A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER,

CUT BY G. CRUIKSHANK.

IN a small country town (not a hundred miles from London) as some
worthy gentlemen, magistrates and others, were proceeding to the Town
Hall upon county business, they observed a poor little boy lying against
the wall of the principal inn of the place (The Britannia). He had only
a few pieces of rag hanging about his wasted body, and altogether
looked very wretched and very dirty; but the dirt did not conceal
the painful expression and death-like paleness of his poor thin face; but
these worthy gentlemen were passing on, such objects and such sights of
destitution being quite common in that town. Had he been begging
or stealing, then the officers who accompanied these worthy gentlemen
would of course have taken him into custody and have brought him
before their worships at the Town Hall, to be dealt with according to
law in the one case, perhaps, or sent to the Union—in the other case,
of course sent to jail, or to trial. But as this poor boy was neither
begging nor stealing, and did not obstruct the pathway, he was allowed
to enjoy his liberty, and they, having, in fact, nothing to do with him,
were passing on, when one of them—a medical man, and a kind-hearted
man to boot (as all medical men are)—stopped the party, and told them
that the poor boy seemed to be seriously ill: upon which they all
gathered round the child, and, having aroused him, inquired very
kindly, what was the matter with him—if he was not well. Upon which
he stared wildly at the inquirers, and bursting into tears, replied in a
faint voice, “I want’s summut to eat!” “Ah!” said the doctor, feeling
the boy’s pulse, “the poor fellow is really sinking for want of food—
he’s famishing, dying of hunger!”

Now the worthy magistrates and the other gentleman—some of whom
were clergymen and ministers and lawyers—were all kind-hearted and
benevolent men as well as the doctor; and they all exclaimed, as
with one voice, upon hearing what the doctor said, “Oh dear me, how
very shocking!—let him have some food instantly!” “Yes, yes!”
cried one: “Here, officer! go into the ‘Britannia,’ and get him some-
thing to eat instantly.” “I suppose,” said he, turning to the doctor,
“a bit of plain bread and butter will be best for him in his present

A 2

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

condition?” “The very thing,” he replied; and as the officer was
about to run into the house to get a bit of bread and butter, another
gentleman of the party cried out, “Stop! see that you bring brown
bread.” “Pooh! pooh!” said another; “it does not matter what sort
of bread it is, but it must be toasted.” “White or brown, or plain
or toasted, it matters not much,” exclaimed a fourth, “provided there
is plenty of butter on it.” “I object most decidedly to the butter,”
observed a very sedate gentleman. “As to that,” shouted out another,
“I consider the butter as most essential; it is full of nourishment; and
besides, the poor boy might be choked by cramming dry bread down
his throat without butter: but then we must be careful that it be salt
butter.” “No! no!” cried another; “fresh butter if you please, and
as much as you please; but no salt.” “You are all wrong, my friends!—
quite wrong!” vociferated another of the party; “depend upon it that
dry toast is the best thing he can have.” “Oh! oh! oh! exclaimed all
the other gentleman; “Who ever heard of such a thing as giving dry
toast to a starving child?” “Who ever indeed!” chimed in another;
“it is quite ridiculous to toast the bread at all; the poor child might
die before it was ready! No! no! plain bread and butter is best for
him: but mind, if I have to pay my part towards it, the bread must be
new—yes, new bread.” “New bread!” exclaimed some of the party—
“why that’s worse than all; for if it does not stick in his throat, it will
in his stomach, and perhaps kill him. New bread is indigestible and
most unwholesome stuff.” “Well, well; let it be plain stale bread
and butter, but only the crumb of the loaf, and I will pay my part
willingly,” observed another. “Crumb without crust!” said one of the
former speakers: “why the crust of the loaf contains ten times more
nourishment than the crumb, and I, for one, will have nothing to do
with it, nor pay a farthing towards it, unless he has a good lump of
crust.”

Now during this contention, or

“— all this splutter
About the toast and bread and butter,”

the poor boy seemed to be getting worse and worse, and at the same
time all these worthy gentlemen becoming more and more excited;
some calling out for “Fancy bread,” some for “French rolls,” others
for “German black bread,” and all refusing to pay any part towards
the bread and butter, unless cut after their own fashion, when they were
reminded by one of the party that there was not the least necessity to
trouble themselves about paying for what the boy might have, as it
could be charged to the county. To which they all replied, rather
sharply, that, as to that, if they did not think it right to pay out of

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

their own individual pockets, neither did they think it right that the
public money should be used for purposes which they could not
individually approve of. “Gentlemen, gentlemen!” cried the doctor
“pray let the child have something. Is it not dreadful to let this poor
boy perish before our eyes, when there are the means of relief within
reach? For mercy’s sake let him have something to keep him alive!”
“Well,” replied one of the magistrates (who was chairman of the
sessions), “as you see he cannot have the bread and butter, you must
prescribe something else for him.” “Dear, dear me!” said the doctor,
“I am really shocked at such inconsistency. Will you let him have a
little brandy, then?” “Oh yes!” they all cried out together, “let him
have some brandy—by all means give him some brandy!” Upon which
Mr. Bull, the landlord of the “Britannia,” a very simple, good-natured
man, who had heard all the talk about the bread and butter without
paying much attention to their discourse—it being a question, indeed,
which he did not clearly comprehend—made his appearance at the door
with brandy bottle in hand, a glass of which was administered to the
boy, who took part of it at first in little sips, but swallowed the
remainder in gulps, after which he seemed to revive and stare about
him rather saucily; and the doctor, having placed him upon the steps
of the public-house door and advised him to go home and get something
to eat as soon as possible, followed after the other gentlemen, who had
gone to the Town Hall, considering the boy quite safe in the good
doctor’s hands.

Now it was well and kindly meant of the doctor to tell the boy to go
home and to get something to eat as soon as possible; but this poor boy,
like thousands of other boys of that class, had no home to go to, nor
money to buy any food, and such a state of things as this had not
occurred to the doctor, who was rather an absent man. But it seemed
indeed the fate of this poor boy that he should be the victim of neglect
or mistake, in some way or other.

Ragged Jack—the only name the boy was known by—was seated on
the door-step of the “Britannia” Inn, and, as he was in that position
neither useful nor ornamental, the landlord cried out, “Come, my
man! you had better go home, as the doctor told you, and get something
to eat;” and helping him on his legs, said, “There now! run away
home, that’s a good boy.”

Ragged Jack then staggered away from the public-house door, from
whence many a ragged Jack had staggered away before, and had not
gone far before he came to a baker’s shop; and as he still felt the pangs
of hunger, notwithstanding the dose of brandy, and recollecting the
doctor’s advice to get something to eat as soon as he could, and, having

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

no money to buy any bread, he thought it would be better to steal some
than to starve; so, emboldened by the brandy, he dashed into the shop,
and, snatching up a penny roll, made off with it as well as he could,
cramming the bread down his throat with such haste that he was
nearly choked. But the baker had witnessed the theft, and was after
poor Jack in an instant, whom he soon ran down and captured, and,
taking the half-eaten roll from Jack's hands, seizing him by the rags
that covered his shoulders and, calling him a young rascal and a thief,
literally *dragged* him to the Town Hall, where the magistrates were
sitting, and having handed him into the custody of a policeman, and
explaining the charge, that functionary at once took him before their
worships, who, upon seeing the boy reel when he entered the dock, and
lay hold of the rail to support himself, asked the policeman if he (that
is the boy) had been drinking ?* who returned the answer usually given
to this question:—That the prisoner had been drinking, but that he
knew very well what he was about. As if any body could know very
well what they were about when their brains were either muddled or
inflamed by strong drink. The officer also added that it was the same
boy his worship had seen by the side of the "Britannia." The baker's
evidence against Ragged Jack was clear and conclusive: he had seen
the boy take the roll and had caught him in the very act of eating it,
and even exhibited the part that was undevoured !

It was a case for "summary punishment," and Jack was sentenced to
a month's imprisonment and carried off to "the House of Correction"
forthwith. The chaplain of that establishment, who was present, and
who had been one of the party in the discussion about the bread and
butter, seemed much pleased when he found that Jack was committed,
and said, "Ah! I'll take good care that whilst the poor boy is in
prison he has plenty of good *bread and butter*." And so he had; poor
boy; for, immediately upon his arrival at the prison, he had some
proper wholesome food given to him: he was then placed in a nice
warm bath, and after that dressed in good clean clothes, his hair
trimmed and cleaned, and, by the orders of the medical officer, placed
in the "sick-ward," with everything necessary for his bodily health
and comfort, and waited upon and nursed by a nice, clean, good-natured,
motherly woman. Of course, when sufficiently recovered, he was put
to work; but then it was not "hard labour," and he had the advantages,
besides being clothed and fed, of being taught reading and writing and
arithmetic by a schoolmaster, trained in habits of regularity and

* When any one is charged with an assault, or any act of violence or brutality, it is a curious fact that almost the first question which the magistrate asks is, "Had the prisoner been *drinking*;" but never, that we ever heard of, have they asked if the prisoner had been *eating*.

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

cleanliness, and trained also in morals and religion, by the chaplain
who was the first to tell him that there is a GOD, and to teach him,
in one way at least, how to worship and adore that GOD. Yes, now
that Jack was a CONVICTED THIEF he had plenty of good whole-
some BREAD AND BUTTER !

But when the term of Jack's imprisonment was over, this supply of
bread and butter would have been stopped, and he would have been
dressed in his rags again and turned out to lead the same life of
wretchedness as before, had it not been for the kindness of the worthy
chaplain, who had taken care to provide some more bread and butter
for him in another establishment—not a *prison*, but a "REFORMATORY
SCHOOL." In this institution Jack received the same training in
cleanliness, morality and religion, as in the jail, and the same sort of
schooling, with kind treatment, comfortable clothing, &c. ; and, added
to all these, he was taught a trade, so that when he went out into the
world he might be a *decent* and a *useful* member of society. In the
reformatory, as well as in the jail, he had plenty of good BREAD AND
BUTTER; and (strange as it may appear) he had rendered himself
eligible as a pupil to this institution, and received all these advantages,
because he had been a CONVICTED THIEF !

But with all the advantages of education, moral and religious training,
which had been bestowed upon Jack, there was one great drawback or
disadvantage; which was, that no one who knew that he had been a
convicted thief would hire him for a servant, or even employ him. The
consequence was, that, as he now knew a trade, his kind reformatory
friends gave him a basket of tools, and advised him to go into another
part of the country to seek employment, which he did. But on the
morning of his departure, as he was trudging along the street with a
basket containing his work-tools, a change of linen, &c., he met a cousin
of his—one Tom Rag, a boy as ragged and as wretched as he used to
be himself—who was pleased to see his old play-fellow look so well, and
inquired how he had managed to get such nice clothes, and what he
had got in his basket. Upon which Jack told him all that had been so
kindly done for him whilst in the prison and the reformatory. "O!"
said Tom Rag, "I am taught morals, and to read and write and cast
accounts, at the 'Ragged School'; and on Sunday I go to the 'Ragged
Church,' where I am taught religion, and all that. But then I want
to be clothed and fed, and have a comfortable place to live in, and to
be taught a trade as you are: so do Jack tell me how I am to get all
that 'ere."

Cousin Jack, who had been taught, and, indeed, now knew, that
thieving was a wicked thing to do, was sorely puzzled how to advise

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his friend in this matter; for, having a great regard for Tommy, he
wished to save him from the miserable state in which he himself had

once been—skulking and wandering about the streets all day, picking
up bits and scraps of food, even out of the gutters like the dogs, and at
night sleeping in the corner, perhaps, of an open sheep-pen in the
cattle-market,* or crouching from the drenching rain by the side of a
doorway; and when he contrasted that state of his existence with the
comfort he had felt and the attention he had received whilst in the
jail and the reformatory, he knew not how to advise his poor cousin,
knowing that poor Tom was, as he himself had been, almost perishing
for want of a little good wholesome bread and butter, clean clothes,
and a comfortable bed to lie in, which he well knew poor Tom would
have if he could be sent to jail, as he had been. When he thought
of all this he was sorely puzzled what to recommend; but at last he
said: "Tom, you must not steal; so you had better go a begging, and
perhaps you may be lucky enough to be sent to jail for that, and then
you will have everything done for you as I have had, and come out
better than me; for nobody will be able to say that you have been a
thief. Yes; go and beg, Tom! But if this don't answer, why, then, I
suppose you *must* go a THIEVING, as I did."

It may be asked, Where were the parents of these poor boys all this
time? Well, they could tell you at the "Britannia" public-house,
only they don't like to talk about such disagreeable matters there. But

* Fact.

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

the fact is, Jack's father used to *use* that house, and was once a decent
sort of man, and was at one time a "moderate drinker;" but upon one
occasion he got mad drunk, and in that state of drunken insanity went
home and killed his wife, was sent to jail, and died there. Tom's
father was transported for committing some crime after he had "been
drinking" at the "Britannia;" and Tom's mother took a little drop
at first to *comfort her*, and then drank herself to death.

All persons, except Teetotallers, train up their children to take strong
drink, with the mistaken notion that it does them good, and thus, unin-
tentionally sometimes, lay the foundation of their children's ruin and
destruction. "To train up a child in the way he *should* go" is a most
wise and important piece of advice, and means of course that the child
should be brought up to do that which *is right*, and this advice is
followed and is carried out extensively in all civilized countries, it is
true; but a large proportion of the common people (of this country at
least) train up their children to go to the gin-shop and the beer-shop,
either by taking them with them when they go to get their drink or
their dram, when they invariably give them a taste, a glass, or a pot to
drain; or sending them to fetch the liquor, and then the children are sure
to take a *lick* as they go along. Yes, these poor young creatures are
*trained up* to the habit of drinking intoxicating liquor, and "when
they grow old they *seldom* depart from it." And what are the conse-
quences of this training? Why, a large amount of excessive drinking,
and also a vast amount of drunkenness. And what is the effect of these?
Ignorance, poverty, pauperism, immorality, dirty habits, wretchedness
and misery of every description, ruin, degradation, brutality, crime,
blasphemy, bloodshed and murder! And what are the effects upon the
offspring of a class of persons of such habits (habits, recollect, produced
*almost entirely* by the use of intoxicating drink)—in what condition,
then, morally and physically, are the children of such an impure portion
of the population? In the first place, passing over the many, very
many, infants who die for the want of proper and natural care; and
taking those who do live through their dirty dismal infancy, and are
able to "run alone,"—why, entirely neglected by their drinking parents,
these children are allowed to "run wild," and are consequently as
"ignorant as horses" and as "ragged as colts;" bred, born, and
brought up in dirt, and trained in immoral habits, without even hearing
the name of God, unless connected with some horrible and blasphemous
oath. This wretched, neglected, starving, begging, thieving, juvenile
part of the population, many of whom are orphans, are brought up to
this horrible state of destitution—recollect, *almost entirely*, through the
*use* of intoxicating liquors by their parents. But it must not be sup-

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

posed that all the wretched and ragged children spring from the lowest
condition of society. Families of various grades of comfort and respect-
ability are brought *down* to the *lowest level*, disgraced, ruined and
made wretched, entirely from the use of intoxicating liquor, and thus
from various sources the *supply* of ragged children for the ragged
schools, and juvenile offenders for the jails and the reformatories; and
thus as fast, or indeed at a greater rate, than secular teaching, with moral
and religious training, can raise a portion of these poor creatures from
their miserable and deplorable state of mind and body, and place them
in a more healthy condition, fresh pupils are provided for these
institutions, by the liquors prepared by the brewer and the distiller,
and dispensed at the beer-shop and the gin-palace.

The Earl of Shaftesbury has lately condemned in strong terms—
and very justly so—the trade carried on in opium by the East India
Company and other merchants, which all those parties are aware is
*smuggled* into China in violation of the laws of that country, and
despite the efforts of its government to prevent this illicit trade. It is,
indeed, disgraceful and dishonorable, either for the *Honourable* East
India Company, or any man or set of men, holding high stations, as far
as wealth and character go, to be making a profit out of a trade which
produces wretchedness, disease, premature decay and death, amongst
any people, however low they may be in the social scale. But, bad as
this may be, and miserable as are the consequences arising from the use
and indulgence of this poisonous and pernicious drug, yet the evils
created from this source in China are not attended with such horrible
results as those which come from the use of the poison—ALCOHOL—
in our own country. Yet there are men here—gentlemen, who, in
fact, form part of our aristocracy—men rolling in wealth and luxury,
holding up their heads with the highest, and some of them forming
part of our legislative body—respectable merchants and traders, deriving
large incomes and making princely fortunes from the profits on the
manufacture and sale of a liquor which, even in small quantities, is
proved to be injurious to the human system; but which, if indulged
in, produces that temporary insanity called intoxication, and which
causes nearly all our poverty and wretchedness, and is, in fact, the
principal cause of the commission of every species of criminality and
the blackest and foulest deeds that human beings can, with ignorant
and maddened brains, possibly commit.

A great outcry has been made of late about the "Ticket of leave"
men, and the very large number of our criminal population (!); and it
is a serious consideration what is to be done with the convicts, and
where they are to be sent to. Now every one will allow that it would

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be a most excellent thing if we could reduce the number of our
criminals; but, however desirable this might be, the question is, How is
such a change to be effected? The Earl of Albemarle has stated, at a
public meeting in Norfolk, upon the authority of the judges, that nine-
tenths of the crimes committed in this country owe their origin to the
use of intoxicating liquor. If that be the case, you have only to stop
the use of intoxicating liquor, and, according to this showing, to stop
the commission of crime—at any rate, a large proportion of it. Yes;
only shut up the beer-shops and the gin-shops, and you may then shut
up your prisons. I say this with confidence, because it was found that in
the State of Maine, when the "Maine Liquor Law" was in full operation,
not only was the workhouse cleared of all those that *could* work, but the
jail, in some of the counties, which used to be always over-crowded,
was empty, and advertised To BE LET! and so it would be here, in this
country, if we had such a law. Then, again, many excellent men have
been trying to do away with the punishment of death for criminal
offences. In this matter you have only to stop the use of intoxicating
drinks and the gibbet would fall to the earth,—crumble with the DRY
rot for want of use. And why? because almost every deadly crime
committed in this country is mixed up, more or less, with this accursed
intoxicating drink.

One of the great social questions of the day is the necessity and im-
portance of a general or national system of Education for the humble
classes, upon such a comprehensive plan as shall give every child born
in the United Kingdom a certain amount of book knowledge, and also
of moral and religious training, as they are, or *ought* to be, entitled
to as juvenile members of a civilised community—such training as may
prepare them to fill useful and honest positions in life, or, perhaps, be
the first step to those high stations so often filled by honest, hardwork-
ing, mercantile men, or ingenious mechanics. Now every thinking and
right-minded person will agree that this object is a most desirable one,
and that no innocent child should be so neglected as to be allowed to
grow up in a state of savage ignorance; and at the first blush nothing
seems more easily to be accomplished, in a wealthy and intelligent
country like ours, than to arrange such a general system as is here
alluded to, and to provide the ways and means. Well! all this *would*
be simple and easily accomplished, but for one obstacle, namely—the
differences in the religious opinions of a portion of the adult population.
Yes, strange as it may appear—nay, monstrous as it is—nevertheless
these religious differences have been, and are now, the only bar to the
adoption of any wide and general system of secular education.

It is of course impossible to please all parties; but few persons, I

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imagine, could surely object to a national system of Education upon
the following plan:—In the first place, an act of Parliament should
be passed, compelling all those parents who can afford to pay for the
schooling of their offspring to do so, and where they are not able to
pay the whole, to contribute as much as their means will allow, and
where the parents are destitute or depraved, then that the State shall
take the position of the parents, and educate and train up all the
neglected and helpless children. In the second place:—In the schools,
let reading, writing and arithmatic be taught (with other branches of
education, if possible, or required), and such moral training as will
teach a child the difference between RIGHT and WRONG—and here let
the schoolmaster's duty cease, and that of the minister of religion begin.
And in the third place: Let it be the duty of the clergymen, and
ministers of all denominations, to instruct all those children that belong
to their particular church, chapel or sect, in those forms, ceremonies,
doctrines and tenets, peculiar to the religious opinions of the parents;
and, where the parents profess or follow no religion, then that the clergy
of the Established Church be allowed to bring up all such children in
the religion of the State. Now, by this mode, it appears to me that if
all the poor helpless children of the land were schooled in the common
elements of reading, writing, &c., for five days in the week, and the
clergy and ministers of all denominations were compelled to instruct
these children one day in the six, in the religion of the class to which
they belong (independent of the Sunday), that then all parties might
be satisfied, and every objection done away with as to the great general
system here proposed for secular instruction and moral and religious
training.

I may here be told that there are schools and institutions where the
young of both sexes are instructed in useful knowledge, morally trained,
and taught some trade or calling, and where begging or stealing are not
necessary qualifications for admission. I grant that there may be such
places, but that does not alter the fact that neglected children, clothed
in filthy rags, supply scholars to the "Ragged School," and young
thieves the pupils to the "Reformatory." A reformatory may be wanted
in any country, under any circumstances, but why should we have
*Ragged* Schools in RICH ENGLAND? A German newspaper, not very
long since, had a paragraph headed "A man starved to death in
London!" in RICH ENGLAND! and the editor seemed thoroughly
astonished that such a circumstance should occur in a country of such
immense wealth, and there is certainly no real reason why such a
shocking thing should *occur* in this country, where there is probably
as much food destroyed and wasted every day in London as would

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feed thousands of persons; but although, as I have said, some sort of
reformatory, even in the highest state of civilized society, may be
required, why should we have such a thing as a *Ragged School* in *rich*
*England* ?—in a country where the *ALMIGHTY*, in his beneficence, has
given enough, and to spare, for every one !

I am not saying that Ragged Schools are not wanted now, in the
present state of society,—no, no: there is unfortunately a strong
necessity for them at the present time; and whenever there is an evil, of
course there should be a remedy. I have had the honour of presiding
at Ragged School meetings myself, and of advocating their support
and extension, and would do so still whilst poor children remain
miserable, ignorant, and neglected; and I have, upon these occasions,
always shown what I consider a radical cure for such a state of
destitution. I have also the honour of knowing and honouring some of
the chief supporters of these institutions; and I do all I can in my
humble way to assist such good men for such good purposes; indeed
it is quite right that there should be these schools and reformatories—it
is indeed one of the first duties of a civilised people to provide a refuge
for the destitute; no doubt there should be some place provided for
the reception of the erring and the repentant, where they may receive
help and comfort, and where their good resolves may be cherished and
strengthened; no doubt but that it is quite right that there should
be a place of shelter for those who may have offended against the laws
of man, and a chance of leading, in future, an honest life. Nay, it is
the duty of a civilised community to do all this; and, under the blessing
of God, well and nobly do the people of this country perform this duty,—
all honor to them for so doing,—all honor to the nobility of this land,—
all honour to the wealthy, the middle and the humbler classes, all
exemplary in their degree and station, from our good and gracious
QUEEN down to the poor widow who gives her "mite,"—all honor to
those who so generously and bountifully bestow their means in so many
excellent and needful charities; it is a good work, and it is well and
nobly done! But excellent as all these remedies for our social evils
may be—excellent as it is to provide hospitals for the reception of
those who meet with accidents, it is, nevertheless, better to prevent
accidents happening than to provide a cure for them; so it is better, or
indeed, it is the paramount duty of a civilised people to PREVENT THE
COMMISSION OF EVIL, to PREVENT poor children from falling into that
dreadful state of ragged wretchedness and criminality which unhappily
prevails to such a fearful extent at present. It may here be said that
almost every thing is being done that ingenuity, toil and benevolence,
can suggest or accomplish:—true, a great deal is being done, but not

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all; for whilst even a small number of poor dear helpless children are
left uncared for or unprovided for, so long is the work imperfect.
And unhappily we find that there are, even in spite of all that is being
done, still an immense number in this forlorn condition; for, upon the
authority of that noble and indefatigable worker in all good works, the
Earl of Shaftesbury, we find that there are, at this time, about twenty-
two thousand neglected, ragged children, wandering about like the wild
Bedouins of the desert! At a late ragged school meeting, thanksgivings
were offered up to the Almighty for the present prosperity of the
ragged schools, and also for the great moral good effected by these
institutions. In this thanksgiving I most heartily join, and rejoice at
the amount of success; but I put it to all those worthy persons who
are engaged in this good work, and who thus express their feelings of
gratitude, whether it would not be still better that they should be able
to thank GOD that ragged schools were not required at all, and that
there was very little need of reformatories. And if you were to do away
with the use of strong drink there would be no need of them. And I
would ask the supporters of the institution in question, to reflect upon
the consequences of this ragged and reformatory training. Why, if it
goes on continually, a large proportion of our population will be com-
posed of persons of both sexes—British men and women—who, if moving
in a respectable station, will have the ragged or reformatory stigma the
blot upon them for life; and their children—who will be pretty sure
to hear of it—will either feel the degradation, or have the reproach
cast against them, that their parents were of the most beggarly and
even suspicious origin; and they may well ask, Was my father a thief,
that he was brought up at a reformatory? and what was my mother,
that she was educated at a ragged school? How should we like this
ourselves?

In conclusion, I ask if it does not appear to be a matter almost
amounting to criminality, but surely entailing a fearful responsibility,
upon all those who oppose a general system of teaching and training,
and thus allowing innocent children to grow up in ignorance and crime,
—to starve, in fact, for want of food, of which there is plenty,—because
they, the grown-up people, cannot agree upon the mode of cutting a
SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

Education has done, and is doing, a very large amount of good; but
it will never entirely put a stop to the intemperate habits or drunkenness
of a large mass of the population—a habit, which “*The Times*” has
designated as “the curse of the country.” In proof of this, witness the
immense mass of common people who unfortunately suffer from the use
of strong drink, and also the number of the most highly educated,

A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.

intellectual, and well-trained persons—nay, even ministers of religion
—who are constantly falling victims to these intoxicating drinks, which
are blindly looked upon, generally, as a blessing, if taken in mode-
ration. But let those good folks who say this, consider for a moment
from whence comes the *supply* of drunkards. There are at least thirty
or forty thousand drunkards, dying as drunkards every year in this
country, whose places are filled up from the class of “*moderate drinkers*.”
This has always been the case, and must continue so, from the very
nature of the material in use. Some very clever moderate drinkers
assert that those people only get drunk who take *too much*. This is
certainly a most wonderful discovery, and an incontrovertible fact; for
they may defy the whole world to prove that any one ever got drunk by
taking *too little!* But, even supposing that education would ultimately
form a very moderate drinking population: before such a desirable state
of things could be established, at the rate that education is now going
on, millions of our fellow-creatures must suffer every sort of misery,
and hundreds of thousands would be maimed and many thousands
murdered!

Educate! Educate! Educate! by all means: but there is something
more required than reading, writing, and arithmetic; indeed, the pre-
sent age may be characterised as one of reading and writing rascality.
The rascal Redpath could read and write, and, unfortunately, “cast
accounts;” the rascal Robson was also an accountant, and could read
and write; Mr. J. W. “Bubble” Howell, unfortunately for me, could
write and read and deliver lectures, the subject of one of which, was,
“Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath?”! What good he may have
done on the sabbath I know not; but this I know—that he did a great
deal of dishonest mischief on the week-days. Indeed, the rascality in
the present day of men who can read and write, is truly alarming, from
men holding something like a station in society, down to the hireling
who robs his employer. However, these are no arguments against a
general system of education, with moral and religious training; for if
this did nothing else, it would decrease the amount of savage brutality
which is now found to predominate amongst the ignorant and vulgar
when under the influence of drink. The fact is, that the use of wine,
beer, and spirits, is at the root, in some way or other, of most, if not all
our social evils, and until the use of these intoxicating drinks is done
away with, all reforms are but so much patchwork; very pretty patch-
work no doubt; nay, some of it very beautiful patchwork; but still
nothing but patchwork after all.

Finally, I would say by all means educate ALL the people in some
way or other. But as prevention *is* better than cure, I call upon all those