University of Virginia Library


132

CHARTISM.

“The Chartists were for the most part working men, who suffered from the distress then generally prevailing, and who looked to further reforms in the system of parliamentary representation for the means of mending their condition. Their name came from their ‘People's Charter,’ the document in which they set forth their demands—universal suffrage; vote by ballot; annual parliaments; the division of the country into equal electoral districts; the abolition of the property qualification of members, and payment of their services. After some rioting in 1839, the Chartists remained tolerably quiet until 1848, when, excited by the revolutions which took place that year in France and other parts of the Continent, they determined to make show of their strength. Mustering on the 10th April on Kennington Common, they designed to march through London to the House of Commons, carrying a petition embodying their demands, which they boasted, though not with truth, to bear more than five million signatures. This was to be presented by Fergus O'Connor, one of the members for Nottingham. Both the Government and the great body of the people met this threatening movement with firmness. The Londoners, to the number of a quarter of a million, enrolled themselves as special constables; the Chartists were not allowed to cross the bridges in procession, and the whole affair passed off quietly, without the troops, which the Duke of Wellington had posted out of sight but at hand, having any need to show themselves. From this time the Chartists ceased to be of any importance as an organised body; but three of the reforms for which they contended have since been carried out by the Acts which abolished the property qualifications, and granted well-nigh universal suffrage and vote by ballot.”—History of England, by Miss Edith Thompson.

Hope, my brothers, will not leave us,
Still her bow is o'er us bent,
And the powers that ne'er deceive us,
Bid us work and be content.
Only Truth and Right shall flourish
In the end, beloved mates;
Only Love uphold, and nourish
Human hearts for human fates.
You have woes by forge and furnace,
You have darkness, you have dread;
But you work in radiant harness,
And your heaven is bright o'erhead.
Does not night bring forth the morning?
Does not darkness father light?
Even now we have forewarning,
Brothers! of the close of night.

133

Slowly creep the brightening shadows
On each mystic mountain-slope,
Beautiful on life's broad meadows
Dawns the sunrise of our hope.
Evil shall give place to Goodness,
Wrong be dispossessed by Right;
Out of old chaotic rudeness,
Slowly grows a world of light.
Do ye toil? Oh, freer, firmer,
Ye shall grow beneath your toil;
Only craven spirits murmur,
Faithless children of the soil.
Through the gloom and through the darkness,
Through the danger and the dole,
Through the mist and through the murkness,
Travels the great human soul.
Ye have read the poet-story,
Told of One who loved our race,
How the gloom outran the glory,
And the wrath outwent the grace;
How he trod the earth in sorrow,
Yet left bliss where'er he trod;
How he died, yet on the morrow
Sprang from death to light and God.
In his love and his endurance,
In his manliness sublime,

134

Labour shone with bright assurance
Of a holier happier time.
O my brothers! love and labour
As the good Lord Christ before;
Learn to bless a needy neighbour,
Even from a scanty store.
Fades the prophet's lovely vision;
While ye talk of force for force;
Rainbow hope and dream Elysian
Fly from Death on his White Horse.
Trust me, there is strength in weakness,
There's a greatness lies in love;
The persistency of meekness
Lifts you to the heavens above.
Have you never felt the pleasure
Of forgiving hate and wrong,
Rippling through your soul like measure
Sweet of sweetest poet's song?
Have you never felt that beauty
Lies in pain for others borne,
That the sacredness of duty
Bids you offer love for scorn?
But you tell me that I mock you
With a measured mincing verse—
O my brothers, I could lock you
To my heart, while I rehearse.

135

But you tell me that your anguish
And your death-toil drive you mad,
That you see your children languish,
Your beloved ones spirit-sad.
And you say: “In homestead quiet,
Where the roses climb and creep,
Where the vine is running riot,
And the bees sing you to sleep,
You can give us counsel gravest,
You can fancy and refine,
And you think your heart the bravest,
And you call your creed divine.
“Once a husband, once a father,
I could praise, and I could pray;
That is over now—I rather
Turn, like God, from God away.
No, I do not speak in malice;
You too from your creed would swerve,
Had you seen your little Alice
And her saintly mother starve.”
Nay, my brother, not so brightly
Have life's waters flowed for me;
Sorrow daily, sorrow nightly,
Comes alike to me and thee.
Broken health, and pain, and trial,
Loss of worldly gear are mine,

136

Yet on life's eternal dial
Hope's eternal sunbeams shine.
O my brother-men heroic!
Quail not at the storm of life,
Christian be you, be you stoic,
Tread not the red fields of strife.
Slowly wisdom grows, and slowly
Grows the fair new world I sing.
Listen! in the silence holy,
Breaks the blossom of its spring.