has often to go without his when he has earned it, for a long while, sometimes altogether. And another thing, let me say here the respectable labourer does not grumble at his wages, or tell these wouldbe philanthropists that he is in distress and want. There are ever in every village some few idle good-for-nothings, who always have a tale of distress and misery on their tongues, are always ready to pour it into the ears of any one who will listen to them; and are willing to accept anything, so long as it will enable them for a few days to lie in idleness: but these are despised by their more proper feeling neighbours. It is such as these who give the impression of distress and poverty, and as long as these are helped there will be always a foundation for monster meetings, unmeaning speeches, and injudicious charity; there will always be idle vagabonds about the country. To give, then a few examples of the incomes of our village workmen; and I may add that the amounts are scrupulously correct, taken down, (though as regards the elder members of the families, they have been the same for years) but last month. We have first a family consisting of father and son :- £0 18 0 per week. acre of land, 6s. per annum; Rent, 9d. per week. £1 10 0 This family some years since consisted of father, mother, three sons, and one daughter. Their united earnings then amounted to— The mother of this family is now dead, the daughter married; the sons married and gone, with the exception of one, a widower, at home with his father. With these wages I fear they have put nothing by, and some day, perhaps, they will engage pity by telling a tale of destitution and misery. Take another. A family of father, mother, four sons, and four daughters. Here one son is married, and gone some time, two daughters at service, one married, one son married last month, and gone. At home House 1s. per week; Garden acre, 6s. per annum. £1 12 0 The two married sons each earned eleven shillings per week before they left home, one as gardener, the other as mason's man." a donkey to ride to his work upon. The next family on my list is purely agricultural. sons, and one daughter : The father here keeps Father, mother, three The mother here does not go out. In addition the shepherd gets some 40s. for harvest and lambing. The next family is small, there being but father, mother, one son, and one daughter, the latter married. The earnings of the father and son amount to 22s. a week, the wife does not go out, their rent is 9d. a week, a little more than a of an acre of land, 6s. a year. With one more I will close the statistical part of this paper. Father, wife, and two sons. Father, agricultural labourer Two sons, under fifteen, between them... House 9d.; Land, of an acre, 6s. £0 10 0 per week. 0 11 0 29 £1 1 0 The wife here does nothing, the sons are growing up, and will soon be earning as much as their father. The husband here gets really more than 10s. as he is factotum to one of the farmers, and gets many perquisites. Most, however, of this, I fear, and some of his wages, are spent in drink. The In all these families vegetables and their cost are synonymous with the allotment ground, and 6/ per annum rent for it. The corn gleaned in harvest-time is generally allowed to pay for the rent; and in addition, there is nearly always harvest money. children are not, as in a family of higher station, an extra expense; rather, on the other hand, the larger the family the better off they are, for they go to work at the first possible moment, and soon earn enough to pay their share towards the general housekeeping. So much is paid into the general stock weekly by each member of the family. The father usually takes the whole earnings of the younger members, and provides them with everything. Among the older, a certain sum is paid for food, the rest is kept by the individual earner himself. Yet from all this they do not manage to save a penny,-at best, but very few of them. A labourer in our village intimated to me this summer his intention of going to "St. Giles's Fair," at Oxford. I endeavoured to dissuade him, as I knew a couple of pounds would be the forfeit. "Yes," he said, "he dare say 'twould, but if he didn't spend it there, he should in summut else." "Why didn't he stay at home, and save the money ?" an inane laugh was all the response. I did, however, persuade him to go and see the Exhibition instead. B The present state of the poor law, no doubt, has much to do with this non-saving principle. I know it is the fashion to say, "the poor won't go into the house, ""won't take parish relief if they can help it." But this is all 'say;' a few of the better feeling ones will not, and they provide against it; all would object to it if they could help it, for home is much more comfortable than the workhouse; but in health they argue thus ;- "If I am out of work or ill, I come to you (the rate payers, really, the "Relieving Officer," nominally,) for support; if I am old and incapable, I go into the House; so I shall spend my wages now; you are bound to support me, if I can't support myself." The fact is, there is a harbour in the future; it is full of rocks, but yet it is a harbour, and they don't find the rocks out till they are amongst them, and it is only when the ship has struck, when it thinks it is taking refuge from the storm raging outside in the open sea, that it is sorry it did not look out for a rockless port, where the sea was smooth, and all was plain sailing; yet the next generation does not profit by the former one-no, nor ever will, so long as a harbour stares them full in the face, whilst the sea is calm, and the storm has not yet risen above the horizon. But the greatest proof that the labouring man can save is that some, and those not the best off, do save. But there are many obstacles in their way; their employers do not encourage them to save; the farmer would rather not have his workmen well off,—and then there is the public-house, with all its enormities and villanies, debasing and cheating, picking away the men's wages, injuring their health with vile and poisonous decoctions of anything but malt and hops; and then there are the travelling hawker and cheap Jack, whom these public-houses encourage, and lend them their stable-yards too, in which they may sell their goods; and last, though not least, there is the Poor Law, with its Workhouse, holding out its sheltering hand, and crying,-"Spend, spend now; be extravagant now; don't put by a penny of your wages, don't think for one moment for the future, for I will support you, I will take you in.' We cannot impress too much, on our poorer brethren, the necessity of saving; we cannot hold out to them too often the fact of there being Savings' Banks into which they may put their Savings. And we cannot be too eager to impress on others that the labourer can save and take care of himself, and that he is not the ill-used, ill-paid, low, wretched, good-for-nothing, miserable fellow, they the would-be philanthropists make him out to be. Little Element. Hush'd is that merry voice, Round the white forehead lie; He wanders 'mid the cloudless skies, In our dear Mother's arms He waved his little hand Mamma, he strove to say; While from his eye, so full and bright, A smile played round his lips, One fond and loving kiss, A soft and gentle sigh— Then the pure spirit winged its way "Twas when the Vesper bell Unto a fairer clime; To join the Seraph Choir above, Brief was his sojourn here, Eternal is his rest; The tender lamb is safe In the GOOD SHEPHERD's breast; The white Cross rises o'er his tomb, But Heaven is his spirit's home. SALOME. MEDITATIONS ON THE LIFE OF OUR LORD. (Translated from L'Evangile Médité of Duquesne.) FIFTH MEDITATION. The Magnificat. The Blessed Virgin, filled with the HOLY GHOST, replies to Elisabeth's inspired salutation in the words of the beautiful Canticle, which forms part of the daily office of the Church. In it she praises GOD. I. For what He had wrought in herself. II. For what He had wrought against the oppressors of His people. III. For the favours shown to His Church. FIRST POINT.-She praises GOD for what He had wrought in herself. 66 My soul," she exclaims, "doth magnify the Lord: and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For He hath regarded: the lowliness of His handmaiden. For behold, from henceforth: all generations shall call me blessed. For He that is mighty hath magnified me: and holy is His Name. And His mercy is on them that fear Him: throughout all generations." 66 These opening words of the Virgin's song express-1. Her feelings of gratitude. My soul," she says, "is lost in amazement; my heart is on fire with Divine Love; I am no longer my own, for the Lord fills all the capacities of my being. How great! how good is my God! He has loaded me with favours, the extent of which my tongue cannot express, nor my heart conceive. I was, above all, small, and of no reputation; yet upon me has He deigned to look: "He hath regarded the lowliness of His handmaiden.” Such is the utterance of the truly humble soul lost in a sense of God's mercies, and thus either to GOD or man will it endeavour to express its overwhelming feelings of love and devotion. May these sentiments of Mary ever be those of our hearts! When dazzled by the deceitful glitter of earthly greatness, let us say to ourselves, "My soul, let nothing be great in thy eyes but GOD; let Him alone be thy glory, let Him be the only object of thy admiration ;" or to the voice of pleasure let us answer, "There is no true joy, no lasting, no pure unalloyed pleasure, but in GOD; my mind shall not know, nor my heart desire any other;" and when the poisoned cup of flattery is offered us, let us deprive it of its venom by withdrawing ourselves into a sense of our own utter nothingness, and by the humiliating recollection of our sins, remembering that our only claim to GOD's regard is lowliness of heart. "For He hath regarded the lowliness of His handmaiden." |