don for the use of the labouring classes. Why not, even independent of this fund, extend them? We would willingly see Committees formed for the purpose of carrying out this idea—the good work has already been inaugurated by the Mansion House Committee, with Lord Stanley at its head. There may be difficulties and obstacles in the way of effecting much good in the old broken-down malaria-breeding spots of the metropolis; but when new streets are being constructed, when new railways are uprooting these desperate neighbourhoods, these committees might be ready to construct by the side of them, on the ground thus cleared, fresh tenements especially for the poor. By this means we might hope to see that misery which now exists so rampantly in those parts of the metropolis, if not entirely dissipated, at least immeasurably mitigated. It is a work rather for the philanthropist than the speculator to carry out; but we can promise those who desire to do good, that they would be no losers—financially—by investing in an enterprise of this kind, if properly conducted.
Nor are we disposed to leave the matter here. “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.” To look upon the common objects of the earth, the trees, the fields, the grass, the shrubs, the flowers, the stones, the rocks, the streams, the sky and clouds, influences the lowest as well as the highest with kindred feelings. They enjoy in common, they appreciate in common, those gifts of Heaven, for the heart is invariably softened and ameliorated by communion with the direct creations of the hand of God—a tree, a blade of grass, a flower evokes sentiments of a far different kind and order to those produced by the sight of the most elegant mansion or the most stately building. In the one we see the imperfect conception, and the still more imperfect execution of man, in the other we trace the mind and witness the presence of that Omnipotence which orders the course of the planets and regulates the machinery of the universe. That Power is at work whether a sun is to be created, a comet launched upon its eccentric journey, a shrub to be reared, or a violet to be tinted. But how can those who are perpetually surrounded by dusty, begrimed, repulsive, darkened houses, to whom the sun only appears through a vapour of fog, who rarely see a patch of blue sky, and to whom the greenery of nature is familiar only by report—how can such rise above the grovelling accessories in which they dwell? How can they rise to the conception of things purer, nobler, holier? The imagination has nothing on which to fasten, and the consequence is that the mind sinks lower and lower until it is lost in hopeless depravity.
What we would advise, and what we feel is a debt society owes to these poor outcasts who have not the opportunities or the means of studying nature in the open country, is, that the number of gardens and ornamental grounds in the metropolis should be multiplied, and that every available plot in the centre of its densely-populated districts should at once be converted into places of recreation, and laid out in a tasty manner for the benefit of the poorer classes. It is true we have some noble parks: Hyde Park, Regent’s Park, St. James’s and Victoria Parks, constitute the lungs of London, and a boon to hundreds of thousands have they proved. There is, moreover, a strong desire manifested to create a new park somewhere in Finsbury, to meet the requirements of the people in the northern quarter. There are, again, our squares and crescents which boast of an area of verdure, but these are private inclosures; the feet of the poor know them not. What we would particularly see is more open places in the neighbourhood of Gray’s Inn Lane, in St. Giles’s, in the low parts of Clerkenwell, in Shoreditch, in Stepney and Bethnal Green, to say nothing of the Borough and Lambeth. Take, for example, the neighbourhood to which we have before alluded—that of Gray’s Inn. Why should not its debasing tenements be swept away, and spacious, lofty, comfortable houses erected in their stead, surrounded by green courts? By constructing them of a proportionate height a less ground area would be required, and the space thus gained might be planted with trees, like the boulevards of Paris. This would embellish London in the right direction. We know that even after all this has been accomplished there are moral difficulties to be overcome, and that it is no light matter to change the habits of that class which has been accustomed to inhabit the lowest slums. But we contend, nevertheless, that it is—and experience confirms our views—possible to effect a great change, and to improve the denizens of our courts and alleys by showing that we take an interest in their welfare, and by giving them houses of which they may justly be proud. The spirit of man is moulded by his surroundings, and if we want to elevate him we must encourage in him a taste for order, cleanliness, and sobriety. When we have effected this we shall have laid the foundations of better hopes in him. He will not be content to rest here. His aspirations will be after something better, higher, and nobler. Having housed him well, and placed within his reach the tasteful objects of nature, having created for him gardens and taught him to appreciate the handiwork of Creation—of a leaf or plant—we may be sure that we have improved his nature, and prepared the soil for a higher degree of culture.
London is daily increasing. This is, then, a grave consideration—so grave, indeed, as to lend weight to the suggestions we have thrown out. The Registrar-General, in his report lately published, made some sensible observations on this enormous overgrowth. “Whether London,” he remarks, “is equal to the task of providing, by new and improved arrangements, for this constant accumulation of human beings within its limits, remains to be determined by experience. When a family increases in its narrow lodging, in circumstances of dirt and squalor, that increase which should be its blessing becomes its bane, and at last fever destroys what slow disease may have spared; and in a state or city the growth of a population is not a strength to be trusted, but a weakness to be feared, if improvement in its physical and moral condition is not commensurate with its extension.” How in some measure this difficulty may be overcome we have attempted to point out above.
