not seem liberal, but one has
as yet heard no complaints of overcrowding. It may be said, however,
that the workman reads his paper regularly. That is quite true. The
paper which he most loves is red-hot on politics; and its readers are
assumed to be politicians of the type which consider the Millennium
only delayed by the existence of the Church, the House of Lords, and a
few other institutions. Yet our English working man is not a
firebrand, and though he listens to an immense quantity of fiery
oratory, and reads endless fiery articles, he has the good sense to
perceive that none of the destructive measures recommended by his
friends are likely to improve his own wages or reduce the price of
food. It is unfortunate that the favourite and popular papers, which
might instruct the people in so many important matters--such as the
growth, extent, and nature of the trades by which they live, the
meaning of the word Constitution, the history of the British Empire,
the rise and development of our liberties, and so forth--teach little
or nothing on these or any other points.

If the workman does not read, however, he talks. At present he talks
for the most part on the pavement and in public-houses, but there is
every indication that we shall see before long a rapid growth of
workmen's clubs--not the tea-and-coffee make-believes set up by the
well-meaning, but honest, independent clubs, in every respect such as
those in Pall Mall, managed by the workmen themselves, who are not,
and never will become, total abstainers, but have shown themselves, up
to the present moment, strangely tolerant of those weaker brethren who
can only keep themselves sober by putting on the blue ribbon.
Meantime, there is the public house for a club, and perhaps the
workmen spends, night after night, more than he should upon beer. Let
us remember, if he needs excuse, that his employers have found him no
better place and no better amusement than to sit in a tavern, drink
beer (generally in moderation), and talk and smoke tobacco. Why not? A
respectable tavern is a very harmless place; the circle which meets
there is the society of the workman: it is his life: without it he
might as well have been a factory hand of the good old time--such as
hands were forty years ago; and then he would have made but two
journeys a day--one from bed to mill, and the other from mill to bed.

Another magnificent gift he has obtained of late years--the excursion
train and