590 England at the Close of \ 831 , CI>kc, 



French factory, in the German mine, or in the Swies worksliop, as 

 readily as within the limits of our land j and thus divested of our ex- 

 chisive ally, we have to encounter an enemy unencumbered with the 

 weight of taxes which presses down even the colossal frame of England. 



The question is, can labour be pressed further ? Can the Avorkman 

 subsist on less — can he make more diligent exertion ? We think 

 not ; and that if he could, he ought not to be suffered to make it. No 

 man should be suffered to commit this suicide. But, what if the world 

 is already glutted with our manufactures ? And this seems to be the 

 case. The Continent, the New World, the British Colonies, and Set- 

 tlements in the East, are already overwhelmed with the labour of our 

 looms ; and not a year passes in which they will not be advancing in the 

 experiment of providing for themselves. What then must be the fate 

 of the immense capital invested in manufactures, if the multitude of 

 leading merchants who live by their transit through the world ; of (still 

 more important consideration) the three millions of human beings, who 

 are actually engaged in the handicraft of these products ? The prospect 

 is momentous. We only hope that the consequence is not inevitable ; 

 that some of those signal interpositions, which from time to time baffle 

 all conjecture, and shew man that there are secrets in heaven and earth 

 beyond his philosophy, ma)'^ start up between us and the evil, which 

 seems to be hourly distending and advancing upon our eyes. The only 

 remedy adequate to this gigantic menace, is one which the passions and 

 short-sightedness of men will forbid to be adopted. England will 

 not give up her fatal determination to be the workshop of the world. 

 She will not submit to the national disgrace of ceasing to sell cheaper 

 muslins, buttons, and pen-knives than any dealer on the globe ; or to the 

 public crime of turning out of smoky dungeons, confined cellars, and 

 tlie eternal hazards of all foul and fatal effluvia, some millions of young 

 men and women to make their bread in the labours of the field ; to aban- 

 don steam-engines for " arable and tilth ;" pestiferous hovels for hay- 

 making and autumn crops ; distortion, vice, and death, for beauty, in- 

 nocence, freshness, and animation. Yet this must be done; or England 

 throughout its whole frame threatens some tremendous change. 



The necessities of the French Revolution were shadows to the reality 

 of evil, born of the actual right of millions to have bread, which we 

 have not to give. France was thrown into fury because the nobles 

 were an exclusive class, and the church and military preferments were 

 chiefly distributed among them. This was three-fourths hurt vanity. 

 But in the worst times of France she could feed all her people, and the 

 French cottager was a happier man, and in all true worth, a wealthier 

 man than the English artizan. We have already reached the maxivmm 

 of labour. We have already nearly reached the lowest point of price. If 

 we could lower it still, we have reached nearly the maximum of the pole ; 

 for every corner of the world is piled with our goods. The popular 

 remedies applied already, are the breaking of machines, and the burning 

 of every thing that abridges labour. But we all know how desperately 

 those habits must aggravate the evil, and how naturally they lead to 

 robbery and assassination. The loom-burner will never be a workman, 

 nor capable of being trusted again. 



The oratorical remedy is decrease of taxation. But every man of 

 common sense knows that taxation is at this hour reduced almost to the 

 lowest point of the scale. All kinds of administrations have been tried 

 on this head. But whether Whig or Tory, the declaration has finally 

 been the same : " Taxation is reduced to its lowest point." It is ti-ue 



