Some of you may know me yet some of you may not… some of you may catch my name see my face or hear my voice echoing from the window sills of every London printer! & yet some of you stand here confused or simply in denial of the current situation… my name is John Edward Taylor of Great Britain & all of her glory! I stand before you as a former student, a teacher, a journalist, & a Quaker. I have seen my share of hardships you have shared, I have pushed the silver spoon from my tongue & I have raised my own child with as much love & affection as any father who sits before me! & I will return home to him knowing that I have done something for his future!
In this world live many evils! & be it to each of your contents or otherwise discontent, I’d inform you that the use of children as hard labour is one of them! But was it not a simple yank who scribbled on a sheet called “common sense” that “Government, even in its best state, is but a necessary evil; in its worst state, an intolerable one.” & yet we cheer & rave over its virtues! Can one not say that such a necessary darkness exists in child labour? Is it not as well common sense, that it serves better to our youth to eat & live than starve & die in the embrace which you would employ to protect them!? We live in a world of power & balance, a god blessed queen, guided by her parliament, a god blessed parliament, guided by common bloke, but we see these towering factories, these billowing mines with nary a guide or regulation to support them. We see a two sided coin in the labour of our youth, but we find the pounds to feed their mouths scarcer & scarcer, so what will we do? Work ourselves unto our own graves; send them overseas, stop child birth all together!? No, some of you have already found a solution. It includes a building, bleak & tall packed with other boys of relative age, to some this is h*ll, to others a paradise where they lavish in oat cakes & potato pies! This is not the life of luxury, tis neither a tray of butter nor a morsel of tea in sight, with the promise of bread & cheese all but once a year! Where a child can play he can assemble a watch, when a child can walk he can clear a mine, but is this really desirable? I will answer no to such an inquiry, but I must ask you, what better is the latter option? This is a question of child labour tis not a matter of forced slavery! The child you once held to your bosom can return to you any time he so desires, but he remains in the factory, he remains in the mine because as far as it goes to survival there is no other route! I insist upon our own blessed queen, our own just parliament to take a hand in holding this revolution together! To protect the children from injury so that they can protect their family from starvation! If you lock them out of the factories you in turn swallow the key to the bakery & open a door leading straight to the morgue! The situation is not pleasant; no it is rather gruesome but is reality! Your children, our children, England’s children can find a place in the dirt or the assembly line, all based on your decision! & choose wisely for our actions on this day will set the standard for the whole world for centuries to come, so I will state it once more & nary a phrase nor a sentence more; our children may wander to the factories & in turn they might I’ll say it once more “MIGHT” die, but to lock them out will guarantee their death.