CH. VII THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE 263

suffering and degradation; and though, for the most part, our commerce and our national habits of industry preserve us from a similar paralysis, yet it would be wise to consider whether the forms of employment which we chiefly adopt or promote, are as well calculated as they might be to improve and elevate us.

We have just spent, for instance, a hundred and fifty millions, with which we have paid men for digging ground from one place and depositing it in another. We have formed a large class of men, the railway navvies, especially reckless, unmanageable, and dangerous. We have maintained besides (let us state the benefits as fairly as possible) a number of ironfounders in an unhealthy and painful employment; we have developed (this is at least good) a very large amount of mechanical ingenuity; and we have, in fine, attained the power of going fast from one place to another. Meantime we have had no mental interest or concern ourselves in the operations we have set on foot, but have been left to the usual vanities and cares of our existence. Suppose, on the other hand, that we had employed the same sums in building beautiful houses and churches. We should have maintained

be-in comparison of England-where the young men could afford the time and the money to spend in cafés from eleven to one, who with us would be compelled to work for their bread. He blushed considerably, and said it always happened more on Saturday, which was a kind of holiday. ‘Then,’ I said, ‘on Sunday-to-morrow-of course you go to church.’ ‘Jamais,’ he answered, but not in a spirit of bravado: on the contrary, looking fidgetty and uncomfortable. ‘Never at all?’ I said. ‘Jamais.’ ‘Then, I suppose you do not believe in God.’ ‘Oh yes, certainly.’ ‘Well, but then do not the priests tell you that you should go to church?’ ‘Ah yes, but enfin, ce n’est pas la coutume içi.’ ‘Well,’ I said, looking all the while very innocent, and as if I asked for information-’then, of course you say your prayers in the morning and when you go to bed?’ He looked round at this to his companions who were still drinking their beer, but had left off their game at cards to listen. The question was received with a laugh indeed, but not an insolent one (as I expected); they seemed very much astonished and a good deal ashamed and partly puzzled to know what I was at, and partly amused at the evident discomfort of the person immediately addressed, who replied hesitatingly, ‘Non, non, nous ne prions jamais, c’est à dire-enfin-on fait la prière quand on est triste.’”

Ruskin carried his missionary enterprise further, and meeting the same young man again a day or two after, “ventured to suggest to him that he would find the Bible a very interesting book, and ... reading it quite as entertaining as card-playing in the morning.”]

[Version 0.04: March 2008]