ur, which
of itself is a thing of the highest promise, and more to be rejoiced over
than all the mechanical triumphs which both those who would magnify, and
those who would depreciate, the present age, would be apt to point to as
containing its especial significance and merit.
But what do all these mechanical triumphs come to? It is in vain that
you have learned to move with double or treble the velocity of your
immediate predecessors: it is in vain that you can show new modes of
luxury, or new resources in art. The inquiring historian will give these
things their weight, but will, nevertheless, persevere in asking how the
great mass of the people were fed, and clothed, and taught: and whether
the improvement in their condition corresponded at all with the
improvement of the condition of the middle and upper classes. What a
sorry answer any one, replying for this age, would have to give him. Nor
would it be enough, indeed, if we could make a satisfactory reply to his
questions about the physical state of the people. We ought to be able to
say that the different orders of society were bound together by links of
gratitude and regard: that they were not like layers of various coloured
sand, but that they formed one solid whole of masonry, each part having
its relation of use and beauty to all the others.
Certainly, if we look at the matter, we have not much to say for
ourselves, unless it be in that dawning of good intentions which I have
alluded to before. There is to be found in our metropolis, in our great
towns, and even in our rural districts, an extent of squalid misery such
as we are almost afraid to give heed to, and which we are glad to forget
as soon as we have read or heard of it. It may be that our ancestors
endured, it may be that many savage tribes still endure, far more
privation than is to be found in the sufferings of our lowest class. But
the mind refuses to consider the two states as analogous, and insists
upon thinking that the state of physical and moral degradation often
found amongst our working classes, with the arabesque of splendour and
luxury which surrounds it, is a more shocking thing to contemplate than a
pressing scarcity of provisions endured by a wandering horde of savage
men sunk in equal barbarism. When we follow men home, who have been
cooperating with other civilized men in continuous labour throughout the
livelong day, we should not, without experience, expect to find their
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