Page images
PDF
EPUB

POSITION OF GOVERNMENT CLERKS.

tributed have done so under ample notice. They entered the public service well knowing that those contributions and

those terms would be exacted.

Such was the notable explanation of Sir James Graham as to his intentions and impressions at the time of introducing the bill; and we have no hesitation in saying that, if the report of his and Lord Grey's apeeches in the Mirror of Parliament be correct, which we firmly believe, notwithstanding the wily baronet's disclaimer, both the House of Commons and the country were most grossly deceived. Beyond a doubt, the bill was passed under an impression that a fund was to be created upon the principle of insurance, and for the sole benefit of those who contributed to it; in Sir James's own words, they will pay the premiums themselves, and secure the whole benefit. A fool could not err in the interpretation of words so plain, simple, and comprehensive; but what is the actual result of the working of this precious piece of ministerial robbery ?

No sooner was it passed, the word "fund" being left out of the bill (whether by accident or design is no matter, the House was pledged to the principle), all idea of forming a fund was at once abandoned, although up to the present year the farce of calling it "the Superannuation Fund" has been kept up by the Treasury in their yearly accounts. The deductions have ever since been paid into the account of the Consolidated Fund, and disposed of as the Treasury have thought fit. And so far from the premiums" having been founded for the sole benefit of the payers, as Sir James Graham blandly assured the House, out of £860,000 deducted, not more than the odd £60,000 have been paid in pensions to the contributors, the whole surplus of £800,000, wrested from the hard-earned wages of the clerks, having gone in payment of the pensions of those who have never subscribed a shilling!

[ocr errors]

Nor is this the only grievance the civil service clerks have to complain of. Upon the new scale of pensions the superannuations have been greatly reduced to those who are subject to the tax, who are in fact, far worse off in this respect than any of those who do not suffer any deductions; so that they suffer on all hands, both by a reduction of salary, and a reduction of pension.

But by far the most conclusive and telling evidence was that of R. M. Bromley, Esq., the Accountant-General of the Navy, who, by his extensive acquaintance with all matters relating to the public offices, and as Chairman of the Committee of Civil Servants, has become thoroughly versed in all the details of this monster grievance. Never was evidence given in a more clear, straightforward, and fearless manner; and how the committee could withstand this evidence, and recommend the passing of the infamous bill, we can only account for by their utter destitution of moral and humane feelings. The cases of abject distress brought before them by Mr. Bromley should have touched hearts of stone. Take the

87

[blocks in formation]

Question: Would it be of any importance whether that sum was applied to the uses of Government, or was funded to the uses of a Provident Fund, with respect to the pressure upon the income of the individual who paid it ?

Answer: Yes, in this way; men now go to work harassed with cares for the future state of their families; they are not able to attend to their business in the way they ought to attend to it. There are numerous cases where individuals upon their death-beds have been in an unhappy state of mind, knowing that their families are left in the most abject distress, that there is nothing even to support them; and their friends have been obliged to go round to the public offices to raise sums of money to bury them. There was a case at the Admiralty of a man with a good salary, who had ten children, who was obliged to give up an insurance he effected on his life. Sickness came on, and positively that individual died without a shilling in the house, and his family were obliged to come to his fellow clerks for money to bury him.

The gentlemen of the civil service are expected by their superiors to appear as gentlemen; and any one who should go to his office with a shabby coat would be frowned upon as a disgrace to the service; but the Treasury acts too meanly as regards them to enable them to do this, and at the same time to support their families in the commonest comforts, or even necessaries of life. By a paper prepared by Mr. Farr, stating the annual expenditure of a married clerk, with two children and a servant, upon the strictest rules of economy, it is shown that with an income of £200 per annum, reduced by the superannuation tax to £177 6s. 8d., he will find himself minus six pounds at the end of the year, without allowing anything for the education of his children, sittings in a place of worship, recreation in the country (so much needed), wine or spirits, or-worse than all -insurance! Is this a state of things relative to one section only of the Government servants that Parliament will any longer tolerate? And yet this is the condition of those deserving men, while its permanence was endorsed by the majority of the committee of last year, upon which were three Chancellors of the Exchequer and a Lord of the Treasury, every one of whom must be cognisant of the injustice of the case, and who being, or having been in receipt of untaxed salaries, shut their hearts and their ears to the iniquity of thus perpetuating a system, commenced in fraud, and continued in robbery.

A gross misrepresentation of Sir James Graham in his evidence must not be left unnoticed. He stated broadly that the superannuation tax was intended instead of a reduction of salary which was contemplated. This is false in so far as the prevention of the reduction of salaries was concerned. By Mr. Bromley's evidence it appears that all the Government offices underwent a revision, and that large reductions were made in many cases, amounting in the aggregate to the sum of £700,974. This was between the years

[blocks in formation]

1821 and 1829, and therefore quite irrelative to the superannuation tax, or the reduction of pensions, which had not then been inflicted. How Sir James could muster face to make such a statement, when he knows that the salaries are barely adequate to support the clerks in the necessaries of life, can only be accounted for by a melancholy disregard of the rules of political morality which has distinguished him through life. But whatever subterfuges he resorted to in his evidence before this committee, the evidence of Sir C. Trevelyan remains untouched, and it is as plain as words can make it, that the Bill was obtained by false pretences; and that whilst the obnoxious principles of it have been worked to the utmost, the spirit of the measure, favourable to the contributors, has been wholly disregarded and departed from, to the irreparable injury of the sufferers, the disgrace of the Government, and the shame of Parliament.

What then is to be done, in this iniquitous dis regard of the principles of justice, with this very black spot upon the character of our British honesty and generosity to public servants? The servants of the Crown should be put upon such a footing as to be able to support themselves in comfort and respecta bility, and make provision for their families at their decease. "A Royal Commission" has been issued, it is true, to inquire into the case, and that committee is now sitting. From a bank director being

appointed on it, we have reason to hope that their report will be favourable to the repeal of the Act of 1834. But this is only the first step in the business, and it is probable that any Bill for that purpose will meet with the strenuous opposition of the Government, backed by the Grahams, the Bariugs, the Stanleys, the Gladstones, and the whole body of receivers of untaxed salaries in the two Houses; nothing, in fact, can be hoped for, unless the country at large take the matter in hand, and, with one voice, ask for the repeal of this shabby and stupid Bill. The country has need indeed to perform a lustration to clear itself of a participation in the crime, in which it is impli cated by its silent acquiescence in its perpetration. Ignorance of its extent and fatal effects may have been some excuse hitherto; but now that the subject is known, and has been so amply discussed, it will no longer be a valid plea for silence.

The writer of this paper is in no way interested in the question, having never received a penny of the public money, either as a clerk in a public office or otherwise. He has, however, studied the subject con amore, ever since 1848, and come to the conclusion, that a more glaring act of injustice has never been perpetrated by the Go verument, or one which has entailed more misery upon a large body of men, by depriving their fa milies of future support, and themselves of present comfort and peace of mind,

TANGLED TAL K,

'Sir, we had talk."-Dr. Johnson.

"Better be an outlaw than not free."-Jean Paul, the Only One.

"The honourablest part of talk is to give the occasion; and then to moderate again, and pass to somewhat else."-Lord Bacon.

NEW WORDS AND LOCUTIONS. MR. A. DE MORGAN said, in a recent letter to the Daily News, that we ought to have the word "sarcast," to indicate one who speaks or writes sarcastically (for once) without being professedly a satirist. Who will help to introduce it? At last, "telegram," for a telegraphic despatch, is becoming familiar. But these things take time. Mr. Macaulay has not succeeded in naturalising the ablative absolute in English, though it would be a very useful saving of words. How much shorter to write, as he once did, "sitting the Parliament," instead of "while the Parliament was sitting." It is only quite recently that we have nearly all gathered courage to employ "whose" as the relative to nouns of the neuter gender, saying, "the house whose windows," &c., &c., instead of "the house of which the windows," or, "the windows of

which." The Spanish language has a very useful participle applied to things before named between persons in communication. Instead of saying (for instance) "the cases referred to in your letter of such a date," a Spaniard amply explains himself by saying, "las cajas consabidas”—the cases known of, or with, or between us; and this under circumstances where we could not gracefully use the phrases "in question," "referred to," and so on. A process of interchange is constantly going on between France and England, and Germany and both, as to new words and locutions. Poets and imaginative writers are great innovators. So are the newspapers. But is not the French of to-day more Anglicised in construction that our English is Gallicised? There are some very nice French words and expressions which we want introduced, "Rest tranquil," we remenber in Shelley; but it

is not common.

MORAL DIFFERENTIATION,

There is the word morne, which | seems to express a depth of sadness attaching to no English word. How pathetic to read-" Elle gardait une morne silence." The word is as superior to our "melancholy," as the German "thränen" to our "tears."

MORAL DIFFERENTIATION.

A FRIEND of the present writer was once rallying him upon habits of some little seclusion and absti. nence imposed upon him by delicate health. It was insisted that, to the literary type of character, conviviality and a gallant style of living

But always, reader, in a modest way,
Observe, for that must be a sine quá—

are essential features, and the late Professor Wilson was instanced as a model specimen of the man of letters. He who now holds the pen admitted that breadth of sympathy, and openness to all genial impulses, should indeed distinguish every man, especially the imaginative man; but that character was one thing and conduct another; that innumerable, incalculable conditions of physique and of mental faculty must, in every case, go to modify the exhibition of the generic peculiarity; that, for instance, a full chest, or, at all events, a proper physical training in early life, must go before a healthy animatism; and that, to pass from heart and Jungs to brain, the presence of, say, a greater amount of the scholarly, or the philosophic, element in an imaginative man, would necessarily modify the hearty sociality and convivialism which are admitted to be natural to the poetic temperament. It is not easy to conceive a convivial Leibnitz, or Locke, or Newton-though such a thing were possible, and though noble minds of all categories are, for the most part, free, open, and hearty. But it is easy to conceive a poetic man with sufficient of the Leibnitz element to reduce very materially the poetic tendency to enjoyment and excitement. And such a man is as much entitled to the quiet tenure of his speciality as he is to show, unrebuked, a Grecian nose or a hazel eye. Nor is that all, for a respectable list might be made out of abstemious men of imaginative mould. If Milton's Puritanism should be thought to make him an exception not to be calculated from (though that would be a false thought, since Milton's faith was as essential to Milton the poet as the march of Milton's numbers), what is to be said for Shelley -bim of the "Cor Cordium ?"

Though we eat little flesh, and drink no wine,
Yet let's be merry! We'll have tea and toast,
Custards for supper, and an endless host
Of syllabubs, and jellies, and mince-pies
And other such like lady-luxuries,
Feasting on which we will philosophise.

On the whole, the present writer and then talker submitted that no general rule should be enforced, though one might be laid down. Yet not even laid down without differentiation. As thus: Convi

89

vialism is natural to the literary type of character, under average conditions; but the amount and the exhibition of that feature are liable, in every separate case, to be modified by accidents of physique and of mental peculiarities. The reply was, that "then there is an end of speaking of men and things in the lump altogether-it is nonsense to talk of a race, a parish, a profession, or anything of the sort, and we are lost in hair-splitting."

The answer to this must be-These things, all things, go by comparison. Be it so, that for all purposes of criticism, moral, literary, and other, the lump-that of differentiation there is no end, there is an end, with wise men, of all speaking in if we want the truth. And the ratio of the thing is obvious. You may speak of "a race" in the lump, if your main theme of differentiation is the race; because a race stands related to that as a species. By the same rule, when you descend, a class in a race becomes a new species of a genus, and demands its own special subordinate analysis. And again, an individual in a class necessarily claims the same "hair-splitting" process-only, as you cannot divide him into separate existences, you must measure off the elements that go to his composition, if you would estimate him aight. He stands related to his class precisely as his class stands related to his species, and is entitled to precisely the same differentiating criticism.

Thus, starting from a particular case, we have arrived at a general rule, which should serve as a guide, not only in morals, but in literature and elsewhere. How foolish, how childish, in the light of this idea, appears such a question as-Is Pope a poet? It could only be asked by some uncatholic mind, bent upon setting up its own standand, without allowing for specific deviations. Was Peel a patriot? Was Cromwell a hero?— are questions of the same impatient class, not to be answered without wide differentiation-questions to which you may say yes and no, all in a breath, with perfect consistency.

Such expressions as a good man, a religious man, a modest woman, a faithful friend, absolute in their meaning, can, of course, only be comparative in their application. The nearer an individual may approach to the type of "a religious man," for instance, the more positively the title applies to him. But once pass a certain line, and you must differentiate infinitely, if you seek the truth. This is surely obvious; yet it is not only neglected in the hurry of daily business; but it is deliberately scouted as a principle of moral judgment by the class who are fond of what they think "broad views," and do not like the trouble of thinking twice.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

ACCIDENTAL PATHOS.

IN a translation of "Faust" now before me, Mar-
garet's appeal to the Mater Dolorosa, when she
sets fresh flowers in the pots, stands thus:-

Mother of many sorrows! deign, oh deign
To turn thy face with pity on my pain!
The sword hath entered in thy heart-
Thou of a thousand pangs hast part;
Thou lookest up, thou gazest on
The death of HIM who was thy son!

The flower-pots at my window
Were wet with tears like dew,
As I, in the early morning,
Gathered these flowers for you.

:

change before quitting shelter; the conductor, ments of our criminal jurisprudence, and the whole hurried me out, without giving me my change pre- scheme of reformatory machinery, are only practical viously, and there I stood in the wet. I supposed moral differentiations. at first that some lady might be waiting to get in, and therefore complied with the man's evident wish to see me on terra firma. But there was no lady. Here, then, was conduct on the man's part to which we should apply the word "unkind." But, was he an unkind man ? Well, I looked in his face on the spot, feeling concerned to solve that very question, and seeing there not a mere superficial ruddiness, but a genuine hearty good nature, I unhesitatingly voted the fellow kind, though he had done an unkind thing. But I saw, at the same time, in his face and carriage, the plain expression of natural insolicitude. He was a man who took things as they came; looking neither before nor behind for suggestions or consequences. This was a case for moral differentiation; it is a common one, and it will serve to illustrate a thousand. The man might have had a kinder heart than I; yet, I, partly perhaps from cultivation, but far more from natural thoughtfulness, should never have done so unkind a thing. If anybody should say this conductor (or any individual in the habit of doing "thoughtless" things, for whom the conductor may stand) could not have been a kind man, because, in the words of Mr. Taylor, in his "Notes on Life," love begets solicitude; I reply that that expression is figurative, and, philosophically considered, inaccurate. The real truth is, that love quickens solicitude which is latent, and that which is quickened grows; kindness, pure and simple, stimulates the intellect, which, in its turn, informs the hand. But how can I be judge from one solitary action, or from a thousand, of the relative proportions in another's mind, of his natural good-will and his natural power of forecast? It is impossible; and, whatever measures I may take for my own protection in dealing with such a man, I am bound to be careful in apportioning to him praise or blame.

It is not necessary to multiply examples. I have chosen very familiar ones, which will come home to men's business and bosoms. If you say you cannot spare all this thought about ordinary things-that a spade is a spade, and you must be content with calling it so; I am sorry for you. But I must be allowed to split hairs till all is blue, if I like it. And the current of moral criticism, not only of individual minds, but of the body politic, is-I rejoice to write it-constantly advancing in fineness and discrimination. A dishonest action is a dishonest action, and a thief is a thief; but the kind thoughtfulness of our time insists upon splitting moral hairs, and the amend

In a general way, a change from the use of the
second person singular to the colloquial second
person plural, has, in poetry, a most unpleasant
effect. Bat we have here an instance to the con-
trary. It is a case of accidental pathos. "You"
and "dew" rhyme (passably well), and that is made
an excuse for the change from singular to plural in
the form of address-unless, indeed, some under-
flowing instinct told Mr. Filmore that the " "you"
would be more pathetic. The literal translation of
Goethe's words would be-

The flower-pots before my window
Bedewed I with tears-ah, me!
As I in the early morning

Gathered these flowers for thee.

In

On the continent, to tutoyer another is to use the language of affectionate familiarity: everywhere "thou" is held to suit better with the refinements and solemnities of poetry in certain cases. England, familiarity says "you ;" and "I did it for you," "I got this for you," "I brought it for you," is a locution so associated in all our minds with loving intercourse, and, under particular circumstances, with a pleading tone in the speaker, that, by using such a form in this case, the writer has trebled the pathos of the verse. Did he mean it at all, or only half mean it ? Did the rhyme suggest the "you," or did a subtle perception of propriety accompany or precede the hint of the rhyme? Let us not inquire too curiously into such things. What theory of poetic inspiration would stand against much of this kind of criticism? I fear, none.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

CHAPTER III.

a

CHRISTMAS has passed away-another new year has dawned upon us, bringing with it new joys, new sorrows, new hopes, and new fears. Buried in the past with that departed year lie our broken vows, nullified resolutions, and fruitless aspirations. Born with this New Year's birth come vows for the future, lofty aspirations as yet unfulfilled, and remorseful recollections over the dead year's grave. It is night; and I am again alone in my quiet room in this quiet old house. My fire is bright as everits shadows are yet fertile in broken memoriesmy meerschaum is charged with "right Varinas" as before, and I am on the extreme confines of that "Tom Tickler's ground" of the mind, dreamland, again. I am a young man, yet I have many memories and few friends. Moreover, I am lonely man in life; therefore, I suppose, I love these same memories, and my inditing of them, as now, because, when I am so dreaming and writing, I feel less alone in the world. In you, dear reader, I think I find a friend, even though it be but for a brief half hour. Bear with me then, pity me for my loneliness, and be thankful that you have around you those presences of which I have but broken memories. As before, the shadows of my fire flicker quietly along the oaken wainscotting the few inmates of the old house have long ago retired to rest, leaving me in silent possession of my sanctum, aud, as a consequence, I babble to you again. Opposite to me is a tall, uncomfortablelooking, high-backed chair, half-baked to a seasonable brownness (I will not answer to the shades of departed lexicographers for this noun), by a century's sojourn in this room by the fire. That same chair is, in itself, as ugly a specimen of antique upholstery as any old lady, who loves antiquity and stained oak, would wish to see in a week's perambulation of Wardour-street, Soho, and its vicinity. But though the chair, after all, is ugly and commonplace, it has strangely-moving associations hovering about it to-night. If chairs were ever cognisant of the lives of their occasional occupants, this chair's story would be much like mine. In that chair sat five years ago, to the very day and hour, a young girl-a friend of my sister, and who had come down with her from a London "finishing school" to spend the Christmas vacation with us here. Well do I remember little mild-eyed Mary Leigh; long has the memory of her six weeks' sojourn here weighed upon my mind. She was a little, flaxen-haired girl, with a high, pale forehead, and those unforgotten, soft,

"twilight grey" eyes of hers, in which lay a depth of feeling too soon to be evoked, and too soon chilled by early death. But I anticipate sadly; for alas! sadness is so absorbing a part of her history that I ever do this when speaking of her. I remember, on the night of her first arrival at this place, seeing a demure little maiden walk quietly across our hall and then seize my sister in energetic affection, as is sweetly customary with young girls fresh from school, and new to the world's colder proprieties. There was nothing in all this to warrant the subsequent interest she excited in my mind

absolutely nothing to account for the long hours of pensive regret over a memory that has so often tinged my solitude with sorrow. This may be an incoherent way of telling you a life-history- but that life-history was painfully incoherent-bright in its beginning, dark in its course, dreary in its early close. A short time after she left us, on her return to school, she received a letter from her mother, saying that she was a widow, and Mary fatherless. Her father, once an eminent merchant, had failed, and, unable to bear the cold eye and averted look of former friends, had died in despair, of a broken heart. After the year of mourning had expired, Mary Leigh awoke to life's stern realities--she was leaving home, her dear mother, and the old nurse, who had loved her from her birth as a daughter, for a stranger's fireside.

[ocr errors]

Going out as a governess." Simple words truly; yet how much misery do they too often foreshadow and embody! The leaving home at any time, under any circumstances, for an indefinite period, is a sad thing to a young heart. How much more so to Mary, who felt that she was leaving her poor widowed mother for strange faces, and stranger hearts, in a strange county, far from the scene of her early happiness. I never hear that same phrase, "going out as a Governess," without sad, bitter thoughts. Think of the many ties ruthlessly snapped asunder in that one short parting hour; think of the many home-delights that must be at once and for ever relinquishedthink of unprotected innocence and guileless inexperience; think how coldly fall from a stranger's lips words of greeting on the heart of the young girl standing silently on the stranger's threshold. See that child of many prayers, in the school room, bearing the flouts of upstart Mammon, or the freezing courtesy, it may be, of patrician pride. A servant in reality-a governess in name is she -with that moral incubus, a position to maintain, and a forced cheerfulness to counterfeit. See her

« PreviousContinue »