Great Britain -- Social conditions; Moral conditions; Social problems
To the great majority of these million and a half of London's poor,
sexual pleasure is the one cheap luxury; and we encourage them to
breed industriously. My wife, with other ladies and gentlemen,
addresses them on the subject from the tail of a cart in South London,
and teaches the heavy-burdened mothers how to avoid having so many
children; and the leader of this little group was sourly and
menacingly (and quite falsely) told by a distinguished Churchman,
sitting in a Royal Commission, that they were breaking the law of the
land. A friend of mine has been hounded out of the United States by
the police for attempting to give similar information to the poorer
mothers of New York.
Even in this third and very large category of London homes there is
much filth; and the windows, across which is drawn an odd cloth or a
ragged and dirty curtain, abound in broken panes. They have periods of
comparative plenty, when the children get boots and socks, and their
elders soak in beer and may even venture to a cinematograph show, if
the crude pictures on its garish façade promise a sufficiently silly
or sufficiently bloody programme. All that the police and the clergy
care about is that not more than an inch or two of underclothing are
exhibited in these places. They have also periods of want, when the
clothes go to the pawnshop, and life runs on the exasperating,
brutalising lines of the lower class. The daily round of life is
itself stupefying. At five or six they are dragged out of an
insufficient sleep, and they dully take their tea (of a kind) and
bread and margarine on a dirty table. After ten or twelve hours of
anxious quest of minute profits they return home for a slightly better
meal--a kipper, perhaps, or a few bits of cheap meat--too tired in
mind and body to do more than smoke and drink. They have plenty of
fun, of a sort, and take their tragedies lightly; but the angels, if
there are any, must fold their wings over their faces at the aspect of
these fellow-immortals. Even a politician might be expected to blush
for this self-governing democracy. It is a squalid, degrading,
stupefying life, below the level of civilisation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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