tlhe generosity and benevolence of the man were famed
everywhere; and this friendless girl, who had not
entirely lost her faith in human nature, hoped to
find kind faces and considerate treatment in the
home of such a man as he. It so happened that,
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
in anticipation of her coming, the washerwoman
who usually visited the house on Mondays was
discharged, and consequently a large amount of fine
clothing awaited the girl's arrival. The mistress,
who had discharged the washerwoman in order to
save seventy-five cents, and who had hired the girl
with the understanding that the washing should
be done by other parties, directed her to wash
the clothes and iron them at the earliest possible
moment.   The astonished girl undertook the hard
task, and had so far completed it as to be' ironing
the fine shirts, when the mistress rushed in and
demanded why she had not "completed that ironing two hours ago." The girl was nearly exhausted with the lifting and pressing which is
necessary to finish starched linen, and to that unkind attack she could only reply in tears. The
mistress was not touched by the girl's distress;
but, having in view the almighty fifty cents, told
her that she (the mistress) could not afford to hire
a girl who was so slow; and, giving the girl the
exact wages which she had earned,- reckoning
the washing and ironing days as two sevenths
of a week,- she discharged her without further
ceremony.
He could give a hundred thousand dollars to a
wealthy church, but his wife could not afford to keep
a girl, and pay her two dollars a week, who was not
able to do the work which usually requires four persons to performn.
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DESPAIR. -" THE OLD SCHOOL."
The servant-girl, having failed for the third time
in the homes of the most philanthropic, abandoned
housework in despair, and accepted a position in
a clothing establishment, where she sewed upon
thick leather cap-visors.   There were four long,
stitches in each visor, and she must take nine hundred of those stitches for twenty-five cents, yet
with all the toil and diminutiveness of the wages,
she was much happier and much more American
as a shop-girl than as a house-servant.
IV.
Now there is a class of old families in the cities
who pride themselves upon belonging to the "old
school."  This is not so much the case in the West
where, everything is new, as in the established communities of the older States. These families claim
to treat their servants better than the new or modern school, and many of them pride themselves
upon retaining a tried servant for a number of con) secutive years.  The "new school" is understood
to be a hard place for servants, as the masters and
mistresses never presume to hold any social intercourse with "menials." In their households a
girl must expect to suffer slight and insult, privation and the severest toil, without a murmur. This,
however, is not supposed to be the case in the "old
school." But, to show that the position of a maid
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
servant is not as inviting even in those families as
has generally been supposed, as well as to show
that Nature slights not the servants in the disposition of her favors, I will mention one case which
came to my notice ten or twelve years ago.
A maid-servant having retired from one of the
"old-schcol" families, a girl fresh from the country was employed to fill her place. Everything
seemed to go smoothly, and the work to be done
satisfactorily, for a considerable time. But there
came a season when, without any apparent cause,
the mistress of the house became dissatisfied with
the servant-girl, and was overheard to say that
" unless things went better" another girl would be
engaged and the first one discharged. On consultin,g with the cook-the perplexed servant learned
that the mistress had several times taken up the
door-mat and, rubbing her fingers on the carpet beneath, had applied them to her handkerchief and
found them dusty. The cook believed that this
was the sole cause of the dissatisfaction. Taking
the precaution afterward to sponge as well as sweep
the carpet and mat, so that no dust should adhere
to the fingers of the fastidious mistress, the old
feeling of mutual confidence between mistress and
servant was restored.
About six months after, another cause of dissatisfaction arose as inexplicable to the maid as
the first. But after uniting with the kitchen " colo
112
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THIE FASTIDIOUS MISTRESS.
nel," for whom she entertained an especial friendship, and who devoted all his energies to the discovery of the secret, she ascertained that the
cause lay in her negligent manner  of sweeping
the parlor.  The windows of that apartment were
double, with sand-bags on the casements, and thick
curtain folds within, so that it was an impossibility
for dust to drift in, yet the rules demanded that it
should be swept every week, and the kitchen-maid
and "colonel" were detailed, and given one half a
day to perform that task.  One very large piece
of furniture required their united strength to move
it, and for several weeks it had not been done.
They never found dust there when the room had
not been used; and under such circumstances they
presumed to omit the removal of so cumbersome
a piece of furniture. On moving it, however, at a
time when the blinds had been thrown open to admit the light, they found a number of little appleseeds behind it, which the mistress had thrown there
for the purpose of detecting the girl if she were remiss in this part of her duty.  The cabinet was
ever after removed, the seeds swept away, and the
smile of the mistress resumed its accustomed sway.
After that day the maid and "colonel" many
times entered the parlor, and while one picked up
the seeds, raisin-stems, &c. which the mistress had
slyly strewn around in the corners, the other took
the books from the shelves and read aloud; and
la
113 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
sometimes I fear that they sat in that closed parlor
discussing more touching topics than the Waverley
novels or Pope's poems; for, a few years after they
were married, and, inspired, as he says, by the ideas
which he read and heard in that tidy parlor in
those stolen hours, the "colonel" began a business
for himself which has made him one of the richest
merchants of Boston, with servants, liveries, and
parlors of his own.
V.
THERE is a science in housekeeping as in every
other occupation that requires system and skill;
and to one who thoroughly understands the theory,
and loves the practice, it is as aggravating to see
the housework awkwardly conducted as it would
be for a sensitive architect to be forced into the
construction of a zigzag, irregular stone fence.
There are servant-girls who are thoroughly acquainted with all the best methods of housekeeping, and who are mentally and physically fitted
for that kind of work. They can sweep a carpet,
make a bed, cook a pudding, arralnge a dinner, or
iron a ruffle with equal skill; and whatever they do
is well done, and, at the same time, with an astonishingly small outlay of strength and time.  One of
these girls was Allie Fenbush. All her work was
like the mechanism of a clock, smooth, prompt, ex
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act. She could do more work in a given time, do
it better, and exhaust herself less than any other
whom I ever saw.  But it so happened that she
was employed in a family where the mistress was
not only ignorant of household duties, but unre fined in all her ways and tastes. She was arro gant and disagreeable, quick-tempered and vain.
She wished to oversee everything that was done in
the house, and was incapable of doing the least
thing herself.  So she began to give her orders,
saying, Do this, do that, do the other, and in terfered with everything that was done, replacing
system by disorder, neatness by slovenliness, and
ease by arduous toil.  To a nature like Allie's,
this lack of system, and perpetual, unnecessary an  noyance, was a greater hardship than the arrogance
of a mistress or the toil unnecessarily introduced.
The confusion troubled her so much that she be  came very nervous. Having no certain place for
any article, she must burden her memory with the
place where it was last dropped; and without any
regulation or system, she was sometimes driven
beyond her strength, and sometimes idle, until it
became so excruciating that Allie abandoned the
place where she received good pay and plenty of
food for a place in the shop, where, notwithstand  ing that her income was less, her liberty to system  atize and economize was unrestricted.
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
VI.
IT may seem inconsistent to some persons that
there should be anything great or noble about a
life in the kitchen. And a few may smile because
I give so much space to housekeeping details, and
will doubtless laugh outright when they hear that
human greatness may be found in the cook-room
or laundry, as well as in the halls of legislation.
There is one woman now in my mind, who, although the greater part of her long life was confined to the kitchen and dining-halls, was just as
great in her sphere and in all that makes true
human greatness as were those men of the age just
passed who conducted the ship of state over such
dangerous shoals.
Her name was Mattie, and she was an only child.
Her father died when she was quite young, and
consequently her mother humored and "spoiled "
her" in those youthful days with too much love.
Mattie was active and intelligent, but was little
inclined to study; and her over-indulgent mother
never urged her to undertake anything that she
disliked. Thus Mattie grew to womanhood, poorly
educated in everything but good manners, and
with no capital but her handsome features. The
latter won a seaman by the name of Parboly for
a husband, -whose character, however, was unknown to her until too late, - who, when her lit
k
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tle girl was a year old, left her to the mercies
of a world concerning which she knew so little.
Then, when she was left destitute, with no living
relative or near friend to whom she might apply,
with no trade and but little education, she was
obliged to find some employment to supply the
necessities of herself and child. There was nothing that offered itself but the position of a kitchenmaid, and, although she knew nothing about the
duties, she entered into the work with earnestness
and a determination to make it a life-work. Forty
years ago, when she entered the kitchen, it was a
far different place from those apartments now answering to the same name.  Then a servant was
a member of the household, entitled to privileges
which are now laughed at, and considered the
equal of those she served.  It is my belief that
any person as wonderfully endowed by nature as
Mattie seems to have been should be accepted even
now as the equal of the richest and best-educated
women  of the day.  She seemed to get her knowledge by instinct; and could cook a pie, arrange a
dinner, or talk politics when she first began with
the same readiness that she did after years of experience. She preferred cooking, however, to any
other work, and her skill in that direction made
the house where she lived noted in all the aristocratic circles for its fine roasts, puddings, pies, and
edible delicacies. Meantime she paid the board
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of her child in a refined family, where she placed
it, in order that it might be brought up and edu cated as a lady. There was only one stipulation,
however, between the mother and the guardians,
and that provided for the discipline of the child
without a blow. For that child she strained every
muscle and nerve; and provided it with all the fine
dresses, books, toys, &c. which the wealthy family
purchased for their children. She was never idle,
and whenever she saw a spare moment in her
duties as a cook, she applied herself to embroidery
and fine stitching, which, before the introduction
of that great invention the sewing-machine, was
all done by h'and. She was as skilful in that as in
everything else, and the aristocratic ladies of that
time often came into the kitchen to persuade her
to accept their assistance for a while as a consideration for some fine work which they wished
her to make for them. When her skill became
noised abroad, ladies came to see her work, and
always carried away a report about that "wonderftil woman." The family of her employer belonged
to the very highest circle of Boston society, and,
as was sometimes the practice then, she was
induced by them to go out and cook dinners for
other families on certain great occasions. Soon she
became an indispensable accompaniment to every
public dinner, and the question was always asked,
"When can we get Mrs. Parboly?" before the
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A LA.DY CATERER.
day was set or the funds raised. So great a favor ite was she that carriages were sent for. her, and
servants appointed to wait upon her while a din ner was ill preparation. Her employer obtained
for her a divorce from her husband, and, seeing
that she could make much more money as an in dependent cook, advised her to make it her sole
work. This she did, and for many years she was
the only popular caterer in Boston.  She prepared
all the state dinners of Daniel Webster, Edward
Everett, and their contemporaries, and had entire
charge of the cooking department at the dinners
given to Lafayette, to General Jackson, to President Fillmore and Lord Elgin, when they visited
Boston.  It is said of her that at one of Daniel
Webster's great dinner-parties, at which she was
always present, i. e. in the kitchen, she sent out
one of her best puddings with the brandy-flame
flickering over it. The shape of the pudding and its
composition caused it to be recognized at once as
the work of her hands, and the whole assembly,
among whom were many of the greatest men of
that day, arose and gave three deafening cheers for
Sirs. Parboly.
During, these'years her daughter grew to womanhood, having obtained a finished education
and, at the same time, ripened into a most beautiful lady. A young man from the wealthy circles
wooed and won her, and with the cheerful consent
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NATURE'S   ARISTOCRACY.
of Mrs. Parboly they were married with great
pomp.
Her son-in-law soon began to feel that it was a
disgrace to be so closely related to a cook, and he
induced her to leave her chosen calling and take up
her     abode with him.  This she did; although she
felt much more comfortable in the kitchen than in
b mansion. HIer son-in-law proved to be too generous, and in a few years ran through all his property. The beginning of the Mexican war found
him penniless and despairing, and entering the service as an army officer he went to Mexico.  TheTMrs. Parboly again entered the kitchens and offi
ciated at dinners, earning sufficient sums to support'
herself, her daughter, and the two grandchildren
that had now been added to the family. At the
close of the war the son returned; but his health
was so shattered that he was a confirmed invalid.
Mrs. Parboly then undertook to support him with
the rest, and for the two years which he lived she
kept him and his family in comfortable circumstances, paid for medicines, doctors, &c., and devoted a considerable time to a personal supervision of their household affairs.
After his death - at which time he asked Mrs.
Parboly to keep his children from the shop, and
wished, if it ever became necessary for them to
work, that they should be placed in the kitchen
where, as hlie claimed, she had learned such gener
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THE INDUSTRIOUS GRANDMOTHER.
osity and kindness- his wife became insane and
was taken to the hospital, while the two girls were
left to the care of their grandmother.  As true and
as kind as she was intelligent, and as cheerful, live  ly, and nimble as ever, the lady, now far advanced
in life, undertook the care of those two girls. She
clothed and boarded them, kept them in school
and in church, anticipated all their wants, and by
: wearing herself out gave them luxury and ease.
Soon the daughter died, and the grandchildren were
nominally- as they had rea,lly been before - de,pendent orphans.  But they never knew care or
.trouble; for this little gray-haired woman, who
!could dance, sing,, joke, discuss questions affect ing society or the nation, always supplied their
wishes and necessities, and they grew into woman/ hood without a full sense of the devotion which
made them what they were.
Mrs. Parboly was a patriot and an abolitionist.
She would make great sacrifices either for the
nation or for the slave.
i   When Daniel Webster sent for her to cook a
dinner for him, shortly after his great 7th of
March speech, she refused to go, and when ques tioned by him shie defiantly assured him that she
should not cook another dinner for him as long as
he lived,- and she never did.
When the great civil war began, with slavery
upon one side and frieedom upon the other, she was
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as regular a subscriber for the newspaper and as
devoted a patriot as any in the land.
During the war, and while she was keeping a
boarding-house, her granddaughters were married.
One entered a comfortable home near Boston, while
the other married an army officer. To the Major
Mrs. Parboly was particularly devoted, as she admired his manhood and honored his fervent patriotism.  But, as if her sorrow were not yet enough,
this idol was torn from her at the time when it was
the dearest, and the wife became insane. He was
killed when leading his regiment into battle, andi
the sorrow-stricken wife, losing her reason, fol-I
lowed her manother to the confines of the lunatic~
asylum, leaving her little boy, a great-grandchild,
to the care of this noble woman, then nearly ninety
years of age.
Hier fame has departed with the generation to
whose tastes she catered; her little body refuses
to obey the behests of her will; the friends whom
she once knew, the successful business-men whose,
prosperity is due to her efforts years ago, the chil dren she once fondled, now perhaps gray-haired
and wrinkled, all have become as strangers to her.
There in her little cottage, unassisted by the gov ernment pension which is paid for the wife and son
of the patriot one, seldom leaving the little country
town to visit the old scenes, she awaits the end,
cheered by the loving caresses, cheerful smiles, and
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undisguised love of a little orphan great-grandchild. Surely she was a princess in the royal
line of nature! and how much better would it be
for the people if such as she were seated in power,
in the place of the pretenders and usurpers who
now throw out their banners as the rulers of the
world! Her acts proved her nobility, and they
show a much better title than money or descent.
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CHAPTERP IX.
THEN AND NOW OF FACTORY LIFE.
Spirit of the Age.- Why Servants are Impudent - The First
ManIufacturers. - Treatment  of Operatives. - The Factory..
Girls.- The Boardling-Houses.- The Golden Age of Factory
Life.- The First Factories in New England.- Growth of
the System. - Incorporation. - The Factories of England. The Ten-Houir Bill. -John Bright. - Americans descending
and the English ascending. -The Operatives now in Ameri can Employ. — History of a Factory which prospered with
the "Old School" and failed with the " New."
I.
HITS is an age of bargains and contracts.
Those good old days of generous hospitality,
of friendly assistance, and of mutual good-will
have passed into history as a thing that existed
once, but can never come again. Everything that
is performed to-day seems to be done under a contract, in which each gesture, step, and thought is
entered in the specifications. Once, when a laborer was employed, there were many things "understood" that were not expressed in the contract.
The laborer was to give a fair return for his wages,
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BARGAINS WITH SERVANTS.
and if it could not be done in one way it was to
be done in another.  The employer, when he contracted to pay a certain sum for a stated amount
of labor, was understood to include friendly treatment and reasonable assistance. Then the servantgirl was not only paid her weekly wages, but made
a member of the family, and  cared for with a
friendly interest. Now she contracts to do a specified amount of certain kinds of work, and cannot
be induced to do anything more without an increase of pay.  When the annoyed mistress gets
angry at the applicant for a situation who asks
how many shirts there are to wash, how many beds
to be cared for, how many persons in the family
and how many servants, how many spare hours
the servants are allowed each week, and, perhaps,
if the mistress permits the waiters to use the library or parlor, she forgets that it is the fault of
mistresses themselves. Now there is nothing whatever Understood between the parties, as the mistress expects to do as she promises and nothing
more. She is not nowadays supposed to treat a
girl as an equal, make the house into a home for
servants, or give them any sympathy, unless she
contrccts to do so.  The  girl gets nothing  but
money, and she intends to render such service as
will earn just that and no more.   Once servants
were under obligations to interest themselves in
the prosperity of the house, and have a friendly
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IN'ATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
eye to the comfort of the inmates, because they received, besides their wages, sympathy, kindness,
respect, and even love; either of which is of as
much value as the wages.
To be able to drive a sharp trade or overreach a
competitor seems to be the summum bonumn of
modern ambition.  No regard is had for the value
of an article, either to the seller or the purchaser;
but the life of trade consists in getting as much
and giving as little as possible. A hundred years
ago there was a nman in New Haven who hired a
neighbor to come and sit on the fence while the
employer picked up the stones in the garden -patch.
Hiis reason was that, although he could do th
w,ord "sorter well enough" himself, yet "the lot
soltclCess did n't go so well alone." *  The idea of
hiring a person "to keep company," or payin, for
sociability or kindness, is not so ridiculous after all;
yet to the money-worshippers of this day such
a proposition would be hooted with  contempt.
There is no value in anything but exchangeable
representatives of gold and silver. Even public
and private parties, balls, receptions, dinners, and
celebrations are patronized only just so far as they
will pcay in dollars and cents; and the first question usually asked of a friend after marriage is
with reference to the financial standing of the
other party. It is not my intention to say that
* Yalensia Magazine.
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affection, sociability, and respect are unknown, or
that everybody has drowned his moral self in avarice; but that the spirit of the age tends most
astonishingly toward this result.
This tendency is exhibited in its strongest light
in connection with the factory system of New
England, which has fallen very far from thie "high
estate" that it once occupied.
II.
WIHEN the first factories of New England began
their existence, they were owned by men who had
made their money in honest industry, and who
started those enterprises because they felt them  selves naturally fitted for such a work.  They were
truly models of natural genius, and subsequent
events proved them to be the greatest men of our
land.  Under their guidance the factory system of
New England was everything that the most phil  anthropic could claim for it. They not only made
themselves millionnaires, but they made all their
employees happy by providing them with ample
wvages, good homes, and with friendly assistance
in every time of need. In those halcyon days all
operative was an equal with the owner and agent,
and was treated as if entitled to all the privileges
which the employer enjoyed, having of course a
regard for the relative occupations. One was a
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NATUPE'S ARISTOCRACY.
shopman, and in the shop was expected to do a
shopman's work. The owners were overseers, and
were respected in that station.   The whole system was like a community in which every person
was equally privileged, but where each cheerfully
undertook the work best fitted for his natural
talent. Owner, agent, overseer, and day-laborers
visited each in the other's family, and discussed
politics, or chatted together, out of work hours,
without presumption or restraint. Then the owner was generous enough to give the working men
and women wages in a measure proportionate to
their profits. When he prospered he made them
presents, and in times of unsuccessful trade he did
not visit his misfortune upon them.  They were
his friends; and on anniversary days and occasions
of unusual interest he would consult with the employees about closing the factory, and, if desired
by a large majority, the wheel was stopped, and all
joined in whatever exercises the day demanded.
III.
THE factory buildings in those days were large
in proportion to the number of operatives, and
were constructed in the most stable manner. They
were clean and tidy, convenient and cheerful.
The yards were sodded, and adorned with evergreens and flower-beds; while bath-houses, and even
f
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GOLDEN AGE OF FACTORY LIFE.
libraries, were  attached to several.  There were
persons employed whose entire business consisted
in sweeping and cleaning the factory, and who un derstood well the arts of neatness and convenience.
The employees were selected from the healthiest
and most buoyant farmers' girls, and from the
ranks of genial, honest men. They were the most
intelligent class of New England society, and have
since filled many of the highest offices and most
influential positions in the nation.  Many of them
were school-girls, and spent their vacations in the
factory; others belonged to wealthy families, and
wished to show their independence of character by
earning their own living; while the men were,
many of them, students paying their way by factory work, or heads of families who wished for
employment near their homes.  The girls usually
went home during the summer, to assist at the
farmning or attend the academy; and whenl they
returned to the factory, blooming with health, they
were welcomed by such as remained or had previouLsly returned, with affectionate demnonstrations of joy. They were never overworked, as
there were a large number of' spare hands," always
ready to take the place of one who was ill or exhausted, and their wages were such that they were
satisfied with the care of one or two machines.
Their work was really play. For in no place did
they enjoy themselves so well as in the factory;
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N3IATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
and often there were found wealthy men's daughters crying for a chance "to go into the shop." It
was industrious recreation; and in it no person
was idle. Tatting, edging, fine stitching, embroidery, crochet, and braiding were produced by the
thousand yards fromn the nimble hands of the loomtenders or "spare hands."  At every interval when
the loom re(quired no attention, or when waiting
for "supplies," those happy, light-hearted girls
plied their needle or wrought their thread-work
with untiring industry and with astonishing natural skill. They were endowed with literary taste;
and some of them wrote articles for magazines and
first-class periodicals, while others read and criticised the latest books, or employed their spare
hours in arranging Shakespeare's plays for the
stage of private theatricals, and rehearsing them
on the packing-boxes.  Books were then seen on
nearly every window-sill, lying open or containing
embroidered "marks," which, like everything valuable that the girls brought into the factory, were
never liable to injury or theft.
The boarding-houses, where operatives were provided with board for $1.25 per week, were provided with all the comforts of a rural home; and
the keepers were always kind old ladies, who were
acquainted with all classes of cooking, knew how
to arrange a house, and loved young people.
Many a girl formed an attachment for the cheer
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THE GOOD OLD DAYS.
ful, kind-hearted boardinghouse mistresses which
was as tender and nearly as strong as that which
they entertained for their own mothers. Those
evenings when sewing, reading, gaines, and jokes
entertained the company were the happiest of
many a girl's life; while  those quiet Sabbaths,
when the church-bell was the only breaker of the
holy silence, were the sweetest and dearest Sun days of life. Ah, happy days! when in youth ful vigor the innocent and guileless daughters of
oll New England were able, without disgrace or
contamination, to earn their own livelihood and rest
in the sweet satisfaction of being dependent upon
no one! No coarse jokes, no drunken suitors, no
vile gossip, no jealousy, no care, and no fear. That
was the "golden age" of factory life, and many
hearts will sigh for "the days gone by" when this
reminder of the past comes to their notice.  They
will recall with pleasure even the days of illness,
when, with the factory physician, the owners'
wrives, and the detailed operatives, who cared for
them, they were happier than they have been since
when in health and strength. They will remnember the kind face of the agent who made them a
present, and paid them for the lost time when they
had recovered. They cannot suppress a tear as
they recount the kind reception, the congratulations, and good wishes of their associates, when
they joyfully took their places at the soul-stirring
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
and fascinating loom, to listen again to the magic
click of the flyers, the tingling "cracks" of the
drop-wire and shuttle, and be lulled into a waking
repose by the monotonous roar of the mighty machinery in the rooms below.
IV.
THE growth of the factory system in the UInited
States, and especially in New England, furnishes
an excellent field for thoughtful research. But a
lengthy discussion of the subject cannot find place
in this book.
The first cotton-factory ever built in this country was constructed in the town of Beverly,
Mass., in the year 1787, and the machinery was
propelled  by horse-power.   Between that date
and the year 1800 several factories - rude, of
course, in their construction, and able only to weave
the thickest and roughest fabrics - were established in Rhode Island and Connecticut. But the
year 1793 is the date which the cotton manufacturers of the United States have adopted as the
"birthday" of the cotton manufacturing system
of the country. That year Samuel Slater, the
"father of cotton manufacture," opened his mill
at Pawtucket, R. I., and for the first time tried
the experiment of manufacturing cotton with
water-power. There was but little encouragement,
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HISTORY OF COTTON-FACTORIES.
however, for American manufacturers during the
twenty years that followed, owing to the cheapness
of labor in England and the other vastly superior
advantages which the English possessed for the
manufacture and improvement of machinery. But
in thle war of 1812, which stopped the importation
of all English goods and sent the prices of such
fabrics into fabulous figures, the necessity of being
able to make our own clothing and of assuming a
greater independence of England was recognized,
and measures were adopted for the increase of our
manufacturing facilities.  In 1813 the first factory
in Lowell was erected on the site which is covered
at present by the great factories of the Middlesex
Manufacturing Company. That building was con structed almost entirely of wood, and drew its
water supplies from a dam of very small propor tions, if compared with the mighty dikes  and
butments of the present day. In 1814 the first
power-loom was started in a small factory at Waltham, Mlass., and was soon after introduced in
Dover, N. H., Lowell, Mass., Pawtucket, R. I., and
in several places in Connecticut.
In 1820 calico print-works were established on
a flourishing basis, and the manufacturing system was declared to be in every way a success.
Each succeeding year saw new buildings, new
dams, new companies, an increased demand for laborers, until, after adding untold millions to the
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wealth of the nation, and giving us real national
independence, we find, to-day, in New England
one hundred and eighty thousand operatives employed in that single branch of American industry.
When it was proposed to charter a great corporation, and give to that body certain privileges and
rights which individuals did not enjoy, there was
great opposition in the Massachusetts Legislature.
It was said that corporations were prejudicial to
the liberties of individuals, and that as moneyed
monopolies they could defeat any attempt to compete with them on the part of private parties.  It
was feared by the statesmen of that early day,
that although the men then applying for a charter
were no doubt honest, honorable, and capable men,
yet they might have successors in whose hands
such corporations would be a dangerous power.
They hesitated for a long time, and there is no
doubt that this jealousy of all encroachments
on private liberty would have defeated the first
attempt at manufacturing incorporation, had it not
been for the argument that in no other way could
we compete with England.  It was thought that
the superior intelligence of our operatives would
balance the quantity of labor in England, and that
our great water-powers would give us sufficient
advantage over the costly steam-power of England to meet the expense of crowding our fabrics
into the markets where only English manufactures
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GROWTH OF MANUFACTURE.
had been known. So confident was one of the
proprietors of a Walthali  factory who had visited
England that by incorporation we could compete
with England, he declared it to be his belief that
the day would soon come when, instead of receiv —
img, thirty-three cents per yard, which in 1816 was
the price of cotton cloth, the manufacturer would
be able to make money by disposing of his cotton
productions at eight cents a yard. Few believed
him then, though the result more than fulfilled
his prophecy.   These arguments overcame the
objections, and, thinking that it would be better to
trust our own citizens with a "dangerous power"
than to be so dependent upon such an enemy as
England, the legislators withdrew their objections,
and a precedent was established which would be
followed in all applications for similar establish ments. By this act of incorporation several men
wvere permitted to form a stock company, construct
buildings, hire laborers, and make their own bylaws. The enforcement of the rules and by-laws
was also placed in the hands of the corporations;
so that within their own precincts they were the
sole legislators and executors. But so generous
were the corporators, and so democratic were the
officers, that the factory system was everywhere
hailed with delight; and the thoughts of oppression, wrong, and cruelty were as far from the minds
of the operatives as they were from the hearts of
135 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
the proprietors. No moneyed enterprise was ever
started under the guidance of better men or with
purer motives; nor was there ever employed such
a number of educated, able, honest, and industrious men and women in any country, at any time,
as were the employees in our cotton "factory system," during the first half-century of its existence.
V.
THE English factory-system with which American manufacturers were obliged to compete was
just the reverse of the American system. Ours began by employing the best class of the community,
and by paying them ample wages; while the English capitalists hired the very lowest classes, and
paid the smallest wages possible. The competition
was wholly between our intelligent few and their
ignorant many, with high wages on one side and
small pay upon the other. In the contest, America had the disadvantage of being without skilled
laborers, of having no ready-made market, and of
hlaving none but small capitalists.  Yet the advantages which inte7lligent and well-paid labor gave
us over the Engtlish cheap brute-force counterbalanced the great disadvantages, and America was
able soon not only to compete in the same fair
field, but to qunderbid England in the sale of her
best staples.* Then, as now, and as ever has
* In the American markets.
136 
EiTGLISH TEN-HOUR BILL.
been, and ever will be, well-paid labor was the
most profitable to the employer. It may be that
the generous and prosperous example set by Amer  ica awakened the statesmen of England to a just
sense of their duty; for it was at the beginning
of our factory enterprises (1818) that Sir Robert
Peel called the attention of the British Parliament
to the tyranny and cruelty practised in the large
manufacturing towns of England.  At that time
the condition of the operatives- the greatest por  tion of whom were children - was most deplora  ble. The old English plan of apprentice-slavery
was abolished, so that " cheap labor" could not be
secured under the cover of that device, and when
the introduction of machinery led the proprietors
to think that the employment of skilled labor was
unnecessary, those short-sighted and stony-hearted
men sought out all the little ignorant children in
the lowest and poorest parts of the great cities, and,
with threats and even lashings, made them tend
upon tlfe machinery of the cotton-factories.  Un der relentless overseers, these poor children, in rags
and dirt, were made  to work fourteen or sixteen
hours a day, and given the most slovenly quarters
and the most unpalatable food. As disease or ex haustionl carried them off, others were found to
take the vacant places, and a worse slavery insti tuted, under the very shadow of Britannia's Parlia ment, than any which that body had been so long
opposing in the Colonies.
137 
N NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Notwithstanding  Sir P obert's earnest appeals,
and his evidence showing the outrageous treatment of thie girls and all classes of employees, that
dull body, which at times seems, like corporations,
to have "no soul," took no action, but, like so many
bullfrogs, croaked one another into a fury, and adjourned without action.  Then began that "thirty
years' fight" which  raged wvitli such animosity
nearly every year in the halls of British legislation,
cuhlninating, at last, in the passage of the TenHiour Bill, in 1848. Why it was necessary for
Lord Ashley, Richard Ostler, Thomas M. Sadler,
Sir Robert Peel, The Bishop of Oxford, Lord Macaulay, Earl Grey, Philip Grant,* Lord Palmerston,
and other great men to prove and reprove, frame
and amend, so many bills, make so mnany appeals
and so much sacrifice, in order to convince that
legislature of a crime that was patent to the eyes of
the least observing, is now a wonder.  Yet such          l
men as Lord Brougham, John A. Roebuck, and
John Bright would not be convinced, and through
a period of thirty years- time enough to make
old men and women of the abused operatives about
whom the controversy first began- it found such
able and influential opposers.
There is no man who, taken in the light of subsequent history, would seem less likely to oppose
oppression and advocate the claims of the suffer
* Charles Cheeryble, of Dickens's "Nicholas Nickleby."
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JOHN BRIGHT.
ing children than John Bright; yet he was one
of their bitterest and most relentless foes. He
frightened the House of Commons with threats
that if they meddled with the cotton-factories, the
manufacturers would remove their mills to Swit zerland. He claimed that the children had better
"work out than rust out," and he even accused the
advocates of reform of hypocrisy, avarice, and a sil ly desire for cheap notoriety. He pandered to the
aristocracy, was cheek-by-jowl with the capitalists
and stockholders, and made for himself a dark
record, which will require a few more years of patriotism and stronger words of repentance than he
has yet spoken to convince the author that he is
the "disinterested philanthropist" which he now
claims to be.  Notwithstanding his great speeches
against the bill, and the opposition of "our most
noble Queen," the right prevailed and the hours of
labor were reduced to ten hours; the pay remainin(, unchanged or being raised, while the stockholders obtained greater dividends than ever before.
During all those years of fierce agitation the
condition of the working-classes gradually improved, and, when the bill finally passed, the manufacturers had so far learned the necessity of paying
some attention to the health of their employees
that there was much less necessity for it than when
the agitation began.  Nevertheless it was needed,
and had a great influence upon the social and
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moral condition of the working-men.  As  those
natural and social noblemen who advocated the
cause expected, it gave the laboring-classes courage, impressed upon their minds some sense of
their own importance, and created a desire for education and social standing never before exhibited
by them. So that for sixty years the operatives
of England have been gradually ascending the scale
of human progress, and are asserting their natural
right to the same consideration which other men
and women enjoy. Their condition to-day is not
by any means an enviable one; and to the observer who sees them as they are, and knows  not to
what degradation they were once reduced, it may
seem absurd to speak of their progress in the past.
Even now, notwithstanding that they have been
going up and American operatives have been going
down in wages and social privileges, the English
working,-classes as a body are far below those of
America.  Charles Dickens saw this on the occasion of his first visit to America, and, speaking of
the factories at Lowell, said: * "I have carefully
abstained from drawing a comparison between these
factories and those of our own land. Many of the
circumstances, whose strong influence has been at
work for years in our manufacturing towns, have
not arisen here; and there is no manufacturing
population in Lowell, so to speak, for these girls
* American Notes.
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DICKENS AND AMERICAN FACTORIES.    141
(often the daughters of small farmers) come from
other States, remain a few years in the mills, and
then go home for good. The contrast would be a
strong one, for it would be between the good and
the evil, the living light and deepest shadow.   I
abstain from it because I deem it just to do so.
But I only the more earnestly adjure all those
whose eyes may rest on these pages to pause and
reflect upon the difference between this town and
those great haunts of desperate misery, to call to
mind if they can, in the midst of party strife and
squabble, the efforts that must be made to purge
them of their suffering and danger, and, last and
foremost, to remember how the precious time is
rushing by."
Although Dickens made a pretty accurate estimate of the high character of the Lowell factorygirls, yet he saw their life necessarily through the
mental lenses which his escort of stockholders gave
him, and his exalted opinion of American factories
was perhaps gained more by a contrast with those
of England than by measuring them by any ideal
standard of his own.   Doubtless that General
who  marched through  "files of beautifully attired factory-girls, miles long," thought them to
be the happiest beings on earth; perhaps he would
have thought differently had they worn hearts on
their sleeves instead of the stockholders' frocks.
But it may be that they were all happy then, as
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
that was a long while ago, and perhaps they were
comfortable when Dickens made his visit. Bnut
they were not as happy nor as comfortable when
Dickens saw them as they were when the General saw them, neither are they as well situated today as they were when Dickens saw them. " ettiny much and giving little," which marks the age,
is raising the cost of living, reducing the wages
and the value of money, and affecting them deeply,
as it does all the other laborers in the land.
VI.
WITHIN ten years the class of operatives in
American  factories has  almost wholly  changed.
The great men, for whom nature did so much, and
who valued mankind for their mental and physical
qualities, have passed away one after another and
left their places to be filled by others.  Unfortunately their mantles have in many  cases fallen
upon the shoulders of men who, although they
were heirs to the property, were not inheritors of
their fathers' natural goodness or ability. Mloney,
not nature, has made them aristocrats. In New
England, where the manufacturing wealth was
confined to so few, a select aristocracy was years
ago established, and as each rich man wished his
child to marry into a wealthy family, they were
obliged to marry cousins. This defiance of nature
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FACTORY ARISTOCRACY.
brought upon the stage a race of half-witted, mental cripples, -if not idiots, at least possessing unevenly balanced minds. And to-day, as much as I
dislike to own or record it, there is but little of
that open-hearted enterprise and far-seeing sagacity which characterized the generation of factoryowners who have just gone to the grave. The
present generation have but little confidence in
themselves, and entertain the idea that everybody
else is as unstable and unprincipled  as they.
Hence they never venture their money where its
safe return depends upon human love, honesty,
or honor. They reverse the law maxim, and think
everybody guilty until proof has been entered in
due form establishing innocence or honesty. Their
fathers could see a fortune in the distance, and
made others rejoice with them in the delightful
prospect; but the stockholders of to-day hold the
cent so near their eyes that a fortune farther away
is not visible. They do not consider the good-will
of the operatives of any consequence, and can see
no more value in the man who cares carefully for
their interests than they do in another who does
just what he is told and nothing more. While
such aeiti-e,l aristocrats as their fathers were would
be raisiing, the pay of the workmen, beautifying the
factories and homes, educating the children, and
at the same time filling their own coffers with untold riches, these usurping successors cut down the
143
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
wages, take no care of the laborers, school none but
their own, and wonder how it is that they cannot
increase their riches as readily as did their fathers.
They think that the "times" have changed; but
individual examples which remain of nature's "old
school" show that it is not the "times," but the
"men," that have so much changed.
VII.
AN apt illustration of the short-sightedness of
descendants, whose only claim to position or notice
lies in the fact that their fathers were what they
are not, occurred a few years ago in connection'
with a cotton-mill with the history of which I X
happened  to be well acquainted.  When I first 
became familiar with the mill and its operatives, it t
was one of the most flourishing establishments of 
the kind in  New England.  The first generation 
of proprietors, who by their genius had raised
themselves from poverty and obscurity to wealth 
and fame, understood well the detail of each de- 
partment, and were practically, although not nominally, the overseers. They were still in active life
when I first entered the town, and the marks of
their enterprise were everywhere apparent. Each
operative was known to some one of the proprietors, and their industry and good character was
established before they were admitted to the mill.
144 
THE GOOD OLD TIMES.
The boardinghouses were often visited by the
owners of the mill, and the health, comfort, and
recreation of the girls cared for in the kindest
manner.  If a keeper of a boardinlg-house was not
obliging, and lady-like in her deportment toward
the employees, she was dismissed at once and
another secured. Everything within the mill was
kept as neat as a parlor; and as the overseers and
owners took pains to praise those who showed
great care in the appearance of their looms or
apartments, all took the utmost pride in keeping
everything, about them clean  and tidy.  Every
person in the shop wished the kind-hearted proprietors the greatest prosperity, and contributed
much toward that end by being as careful as possible of the machinery, wasting no oil, no cotton, no
yarn, or cloth. I do not think that money could
have hired one of the girls to steal a yard of cloth
or a "cut" of yarn, nor would the men be seen by
each other idling or in any way wasting their time.
The agent was a friend to whom all went for advice or favors, and he took nearly as much interest
in their trials and joys as he would in those of his
children.  Although there were rules laid down by
the stockholders, they were seldom spoken of and
never transgressed.   New-comers  learned them,
and were always too happy to do as the agent
wished to think of breaking the by-laws. Wealth
seemed to roll in lire a river, and everybody was
1 4 ID'
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
happy. Cheerful minds made healthy bodies, and
glad hearts made nimble fingers, while the clear
consciences of the owners gave a double value to
the fortune which they made. In fine, it was the
" true factory-systen " of which America then had
so much reason to be proud.
Fifteen years later I visited that factory again
But the changes had been so great that I hesitated
before entering, lest I had made a mistake in the
locality. The building was the only feature which
had not entirely changed; and even that was
marred, stained, and broken, with rags in the windows and patches on the doors. The yard was
strewn with lumber and rubbish, with here and
there small pools of stagnant water, while drumwheels, gearing, old reeds, and refuse cotton almost
choked the main entrance.  The condition of the
factory within was even worse than it was without.
The stairs were unswept and dirty, daubing the
skirts of the visitor with oil, verdigris, and lint at
almost every step. The ceilings of the weavingrooms were covered with dust and cobwebs, the
floor was strewn with pieces of yarn, splinters, and
broken bobbins, while the looms were black with
grease, and bore the finger-prints of many a dirty
hand upon the painted portions..The gearing was
thick with sticky, dirt-mixed oil, and grated upon
the ear like the filing of a saw.
The laborers completed the picture of careless
I
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THESE DEGENERATE DAYS.
ness  and  slovenliness, and were  ragg,ed, dirty,
neglected, and ignorant. Dirty faces, torn dresses,
uncombed hair, dull eyes, and expressionless
mouths were to be seen everywhere. If threads
broke in the warping-machine, the gearing was
stopped because the operative lacked the intelligent skill to tie it while the machinery was in motion; if the shafting squeaked for oil, the attendant
did not seem to care, or, if she did care, could not
stop to oil it, owing to the constant attention which
the management of so many looms required of her.
She had no thought but of wages, and,  if she
would earn sufficient to meet her expenses, she
must work with all her mind, strength, and time.
There was no embroidery, no half-finished socks,
no paper flowers, no books, no spare hands, no
play, and no jokes but such as were coarse and
pointless.  When I left the weaving-room and followed the filthy crowd toward the door-way of the
lower floor, I was surprised to see. each operative
called into a room adjoining the agent's office, from
which they issued with a pass that they must show
to the sentry at the door before they went out. I
was only the more astonished when I learned that
no operative was permitted to leave the building
without having been thoroughly searched, and that
the laborers were all of them "notorious thieves."
On inquiry of the agent I ascertained that the plan
of searching had succeeded in recovering property
147
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N5ATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
amounting to many thousand dollars, which the
girls and the men had attempted to carry away
under their clothing.
They love to steal," said he, "and I have caught
them carrying away old iron, oil, and even waste,
which could be of no possible use to them. They
have such a devilish desire to impoverish the company that they throw yarn, cloth, beams, bobbins,
paint, and cotton out of the window into the river,
and I believe that, did we not keep a most vigilant
watch in every room, they would set the building
on fire." 
"How everything has changed since I was here!'
said I.
"Yes, it has changed.  Factory operatives arei
not what they used to be," said he.                 {
"Could you not get a better class of laborers by 
paying more wages?" inquired I.
"Perhaps," answered he; "but the company cannot afford to pay more wages, for they are losing
money nou!"
So they were losing money, and about a year 
from that time failed, deeply indebted to the employees, and having so small an amount of property
compared with their liabilities that they paid but
twenty cents on a dollar, while other factories
were making the owners rich.  At the creditors'
meeting the following facts came  to light: the
original owners had died, leaving the property to
148 
MODERN OWNERS.
the care of their sons; and these new proprietors,
having none of the liberal spirit which characterized their predecessors, undertook to introduce
"cheap labor." They employed those persons -
many were imported for that purpose - who could
be hired at a low rate; which, of course, introduced
sucLli a vile class that it drove out all who laid
claims to respectability.
Hoping to enrich themselves faster than their
fathers had done, they killed the goose which laid
the go]den eg's, by discharging spare hands, paying
no attention to the cleanliness of the building,
neglecting the boarding-houses, and concentrating
their entire energies on the present dollar, to the exclusion of the fortunes that lay but a short distance
away. No operative ever saw the proprietors in
the factory; and as nobody took any interest in the
working-people's affairs, they had no interest in the
prosperity of other people. A mutual ill-will and
a social warfare were the results, in which, as must
ever be the case, the operatives were the victors;
in a campaign, however, that brought them no
honor, no pleasure, and no gain.
149
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CHAPTER X.
HOW COTTON IS MANUFACTURED. - FACTORY FRIEND                     SHIPS.
Brotherly Affection. - The  Destitute Wife. - The  Widow's
Trial. -  The  Country  Girl and  the  Actress. - Drunken
Pickard and Bob.
I.
N  order that the reader may be able to under    stand the terms which I shall be obliged to
use in the  chapters that follow, a few words
may be necessary in explanation of the processes
through which the Cotton passes while being manufactured into cloth. The cotton when taken from
the bale is passed through a machine, usually
placed in the basement of the factory, which picks
and combs out the sticks, seeds, and hard lumps,
leaving only the light, feathery cotton. This machine is called a "picker."  Then the cotton passes
into another apparatus near by, which draws it
from the pile into a long straight roll, without
twist or strength. This machine is called a "drawer." From the drawer the roll passes into the
A 
CLOTH MANUFACTURE.
"speeder," when it is pressed into a smaller size
and slightly twisted.  The cotton is then called
"roping," and is wound upon great spools, as it
comes from the speeder.   The spools of roping
are taken to the spinning-room, where, by means
of rollers to press and flyers to twist, it is reduced
to thread. The thread which, as it comes from
the spindles, is wound by machinery upon small
spools called "bobbins," is very fine, and is known
in the factories as "the warp." From a large number of these small spools, which are placed near
together, in a large frame, the threads are wound
upon a very large spool called a "warping-beam."
The warping-beams, when full of thread, are taken
to the "dressing-machine," where  the threads, a
great number at a time, pass from the warpingbeam over a roller that turns in a trough of starch,
then under a series of constantly moving brushes
which equalize the starch and brush away lint or
any foreign substance that may be adhering to the
thread. From the brushes it passes over a large
heated copper roller which dries the starch; and
then is wound upon another enormous spool called
a "web-beam."  These great web-beams are then
put upon a "drawing-in frame," where an operator
draws every end - and there may be thousands -
through a "reed," in which there is a little aperture for each thread.  These reeds are parts of the
"loom," and keep the threads separate when the
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151 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
machinery is in motion; and, together with the
web-beams, are placed in the looms whenever they
are required for wveaving.  From  the looms in
which the threads that wind from the web-beams
through the reeds combine with the threads which
braid in from the " shuttle," the "cloth" is taken,
which, after inspection, is packed for market.
Should the manufacturer wish to make calico,
the cloth is put through a chemical process called
"bleaching," and taken to the print-works. Calico
printing" is done by passing the cloth under an
engraved roller which is so ingeniously supplied
with dyes that it prints all the different colors and
figures at the'same time. Until the recent invention of roller-printingt it required the greatest skill
to dye calico; and it was never sold for less than
fifty cents per yard. Then there was a different
stamp for every figure, and the workman was
obliged to dip each stamp in the color and strike
it with a mallet when placed on the cloth. Hence
it was a slow and expensive process.  Now it is
so rapidly done by machinery that the cost is
reduced a hundred-fold, while the only great skill
required is in mixing the colors.
II.
ALL the different processes of cotton manufacture have their divisions and subdivisions, each
152
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MILL FRIENDSHIPS.
of which requires the attention of intelligent
laborers; consequently there is in nearly every
factory a number of persons employed in the same
room who, as they are constantly in one another's
society, become intimately acquainted with each
other's manners and disposition. This leads to the
formation of friendships and associations, many
of which are as sincere and lasting as any of earth.
The circumstances which surround their individual
lives, and the hardships which they endure together, have a great effect upon these friendships.
Like the soldiers in the field, the sailors on the
sea, the travellers far from home and country, they
are deeper and stronger in proportion to the danger and suffering which they see.  So that out of
oppression may spring some sweet fruits, and in
the factories where the operatives have the least
privileges and the lowest wages there may be a
slig,ht compensation in the attachments which are
formed among the operatives for each other.
Again we will say that it is not the object of
this book to sound the praises or advocate the
cause of those who, like Burritt, Franklin, Lincoln,
and Banks, have succeeded in obtaining the position for which nature designed them; nor to repeat
the old stories of their friendships in low life and
generosity in high life. We speak for the defeated
ones, about whom the world has heard but little
and cared less.  The factories of New  England
7*
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
have teemed with philosophers and statesmen
who have toiled year after year in obscurity, not
that an "occasion never called for them," but
because an opportunity was never given them.
Somebody has said that "circumstances do not
make men, but men make circumstances," and it
is one of the truest sayings ever recorded; but,
unfortunately, it often happens that the men who
make the circumstance are not the men to be
affected by it. And the factory operative, however gifted and good, belongs to one of the classes
for which other men make the circumstances.
That they make the most of their opportunities is
proved by the attachments they form  and the
ability they exhibit in the station to which they
are confined.
As a person without enemies may be considered
a nonentity or a fool, so a person with no friends
may be counted as a very bad individual.  But
the true test of nobleness has ever been in the
possession of a few friends and loving them with
all the heart. Such has been the characteristics
of all great heroes; and, applying that standard to
the factory operatives, we find many who show
themselves worthy of the title which I claim for
them.
In 1854 there were two young men at work
together in a factory at Chicopee, Mass., between
whom there was a most marked intimacy. Their
154
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THE TWO FRIENDS.
work brought them often together during the day,
and they occupied the same room at the boardinghouse.   They were seen so often together, and
dressed so nearly alike, that the citizens of the
town believed them to be brothers, - caring for
each other when sick, one taking the work of both
when the other was obliged to be absent. It happened that the youngest, whose name was Mortley,
one day was adjusting a belt while his companion,
Wesley, was standing near. The belt ran upon
the pulley quicker than Mortley anticipated, and
caught his hand under it as it started around the
pulley. Wesley saw the danger, and, knowing that
a momenit's delay would draw Mortley's whole arm
and perhaps his body into the gearing, leaped upon
the pulley, and, thrusting his foot against the belt,
threw it off before the pulley had half completed
the first revolution. But neither escaped without
injury, for the forefinger of MAortley's right hand
was crushed, and Wesley's right ankle thrown out
of joint. Neither ever completely recovered, and
ever after the limp of the one and the crushed finger of the other were mutually considered to be
"bonds of friendship." In 1855 they married sisters, and began keeping house in the same tenement.  But soon after Wesley moved to Meriden,
Conn., and Mortley took up his residence in Holyoke, Mass.  In 1861 Wesley died, leaving a wife
and two children with no property but a little
155
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
house in the suburbs of Meriden. The widow
was  in delicate health, and  could  do nothing
toward the support of herself or children, and applied to the town authorities for assistance. Those
officials refused to consider her as a pauper, or treat
her as if entitled to any assistance so long as she
owned a house; and the woman in her despair advertised her house to be for sale. A few days before the day set for the sale she received an anonymous letter, which said that "a poor debtor of her
husband's" would try to pay off his debt in small
instalments, to be found on the first of every month
at a certain bank.  The writer closed his letter,
after bidding her to be of good cheer, with the remark that he "dare not tell how much" he owed
Mr. WVesley, but it would "last her a long time."
The widow, finding the first instalment already deposited, and unable to obtain from the bank the
name of the depositor, did not sell her house,
but mnanaged to live comfortably upon the twenty
dollars per month which the unknown debtor supplied. For seven years the money was always
ready on the first day of the month, and the widow
had begun to wonder how it was possible for a person to owe her husband so much, when she heard
that MIortley had been killed by a boiler explosion
at PRutland, Vt.  On going to the bank on  the
following pay-day she found no money, and, as
the banker said that the giver was dead, she felt
156
Ur 
SISTERS IN MISFORTUNE.
assured that Mortley had all that time been dividing his hard-earned wages equally between her and
his own family.  She subsequently learned from
her sister that Mortley had adopted that plan
because he feared she would not accept it if she
knew who was the giver.
III.
IN the town of Holyoke, Mass., there are two
factory-girls, whose sisterly regard for each other
has often been the subject of remark, and whose
conduct in life has ever been the most exemplary.
iaving had my attention called to the fact, I made
inquiries about them, to ascertain if there had been
any particular cause for their affectionate behavior,
and their sad history was related to me as follows:
In 1862 they were boarding together, and were
working side by side in the same room, when they
were wooed and won in marriage by two young
men who were equally intimate with each other.
Both of the girls were married at the same time,
their husbands enlisted in the same regiment, and
were both killed in the same battle.*  Meantime
both of the girls bore a son, and during the days
when they were obliged to enter the shop they
hired the same nurse to care for both of the boys.
Four years of hardship and the greatest suffering
* Holyoke Transcript.
I.57
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
cemented their friendship, and increased their love
for each other. But the trials which they had
seen were light compared with the one in store for
them. WVhen the boys were five years of age, they
were counted as the brightest scholars in the beginners' class at school, were clothed in the neatest style, and made to attend the school exercises with the greatest regularity. It happened
that one afternoon, when there was no school, the
mothers were too busy in the mill to care for their
little boys, so they sent them out into the yard to
play, and directed them to keep within sight.
This command the boys fully obeyed; and hour
after hour passed with the children running, jumping, and ball-playing, while the proud mothers
looked on and were happy.  But when the boys
had become tired of every other amusement, they
placed a slab across a log which lay near the canal,
for the purpose of playing " teter."  The mothers
saw the preparations, and would have run down to
the yard to prevent the trial of so dangerous an
experiment, but the looms must not be stopped, and
their presence was everymoment necessary. Soon
they saw the boys mount the slab, one upon each
end, and attempt to balance each other. The slab
was near the end of the log, and at the second
attempt of the boys to " teter" it swung from the
pivot, and both were instantly thrown into the
canal. The mothers rushed down the four flights
.w
158 
THE ACTRESS AND HER FRIEND.
of stairs with their utmost speed, but when they
arrived at the spot both of the little boys were
dead.
IV.
MALINDA had been an actress, and had been the
recipient of praises, encores, and bouquets while playilg, with Booth, Cushman, Costar, and many other
notables in the theatrical world. But she became
too corpulent to appear at advantage in any part but
that of " heavy old woman," and after a while lost
that by contracting very intemperate habits. She
had no relatives, no friends, and was in a destitute
condition, when, after several utter failures, she
abandoned the hope of ever going upon the stage
again. Too proud to beg or apply for public charity, she attempted to find some kind of employment,
and at last found her way into the Pemberton Mill
at Lawrence. She was unacquainted with any
kind of work. Her fingers, that had been trained
for throwing kisses and holding the gauze of a
dance-dress, were too soft for the loom, and her tiny
feet, which had been shaped and trained for the
footlights, were unable to hold up her heavy body
for six long hours, with little or no change of position. But it happened that a little girl by the
name of Ann had charge of the looms next to those
which the actress had been hired to superintend,
and she noticed the awkwardness and the discon
159
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
solate expression which accompanied the actress in
everything she undertook. The little lady, regard less of the bad reputation of the actress, undertook
to teach and assist her in the managoelment of the
looms.* It had been so long since a kind word had
been spoken to her or a kind act done for her that
the actress formed at once a most sincere attachment for the innocent country-girl, who so generously came to her assistance. They would converse
together through the evenings, Ann telling about
the rural attractions of her country home, and the
actress in turn describing the stage, the players,
the music, the scenery, and the whims of the audiences. Thus a year passed away, and the actress,
who entered the mill a coarse, vulgar, and reckless
woman, had become, under the influence of little Ann, an affectionate, quiet, well-behaved lady.
Upon Ann the actress poured out her whole soul.
Ann was all the friend whom she had, and to her
she clung with the most ardent fondness; while the
actress was to Ann a subject of pity for her misfortunes and of respect for her ogreat experience.
On the morning of the 11th of January, 1860,
Ann and the actress entered the mill together. At
the door-way they paused a few moments to watch
the crowd of operatives as they came toward the
mill. The actress was quite dejected because Ann
had declared her intention of taking a vacation,
* Every new hand must have a " teacher."
160
I
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BEFORE THE CATASTROPHE.
and, perhaps, of leaving the mill altogether. The
former was remonstrating with Ann, and as they
turned to ascend the stairway, caught her arm and
said, "Anii, I don't feel like working to-day, and if
you go away I shall never feel like it again."
"I'm of no consequence," said Ann, laughing;
"you will do just as well without me."
I tell you, dear Ann," exclaimed the excited
actress, "if you leave this mill, we part; and parting with you, the only being I have to love or
care for, means (eatt/."
Ann laughed, and said she thought the actress
was getting "tragical."
"So I am," said the disconsolate one,-" so I
am; and I tell you that this river, which has floated
so many, may float another if you leave me."
As they entered the hall leading to the weaving
apartments three girls passed them, laughing, joking, and pulling each other.
"Do you suppose," said the actress, "that those
girls, who think so much of each other's society,
really love as you and I have loved?"
"0 yes," said Ann; "and perhaps better; we cannot tell about others' friendship or love, you know."
The bell began its toll; the steam began to hiss,
and the water to swash in the basement; the belts
began to move, and the flyers to rattle; while
picker, drawer, speeder, spinner, warper, and loom
began at the same instant to pick the cotton, make
K
161 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
the rolls, twist the roping, spin the thread, and
weave the cloth for another day's production.
Noon came, with the clamoring bells, the usual
crowd, the hurried meal, and the hasty return; and
many hearts thanked God that they were on the
last half of another wearisome day. Three o'clock
came, - the afternoon was one half spent, - and
the anxious operatives noted the hour and minute
hands, and said, "Only three hours more."
Four o'clock came; the voices of the girls were
still; they were now too tired for conversation, and
even the overseer gave his orders in a low tone, for
he, too, was getting exhausted.  But the great, restless, and exhaustless machinery rattled over the
head of the actress, roared in the stories below her,
while the whole building trembled and waved beneath its ponderous load of lifelike mechanism.
She was thinking of Ann, and wondering if the
time ever would come when they must part, and
had stopped her loom to mend the thread, when
the great building seemed to be seized with a
sudden tremor. The windows rattled, the floor
creaked, the walls cracked, the great looms rocked
to and fro, and a wild shriek, mingled with dull,
jarring thumps, echoed through and through the
writhing building. One glance, - and only one,
- which showed the girls flying wildly in every
direction, - some out at the windows, hundreds
toward the stairway, and others for the elevator,
162
4 ic 
FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL
while the shafting fell from its bearings, the belts
flew from the pulleys, the great piles of web-beams
came tumbling down, the landscape through the
windows seemed swinging, sliding, and falling with
a dizzy, sickening motion; and with one awful
crash, that echoed through the streets, and re-ech oed from the distant hills, the great five-story Pem berton Mill, with all its freight of life, crumbled and
crashedl into a distorted heap of ruins. O that
terrible, terrible scene! Who can ever efface it
from memory that looked, though but an instant,
upon that sickening mass? Great timbers broken
and splintered, piles of shattered brick and mortar,
crooked pieces of shafting, ponderous wheels, and
under, in, over, and through all were writhing,
maimed, shattered, and bleeding human beings.
The great chimneys, which stood as grim spectators,
looked coldly down upon that pile where heads,
arms, and legs were protruding, and through which
the streams of human gore gurgled and bubbled,
drowning some that had not perished by the fall, and
changing the color of the water far below the ruin.
And the cries! How it appalled the stoutest,
and chilled the most hardened!  The air was reso nant with human misery, and carried a dull sense
of the fearful disaster to the hearts of men for miles
around, long before they knew what had occurred,
or learned by human testimony that anything unusual had happened. The great city, together with
163 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
all who were within hearing distance, seemed palsied with fear, and when the earth had ceased to
tremble, and the reverberations died away, men
whispered one to the other, with pale faces," Something awful has happened."
Then came the crowd of mothers, fathers, sisters,
brothers, relatives, and friends, to join in the chorus of shrieks, groans, cries, and choking sobs that
came unceasingly from the unseemly heap. Men,
women, and children, inspired with supernatural
strength, tugged away at timbers, shafting, and rubbish, searching and calling for loved ones.  Some
few of the victims lay near the surface, held only by
an arm, a foot, or a finger, and from them were the
timbers quickly lifted, and one after another they
came bleeding from the wreck. Night came quickly on, but it saw no cessation in the work; neither
were the awful cries abated. Then, with a great
bonfire that shimmered on the great canal and
cast a lurid gleam over the gory pile, the workmen
worked nobly on. Lifting a great timber to release
a man who was crying for help, four mangled and
dripping bodies were discovered, which were carried
through the shuddering crowds to the hall. As the
hours fled the number of workmen increased. Extra trains brought in the firemen and volunteers
from other cities; the alarm-bells called in the farmers, and the long ruin, which covered an acre
of ground, was teeming with zealous workmen.
164
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THE WRECK.
Headless, armless, crushed, torn, and dissevered
bodies, soaking in blood, were drawn out to get at
the living, whose cries could be heard far, far down
beneath the rubbish. Fainting ones, slashed and
nangled ones, living and dying ones, came swiftly
by on the shoulders of stout men, while the wild
and frenzied assembly of relatives shouldered,
crowded, and fought for a glimpse of each bleeding
mass, to know if it were the body of their beloved.
Among the great throng of workers, whose disregard of danger and contempt for arduous undertakings was marvellous, could be seen the actress,
flying hither and thither, treading upon uncertain
timbers, leaping over grim chasms, and lifting
weicghts that would in calmer times have defied
a person possessing double her strength; crying
in the bitterness of her woe for her companion and
friend.
Though she stayed and worked until daylight,
ay, until noon came, and night again, yet no
answer came to her cries, no word from Ann's
familiar lips. The three girls whose friendship
she had doubted were found dead in each other's
arms, but they were so interlocked with the timbers that they could not be extricated. "Truly,"
thought she, "they were friends in life, and in
death they were not divided."
Fire! Fire! I How I shudder now when I recall
the terrible import of those words, as the cry went
165 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
up and the ascending smoke convinced the horrorstruck spectators that the ruin was in flames. The
heart  stopped its beating at the sound, and soulbreaking despair took the place of awe and sorrow.
A pile of human beings burning alive, and so near
that their voices could be distinctly heard, while
some were within easy reach. Some had been
given food and drink, and led to hope for speedy
deliverance. But the appearance of that flame
dashed all hope. Some of the victims far down in
the wreck, thinking that they must burn, cut their
throats or stabbed themselves, others yelled and
writhed in their despair. One party who seemed
to         have fallen together and to have some little
room faced the fate that awaited them, and with
Christian  resignation began,  amid  groans  and
shrieks, to sing that well-known hymn:
"My Father's house is built on high,
Far, far above the starry sky;
When from this earthly prison firee,
That heavenly mansion mine shall be.
I'm going home, I'm going home,
I'm going home, to die no more."
At last the lifeless form of poor Ann was exhumed from the ruins, and the actress, frantic
with grief, moaned over it, and called on her to
come back with most touching appeals to the unheeding, body.
Meantime the fire spread on in the ruins, lap
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BROKEN-HEARTED.
ping up the dead and alive alike, while the firedepartment poured on water and dug, at the pile
with superhuman endeavors; and after two days
and two nights of toil the thousands of laborers
were obliged to give way before the fire, and such
as still remained in the mountainous ruin were
consumed to ashes. The cries which had been
growing weaker and weaker were at last drowned
by the hissing and roaring of the terrible fire; and
a cragged, blackened wreck of iron and brick was
all that remained of the great cotton-factory
which, by the adoption of a criminally shortsighted policy, was lightly and weakly constructed
by chectl) lcabor.
The actress, whose life had been so much cheered
and elevated in little Ann's society, sank at once
into melancholy, and after a short and aimless
existence followed her little friend to the grave,
giving a striking example of the elevation of a
fallen one by factory associations, and of the
maxim that "none love truly who act not nobly."
The general opinion in the non-manufacturing
communities seems to be that factory associations
are degrading, and that it is dangerous to trust a
woman within the walls of such an establishment.
it may be more so now than it used to be, because
so few can live respectably if dependent entirely
upon the wages they receive. Yet I not only
claim that, with the exception of those traitorous
167 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
establishments which import their help, there is
little or no cause for the present opinion with regard to the class of working-women; but that very
many more are raised from fallen wretches into
true womanhood by the elevating friendships
which they form than fall into wickedness from
the same cause.
V.
ONE of the most remarkable cases that ever
came to my notice where a factory friendship called
out the best traits of human character, occurred
in Pawtucket, R. I. An old man, who had never
been married, and whose friends had all forsaken
him on account of his excessive intemperance, was
employed in the warping-room to lift the large
heavy beams of yarn as they were filled from the
bobbins, and carry them to the elevator.   He had
been there many years, and as he was an excellent shop-hand when sober, the overseers secured
some one to fill his place when he was intoxicated, who gave it up without question when the
drunkard returned. The old man prided himself
in the name of " Drunken Pickard," and was usually addressed by that name whenever his roommates or associates wished to speak with him. In
1858 there came a boy about fifteen years old, who
was engaged as a "bobbin-boy," and who, like
Drunken Pickard, had no living relatives who
168 
TRUE FRIENDSHIP.
would recognize him. He was an orphan; and
found his way into the factory from a country
poorhouse. He was soon known among the oper atives as "little Bob," and by his sprightly and
graceful manners won the respect of all who
knew him. Drunken Pickard became especially
attached to him after hearing that he had no
friends and no home; for, to one in Pickard's
circumstances, those were just the characteristics
to call out sympathy and love.
Drunken Pickard and little Bob became fast
friends; although Pickard was over thirty years
older than Bob. Pickard told Bob all about his
"sprees," and Bob told Pickard about his life
in the poorhouse. Each was the other's companion when occasion required, and several times
Bob was rather roughly used by some of Pickard's
intoxicated companions while trying to help him
home at night.
One day there was a political meeting at Pawtucket, and Pickard happened to be present when
the speeches were made.  He did not seem to be
favorably impressed with the eloquence displayed
on that occasion, and when, according to his usual
custom, he related what he had seen and heard to
Bob, he remarked that he would be ashamed of
Bob if he "could not on occasion make a better
speech than that."  Bob said that he wished he
were a public speaker, and told Pickard about a little
8
169
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRIACY.
piece of poetry which he was taught to declaim
when quite small. Pickard suggested the idea
of Bob's attempting to make a speech, but Bob
pleaded that none but educated people could make
political speeches. The conversation led from one
idea to another, until Pickard proposed that Bob
should attend school, and "edicate" himself for a
public speaker, whlile Pickard should work in the
factory, and "pay the bills."
"I'm gettin' old," said Pickard, "and can't last
very long.  But now I can earn enough to support
us both; so you get your larnin', and by that time
you can earn money like all the big-bugs, and you
can turn around then and- take care o' me."
Bob fell in with the proposition, and, having
purchased an outfit from his own earnings, took
the advice of a resident pastor, who wished him
to attend school in Middletown, Conn. Three
years passed away, during which time  Bob was
well supplied with funds, paid close attention to
his studies, and had shown a most astonishing
proficiency. So great was his improvement that,
notwithstanding the defects in his early education,
he was nearly equal, in the common branches of
education, to other young men of his age. But
he enlisted in a Conniecticut regiment, in 1863,
and went to the war, having first obtained the
consent of Pickard. He was wounded in a skir mish on the Potomac, and, being discharged in
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RECEIVING HIS REWARD.
1864 for disability, resumed his studies again at
AIiddletown.  He did not attempt to take a complete college course, but went, in 1867, to New
Haven, where he entered the Law School.
M1eanwhile Pickardcl became so industrious and
sober that he could no longer lay claim to the
title of "Drunken Pickard," and his whole life
was devoted to Bob's welfare. To send the greater
part of his wages to Bob, and to get the letters
which the latter wrote regularly to him, were the
two greatest joys of his life.  He could not afford
the money for a drink, so he never got drunk;
while his desire to increase his wages- which
was often gratified- was so great that he paid
his undivided attention to it, and performed whatever extra work was given himn with promptitude
and care.
Bob graduated, and has begun the practice of
law as a junior partner in an old New York firm,
and declares that after this year "Uncle Pickard"
shall not do another day's work; while the old
man, somewhat bowed with excessive labor, but
the healthier for his temperate habits, declares
himself perfectly satisfied with that "good oldfashioned way of changing works."
171 
CHAPTERE XI.
AMIONG THIE "STRIKERS."
Character of "Strikers." - Homes of Workmen. - Life of a
Factory Girl. - Of Factory Men. - Tailors' and Telegraph
Strikes. -The "Dover Strike." - Incidents of Factory Life,
&c.
I.
F it needed any argument to prove what is
already patent to the most careless observer,
namely, that the working-classes are naturally intelligent and able, nothing would be more forcible than
a reference to the "strikes" which have occurred
among the operatives in New England within the
last ten years.  It may be thought that because
the Chinese, the Jews, the Pomans, and the Gauls
"struck" in the early ages of the world, and because these organized attempts of laborers to raise
their Wrages have been frequent in modern times,
that it is a very simple and easy thing to do. But
it.is something more than simply refusing to work;
and in these days, when the political economy of
the world is so regulated that the laborers of one
oI  
'CHARACTER OF "STRIKERS." 
locality are financially interested in those of every
other, it requires courage, perseverance, honesty,
and fidelity,- courage to face starvation, for the
sake of justice; perseverance to hold out until
the loss of money -often the only avenue to a
capitalist's heart -  compels thie factory princes
to do justly; honest in the desire to obtain what
is their due and nothing more; fidelity to each
other, in order that the traitorous behavior of a few
shall not defeat the purpose of the many.
That the operatives have often shown all those
characteristics which distinguish the highest type
of manhood  and womanhood is easily proved.
Thousands of the working-people are in the lowest state of poverty, and living a domestic life not
one grade above the hogs that wallow about their
hovels. I know of no better evidence with which
to convince my readers than the published public
reports of State officials in Massachusetts, New
Hampshire, Phode Island, and Connecticut.  General II. K. Oliver, of Massachusetts, whose interest
in the welfare of the working-men has been one of
the leacling traits of his noble character, says that:
"Here will be found, in the labyrinthal slums
of cities, in narrow courts, dark lanes, and nasty
alleys, wretched tenements, with small rooms, dismal, dark, unventilated, into which the sun, God's
free gift, never sends a shimmering ray; packed
full of men, women, and children, as thick as
173 
NIATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
smoked herrings in a grocer's box. Hiere they
breed, here they live (!), and here they die, with
thleir half-starved, ill-clad children,- death's daily
dish, with typhus and scarlet fever and cholera
for his butchers; and these festering stys, owned
by gentlemen of fortune,'who live at home at
ease,' and whose gold is of the sweat of their tenants' brow, in a rental of fifteen to twenty per
cent, paid i7n  advance! In such dens, if a horse
were kept, the society for the suppression of cruelty
to animals should look after his owner." *
Speaking of the tenements in which the working-people of Boston live, he states that on the occasion of a recent visit to one locality he found fiftyfour families occupying fifty-six rooms.   "These
families comprised whites, English, and Irish, mostly the latter, blacks, mulattoes, and Indians,men, women, and children. From the testimony
of the lessee and others, there had been as many
as 450 occupants at one time, an average of seven
persons to a room, each room being 17 X 15 feet
and 7 feet hig,h, or, say, 226 cubic feet to each person.   The  rooms  are smoky,  damp, unpainted,
and mostly unwhitewashed, and are sitting-room,
kitchen, wood-room, and living-room all united in
one, with no solar ray ever entering them, excepting at the uppermost floor. A few plants in some
* Massachusetts Report of the Bureau of Statistics of Labor,
p. 88.
174 
WORKINGMEN'S HOMES.
of the rooms had died, and no wonder. There was
no transom-window over any door, and not a window in the house could be let down from the top
for air, and no ventilation in any entry. There is
no fire-escape of any sort anywhere about the building, and no banisters to many of the stairs, so that,
in case of fire, it would not be possible for the tenants to escape without loss of life. The cellars
were very damp, and only lighted by what light
could get into them through the interstices between
the wooden bars nailed on in the place of windows.
There was but one solitary sink in any room, and
that was in a room occupied by a colored woman."
Now when a man can afford only such a tenement as this, and has employment sufficient
to pay the rent, it will require no small amount
of courage to enable him  to "strike" and risk
his very existence and that of his family on
the result.  For the loss of a single day's wages
would insure suffering, while a month or a week
might result in a dreadful death. Yet many have
faced the terrible possibility, fully conscious of
their risks, with the hope of bettering themselves,
or of assisting others.  Some idea can be formed
of the risk which "strikers" run by those who
are acquainted with the "code of honor" that has
been adopted by manufacturers, and which obliges
the agent of each factory to deny work to every
working man or woman who has ever joined in an
175
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
unsuccessful strike! This makes the strikes in
many cases the mere choice between starvation
and an increase of wages; and no man or woman
would place himself or herself in such a position,
or hold out against a powerful corporation for a
single day, who had not a large endowment of
moral courage. We see, however, that thousands
of intelligent laborers do place themselves in this
hazardous position, and hold it through privation
and pain until justice is given them. ilMore than
this; there are many who, in the face of almost
certain discharge, have boldly petitioned the corporations to investigate and prevent the future
recurrence of the grievances recounted.   Many
times have these martyrs to a cause which had
not only themselves but many others in view been
persecuted and hunted for daring to ask for right.
It is no exaggeration to say that there are hundreds of operatives now out of employment in
New England and living in abject poverty, who
would still have been in the factories, had they
not obeyed the personal call of State and national
committees who asked for information upon the
treatment of laborers. Many have been discharged
for consenzting to communicate with public committees, and as all the manufactories exchange
pay-rolls, the name of the discharged person is
known and posted in every factory of New En,g
land.
176
,W
k= 
MORALS AND WORK.
II.
IT is not owing to the degeneration of the working-classes while employed in the shops that has
made the difference between the operatives of today and those employed a half-century ago.  It is
the result of the introduction by the factory-owners of the very lowest classes to the exclusion of
older and more moral employees. It may be that
honest industry tends toward moral honesty, and
that the acquirement of physical power gives mental and moral strength; for it seems to be a fact
that very few ever leave the factory morally worse
than when they entered it, while many develop
there the noblest traits of human character. If
under such  circumstances, with  no opportunity
to pursue a course of education, little time for
thought or discussion, they show a natural nobleness, what might they not be if given all the wages
to which they would be entitled on the co-operative principle, and, with short hours of labor,
allowed to cultivate and discipline their intellectual powers?
That it requires an effort to sustain a good character amid the influences of factory-life, and that
the present good behavior of the operatives is due
much more to their natural inherent virtue than
to oppressive and unnecessary "regulation," can
be seen at a glance.
8*
177
L 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
The girls who work in a factory are never alone,
-always in a crowd, always conversing or working,
always in fear of observation; sleeping in crowded apartments, eating at a crowded table, entering
the mills at a crowded door-way, and seeking recreation on streets which are crowded with their
companions.   In this concourse are persons of
every grade and shade of character, all of whom
are necessarily the associates of each person who
enters the employ of the corporation. The girl
who enters the factory as an operative is always
called to the agent's desk and directed to sign the
"regulation paper," by which she binds herself in
contracts, the import of which is as unmeaning and
mythical to her as are the army regulations to
newly recruited soldiers.  She may not, and in
nearly every case does not, know that she binds
herself to do whatever the agent demands, or pay
a forfeit. But she is educated into her slavery by
degrees, as accident or opportunity calls her attention to the long roll of by-laws and rules. She
rises at an early hour in the morning at the imperative call of the "second bell," and, after dressing herself in the most hurried manner, and with
scarcely time to brush her hair and to wash her
face,- which is done in the general wash-room
near the dining-room, - she rushes with the crowd
to the table where the coffee has been poured out
and the biscuit distributed for the hasty meal.
178
ii 
LIFE OF A FEMALE OPERATIVE.
Sle swallows  the  coffee in hurried  draughts,
snatches a few mouthfuls of bread, and with as little breakfast as she hias appetite jumps from the
table to don her hat and shawl.  Then in the rushing, pushing, jokinu, shouting multitude she is carried along to the factory. Crushing up the stairway, dividing on the landings, spreading through
the building, the mass of human machinery moves
to its station, and she finds herself at the last stroke
of the warning bell near the loom, the dresser, or
the flyers.  Slowly the belts begin to turn upon
the pulleys, faintly sounds the roar of the wheels
below, and faster, louder, stronger, move the dizzy
wheels about her, until at last, with a rattle and a
hum, the whole mechanism of the great factory
bursts into eloquent activity. Then with lively
steps and nimble fingers she applies herself to her
arduous task. As the hours pass on her appetite
comes, and she craves the breakfast which in her
haste she did not eat. 0, such hunger! as the
slow, tantalizing minute-hand creeps around the
face of the clock. Every minute is an age. The
pangs of hunger become almost unbearable as the
hand approaches "twelve," and her feet will hardly sustain her as she flies back and forth in her
work. The clock strikes twelve. Instantly the
speed begins to go down, the flyers, the spokes, the
belt-knots, and shuttles gradually to show their
outlines, and with a steady decadence the whole
179
t 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
apparatus sighs and starts as if dying, then trembles, shrieks, and stops as if dead.
Seizing her bonnet and shawl, the operative joins
in the general rush for the door-way, leaps down the
stairs, hastens across the yard, and, with the smallest show of ceremony, seats herself at the table,
w-hich is prepared, as before, for a hasty meal.
There can be but little table etiquette in such circumstances, and as the time is short and the lhunger uncontrollable, she eats as every other being
would eat which found itself in the same condition.
Then another rush for the mrnill, six more wearisome hours, and the day's work is done. There
may or may not be a rush of the boarders for the
supper-table, as that depends much upon the reputation of the house for plenty and impartiality.
But the manners of the dinner-hour are likely to
be repeated from force of habit. Then come a few
spare hours in which the girl may sit in the parlor reserved for her and her lover, may walk upon
the street, or busy herself in her room with reading or sewing.  She is never idle, and often denies
herself necessary exercise in order to read some
favorite book, make some additions to her wearing
apparel, or wash the extra clothing which the regulations do not allow in the "general washing."
It is a frequent practice among the girls to select one of the number to read aloud during the
180 
WORKING-WOMAN'S LIFE.
evenings while the others, seated around on the
cots or trunks, do the reader's sewing or mending
together with their own. Then the nine o'clock
bell sounds its warning to the girls, and, as the
lights must all be out at ten o'clock, they disrobe
and lie down upon their hard couches, from
which they often arise in the morning as weary
as when they retired.
This dull life follows day after day with monotonous routine in the experience of the factory-girls,
and one would think that the natural spirit of
enterprise or ambition which they possess when
they enter the mill would be wholly crushed out.
But with a wonderful exhibition of recuperative
energy, they retain their vivacity and spirit of independence (sometimes rendered impudence), and,
with the very meagre opportunities given them,
continue to improve their minds and hearts.  The
most oppressed class in factory communities, they
are, nevertheless, the most independent-spirited,
and the least patient when others are wronged.
The frequent expressions of contempt for meanness,
the undisguised dislike of arrogance or foppery, and
the common phrase, "If I were only a man!"
which comes to the lips when there is wrong to be
righted, show a natural character which only needs
culture and justice to mould into the highest form
of nobility.  This spirit they have ever shown in
their "strikes."
181
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
III.
WHAT shall I say of the men?  What can I say
of them as factory operatives that will not be offensive, and at the same time strictly true?  Here is
a field for thought. With a few hundred bright
exceptions the men are in a worse slavery than the
girls, - worse because it holds both body and soul
in bondage. Go to the mills and see how the mendicant workman kisses the rod that wounds him,
praises the overseer that swindles him, bears curses
and even kicks without a murmur, and then tell
me if you can that his condition is a desirable one.
Through years of toil and servility he has perchance obtained promotion, or he sees that by demeaning himself humbly he will be given such a
position; and, knowing that a single word, act, or
vote may cause his discharge, or the reduction of
his pay, and of the consequent chances of promotion, he wholly enslaves himself. Perhaps, if his
natural disposition is not too pure, he may so
stunt his affection and sympathy as to become a
fit tool for tyranny, and hence an "excellent overseer."
Such men can have but one ambition and one
idea. If they are known to be thoughtful, reasonable men they will be discharged; and consequently they care nothing for education, principle,
or enterprises of any kind.  Mere  automatons!
182
- 
THE CRISPINS.
The cotton-lords pull the string, and jumpin,g-jack
crooks his senseless legs.
To this rule, as to all others, there are exceptions, and the success of these exceptions in enriching( the stockholders, elevating humanity, and
making whole communities happier only serves to
throw the great majority into a deeper and blacker
shade. The exceptional factories have no "strikes."
and run on full time.
IV.
Ix 1858 and 1859 the shoe trade of New England reached enormous proportions, especially in
the sale of the cheapest and least durable class
of goods. Whole trains of cars were required to
carry away from the town of Lynn, Mass., the
manufactures of a single day. Thousands of workmen were employed in putting- perhaps I should
say, pasting - together a kind of shoes which, as
they were intended for the negroes, the Indians,
and the general "Western trade," were stuffed
with old rags, "chips" of leather, and soled with
pasteboard and other equally cheap material. At
that time sufficient stock could be manufactured
by working four months in a year; and although
very good wages were paid the shoemakers during
the busy season, yet, as many of them could not
obtain other workl for the remaining eight months
183 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
of the year, they were reduced to abject poverty.
The shoemakers of Lynn were looked upon by the
people of surrounding cities as a vile and undesirable population. This opinion gained support,
and doubtless was originated by the povertystricken appearance of the houses in which these
workmen resided. Yet in those same years the
shoe manufacturers increased their wealth at a
most astonishing rate.  Gold rolled in upon them
like a flood, and men who in 1856 were the possessors of very moderate means found themselves
money kings in 1859. Great was the contrast
between the capitalist and workman; for while the
man who earned the money was becoming poorer
and poorer, if such a thing were possible, the man
who did nothing but venture his money in an investment of the safety of which he was well assured, had so much money, so many houses, lands,
and luxuries, that he hardly knew what to do with
them.
It took the workmen a long time to awaken to
a sense of the injustice which afflictedthem. They
could not understand how it was that, while they
were suffering for food,- their wives taking washing, picking berries, or making articles of wearing
apparel to supply the usual meals, - their employers, who a few years before were shopmen or retail
store-keepers, now had their servants and livery,
their palaces and banquets.
184
'L: 
CAPITAL AND LABOR.
But the time came when, with the teachings and
under the leadership of a few natural aristocrats
who arose to dispute the claims of the moneyed
aristocracy, the workmen of Lynn fully realized
their situation, and claimed a greater share of the
enormous profits.  They asked for a small advance
in their pay.  It was not much when the profits
were taken into consideration, but the capitalists would not grant it. They believed that they
had the power to compel the shoemakers to
work for the same wages, and they attempted to
exercise it.
Then came a hardcl-fought battle, such as sometimes startle communities in time of peace, and in
which there are more wounded and killed than
there are in time of war.  It was labor against
capital; and was fought upon either side with the
greatest determination. Capital was organized;
labor was not.   The manufacturers had a large
supply laid up for future trade; but the laborers
had nothing laid by against such a time of need.
So for lack of discipline, organization, and supplies
the laborers lost the battle. The capitalists held
possession of the field, but the workmen were not
captured.
After passing a hard winter, in which they suffered untold privations, and during which some
died, others became permanently disabled with
disease, and many adopted other callings, they
185 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
scattered in the early spring, - some to the South,
some to the West, and a few to the farms of
Northern New England. Meanwhile the capitalists secured a partial supply of laborers from
other parts of the United States, to whom they
granted better terms, though not the exact wages
vliich the strikers had demanded and on which
as on a "point of honor" they remained firm.
But the shoe business never resumed its former
prosperity, for other towns and cities during the
"strike" took the workmen and trade of Lynn,
and retained a good proportion of it.
In 1861 the great Civil War began, and there
was a call for troops. To this patriotic request the
shoemakers were among the first to respond, and
that same city of Lynn sent out two regiments,
the greater portions of which were shoemakers.
The remnants of the strikers from all over the
land met again on the battle-fields of the South,
and renewed the old friendships which existed
when such adverse fortune drove them asunder.
In those camps and garrisons, on the picket posts
and parapets, these shoemakers told over and over
again the story of the great "strike" and the incidents attending it. All this while the military
campaigns failed or succeeded, the army was defeated or won victories from day to day, and each
result taught its lesson to every common soldier
engaged in the battles. The necessity for close
186 
STRATEGY FOR PEACE.
organization, for discipline, union, and concentration, was apparent to the most casual spectator.
Why not apply army tactics and strategy to the
battles which are fought in time of peace?  Why
not unite the shoemakers in a bond of sworn brotherhood, and hereafter make no demands which
they did not feel that they possessed the power to
enforce?
They were thoroughly schooled in the science of
army organization, and saw that, however ill they
mihlt be treated in time of peace, they were of
great importance to the nation when it was in
danger. They saw a powerful organization, under
the leadership of a single mind, overthrowing
one system of slavery; and they discerned how,
by the same means, another system might be destroyed.
The war closed; and these men, who had been
four years planning and discussing, returned to
their old labors in the shoe-shops of the country.
Again the shoe trade began to flourish, the contractors gathered again the whole harvest of gold,
as the laborers thought, and every week made
more and more apparent the necessity for an
organization strong enough to compete and, if
necessary, fight with capital.
At this juncture Newell A. Daniels, one of that
titled band for whose cause this book is written,
appeared as the champion of thle shoemakers.
187 
NATURE'S' ARISTOCRACY.
Possessed of a mind as able as his heart was good;
being earnest, practical, persevering, and industrious; having  the  enterprise which accompanies
New England nativity, and the open-heartedness
of a Western man, he founded the order of the
"Knights of  St. Crispin"  (St. Crispin was  a
travelling monk, who made shoes for charitable
purposes, and to supply himself with food). With
the assistance of William J. McLaughlin, of
Massachusetts, and several other able and honest
men, the order was rapidly extended. In 1870 it
included nearly every male  shoemaker in  the
United States, and a great many in the Canadas;
all of whom united in a band of brotherhood, not
for the purpose of warring on capital, not merely
to raise their wages, but to secure their just rights,
educate one another, and provide for the needy.
In this they have succeeded.  There have been
"strikes" in Chicago, St. Louis,  San Francisco,
Rochester, N. Y., Worcester, and many other cities;
but by taxing the whole order to provide for
the strikers, and having been so successful in
pledging to their cause all the best workmen, the
capitalists in every instance were obliged to yield;
and both labor and capital are receivers of their
due returns.
In no case do the Crispins counsel violence, and
their strikes, like their intentions, have been peaceful and unassuming. Even when the first load
188 
KNIGHTS AND DAUGHTERS.
of Coolies were brought into Massachusetts for the
avowed purpose of insulting and breaking up the
organization, there was no riot and no disturbance
of any kind. They are brothers now in word and
deed; and so long as they remain united upon the
broad ground of justice and equality which they
have now taken, and strand not upon the rocks
of discord so apt to underlie a too calm sea of
prosperity, they will be powerful agents in the
elevation of the workingmen and in the support
of national prosperity.
V.
THE women! how men run after them when
there is money to be made, and how soon desert
them when there is money to be lost! Even the
Knights of St. Crispin, with all their strength
and honesty of purpose, could not hope to be
successful if the women did not second their
efforts. The men might strike and strike till
doomsday, for all the capitalists would care, when
so many thousand women stood ready with able
hands to do the work which the men refused.
But the women are generous, - far too generous in
some respects for the good of the race,- and, seeing the justice of the Crispins' demands, came at
once to their relief by organizing the order of
The daughters of St. Crispin."  The women knew
189 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
that if they did not organize, the Knights of St.
Crispin might be defeated; and a defeat of the
men would really be a victory for the women,
as in every strike the women would be given
better places and better wages. But they entertained no such selfish, contemptible spirit as such
motives would create, and they have ever stood
ready to assist in maintaining every effort of the
men which has right for its end.
Now, in perfect harmony, being careful to ask for
nothing unreasonable, the Knights and Daughters
of St. Crispin work together; and it needs but
a glance at the neat homes, the tidy dress, the
happy faces, the shelves of books and periodicals,
which occupy the sites of former hovels, to convince the lover of humanity of the wisdom and
goodness of those who founded these orders.
VI.
DURING the year ending October 1, 1870, there
were twelve strikes in New  England, and it so
happened that I was present at a part of the meetings in six of the disturbed localities.
In October, 1869, the journeymen tailors of Boston struck for an increase of wages. Before taking, the step, however, the Boston branch of the
National Trades Union consulted with their brethren in other localities as to theexpediency of the
190
_.w 
THE TAILORS' "STRIKE."
proposed measures, and when they were wholly
prepared they submitted their new "bill of prices,"
giving the employers the choice between the new
prices and no work. No arrogance, no force, no
ill-will marked their movements, but every request
was couched in respectful language, supported with
unanswerable arguments, and pressed with a calm
spirit of determination. There was a great bluster
among the dealers and contractors, and much loud
talk about "never submitting." But as they lacked
an organization, and could not agree among themselves upon the best course to pursue, they concluded one after another to pay the demands and
supply their impatient customers.
Yet they did not submit with a good grace, and
muttered vengeance while they consented which
boded no good to the tailors.
Since that time the dealers have turned their
attention to the tailoresses, and finding  among
them many efficient persons who were as well able
to make a coat as were the men, they quietly gave
them the needed instruction and discharged the
jour.s.  The jour.s took too little notice of the
tailoresses to ask for a national organization of
the women before the "strikes" began to protect
them, and to this cause more than to the introduction of foreign workmen is due the present unfortunate condition of the journeymen tailors of
the country.
191 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
VII.
IT will be many years before I shall forget that
cold, blustering December day when I stepped
from the train at Dover, N. H., during the great
strike of 1869.  The Cocheco Cotton Manufacturing Company of that city, having in its employ
about eight hundred operatives, gave them notice
that from December 1, 1869, the pay of the employees would be reduced twelve per cent. To
this reduction the operatives protested, saying,
among other statements, that the company was as
prosperous as it had ever been, which was shown
by the facts that its stock was held at two hundred and fifty dollars premium on each share of
five hundred dollars, and that its premiums had
never been less than sixteen per cent. They also
showed how the manufactures of that mill, owing
to the superior work which its intelligent employees turned out, brought two cents more on a yard
than the cloth of any other mill, with not one
exception, in New England, while the employees
were not paid as much as they were in many other
mills to which reference was made. But their
protest was of no avail because the agent bad no
authority "to disobey the commands of the directors," and they had decided "after due deliberation"
that such a course would be "for their advantage."
Consequently all the weavers - nearly four hun
192
w 
THE DOVER "STRIKE."
dred -and the majority of the other employees
left the factory, and refused to enter it again unless
they could be guaranteed the same pay that they
had been receiving
ANlien I arrived there were over eight hundred
of the employees out of the factory, and hence out
of any kind of business; and although the day
was cold, the snow deep, and clouds overhead, the
streets presented a lively and interesting appearance.  All the people of Dover espoused the cause
of the strikers, and the excitement called out all
the citizens of the city and attracted many strangers from abroad. Great was the enthusiasm. The
girls were confident of success because the justice
of their cause was so apparent. No person thought
that the corporation could hold out against such
a strong current of public opinion, or that they
would risk the reputation of the mill and the value
of their stock in the market.
They had, however, determined to reduce the
pay, and, make or lose, they would adhere to their
resolution. But for this tyrannical resolve I should
never have seen the beautiful and intelligent faces
which stood upon the platform, nor have listened
to their sweet voices in speech or song under
the "starry canopy" of Exchange Hall.  The voices,
the day, the place, the songs, and even the words
of welcome, may perhaps be forgotten, but the faces
never will. They have become a part of my being,
9
193
11 
NATURIE'S ARISTOCRACY.
and wherever I go the bright faces, the dark faces,
the happy faces, and the sad faces all gather around
me urging on the battle which is only just begun.
Never was there gathered an audience of eight
hundred persons in which there were so many remarkable countenances. They all belong to old
New Hampshire stock. There was but the slightest
mixture of foreign blood, and nearly every person
in the hall was born among the granite hills. They
knew their rights, "and knowing dared maintain,"
while their every act was indicative of natural
sprightliness, independence of character, and a
laudable amount of self-culture. It did not seem
possible that the wishes of such an intelligent
and considerate class should be ignored when they
asked for bread. I remember one old lady who
was introduced as "a soldier's widowed mother,"
who entered the mill twenty-six years ago. What
changes she had seen!  Once she had been a
weaver in that same mill, having the charge of
only two looms, with spare hands to spell her, and
had received more wages in value than she now re ceived after an apprenticeship of twenty-six years,
and while attending upon four looms. Time after
time the company had cut down the pay,- always
reducing when the market was dull, and never
raising when the goods were in active demand,
until now the new girls who had charge of six
looms received the same pay that was once given
194 
SONG AND STORY.
for tending two. Meantime the board had advanced from $1.25 a week to $ 3 per week.
The strikers assembled every day in the hall,
as they had no other place to go, and encouraged
each other to hold out with speeches, anecdotes,
and songs.  I recollect a song now, which was
rendered in an excellent manner by a boy, and
which seemed to thrill every person present. It
was entitled the "Sailor's Grave," and in it were
the following words:
"I Death struck,- he gave no coward alarms,
For he smiled and died in his messmate's arms.
We proudly decked his fmuneral vest
Wfth the stars and stripes upon his breast;
We gave him this as a badge of the brave,
And then he was fit for a sailor's grave."
Sitting near me at the time this plaintive song
was sung was a beautiful young lady by the name
of Cynthia  Howe.  I noticed that she showed
much interest in the ballad during the rendition
of the first verses; but when the singer came to
the words above quoted, she burst into tears, and,
laying her head upon the back of the seat, sobbed
in a most piteous manner. After the boy had
taken his seat, I asked her why she felt so grieved,
and this is thie story as she told it to me on that
occasion.
Jier only brother was an officer in the Gulf
naval squadron, under the command of Admiral
195
w- - 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Farragut. On him the hopes of the aged and indigent parents depended, and he was consequently
the idol of parents and sister.  But he was killed
by a piece of a bomb-shell as he was walking
the deck of his vessel in the attack on Mobile. He
died in "his messmate's arms" and was "decked"
in the stars and stripes; and hence the power of
the song on the only remaining child who was trying to cheer the declining years of her parents
with the fruits of industrious toil.
This affecting incident led me to inquire further,
and to my surprise I found that a very large number of the girls who "struck" were the widows,
mothers, sisters, or daughters of soldiers who were
killed in the war with the Rebellion. Many of
these were the relatives of soldiers who disappeared in such circumstances that no trace or record of their death was found, and the families for
that reason could get no assistance from the government.  This was the case with the old lady 
who entered the mill twenty-six years ago.
Taking into consideration the great promises
which were held out to those soldiers, and the
moral agreement which the State made to provide
for the destitute whom such men left behind, I
cannot refrain from reproaching the people - the
men- of New Hampshire with ingratitude and
perfidy for permitting those women to be swin dled in the way they were by a rich corporation,
196 
ASSISTING THE " STRIKERS."
the members of which lived and carried the profits
out of the State.
It was evident that some of the strikers must
suffer for food unless an organized effort was
made to provide for them. The citizens crowded
themselves and boarded as many as they could accommnodate, taking a lively interest in the operatives' welfare. A levee and festival was given at
the City Hall, to which the people of the city
and the Knights of St. Crispin contributed large
amounts, the proceeds of which were devoted to
the sustenance  of  the strikers.  Contributions
were received in money from other manufacturing
towns.
Meanwhile the directors of the company, the
stock of which had depreciated one hundred per
cent, scoured the country as far as Canada, and
brought in every woman, man, and child whom
they could hire at any price.  Nearly a week was
employed in this way, during which time the muills
were silent and dark. But after a sufficient number of hands had been secured to work a part of
the machinery, although the company must lose
much money through the awkwardness of "green
hands" and the expense of running without a full
supply of operatives, notice was given that the
mills would start, and such persons as wished to
resume work at the reduced wages could do so on
the following Monday morning.
197 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Great was the consternation amnong the strikers, for, until then, they had not deemed it possible that the company could be so "cruelly unjust."
There was weeping in many a household, and a
gloom was cast over the whole community.  Sad
faces everywhere. Many of the girls ~nqst work
even at the reduction, if they could not get better terms, while others, seeing that their condition
would be even worse than it had been, abandoned
the mnill, left Dover, and sought for other and more
remunerative employment.
Then followed the NeIew Hampshire election, and
it was thought that the excitement resulting from
the Dover strike would give a large vote to the
labor reform party. Politicians who addressed the
girls during the sessions of the mass  meetings
promised them justice through the polls. But,
alas! the real sufferers, like those strikers who were
promised the same thing thirty years before, could
not vote; while the great reduction Of wages made
it easy for capitalists to buy the votes of servile
men, and defeat the advocates of justice. The
smaller the wages paid a man the less value does
he put upon his vote, while the employer has more
money to expend for political purposes than he
had before. It is said by many that the general
rule now is to make the operatives pay for all improvements, for election expenses, for accidents,
and for other losses, always by a reduction. So
198 
END OF THE "' STRIKE."
that the sighIt of a new  wheel, new  blinds, new
buildings, improved machinery, a destructive fire,
or the sickness of stockholders are only the forerunners of a reduction in the rate of wages.
So the Dover strike closed, and as noble an
assembly of human beings as ever congregated under one roof were defeated, captured, and bound
by their avaricious taskmasters, for no other reason
than that the captives had none of the arms which
political power supplies, and were consequently
bare-handed, defenceless, and impotent.
One remarkable fact in connection with that
strike will show the character of the parties who
joined in the movement.  During the week a working,-woman's association was formed for the purpose of mutual aid and mutual instruction; and
when the officers were chosen they were nearly all
found to be graduates of the High Schools of Boston, and about nine out of ten of the members
were the graduates of some institution of learning.
To their intelligence alone was the corporation
indebted for the premium at which its productions
were held in the market over those of other inanu
factories.
VIII.
THE strike of the operators connected with the
Western UTnion TeleoTaph Company in the winter
of 1869 - 70 was one of the most remarkable
199 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
events of the kind that ever occurred in the United
States.  At nearly the same hour the telegraphoperators in a thousand different offices, including
almost every town and village on the line between Boston and San Francisco, left their desks
and refused to return until an operator, who had
been unjustly discharged in California, should be
returned to his position. It was a small matter,
the public said, about which to make so much disturbance; but it was just as important to the
operators as it would have been had a thousand
been discharged, or the wages of all decreased. It
was an infringement of the rules laid down by the
"Telegraphers' Union," and to those rules each
member had been sacredly pledged.  If they would
strike under any circumstances, then they must
strike for that cause.  They did not hesitate or
waver.  There was nothing cowardly about them,
and they showed marks of heroism when  they
risked their livelihood in defence of principle.
But the "greatest monopoly of the age" was
not to be defeated by fair means; and, taking advantage of the careless neglect of organization in
']Iaine, and availinug itself of such woman's help
as had not been considered of sufficient importance to organize, it began to do business again in an
awkward, limping, manner. Tile victory for the
Telegraph Company was complete as far as the
strikers were concerned; for their organization
200
,r 
TELEGRAPH OPERATORS.
was broken up; their most  skilled workmen
changed their occupation, and the remnant went
sorrowing back into such positions as the victors
chose to give them. But the battle was not won
without sacrifice on the side of the company; for,
after they had lost many thousand dollars on unsent despatches and misused apparatus, and had
so disturbed the commercial world as to give fresh
life and great respectability to a rival company,
they were obliged to increase their expenses in
order to do the same work which the old operators
had done so cheaply.  Two such victories would
be the death of any company that has not imperial power; and it is doubtful if the glory of that
success will ever prompt that company again to
defy the united strength of the operators in defence of a cause where
"'T is sure defeat to win."
IX.
DURING the same winter there were strikes
among the Crispins in several cities, but as they
asked so little and succeeded so completely, I cannot give space to them here. In the month of
June, 1870, however, there was a strike among
th e             operatives in a small cotton-mill at Canton,
Mass.             That town is one of  the  most  beautiful v    illages in New  England, and is remark             9*
201
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
able for the advantages of its location, the pieturesqueness of its scenery, and the general enterprise and ability of its people. The company
in whose building these operatives had been
employed was evidently determined at the outset
to be very generous and considerate toward the
operatives. They built nice little cottages for the
families of the operatives, and spared no pains to
give the grounds and houses a tasty and tidy
aspect.   They  had every appearance of homncs,
and one would have thought, before family secrets
were known, that the inmates of those cottages
must be very happy.   But as the subsequent
action of the company seemed to indicate that the
houses were "for effect" when Congressional committees, State boards, excursionists, and friends
should visit them, the cottages answered that
purpose and nothing more.
The company had been making preparations for
a strike by inducing the operatives to work fifteen
hours a day, and thus getting a sufficient supply
ahead of the demand to fill orders during the
suspension.
When a sufficient quantity of goods was manufactured, the company decided that the pay of the
operatives should be reduced ten per cent, and
directed the innocent agent to carry out the orders
and "take all of the curses."  He obeyed the orders and received the maximum number of curses.
202 
THE "STRIKE" IN CANTON.
The operatives in their protest stated that their
wages at thie old rate were less than they could
live upon, and procure the comforts of life; that
at a previous strike the proprietors had shown
perfidy in acceding to the demand for an increase
in the pay  per "cut" or piece, and afterwards
lengthening the pieces, so as to compel the operative to weave forty-six yards into each piece instead of thirty.
This had been repeatedly done in other factories.
Once a "cut" was thirty yards, and the operative
received twenty-five cents for weaving it; now it
is forty-five or forty-six yards, and the weaver
receives no more pay than she did when there were
only thirty.  The strikers also showed that the
company were growing very wealthy, and could
well afford to raise their wages twenty per cent
instead of cutting them down ten.  But the agent
bore these blows with becoming meekness, "would
see about it," "was sorry for them," &c., and probably said nothing to the directors about it, for fear
that those avaricious hounds would pitch upon him
and "take his head off."  So the girls were" on the
strike," and a jolly time they did have of it for a
few days. Nearly all of them boarded with their
own families, and were literally at home, and a few
days of rest, with enough excitement to prevent
monotony, was something to be appreciated by these
weary working-women. A morsel of fresh air, a
203
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
little recreation, time to think, and time to sleep
were something precious to them; and when they
secured it even by a strike, they were for the
time carelessly happy. It happened (somehow,
this happens often when the girls of any place are
on a strike) that the machinery of the Iron Works
broke down, and the employees of that company
joined in the crowd of strikers, swelling it to
very imnposing proportions. MIass meetings were
held on the bank of the river, in the public park,
and wherever the assembly deemed it to be expedient speeches were made, and the usual demonstrations customary on such occasions.
After a week of idleness the mill was again put
in ruinning order, and the news circulated by tlie
agent that the company had secured a sufficient
number of hands to run the mills, and a notice was
served on all the occupants of the company's cottages to vacate the premises at once, or resume
work in the mill at the reduced rates.
MIany of the twenty-six families who rented
houses of the company believed the report about
the supply of operatives, and felt that they must
yield. Then came as great sorrow as there had
been joy. There was a choice. They could stay
out and leave their homes, or they could go into the
mill and suffer. Either course led to privation and
to grave dangers which they hesitated to face.
Addressing myself to one lady who seemed unde
204
ir 
WORK OR  STARVE.
cided as to the best course to pursue, I asked her
wlhy she did not make up her mind; and I received
the following pointed reply:  "There is but little
choice, - it is starve if you go in, and starve if you
stay out. Once when I had only two looms, and
earned more than I can to-day, we had a petticoat
overseer who assisted us, and took our places when
we wished to rest, or were sick. Now I run six
looms, and have no assistance of any kind. Now
I get twenty-five cents a "cut," and by working
eleven hours I can earn on six looms one dollar a
day. This leaves me only six dollars a month for
clothing and other expenses, after paying my board
and laying up nothing.  If I take another loom, as
I am urged to do, to earn my old wages, I cannot
do my work well.  Often when we have plenty of
time, and only four looms to watch, thie mildewed
thread is so weak that it constantly breaks, and we
are fined for doing poor work.  Sometimes we are
obliged to purchase the whole piece, and pay the
rich owner out of our little wages for cloth which
an angel could not make strong from such rotten
material. On the reduction it is not possible to
live.
"On the other hand, if I go out the owners will do
by ine as they have by others, taking the pains to
get me discharged from any factory in which I
might otherwise be employed.   Considering then
the pure air of the hills as compared with the
205
mr 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
tainted atmosphere in the unventilated mill, and
the glorious freedom of out-door life, I have come
near to the conclusion that it is better to stay out
and starve in the sunshine than to work and famish
in those musty shades."
Among the strikers were two young ladies of
fine tastes, handsome personal appearance, and refined education, who had sought employment in the
mill as a last resort, for the support of themselves,
their widowed mother, and a little orphan cousin.
They had a cultivated taste for music and the fine
arts, and delighted me during my stay at their
home with occasional musical performances. There
was nothing more heroic about their toilsome life
and the support of their mother than I had seen in
many other places, although that was praiseworthy;
but to see them dividing their earnings with the
little orphan boy, when they had not plenty for
themselves, was an uncommon and a most touching
sight.  The father of the boy had been a soldier,
and after the war he did not recover the health
which he lost in the South. In a fit of insanity
he wandered off, and had never been heard from by
his sister since his departure several years ago.
She believed that he was dead, and she had taken
the little boy as a member of the family. I pitied
the little fellow, whose intellectual face saddened
whenever anything happened to remind him of his
father, or of his dependence upon his kind aunt and
. 206
w 
LESSONS IN LIFE.
cousins. Hiow kindly they cared for him, and how
considerate they appeared to be of his feelings!
They were happy, even in their privation, receiving
the purest joy which comes to man as a reward for
their benevolence and sympathy.
If the Canton strike gained the employees nothing financially, and if the manufacturers did
not so far disgrace themselves as to depreciate the
stock or value of their goods, there was, nevertheless, a profit to me as a spectator beyond anything
which money can bring. I saw there the best
side of human nature, and gained such fresh confidence in the human race by contemplating the
faces and actions of that kind-hearted family, that
I felt as if the world were more attractive and life
more desirable than ever before.
There are many bright gems which the world
has not seen, and a thousand joys in the hearts of
the benevolent poor which the avaricious wealthy
can never know.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
X.
ONE evening in the summer of 1868 there were
gathered in the largest hall of Fall PRiver, Mass.,
one of the most intelligent audiences that ever
assembled in a manufacturing town.  It was an
207
wWI- 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
occasion when the friends of the " Ten-Hiour
Movement" were  to  show their strength and
explain the objects of the associations lwhich were
springing up in all parts of the Eastern States.
There were lawyers, officials, factory proprietors,
and wealthy merchants mingled with the assembly,
while many accepted the invitation to come forward
and occupy seats upon the platform. There seemed
to be but one opinion. Rich and poor, employer
and workman, were united upon the question of
reducing the hours of labor.   I remember  the
cheers and the eloquent words which came so
spontaneously from the mouths of the assembly,
and I felt, as the meeting closed, as if the factories
would begin, if not on the morrow, certainly at
no distant day, the experiment of ten hours of
labor, and ten hours only. But when on the next
day I visited some of the owners at their invitation, and asked them why they did not undertake
the experiment at once, they said that it was a
movement upon which it was necessary to have
a union of the manufacturers before it could be
put in practical operation.  They knew that ten
hours, and perhaps nine, would give them just as
much work and less expense, while the laborer
would have the extra time for mental and social
improvement; but they said that it was a system which they could not introduce alone. It
would spread discontent in other factories, the
208 
MULE-SPINNERS' "STRIKE."
owners of which might not be believers in the
ten-hour plan.  These men, however, were willing
to give their money and personal influence toward
the institution of ten-hour associations.
In this they kept their word, and the factoryowners of Fall River were the most liberal supporters of that movement for a considerable time.
They tried the plan of running ten hours a day
for a year or more, but gave it up, as they claimed,
because they could not compete with other factories. The union of manufacturers upon the tenhour question has not yet come, althougoh  the
National Congress and State Legislatures, through
the influence of those associations, have made
some wise provisions by statute. The manufacturers of modern times seem to think that man is
a machine which will run as long as the power is
applied, and be as efficient during the last hours
as it is at the beginning of the day.  One would
suppose that with all their experience and boasted
Yankee "sharpness," they would see the fallacy of
that argument; especially since the astonishing
results of the Ten-Hour Bill in England have
shown so conclusively that men and women will
do as much work in a year at ten hours a day as
they will if required to toil twelve hours a day.*
In July, 1870, the mule-spinners employed in
* "History of the Ten-Hour Legislation,"- Richard Grant.
"Workmen and Wages," - Ward.
N
209
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NATUPRE'S ARISTOCRACY.
one of the mills in Fall River struck, and left
the factory because the proprietors wished to reduce their wages ten per cent. Before doing this,
however, the spinners attempted to make a compromise, and indicated their willingness to work
on at a reduction of five  per cent.  But the
haughty capitalists treated their communications
with silent contempt.  Consequently, twenty thlousand working men and women were either voluntarily absent from their business, or compelled,
from their dependence upon the spinners for supplies, to suspend their labor. Many people prophesied that such a large number of laborers would
not remain long in peaceful idleness,  and the
whole city was more or less in fear of a riot. The
exasperated factory officials were longing for a
riot, or some other unlawful demonstration which
would give them some legal hold upon the strikers,
and, it is said, took a great deal of pains to advertise the time and place when a riot "would come
off," in order that a crowd might gather and their
wishes be fulfilled.   The  crowd gathered,  but
there was no riot. And that twenty thousand,
exasperated by injustice, in a measure, coarse and
crude, and insulted by the presence of police that
were brought to awe them, and by companies of
militia ordered out one day by the capitalists to
make the public think there was great danger,
did not commit a single act of violence, or damage
210 
CONSISTENT CAPITALISTS.
a dollar's worth of property.   There were some
individual meape'es, and some threats by a few inconsiderate ones; but the great body discountenanced any violence, and were  peaceful, wellbehaved citizens.   For two months the strike
continued; furnishling a most exciting theme for
New England gossip; and at last ended in the return of the operatives at the reduced prices, and
under a pledge never to engage in another strike.
The strikers were literally starved into submission,
and after enduring the greatest hardships which
men ever accept in defence of a principle, ttey
cowed before the capital, and another page was
added to the record of defeat which weakness and
right suffer from strength and wrong.
Taking sides with the mill-owners on all occasions were to be found the ardent advocates of a
"ten-hour system"; so inconsistently supporting
a reduction which must sooner or later compel the
employees to labor an additional hour a day in
order to support themselves. Consistency may be
a jewel, but it never ornaments the persons of
such men.  The fact is that "ten-hour systems,"
"labor reforms," or any other of the many hobbies
that men now ride into popularity upon, are all
worse than useless unless founded upon the one
great principle of justice, and it was on that
ground that the strikers of Fall River took their
stand.
211
mr 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
The "factory system" or any other system that
has the subject of labor and capital in view, is
morally, and should be lawfully, nothing more nor
less than a co-operative association. Philosophers
claim to see in the future a new system in which
the laborer shall be a partaker in the profits of the
factory or farm. They would have the laborer
receive a stipulated sum and the capitalist another
stated amount, after which the profits shall be
equally divided; or there is to be no wages, but
a fair division of the profits instead, -either of
which seems nothing more than simple justice.
But that end could just as well be reached by an
increase of the wages, until the laborer received
in that way his just proportion of the profits, and
when  money was  lost, a proportionate decrease.
I do not believe that a strike ever occurred
where the operatives knew, when the decrease was
announced, that the stockholders were not then
growing immensely rich out of the profits of the
business or had not already received enough more
than their just proportion of previous profits to
carry the employees equitably over the "dull season" at their old wages. There is no equity or
justice in giving to one man a million of dollars
a year, while fifty thousand of his partners in the
work receive only six or seven hundred. He may
be, with his capital, entitled to a larger proportion
than the workmen, but never to such a share as
212
w 
CO-OPERATION.
that or as gTeat as one half of that amount would
be.
That the laborers are naturally entitled to a
position on an equal with the employer is shown
by their equality in intellectual and physical endowments; and as such they have been recognized
by every great statesman or lawgiver of the world.
"The world is the Lord's," said an eminent German writer, "and we are his children. How then
can it be that so many of us are born into the
world with no landed inheritance?" He might
also have asked, How can it be that fellow-men
are permitted to curse the disinherited ones with a
life of bondage, in which they earn much and get
little, see plenty and have nothing?
213 
CHAPTER XII.
CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS.
What is Charity?- Wages according to the Profits. - The Law rence Calamity.- Charity and small Wages. - Cutting down
the Pay of Operatives to make great Donations; - Temporary
Relief not a permanent Cure.-'Homes." - Their Uses and
Abuses.- How a "Soldiers' Home" was supported. - Inci dents, &c.
I.
H ARITY! -how many conflicting reflections
that word brings into the mind! Love, pride,
vice, shame, benevolence, ambition, hate, righteousness, and sin seem so squeezed and mashed
into one another in the idea it suggests, that an
accurate definition would be impossible. The time
was when it meant a simple, unostentatious act
of the purest sympathy and love. But that day
passed more than eighteen hundred years ago. Today it is applied to anything and everything which
a rich man may do to gain praise. It consists, not
in doing justly, not in permanently assisting unfortunate mankind, or in such acts as prevent poverty
or suffering, but is applied to the giver of presents. 
CHARITY.
If a man is wealthy enough to give a million of
dollars to a church, college, school, or hospital,
without missing it, his action is emblazoned on
the banners of worldly praise as charity.
The state of that society is sufficiently unfortunate and unnatural where  charity, according to
the Bible definition, is needed to prevent suffering;
but it may be said to be in a very demoralized
condition when both the acts of old-fashioned
charity and new-fashioned benevolence cannot
alleviate the pangs consequent upon compulsory
poverty. It is dreadful to think that when a man
gives back to his victims, in a provision for "an
institution," a part of the sum of which he deliberately robbed them, he is to be lauded to the
skies as an example of mortal perfection.
In a true and natural state of society there
would be no paupers who deserved charity.
Wihere there are equal privileges and equal remuneration, the people are never poverty-stricken,
and never suffer for any of the comforts of life. A
case of a person mentally and physically disqualified to earn his own living, and at the same time
destitute of relatives able to help him, would be,
indeed, a rare occurrence in such a community as
that; while they who wilfully or lazily neglected the
opportunities given them ought to suffer, and their
poverty be held up as a warning to others.  That
we shall never see such perfection in human society
215 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
as long as human nature undergoes no radical
changcre is self-evident; but there is no reason why
we should not attempt tQ come as near to perfection as we  can.  Though we  may never expect
to see the time when there are no deserving poor
in our midst, still let us at least keep that number
at the lowest possible figure.
Much can be done by increasing the wages of
those classes who earn more than they get.  This
would be much more charitable than robbing them
through a series of years, and then giving the money
to which they are morally entitled to an asylum
where they may be cared for when broken and
crippled. Many a man who secured his money by
grinding the poor and appropriating that which
belonged to the laborer has, at his death, made
"munificent bequests," and been lauded as a saint.
I cannot say that these gifts and bequests are not
of great use to the world, for I am aware that a
great many institutions of learning and religion
have been founded and perpetuated by these means.
If man must be avaricious, and feels compelled to
overreach his less talented or weaker brother on
every occasion, then it is better to give it to charitable institutions than risk the poor man's earnings
in the hands of reckless or profligate children. But
how much better is it to do justly all one's life, and
at death have no great riches, nor see the need of
them for "charitable purposes "!
216
ml-,;7 -' 
CARE OF THE SUFFERING.
II.
WCHEN the  great disaster at Lawrence, Mass.,
caused by the fall of the Pemberton Mill, to which
reference has been made, became noised abroad,
there was such a flood of contributions from every
part of the United States that the committee on
the distribution of funds did not know what to do
with it. At first all kinds of provisions, medical
stores, and personal comforts camne in by the carload. This was followed by gifts in money, and so
frequent and liberal were the donations that a card
was published, saying that the committee did not
need any more money for the comfort or future welfare of the sufferers.  The funds remaining on hand
after the burial of the bodies, paying for medical
attendance, and providing homes, were invested as
a permanent fund, established for the benefit of the
crippled ones, and after their decease to other unfortunate factory operatives.   "What a charitable
people!" says the reader; and I would echo the
words of praise which naturally follow. But how
much better it would have been had the proprietors
shown a little charity for the laborers who built
the mill, and given them such waages as would have
insured its stable construction!
Again, the Lawrence disaster was not such an
extraordinary occurrence after all. It seemed more
terrible because the victims were all together, and
10
217
r 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
their cries for help were united; yet there are nearly
as many killed or maimedl every year in the factories of the United States as were injured by the
fall of that mill.  Here a man is crushed in the
gearing, there one has his arm or leg pulled off by
the belting, w-hile in another place some poor fellow
has been mutilated by a saw, or had his ribs broken
by a fall. Day after day, and year after year, we
read of these cases, think nothing, care nothing,
about them, and go our way pitying the sufferers
at the "great calamity."
A few years ago a young man of my acquaintance was standing near a carding-machine, when
he noticed that the supply of wool, in the absence
of the female attendant, had run out. He knew
that in a moment the cards would clash, and the
machine be damaged to the extent of several
hundred dollars. He did not wait to discuss the
probabilities of danger, or think of any reward
for such an active interest in the owner's welfare,
but sprang to the machine  and attempted  to
push the belt from the pulley. He succeeded ill
his efforts to stop the machine, but before the belt
was wholly off the drum of the pulley he slipped
upon the soaped floor, and his hand was caught ili
the machinery in such a way as to draw in his
right arm.
He had been an excellent hand about the fac tory, and was the most faithful servant that tihe
218
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STRANGE SYMPATHY.
corporation ever had. They expressed much regret at the loss of his services, and gave him verbal
assurance of their sympathy, at the same time
talct((igi himn  for saving the valuable  machine.
That was all. The arm was paralyzed for life; and
the cripple often seen afterward around the mill
with a basket of confectionery, trying in that way
to earn a scanty living. No rich stockholder ever
thought of giving, him money, nor did he appear
to be conscious of any indebtedness to him, yet
those same men of money sent very liberal presents indeed to the sufferers at Lawrence.
III.
IT appears to be a singular fact that those parties who are the most charitable pay the smallest
wages to persons in their employ. It often happens that while the mistress of a house is visiting
the poor or attending the board meetings of some
charitable institution, there are servant-girls at her
home washing the clothes and ceilings, taking up
carpets, or cooking the dinner, with whom she has
had a long and exciting debate over the twentyfive cents per week which the servant wished to
have added to her wages.  Nine chances out of
ten the mistress refused to pay the additional
twenty-five cents to the servant, while she gave
away ten dollars during the day to women who
219 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
had been servant-girls once, and who would not
have been the wrecks she saw had they received
reasonable compensation for their work.
A woman who hlad purchased a new set of furniture for her parlor at the cost of two thousand dollars, sent for an upholsterer to lay the carpets, &c.
On his telling her that, as he had spent years at
his trade, he must have five dollars for the day's
work, she dismissed him and sent for an upholsteress, whose price (as usual) was only half that
of the man.  WVith her the mistress discussed and
pleaded until the upholsteress, rather than haggle
longer, consented to do the work for twenty-five
cents less than the rulingt price. The furniture
was heavy and the  carpets thick, so  that the
woman had a most severe job, but this did not attract the attention of the mistress, who was all the
while cogitating upon the appearance of the parlor,
and who, after concluding that the covers for the
chairs and sofas were not rich enough to suit her
taste, sent w-ithlout hesitation to the store and purchased another set at the cost of fifteen dollars.
The same day she sent a servant, whose pay
was only $ 2.25 a week, to the florist's for a bouquet
of flowers costing $ 5, so that  she might see if
flowsers "increased the effect" of the new mantelpiece.  Soon after this a board of private charities
met in that same parlor, and the mistress of the
house gave four hundred dollars toward the "chari
220 
CHARITY TOO LATE.
table object" of providing a home for needy children.
A prominent factory-owner of PRiode Island was
requested on the Sabbath to subscribe to the fuind
for the building of a "branch chapel" where the
poor might receive  the gospel.  He cheerfully
placad five thousand dollars against his name, and
the very next day ordered a reduction in the wages
of his employees in order to make his "accounts
balance."
During the  strike in Canton, Mass., whlen so
many girls were obliged to accept such wages as
placed them within  the reach of want and its
attendant temptations, there were men in Boston
who  expressed great indignation  that  laborers
should attempt to dictate to capital.  "The employer has a perfect right to pay just such wages
as he chooses, and if the girls do not like the terms
they can turn their attention to somnething else,"
said one, without stopping to consider that, owing
to the rules adopted by each factory and the unskilfulness of the girls ill any other business, they
could only turn their attention one way, - downwvardcl and hellward.  Yet the very next day some
of the members of that social circle went to the
office of the Boston Chief of Police and urged himi
to accept money in aid of the projected movemeit
toward the reformation of the one hundred nightwalkers arrested on the previous evening.  "How
221
r 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
very, very sad," said those philanthropists, "that
so many beautiful and healthy women should be
brought to the dock of a Boston court for crime!"
No one will doubt the benevolent intentions of
those gentlemen, nor their desire to see the reformation of those unfortunate fallen women; but
when we consider that the effect of their example
in paying servant-g,irls, factory-girls, or shop-girls
small wages had so reduced the income of these
girls while in other men's employ, that they
adopted this life to avoid more acute suffering, it
seems a rather tardy charity after all. It may be
that some of the girls were once the employees of
these same philanthlropists.
A manufactuirer of ready-made clothing in Clhicago gave eight thousand dollars toward the construction of a house of worship, and then cut down
the price formerly paid for making garments.  Fortunately for the shop-girls, there is a scarcity of
their material in the West, and the larger part of the
employees left the shop for other situations.   But,
according to the testimony before a coroner's jury,
there were a few whose necessities were so pressing that they dared not risk the loss of employment, even for one day, and who, after working
along for two or three months, abandoned their
work, - eight seeking a house of ill-fame and two
committing suicide.
A gentleman and lady quarrelled, one Sunday
222
Or 
CURIOUS GENEROSITY.
morning, with the milkman, who  had to rise at
midnight in order to supply his customers, and
who prosecuted his labor with unfailing prompt.
ness ill cold, rain, or heat.   The  cause of the
trouble was a difference of eight cents between the
account of the mistress and that of the milkman.
The milkman lost the eight cents and went on his
way, while the stingy couple prepared for church.
That day  contributions  were requested for the
education of the negroes, and this same couple
threw each a ten-dollar bill into the treasury-box.
A gentleman of great literary talent and reputation wished for a copyist.  I recommended to
him a poor orphan-girl, who had succeeded in graduating at the Normal School.  She was an excellent writer and very intelligent, and was without
doubt a first-class copyist, while the gentleman's
handwriting was so difficult to read that correspondents cut out the autographs from his letters
and pasted them on the returning envelopes because they could not make out the  name.  He
kept the girl at work copying his letters one day,
and, finding that she had done all that he desired
for the time, he gave her a one-dollar bill, and said
that as he had no change and she was so poor she
mighlt keep the whole.  (Wonderful generosity!) A
few weeks after another lady, who was also an orphan, but a relative of an aristocratic family, was
sent to him for work or assistance. He said that he
223 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
had no work fitted for the hands of "such as she,"
but be would give her ten dollars, and promise
to furnish more if she should need it.  Both the
applicants were equally needy. One, because she
performed a hard day's work, obtained one dollar as
her wages; while the other as a mendicant aristocrat received ten dollars as "a charity."
Ladies in New York, Philadelphia, and some of
the other large cities have certain days on which
they give charities, and some have as large a liumber as twenty to whom they give fifty or seventyfive cents per week.  Perhaps the lady of the
house knows of other parties living in the street
who give other stipulated sums to the same beggars,
so that the mendicants receive from two and a half
to five dollars per week.  Meanwhile the maid who
works hard all day in the nursery or chambers,
dresses the mistress for an evening party, and sits
up until one o'clock to assist her to disrobe, receives
$2.50 a week. The mistresses are so anxious that
these maids shall earn their wages that they never
leave the house without studying out sonme method
for keeping the maids busy during their absence.
These same ladies will pay two dollars a week for
the board of a poodle-dog,, and discharge a servant
during the summer trip into the country because
there is but " little for a servant to do for several
weeks."
I remember a public dinner which was given in
224 
DINNER FOR LITTLE BEGGARS.
thle "Cradle of Liberty" to the poor children of
Boston.  Long draped tables, vases of bouquets,
flags and mottoes, graced the hall, and a feast fit
for a king  was spread around the little ragged,
dirty gamins of that city.   Of course they enjoyed it, and were happy. They had never seen
anything to compare with it in their short lives,
and gave themselves into the hands of the benevolent ladies with gratitude and cheerfulness. I
saw them file into the hall, and march down beside
the tables. There were many bright faces, many
a flashing eye, and many a highll forehead.  But, on
the same plane of unnatural equality on which
they dwelt without, those poor children stood side
by side with the foolish and dull-headed denizens
of their damp alleys; eating their turkey, pastry,
fruit, and sweetmeats with awkward greediness.
Speeches were  made  to the children, urging
them to be thankful for such a magnificent banquet, and filling their ears with professions of
friendship. At the close of the feast each child
was given a pair of shoes, or some other useful article of dress, and sent back to his musty and cheerless home, to be forgotten as soon as the press which
lauded the benevolent projectors had distributed
its last edition; yea, they were at once forgotten
by all in the "upper" world except by the generous contributors, who rested in the proud satisfaction of having made two thousand children happy.
1~0$                ~o
225
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Thoughtful ones studied over the problem as
from time to time they recalled the circumstances,
and were not a little puzzled with the question,
whether that dinner was a charity or in any way
a kindness.  It appears to me  that  anything
which does not alleviate the condition of the poor,
while it serves to make them very discontented
with their lot, is a curse rather than a blessing.
After partakilng of such luxuries there would be
but a small appetite for the cold, mouldy crust of
bread; and after visiting such a beautiful place
and receiving suchl marked attention, their cold,
dark homes would be more cheerless and uncomfortable than ever. It is like D)ead Sea fruit to
the eyes of the famishing wanderer; cheering and
strengthening him for a moment, only to leave
him disappointed  and disconsolate when he attempts to pluck it.  It serves also to show how
wide is the gulf between them and plenty, making them discontented, envious, and criminally
desperate.
Without the least doubt, some of the subscribers to that dinner-fund were the next day rebuking some of the childish recipients of their benevolence for charging one or two cents more than
the usual price for blacking boots, or for trying to
sell them the daily paper.
226
M- 
HOMES.
IV.
THE large number of "Homes" which are being
established in all our large cities show that the
great public has a conscience, and that it so far
repents of its misdeeds as to adopt this method of
returning to the rightful owners some of its ill-gotten gains.  There are "Homes" for "Drunkards,"
"Consumptives," "Old Ladies," "Old Men," "Colored Mien," "Reformed Women," "Little Wanderers," "Bootblacks," "Newsboys," "Worn-out Servant-Girls," "Indigent Hack-drivers," "SewingGirls," and "Poorlhouses," withl hospitals for the
afflicted poor, and asylums for the blind, the insane,
and the crippled. These institutions are usually
endowed by some benevolent or "charitable "man,
who gives a large sum of money toward the immortalization of his little name.  In these "Homes"
no sufferer is admitted as a matter of right, but all
are constantly, and oftentimes offensively, reminded
of their dependence. One of the most absurd requests ever made was the petition of an old man
to be admitted into an institution which his penurious employer had founded, and where the petitioner wished to be treated "like a proprietor."
Yet his earnings for twenty years, except the
small percentage necessary to pay his temporary
expenses, had been put into that institution by his
employer.
227
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRPCY.
There can be no doubt that these institutions
a     re of vast importance t   o the   welfare of society in
its                  present condition, and  that these gifts, no matter what the'motive may be that influences the
giver, are a blessing to such unfortunate persons
as cannot otherwise obtain from the world their
just dues.
Considering  these " Homes" a necessity, then,
so long as law-makers are bought, and votes are
quoted in the political market like stocks in the
marts of finance, the only reform in which the
few justly disposed can directly engage is that of
reorganizing these "Homes" upon  the principle
that the poor should not be treated as suppliants,
but should be entitled to the same consideration
and the samue privileges which would be conceded
to a wealthy grandfather  whlo, although  living
upon his own money, has become too old to take
proper care of himself.
A review of some of the methods now pursued
in the management of "Homes" will show the
necessity of reform and the difficulties which reformers will be obliged to encounter.
First: the charity of the trustees or managing
boards begins too far up the scale.   In many cases
which have been brought to my notice, the managers have selected superintendents for these institutions whose only qualification for the position
lay in their unfitness for anything else. Political
228 
REGULATION OF " HIOMES."
blocklheads, dozy bankrupts, or broklen-down spendthrifts are caught up and given the position of all
overseer out of "charity," while the invalids and
needy poor are for the same reason placed under
an  incompetent's  care.   Such  superintendents
could not, if they would, make the place a come
for the inmates, and are perpetually annoying
them with his careless, senseless, or wilful disregard of their tastes and desires.
Even in those institutions where the most able
overseers are found there will be discontent arising from the sense of dependence and the wounded
pride which must be felt by every worthy recipient of charity.
Second: the openings and anniversaries are celebrated with too much pomp and ceremony.  When
a " Home" has been prepared for the reception of
inmates, there is a "dedication" to which all the
great men are invited, and where, with bands of
music, feasting, speeches, and perhaps cannon, the
event is ushered in with the greatest show of enthusiasm. The newspapers herald the birth of the
new institution, ministers preach upon it, and with
loud-mouthed  acclamations  the world  insanely
hails it as an evidence of human progress.
With each anniversary the celebration is repeated.  Orators tell the inmates how poor they
are, and how kind are the donors, while fashionable ladies flaunt their insulting silks in the faces
229 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
of the dependants, or shake their perfumed lace
handkerchiefs at the prison-like procession of pau
pers.
VWhen visitors come there is a feast and a great
parade; and this occurs often, for men strangely
pride themselves on the number of paupers, drunkards, and cripples they have in the community,
and invite every influential stranger to make these
"tHomes" a visit. On such occasions the unfortunate inmates are drawn up for inspection, while
curious eyes note their movements just as children
watch elephants in a show of wild animals.
Third: there should be no public meetings of
the board of directors and no published rules.
The board of directors of a "IHome" now meet in
some hall or at some fashionable hotel, and there,
in the presence of the reporters for the press and
such other spectators as choose to attend, formally
vote that the inmates of their institution "shall
not be out evenings, or that some other new regulation shall be adopted. All the people for many
miles around know of the "resolves" of that body
through the press, and charity in the public estiniation becomes a matter of business to be regulated, resolved, debated, voted, possess certain bylaws and humiliating rules.  The wishes of the
board having been formally communicated to the
overseer, he procures a "regulation card," on which
the rules are plainly printed, and affixes it to the
230 
OVEItSEEING THIE POOR.
posts, doors, corners, and gates.  "Thus far shalt
thou go and no farther" is suggested by them;
and even though they be the most simple rules,
the printing and posting of them destroys every
sense of contentment and takes away every kome
feeling which might have existed before.  It is no
charity to cast the needy into prison
V.
A FEW examples may serve to illustrate this
subject further. I once knew a worthy deacon
who was so noted for his charity and sympathy
that he was made an overseer of the poor, with
funds at his disposal and a large salary for himself.
His whole business was confined to the alleviation
of suffering among the poor.  It so happened that
hlie owned a tenement in which resided an old lady
who was a very industrious, honest woman.*  He
came to the conclusion that the rent was too small,
and notified the lady of the advance.  To this she
protested, saying that she could not afford to pay it
in her reduced circumstances; and finally told him
that she should move out. At this the overseer
of the poor began to reason with her, and after
estimating the cost of removing the coal which was
just broughlt in, and of moving her furniture, lhe
showed that the outlay would more than balance
* Mrs. Parboly. See page 116.
231
w 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
the difference between his rent and that of his
neighbor.  This convinced her and she kept the
tenement, although she was well aware that the
owner cunningly waited until the winter's supply
of coal was in the cellar, and then took advantage
of her situation to get more rent for his tenement
than other men  received.  This man was himself
an "institution," and showed the tendency of the
vwhlole system. He could give in charity, but oppressed his tenants to obtain the money.
The poorhouse system in the United States,
which creates an office worth from $1,000 to $2,000
a year, and is the cause of endless political squabbles, is sufficiently well known to the public. All
those cases where paupers have died from the effects of abuse, where they have been buried without coffins or clothing because the grave was all
that the town appropriation - five dollars for
funeral expenses,- would furnish, and the enormous bills of expense entered and paid each year
for comforts which the paupers never received are
read about and commented upon nearly every day.
Hence I pass over that in silence.
Two years ago two benevolent ladies of wealth,
having an earnest and honest desire to'contribute
toward some charitable object, adopted this most
excellent plan. A large house was purchased and
fitted up with exquisite taste and at considerable
expense, having,, carpets, gas-lights, a piano, and all
232
r-^  
CO-OPERATIVE BOARDING-HIOUSE.
the recent improvements in the way of heating and
cooking.   They then secured a matron who  was
well known to the projectors as a kind and efficient
housekeeper, and gave her the entire control of
the house.
To this house girls were invited to come and
board upon the co-operative plan, each paying her
share of the expenses at the end of each week. They
were all shlop-girls, whose earnings were small, and
who could not find a comfortable boarding-house
the price of which was within their means.  By the
assistance of the ladies, who were not   and I think
are not -  known to the boarders, the provisions
were purchased at the wholesale prices, and the
cost of living very much reduced.  In this way
poor girls secured a boarding-place at a cheap rate,
and had a home in which they were all proprietors
to a certain extent, and where they could receive
their company and do their work with the same
ease and freedom that they would find in their
own father's house.  Even the name of a boardinghouse was discarded, and the girls led to regard the
place as their private residence. No one, passing
the door of that modest mansion, would ever dream
that poor sewinlg-girls were able to occupy it, or
that more than a singole quiet family resided there.
Here was true charity.   By it no laziness or improvidence was encouraged, while the assistance
which it gave to those who partook of its benefits
233 
NATURE' S ARISTOCRACY.
prevented poverty and obviated the necessity of a
shameful life, making  the girls cheerful, healthy,
and permanently virtuous.
One glaring example of the mismanagement of
a "Home" attracted my personal attention a few
years since, and as it shows the hardships to which
the natural aristocrats of the world are subjected
through the jealous rivalry of the usurping line of
money-kings, I feel that it should be inserted
here. During the war with the Southern States
there were established in the cities of the North
a class of institutions called "Soldiers' Homes."
In that  movement  the city of Boston  was a
leader. RPev. Phineas Stowe, the "sailors' friend,"
with the assistance of a number  of benevolent
ladies,   women  being considered of little consequence, the press is not supposed to give their
names,-  started the enterprise of establishing a
"Home" where wounded soldiers would receive the
best of care and more skilled medical attendance
than they would have at their own homes.  This
project did not meet with much favor until the
attention of the city authorities was called to it,
through negotiations for a building which the city
owned and  which Mr. Stowe wished to secure.
The city council then voted to give. the use of the
building for the purpose, and as their proceedings
were all published the attention of the public was
called to it. At the same time the managers were
234
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SOLDIERS' HOMES.
obliged to ask for more assistance, owing to the
large number of applications comning in from deserving soldiers.
The soldiers were very popular then; and the
politicians, seeing that there was a chance to ride
into office upon that hobby, slyly and surely undermined the influence of the originators, at the
same time squeezing themselves into office.   A
board of directors, an executive committee, a long
list of vice-presidents, tooether with numerous officials, were elected, or rather proclaimed, to have
control of this " Home."  This made it at once a
great political machine, and with marvellous zeal
the aspirants for office kept tugging away at the
ponderous crank.  The building was one of the finest mansions in an aristocratic portion of the city,
and its dedication was one of the most important
events of the day. Great men, great speeches,
great guns, great bands of music, and great crowds.
It is said the enthusiasm was so great that the
soldiers present who had wounds wept for joy,
while those who had none wept for shame. However  that may  be, the  wounded soldiers were
praised, applauded, and feasted until they thought
the "whole world had gone crazy."  I do not say
that it was anything more than they deserved, but
it was a love far too hot to retain its fervor.
In the selection of a superintendent the board
of managers were rather unfortunate. For the first
235 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
one did not fulfil either his own or his friends expectations, while the second was discharged for some
fault known to the board. It happened that one of
the active workers in this enterprise had a friend
who was an "old chum " in the stage-driving business. The claims of this "old chum" were successfully advocated before the managers, and the professional stage-driver installed as third superintendent.
Niow the two "churms" were naturally very unlike.
The patriotic member of the committee was a natural aristocrat, and fought his claim to nobility with
such perseverance that he had risen from a stag,edriver to be one of the most respected financiers
and railroad managers in the country.   He was
an able, generous mail, and was looking forward
with reasonable hope to a seat in Congress. But
the other was a man who was said to have reached
his level as a stage-driver; and one who was as
much out of place above his position as others are
below it. He was most singularly unfitted for the
position, from the fact thlat his sympathies were
all against the cause for which the soldiers fought,
and he could have nothing in common with them.
WVhat they respected he despised, and what they
loved he hlated.
As the State had now come in with its assistance,* he was given a salary of $ 1,300 a year for
himself and family, besides their expenses, and had
* Appropriation of $ 20, 000.
236 
POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENTS.
the entire control of the establishment.   Keeping
the expenses down as low as he could and avoid
any loud complaints, he manag(ed to save five hundred dollars more during the year than his predecessor had done, and that amount was generously
added to his salary.  Thle second year, "the State
gave another appropriation," and
"All went merry as a marriage-bell."
(This quotation applies to the superintendent and
his political supporters,- not by any means to the
soldiers.) In the spring, of 1867 there were sixteen of the maimed soldiers in the "Home" who
had so far recovered as to desire a change. They
wished to go out into the world and earn their own
living. To these broken and scarred young men
the "Homne" offered no inducements, nor made
any provision for their future livelihood. It had
accomplished much as an alleviator of bodily suffering, but it was to leave those who caine under its
roof as destitute when they left it as they were
when they arrived.   Under such  circumstances,
those who had recovered sufficiently were anxious
about their future.
By the assistance of friends six of them secured
scholarships in the New  England Conservatory of
Music, of which Mr. Tourje'e was the director, and
in which their tuition was reduced to half price.
Ten of them were admitted gratis into the classes
of G. A. Sawyer's Commercial College, and. began
their studies with the most lively zeal.
237 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
WINen their purpose became known, however, the
superintendent took a sudden dislike to themin, and
seemed to regard their efforts to get an education
as a personal insult to him, and endeavored,
through the application of the State law, excluding
from the " Home" such as received State aid or
government pension, to expel these students. But
the Governor of the State, to whom the law gave the
power to send twenty-five soldiers to the " Home,"
delegated these sixteen, and it was supposed that
they would be allowed to board there, and receive
medical aid during their course of instruction.
But the superintendent had made up his mind
that they should be driven out before the course
was complete, and for reasons that cannot be explained, by reference to any laudable motive, began
to insult them, by taunting and otherwise annoying them.  He called them" beggars," and "greedy
livers upon charity," or words to that effect, and
spared no pains to shame them into submission.
But they had begun a work upon which all their
hopes of life depended, and with the counsel of
friends, they determined to stay until they could
go out free men,- not beggars.
I will not record in detail the actions of that
superintendent, as they involve others in his disgrace; but so determined was hlie that those young
men  should not have the education that they
desired, that he pulled all the political wires at his
238 
ILL-TREATMENT OF PATRIOTS.
command, and with other secret means, secured
the alliance of a few prominent politicians, who
promised to sustain him  in whatever he should
undertake to do. So, on the plea of insubordination, he ordered the boys to leave the " Home," and
on their refusal to go without an order from the
Governor, at whose request they were there, he
called in a posse of police to enforce his orders.
Then, without resistance, and after one little fellow
had said to the police-sergeant, "We  have been
soldiers, and know our duty; we will not make
any disturbance," they were taken to the stationhouse, and stayed in that receptacle for drunkards
and vagrants during the night.  Strangie spectacle!
Wounded patriots, with one leg or one arm, or
otherwise maimed, quartered in a jail in the libertyloving city of Boston for no offence but that of
attempting lawfully and peacefully to get sufficient
education to earn their own livelihood!
Then the friends of the soldiers, to some of
whom  the superintendent of the " Home"  had
often applied the epithet of "common scrub-girls,"
undertook to do what the State Institution, without a political battle, would not do. One wealthy
lady, whose goodness cannot be too highly praised,
took four of the boys into her house and treated
them as her own sons, while they pursued their
studies.
The whole number fulfilled the expectations of
239 
NATURE'S ARISTOCPRACY.
their warmest friends, and secured good positions
when they left the schools.  To-day every one of
them is making his mark in his chosen profession, and I expect to live long enough to see some
of them among the greatest and most influential
business men of that city.
Meanwhile, the " Home" gradually falling into
disrepute, and unable to obtain a State appropriation for the impostors and beggars whom it harbored
under the pretence that they were soldiers, closed
its career in silence and disgrace; having an end
sadly in contrast with its brilliant beginning.
Would that I might record the end of every other
institution of the kind which, for political power,
administers temporary aid, and prevents its inmates from ever becoming useful and ornamental
members of society!
VI.
THERE are three classes of charitable institutions that cannot be denominated " Homes" which
are intimately connected with the subject of this
chapter, namely, educational, moral, and religious
charitable institutions; such as are endowed by
will, or otherwise, in order to admit persons who
could not otherwise afford to attend. That such
institutions are founded for a good purpose, and
accomplish much toward the elevation of mankind,
240
_r-l 
FOUNDING COLLEGES.
there is no doubt; but the question sometimes
arises, "Does  the end justify the means?" and
in lmany cases we are obliged to decide in the
negative. A few months ago one of the wealthiest clothling-merchants in the United States left a
very large sum of money for the purpose of founding a Female College. The conditions in the will,
however, were such that the college could not be
of any use to the present generation. Taking into
consideration the fact that he made his money
from the work of thousands of poor sewing-girls,
lwhose wages were hardly sufficient for daily sustenanlce, it seems quite unjust that the money
which they have earned should be bequeathed to a
college which will benefit neither them nor their
immediate posterity. The sum of the whole matter is this, - the sewing-girls have been made,
with well-earned wages, to endow a college, bearing their employer's name, and in the construction,
regulation, or benefits of which they and theirs
have no voice.
Moral charitable institutions are often termed
"Brotherhoods"; and include such organizations
as the Odd Fellows, Masons, Knights of Pythias,
Grand Army, Knights and Daughters of St. Crispin, and kindred societies. The present structure
of society renders such associations necessary, and
they seem to be the only organizations which start
with the right foundations.  The Odd Fellows and
241
11
p 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Masons instil the principle of natural equality, and
give alms to their suffering brethren as though the
recipients were justly entitled to them, and could
claim them as a matter of right.  Hence the great
popularity and usefulness of those excellent orders.
It has been urged against the Kni,ghts of St.
Crispin, that they were unreasonable in demandingc, the same pay for a poor workman that they
do for a good one.  The persons who make these
objections do not appear to understand that it costs
the poor workman just as much to live as it does
a person who is skilled; and are not willing to
acknowledge that the skilled workman in that
order gets as much less than his value as the unskilled hand receives more.
Every order which has for its fundamental
principle the right of all men to a livelihood, and
the necessity of brotherly love and charity, has
begun at the foundation, and cannot fail to benefit
society.
Charitable religious institutions are, as a general
rule, beneficial in the existing, circumstances, and
no one with an earnest desire for human welfare
would wish them abolished. ]ut to this there is
one prominent exception.  I have no fault to find
with a church as a church; but I make deliberate
war upon the "church kitchens." It is a little
doubtful if the "house of God" is just such an
edifice as it ought to be; when its carpets are too
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CHURCtH " KITCHENS."
rich, its cushions too soft, its music too delicate,
and the preaching too profound for the poor,
coarse-dressed man or woman who strays within
its courts.  But if divines agree that the poor
should take their religion from  a different loaf,
and that the pouring of money into a man's
trousers pockets puts brains into his head, it may
be presumption in me to question their decision.
Yet I venture to assert that the audiences who
attend these "branch chapels," or "church kitchens," and who are provided with that edifice by
the wealthy society, because the church itself is
too nice a place for them to enter, are as capable
of conducting themselves properly, and of appreciating an able sermon, as one half of the giddy
"doug,hheads" who can be seen every Sunday in
their damask-decked front pews.
If there is any sin in the world, those preachers
who pretend to expound  God's word,  knowing
their mental and physical unfitness for it, will
have something to answer for at the judgmentseat. Especially guilty are those who send such
inefficient instruments to do a work which they
well know the minister to be incapable of performing(. It is deliberate wickedness to deal out
mouldy bread from a table which lies heaped with
the best and richest viands of His eternal goodness.
This, however, is done weekly in the "kitchens ";
and, as if the poor in worldly goods needed poor
243 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
preaching and poor religion, a house is built for
that purpose, in which nothing but the poor article
is dealt out.   The influence of these measures
tends strongly to drive away those whose strength
of mind influences their associates, and to disgust
the great mass of the poorer classes with everything connected with religion.
The exhausted and worn laborers, who  enter
the church after a week of unremitting toil, need
stimulus, while they who have lived in ease will
require only plain food for the Sabbath day. The
tired workman needs a more talented man to
preach to him than is required by those who are
fresh.  But church "kitchens," as a rule, have none
of the mental food which the weary can relish,
and are dull, monotonous, prosy, unmeaning, and
soulless.
VII.
IT often happens that the most charitable are
never heard of by the world, while those who
stand between the giver and receiver are the subjects of unstinted praise. I have often been reminded of this, when I have seen a few welldisposed individuals endeavoring  to secure the
funds or "contributions in kind" for some benevolent enterprise.  It is the custom in the city of
Boston to give Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New
Year's dinners to the poor people, and a committee
244 
CHARITABLE MARKETMEN.
of several persons undertake the management on
these occasions.   The first, and often the only
place to which these committees apply is at the
great market around Faneuil Hall.  There, among
those marketmen who rise at three o'clock in the
morning and work until six in the evening, these
committees usually obtain all the contributions
which they desire. Beef, pork, chickens, turkeys,
fish, and oysters, in immense quantities, are always
given, and although there are hundreds of such
dinners during the year, these honest, industrious
marketmen never refuse when they are persuaded
that the cause is a good one. Yet the world seldom hears of their charity; nor do the newspapers applaud their generosity.  On the contrary,
the public is ever complaining that it has to pay
such high prices at the markets, and wonders why
the marketmen do not get rich. This is also the
case with Fultoin'Iarket, in New York, where the
appeals for material aid never cease, and where the
newspapers never tire of praising the collectors of
these gifts for their enterprising charity.
VIII.
I HAVE often wondered why there had been
found no benevolent individual whose interest ill
the horse-car drivers and conductors was such as
to lead to a bequest in their favor. From six
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
o'clock in the morning until midnight they pursue
their wearisome, monotonous task, being more
exhausted after the same number of hours than
are the laborers in the field. Accidents happen to
them, and no one seems to care. They are paid
very poorly, but it attracts no comment; they are
deprived of employment when aged or crippled,
and receive no aid.
Again, another class have been wholly overlooked by the founders of charitable institutions,
namely, the waiter-girls and cooks in the bakeries
and confectionery establishments, who work fifteen
hours a day. At present they form a very respectable portion of the female employees in Philadelphia, Albany, New York, and Boston, receiving
from two to three dollars a week; and yet, like the
female printers, they are not regarded by the public
as entitled to any respect or needing any assistance.
They earn as much more than they receive and
are as often in want as are other laborers, yet none
of their unpaid wages have been returned to them
in "Homes," colleges, or pensions.
It will not be expedient for me to go into an
enumeration of all the classes who "give everything and get nothing," for their name is legion.
The world is full of injustice, and we can hope to
annihilate but a small portion of it. We are, however, under no less obligation to eradicate as much
of it as we can.
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CHAPTER XIII.
NATURAL AND UNNATURAL ARISTOCRATS.
RPepresentatives of Nature. - Who save the Communities. Examples of Nobility. - Names of Prominent American
Aristocrats. -The Darker Side of the Picture. -Anecdotes
of Unnatural Aristocracy. - No Peace with Ill-Gotten Gains.
I.
T is refreshing, after long contemplation of vice,
cruelty, and injustice, to turn our eyes for a
time upon the opposite picture, and thoughtfully
ponder upon wisdom, benevolence, and intellectual
greatness. It is inspiring to see, through the
clouds of battle, some portions of the great army
scaling heights and winning victories, though the
beholder may have been already hopelessly defeatpd. Some of Nature's noblemen do win the
battles of life, and are able to reap all the advantages which success vouchsafes; and but for their
presence in the executive departments, the halls
of legislation, the courts of law, the marts of trade,
and the higher social circles, the world would be
wholly lost to righteousness and God.  They are
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
"the salt of the earth," and, sprinkled here and
there through society, they prevent its entire corruption, although in some localities even the
"salt" fails to save it.
These great representatives of Nature's royal
family show by their ability and goodness what
might be expected of all their relations on the side
of genius, could the rightful claims of all be successfully defended.   Those men and women  to
whom Nature has given that mental momentum
called genius, as a signet of her favor, have given
to the world all its civilization, all its enlightenment, and everything of value which it possesses.
In all great emergencies, when nations are in danger, there is no inquiry for a moneyed or family
aristocracy, no desire. for persons whom circumstances have made, but for men in whose souls
there is natural greatness. It matters not from
what rank or station - whether a "cow ranch"
or a palace - provided they are inspired with the
zeal, courage, and discernment necessary to manage
the helm. Such men almost without exception
appear on the field unexpectedly.
Mankind will not go to Nature and learn of her;
so they disregard the constantly recurring examples, and look for leadership first in other aristocracies and in the highest social circles of mankind.
But it is seldom that the man for great emergencies is to be found there. He is stowed away in
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NATURE'S REPRESENTATIVES.
some sly and humble corner, - Nature knows
where, -and when the occasion calls he pops into
notice like' the puppets in Punch and Judy. Sometimes people laulgh, and think that he is a real
puppet because of his antecedents; but time and
mighty events show them their mistake.
It is no proof, however, that because the number
of successful ones is so small that the number
of great men and women is also small. For who
knows how many Cromwells, Washingtons, Websters, are held in reserve for occasions which never
come, for revolutions which do not occur.  When
from an army of a million there springs one leader
able to insure victory, it is no proof that there are
not a thousand others equally capable, of whom
the world never hears. So in civil life there are
men of science who makle no discoveries, men of
letters who write no masterpieces, men of financial
ability who have no money, benevolent men and
women who have nothing to give, women of culture,
oratorical power, statesmanship, and judgment who
never leave the kitchen, -all for the lack of a
favorable opportunity to use the tallents which
God has given them.  Like the great marble-quarry
which is full of beautiful statues and imposing
monuments, it can be of no use to the world until
the layers of earth are removed, the stone broken,
and the chisel applied. Although thousands lie
unnoticed below, let us be thankful that any of the
11*
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
inspiring statues have seen the light; and may the
gratification which we feel while gazing on those
already quarried and utilized make us the more
zealous in the work of exhuming others!
II.
A FEW months ago a poor girl who had no home,
and had lost her situation as a seamstress, applied
to the great natural orator whose name is connected with so many modern reforms, and requested
him to give her some assistance. He was generous
enioug,h to give her money, but with it he gave such
words of comfort and such useful advice that she
went away from his door feeling as if he had given
her a fortune. She afterwards said to me: "0, I
cannot express my  gratitude to that great man,
not for the money he gave me, but for the directions which he said would ever prevent my being
in want again! I can work and suffer cheerfully
now, for I see that there is hope even for me."
A factory-girl called upon the family of the
well-known Senator and General from Massachusetts on a matter of business, and she was received
with all those courtesies which mark the character
of every noble nian or woman. But there was a
lady visitor at the house, whose aristocracy was
founded entirely upon the dollar, and as she came
sweeping into the parlor, and noticed the presence
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THE TRUE SPIRIT.
of the humble factory-operative, she curled her
lips and scowled with contempt; at the same
time, gatheringl up her rich silks and haughtily
mrarchin~ from the room.
I shall not soon forget the look of pity which
came upon the face of the kind-hearted wife of
that great man as she gazed after the retreating
bubble of conceited pride. Neither shall I cease
to rehearse to myself those burning, cutting words
of rebuke which came from the good woman's
lips when the haughty heir of a dastard's fortune
appeared at the tea-table: "'The poor are better than the proud, the industrious better than
the idle, the producer is of more importance than
the spendthrift, and a woman in calico is as
great in the sight of God as she that trails her
laces and silks."
In Pittsburg, Penn., in 1850, there was a wealthy
banker who had retired from an active life in New
York, and who seemed at that time wholly resigned
to a life of quiet, unostentatious pleasure. Every
afternoon he walked through the low streets of the
city among the families of the iron-workers, and
would step in at this door and that to inquire after
the welfare of the tenants. None of them ever
knew where he lived or what his station in life
until after his death, although the greater part of
his time during the last years of his life was spent
among those poor people. He always had money
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
to relieve real suffering and shrewdness to detect
an impostor, and his face became as dear to the
poor denizens of hovels as it was to his own
family. Every day, as the hour arrived when
he usually made his appearance, the women
would put on their best dresses, carefully sweep
the rooms, and send the impatient children out
upon the door-steps to welcome the visitor with
shouts and clapping of hands. Some of these
children grew up under his fatherly care, and
many were assisted by him in obtaining an education or in learning a trade who are now influential members of society. He regarded the
poor of a certain street as his especial charge,
and his contributions, advice, remonstrances, and
daily presence changed the appearance of the entire street. It became clean and tidy, the children more neatly dressed, the faces of men and
women were more  cheerful, and the police-officers whose beats crossed that street declared, at
his death, that after his charitable visits became
regular they had not been obliged to make a single arrest among the inhabitants of that particular
locality.
He was a prince; and the good he accomplished
will never cease to affect society. He raised the
fallen, cured the sick, educated the ignorant,
cheered the downcast,  and gave to the needy.
What more could man do?
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NATURE'S NOBLEMEN
There are a few nobles toward whom the eyes
of humanity now turn, who, although they have
doubtless sometimes succumbed to avarice and
condescended to occasional injustice, have well
proven their right to the positions which they
hold.   Among the living representatives of this
class in our land will be found General Benj.
F. Butler, as a defender of the factory-girls; General Henry Wilson, as a supporter of workingnmen's
rights; General 0. O. Howard, as the advocate of
freedmen's education; Theodore Tilton, as an earnest, though inconsiderate advocate of woman's suffrage; Henry Ward Beecher, as a liberal thinker
and chliampion of free speech; Hon. William H.
Seward, as a statesman; George Peabody, as a friend
of humanity; Longfellow, Whittier, and William
Cullen Bryant, as poets; General N. P. Banks, as
a successful workingman; General U. S. Grant,
as a soldier; and Horace Greeley, as an editor.
To these might be added a large number of
"lesser lights"; but the communities in which
they reside know them, and will be reminded
of them when these pages are read. Upon such
men no war is made.  They have a "divine right"
to the thrones they occupy, as they seem to
have been made for the express purpose of filling the influential stations in which we now find
them.
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STATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
IlL.
HISTORIANS do not tire of praising Cincinnatus,
the Roman warrior and statesman, who saved his
country, and, when his task was done, left every
office to work in his garden. Yet there are men
in this day who make the same sacrifices, and who
leave public circles from which it is as difficult to
break away now as in the days of that illustrious
Roman. The son of a very wealthy family, having
acquired a complete college education and inherited
his immense fortune, had the good sense to see
that his nature was such that he could not remain
in the aristocratic circles of Boston and be happy.
There was nothing in common between him and
his frivolous, fastidious associates, and he determined to leave the mansion and the countingrooms for a home upon a farm.  In order to fit
himself thoroughly for his chosen work he went
into the interior of Vermont, and hired out to an
old farmer for a year. There, without making
known his great wealth, wearing the coarse frock,
cowhide boots, old hat, and coarse flannel in
which his co-laborers dressed, he diligently pursued
his laborious search for practical knowledge.  He
ploughed and sowed, hoed and trained, cut the hay
and gathered it into the barn, entered the grainfield to reap, dug potatoes, cut down the corn,
cared for the horses and cows in winter, with not
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THE RICH FARMERS.
a single murmur or a sign of shirking in any way
his share of the hardest and coarsest duties of the
farm.
When his year of labor was done, and he consideredc himself well acquainted with all the duties
necessary to carry on a large farm, he purchased
one in the interior of Massachusetts, married a
well-educated, but penniless orphan-girl, and settled
down to a peaceful farmer's life. To-day he can
be found on his farm, among a number of well-paid
and happy  laborers, following  perseveringly his
favorite avocation, although his old companions
are flying hither and thither like moths in  the
halls of city trade, attracted by this glitter and then
by that, and being scorched by all.
I recall a young woman of great wealth, and
who by her relationships was entitled to the highest place in the fashionable society of the great
city.  Back in the country there was a little vil        -
lage where she loved to go, and where she took
the greatest pleasure in visiting the farm-houses,
riding in carts, and caring for a favorite pony. She
loved to be among the laboring people, and with
the farmer, the blacksmith, or the carpenter she
felt equally at home.   The free air, the hills,
the  mountain  streams, the  cattle, the  schoolchildren, the fruit, and the grain all had a charm
for her which she could not find in the city.
Nevertheless she was ever the brightest one of
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NI,ATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
her circle when she appeared in fashionable life;
and had such an attractive, winning manner as
to command the attention and respect of every
one.
When she had come to the conclusion that she
must marry and adopt some settled plan for life,
it was indeed a hard question to decide,-  the
country or the city.  But the betrothed, the relatives, the property were all in the city, and she
reluctantly turned back to the pavements and sidewalks. She wept when she bade the old scenes
farewell with which she had spent so many pleasant days, and sobbed as she glanced in at the
forge of the blacksmith where her pony had so
often been shod.
After marriage she and her husband went to
England, and while there they were  made the
guests of an English lord.  It happened one day
that there was an agricultural show near the lord's
residence, and at her request the party attended
the exercises. The farmers were ploughing when
the titled party entered the grounds; and to the
astonishment of the people, and especially of the
lord, this lady took a plough and held it across the
field, turning the cleanest and neatest furrow of all
the competitors.
Fitted by nature for a farmer's wife, happiest
among rural scenes and among country people, she
still shines on in the city,- a dutiful wife, a kind
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THREE NATURAL ARISTOCRATS.
mother, and a discontented member of fashionable
aristocracy.
I cannot leave the subject of true aristocracy
without making reference to three examples of
natural nobility among those who have gone to
their graves. VWould that I could refer to all, and
speak the thankfulness which I feel toward every
one who has done himself and his nation honor.
But the three to whom I refer were persons who
came within the narrow borders of my acquaintance, and of them I may be better able to speak.
Theodore Parker, Starr King, and Anson Burlingame were each of Nature's own line, and to this
were added all of the graces and mental ornaments
which culture and varied experience can produce.
Theodore Parker in his early life, while picking
berries to purchase his first Latin Grammar, and
working at odd jobs to obtain the rudiments of
an education, -afterwards one of the most comprehensive and most thoroulgh, — showed unmistakable evidence of his natural ability. But it
was in his later years, when he had conquered
himself and undertaken to defend every injured
class, that his talents showed the brightest.  Then,
while defencding, the secretion of Burns, the negro
fugitive, in 1854; while saying stout words for
the poor working,-women of Boston, originating
effective schemes for the relief of the poor, and
bravely defying any and every law which con
Q
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Mr 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
flitted with God's abiding decrees, he exhibited a
greatness of soul and a goodness of heart unequalled in the ranks of his Own time.
Of Starr King, who hesitated not at any personal sacrifice where the welfare of mankind was
concerned, and who seemed inspired with new and
fresh thoughts rising with each occasion, I cannot
speak too feelingly. He was your friend, my
friend, and everybody's friend; and with a mind
seemingly as broad as his heart was large, he lived
and died in the service of his God and his fellowmell.
Of Anson Burlingame, who used to sit in his
law-office and in youthful weakness defy the Whig
Party, who was one of the first to defend the slaves,
and at the same time the most able defender of
New England industry that the country found, I
can only add my word to the acclaim of millions.
He was a workingman in a twofold sense, and
while the world criticised, blamed, and hindered,
he still believed in his mission and in his own
ability to perform all that was given him to do.
He rose above the occasion, reached into the future, and, grasping pillars which the short-sighted
mnen of the day could not see, he drew himself so
far forward as to be the leader of nations.
To these three natural aristocrats, who gained
the places they deserved, and by good works proved
their title to nobility, I would direct the attention
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THE FALL AND ITS CAUSE.
of my readers, that the world may see and know
what it is losing by preventing the advance of
others like them.
IV.
IT is a great leap from the men of whom I have
just spoken to those who must now be introduced; yet without the examples the impression
might not be made nor the inferences drawn, for
which this book is written. Unnatural aristocrats!
There are thousands of whom I might speak, but
a few shall suffice, and they shall be only such as
are known to me.
A wealthy manufacturer of Massachusetts, with
an earnest and honest desire to make a great man
of his son, took just the course with his boy that
would make him anything but what the father
wished.   Instead of putting him into practical
life and utilizing the little natural talent which
the boy possessed, he kept him in school or at
watering,-places for several years, after which he
sent him to Europe to get a "finished education."
But the father died, and the son was left an heir
to an immense amount of property. The young
man's mother was less careful in the use of her
influence upon him than his father had been, so
that he became a good-for-nothing aristocrat of the
unnatural order.
When he became twenty-one years of age, his
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2NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
birthday was celebrated with a brilliant and costly
display, fit for a state ball in honor of the Queen.
It was whispered about in the aristocratic circles *
long before the day came for the ball, and with
much gossip and impatience the residents in the
"fashionable quarter" awaited the invitations. The
great mansion in which the young man resided
was not large enough to accommodate the guests,
and would not admit of a favorable display of the
waste which it was proposed to make; so a large
and well-furnished hall, with its anterooms, &c.
was engaged.
Soon the costly cards were ordered from the
engravers, displayed on silver plates, handled  by
delicate fingers, scrutinized by enraptured eyes,
while the whole aristocratic world stood on tiptoe
looking over the receivers' shoulder. How many
disappointed ones! Aristocracy shed more tears
over the non-reception of those cards than it ever
did over the.woes of humanity. Never was there
such a ft'ore, never such a party, never such
exhibitions of nonsense!
The favored ones at once set about the arrangement of their toilets, and the trade in laces, costly
silks, diamonds, and rubies received a marked impetus for several weeks.  Fashionable dressmakers
for once received their dues (not the work-girls), and
there was a little chance for profits. Toilets were
* New York.
260 
THE FASHIONABLE PARTY.
arranged for that occasion costing from ten thousand to forty thousand dollars, while the demand
for new carriages, stylish livery, perfumery, and
-otuge was even greater than that for dresses.  It
was to be -  and was -  the most costly party ever
given in the city. Ten thousand dollars' worth of
flowers were used in the decoration of the hall,
where costly fountains were made to play in sweet
arbors and curious lamps to swing in floral archways. A paradise it was; and but for the contrast
between the pure flowers and the hearts of the
guests, it would have been a heavenly place. What
a gorgeous sig,ht! Millions of dollars displayed in
a single evening in a single hall.   No one cared
about faces, no one thought of intellects, as brains
and nctitrcal personal beauty were at a discount,
while money for the time was worshipped. How
much wine was drunk, how  many deceitful bits
of flattery exchanged, how much envy, how much
hatred, how much pain, felt on that great occasion,
the press which described the dresses did not say.
A few years elapsed, during which the young
hero of that costly party, lauded by all who went
to his reception and hated by all who did not, mar ried a rich wife, engaged in a commission-busi ness, where the goods of the great factories passed
through his hands.   His wealth was said to be
fabulous, and his conceited display was in keep ing with his reputation.
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
"Failed for nearly three millions! "- how these
words stung the ears of stockholders throughout New England! In two years, with two fortunes to support him, he lost all his wealth, and
while he had large sums of money in his hands,or supposed to be in his hands,- the company
with which he was connected failed for nearly three
millions." Were the unfortunate bankrupt the only
person concerned, we might rejoice at the distribution of his money, but in his fall he involved
others, and no sooner did the factory stockholders
know of the failure than they reduced the pay of
the operatives. Twenty thousand of the workmen
"struck," but the discouraged stockholders felt like
losing all or making themselves whole again, and
the strike failed to accomplish anything. The
cause of all this display, loss, and suffering was
an "unnatural aristocrat."
Thirty years ago there was a strike among the
workmen and girls in a New  England factory,
and one of the grave offences afterward laid to
their charge was  the giving of "three cheers
for the frog agent," while the agent of the mill
passed the strikers on his favorite gray pony,
looking neither to the right nor the left. It was
a strange title to give a man of his wealth, and is,
doubtless, meaningless to many who have heard of
that traditional "frog agent." He was a proud, conceited, arrogant man naturally; but a visit which
262
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THE "FROG AGENT."
he made to Europe, on which occasion he associated with the lords, and looked upon the operatives of England from their aristocratic standard,
doubled his respect for himself, and lessened his
regard for working-women at the same ratio. Wvhen
he assumed his duties again as agent, he tried to
enforce a rule which obliged the operatives to go
to the mill without hats or bonnets, in imitation
of the English working-people, who were too poor
to possess such useful portions of ornamental
wearing apparel   He made up his mind at one
time, that it was vulgar for him to have his office
within the sound of the mill-machinery, reminding him constantly of mechanics and their low
occupation; but instead of removing the office, he
ordered all the windows to be closed in the mill.
To this the overseer protested, saying that  the
operatives and the cotton must have air.  The
agent then said that "an inch of air" at each
window would be sufficient, and refused to make
any further concession.
The overseer, failing to execute an order so obnoxious to the girls, the agent himself mnarched
in to execute his own commands. But while he
was pulling the window down in a part of the
mill where a large, muscular New Hampshire
girl was engaged in dressing thread, he attracted
her attention. She started from the machine with
her hands thick with "sizing" starch, and exclaim
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
ing, "What! only all inch of air in a free country!"
pushed him aside, threw up the window with a
slam, and then  marched  the sheepish, starchcovered agent to the stairway, bidding him to consider whose air it was that he was shutting out.
Failing to shut in the noise of the milill, he turned
his attention to the frogs, which were said to disturb his day and night repose with their "vulgar
peeps." One day he cruelly ordered his servant to
kill them all by pouring ill lime; and, to prevent
the use of the spot by immigrating "peepers," he
hired men to drain it.  This, of cpourse, furnished
amusement for the operatives, wi le it increased
that hatred which culminated in a strike and the
agent's removal.
The son of that distinguished agent inherited
much of his father's arrogant spirit; and as his
abilities did not give him much opportunity to
appear in public circles, he displayed his selfishness among the servants and members of his household.   He was  ever afraid that his domestics
would show him soime disrespect, and at the same
time, like his father, had not the courage to resent
an insult even from them. One day he asked the
busy parlor-girl why she did not say "Sir," and
inquired if she meant to disrespect him, or omitted the word from ignorance; to which the impudent girl replied that she did not know or care
which, as she thought too little about him to trouble
herself with titles.
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UNNATURAL ARISTOCRATS.
Hle went to an intelligence office and hired a professional cook, and gave the keeper of the office a
fee of seventy-five cents. But when the cook refused to black his boots, wash the windows, brush
his clothes, and attend to other work, he permitted
her to leave, and went to the intelligence office to
demand a return of the fee. The keeper objected,
saying that she had done her duty, and earned the
money; but as he threatened to use his influence
with the authorities to revoke her license, she gave
back to the rich man the sum of twenty-five cents,
to avoid further injustice. His treatment of this
woman was a key to his policy with regard to the
operatives in those mills where he was represented
by stock, and to such as he is due many of the
strikes which have so often occurred.
V.
I REMEMBER a mayor of a large city, whose
aristocratic pride was of the most arrogant kind,
and to whom it was the greatest hardship to converse with his own employees. Whenever he received a communication from his servants, they
stood at a respectful distance; and if he had a
letter or other missive for them, he always tossed
it to them, and turned hurriedly away.   One of
the severest ordeals through which hlie is said to
have passed was thle official reception as mayor of
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
a military company of which his coachman was
the captain. This wealthy aristocrat, when the
proposition was made to establish a free school for
girls, strenuously opposed the measure, as it would
be placing washerwomen's daughters on the same
plane with those of the wealthy; and he feared
that the education of such girls would only teach
them to "set traps for rich men's sons," and thus
bring misfortune upon the upper classes, whose
sons, he thought, should always marry equals.
I recall two stockholders who visited the cottonfactories in which they were interested, but who
knew nothing of the processes of manufacture.
One of them saw a young man lying down upon
a box in the "steam-room" to rest himself, after
exhaustive labors upon the scalding cloth. The
stockholder passed on to the office and demanded
that the man be discharged.   On  returning with
the agent to point out the man, all were so busy
that the stockholder could not recognize the man,
so, after looking about for some time, he pointed
out a man in another apartment as the person he
saw "shirking," and a hard-working, honest fellow
was discharged by the agent, in spite of undeniable
proof that the man had not been in the steam room that day. The other stockholder saw some
broken threads in a loom, and, noticing at the same
time that the girl was seated on the window-sill,
ordered her discharge; notwithstanding the fact
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HEREDITARY PRIDE.
that the broken threads did no harm, and the oper ative was one of the best in the factory.   They
had money in the mill, and wished to display their
power.
There was a wealthy man living in a New England city whose income was very large, but who
would not allow his wife the funds to provide
the commonest necessaries of life.  The wife tried
to support herself and him by keeping a common boarding-house, and I have seen her ragged
and barefooted, weeping as if her heart would
break, because she owed a bill which she could
not pay, and the cruel creditor had threatened to
present it to her husband. She was an abject
slave, and she was as afraid of his wrath as she
would have been of an angry tiger.   Still he
was a moneyed aristocrat, and was recognized as
a leader in financial circles. He had wealth and
comfort; while his own wife was suffering in
ragged clothicng, with insufficient food, and broken
by body-racking, toil.
The most despisable, useless, aimless of all unnatural aristocracies is that of the hereditary sort.
There does seem to be some little excuse for pride
and display when a person has by his own efforts
obtained wealth or position; but to arrogate to
one's self great importance because he happens to
be the descendant of some one who was noble is
to an American mind one of the silliest things
267 
NATURE' S ARISTOCRACY.
which a man can do.  Yet there are very many
American families who have nothing whatever to
pride themselves on except their descent, who
nevertheless look upon their family as on creatures
too pure and holy to mingle with the "vulgar
herd."
I knew a family - not many years ago - who
claimed to be the descendants of an English duke;
and a person, sitting in their parlors and seeing
their hauthty airs, would be almost persuaded that
they had done something of which they might consistently be proud. They were not the associates
of any other line of aristocracy, and despised selfmade men. The gentleman of the house passed
his time in idleness, taking his breakfast at ten
o'clock, going to the club-house at twelve, and returning at two and a half o'clock for dinner.  At
five o'clock the elegant carriage with the costly
span of horses dressed in gold-mounted harnesses
was broug,ht to the door by the servant, and the
family went out for an hour's drive.  After tea
there was a party, or an opera, or a theatre, at
which the evening could be spent. This gentleman never read anything but his "store-book,"
although his library was filled with the choicest
literary productions. He spared no money in the
decoration of his mansion, and from kitchen to
garret it was furnished in the most costly style.
There was nothing about the appearance of the
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PENURIOUS MAN OF WEALTH.
mansion which would indicate that the owner was
penurious, nor did they think in the club that this
was his character.  He was peculiar.  Anything
that was aristocratic he did generously because
his ancestors did so, but in anything which did
not involve his family pride he was close and
unreasonable. He never took into his employ a
person who had been a domestic in any other aristocratic family, because it is the custom among
people who become suddenly rich to hire old servants to regulate the household and give it such
an appearance as they have seen in other families.
lie took care to oversee everything himself, and
knew and interfered with the business of all the
servants alike. Although he purchased everything
freely that could add to the personal appearance
of any of the family, paid two thousand a year to
the dressmaker, and large sums to the fashionable
hairdresser, yet he seemed to begrudge to all the
family a sufficient supply of food.  Two  little
nieces, who had been left to his care by a wealthy
sister, were decorated with every costly ornament,
and when taken out for a ride, dressed in their velvets or furs, they were pointed out by the people
as a beautiful and happy pair. But by his orders
they were fed on "hash-and-bread" from day to
day, and limited in their supply of that. Many a
time the sweet little sisters went out in state to
ride without sufficient food to keep them from cry
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
ing wiith hunger.  He allowed the servants to have
only a sufficient number of plates and other dishes
to supply the persons actually employed, thus preventing, them from inviting any of their friends
to dine. In this he had the support of his proud
wife; and one day when a small turkey had been
taken from the dinlling-roomn where seven persons
partook of it, to the kitchen where six more
picked at it, she scolded and discharged the cook
for not saving some slices for breakfast. He declared that he could not afford dessert for the little
girls unless they ate more heartily of "hash," and
would not permit a servant to use the starch or
soap without paying for it.  When  a cake was
placed upon the table and a portion remained after
the meal, he would ingeniously mark it to see if the
waiter-girl took a slice.  He purchased a medicinebottle for use as a wine-decanter, in the glass of
which was cast the name of the maker.  When he
had drank his last glass of wine at dinner, he took
his pencil and, noticing the letter which marked
the surface of the wine within, wrote the name of
the letter in his diary, hoping in that way to detect any theft of his wine. It was his nature to
attend to little things, and although he exhibited
considerable mechanical skill and could have been
an excellent carpenter, yet with all his wealth he
could not get above the level of his domestics, nor
occupy his thoughts with more weighty matters
than their concerns.
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THE KITCHEN MILLIONNAIRE.
Another striking example of the natural unfitness
of some men for wealthy positions came under my
observation a few years ago.  A man worth four
millions of dollars, living in a palace, and moving
in the most "aristocratic" society, was nevertheless so narrow-minded and selfish that he felt at
home with none but the humblest people. His
principal occupation was in overseeing the employees about the house, and it was unsafe for the
cook to bake a pie, the parlor-girl to dust the furniture, or the "kitchen colonel" to move a barrel
of provisions, without the millionnaire's consent.
He always made his regular "rounds" from attic
to cellar two or three times during the day and
night, and knew just how many provisions and
howv much coal had been used, how  many pieces
washed, and how often the washerwoman had taken
rest during the forenoon. When the man came
for soap-grease, old umbrellas, old boots, hats, or
rags, the owner of the mansion would attend to the
measurement and sale himself. He would sometimes barter over a pound of soap-ogrease or a pail
of swill until the disgusted applicant would leave
in anger without having accomplished his errand.
One day the milkman came into the kitchen, and,
seeing the finely dressed man attending to the
business, supposed him to be the "kitchen-colonel,"
and addressed him with a familiar "good morning."
The millionnaire stared at the honest milkman, and
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
refused to answer  the salutation.  The milkman
was seriously offended, and when he reached the
gate, on his way out of the yard, he turned about,
and, shaking his fist at the haughty man of wealth,
bade him "come out of the house" and be taught
that a milkman was as good as he, even though he
was "dressed in some old fool's livery"   Whereupon the proprietor rushed out and engaged in a
rough-and-tumble fight with the driver of a milkcart.
Two maiden ladies, who had seen the richest side
of high life, and who lived together in Boston a
few years ago, were the wealthiest and at the same
time the unhappiest human beings to whom my
attention has ever been called. They were so selfish thai they disliked to have their own sisters
visit them when their presence added a farthing to
the usual household expenses. They teased the
cook, who could find plenty of employment on the
same street for four dollars a week, to remain with
them for three. Haughty, overbearing, and stingy,
they made the house as unpleasant as possible for
themselves and all who came within its walls.
While they were cutting down the wages of the
domestics, and begrudging bread-and-butter to their
nearest relatives, the great rooms in the second
story were filled with large trunks and boxes, in
which were stored hundreds of costly dresses, imported laces, corsets, silks, shawls, cloaks, bonnets,
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MISERLY WOMEN.
and many articles of jewelry of immense value.
Five thousand dollars had been paid at one time
in duties on dress goods purchased in Europe for
them. But the accumulation of forty years lay in
those trunks, moulding, rusting, and decaying;
while the waiter-girls  could not afford a calico
dress or a new bonnet of the value of a single inch
of that wasting gold lace which lay above stairs.
The oldest lady became very childish, and in that
state- which was pitiable to behold - she would
wish for joys and comforts which the poor children
only know, and mourned that she was so unfortunate.
After her death the relatives were over three
weeks in exhuming the costly wardrobes and in
distributing the valuable property which had been
miserly buried from sight for so many years. Who
would be an aristocrat
"For fleeting joys like these "?
I remember an old man, who in the days of his
youth and middle age was a severe taskmaster,
a purse-proud associate, and a disagreeable member
of the household. To him there was no greater
insult than that offered by employees who attempted to address him unbidden. He never gave
the least sign of recognition when he met his
domestics on the street, and was a tyrant as far
as it is possible for man to be in this free land.
But with declining years came declining
12*                        R
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
strength. His mental vigor left him, and at last
he became a childish lunatic. While in that condition his former coachman, who, notwithstanding
the abuse he had received, was true to his employer, waited upon him and provided him with
all the little luxuries of which he knew the invalid
to be fond. The old man imagined himself to be
in an institution of some kind, and was ever in
fear of displeasing the overseers. As if in retribution for his own arrogance, he became a prisoner in
his own house, and believed that he must pay the
same homage to those around him that he had
once demanded of others. He imagined the coachman to be his "keeper," and obeyed him with the
greatest show of respect. One day, in conversation
with a visitor, the old man declared himself exceedingly pleased with the institution, but said that he
was troubled about the title which he should give
his "keeper."
" I have called him the Judge," said the invalid,
"and it pleased him some. I called him the General,
and he likes that; but I believe that he is the
most pleased when I address him as the Doctor."
Thus for years that old man lived on, never daring to find fault with his food, or to omit the "Sir"
when he addressed his coachman, or to move an
article of furniture from the place where his keeper
placed it.  In which of these two positions - in
health or in sickness - was this man the most to
be respected?
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INGRATITUDE.
Years ago, a poor boy, possessed of considerable
natural talent, and having by various means obtailed the necessary instruction to be able to enter
college, found himself unable to proceed further
without considerable assistance. At that time he
had attracted the attention of a lady who held
a high position, and who to this day is remembered
for her nobleness and generosity. She interested
herself in his behalf, and, going to a wealthy
neighbor, she told him the boy's history, at the
same time asking for aid. The man took his purse
from his pocket and presented it to the lady,
asking her to take therefrom all she needed.  But
she refused, saying that she "put her hands in
nobody's purse but her own," and requested him to
give such an amount as he deemed best. Whereupon he gave her one hundred dollars, and bade
her come for more on the first occasion.
WVith such assistance the boy passed through
his college-days, and entered the arena of active
life as an essayist and poet. To him to-day the
eyes of millions are directed, and his praises echo
over the whole world.  Yet, alas! not one word
does he say for the poor boys who are now in the
position he once held, nor will he stoop to converse
with the laboring ones around him. That on which
he flatters himself least is his greatest merit, while
that on which he prides himself most is a curse to
him and humanity.
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY
VI.
WVHEN the war between the States began, there
were few stronger sympathizers with the seceding
portion anywhere than were to be found among
the manufacturers of the Nortlh. They were the
last to come into the ranks of government supporters, and but a weak ally when they did "accept
the situation." They gave their moral support to
slavery before the war, and so great was their influence that the leading men of the North followed
for a time wherever they led. Edward Everett,
when called upon to be present at a mass meeting
in Faneuil Hall, where it was proposed to indorse
Charles Sumner and resent the insult given him
by Preston Brooks, refused to lend his influence,
and suddenly concluded that "he had retired from
active life."
While the people became more and more con -
vinced of the evils of slavery, the wealth of the
land became more and more devoted to the perpetuation of that institution. Opposed to the war
to the very last moment, the manufacturing corporation did not give their aid or sympathy until the
mighty uprising of the masses forced them into the
current. Even then there were men who would
neither be coaxed nor driven. One of the largest
factory-owners in the Eastern States declared that
he would disown America- what a calamity,
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MEN AND HORSES.
surely - if war was made, and in 1862 he went
with his family to Europe in disgust, declaring that
he could not live in such a contemptible nation.
The haste with which he returned in 1865 indicated that the nation was only contemptible so
lon, as he made no profits, and was most lovable
indeed when the close of the war sent back the
slaves of wages to his mills.
VII.
WHICH is of the most value,- a man or a horse?
Nearly every reader would answer that question
without hesitation in favor of the man. But such
an answer would rule the speaker out of the society of some unnatural aristocrats. For there are
men in America who love their horses better than
they do mankind, and who would make much
greater sacrifice to save a favorite beast than they
would to save the lives of a dozen human beings.
I once made a visit to the residence of one of this
class of aristocrats, and I was greatly surprised at
the care which was taken of the horses and the
little attention that was paid to humanity.
The building into which I was ushered when
invited to see the horses seemed  to me much
more like a palace than a stable, - a great building, painted and decorated like a dwelling, with
a neatness about it which is not found on every
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
lawn. The first apartment which we entered was
the "reception-room," where costly furniture of
richest parlor description was tastily arranged,
and where an immense number of gold-mounted
harnesses were hung around the walls behind
glass cases. Here guests were received by the
chief groom, and treated to such refreshments as
the occasion might require.
The next apartment was reserved exclusively
for harnesses, and in it could be found samples of
every kind and variety. Here the most fastidious
could find a "rig" suited to his taste.
Then came the carriage hall, where twentythree different styles of carriages were shining in
new coats of paint and varnish. Buggies, sulkies,
barouches, carryalls, market-wagons, chaises, and
miniature coaches were arranged in rows so as
to exhibit the velvet linings, the downy cushions,
and the thousand-dollar robes and lap blankets
of ermine, sable and seal-skin.
In the division of the stable where the horses
were kept we were shown a long hall like those
seen in hotels, with doors leading to the right and
left. These doors opened into the "sleeping apartments," where the horses could be seen standing
in straw to their knees, with no halters upon their
heads, and each occupying a large square apartment by himself. These rooms were ceiled with
the best timber and oiled, over which were fast
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THE CONTRAST.
ened gray, coarse blankets to make the stable tight
and keep the horses from marring the beautiful
finish.
Everything that could be done by a large number of grooms was done for the comfort and health
of the animals, anticipating in nearly everything
the dumb brutes' slightest wish. Having good food
and plenty of it, a nice, warm room, with a soft bed,
close-fitting, blankets, and regular exercise every
day, those beasts might well be considered a happy,
contented class of beings. Two hundred and fifty
horses, varying in value from five hundred to fifteen thousand dollars, were owned and feasted by
a single family. The children purchased candy to
feed their favorite ponies, while the parents stood
by and taught them "how to be kind to beasts."
As we turned away from the building and bade
the good-natured superintendent adieu, the bell of
the factory near by began its peals, notifying the
operatives that the dinner-hour had come. As the
factory and the stable were owned by the same
man, I stopped by the great gateway as the flood
passed by, to watch the manners and see the dress
of the working men and women. Their appearance
was sadly in contrast with that of the horses.
There were bare heads, bare arms, and nearly bare
feet. Little children trying to hide their benumbed fingers under scanty rags, young girls
shivering and hungry, old men and old women
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
hastening to their meals of bread and pork,-all
in need of sympathy, and all in poverty compared
with the condition of the horses; yet no one cared
whether these creatures were supplied with food
or clothing, and no one complained of the wealthy
owner for thus neglecting and abusing his human
cattle. The interest on the money lying idle in
horse-flesh and stables would have kept two
hundred of those needy ones in comfort and
happiness, and would have assisted in giving to
society educated, thoughtful, and profitable men
and women.
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CHAPTER XIV.
LABOR REFORM.
Lack of Thought. - How  Politicians lead the People. - The
Lessons of the War. - Organization of a Labor Reform
Party. - No Leaders. - What the Laborers demand. - Less
Hours.- The Respect of Thinking Alen.- Just Legislation.
I.
HE  time was, not many years ago, when the
employee who  received his regular wages
never ventured to iinquire into his employer's business, nor questioned the equity of his pay, provided
that he obtained a sufficient amount to defray his
necessary expenses. It mattered but little to him,
as far as right was concerned, whether the pay was
small or great, if he obtained the sum for which
he agreed to labor.  No one dreamed that he was
earning more than he could get in an open bargain, or that the profits of a business should have
any consideration in the bargains for employment
of workmen.
The intelligent workmen of America then, notwithstanding their boasted superiority to the same
I
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
classes in England, Russia, and Germany, were in
a mental thraldom as strong as it was subtle. The
farmers of New England twenty years ago always
laid the latest congressional speech which appeared
in their weekly paper under the old family Bible,
and preserved it for the Sabbath or a rainy day,
when it could be carefully devoured and partially
dig,ested. The longest and most intricate speeches
were the subjects of his greatest admiration, and
the orator to whom the newspaper gave the largest
space was the farmer's nominee for the next Presidency. It never occurred to him that he himself
could ever be a government officer, and year after
year he voted for town, county, State, and national
officials, permitting his judgment to be easily controlled by the aforesaid paper or by some remarks
of his pastor.
Then, it was thought necessary to make very
costly displays during, the canvass for the election
of presidents, and on such occasions as the election
of Jackson, Taylor, Tyler, Harrison, and others
millions of money were wasted in noise and idle
show. The author remembers the canvass of 1856
when in the New England States there were enormous sums expended in torchlights, fireworks,
and banners for the avowed purpose of "awakening an enthusiasm" for General Fremont.  It was
necessary to do this in order to impress the unthinking masses of the greatness alid popularity of
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THOUGHT AND LIBERTY.
the candidate. Men, however, were then intelligent, and claimed to be public-spirited, but they
did not t(hin7.  To them liberty was an inheritancee, paid for by their fathers and handed down
to them as a mere keepsake, of which no one would
dream of robbing, them; they calmly accepted it,
and talked and voted as if the candidate were all
there is of interest in political campaigns. Liberty
and justice were, as they thought, secure. Even
the great men, like Webster, Choate, and Everett,
cared but little for the reasoning powers of the
workingc classes, and pursued such a course as would
be the most likely to win the influence of the
wealthy classes. Hero-worship was the controlling
sentiment. As Tom Brown, the shoe-boss, voted,
so voted his employees; and the side which the
dealer in town espoused was the party of Tom
Brown, and the political opinion of some favorite
orator made the opinion of the city dealer. Each
depended upon some one higher in office or in social
standing for the necessary guidance in all political
affairs. Even a " selectman" in the smallest
mountain town was generally an object of veneration to every one of his constituents. Hence it
was necessary only to bring  sufficient influence
upon the leaders to obtain an election to any
office.
Political discussions were then carried on only
by little knots of men on the street-corners, in the
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NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
bar-rooms, or in the social evening-parties.  When
a great man addressed the "citizens," they insensibly sided with him until his rival followed. There
were no discussions on such occasions among the
hearers. They accepted or rejected the proposition
at the time, and, unless provoked by some extraordinary cause, would not venture to deny the statements of either party. Such wordy controversies
as did occur were such as related to the character
of a candidate, or the integrity of the party, without a reference, except in the most vague and
unmeaning way, to the contestants'  rights.   In
short, every white man supposed that he had all
of his rights, moral and political, and deemed the
arrogance of the wealthy and pride of the officials
to be a part of "nature's great and grand design."
II.
THE late Civil War brought nearly as many
great changes in the North as it did in the South.
The soldiers, who were called upon to go and fight
for the nation, found that their liberties were to
cost something The man who, in the draft for
soldiers to supply the  army, heard  his name
called as the first check was taken from the
marshal's wheel, and who found that he must go
and leave a wife and eight children, and thus pay
well for the little comfort which he and his had
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WORKMEN IN WAR.
enjoyed. When the name of his rich neighbor
was called, he saw the wealthy stockholder pay a
sum of money and go home  a free man, and he
then, for the first time, perhaps, in his life, saw
what an unjust power the law placed in the hands
of the wealthy.
Through years of untold hardship and danger
the poor man toiled on, undergoing cheerfully the
sacrifice; for with each new tax the value of liberty
increased. He found that he must fight and dare
in order to retain his own liberty, while attempting
the liberation of others. He found time in camp,
or on picket, or in the hospital, to solve the question
which so often arose to the lips of the soldier,
namely, What is this all for?  "For  liberty we
suffer," said the leaders.  But this reply had more
meaning, after sieges, battles, and forced marches
than it ever seemed to have before, and the man
who had voted many times so thoughtlessly began
. to ask himself what "liberty" meant.  Accepting
that statesmanlike definition, "the greatest good
of the greatest number," he could not fail to see
that there were other classes besides the negroes
of tire South who had not such liberty as "the
greatest good of the greatest number" demanded.
He saw, too, that his old neighbors were pro moted to official positions for which they were less
fitted than himself, and was compelled nearly every
hour to pay military salutes to men whose station
285 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
in life was socially no better than his own. This
brought about a great revolution in the matter of
hero-worship, and the holder of an office became
simply an individual; surrounded by none of that
dignity, and possessed of none of that mysterious
greatness which the soldier had before imagined to
belong to official position.
There, too, the citizens of different localities were
unavoidably thrown together by the tactics of war,
and the soldiers from Maine and Minnesota, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, New York and Illinois, all stood side by side on the field upon an
equality. Their common cause created an interest
in one another, and by the interchange of ideas all
became in a measure acquainted with the manners,
people, and natural features of the whole country.
They found everywhere the same great gulf between
the rich and the poor which the founders of the
nation had hoped to cover with the laws against
titles and hereditary aristocracy, and felt how much
more they had to pay for their liberty than did the
law-protected man of wealth, who sat in his home
and smoked his cigar, while a hired substitute
fought his battles. Trial and woe made them
jealous of their rights, and the masses beyan to
think.
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BAD LAWS.
AFTER the war there was a great reaction; their
experience with proud officers, and their new views
of life made them difficult to lead.   They had
little or no respect for the person of an officer,
and felt that they were as much entitled to govern as any one.  The laboring men had not overlooked the necessity for organization, neither had
their irreverence for the officers decreased their
respect for the law. The law was everything, and
in the making of those laws they had an equal
share. Before, the laws had been so constructed
as to strongly favor capital; the plan of permitting, supply and demand, pay and profits, to regulate themselves had been most grievously interfered with, and such measures had been established
by law and custom as to increase the power of
capital tenfold.
The necessity was at once apparent for either a
return to the equitable state of " no law," or counter
laws must be passed to defeat the purposes of those
already established; and upon this work they entered with a will. As early as 1863 a movement
began in Pennsylvania, and from that time until
1871 there was little or no rest. The pioneer in
the movement was William H. Sylvis, an ironmoulder of Pennsylvania, who felt so strongly the
need of labor reform that he worked himself into an
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III. 
STATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
untimely grave, while attempting to organize the
laborers of the nation. The National Labor Reform Congress at Philadelphia in 1869 was held
pursuant to his call; but about three weeks before
the time set for the meeting God called him hence.
His succesoor, Richard F. Trevelick, is a shipwright
by trade, and, like his predecessor, a nobleman by
nature.
Thus we see that the only three real leaders
which the Labor Reformers have had have come
from the ranks of actual laboring men. An ironmoulder, a shipwright, and a shoemaker, in actual
toil, stepped from the dingy shop into the halls to
initiate a movement destined to revolutionize this
country, and have an influence upon like movements in Europe.
That there has been a great necessity for leaders,
and a lack of available men in the ranks of the
laborers, is apparent to the most casual observer.
The reaction has carried them too far, and the
workmen, although they desire to organize, have a
prejudice against being led. More than this, the
men and women of real merit have been too modest
to assume a leadership without being forced into
positions, while the attempts of silly politicians to
lead them have only served to disgust them more
deeply than ever with all office-seekers of every
class. The whole movement in America has been
characterized by no leadership except in the cases
288
i
t 
RISE OF THE LABOR MOVEMENT.
mentioned, and has had its rise entirely with the
masses. No one has preached reform and organized the converts; no great Jove has arisen to
hurl his lightnings at sleepy mortals; but, as if by
instinct, all the laborers in all the States moved
at the same time toward organization and reform.
Conventions, lyceums, and "lodges" were organized in different States, and with remarkable concert of action the laborers of different sections of
the country counselled together for a campaign
in favor of "liberty" in its truest and best sense.
The party took the form of two great divisions,one declaring its principles to be the election to office
of none. but such men as can show calloused hands;
while the other was unwilling to vote a comrade
into office, and permit him to draw $5 or $10 a
day, while his constituents, who were earning only
$1.50 or $ 2 a day, were just as well qualified to
govern as he. These apparently discordant elements did much toward the elevation of the
party, as they both tended directly toward the
creation of a strong desire among the laboring
classes for education.
The man who, before the excitement began, spent
his leisure hours in the bar-rooms or on the streets,
became interested in the improvement of his mind,
and regularly attended on the meetings of the
order to which he belonged, and abandoned the
dram-shop to pore over a book, or peruse the Labor
289
13
8 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Reform periodicals which the discussions called into
being.
This result, which has opened a door for the entrance into the arena of such as have been endowed
with natural genius, will soon furnish leaders who
will possess both of the required qualifications;
namely, calloused hands and great minds.
IV.
IT may be interesting to the reader to know
what are some of the objects which the organizations of laborers hope to accomplish. There are
many different opinions, plans, and aims; but all of
them are included in the general demand for such
rights as will give to natural ability its needed cllture, and guarantee a recognition of Nature's aristocracy wherever its representative noblemen may
appear. They purpose to begin that mighty reform
which is destined sooner or later to overturn the
inefficient pretenders in mortal aristocracy and
substitute everywhere the generous, good, and great
from God's own natural line.
To offset the unwise legislation in favor of capital, the laborers ask for a reduction in the hours
of labor.   They claim that such laws will insure
the education of the laborers, and reduce the number of criminals and useless non-producers.
There is no more labor performed now while the
290 
EM'IPLOYMENT  OF IDLERS.
few workmen labor twelve or fifteen hours a day
than the demand renders necessary.  Hence the
reduction of the hours of labor would increase the
demand for laborers.  The workman, although he
would do his work much better, could not do as
much work in eight hours as lie has done in fifteen. The reduction in the hours would oblige
manufacturers, merchants, and farmers to employ
a larger number of persons. As nearly all the laboring people are now employed, they must of necessity find workmen among other classes. The
non-producing hangers-on, such as bar-keepers,
small speculators, "fancy men," and other pests of
society, with the beggars and poorhouse occupants,
would be irresistibly drawn into the ways of industry, there being then work enough for all. The
fearful evils which idleness brings upon society,
making thieves, drunkards, and libertines of men
naturally fitted for higher and better stations in
life, would, in a measure at least, be avoided; while
the laborer who now supports this enormous body
of men and women would have the cost of their living for himself. There can be no doubt that honest,
well-paid labor, which is not a state of slavery,
would empty the jails, as the present sentences expire, and reduce the necessity for poorhouses, hovels, charitable institutions, and houses of assignation. A reasonable amount of labor elevates the
workman as much as an unreasonable amount de
291
II
i 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
grades him; and if it were made reasonable by
law, it would also be respectable. Then no person
of any ability or natural honesty would pride himself upon "getting a living without work," and
none could say, when in the courts of justice or in
rags, that they owe their degradation to a lack of
honest employment.
The workmen of to-day would be incalculably
benefited by this reduction. The efforts which
they are now making to obtain education, and the
way in which their spare time is now beginning to
be occupied, indicates what use they would make
of their opportunities had they more time and
less fatigue.
Short hours will enable the workman to perform his duties without so exhausting his vital
energies as to make it impossible to study or
to enjoy thoughtful amusement. Books, lectures,
newspapers, discussions, or creditable plays can
have no attraction for exhausted men and women.
Such persons need something which will require
little or no thought; and in this can be found
the reason why the laboring people patronize so
many silly shows and love bar-room jokes.
The exhausted system craves stimulating drink,
and hundreds fall into a drunkard's grave for no
other reason than that they are overworked.
There is at present but little opportunity for the
cultivation of the mind by reading or study, and it
292 
REFORM.
is a wonder that the laboring classes of America
have retained as much intelligence as we now find
among them.   Discouraged by insufficient pay,
deadened by arduous toil, worn with the cares
which debt and uncertainty throw upon them, and
filled with envy at the sight of others whom fortune or friends have placed in positions of wealth
and ease, they must lead an aimless, ambitionless
life unless endowed with more than the ordinary
strength of mind; and they show  a greatness
which is surprising, when, in the presence of these
counter-influences, they can take sufficient thought
to see their degradation and have the courage to
point out the remedy.
V.
THESE Reformers ask for a hearing. They believe that something may be learned of them as
well as of others, and that their experience in a
measure offsets their lack of education. The most
illustrious men of the world have been such as
were "good listeners," and could find something
instructive in every man's conversation. We need
more of those men in America.   Mere theorists are
an encumbrance to society. Like faith and works
in spiritual matters, theory and experience in
political affairs must always  go together.   The
workingmen have the experience, and by organ
293 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
izations and discussions are taking the necessary
steps to secure the theory. Like Henry Ward
Beecher's book-farming, where the beans seemed
to come up the " wrong end first," the book
theories regarding capital and labor have served
only to complicate and render impracticable the
whole question.  The workmen wish  to furnish
thefacts for the foundation, and let the structure
rise from them, instead of taking theories for corner-stones, and hewing the facts to suit their shape
and size.  They will not accept any theories that
are not compatible with the following facts,
which they are struggling hard to get before the
world:  Labor is capital. The capital of the working
men and women does not receive its just proportion of the profits when united with the capital of
the wealthy.
Whenever the workmen have been granted an
opportunity to educate themselves, they have become valuable members of society, and have given
such inventions to civilization as have added tenfold to the comforts of human life.
Legislation has heretofore given its exclusive
favor to wealth; and whatever progress the laborers
have made, or whatever rights they have obtained,
have been gained in direct opposition to capital
protected by law. There is no opportunity for
"self-regulation" so long as legislatures interfere.
294 
WORKrNGMEN'S NEEDS.
If they make laws for one side, they must for the
other.
Eight hours of labor, with four hours of study or
healthy recreation, will soon increase the skill of
the operatives, so that they can earn nearly as
much in eight hours as they now earn in twelve;
and, like the sewing-machines and other improvements, they will cause a greater demand for the
work of their hands.
Opportunity for reading and observation given
by limited hours of labor will create a desire for
the refinements of society, and make them a class
of profitable consumers.
Children, who go to school six hours in every
day, earn as much in the remaining six hours as
they do during the entire day when they are not
in school*
Organized "strikes" and labor associations have
had a wonderful effect in preventing riots, in ad vancing education, and in developing the best parts
of the workman's nature. No mob riots have ever
occurred, either in England or in the United States,
where the workmen were sufficiently educated to
be able to sustain a close organization.
No working man or woman, after having en  tered upon the discussion of the subject, is willing
to accept any terms short of such remuneration as
they would be entitled to under a strict and im
* Massachusetts Statistics of Labor.
295
I 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
partial system of co-operation, where every laborer
is supposed to be a participator in the profits of
the business to the full extent of his capital
(labor) invested.
The laborers pay as dearly for their liberty as
do any other class, and appreciate the benefits of a
liberal form of government as well as other members of society.
VI.
I CANNOT pass this subject without adding a
word to the arguments already advanced with regard to those great monopolies which law-protected
capital is creating. It was thought by the statesmen of the age just passed, that the granting of
certain rights and privileges to corporations, which
gave them such power as to defeat any attempt of
single laborers or associations of laborers to compete with them, was unwise and dangerous.  What
would they have said if they could have foreseen
the enactments which in our day have made railroad, land, ship, and telegraph companies into
mighty monopolies that threaten to overturn our
whole system of government? The public domain
is given away to railroad corporations in tracts as
large' as France. Great subsidies are granted to
private enterprises, and the earnings of the poor
man are used to rivet his own chains. The workman upon a telegraph line finds when it is com
296 
FUTURE OF THE CAUSE.
plete that he must pay one hundred per cent
profits for sending a message announcing the death
of a friend. The former employee of a railroad
company learns that a passage over the road is as
much greater than a just rule would permit as his
wages were less than what he earned; and that with
the great land-grants and exclusive charters he is
charged double the price which would have been
askled on a road built without public assistance or
protection. In the face of all this he is met at the
doors of the legislatures with the cry that "labor
and capital must regulate themselves."
Nothing will remedy this evil but the representation of labor in the halls of legislation. The
laboring men can regulate it, and the laboring
men will regulate it. They will have the power as
soon as they learn how to use the means already in
their possession. When discussion and study shall
have created a desire for reading sufficient to make
the subscription-lists of our daily papers show a
majority of names which belong to workingmen,
the press will at once be with them.  With the
power of the press, educated leaders, and an earnest purpose, too independent to be purchased and
too vigilant to be deceived, the majority will rule,
and the majority are working men and women.
13*
297 
CIHAPTER XV.
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
Woman's  Rights. -Woman's  Sphere. - Using  the  Talents
which God gave her. - History of the Suffrage Movement in
America.- Margaret Fuller.- Why the Rich do not want
the Ballot. - Who need it.- Conclusion.
1.
HE exact meaning of the word "rights" has
never been definitely settled, and the expression "woman's rights" only serves to render its
import more vague and complicated than when
standing alone. You want your "rights." I want
my "rights."  WVhite  men want  their "rights,"
and black men want their "rights"; but in the
whole list there is nothing so indefinite as woman's
"rights."  Men and women stare at each other
with an expression of nothingness, whenever the
subject is mentioned. "What can woman want
more  than she has  got?"   Some venturesome
wights, who seemed to think that an unmeaning 
WOMAN'S RIGHTS.
or foolish reply is better than none, have made
good Pope's remark, that
"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,"
by making some of the following statements:
" Women want the right to go to the polls with the
men," "They want to go to war," " They wish for
the chance to rule," "They desire to be placed in
positions for which they are unfitted," "Woman
wants to vote merely because she has not had the
privilege," " Woman is discontented in her proper
sphere," "She wants  the right of doing  man's
work," "She wants to oblige her husband to do the
housework while she devotes her attention to the
farm, the factory, and the warehouse," "She wishes
to perform impossibilities," &c., &c. The more
absurd and impracticable the proposition the more
convinced have these buffoons been that it was just
what the women the most desired.
"Woman's rights," however, have never been
defined, and never can be defined in any one or
any series of books. The needs of one woman are
not the wants of another, and the desires of one
class can find no sympathizers in any other class.
They can unite on no certain remedy as applying
to every class, because there are no certain wrongs
that apply to the whole sex. Some are blessed
with everything they desire; others have nothing.
Some are forced into higher positions than they
can fill; others are far below their natural station.
299 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
While one is favored, another is slighted; and
oftentimes that which makes one happy makes
another miserable.
It cannot be supposed that there is a remedy
for all the wrongs which women suffer; but the
measure which seems to promise the greatest resuits is that of Woman's Suffrage. By this means
women are placed on a political equality with men,
and have nearly an equal chance with them of receiving a recognition of such natural talent as they
may happen to possess. The agitators demand
universal freedom. I do not believe that the
thinking women of to-day desire or expect the
passage of laws which will oblige them to do man's
duties. They demand the liberty to do that for
which Nature seemed to have intended them when
she endowed them with intelligence and bodily
vigor. No human law can change their physical
stature or enlarge the size of their brains; but the
absence of restrictive laws may afford them an opportunity to cultivate their brains and strengthen
their physical stature. Neither do I think that
laws or their consequences could ever make women
as a class the mental equals of the men as a class.
But when there are women, as often happens, with
brains as large, with minds as strong, and with
physical stature as enduring, as can be found in
the ranks of men, I would not suffer a law to exist
which prevented such a person from occupying an
300 
FITNESS FOR POSITION.
equal place with the men of her ability. I would
open the whole stage to firee competition from
every class, and award the crown to the successful
ones without regard to age, sex, or nationality.
No law shotcl l)2reveitt the use of a single talent
which  God has given to 9)an or  icomian.  The
woman whose tastes take her to the bedside of the
sick, with her who feels that she has the ability
to defend the right upon the rostrum, should be
protected and encouraged. If there were found in
the ranks of women some who were able and willing to shoulder a musket or accept the position of
a sea-captain or police-officer, - as absurd as it
seems at first thought, - I would not deny them
the privilege. The few women that have been
soldiers,' sailors, and detectives have no more
"brought disgrace on their sex" than the tailors,
hospital nurses, and bakers have injured the
fair fame of the men. It needs no argument,
however, to establish the truth of the axiom which
recognizes the propriety of doing that for which
one is best fitted; and woman's suffrage will serve
no other purpose but that of giving equal oppor tunities to those equally endowed.
II.
THE Woman's  Suffrage movement is  the outgrowth of civilization, and is also the more imme
301. 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
diate result of a recent retrograde movement among
the political and social leaders of enlightened
society. In the earlier ages of the world physical
strength determined the superiority, and women
with the weaker classes of men were held in bondag,e. But little attention was paid to mental qualifications for leadership, for nmuscle was the master.
In that field woman had her "rights," and we often
read in history of Amazonians like Boadicea, to
whom were accorded leadership on account of their
physical power.  Then came the age of chivalry,
when, for the lack of other causes of contention, the
lovers of bloodshed and war agreed upon assuming
a protectorate over the weaker sex; each man looking upon the whole class as his immediate charge.
After endless quarrels and murders in attempting
to do for woman what they would not let her do
for herself, the men gave up the task, and woman
relapsed into her former obscurity and servitude.
But the advance of civilization, while it rejected
the idea of serving woman merely because she
was the "weaker sex," increased man's respect for
her gentleness and natural kindness of disposition.
The Pilgrim Fathers, when they came to America, did not hesitate to bring their wives and
children with them across the stormy sea; but they
were, nevertheless, so far advanced that they respected and honored true womanhood. Years passed,
302 
DAUGHTERS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and this respect increased, until the men of New
England gave to their wives and daughters the
lightest and neatest part of the family labor, considering the house and its keeping more fitted to
their ability, while the men undertook to perform
all the out-door work, which required physical
strength and endurance.   It was done as an equitable division of labor, and among other duties the
men undertook the care of town and colony affairs.
There was no intentional injustice, and the woman
had no thought of asking a vote for the purpose of
protecting rights which had alwhvays been accorded
to her without question.
There were husbands for all the ladies, and it
was a sin and disgrace to be an old maid; hence
the men felt that every woman could have a protector, who could defend her in case of any attempted injustice. They meant no evil themselves,
and did not surmise that their successors would
harbor thoughts of selfishness and wrong. Woman
did not feel that she was deprived of any rights,
because she had no occasion to exercise them.
The war of the Revolution of 1812, and the
campaign in Mexico, left many widows and husbandless maids, and for the time awakened some
interest in the rights of women who had no male
protector; but as that generation passed off the
stage the sexes were again equalized, and comparative harmony restored.   The effects of the
303 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Mexican war, as slight as it was in the light of
subsequent events, had not ceased entirely to be
felt in the New England States when the discovery of gold in California, and the unprecedented
"Western fever" induced the emigration of a large
number of young men from the Eastern States.
They could not entertain the thought that the
women  whom they loved should be exposed to the
hardships which they expected to endure, and so
they left the women at home while they went out
by thousands "to make their fortunes." Thousands never came back, nor sent back for the
girls whom they left behind; and a large surplus
of female population was found in all the Eastern
States at the next census. Then came the war
with the South, and tens of thousands went into
the field never to return, leaving behind them wives
and daughters who had depended solely upon their
support. The soldiers fell, and the bereaved women
were left without protectors: and with but a very
little means of sustenance. Then it was that frail
women, placed at the head of families, were obliged
to pay taxes on their little homes, according to
assessments the justice or injustice of which they
had no political power to question. They were
subject to expensive delays by the "red tape" behavior of officials, in whose election, unfortunately,
they had no voice; and were obliged to send their
children to schools where they had no influence,
304 
WOMAN'S WORK.
iter with regard to the discipline or the plan of
studies. In short, they were obliged to do all of a
man's work, and all of a mrother's; under the double
disadvantage of being physically weak and of possessing, no political influence that would entitle
thaem to respect. Many a widow has been slighted
and harshly treated when she applied for pension,
or tried to do a man's business, because  the unprincipled official did not wish to bother with a
person who could give him no vote.
III.
WHEN the surplus of women became so great,
and it was evident that a large number must either
starve or find some permanent employment, there
arose the question as to how far a woman might
with propriety proceed with a man's work. Thousands must live and die single, and there was no
provision made by custom or law for this class of
human beings. They must encroach upon the
domain before held in exclusive possession by the
men. Long before the war this question presented
itself, and had been decided by many in favor of
clerkships and teaching. In order to obtain any
foothold in this exclusive territory, the women
were obliged to repeat the action of those who, at
the beginning of the factory system, attempted to
obtain places in the mills. They accepted any                                      T
(I
305 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
thing that offered itself, and took whatever pay
was tendered them; which in some instances was
exceedingly small.  Notwithstanding they knew
that their predecessors had received thrice the
amount which they received, they never found any
fault, so glad were they to obtain anything. Thus a
precedent was established which, as it soon passed
into custom, could not be broken without the
assistance of the law. To this number of poorly
paid working-women was added the host of widows and orphans left destitute by the war. The
market for woman's labor was crowded to repletion with anxious applicants, and because they
were in such sore need the speculating employers
refused to pay them more than enough to sustain
life. Great fields of labor, untilled and unthrifty,
lay all around them, the bounds of which they
could not pass, and men were becoming rich on
salaries paid for work which women could perform
equally as well as the men; but those offices
were political offices, and none but voters and controllers of voters could be admitted. Farms were
in need of tillage, mills were lying idle, and
great enterprises were dormant for lack of man's
labor, while the men who should have been caring for them were in offices which women could
just as well have filled had they been qualified
voters.
306 
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
IV.
THE first great advocate which woman's suffrage
found in this country was Margaret Fuller Ossoli.
The vast emigration of the men from England,
and the sad situation of the women had awakened
some enthusiasm there; but, unlike the movement
in this country, it had leaders, but no followers. Here there were plenty of followers, but no
distinguished leaders. Through all the agitation
upon the Woman's Suffrage movement in this
country there has never been another advocate
of its principles so uncompromising and so purehearted as Margaret Fuller Ossoli.
Her remarkable life and her unswerving fidelity
to principle are too well known to the American
people to need a repetition here. How she labored
and wrote, talked and persuaded; how she pitied
the imprisoned "victims of a debased civilization"; how she labored, while in Rome, in the
preparation of a history of the Revolution of 1848;
and how with her husband, Count d' Ossoli, she was
wrecked in sight of land and with her valuable
manuscript lost to the world forever,- are facts
in the history of America's great and good. She
was one of Nature's noblemen, combining the
comprehensive mind of Webster with the culture
and polish of Everett.
I remember being in attendance one evening on
307 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
a lecture delivered by a woman upon Margaret
Fuller's life, and the speaker, after saying much in
praise, summed up her entire speech in the closing
words: " Her life was a failure." In the audience,
unbeknown to the speaker, sat the mother and
brother of the unfortunate genius about whom the
words were uttered, and the old lady turned to the
brother, saying, " If you do not get up and reply to
that lecturer, then I will." But the man needed
no urging, and he calmly arose in his seat, and in
a clear, sweet, unimpassioned voice said: "The
lecturer has said some beautiful things of my sister, but she also states that her life was a failure.
Could the life of that woman have been a failure,
who was the staff and stay of a widowed mother,
who refused advantageous marriage in order to be
able to give her two brothers a college education,
and who wrote "Woman of the Nineteenth Century"?  The applause which greeted him showed
plainly where lay the sympathy of the audience.
Her life was by no means a failure. That great
mind, which could sing, her little boy to sleep amid
the breakers that scattered the wreck, and encourage the sailors to face death when even they
were without hope, has left its impression in her
writings, and on her disciples who remain. Biographers may call her an "egotist," may assail her
as they choose; the time will come when she will
be appreciated, and when the great reform, which
308 
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
she almost unconsciously originated, will claim the
homage and respect of every civilized nation on
the face of the earth.
It was pleasant indeed to find on the sixtieth
anniversary*  of Margaret  Fuller's birthday so
many able women  who were willing to take up
the work where she left it.
Such strong, sensitive, judicial mind as that of
Elizabeth Cady Stanton, such eloquence and independence as Mary A. Livermore displays, such
culture and originality as marks the efforts of
Julia Ward Howe, are just the elements which
insure success. Above all this, however, is the
faith they have in the cause, and their apparently
conscientious behavior.
V.
TO-DAY in New England- and it is only there
that women are so numerous as to be at present
much neglected or oppressed - there are three
great classes of women with whom this question has
to do, namely, the aristocratic, the middle, and the
working classes.  The  aristocratic class  do  not
want the ballot, and declare that they "could not
be forced to vote"; the middle classes concede
that the ballot is plainly a right, but avoid the
question, by saying that woman does not need it;
* Meeting of the Woman's Club, Boston.
309 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
while the laborers see in it a remedy for many of
their ills, and are anxious to obtain it.
The daughter of an aristocratic family, beginning in infancy, is supplied with every comfort
and pleasure which money can furnish. Books,
dolls, toys, and pictures fill the hours of childhood;
while visits, games, parties, music, and the dull
pleasures of a private school return day after day
in ever fresh variety as the weeks of girlhood
pass.  When after seventeen or eighteen years of
a happy life have gone, during which time she has
never been without devoted and wealthy friends
to do her bidding and satisfy every wish, she is
suddenly placed in the marriage market by her
relatives. A splendid and costly entertainment is
provided, and nearly all of the young men and
young, ladies of her class are invited to participate
in the ceremonies of her " conling out."  If very
wealthy she at once becomes a prize, set up for the
best or the richest or the shrewdest or the most
noted young man in society. The race begins at
once, and although the young lady most concerned
may look on with considerable interest, yet she
has little or nothing to do with the regulations
which are to govern and decide the race.
The young man who has seen the lady and
thinks that it is best for him to attempt to win
her, calls at her house late in the afternoon. He
does not ask for her, however, nor mention the
310 
COURTSHIP IN HIGHI LIFE.
object for which he calls, but sends his card to the
young lady's mother, and requests her presence in
the parlor.  If, during thle interview which follows, - when he tries his utmost to be agreeable
to the old lady,    the young lady is introduced to
him, or encouraged in his presence to converse
with him, he concludes that he is regarded with
favor.
Hie asks permission to call again if all parties
seem to be "exceedingly pleased," but at each
subsequent interview some member of her family
is present, until such time as the suitor has become
by common consent the betrothed husband.  Then
a formal engagement is made, the world is notified,
and no restraint is placed by guardians upon the
movements of the young, couple. The young gentleman thinks it to be his duty to wait upon his
affianced bride with unceasing care and devotion,
and watches her footsteps with the greatest vigilance lest she be annoyed or injured in some way.
Then follows the marriage, the parties, the presents, the tours, and sensations, after which she
becomes the mistress of a mansion where her word
is law, and where she is ever protected and cared
for by numerous hired domestics. In all the journley of life, she holds in her hands the imperial
power which money and position supply, is educated to no work, taught to avoid working men
and women, and told by all that it is vulgar for a
311
i
I
t 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
lady to do anything but oversee the servants, receive callers, and stitch upon fancy work.  In her
presence no man would venture a word upon politics. Such women naturally look upon the idea
of going to the polls with a promiscuous crowd of
men and women, and having only the same number of ballots that a servant has, as something
repulsive and very much to be feared. In their
blissful ignorance of the world and its ways, the
ballot is a very undesirable thing. They have
nothing to gain by it, while it might cause them a
great deal of trouble. That they have a duty to
perform to those whom it will benefit cannot be
impressed upon their minds, because the whole tendency of their education has been to give them the
opinion that they are beings higher and nobler
than they who work; while in some few cases the
lower classes are treated by them as a nuisance to
be abated on the first occasion. There are more of
those ladies who have no part or interest in the
government, and who regard any participation in
politics by a lady as an exhibition of coarseness
or vulgarity, than there are of "low Irishwomen"
who would not understand the meaning of a vote.
Either would use the ballot with great awkwardness until the faulty education of the one and the
ignorance of the other were overcome by experience and care.
312 
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
VI.
OMITTING any extended notice of the middle
classes, who incline toward one or the other of the
two remaining divisions as circumstances happen
to influence them, and who take but little pains to
advocate woman's suffrage, although they all recognize the natural right of every sane woman to the
ballot; I will refer to the women who see their
degradation, and feel their chains, but cannot
escape.
The factory-girl, who enters upon her work when
ten or twelve years of age, has none of the friendly
care and none of the comforts which the wealthy
daughter possesses. She is treated neither with
politeness nor consideration. She must go to the
agent herself, and without favor or advice, make
her own bargain with him. She must hire her
own board, buy her own clothes, earn her own
money, and attend personally to all her affairs of
business, whether they call her to the street, the
counting-house, or the parlor.  She has no difference shown her there because she is a woman;
and she must work as hard and do her task as
well as a man, or, like him, be discharged, without
ceremony or apology.
Treated in every respect like a man, governed
by the same strict rules, and as often obliged to
defend her property or character, she receives only
14
313 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
about one half of a man's pay, and none of his
"perquisites."  She is placed in a position where
she is exposed to calumny, temptation, and crime;
with no weapon to defend herself, and no friends to
act for her. Her contact with the world and her
experience in affairs of business gives her an independence of character and a knowledge of her
rights which, under present circumstances, serves
only to aggravate her discontent. She feels the
power of the law, and knows full well that many
of her trials are due to unjust enactments which
she might amend if she had an equal right with
the half-witted loafer who is employed to do "odd
jobs." If you should ask her opinion about the
delicacy of going to the polls to vote, or with regard to the reasons why she would vote for specified measures, she would say that the polls could
not be a worse place than those which she is obliged
to enter every day, and that she is as able to discuss questions of politics, takes as many papers,
and has as much interest in public affairs as any
of the men who work beside her.
Factory-girls are always politicians; they must
discuss something; and in the absence of fashionable balls, dinner-parties, new styles, and the
amusements of high life, they turn their attention
to the solid affairs which concern the welfare of
State and nation. They see the deceit, doubledealing, and fraud which enter into politics, mak
314 
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
ing men miserable as well as women. They are
cognizant of the dangers that beset the nation, and
of the measures which would avoid them; but
they can only sit and weep while politicians concoct their schemes for plunder and advantage.
VII.
THE lady clerks and accountants, who form a
large proportion of the women employed in the
non-manufacturing towns, are obliged to care for
themselves and do their own business. In Massachusetts there are thousands of orphans, both in
factory and store, who began very young, and have
had no assistance of any kind in providing themselves with the comforts of life. Many began as
little "cash girls," and from the time they shrinkingly entered the salesroom for the first time, they
have been constantly schooled in the severest trials
of life. Engaging in men's business, they became
as efficient as men; and although they so unjustly
receive but one half the compensation which men
would receive, have been successful competitors
with them in every mercantile department into
which they have been permitted to enter.
I remember a row of little girls who were seated
on the edge of the platform during a meeting of
the "Dover strikers," and who appeared to me to
be too small to be away from home without a
i
315
I 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
guardian. Leaning over so as to call the attention
of one of the nearest of the group, I asked her
what she could be doing there. "0," said the
lisping child, "I ese on der sthike."
Two little girls who had been turned out of employment by a refusal of the other employees to
attend to their duties, went into a confectionery
shop, where one proposed to purchase some candy;
but the smaller one, who was about six years old,
advised the elder to save her money, and added:
"You know we are on a strike, and there is no
certainty about the time when we shall earn any
more!"
"I know," said the other independent child,
"but the money I've got is my money. I earned
it, and I'll spend it as I see fit."
Beginning thus in their youth, and continuing
through life in the same course, they become, by
force of circumstances, intelligent women, endowed
with a large amount of practical knowledge, and
its excellent helpmeet, good old-fashioned common sense.
The most favored and at the same time the most
abused class of clerking women are those who
have succeeded in obtaining situations in government offices. Their pay is usually better than
that of many other women, but their weakness and
lack of political power exposes them to the insults
and despicable chicanery of any political rascal
316 
GIRLS IN THE TREASURY DEPARTMENT.  317
who presumes to attack them. If they had votes
to cast, no such assaults would ever be made upon
them. There might be political quarrels, jealousy,
and hate, but for every actual wrong there would
then be the same means of redress which the men
have.
A short time ago a member of the United States
Congress arose in a branch of that august body, and
accused all the girls in the employ of the Treasury
Department of crimes which cannot be rehearsed
here.  Why he should spend his temper, time, and
breath in thus  accusing the wives of wounded
soldiers, the daughters of deceased generals, and
virtuous supporters of invalid parents and children, can only be accounted for by the fact that
his associations elsewhere had been such as to
destroy his respect for women in general, and kill
every sense of shame which he might otherwise
have possessed. The untruth of his statements
was so apparent to all that the people of the
country laughed at him, and excused him as the
Yankee did the donkey, because " he did n't know
any better." It may be that some of the government offices employ female clerks whose reputations are not good, and if so, it is the fault of the
men who vote and who hold the offices. But this
could be said of but very few in the departments
at Washington compared with the whole number,
and those would not remain in office, and continue 
INATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
to sin if woman had sufficient political influence
and the opportunity to meet in Congress the few
debauched and unprincipled representatives who
keep those disreputable persons there. Neither
would those defenceless women, to whom a good
name is everything, have been permitted to
mourn and weep under the insult, without a single word of defence from among that host of
talented lawgivers.
On the evening - I should say, ntight- of the
22d of February, 1870, a great number of the fashionable ladies and titled men gathered at a hall in
WVashington to celebrate the birthday of Washington; and the description of the event, from the pen
of that unrivalled correspondent, "Olivia," found
its way over the country in the columns of the
Philadelphia Press. O the magnificent equipages
and the gorgeous apparel! The most fashionable
people of other cities sighed and wondered while
they read. It was a ball of the "old school," and
unnatural aristocrats were in their glory.
In all that company of diamond-decked ladies
it is very doubtful if there was a single one who
would not scoff at the idea of woman's suffrage.
They had more than their rights, and were satisfied
to trail their silks and coquette with their jewelled
fans, while thousands in that same city were without a good name, without friends, and without
proper sustenance, for the very reason that these
ball-goers possessed such a wealth of display.
318 
WOIMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
At that same time the umbrella and parasol
girls of New York were on a strike, attempting to
obtain a slight approach to a just compensation
for their work. One of them seeing "Olivia's"
description of the ball, exclaimed as tens of
thousands have done before, -
"Oh! why was I born?  It does seem as if God
cursed the poor and always favored the rich!"
I doubt not that the effect of that display upon
the desponding hearts of poor working-girls was
the indirect, if not the direct, cause of many of the
suicides which followed in such numbers so soon
after.
Do you ask if woman's suffrage would remedy
these evils?  We all know that it would remedy
a great many of them; and I doubt not that the
knowledge of woman's political principles and the
power for good which she would possess has hin dered the movement much more than the fear of
evil has done. The great and good have never
opposed the elevation of society and the advance ment of woman; the little and the bad have
always done so.
CONCLUSION.
In the inscrutable course of nature, men and
women are endowed with special mental and physical qualifications, fitting them for certain stations
in a perfect state of human society and unfitting
them for others.
319 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
In the present condition of the world very few
men or women reach the exact station for which
they appear to have been designed; while some
are so far misplaced as to cause much wretchedness and crime. -
So uncertain are we as to the time when, or the
place where, great and noble women will be born
that the only safe and just plan is to so regulate
our laws that all the men, women, and children may
have the full advantage of their natural genius.
In order to accomplish this there must be an
entire lawful equality between all mankind, and
the facilities for mental and physical culture must
extend to all alike.
With the aid of such laws and assistance the
great will rise to their stations untramelled, while
the little will fall to theirs,- making a complete
and harmonious whole.
But as we cannot look for perfection nor hope
to rid the world entirely of evil, we will not attempt in our weakness to right at once all the
wrongs which we find in the world.
For some evils, however, resulting from the unnatural condition of society, we can plainly, unmistakably, see the remedies; one of which is, practical co-operatioi between the laborer and the capitalist, and the other is woman's suffrage.
The first will give to working men and women
alike the means to assist themselves into the
I
k
320 
WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE.
spheres of labor for which they are fitted, will
alleviate much suffering, and eradicate much evil.
Without it education is a  curse to many, as it
creates desires which can never be satisfied and
leaves them to a poverty, the full misery of which
they ale sufficiently enlightened to realize.
Woman's suffrage gives to women who are
specially gifted the opportunity to assume their
proper stations in the political affairs of the nation.
It is not expected that many will leave the kitchen,
or the parlor, or the bedside, or the desk to assume
the badge of office, for few of them are fitted for it.
WVomlan will never rule, or aspire to rule, those
who are better qualified for office than she. But
there are crimes to prevent, fallen women to raise,
poverty to alleviate, ignorant people to educate,
and justice to do, which have not been done under
the exclusive franchise of the men, and which in
all probability woman would accomplish if she had
the power that the ballot gives.
Suffrage, taken aside from the good it would
accomplish, is due to woman as an act of the sinmplest justice. She is taxed for her property, but
has no voice in the use of those contributions to
society.  She is arrested for breaking laws which
were made without consulting her. She is tried
before judges and juries who  cannot understand
or appreciate a woman's weakness or temptations,
and is often driven into further crime, and at last
321
14 *
u
I 
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY
buried in the holes of a "potter's field," because of
the unwise decisions of her male judges. She is
often at the head of a family, owing to the death
of her husband, and though intrusted with a man's
cares and responsibilities, she has none of mnan's
political power. In fine, she is under the'continued oppression of many foolish and injurious laws,
which man wilfully or ignorantly made, and which
he wilfully or carelessly refuses to abolish; to
none of which has she ever been asked to give her
consent, although a hundred and fifty thousand of
her sex in the United States must live and die
under those laws single and unprotected.
Not, however, to one law, not to one class, not
to one people, do I ask the reader's entire attention;
but rather to all those measures which will do justly
by all those men and all those women, wherever
they may be found, who can show an undisputed
title to an honorable rank in
NATURE'S ARISTOCRACY.
Cambridge: Printed by Welch, Bigelow, and Company.
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