
                                                                  »Love-Truths.«
 
The day arrived on which the masters were to have an interview with a deputation
of the work-people. The meeting was to take place in a public room, at an hotel;
and there, about eleven o'clock, the mill-owners, who had received the foreign
orders, began to collect.
    Of course, the first subject, however full their minds might be of another,
was the weather. Having done their duty by all the showers and sunshine which
had occurred during the past week, they fell to talking about the business which
brought them together. There might be about twenty gentlemen in the room,
including some by courtesy, who were not immediately concerned in the settlement
of the present question; but who, nevertheless, were sufficiently interested to
attend. These were divided into little groups, who did not seem by any means
unanimous. Some were for a slight concession, just a sugar-plum to quieten the
naughty child, a sacrifice to peace and quietness. Some were steadily and
vehemently opposed to the dangerous precedent of yielding one jot or one tittle
to the outward force of a turn-out. It was teaching the work-people how to
become masters, said they. Did they want the wildest thing hereafter, they would
know that the way to obtain their wishes would be to strike work. Besides, one
or two of those present had only just returned from the New Bailey, where one of
the turn-outs had been tried for a cruel assault on a poor north-country weaver,
who had attempted to work at the low price. They were indignant, and justly so,
at the merciless manner in which the poor fellow had been treated; and their
indignation at wrong, took (as it often does) the extreme form of revenge. They
felt as if, rather than yield to the body of men who were resorting to such
cruel measures towards their fellow-workmen, they, the masters, would sooner
relinquish all the benefits to be derived from the fulfilment of the commission,
in order that the workmen might suffer keenly. They forgot that the strike was
in this instance the consequence of want and need, suffered unjustly, as the
endurers believed; for, however insane, and without ground of reason, such was
their belief, and such was the cause of their violence. It is a great truth that
you cannot extinguish violence by violence. You may put it down for a time; but
while you are crowing over your imaginary success, see if it does not return
with seven devils worse than
