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narrow a margin from destitution that a month of bad trade； sickness； or
unexpected loss brings them face to face with hunger and pauperism 。 。 。
But below this normal state of the average workman in town and country；
there is found the great band of destitute outcaststhe camp followers of
the army of industryat least one…tenth the whole proletarian population；
whose normal condition is one of sickening wretchedness。 If this is to be
the permanent arrangement of modern society； civilization must be held to
bring a curse on the great majority of mankind。
Ninety per cent。！ The figures are appalling； yet Mr。 Stopford
Brooke； after drawing a frightful London picture； finds himself compelled
to multiply it by half a million。 Here it is：…
I often used to meet； when I was curate at Kensington； families
drifting into London along the Hammersmith Road。 One day there came
along a labourer and his wife； his son and two daughters。 Their family
had lived for a long time on an estate in the country； and managed； with
the help of the common…land and their labour； to get on。 But the time
came when the common was encroached upon； and their labour was not
needed on the estate； and they were quietly turned out of their cottage。
Where should they go？ Of course to London； where work was thought to
be plentiful。 They had a little savings； and they thought they could get
two decent rooms to live in。 But the inexorable land question met them
in London。 They tried the decent courts for lodgings； and found that two
rooms would cost ten shillings a week。 Food was dear and bad； water
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was bad； and in a short time their health suffered。 Work was hard to get；
and its wage was so low that they were soon in debt。 They became more
ill and more despairing with the poisonous surroundings； the darkness； and
the long hours of work； and they were driven forth to seek a cheaper
lodging。 They found it in a court I knew wella hotbed of crime and
nameless horrors。 In this they got a single room at a cruel rent； and work
was more difficult for them to get now； as they came from a place of such
bad repute； and they fell into the hands of those who sweat the last drop
out of man and woman and child； for wages which are the food only of
despair。 And the darkness and the dirt； the bad food and the sickness； and
the want of water was worse than before； and the crowd and the
companionship of the court robbed them of the last shreds of self…respect。
The drink demon seized upon them。 Of course there was a public…house
at both ends of the court。 There they fled； one and all； for shelter； and
warmth； and society； and forgetfulness。 And they came out in deeper
debt； with inflamed senses and burning brains； and an unsatisfied craving
for drink they would do anything to satiate。 And in a few months the father
was in prison； the wife dying； the son a criminal； and the daughters on the
street。 MULTIPLY THIS BY HALF A MILLION； AND YOU WILL BE
BENEATH THE TRUTH。
No more dreary spectacle can be found on this earth than the whole
of the 〃awful East；〃 with its Whitechapel； Hoxton； Spitalfields； Bethnal
Green； and Wapping to the East India Docks。 The colour of life is grey
and drab。 Everything is helpless； hopeless； unrelieved； and dirty。 Bath
tubs are a thing totally unknown； as mythical as the ambrosia of the gods。
The people themselves are dirty； while any attempt at cleanliness becomes
howling farce； when it is not pitiful and tragic。 Strange； vagrant odours
come drifting along the greasy wind； and the rain； when it falls； is more
like grease than water from heaven。 The very cobblestones are scummed
with grease。
Here lives a population as dull and unimaginative as its long grey
miles of dingy brick。 Religion has virtually passed it by； and a gross and
stupid materialism reigns； fatal alike to the things of the spirit and the finer
instincts of life。
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It used to be the proud boast that every Englishman's home was his
castle。 But to…day it is an anachronism。 The Ghetto folk have no homes。
They do not know the significance and the sacredness of home life。 Even
the municipal dwellings； where live the better…class workers； are
overcrowded barracks。 They have no home life。 The very language
proves it。 The father returning from work asks his child in the street
where her mother is； and back the answer comes； 〃In the buildings。〃
A new race has sprung up； a street people。 They pass their lives at
work and in the streets。 They have dens and lairs into which to crawl for
sleeping purposes； and that is all。 One cannot travesty the word by
calling such dens and lairs 〃homes。〃 The traditional silent and reserved
Englishman has passed away。 The pavement folk are noisy； voluble；
high…strung； excitablewhen they are yet young。 As they grow older they
become steeped and stupefied in beer。 When they have nothing else to
do； they ruminate as a cow ruminates。 They are to be met with everywhere；
standing on curbs and corners； and staring into vacancy。 Watch one of
them。 He will stand there； motionless； for hours； and when you go away
you will leave him still staring into vacancy。 It is most absorbing。 He
has no money for beer； and his lair is only for sleeping purposes； so what
else remains for him to do？ He has already solved the mysteries of girl's
love； and wife's love； and child's love； and found them delusions and
shams； vain and fleeting as dew…drops； quick…vanishing before the
ferocious facts of life。
As I say； the young are high…strung； nervous； excitable； the middle…
aged are empty…headed； stolid； and stupid。 It is absurd to think for an
instant that they can compete with the workers of the New World。
Brutalised； degraded； and dull； the Ghetto folk will be unable to render
efficient service to England in the world struggle for industrial supremacy
which economists declare has already begun。 Neither as workers nor as
soldiers can they come up to the mark when England； in her need； calls
upon them； her forgotten ones； and if England be flung out of the world's
industrial orbit； they will perish like flies at the end of summer。 Or； with
England critically situated； and with them made desperate as wild beasts
are made desperate； they may become a menace and go 〃swelling〃 down
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to the West End to return the 〃slumming〃 the West End has done in the
East。 In which case； before rapid…fire guns and the modern machinery of
warfare； they will perish the more swiftly and easily。
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CHAPTER XXCOFFEE…
HOUSES AND DOSS…HOUSES
Another phrase gone glimmering； shorn of romance and tradition and
all that goes to make phrases worth keeping！ For me； henceforth；
〃coffee…house〃 will possess anything but an agreeable connotation。 Over
on the other side of the world； the mere mention of the word was sufficient
to conjure up whole crowds of its historic frequenters； and to send
trooping through my imagination endless groups of wits and dandies；
pamphleteers and bravos； and bohemians of Grub Street。
But here； on this side of the world； alas and alack； the very name is a
misnomer。 Coffee…house： a place where people drink coffee。 Not at all。
You cannot obtain coffee in such a place for love or money。 True； you
may call for coffee； and you will have brought you someth