mber of a club
had money invested in his society--money there, instead of perishable
goods at home. Yet, in fact, that is not the case. His payments into the
club funds are no investment. They bring him no profit; they are not a
useful capital that can be renewed with interest. At the Christmas
"share-out" he does get back a part of the twenty-six shillings
contributed to the slate-club during the year; but the two pounds a
year paid to the benefit society are his no longer; they cannot be
"realized"; they are gone beyond reclaiming. Though he be out of work
and his family starving, he cannot touch the money; to derive any
advantage from it he himself must first fall ill. That is what the
modern thrift means to the labourer. It does nothing to further--on the
contrary, it retards--his prosperity; but it helps him in a particular
kind of adversity. It drains his personal wealth away, and leaves him
destitute of his capital; it robs his wife and children of his savings;
but in return it makes him one of a brotherhood which guarantees to him
a minimum income for a short time, if he should be out of health.

An oldish man, who had been telling me one evening how they used to live
in his boyhood, looked pensively across the valley when he had done, and
so stood for a minute or two, as if trying to recover his impressions of
that lost time. At last, with appearance of an effort to speak
patiently, "Ah," he said, "they tells me times are better now, but I
can't see it;" and it was plain enough that he thought our present times
the worse. So far as this valley is concerned I incline to agree with
him, although in general it is a debatable question. On the one hand, it
may be that the things a labourer can buy at a shop for fifteen
shillings a week are more in quantity and variety, if not better in
quality, than those which his forefathers could produce by their own
industry; and to that extent the advantage is with the present times.
But, on the other hand, the fifteen shillings are not every week
forthcoming; and whereas the old-time cottager out of work could
generally find something profitable to do for himself, the modern man,
having once got his garden into order, stands unprofitably idle.

Perhaps the worst is that, owing to the lowness of their wages, the
people have never been able to give the new thrift a fair trial. After
all, they miss the lump sums laid by against need. If their earnings
would ever overtake their