Morning journal and courier., 1892-08-08

have figured itself out to be anything but
samptuous or even a happy one.
Notwithstanding this, however. ths
London bricklayer Is better off In the
amount Of wages he gets than any other
workers in the building trade, with two
exceptions only. These are plumbers, and
what are called stone fxers. 1t is proven
bial of the former In our own country that
they walk off with the best plum in the
labor pie, and they seem to do the same
over here. Yet how little is this prize
worth after all, when both plumbers and
stone hxers must work hfty-two and one
half hours a week to pocket on Saturday
the mesgre sum of about ten dollars and
hfty cents. The superior wages which
these get Is sometimes earned also BY
plssterers, but the general run of the lat
ter fall a dollar below that figure. The
scale for masons, carpenters and slsters
is ninepence an hour. Painters get eight
pence an hour. For such kinds of labor
as scaffolding, ho!sting and the handling
or timber, sixpence hspenny an hour is
paid, and for other grades of common Ia
Dor only siIpenoe. Such at lesst were the
ngures given to us by the manager at the
/ buildings We visited In Batterses, and the
best proof that they are not lower than
are actually paid is the fact that the con-
tractor for this work had Just been voted
an increase on his bid, rolely, as the pa
pers alleged, in view of the increased d.
mensions of his pay roll. Perhaps, in
deed, on this very account. the scale of
wages given above might reasonably be
discounted q little. But however that
may be, the contrast between these and
American wages in the same lines of trade
VIII be sufficiently apparent for all prsc-
tical purposes, and ii will be evident,
also, from the facts given in this and In
former letters, that this difference does
not begin to be made up to the poorly
paid British workman-spite of the pop
ulsr theory to that effect-by any Advan-
tage he may enjoy in the cost of living
From BatterseA let ue 90 to White
chapel. The name suggests at once loath-
some, mysterious and still unpublished
crimes. But 1t Is also Synonymous with
grinding poverty, with Ill paid labor, with
the tragic battle of the masses for subsist-
ence, with rags and vice. with drink and
ever gnawing hunger. For those whose
instincts incline them to the vulgar occu-
patton OF stunning" there is plenty to
be seen in Whitechspel. Scores of yisi-
tors go there every day and every night
merely to view the localities of the late
blood curdling murders. and others 60 to
reek their imaginstions in a so-cAlled study
of the degrading social conditions which
made atrocities of that sort possible. Our
own visit was made for a better purpose
and perhaps, for that reason. We saw things
with more hopeful vision. 1t was Satur-
day evening and not yet dark. We did
not penetrate into the courts and alleys
and candor compels us to report that what
We saw on the principal thoroughfAres was
pleasing rather than otherwise. The sp-
pearance of the people Was no worse than
that of the average Saturday night crowd
m IA ~ n-z
thing which specially struck rs was the
large number of well dressed Hebrews,
with their wives, cousins and aupts,"
who were on parade. Perhaps these rep
resentatives of a long favored race looked |
all the more attractive from the poverty |
and supposed disreputableness of their |
surroundings. But they were very pleas |
ant to see, and the fact which accounted |
for their holiday looks and airs of leisure.
viz, that religions principle was sufficient
ly vital with a certain class of it's leading
merchants to secure a suspension of bust
ness and a putting up of shutters sgainst
gain on the best business night of the
week even in surdid. struggling and want
stricken WhitechHpel, afforded US, as we
reflected upon it, sensations which were
still more pleasant; though, perhaps, could
We have seen the sharp trade some of these
would be driving at church time next day
Petticoat lane, our satisfaction might have
diminished somewhat.
It is .Toynbee Hall We are seeking, a
place of sweetness and light, an education
al center. planted, happily, as go many
such places are now in this city, in sur
roundings where ii Is much needed We
have an engagement here with Mr.. w. g.
Pearson, "a prominent lecturer on social |
topics, a leading official in the Dockers'
union, and member of the executive
committee of the London Trades council |
He meets us in the library, a trim, dark
eyed young fellow of about thirty, and as
We adjourn for conversation 10 the court
yard of the hall he waves with psrdonable
pride hand still horny from the hard
work it does, aud says of the stately pile
about us, This is my Alma Mater" He
is man who has risen from the ranks and
yet is still in the ranks. With no chance
at all to get a day school education, he has
attended lectures and classes at Toynbee
Hal, and has SO employed his evenings in
it's splendid reading room that now he
can speak with the best. aud is more than
ft to hold conversation on almost any
subject with her majesty. He is often
chosen to interview political leaders, and
it was but recently that ne was talking
back" at Gladstone. Still, however, does
he toll a common docker, and he lives
on dockers' wages. He prefers to do this,
because his aim in life being to lift up his
fellow laborers, he believes he can accom-
plish this better by staying with them on
their own hard level of toll and pay.
This gentleman confirmed what had
been previously told us of the life and
| wages of the toilers on the Thames by
Mr. Quelch. Their pay is nominally at the
rate of sixpence ha'penny and seven pence
an hour. but, leaving out the many who
hardly ever get anything to do, their aver
age weekly earnings will not much exceed
ten shillings. He himself, by working
when he could, would hardly average
more than eighteen shillings -four dollars
and fifty cents) a week. Having no one to
/ care for but himself he managed to get
along on that, but could not conceive how
| those lived who had families. Far out
| from the center of London small dwellings
| of four rooms might be had, he said, for
| six and sixpence a week. but the railroad
| fare even ON workmen's trains would add
| to that another shilling or more, and in
London itself it would be hard indeed to
| get house for less than eleven shillings a
| week. AS we sat there in the twilight of
Toynbee court yard Mr.. Pearson discoursed
eloquently and with moving pathos upon
/ the awful lot of the London laborers. He
| was not orthodox in the churchly sense,
/ he said, vet his work in their behalf he
looked upon the NEST religions work he
could engage in. The mass of the men
themselves moved only in great labor
struggles like so many automAtOns. They
accepted poor pay aud grinding want As
their natural inheritance, and not only
did not know how to go to work to get
anything better, bot for the most part
were SO utterly without spirit and ordina-
ry human ambition that they hardly as
pired after anything bitter.
By this time a squad of Whitechapel
boys had gathered in the court, and one of
the Toynbee instructors was putting them,
with somewhat comicsl results, through
the rudiments of military drill. There, )"
said Mr. Pearson, pointing TO this squad Of
gamins-"There is cur hope for the fnal
emancipation of labor in London. Those
boys look rough, but they are going TO
school, to our ever progressing rnblic
schools in this city They are learning of
things about which their fathers know
nothing, and are being fitted to live in
surroundings as different from those at
present to be found bp iaboring people as
Paradise differs from Hades. "Will the
government" he asked, ''have nothing bet
ter for such men as they will become than
to turn them out on the streets to fight for
crusti Or, If 1t should have nothing
better than that for them, how long do