[1893.]

ART AND THE PEOPLE. [Paper read at the Birmingham Meeting of the
Social Science Congress.]

There is a passage in one of the letters of Edward Denison which exactly interprets the dejection and oppression certain to fall upon one who seriously considers and personally investigates, however superficially, the condition of the poor in great cities.  He writes from Philpott Street, Commercial Road, East London, and he says:  ’My wits are getting blunted by the monotony and ugliness of the place.  I can almost imagine the awful effect upon a human mind of never seeing anything but the meanest and vilest of men and man’s work, and of complete exclusion from the sight of God’s works.’  The very exaggeration of these words shows the profound dejection of the writer, at a moment when his resolution to continue living in a place where there was neither nature nor art, nor beauty anywhere, weighed upon him like a penal sentence, so that the vileness of the surroundings entered into his soul and made him feel as if the men and women in the place, as well as their works, were all alike, mean, vile, and sordid.  Edward Denison wrote these words seventeen years ago.  The place in which he lived is still ugly and monotonous, a small cross-street leading from the back of the London Hospital into the Commercial Road, about as far from green fields and parks or gardens as can be found anywhere in London; there are still a good many of the vilest of man’s works carried on in the neighbourhood, especially the making of clothes for Government contractors, and the making of shirts for private sweaters.  But something has been attempted since Denison came here—­the pioneer of a great invasion.  Many others have followed his example, and are now, like him, living among the people.  Clubs have been established, concerts and readings have been given, and excursions into the country, convalescent homes and a thousand different things have grown up for the amelioration of the poor.  Better than all, there are now thousands of educated and cultivated men and women who are perpetually considering how existing evils may be remedied and new evils prevented.  With philanthropic efforts, with the social questions connected with them, I have now nothing to do.  We are at present only concerned with a question of Art:  we are to inquire how the love and desire for Art may be introduced and developed, and to ask what has already been attempted In this direction.

I would first desire to explain that I know absolutely nothing about the state of things in any other great city of Great Britain than one.  What I say is based upon such small knowledge that I may have gained concerning London, and especially East London.  As regards Birmingham, Manchester, Sheffield, Glasgow, and any other place where there is a great industrial population, I know nothing.  If, therefore, exception be taken to any expressions of mine as applied to some other city, I beg it to be remembered that East London