ROBERT RAIKES.

Press, Volume LXVI, Issue 20038, 20 September 1930, Page 5

ROBERT RAIKES.

AN EIGHTEENTH CENTURY BEAU. FOUNDATIONS OF THE MODERN SUNDAY SCHOOL. (SPSOAU.S WBITTBS FOB TBZ PRESS.) [By Thb Rev. L. McMasteb, B.D.] This is the first of a series of articles written exclusively for Thb Press, and supplied by the New Zealand Council of Religious Education, to commemorate the work of Robert Raikes. the founder, in 1780, of the modern Sunday Bchool.

L We live in an age of which we may well be proud. NVver before were the conditions of life so healthful for the mind and body of the great mas' of the people. Our education system has beln made universal. Our hospital adminißtratiou has evolved lapidly. The treatment of criminals has become more expert and humane. The living condi tions of the workers who constitute the vast majority of citizens have been greatl> ameliorated by shortei hours, ■<etter pay, and br.ghtei and\ healthiei homes and workshops. The worst form of slavery, child slavery, has been completely uprooted. A.nd what is best of all—we are not standing still, but moving by rapid strides towards yet greater perfection. Yes, we have every reason to rejoice in the accomplishments of this twentieth century of grace. The Pioneers Many of the advantages we accept to-day with far too little sense of appreciation are the results of seeds sown by the pioneers of scientific- knowledge and social betterment away back in the eighteenth century. For the seed must be in the soil long before the flower is in the sun. A formidable list of these seed planters could be given. The names of some outstanding social workers, however, rush to the memory. There are the slave-emaneipaturs Gran ville Sharp, and William Wilberforce. The prison -reformer, John Boward. who died a martyr to his ideals far from home in Rußsia. The pioneer-missionary William Carey. The religious reformers, Wesley and Whitefield, and the education champions including Raikes and Hannah More. These early crusaders in the cause of humanity also prepared the way for the noble hospital work of Florence Nightingale, who followed some years later. The Brutal Babble. The soil on which these early workers laboured was most stubborn and unpromising. The social and moral conditions of the people in 18th century England were staggering and almost beyond belief. There was no large and prosperous middle-class, but only the landed gentry at one pole of society an<* the great masses of ragged and brntal:Bed wage-slaves at the other. Between the two extremes there were a very few substantial merchants and citizens. The streets of the cities were Barrow and filth-strewn with the offal swept from the doors and emptied from the windows of the houses. Robbery and crime flourished in the darkness of the alleys at night. The people were often scantily clad in the ragged castoff clothes of their "betters" and were glad of a piece of old sacking to keep their shoulder? warm. The farm hand was paid 5d a day, and the carpenter and mason 6d and Is. The poor barber was foreed to blunt his razor on a bristly chin for the meagre reward of a single penny. Children of tendei years were eommonly sent out to work long (tours. \s tVicv received no echoo?. ing whatever the great majority of the peonle were quite illiterate. Their profanity. of cotirße, was in inverse pto portion to their education—it was very groat. Their language was habitually foul and the little children were not slow to imitate their elders. Long hours, noor pay. and bad conditions had their effects on the lives of the people. The prevailing vices of gambling and drunkenness added to the general depravity and wretchedness. The Law. Instead of regulating and reducing crime by a wise administration of jus-' tice, the law adopted a policy of vindictive and unreasoning vengeance. The fiendish action of the Nabob of Bengal, in crowding his English prisoners into the Black Hole of Calcutta was almost rivalled every day in the gaols of England. As many as fifty prisoners, regardless of age, sex, and condition, would be herded into a dungeon 16ft. square. Those who escaped the gaolfever often died of famine, or were put to the toiture with thumb-screw and iron skull-cap*. I ' For begging and quarrelling, women and men alike were dragged from' a cart-tail through the streets and publicly flogged. Monday was "Hangingday," and parties were made up to witness the execution of those guilty of stealing anything from a handkerchief to a fortune. Such scenes demoralised the people, who became so used to the sight of suffering that : the wells of human compassion were almost completely dried ap in them. The citizens of London in particular, became known as "the most odious and brutal rabble In Europe." Scant sympathy was shown with the sick and infirm in many cases. Inmates of mental hospitals were frequently flogged, and even the reigning- monarch, George 111. did not escape this barbarity when- be became mentally afflicted. The Church. The one source from which the, people might fairly have looked for succour was the Church. But the Church could not help them because it momentarily shared the general decadence. Spiritually the Church was as dead as a dodo, and remained so till Wesley and Whitefield roused it to life again. The Bible was little known and seldom taught. In the whole parish of Cheddar, Han nab More found bnt one copy, and that was used to prop up a flower-pot. The Universities of the day taught habits of conviviality rather than of diligence and study, and so the clergy were affected. Many of them were heavy eaters and hard drinkers, who neglected to visit the sick and were often "too busy" to administer the last rites to the dead. They would sometimes bring a gun to church, don a cassock over their hnntingf-coat, through the service, and then; go off for a day's shooting. George Crabbe describes one thus: 'A Jo-rial voutb who thinks his Sunday task As much aa God and man can fairly a*k." In many cases the reformers mat with opposition rather than help from the Church. Even devout men were content to leave the work of world-better ment to Providence. It was not for <:bem to interfere. When William Carey spoke up for foreign missions at North hampton, one man sprang to his feet and said: "Young man, sit down! When God pleases to convert the heathen. He will do it without your help ormine!" It is to be feared the. church turned

the same deaf ear to the cry of the suffering people at home that she did to the heathen abroad. A Gay Macaroni Amidst such scenes of vice and. tjquaior in the city of Gloucester, there .ralked with mincing swagger a gay young beau or "macaroni'' of the day. &, handsome (allow with a great mop of light brown curly hair, a fair skin, and blue attractive eyes. He is exquisitely dressed in laced coat, silk hose, and shoes with diamond-studded buckles; and he carries it all "as to the manner born." He is Robert Raikes, the "Printer" of the "Gloucester Jour-, nal." People think he is vain and conceited. But the real oharacteristic of this man is that he courts cleanliness and beauty with all the ardour of a lover, and hiates nastiness in all its forms with the deep intensity of a cultured and sensitive mind. We see him one morning, leaving his neat house in Bell Lane. He picks his steps down the path to the gate. Here he actually employs a man to sweep the filth off the narrow street and make a special track for him to walk on. His steps lead him, strangely and yet not st'angely, to one of the ugliest places in history—the city gaol. This fussy beau is not content to sweep the street. He must clean up the moral filth as well. He first pleads with the gaoler for the prisoners and. gives him his purse. Then he enters the reeking, crowded cells, and cheers the prisoners, promising to send them food. He studies then, closely as he speaks to them. At length he comes out of the gates, stands for a moment with bead bowed in thought, then spears bis tasseled <}ane into the navement, and mutters emphatically, 'fVice is preventable!" Children First. One Sunday he visits the poor quarters of the city. He is filled with horror at the sight of the wretched children fighting and swearing on the streets. He knows he cannot make the golden age out of leaden men, and deeides then and there that the hope of the future lie's in helping the children. He adds another phrase to his verdict at tho * prison. "Vice is prevontable—begin with the child." So he begins Every Sunday when the children are free. from their work he gathers them around him in a cottage and starts a school. The one condition of admission is-that aboy Yhaads

and face must be well washed and his haii brushed—never mind about the ragged clothes. All the morning they are there. Next he leads them to church, and then releases them an hour for luaeh. AH the afternoon they are back again. He teaehes them their A.8.0., so that ,they may learn to road and to understand the Book that guides his life wd wakes him bate afl-oasti-

nesa and desire only what is eleu lovely. Bobert Bailees, the dandy, is toying-*the ° foandatdoa of'Sw DodiWji Sunday School, and the modern system of free education.