The Project Gutenberg EBook of Darkest India, by Commissioner Booth-Tucker This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Darkest India A Supplement to General Booth's "In Darkest England, and the Way Out" Author: Commissioner Booth-Tucker Release Date: March 6, 2004 [EBook #11468] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DARKEST INDIA *** Produced by Dave Maddock and PG Distributed Proofreaders [Transcriber's note: The spelling irregularities of the original have been preserved in this etext.] DARKEST INDIA BY COMMISSIONER BOOTH-TUCKER A SUPPLEMENT TO GENERAL BOOTH'S "IN DARKEST ENGLAND, AND THE WAY OUT." 1891 PREFACE. The remarkable reception accorded to General Booth's "In Darkest England and the Way Out," makes it hardly necessary for me to apologise for the publication of the following pages, which are intended solely as an introduction to that fascinating book, and in order to point out to Indian readers that if a "cabhorse charter" is both desirable and practicable for England (see page 19, Darkest England) a "bullock charter" is no less urgently needed for India. In doing this it is true that certain modifications and adaptations in detail will require to be made. But the more carefully I consider the matter, the more convinced do I become, that these will be of an unimportant character and that the gospel of social salvation, which has so electrified all classes in England, can be adopted in this country almost as it stands. After all, this is no new gospel, but simply a resurrection, or resuscitation, of a too much neglected aspect of the original message of "peace on earth, good will towards men," proclaimed at Bethlehem. It has been the glory of Christianity, that it has in all ages and climes acknowledged the universal brotherhood of man, and sought to relieve the temporal as well as the spiritual needs of the masses. Of late years that glory has in some degree departed, or at least been tarnished, not because the efforts put forth are less than those in any previous generation, but because the need is so far greater, that what would have been amply sufficient a few centuries ago, is altogether inadequate when compared to the present great necessity. The very magnitude of the problem has struck despair into the hearts of would-be reformers, many of whom have leapt to the conclusion, that nothing but an entire reconstruction of society could cope with so vast an evil, whilst others have been satisfied with simply putting off the reckoning day and suppressing the simmering volcano on the edge of which, they dwelt with paper edicts which its first fierce eruption is destined to consume. Surely the present plan if at all feasible, is God-inspired, and if God-inspired, it will be certainly feasible. And surely of all countries under the face of the sun there is none which more urgently needs the proclamation of some such Gospel of Hope than does India. That it is both needed and feasible I trust that in the following pages I shall be able to abundantly prove. General Booth has uttered a trumpet-call, the echoes of which will be reverberated through the entire world. The destitute masses, whom he has in his book so vividly pourtrayed, are everywhere to be found. And I believe I speak truly when I say that in no country is their existence more palpable, their number more numerous, their misery more aggravated, their situation more critical, desperate and devoid of any gleam of hope to relieve their darkness of despair, than in India. And yet perhaps in no country is there so promising a sphere for the inauguration of General Booth's plan of campaign. Religious by instinct, obedient to discipline, skilled in handicrafts, inured to hardship, and accustomed to support life on the scantiest conceivable pittance, we cannot imagine a more fitting object for our pity, nor a more encouraging one for our effort, than the members of India's "submerged tenth." Leaving to the care of existing agencies those whose bodies are diseased, General Booth's scheme seeks to fling the mantle of brotherhood around the morally sick, the destitute and the despairing. It seeks to throw the bridge of love and hope across the growing bottomless abyss in which are struggling twenty-six millions of our fellow men, whose sin is their misfortune and whose poverty is their crime, who are graphically said to have been "damned into the world, rather than born into it." The question is a national one. This is no time therefore for party or sectarian feeling to be allowed to influence our minds. True for ourselves we still believe as fully as ever that the salvation of Jesus Christ is the one great panacea for all the sins and miseries of mankind. True we are still convinced that to merely improve a man's circumstances without changing the man himself will be largely labor spent in vain. True we believe in a hell and in a Heaven, and that it is our ultimate object to save each individual whom we can influence out of the one into the other. True that among the readers of the following pages will be those whose religious creed differs from our's as widely as does the North Pole from the South. But about these matters let us agree for the present to differ. Let us unite with hand and heart to launch forthwith the social life boat, and let us commit it to the waves, which are every moment engulfing the human wrecks with which our shores are lined. When the tempest has ceased to rage, and when the last dripping mariner has been safely landed we can, if we wish, with a peaceful conscience dissolve our partnership and renew the discussion of the minor differences, which divide, distract and weaken the human race, but _not till then._ CONTENTS. PART I. IN DARKEST INDIA. I. Why "Darkest India?" II. Who are not the Submerged Tenth? III. The minimum standard of existence IV. Who are the Submerged Tenth? V. The Beggars VI. "The Out of Works" VII. The Homeless Poor VIII. The Land of Debt IX. The Land of Famine X. The Land of Pestilence XI. The White Ants of Indian Society (a) The Drunkard (b) The Opium Slave (c) The Prostitute XII. The Criminals XIII. On the Border Land XIV. Elements of Hope PART II. THE WAY OUT. I. The Essentials to success II. What is General Booth's scheme? III. The City Colony IV. The Labour Bureau V. Food for all--the Food Depots VI. Work for all, or the Labour Yard VII. Shelter for all, or the Housing of the Destitute VIII. The Beggars Brigade IX. The Prison Gate Brigade X. The Drunkards Brigade XI. The Rescue Homes for the Fallen XII. "The Country Colony"--"Wasteward ho!" XIII. The Suburban Farm The Dairy The Market Garden XIV. The Industrial Village XV. The Social Territory, or Poor Man's Paradise XVI. The Social City of Refuge XVII. Supplementary Branches of the Country Colony Public Works Off to the Tea Gardens Land along the Railways Improved methods of Agriculture XVIII. The Over-sea Colony XIX. Miscellaneous Agencies The Intelligence Department The Poor Man's Lawyer The Inquiry Office for missing Friends The Matrimonial Bureau The Emigration Bureau Periodical Melas XX. How much will it Cost? XXI. A Practical conclusion PART I.--IN DARKEST INDIA. CHAPTER I. WHY "DARKEST INDIA?" It is unnecessary for me to recapitulate the parallel drawn by General Booth between the sombre, impenetrable and never-ending forest, discovered by Stanley in the heart of Africa, and the more fearfully tangled mass of human corruption to be found in England. Neither the existence, nor the extent, of the latter have been called in question, and in reckoning the submerged at one tenth of the entire population it is generally admitted that their numbers have been understated rather than otherwise. Supposing that a similar percentage be allowed for India, we are face to face with the awful fact that the "submerged tenth" consists of no less than _twenty-six millions of human beings_, who are in a state of destitution bordering upon absolute starvation! No less an authority than Sir William Hunter has estimated their numbers at fifty millions, and practically his testimony remains unimpeached. Indeed I have heard it confidently stated by those who are in a good position to form a judgement, that at least one hundred millions of the population of India scarcely ever know from year's end to year's end what it is to have a satisfying meal, and that it is the rule and not the exception for them to retire to rest night after night hungry and faint for want of sufficient and suitable food. I am not going, however to argue in favor of so enormous a percentage of destitution. I would rather believe, at any rate for the time being, that such an estimate is considerably exaggerated. Yet do what we will, it is impossible for any one who has lived in such close and constant contact with the poor, as we have been doing for the last eight or nine years, to blink the fact, that destitution of a most painful character exists, to a very serious extent, even when harvests are favorable and the country is not desolated by the scourge of famine. Nor do I think that there would be much difficulty in proving that this submerged mass constitutes at least one-tenth of the entire population. No effort has hitherto been made to gauge their numbers, so that it is impossible to speak with accuracy, and the best that we can do is, to form the nearest feasible estimate from the various facts which lie to hand and which are universally admitted. Let any one who is tempted to doubt the literal truth of what I say, or to think that the picture is overdrawn, but place himself at our disposal for a few days, or weeks, and we will undertake to show him, and that in districts which are as the very Paradise of India, thousands of cases of chronic destitution (especially at certain seasons in the year) such as ought to be sufficient to melt even a heart of stone! CHAPTER II. WHO ARE NOT THE SUBMERGED TENTH? Before passing on to consider of whom the destitute classes actually consist, it will be well in a country like India to make a few preliminary remarks regarding the numbers and position of their more fortunate countrymen who have employment of some sort, and are therefore excluded from the category. The entire population of British India, including Ceylon, Burmah, and the Native States amounts according to the Census of 1881 to about two hundred and sixty-four millions. These I would divide into five classes-- 1st--The wealth and aristocracy of the country consisting of those who enjoy a monthly income of one hundred rupees and upwards per family. According to the most sanguine estimate we can hardly suppose that these would number more than forty millions of the population. 2nd.--The well-to-do middle classes, earning twenty rupees and upwards, numbering say seventy millions. 3rd.--The fairly well off laboring classes, whose wages are from five rupees and upwards, numbering say at the most one hundred millions. 4th--The poverty stricken laboring classes, earning less than five rupees a month for the support of their families. These cannot at the lowest estimate be less than twenty-five millions. 5th.--The destitute and unemployed poor, who earn nothing at all, and who are dependent for their livelihood on the charity of others. These can hardly be less than twenty-five millions, or a little less than one-tenth of the entire population. The two hundred and ten millions who are supposed to be earning regularly from five rupees and upwards per family, we may dismiss forthwith from consideration. For the time being they are beyond the reach of want, and they are not therefore the objects of our solicitude. At some future date it may be possible to consider schemes for their amelioration. Indirectly, no doubt, they will benefit immensely by any plans that will relieve them of the dead weight of twenty-five million paupers, hanging round their necks and crippling their resources. But for the present we may say in regard to them, happy is the man who can reckon upon a regular income of five rupees a month for the support of himself and his family, albeit he may have two or three relations dependent on him, and a capricious money lender ever on his track, ready to extort a lion's share of his scanty earnings. And thrice happy is the man who can boast an income of ten, fifteen, or twenty rupees a month, though the poorest and least skilled laborers in England would reckon themselves badly paid on as much per week. We turn from these to the workless tenth and to the other tenth who eke out a scanty hand-to-mouth existence on the borders of that great and terrible wilderness. But before enumerating and classifying them, there is one other important question which calls for our consideration. CHAPTER III. THE MINIMUM STANDARD OF EXISTENCE. What may reasonably be said to be the minimum scale of existence, below which no Indian should be suffered to descend? Fix it as low as you like, and you will unfortunately find that there are literally _millions_ who do not come up to your standard. Pick out your coarsest, cheapest grains, and weigh them to the last fraction of an ounce. Rigidly exclude from the poor man's bill of fare any of the relishes which he so much esteems, and the cost of which is so insignificant as to be hardly worth mentioning, and yet you will find legions of gaunt, hungry men, women and children, who would greedily accept your offered regimen to-morrow, if you could only discover the wherewithal for obtaining the same, and who would gladly _pay for it with the hardest and most disagreeable description of labour._ Take for instance the prison diet, where the food is given by weight, and where it is purposely of the coarsest description consistent with health. That the quantity is insufficient to satisfy the cravings of hunger I can myself testify, having spent a month inside one of Her Majesty's best appointed Bombay prisons, and having noted with painful surprise the eagerness with which every scrap of my own coarse brown bread, that I might leave over, was claimed and eaten by some of my hungry, low-caste fellow prisoners! The clothing and the blankets are also of the very cheapest description. Of course it must be remembered too, that the food and materials being bought in large quantities, are obtained at contract prices which are considerably less than the usual retail rates in the bazaar. And yet notwithstanding these facts it costs the Bombay Government on an average Rs. 2/4 per month for each prisoner's food, and close upon Rs. 2 a year for clothing, besides the cost of establishment, police guard, hospital expenses and contingencies. Altogether according to the figures given in the Jail Report of 1887 for the Bombay Presidency, including all the above mentioned items, I find that the average monthly cost to Government for each prisoner is a little over Rs. 6 a head. Now it is a notorious, though almost incredible, fact, that in many parts of India, men will commit petty thefts and offences on purpose to be sent to jail, and will candidly state this to be their reason for doing so. Many Government Officials will, I am sure, bear me out in this. Here we have men who are positively so destitute that they are not only prepared to accept with thankfulness the scanty rations of a jail, but are willing to sacrifice their characters and endure the ignominy of imprisonment and the consequent loss of liberty and separation from home and family, because there is absolutely no other way of escape! In Ceylon the jail is familiarly known among this class as their "_Loku amma_", or "_Grandmother_"! India has no poor law. There is not even the inhospitable shelter of a workhouse, to which the honest pauper may have recourse. Hence with tens of thousands it is literally a case of "steal or starve." I suppose that nine-tenths of the thefts and robberies, besides a large proposition of the other crimes committed in India, are prompted by sheer starvation, and until the cause be removed, it will be in vain to look for a diminution of the evil, multiply our police and soldiery as we will. But I am digressing. My special object in this chapter is to show the minimum amount which is necessary for the subsistence of our destitute classes. Another very interesting indication of the minimum cost of living in the cheapest native style, consistent with health, and a very moderate degree of comfort, is furnished by the experience of our village officers to whom we make a subsistence allowance of from eight to twelve annas per week. This with the local gifts of food which they collect in the village enables them to live in the simplest way, and ensures them at least one good meal of curry and rice daily, the rest being locally supplied. Here is the account of one of our Native Captains as to how he used to manage with his allowance of eight annas a week. I have taken it down myself from his own lips. "When in charge of a village corps, I received with others my weekly allowance. When I was alone I used to get 10 annas, and when there were two of us together we got eight annas each. This was sufficient to give us one good meal of kheechhree (rice and dal) every day, with a little over for extras, such as firewood, vegetables, oil and ghee. "We had two regular cooked meals daily, one about noon and the other in the evening. Besides this we also had a piece of bajari bread left over from the previous day, when we got up in the morning. "For the morning meal we used to beg once a week uncooked food from the villagers. They gave us about eight or nine seers, enough to last us for the week. "It was a mixture of grains, consisting ordinarily of bajari, bhavtu, kodri, jawar and mat. These we got ground up into flour. It made a sort of bread which is known as Sangru and which we liked very much. With it we would take some sag (vegetables) or dal. This was our regular midday meal. "Including the value of the food we begged, the cost of living was just about two annas a day for each of us. We could live comfortably upon this. "The poorer Dhers in the villages seldom or never get kheechhree (rice and dal). They could not afford it. Most of them live on "ghens" (a mixture of buttermilk and coarse flour cooked into a sort of skilly, or gruel) and bhavtu or bajari bread, or "Sangru." The buttermilk is given to them by the village landowners, in return for their labour. They are expected for instance to do odd jobs, cut grass, carry wood, &c. The grain they commonly get either in harvest time in return for labour, or buy it as they require it several maunds at a time. Occasionally they get it in exchange for cloth. Living in the cheapest possible way, and eating the coarsest food, I don't think they could manage on less than one annas' worth of food a day." One of our European Officers, Staff Captain Hunter, who has lived in the same style for about four years among the villagers of Goojarat, and who has been in charge of some 30 or 40 of our Officers, confirms the above particulars. He says that on two annas a day it is possible to live comfortably, but that one anna is the minimum below which it is impossible to go in order to support life even on the coarsest sorts of food. He tells me that the weavers have assured him that when husband and wife are working hard from early to late, they cannot make more than four annas profit a day by their weaving, since the mills have come into the country and then they have to pay a commission to some one to sell their cloth for them, or spend a considerable time travelling about the country finding a market for it themselves. A piece of cloth which would fetch nine rupees a few years ago, is now only worth three and a half or four rupees. Bearing in mind, therefore, the above facts, I should consider that if India's submerged tenth are to be granted, even nothing better than a "bullock charter," the lowest fraction which could be named for the minimum claimable by all would be one anna a day, or two rupees a month for each adult. As a matter of fact, I have no hesitation in saying, that there are many millions in India who do not get even half this pittance from year's end to year's end, and yet toil on with scarcely a murmur, sharing their scanty morsel with those even poorer than themselves, until disease finds their weakened bodies an easy prey, and death gives them their release from a poverty-stricken existence; which scarcely deserves the name of "life." CHAPTER IV. WHO ARE THE SUBMERGED TENTH? By classifying and grading the various orders that constitute Indian Society according to their average earnings, and by considering their minimum, standard of existence, I have sought to prepare the way for a more careful investigation of those who actually constitute the Darkest India, which we are seeking to describe. I have narrowed down our inquiry to the fifty millions, or whatever may be their number, who are either absolutely destitute, or so closely on the border-land of starvation as to need our immediate sympathy and assistance. Strictly speaking it is with the former alone, the absolutely destitute, numbering as I have supposed some twenty-five millions, that we are at present concerned. I have, however, found it impossible to exclude some reference to the poverty-stricken laboring classes, earning less than five rupees a month for the support of each family, inasmuch as they are probably far more numerous than I have supposed, and their miseries are but one degree removed from those of the utterly destitute. Indeed we scarcely know which is the most to be pitied, the beggar who, if he has nothing, has perhaps at least the comfort that nobody is dependent on him, or the poor coolie who with his three or four rupees a month has from five to eight, or more, mouths to fill! _Fill_ did I say? They are _never_ filled! The most that can be done in such cases is to prolong life and to keep actual starvation at bay, and that only it may be for a time! Nevertheless, I have restricted the term "Submerged Tenth" to the absolutely destitute, whom I now proceed to still further analyse. In doing so I have been obliged to include several important classes who happily do not exist in England, or who are at any rate so few in number, or so well provided for, as not to merit special attention. I mean the beggars, the destitute debtors, and the victims of opium, famine, and pestilence, without whom our catalogue would certainly be incomplete. Including the above we may say that the Indian Submerged Tenth consist of the following classes:-- I. The Beggars, excluding religious mendicants. II. The out-of-works,--the destitute, but honest, poor, who are willing and anxious for employment, but unable to obtain it. III. The Houseless Poor. IV. The Destitute Debtors. V. The Victims of Famine and Scarcity. VI. The Victims of Pestilence. VII. The Vicious, including (a) Drunkards. (b) Opium eaters. (c) Prostitutes. VIII. The Criminals, or those who support themselves by crime. They are alike in one respect, that if they were compelled to be solely dependent upon the proceeds of their labor, it would be impossible for them to exist for a single month. It is these who constitute the problem which we are endeavouring to solve. Here is the leprous spot of society on which we desire to place our finger. If any think, that it is not so big as we imagine, we will not quarrel with them about its size. Let them cut down our figures to half the amount we have supposed. It will still be large enough to answer the purpose of this inquiry, and should surely serve to arrest the attention of the most callous and indifferent! About its existence no one can have the smallest doubt, nor as to the serious nature of the plague which afflicts our society. As to the character of the remedy, there may be a thousand different opinions but that a remedy is called for, who can question? CHAPTER V. THE BEGGARS. One of the chief problems of Indian Society is that of beggary. India is perhaps the most beggar-beridden country to be found. Nor would it be possible under present circumstances to pass any law forbidding beggary. In the absence of a poor-law, it is the last resource of the destitute. True it is a plague spot in society and a serious reflection both on our humanity and civilisation, to say nothing of our religious professions, to tolerate the continued existence of the present state of things. And yet I see no reason why the problem should not be firmly and successfully handled in the interests alike of the beggars themselves and those who supply the alms. A short time ago I was visiting a Mahommedan gentleman in the Native quarter of Bombay. It was in the morning before he went to business, and I happened to hit upon the very time when the beggars made their usual rounds. I should think upwards of fifty men and women must have called during the few minutes that I was there. In fact it seemed like one never-ending string of them reaching down both sides of the street. Some sang, or shouted, to attract notice; others stood mutely with appealing eyes, wherever they thought there was a chance of getting anything. Many received a dole, while others were told to call again. I could not but be struck by the courteous manner of my host to them, even when asking them to pass along. On the opposite side of the road some food, or money, I forget which, was being distributed to a hungry crowd by another hospitable merchant. Evidently the supply was limited, and it was a case of first come first served. The desperate struggle that was going on amongst that little crowd of some fifty or sixty people was pitiful to behold. Now the present system, while better than nothing, is fraught with many serious objections, with which I am sure my Indian readers will agree. 1. The weakest must inevitably go to the wall. It is the strong able-bodied lusty beggar who is bound to get the best of it in struggles such as I have above described, although he is just the one who could and ought to work and who least needs the charity. He is able also to cover more ground than the weak and sickly. To the latter the struggle for existence is necessarily very severe, and while needing and deserving help the most they get the least. 2. This unsystematic haphazard mode of helping the poor is bound to be attended with serious inequalities; while some get more than is either good, or necessary, others get too little, and for the majority even supposing that on two or three days of the week they succeeded in getting a sufficiency, the chances are that on four or five they would not get nearly enough. It would be interesting to know the total amount of food thus distributed and the number of mouths that claim a share. 3. Of course in the case of any rise in the price of grains, the position of the beggar is specially painful, as it is upon him that the weight of the scarcity first falls. 4. Again the present system is a distinct encouragement to fraud. It is impossible for the givers of charity to know anything about the characters of those to whom they give. Thus much of their generosity is misapplied, and the most pitiable cases escape notice, either because they have not so plausible a tale, or because they have not the requisite "_cheek_" for pushing their claims. 5. While the generous are severely taxed, the less liberal get off scot free. They cannot give to all and therefore they will give to nobody. Some beggars are frauds, therefore they will help none. They have been taken in once, therefore they do not mean to be taken in again. 6. Finally the Indian army of beggars is continually increasing, and will sooner or later have to be dealt with. Private charity will soon be unable to cope with its demands, and humanity forbids that we should leave them to starve. I return therefore to the question, can we not seize this opportunity, in the common interests of both beggars and be-begged, for dealing vigorously with the difficulty, and for mitigating it, if we cannot at one stroke entirely remove it? I am very hopeful that this can be done, and that now certain classes of beggars. But in any case I think we may fairly view the problem in a spirit of hopefulness. Roughly speaking the beggars may be divided into four classes:-- (a) The blind and the infirm. (b) Those who take them about and share the proceeds of their begging. (c) The able bodied out-of-works, and (d) The religious mendicants. Passing over the last of these for obvious reasons, I would confine myself to the first three classes. But I must not anticipate. The scheme for their deliverance is fully described in a later portion of this book, and for the present I would only say that they constitute a very important section of India's submerged tenth and no plan would be perfect that did not take them fully into account. It is true that this does not form a part of General Booth's original scheme. But the reason for this is patent. In England vagrancy is forbidden. There is a poor law in operation and there are work-houses provided by the State. In India there is nothing of the kind, save a law for the _compulsory emigration_ of European vagrants, who are deported by Government and not allowed to return. For Natives there is no choice save the grim one between _beggary, starvation,_ and _the jail._ To obtain the shelter of the last of these they must leave their family, sacrifice their liberty, and commit some offence. Therefore the honest out-of-works are driven by tens of thousands to lives of beggary, which too often pave the way for lives of imposture and crime. That the problem is capable of being successfully solved, if wisely handled, has been proved by the Bavarian experiment of Count Rumford quoted by General Booth in an appendix to his book. True that in that case the Government lent their authority, their influence and the public purse to the carrying out of the Count's plan of campaign. This we do not think that public opinion would permit of in India, even if Government should be willing to undertake so onerous a responsibility. Nor do I believe that there is any necessity for it. The circumstances are a good deal different to those in Bavaria, and will be better met by the proposals which I have elsewhere drawn up. Anyhow it is high time that something should be done, and that on an extensive scale and of such a drastic nature as to deal effectually with the question. I can easily imagine that some may fear lest in dealing with the system we should wound the religious susceptibilities of the people. Begging has come to be such a national institution and is so much a part and parcel of the Indian's life and religion, that any proposal to extinguish the fraternity may cause in some minds positive regret. To such I would say that we do not propose to _extinguish_ but to _reform_, and with this one hint I must beg them, before making up their minds, to study carefully the proposals detailed in Chapter VII of Part II. CHAPTER VI. "THE OUT-OF-WORKS." I should question whether there is a single town or country district in India which does not present the sad spectacle of a large number of men, willing and anxious to work, but unable to find employment. Moreover, as is well known, they have almost without exception families dependent upon them for their support, who are necessarily the sharers of their misfortunes and sufferings. There is one district in Ceylon, where deaths from starvation have been personally known to our Officers, and yet the country appears to be a very garden of Eden for beauty and fertility. In the early years of our work I remember begging food from a house, and learning afterwards that what they had given us was positively the last they had for their own use. Needless to say that it was hastily returned. During the same visit a cry of "Thief, thief!" was raised in the night. We learnt next morning that the robbery had been committed by a man whose wife and child were starving. It consisted of rice, and the thief was discovered partly by the disappearance of the suspected person, and partly by the fact that in his house was found the exact quantity which had been stolen, whereas it was known that on the previous day he had absolutely nothing whatever in his house! He had left it all for his starving wife and child, and had himself fled to another part of the country, probably going to swell the number of criminals or mendicants in some adjoining city. I quote these instances as serving to show the impossibility of judging merely from outside appearances in regard to the existence or non-existence of destitution of the most painful character, which it is often to the interest of the local landlords to whitewash and conceal. It is only on looking under the surface that such can in many cases be discovered. It has been the actual living among the people that has made it possible for us to obtain glimpses of their home life, such as could not otherwise have been the case. But let me enumerate a few of the classes among whom the Indian "Out-of-works" are to be found. I do not mean of course to imply that the entire castes, or tribes, or professions, referred to, constitute them. Far from it. A large proportion are comparatively well off, and though entangled almost universally in debt, are included among the 210 millions with whom we are not now concerned. None the less it will be admitted, I believe, that it is from these that the ranks of destitution are chiefly recruited. I call attention to this fact, because it helps in a large measure to remove the religious difficulty which might at first sight appear likely to stand in the way of our being commissioned by the Indian public to undertake these much-needed reforms. They are almost without exception of either no caste, or of such low caste, that religiously speaking they may justly be regarded as "no man's land." The higher castes and the respectable classes are mostly able to look after themselves, and will not therefore come within the scope of our scheme. And yet on the threshold of our inquiry we are confronted with an important and increasing class, of "out-of-works" who are being turned out of our educational establishments, unfitted for a life of hard labour, trained for desk service, but without any prospect of suitable employment in the case of a great and continually increasing majority. I do not see how it will be possible for us to exclude or ignore this class in our regimentation of the unemployed. Certainly our sympathies go out very greatly after them. But beyond registering them in our labour bureau, and acting as go-betweens in finding employment for a small fraction of them, I do not see what more can be done. However, the majority of them have well-to-do relations and friends to whom they can turn, and except in cases of absolute destitution will not fall within the scope of the present effort. Passing over these we come to the poorest classes of peasant proprietors who, having mortgaged their tiny allotments to the hilt, have finally been sold up by the money-lender. Add to these again the more respectable sections of day-laborers. Then there are the destitute among the weavers, tanners, sweepers and other portions of what constitute the low-caste community. Out of these take now the case of the weaver caste, with whom we happen to be particularly familiar, as our work in Gujarat is largely carried on among them. Since the introduction of machinery, their lot has come to be particularly pitiable. In one district it is reckoned that there are 400,000 of them. Previous to the mills being started, they could get a comfortable competence, but year by year the margin of profit has been narrowed down, till at length absolute starvation is beginning to stare them in the face, and that within measurable distance. To the above we may add again the various gipsy tribes, who have no settled homes or regular means of livelihood. Finally, there are the non-religious mendicants, the religious ones being considered as not coming within the scope of our present effort, being provided for in charitable institutions of their own. Representatives of nearly all the above abound in our cities, and when both town and village destitutes come to be reckoned together, I do not think it will be too serious a view to take of their numbers, to reckon the absolutely workless as numbering at least 25 or 26 millions. CHAPTER VII. THE HOMELESS POOR. On this question I do not propose to say much, not because there is not much that could be said, but because in a climate like India it is a matter of secondary importance as compared with food. The people themselves are comparatively speaking indifferent to it. The "bitter cry" of India if put into words would consist simply of "Give us food to fill our stomachs. This is all we ask. As for shelter, we are content with any hovel, or willing to betake ourselves to the open air. But food we cannot do without." And yet, looked at from the point of view either of a moralist, a sanitarian, or a humanitarian, the question is one which calls for prompt consideration and remedial action. For instance, according to the last Government census, the average number of persons inhabiting each house in the city of Bombay is no less than 28. The average for the entire Presidency is six. But then it must be remembered that the great majority of the houses of the poor in the agricultural district consist of one-roomed huts, in which the whole family sleep together. In the cities the overcrowding has become so excessive, and the accomodation available for the poor is so inadequate, costly and squalid, as to almost beggar description. Considerations of decency, comfort and health are largely thrown to the winds. A single unfurnished room, merely divided from the next one by a thin boarding, through which everything can be heard, will command from five to thirty rupees a month, and even more, according to its position, in Bombay. The typical poor man's home in India consists as a rule of a single-storeyed hut with walls of mud or wattle, and roof of grass, palm-leaf, tiles, mud, or stones, according to the nature of the country. One or two rooms, and a small verandah, are all that he requires for himself and his family. In the cities the high price of the land makes even this little impossible. Take for instance Bombay. Here the representative of the London lodging-house is to be found in the form of what are called "chawls," large buildings, several storeys high, divided up into small rooms, which are let off to families, at a rental of from three rupees a month and upwards. Very commonly the same room serves for living, sleeping, cooking, and eating. There being as a rule no cooking place, the cheap earthen "choola" serves as a sufficient make-shift, and the smoke finds its exit through the door or window best it can. For hundreds, probably thousands, in every large city, even this poor semblance of a home does not exist. Those who manage somehow or other to live on nothing a month, cannot certainly afford to pay three rupees, or even less, for a lodging. Whilst, no doubt, many of the submerged, tenth are not absolutely houseless, inasmuch as they are often able to share the shelter of some relation or friend, it cannot be doubted that a very large percentage of them might say, "Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests," but we "have not where to lay our heads." Of the homeless poor there are two classes. The more fortunate find shelter in those of the Dharamsalas, Temples and Mosques which contain provision for such purposes. It must be remembered, however, that a large number of such institutions are reserved for certain favored castes, and are not therefore available for the out-caste poor. For the rest, the uncertain shelter of verandahs, porticoes, market-places, open sheds, and, in fine weather, the road-way, esplanade, or some shady tree, have to suffice. As already said, I am quite willing to admit that this question of shelter for the poor is of secondary importance as compared with that of their food-supply. And yet is it nothing to us that millions of the Indian poor have no place that they can call "home," not even the meagre shelter of the one-roomed hut with which they would gladly be content? Is it nothing to us that superadded to the sufferings of hunger, they have to face the sharp and sometimes frosty air of the cold weather with scarcely a rag to their backs, and no doors, windows, or even walls to keep off the chilly wind? Is it nothing to us that in the rainy season they have to make their bed on the damp floor or ground, though to do so means a certain attack of fever? Is it nothing to us that under such circumstances the houseless poor should be converted into a dismal quagmire in which moral leprosy, more terrible than its bodily representative, should thrive and propagate itself? Certainly if the Indian destitute are to have a "bullock charter" granted to them, it will be necessary that it should sooner or later include suitable and decent shelter as well as food. True, the problem is a vast one but this is no reason why it should be looked upon as insoluble, or left to grow year by year still vaster and more uncontrollable. What we propose ourselves to undertake in this will be found elsewhere (see Part II Chapter VI). It must be remembered, moreover, that if our efforts to deal with the workless masses in finding them employment should prove successful this will in itself help to remove much of the existing evil. And by directing labor into channels where it can be the most profitably employed, we shall help to disembarrass those channels which have at present got choked up with an excess of it. CHAPTER VIII. THE LAND OF DEBT. One of the darkest shadows on the Indian horizon is that of debt. A drowning man will snatch at a straw, and it would surely be inhuman for us to find much fault with the unhappy creatures who constitute the submerged tenth for borrowing their pittance at even the most exorbitant rates of interest in the effort to keep their heads above water. I have no desire here to draw a gloomy picture of the Indian Shylock. In some respects I believe him to be a decided improvement on his European and Jewish representative. It was only a short time ago that I read a blood-curdling description of the London money-lender, which put any Indian I have ever come across altogether into the shade. Nevertheless, Shylock flourishes in India as perhaps in no other country under the sun. His name is Legion. He is ubiquitous. He has the usual abnormal appetite of his fraternity for rupees. But strange to say he fattens upon poverty and grows rich upon the destitute. Whereas in other regions he usually concentrates his attention upon the rich and well-to-do classes, here he specially marks out for his prey those who if not absolutely destitute live upon the border-land of that desolate desert, and makes up by their numbers for what they may lack in quality. He gives loans for the smallest amount from a rupee and upwards, charging at the rate of half an anna per month interest for each rupee, which amounts to nearly 38 per cent. per annum. As for payment, he is willing to wait. Every three years, a fresh bond is drawn up including principal and interest. Finally, when the amount has been sufficiently run up, whatever land, house, buffalo, or other petty possessions may belong to the debtor are sold up, usually far below their real value. I remember one case, which came before me when I was in Government service, where the facts were practically undisputed, in which a cultivator was sued for 900 rupees, principal and interest, the original debt being only ten rupees worth of grain borrowed a few years previously. Ultimately it was compromised for about 100 rupees. This is by no means an exceptional case. Of course it may be said in favour of the money-lender that he is obliged to charge these high rates, to cover the extra risk, and that as a rule, he is generally prepared to forego half his legal claim when the time for payment comes. I am aware also that the subject has long occupied the earnest attention of Government, and that in some parts of the country enactments have been introduced for the relief of poor debtors. But these are only local and the evil is universal. A judicial Solon is sadly needed who shall rise up and boldly face the evil. The extortions of usurers have led to revolutions before now, and it seems high time for an enlightened Government to do something on a large scale for the abatement of the evil, if only by an absolute refusal to enforce any such usurious contracts. But I have only mentioned the subject, because it plays a specially important part in the present depressed condition of the submerged masses. In the following pages I hope among other things to be able to cast some rays of light into this valley of the shadow of debt, if not of death. CHAPTER IX. THE LAND OF FAMINE. Any review of Darkest India would be incomplete without some mention of the widespread and calamitous famines which periodically devastate the country and which reappear from time to time with terrible certainty. In a country where so large a proportion of the population is agricultural, and where the poor are almost entirely paid in kind, the failure of a single crop means the most terrible scarcity and privation for those who even in time of plenty live at best but a hand-to-mouth existence. And when the failure is repeated famine faces the poverty-stricken masses, and they are frequently swept off by thousands. In the terrible Madras famine of 1877 to 1878, several millions perished, in spite of the relief works and charitable agencies which hastened to their assistance. When the census of 1881 came to be taken, it was found that in this part of India, instead of the population having largely increased, as was everywhere else the case, there had been a diminution of two per cent as compared with the census of 1871. It may be said that such famines are not frequent and we are thankful to admit that this is so. Yet scarcely a year passes without some part of India suffering severely from partial droughts. Only last year hundreds of poor starving wretches, crowded into Bombay from Kattiyawar, and were for weeks encamped on the Esplanade, an abject multitude, dependent on the charity of the rich. And yet it was "no famine" that had driven them hundreds of miles from their homes, but "_only_ a scarcity." At the same time famine prevailed in the Ganjam District to an extent which would probably have been utterly discredited, had not the Governor of Madras proceeded personally to the spot, and reported on the terrible state of affairs. No less than 30,000 persons were thrown upon Government for their support. In the same year through a fortnight's delay in the break of the monsoon, there were grain riots at Trichinopoly and Tanjore, several merchants stores being broken into, through a rise in the price of food. Happily a subsequent fall of rain averted the impending calamity, prices fell and order was restored. Now to deal radically with famines it is necessary to meet them half way, and not to wait till they are upon us in all their stupendous immensity. It must be remembered that, as in the above instances, the present condition of things is such, that the mere threatening of famine is sufficient to send up the prices of food at a bound, to famine rates. The chief victims of famine are the very classes who have been here described as constituting the "submerged tenth." In ordinary times "the wolf" is always "at the door" but at these calamitous periods there is no door to keep him out, and he is master of the situation. Now General Booth's scheme proposes to deal with him promptly and remove him to such a safe distance, as shall make his inroads almost impossible. By leaving these destitute classes in their present miserable condition, we prepare for ourselves a gigantic and impossible task when the evil day of famine at last overtakes us. By facing the difficulty at the outset, and meeting it midway, we make our task much easier. Time is in our favour. True, the people are hungry, but they are not dying. We can afford to let them drift a few weeks, months, or even years longer, while we are putting our heads and hearts together to devise for them some way of deliverance commensurate with the immensity of their needs. But to resign oneself to the present condition of things as inevitable seems to me almost as heartless as to fold our hands helplessly at a time of absolute famine. To deafen our ears to the immediate distresses of the submerged tenth may be less criminal in degree but not in kind. To those who feel paralysed by the vastness of the problem I would say "Study General Booth's Way Out and the adaptation of it to India which I have endeavoured to sketch in the following pages." Here at least is a plan, perhaps not a perfect one, but still definite, tangible and immediately possible. Improve upon it as much as you like. Help us to remedy its defects by all means. But whatever you do, don't stand by as an indifferent spectator. Put your own individual shoulder to the wheel. Help us with your sympathy, prayers and substance to make the effort, and should failure ensue, you will at least have the satisfaction of realising that you have helped others to make an honest determined effort for dealing with a gigantic evil that involves the welfare, if not the existence of millions. CHAPTER X. THE LAND OF PESTILENCES. Happily a description of English destitution does not call for any reference to plagues, such as those which annually or at least periodically, devastate India, and that with such certainty that their presence has come to be regarded, almost with indifference, as a matter of course, or at least of necessity. Indeed we suppose that some would even look upon it as a Divinely ordained method for reducing the population. True, that in Europe the matter is regarded in a very different light. Public opinion has made its voice heard. Medical science has exerted itself, and not in vain. The laws of sanitation are better known, and are enforced upon the entire community by severe legal enactments. And above all, Christianity has taught the rich to say of the poor "He is my brother," and to provide for him the medical care and attention that would otherwise not be within his reach. What is possible in Europe is no doubt possible in India. Much has already been done, and our Government is fully awake to the importance of the subject, and will be able, year by year, to institute further improvements in this respect. With this, however, we are not directly concerned. My object in referring to the subject is to point out-- 1. That it is almost invariably from among the submerged tenth, with whom we propose to deal that these fearful plagues usually have their origin. Pestilence may indeed be said to take up its abode among them. Destitution is as it were the egg from which pestilence is hatched. There are brooding seasons when it may for a time disappear from sight. But it is there all the same and we know it. If we are to eradicate the evil, we must deal effectually with its cause. And this is the special object of General Booth's scheme. True, it may be possible to keep this deadly enemy at bay by multiplying our hospital fortresses and putting into the field medical legions armed with the latest discoveries of science. But the requisite paraphernalia is too expensive for a country like India; and who does not know that well-fed bodies, and healthy homes are better safeguards against disease than all the most costly medicines that could be provided by the British pharmacopoeia? If therefore we are able to deal radically with destitution we shall at the same time strike an effective blow at the pestilences which are at present such a scourge to India. 2. Again I would like to remind my readers of another fact, and in this aspect of the question, all classes of the community are bound to be interested. If pestilence begins its deadly work among the destitute, it can never be reckoned on to stop there. Indeed pestilence may be regarded as _Nature's revenge_ on society for the neglect of the poor. Once the cholera fiend has broken loose, it is impossible to tell whom he is going to select for his victims. The rich, the fair, the learned, the young, the strong, are often the first objects of his attention. He manifests a reckless disregard of social position. The distinctions of caste and rank, of beauty or learning, are not for him. And even as I write he may be preparing his invisible hordes of bacilli for fresh invasions, more terrible than those that have ever swept down from the mountains of Afghanistan. While we are spending millions upon strengthening our North-Western Frontiers against a foe who may never exist, save in our imagination, can we dare to neglect the more terrible enemy who defies all Boundary Commissions, who overleaps the strongest fortresses, and who laughs to scorn the largest cannon that ever capped our walls? 3. Finally there is one very sad shade in this part of our picture of darkest India. If on the one hand pestilence may be said to somewhat thin the ranks of the destitute by decreasing the number of mouths requiring to be fed, it must be remembered on the other hand that it continually recruits them both by sweeping away so many of the breadwinners, and by frequently paralysing many of those who are left, and preventing them from earning what they otherwise might. How often do we hear of even public institutions having to be closed, and of thousands being thrown out of work by the panic which ensues at such times. I have sought to confine myself to a matter-of-fact description of this gloomy subject, and to avoid anything that could be construed into mere sensationalism. And yet deaf must be the ears, and hard must be the hearts, that can be insensible to the cries of agony that yearly ascend from thousands and tens of thousands of homes. In a recent Government report, I find that from cholera alone in one year there were reported no less than 300,000 deaths; and yet the year was not remarkable for any exceptional outbreak. Still more terrible and regular are the ravages of the various malarial fevers, that sweep away millions yearly to a premature grave, often just in the prime of life, when they are most needed by the country. That a very large percentage of these deaths are directly connected with destitution, and that pestilence frequently but finishes the work commenced by months and years of starvation, is too notorious to require proof. It is a melancholy picture, and yet without it our review of Darkest India would be necessarily incomplete. CHAPTER XI. THE WHITE ANTS OF INDIAN SOCIETY. Hitherto our description of the Submerged Tenth has concerned those who may be styled principally the children of misfortune, and who in their struggle for existence have resort to means which are indeed desperate in their nature, but against which no moral objection can be raised. General Booth next calls attention to another great section of the Submerged Tenth who have found a temporary shelter or asylum in the temple of Vice,--those who either trade upon the sins of society, or are the miserable victims of those sins. The unlawful gratification of the natural appetites has ever been the snare by which millions have been deluded to damnation. If it were possible to combat this tendency in human nature by mere legal enactments, it would have been done long ago. But though much has been done in this way to hold vice in check, and to prevent it from openly parading itself in public as it otherwise would, yet it has chiefly been by the chains of religion that the monster has been bound, and even his legal shackles have mostly been manufactured at the anvils of the religious public. Take for instance the wholesale prohibition of intoxicating liquor by the Mahommedan religion, or again the strong Temperance movement that has more lately been established among Christians. The former has no doubt accomplished what would never have been done by means of legal enactments, while the latter has first educated the public on the Temperance question and has thus prepared the way for prohibitory legislation of a more stringent character. In dealing with this portion of the Submerged Tenth there can be no doubt that the religious and moral appeals of the Salvation Army Officers will serve to stimulate and enforce wholesale reformation. By substituting the attractions of our public meetings, we shall do much to counteract those of the liquor den and other factories of pollution and destitution,--for it is as such that we may regard the places where drunkards, opium-eaters, prostitutes, fornicators, and the other hideous satellites of Vice are manufactured wholesale, whether with or without the shelter of a license. A large proportion of those who are engaged in vice as a trade openly profess to do so as a means of subsistence, and because it enables them to eke out what is in nine cases out of ten but a scanty subsistence, and what is almost invariably accompanied by the most terrible penalties Nature can inflict on those who outrage her ordinances. Many are heartily sick of the trade, but can see no way of escape. In dealing with destitution we shall open for these a door of hope. The deserters from the ranks of those who trade in vice will help us to deal more effectively with those who still cling to the profession on account of its profits. In dealing with the panderers to the vices of society we shall largely diminish the numbers of its victims. It has been said that sinning is very much a matter of temptation, and in reducing those temptations, as we believe General Booth's scheme will largely tend to do, we shall be able to reduce in quantity, if we cannot hope to cause altogether to cease, the frightful holocaust of human victims that is annually offered up at this dark shrine. _(a) The Drunkards._ I will take the question of the Drunkard first, for it is itself a prolific root of all kinds of evil. The gradual breaking up of religious restraints, the increasing facilities for obtaining at smallest cost the most fiery and dangerous liquors, the added suffering entailed on any drinking habits that may be formed by the tropical heat of India, all serve to accentuate the gravity of the evil in this country. Add to this a consideration of the distressing poverty, the chronic hunger, the dull monotony, unrelieved by hope of amendment, in which myriads of the people of India fight out the battle of life; reflect how these must crave for the boon of forgetfulness and eagerly grasp at the wretched relief which drunkenness may bring. Nor can we throw the responsibility altogether upon the individual, if it be true that prior to contact with Western nations, the Hindoos were largely a temperate and even an abstinent people. We are in an especial manner bound to consider whether there can be found any alleviation or remedy for a disaster which, if we have not actually created, we have at least suffered to spring up unheeded and unchecked in our very midst. It is notorious that the large cities of India are crowded with shops of the kind thus described by Mr. Caine, late M.P., in his "Picturesque India": "The wide and spacious shops in front of which are strewn broken potsherds, and whose contents are two or three kegs and a pile of little pots; are the liquor-dealer's establishments. The groups of noisy men seated on the floor are drinking ardent spirits of the worst description absolutely forbidden to the British soldiers, but sold retail to natives at three farthings a gill." Mr. Caine goes on to say that in the city of Lucknow, with a population of some 300,000 inhabitants, there were in 1889 thirty distilleries of native spirits and 200 liquor-shops. The Government exchequer receipts from spirits in the North-West Provinces amount to nearly L600,000, having doubled themselves during the last seven years. This means that in round numbers L1,000,000 worth of native spirits is sold in these provinces per annum. Now consider first that as a rule with rare exceptions a native of India who uses the fiery country liquors drinks for no other purpose than to become intoxicated. They are manufactured with a view to this, and not as in Europe to provide a thirst-quenching potation. Mr. Caine says: "The people of India, unlike other people, only drink for the purpose of getting drunk, and if we make them drunken we destroy them more rapidly than by war, pestilence and famine." Nothing is clearer than that a rapidly increasing multitude in this country, once remarkable for its sobriety and thrift, are rushing headlong into the disastrous vice of intemperance and its attendant horrors, almost without check. Something must be done. We cannot cold-bloodedly abandon them to a gospel of despair. _(b) The Opium Slaves._ Darker still perhaps is the dreadful night, and more sickening the miasma, which lies around the opium creeks, multiplying and increasing and slowly sucking down into their slimy depths thousands upon thousands of those who dare to seek momentary relief from sorrow in its lethal stream. Mr. Caine thus describes an opium den in Lucknow:-- "Enter one of the side rooms. It has no windows and is very dark, but in the centre is a small charcoal fire whose lurid glow lights up the faces of nine or ten human beings, men and women, lying on the floor. A young girl some fifteen years of age has charge of each room, fans the fire, lights the opium pipe, and holds it in the mouth of the last comer, till the head falls heavily on the body of his or her predecessor. In no East-end gin palace, in no lunatic or idiot asylum, will you see such horrible destruction of God's image in the face of man, as appears in the countenances of those in the preliminary stage of opium drunkenness! Here you, may see some handsome young married woman, nineteen or twenty years of age, sprawling, on the ground, her fine brown eyes flattened and dull with coming, stupor; and her lips drawn convulsively back from her glittering white teeth. Here is a young girl sitting among a group of newly arrived customers singing some romance. As they hand round the pipes there is a bonny little lad of six or seven watching his father's changing face with a dreadful indifference. "At night these dens are crowded to excess, and it is estimated that there are upwards of twelve thousand persons in Lucknow enslaved by this hideous vice. An opium sot is the most hopeless of all drunkards. Once in the clutches of the fiend, everything gives way to his fierce promptings. His victims only work to get more money for opium. Wife, children, home, health, and life itself are sacrificed to this degrading passion." If twelve thousand for Lucknow be a fair estimate, can we put the figures for the whole country at less than 100,000? Still there is a deeper depth. In the same city, says Mr. Caine, there are ninety shops for the sale of Bhang and Churras. "Bhang," says the same writer, "is the most horrible intoxicant the world has ever produced. In Egypt its importation and sale is absolutely forbidden, and a costly preventive service is maintained to suppress the smuggling of it by Greek adventurers. When an Indian wants to commit some horrible crime such as murder, he prepares himself for it with two annas' worth of Bhang." _(c) Prostitution._ In the all but impenetrable shades and death-breathing swamps of this social forest, lie and suffer and rot probably not less than one hundred thousand prostitutes. Multitudes of these are dedicated to such a life in childhood, given over to it, in some cases by their parents and not unfrequently kept in connection with the temples. Thousands are searched for and persuaded and entrapped by old women, whose main business it is to supply the market. We know of at least one village where beautiful children, who have been decoyed or purchased from their parents by these prostitute-hunters, are taken to be reared and trained for the profession. In Bombay there is actually a caste in which the girls are in early childhood "married to the dagger," or, in other words, dedicated to a life of prostitution. In some of the cities old men are employed as touts to secure customers for the women, who remain in their haunts, thus seducing and leading into vice crowds of lads and young men who might otherwise have escaped. Such suffering, shame, cruelty, and wreckage belong to this crime that one's heart bleeds to think of the tens of thousands doomed, not by their own choice, but by the wicked greed of unnatural parents or the crafty cunning of wicked decoys to such a gehenna, without the least power to extricate themselves from its torment and its shame. With so much pity left upon the earth to weep over human woes, with so much courage still to hack and hew a path through grim forests and morasses of suffering, there must, and shall, be found "a way out." CHAPTER XII. THE CRIMINALS. The most recent report of the Indian Government informs us that there are now no less that 737 Jails in British India (exclusive of Native Territory), with an average population of 75,922 prisoners. In the course of last year in the Bombay Presidency alone no less than 76,000 criminals were convicted, while 152,879 were placed on trial before the various courts. In the whole of India the number of annual convictions amount to upwards of one million, while the number who appear before the Court are at least twice as numerous. Again, there are also immense numbers of offences committed yearly, in which the Police are unable to get any clue, the offenders having succeeded in eluding altogether the vigilance of the Law. For instance a celebrated outlaw has only recently been apprehended in Central India after several years of successful and daring robbery, arson, mutilation and murder. Indeed in many parts of India there are predatory tribes and communities of thieves who have to be perpetually under Police surveillance, and who are brought up from their infancy to thieving as a profession. We desire to plead the cause of the voiceless multitude who occupy our Indian Jails. The fact that they are voiceless,--that they have no means of voicing their claims, their wrongs and their rights (for they, too, _have_ rights), only adds to their danger. How can a criminal hope for redress? What chance has he of being heard? Who will listen? What advocate will plead his cause? Ah, if he happen to be rich, it is true, he will have many friends! But as a rule the criminal is poor. Often he has to choose between crime and starvation. For himself he might prefer to starve, but the sight of his emaciated wife and aged parents,--with whom, criminal though he be, he is as a rule ready to share his last crust,--the clamour of his hungry children, all this drives him to desperation and to a life of crime. He can only give voice to his sorrows and his needs by some fresh act of lawlessness. Hence the occasional outbursts of mutiny, and the murders of jail warders, which from time to time reach the newspapers and shock the public ear. And here I would desire to call attention to the fact that though crime must be vigorously dealt with and punished, at the same time the tendency of punishment is not to _reform_, but to _harden._ Who does not know that the _worst criminals_ are those who have been _longest in Jail_? Instead of _getting better_ they _grow daily worse_,--more adept in committing crime and eluding detection,--more careless as to its consequences. Equally futile would be the offer of a wholesale pardon. A singular illustration of this occurred in 1887, when in honour of Her Majesty's Jubilee in the Bombay Presidency alone, no less than 2,465 prisoners were released out of a total of 6,087. Yet the Government report goes on to show that within a few months of their release the Jails were fuller than ever! What, then, is to be done? Punishment hardens the criminal, pardon encourages crime, while the hearts of the offenders remain the same! Here steps in the Salvation Army. Its methods and meetings, however distasteful to the educated and refined, have a special attraction for these dangerous classes. Its Officers are accustomed to handle them with superhuman love and patience, as well as with a tact and adroitness such as has often elicited the admiration and praise of those who have no sympathy with our creed or ways of work. We have all over the world fearlessly invaded these criminals in their lowest haunts and dens, in the teeth of the warnings of the Police; we have braved their fiercest fury when, urged on by publicans, maddened with drink, misled by all sorts of infamous lies, and winked at or patronised by the Police and Magistrates, they have wreaked on us the utmost cruelties. We have invariably weathered the storm, though often at the cost of health and even life itself. And in the end as a rule the Roughs, Criminals and Dangerous Classes have become our warmest friends and vigorous supporters. From amidst them we have rescued and reformed some of the noblest trophies of Divine grace. This has been done all over the world. It has been done in India and Ceylon. In a later part of this book we have given a glimpse of this most interesting and important portion of our work. Independent witnesses testify to its reality. Government officials assure us of their warmest sympathy, and in not a few cases aid us with their influence and subscriptions. In Ceylon the Government has treated us most handsomely, throwing open their prisons for our Officers to visit and hold meetings among the prisoners, assisting us in the expenses of our Home with a monthly grant of Rs. 100, and encouraging the criminal classes to take advantage of the opportunity thus afforded them for reforming their lives. The common reason given for refusing such assistance elsewhere is that Government cannot interfere with the religion of the prisoners. But in Ceylon the majority of the prisoners are Buddhists, Hindoos and Mahommedans, and what has been found to work so well there can surely be tried with equal success elsewhere! Government does not hesitate all over India to assist religious bodies in their endeavours to _educate_ the people, and they may therefore well countenance and help forward, as they might so easily do, our efforts to reach and reform the criminal classes on precisely the same grounds, offering similar advantages to any Hindoo or Mahommedan Associations that might afterwards be formed for the same purpose. At present the Indian criminal has no friend to lend him a helping hand. Prison officials in various places have personally informed me that they are distressed at being able to do nothing for criminals, who, having lost their character and being abandoned by their friends, have no alternative but to return to their old associates. If our example causes others to rise up and make efforts for reaching and reforming these classes, who would not rejoice? At present it is a sad fact that throughout India the native criminals are debarred from all opportunities of being reached by the softening influences of religion. The Europeans have their Chaplains,--the Natives are allowed to have no one to minister to their souls' needs, or to bring to bear upon them those moral influences which might, and we know often would, lead to their reform. There seems no reason whatever why the following rules, which have been drawn up by the Ceylon Government, should not be adopted likewise in India:-- General Rules made by His Excellency the Governor, acting under the advice of the Executive Council for the Government of Prisons, for the guidance of the prison officers, _under and by authority of Section_ 26 _of the Prisons Ordinance_, 1887. 226. Ministers of religion and religions instructors shall be entitled to visit prisoners under commitment for trial and prisoners undergoing sentence after trial, and to give religious and moral instructions to those who are willing to receive the same on Sundays and other days in which prisoners are usually allowed freedom from work, between the hours of eight in the morning and four in the afternoon. 227. Such ministers or other persons shall be allowed access at all times (but between the hours specified) to all prisoners who shall be certified by the medical officers of the prison to be seriously ill. 228. In prisons where such an arrangement can conveniently be made, a suitable room shall be set apart where religious instruction can be afforded to prisoners and the rites of religion administered. 229. If, under the directions of Government, Christian services be held in any Jail, on Sundays and on other days when such services are performed, all Christian criminal prisoners shall attend the same unless prevented by sickness or other reasonable cause--to be allowed by the Jailor--or unless their service is dispensed with by the Superintendent. No prisoner, however, shall be compelled to attend any religious instruction given by the ministers or religious instructor of a church or persuasion to which the prisoner does not belong. 230. It shall be lawful for the Superintendent in charge of any prison to prohibit any particular minister or instructor visiting any prisoner in such prison, if it shall appear to him that such minister or instructor is an improper or indiscreet person, or likely to have improper communication with the prisoner, provided that such Superintendent shall without delay communicate his reason for doing so, to the Inspector General for report to Government. 231. No books or printed papers shall be admitted into any prison for the use of the prisoners, except by permission of the Superintendent, and the jailor shall keep a catalogue of all books and printed papers admitted into the prison. 232. It shall be the duty of the minister or instructor admitted to visit any prison, to communicate to the jailor any abuse or impropriety in the prison which may come to his knowledge, on pain of being prohibited from visiting the prison. CHAPTER XIII. ON THE BORDER LAND. Besides the 25,000,000 who constitute the actual destitute and criminal population, we estimate that at a very low computation there are 25,000,000 who are on the border-land, who are scarcely ever in a position to properly obtain for themselves and for their families the barest necessities of existence. I do not say that they are wholly submerged, but they pass a sort of amphibious existence, being part of the time under water and part of the time on land,--some part of their life being spent in the most abject poverty, and some part of it in absolute starvation--positively for the time submerged, and liable at any moment to be lastingly engulfed. These are the classes whose income never rises above five rupees a month, while more frequently it is under four rupees. On one farm, concerning which we have detailed information, where the rent of the land is unusually low, the soil good and well irrigated, where loans can be got at a merely nominal interest, the cultivators, with the additional help of occasional cooly work, did not average in their earnings four rupees a month, some having to keep a family on three and a half, while if a bullock died, or a plough had to be procured, it meant positive hunger and increased indebtedness to supply those needs. The fact is that in many districts there is not only an increase of population to be sustained by a constantly narrowing area of cultivated land, but the land itself is deteriorating through the unendurable pressure put upon it. As the forests grow more distant through being used up for timber and fuel, wood becomes dearer. The manure which ought to go upon the land is therefore by necessity consumed for fuel. The ground in consequence becomes impoverished. As the struggle for existence becomes fiercer, the people are unable to let their land periodically lie fallow, so the crops grow lighter. Again, the ryot is not only unable properly to feed himself, but his bullocks share a similar fate. The feeble animals can only draw a plough which merely scratches the surface of the ground. Furthermore, as the population increases the land is divided into smaller and smaller holdings. The struggle against the advancing tide of adversity cannot be maintained. Inch by inch the tide rolls up, pushing the border-landers closer and closer upon the black rocks of famine, to escape which they at length plunge into the sea amongst the submerged millions, who, weary and bitter and despairing, or with blind submission to the iron hand of fate, have grown hopelessly and miserably indifferent. Now, it is notorious that millions live thus on the border-land. Granted that after the harvest border-landers may for a time get two good meals a day. Yet as the reserve store dwindles down and long before harvest-time comes round, again, they get but one, and that frequently a scanty one. They do live, multitudes of them, it is true, amidst conditions that seem to us impossible. But how many of them die on this one meal a day, there is nobody to chronicle. But if we do nothing beyond rescuing a considerable mass of the totally submerged, we shall considerably ameliorate the condition of these border-landers. By rendering independent of charity thousands who now depend upon the gifts of the more fortunate, by making large tracts of land productive which at present lie waste, by enlarging the stream of emigration, and partially draining the morass of crime, it is absolutely certain that the conditions of life will become more favourable for the border-landers. New markets will be created both for produce and labour, which will tend to relieve the congested condition of the land now under cultivation. The land at present is like a good, but overworked and under-fed horse, which, under this double adversity of overwork and under-feeding, dies and leaves his poor owner, who was entirely dependent upon his earnings, a pauper. It is a condition of things which is bad, and bound of necessity to grow only worse and worse, till the willing horse drops under his load, and his master falls from poverty to destitution. Once enable the man to temporarily decrease his horse's labour and permanently increase its food supply, that horse will regain its strength, and by its increased strength become able to do double the amount of work, increase its master's earnings, and so in time enable him not only to properly feed his horse, but also to properly feed himself. Now close to hand there is an unemployed horse available which will afford the relief, for want of which the overworked horse is dying. The unoccupied and waste lands, waste labour, and waste produce, constitute the ideal unemployed horse, on whose back we would put part of the burden of maintaining the life and feeding the mouths of the Nation. This idle and hitherto useless horse will immediately become useful and productive, and will enable its under-fed companion, not only to be relieved of part of its burden, but also to get sufficient food, and grow once more plump and strong. Thus the man, or nation, that lived, however miserably, yet still lived, on the labour of the one famished over-worked horse, will then be able to get a decent living, since there will be two strong well-fed horses to work for them, instead of a single broken-down one. It is simply impossible within the limits of this chapter to trace out the whole process. Enough to say that as a rule, to which of course there are exceptions, one man's prosperity means some one else's prosperity. Suppose I am a beggar. I wear practically no clothing. The little I have is what somebody else has cast off. I have no home. I sleep in the street. I get very little food, and that I do not pay for. I produce nothing. My children, if I have any, are wastrels like myself. But I am lifted out of this beggary, I become a productive worker. I get a home, wear clothes, buy food, educate my children. Not only have I improved my own circumstances, but I have helped to improve the circumstances of others. Builders, shopkeepers, food-producers, all profit by my redemption. Now, if not one wastrel only, but 1,000,000 such are raised, a mighty impetus is given to industry of every kind, and the border-landers, instead of being driven on the black rocks by the tide of adverse surroundings, begin to drive back the tide, and conquer the earth, and subdue it, till the border-landers will be border-landers no longer, and the dreadful days of hunger will live only in the stories of famine and want, which the grey old man will tell to his happy and prosperous grandchildren, and ten thousand links of love between emigrant sons and home-staying fathers will bind the fertile plains of Ceylon, Burmah, Africa, and other countries to the populous shores of India. CHAPTER XIV. ELEMENTS OF HOPE. The picture which I have endeavoured to paint in the foregoing pages is dark enough to strike despair into the hearts of the most sanguine. And if there were indeed no way of escape for these victims of sin and misfortune, we might well prefer to draw a veil over the sad scene, and to bury in the ocean of forgetfulness, the very recollection of this earthly purgatory. But there are elements of hope in the consideration of this problem, which should prevent us from regarding it despair. 1. In the first place, supposing that we are correct in computing this human wastage at from twenty-five to twenty-six million souls, this would represent only some five million families. It is true that looked at even in this light the number is vast. But surely it is not impossible for India to make sufficient and suitable provision for them within her own borders, to say nothing of the "regions beyond" if reasonable thought and effort were put forth in dealing with the problem. 2. Again, as regards the _numbers_, it will be found _easier_ to deal with these great national problems in bulk than piecemeal, and their very size will give them an impetus when once they are fairly set in motion. It will be found as easy to dispose of 1,000 people as of a hundred, and of 50,000 as of a thousand, if they be properly organised. Indeed, for many reasons it is easier. The larger the community, the more work they at once provide for each other. Once let this social ball be set rolling on a large scale, and we may believe that it will soon get to move of its own weight. 3. Again, it is not an indiscriminate system of largely extended charity that we propose to provide. Our object is to find work for these workless multitudes, and such work as shall more than pay for the very humble pittance the Indian destitute requires. He must be a poor specimen of a human being who cannot fairly earn his anna or two annas a day, and our brains must be poor addled affairs, if in this great vast world of ours we cannot find that amount of work for him to do. It is all nonsense to talk about over-population, when the world is three parts empty and waiting to be occupied. 4. While we are piercing the bowels of the earth in search of gold, minerals and coal, there lies at our very door a mine of wealth which it is simple folly for us to ignore. True, the shaft has become choked with the rubbish of despair, vice and crime, which will take time, trouble and untiring patience to dig through. But it needs no prophet to foresee that beneath this rubbish are veins of golden ore which will amply repay our utmost efforts to open up. The old adage that "labour is wealth," and that a nation's riches consist in its hardy sons and daughters of toil, will yet be proved true. Treat this human muck-heap even as you would ordinary sewage or manure, and who does not know that the very same putrefying mass of corruption which if allowed to remain near our doors would breed nothing but fever, cholera, and the worst forms of disease and death, when removed to a little distance, will double and treble the ordinary fertility of the soil and produce crops that will increase the wealth of the entire nation? And knowing this can we be so blind, even to our selfish interests, as to treat this human waste in a manner that we should deem the very height of imprudence and folly in dealing with the other sort? Can we shut our eyes to the fact that there are moral diseases, more terrible in their nature, and more fatal to a nation's life, than the bodily ones, against which we are so anxious to guard, even at the most lavish expenditure of the public purse? And shall we, in dealing with this moral sewage, neglect even the most ordinary precautions that we consider necessary in dealing with the conservancy of our cities? If on the other hand the problem be boldly and wisely faced, I am convinced that in India, as in England, General Booth's most sanguine prophecies will be realised, our most pestilential marshes shall be drained, our moral atmosphere purified, prosperity take the place of destitution, and hope that of despair. The millstone that hangs around our national neck, so that we can barely keep our heads above water, even when there is not a ripple upon its surface, and that always threatens to engulf us in perdition at the first symptoms of a storm,--this millstone shall be converted into an unsinkable life-buoy, that shall not only support itself upon the crest of the highest waves, but shall help to keep afloat the entire national body. What is now an eyesore shall become an adornment, and what is now a cause of weakness shall be a source of strength, bulwark of protection and mine of wealth to all India. How this can be done we have sought in the following pages to unfold, adhering carefully to the programme marked out by General Booth, and suggesting only such additions and alterations as the circumstances of the case appear to necessitate. PART II.--THE WAY OUT. CHAPTER I. THE ESSENTIALS TO SUCCESS. General Booth prefaces his scheme for the deliverance of the submerged by laying down briefly the essentials to success. I cannot do better than quote from his own words. (1) "You must _change the man_, when it is his character and conduct which constitute the reasons for his failure in the battle of life. No change in circumstances, no revolution in social conditions, can possibly transform the nature of man. Some of the worst men and women in the world, whose names are chronicled by history with a shudder of horror, were whose who had all the advantages that wealth, education and station could confer, or ambition could obtain. "The supreme test of any scheme for benefiting humanity lies in the answer to the question; what does it make of the individual? Does it quicken his conscience, does it soften his heart, does it enlighten his mind? Does it, in short, make a true man of him? Because only by such influences can he be enabled to lead a human life. You may clothe the drunkard, fill his purse with gold, establish him in a well furnished house, and in three, six, or twelve months, he will once more be on the "Embankment," haunted by delirium tremens, dirty, squalid and ragged. (2) "The remedy, to be effectual, must _change the circumstances_, when they are the cause of his wretched condition, and lie beyond his control. (3) "Any remedy worthy of consideration must be on _a scale commensurate with the evil_, which it proposes to deal with. It is no use trying to bale out the ocean with a pint pot. There must be no more philanthropic tinkering, as if this vast sea of human misery were contained in the limits of a garden pond. (4) "Not only must the scheme be large enough, but it _must be permanent._ That is to say, it must not be merely spasmodic coping with the misery of to-day, but must go on dealing with the misery of to-morrow and the day after, so long as there is misery left in the world with which to grapple. (5) "But while it must be permanent, it must also be _immediately practicable_, and capable of being brought into instant operation with beneficial results. (6) "The indirect features of the scheme must not be such as to produce injury to the persons whom we seek to benefit. Mere charity for instance, while relieving the pinch of hunger, demoralises the recipient. It is no use conferring sixpenny worth of benefit on a man, if at the same time we do him a shillings worth of harm. (7) "While assisting one class of the community, it must not seriously interfere with the interest of another. "These are the conditions by which I ask you to test the scheme I am about to unfold. They are not of my making. They are the laws which govern the work of the philanthropic reformer just as the laws of gravitation, of wind and of weather govern the operation of the engineer. It is no use saying we could build a bridge across the Tay, if the wind did not blow. The engineer has to take into account the difficulties, and make them his starting point. The wind will blow, therefore the bridge must be made strong enough to resist it. So it is with the social difficulties, which confront us. If we act in harmony with these laws we shall triumph. But if we ignore them, they will overwhelm us with destruction, and cover us with disgrace." CHAPTER II. WHAT IS GENERAL BOOTH'S SCHEME? His object is to supply the destitute with food, shelter and clothing, to provide them with work and to set them on their feet for making a fresh start in life. With a view to this he proposes to call into existence, a threefold organisation, consisting of self-helping and self-sustaining communities, governed and disciplined on the principles of the Salvation Army. These he calls "Colonies", and divides into (1) The City Colony, (2) The Country Colony, and (3) The Over-sea Colony. All these are to be linked together and to be interwoven with and dependent on each other. In the City Colony a series of agencies will be established for gathering up and sifting the destitute. Thence they will be passed on to the Country Colony and subsequently many of them will be sent to Colonies across the sea. Now this triple organisation can be brought into existence, on the largest possible scale in India under circumstances peculiarly favorable to the success of the scheme. Our country is not of limited extent like England. It covers an immense area and includes a conglomeration of nationalities, such as we find in Europe, with the special advantage of being united under a single, and that a friendly Government. Then again there is the fact that, though the influx from the country to the cities has commenced, yet it has not at present got beyond manageable proportions, so that it is possible for us, if awake to the emergency, to rise up and divert the stream into more desirable channels. If instead of waiting for a further irruption of village Goths and Vandals, (which is only a matter of time, and which will soon overwhelm our City labour market and compel the attention of our civil authorities,) we anticipate the event and meet them half way by opening up fresh channels for them, more in harmony with their own taste and preference, we shall not only confer an inestimable boon upon them, but shall turn them into a source of strength and revenue for the country, and shall with them people tracts which are at present barren and fruitless, but which are only waiting to be occupied and which in many cases have only to be restored to the prosperity that they formerly enjoyed. Finally we have the great advantage of a people already trained to husbandry from their youth, and accustomed to the very co-operative system of farming which General Booth advocates, where payments are mostly to be made in kind rather than in cash, and where the exchange of goods will largely supersede transactions in money, a strong but paternal government regulating all for the general good. CHAPTER III. THE CITY COLONY. The first portion of General Booth's threefold scheme consists of the City Colony. This may aptly be compared to a dredger, which, gathers up all the silt of a harbour, and carries it out to sea, leaves it there and then returns to repeat the operation. If such an operation is necessary in a harbour, and if without it the best anchorages in the world would often get choked with rubbish and become useless, how doubly important must it be in the case of the human wastage that abounds in every large Indian City. Should a single ship strike on an unknown rock, we hasten to mark it down in our charts, or erect over the spot a lighthouse as a warning to others. Should it sink where it is likely to hinder the traffic, we set our engineers to work to remove it, even though it may be necessary to blow it to atoms. And yet it is a notorious fact that our cities abound with rocks over which there is no lighthouse,--that every channel is obstructed with sunken vessels, and that there are not a few tribes of pirates who fatten on the human wreckage. But we fold our hands in despair, and allow bad to grow worse, till the problem daily becomes more enormous, desperate and difficult to deal with. Now General Booth's scheme proposes to establish a dredger for every harbour, a lighthouse for every rock, an engineer for keeping clear every channel. It may be too much to expect that there will be no wrecks, but they will be fewer, and that surely is something! We do not say that there will be no accidents, but there will be willing hands held out to deliver. We cannot hope to abolish failures, mistakes, shortcomings and weaknesses of various sorts, but we shall do our best to anticipate and provide for them? We are sure there will be difficulties and disappointments to encounter, but we shall meet them in the confidence that God is on our side, that He is intensely interested in the efforts which He Himself has inspired us to undertake and that ultimate victory is bound to crown our efforts. And now I would give a brief description of this great City Dredger, explaining its component parts in the chapters that are to follow. We cannot promise that the entire machine will get into working order at once. We are anxious to start it immediately and to complete it as soon as possible. But on the public will largely depend the question as to how long it will take us to get it afloat and finished. Its simplicity, practicability, and universality are to me at the same time its chief charms, and its credentials to success. It is only part of a larger scheme with which it is entwined. But it is an important, perhaps the most important part and will continue to exercise over the entire effort the controlling head and the inspiring heart without which the whole apparatus will be as motionless as a machine without steam, or a body without life. The following are the various branches of the City Colony-- (1) The Regimentation of Labor. (2) Food for all--Food Depots. (3) Work for all--Labor yards. (4) Shelter for all. (5) The household Salvage Corps. (6) The Prison Gate Brigade. (7) The Drunkard's Home. (8) The Rescue Home for fallen women. (9) The poor man's Metropole. (10) The Emigration Bureau. To these no doubt will in course of time be added many other branches. In the meantime this is in itself a sufficiently extensive programme for some years to come. How we propose to elaborate each of the above, will be found in the following pages. CHAPTER IV. THE LABOR BUREAU. One of the most painful sights with which modern civilisation presents us is the enormous and increasing wastage of valuable human labor. The first step towards remedying this gigantic and alarming evil will be to ascertain its extent. This we propose to do by means of our Labor Bureau. Here all classes of out-of-works will be welcomed, from the respectable well educated intelligent youths, who are being poured out of our colleges by thousands, to the most squalid specimen of a Lazarus that lies at our gates desiring to be fed with the crumbs that fall from our tables. All will be sorted out, sifted and regimented, or organised, into distinct corps, which will in time no doubt develope into legions. The Bureau will not, however, stop short with simply ascertaining the extent of the evil which exists. It will at the same time turn its attention to the examination and regimentation of the channels which already exist for the absorption of that labor. For while it is true that there are vast quantities of unutilised labor, and that the present supply of labor greatly exceeds the demand, it is also true that for want of suitable arrangements for bringing together capital and labor, the capitalist also frequently loses time and money, either in searching for labor which he cannot get, or in resorting to labor of an inferior quality, where labor of a superior quality would bring in much larger returns. Into the pre-existing channels it would be the first aim of our Labor Bureau to pour the labor supply of the country. And experience would probably enable us to widen, deepen and lengthen these channels in such a manner as would prove profitable to both employers and employed, as well as to the nation at large. When, however, this had been done, it is alas! only too certain that we should still have left upon our hands a vast amount of surplus labor, for which we should next proceed to dig out new and profitable channels. The problem no doubt bristles with difficulties, but that is no reason why we should sit down before it and fold our hands in despair. Once upon a time, aye for hundreds of years, the waters of the Cauvery were poured in one useless torrent into the sea, sweeping past great tracts of thirsty land, which craved its waters, but could not reach them. At the present moment scarcely a drop of that river reaches the ocean. Its course has been diverted into a thousand channels, and so fertilising are its waters that the rich alluvial deposits which they bear render the use of manure unnecessary. And yet for centuries these possibilities were unrecognised and suffered to go to waste. Is not this a fitting picture of the huge river of labor that winds its course through arid plains of want and poverty and starvation, which it is capable of fertilising and converting into a modern Paradise? True that on its banks and in its immediate neighbourhood are strips of luxuriant vegetation. But those only show up in painful relief the utter barrenness of the "region beyond." Why should the dwellers upon the banks be allowed to monopolise and appropriate that which they cannot even utilise, and that which is often a source of positive danger, annoyance and loss to them? Why should not channels be devised for these human waters, by means of which they should be distributed, so as to be put to the utmost possible use? This social problem is no doubt the "white elephant" of society. Cannot we devise a "kheddah" for capturing the entire herd wholesale? Perhaps after all we shall find it easier and quicker to catch and tame the herd, than to set snares and pitfalls for individual ones and twos. Ah, you say, many have tried and failed. That is because they have not studied the habits of the animal. Besides it is by means of failure that the grandest successes have ultimately been achieved. See how skilfully that "mahaut" manages his huge yet obedient servant. And cannot we point already in our own ranks to elephants more wonderful that have been tamed and mastered by the goad of love? It is the successes of the past that encourage General Booth to face the problem in the spirit of hopefulness that breathes through every page of "Darkest England." And if the genius of man has been able to tame the strongest of animals, such as elephants,--the fiercest, such as lions,--the swiftest, such as horses, and the dullest, such as the ass,--why should we despair of reducing to order this chaotic mass of labor, and of turning that which at present constitutes a danger that threatens the very existence of society into a source of safety, of wealth and power? At any rate this is the object that will be kept steadily in view by our Labor Bureau. All persons will be able to register names at our Bureau. If they are destitute and willing to go to our yards, they will be sent there and given work suitable to their caste, or profession. If on the other hand they are not in need of such assistance, being supported by their friends, we shall simply register their names and do our best to find suitable work for them, though it would of course be distinctly understood by them that we undertook no responsibility in regard to this. A small fee will be charged, in proportion to the nature of the case. This would serve to cover the expenses of the Bureau, which would I am sure meet a long felt want. Employers of labour would benefit almost more even than the men employed, as we should always be able to supply them at a short notice with any description and number of "hands" that they might require, and they would be saved the expense, delay, and uncertainty of having to advertise. For instance I know of millowners who complain that they cannot get labourers who will stay, and that their work suffers from the flotsam, jetsam character of those whom they employ working for a few weeks and then leaving. This we should be able to remedy. Indeed after a short time we might reasonably expect that in recognising the great convenience thus afforded them, millowners and other great employers of labour, including very possibly the Government and the Railway Companies would refuse to employ any who had not registered themselves at our Bureau. Again it would doubtless be a great satisfaction to employers in cases where a reduction of establishment became necessary, to feel that they could hand over to us those with whose services they were dispensing, knowing that every effort would be made to make suitable provision for them. The labour register would contain columns in which would be entered the various kinds of employment for which the applicant was willing or suited, and the minimum pay which he was prepared to accept, so that we should be able to ascertain exactly how many out-of-works there were of each particular class. We should also enter in a separate register those who had accepted an inferior position, in the hopes of being able to better themselves subsequently. In connection with our registers we should keep a character roll. Copies of certificates would be filed, and notes made in regard to unsatisfactory characters, so that in course of time we should be able to give some sort of a guarantee in regard to those whom we sent out. In the case of any one being reported to us as unsatisfactory, we should still, however, give him another chance by redrafting him into our Labour Yards, or by giving him some sort of inferior employment, more immediately under our own surveillance, till he had regained his character. Among other things we might undertake to supply servants to European families. A register of such would be very useful both to masters and servants. For instance in the case of lost "chits" we could supply certified copies of the original. There is another class to whom I should think the establishment of such an agency will be particularly welcome. Our cities swarm with educated young men unable to find employment. Although we cannot include them among our destitute classes, we believe that without turning aside from our main object, we could do a great deal to help them. If our scheme grows to the proportions and with the rapidity which we anticipate, this would in itself absorb large numbers of them. And where we could do no more we could obtain a moral influence over them and they would come within the scope of the Advice and Intelligence Bureaux which are described elsewhere. Constituting as they do the cream of the youth of India, full of ardent, though often misdirected, enthusiasm, we should be able to help mould them into happy, independent, prosperous and loyal citizens, who would be a bulwark to the State, instead of leaving them to simmer in their present unfortunate circumstances. "To dig" they don't know, and "to beg" they are ashamed. They would in their turn I believe give an important impetus to our scheme and might constitute themselves its fervent apostles helping it to sweep from end to end of India in less time than it is possible for us to conceive. CHAPTER V. FOOD FOR ALL--THE FOOD DEPOTS. In England, owing to the severity and uncertainty of the weather, the food and shelter questions go hand in hand. This is not the case in India, where the shelter is not so important as the food, and there is no such urgency in dealing with the former as with the latter. For instance during nine months out of twelve it is not such a very great hardship to sleep in the open air in most parts of India. I have myself done it frequently and so have many of our Officers. It is true that we should not like it as a regular thing, and still less perhaps, if driven to it by absolute want. Still I am perfectly prepared to admit that the circumstances are totally different to that of England, and that the question of shelter is of secondary importance as compared with food. The time will come when we shall be obliged to face and deal with it. If our scheme meets with the success that we anticipate, having first satisfied the gnawings of these hunger-bitten stomachs, we shall certainly turn round and think next what we can do to provide them with decent homes for themselves and their families. But we can safely afford to defer the consideration of this question for the present, in order to throw all our time and energy into the solution of the infinitely more urgent and important problem of a regular and sufficient food supply for these destitutes. At present as I have already pointed out, they are dependent solely on the help of relations and friends and on the doles of the charitable; or on the proceeds of vice and crime. The insufficiency of these to meet the needs of the case I have also, I believe, proved to demonstration. Therefore one of the first parts of our City programme will be the establishment of cheap food depots, at which food of various kinds will be supplied at the lowest possible cost price. These depots will be dovetailed in with other parts of our scheme, which have yet to be described, and the one will help to support the other. It may be objected that if we undertake to sell food at lower than the ordinary market rates, we shall interfere with the legitimate operations of trade. But to this we would answer that the same objection would be still more true in regard to charitable doles, which are given for nothing. And further, we shall fix our prices with a view to covering the actual cost of the food, so that there will not be any probability of our interfering with ordinary market rates. Besides, should there be any very serious difficulty of the kind, we could always make a rule limiting the food sold at these depots to those who came under the operation of the other branches of our social reform. At the outset it would probably be wisest to avoid all caste complications by confining ourselves entirely to uncooked food, leaving the people to do their own cooking, but it is very probable that before long we should be forced to undertake the preparation of cooked food. We should of course pay due regard in this respect to the customs of the various castes, religions and nationalities concerned. To a Hindoo for instance it would be extremely disagreeable to eat out Of the same dish as others, while Mahommedans, as one said to me the other day, only enjoy the meal the more, when others are sitting round the platter. These, however, are subordinate details which would largely settle themselves as we went along. Food in some shape or form, the destitute must have, good in quality and sufficient in quantity, and if they prefer it uncooked this will save us trouble, whereas if cooking becomes necessary we shall have another industry for the employment of many hands. Meanwhile the fact that nearly every native of the poorer castes, be it man, woman, or even child, knows how to cook their own food, is likely to be of no little help in settling the question of the food supply. CHAPTER VI. WORK FOR ALL, OR THE LABOUR YARD. But it may next be asked, what we shall do in the case of those who have no money with which to buy their food, even at the reduced rates we would propose? To this we would reply that such will be expected to perform a reasonable amount of work, in return for which they will be given tickets entitling them to obtain food from the depots just referred to. In order to do this we shall establish labour yards, where we shall provide work of a suitable character for the destitute. This will involve very little expense, as sheds of a cheap description will answer our purpose, there being no necessity for providing against the inclement weather which adds so greatly to the expense and difficulty of carrying on such operations in England. Whatever may be the produce of this cheap labour, we shall be careful to sell it rather above than below the ordinary market rates, so as to avoid competing with other labour. Moreover, we shall direct our attention from the first to manufacturing chiefly those articles which are likely to be of service to us in other branches of our scheme, so that the labour of the destitute will go chiefly towards supplying their own wants and those of the persons who are engaged in prosecuting the work. For instance, supposing that a number of the destitute were employed in making coarse cloth, baskets, mats, or cow-dung fuel, these could be retailed at a nominal figure to those who presented our labour tickets at our food depots. The most encouraging feature in the establishment of labour yards is that nearly every Indian has been brought up from childhood to some trade. You can rarely meet the most ignorant and uneducated Native without finding that he is thoroughly expert at some kind of handicraft. In brigading the poor we should be careful to make the best use of this knowledge by putting each as much as possible to the trade with which he was most familiar. The following industries, the majority of them directly connected with various branches of our work, could be started at once and would need scarcely any outlay to begin with. 1. _The Potters Brigade_--Would furnish us with the earthenware, for which we should from the first have a very large demand. The Household Salvage Brigade would require some thousands of pots to start with and in connection with our food depots we should be able to dispose of thousands more. 2. _The Weavers Brigade_--This would give employment for a large number of skilled hands. Their first object would be to supply the kinds of clothes, blankets, &c., which would be most suitable for the use of the submerged tenth. In catering for their wants we should avoid, however, anything _prisony_, or _workhousey_, or charity-institutiony in appearance. As our numbers increased we should find plenty of work for our weavers, at any rate for many years to come without entering into any sort of competition either with the market or the mills. 3. _The Basket Brigade_--Would supply us with all sorts of cheap baskets, for which we should have a constant demand. 4. _The Mat Making Brigade_--Would find employment for many more hands in supplying us with mats for sleeping and household purposes. 5. _The Fuel Brigade_--Here we have an industry which requires no skill. There would be two branches of it--the woodchoppers and the Oopala makers. For the latter women and children could be largely employed both in the collection of the cow-dung and in the preparation of it for use as fuel. 6. _The Tinners Brigade_--Will be kept busy making receptables and badges for the Salvage Brigade, and also probably emblems for the Labor Bureau. 7. _The Ropemakers Brigade_--Will furnish employment to a number more and the results of their labour will find an ample market in our various colonies. 8. _The Tanners Brigade_--Will supply all our departments with such leather as may be required for various purposes, and among other things will be attached to. 9. _The Shoemakers Brigade_--Who will be employed in patching up the old shoes collected by our Household Salvage Brigade and in making new ones for our consumption. 10. _The Tailors Brigade_--Will supply uniform and clothing of all kinds. For these we have already a very considerable demand, which would increase year by year. 11. _The Carpenters Brigade_--Would have plenty to do in providing seats for our Barracks, office essentials, boxes, and household furniture for our colonies. They would be linked with 12. _The Building Brigade_--For whom we shall find ample employment in the erection of our Labour Sheds, Shelters and Farms. 13. _The Masons Brigade_--Would also be attached to the previous one, and would become an important feature in our Labour Department. 14. _The Brick Makers Brigade_--Would supply us with all the bricks and tiles that we might require. Here again it is easy to see that, without trenching in the least on the outside public, we should create and support an important industry which would soon absorb hundreds if not thousands of hands. 15. _The Painters Brigade_--Would undertake the painting and whitewashing of our buildings, carts, tinware, &c. 16. _The Dyers Brigade_--Would find employment in dyeing our cloth, or the various sorts of thread we might require for the use of our weavers. 17. _The Dhobees Brigade_--Although among our community we should encourage every one to be his own dhobee, yet from the first we should have plenty of washing to employ a considerable number of hands. 18. _The Umbrella Makers Brigade_--Would find considerable scope in repairing the old frames collected by our Household Salvage Brigade; while the Sewing Brigade would work the covers. 19. _The Paper-makers Brigade_--Would also be supplied with plenty of material by the Household Salvage Brigade, and would keep our printing establishment supplied with whatever paper they might require. Already we consume a considerable quantity, and this would be enormously increased by the development of our scheme. 20. _The Book-binders Brigade_--Would furnish us with our registers for the Regimentation Bureau, besides doing our other miscellaneous work of a similar description. 21. _The Brass Brigade_--Would supply Our colonies with the various kinds of brazen vessels we should be likely to require. For these in process of time there would be a large demand. 22. _The Net-making Brigade_--Would make nets for fishing purposes. 33. _The Hawkers Brigade_--There could be no possible objection to our disposing of our goods in this way at the ordinary market rates supposing that we were in a position to manufacture more than we required for our own consumption. 24. _The Barbers Brigade_--Would also be a necessary addition to our forces, and would find plenty of scope for their skill among the unwashed multitudes who would compose our labour legions. Such are some of the occupations which might at once be set on foot. To these would no doubt be added many other sorts of handicraft, as our numbers and experience increased, and fresh opportunities opened up around us. CHAPTER VII. SHELTER FOR ALL, OR THE HOUSING OF THE DESTITUTE. A considerable portion of General Booth's book is devoted to the description of shelters, improved lodgings and suburban villages for the poor. As elsewhere remarked this question is not of such vital importance for India as for England, though the dealing with it is simply a question of time. We would therefore simply refer our readers to the admirable proposals embodied in General Booth's book. It is possible that there may be some who will desire that immediate steps should be taken for the preparation of similar quarters for the poor in our terribly over-crowded Indian cities. It is in any case extremely likely that the question will be forced upon us at an early date by the people themselves. But I have thought it best to narrow down the scheme as much as possible to those things which seem of the most absolute and immediate urgency, and I have therefore divested it as much as possible of all that could reasonably be dispensed with. Still I see no reason why each city should not have its "Poor Man's Metropole," as well as its model dwellings and suburban villages, for the working classes. I would have these, moreover, as purely oriental as possible with a careful avoidance of anything that might be European in their appearance and arrangements. There should be tanks for bathing, and washing purposes, gardens, recreation grounds for the children, proper conveniences for cooking, and quarters in which they would not be herded together like cattle, but given the decencies of life, so necessary and helpful to the encouragement of cleanliness and morality. Another point would be the absolute absence of anything in the shape of mere "charity" about any of the buildings. Everybody would be made to feel happy and at home, and their self-respect would be cultivated by arranging for suitable charges to be made, payment being taken either in cash or labour. However, these are only hints that are thrown out, to show that we are fully awake to the importance of this subject, and in order that friends who are interested in the question may feel free to communicate their wishes and give us their advice. CHAPTER VIII. THE BEGGARS BRIGADE. I now come to a special element of both hope and difficulty in the solution of our Indian Social problem,--The Beggars. Here we have the lowest stratum of the submerged tenth, excluding from them the religious mendicants with whom we are not now concerned. I have classified them as follows:-- 1. The blind and infirm. 2. Those who help them and share the proceeds of their begging. 3. Able-bodied out of works. Now I propose to deal with them in a way which will not call for Legislation. In the first place it is most improbable that Government would interfere with beggary, even if asked to do so. Certainly no such interference would be possible without assuming the responsibility of the entire pauper population, involving an expenditure of many million pounds. In the second place any such interference would in all likelihood be extremely distasteful to the native public. In the third place I believe the question can be better dealt with in another way. I propose to cut diamond with diamond, to set a thief to catch a thief, to make a beggar mend a beggar. In other words my plan is to _reform_ the system rather than _abolish_ it. To the radical reformer who would sweep out the whole "nuisance" at one stroke, this may be a disappointment. But I believe that this feeling will be diminished, if not entirely removed, when he has made himself familiar with the following scheme. Of course if the Upas tree could be uprooted and banished from our midst,--if with a wave of his magic wand some sorcerer could make it disappear, so much the better. But this is impossible. We should require an axe of gold to cut down the tree; and this we do not possess. If a rich and powerful Government shrinks from the expense of such an undertaking, we may well be excused for doing the same. But after all supposing that you can transform your Upas tree into a fruit-bearing one, will not this be even better than to cut it down? Such things are done every day before our very eyes in nature. The stock of the crab-apple can be made to bear quinces, and a mango tree that is scarcely worth the ground it occupies, can be made to yield fruit which will fetch four annas a piece! What is done in the garden is possible in human nature. And God will yet enable us to graft into this wretched and apparently worthless Upas stock, a bud which in coming years shall be loaded with fruit that shall be the marvel of the world. This human desert shall yet blossom as the rose, this wilderness shall become a fruitful garden, and the waste places be inhabited. Surely then, better even than the _annihilation_ of beggary will be its _reformation_, should this be possible. At least the suggestion is well worthy of consideration, and in examining, the matter, there will be several important advantages to which I shall afterwards refer. (1.) The first step that we would take in reforming the-beggars would be to _regiment them._ The task would be undertaken by our Labor Bureau. In this I do not think there would be serious difficulty encountered, if the scheme commended itself to the native public. They would only have to stop their supplies and send the beggars to us. (2.) Our next step would be to _sort out_ the beggars. They would be divided into three classes:-- (a) _The physically unfit_, who could be furnished with light work at our labor yards, or otherwise cared for. At present there are hundreds of beggars who are physically unfit for the exertion that begging involves, and who are driven to it by the desperate pangs of hunger. (b) _Those who like_ it, and are physically well fitted for it, besides being accustomed to the life, and not being fitted much for anything else. (c) Those who dislike the life, and would prefer, or are suited for other occupations. Some of these we would draft off to other departments of our labour yards, while some would for the present be kept on as beggars, with the hope of early promotion to other employment. (3.) We should _brigade the beggars_ under the name of the Household Salvage Brigade, or some similar title, dividing them into small companies and appointing over them Sergeants from among themselves, and providing each with a badge or number. (4.) We should with the advice and consent of the leading members of the native community, _map out the city into wards_, and assign each company their respective streets, allotting as far as possible the Mahommedan beggars to the Mahommedan quarters, and the Hindoos to the Hindoo. In this we should also take the advice of experienced beggars, from whom we should expect to learn many useful hints. (5,) Each house that was willing to receive them would _be supplied with three receptacles_, one for waste cooked food, another for gifts of uncooked food, and a third for old clothes, waste paper, shoes, tins, bottles, and other similar articles. (6.) At an appointed hour the Brigade would proceed to their posts, would patrol their wards, and bring or send the various articles collected to the labor yards, where all would be sorted and dealt with as necessary the cooked food being distributed among those who were willing to eat it, or sent to the surburban farm for our buffaloes. The raw grain would be handed over to our food depots, and credited by them to the Beggars Fund for the special benefit of the destitute. (7.) At the end of each day every member of the Brigade would receive a food ticket in payment of his services. The amount could be regulated hereafter. This ticket he would present at our food depot, where he would be supplied with whatever articles he might require. There would be a regular system of rewards and encouragements for good conduct. But all such details will be settled hereafter. (8.) A special feature in the system would be the introduction of the ancient _Buddhist_ custom of "_meetihal_," or "the consecrated handful of rice." This is as follows. A pot is kept in each home and a handful of grain is put into it every time the family meal is cooked. We think that there would be no difficulty in getting this custom universally adopted, when it was understood that the proceeds would be devoted entirely to feeding the destitute. I believe that the income derived from this alone would in course of time be sufficient to meet the needs of the destitute in any city in India, at the same time that it would serve to equalise and therefore minimise the burden which now rests chiefly on a comparative few. (9.) In case the food supply thus obtained should be insufficient, we have little doubt that we could persuade leading merchants in the city to club together and make up the difference, when they saw the good work that was going on. Such in brief is a skeleton of the scheme for elevating and renovating the Beggar population of India. It is no doubt open to criticism on some points, but it has special advantages which I will proceed to point out, apologising for the extra space I am obliged to occupy, in dealing with this subject, on account of its novelty and importance, and in order that I may be thoroughly understood. 1. _It is conservative._ Here you have a reformation without a revolution, or rather a revolution by means of a reformation. And yet there is no attempted upheaval of society. 2. It is thoroughly _Indian_, and suited to the national taste. 3. It _costs nothing_ and may even prove in time a source of income to the Social Scheme. 4. It is _doubly economical_ since it uses the human waste in collecting what would be the natural wastage of the city, and devotes each to the service of the other. 5. It is _systematic_ and therefore bound to be as immensely superior to the present haphazard mode, as a regular Army is to an undisciplined mob. 6. It unites the advantages of _moral suasion_, with those of the most perfect _religious equality_ and _toleration._ 7. _It saves the State an enormous expenditure