Denton and Haughton Examiner, etc. — 1884-12-13 (Denton, Greater Manchester, England)

ERTY. —lt is forgotten that while to the lowest scale of human life poverty ie a hard lot somewhat tempered by habit, to higher gradea of society poverty is really a crime. They dare not show to their ne'ghbours and output.ances any outward evidences of their poverty—they dare not reveal the terrible pinchings and struggles they go through to keep their little home together, or the a”iety they suffer in raising the little rent they have to pay weekly for a humble lodging in a respectable house and neighbourhood. The poor gentleman, the poor lady, the poor clerk out of employment, most maintain their respectability, for their pecuniary rain means elan social ruin. There is a point in certain gradm of human exiatence where rmpectability becomes a burden and a ten. It is all very well to soy," them is menial labour open to them." There is no greater cant abroad than the affectation that menial labour is a disgrace; but menial labour requires skill, and unless a man or wornan be reared to it, he or she is valueless in that capacity. To he a competent navvy or labourer requires a certain muscular development and training. To he a skilled carpenter or bricklayer requires as much knowledge, skill, and nicety of notches many callingsof higher repute. I am purposely putting aside all considerations of the natural and actual horror and pain felt; by all refined natures at contact with sordid surrounding. and Mandy vulgar associate.. But to the well-bred and educated man and woman all this means trial and suffering, and ills a spectre of trial and 'suffering quite unknown to the inhabitants of a slum The decerving poor, the poor who get no sympathy, do not all live in slur.. The popular journalist can make no sensation articles on the lives of men who conceal their sufferings under decent black coats and nearly starve in dingy two-pair backs. The suffering is silent, it is not sulvertiwd, in the privacy of their poorly-furnished rooms, the tears may be bitter, the sighs heavy, but the world knows nothing of all that. The poor tradesman, ruined, perhaps, by no fault of his own—crushed by competing with huge capitalists—mho will set him on his lege again I A careful study of the annual statistics of suicides will chow that nmrly all the " mem " found are respectably dressed. The inhabitants of slums seldom commit suicide. The mom powerful incentives In suicide are shame, anxiety, and mental suffering. To enlier mentally one must have a mind; a large portion of the inhabitants of slums have no minde—they are animal, they grovel : they do not really wish to be clean, decent, or respectable, But the poor man, who has been decently reared, who hae come to poverty through family misfortune, who is willing to work but perhaps han no practical trade, though he may possess fair average abilities—how is be to get a living ? ft he will help him P There are hundreds awl hundreds of decentlyclad men about who are on the verge of starvation. They are intelligent, rmpectable; but they cennot find channels of occupation. They would willingly take any labour they could do to get a pound a week, and they know not ;where to look for it These are the deserving poor - none the leas deserving that they are " unseen " by the public eye. The want of food and comfort is not the most of their pain—they suffer hourly agonies of shame rmd wearing ens Words.  AN Istraomnu .Lacereax.—They then proceeded to the society's rooms, where in due tiime the audience assembled; and the committee haying at last entered and taken their places on the seats reserved for them, "Mr President arose from the centre of the group, and, putting on a prealdent's hat,' which so disfigured him that we could scarcely refrain from laughter, addressed the company in these words This evening Mr. Coleridge will deliver a lecture on The Growth of the Individual Mind.' " Coleridge at first "enemed startled," as well he might, and turning round to Mr. Gillman whispered, A pretty stiff subject they have chosen for roe:' However, he instantly mounted his standing place and began wit.ut hesitation, per. requesting his friend to observe the effect of his lecture on the audience. It was agreed that, should he appear to fail, Gillman was to "clasp his ankle; bot that he waste continue for an hour if the °molten. ances of his auditors indicated satisfaction.'' Coleridge then began his address in these words "The lecture 1 am about to give this evening is purely extempore. Should you find a nominative case looking out for a verb, art fatherless verb for a nominative case, you most excuse it. Ills purely extempore, though I have read and thooght much on the subtect.° At this the company smiled, which eeerned to inspire the lecturer with confidence. He plunged at once into his lecture, and most brilliant, eloquent, and logically consecutive it was. The time moved on no swiftly that Mr. Gillman found, on looking at hi, watch, that =hour rondo half had passed away, and, therefore, he continues, "waiting only a desirable moment—to use his own playful words —I prepared myeelf to punctuate his oration As previously agreed, I pressed his ankle, and thou gave him the hint , he had requested ; when, hawing graciously, and with a benevolent and smiling countenance, he presently descended. The lecture was quite new to me, and, I believe, quite new to himself, Bo far as the arrangement of his words was concerned. The floatiog thoughts were beautifully arranged, and delivered on the spar of the moment. What accident gave rise to the singular request that he should deliver this lecture Impromptu, I never learnt; nor did it signify, as it afforded a happy °everLenity to many of witneseing in part the extent of his reading and the extraordinary strength of his powers."— i "Coleridge," by H. D. Trod!. 1 How To 000 K