... They are born; they are
wretched; they die.... In no foreign country of far less civilization
than England, is there the same improvidence."--_Lord Lytton_.
"No man oppresses thee, O free and independent franchiser; but does not
this stupid pewter pot oppress thee? No son of Adam can bid thee come or
go, but this absurd pot of heavy-wet can and does, Thou art the thrall,
not of Cedric the Saxon, but of thy own brutal appetites, and this
accursed dish of liquor. And thou pratest of thy 'liberty,' thou entire
blockhead!"--_Carlyle_.
"Never did any publike misery
Rise of it selfe; God's plagues still grounded are
On common staines of our Humanity:
And to the flame, which ruineth Mankind,
Man gives the matter, or at least gives winde."--_Daniell_.
England is one of the richest countries in the world. Our merchants are
enterprising, our manufacturers are industrious, our labourers are
hard-working. There is an accumulation of wealth in the country to which
past times can offer no parallel. The Bank is gorged with gold. There
never was more food in the empire; there never was more money. There is
no end to our manufacturing productions, for the steam-engine never
tires. And yet notwithstanding all this wealth, there is an enormous
mass of poverty. Close alongside the Wealth of Nations, there gloomily
stalks the Misery of Nations,--luxurious ease resting upon a dark
background of wretchedness.
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