 | A sketch of old England |  |
LETTER XV.
Mr. —, who, in consequence of his extensive dealings
with the United States, is sometimes partly civil to us
Americans, amused me lately with an account of the anniversary
dinner of the — Society, to which he is
one of the subscribers, and which is honoured by having his
Grace of — for its patron. The dinner was given at the
Old London Tavern, where there is a capital cook, and the
fare equal to any in the city. Indeed, Mr. — seemed,
as I thought, rather to countenance a suspicion, that if it were
not for the bond of good fellowship and good eating at these
places, most of these societies would soon fall to the ground.
The anniversary dinners are, he says, however, aided by the
honour of an association with their Royal Highnesses, who
patronize these societies by always coming to the dinners, and
by the particular care always taken to record their proceedings,
as well as the presence of their Royal Highnesses in the
public papers. This dinner cost some three or four hundred
guineas; and was so excellent, that, I am assured by Mr.
— that the venison and iced Champagne so wrought
upon several present, that they actually subscribed nearly the
amount of the price of a ticket to the charitable fund. He
likewise hinted, that there are not a few of these subscriptionpeople,
who thus unite charity and economy with the gratification
of their appetites, and under cover of the first, escape
the imputation of gluttony and hard drinking. By this you
—, Lord —, or either of the R— D—,
who are extremely liberal in their attendance on the anniversary
dinners. Not one of these, Mr. — assured me,
indulged in any indecorum of speech, or extravagance in
drinking, on this occasion; but whether this proceeded from
a habit of temperance, or an untoward accident, which took
place shortly after the cloth was removed, must be left in
doubt.
You will understand, my dear brother, that no mission can
be sent to India, no poor people relieved, nor any poor children
put to a charity school, unless there be a good dinner, and
plenty of wine consumed, as a sort of modern christian libation
to the goddess of charity. So universal is this practice of
eating and drinking for the benefit of the souls of the Brahmins,
and the bodies of the English, that it is computed the consumption
at these feasts would go a considerable way in relieving
the poor of the nation. In no two places, I am told,
do they keep up this classical mode of making libations more
piously and charitably, than at the meetings of the —
and the Society for the Suppression of Vice and Immorality,
at which last they generally drink eighteen bumper toasts, to
set a good example to tavern tipplers and the rising generation.
In brief, nothing of this kind can be done without a good
dinner, which is a sine qua non with the R— D— and
my Lord —, for which the latter is rather more tenacious
than he was for the sine qua non at the treaty of Ghent.
Not one of the R— D— will patronise a society that does
not give a famous anniversary dinner, with plenty of iced
Champagne.
You are to understand, that these dinners are not given to
the poor people belonging to those institutions, but to the directors,
and not unfrequently out of the charitable fund. But
the grand object is gained. His —, who is himself
a pauper, supported by public bounty, gets an excellent dinner,
and is complimented for eating it; the stewards and directors
get their names in the newspapers, and the whole affair redounds
wonderfully to the credit of their charity! Oh, but
say they, our example at least is beneficial. The example of
the hypocrite can never inspire others with a sincere love of
virtue. On the contrary, as hypocrisy is never consistent
throughout, it is much more likely to injure the cause of virtue
by the frequent display of vices irreconcileable with its own
pretensions. Those, who give charity with one hand, and
gripe the hard earnings of the poor with the other, will more
probably do harm rather than good by their example.
In conformity with this truly charitable custom, after the
business had been gone through, that is to say, after nothing
had been done and a vast deal said, we (I use the language of
Mr. —) sat down to one of the most enormous dinners
I ever saw; the Lord Mayor's feast was nothing to it. Every
body was delighted with the condescension of the duke, and
the bishops sustained their ancient reputation for abstinence at
dinner. His grace of — undertook to prove, that
ignorance was the source of all crimes, but was interrupted
by a candidate for one of the livings in his grace's gift with,
“your grace must except the crime of forgery.” The joke
occasioned a smile even from Sir — —, who is
a very serious man, owing to the vast many murders he hath
committed secundum artem—but the luckless wit, in the opinion
of the company, had lost all chance for the living.
Matters went on swimmingly, and all the children, including
those of the — — —, `bastards and all,' were in
a fair way of being well educated, when the drinking of toasts
began. The first was `the king,' which was pronounced by
the waiter, who acted as toast-master, with infinite devotion,
and drank with still greater, especially by his grace of —
and the bishops. This was of course a bumper toast. A little
after the toast-master bawled out `the queen and the rest
of the royal family,' at which the whole company was struck
dumb, and they all stared as if the hand-writing had been seen
on the wall. `Treason' looked his —, `radicalism'
looked his grace of —, while poor Sir — —,
I think it was, jumped up and snatched the list of toasts out
of the waiter's hands, who was now suspected of being at
least one of the Cato-street conspirators. The toast was there
at full length, but the author and the hand-writing remain unknown
even unto this day, although the Constitutional Society,
aided by the Bridge-street Association, were busily employed
in ferretting out the traitor, who will certainly be
hanged if caught. The poor waiter has been discharged, I
understand, and two government spies sent to watch his motions,
so that if there be any virtue in perjury, I think he is in
a fair way to the gallows.
This unlucky incident of the toast spoiled one of the finest
commencements to a pleasant drinking bout I ever saw; it destroyed
all harmony and confidence; each man now looked
on his next neighbour as a radical, and —, who
drank the toast most loyally, were eyed with marks of jealousy
and suspicion. The drinking now flagged, the company began
to deal in forced laughs, and several excellent jokes had
already fallen dead under the table, when his Royal Highness
of the company. Owing to this untoward accident, the guests
all went home sober, a thing, I am told, that has not occurred
at an anniversary dinner of a charitable society here, within
the memory of man. What rendered this toast so much more
awkward and ill-timed, was, that it came in the very nick
when the name of — — was to have been given, and
— had already cleared his throat, and adjusted
himself for a speech, in reply to the compliment, as is customary
on such occasions. He was actually on his legs, when
the name of the queen knocked him fairly down on his chair,
from whence he rose no more until his final departure.
I should certainly not have mentioned this ludicrous incident,
or given this ludicrous turn to the whole business, had I
not ample reason for doubting the sincerity of the great leaders
in these institutions for curing all the wants, healing all the
sores, and reforming all the vices of mankind in England, by
eating anniversary dinners. But I have seen and see enough
every day to convince me, that these innumerable societies for
bettering the condition of the poor, are, nine out of ten, the
offspring of a great and general plan of the present monopolists
of all the property and patronage of this kingdom, for
bringing the common people into a state of abject dependence,
and thus depriving them, not only of the power, but the will,
to assert their constitutional rights. In the ages of ecclesiastical
tyranny, the people were reconciled to the monopoly of
the church by distributions of alms from the monasteries, which
converted them into idle and dissolute beggars; and now, in
the age of expiring antiquated abuses in government, the same
means are resorted to. The property of the country, if even
tolerably distributed, would be amply sufficient to make the
tenantry farmers instead of beggars; but as this is at present
quite out of the question, it is thought a good stroke of policy
to reconcile them to their fate, by inviting them to poor-houses,
or soup-houses, to eat the miserable pittance of charity. Thus
these new and increasing charities are nothing more than links
in the chain, by which the people are kept in a state of degrading
dependence on the rich, and taught to be grateful to the
benefactor, who takes pounds from the produce of the
labouring peasant in tithes and rents, and gives them pennies
in charity.
Charity, however, as it would seem, is no longer the modest,
unobtrusive, blessed minister, who walked forth in secret and
in silence, alone and in darkness, to solace the wants of deserving
sufferers. She must be treated with anniversary dinners,
complimentary toasts, and puffs innumerable in the newspapers
engine to enslave a whole people, by inuring them to habits of
abject dependence, and making them fit only for what they
will soon become.
I grant you, brother, that when I see the rich, the clergy,
and the nobility liberally contributing to these societies, it
seems little less than wicked to doubt their motives. Yet let
me not be deterred from questioning motives and actions,
directly tending to corrupt and debase mankind. Half the
evils of this world are produced by the abuse or misapplication
of a good thing to a bad purpose. The delicacy which
shrinks from detecting hypocrisy in whatever garb, whether of
charity or religion, is treason to mankind.
It is a fact which nobody, except Mr. Vansittart, can or will
deny, that a great portion of the present distress, in this country,
arises from taxation, rents, and tithes, combined. What
then should be the great object of those who are really animated
with a pure and disinterested passion for the good of
their fellow-countrymen? Certainly to diminish as far as possible
these burthens—to adapt the amount of rents and tithes
to the present depressed state of agriculture and manufactures.
They would, at least such is my humble opinion of philanthropy,
large, comprehensive, practical and efficient—they
would, in their capacity of legislators, resist, on all occasions,
every attempt to lay any additional burthens on the people—they
would use every effort within the limits of rational economy,
to diminish the expenditures of government; and, if clergy
or landholders, gradually relinquish a portion of tithes, and
lower the rents of their poor tenants, already bowed to the
earth by taxes, that eat the coats from their backs and the food
from their tables.
With respect to those numerous charitable schools established
of late years, they are, for the most part, intended for little
else than mere means of strengthening particular sects, by
bringing up the children educated by them, in the tenets of
the church, under whose patronage the school happens to be
placed. Thus the church of England has its schools supported
by what by courtesy is called charity, but at which no child is
admitted, whose parents will not consent to its being educated
in the tenets and forms of this particular church. This is also
the case with the dissenters, the methodists, and every other
denomination, whose different charity schools are exclusively
devoted to the education of religious proselytes, and, for the
most part, beyond doubt, originated in the spirit of jealousy,
rivalship, and esprit du corps. Within a few years past more
than one plan of national education has been defeated by the
saw, in them, the seeds of danger to its predominating influence;
and it is now well understood, that Mr. Brougham
has abandoned his great scheme for rendering education general
in this country by national patronage, through the opposition
of the dissenters, who, it seems, with all their horrors of ignorance,
had rather the people should remain ignorant, than give
to the established church, and the government which is incorporated
with it, the means of making proselytes through the
medium of national schools. Thus you see, brother, what is
really the honest truth, that charity here, as elsewhere, often
covers a multitude of sins, and takes care to look sharp
through religious spectacles, before she will contribute a
penny.
How different is this from OUR DEAR LITTLE NEW ENGLAND;
of which every man who drew his first breath there, feels the
prouder, the more he sees of the rest of the world. There
education is the general property of the whole people; and
the poorest child of the poorest man that breathes our air, receives
his education without feeling it as a degradation, because
he has paid his little portion for this purpose to the state,
and is as much entitled to the benefits of the establishment as
the richest person in the country. Neither parent nor child is
obliged to profess or abjure any particular creed, or to belie
their consciences under the penalty of living in utter ignorance;
nor does the meanest urchin ever feel the degrading consciousness,
that he is beholden to the charity of strangers for the
nurture of his mind. Well may our New England people
boast of this distinction, which is peculiar to themselves, and
long may they resist any and every attempt to prop up a particular
church, or strengthen a particular sect or party by the
establishment of charity schools, where the test of admission
is a religious creed, and its consequences but too often a confirmed
and base-born habit of perpetual dependence on charity,
for what every one ought to rest upon his own exertions to
supply.
This country plumes itself upon its superiority over all
others in charities, and urges its pretensions with an arrogance
that cannot fail of provoking a scrutiny into the motives for
these boasted establishments. Those who make the greatest
claims upon our admiration, must expect to be tried by motives
as well as actions; and the people, who are ever boasting of
their virtues, will certainly, sooner or later, be convicted of
hypocrisy. I cannot easily bring my mind to comprehend the
purity of that charity, which racks the industrious out of
pounds, and gives away pennies to the idle and thriftless. I
cannot believe in that benevolence or generosity, which gives
insatiable monopoly of all the rest. In short, when I see
hardened profligates, who live in the daily violation of social
and moral duties; inexorable landlords, who are every day
distressing their tenants for rent; and inflexible parsons, who
will not forego a little of their tithes, contributing at public
meetings to societies for propagating morality and religion,
and relieving distress, it is impossible to help taking it for
granted, that the first seek to cover their debaucheries, the
latter their extortions, under the sacred mantles of piety and
benevolence.
| A sketch of old England | |