Volume Ii Part 10 (1/2)
My overcoat was torn and spoiled, but I was not much hurt. The hoof of one horse had made black part of one arm. It appears I had fallen between them, and had it not been for their intelligent discrimination I might have been killed. I sent two bags of the fattest feeding cake the Co-operative Agricultural a.s.sociation could supply, as a present to those two horses. I had no other means of showing my grat.i.tude to them.
I was not so grateful to the Humane Society's surgeon, who sent me in a bill for two guineas for attendance upon me, and threatened me with legal proceedings if I did not pay it. As he accompanied me to the National Liberal Club, whence I had set out, I sent him one guinea for that courtesy, and heard no more of him, and did not want to.
One evening, after leaving a Co-operative Board Meeting in Leman Street, Whitechapel, I incautiously stepped into the roadway to hail a cab, when a lurry came round a corner behind me and knocked me into the mud, which was very prevalent that day. Some bystanders picked me up, and one, good-naturedly, lent me a handkerchief with which to clear my face and head, both being blackened and bleeding. The policeman who took charge of me asked me where I wanted to be taken. I answered that I was on my way to Fleet Street to an a.s.sembly of the Inst.i.tute of Journalists to meet M. Zola, then on a visit to us. ”I think, sir,” said the reflective policeman, ”we had better take you to the London Hospital,” and another policeman accompanied me in a pa.s.sing tram, which went by the hospital door. After some dreary waiting in the accident ward it was found that I had no rib or bone broken, but my nose and forehead were bound up with grim-looking plasters, and when I arrived at the hotel, four miles away, where I was residing, and entered the commercial room, I had the appearance of a prize-fighter, who had had a bad time of it in the ring.
Knowing the second day of an accident was usually the worst, I took an early train home while I could move. My ribs, though not broken, were all painful, and I remember squealing for a fortnight on being taken out of bed. After my last adventure the Accident Insurance Company (though I had never troubled them but once) refused to accept any further premium from me, which I had paid twenty or thirty years, and left me to deal with further providential escapes from my own resources.
Thinking I was safe in Brighton near my own home, I was walking up the Marine Parade, one quiet Sunday morning, when a gentleman on a bicycle rushed down a bye street and knocked me down with a bound. Seeing two ladies crossing the street I concluded matters were safe. The rider told me that he had seen the ladies and had arranged to clear them, but as I stepped forward he could not clear me, so gave me the preference. As I had always been in favour of the rights of women, I said he did rightly, though the result was not to my mind. He had the courtesy to accompany me to my door, apologising for what he had done, but left me to pay the bill of the physician, who was called in to examine me. When I recovered my proper senses I found he had not left his card. Though I advertised for him, he made no reappearance.
Another serene Sunday morning I was crossing the Old Steine with a son-in-law; nothing was to be seen in motion save a small dog-cart, which had pa.s.sed before we stepped into the road. Soon we found ourselves both thrown to the ground with violence. A huge dog, as large as the ”Hound of the Baskervilles” described by Conan Doyle, had loitered behind and suddenly discovered his master had driven ahead, and he, like a Leming rat, made straight for his master, quite regardless of our being in his way.
In these and other adventures or _mis_-adventures, I need not say I was never killed, though the escapes were narrow. To say they were providential escapes would be to come under the rebuke of Archbishop Whately, who, when a curate reported himself as providentially saved from the terrible wreck of the _Amazon_, asked: ”I to understand that all less fortunate pa.s.sengers were providentially drowned?” The belief that the Deity is capricious or partial in His mercies is a form of holy egotism which better deserves indictment than many errors of speech which have been so visited. I have no theory of my many exemptions from fatal consequences. All I can say is that, had I been a saint, I could not have been more fortunate.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI. LIMPING THRIFT
Thrift is so excellent a thing--is so much praised by moralists, so much commended by advisers of the people, and is of so much value to the poor who practise it--that it is strange to see it r.e.t.a.r.ded by the caprices of those who take credit and receive it, for promoting the necessary virtues. Insurance societies continue to recommend themselves by praising prudence and forethought which provides for the future.
Everybody knows that those who do not live within their income live upon others who trust them. Those who spend all their income forget that if others did as they do, there would be universal indigence. Insurance companies are supposed to provide inducements to thrift, whereas they put wanton obstacles in its way.
He who takes out a policy on his life finds it a condition that if he commits suicide his policy will be forfeited--the a.s.sumption of insurance offices being that if a man insures his life he intends to cut his throat. Can this be true? What warrant of experience is there for this expectation? Is not the natural, the instinctive, the universal love of life security sufficient against self-slaughter? If life be threatened, do not the most thoughtless persons make desperate effort to preserve it? Is it necessary for insurance societies to come forward to supplement incentives of nature? Is not the fact that a man is provident-minded enough to think of insuring his life, proof enough that his object is to live?
Answers to a series of questions are demanded from an insurer, which average persons do not possess the knowledge to answer with exact.i.tude; yet failure in any fact or detail renders the policy void, although a person has paid premiums upon it for thirty or forty years.
Elaborate legal statements which few can understand are attached to a policy which intimidates those who see them, from wis.h.i.+ng to incur such unfathomable obligation. A few plain words in plain type would be sufficient for the guidance of the insured and the protection of the company. The uncertainty comes from permitting questions of popular interest to be stated by a member of the legal profession. If the terms of eternal salvation had been drawn up by a lawyer, not a single soul would be saveable, and the judgment day would be involved in everlasting litigation.
An office known to me had judges among its directors, from which it was inferred by the insured that the office was straight. The holder of a policy in it, making a will, his solicitor on inquiry found that the office did not admit his birth. They had received premiums for forty years, still reserving this point for possible dispute after the policy-holder was dead, never informing him of it. When the insurance was effected, they saw the holder of it and could judge his age to a year. They saw the certificate of his birth, but gave him no a.s.surance that they admitted it and it had to be presented again.
In another case within my knowledge, the owner of a policy obtained a loan upon it, from a well-known lawyer in the City of London, who gave the office, as is usual, notice of it. When the loan was repaid he again wrote to the office saying he had executed a deed of release of his claim on the policy. That the office was not satisfied with this a.s.surance was never communicated to the policyholder, and when many years later, the lawyer who advanced the loan was dead, and his son who succeeded him was dead, it transpired that the office did not believe the a.s.surances they had received. They admitted having received the letter by the loan maker, but required to see the deeds relating to the advance and release and repayment of the loan; and they gave the policyholder to understand that he had better keep those deeds, as his executors might be required to produce them at his death. It was a miracle they were not destroyed. As the office had been legally notified that the claim on the policy had ceased, it was never imagined that deeds which did not relate to the office could be required by it. Under this intimidation the deeds have now been kept. They are fifty years old. This Scotland Yard practice of treating an insurer as a thief, detracts from the fascination of thrift.
Another instance was that of a policy-holder who applied to the office for a loan, for which 1 per cent, more interest was demanded than his banker asked, and a rise of 1 per cent, in case of delay in paying the interest, and a charge was to be made for the office lawyer investigating the validity of their own policy, upon which the office had received premiums for forty-seven years.
Directors, like the Doge of Venice, should have a lion's mouth open, of which they have the key, when they might hear of things done in their name, not conducive to the extension of thrift.
No wonder thrift goes limping along, from walking in the jagged pathway which leads to some insurance office.
There are, as I know, offices straightforward and courteous, who foster thrift by making it pleasant. Yet, as one who has often advocated thrift, I think it useful to record my astonishment at the official impediments to its popularity, which I have encountered. This is one reason why Thrift, the most self-respecting of all the G.o.ddesses that should be swift-footed, goes limping along.
CHAPTER x.x.xVII. MISTRUST OF MODERATION
Temperance is restraint in use. Abstinence is entire avoidance, which is the wise policy of those who lack the strength of temperance.
How necessary entire abstinence is to many, I well know. When the drink pa.s.sion sets in, it leads to an open grave. The drinker sees it, and knows it, and, with open eyes walks into it. He who realises the danger, would, as Charles Lamb said--
”Clench his teeth and ne'er undo them, To let the deep d.a.m.nation trickle through them.”
For such there is no salvation save entire abstinence. Thousands might have been saved but for the fanaticism of abstinence advocates who opposed in Parliament every legal mitigation of the evil, thinking the spectacle of it would force the legislature into prohibition. In discussions, lectures, articles, I advocated the policy of mitigation, and supported measures in Parliament calculated to that end, encountering thereby the strong dissent of temperance writers who, not intending it, connived at drunkenness as a temperance policy.
Is it true that moderation is dead? Have teetotalers extinguished it as a rule of daily life? Bishop Hall, in his fine way, said, ”Moderation was the silken string running through the pearl chain of all our virtues.” Was this a mistake of the ill.u.s.trious prelate? Is not temperance a wider virtue than total abstinence? Is there no possibility of establis.h.i.+ng temperance in betting? Can no limitation be imposed on betting? The public know denunciatory preaching does not arrest it.
Innumerable articles are written against it. Letters about it are not lacking in the editor's post-bag. Yet not a mitigation nor remedy is suggested, save that of prohibition, which is as yet impossible.
Betting is a kind of instinct, difficult to eradicate, but possible to regulate. Games of hazard, as card-playing or dice, are naturally seductive in their way. They are useful as diversions and recreation.