"Now you have asked my secret, I'll tell you all about it. But you must not be offended if I speak plain. First, I pay nothing for my drink."

"Nothing? Then you don't pay your shot, but sponge upon your neighbours."

"Never! I drink water, which costs nothing. Drunken days have all their to-morrows, as the old proverb says. I spare myself sore heads and shaky hands, and save my pennies. Drinking water neither makes a man sick nor in debt, nor his wife a widow. And that, let me tell you, makes a considerable difference in our out-go. It may amount to about half-a-crown a week, or seven pounds a year. That seven pounds will clothe myself and children, while you are out at elbows and your children go barefoot."

"Come, come, that's going too far. I don't drink at that rate. I may take an odd half-pint now and then; but half-a-crown a week! Pooh!

pooh!"

"Well, then, how much did you spend on drink last Sat.u.r.day night? Out with it."

"Let me see: I had a pint with Jones; I think I had another with Davis, who is just going to Australia; and then I went to the lodge."

"Well, how many gla.s.ses had you there?"

"How can I tell? I forget. But it's all stuff and nonsense, Bill!"

"Oh, you can't tell: you don't know what you spent? I believe you. But that's the way your pennies go, my lad."

"And that's all your secret?"

"Yes; take care of the penny--that's all. Because I save, I have, when you want. It's very simple, isn't it?"

"Simple, oh yes; but there's nothing in it."

"Yes! there's this in it,--that it has made you ask me the question, how I manage to keep my family so comfortably, and put money in the Penny Bank, while you, with the same wages, can barely make the ends meet.

Money is independence, and money is made by putting pennies together.

Besides, I work so hard for mine,--and so do you,--that I can't find it in my heart to waste a penny on drink, when I can put it beside a few other hard-earned pennies in the bank. It's something for a sore foot or a rainy day. There's that in it, Jack; and there's comfort also in the thought that, whatever may happen to me, I needn't beg nor go to the workhouse. The saving of the penny makes me feel a free man. The man always in debt, or without a penny beforehand, is little better than a slave."

"But if we had our rights, the poor would not be so hardly dealt with as they now are."

"Why, Jack, if you had your rights to-morrow, would they put your money back into your pocket after you had spent it?--would your rights give your children shoes and stockings when you had chosen to waste on beer what would have bought them? Would your rights make you or your wife, thriftier, or your hearthstone cleaner? Would rights wash your children's faces, and mend the holes in your clothes? No, no, friend!

Give us our rights by all means, but _rights are not habits_, and it's habits we want--good habits. With these we can be free men and independent men _now_, if we but determine to be so. Good night, Jack, and mind my secret,--it's nothing but _taking care of the pennies_, and the pounds will take care of themselves."

"Good-night!" And Jack turned off at the lane-end towards his humble and dirty cottage in Main's Court. I might introduce you to his home,--but "home" it could scarcely be called. It was full of squalor and untidiness, confusion and dirty children, where a slattern-looking woman was scolding. Ransom's cottage, On the contrary, _was_ a home. It was snug, trig, and neat; the hearthstone was fresh sanded; the wife, though her hands were full of work, was clean and tidy; and her husband, his day's work over, could sit down with his children about him, in peace and comfort.

The _chief secret_ was now revealed. Ransom's secret, about the penny, was a very good one, so far as it went. But he had not really told the whole truth. He could not venture to tell his less fortunate comrade that the root of all domestic prosperity, the mainstay of all domestic comfort, is _the wife_; and Ransom's wife was all that a working man could desire. There can be no thrift, nor economy, nor comfort at home, unless the wife helps;--and a working man's wife, more than any other man's; for she is wife, Housekeeper, nurse, and servant, all in one. If she be thriftless, putting money into her hands is like pouring water through a sieve. Let her be frugal, and she will make her home a place of comfort, and she will also make her husband's life happy,--if she do not lay the foundation of his prosperity and fortune.

One would scarcely expect that for a penny a day it would be possible to obtain anything valuable. And yet it may be easily shown how much a penny a day, carefully expended, might do towards securing a man's independence, and providing his wife and family against the future pressure of poverty and want.

Take up a prospectus and tables of a Provident Society, intended for the use of those cla.s.ses who have a penny a day to spend,--that is, nearly all the working cla.s.ses of the country. It is not necessary to specify any particular society, because the best all proceed upon the same data,--the results of extensive observations and experience of health and sickness;--and their tables of rates, certified by public actuaries, are very nearly the same. Now, looking at the tables of these Life and Sickness a.s.surance Societies, let us see what a penny a day can do.

1. For _a penny a day_, a man or woman of twenty-six years of age may secure the sum of ten shillings a week payable during the time of sickness, for the whole of life.

2. For _a penny a day_ (payments ceasing at sixty years of age), a man or woman of thirty-one years of age may secure the sum of 50 payable at death, whenever that event may happen, even though it should be during the week or the month after the a.s.surance has been effected.

3. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of fifteen may secure a sum of 100, the payment of the penny a day continuing during the whole of life, but the 100 being payable whenever death may occur.

4. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of twenty may secure an annuity of 26 per annum, or of 10_s_. per week for the whole of life, after reaching the age of sixty-five.

5. For _a penny a day_,--the payment commencing from the birth of any child,--a parent may secure the sum of 20, payable on such child reaching the age of fourteen years.

6. For _a penny a day_, continued until the child readies the age of twenty-one years, the sum of 45 may be secured, to enable him or her to begin business, or start housekeeping.

7. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of twenty-four may secure the sum of 100, payable on reaching the age of sixty, with the right of withdrawing four-fifths of the amount paid in, at any time; the whole of the payments being paid back in event of death occurring before the age of sixty.

Such is the power of _a penny a day!_ Who would have thought it? Yet it is true, as any one can prove by looking at the tables of the best a.s.surance offices. Put the penny a day in the bank, and it acc.u.mulates slowly. Even there, however, it is very useful. But with the a.s.surance office it immediately a.s.sumes a vast power. A penny a day paid in by the man of thirty-one, is worth 60 to his wife and family, in the event of his dying next month or next year! It is the combining of small savings for purposes of mutual a.s.surance, by a large number of persons, that gives to the penny its enormous power.

The effecting of a life a.s.surance by a working man, for the benefit of his wife and children, is an eminently unselfish act. It is a moral as well as a religious transaction. It is "providing for those of his own household." It is taking the right step towards securing the independence of his family, after he, the bread-winner, has been called away. This right investment of _the pennies_ is the best proof of practical virtue, and of the honest forethought and integrity of a true man.

The late Joseph Baxendale was the constant friend of the working people who co-operated with him in the labours of his life. He was a man of strong common sense, and might have been styled the Franklin of Business. He was full of proverbial wisdom, and also full of practical help. He was constantly urging his servants to lay by something for a rainy day, or for their support in old age. He also used to pension off his old servants after they had ceased to be able to work.

He posted up Texts along his warehouses, so that those who ran might read. "Never despair," "Nothing without labour," "He who spends all he gets, is on the way to beggary," "Time lost cannot be regained," "Let industry, temperance, and economy be the habits of your lives." These texts were printed in large type, so that every pa.s.ser-by might read them; while many were able to lay them to heart, and to practise the advices which they enjoined.

On other occasions Mr. Baxendale would distribute amongst his workpeople, or desire to be set up in his warehouses and places of business, longer and more general maxims. He would desire these printed doc.u.ments to be put up in the offices of the clerks, or in places where men are disposed to linger, or to take their meals, or to a.s.semble preparatory to work. They were always full of valuable advice. We copy one of them, on the Importance of Punctuality:--

"Method is the hinge of business; and there is no method without Punctuality. Punctuality is important, because it subserves the Peace and Good Temper of a family. The want of it not only infringes on necessary Duty, but sometimes excludes this duty. The calmness of mind which it produces is another advantage of Punctuality. A disorderly man is always in a hurry. He has no time to speak to you, because he is going elsewhere; and when he gets there, he is too late for his business, or he must hurry away to another before he can finish it.

Punctuality gives weight to character. 'Such a man has made an appointment; then I know he will keep it.' And this generates Punctuality in you; for, like other virtues, it propagates itself.

Servants and children must be punctual, when their Leader is so.

Appointments, indeed, become debts. I owe you Punctuality, if I have made an appointment with you, and have no right to throw away your time, if I do my own."

Some may inquire, "Who was Joseph Baxendale?" He was, in fact, Pickford and Co., the name of a firm known all over England, as well as throughout the Continent. Mr. Baxendale was the son of a physician at Lancaster. He received a good education, went into the cotton trade, and came up to London to represent the firm with which he was connected. A period of commercial pressure having occurred, he desired to leave the cotton trade and to enter upon some other business. Mr. Pickford had already begun the business of a Carrier, but he was hampered by want of money. Mr. Baxendale helped him with capital, and for a time remained a sleeping partner; but finding that the business made no progress, princ.i.p.ally for want of management, he eventually determined to take the active part in working and managing the concern.

He threw his whole energies into the firm of Pickford and Co. He reorganized the agencies, and extended them throughout the kingdom. He put flying vans upon the road, equal to our express trains; and slow vans, equal to our goods trains. He utilized the ca.n.a.ls to a large extent, putting on flying boats between all the larger towns. Indeed the roads of the country were then so bad, that in certain seasons it was almost impossible to convey merchandize from one part of the country to another.

The carrying on of such an important and extensive business required much capital, great energy, and first-rate business management. The horses necessary to carry on the traffic were increased from about fifty, which they were in the time of Pickford, to more than a thousand; for relays of horses were necessary at all the stopping-places on the line of traffic, between London and Manchester, between London and Exeter, and between London and Edinburgh. A ship-building yard was established, where all the boats, flying and slow, required to carry on the business, were constructed at Mr. Baxendale's expense.

The carrying business required a great deal of personal supervision.

Only a man of determined spirit and indomitable energy could have done it. He had a flying boat in which he rapidly pa.s.sed along the ca.n.a.ls, seeing that the men were at their posts, that the agents were at work, and the traffic duly provided for. He did this by night as well as by day. At other times, he would fly along the roads in his special travelling carriage,--always paying the highest prices to the innkeepers, in order that he might secure the best horses, and avoid delay and loss of time. He would overtake his vans, and see that his men were sober, and that they were well forward at the stations along the road; that their blunderbusses were loaded (for highway robbery was then one of the risks of travelling by road), that the agents were doing their duty, and that everything was in proper order.

Besides overtaking the vans, he would sometimes travel by a by-road--for he knew nearly every road in the country--push on, and then double back upon his drivers, who never knew whether he was before or behind them; and thus general vigilance became the rule of all. By these and various other means the business of the concern was admirably done, and the carrying trade of the country was brought to as high a state of perfection as was compatible with the then state of the roads and ca.n.a.ls.

When all this had been accomplished, the disturbing influence of railways began. "I see mischief in these confounded iron roads," said the Duke of Bridgewater. But the time for railways had arrived, and they could not be postponed. The first railroads were used for the conveyance of coals from the pits to the seaside, where they were shipped for London. Then it was proposed that they should be laid for the conveyance of goods from town to town; and the largest traffic being in Lancashire, one of the first railways was constructed between Liverpool and Manchester, from which towns they were afterwards constructed in all directions throughout the country.

Had Mr. Baxendale resisted the new means of conveyance, he would, before long, have been driven off the road. But he clearly foresaw the ultimate triumph of the railway system; and he went with it, instead of against it. He relieved the Liverpool and Manchester Company of a great deal of trouble, by undertaking to manage their goods' traffic and by collecting and delivering it at both towns. Then, when the railways from Warrington to Birmingham and from Birmingham to London were projected, he gave evidence before the committees of Parliament, in proof of the estimated traffic. And when the lines were made, he transferred the goods from his carrying vans to the railway. He thus became a great railway carrier, collecting and delivering goods in all the cities and towns served by the railways which had by that time become established.

He also became a large shareholder in railways. His status in the South-Eastern line was so great, that he was invited to become chairman of the company. He was instrumental, in conjunction with the late Sir William Cubitt, in pushing on the line to Dover. But the Dover Harbour Board being found too stingy in giving accommodation to the traffic, and too grasping in their charges for harbour dues, Mr. Baxendale at once proceeded, on his own responsibility, to purchase Folkestone Harbour as the port of the South-Eastern Company. He next proceeded to get up the Boulogne and Amiens Railway, which was for the most part constructed with English capital; and the direct line from London to Paris was thus completed.

His arduous labours in connection with his own business, as well as with railway extension, having thrown him into ill-health, he went abroad for repose. While absent, a faction was got up in Liverpool for the purpose of appointing another chairman in his stead; and though he was unseated by a trick, he himself accepted his dismissal with pleasure. His sons were now able to help him in the conduct of his business, though he continued to the close of his life to take an interest in everything that was going on. He was never weary of well-doing; he never rested in giving his good advice, the results of his large experience, to the a.s.sistants, clerks, and working men employed in his various offices. We conclude our brief notice of his life by giving another of his "Run-and-Read Sermons," which he distributed plentifully among his _employes_, and had affixed in various portions of his warehouses. It was ent.i.tled "Good Maxims and Advice."

"An old servant of the concern observed, a short time ago, that he began life in the employ of Pickford, upon low wages, and that by frugality and industry he had gained a competency. His maxim was, never to spend more than ninepence out of every shilling. Although this may appear a trifle, recollect that it is five shillings in twenty, ten pounds in forty.

"Suppose a young man to pursue this system: Let him obtain the first twenty pounds, add each year ten pounds, he will at the end of six years be possessed of upwards of one hundred pounds. If in early life the opportunity is suffered to pa.s.s, it rarely happens that one can save money when more advanced in years.

"The concern in which we are engaged has been defrauded by those who have for thirty years received salaries, the savings from which, had they followed the plan that is recommended, would have placed them in situations of comparative affluence; and we should now have seen them respectable members of society.

"Upon industry and frugality our well-doing depends. It is not great talents, but steady application, that is required. There are none of us that may not obtain stations of respectability. 'G.o.d helps them that help themselves.' 'He that follows pleasure instead of business will shortly have no business to follow.'

"I frequently complain of what may be called trifles, but from these arising frequently, we are at length lost. Let each attend to his respective duties; keep the appointed hours; and never defer till to-morrow what may be done to-day.