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I
began this work in 1889 by building a lecture and reading room
in Blackwater, my native village.9
That was followed by a school and meeting-room at St. Day; by
a literary institute at Chacewater, and afterwards by a miners
and mechanics' institute at St. Agnes-all within three or four
miles of Blackwater. One reason why I supplied these buildings
was that the villages mentioned were closely interwoven with
recollections of boyhood's days and dreams |
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of time, as well as distance of space, lends enchantment to
many views and things. There is scarcely a more unromantic part
of Cornwall than the district in which these villages are situated.
But, when visited after the absence of half a century, or surveyed
through the telescope of memory, they appear mellow tinted.
Another reason was that London and other large towns are rapidly
growing, at the expense of the provinces and the ultimate strength.
of the nation. |
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If
London, as Cobbett said a hundred years ago, was the "wen
of civilisation," what is it now, when it is four or five
times as large? And what is it likely to become should it go
on increasing, in a similar ratio, for another hundred years?
If so, it will more likely carry with it probabilities of national
decay than certainties of national advancement. One reason why
so many gravitate to the large towns and tread so closely on
each other's heels is that village life is generally dull and
monotonous; and one way to make it more attractive would be
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to multiply village institutions, reading-rooms, clubs, and
recreations. This is a question more closely connected with
national well-being than is generally supposed, and entitled
to more attention than it has hitherto received. |
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