My Brother's Execution. 'No, no, I leave it to you. God help her, poor soul!' So I went and told my mother, with many softening words, though I felt my fears strongly belie my hopes. To my great comfort, she indignantly received the idea; Harry a murderer? You should be ashamed of yourself, Frank,you, who pretended to love him so much, to breathe a word of this kind in my ear! Do you suppose I don't know how things may be misrepresented? If he is coming, as I pray God he may be, home again to us, poor dear, he shall have his mother's heart warm and ready for him, even if his brother does think hardly of him.' But it was sadly too true that Harry Longford had been taken up on suspicion; and true, alas! that there were traces of blood on those worn garments and that blue cap of his; true, that a knife also, stained and smeared, was found on him; true, that he and his companion had been drinking with the old farmer on the night of the murder; and, as fresh inquiries were made and more of the facts elicited at the inquest, the evidence attached guilt more certainly to my poor brother's proceedings. I visited him at once. I offered bail for him to a considerable amount, but it was refused; the magnitude of the offence forbade its acceptance, and he was fully committed for trial. At first sight I hardly recognized Harry, so much had strong drink altered him. He was peevish and silent when I spoke to him, but my strong love and pity thawed and subdued him, as I convinced him, by word and action, as far as I possibly could, of my never-dying love. At length he told me his dreadful story. He had become a gambler in Jon, and, after a long run of ill-luck, ad determined to come back to his old home, and see if we would receive him again. On the way, stopping to drink at a public-house, he had met with the old farmer, and had proposed to play cards with him, confident of his own superior skill, and, therefore, carelessly staking his last money on it; much to his mortification-for he was now pennilesshe lost. The dreadful thought of robbery occurred to him as he sat, his reason and conscience beclouded by the drink that he had so easily obtained in that house, licensed by a Christian government to sell poisonous beverages that destroy innocence and morality. Still, murder was far enough from his intention; 'Nor,' said Harry, 'could it 375 have entered my heart had I not continued to drink till I was reckless of what I did, and insensible to the awful consequences. Believe me, Frank,' and he spoke with the old earnestness and sweetness of his boyhood, 'I would sooner have killed myself if I had been sober, than have murdered that old man ; ah! the drink, the drink has ruined me; oh! brother! that I had but taken your advice in that temperance meeting long ago, and signed the pledge. I have wished a thousand times since that I had not refused your wish, then I had not thus wrought my destruction for this world and the next. What do father and mother say?' I told my brother the words of his poor, patient mother, and the young man wept bitterly;- Let her think mo innocent if you can, Frank, it would kill her to know me guilty. Oh! those cursed drinkshops, where I have been lured on and on, till death and damnation are close upon my track!' I did not answer these passionate words, but I vowed vengeance in my inmost soul against the drink-traffic for evermore. It was not long that I could keep the dreadful truth from my parents-not long before they knew all, and asked eagerly for every particular of their son's disgrace, their son's crime. For a long time he shrank from an interview with them. I can't, Frank,' he said, 'I can't see them, especially mother, unless you have mercy on me, and smuggle me in a drink of brandy to steady my nerves.' But I insisted on his being more cowardly than our poor mother, if he refused what she felt would be a consolation to her; and though I gave my brother no brandy, yet I pitied rather than blamed him for the haunting remorse that had led him to beg it of me. How shall I describe that interview? How picture the meeting between the victim of the legalized drink-traffic, now become the murderer of his fellow, and the sickly, broken-hearted mother, of whose heart and eyes, but a few years ago, ho had been the light and pride? Only twenty-two years before, Harry had nestled an innocent baby in his mother's bosom, and since then, how much of promise he had given, fair hopes that had all been destroyed hopelessly, helplessly, like some sweet floweret which the mower's all-devouring scythe fells ruthlessly to the earth. I cannot paint that terrible scene; it is one of the darkest pictures over which memory lingers. I I can only say that I bore my mother fainting from the prison, to lie down on the bed of death in her once sweet home; my father, prematurely old with sorrow, tottered after me, and the groan of Harry's breaking heart reverberated through the gloom as the turnkey relocked his cell after our departure. The trial followed. No expense was spared by my father to save his son from the gallows; but it was all in vain. The law, by that strange inconsistency of action which is a disgrace to the Christianity it professes, first licensed men to supply our Harry with strong drink, and then took his life for the offence against it to which that drink had prompted him. I was often with my brother during the last few weeks of his young and misspent life; often with him, recalling to him all the scenes of our boyhood, every circumstance of that life which seemed to him like some pure, golden dream, from which he had had, poor fellow, a rude and terrible awakening. A sense of penitence was visible enough in his altered manner, his humility, his contrition, but he could not forgive the government of his country, that had allowed the tempters of their fellows to evil to set up at almost every corner, and in every street, their temptations to crime. Frank,' he would say, as I sat beside him, there are hundreds now at this very moment being led astray just as I have been, young men who are as determined, at first, to go right as I used to be when I first went to old Jones's public-house. I never meant to take too much; I never thought that he was setting a trap for me when he first asked me in to play my flute and sing. And that is how most young men are led away by what is to them a favourite amusement. Some entice you to cards, others to skittles, others to chess, others to clubs, others to dancing, others to music: they have temptations for every disposition, and few see at the beginning into what they will be lured. I know you warned me, brother, and why did I not take heed, you are thinking; wel', perhaps, if you had heard how all my companions treated your warnings, how the landlords persuaded me that you were jealous of my talents, you would wonder less at your poor foolish Harry.' Between the assizes at which Harry's doom had been sealed and the carrying out of the sentence, a fortnight later, our mother died. Through all the wanderings of her mind in that last sad illness, her one thought had been of her child. At one time she was rejoicing in his infant beauty, with all the sweet pride of a young and loving mother, clasping him in imagination to her bosom with many a word and smile of endearment, talking to him in baby language of the flowers and birds and sunshine; and then she would enumerate, as if addressing some kindly neighbour, all his wondrous abilities, his marvellous cleverness, and her bright hopes of his future. Anon the dread reality seemed to flash across her brain with the lurid light of despair, and she moaned and shrieked piteously, and wrung her thin hands in agony, whilst her whole frame shook, and the drops of perspiration stood on her pale forehead, and, disturbing the silent watches of the night, came the low cry of pain from those parched lips, 'Save him, save my Harry from the gallows." After her death our poor father, whose sternness and manliness had long since given way, was reduced to a state of maudlin sorrow; his second childhood had come upon him, years before, in the order of nature, we had any reason to fear or expect so sad and beclouded an evening to his calm and well-ordered life. I felt bitterly as I grasped my brother's trembling hand, when I gave him the sad tidings, that henceforward my home could be nothing to me, save a cemetery full of the graves of lost joys and buried pleasures; and when I had taken leave of Harry, and knew that the last sun had set for my young brother, life wore a mantle of deepest, darkest hue, that Time, as I looked forward to its onward course, seemed to possess no power to remove. The next morning was wild and stormy. The wind had howled all night around my humble lodging in the busy town like the requiem of the dead, or the plaintive farewell monotone of the dying, and I had lain awake listening to it, and thinking of my brother. The double execution of Harry and his accomplice attracted a vast crowd from the surrounding towns and villages. It is an excitement comparatively rare to see two men murdered in broad daylight, and that legally. The executioner has need of especial adroitness, for the crowd becomes especially impatient, and so it was on that awful morning. I watched the culprits taking part alive in their funeral procession; I saw our Harry's white face and drooping head and Debt Amongst the Working Classes. and listless form; I beheld the clergyman and all the dread paraphernalia of that scene; and, looking around me, I beheld the upturned faces of the thousands who had come to see my brother die; to laugh, perchance, at his quivering lips, his nerveless step, to report that he had not died like a man,' that he did not show any pluck.' How should he, with his mother's death, and his wasted life standing in their fearful significance, and in the light of another world before him, besides that other spectral form-the murdered man? Coarse laughter, wicked oaths, dreadful jests met my ear on every hand; hawkers of cakes and apples and ginger beer plied their business, and people bought of them, and ate and drank, thus filling up the time of waiting for my brother's agony; and betting men and pugilists, whose whole existence seemed to be animal versus intellectual; and publicans come to behold one result of their lucrative and respectable and lawhonoured traffic; and women and children with no youth, nor tenderness, nor modesty, nor softness in their hard unnatural faces; and rough collier lads, and men, fresh from loom and engine and factory, made up that great crowd. But some few, thank God, there were who tried to show the people the evil, the vice of drunkenness, the danger of tampering with strong drink, and the magnitude and worth of their immortal souls, gaining their heedless ears by most persuasive eloquence. And then, as I looked again at Harry, and thought how sweet had been the smile of that child-face, that had lain 377 on my shoulder as I carried him across the moorland in our happy childhood, my eyes overflowed, the blessed relief of tears came at last to my fevered brain. A heavy thud, followed by the shrieks of women, sounded upon the ear. I looked again, the drop had fallen, and the two quivering forms hung motion less from the beam. Harry was dead. I pressed my handkerchief to my eyes, and then, in sight of that lifeless body, consecrated myself before God to help by purse and pen and effort to amend the unjust liquorlaws of our country, which, affording every protection to the maker and seller of strong drink, offers no security whatever to the unhappy victim. My brother and his companion, under the influence of brain poison, supplied to them by a certain legalized trafficker in that poison, had killed the farmer; but whilst their two lives were sacrificed to the bloodthirsty goddess of Justice in return for his, no mention was made of the man who had sold them the drink, whilst they were already excited by previous potations, and who had done this for no other reason than to fill to greater overflowing his ample pockets. And is this Christian England, where man is thus legalized to play the part of vampire on the health, the morality, and the religion of his fellows? Harry! my brother! as I love the memory of our youth, as I pity thy fall, as I blame thy destroyer, so do I vow to dedicate my life to the extinction of that foe of my race to which thine has been sacrificed. SOCIAL SCIENCE SELECTIONS. TENDENCIES OF DEBT AMONGST THE WORKING CLASSES. A very large proportion of the working people are constantly in debt, and very much of the misery that prevails among them is owing to this circumstance. Their wages are regularly required to defray past expenses; and new liabilities must be incurred to obtain their current requirements. Persons who give credit to the working people are mainly an inferior class of tradesmen, who are themselves seldom in a position to purchase at the best markets, and the precarious trade they conduct, with its multitude of bad debts, compels them to charge a very high price for the commodities they supply. The female portion of a working man's family commonly make the serious mistake of purchasing their articles of clothing from tallymen, and pay, by a succession of small instalments, frequently about five per cent. cent. upon the amount at each payment. It is obvious that the time, trouble, and risk of conducting business upon this system must require extreme profits. Not extreme, perhaps, taking the circumstances into account; but very excessive as compared with ready money transactions. Further imprudence is exemplified by resorting to the pawnbroker. It occurs often that pledges are not redeemed, and articles of great importance to the pawner are sacrificed for a mere trifle. Many people make a constant practice of pawning their goods; and even of pledging their best wearing apparel weekly,-pawning on Monday morning, and redeeming it on Saturday night to be worn on Sunday. The interest paid in each instance may seem but trifling, and amply repaid by the accommodation rendered; but these frequent little payments in the space of twelve months accumulate to a sum of considerable importance to a working man; equal at a moderate computation to a week's earnings. Being in debt only to the amount of a few weeks' wages, will depress the condition of a working man equally with a considerable reduction of his earnings. The purchasing power of his pound per week is certainly not greater than sixteen shillings in the hands of a man having a little money in advance. To keep free from debt is of the utmost importance, and to a person behindhand it is worth making every effort, if he values the future comfort, to extricate himself from his difficulties, but it requires determination and self-denial to do so, as liquidating a debt honestly is much harder to accomplish than to save a sum of money equal to it when disencumbered. The effect of debt, beyond the means of easy payment, upon all people, is to produce a direct moral degradation. Lying, the parent of all other vices, is employed for the purpose of postponing payment. The man has been disappointed in not receiving all manner of imaginary sums, and he will certainly pay from the first that he receives,' knowing that he has nothing to receive that an arrear of wages is due to him,' although he has overdrawn his earnings. Such, and innumerable other promises and subterfuges are employed. Excuses and evasions are, at first, made with some kind of compunction; but that soon wears away, and ultimately merit is claimed for skilful deception. The next step in dishonesty is scheming to evade payment altogether, and then by any kind of cunning to obtain property on credit; but without the slightest intention of discharging the debt. It is easy to conceive the downward tendency of such a course. Self-respect soon becomes obliterated, and the opinion of others disregarded. These checks upon evil possessions and vicious propensities being removed, a disregard of the decencies of society is often made a subject of exultation. With the struggle to get on from day to day home becomes neglected, being void of comfort, and the few miserable articles it contains constantly liable to seizure. The children are dragged up in filth and depravity, and the female portion often waste more time in running after charitable doles than would suffice to earn double their amount. This is not a picture of the imagination, but one that may be realized throughout the country but too frequently.-Cash versus Credit, by GEORGE HURST; Social Science Review. PAWNBROKERS. In Great Britain there are about 2,500 pawnbrokers. In London, 375; in Manchester, 220; in Liverpool, 130; in Birmingham, 100. Other cities and towns, east, west, north, and south, divide the rest. There is scarcely a town in which a market is held, however small the number of inhabitants, but possesses the well-known sign. Some of these establishments, like a good country curate, do duty for a very extensive district. You will perceive by the figures quoted, that our country towns are better supplied than London; it is, however, only in number, as some of the London London houses could swallow many of the country ones without experiencing half the inconvenience an alderman does after a city dinner. Every pawnbroker must take a license, and then is limited to pledges on which not more than £10 is advanced-all beyond that requires a special contract, and a stamped agreement, with special terms, as profitable, in the stamp to Her Majesty's Exchequer, as it is secure for the contracting parties. Until lately, all duplicates for pledges under 5s. were given free of cost, above that sum a halfpenny was charged. But the large quantity of small pledges, and the labour involved (pawnbrokers say) rendered that an unprofitable part of their business, and, as unity gives power, they formed a society for the redress of grievances-agitated quietly from Land's End to John o' Groats, prepared a bill for the consideration of Queen, Lords, and Commons, and adopting the cry, 'the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the Bill,' saw their efforts triumphant, and celebrated their victory by a glorious dinner, and potations of champagne and port, which made some eyes brilliant, and probably some hands unsteady. It is only right to say, their new law contains but one clause, which gives them the power to charge a halfpenny for every ticket when the pledge is under 10s., and to retain the old charge when above. Most, however, give the ticket when the sum lent is under Is. I am not able to say the minimum sum with which a profitable trade may be done; competent judges consider the average amount employed to be £5,000. Some have as much as £80,000. These, of course, are but fewthe big-wigs of the profession, who merit, by the extent of their trade, the title of Great Uncle.' Taking the average at £5,000, will give us over twelve millions employed, and circulated, as it is, at least three times a year, shows that their trade or profession has no little to do with the hard cash jingling in your pockets or dropped in your tills. THE DOLLY SHOP. There is another branch or class in the family, who are far too numerous, and exercise too great an influence to be passed over. I refer to dollyshop keepers. These gentry are well known to city missionaries and policemen, and are watched as carefully as a cat watches a mouse. Like their more respectable relations, they mount no sign, and are not distinguishable to the general public. Money-lending with these is on a very small scale; and is but the smallest portion of their business.. Some do an extensive trade, and never lend any. It is pleasant to be charitable, especially when it costs nothing. But these defy the utterance of even a good word. He who would speak in their praise would deserve an action for slander. They live above law. The keenest Chancellor of the Exchequer cannot touch them. They have a license of their own, above law, which of course costs nothing. They nominally purchase every article brought to them, in reality, take all in pledge. They give no duplicate, and are not responsible for the return of anything. Still, self-interest, if no higher motive, generally keeps them to their bargain. As stated, they buy; and the seller may repurchase within a week or a fortnight, at a good profit, of course, in lieu of interest. The injustice of the transaction is manifest, as their customers are too poor or too vicious to help themselves. If not redeemed at the specified time, any article may be sold; and the profit, much or little, is pocketed. These receptacles of anything and everything only exist in localities where destitution and vice abound. Sometimes they have the appearance of marine stores, or what they really are, old clothes shops. Sometimes they are coupled with a chandler's shop, and a profitable trade is driven, as the parties who leave their goods are compelled to take in return what is there sold-it may be table-beer, alias swipes, strengthened, flavoured, and coloured by some brewer's |