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JOHN HOPKINS’S 
 
 NOTIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 POLITICAL ECONOMY. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by A. Spottiswoode, 
 New-Street-Square, 
 
JOHN HOPKINS’S 
 
 NOTIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 POLITICAL ECONOMY. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 “ CONVERSATIONS ON CHEMISTRY, 
 POLITICAL ECONOMY,” 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN. 
 
 PATERNOSTER- ROW. 
 
 1834 . 
 
/ 
 
 3 30 
 PI 33 1 
 \ S34- 
 
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 vD 
 
 C. 
 
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 € 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The miscellaneous character of the following 
 Tracts is accounted for by their having been 
 written at different periods. Some of them 
 were published, with the Author’s permission, 
 about two years ago, by a Society established in 
 Glamorganshire for the improvement of the 
 labouring classes. It will be obvious to the 
 reader, that it is for that rank of life that this 
 little work is principally intended. 
 
 r 
 
 r 
 

CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Rich and the Poor. A Fairy Tale 1 
 Wages. A Fairy Tale - - - 11 
 
 The Three Giants - 27 
 
 • Population; or. The Old World - 64? 
 
 Emigration ; or, A New World - 80 
 
 The Poor’s Rate; or, The Treacher- 
 ous Friend - - - 99 
 
 Machinery ; or, Cheap Goods and 
 
 Dear Goods - - 121 
 
 Foreign Trade ; or, The Wedding 
 
 Gown 147 
 
 Second Part - - - -154 
 
 Third Part - - 164 
 
 The Corn Trade; or, The Price of 
 
 Bread - - - - - 168 
 
THE 
 
 RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 In the time of the Fairies, things went on no 
 better than they do at present. John Hopkins, 
 a poor labourer, who had a large family of 
 children to support upon very scanty wages, 
 applied to a Fairy for assistance. “ Here am 
 I half starving,” said he, u while my landlord 
 rides about in a fine carriage; his children are 
 pampered with the most dainty fare, and even 
 his servants are bedizened with gaudy liveries : 
 in a word, rich men, by their extravagance, 
 deprive us poor men of bread. In order to 
 gratify them with luxuries, we are debarred 
 almost the necessaries of life.” — “ ’T is a piti- 
 able case, honest friend,” replied the Fairy, 
 “ and I am ready to do all in my power to 
 assist you and your distressed friends. Shall 
 
 B 
 
 *7 
 
2 
 
 THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 I, by a stroke of my wand, destroy all the 
 handsome equipages, fine clothes and dainty 
 dishes, which offend you ?” — “ Since you are 
 so very obliging,” said honest John, in the joy 
 of his heart, “ it would perhaps be better to 
 destroy all luxuries whatever : for, if you con- 
 fine yourself to those you mention, the rich 
 would soon have recourse to others ; and it 
 will scarcely cost you more than an additional 
 stroke of your wand to do the business out- 
 right, and get rid of the evil root and branch.” 
 No sooner said than done. The good-na- 
 tured Fairy waved her all-powerful wand, and, 
 wonderful to behold ! the superb mansion of 
 the landlord shrunk beneath its stroke, and was 
 reduced to a humble thatched cottage. The 
 gay colours and delicate textures of the apparel 
 of its inmates faded and thickened, and were 
 transformed into the most ordinary clothing; 
 the green-house plants sprouted out cabbages, 
 and the pinery produced potatoes. A similar 
 change took place in the stables and coach- 
 house : the elegant landau was seen varying 
 in form, and enlarging in dimensions, till it 
 became a waggon ; while the smart gig shrunk 
 and thickened into a plough. The manes of 
 the horses grew coarse and shaggy, their coats 
 lost all brilliancy and softness, and their legs 
 became thick and clumsy : in a word, they were 
 
THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 3 
 
 adapted to the new vehicles they were hence- 
 forward to draw. 
 
 Honest John was profuse in his thanks, but 
 the Fairy stopped him short. “ Return to me 
 at the end of the week,” said she ; “ it will be 
 time enough for you to express your gratitude 
 when you can judge how much reason you have 
 to be obliged to me.” 
 
 Delighted with his success, and eager to 
 communicate the happy tidings to his wife and 
 family, John returned home. “ I shall no longer,” 
 said he to himself, “ be disgusted with the con- 
 trast of the rich and the poor : what they lose 
 must be our gain, and we shall see whether 
 things will not now go on in a different manner.” 
 His wife, however, did not receive him with 
 equal satisfaction ; for, on having gone to dress 
 herself (it being Sunday) in her best cotton 
 gown, she beheld it changed to a homely stuff; 
 and her China tea-pot, given her by her land- 
 lord’s wife, and on w T hich she set no small store, 
 though the handle was broken, was converted 
 into crockery ware ! 
 
 She came with a woful countenance to com- 
 municate these sad tidings to her husband. 
 John hemmed and hawed, and at length wisely 
 determined to keep his own counsel, instead of 
 boasting of being the author of the changes 
 which had taken place. Presently his little 
 b 2 
 
4 
 
 THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 boy came in crying. “ What ails you, Tommy?” 
 said the father, half pettishly, and somewhat 
 suspecting that he might have caused his tears 
 also. “ Why, daddy,” replied the urchin, “ as 
 I was playing at battledore with Dick, the 
 shuttlecock flew away and was lost, and the 
 battledores turned into two dry sticks, good 
 for nothing but to be burnt.” — “ Psha ! ” cried 
 the father, who was beginning to doubt whether 
 he had not done a foolish thing. In order to 
 take time to turn over the subject in his mind, 
 and console himself for his disappointment, he 
 called for his pipe. The good wife ran to fetch 
 it, when, lo and behold ! the pipes were all dis- 
 solved ! there was pipe-clay in plenty, but no 
 means of smoking. Poor John could not refrain 
 from an oath, and, in order to pacify him, his 
 wife kindly offered him a pinch of snuff. He 
 took the box : it felt light, and his mind mis- 
 gave him as he tapped it. It was with too 
 much cause; for, on opening it, he found it 
 empty ! At length, being alone, he gave vent 
 to his vexation and disappointment. “ I was 
 a fool,” cried he, “ not to desire the Fairy to 
 meddle with the luxuries of the rich only. God 
 knows, we have so few, that it is very hard we 
 should be deprived of them. I will return to 
 her at the end of the week, and beg her to make 
 an exception in our favour.” This thought 
 
THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 5 
 
 consoled him for a while; but, long before the 
 end of the week, poor John had abundance of 
 cause to repent of all he had done. His brother 
 Richard, who was engaged in a silk manufac- 
 tory, was, with all the other weavers, turned 
 out of work. The silk had disappeared ; the 
 manufacturers, with ruin staring them in the 
 face, had sent their workmen out upon the wide 
 world. Poor John, conscience-struck, received 
 his starving brother into his house. <c You will 
 see great changes for the better soon,” said he, 
 u and get plenty of work.” — <c Where and 
 how?” cried Richard. But that was more than 
 John would say. 
 
 Soon after, Jack, his eldest son, returned 
 home from the coach maker with whom he 
 worked ; all the carriages being changed into 
 waggons, carts, and ploughs. “ But why not 
 remain with your master, and work at the carts 
 instead of the coaches?” said his father. — 
 “ Nay, but he would not keep me, he had no 
 work for me ; he had more carts and waggons 
 than he could dispose of for many a day : the 
 farmers, he said, had more than they wanted, 
 and the Cartwright business was at an end, as 
 well as coach making.” 
 
 John sighed ; indeed, he well-nigh groaned 
 with compunction. “ It is, however, fortunate 
 for me,” said he, “ that I earn my livelihood as 
 b 3 
 
6 
 
 THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 a labourer in the fields. Corn and hay, thank 
 God ! are not luxuries ; and I, at least, shall not 
 be thrown out of work.” 
 
 In a few days, however, the landlord, on 
 whose estate he worked, walked into the cot- 
 tage. John did not immediately know him, so 
 much was his appearance altered by a bob wig, 
 a russet suit of clothes, and worsted stockings. 
 “ John,” said he, 66 you are an honest hard- 
 working man, and I should be sorry you should 
 come to distress. Here are a couple of guineas, 
 to help you on till you can find some new em- 
 ployment, for I have no further occasion for 
 your services.” John’s countenance, which had 
 brightened up at the sight of the gold, now fell 
 most heavily. He half suspected that his land- 
 lord might have discovered the author of all 
 the mischief (for he could no longer conceal 
 from himself that such the change really was) ; 
 and he muttered, that “ he hoped he had not 
 offended his honour ?” — “ Do not honour me: 
 we are all now, methinks, peasants alike. I have 
 the good fortune, however, to retain my land, 
 since that is not a luxury; but the farm is so 
 much larger than, in my present style of living, 
 I have any occasion for, that I mean to turn 
 the greater part of it into a sheep-walk, or let 
 it remain uncultivated .” — “ Bless your honour, 
 that would be a sad pity ! such fine meadows, 
 
 i 
 
THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 7 
 
 and such corn ! But cannot you sell your pro- 
 duce, as before ? for corn and hay are not lux- 
 uries.” — “ True,” replied the landlord, “ but I 
 am now living on the produce of less than half 
 my estate ; and why take the trouble to culti- 
 vate more ? for since there are no luxuries to 
 purchase, I want no more money than to pay 
 my labourers, and buy the homely clothes I and 
 my family are now obliged to wear. Half the 
 produce of my land will be quite sufficient for 
 these purposes.” 
 
 Poor John was now reduced to despair. The 
 cries of distress from people thrown out of work 
 every where assailed his ears. He knew not 
 where to hide his shame and mortification till 
 the eventful week had expired, when he has- 
 tened to the Fairy, threw himself on his knees, 
 and implored her to reverse the fatal decree, 
 and to bring back things to what they had been 
 before. The light wand once more waved in 
 the air, but in a direction opposite to that in 
 which it before moved; and immediately the 
 stately mansion rose from the lowly cottage ; 
 the heavy teams began to prance and snort, 
 and shook their clumsy harness till they became 
 elegant trappings : but most of all was it de- 
 lightful to see the turned-off workmen running 
 to their looms and their spindles ; the young 
 girls and old women enchanted to regain pos- 
 b 4 
 
8 
 
 THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 session of their lost lace-cushions, on which 
 they depended for a livelihood ; and every thing 
 offering a prospect of wealth and happiness, 
 compared to the week of misery they had passed 
 through. 
 
 John grew wise by this lesson ; and, when- 
 ever any one complained of the hardness of the 
 times, and laid it to the score of the expenses 
 of the rich, took upon him to prove that the 
 poor were gainers, not losers, by luxuries ; and 
 when argument failed to convince his hearers, 
 he related his wonderful tale. One night at 
 the public house, Bob Scarecrow, who was one 
 of the listeners, cried out, “ Ay, it is all fine 
 talk, folks being turned out of work if there 
 were no luxuries ; but for his part he knew it, 
 to his cost, that he at least lost his livelihood 
 because his master spent his all in luxuries. 
 The young lord whom he served as gamekeeper 
 set no bounds to his extravagance, until he had 
 not a farthing left ; and then his huntsmen, his 
 hounds, his gamekeeper, and his laced livery- 
 servants, were all sent off together ! Now, I 
 should be glad to know, honest John,” added 
 Bob, “ whether we lost our places because there 
 was too much luxury, or too little?” John 
 felt that there was some truth in what Bob 
 said ; but he was unwilling to give up the point. 
 At length a bright thought struck him, and he 
 
THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 9 
 
 triumphantly exclaimed, “ Too few , Bob ! why, 
 don’t you see, that as long as your master spent 
 his money too freely in luxuries, you kept your 
 places, and when he was ruined and spent no 
 more, you were turned off?” 
 
 Bob, who was a sharp fellow, saw the weak- 
 ness of John’s argument, and replied, “ That it 
 was neither more nor less than a quibble, fit for 
 a pettifogging lawyer ; for,” said he, “ suppose 
 that every man of substance were to spend his 
 all, and come to ruin, a pretty plight we poor 
 folks should be in ; and you can’t deny, that, if 
 the rich lived with prudence, and spent only 
 what they could afford, they would continue to 
 keep us in employment.” John felt convinced ; 
 and he was above disowning it. “ I grant 
 you,” said he, u that there may be too much 
 luxury as well as too little, as was the case with 
 your young lord. But then you must allow, 
 that if a man don’t spend more than he can 
 afford, that is, if he don’t injure himself we have 
 no reason to complain of his luxuries, whatever 
 they may be, because they give us work, and 
 that not for a short time, after which we are 
 turned off, as was your case, but regularly and 
 for a continuance.” 
 
 John now went home, satisfied that the ex- 
 penses of the rich could not harm the poor, 
 unless the expenses first injured the rich them- 
 
10 
 
 THE RICH AND THE POOR. 
 
 selves. No bad safeguard, thought he ; and as 
 he trudged on, pondering it in his mind, he 
 came to this conclusion : — 
 
 “ Why then, after all, the rich and the poor 
 have but one and the same interest — that is 
 very strange ! I always thought they had been 
 as wide apart as the east is from the west ! But 
 now I am convinced that the comforts of the 
 poor are derived from the riches of the rich.” 
 
WAGES. 
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 John Hopkins did not soon forget this lesson, 
 though he was far from deriving all the benefit 
 from it that he ought. He acknowledged that 
 he had not hit upon the right remedy ; but, 
 after having long turned the subject in his 
 mind, and talked it o\^er with his neighbours, 
 he came at length to this conclusion : — “ Let 
 the rich have as many luxuries as they can pay 
 for ; but let them give us higher wages for our 
 labour. It is by the sweat of our brow, and by 
 the work of our hands, that every thing is pro- 
 duced. Why, the rich would not have even 
 bread to put into their mouths, unless we 
 ploughed the ground and sowed the seed for 
 them ; so it is but fair that we should be better 
 paid for our services. If wages were doubled, 
 we should be as well off again as we are now; 
 and the rich would be but a trifle the poorer, 
 that is all ; for double wages would be nothing 
 for a man who is rolling in wealth to pay ; and 
 
12 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 yet it would be a mighty matter for us poor fel- 
 lows to receive.” 
 
 Chuckling over this discovery, John sets off* 
 for the abode of the Fairy, and begs her, with 
 the stroke of her wand, to cause wages to be 
 doubled. “ Are you sure,” enquired the Fairy, 
 ic that you will have no reason to repent of this 
 request if I should grant it?” — “ No, no,” 
 said John, “ I cannot be mistaken ; for I have 
 considered the matter thoroughly.” — “ Well, 
 then,” replied she, “ we will make the trial. 
 But it shall be for three months only. After 
 that time we shall see whether you wish your 
 present scheme to be continued.” 
 
 As John was returning home, he could not 
 help thinking that, this time at least, he should 
 not meet with a discontented reception from 
 his wife ; yet, as he opened the door of his 
 cottage, he looked rather anxiously in her face : 
 — it beamed with joy. 66 Good news for you, 
 husband ! ” cried she ; cc the bailiff has been here 
 ( to pay your week’s wages ; and see, he has given 
 me all this money; for he says there’s a new 
 law in the land, and every one must pay 
 double wages ! ” John thanked the Fairy in his 
 heart, for the expedition she had used in com- 
 plying with his wishes. The news soon spread 
 through the village : all received double wages ; 
 and the rejoicing was universal. 
 
WAGES. 
 
 13 
 
 John was resolved to make a holyday ; so, 
 next market day, instead of sending his wife, he 
 proposed to go to market himself, and to lay out 
 his store of money in clothes for his ragged 
 children. This was readily agreed to, provided 
 he would take a basket of plums and a bundle 
 of straw-plait which one of his little girls had 
 made, and sell them. To market he went; and 
 what was his delight to learn that plums and 
 straw-plait had risen considerably in price. He 
 little dreamed that this was owing to his good 
 offices; but, on enquiring the cause, he was told 
 that, the condition of the labouring classes being 
 so much bettered by their increased wages, they 
 could afford to buy new straw bonnets ; so that 
 straw-plait was very much in demand, and 
 would fetch a good price. “ I should not give 
 you so much for it,” said the bonnet-maker, “ if 
 I was not sure that I could sell my bonnets at 
 a higher price, now there is such a demand for 
 them.” 
 
 66 And why are plums risen in price?” en- 
 quired John of the fruiterer. “ Because I have 
 none left,” replied he. 66 I had as fine a store 
 of plums this morning as ever I had any market 
 day ; but there has been such a swarm of young 
 brats with their halfpence to buy them, that 
 they were all sold by nine o’clock ; for, do you 
 see, now* the fathers get double wages, they have 
 
14 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 not the heart to deny their children a halfpenny 
 to buy fruit. I began selling my plums at four 
 a penny ; but when I found they were likely to 
 fall short, I would not let the urchins have more 
 than three for a penny ; and as for your basket, 
 Hopkins, I mean to sell it at two a penny ; so 
 you see I can afford to give you a good price 
 for it.” John did not quite understand this; 
 “ but it shows,” thought he, “ that I have hit 
 the right nail on the head at last. It seems 
 that as much unforeseen good comes of the 
 Fairy’s wand, this time, as there came unfore- 
 seen bad luck before.” And now that he had 
 sold his plums and his plait, he determined to 
 go to the woollen-draper’s to buy cloth for his 
 children’s jackets. He looked rather blank 
 when, on entering, he found that cloth had risen 
 in price, and was two shillings a yard dearer 
 than before. He expressed his surprise. “ Why, 
 there’s no end to my customers this market 
 day,” said the draper. “ I verily believe half 
 the town means to have new coats, and I have 
 not near cloth enough to furnish them all : so 
 those that will have it must pay the price I ask, 
 or go without .” — “ That ’s not fair, to my 
 mind,” cried John : “ the cloth cost you no 
 more than it did last market day ; so you can 
 afford to sell it as cheap as you did then.” — 
 “ Perhaps I could,” replied the woollen-draper ; 
 
WAGES. 
 
 15 
 
 “ but, since I can get more for it, I will. Don’t 
 you know, Hopkins, that, when corn falls short 
 at market, the price rises? When there is 
 more of an article to be had than is wanted, 
 why you must sell it for what you can get, 
 though you may chance to make a loss instead 
 of a gain ; but when there is less to be sold 
 than is wanted, why you must sell it at an ad- 
 vanced price. That is my case now: many 
 more want the cloth than I can supply ; so, why 
 should I let you have it rather than another, 
 unless you pay me a better price? We must 
 make hay while the sun shines.” — <c To be 
 sure,” said John to himself : “ I sold my plums 
 and my plait dearer than last market day, 
 though they stood me in no more ; and it ’s na- 
 tural enough the draper should do the same. 
 Well,” said he, addressing the draper, “ it’s a 
 bright sunshine, and we are all right to make 
 the most of it ; but, as my boys can wait a bit 
 longer for their coats, I shall stop till you lay 
 in a new stock of cloth, and then it will be 
 cheaper.” — “ I won’t promise you that,” replied 
 the draper. “ There ’s no saying what will 
 come of these double wages ; it ’s such an out 
 of the w T ay thing. It looks fair enough, to be 
 sure ; but all is not gold that glitters, as you 
 know, Hopkins.” 
 
 “ But when you have a fresh supply, and 
 
16 - 
 
 wages. 
 
 plenty of cloth for all the customers that may 
 come, I see no reason why it should be dearer.” 
 “ I have not had time to turn it well in my 
 mind; but it seems to me, that when I have 
 sold my stock on hand, and go to the manu- 
 facturer for more, he will not let me have it on 
 the same terms, seeing there is such a demand 
 for cloth, and that I sell it at an advanced price. 
 Besides,” continued he, rubbing his forehead, 
 “ a thought just comes across me, — he can’t 
 afford to let me have the goods so cheap ; for, 
 since he is obliged to pay his workmen double 
 wages, the cloth must stand him in much more ; 
 and if he can’t get it back from the shopkeeper, 
 why the factory must go to ruin. Is it not so, 
 Hopkins?” — “ It looks very like it,” replied 
 Hopkins, thoughtfully. “ Well, then,” con- 
 tinued the draper, “ it ’s impossible for me to 
 say whether the manufacturer will be able to 
 sell his cloth higher, or whether he will be 
 ruined : all I know is, that if I must pay him a 
 higher price for his cloth, I must get it back 
 from my customers, or I may as well shut up 
 shop ; ay, and better too ; for I should be losing 
 instead of making money.” — “ Well, then,” 
 said Hopkins, <{ mayhap I had as well buy the 
 cloth now, dear as it is.” Having made his 
 purchases, he found that he had scarcely money 
 enough to pay for them/ He w r as sadly disap- 
 
WAGES. 
 
 17 
 
 pointed ; for he had flattered himself, that, what 
 with the high price he had got for his plums and 
 his plait, and what with the double wages he 
 had received, he might contrive to eke out the 
 money, so as to buy himself a new smock-frock, 
 of which he stood much in need : but that was 
 now out of the question. 
 
 His wife and children impatiently waited his 
 return. The little ones had strolled to the end 
 of the lane, in hopes of seeing him ; and soon 
 ran home with the glad tidings that “ father 
 was in sight, with a great big bundle on his 
 shoulders.” Jenny had been promised a new 
 thimble, and Jem a penny whistle, if any money 
 was left after the more necessary purchases had 
 been made. John at length arrived ; and, after 
 wiping his brows, he began by boasting of the 
 high price he had got for the basket of plums 
 and the bundle of plait ; whereupon his wife 
 gave him a hearty kiss, calling him “ a good 
 man as he was;” and the children crowded 
 round his knees, and began to untie the bundle 
 he had brought home. The contents fell far 
 short of their expectations ; and they rummaged 
 in vain for the presents they had expected. 
 Then followed the indispensable explanation of 
 the rise in price of cloth as well as of other 
 goods. “ Humph ! ” cried the good wife, “ if 
 we must pay so much more for every thing we 
 c 
 
18 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 have to buy, I don’t see how we shall be any 
 the better for the double wages we get.” — 
 66 Well, but,” retorted her husband, “it’s not 
 only me, but Dick and Sally at the factory get 
 double wages too ; so there ’s no room to com- 
 plain, wife ; for, if our means run short, they 
 would be willing and able to lend us a helping 
 hand.” 
 
 Some time after Dick came home : but, 
 alas ! far from lending a hand, it was to tell the 
 sad news of his being discharged from the 
 factory. iC Why, how’s this, Dick?” said his 
 father ; “ were not you satisfied with double 
 wages?” — “ I had little need to be so,” replied 
 he ; “ double wages one week, and none at all 
 the next : I would rather by half have had the 
 common wages without being turned off.” — 
 “ But why should you be turned off, if you did 
 your duty ?” — “ Oh, for that matter, there was 
 no fault found with me ; only the master had 
 not enough to pay us all, so he discharged half 
 his men, and it fell to my lot to be one of the 
 number.” 
 
 “ Well, but,” said John, “ by turning off half 
 his men, he can get only half the work done ; 
 and then how can he supply the shopkeepers?” 
 — 66 He says the shopkeepers won’t want so 
 much goods as they did before this new law 
 was made.” 
 
WAGES. 
 
 19 
 
 66 There he ’s wrong,” cried John, u to my 
 certain knowledge : for it’s scarce a month 
 back that the draper told me he sold a deal 
 more cloth than he did before the rise of wages, 
 though the price was higher by two shillings a 
 yard.” 
 
 “ That was only just a spirt at first,” cried 
 Dick. “ When folks first got their double 
 wages, they were so flush of money, they 
 thought there would be no end to their riches ; 
 but when they came to find that so many buyers 
 made prices rise, (and more especially when 
 half their families were turned out of work, and 
 they had their children to support idle,) they 
 saw that there were more outgoings than in- 
 
 o o 
 
 comings ; and that they had enough to do to 
 provide food, without furbishing themselves out 
 with new clothes.” 
 
 Hopkins felt conscience-struck : he looked 
 blank, and had not a word to say for himself. 
 u No, no,” continued Dick : “ brisk as the cloth 
 trade was at first, it’s slack enough now, and 
 prices are falling apace.” 
 
 “ That I know to my cost,” quoth Dame 
 Hopkins. 46 Why, last market day I could not 
 sell my fruit, nor Jenny’s plait, for much more 
 than half you got for it, John, when wages first 
 rose. Folks begin to find they have no such 
 store of spare money as they thought for, to 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 lay out in new bonnets, or to give their children 
 to buy fruit.” 
 
 The fall in price, John thought, was all in 
 his favour ; for he had more to buy than to sell. 
 This made him pluck up courage; and he said, 
 — “ Why, Dick, we must be better for things 
 cTftning round to their natural price, so as wages 
 don’t lower too ; but I should have done wiser 
 to have waited, and have bought the boys’ 
 jackets later.” — “ Wiser still not to have bought 
 them at all,” replied his son ; “ and that ’s what 
 you would have done had you waited ; for times 
 will fall heavy on us now, father, so far as I can 
 see.” 
 
 “ Never be disheartened, lad,” cried Hopkins, 
 giving his son an encouraging thump on the 
 back ; u you see things all askance, because of 
 being turned off at the factory : but surely,” 
 said he, with a hesitation in his voice, which he 
 would not let out in words, “ such high wages 
 must be a good thing.” — 66 Much good may it 
 do those that get them,” muttered Dick, sulkily. 
 “ If things don’t change, the manufacturers 
 will all be bankrupts ; and then there will be 
 work neither at fifteen shillings nor at thirty. 
 There ’s well-nigh half the machines at our fac- 
 tory going to wreck and ruin by standing idle ; 
 and one of the great steam-engines, that cost 
 master a pow r er of money, lying just like dead. 
 
WAGES. 
 
 21 
 
 But how is he to help it, while the wages eat 
 up all his profits ? ay, and more too ! so, the less 
 he works the better ; for it ’s my belief he sells 
 at a clear loss.” 
 
 “ One would think this new law was made 
 to mock us,” said the wife : “ for it promises 
 fair, and just makes fools of us for believing it.” 
 “ It’s a rare lesson, however,” exclaimed Hop- 
 kins, with a sigh ; u for it shows that a rise of 
 wages is full of danger and mischief.” 
 
 “ I don’t agree with you, there, father,” 
 cried Dick : “ a rise of wages, in a fair and 
 natural way, is a very good thing. Last year, 
 when our master had more orders than he could 
 well get done, he raised the wages, so as to get 
 more hands ; and people came flocking in from 
 all quarters, and quitting other employ, where 
 they did not get so much. Then he could 
 afford to pay us all well, because trade was 
 brisk, and he got good profits. When wages 
 rise because there is a greater demand for 
 workmen, we are all the better for it, master and 
 man too; but when they rise from a foolish and 
 arbitrary law, it does us all harm instead of 
 good; and it is to be hoped that those who 
 made it will soon see the folly of it, and bring 
 us back to the natural wages.” 
 
 This observation came home to poor John, 
 who kept his own secret, but swore in his heart 
 c 3 
 
22 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 that, when once out of this scrape, he would 
 never more apply to the Fairy. A few weeks 
 after, Sally, who worked at the silk mills, came 
 home with the same story as her brother. “ So, 
 here we are, saddled with two more children, ” 
 cried his wife ; “ and this comes of high wages !” 
 
 “ Well, at least I have got high wages to 
 maintain ’em,” replied John, who was still un- 
 willing to confess that he had been in the 
 wrong. 
 
 As he was speaking, the bailiff entered the 
 door. “ Good morrow to you, John,” said he : 
 
 — “ why, methinks you do not look in such 
 glee as you did last month, about the rise of 
 wages.” — “ Nor have I cause,” muttered John : 
 “ see, here are two of my grown children sent 
 home to me, out of work. But, mayhap,” added 
 he, brightening up at the thought, — “ mayhap 
 you, Master Barnes, might get ’em some w r ork 
 at the farm. Though they are not used to 
 that kind of labour, I ’m sure they wall turn 
 their hand to it, and thank ye heartily to boot.” 
 
 — “ Ah ! I might have given ’em work before 
 this change,” answered the bailiff; “ but my 
 master can’t afford to pay ’em double wages ; 
 and the new law won’t allow us to give less. 
 To say the truth, I am now come upon a very 
 different errand ; for, d’ ye see, we are trying, 
 instead of increasing the number of our work- 
 
WAGES. 
 
 23 
 
 men, to do what we can to reduce them. My 
 master says he has too great a respect for you, 
 John, to turn you off : you have worked nigh a 
 score of years for him, and have got such a large 
 family to maintain.” — “ Thank his honour, 
 kindly,” said John. “ I have worked for him 
 long and hard, too, Master Barnes. I ’m sure 
 I have followed the precepts of the Bible, and 
 earned my bread by the sweat of my brow. 
 
 Thank his honour ” — “ Ay, but, John,” 
 
 interrupted the bailiff, “ you stopped my mouth 
 with your thanks before you had heard me out. 
 You know, however willing the squire may be, 
 he can’t coin money; so, what is he to do? 
 Now, this is what he has thought of: — he says 
 he will employ you three days of the week, 
 instead of six.” — “ And what am I to do the 
 other three?” asked John. — “ Why, you must 
 seek for work elsewhere.” — u Seek, indeed, I 
 may ; but I shall not find,” quoth John. “ Why, 
 there ’s Dick and Sally both turned adrift ; and 
 if they can’t find work, an old man like me 
 stands no chance.” — “ Well,” said the bailiff, 
 66 if you sit with your hands across three days 
 of the week, you are as well paid for the three 
 others as you used to be for the whole week : 
 besides, his honour is stretching a point for 
 your sake, John ; for, d’ ye see, he pays you the 
 same wages a week as before, and yet he will 
 c 4 
 
24 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 have only half the work done.” John thought 
 that but poor comfort, when he saw he had two 
 children more on his hands. The bailiff took 
 his departure; and, as he shut the door, the 
 poor wife lifted up her hands, fetched a deep 
 sigh, and said, — “ Ah, well-a-day ! how little 
 we understand these matters : who would not 
 have thought that, when the law obliged the 
 rich to pay us double wages, it would have 
 made us much richer, and made them only a 
 trifle poorer ? but now it seems it will bring us 
 all to ruin together.” 
 
 “ Never fear,” said John, 66 it is the Fairy’s 
 doing ; it will be all over at the end of three 
 months, and two of them are gone already.” 
 
 So it was. At the expiration of three months 
 the influence of the Fairy’s wand ceased, wages 
 returned to their usual rate, Dick and Sally 
 were restored to their work at the mills and 
 the factory, and John laboured with more good 
 will six days of the week than he had done 
 when he was "employed only three, though at 
 double wages. 
 
 Moreover, he had learnt how dangerous it 
 was to meddle with things he did not under- 
 stand; and he came to a firm resolution uf never 
 more applying to the fairy, but to endeavour to 
 get clearer ideas on such matters. This he was 
 in some measure enabled to do through his son 
 
WAGES. 
 
 25 
 
 Dick, during the time he remained at home; 
 for Dick working at a factory, and living in a 
 town, had many more opportunities of picking 
 up knowledge than a country labourer, whose 
 life is but lonely. Factory men have so deep 
 an interest in the rise and fall of wages, that 
 they are in the habit of talking the matter over, 
 till at last they get pretty good notions on the 
 subject. They are aware that their own em- 
 ployment depends on the manufacturer being 
 able to sell his goods with profit : they see, 
 therefore, that the prosperity of the master and 
 his workmen go hand in hand. John was sur- 
 prised that Dick should turn out so knowing 
 a lad, as he had had very little schooling. 
 Dick observed, that working in a factory was 
 somewhat like going to school, only that they 
 learnt by talking instead of reading. 44 Well, 
 but I should have thought your talk would 
 have run on merrier matters, and that you 
 would not have worried your brains with such 
 difficult subjects,” said John. — “Men are sharp- 
 witted, father, when their interest is at stake; 
 and if it ’s fit that they should learn their calling, 
 it’s just as fit that they should be able to judge 
 whether their calling goes on well or ill, and 
 the reason why and wherefore.” 
 
 44 It’s not all good that’s learnt by your talk 
 in a factory, Dick. I ’ve heard say that one 
 
26 
 
 WAGES. 
 
 bad man will corrupt a whole factory, just as 
 one rotten apple will infect the whole heap.” — 
 “ It ’s no such thing,” replied Dick ; “ when 
 men can earn their livelihood fairly and ho- 
 nestly, they are ready enough to go on in the 
 straight road : it *s want and wretchedness that 
 lead them into the crooked paths, you may take 
 my word for it.” 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 As Hopkins was sitting one evening at his 
 cottage door smoking his pipe, and his children 
 gamboling around him, an old pedlar came up, 
 and offered his little wares for sale : their pur- 
 chases were small, for small were their means; 
 but as the poor man seemed much tired, they 
 offered him a seat and some refreshment. — 
 “ It is a weary length of way I am come,” said 
 the old man ; “ and where can I get a night’s 
 lodging?” — “ I wish I had one to give you,” 
 replied Hopkins, “ but we are overcrowded 
 with the family already [; however, there ’s a bit 
 of an outhouse behind, where I could make you 
 up a bed of clean straw, with a warm coverlid, 
 if N that would serve your turn ?” — “ Ay, and a 
 blessing to you for it,” replied the pedlar; 
 “ and if it will please these young ones, I can 
 tell them a story in return, to while away the 
 evening.” — Upon this all the children crowded 
 round him, crying out, “ A story ! a story ! ” — 
 “ I hope it will be a wonderful one,” said Tom, 
 " about giants or fairies, and such like.” — 
 
28 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 u Pooh, pooh, nonsense,” cried Jenny ; “ I like 
 a true story better by half.” — “ True or false,” 
 said Hopkins, “ I care not, so as there be but 
 some sense in it, that one may learn somewhat 
 by it.” — “ Oh pray,” cried little Betsy, “tell 
 us a pretty story like those in my book of fables ; 
 but none of the moral at the end, if you please, 
 that is always so stupid.” — “ I fear I shall have 
 a hard matter to satisfy you all,” said the old 
 man : one is for the marvellous, another for 
 truth, and another good sense, and this little 
 one,” said he, patting her head, “ likes a fable. 
 Well,” said he, “ I will do my best to suit your 
 tastes.” So, after clearing his throat, he began 
 thus : — 
 
 “ A long while ago, when the times were no 
 better than they are now, (and perhaps worse, 
 for aught I know,) a poor labouring man, en- 
 cumbered with a large family of young children, 
 resolved to go and seek his fortune beyond seas. 
 Several of his neighbours, who felt the same 
 distress, had joined together to sell what little 
 they had in order to fit themselves out and pay 
 their passage to one of the foreign colonies, 
 where they were told they might have farms of 
 their own just for a mere nothing ; and our 
 good man Jobson thought he could not do better 
 than take his wife and family thither. So off 
 they all set for Liverpool, where they embarked 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 29 
 
 for- , I cannot recollect the name of the 
 
 place, but it matters not, for the poor folks 
 never reached it ! When they had been at sea 
 some weeks, far away from land, and nothing 
 but wide waters all around them, there arose a 
 great storm, which drove the ship out beyond 
 all reckoning; and the sailors, do what they 
 would, could never manage her ; so she drifted 
 before the wind for several days and nights, 
 and at last struck upon a rocky shore, and was 
 wrecked. The poor folks had much ado to 
 save their lives ; they did so, however ; and were 
 somewhat comforted when they saw that the 
 land to which they had escaped was a pleasant, 
 fruitful country. They found no inhabitants. 
 So much the better, thought they : we shall 
 have it all to ourselves ; and we may live as 
 happily here as we could do in the colony, if we 
 can but get our farming tools from the wreck, 
 and a few clothes. 6 And some of the pots and 
 pans for cooking/ cried the women. 6 Oh, pray 
 remember the poor hens in the coop,’ hallooed 
 out one of the children, as the men were trudging 
 off’ to the wreck to see what they could save. 
 They brought ashore much more than they ex- 
 pected ; and, to make short of my story, they 
 settled themselves pretty comfortably : in the 
 course of a year each of the families had a neat 
 log-house and a little garden of vegetables ; fruit 
 
30 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 they found in abundance growing wild ; and as 
 it was a hot climate, there were grapes, and figs, 
 and cocoa nuts, and a number of fruits, the names 
 of which they did not know. They had sown 
 corn, and had got in a fine crop, enough for them 
 all ; but the difficulty was to turn it into flour for 
 bread. They had no other means than by 
 bruising it between two stones, for it could hardly 
 be called grinding ; and it took up so much 
 time and labour, that Jobson, who had a large 
 family to feed, found it a hard matter to make 
 all ends meet.” 
 
 “ Well, but there ’s nothing wonderful in this 
 story,” said Tom : “ I hope you will come to a 
 ghost, or a giant, or a fairy soon.” 
 
 “ All in good time, my lad,” replied the 
 pedlar ; “ youth must have patience with old 
 age ; we cannot scamper on so fast as you do : 
 but it ’s coming.” Upon hearing this the chil- 
 dren all crowded still closer around him. — 
 “ Well, one day as Jobson was taking a stroll 
 over the new country, and thinking how he 
 wished his boys were big enough to assist him 
 in his work (for he felt well-nigh worn * out 
 himself), he came to a valley where he had 
 never been before ; a river wound through it, 
 overshaded with trees ; and it was so beautiful, 
 that he could not find in his heart to turn back ; 
 so he went on and on, till at last he came within 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 31 
 
 sight of an object that made him start back and 
 shudder.” 
 
 “ Oh, here it’s coming!” cried Tom, clapping 
 his hands : “ what was it ? it could not be a fairy, 
 for that would never have frightened him.” 
 
 “ It was as little like a fairy,” said the pedlar, 
 “ as any thing well could be. It was an enormous 
 giant, stretched at his whole length upon the 
 ground. Jobson would have fled; but the giant’s 
 eyes were shut, so that he appeared to be asleep; 
 and he looked so harmless and good-humoured, 
 that Jobson stood gazing on him till his fear was 
 nearly over. He was clad in a robe of dazzling 
 brightness where the sun shone upon it, but the 
 greater part was shaded by the trees ; and it 
 reflected all their different colours, which made 
 it look like a green changing silk. As Jobson 
 stood, lost in amazement, the giant opened his 
 eyes, and turned towards him with a good- 
 humoured smile.” 
 
 “ Then he was not a wicked giant?” said 
 Betsy. 
 
 “ Far from it,” replied the old man. “ Still, 
 when Jobson saw that he was awake, and 
 stretching himself as if he was going to rise, 
 he took to his heels; but the giant remained 
 quietly stretched on the grass, and called after 
 him in a tone of voice so gentle, that Jobson 
 was tempted to stop. 6 Fear me not, good man, 
 
32 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 because I am strong and powerful ; I am not 
 cruel, and will do you no harm. 1 Jobson hesi- 
 tated : but the giant looked so kind-hearted, 
 that he felt inclined to trust to his words, and, 
 step by step, he approached. 4 Why should 
 you fear me because of my size?’ said the 
 giant : 6 you are not afraid of yonder hill, which 
 is bigger than I am/ — 6 Ay, but you are alive,’ 
 replied Jobson, ‘ and I have read of giants being 
 very wicked. It is true I never saw r one before. 
 Indeed, till now, I thought they were only idle 
 stories made to amuse children.’ — 6 The wicked 
 giants you have read of are so,’ replied he ; ‘ but 
 there are real giants in nature, who, far from 
 being inclined to evil, are willing to do all the 
 good to mankind that lies in their power; and 
 I am one of these.’ — 6 Then a deal of good you 
 can do,’ replied Jobson ; 5 for you must be as 
 strong as Samson.’ — He then began to cast 
 over in his mind what good the giant might do 
 him, seeing he was so ready; for, thought he, if 
 he is willing to work, he can do more in a day 
 than I can in a month ; so I’ll e’en make bold to 
 ask him the question. 6 I am ready to do any 
 work you will set me ; but I must tell you, that, 
 not having been in the habit of w orking in this 
 desert island, I shall require some teaching in 
 order to know r how to set about it.’ — * If that is 
 all,’ said Jobson, 6 1 can teach you any work you 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 33 
 
 would like to do.’ But a difficulty occurred to 
 him ; he concluded that the giant would require 
 to be paid in proportion to the work he did ; 
 and he asked, with some anxiety, what wages 
 he would expect. 6 Wages ! ’ replied the giant, 
 smiling : 6 I cannot expect any ; I do not even 
 know what wages mean.’ Jobson was ready to 
 leap for joy at the idea of getting a labourer 
 who could do the work of a hundred men with- 
 out wages ; and he was hurrying away to tell 
 his wife the good news, when the giant said, c If 
 you will let me carry you home, it will save 
 you the trouble of walking, and you will be 
 there much sooner.’ Jobson rather hung back ; 
 yet, not liking to show any distrust of one who 
 was willing to do him so much good, he con- 
 sented. 6 You may think it strange,’ said the 
 giant ; ‘ but as I never carried any one before, 
 you must show me how to do it.’ — 6 He seems 
 rather stupid,’ thought Jobson : 6 however, it is 
 well he takes so little upon himself, and is so 
 ready to be taught.’ — ‘ Will you mount upon 
 my back? or shall I carry you in my arms?’ 
 continued the giant. Jobson was very glad to 
 have the option, for he had much rather mount 
 him like a horse, than be carried in his arms 
 like a baby. Besides, if the truth must be told, 
 he was still rather fearful of seeing the giant 
 stand upright, and of being folded in his arms : 
 
34 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 having, therefore, first saddled him with some 
 planks of wood, to make a comfortable seat, and 
 having cut himself a long pole, which might 
 serve to hasten his pace in case of need, he 
 desired him to take the road homewards. The 
 giant obeyed : he neither walked nor trotted, 
 but glided on so smoothly, that, though he went 
 at a pretty brisk pace, Jobson felt scarcely any 
 motion. In a short time they reached the cot- 
 tage. But you may imagine the fright of 
 Dame Jobson, and all her little crew, when they 
 beheld him mounted on such an enormous 
 animal : the children ran screaming away, as if 
 they had seen a wild beast, and the poor woman 
 wTung her hands in despair, and fell a-crying ; 
 then she threw herself at the feet of the giant, 
 begging him to set her dear husband at liberty. 
 4 He is quite free,’ said the giant; 6 I only 
 brought him home to save him the fatigue of 
 walking ; — and now, good woman, if there is 
 any thing I can do for you, you need but tell 
 me ; for I ask no better than to be busy.’ The 
 dame courtesied, and trembled, and wiped her 
 eyes, and tried to smile ; but she was so as- 
 tounded with wonder at the sight of this mon- 
 strous giant, and so surprised at his good-nature, 
 that she began to doubt whether she was in 
 her right senses. And when her husband 
 talked to her, and told her all that had passed 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 35 
 
 between them, and how much the giant had 
 promised to do for them, she lifted up her hands 
 and eyes, and said she would try to believe it, 
 but she thought it was only too good to be 
 true. In the mean while the children, who 
 had scampered away, when they saw their 
 father and mother in friendly talk with the 
 giant, ventured gently to return. ‘ Look at his 
 legs,’ cried little Jack; 4 1 am sure I could not 
 reach round the calf/ — c If he stood upright, 
 he might gather the cocoa-nuts without climb- 
 ing, ’ said Will. As they drew near, they 
 crowded together, as if for defence : but when 
 they saw the giant smile upon them, and heard 
 their father and mother say there was nothing 
 to fear, their terror ceased : for neither father 
 nor mother had ever deceived them, so they had 
 full belief in all they said. Their fright was 
 no sooner over, than they gave way to their 
 curiosity. The giant was still stretched upon 
 the grass ; and in a few minutes the little ones 
 were crawling and climbing all over his huge 
 body, and making a playfellow of him. 
 
 “ In the mean time the father and mother 
 were consulting together how they should 
 manage to lodge and board the giant. * Why, 
 he will want a room bigger than all our house/ 
 said the dame, c and I ’m sure no one can build 
 it but himself: then, as for his food/ continued 
 d 2 
 
36 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 she, 4 he will eat us out of house and home; 
 he will devour a plantation of cabbages and a 
 flitch of bacon at a meal.’ This Jobson had 
 never considered ; and he began to doubt 
 whether, after all, he had made so good a bar- 
 gain as he had supposed. 4 We had best go 
 and speak to the giant, wife,’ said he ; and ac- 
 cordingly they went to enquire what sort of 
 fare he would want. c Nothing more than a 
 draught of fresh water,’ replied he. — ‘ Well, 
 that is very moderate, indeed,’ exclaimed Job- 
 son; 6 neither spirits, nor even malt liquor !’ — 
 ‘ Ay, but for your eating, friend ?’ quoth the 
 wife, who began to tremble for her kitchen. — 
 6 I never eat,’ returned the giant : 6 strong as I 
 am, I require no food, so do not disturb your- 
 selves about that; and as for house-room or 
 bedding, I always lie on the grass when I am 
 not employed.’ You would have thought that 
 Jobson and his wife would have gone wild with 
 joy, when they heard that their powerful la- 
 bourer worked without board, food, or wages ! 
 c Why, we shall no longer w^ant for any thing,’ 
 cried they, c provided he always keeps in this 
 good temper, and ready to work.’ — { We must 
 not overshoot the mark,’ said his wife, 6 but do 
 what we can to make things agreeable to him.’ 
 So they w r ent and told him they should not 
 think of asking him to do w T hat would fatigue 
 him, and begged he w ould work only just w hen 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 37 
 
 he liked. € That depends upon you, my good 
 friends; Tam ready to work whenever you 
 have work to give me : as for fatigue, I do not 
 know what it means .’ — 6 Indeed!’ exclaimed 
 Jobson and his wife : 6 more and more wonder- 
 ful ! So, then, you want no further rest than 
 your night’s sleep ! ’ — ‘I never sleep,’ replied 
 the giant; * and can as easily work the four 
 and twenty hours round as I can a single minute.’ 
 Jobson was lost in astonishment, and overjoyed 
 at his good luck. They now 7 put their heads 
 together to settle what work they should set 
 the giant to do first. 6 He shall begin by 
 bruising the corn that I am so tired of working 
 at,’ cried Jobson ; so he showed him how he 
 used the stones for that purpose. But this 
 proved mere child’s play to the giant; and 
 Jobson thought, if he could but get two large 
 flat stones, such as were used in a mill, the 
 giant would be able to get through much more 
 work. But then the quarry was a long way off,, 
 and when they were cut, how could they ever 
 be got home ? 6 They will be no burthen to me 
 to carry,’ said the giant ; ‘ let us be off.’ Job- 
 son only stayed to fetch his tools, w 7 hich he 
 placed in a sort of large shallow box upon the 
 giant’s shoulders. This served him also for a 
 seat : and carrying the long staff in his hand, 
 away they went to the quarry, where they soon 
 d 3 
 
38 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 cut the stones, which were placed in the box on 
 the giant’s back, and brought home. When 
 the stones were properly arranged, the giant 
 went to work as steadily as if he had done 
 nothing else all his life. At nightfall the happy 
 couple begged him to leave off and take some 
 rest; but they could not persuade him to do so. 
 They went to bed themselves ; but not without 
 first returning thanks to God in their prayers, 
 for having sent them so great a blessing as a 
 labourer who worked both day and night with- 
 out wanting either food or lodging.” — “ And 
 pray what was the name of this wonderful 
 giant?” said Tom, interrupting the pedlar. 
 
 “ Aquajluens ,” replied he. 
 
 “ Oh, what a long hard name!” exclaimed 
 little Betsy ; “ I never heard such a name be- 
 fore.” — “ Giants have not the same sort of 
 names as we men have,” replied the pedlar; 
 “ but I assure you it is a very significant one. 
 However, now let me go on with my story. 
 
 “ The children were awakened in the night 
 by the noise of the giant grinding the corn; 
 and, frightened at the unusual sound, they called 
 to their mother, w T ho told them what it was. 
 And when she saw her husband quietly sleeping 
 by her side, and thought what a world of labour 
 he was spared, she ejaculated a blessing on their 
 new friend before she again fell asleep. The 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 39 
 
 next morning, Aquafluens having ground all 
 the corn, asked for more work ; and whilst 
 Jobson was thinking what he could set him to, 
 he began to wash the house, and carried away 
 all the dirt and filth in a trice. He then took 
 the children down to the water side, played 
 with them for some time, and began teaching 
 them to swim : this delighted them beyond 
 measure ; and when they returned home to 
 breakfast, clean and fresh, and with rosy cheeks 
 and good appetites, they were full of the praises 
 of their playfellow, Aquafluens. In the mean 
 time, Jobson had settled on a task for him : he 
 had long wished to bring home a large tree 
 which had been blown down in the forest, for 
 the purpose of cutting it into planks, in order 
 to floor his cottage, which got damp and muddy 
 in wet weather ; but it was impossible for him 
 either to carry so heavy a burthen, or to cut it 
 into planks. Now nothing was more easy: he 
 slung the tree across the giant’s shoulders, 
 who brought it home without difficulty. Then 
 Jobson showed him how to use the saw : he soon 
 took to it ; and, after some little time, proved a 
 much more exact and regular sawyer than his 
 master. Jobson thought he got on prodigiously 
 with his work ; yet he said to himself, — 6 If I 
 could fasten eight or ten saws together, parallel 
 to each other, with handles at each end, I am 
 d 4 ? 
 
40 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 sure he would be strong enough to pull them 
 backwards and forwards, and to cut eight or 
 ten planks at once.’ The difficulty was to ob- 
 tain such a number of saws. Jobson applied 
 to his neighbours, and agreed to provide them 
 with a stipulated quantity of planks in return 
 for the use of their saws. The fame of the 
 laborious giant had spread throughout the co- 
 lony; and every one was eager to furnish a saw, 
 in order to partake of the benefit of his work. 
 One of the men, who had been bred a car- 
 penter, undertook to arrange the saws in a kind 
 of framework ; others dug out a large saw-pit. 
 This took some time : but when it was accom- 
 plished, and the giant fairly set to work, the 
 whole tree was cut into neat planks in the course 
 of a day. 
 
 “ After Jobson had paid for the use of the 
 saws, there remained planks enough not only 
 to floor his cottage, but to make a door, a set of 
 shelves, and a good-sized table. The carpenter 
 offered to make these things for Jobson, on con- 
 dition that he would allow Aquafluens to grind 
 his corn. This was a bargain advantageous to 
 both parties, and therefore soon agreed upon; 
 and when the rest of the colony saw how com- 
 fortable and tidy Jobson’s cottage was become, 
 they set to felling trees in the forest for the 
 same purpose. Then it was necessary to pay 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 41 
 
 Jobson for Aquafluens’s labour to bring them 
 home and saw them into planks ; for it was not 
 to be expected that Jobson should part with 
 the services of such a workman without com- 
 pensation. Each brought him what he could 
 best spare, or what he thought Jobson most 
 wanted. One came laden with a basket of fish, 
 being part of a draught he had just caught; 
 another brought half of a young kid he had 
 lately shot; another, some wild ducks he had 
 snared ; and so they went on, till Jobson’s cot- 
 tage was so well stored that it might have been 
 taken for the larder of some great inn. One 
 man brought Jobson a purse of money which 
 he had saved from the wreck, and offered to 
 pay him in cash for the use of the giant’s labour. 
 6 Why, my good fellow, what should I do with 
 your money ? it would be of no use to me here; 
 and a guinea would not be half so valuable as 
 these good things which your neighbours have 
 brought me : however, as I have more food 
 than we shall be able to consume for many a 
 day, I will take your money for once ; mayhap, 
 some day or other, it may turn to some use.’ 
 Last of all came a poor widow, who had lost 
 her husband since they were wrecked : she 
 wished much for a floor of planks to keep her 
 children dry and clean; but she had nothing 
 to offer in exchange for the giant’s labour but 
 
 O o 
 
42 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 a basket of potatoes from her little garden. c I 
 shall not take your potatoes, Martha/ cried 
 Jobson, c so carry them back again.’ — 6 Alas !’ 
 said the poor widow, 6 I have nothing else to 
 offer : you know how destitute I am. Jackson 
 has kindly promised to cut me down a tree, if I 
 can obtain the giant’s services to bring it home 
 and saw it into planks ; and I dare say the 
 carpenter would lend me a hand, some leisure 
 day, to lay down the floor.’ — c And do you 
 think I am the only one who will not give a 
 turn to a poor neighbour without reward?’ 
 muttered Jobson, half sulkily. 6 Go your ways, 
 my good woman : bid Jackson cut down your 
 tree; and, as soon as that is done, Aquafluens 
 shall take it in hand.’ The poor woman thanked 
 him with tears in her eyes; and away she 
 trudged with her load of potatoes, which, to 
 her, felt lighter than if she had carried back the 
 basket empty ; so pleased was she to have them 
 to dress for her children’s dinner. 
 
 “ There were two men still loitering about 
 the door of Jobson’s cottage, who would gladly 
 have got the use of the giant’s services; but, 
 having always been idle fellows, who had done 
 no more than scrape together the bare neces- 
 saries of life, they had not a single thing to offer 
 in return. ‘ If so, you had as well be gone,’ 
 said Jobson ; c the giant does not work to en- 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 43 
 
 courage idleness, I promise you.’ — 6 What can 
 we do?’ replied one of them; 6 if we have got 
 nothing, we can give nothing/ — 6 You have, 
 both of you, got a good pair of arms ; and if you 
 had made a right use of them, you would not 
 have Come empty-handed now/ — Jobson’s wife, 
 knowing they had each of them a wife and 
 children, could not but have a fellow-feeling 
 towards them. — 4 You have still got your arms,’ 
 said she ; 6 and if you will use them for us for 
 a time, I’ll venture to say my good man will 
 lend you the giant’s services/ — c But,’ said 
 Jobson, i whilst we have the giant to work for 
 us, what need have we of the help of others ?’ 
 — c There is a power of things Aquafluens can- 
 not do, you well know, Jobson ; and have not 
 I many a time heard you say that he does his 
 work so fast, that it’s more than you can do to 
 get it ready for him : now, why should not you, 
 husband, take your ease a bit, and let others 
 prepare the work for him ? ’ — 6 That ’s true 
 enough,’ replied he ; c seeing we are so well to ( 
 do in the world, there’s no manner of reason 
 why I should slave myself. But then,’ added 
 he, 6 I doubt whether I can trust these idle 
 fellows/ — 4 You may give an eye to them, and 
 see that they mind what they are set about: 
 besides,’ added she, 6 1 sadly want a set of large 
 baskets to keep the store of good things our 
 
44 ? 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 neighbours bring us.’ So it was agreed that 
 the giant was to grind the corn of these two 
 men, on condition that they should do such 
 work in return as Jobson and his wife required. 
 Then one of them was sent to strip off the bark 
 from the trunk of a tree, and place it in the pit 
 ready for the giant to saw ; whilst the other 
 was despatched to gather slips of willow, and 
 make them into baskets. 
 
 It would be endless to relate all the ad- 
 vantages which the colony reaped from the 
 giant’s labour ; but, though the benefit was 
 general, Jobson, being master of his services, 
 was by far the greatest gainer by them. This 
 led his neighbours, when they had a leisure 
 day, to stroll about the unknown parts of the 
 country, in hopes of meeting with some other 
 giant, whom they might engage in their service. 
 Many were the enquiries made of Aquafluens, 
 whether there were any other giants in the 
 island. c I have a brother,’ replied he ; 6 but 
 we seldom meet : I love to repose in the valleys ; 
 and he, for the most part, frequents the hills.’ 
 — ‘ And can he do as much work as you do?’ 
 — 6 Yes,’ replied Aquafluens, 6 when he is in 
 the humour; but he is more variable in his 
 temper, and now and then is over boisterous. 
 He sometimes disturbs the natural calmness of 
 my temper, and works me up into a rage.’ 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 45 
 
 “ The search of the colonists was long fruit- 
 less : at length, one day, Jackson, climbing a 
 high rock in pursuit of a wild goat, saw a mag- 
 nificent figure seated upon the summit. He 
 could scarcely distinguish the shape, for his 
 eyes w r ere dazzled by its brightness; but what 
 struck him most were two enormous wings, as 
 large as the sails of a ship, but thin and trans- 
 parent as the wings of a gnat. Jackson doubted 
 not but that this was the brother of Aquafluens. 
 Alarmed at the account he had heard of the 
 uncertainty of his temper, he hesitated whether 
 to approach ; the hope of gain, however, tempted 
 him : and, as he drew nearer, he observed that 
 he also had a smiling countenance ; so, muster- 
 ing up courage, he ventured to accost him, and 
 enquire whether he was the person they had so 
 long been in search of; and whether he would 
 engage in his service. ‘ My name is Ventosus,’ 
 cried the winged giant; 6 and I am ready to 
 work for you, if you will let me have my own 
 way. I am not of the low grovelling disposition* 
 of my brother, who plods on with the same 
 uniform pace. I cannot help sometimes laugh- 
 ing at his slow motion ; and I amuse myself with 
 ruffling his placid temper, in order to make him 
 jog on a little faster. I frequently lend him a 
 helping hand when he is laden with a heavy 
 burthen. I perch upon his bosom, and, stretch- 
 
46 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 ing out my wings, I move with such rapidity 
 as almost to lift him from the ground/ Jackson 
 was astonished to hear Aquafluens accused of 
 sluggishness: he told Ventosus what a prodi- 
 gious quantity of work he had done for the 
 colony. ‘ He is a snail compared to me, for all 
 that/ hollowed out Ventosus, who had some- 
 times a very loud voice ; and, to show his ra- 
 pidity, he spread his wings, and was out of 
 sight in a moment. Jackson was sadly fright- 
 ened, lest he should be gone for ever ; but he 
 soon returned, and consented to accompany 
 Jackson home, on condition that he would 
 settle him in an elevated spot of ground. ‘ My 
 house is built on the brow of a hill/ said Jackson, 
 ‘and I shall place yours on the summit/ — ‘Well/ 
 said the giant, ‘ if you will get me a couple of 
 millstones, I will grind you as much corn in 
 one hour as Aquafluens can in two: like my 
 brother, I work without food or wages; but 
 then I have an independent spirit; I cannot 
 bear confinement; I work only when I have a 
 mind to it, and I follow no will but my own/ — 
 
 ‘ This is not such a tractable giant as Aqua- 
 fluens/ thought Jackson ; 6 but he is still more 
 powerful ; so I must try to manage his temper 
 as well as I can/ His wonderful form and the 
 lightness of his wings excited great admiration. 
 Jackson immediately set about building a house 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 47 
 
 for him on the hill, to grind corn in ; and, in the 
 mean time, Ventosus took a flight into the 
 valley, to see his brother. He found him car- 
 rying a heavy load of planks, which he had 
 lately sawed, to their proprietor : they embraced 
 each other; and Ventosus, being in a good 
 humour, said, — ‘ Come, brother, let me help 
 you forward with your load; you will never get 
 on at this lazy pace/ — c Lazy pace !’ exclaimed 
 one of the children, who was seated on the load 
 of wood on the giant’s back ; 4 why, there is no 
 man who can walk half a quarter as fast.’ — 
 
 4 True,’ replied Ventosus ; c but we are not such 
 pigmies as you.’ So he seated himself beside 
 the child, stretched out his wings, and off they 
 flew with a rapidity which at first terrified the 
 boy ; but when he found he was quite safe, he 
 was delighted to sail through the air almost as 
 quickly as a bird flies. When they arrived, 
 and the wood had been unloaded, — 6 Now, 
 brother,’ said Aquafluens, 6 you may help me 
 back again.’ — c Not I,’ replied Ventosus ; c I am ' 
 going on, straight forward : if you choose to 
 go along with me, well and good ; if not, you 
 may make your way home as you please.’ 
 Aquafluens thought this very unkind, and he 
 began to argue with his brother ; but this only led 
 to a dispute : Aquafluens’s temper was at length 
 ruffled : Ventosus flew into a passion ; he strug- 
 
48 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 gled with his brother, and roared louder than 
 any wild beast. Aquafluens then lost all self- 
 command, and actually foamed with rage. The 
 poor child stood trembling with fear at a dis- 
 tance ; he hardly knew the face of his old friend, 
 so much was his countenance distorted by wrath; 
 he looked as if he could almost have swallowed 
 him up. At length Ventosus disengaged him- 
 self from his brother, and flew out of his sight; 
 but his si<dis and moans were still heard afar 
 
 o 
 
 off. Aquafluens also murmured loudly at the 
 ill treatment he had received ; but he composed 
 himself by degrees ; and, taking the boy on his 
 back, slowly returned home. Jackson enquired 
 eagerly after Ventosus ; and when the child told 
 him all that had happened, he was much 
 alarmed for fear Ventosus should never return ; 
 and he was the more disappointed, as he had 
 prepared every thing for him to go to work. 
 Ventosus, however, came back in the night ; 
 and when Jackson went to set him to work in 
 the morning, he found that nearly half the corn 
 was already ground. This was a wonderful 
 performance ; yet, upon the whole, Ventosus 
 did not prove of such use to the colony as his 
 brother. He would carry with astonishing 
 quickness ; but then, he would always carry his 
 own way ; so that it was necessary to know 
 what direction he intended to take, before you 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 49 
 
 could confide any goods to his charge ; and 
 then, when you thought them sure to arrive on 
 account of the rapidity with which they were 
 conveyed, Ventosus would sometimes suddenly 
 chancre his mind, and veer about with the fickle- 
 ness of a weathercock ; so that the goods, 
 instead of reaching their place of destination, 
 were carried to some other place, or brought 
 back to the spot whence they set out. This 
 inconvenience could not happen with regard to 
 grinding corn ; but one, of no less importance, 
 often did occur. Ventosus, when not inclined 
 to work, disappeared, and was nowhere to be 
 found. 
 
 “ The benefit derived from the labour of these 
 two giants had so much improved the state of 
 the colony, that, not only were the cottages 
 well floored, and had good doors and window- 
 shutters, but there was abundance of com- 
 fortable furniture — bedsteads, tables, chairs, 
 chests, and cupboards, as many as could be 
 wished; and the men and women, now that 
 they were relieved from the most laborious 
 work, could employ themselves in making a 
 number of things which, before, they had not 
 time for. It was no wonder, therefore, that the 
 desire to discover more giants was uppermost 
 in men’s minds. In reply to their numerous 
 enquiries, Aquafluens one day said, with a 
 
50 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 sigh, — 6 I know but of one more of our species 
 to be met with in this island, and that is a 
 truant son of my own. It is many years ago 
 since he left me ; and, from that day to this, 
 I have never beheld him. His mother was of 
 the tribe of Salamanders, and he always took to 
 her relations more kindly than to mine ; and, 
 one sultry day, as he was basking in the sun- 
 beams, he rose up of a sudden and disappeared 
 from my sight.’ — c Then there is little chance 
 that any of us should find him,’ cried the colo- 
 nists ; 6 he has probably left the island.’ 
 
 “ W atson, one of the most enterprising among 
 them, was not wholly discouraged by this ac- 
 count : he returned alone to talk to Aquafluens 
 about his runaway son; and learnt that there was 
 reason to believe he had not wholly abandoned 
 the island, as he was known to amuse himself 
 occasionally with bathing in a hot spring which 
 flowed from a rock in a distant valley, where none 
 of the inhabitants had ever been. c The fact 
 is,’ said his father, 6 he takes so much after his 
 mother, that he cannot live but in a very high 
 temperature. These waters are boiling hot ; 
 but this only increases his vigour.’ Watson 
 enquired if he was a powerful workman. 6 I 
 can only speak by report,’ replied the father ; 
 * and from that I should judge that he can do 
 more than I and Ventosus together : the diffi- 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 51 
 
 culty, however, is to catch him and confine him, 
 for he is just the reverse of Ventosus ; he will 
 only work when imprisoned ; then, he uiffers 
 from both of us by being a great feeder.' — ‘Oh ! ’ 
 exclaimed Watson, 4 if so, he loses one of his 
 principal merits : for, if he is near the size of 
 either of you, it will be difficult to satisfy his 
 appetite, and it may cost me as much to procure 
 him food, as I should gain by his labour.’ — 
 4 Never fear,’ returned the giant, 4 the only 
 food he takes is coals or wood, which he devours 
 burning hot, and the more you give him the 
 better he will work, provided, as I said before, 
 he is imprisoned.’ — 4 But where can we meet 
 with a prison large enough to enclose a giant?’ 
 — 4 Why, in regard to his size,’ replied Aqua- 
 fluens, 4 though he sometimes reaches up to 
 the skies, he can, at others, be squeezed into a 
 very small compass, and the smaller the space 
 in which you confine him, the harder he will 
 work.’ — 4 Surely he cannot take a pleasure in 
 being imprisoned,’ said Watson. — 4 Oh, no !’ 
 replied Aquafluens ; 4 he works only with a 
 view to get free ; for he is as fond of his liberty 
 as Ventosus.’ — 4 Well,’ said Watson, 4 if you 
 will help me, perhaps we might manage to get 
 hold of him.’ Accordingly, the next morning 
 they set out together, Watson having purchased 
 the services of Aquafluens by a fine ham which 
 e 2 
 
52 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 he took to Jobson. As they were on their road, 
 Watson quietly seated on the back of the giant, 
 he enquired of him by what means he thought 
 they could confine his son, if they should be so 
 fortunate as to meet with him ? ‘ 1 have brought 
 a vessel for that purpose,’ said the giant, and 
 showed him a bottle; upon which Watson fell a 
 laughing, and declared 6 that he believed Aqua- 
 fluens was making game of him.’ In a short 
 time they arrived at the hot spring. As they 
 drew near, they observed a great body of vapour 
 rising from the pool. — ‘Look, look!’ cried 
 Aquafluens, 6 there he is.’, Watson looked 
 with great eagerness : he saw nothing but a 
 cloud of steam. In a few moments, however, 
 this cloud took the form of an enormous giant, 
 whose head reached almost to the clouds : the 
 figure, as it continued slowly rising, became 
 more and more indistinct, till at length it wholly 
 disappeared. ‘ There he was, indeed ! ’ ex- 
 claimed Watson ; ‘ but he is gone, perhaps fled 
 for ever!’ — ‘No, no!’ replied Aquafluens; 
 
 6 since we know the spot he haunts, we may 
 be more fortunate another time.’ Another time 
 they came, but no giant was to be seen. ‘ So 
 much the better,’ "said Aquafluens ; 6 we must 
 prepare to catch him when he rises ; ’ so he drew 
 out his bottle, which he held with the mouth 
 downwards over the pool, and he gave the cork 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 53 
 
 to Watson, charging him to thrust it into the 
 bottle, as soon as he saw it filled with vapour. 
 Watson had much to do to refrain from laughing 
 at the idea of squeezing a giant into a bottle ; 
 however, he was too intent on an object of such 
 importance to venture to give way to his mirth. 
 In a short time the vapour began to arise ; 
 Aquafluens held the bottle inverted over it, 
 where it appeared thickest : it was soon filled, 
 and well corked ; but Watson could not be per- 
 suaded that they really were in possession of 
 the long-sought treasure. ‘ Well, if he is within 
 the bottle/ said he, 6 he submits to his confine- 
 ment with a very good grace ; he is as quiet as 
 a lamb/ — ‘ Never trust to that/ replied Aqua- 
 fluens ; 6 he is cool now ; but you will see the 
 difference by and by/ When they got home, 
 Aquafluens told him to place him in the chim- 
 ney-corner as near the fire as possible. * Heat 
 is his element/ said he ; 6 and unless you contrive 
 to keep him scalding hot, you will do nothing 
 with him/ Watson, in order to give his new 
 host complete satisfaction, placed him in a pot 
 of boiling water over the fire, when, to his utter 
 consternation, the cork flew out, and he saw the 
 figure of the giant, of a diminished size, come 
 out of the bottle, and, increasing in dimensions 
 as it arose, make its escape through the chimney. 
 Watson, quite discomforted, went to relate the 
 E 3 
 
54 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 disaster to Aquafluens. 6 What a trick the 
 lad has played you ! ’ said he ; 6 but we will 
 catch him again, depend upon it/ — 6 What’s 
 the use of catching, if we can’t keep him ?’ re- 
 torted Watson. c I advise you,’ said Aquafluens, 
 ‘ to see if amongst the things saved from the 
 wreck there is not an iron or a copper vessel, 
 which would be strong enough to hold him, 
 when he is alive and active, and fit for work.’ 
 Watson enquired throughout the colony, and at 
 last found a man who had a brass vessel of a 
 cylindrical form, which Watson purchased with 
 a pair of old shoes. ‘ I defy him to burst this,’ 
 cried Watson, 4 it is so thick and strong.’ — c I 
 have known him crack stouter vessels,’ replied 
 the giant, 6 when he is much heated by passion;’ 
 but, on examining it, he said he thought it would 
 serve their purpose ; for he observed, that there 
 was a small opening closed with a little door. 
 6 He will make nothing of lifting this door,’ 
 cried he, 6 when he is violent; but it is too small 
 for h\n\ to escape by. However, it will serve 
 him to vent his wrath, and keep him more tem- 
 perate.’ The next day off they posted ; suc- 
 ceeded in enclosing Vaporifer (for that was 
 his name), as he arose from the boiling pool ; 
 and carried him home in triumph. 
 
 “ When Vaporifer was fairly captured, he was 
 ready to come to terms with his master, and 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 55 
 
 offered to do almost any sort of work he chose 
 to set him to. ‘ But,’ said he, ‘ it would be 
 beneath my talents to grind corn or to saw 
 planks. I can work a manufacture of cotton or 
 woollen, or raise coals or water out of a mine/ 
 — * As for coals/ said Watson, c we have such 
 abundance of wood, that we need give ourselves 
 no trouble to get coals ; and in regard to mining 
 of any sort, that is quite beyond our reach. But 
 if it were possible to manufacture the cotton 
 that grows in such quantity in this country, it 
 would be a great blessing ; for we are all short 
 of shirts, and our women and children are half 
 naked. So I must consult with the rest of them, 
 and see if it would be possible to build some 
 mills to spin the cotton and weave it/ This 
 was so desirable, that every one was ready to 
 give his assistance to the best of his ability. 
 The carpenter, the smith, and the wheel-wright 
 were of essential service; and, after much toil 
 and trouble, a mill was erected. A manufac- 
 turer from Manchester would have laughed at 
 it; but it proved a most valuable treasure to 
 the little colony; which, by the by,” continued 
 the pedlar, “ I ought to have told you, had in- 
 creased considerably in population, as well as 
 in wealth.” — “ Wealth !” interrupted Tom: 
 “ I thought you said they made no use of money, 
 and did not care about it.” — “ True,” replied 
 
56 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 the pedlar, “ the wealth I speak of was the corn, 
 and cattle, and vegetables, and furniture, and 
 better houses, and boats with which they caught 
 plenty of fish, and other things without number. 
 After a few years had passed over their heads* 
 no one would have known the colony again, so 
 much was it increased and improved. Thanks 
 to Aquafluens, Ventosus, and, above all, to Va- 
 porifer : not that the people were idle : they 
 had enough to do to prepare work for the giants, 
 and finish it up after they had performed their 
 part. Thus, the men had to build houses, and 
 to make furniture, and boats, and carts, out of 
 the boards which Aquafluens sawed. Then 
 they were obliged to raise the corn for Ventosus 
 to grind, and afterwards make it into bread.” — 
 6i And the women must have had plenty of work 
 too,” said little Betsy, 66 after they made cotton, 
 to sew it up into gowns and petticoats for the 
 little girls.” — u Very true, my dear,” said the 
 old man ; “ and the little girls helped them at 
 this work; for there was a school set up to 
 teach the children to sew, and to read and write ; 
 and the poor widow was the mistress of it. Then 
 there was a church built : it was neither very 
 large nor very handsome ; but they prayed to 
 God in it as piously and as sincerely as if it had 
 been finer and richer ; and never failed to re- 
 turn thanks for the wonderful assistance he had 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 57 
 
 sent them.” — “ But pray, what did the men do 
 for coats ? ” asked Tom : “ for theirs must have 
 been worn out in time as well as the women’s 
 petticoats ?” — “ Oh ! ” said the pedlar, “ when 
 once the manufacture of cotton was found to 
 answer, another for wool was set on foot ; and 
 after that they raised flax, and manufactured 
 linen ; and, build as many mills as they would, 
 Vaporifer worked them all. At last they under- 
 took to build a ship; and then the three giants 
 began to dispute which should take charge of it. 
 — ‘ It cannot move without my assistance,’ said 
 Aquafluens. — c Nay,’ said Ventosus, ‘you may 
 support it, but a pretty snail’s pace it will move 
 at, unless I perch upon the deck, and stretch 
 out my wings ; and then it will fly upon the sur- 
 face of the waters.’ — 6 Ay, but it must fly the 
 way you happen to go,’ cried Vaporifer, ‘ whilst 
 I can take it in any direction ; ay, even against 
 the combined efforts of you both.’ Aquafluens 
 was obliged to give up the point; for though 
 he could have carried a vessel as far as the 
 mouth of a river, he had no power to walk on 
 the sea. The other two determined to divide 
 the charge amicably between them. When Ven- 
 tosus was in a humour to conduct the vessel 
 towards the place of its destination, he was to 
 be captain ; but if he grew refractory, the com- 
 mand was to be taken by Vaporifer. The co- 
 
58 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 lony had now an opportunity of either returning 
 to England, or seeking the spot where it had 
 at first been their intention to settle ; but, during 
 the course of twenty years that they had been 
 established in this desert island, they had im- 
 proved it so much, and become so attached to 
 it, that they had not the least desire to leave 
 it. Besides, those who were young when they 
 were wrecked were now growing old ; but those 
 who had been born in the island, or had arrived 
 there at a very early age, were curious to visit 
 England, of which they had heard so much 
 from their parents. They carried thither a 
 cargo of goods, the produce of the island, 
 which they thought would fetch a good price 
 in England, and brought in return such com- 
 modities as the colony required. Thus, manu- 
 factures and commerce were established in the 
 country, and from that time they went on in an 
 almost uninterrupted course of prosperity. And 
 so now, I am come to the end of my story,” 
 cried the old man, who began to be out of 
 breath with so long a narrative. — “ And a 
 very pretty story it is,” cried Tom, 66 with giants 
 in plenty ! ” — “ But I should be glad to know 
 where the sense lies?” said Hopkins, with a 
 shrug of his shoulders ; (C for as it has not pleased 
 God to give us such helps as you describe, I 
 see no good that can come of setting us a-longing 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 59 
 
 for what we can’t get, and so making us dis- 
 contented with what we have.” 
 
 “ Are you sure that you have no such helps ? ” 
 said the old man, with an arch smile. 66 1 could 
 give you an explanation of my tale, but little 
 Betsy would say it was the stupid moral at the 
 end : so I think the children had better go to 
 bed before I proceed.” Betsy and little Jem, 
 who were beginning to yawn, agreed to this ; 
 but the other children all begged leave to stay 
 and hear the explanation. 
 
 “ Well, then,” cried the old man, 66 nature 
 has, in reality, given these gigantic powers to 
 assist the labours of men.” The children looked 
 around in astonishment, as if doubting whether 
 they should not behold one of the giants. “ Tell 
 me,” continued he, addressing Hopkins, “ who 
 is it turns the mill that saws the wood yonder?” 
 — “ No one,” cried Hopkins : “ it is turned by 
 a stream of water.” — “ And does not that 
 stream of water work, without requiring either 
 food, lodging, or wages ? ” — “ That is 'true, 
 indeed,” replied Hopkins, scratching his head, 
 as if to make the meaning enter into it the easier. 
 <c It is strange that never struck me before.” — 
 “ Aquafluens,” continued the pedlar, “ means 
 no other than a stream of running water.” — 
 “ Oh, that is the reason,” cried Jenny, “ that 
 he cleaned the house, and w r ashed the children, 
 
60 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 and taught them to swim ; but I do not under- 
 stand how runniug water can fetch and carry 
 cargoes of wood and other things, as Aqua- 
 fluens did.” — “ Why, in a boat,” said Tom, 
 66 no doubt : don’t you remember they placed 
 a large shallow box on his back, to hold things 
 in : what was that but a boat ? ” — 66 Ay, true,” 
 replied Jenny ; “ and the long pole or staff to 
 make the giant go on, must have been an oar.” 
 — “ Well, it must be confessed,” said Hopkins, 
 ct there is as much truth as fiction in your 
 tale.” 
 
 “ Then Ventosus,” continued the pedlar . . . 
 “ Oh, stop,” cried Tom, interrupting him ; 66 let 
 me try to guess what Ventosus means.” After 
 thinking awhile, he exclaimed, — “ I do think 
 Ventosus must be the wind ; because, when 
 he quarrels with his brother, Aquafluens, he 
 makes the waves rage, and swell, and foam. 
 Oh, it is certainly, the wind which turns the 
 mill to grind the corn.” — “ True,” said Hop- 
 kins thoughtfully ; u the wind is another gigan- 
 tic power in nature, for which we have never 
 thought of being thankful. Well, my good 
 friend,” continued he, “ your story has taught 
 me that we possess blessings I little thought of; 
 and I hope it will teach us to be grateful for 
 them. But what is the third power, wdiich is 
 more powerful than the other tw r o ?” — “ It is 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 61 
 
 one you know less of, — it is steam ; which, con- 
 fined in the cylinder of the steam engine, sets 
 all our manufactures in motion. As it rises 
 from boiling water, I have called it the son of 
 water and of fire or heat. It is now, you know, 
 applied to vessels at sea, acting always steadily 
 and regularly, whilst the wind is not under our 
 command. But observe,” said the pedlar, 
 “ though these powers do so much for men, 
 they do not take the work out of their hands: 
 on the contrary, when the mills or manufactures 
 thrive, they give them more to do. It was the 
 giant Vaporifer that introduced into this village 
 the cotton mills, which give so much work to 
 all the folks in the neighbourhood ; and if Ven- 
 tosus did not grind the corn, depend upon it 
 there would not be half so much raised ; no, 
 nor near so many bakers : for, when men were 
 obliged to bruise their corn themselves, it would 
 take up the time which they can now give to 
 sowing and reaping it.” — “ Nor w r ould there 
 be so many floored cottages, and doors, and 
 window shutters, and tables, and chairs,” said 
 Tom (proud to show r that he had not forgotten 
 the number of articles mentioned in the tale), 
 46 if Aquafluens had not been such* a capital 
 sawyer of wood.” — “ Well, but,” said Dame 
 Hopkins, who hitherto had made no remark, 
 for, being busied about her household affairs, 
 
62 
 
 THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 she had not heard above half the story, “ if 
 these giants do but make men work the more, 
 I can’t see what good they do them.” — <fi Why, 
 wife,” answered Hopkins, “ we don’t want to 
 be idle; but we want to earn a comfortable 
 livelihood by our work ; and I see now, that, 
 if it were not for the help of these powers which 
 nature has given us (and we must have been as 
 blind as buzzards not to have observed them be- 
 fore), our cottage might have been unfloored ; 
 we might have had neither bedstead to lie on, 
 chair to sit on, nor table to eat off ; and, what 
 is worse still, a sad scarcity of bread to set 
 on the table at meals. We have now the 
 produce of our own work and of theirs also ; 
 and, as they do a hundred times more work 
 than we can, why, we get a hundred times more 
 food and clothing, and comforts of one kind or 
 other.” 
 
 66 Ay,” said Jenny ; “ where should we have 
 got our cotton gowns and petticoats, or you 
 your shirt, Tom, if Vaporifer had not set the 
 cotton mills a-going ?” — 66 Well,” said Hopkins, 
 snuffing up the air, “ I smell the smell of 
 supper. I see my good woman has been busy 
 to some purpose.” — “ Ay, and it’s all the work 
 of my own hands,” said she : 66 none of your 
 giants have had any thing to do with it.” But 
 the pedlar, who stood up for the credit of his 
 
THE THREE GIANTS. 
 
 63 
 
 giants, replied, — “ By your leave, mistress, I 
 think you are mistaken. These potatoes could 
 never have been so well boiled without the help 
 of steam ; nor would the iron, of which the pot 
 is made, have been so easily got out of the 
 mine, without the use of a steam-engine.” — “ I 
 think that truant young giant is the greatest 
 favourite of yours,” said Hopkins, “ of the 
 three.” — “ Not when he was running wild 
 about the country,” replied the pedlar; “ but 
 after he was reclaimed, and took to working, 
 he certainly did more than the other two.” — 
 “ And, mother, who ground the corn that made 
 this bread?” cried Tom, archly. — “ And I 
 doubt whether Ventosus had not some hand in 
 bringing this sugar over the seas from foreign 
 parts,” said Hopkins. — “ Well, well, come in 
 and eat,” cried the good dame, a little angry 
 that she did but half understand the meaning of 
 the story, which seemed to be more attended 
 to than her supper. So they all went in laugh- 
 ing and joking, and sat down to a comfortable 
 meal ; which, in spite of all the credit the good 
 dame claimed for her cooking, they declared 
 she could not have brought to table without 
 the help of Aquafluens, Ventosus, and Va- 
 porifer. 
 
POPULATION; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 “ Father,” said Tom the next morning to Hop- 
 kins, “ I can’t, for the life of me, make out why 
 we are so poor in Old England ; for the real 
 giants work much more for us here than they 
 did for the folks in the desert island. What is 
 a single water-mill, and a single wind-mill, and 
 such a bit of a factory as they set up, compared 
 to all those we have here ? And yet they lived 
 in plenty, whilst we are often half-starved.” 
 
 “ Their island was but a nut-shell to ours,” 
 cried Hopkins ; “ and there were but a few of 
 them in it; and so the single water-mill, and 
 wind-mill, and bit of a factory, as you call it, 
 did all the work they wanted ; whilst here, we 
 are too many by half for all the mills and fac- 
 tories in the kingdom.” 
 
 “ Well, then we have nothing to do but to 
 build more ; there ’s no want of hands with us.” 
 “ Ay, but you must have wherewithal to pay 
 
population; or, the old world. 6.5 
 
 the builders; and money runs short among so 
 many.” 
 
 “ It can’t run shorter than it did in the 
 island,” replied Tom ; “ for they had but one 
 purseful that I heard of, and that they made 
 no use of. So, why cannot you build without 
 money here, as well as they did there ? you 
 need only feed the workmen instead of paying 
 them wages.” — “ That’s all one,” said Hop- 
 kins ; u feed and clothe the workmen, or pay 
 them wages, comes to the same thing; and if 
 food and clothing run short, the factory cannot 
 be built, nor worked if it were built. The fault 
 lies in there being more people here than there 
 is food to maintain, clothes to cover, or houses 
 to lodge them. There’s your mother there 
 has had sixteen children ; and God knows we 
 have never had wherewithal to bring up half 
 that number. But you are too young for these 
 matters, Tom, so be off to your work, and don’t 
 stand idling here.” 
 
 When Tom was gone, his mother said, — 
 “ Ay, it’s very hard that I, who have brought 
 sixteen children into the world, and worked, as 
 one may say, day and night, should not be able 
 to give them clothes to their backs, nor a hearty 
 meal of wholesome food ; no, nor a bit of learn- 
 ing to lift them on in the world. You know 
 
 o 
 
 what a hard matter we have had to place out 
 
66 
 
 POPULATION ; 
 
 Dick and Nance ; and now that I am looking 
 out for Jenny, there is nothing to be had. I 
 sent her after Farmer Wilkin's place, but there 
 were no less than six girls about it already; so 
 they underbid each other, and one of them got 
 it, who offered to go for little more than her 
 board and a pair of shoes a year.” 
 
 “ That is because there are more girls than 
 places for them,” said John. 
 
 66 Well, and what is to be done with them at 
 home is more than I can tell ! Why, there is 
 Jenny gets such an appetite now-a-day, there is 
 no satisfying her. She would be willing enough 
 to earn the bread she eats, if she knew but 
 how ; but they won’t take her in at the mills, 
 and there is no want of hands at the factory.” 
 — u That is because there are more hands to 
 work than work to be done,” replied her hus- 
 band. — “ Don’t be telling me of your ’cause 
 this, and ’cause t’ other,” cried the impatient 
 wife; 66 but tell me, what is much more to the 
 purpose, how am I to get bread to put into my 
 children’s mouths?” But John said, with a 
 sigh, that was more than he could tell. 
 
 “ But I suppose you can tell the cause ?” 
 retorted his discontented wife. — 66 Yes, that 
 is easy enough,” replied John ; 66 there are more 
 mouths to be fed than there is bread to feed 
 them .” — (S Well, and where is the remedy?” 
 
OR, THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 67 
 
 — “ That is a harder matter, wife. Now we 
 have the children, we must make the best of it 
 we can, and divide what we have among them ; 
 but if you had not had such a swarm of brats, 
 we should all have fared better. Look at 
 Neighbour Fairburn’s ; why, they never want 
 for any thing ! ” — u Ay, that is true enough,” 
 replied his wife : “ there was his Sukey at church 
 last Sunday in as neat a cotton gown as I 
 would wish to set eyes on ; and, God forgive 
 me ! I could not but cast a look of envy on it, 
 when I compared it with our own poor girls’ 
 patched rags. Well, I remember the time when 
 Patty there was but a little one, she had as 
 good a gown to her back as Sukey Fairburn ; 
 but times are sadly changed now !” — “ As for 
 that matter, dame,” cried John, “ cotton gowns 
 are a great deal cheaper now than they were 
 then; but you have had thirteen children since 
 Patty; so it is no wonder you can’t give them 
 a new gown so often, even though you may 
 buy the cotton at half price. When we had 
 only three children, why, it was natural we 
 should do as well as Fairburn does with his 
 three, for both he and I get the same wages ; 
 but when you come to divide among three, or 
 among sixteen, there is a wide difference.” — 
 u Nay, but you know, John, we never had six- 
 teen alive at once, nor near,” cried the wife. 
 f 2 
 
68 
 
 POPULATION ,* 
 
 — 66 That is true,” said he ; “ but so many 
 dying, is but a proof we had more than we 
 could rear. If you and I had not married till 
 the time of life Fairburn and his wife did, we 
 should not have been troubled with such a 
 monstrous family.” The good dame, who could 
 not bear any reflection being cast on the number 
 of her children, and yet was at a loss for an 
 argument in its favour, said coaxingly to her 
 husband, — “ Well, but, John, you know the 
 proverb says, 6 The more the merrier.’ ” — “ Ay, 
 but you forget what follows, wife, — 6 The fewer 
 the better cheer.’ ” 
 
 John then went on to show that if the labour- 
 ers took care to have small families, they would 
 gain another and a still greater advantage; not 
 only would they have fewer children to clothe 
 and feed, and therefore their money would go 
 farther, but also their wages would necessarily 
 be higher. The rich, instead of having too 
 many workmen, would have too few. His wife 
 thought that this would not mend matters, for 
 that the fewer the labourers the more work 
 would each have to do. But John replied very 
 properly, “ Nay, nay, we are not slaves, and 
 cannot be forced to work more than we are 
 willing. Now,” continued he, “ if we were 
 fewer in number, the rich would be looking out 
 for workmen, instead of workmen looking out 
 
OR, THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 69 
 
 for employers, as is the case now. And if there 
 was a want of hands instead of a want of work, 
 those who wanted work to be done would be 
 ready enough to pay higher wages. We might 
 say to our employers, 6 If you do not choose 
 to give us a better price for our labour, we 
 will go elsewhere to others who will. , But if 
 any of us were to say that now, when there 
 are so many all wanting employment, we should 
 starve in idleness, for others would consent to 
 work at the low prices which we had refused.” 
 66 1 can’t think the rich would ever allow us 
 to fix our own price,” said the wife ; “ for they 
 are wiser by far than we are, and they are 
 mighty clever at having things their own way. 
 They would get a law made to forbid the rais- 
 ing of wages, mayhap ! It is true, as you say, 
 they can’t oblige us to work, but they may oblige 
 us by law to take low wages if we do work, and 
 you know well enough we cannot live without 
 it.” — “ There’s no doubt of that,” replied 
 John ; “ and it reminds me, that when I went to 
 pay the last quarter’s schooling, I found the 
 master musing over an old book, and he bade 
 me stop to hear what it said ; for that it was a 
 curious thing, and concerned the labouring 
 people; and, moreover, that it was true. Well, 
 as far as I can recollect, he read that once upon 
 a time there was a mortal disease fell upon the 
 f 3 
 
70 
 
 population; 
 
 people of England, called the plague, and that 
 as many as half of them died of it .” — 66 Poor 
 creatures ! ” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of 
 compassion, “ how shocking !” Then, after a 
 little thought, she added, “ Labourers must 
 have been scarce enough then, God knows ! ” — 
 “ Well,” continued John, “ the book went on 
 to say, that those who survived took advantage 
 of their numbers being reduced, to ask higher 
 wages.” — “ Ay, but there is one thing I can’t 
 understand,” said the wife ; “ why should there 
 be a call for more labourers ? for if there were 
 few r er poor folks to labour, there were fewer 
 rich folks to labour for ; for the plague is no 
 respecter of persons, and falls on the rich as 
 well as the poor, as we read in the Bible it did 
 in the time of Pharaoh.” — “ Sure enough,” 
 replied John ; “ but then the rich can pay for 
 doctor’s stuff, and all manner of things to help 
 them through it ; so more of them are likely to 
 recover than of the poor, who are pent up in 
 their small cottages, and have no money to pay 
 nurses or doctors. However, there is no doubt 
 but that many of the rich died too. But look 
 ye, wife, when they go down to the grave, their 
 riches are not buried with them ; no, no, that 
 remains above ground, and goes to their friends 
 and relations ; so you see the plague did not 
 take the money, and there was not less of that 
 
71 
 
 OR, THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 in the land, though there were fewer people. 
 Now mind ye, wife, it is wealth that sets the 
 people to work. So if half the rich folk had 
 died, others would have come in for their 
 wealth ; and these, becoming so much richer 
 than they were before, would have wanted 
 more people to work for them.” 
 
 66 They might want and welcome,” said the 
 wife ; (( but how could they get them if they 
 were dead?” — “ And it is just because they 
 cannot get them, that those who survived were 
 sure to get higher wages ; for as I said before, 
 when labourers are scarce, the rich are ready 
 enough to pay them high wages. But the 
 book went on to say, that when the King who 
 reigned in those times heard that his subjects 
 would not work without higher wages, he fell 
 into a rage, and made a law such as you were 
 thinking of, wife, to forbid, under severe pains 
 and penalties, that the poor should take higher 
 wages than they had before the plague.” — 
 “ Why, then, I think he was no better than a 
 tyrant, to hinder the poor from getting what 
 they fairly could : he must have been quite 
 another sort of man from our good King 
 William.” — “ That he was,” said John ; “ but 
 it would not do ; and after a hard struggle, 
 the King was obliged to give in, and the peo- 
 ple got the wages they asked.” 
 f 4 
 
72 
 
 POPULATION ; 
 
 66 Well, but I do not know how it is,” said 
 his wife, after a pause ; “ my mind sadly mis- 
 gives me about high wages ever since the 
 Fairy’s wand brought on such a train of ill luck, 
 that we so little looked for.” — “ That was be- 
 cause the high wages then was not the natural 
 rate of wages as one might say. The Fairy 
 forced wages up, and had no better success 
 than the King’s law to force wages down : but 
 you see, wife, that the nature of things is 
 stronger than Kings’ laws or Fairies’ wands; 
 and that when the number of labourers was so 
 much lessened by the plague, it was quite 
 natural that the wages should be high, and so 
 they were, without any ill luck coming of it.” 
 
 “ Well, for my part, I can’t see the difference,” 
 said the good dame. “ Why should not the 
 manufacturers send away half their workmen 
 when wages rise after the plague, just as they 
 did when the Fairy’s wand did the business?” 
 
 66 Mercy on me,” cried John, u how thick- 
 headed you are, wife ! Don’t you see that half 
 of them are sent away already by the plague 
 into their coffins ? so, instead of discharging any 
 more, they must pay high wages if they wish to 
 keep those that remain ; for when labourers 
 are scarce, and there is a great demand for them, 
 they won’t work without good pay.” 
 
 “ Then,” said his wife, returning to her 
 
OR, THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 73 
 
 favourite subject, “ when the labouring people 
 were so well off, they might marry young, for 
 they could afford to provide for a large family 
 if they chanced to have one.” John readily 
 agreed to this, observing, at the same time, 
 66 that people must take care, however, not to 
 overshoot the mark ; for that, if they increased 
 and multiplied so much, that in the end the 
 market were again overstocked with labourers, 
 w r ages would naturally lower again, and then 
 the poor would be in no Letter plight than 
 they were before the plague. And that is the 
 plight we are in now,” continued John. “ But 
 God forbid that a plague should ever come to 
 thin our ranks !” — “ Heaven preserve us from 
 it!” cried his wife: “ for though those that 
 outlive it may fare the better, who knows, John, 
 that you and I should escape with our lives; 
 and I ’ll promise you,” added she, with a look of 
 affright, “ it would snatch away some of the 
 children that are still left to us.” 
 
 “ Ay, I trust the plague will never return ; 
 but we may learn a lesson from that which is 
 past, though it be so many years back. For we 
 may be sure that if we have but small, or at 
 least moderate sized families, in the course of a 
 few years it will bring about the same good to 
 the working people.” 
 
 “ To be sure,” said his wife, “ if there had 
 
74 * 
 
 population; 
 
 been only one or two girls after Farmer Wil- 
 kin’s place, Jenny would have stood a much 
 better chance of getting it, and perhaps have 
 had two or three guineas wages ; for if girls 
 were scarce, they would not be so simple as to 
 be satisfied with their board and a pair of 
 shoes.” 
 
 “ Well, dame, the country is like our family, 
 there are too many of them for every one to 
 get a livelihood.” — “ Heaven help the coun- 
 try ! ” cried the wife ; “ it is more than we can 
 do to help ourselves.” — “ Why, what is a coun- 
 try made up of, but of families like ours ?” said 
 John. “ And if every family had taken care 
 of themselves, there would have been no dis- 
 tress in the country. When God has given us 
 hands to labour with, and heads with common 
 sense to teach us what we ought to do, we have 
 no reason to complain, and it is our own fault if 
 we do not guard against poverty by prudence 
 and saving. We ought not to have married so 
 young, and then we should not have been 
 troubled with so large a family. But what is 
 done can’t be undone, only it should serve as a 
 warning against another time.” 
 
 “ We are little likely to marry again, either 
 of us,” said his wife ; “ and if we did, sure 
 enough it would not be over-young.” 
 
 “ 1 was not thinking of you and me, wife, but 
 
OR, THE OLD WORLD. 75 
 
 of the young ones. There is our boy, George, 
 who is but two-and-twenty, hankering after 
 Betsy Bloomfield, and she is but nineteen. 
 Now, George has not a farthing more than the 
 labour of his hands to support her and the 
 dozen of children they are likely to have at 
 those years. I say, I will not hear of it. George 
 must work hard, and lay up something before 
 he marries the girl. And let her go to service, 
 and get something to lay by too ; and then, 
 when they have a little money in hand, and a 
 few more years over their heads, they may 
 come together without harm.” 
 
 “ Mercy on us ! what will they say to that ? 
 it will be a hard thing upon them, John.” 
 
 “ But it would be harder still upon their 
 children, if we let them marry so young. They 
 would be half starved, and rickety, and breed 
 all sorts of distempers, and so they would die 
 off, and be an affliction instead of blessing to 
 their parents.” 
 
 “ Ah !” said the good woman, heaving a 
 sigh, “ like our poor babes.” Then, after a 
 pause of painful remembrance, she added, — 
 “ But one of them, you know, John, was car- 
 ried off by the measles, and that is not bred 
 by lack of good food, but comes of the will of 
 God.” 
 
76 
 
 population; 
 
 “ Yes,” returned John ; “ but if it had not 
 been a poor weakly thing, it might have got 
 through the measles as well as the rest of them. 
 Why, to be sure, none of them died of starv- 
 ation ; but who knows but that they might all 
 have lived, had they been reared in plenty?” 
 
 “ Alack!” said the poor woman, drawing 
 the back of her hand across her eyes ; “ it was 
 not so much their deaths I minded, for I knew 
 they would want for nothing in a better world ; 
 but it was their puling and crying when they 
 were alive, as if they had not a moment’s peace, 
 poor babes ! They were a sore trouble to me ; 
 and the more I loved them the harder it was to 
 bear. One while,” continued she, “ we lost 
 our children by the small-pox ; and when the 
 cow-pox was found out, I thought they would 
 be safe : but they went off the same, one by 
 one sickness, another by another ; so I can’t 
 but think, husband, that it is the will of God 
 that poor babes should drop off, as the blossom 
 drops from the trees : for it never all comes to 
 fruit.” 
 
 “ It is the will of God,” answered John, 
 u that children should die if their parents do 
 not provide for them so that they may live. 
 And when there is no small-pox, why, the 
 sickly ones are carried off by the measles or 
 
OR, THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 77 
 
 hooping-cough ; nay, even a cold will do the 
 work ; for die some of them must , when there is 
 not food to rear them all.” 
 
 “ Nay, John, I can’t bear to hear you talk 
 after that fashion. It seems for all the world as 
 if you thought their dying a good riddance.” 
 
 66 No; but I think it a sin and a shame to 
 bring children into the world just to suffer, and 
 send them out of it. First a cradle, and then 
 a coffin ; and little else between than fretting. 
 But let us have no grandchildren born to die 
 off in that way : we must live and learn, or w T e 
 shall live to little purpose. So get Betsy 
 Bloomfield a service as soon as you can.” 
 
 “ Well,” said Dame Hopkins, after a little 
 thought, “ there is the Squire’s lady was here 
 last week, in want of a girl for her nursery. I 
 begged hard for our Jenny ; it would have been 
 the making of her ; but it was lost labour, for 
 the lady would have it she was too young. She 
 cast an eye upon Patty, there,” added she in 
 a half whisper; “ but I told the lady she had 
 other thoughts in her head. Now' this place 
 would just suit Betsy, who is a nice tidy body, 
 and has reared up her brothers and sisters, 
 and is fit for a nursery.” 
 
 John turned towards his daughter Patty, who 
 was sitting by the casement window, sew'ing. 
 When she saw r that her father observed her, a 
 
78 
 
 population; 
 
 blush came over her face; for she could not 
 conceal the tears that were trickling down her 
 cheeks. <c Hey-day, what is to do now?” 
 cried he ; “ have you and Tom Barton had a 
 lover’s quarrel ? Never fear, girl, you will soon 
 make it up again.” — “ Oh no,” cried Patty, 
 66 he never gives me so much as a cross word ; 
 but I have heard all you have been saying, and 
 I am no older, you know, than Betsy ; nay, 
 even younger by three months ; so I suppose,” 
 added she, sobbing, 66 I must give up the wed- 
 ding, and think of going out to service as well 
 as Betsy.” 
 
 66 Hey, never take on so, child,” cried the 
 father; ‘ 6 that is quite another thing: Barton 
 is able to support you ; ay, and as many brats 
 as you may chance to have. He has neither 
 kith nor kin ; and his father has left him the 
 shop, and all the stock in trade, and a good lot 
 of money beside ; so there is no harm can come 
 of your marrying him. Quite the reverse, you 
 see, deary, for you are a burthen upon us, who 
 have so many of your brothers and sisters to 
 maintain.” Patty cast up her tearful eyes, 
 which seemed to complain that she should be 
 thought a burthen. The mother, who under- 
 stood her looks, said, “ Your father does not 
 mean that we shall be glad to be rid of you, 
 Patty ; nay, nay, child, but we shall be glad 
 
OR, THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 79 
 
 to see you happy, and to have your share of 
 the meals to give to your brothers and sisters.” 
 Patty brightened up at these words ; but a 
 cloud again passed over her brow as she thought 
 of poor Betsy. 
 
EMIGRATION; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A NEW WORLD. 
 
 Hopkins’s wife, as we have seen, loved her 
 children tenderly ; and, hard as it w as to main- 
 tain them, she could not bring her mind to re- 
 gret that she had so large a family ; for there 
 was not one of them she would have liked to 
 part with. “ Dick and Nancy,” thought she, 
 “ earn their ow n livelihood, so they are none 
 too many for us ; and I had trouble enough to 
 let them go so far away. Then Patty is soon 
 to be married, and it will be hard to part with 
 her even to a good husband, fond as the girl is 
 of him ; and well she may, for one may go far 
 and near and not meet wdth the like. Jenny 
 and Tom, to be sure, are growing so fast, they 
 are enough to eat us out of house and home ; 
 but then it does one good to see them so 
 hearty; and they will be the better able to 
 w r ork when they can get any thing to do. 
 Betsy eats but little, as yet, and is so healthy 
 
emigration. 
 
 81 
 
 that she gives one no trouble. Then, as to my 
 poor little darling Jemmy, he is but an ailino- 
 child, I must own : but I love him the better 
 for all the care he gives me; and many a heart- 
 ache have I had for fear I should not rear him.” 
 So the good woman went on, numbering up the 
 qualities which endeared her children to her. 
 At length, addressing herself to her husband' 
 she said, with a sigh, — “ What a pity it is, 
 John, that the world is not a little wider, that 
 there might be room, and work, and food for 
 us all.” 
 
 “ As for that matter,” cried Hopkins, “ the 
 
 i ' en ° U S h ’ 1,1 aI1 conscience; it’s 
 only Old England that’s a bit of the smallest for 
 the people it has to hold. Why, there are some 
 countries, as they tell me, that want workmen. 
 America, they say, is too large by half for the 
 folks that live in it; and ship-loads of people 
 go over there, because there’s a scarcity of 
 hands, and wages run high. They go such 
 lengths as to say, that the more children you 
 have there, the better you are off. Thev are 
 no burthen there; for, as soon as ever they 
 can do any sort of work, they are sure to get it, 
 und a good pennyworth by it. I’ve heard, that 
 a widow woman, with a large family, is counted 
 a prize there, and will get a second husband 
 as soon as ever she chooses.” — « Then they 
 
82 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 may marry young in those parts?” said his 
 wife. — “ No doubt ; the sooner the better,” 
 replied Hopkins : “ they tell me the country 
 swarms with children, all living in plenty.” — 
 “ That ’s a fine thing,” said the dame : “ but yet 
 it would be hard to leave one’s own country, 
 where one has been bred and born : it is like 
 leaving father and mother. Besides, husband,” 
 added she, after a thoughful pause, “ if such 
 numbers of poor go over to America, it will 
 soon be stock full ; and then they will be in 
 no better plight there than they are here.” — 
 “ Bless you,” cried John, “ it is not so easy 
 to fill America with people. I ’ve heard a deal 
 about it from the mate of the ship at Liverpool, 
 which takes them over the sea : he calls it 
 emigration .” 
 
 “ Emigration !” repeated the wife; “ why, 
 one would think they were sent across the seas 
 for some crime, it sounds so like transportation.” 
 
 “ What matters the sound,” cried John, 
 “when it’s quite another thing?” 
 
 “ Well, but do, John, tell me all about it,” 
 said she, coaxingly, to her husband. 
 
 “ Why, what can you understand of these 
 matters?” replied he. But he was a kind- 
 hearted husband, and let his wife have her way 
 when she was not unreasonable ; so he told 
 her “ that America was so large, that the mate 
 said it would take a thousand years, and more, 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 83 
 
 to fill it with people like Old England. There 
 is so much land there, that it may be had almost 
 for asking. And most of those who go over, the 
 mate says, won’t stay in the towns and work for 
 the high wages they could get there, but take 
 their goods and chattels, and go up the country, 
 and settle in a farm of their own.” 
 
 “ A farm of their own ! ” exclaimed the wife, 
 66 lack o’ day ; if our landlord would but give 
 us one poor acre by our cottage, how happy we 
 should be ! ” 
 
 John began to fear his wife might take a fancy 
 to go over to America, so he added, — “ It’s 
 not all so smooth and easy as you may think, 
 wife. First there ’s such tossing to and fro on 
 the salt seas, and they are all sick to death 
 before they get there. And when they are 
 landed, and go up the country and choose their 
 ground, there are no farm houses, no barns, no 
 ricks, no live stock ; no, not even fields ready 
 for them, meadow or arable, nothing but woods 
 without end.” — “ And are there no wild beasts 
 in those woods?” asked the good woman. — 
 “ Why, not many of them, I believe,” re- 
 plied Hopkins ; “ but plenty of snakes and 
 reptiles, and such like. Well, the first thing 
 they have to do is to cut down the trees, and 
 clear them away, before they can sow their 
 seed ; and then they are obliged to build them- 
 
84 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 selves log- houses to live in, and make a shift 
 for furniture. Then they must carry their tools 
 with them to work with, and some few pots and 
 kettles ; for you find none of those things in the 
 woods. So, you see, there ’s a deal to be done 
 before you can settle comfortably.” — “ I won- 
 der,” said his wife, “ that when poor men are 
 turned off at the factory, and can’t find work, 
 and those, too, who can no longer get a live- 
 lihood by the hand loom, do not pack up their 
 all and go over to America.” 
 
 “ How should they ?” cried Hopkins : “ they 
 have not wherewithal to pay their passage. 
 The captain won’t take them over for nothing, 
 and feed them while aboard the ship. And it ’s 
 well for them that he won’t, for America would 
 not suit such people as these. Set a weaver to 
 cut down a tree! why, he knows no more about 
 it than a child, and he would be a week at it 
 Then he would never get a log-house over his 
 head before the winter set in, and starved him 
 outright. They who have been used to the 
 closeness of the factory by day, and to sleep 
 four or five in a room by night, why they 
 would perish in the wild woods, with no one 
 near them for miles around.” — “ Well, but,” 
 said she, “ there must be firing in plenty to 
 keep them warm : no one to forbid their pick- 
 ing up the dry sticks, nor pulling down a branch 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 85 
 
 v when they wanted it.” — “ Sure enough, they 
 will not Want fuel,” replied he ; “ it ’s easy 
 enough to boil the pot, but not so sure of 
 having something to put into it. Now your 
 country folks, that have been used to out-door 
 work, get through hardships much better than 
 the factory men, who have been mewed up all 
 their days like chickens in a coop. Why, the 
 first time they slept out in those woods they 
 would be sure to get the ague ; and then 
 who is to work for them ? No such plenty of 
 hands there. No, it is only fit for folks who 
 are used to hard out-of-doors labour ; and it 
 won’t do for them either, unless they have 
 some little property to set them agoing; for, 
 besides taking so many things with them, they 
 must have a supply of food till they can 
 get their crops in, or* they would run some' 
 chance of being starved. That has happened 
 to more than one who has gone without fore- 
 thought. They say a whole colony has some- 
 times been cut off by famine and sickness, 
 before they could get in their first harvest.” 
 — 66 Why, I can’t well make out what you 
 mean, husband ; first you say America is 
 such a fine place that it almost made my 
 mouth water ; and then you talk of so many 
 hardships and difficulties, that I would not ven- 
 ture there for the world.” — 44 Why there ’s both 
 g 3 
 
86 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 good and bad in it,” replied Hopkins : “a hard- 
 working man, with no ailments about him, and 
 able to pay his passage, or get it paid for him, 
 and with money enough to buy the tools he 
 wants, may find it answer ; ay, and become a 
 wealthy farmer after some years, and bring up 
 his family in peace and plenty ; but he will 
 always meet with difficulties at first, such as 
 would knock up your in-door men in no time.” 
 66 But then you say that in towns wages are 
 high, and the men from the factory might get 
 employment there.” 
 
 “ Ay, a good handy carpenter, or wheel- 
 wright, they tell me, can earn as much as a 
 dollar a day, and that ’s more than four shil- 
 lings.” 
 
 “ Mercy o’ me !” exclaimed the wife, “ what 
 a sum ! ” 
 
 “ But,” added he, 66 these fellows from the 
 factory, or the hand loom, who have done 
 nothing else all their lives, would be mighty 
 awkward at any other work.” 
 
 66 They might work in the factories in Ame- 
 rica, as there is such want of hands : their pay 
 at the factories must be worth having.” 
 
 “ They have scarcely any factories in Ame- 
 rica,” replied Hopkins, “ being all so busy in 
 tilling the ground.” 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 87 
 
 “ Then what do they do for clothes?” quoth 
 she. 
 
 “ Oh, they mostly come from England. For, 
 look ye, they have such loads of corn that they 
 would not know what to do with it, if they did 
 not send it over here, where, God knows, we 
 are short enough of it : so then they get, in 
 return, our Manchester cotton, and Leeds 
 cloth, and Birmingham hardware, and whatever 
 else they may want. Corn is their money, as 
 one may say, for it pays for every thing.” 
 
 “ It must be a rare place for poachers,” ob- 
 served the dame ; “ for I suppose there ’s 
 plenty of game in those great woods, and corn 
 to fatten them, and no one to hinder them kill- 
 ing as many as they can catch.” 
 
 66 It is no use killing more than you can eat, 
 for there is no one to sell it to. But it is a 
 good thing to know how to handle a gun ; for 
 you may knock down the birds in no time, and 
 so keep the pot a boiling : and, indeed, that is 
 what a man must mainly depend upon till his 
 crops come in.” 
 
 “ Then there must be some wild fruits,” said 
 the dame ; “ and, mayhap, they might pick a 
 salad of one sort or other to eat with the 
 birds.” 
 
 “ Ay, but they will be better off when they 
 G 4 
 
88 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 get a bit of garden about their log-house, and 
 a plot of potatoes and cabbages of their own.” 
 
 “ There is too much danger one way or 
 other,” said his wife ; “ better stay at home.” 
 
 “ If you can earn a living at home,” said 
 Hopkins ; “ if not, in my mind, it ’s better to 
 seek your fortune abroad, than to be half 
 starved, or go to the parish.” — “ But then they 
 should not go like ninnies, not knowing what 
 to provide or what to expect ; and it is easy 
 enough to know, by asking those that do.” — 
 “ They say that sometimes the government, or 
 the parish, will lend a helping hand, and pay 
 their passage or supply them with the needful, 
 to prevent their becoming a burthen upon the 
 parish.” 
 
 66 They owe them no great thanks for that, 
 if it is just to get rid of them.” 
 
 “ Nay, but it is their own wish, wife, else 
 they would not go ; and if they go prudently 
 provided for, that is to say, able to do for 
 themselves till they can get in their crops, 
 when once that is done, they will get on swim- 
 mingly.” — “ And why should we not do so in 
 England?” said his wife. — 66 For the best of 
 all reasons,” replied he ; “ because the land in 
 England is all cultivated already.” — “ Nay, 
 how can you say that, husband, when you know 
 there ’s Broom Heath, not half a mile off, that 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 89 
 
 is all a barren waste ?” — “ And why is it so? but 
 because it is not worth the cultivating.” — “ It 
 is true,” said his wife, “ the soil may not be so 
 good as the field you were ploughing the other 
 day, that gives such heavy crops. But if it 
 was well ploughed and sown, surely it would 
 yield something? And any thing is better 
 than nothing, you know, John ; if it was but 
 even enough to make a score of loaves, why 
 there would be a score more than there was 
 before.” — “ Ay, but when the soil is so bad, 
 the ploughing, and manuring, and seed corn, 
 and reaping, would cost more than the corn 
 would sell for at market ; and who will be such 
 a fool as to raise corn which costs him more 
 than it will fetch at market? Undertake a 
 concern that brings in a loss instead of a gain ? 
 not I, faith. Why, if they give me the land 
 free of cost, as they do sometimes in America, 
 I would not say thank you for it.” 
 
 “ Well, but you know it sometimes answers 
 to take in Commons, John,” said she : “ there’s 
 Ashdown Common, that was parcelled out 
 among the parish.” 
 
 66 Ay, that’s a better soil : it grew grass, and 
 the parish fed their cattle and sheep on it be- 
 fore it was parcelled out. So their crops are 
 not all clear gain, for they have lost the pas- 
 ture now that it is turned into arable land.” — 
 
90 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 “ Yes,” replied his wife, " 1 have heard Neigh- 
 bour Partridge say, she has often sorrowed for 
 the loss of the milk her little ones got when 
 her dappled cow fed on the common ; yet, 
 upon the whole, she owned they were better 
 off. 6 My husband/ said she, c makes more by 
 his five acres now, than he could get by the 
 cow before ; and though I am sorry poor Biddy 
 is gone, the money she sold for bought us a 
 bit of good dung for the land; which was so 
 poor, that the seed put into it would have been 
 as good as lost without it.’ ” 
 
 M There is Farmer Stubbs,” said Hopkins, 
 66 who had a big slice of the common (for 
 he bought up the shares of some of the poor 
 parishioners who had not the means to cul- 
 tivate it). Well, he says that he was obliged 
 to lay so much dung on it, that he had not 
 enough for his own farm ; and he thinks he has 
 lost as much by injuring the crops of his old 
 land, as he has gained by that of the new. For 
 it is but a poor crop after all. Then to think 
 of the labour it cost him ; why, there were more 
 men at work on that bit of ground than there 
 was to raise twice the quantity of corn on the 
 old land ; and it is small encouragement to have 
 to work harder and get less. However, he 
 expects it will do better next year, and pay him 
 in time. And look ye, wife, I don’t pretend to 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 91 
 
 say, that it will not answer to turn up any 
 common or waste .” — “ No, that you can’t,” 
 returned she; “ for you know when we got 
 leave to take that bank by the road-side into 
 our garden, what a pretty crop of potatoes it 
 gave us.” 
 
 “ That it did ; but you may remember, dame, 
 how you complained of the cabbages that same 
 season. And why did they fail ? Just because 
 they were stinted of manure ; for I was obliged 
 to lay some of it on the new land before I 
 planted my potatoes. So you see, after all, it 
 was robbing Peter to pay Paul, as the saying 
 is. However, the ground is not bad, and it 
 will answer in the end. But, as I said before, 
 you must not reckon all you get from new land 
 as clear gain, on account of the outlay.” — “ And 
 what do they do to manure the land in Arne- 
 rica?” said the wife: “ it must want it sadly, 
 never having had a morsel laid on since it was 
 created.” 
 
 “ If there has been no manure laid on, there 
 have been no crops taken out of it,” said Hop- 
 kins ; “ and so the soil has never had any work 
 to wear it out.” 
 
 66 No more has a common, when it is first 
 ploughed up,” quoth she. 
 
 66 That’s true enough; but then think, what 
 are the commons and heaths of Old England ? 
 
92 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 They are just nothing but the poorest land 
 that is neglected, after all the better soils are 
 taken into cultivation. Now see the difference 
 in America. It’s a large country, with very 
 little of it cultivated : — the land lies before 
 you, and you have only to pick and choose ; if 
 one spot don’t please you, why, another will. 
 Besides, the land, so far from being poor, the 
 mate swears, is as fine a soil as you could 
 wish to see; and instead of wanting manure, 
 when first it’s turned up, it will yield crops for 
 many years without having any thing at all put 
 upon it.” 
 
 “ That seems very strange to us here,” cried 
 the dame. — “ And well it may, because all the 
 good land was turned up, and cultivated ages 
 ago : it is natural enough to choose the best 
 first, and then when all the best is cultivated, 
 why, you must take up with the second best ; 
 and after that, with land of the third quality, 
 and so on, worse and worse, till you come to the 
 poorest land of all ; and that is all we have left 
 now,” quoth he, “ that is not cultivated. So, if 
 you turn up that, you must needs humour it 
 and give it a bit of good stuff, and make much 
 of it, if you expect it to pay you. But those 
 woods in America, that have grown time out of 
 mind, since the beginning of the world, for aught 
 we know ” — “ Nay,” interrupted his wife, 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 93 
 
 66 it can only have been since Noah’s time ; for 
 those woods must have been all destroyed by 
 the flood.” — “ Well, well,” retorted he, im- 
 patiently ; 66 they have had time enough in all 
 conscience to grow since the flood — but you 
 have put it out of my head what the ship’s mate 
 told me.” Then, after recollecting himself, he 
 went on. 66 These same trees, d’ye see, shed 
 their leaves every year, and there they lie on 
 the ground, for there is no one to meddle with 
 them. So when the rain comes they are well 
 soaked, and they become manure, as it were, 
 and help to nourish the soil ; and when once 
 the labour of felling the timber and clearing it 
 away is over, the ground wants nothing more 
 than scratching over with a light plough to be 
 ready for sowing, and it brings forth crops un- 
 heard of!” 
 
 “ And how comes it,” said the wife, “ that 
 America, seeing it is such a large place, and 
 such a fine soil, has so much fewer people to 
 live in it than England ?” 
 
 “ Because,” said Hopkins, “ it is so far away, 
 that it was not found out or known that there 
 was such a country in former times. The mate 
 says, that in those days no ship ventured to sail 
 out so far on an unknown sea : they were not 
 so handy at their rigging as they are now ; nor 
 the ships either so well built or so well managed ; 
 
94 
 
 emigration; or, 
 
 and as for a steam-boat, why, they never so 
 much as heard of such a thing, because they 
 were not then invented.” — “ They must have 
 been but dolts in those times,” cried his wife. 
 “ And how came they to find out America, after 
 all?” 
 
 “ Why, once upon a time, a matter of three 
 hundred years back, the mate says there was 
 one Christopher Columbus, who was a fine, 
 brave fellow, and had set his heart upon doing 
 what no one had ever done before. So he got 
 a ship and sailed on fearless in those unknown 
 seas, till he reached land, and that land was 
 America.” 
 
 “ How pleased he must have been when he 
 first saw it ! ” cried Dame Hopkins ; “ and well 
 he deserved to be pleased, for being so bold ; 
 for there is no saying what might have befallen 
 him, or whether he would ever have found his 
 way home, if he had not met with land.” — “ So 
 the sailors thought,” replied Hopkins ; “for they 
 were all in such a taking, for fear they should 
 sail on for ever without coming to land, that at 
 last they mutinied, and had wellnigh thrown 
 him overboard. Then he begged hard for three 
 days more, and promised, that if at the end of 
 that time they should not see land, he would 
 give all up, and sail homewards. Well, what 
 should turn out, but on the third day, just as 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 95 
 
 they were going about, the sailor at the top of 
 the mast cried out, 6 Land ! ’ and sure enough 
 it was land, for they sailed on a little longer, 
 and then came to America. There is a whole 
 book written about it, and it tells all that hap- 
 pened to them afterwards. They say it is as 
 amusing a book as one could wish to read.” — 
 66 Well,” said the dame, “ this same Christopher 
 Columbus, with his hard name, was a fine dar- 
 ing fellow, and Old England has. reason to be 
 proud of him.” — “ Why, good wife,” returned 
 John, hesitating whether to confess the mortify- 
 ing truth or not, “ Christopher Columbus was 
 not an Englishman, as you might have guessed 
 by his name.” — “ Not an Englishman !” ex- 
 claimed she, lifting up her hands in astonish- 
 ment ; “ who would ever have thought that a 
 foreigner would dare to go where an English 
 sailor had not ventured?” — “ I should not 
 credit it,” said Hopkins, “ if I had not heard it 
 from the ship’s mate at Liverpool ; but I ’ll war- 
 rant he is not mistaken, for he seems to know 
 every thing, especially about those parts. How- 
 ever, we must remember, wife, that we are all 
 God’s creatures alike, English or foreigner, Pro- 
 testant or Papist, Jew or Gentile ; as you may 
 call to mind in the parable of the good Samari- 
 tan, which Patty read to us last Sunday : he was 
 but a foreigner to the Jews, and yet he was 
 worth more than any of them.” 
 
96 
 
 EMIGRATION ; OR, 
 
 ‘ u And are there any other countries besides 
 America where poor folks can earn their bread 
 easier than they can here?” asked Dame Hop- 
 kins. 
 
 “ Yes ; brother Bob tells me there are se- 
 veral, and one above all the rest which he sailed 
 to in one of his voyages ; he declares it a very 
 Paradise for fine weather, beautiful prospects, 
 and abundance of all things — fish, flesh, and 
 fowl, besides fruit and garden-stuff. But then 
 there ’s one thing that would never please you, 
 wife.” 
 
 66 And why not, pray, if it ’s such a pleasant 
 place?” — “ Why, because they send convicts 
 there,” replied her husband. “ However, that 
 don’t so much matter, every thing else being so 
 agreeable. Indeed, Bob says people are but 
 too happy when they can hire some of the con- 
 victs to work for them, hands being scarce.” — 
 “ Mercy on me ! ” exclaimed the wife, “ I should 
 always be fancying they w r ere going to murder 
 me !” — “ Women will have foolish fancies,” 
 replied he ; “ but you would soon be used to 
 them. Then there ’s no danger ; for those that 
 are unruly are made to work in chains, with 
 an overseer to watch them. But many a poor 
 lad has been transported, that poverty has 
 brought to crime ; and when he has worked 
 out his freedom, there’s no reason why he 
 
A NEW WORLD. 
 
 97 
 
 should not turn out as good as his betters who 
 never were transported. Several have been 
 known to thrive and prosper in that country, 
 and bring up their children as Christians 
 should do.” 
 
 “ And pray, what is the name of that coun- 
 try?” enquired the wife. 
 
 <{ It is called Van Diemen’s Land,” replied 
 John ; “ and it lies in the same part of the world 
 as Botany Bay.” 
 
 “ Ay, one may guess that, by the convicts 
 being sent there ; but that is at the end of the 
 world, as one may say. Dick White once got 
 a letter from his brother there, and he said it 
 was well-nigh a year coming.” — “ Yes, it’s a 
 sad long way off, ” said Hopkins ; “ and that 
 makes it the more difficult to get there. All the 
 world would be going to such a pretty place, if 
 the expense of the long passage on board of 
 ship was not so heavy.” 
 
 <s Well, for my part,” returned his wife, “ I 
 don’t like long voyages, because of the sea sick- 
 ness ; and I don’t like convicts, because of 
 their wickedness ; so if it was the very Paradise 
 that Adam and Eve lived in, I would none 
 on ’t ; for I am sure the devil would be behind 
 the bush, in the shape of a serpent, or a con- 
 vict, or some such creature.” 
 
 This set her husband laughing. “ So you 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 EMIGRATION, ETC. 
 
 are after cutting your jokes, are you?” cried 
 he. “ Well, it is not much more that women 
 know about such matters, and it ’s my belief 
 that I have only just been losing my time, in 
 telling you all about it.” So he took up his 
 hat and walked off : while his wife, who liked 
 to have the last word, called after him — “ A 
 Paradise full of convicts, forsooth ! Why, it ’s 
 more like a prison by half.” 
 
THE POOR’S RATE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 “ Good morrow to you, Dame Hopkins,” said 
 Farmer Stubbs, as he entered her cottage ; 
 “ how fares it with you and your family?” 
 
 “ Pretty well in health, thank you, sir,” said 
 she, wiping a chair with a corner of her apron 
 for him to sit down; “ but, with such a family 
 as ours, it ’s a hard matter to make all ends 
 meet; and, indeed, we never could do it with- 
 out the help of the parish. John is just gone 
 down to get the weekly allowance.” 
 
 “ Indeed ! I thought Hopkins held himself 
 above receiving relief from the parish.” 
 
 “ And so he did till the children were well- 
 nigh starved. Ah ! I shall never forget it. It ’s 
 just two years come Michaelmas, we had five 
 of them ill of the measles at once ; and there 
 were but four got through it,” added she, a tear 
 starting from her eye. “ And, as soon as the 
 fever was off, though the poor things were so 
 h 2 
 
100 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 weak they could scarce crawl about, they had 
 such craving appetites, and a morsel of food 
 did them so much good, that, when I had not 
 enough to satisfy their hunger, I told John I 
 could bear it no longer ; 6 So bring down your 
 proud spirit/ said I, ‘ and go and claim your 
 dues. We have as much right to the parish 
 money as others; ay, and a better right than 
 many of our neighbours, who make no scruple 
 about it. It is better to come to the parish 
 than to come to be beggars ; and I would 
 rather ask alms than see my children starve/ 
 Then John said, c I had thought to have gone 
 through the world without demeaning myself 
 by asking aught of the parish ; ’ and I do think 
 that a tear came into his eye; but I did not 
 dare notice it. So he took his hat, and trudged 
 off with a heavy heart; and, to this very day, 
 he never goes with a light one : but,” added 
 she, with a sigh, C( use blunts the edge of things 
 we can’t help.” 
 
 “ True enough, you can’t help it now,” re- 
 turned the farmer ; “ but, if your husband had 
 been a prudent man, and had belonged to the 
 benefit club, he might have got relief when his 
 children were sick, without going to the parish.” 
 
 “ Ay, but that weekly sixpence, to be paid 
 down every Saturday, when, God knows, we 
 have a sixpence too little when the day comes 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 101 
 
 round, rather than one to spare for the club.* 
 Sixpence seems a mighty small matter to you, 
 Master Stubbs; but, to come every week, it’s 
 a heavy call upon a man with so large a family 
 as ours.” 
 
 “ He should not have had such a large 
 family, dame, if he could not provide for them 
 in sickness and in health ; for he knows that 
 sickness and trouble is the lot of man in this 
 world.” 
 
 “ We have good reason to know it,” retorted 
 Dame Hopkins, who was nettled at the farmer’s 
 rebuke ; “ for we have had our full share. And, 
 as for the number of our children, we know 
 pretty well, by experience, the hardships that 
 brings on us, too ; and has not John been 
 breaking off the match between George and 
 Betsy Bloomfield on purpose?” 
 
 “ A very prudent step,” replied the cautious 
 farmer: “but here he comes. — Well, John, 
 how much have you got from the overseers ?” 
 
 “ Not more than I had need of,” answered 
 John, sulkily, as if he thought that was no 
 business of Farmer Stubbs. — “ Why, I want 
 to know how much of it comes out of my 
 pocket, man,” said Stubbs. 
 
 46 And if some of it does,” retorted John, “ I 
 
 * Many of the benefits of Friendly Societies may be insured 
 at a smaller rate of payment than sixpence a week. 
 
 H 3 
 
102 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 owe you no thanks ; for it is not I that take it 
 from you, but the law of the land.” 
 
 Ay, but if you, and such as you, did not 
 come to want, the law of the land would not 
 meddle with my money.” 
 
 “ You are well to do in the world, and can 
 afford to pay the poor’s rate; and let me tell 
 you, that if you have little pleasure in paying 
 it, why, we have not much in receiving it. It 
 is dealt out in such a niggardly, grudging man- 
 ner, and with such a surly tone, that one would 
 think the overseers were giving you their 
 own.” 
 
 u Why, for that matter, they pay pretty 
 heavily towards it ; so they have some cause to 
 be discontented.” 
 
 “ Well, it is hard,” said John, “ to grudge 
 us the only law that is made to favour the poor, 
 when there are so many to favour the rich.” 
 
 “ Why, by your own account, John, it is not 
 a good law ; for you allow that it is both paid 
 and received with an ill will.” 
 
 “ Yes ; but it gets us bread, which we can’t 
 do without, either with a good will or a bad 
 one,” said Dame Hopkins ; “ and I don’t take 
 it over kind of you, Master Stubbs, to be snub- 
 bing my good man about the parish money, 
 when I have just been telling you how he hated 
 to go for it.” 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 103 
 
 “ Why, look ye, John,” said the farmer ; “ it 
 is natural enough that I and the overseers, and 
 the rest of us who pay the poor’s rate, should 
 grumble at it. You say I am well to do in the 
 world ; and it is true I have a little property ; 
 but I have a large family as well as you.” 
 
 66 Ay, but they live in clover,” cried John. 
 
 “ Why, I wish to do the best I can by my 
 children, as we all do, and to turn my means to 
 the best account. Well, here are these twenty 
 acres of common I have been turning up: I 
 could have brought them to good account, if I 
 could have bought as much manure and have 
 paid as many hands as the land required to 
 bring it into good order. But while I am 
 reckoning up my means, and turning in my 
 head how I can manage it, in comes the col- 
 lector for the poor’s rate, five shillings in the 
 pound ! and when I complain, he tells me that, 
 besides the large families, there are I don’t 
 know how many able-bodied single men, who 
 can get no work, and must be maintained by 
 the parish. Then, indeed, I fell in a passion, 
 and said, 6 You are going to maintain them in 
 idleness with the very money which I should 
 have paid for their labour, if they had come to 
 work for me.’ — c Oh, they will be ready enough 
 to work for you.’ — ‘ Well,’ replied I, ‘ then 
 leave me the money to pay for them;’ but he 
 h 4 
 
104 
 
 THE POORS RATE; OR, 
 
 answered, 6 You know well enough that I must 
 collect the rate that has been assessed; make 
 what agreement you will afterwards/ — 6 I can 
 make none/ replied I ; 6 when you take away 
 my money you take away my means/ Now, if 
 this happened to me only, you might say that 
 I argued for my own interest; but it happens 
 to every one who pays the poor’s rate through- 
 out the kingdom ; and that not once and away, 
 but every year, regularly, more or less.” 
 
 “ Well, but you don’t reckon fairly,” said 
 John, “ if you say that the rate you pay is all 
 sheer loss ; for, depend on it, if the overseers 
 did not pay a part of the maintenance of chil- 
 dren, farmers would be obliged to give higher 
 wages, else the families would be starved to 
 death ; and then I should be glad to know how 
 you would get your work done?” 
 
 “ I would willingly pay higher wages, and 
 employ more hands, too, could I once be rid of 
 this poor’s rate ; for then I should get the value 
 of 4 my money in labour ; whilst now I get 
 nothing in return, and it goes to support a set 
 of vagabonds who can’t get work. And I will 
 tell you why; — because they won’t seek it, and 
 because their labour is not worth having : and 
 so these lazy fellows are employed idling their 
 time away over some parish labour ; and taking 
 away the money that would have employed an 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 105 
 
 honest, hard-working man, and have enabled 
 him to have maintained his family without going 
 upon the parish.” 
 
 44 Get me paid wages enough to maintain my 
 family, and I promise you the overseers shall 
 not see my face again.” 
 
 46 But you have such a swarm of children, 
 John : now I pay a man the value of the work 
 he does for me, without minding the number 
 
 7 o 
 
 of his children; for that is his business, not 
 mine.” 
 
 44 Then the poor’s rate must make up what ’s 
 wanting,” cried Dame Hopkins ; 44 for mothers 
 won’t let their own flesh and blood starve : and, 
 if they can’t maintain them by their labour, why, 
 they would beg, borrow, or steal, sooner than 
 come to that. And as for the poor’s rate, 
 Master Stubbs, there can be no harm in taking 
 what the law gives you.” 
 
 44 1 tell you it is a bad law : bad for the rich : 
 because it hinders them from employing the 
 poor (at least so far as the rate goes) ; bad for 
 the poor, because it encourages them to in- 
 crease and multiply, till they come to rags and 
 starvation. Let me ask you, Hopkins, — when 
 you married, had not you an eye to parish 
 relief, in case you should come to distress?” 
 
 44 Mayhap I might : and sure, a prudent man 
 ought to look forward to the changes and 
 
106 
 
 the poor’s rate ; OR. 
 
 chances that may happen in life; for then he is 
 the better able to provide for them when they 
 do come.” 
 
 “ Better provide against their coming at all,” 
 replied Stubbs ; “ but you counted not on your 
 own efforts, but on the parish for helping you 
 in distress.” 
 
 “ And could I do better, when the law makes 
 such a provision for those that come to poverty, 
 and can’t help themselves out of it?” 
 
 “ They would not have got into it if the law 
 did not make such a provision for them. You 
 yourself own you would not have married so 
 early, had you not reckoned on the parish. 
 Others would not either: families would have 
 been smaller ; labourers would have been fewer ; 
 they would more easily have got employment; 
 ay, and have been better paid too.” 
 
 “ Why, that is just all I have been telling my 
 wife ; but I never thought the poor’s rate had 
 any thing to do with it. I am sure our dis- 
 tress all comes from having too many children ; 
 not from the poor’s rate, which helps to main- 
 tain them.” 
 
 “ But what is it encourages large families?” 
 cried Stubbs : “ why, the poor’s rate.” — “ What 
 is it lowers wages?” retorted John: 6 6 why, the 
 poor’s rate ; you can’t deny that.” 
 
 “ No, I don’t ; but I tell you again it ’s the 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 107 
 
 poor’s rate that brings them to the brink of 
 starvation ; for, is it not large families, low 
 wages, and want of work, that does it? Ay, 
 and it is not receiving it only that does the 
 damage; for, paying it, many a time, brings 
 those to poverty who would else have been 
 able to keep their heads above water.” 
 
 “ That ’s true enough of one I saw this morn- 
 ing at the vestry,” said John ; “ and a hard 
 matter I had to see her ; for she wrapped herself 
 up in her cloak, and pulled her bonnet over her 
 face: but my heart misgave me, it was the 
 widow Dixon ; and so I turned short upon her; 
 and, when she saw me right before her, the 
 blood came up into her face, which is, you 
 know, as white as a sheet, and has been so ever 
 since she lost poor Dixon, except round her 
 eyes. And when I asked her how she came to 
 be so reduced (thinking her husband had left 
 her pretty well off), she said, i No, Master Hop- 
 kins; he did all he could not to bring me down 
 to a lower station while he lived ; but his means 
 were but small, and the profits of our little shop 
 did but just serve to maintain us. We should 
 have laid by a trifle every year, if it had not 
 been for the poor’s rate ; but that ate up all our 
 savings. However, I ought not to complain of 
 it now, since it brings me relief ; but it is hard 
 to have shame and sorrow come upon me at 
 
108 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 once : ’ and the tears ran down her cheeks. I 
 told her there was no shame in taking her own 
 again. She, who had paid it so long, had more 
 right to it than any of us. She said, 6 God’s 
 will be done ! ’ but she looked as though sor- 
 row and shame would break her heart. It was 
 sad to see her.” 
 
 " And why should you needs be thrusting 
 yourself upon her,” cried his wife, “ when you 
 saw she had no mind to be noticed? You 
 should just have let her have her way, poor 
 woman, since you could not give her any help.” 
 “ Ay, but it lightens the load upon the heart 
 when any one gives you a good word and a kind 
 look, as much as to say, 6 You should not have 
 come to this pass if I could have helped you;’ 
 for the widow Dixon thinks more of the disgrace 
 than of the want of bread, or she would not 
 have been so shamefaced.” 
 
 “ Well, if the poor’s rate goes on increasing 
 and increasing, as it has done of late years, it 
 is what we shall all come to at last,” said the 
 farmer; “ and then who is to pay it?” 
 
 “ Nay, it will never come to that pass, Master 
 Stubbs.” 
 
 “ Mayhap v not; but the time may come when 
 the collector will not be able to raise the rate 
 that is assessed : and that time is well-nigh come 
 in some parts of the country, as I can tell you, 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 109 
 
 John, of my own knowledge; for, bad as the 
 poor’s rate is here, there are some places in 
 which it is still worse; that is some comfort.” 
 “Much good may it do you, Farmer Stubbs ; 
 but, to my mind, it is a poor comfort that comes 
 from the distress of one’s neighbour.” 
 
 “ As for that,” returned Stubbs, “ there is 
 not much neighbourhood in the matter ; for I 
 am talking of the counties in the south of 
 England, and that is some hundred miles off.” 
 
 “ Ay, but what does the Scripture teach us, 
 Master Stubbs?” said Dame Hopkins; “to 
 love our neighbour as ourselves ; and that neigh- 
 bour, the parson tells us, does not mean the 
 next door neighbour only, no, nor the next 
 market town, but every body and every where. 
 So we ought not to get comfort from our neigh- 
 bour’s trouble any more than from our own.” 
 
 “ Well, but how is the poor’s rate managed 
 in the south ?” said John. 
 
 “ Why, I will tell you,” replied Stubbs, “ if 
 your dame has ended her sermon. The men 
 are paid according to the number of their 
 children, not according to the value of their 
 work.” 
 
 “ Well, but, asking your pardon, Master 
 Stubbs, you said a bit ago, that farmers care 
 much more for the goodness of the workman 
 than for the number of his children ; and that 
 
110 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 they will employ an able-bodied, hard-working 
 man, without asking whether he be married or 
 single.” 
 
 66 To be sure they will ; but let me go on 
 with my story. Well, as I was saying, this 
 regulation began in Berkshire. The magis- 
 trates declared that it was very unfair that the 
 single and the married should get the same 
 wages; and as they could not oblige the farmers 
 to give the one more than the other, they agreed 
 to make up the difference from the poor’s rate. 
 So they made a table of the rate of wages ; say- 
 ing so much would maintain a single man, and 
 then they doubled it for a married man with 
 one or two children ; then it went on so much 
 more for five, and so much more again for 
 seven children. Then, the wages w r ere to de- 
 pend on the price of bread also.” 
 
 “ Well, one must say that was very thought- 
 ful of the magistrates,” exclaimed the good wife, 
 “ and very humane too; I did not think they 
 cared so much about the poor as to portion out 
 his lot to each so fairly and honestly.” 
 
 66 Stop a bit, till you have heard the end of 
 it, dame ; and then, if you give them credit for 
 good-will, you won’t for clear-sightedness. I 
 heard all about it from an uncle of mine, who 
 is a landholder in those parts, and he says the 
 poor’s rate is intolerable to those that have to 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 Ill 
 
 pay it; and as to those it maintains, they are 
 worse off there than in any other part of the 
 country.” 
 
 “ But how is that, when there is such a pro- 
 vision for them ?” 
 
 “ Why, when the regulation was first made, 
 it did well enough, for a while. But no sooner 
 did the young lads find that a married man got 
 double wages, and more, too, if he had several 
 children, than their heads were all agog after 
 getting wives ; for you know it is natural enough 
 they should fancy the girls, when they get the 
 money to boot. My uncle says, that he re- 
 members the time when a decent young man 
 never thought of a wife till he had put by forty 
 or fifty pounds ; and some, much more : but 
 now r , instead of working hard to save up the 
 money, and so getting habits of industry before 
 they marry, they take a wife in order to get the 
 money without working for it, and so begin life 
 with habits of indolence. Why, the magis- 
 trates might just as well have gone about driving 
 the young couples into church, as you would 
 sheep into a fold. Well, the next year, the 
 children swarm, increased rates must be raised; 
 and so it goes on year after year, till the young 
 ones grow up fit for work. But there is no 
 work for such numbers ; and they come more 
 and more upon the parish, till at last the parish 
 
112 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 is forced to give in, and can’t keep to its agree- 
 ment, for no rate will satisfy so many mouths. 
 So then the youngsters fall to grumbling, and 
 after that to poaching and pilfering; for when 
 a man cannot get a livelihood honestly by his 
 labour, he is little like to resist a temptation 
 that falls in his way to get it otherwise, es- 
 pecially when he has been bred up to indo- 
 lence : then come prisons, and trials, and trans- 
 portations, and sometimes the gallows : and 
 though it is no more than their deserts, they 
 won’t put up with it ; and so, at last, they come 
 to rioting, and sending threatening letters, and 
 burning of farms, and all that sort of thing, as 
 you know they did last autumn.” 
 
 “ God forgive them, poor souls !” ejaculated 
 the good wife, “ seeing it is no fault of theirs, 
 but of their parents, who brought them into the 
 world before there was room for them.” 
 
 “ Yes, but they should know how to behave 
 themselves when they are in it,” replied Stubbs. 
 
 “ Where is the use of being industrious and 
 hard-working,” cried John, “ when you get 
 nothing by it? We don’t work for the pleasure 
 of the thing, Master Stubbs, as you well know, 
 but for the gain it brings us ; and if the parish 
 will maintain them without it, they won’t wear 
 themselves out for nothing. And then, as for 
 laying by forty or fifty pounds, as you said they 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 113 
 
 did formerly, why, it would be impossible with 
 these regulations, even if they had no mind to 
 marry ; for, while wages are so low to a single 
 man, be can make no savings.” 
 
 “ When wages were alike to all,” said Stubbs, 
 “ the single man had to spare, and could lay by, 
 though the married one was straitened.” 
 
 o 
 
 66 And do yo call that fair and honest,” said 
 the dame, “ to straiten the man with a family, 
 in order to give the single man more than he 
 can spend ?” 
 
 “ I believe it is wise and prudent, wife,” said 
 Hopkins : u for, instead of driving the lads into 
 wedlock, it would make them keep out of it; at 
 least, till they had got something to maintain a 
 wife and family with.” 
 
 “ True enough,” said Stubbs ; “ so you see 
 that this humane regulation of the magistrates 
 
 o o 
 
 encourages idleness just as much as it encou- 
 rages early marriages, and a superabundance of 
 children.” 
 
 “ But the worst of all,” said the wife, “ is, 
 that it teaches them to be idle, discontented, 
 and riotous, and madly to burn the very ricks 
 of corn that might have made them bread.” 
 
 “ Yes,” continued Stubbs, “ my uncle said, 
 that the labourers now-a-days were quite a dif- 
 ferent race of men from what they used tp be. 
 Their characters quite changed within his rae- 
 i 
 
114 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 mory ; not but there may be some among them 
 right-minded still, but, take the general run, 
 they are a bad set. There was one of them so 
 impudent as to say to his employer, — 6 If you 
 don’t give me better wages, I will marry to- 
 morrow, and then you must maintain me at 
 double cost.’ For the fellow was sharp enough 
 to know, that, though the magistrates paid the 
 difference, it came out of the farmer’s pocket in 
 the shape of poor’s rate.” 
 
 “ But when the parish maintains them, the 
 parish ought to make them work,” said John. 
 
 “ So they do, as far as they can : they send 
 them round to the farmers in gangs, and when 
 the farmer can find them work, they pay the 
 wages to the parish, who let them come off’ 
 cheap, as they help to maintain these paupers.” 
 “ The more fools they ! ” cried John ; “ for 
 the farmer will turn off his labourers at regular 
 wages to employ these cheaper hands, and then 
 these others will come upon the parish too.” 
 
 64 And cruel it is,” said the wife, cc upon those 
 that are turned out of their natural work by 
 these gangs, and so forced to go upon the parish 
 themselves.” 
 
 C£ However,” continued Stubbs, “ the farmers 
 find they make no great savings by employing 
 these gangs of roundsmen, as they call them, 
 for they don’t do half the work of a common 
 day labourer.” 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 115 
 
 “Why should they?” cried John — “ do 
 little, do much, they get no reward but their 
 maintenance; just like an ox, or a horse, that 
 won’t work without the whip.” 
 
 “ Or like the negro slaves in theWest Indies,” 
 said Stubbs, “ who want the whip, too, to stir 
 their indolence.” 
 
 “ What a sin and a shame,” cried the dame, 
 “ to use men like brute beasts ! ” 
 
 “ Why, it all comes of your fair, honest, and 
 humane regulations made by the magistrates,” 
 cried the farmer, laughing at her. 
 
 “ It is no laughing matter, methinks, Master 
 Stubbs : you may be in the right, and I in the 
 wrong; and if I am, why I am free to confess 
 it. But I can’t but think that, in all this talk, 
 you have had more an eye to your own interest 
 than to the good of others.” 
 
 “ And if my interest, and the good of others, 
 go along together, cheek by jowl, where is the 
 harm of thinking of one’s own interest? Let us 
 each take care of number one, say I.” 
 
 “ No objection to that,” said the dame, “ if 
 you don’t forget number two when your in- 
 terests don’t jog on together.” 
 
 “ Well, I maintain that it would be for the 
 good of one and all to put down these poor’s 
 rates. Did you ever hear what a sum they 
 amount to ? — Why, above six millions.” 
 
 1 2 
 
116 
 
 the poor’s rate; or, 
 
 “ Gracious me!” cried the wife, 66 what a 
 power of money that must be !” 
 
 “ Well, and all this to be employed in doing 
 more harm than good, — for I don’t pretend to 
 say that it does no good. No ; when the large 
 families are there, and distress and poverty keep 
 close at their heels, then the poor’s rate lends a 
 helping hand, it is true. But it is a treacherous 
 friend, that pretends to do a mighty deal of 
 good by giving you a mouthful, after it has 
 taken away a whole meal. You don’t think of 
 the lost meal, because you never saw it, and 
 don’t understand it. But just think a bit; if 
 this enormous sum of money, instead of being 
 paid in poor’s rate, was employed in setting 
 people to work ; why, the poor w'ould earn the 
 same money by labour that they get now as 
 paupers, and the hard-working and industrious 
 would come in for the best share, which now 
 falls to the lot of idle vagabonds.” 
 
 “ There is some sense in all that, no doubt,” 
 said John ; but still, though we should get the 
 money another way, there would not be enough 
 for all, any more than there is now.” 
 
 66 1 don’t know that,” replied Farmer Stubbs, 
 for the poor’s rate is the root of the evil ; and 
 if you cut down the tree, root and branch, there 
 is no saying how’ much good may come of it. 
 Poor folks would not marry so early in life, and 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 117 
 
 have such swarms of children ; in the course of 
 time labourers would be less numerous, and 
 they would get higher wages ; and so, after a 
 while, all would be set to rights.” 
 
 “ If there never had been any poor’s rate, 
 perhaps it would have been better; but now 
 that we have the large families, and the low 
 wages, and the want of work, we can’t do with- 
 out it.” 
 
 <c The more is the harm of having brought 
 the poor to such a condition,” said Stubbs ; 
 “ but it might be done by degrees.” 
 
 “ I don’t see how, except by starving half our 
 children ; and I sha’n’t agree to that, I promise 
 you.” 
 
 66 Mercy on me ! ” interposed the wife, rais- 
 ing up her hands, “ how can you talk after that 
 manner, husband ? And how can you put such 
 thoughts into his head, Master Stubbs?” 
 
 “ No, no, I am not so hard-hearted as that 
 comes to,” said Stubbs : “ but suppose a law 
 was made that no child born after three or four 
 years from this time should be entitled to parish 
 relief, why, that would give time for people to 
 think of the consequences ; large families would 
 thus be discouraged; and when those who re- 
 ceive relief from the parish died off in the course 
 of nature, why, the poor’s rate would die a na- 
 tural death too ; for if there was none to want 
 i 3 
 
118 
 
 the poor’s rate ; OR, 
 
 it, it would not be raised ; so the landholders 
 would get their own again, the labourers higher 
 wages and plenty of work, and the world would 
 jog on merrily.” 
 
 u Ay, but do what you will, Master Stubbs, 
 a poor man is always falling in with bad luck ; 
 first there is sickness ; then there are acci- 
 dents.” 
 
 “ Here and there a case,” said Stubbs ; “ but 
 that is not an every-day evil : besides, when a 
 man gets good wages, he may put aside a penny 
 against the unlucky day, and lock it up safe in 
 the club-box, that he may not be tempted in a 
 merry freak to spend it at the alehouse ; or, what 
 is better still, he may put it in the savings* bank, 
 where it is safe and sure, and gives you interest 
 into the bargain. Besides, you know, John, 
 that in case of accident there is no want of hos- 
 pitals, where there are as skilful doctors, and as 
 handy nurses, as the rich have themselves. And 
 then the great folks are, many of them, very 
 good to the poor in case of need, and would do 
 still more for them when they knew they had 
 not the parish to go to for help.” 
 
 “ Well, it is a hard matter to understand the 
 right and the wrong of these things,” said John ; 
 66 and if we did not feel them any more than we 
 can understand them, why, I should not trouble 
 my head about them. But a hungry stomach 
 
THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 
 
 119 
 
 is apt to make one discontented, and turn it in 
 one’s mind how things might be changed for 
 the better. They are bad enough now, God 
 knows ! so I am one that would not object to 
 make trial of some change, if it were done fairly 
 and softly.” 
 
 “ Well, I hope we shall live to see it,” said 
 the farmer, taking up his hat; “ and so a good 
 day to you, John ; and to you, too, dame, if you 
 bear me no ill-will.” 
 
 Dame Hopkins contented herself with drop- 
 ping him a slight curtsy as he went out; and 
 no sooner was he gone than she exclaimed, 
 “ Have a care, John, how you lend an ear to 
 that man, though he is one of your betters ; for 
 it is as clear as broad day that he thinks of 
 nothing but his own good.” 
 
 “ Ay, one may see that with half an eye,” 
 said John ; “ but for all that, he has his wits 
 about him, and knows more than I do of these 
 matters: and I can’t but think that what he 
 said was very near the truth.” 
 
 “ True or false,” cried the dame, “ I can’t 
 abide to hear him talk in so hard-hearted a 
 manner.” 
 
 “ Ay, but the matter is much more to the 
 point than the manner; and I do agree with 
 him, that, if we understood it rightly, the in- 
 terest of the rich and poor might go hand in 
 i 4 
 
120 
 
 THE POOR’S RATE, ETC. 
 
 hand, like a loving man and wife, who, though 
 they may fall out now and then, jog on together 
 till death parts them.” 
 
 “ Ah, John ! if the husband were rich, and 
 the wife poor, they would not long go on lovingly 
 together.” 
 
 “ Well, you w’on’t believe me, because you 
 don’t understand it; but come, now, Tom shall 
 read you a fable, and an apt one it is, — it shows 
 how the rich stand in need of the poor, as much 
 as the poor in need of the rich ; and if so, their 
 interests must lie the same way.” 
 
 Then he called Tom to bring his book, and 
 bade him read the Fable of the Belly and the 
 Members. 
 
 Tom, who had been some time monitor at 
 the Village School, began in an audible voice, 
 and we shall leave them to their lecture. 
 
MACHINERY ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 
 
 Jackson, a poor weaver, had all his life sup- 
 ported himself by working at the hand-loom. 
 At length, finding that he could no longer gain 
 a livelihood in this manner, he made up his 
 mind to go to America. Before setting off, 
 however, he went round the village to take 
 leave of his friends ; and when he came to the 
 cottage of Hopkins, who was standing at his 
 door, he was thus accosted by him : • — 
 
 “ So then, neighbour Jackson, you are off for 
 America, are you ? Well, good luck go with 
 you ! I have heard it ’s a rare place for wages ; 
 but it ’s a strange land, and there ’s no telling 
 the changes and chances that may happen be- 
 fore you get well settled there.” 
 
 “ Happen what may,” replied Jackson, “ I 
 have no choice but to go there or to the parish ; 
 and it shall not be said of me that, able to work, 
 and without encumbrances, I became a burden 
 to my country. I ’ve staid here year after year, 
 
122 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 struggling and striving to get a livelihood in 
 my old calling, but all to no purpose: since the 
 invention of the power-loom, it’s all over with 
 us at the hand-loom. We work both harder 
 and later to endeavour to make all ends meet, 
 but there ’s no standing against these new ma- 
 chines ; they do the work of a dozen of us. 
 ft Ay,” continued he, with a sigh, “ machinery 
 will be the ruin of us all one day or other. 
 They are for ever finding out something that 
 will do the work cheaper than we can ; and 
 unless we could work without wages, like their 
 machines, that have neither hungry stomachs 
 to feed nor helpless children to rear, we have 
 no chance for it. Why, I remember the time 
 when I made no less than twenty shillings a 
 week by my hand-loom ; but now, that the 
 power-loom does as much work for the value of 
 three or four shillings, they will give me no 
 more, without considering how much more 
 labour it costs me.” 
 
 <c It’s natural enough,” replied Hopkins, 
 “ that the masters will get their work done at 
 the cheapest rate ; in the way of business, men 
 look to their interest, and nothing else.” 
 
 This was poor consolation to Jackson ; and 
 it pleased him little better when Hopkins ad- 
 vised him to turn his hand to some other work: 
 for he had stuck so closely to the hand-loom all 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 123 
 
 his life, that he thought there was no other pos- 
 sible means of gaining his livelihood. — “ Well, 
 perhaps,” said Hopkins, “ you had rather try 
 your luck in another country ; and having nei- 
 ther wife nor children, you may be right to risk 
 the venture.” 
 
 “ Though I have neither wife nor child,” 
 replied Jackson, “ I have no wish to leave my 
 own country and my kinsfolk ; but when you 
 have been used to one sort of work all the days 
 of your life, it’s no such easy matter to turn 
 your hand to another. And, besides, if you 
 did so,” added he, “ no sooner is a man again 
 settled in an honest way of earning his bread, 
 than there is some other new machine or in- 
 vention that does the work cheaper, and so he 
 is again turned adrift. It ’s my turn now, neigh- 
 bour Hopkins, but it will be yours by and by : 
 for, it ’s my belief, they will never stop finding 
 out new helps till they come to tilling the 
 ground with machines, as well as using them 
 in factories.” 
 
 “ Why, for that matter,” cried Hopkins, 
 u they do so already, sure enough ; for the 
 plough is a machine, to all intents and purposes.” 
 
 “ Ay,” retorted Jackson, “ they say that once 
 upon a time it was all spade husbandry. What 
 numbers of men must have been employed in 
 digging the cornfields ! There could have 
 
124 
 
 MACHINERY ; OR, 
 
 been no lack of work then.” — “ No, but a 
 sad lack of corn,” replied Hopkins ; “ work as 
 hard as they would, they could never produce 
 half so much as the plough. Now, the people 
 can get no more corn than there is to be had; 
 you will grant me that ? ” 
 
 66 There *s no denying it ; for it ’s as clear as 
 that two and two make four.” 
 
 66 Ay, and what/s more,” continued Hopkins, 
 “ the poor won’t get all there is to be had ; for 
 the rich will have the largest share ; which is 
 natural enough, they having the most money to 
 pay for what they want. Now, corn raised by 
 the spade would be very scarce ; and what is 
 very scarce is very dear, as we all know ; so we 
 poor folk should scarcely get bread enough to 
 keep life and soul together. Besides,” added 
 Hopkins (when he found that Jackson had not 
 a word to answer), 66 if you are so averse to 
 machines, a spade is a machine as well as a 
 plough ; so, if you are for doing away with 
 machines, one and all, you must destroy the 
 spade as well as the plough, and fall to scratch- 
 ing up the ground with your hands, like very 
 savages. A famous improvement that would 
 be, indeed ! and I should like to know how 
 much corn we should raise after that fashion?” 
 <c Nay,” replied Jackson, “ now you are run- 
 ning into extremes ; there ’s a wide difference 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 125 
 
 between scratching up the earth with hands, 
 and doing nothing at all with them. I don’t 
 say that all machines that help us on with out- 
 work are bad. A hand-loom is good enough, 
 it has gained me a livelihood many a year ; but 
 the power-loom is the very devil.” 
 
 cc Suppose that, in after-times,” said Hopkins, 
 “ a machine should be invented that would cut 
 out the power-loom, just as the power-loom has 
 cut out the hand-loom ; would not the weavers 
 at the power-loom call their own a good ma- 
 chine, and the new invention the very devil?” 
 Jackson could make no reply : but he knew 
 that the argument afforded him no relief, so he 
 returned to the old point, and said, — “ But I 
 don’t allow that the spade is a machine ; it is 
 but a simple tool at best.” — “ Well,” replied 
 Hopkins, “ in my mind, a machine, a tool, an 
 implement, or an instrument, is all one. Besides, 
 what matters the name ? I call machinery, 
 whatever helps us to make things easier or 
 better than we could do with our naked hands, 
 whether it be a spade or a pickaxe, a hammer 
 or a chisel, or the great steam engine that sets 
 all the cotton-winders’ machines a-going.” 
 
 (t Well, but granting the spade to be a ma- 
 chine,” replied Jackson, it ’s one that does us 
 no harm. It can’t turn us out of work, for 
 there must be a man to every spade ; just as 
 
126 
 
 MACHINERY J OR, 
 
 there is a man to every hand-loom. And those 
 are the only right sort of machines, I maintain, ” 
 said he, raising his voice, and laying a stronger 
 emphasis on his words as he felt himself stronger 
 in his argument: “they help you on, instead of 
 turning you off. Whilst the machines, that do 
 the work of twenty men, and require only one 
 to manage it, throw nineteen out of work ; that ’s 
 clear. No, a spade and a hand-loom for my 
 money; with a man tacked to each of them.*’ 
 Having finished this phrase, he stood looking 
 with an air of triumph at Hopkins, whom he 
 thought he had now fairly mastered. 
 
 “ Why,” said Hopkins, casting a look at 
 him somewhat between a smile and a sneer, 
 “ that’s just the reason they are not used. For, 
 look ye, if every spade must have his man, 
 every man must have his wages ; so that it 
 would cost the farmer a mint of money to raise 
 corn by the spade.” 
 
 “ What care I for the farmer?” cried Jack- 
 son, vexed to be again crossed, when he thought 
 he had made out his point. “ It is better to c 
 care for the poor who eat the bread, than for 
 the rich who grow it.” 
 
 “ Ay, but what costs dear to grow, cannot 
 be sold cheap, and that ’s what the poor look 
 to. Unless, indeed,” continued Hopkins, laugh- 
 ing, “ men can gain a livelihood by driving a 
 losing trade.” 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 127 
 
 “ I ’m no such fool as to think that a farmer 
 will sell his corn for less than it cost him to 
 raise,” said Jackson ; “ he ought to get a fair 
 and reasonable profit too.” 
 
 « Well, then,” said Hopkins, “ a plough, 
 with a team of oxen, or of horses, and a couple 
 of men, will do the work of fifty spades ; and 
 the corn, being raised so much the cheaper, 
 will be sold the cheaper. The poor will be 
 able to pay the price of it, and will be better 
 supplied with it.” 
 
 « Yet it is well known,” said Jackson, “ that 
 the spade breaks up the ground better than the 
 plough ; else, why is it used in gardens ?” 
 
 “ I don’t deny that the spade is the best in- 
 strument of the two,” replied Hopkins ; “ but 
 for all that it would not raise so much corn as 
 the plough ; because farmers could not afford 
 to employ spades enough, and the poor could 
 not afford to pay the price of corn raised by 
 spade husbandry. Take my word for it, that 
 it is because the plough digs up our fields, the 
 drill sows our corn, the thrashing machine 
 beats it, and the wind or water mill grinds it ; 
 that bread does not cost one half of what it 
 would, were these cheap means of producing 
 and preparing it unknown. And should more 
 new contrivances be made to till the land easier, 
 and make bread cheaper, why, so much the 
 better, say I.” 
 
128 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 Jackson, finding that he was not a match for 
 Hopkins, had no other resource than to stick ob- 
 stinately to his old argument, — “ that if all work 
 was done by machines, those who had no means 
 of living but by their labour must starve.” 
 
 “ We are apt to say,” replied Hopkins, “ that 
 we live by our labour ; but that ’s only a way 
 of speaking; for labour would rather be the 
 death of us than make us live, if it was not for 
 the wages it brought us.” 
 
 “ Well, methinks it is you, Hopkins, who 
 are speaking after an odd fashion ; we are none 
 of us such fools as not to know that labour, on 
 the long run, wears us out, and that when we 
 say we live by our labour, we mean by the 
 wages we earn by it. Nay, indeed, if you are 
 so particular, we do not live by wages either, 
 for we can neither eat nor drink, nor wear the 
 wages we get. They are of no use to us till we 
 spend them ; so that we live on what our wages 
 will buy.” — “ Ay, you are in the right road 
 now,” cried Hopkins. “ And the cheaper 
 things are, the more we can buy with our 
 wages ; eh, Jackson ?” 
 
 “ Sure enough,” returned the latter. 
 
 66 Well, then,” continued Hopkins, 66 which 
 is the way to have things cheap and plenty ? 
 Is it by making them by the hands of man, or 
 with such helps as mills and steam engines, 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 129 
 
 which receive no wages, but are set a going by 
 a puff of wind or a bubble of steam, or a stream 
 of cold water, good creatures, that do the work 
 of hundreds of men, and all free cost ; and yet, 
 instead of being thankful, you fall abusing 
 them.” 
 
 Jackson, who had felt his losses too bitterly 
 to be easily satisfied, replied — “ I grant you 
 they work cheaper, and mayhap better than we 
 do ; but I say it again, what ’s that to us who 
 are turned adrift by them ? If we have no 
 work, we have no wages, and then we have no 
 means of getting at the goods be they cheap 
 or dear.” 
 
 “ There ’s no factory that can go alone,” 
 replied Hopkins : “ there are always men and 
 women, ay, and children too, wanted to man- 
 age the machinery. — Now, answer me this one 
 question. Do you think that as machines im- 
 prove, and new ones are invented, there are 
 more or fewer people employed in factories 
 than before ?” — 66 Fewer, no doubt,” said Jack' 
 son, u by just the number thrown out of work 
 by the new or improved machinery.” 
 
 “ So it is, if you look no further than your 
 nose,” answered Hopkins. “ You never think 
 of the increase of work at the factories in con- 
 sequence of the new machinery ; and of the 
 number of people in the end employed in them. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 MACHINERY ; OR, 
 
 I have heard old Master Spires, who has had 
 no less than fifty years’ experience in the manu- 
 facturing line, say, that when first spinning- 
 mills were set up, numbers of hand spinners 
 could no longer get their bread, the mills doing 
 the work so much cheaper than the spinning- 
 wheel. So there was great alarm among the 
 people, and rioting to such a pitch, that several 
 of the mills were destroyed ; but at last the 
 mills were built up again, and the rioters put 
 down.” — “ Ay,” interrupted Jackson, “ that ’s 
 the way of the w orld ; the rich are the strongest, 
 and always gain their point in the end.” 
 
 “ Well, but let us see what that end is,” 
 cried Hopkins. “ Old Spires told me, that no 
 more than ten years after the setting up of the 
 spinning-mills, the trade increased so much, in 
 consequence of the goods being cheaper, that 
 the number of people employed, both as spin- 
 ners or weavers, was no less than forty times as 
 many as when the spinning was done by hand. 
 So, you see, that if the folks were thrown out 
 of work one while, they had ample amends 
 afterwards.” 
 
 “ Ay, but they might have been all starved 
 before the ten years were out.” 
 
 “ Why, look ye, Jackson ; the mills did not 
 employ forty times as many all on a sudden, as 
 it were, at the end of ten years. No, it in- 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 131 
 
 creased by degrees. When the mills were first 
 set up they began on a small scale. Let us 
 say, that they turned half of the hand spinners 
 out of work. At the end of a twelvemonth the 
 trade, perhaps, had increased so much, that all 
 those who had forsaken their wheels might find 
 work at the mills, if they chose it. The next 
 year the mills would perhaps employ double 
 the number, and so go on regularly increasing, 
 till at the end of ten years they set to work 
 forty times as many as gained their livelihood 
 by spinning before the mills were set up.” 
 Finding Jackson had nothing to reply, Hopkins 
 went on : — “ Master Spires told me another 
 story, about an old crone, who was somewhat of 
 ,your way of thinking, Jackson. — 4 She was sit- 
 ting at her wheel/ said he, 4 in the chimney- 
 corner, and grumbling at me who was con- 
 cerned in the factory, because she could not get 
 half so much by her spinning as she did for- 
 merly. Just then the bell at the mills rung, 
 and the people were let out from work. Soon 
 after, in came two men, three women, and four 
 or five children, who were all grandchildren or 
 great-grandchildren of the old woman. — 4 And 
 what do these get by their work?’ said Spires; 
 
 4 twenty times as much as you ever made by 
 your wheel, I’ll warrant?’ But she would not 
 listen to reason, and fell abusing the factory, 
 
132 
 
 MACHINERY ; OR, 
 
 insisting that the old times were the best. I 
 asked her how much she gave for a cotton 
 gown in those good old times. 4 Why, I never 
 had one to my back,’ replied she. 4 Cotton 
 gowns were only made for our betters in those 
 days ; for they cost a power of money far 
 beyond our reach.’ — 6 Well,’ said Spires, 
 4 look at your grandchildren ; the lads have 
 cotton shirts, and the lasses neat cotton gowns; 
 and I’ll be bound to say, they do not cost them 
 more than five shillings each ; whilst I know 
 that in the days of your youth they cost a 
 guinea, or more. And why are they so much 
 cheaper now ? Because the cotton is spun and 
 woven at the factory .’ — 6 Umph !’ cried she, 
 drawing herself up ; 4 they might have worn 
 stuff gowns as their betters did before them.’ — 
 4 Ay, but,’ said one of the lads, 4 we could 
 not wear stuff shirts, grandam .’ — 4 And as for 
 stuff gowns,’ said a smart looking girl, turning 
 up her nose with a look of contempt : 4 they 
 are not half so nice and so clean as cotton ones, 
 for summer at least .’ — 4 Besides,’ said Spires, 
 4 stuffs are made in a factory as well as cot- 
 tons.’ The old woman still stood out for the 
 good old times, so Spires thought he would 
 take her upon another tack, and asked her 
 what she paid for stockings in the days of her 
 youth ? 4 Nothing at all,’ answered she ; 4 for 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 133 
 
 I was fain to go barefooted : stockings were too 
 dear, and we never found the want of them.’ — 
 
 * Then, why not do without them now, and 
 spend the money in something you do want ? 
 But, methinks, you would be loth to part with 
 that pair of worsted stockings that keep your 
 feet so warm and comfortable ; and your grand- 
 children would not be willing to part with 
 theirs either, for the comfort or the look of it.’ 
 — 6 There’s no need we should,’ cried the old 
 crone ; ‘ they are cheap enough now for us to 
 afford to wear them .’ — 6 And why?’ replied 
 Spires : 6 because they were woven in a loom, 
 and made with half the usual labour that was 
 bestowed on them when they were knitted. — 
 Look ye, goody,’ added he ; 6 not only is this 
 large family of yours supplied with food and 
 clothing by machinery, but some of them may 
 owe their very lives to it ; for they might have 
 died from want, had there been no factory 
 here.’ — ‘ For that matter,’ cried the dame, 
 6 it pleased the Lord to take more than half 
 my children ; for I had twelve born alive, and 
 I reared only four .’ — 6 That was in the good 
 old times said Spires,’ smiling archly. 6 But 
 tell me, have you lost half your grandchildren ? ? 
 — ‘ No,’ replied she ; 6 their mothers had bet- 
 ter luck. I have had sixteen grandchildren 
 born and only six died.’ — ‘ No luck in the 
 
134 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 case/ replied Spires ; ‘ only the children were 
 better provided for, and it is the will of God, 
 that children should die, when their parents 
 either do not or cannot provide for them. So, 
 it ’s my belief, that these likely lads and buxom 
 lasses not only owe their cotton shirts and 
 gowns to the factory, but one half of them their 
 lives to it also/ — And he was right,” con- 
 tinued Hopkins ; “ there ’s no reckoning up 
 the good that comes of machinery one way or 
 other. We manufacture goods not only for 
 ourselves, but for almost every other country, 
 as I ’ve heard say ; and why ? Because we 
 can make goods cheaper, and all on account of 
 the superiority of our machinery. I tell you 
 there ’s no country has so many factories as 
 Old England ; and there ’s none employ so 
 many hands. How, then, can machinery pre- 
 vent labour ? on the contrary, it increases it, 
 and affords a maintenance to thousands.” Hop- 
 kins now stopped, fairly out of breath, and left 
 time for Jackson to observe, that other coun- 
 tries had factories as well as England. “ They 
 have,” replied Hopkins ; “ they are always 
 after copying our machinery ; but John Bull 
 is a shrewd fellow, and contrives to keep a-head 
 of them all. He has a quick insight and a 
 ready hand, and is for ever inventing some- 
 thing new to improve his machinery, and get 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 135 
 
 the work done better or cheaper than his 
 neighbours, so as to be able to undersell them.” 
 Jackson could answer nothing but a repeti- 
 tion of his old complaint ; he declared, that the 
 new inventions made the fortunes of the master 
 manufacturers, but starved the labourers. 
 
 The patience of Hopkins was well-nigh ex- 
 hausted, at having this argument again brought 
 forward, when he thought he had completely 
 refuted it ; but he was so desirous to bring 
 round Jackson to his way of thinking, that he 
 determined to make another trial. — “ Yours is 
 a hard case, Jackson, I allow r ,” said he ; “ and 
 it is that which blinds you to the truth ; but 
 there cannot be many cases like yours ; else, 
 how could the country become more and more 
 populous every year ? and that no one can deny. 
 Why, if machinery drove people away to foreign 
 lands, or starved them at home, there would 
 be a decrease instead of an increase of people, 
 would there not?” 
 
 “ As for that matter,” replied Jackson, “ the 
 population depends on the numbers that are 
 born ; and I think, for my part, that the poorer 
 folks are, the more children they have.” 
 
 “ Remember what Master Spires said to the 
 old crone, Jackson: though many be born, few 
 can be reared, unless there be food for the 
 stomach, and clothes to the back. So, if there 
 K 4? 
 
136 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 are more children reared now than there were 
 formerly, you must admit that their parents are 
 better off. Now, it is not so much because 
 more are born, but because fewer die, that the 
 country increases in population. 
 
 “ Fewer die !” repeated Jackson, laughing; 
 “ why, you know as well as I, that they are all 
 sure to die one day or other.” 
 
 “ Ay ! but it makes a rare difference, whether 
 that day comes soon or late, eh, Jackson ? I 
 tell you, people’s lives last out longer than they 
 used to do years ago. More children grow up 
 to man’s estate — grown-up men are more 
 healthy, and the old have fewer infirmities, and 
 are not so soon cut off. Fifty years back, one 
 man in forty died every year ; now only one in 
 fifty-eight dies ; that makes eighteen years dif- 
 ference; and you and I shall not be sorry to 
 have a fair chance of living eighteen years 
 longer than our forefathers ? Nay, if you go 
 back to the good old times, some hundred years 
 ago, there were two died then for one that dies 
 now. And why? because we are better fed, 
 better clothed, better nursed when young, and 
 better doctored when sick. Now, all this better- 
 ing comes from things being made cheaper, and 
 sold cheaper, through the help of machines; so, 
 instead of grumbling at them, you should thank 
 God for having given men the power of invent- 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 137 
 
 ing contrivances to shorten and cheapen labour; 
 and the sense to find out, that wind, and water, 
 and steam will work without tiring, both by 
 night and by day; and, what’s more, without 
 pay. Ay, I wish you had heard the story an 
 old pedlar told us one day ; he said, that wind, 
 and water, and steam worked like giants, and 
 without requiring either food, or clothing, or 
 lodging, or wages.” 
 
 “ And for what purpose?” interrupted Jack- 
 son, who was only waiting for an opportunity 
 to thrust in his old argument; “ just to turn us 
 poor folk out of work !” — “ No such thing ! ” 
 retorted Hopkins, impatiently ; “ for the pur- 
 pose of making the good things of this world 
 cheap and plenty; so that the poor may be able 
 to get at them as well as the rich.” — “ Talk till 
 doomsday,” replied Jackson, “ you will never 
 persuade me, that when the master manufacturer 
 hits upon some new device to improve his ma- 
 chinery, it’s with an eye to the good of any but 
 himself.” 
 
 u Mayhap not,” replied Hopkins ; “ but the 
 fact is, that they can’t do good to themselves 
 without doing good to others also. I tell you, 
 it’s in the nature of things; for,” added he, de- 
 voutly raising his eyes, “ there is One above 
 who looks to the good of the poor as well as of 
 the rich ; and if he puts it into the head of 
 
138 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 manufacturers bow to shorten labour and to 
 cheapen goods, lie does it for our advantage as 
 well as theirs. Yes,” added he, with a pious 
 emphasis, 44 God Almighty, who made, 6 the sun 
 to shine upon the just and the unjust,’ is good 
 to all ; and he created wind, and water, and 
 steam, to work for the benefit of all, the poor 
 as well as the rich.” 
 
 “ Well, if it had pleased God,” exclaimed 
 Jackson, 44 to have given us food and clothing 
 ready to our hand, as he has given us water to 
 drink and air to breathe, without stir or trouble, 
 we should have wanted neither work nor wages. 
 The world would have gone on famously then,” 
 added he, chuckling at his bright idea. Hop- 
 kins was not sorry to hear something new. 
 There was some ingenuity in Jackson’s observa- 
 tion ; and, though Hopkins thought it could 
 npt be true, he knew not what objection to raise 
 against it. He had recourse (as he commonly 
 had in such a dilemma) to scratching his head ; 
 and if the action did not call forth new ideas, 
 it at least gave him time to reflect on what he 
 should say. 44 So one would think,” at length 
 replied he ; 44 but you may be sure God knows 
 best what is good for us : and, since it has not 
 been his pleasure to give us food and clothing 
 gratis, as it were, you may be certain that it 
 would not have been for our good. Why and 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 
 
 139 
 
 wherefore is more than I can tell : perhaps,” 
 added he, with more alacrity, a bright thought 
 having crossed his mind, — 66 perhaps because 
 it would have made us all idle : and I am apt to 
 think that would have led us to frequenting the 
 public house. If beer and spirits had been as 
 plenty as water, what drunkards we should have 
 all been ! and then the broils that would have 
 followed ! No, Jackson, it is better as it is : 
 idleness is the parent of vice, you know.” 
 
 “ Why, now you are not consistent,” quoth 
 Jackson : “ if it is good for man to labour, why 
 get machines to do the work instead of us ? ” 
 tc Not for the sake of being idle,” replied 
 Hopkins ; “ but because the less labour we 
 bestow on one thing, the more we shall have to 
 give to another; and the less labour things cost, 
 the cheaper we shall buy them. Now, it is 
 quite as important for us to have things cheap, 
 as to have plenty of work ; for the wages of one 
 week will buy as much of cheap goods as the 
 wages of two weeks will of dear ones. And I 
 have told you, over and over again (but I can- 
 not hammer it into your head), that the way to 
 make things cheap is to produce them by ma- 
 chinery. When wind, and water, and fire, and 
 steam do the work, the goods are sold so reason- 
 ably, that almost every one can afford to buy. 
 You well know there ’s a much greater demand 
 
140 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 for cheap than for dear goods ; and, in order to 
 satisfy so great a demand, more and more must 
 be made, and more hands taken in at the fac- 
 tory ; till, in the end, many more come to be 
 employed to manage the machinery than there 
 was before to do the work without it; and, 
 when increase of employment goes along with 
 cheapness of production, you have every thing 
 you can wish; — more commodities, more work, 
 and more comfort and enjoyment within your 
 reach.” 
 
 46 And, pray, where did you pick up all this 
 learning ?” enquired Jackson. 44 It’s surely 
 never out of your own head .” — 44 No, for a 
 truth,” replied Hopkins : 44 my head has, how- 
 ever, been given to these matters for a long time 
 past ; and I never missed gathering what I 
 could from those who knew more than myself. 
 I have learnt a good deal from talking with my 
 landlord, who has a great knack at these 
 things, and he gave me a little book, called 
 4 The Working Man’s Companion;’ but, small 
 as it is, there ’s a world of knowledge in it. I 
 found it rather hard at first ; but he helped me 
 on with it by an explanation now and then ; and 
 it’s there I learnt all the good that comes of 
 machinery, and the folly and wickedness of 
 opposing it.” 
 
 44 Well, I should like to see the book,” said 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 141 
 
 Jackson. — “ Here it is,” returned Hopkins, 
 producing the volume on the results of ma- 
 chinery. “ Come, I will read you a bit,” con- 
 tinued he, turning over the leaves till he came 
 to a place which he thought suited his purpose. 
 66 Here,” said he, “ they are talking of a poor 
 ignorant people called the New Zealanders, 
 who had no machinery whatever ; scarcely so 
 much as a tool to work with. 
 
 “ Page 31. ‘ The chief distinction between 
 
 © 
 
 man in a rude, and man in a civilised state of 
 society is, that the one wastes his force, whether 
 natural or acquired; the other economises, that 
 is, saves it. The man in a rude state has very 
 rude instruments ; he, therefore, wastes his 
 force : the man in a civilised state, has very 
 perfect ones ; he, therefore, economises it. . . . 
 One of the chiefs of the people of New Zealand, 
 who, from their intercourse with Englishmen, 
 had learnt the value of tools, told Mr. Marsden, 
 a missionary, that his wooden spades were all 
 broken, and he had not an axe to make any 
 more; — his canoes were all broken, and he 
 had not a nail or a gimlet to mend them with : 
 — his potatoe grounds were uncultivated, arid 
 he had not a hoe to break them up with : — 
 and that, for w^ant of cultivation, he and his 
 people would have nothing to eat. This shows 
 you the state of the people without tools 
 
142 
 
 machinery; or, 
 
 “ ‘ The New Zealanders live exactly on the 
 opposite side of our globe ; and, therefore, very 
 seldom come near us : but, when they do come, 
 they are acute enough to perceive the advan- 
 tages which machinery has conferred upon us ; 
 and the great distance, in point of comfort be- 
 tween their state and ours, principally for the 
 reason that they have no machinery, while we 
 have a great deal. One of these poor men 
 burst into tears when he saw a rope-walk, be- 
 cause he perceived the immense superiority 
 which the process of spinning ropes gave us 
 over his countrymen. Another of these people, 
 and he was a shrewd and intelligent man, car- 
 ried back to his country a small hand-mill for 
 grinding corn, which he prized as the greatest 
 of all earthly possessions/ ” 
 
 “ Now,” continued Hopkins, laying down 
 his book, “ you must know that Old England 
 and New Zealand are much of a size ; and 
 while we have twenty-six millions of people, 
 New Zealand has only ten thousand ; that is, 
 two thousand six hundred men in England to 
 one in New Zealand. And, moreover, one of 
 us working people in England is better off by 
 far than the chiefs of New Zealand : — better 
 fed, better clothed, and more comforts in every 
 respect : and that, because they have not yet 
 found out how to make wind, and water, and 
 
CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 143 
 
 fire, and steam work for them; and so they 
 remain poor, half starved, half naked savages, 
 living in huts, such as you would scarcely put 
 a pig in. 
 
 And, do you know, Jackson, that if you 
 read the history of England, you will see that, 
 once upon a time, (it’s ages ago: before any 
 factories were set up,) England was no better 
 off than New Zealand ; so you see what we 
 have gained by our machinery.” 
 
 Jackson still looked discontented ; and Hop- 
 kins confessed that his was a hard case, a very 
 hard case ; “ but you cannot,” added he, “ say, 
 that the power-loom doeS an injury to the 
 people at large. If the weaving is cheaper 
 done by it, the goods are cheaper sold ; and all 
 those who buy are gainers by it ; you and I as 
 well as others. You are always harping after 
 the loss you make as a weaver, and never think 
 of the benefit you receive as a consumer.” 
 
 “ Much good will the cheap weaving do me 
 here,” cried Jackson, “ when I am far away.” 
 
 “ I don’t know for that,” replied Hopkins ; 
 66 go where you will, the English manufactures 
 will follow you ; especially in America ; and 
 there you w T ould not be sorry to get them as 
 low as you could.” 
 
 “ All I know,” grumbled Jackson, u is, that 
 the power-loom has been the ruin of me here.” 
 
machinery; or. 
 
 144 
 
 “ But w hen we talk of the good of the people 
 and the good of the country,” said Hopkins, 
 emphatically, “ we must remember that there 
 are others in the country besides yourself and 
 your fellow weavers at the hand-loom. You 
 are the only sufferers, whilst the whole of the 
 population are gainers. Now', I ask you, would 
 it be fair to set aside the power-loom merely to 
 benefit these few, to the loss of millions of 
 men ? It would be injuring ten thousand, at 
 least, for the good of one. Then, let me tell 
 you, if you had not stuck so obstinately to your 
 hand-loom, though losing ground by it every 
 year, you might have turned your hand to 
 something else, as many others have done. I 
 have been told there are no less than twenty 
 thousand journeymen silk weavers who w r ere 
 turned adrift, and are now working at the 
 cotton factory at Manchester. One must take 
 courage, man, and go along with the stream ; 
 for we cannot stop it, do w hat we will. Many 
 have tried hard at it by rioting and violence ; 
 but w hat was the end of it ? The rioters w'ere 
 always put down, sooner or later : some were 
 hanged, others transported, and the improve- 
 ments in machinery w ent on all the same.” 
 
 “ They had their revenge, however, on the 
 masters of the factories,” said Jackson ; “ for 
 

 CHEAP GOODS AND DEAR GOODS. 145 
 
 many a steam engine and a factory has been 
 destroyed in such riots.” 
 
 66 And where’s the good of that?” cried 
 Hopkins : “ why, it is burning your own house 
 to set your neighbour’s stables on fire ! for, 
 when the factory is destroyed, the workmen are 
 all turned adrift ; and what are they to do ? 
 no one will employ them ; so, for one master 
 ruined, there are perhaps five hundred of his 
 men in the same predicament. Then take the 
 people at large : the goods the factory made 
 would become more scarce and dearer than be- 
 fore ; and they would suffer from this till the 
 factory was rebuilt and placed again upon the 
 old footing. So, after quarrelling, and fighting, 
 and being punished, (some by the law, others 
 by their own folly,) you just return to the point 
 whence you set out. Can there be greater 
 madness, than, when you want to live cheap, to 
 destroy the very means of making things so ? 
 Why, it is much of a piece with burning the 
 stacks of corn to make bread cheaper. No, 
 believe me, if you could show a machine to be 
 an evil, you only increase the evil by attempt- 
 ing to destroy it. Master manufacturers will 
 make their goods at the cheapest rate : do what 
 you will, you can’t prevent it ; and I say, 
 thank God for it: for the cheaper they are 
 made, the cheaper they will sell and we are 
 L 
 
146 
 
 MACHINERY, ETC. 
 
 all benefited by that. But, since you choose to 
 seek your fortune elsewhere, why, I wish you 
 success with all my heart ; a prosperous voy- 
 age, and good luck at the end of it.” 
 
 Upon this he shook Jackson cordially by 
 the hand, and they took leave of each other ; 
 Hopkins fancying that his arguments had pro- 
 duced a great effect ; but Jackson was too 
 much blinded by prejudice, and the losses he 
 had sustained, for his mind to be open to con- 
 viction ; and, as he went away, he mumbled to 
 himself, — “ Ay, it ’s fine talking ; but where ’s 
 the good of all these helps, when they do not 
 help me to a single meal?” 
 
FOREIGN TRADE ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 One evening, when John returned from his 
 work, he found his daughter Patty showing off 
 a new silk gown to her mother. It was a pre- 
 sent which her lover had just given her, for the 
 approaching wedding day. Patty’s eyes, which 
 had seldom beheld any thing so beautiful, 
 shone with delight, as her mother admired it; 
 and her father gave her a hearty kiss, and said 
 she would be as smart a bride as had ever been 
 married in the village. “ Ay, and it is a 
 French silk, too, mother,” exclaimed Patty. — 
 “ Why, as for that,” replied her mother, “ I 
 don’t see the more merit in its being French ; 
 and I did not think, Patty, you were such a 
 silly girl as to have all that nofisense in your 
 head. No, indeed, it is bad enough for the 
 great lady folks to make such a fuss about 
 French finery, so that they can’t wear a bit of 
 honest English riband. I don’t like your gown 
 a bit the better for being French. No ; and I 
 l 2 
 
148 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 should have thought that your husband, that is 
 to be, might have given you an English silk 
 instead.” 
 
 Patty was not pleased that her mother should 
 find any fault with her new present, and her 
 future husband ; so she said, she thought there 
 was no harm in the gown being French, if 
 Barton could afford to give it to her ; “ and 
 for my own wedding too,” added she, with a 
 blush. — “ It is not that he can’t afford it, child; 
 but don’t you see the shame of an English- 
 man going to buy French silks, while his own 
 countrymen are working so hard for their 
 bread at the manufactories at home? Why, 
 they can get nobody to buy their English goods 
 now, and the poor workmen will "soon have to 
 go to the parish, or starve ; and all because the 
 fine ladies must be for ever sending over to fo- 
 reign parts for their lace and silks, and all that.” 
 
 Poor Patty was sadly put out ; but her mo- 
 ther did not perceive it ; and she went on 
 abusing the gown, which she had admired so 
 much, until she had learned that it was French. 
 “ No, no,” continued she, 66 1 shall be ashamed 
 if my girl is not married in an English gown ; 
 and tell Barton so,” she added, pushing aside 
 the smart present. 
 
 Patty tried to put in a word, but in vain. 
 u Why, there is our girl Nancy, who works 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 149 
 
 for a riband weaver at Nottingham, — your 
 father wrote to ask whether she could get in 
 one of her youngest sisters ; but she sent back 
 word that trade was very slack, and that they 
 were more likely to turn off hands than to take 
 any more in ; that while so many ribands came 
 from France, one could expect no better ; and 
 that it was well if we did not see her home 
 again for want of work. It is a crying sin,” 
 added the dame, indignantly ; “ and I should 
 be glad to know whether my Nancy can’t make 
 as good a riband as any of the French girls ? 
 I ’m sure the one she sent me was as pretty 
 as any one need wish to look on.” John 
 readily agreed that the English could make 
 these things just as well at home, as others 
 could in foreign countries. “ Nay, and even if 
 we did not,” said the wife, “ I think the great 
 people ought to give a turn to their own coun- 
 try folks, and encourage home manufactures, 
 instead of having all their finery made by 
 foreign hands, and sent to them from foreign 
 parts. Why, I have heard Lady Charlotte’s 
 maid, up at the castle, say, there ’s no end to 
 the loads of silks, and laces, and ribands, and 
 flowers, her Ladyship gets from beyond seas; 
 and, instead of being ashamed of it, she is 
 proud to wear them, and to show them off to 
 her acquaintances.” , 
 
 L 3 
 
150 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 Now Tom, who was a good sharp lad, and 
 given to be waggish, said, — “ I wish that the 
 French mounseers, instead of sending so much 
 frippery for the rich, would send some good 
 bread and cheese for us poor folks.” — “ And so 
 they would, if you would pay for it,” replied 
 his father ; “ for they are not such fools as to 
 send us their goods for nothing.” — “ Well, 
 but how are the goods paid for?” asked Tom ; 
 
 for uncle Bob, who has been over the sea to 
 foreign lands, tells me, that when he goes to an 
 alehouse in those outlandish parts, and has to 
 pay for a pot of beer, they won’t take our En- 
 glish money.” Uncle Bob, although he had 
 not yet joined in the talk, had been in the room 
 all the while ; for he had come up from Liver- 
 pool on purpose to be present at Patty’s wed- 
 ding. He now pulled off his spectacles, and 
 laying down the newspaper, which he had been 
 quietly reading in a corner, said, — “ That is 
 true ; but you should not say an alehouse, Tom, 
 for there is little enough of ale or beer to be 
 had there ; they give you nothing but wine at 
 their public-houses. And, sure enough, they 
 would take neither pence nor shillings, nor 
 pounds either (if I had had them). The French 
 will be paid in their own money, which they 
 call sols and francs; and the Spaniards will 
 have their own dollars.” — “ And how do you 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 151 
 
 manage to pay for what you buy there ?” asked 
 John. — “ Why, I get my English money 
 changed into the money of the country where I 
 happen to be. That is easy enough for the little 
 I want ; but it would never do to pay for all the 
 goods that come over here from foreign parts.” 
 This puzzled John not a little, when sud- 
 denly a wiser thought than usual came across 
 him ; — “ If they won’t take the money,” said 
 he, “ perhaps they will take the money’s worth, 
 and that is all one.” — " What do you mean 
 by the money’s worth, father ? ” — 66 Why, 
 something that ’s worth as much as the money. 
 They will take goods, for instance, instead of 
 money. Ay, for now I remember, when I went 
 over to Leeds to see your brother that works in 
 the cloth factory, there was such a power of 
 broad cloth piled up, of all sorts and fashions ; 
 there were some with mighty fine patterns ; and 
 I thought them rather queer for us Englishmen 
 to wear; but Dick said that all those pieces 
 were for foreign parts ; and that if they did not 
 please the fancy of foreigners, who liked showy 
 patterns, they would not take our goods. ‘ You 
 may guess,’ added Dick, 6 by the piles you see 
 of them yonder, how much they like these.’ 
 And he told me they had orders for many more, 
 so that they should be wanting more hands; 
 and that if I sent one of the boys next spring, 
 l 4 
 
 
152 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR. 
 
 he thought they could find work for him. 
 Now, don’t you see, Tom, this is the way we 
 pay for French goods. We pay them in kind, 
 as it were ; goods for goods ; and the goods 
 being worth as much as the money we should 
 have paid for them, it is all one, as if we had 
 paid in money.” — “ Why, it is much like my 
 changing my top again Harry Fairburn’s mar- 
 bles,” said Tom. “ And do they send us as 
 much goods as we send them ? ” 
 
 “ Why, as for that,” replied his father, 
 scratching his head, while he was thinking of 
 an answer, “ as broadcloth is much more bulky 
 than laces or silks, we must send over larger 
 cargoes than we receive in return. But, mind 
 you, not more costly. No, no, we are sharper 
 than that comes to. We should never be such 
 fools as to send to foreigners what was worth 
 more than they sent us. We give money’s 
 worth for money’s worth.” 
 
 “ Then, if they work for us as much as we 
 work for them,” said Tom, “ methinks it ’s tit 
 for tat ; and there is no one turned out of work, 
 neither here nor there.” 
 
 “ Why, have not you just heard that your 
 sister Nancy is like to be turned off at Notting- 
 ham, because they will wear so many French 
 ribands?” 
 
 “ Ay, but,” said Tom archly, who could not 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 153 
 
 help thinking of his own prospect, “ have not 
 you said that I am likely to be taken in at 
 Leeds, because foreigners wear our English 
 cloths. So you see, father, it is as broad as it 
 is long.” 
 
 The father was puzzled, and he could think 
 of nothing to reply to Tom, who had certainly 
 the best of the argument. While he remained 
 half grumbling at being set down by so young 
 a lad, uncle Bob exclaimed, — “ The boy is 
 right enough. Where is the sense of crying 
 down French silks ? why, it is just crying down 
 our own broad cloth.” — Patty’s face brightened 
 up, and she thought that Barton was right after 
 all, and that she should wear her gay gown at 
 the wedding. Uncle Bob continued, — “ If we 
 won’t wear any more foreign merchandise, why, 
 foreigners won’t wear any more of ours ; for we 
 sha’n’t send ours over for nothing, that is quite 
 certain.” — “So much the better,” muttered 
 John : “let us each wear our own manufactures.” 
 
 “ Better for Nancy, but worse for Dick and 
 Tom too,” cried uncle Bob ; “ for, if there are 
 no French silks and ribands to pay for, there 
 will be no cloth made to pay them with, for 
 look ye, cloth is the money we pay with. I 
 say, and I ’ll maintain it too, that every piece of 
 silk, and not silk only, but lace, or cambric, or 
 wine, or what not, that comes from France, or 
 
154 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 Spain, or Germany, or even from as far off as 
 the Indies, East or West (for Bob was fond of 
 talking of the many countries he had seen) ; I 
 say, every piece of foreign goods that comes 
 over to England, employs just as many of our 
 workmen as if they made it themselves. What 
 care our workmen whether they are making 
 ribands and silks for their own countryfolk, or 
 broad cloth for foreigners ? What they want is 
 to be employed, and that is all. — Why, it is 
 as clear as broad day ; though it never struck 
 me before, till the lad hit on it.” 
 
 John was not much pleased to find his bro- 
 ther take part with Tom ; however, he could 
 not but think they seemed to be in the right, 
 and that foreign trade did neither good nor 
 harm. But they had not got at the whole truth 
 yet, as the second part of the story will show. 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 John had pondered all these things a good 
 deal in his mind, at a loss what to think or what 
 to believe, when one day his landlord looked in 
 upon him to talk over farming matters. Before 
 the squire went away, John took courage to 
 speak to him about what was uppermost in his 
 mind, and said, — “ May I be so bold as to ask 
 your honour a question ? ” The landlord nod- 
 ded good-naturedly. u Why, then, my brother 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 155 
 
 Bob and my son Tom, but a bit of a chap as he 
 is, have been arguing with me that we neither 
 gain nor lose by trading with foreign parts, and 
 wearing foreign manufactures.” Then observ- 
 ing the landlord smile, 66 You may think, per- 
 haps,” added he, twirling his hat in his hands, 
 “that I ought to be minding my own concerns, 
 and not troubling my head about what is above 
 my capacity.” 
 
 “ I am very far from thinking,” said the 
 landlord, “ that it is not your business to re- 
 flect and consider what is or what is not good 
 for your country. It is not only the right but 
 the duty of every free-born Englishman to do 
 so to the best of his abilities. This, thank God, 
 is not a land in which we are afraid of the peo- 
 ple learning to distinguish between right and 
 wrong, even in matters which concern the wel- 
 fare of the country.” 
 
 John was pleased : he held up his head, and 
 seemed to think all the better of himself for 
 being counted among those who had a right to 
 think about the welfare of the country. “ I 
 am sure,” thought he, “ if I had informed my- 
 self to the best of my ability before I went to 
 the fairy, I should never have been such a fool 
 as to have made her turn every thing upside 
 down, as I did twice running.” Then, address- 
 ing the landlord, he said, — “ Indeed, your 
 
156 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 honour’s right; for, in my mind, there is more 
 mischief done for want of knowing better than 
 there is from sheer wickedness.” 
 
 “ I am quite of your opinion,” replied the 
 landlord ; “ but as for Bob and young Tom, 
 there, I think they are somewhat mistaken in 
 supposing that the country neither loses nor 
 gains by foreign trade.” 
 
 “ Ay, I told you so,” said John, exultingly, 
 addressing himself to his brother and the boy. 
 
 “ Then I hope your honour will set us right,” 
 replied Bob. — “ Why,” said the landlord, “ I 
 maintain that, when two countries trade freely 
 with each other, they are both gainers.” — “ Hear 
 what his honour says now,” cried Bob : “ no 
 loss on either side, but both gainers : — all prizes, 
 and no blanks ! ” cried he, rubbing his hands. 
 
 “ This requires some explanation,” said the 
 landlord, “ which I will try to give you. Fo- 
 reigners send over to us such goods as they can 
 make or produce cheaper and better than w T e 
 can ; therefore, w hen we buy those goods, w r e get 
 them cheaper or better than we could have made 
 them ourselves.” 
 
 “ There ’s no denying that,” cried Bob ; “ for 
 if they w r ere not either cheaper or better than 
 we can make, we should not buy them.” Tom 
 chuckled in a corner, though he did not dare 
 open his lips. 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 157 
 
 “ Now, for instance,” continued the landlord, 
 observing the piece of silk for Patty’s wedding- 
 gown, which was laid upon the table ; “ they 
 have the art of making silks cheaper in France 
 than we have in England. You may buy a 
 silk in France for the value of two shillings a 
 yard, which would cost you three in England. 
 Well, then, every yard of French silk sold in 
 England, (supposing there were no duty) would 
 be a shilling saved to those who buy it.” 
 
 66 And a shilling saved is a shilling gained,” 
 said Bob. “ Then, she who buys a French in- 
 stead of an English silk gown (supposing it took 
 ten yards) would have ten shillings left in her 
 pocket, would she not ? ” 
 
 “ Certainly; and so, if many French gowns 
 were bought, there would be many a ten shil- 
 lings saved. This money,” continued the land- 
 lord, “ might be laid by till wanted ; or it might 
 be spent immediately, in cotton gowns, perhaps, 
 for the children, or shoes and stockings, or pots 
 and pans: in short, whatever article may chance 
 to be wanted ; but whatever it be, it will have 
 employed people to produce it ; and there is so 
 much the more work for the labouring classes. 
 While, on the other hand, if an English silk 
 gown had been bought, the ten shillings would 
 have been spent, and nothing more could have 
 been purchased.” — “ Then it is very clear,” 
 
158 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 said Bob, “ that if people wear the dear English 
 silk gowns instead of the cheaper French ones, 
 there is less work for our work people.” 
 
 “ You are quite right,” answered the land- 
 lord ; “ and it is just the same with every other 
 article that is purchased from abroad as it is with 
 silk. So long as we get goods cheaper, we make a 
 saving, and that saving sets more hands to work.” 
 “ Ay,” said John, “ that’s all very well for 
 us ; but your honour told us that the French 
 were gainers by the trade as well as ourselves : 
 now it seems to me, that what we gain must be 
 their loss.” 
 
 66 Why so ?” cried the landlord. “ Take an 
 example or two : — We have more iron in the 
 bowels of the earth, here, than they have in 
 France ; we are therefore more used to work it, 
 and do it better than they do. Then we know 
 how to construct steam engines better ; so that 
 the French can purchase wrought iron and 
 steam engines cheaper and better of us than 
 they can make them at home. If, then, we send 
 them iron and steam engines in exchange for 
 their silks, they are gainers as well as ourselves.” 
 “ But I thought,” said John, “ that we sent 
 the French people broad cloths in exchange for 
 their silk and laces.” 
 
 “ No ; the broad cloths, I believe,” said the 
 landlord, 66 are exported to Spain, Portugal, 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 159 
 
 and other countries. But the name of the 
 country is of no consequence, any more than the 
 name of the goods exchanged ; the principle is 
 the same. Buy the goods wherever they are to 
 be had cheapest and best.” 
 
 “ To be sure,” cried Dame Hopkins ; “ that 
 is just what we do ourselves, husband : often is 
 the time that I trudge over to the market town 
 to buy things a trifle cheaper than I can get 
 them in the village.” — “ Yes, and when you 
 get there,” cried Bob, “you go to the best shop, 
 without caring whether its master be friend or 
 foe.” 
 
 “ But, ” said John, “ we don’t go over to 
 France to choose the goods as we do at market. 
 It is they send them over to us ; and they may 
 chance to send us such goods as we can make 
 as well and as cheap at home : in a word, goods 
 that we don’t want from them.” 
 
 “ I can assure you,” replied the landlord, 
 “ that merchants often do go to foreign coun- 
 tries for the very purpose of choosing such goods 
 as will be most wanted in England. And when 
 they don’t go, they write, which answers much 
 the same purpose.” — “But how can they tell 
 what is wanted?” cried Bob; “for, one w’ants 
 one thing, another wants another ; but, to say 
 w r hat most people w^ant, must be a hard matter 
 to make out.” — “ Far from it,” said the land- 
 
160 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 lord ; there is as sure a means of knowing it as 
 if the different sorts of goods had each a voice, 
 and one cried out, 4 I am the most wanted ; 9 
 another, 4 I am next ; 9 and another, 4 I not at 
 all/ ” 
 
 This made them all stare ; and they listened 
 with great attention to learn what this voice 
 could be. — 46 It is neither more nor less than 
 the price of the goods,” said the landlord. 44 The 
 more goods are wanted, the better price they 
 will fetch ; so it is the price which I call their 
 voice ; and, moreover, a voice that always speaks 
 die truth.” This set them all laughing. — 
 44 Now,” continued the landlord, as soon as they 
 had had their laugh out, 44 we cannot expect 
 that the French or any other foreigners should 
 send over such goods as we want, just for the 
 pleasure of obliging us : their view is to make 
 money.” — 44 As every dealer’s is and ought to 
 be,” interrupted Bob, 44 when it is done above 
 board — that is, fairly and honestly ; so we need 
 bear them no grudge for that.” 
 
 44 Very true,” continued the landlord ; 44 they 
 seek their own interest, not ours ; and send 
 over the goods that will fetch the best price, 
 because those will give them the greatest 
 profit.” 
 
 44 If they don’t seek our interest, they find it 
 nevertheless,” said Bob ; 44 for the goods which 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 161 
 
 will fetch the best price, are just those which 
 we most want. So, what suits them to sell, 
 suits us to buy : well, to be sure that is cle- 
 verly contrived.” 
 
 “ No wonder that it is clever,” replied the 
 landlord ; “ for it is in the nature of things ; 
 which means, that it is so ordained by the 
 Author of Nature, an all-wise and beneficent 
 Providence. 
 
 “ Well, you see, my good friends,” con- 
 tinued the landlord, “ that foreign trade — that 
 is, trading with foreign countries — is advan- 
 tageous to every country engaged in it ; for, 
 what is true of one, is true of all : and when 
 we buy a piece of foreign goods, be it what it 
 may, or come whence it will, we encourage 
 the British manufacture thereby, just as much 
 as if we bought the piece of goods at Leeds or 
 Manchester.” 
 
 “ Ay, and a little more, too,” cried Bob, 
 “ according to your honour’s reckoning ; for 
 you have forgot to take into the account the 
 money saved by buying the cheaper goods, 
 which saving is laid out in something else, and 
 so sets more hands to work.” 
 
 cc That is true,” cried the landlord ; “ I was 
 falling into your argument, my honest tar, that 
 there was neither loss nor gain in foreign trade; 
 but I am glad to find you steer so clear of 
 M 
 
162 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 error that you can become my pilot. We are 
 agreed, then, that there is gain on both sides ; 
 and I hope, John, that you begin to think 
 so too.” 
 
 “ Why,” said John, u to be sure your 
 honour must know best ; and, if all you say be 
 true (as no doubt it is), why I can't but say it 
 must be so.” 
 
 “ Well,” continued the landlord, “ but there 
 is another advantage in foreign trade, which I 
 have not yet mentioned. There are some 
 things, such as good wine, that it would be im- 
 possible for us to make, because our climate 
 is not hot enough to cultivate vineyards ; so, if 
 we did not get it from other countries, we 
 should be obliged to go without.” 
 
 “ Oh ! for the matter of that,” cried John, 
 66 foreign wines will never come within our 
 reach ; we poor folk should not be the better 
 for them, even if they paid no duty at all.” 
 
 “ But you are sometimes the better for fo- 
 reign spirits, John, I take it,” said the land- 
 lord. “ And sometimes the worse, too,” said 
 his wife. “ However, I have no right to com- 
 plain ; for that is only once in a way.” 
 
 “ Well, to say nothing of the wine and the 
 spirits,” continued the landlord, addressing 
 himself to the wife, “you, good dame, would 
 not have a spoonful of sugar to sweeten your 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 163 
 
 tea, without foreign trade. Nor could you 
 give me a pinch of snuff, ” added he, holding 
 out his hand to John, who first tapped his box, 
 and then opening it, respectfully offered it to 
 his landlord. — “And as for the English silks,” 
 said Bob, “ why, we should have had none to 
 dispute about without foreign trade ; for, though 
 we can spin and weave silk, we cant breed silk- 
 worms in our climate.” — “ Nor could you 
 smoke your pipe,” said the landlord ; “ for 
 tobacco is not raised in England any more than 
 silk.” — “ But I have heard some talk,” said 
 John, “ of passing a law to let them grow to- 
 bacco in Ireland.” 
 
 “ If the law of the land should allow them, 
 I doubt whether the law of nature would,” re- 
 plied the landlord ; “ for the warm climate of 
 Virginia, in America, whence it comes, is much 
 more favourable to its growth ; and, if they at- 
 tempt to rais.e it in Ireland, I doubt but that 
 it will cost them dearer, and not be so good.” 
 — “ Why, then,” said John, “ it would be 
 wiser to make a law to prevent instead of to 
 allow them to grow it.” 
 
 “ The best way would be to pass no law, 
 either for or against,” replied the landlord. 
 “ Let men have their own way, and plant and 
 sow, buy and sell, just where and how they 
 like ; they will soon find out what will answer 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE; OR, 
 
 best. If they can raise tobacco in Ireland as 
 cheap and as good as in America, they will do 
 it ; and if they cannot, they will let it alone.” 
 
 “ Ay,” cried Bob, “ a man has a sharper 
 look out for his own interest than any one else 
 can have for him.” 
 
 Ci So you see, my friends,” continued the 
 landlord, “ foreign trade has two advantages ; 
 for it not only procures things better and 
 cheaper, but things which our climate renders 
 it impossible for us to produce at home ; such 
 as wine, sugar, tobacco, plums, currants, rice, 
 spices, cotton, silks, and other things without 
 number.” 
 
 “ Oh, then,” cried the good woman, 66 1 could 
 not even treat my children with a plum-pud- 
 ding at Christmas without foreign trade; for 
 there ’s no making it without plums and spices.” 
 
 Patty smiled, and cast a look upon her wed- 
 ding gown, which her mother observing, said, 
 — 66 Well, child, take it up and make it up. I 
 should be loth to say or think ill of it, after all 
 the squire has told us.” 
 
 THIRD PART. 
 
 “ Well, after all,” said John, “ it ’s lucky for 
 us they won’t take our English money for their 
 goods in foreign countries ; for, if we sent them 
 money instead of goods, it might be quite an- 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 165 
 
 other story.” — “ And why not send them mo- 
 ney ?” enquired the landlord. — “ Why, your 
 honour ’s joking, now,” said John with a smile 
 and a shrug : “ you know it would not encou- 
 rage our manufactures ; for we do not manufac- 
 ture money : we get it from South America, as 
 I have heard.” — “ And have you heard,” 
 asked the landlord, “ how we pay for it?” — 
 “ Why, no, I can’t say I have,” said John, 
 ruminating. “ Pay for money ! why it ’s like 
 giving them the money back again ; it can’t 
 be so : and yet it must be paid somehow.” — 
 “ It’s sure enough,” cried Bob, “the Americans 
 will not send it us for nothing : they would no 
 more do that than the French would send us 
 their silks for nothing ; and yet, how to pay 
 for money I can’t well guess. We cannot give 
 gold for gold ; that would be like sending coals 
 to Newcastle.” 
 
 “ If we paid for the money in cash,” said 
 John, “it would be just sending them back 
 what they had sent us. And there would be 
 all the expense of sending it across the ocean 
 and back again, just for nothing at all. 
 
 “ Besides, I doubt their taking it back,” said 
 Bob; for they want any thing there rather 
 than money.” — “ True,” said the landlord ; 
 “ they are all so busy digging for gold and 
 silver there, that they have no time to manufac- 
 m 3 
 
166 
 
 FOREIGN TRADE; OR, 
 
 ture goods ; so it is manufactured goods which 
 they want.” 
 
 66 Then we pay for money with manufactured 
 goods,” said John : “ that seems very odd to us, 
 who are so used to do just the contrary, and 
 pay for goods with money.” — “ And what do 
 the Americans do?” said the landlord. — “ They 
 give us the money in return for our goods,” 
 replied John. 
 
 “ Why, father,” cried Tom, “methinks that’s 
 no more nor less than buying our goods.” 
 
 “ Sure enough,” cried Bob, “ they buy our 
 goods with gold, and we buy their gold with 
 goods.” 
 
 “ Now,” said the landlord, “ supposing that 
 you sent money to France to pay for their silks 
 and laces, you would want more gold from 
 America, and you must manufacture more 
 goods to pay for that gold.” 
 
 “ Ah, so it is,” cried John, as the truth sud- 
 denly came across his mind ; “ and it ’s all one 
 whether we send the goods to America to pay 
 for the gold, or to France to pay for the silks.” 
 “ In both cases,” continued the landlord, 
 “the labouring manufacturer will have employ- 
 ment. Thus, you see, my friends, work in one 
 country is sure to produce work in another 
 country, provided a free trade — that is, liberty 
 to exchange goods — be allowed. But, though 
 this advantage will be general, I do not mean 
 
THE WEDDING GOWN. 
 
 167 
 
 to say that it will be without exception : some 
 manufactures may occasionally suffer. If we 
 import French silks and French china, we 
 shall make less silk and less china at home; but 
 then other manufactures will flourish in pro- 
 portion as these fail : so that, if workmen are 
 turned off in the one, they may find employ- 
 ment in the other.” 
 
 “ Ay, but,” observed John, “ it ’s no such 
 easy matter to turn one’s hand from one sort of 
 work to another.” 
 
 " That ’s very true,” replied the landlord ; 
 “ and many are the poor who suffer from being 
 obliged to make such a change. This world is 
 not perfect, as we all well know ; but it is im- 
 proving ; and a free foreign trade would do 
 much towards increasing the industry, wealth, 
 and comforts of the poor ; for, I trust you are 
 now satisfied, that the country which deals with 
 foreign nations will employ considerably more 
 labourers than those which produce and manu- 
 facture only for themselves.” 
 
 The landlord now took his leave ; and John 
 confessed that he had explained it all so clearly, 
 that he had been quite brought over to his way 
 of thinking. Patty had understood so far as 
 related to her wedding gown, which she now 
 took up, and skipped away with in great glee 
 to have it made up. 
 
THE CORN TRADE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 John Hopkins was walking with Farmer 
 Stubbs over his farm one clay, examining the 
 crops. They passed through a field of wheat 
 in which the scarlet poppies were nearly as 
 plentiful as the ears of corn. “ Methinks, 
 Master Stubbs,” said John, “ this field will 
 scarcely pay you the labour it has cost you ; 
 you will get but a poor pennyworth out of it ; 
 and I ’ll venture to say, you must have put a 
 rood pennyworth into it, to make it yield even 
 the little it does, seeing it ’s such a bad soil,” 
 
 “ I ’m not such a fool as that comes to, 
 neither,” returned the farmer. 66 Though I 
 may not have served my time at book-keeping, 
 I know how to reckon up of the goings out and 
 the comings in ; ay, and to give a shrewd guess 
 what they are like to be before I sow my crop ; 
 and if I did not see a fair chance of the field 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 169 
 
 paying its expen ces, ay, and a profit to boot, 
 why, I should not have sown it. It is true, 
 corn does not fetch so good a price as it once 
 did, but it is good enough yet to make even 
 this pitiful bit of soil give me a profit. ,, 
 
 “ Ah ! but,” says John, “ you have some 
 beautiful corn fields on the sunny side of the 
 hill, with the stream at the bottom. That ’s a 
 fine soil and a fine aspect, and those are crops 
 it does one’s heart good to look at, and will 
 pay you well, and make up for the poverty of 
 this field, and so one with another you make 
 a fair profit ; but if you were to sow this field 
 alone, I question whether you would get any 
 thing by it.” 
 
 “ There you are mistaken,” replied Stubbs : 
 “ for if I did not make any thing by it in corn, 
 I should lay it down in grass ; or if it was not 
 good enough for that, I should plant it.” 
 
 “ But how can you tell,” said Hopkins, 
 “ whether you make any thing by this very 
 field or not ? for you send your corn to market 
 in the lump, without reckoning which field it 
 comes from.” 
 
 66 It ’s a farmer’s business,” replied Stubbs, 
 if he means to thrive iji the world, to find out 
 what answers, and what don’t. I know how 
 many bushels of corn this same field gives me, 
 and how much I sell them for : then, on the 
 
170 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 other side, I reckon the labour, and the manure, 
 and the seed corn, in a word, all that the crop 
 costs me ; and if I did not find that I got a 
 profit — mind ye, I do not mean such a profit 
 as the crops t’other side of the hill give me, 
 but a decent profit — for such a soil, this field 
 would be a corn field no more.” 
 
 “ Well,” said John, with a sigh, “ it ’s hard 
 that we poor folk are forced to pay so much 
 for our bread, that you farmers may make a 
 profit on such a miserable soil as this.” 
 
 “ Why, it ’s not I that fix the market price,” 
 retorted Stubbs. “ I must sell my corn for 
 what it will fetch, cheap or dear, or I should 
 not be able to carry on the outgoings of the 
 farm : for I ’ve no store of money on hand as 
 our landlord has, who may keep his crops back 
 when the price is low, until the market rises. 
 Then I should be glad to know, how you would 
 be the better for this field not being sown ? for 
 supposing this field, and all other fields in the 
 country that had no better soil, were laid down 
 in grass, why there would be much less corn in 
 the markets (for there ’s a good number of such 
 fields in the land, I can tell you); and you 
 know well enough what follows a scarcity of 
 corn at market, Hopkins ?” 
 
 “ Why, a rise of price,” answered Hopkins. 
 56 So, then, you see, man, you are all in 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 171 
 
 the wrong,” exclaimed Stubbs, exultingly, “ to 
 think that my growing corn on poor land does 
 you any harm. Why, it ’s all for your good, 
 John ; for you see that if I and others did not 
 do so, corn would rise, and bread would be 
 dearer.” 
 
 “ Not quite so sure of that, neither, Master 
 Stubbs,” replied John demurely. “ You may 
 think it bold in me, who am but a poor man, 
 and no farmer, to venture to argue with you, 
 who know so much about it. But you must 
 know that 1 have had a deal of talk of late with 
 the squire (who is your landlord as well as 
 mine) about foreign trade ; and if I could but 
 tell you all he said, Master Stubbs, you would 
 be quite in a wonderment to hear the good 
 foreign trade does the country. And brother 
 Bob, who has been so much in foreign parts, 
 was all of one mind with his honour. Nay, it 
 was so clear that even my boy Tom under- 
 stood it; and, though I tried all I could to 
 argue against them, they brought me round at 
 last.” 
 
 “ Clear as it may be, I think it has turned 
 your head, Hopkins,” replied Stubbs. “ I 
 should be glad to know what foreign trade can 
 have to do with my raising corn on poor land.” 
 — “ Why, don’t you see,” replied John, “ if 
 we could get our corn from foreign parts, 
 
172 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 where it is cheaper than it is here, we should be 
 better off? ” 
 
 “ Oh, that ’s what you are after,” cried 
 Stubbs, with a shrug, and a sneer : 66 and so 
 you would ruin the farmers of your own coun- 
 try, would you, to make the fortunes of your 
 outlandish French jackanapes. Well, I thought 
 better of you than that comes to.” — “ Don’t 
 you fly off in such a huff, Master Stubbs,” said 
 John. “ God knows, I have no wish to ruin 
 you or any other farmer ; nor was I for caring 
 about making the fortune of foreigners ; what I 
 was thinking of, was, how to get bread cheapest 
 for my own children ; and every poor man has 
 a right to think about that : and, what ’s more, 
 it is his duty too.” — 66 Well ; but you will not 
 persuade me that the squire told you that it 
 was good for the country to get corn from fo- 
 reign parts, unless it be in times of scarcity, 
 when the price is very high ; and then, you 
 know, the law allows it ; for it don’t hurt the 
 farmer. But, as for making a free corn trade 
 at all times, as some fools talk of, why, our 
 landlord knows his interest too well to dream 
 of such a thing.” 
 
 “ And why should not the poor look to their 
 own interest as well as the rich?” said Hop- 
 kins ; “ and if corn coming from foreign parts 
 would make bread cheaper, why should they 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 173 
 
 not say that the law of the land ought to allow 
 it, and have an eye to their good as well as 
 that of the landholder?” — “ You may think 
 and you may say what you please,” cried 
 Stubbs ; “ but let me tell you, that as long as 
 the landholders make the laws, they will not be 
 such fools as to make a law to undo themselves. 
 Ask a man to cut his own throat ? why it ’s 
 sheer nonsense.” — “ Well I’ve a better opinion 
 of the landholders than you,” replied Hopkins. 
 “ Take our landlord, for example. It ’s true, 
 he did not say any thing about corn.” — “ No, 
 I was sure enough of that,” interrupted Stubbs. 
 — “ But he told us,” continued John, “ that 
 whenever we could get any thing from abroad 
 cheaper than we could make it at home, it was 
 for the good of the country that we should get 
 it from abroad. I can’t go over all his argu- 
 ments, but they were as clear as broad day.” — 
 “ It may be so, for aught I know,” said Stubbs, 
 C6 with manufactured goods, their French silks 
 and frippery that’s made with hands; but we 
 don’t make corn, we grow it.” — “ Well, but 
 though the squire did not just speak of corn, 
 he made no difference between things that are 
 growm and things that are made ; for he talked 
 of tobacco, and currants, and raisins, and loads 
 of other things, the growth of the soil : and I 
 am sure he would have said as much of corn, 
 
174 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 if it had but come into my head to have asked 
 him. ,, — “ Nay, nay,” retorted Stubbs, shaking 
 his head with an incredulous look, “ he has too 
 good a head for that.” — “ 1 know he has a 
 good head,” replied Hopkins ; “ for he not 
 only understands these matters himself, but he 
 knows how to make us poor unlettered folks 
 understand them too. But then, Master Stubbs, 
 I ’ll warrant his heart is as sound as his head : 
 and if he thought it was for the welfare of the 
 country that the corn trade should be free, and 
 that we poor folks would fare better for it, why 
 he would give it up manfully ; and never mind 
 its hurting himself a bit.” 
 
 “ He ’s free to do as he likes,” said Stubbs ; 
 “ but let me tell him, he must not expect me 
 to pay him such a rent as I do now, if every 
 foreign vessel that chose to bring their trash of 
 corn into our ports were free of our markets. 
 No, no, as soon as my lease was out (and that’s 
 next Michaelmas come two years), I should 
 say, ‘You may take the farm upon your own 
 hands, or let it me at a lower rent, for I have 
 been losing instead of gaining a livelihood ever 
 since the corn trade has been free.’ ” — “ Well, 
 then, you need not be in such a taking, Master 
 Stubbs ; for, let the worst come to the worst, 
 you can but be a loser for a couple of years. 
 No farmer could be a loser beyond the term of 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 175 
 
 his lease ; for then he would strike a new bar- 
 gain. Besides, I am given to think, that, if the 
 trade were free, there would be such an outcry 
 among the farmers, that the landlords would 
 make them some amends even during the run 
 of the lease.” — 66 No, no, they will not be over 
 ready to come down before they must,” cried 
 Stubbs. “ They would know their loss would 
 be for ever and aye ; for they would never get 
 such rents for their farms again — no, never: 
 at least, as long as the trade was free.” — “ And 
 if once it was,” cried John, “it’s my mind, it 
 would be for ever and aye : for when the poor 
 know what it is to have bread cheap and plenty, 
 they won’t put up with dearness and scarcity.” — 
 66 And pray at what price do you think you 
 would have corn, if the trade were free ? ” cried 
 Stubbs ; “ for half what you pay now, perhaps ; 
 but you ’re quite mistaken. Corn costs land 
 and labour, wherever it be grown ; and I 
 should be glad to know where there ’s farmers 
 who understand the raising it better than we do 
 here : for I ’ve always heard there ’s no farming 
 to be compared to that of Old England;” — 
 “ That may be true,” replied John, 66 but yet 
 I ’ve always heard that foreign corn was cheaper 
 than that we grow at home.” — 66 Then,” said 
 Stubbs, “ it must be worse than ours, for the 
 best farmers ought to raise the best crops ; you 
 
176 
 
 THE CORN TRADE; OR, 
 
 can’t deny that?” — “ Why, it may, and it may 
 not be,” cried John, thoughtfully. “ If fo- 
 reigners should have a better soil, or greater 
 plenty of land, so that their rent don’t run so 
 high, or a finer climate, they may be able to 
 grow corn as good as ours, and yet cheaper, 
 though they do not understand farming so well 
 as we do.” — “ Well, but granting that in some 
 parts corn may be a trifle cheaper than in Eng- 
 land, you forget that there’s the freight to pay; 
 and the further it comes from, the more that 
 costs. Then there ’s sea risks; the ship may 
 be wrecked, and the cargo lost; and even when 
 it arrives in port, oftentimes the sea-water gets 
 in, and it rots ; and though it may not be good 
 enough to bring to market, it must be paid for 
 in the main ; for, d’ ye see, they won’t bring 
 over corn for nothing, and what they lose in 
 one cargo must be made up in the price of an- 
 other : so, one way or another, I ’ll venture to 
 say, the trade being open would scarcely make 
 any difference in the price.” — “ Well, all I 
 can say,” replied Hopkins, “ is, that if it makes 
 but little difference to me who buy corn, it will 
 make but little difference to you who sell it ; so 
 you need not set up such an outcry against it. 
 But I will tell you honestly, that in my mind it 
 would make a great difference ; for I know that 
 in America corn is very cheap, and for this 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 177 
 
 plafn reason : America is a very large place, 
 with but few people in it: so they have as 
 much land as they choose, and they sow corn 
 on the choice soils. Indeed, they say the soil 
 is so good, that it is well nigh all choice : and 
 wants no manure, and only just scratching over 
 with the plough. So they may well afford to 
 sell their com cheap, when it costs them so lit- 
 tle to grow it ; besides, they are ready enough 
 to sell it, being so few to eat it at home.” 
 
 6C Now, that ’s what comes of talking of what 
 you don’t understand,” exclaimed Stubbs : — 
 u few people in America, say you ? why, I have 
 been told there ’s ten times as many there as 
 there is in Old England ; and you know there ’s 
 no lack of folks here.” John was at first puzzled 
 at this assertion ; but after scratching his head, 
 and turning the matter in his mind, he said, — 
 “ Mayhap, Master Stubbs, America may be a 
 hundred times bigger than England, and then, 
 you know, it would be much thinner of people, 
 though they were ten times our number'. I 
 know you have got a book of maps ; so let us 
 give a look into it when we come to the house.” 
 They did so, and were both astonished to find 
 that America was not only one hundred, but 
 many hundred times larger than England. 
 “ But, look ye, what a way off it is,” cried 
 N 
 
178 
 
 the corn trade ; or, 
 
 Stubbs ; “ and what a heavy charge there must 
 be to bring corn from such a distance.” It ’s 
 all across the sea,” said Hopkins, pointing to 
 the Atlantic Ocean ; “ and freight aboard ship 
 costs but little. Then, when it gets to England, 
 you see, it comes up one of these great rivers, 
 to London, or to Bristol, or to Liverpool. 
 Besides,” continued John, “without going so 
 far as America, I ’ve heard say, that there ’s 
 many countries nearer at hand, where corn is 
 much more plentiful, and cheaper than with us. 
 In Poland, where the poor folks have been fight- 
 incr so hard lately, they have abundance of corn, 
 and are ready to send it over to us, whenever 
 
 the law allows it. ,, . 
 
 a Ay? provided we pay them a good price tor 
 
 it,” cried Stubbs. 
 
 “But what’s a good price to them, who 
 grow it cheap, is a low price to us, who grow 
 it dear,” replied Hopkins. “ Think how it 
 would do one’s heart good to get corn as low 
 as forty shillings a quarter, and the quartern 
 loaf at five pence? Why, it would be a great 
 saving to you, Master Stubbs, with your large 
 family, who eat as much as ever they like. 
 
 “ Save a penny, and lose a pound,” replied 
 Stubbs, sulkily. — “ Well, but when you get a 
 new lease,” said John, “ you will save the penny 
 without losing the pound. 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 179 
 
 ■ “That ’s true enough,’* replied Stubbs, 
 brightening up. “ But still,” added he, after a 
 little thought, “look ye, Hopkins,- if bread 
 were so cheap, it would never pay me to raise 
 corn on poor soils, as I do now.” 
 
 To be sure,” answered Hopkins ; “the field 
 we passed through must be laid down in -rass • 
 ut you would get a fair profit, still, on your 
 corn fields by the river-side.” 
 
 “ Fine talking, indeed,” cried Stubbs, an- 
 grily: “as if it was a mere nothing to lav 
 down land m grass, when you have been layin- 
 loads of dung on it for years past, and lime'and 
 what not to better the soil, and make it pro- 
 duce corn! All that’s to be wasted, is it? 
 
 Why, you never dream the money that is 
 gone that way ! ” 
 
 „ “ y here ’ s no hel P for ^at,” replied Hopkins : 
 if the trade be made free, that money is clear 
 gone away for ever : and, if you went on raisin- 
 corn on poor soils, to sell at a loss, I don’t see 
 now that would mend the matter.” — “ That ’s 
 why I don’t want the trade to be thrown open,” 
 cried Stubbs. 1 
 
 “But I am talking of what would happen if 
 the trade be thrown open, whether you will or 
 no, said Hopkins. 
 
 “Well,” said Stubbs; “but though the 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 landlords would be obliged to lower their rents, 
 
 I doubt much whether they would bring them 
 down so low as to clear us farmers of any loss 
 by the trade being thrown open.” — “ Why 
 you are always at liberty not to take the farm,” 
 said John. — “ Ay ; but one would rather make 
 a sacrifice than part with house and home that 
 one has been used to ; nor can you part with it 
 without a great loss : besides, how is one to get 
 another farm on better terms, if the landlords 
 agree to hold out against the farmers ? 
 
 “ Why, then the farmers must hold out against 
 the landlords : and what are they to do, if they 
 cannot let their farms ? If they won’t allow farm- 
 ers a fair profit, why, they will look about them 
 for some better means of getting a livelihood.” 
 — “ Ay, but,” replied the farmer, “ it ’s no easy 
 matter to turn your hand to any thing, espe- 
 cially at my time of life ; so I must put up with 
 what I can get, rather than seek to change 
 my condition “ Well, but farmers, if they 
 cannot change, would at least bring up their 
 children to some other calling ; and when the 
 landlords found they had a hard matter to let 
 their farms, they would be obliged to come 
 round at last.” 
 
 « But,” said Stubbs, “ suppose you were to 
 get all the corn from those cheap countries you 
 talk of, and there breaks out a war, why, they 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 181 
 
 would send us no more ; and we should be in 
 a pretty pickle then.” 
 
 “ If we went to war with one country, we 
 should get the corn from another,” said John : 
 “ we should hardly fall out with all the corn 
 countries at once.” 
 
 “ I can’t answer for that,” replied Stubbs, 
 “ as the fashion is in these revolutionary times.” 
 — “ I don’t know what you mean by the fashion 
 of the times, Master Stubbs : here ’s well nigh 
 twenty good years we have had peace in Old 
 England,” said John : “and I have heard say, 
 no one can recollect so long a peace before. 
 There has been fighting abroad, and plenty, it 
 is true ; but then, it has not been, as they tell 
 me, so much one nation coming to blows with 
 another, as it has been the people rising up 
 against their rulers, when they ruled them with 
 an iron rod. But, take my word for it, war or 
 no war, those who have got corn to sell will 
 contrive to ^et it over to a ^ood market. Be- 
 sides, Master Stubbs, I was never for having all 
 our corn from abroad : grow as much as you 
 will here, on good land ; for then it will cost 
 you little to raise : and you can afford to sell it 
 as cheap as we can get it from abroad.” — “ Ay ; 
 but you are forgetting the high rent that ’s paid 
 for good soil, which makes the corn stand you 
 in as much as that grown on a bad soil.” 
 
182 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 “ Nay,” replied John, u it is you who are 
 forgetting that, next Michaelmas two years, your 
 rent will be lowered if the trade be thrown 
 open ; so that you may get your profit, and we 
 may eat our bread cheap ; and all the loss will 
 fall on the landlords, who are best able to bear 
 it. Besides, the poor soils will not lie fallow, 
 though you do not sow them with corn : they 
 will be turned to grass, and feed cattle, which 
 you may make a pretty penny by: and so, meat, 
 and milk, and butter, and cheese, would be more 
 plentiful and cheaper, as well as bread ; and 
 our little ones would stand some chance of get- 
 ting a mess of milk and bread for their break- 
 fasts, and we might more often get a bit of meat 
 in our pot for dinner. Oh, those would be 
 brave times, Stubbs, for us poor folk ! ” 
 
 66 Well, you may say what you will,” cried 
 Stubbs ; “ but I can’t but have a fellow feeling 
 for the landlords, and would rather by half 
 give them a good turn than your foreign corn- 
 dealers.” — “ Give a good turn to the poor of 
 your own country, Master Stubbs ; it ’s they 
 want it most ; and if, by so doing, we chance 
 to serve our neighbours, why, so much the bet- 
 ter, though they are but foreigners. If they 
 have more corn than they want, is it not 
 better that we should have it, than that it 
 should be wasted?” — “ Oh, as for that mat- 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 183 
 
 ter,” cried Stubbs, “ they will take care not 
 to grow more corn than they have a market 
 for. If they have no sale for it abroad, they 
 will raise no more than they want at home. 
 They would not be such fools as to grow corn 
 to have it lie on their hands and rot. Corn is 
 not grown without expense, and a heavy one 
 too, on the best of soils ; so no man in his 
 senses would grow more than he has a fair 
 chance of selling, and with a fair profit besides. 
 No, no, John : wait till home crops fail, and 
 then you may get foreign corn, and welcome.” 
 
 “ But,” said John, archly, “ have not you 
 just been saying, that, in the corn countries, 
 they will not grow more than they want at 
 home, if they have no regular sale for it 
 abroad ; so, if we wait till there comes a scar- 
 city with us, they will not have any to part 
 with.” — “ Oh, leave them alone for that,” 
 cried Stubbs ; “ when the price rises high, 
 they would sooner take it out of their own 
 mouths than miss the making so good a bar- 
 gain.” — c< But, think ye what a price must be 
 paid to tempt them to half starve themselves, 
 in order to let us have the corn. Whilst, if 
 we got some from them regularly every year, 
 why, they would grow it regularly for our mar- 
 ket, and we should have no extra price to 
 N 4 ? 
 
184 
 
 THE CORN TRADE; OR, 
 
 pay. Then, if there came a scarcity, being 
 such good customers, they would let us have a 
 larger supply than usual, without raising the 
 price out of all reason.” — “ Well, but they 
 might have a scarcity as well as us,” replied 
 Stubbs ; “ and then what ’s to be done ? Our 
 corn fields, that have been laid down in grass, 
 cannot be ploughed up in a hurry.” — “ Nor 
 would there be any need of it,” answered Hop- 
 kins ; “ for if the trade were thrown open, we 
 should not deal with one corn country only, 
 but with a dozen, mayhap ; and it ’s hard if 
 their crops all fail the same year. If the 
 season is bad in this part of the world, there ’s 
 a good chance of its being fair in America, 
 which lies quite another way. Look, what a 
 deal of land there is here,” cried Hopkins, 
 pointing to the map of the world : “ why 
 England is but a nutshell to it all ; and why 
 must you be for having all the corn we eat 
 grown in this little spot?” 
 
 u Well, it don’t sound well of you, to say 
 any thing to the disparagement of Old Eng- 
 land,” cried Stubbs. “ If it is but small, it ’s 
 a tight little island, and able to withstand many 
 a greater country when put to it. And why 
 should we not be able to grow corn for the 
 people that live in it, as well as other countries 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 185 
 
 / 
 
 do?” — 66 Why just because we are a great 
 people, living in a little country ; there’s more 
 of us than the land can feed.” — “ But the 
 more people there is, the more hands there are 
 to work, and so the more corn they can grow,” 
 said Stubbs. — “ Ay,” replied Hopkins, “ but 
 the country grows no bigger for being more 
 thickly peopled ; and it ’s land we want to raise 
 corn upon.” — “ Nay, nay,” cried Stubbs, 
 46 you cannot say there ’s any want of land, when 
 so much lies waste in commons and such like.” 
 — " But it’s want of good land that I com- 
 plain of; such soils as you may grow corn on 
 cheap* as they do in corn countries. If there 
 was but half the number of people to feed, 
 perhaps corn enough might be grown in the 
 country to feed them : but the English people 
 are a great nation, as great as any in all this 
 map, I’ll be bold to say. Where is there such 
 a trading country as we are ? and why ? because 
 we have so many manufacturers : but then we 
 must have people to work at the manufactures, 
 besides those that work in the fields ; and both 
 must be fed. Why, for her size, England has 
 perhaps twice as many people as most other 
 countries ; and yet you won’t let us have more 
 bread than we can grow at home ? I tell 
 you it is half starving us : first, because there ’s 
 
1&6 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 not enough ; and next, because you grow the 
 corn on bad soils, and must sell it dear to 
 make it answer.” 
 
 “ Why, Hopkins,” replied the farmer, “ you 
 are now boasting of the great population of 
 this little island, and forgetting that it was but 
 the other day you were complaining of it ; and 
 saying that the misery of the poor came from 
 there being too many people.” — “ And so I 
 do still,” cried John, “ so long as you will not 
 let us have bread to eat, cheap and plenty : 
 that is, as cheap as we might get it if the corn 
 trade were free. If there’s too many people, 
 it’s not for want of room to live in, and stir 
 about as much as they will ; but there ’s too 
 many people, because there ’s not food enough 
 for all. Let us be free to have corn from all 
 parts as cheap as it is to be had, and then, 
 mayhap, there may be enough for all. There 
 never can be too many people when there ’s 
 wherewithal to maintain them ; there cannot 
 be too many happy people : but when they are 
 pinched for food, and suffer in body and mind, 
 they can do no good to themselves or to others 
 either, and the country would be all the better 
 without them.” 
 
 “ Well, but while you are eager to con- 
 vince me,” said Stubbs, “ you never look to 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 187 
 
 yourself; now it’s my belief that you will find 
 it a harder matter to settle your business than 
 mine. If I turn some twenty acres of poor 
 corn land into grass, I shall no longer want 
 labourers to cultivate them. You have got 
 many a day’s labour, Hopkins, in ploughing 
 that land which you would lose ; and if there 
 be some thousand acres laid down in grass, 
 why, it follows that some thousand labourers 
 will be thrown out of work.” 
 
 Hopkins was put out : — at a loss for a 
 reply, he tried to recollect the arguments his 
 landlord had urged in favour of free trade, 
 and at length found one he thought would 
 suit his purpose ; and then, with a demure look, 
 he asked Stubbs “ how the country would pay 
 for all the foreign corn if the trade were free.” 
 
 “ Why, in our manufactures, I suppose,” re- 
 plied Stubbs, thoughtfully. “ Those corn coun- 
 tries that are given to agriculture are, they 
 tell me, in as great want of manufactured 
 goods as we are of corn ; now if they have too 
 little clothing, whilst we have too little food, 
 w r e shall naturally wish to exchange the one 
 for the other ; but how is that to the point?” 
 
 “ Why thus,” said Hopkins ; “ more hands 
 will be wanted in our factories to make the 
 goods that are to pay for the corn, so there will 
 
188 
 
 THE CORN TRADE ; OR, 
 
 be the same number of people employed as 
 before, only in a different line.” 
 
 “ Ay,” cried Stubbs, “ but you cannot go 
 from the field to the factory, as easily as you 
 can from the plough to the thrashing floor.” — 
 “ I grant you that,” replied Hopkins ; “ there 
 will be a season of distress one while, for some 
 of us, as there always is when a change takes 
 place even for the better.” 
 
 “ Well,” retorted Stubbs, “ is not that an 
 excellent reason why things should remain as 
 they are ? Ay, ay,” continued he, “ it is safer 
 to stick to the wisdom of our forefathers.” 
 
 “ Which of them?” enquired Hopkins; “for 
 our forefathers have always been chopping and 
 changing, and finding out something new, from 
 Adam down to the present day. Why, at one 
 time there was no tillage whatever ; then they 
 took to the spade, and raised some few crops ; 
 that was a change, you will grant me. Then 
 from the spade they went to the plough, that 
 was another and a blessed one, though it did 
 throw many out of work. Then the hand loom 
 was invented, and the steam engine ; which 
 was the parent, as one may say, of all our fac- 
 tories. Why, Stubbs, if we made no changes 
 for the better, we should be a disgrace to our 
 forefathers ; they would be ashamed of us, and 
 
THE PRICE OF BREAD. 
 
 189 
 
 our children would have nothing to thank us 
 for. No, we should follow our ancestors, not 
 by servilely doing as they did, but by imitat- 
 ing them, in striking out improvements, and 
 setting an example for our children to do the 
 same in future times.” 
 
London* : 
 
 Printed by A. Spoitiswoooe, 
 N ew-Street- Square. 
 

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