The following, entitled Village Ethics, is taken from The National Review, Volume 14, October 1889, pages 279-282. Though the village is not named, it must be based upon Margaret Anne Curtois' experiences at Washingborough. At the time she would have been 34, and living at Washingborough Manor since the age of 21.


TO THE EDITORS OF THE "NATIONAL REVIEW"

GENTLEMEN,

If one of the many philanthropic workers for the benefit of the East of London were to allow himself a holiday in a distant village, his first sensation might be naturally a feeling of relief at having escaped to peace from misery. The wide-stretching fields that surround our English villages, the flowers, the fresh air, the cricket in the evenings, afford a contrast to London sights and sounds that can refresh the spirits almost as much as the sensation of waking in a Swiss valley to hear the tinkling of the cow-bells and the rush of the glacier stream. And yet, whatever may be the case with the Swiss valleys, the condition of even the best of our English villages leaves something to be desired.

It is strange how many of the problems of great cities repeat themselves in these Arcadias upon a smaller scale - the problems of intemperance and overcrowding, of insufficient education and lax morality. It is, unfortunately, still possible, even in a village, for a whole family - it is even possible for two families - to share one apartment at night; it is still probable that the village club meetings must be held in the public-house; it is still likely that in that pulic-house there will be no restraint upon intemperance, and that the staggering drunkard, when at last he starts for home, may even be provided with a bottle to help him on his way. The statistics of village evils and evil-doers would not, indeed, present us with such an appalling amoun=t of figures as that which overwhelms anyone who deals with London life, leaving him in much the condition of the child who finds that his slate is not big enough for his Long Division sum. But if the problems are on a smaller scale there is all the more reason for the problems to be grasped - although, speaking from experience and not theoretically, it is the lesser problems that are most often overlooked.

I have mentioned four causes of evil that may be found in villages: intemperance, overcrowding, insufficient education, and an inadequate code of morality. Let us give our attention to these for a few moments.

To begin with intemperance - that, at any rate, is an evil against which most vigorous efforts have been made; and, at this moment, temperance societies are plentiful in the land. But although these have accomplished a great a great and noble work, they have too often made use of means most intemperate; and, at any rate, their efforts are not such an absolute success as to preclude us from employing other means as well. I would then venture to suggest two single remedies - first, that policemen should be encouraged to pay more frequent visits to village public-houses, and more attention to those "drunk on the premises"; and, secondly, that every village should have a club and reading-rooms that is entirely distinct from the public house. "My husband has to go to the public-house to pay his club-money," a young wife said to me; "and when he is there he must do as other men do; he cannot leave at once." Whether he can or cannot may be a matter of dispute, but, at any rate, it is obvious that he must be under a temptation to remain.

Leaving, then, this great question, on which so many words have been said, let us turn to the subject of overcrowded houses - too frequent even in villages - although, perhaps, the cottage bed-room does not attain to the ideal of a family in each corner and one in the middle of the room. Without achieving that absolute economy of space, the cottage bed-room is wont to be full enough, so full that an uneasy feeling awakes sometimes in the breasts of the poor themselves. One mother will tell you that as her boy gets older she finds him "in the way"; another, that she is glad to have her daughter brought up away from home , because "she has only on bed-room, and all the rest are boys." But these anxious mothers are in the minority; the greater number are content to accept cheerfully such accomodation for themselves and their families as they can afford. And that accommodation is limited.

It would not be so limited if it were not for another evil, of which, ins pite of political economy, we are all too much accustomed to fight shy - the evil of over-population. In vain did John Stuart Mill courageously declare that excess in children was as much to be blamed as excess in anything else. The subject remains one which we dare not look in the face. And yet, until we have discovered some solution for that difficulty, until the question has been carefully and bravely considered by artisans, by labourers, by clergymen, by ladies, as well as by political economists, it seems almost in vain to expect universal improvement either in our towns or our villages. But on this difficult and dangerous subject we have no time to dwell.

Let us turn to the subject of the education of the poor, which may be considered one of the topics of the day, and remark first that those who are thankful for the benefits conferred by Board schools do not always remember how early that education ends. At twelve or fourteen the village boy becomes a man, and goes out to work and earn wages in the company of men, to free himslef rapidly from parental authority, and to forget as quickly as possible his spelling and arithmetic. Through all the years of his School Board education his parents have urged him to this period, and he has himself looked forward to it, and as soon as the strain of wage-earning work begins there will not be much left of him for lesson books. I once asked a boy, who had been a distinguished scholar, and who been kept at school longer that is possible for most village boys, to tell me anything he liked out of any book he had ever read. He could give no answer, except such as was contained in the statement, "I never read. I do not care for reading." The words were true of many other village boys besides himself. The Board schools, at best, can supply only a foundation, and, for the most part, a foundation that is not built upon.

Whilst then the desire for secular education is not great, and the means for satisfying it where it exists not often to be found - for villages do not often boast of night schools - how fares the religious instruction of the young? Of late there has much and vigorous comparing of the religious ignorance of the children of rich parents with the knowledge dispalyed by those of the poor, and it is possible that the comparison is just. The villages certainly can boast of their Sunday schools, conducted more unmethodically, it may be, than those of London, but at the same time with less noise, less crowding, less confusion, under more favourable conditions, in many respects, and, on the whole, with more chance of success. So far so good. But the eductaion of the Sunday school ends almost as soon as that of the Board school. What succeeds it? The village lads, turned out to work so early, and under little authority when they are not at work, are too often left without religious instruction to forget their Bible as they have forgotten their lesson books. In spite of the societies which are spreading through the land, Bible classes for young women are not universal in villages, and for young men stil more rare. At the most susceptible, most dangerous age, these young creatures are often left to guide themselves; the result is what may be expected. For to come to the last, most painful problem, the standard of morality in villages is low; it is not high enough to ensure purity of life. Every casue of evil of which I have been speaking already tends towards this, the greatest evil of all, and tends towards it inevitably - the temptations to intemperance, the over-crowded bed-rooms, the want of secular, the want of religious knowledge, the grinding, daily toil, and the consequent reaction towards forbidden pleasures. This matter should be dealt with directly and it is not; even those who preach and teach are afraid to speak of it, and, meanwhile, the pernicious priciple that marriage sanctifies all that occurs before it exists as a cause of ruin in village life. Only experience can make us aware of the laxity of moral feeling that is to be found amongst those who cliam to be respectable,but anyone who, as a village worker, has been compelled to look below the surface must be able to relate some startling instances. And thismatter is closely connected with the last we have considered - the base of religion is morlaity.

To conclude. The cry for more instruction, better knowledge, more means of pure amusement, continues to rise from villages as from cities, and those who have the welfare of humanity at heart should not look with scorn on the wants of village life. Whatever can be done in the way of clubs and libraries, of night schools and White Cross Armies, of meetings, and Bible classes, of cricket and football matches, should be sedulously encouraged; we know that it is in the empty house that the evil spirit enters. The lives of our rural, working population are so full of work, so patient, often so noble, that they demand some efforts from those who possess more time and means, and no such effort can be counted as thrown away on the most rough, secluded hamlet, by anyone who claims to be a member of that most inclusive of kingdoms - the Kingdom of Christ.

I am, Gentlemen,

Your obedient servant,

M. A. CURTOIS