The time has arrived when the modes of administering the poor-law in England and Wales must undergo inquiry and revision. Twelve years have elapsed since the Poor-Law Amendment Act became the law of the land; and during the period many changes have been made. In many cases, the new arrangements of the Poor-Law Commissioners have been adopted without a murmur. In some cases, they have met with continued but fruitless opposition. In others, they have been resisted with success. During the whole period a war has raged, in which no two of the combatants have used the same weapons, or drawn them in the same cause. One has adduced particular cases of hardship, suffering, and death, as the results of the new system. Another has collected statistics, and referred to depauperised counties. And yet the same number of cases of hardship and suffering may have occurred before 1834, although unrecorded and unknown. Nor does it follow, because the official returns from agricultural counties may show a diminished number of paupers, or a diminished expenditure, that the residue have been able to earn their bread as independent labourers. No period appears to have been assigned when the results of the new system should be examined. Successive governments have kept aloof from fear, until an accident led to important disclosures, and an inquiry is now inevitable. The Poor-Law Commissioners have been invested with extraordinary and dangerous powers. They possess the united powers of Queen, Lords, and Commons. Their most imperfectly-considered resolutions have the force of an act of parliament, or rather, ten-fold more force—it being their duty, first, to ascertain what ought to be the law—then to make the law—then to enforce it—and then, after the elapse of time, to report upon its success or failure. It would be difficult for the wisest to exercise powers like these beneficially; and it is to be feared that abuses have crept in. And when we find that men, who have hitherto upheld the system, now demand inquiry in their place in parliament, and the ministers who were concerned in the establishment of the system, promising, either to withdraw opposition to the demand, or to amend the laws themselves so we may be assured that the topic at the present time, as regards the administration of Relief to the Poor in England and Wales, is Inquiry and Revision.

The subject matter of this article must be suggestive, rather than affirmative. Even at this time of day, it would be presumptuous to take up a commanding or decided position. The old system was rotten. The good it contained was choked up with weeds; the pruning-knife has been applied unsparingly; and it is to be feared that good wood has been cut away. New arrangements have been devised with practical shrewdness, to displace clearly recognised evils; but, with these practical improvements, certain economic theories have been speculatively, tried; and it is likely that evils have sprung up; so that those who proclaim so loudly that every part of the new arrangements is either naught or vicious, and those who affirm that the old methods were all good, are both remote from the truth, which, probably, lies somewhere between the two.

The subject being set apart for inquiry, the question arises—How can a subject which has so many phases be advantageously considered; to whom must we go for information; and to what matters should the attention be chiefly directed? It is to these questions this article will attempt to provide answers. To the first question—To whom must we go for information?—the answer is obvious. To all who are engaged in the administration of the law, and chiefly to those who have to do with those departments where evils may be supposed to exist. And, in order to answer the second, the subject must be divided into classes, and the mode of operation of the law in each must be sketched. The reader will then be able to see for himself, and judge whether the matters referred to are not those which most imperatively demand inquiry.

The several parishes, townships, chapelries, and hamlets of England and Wales, whether grouped into Unions or not, may be usefully distributed into three classes.

The First Class includes "parishes, townships, chapelries, and hamlets," grouped into Unions, in which the population bears a small proportion to the number of acres they comprise.

The Second Class includes small populous parishes, grouped into Unions, in which the population bears a large proportion to the number of statute acres they cover.

The Third Class consists of large single parishes, in which the population bears a large proportion to the number of acres.

The following diagram will explain this classification:

These divisions of territory may be regarded from different points of view. They may be seen through the media of statute-books, reports, returns, and statistics; or they may be actually surveyed. Each course has its peculiar dangers. The mind, occupied with matters of detail and routine occurrences, is apt to lose in comprehensiveness as much as it gains in minute exactness. To avoid this danger the mind must soar as the facts accumulate. It must regard them, sometimes from the height of one theory, and sometimes from the height of another. For the mind becomes tinged with the hue of whatever is frequently presented to it. Opinions even are hereditary. And every set of facts leads to a different conclusion, according to the texture of the minds they pass through. Refer to the facts connected with the condition of the poor, which have been proclaimed during the last few years; and then reflect to what contradictory opinions they have led. The man of strong benevolent feelings deduces one inference. The politico-economical theorist deduces another. And the man of practice and experience is as likely to be deluded as either. He sees destitution so frequently connected with imprudence, laziness, and crime, that he is apt to believe that the union is indissoluble. His mind has never embraced a general idea, or traced effects to causes, or distinguished them, the one from the other. And in this matter, where the causes and effects are so complicated, and entangled by their mutual reaction, he is likely to be at fault. Then the man of pure benevolence sees only the pain, and demands only the means of immediate relief. And the political economist tells us, "That the law which would enforce charity can fix no limits, either to the ever-increasing wants of a poverty which itself has created, or to the insatiable desires and demands of a population which itself hath corrupted and led astray."

In the First Class, the parishes are large, thinly populated, and situated generally in rural districts. In some cases, the Union includes a country town; the neighbouring parishes and hamlets being connected with it. The total number of parishes may be eighteen or twenty. In other cases, the Union consists of about twenty-five parishes, townships, hamlets, and chapelries. In some instances, the population of the parishes are collected into so many villages, which are distant from each other. In others, the entire surface of the country is sprinkled thinly with cottages. The communications are by high-roads, and muddy lanes, over high hills, and through bogs and marshes, and by bridle-roads and footpaths—

In each of these Unions, the management of the relief fund is confided to a Board, consisting of resident rate-payers, and resident country magistrates. The former are guardians by election, and the latter ex-officio. The Board is completed by the addition of the churchwardens and overseers. The chairman is generally the most distinguished, and the vice-chairman the most active man in the Union. The chairman regulates the proceedings of the Board, and ascertains its resolutions. The clerk records them. The relief which applicants are to receive, is determined by the Board; except that which is given by certain officers in cases of "sudden and urgent necessity." The management of the Union-house is invested in the master—a paid officer. His duties are ascertained and fixed. He is liable to dismissal by the joint resolution of the Poor-Law Commissioners and the Guardians, or by the order of the Commissioners alone. It is also the duty of the master to attend to such cases of destitution as may be presented at the Union-House gate; and, if their necessities be of a sudden and urgent character, to admit them into the house. It may be remarked here, that information is wanted upon this point. The question is not, by what general term may the cases be designated, whether sudden or urgent, but what the circumstances of the cases really are, which are so relieved. The answers to the question would throw light upon the relation subsisting between a strict work-house system and the increase of vagrancy. To continue. The sick poor are confided to the care of the medical officer; and the out-door relief is chiefly administered by the relieving-officer. His duties in rural Unions are as follows:—To pay or deliver such amounts of money or food as the Board may have ordered the poor to receive, at the villages, hamlets, and cottages where they may reside. He must visit the poor at their homes. He receives applications for relief; and when the necessity is sudden and urgent, he relieves the case promptly with food. He must report upon the circumstances of each case, and keep accounts. For neglect of duty, he is liable to penal consequences, and to dismissal, in the same way as the master. The average number of parishes, townships, and hamlets committed to the care of the relieving-officer may be about twenty. The reader may be able, from his local knowledge, to picture this Union, and give it a name.

The Union then consists of twenty parishes. The Union-house is pretty central, and situated near a small market-town. The meetings of the Board are held in the Union-house, and upon the market-day; because then the guardians, churchwardens, and overseers, after having transacted their private business, may conveniently perform their public duties. At the last meeting of the Board of Guardians, certain poor persons appeared before them, and were ordered to be relieved with money or food, at a specific rate, and for a specified time. The relieving-officer resides in that part of the Union from whence he can reach the most distant and opposite points with nearly equal facility. He divides his district into rounds, and each occupies the greatest portion of a day. At the end of each week he will have visited the whole of the twenty parishes.

The Board met yesterday, and to-day the relieving-officer's week began. By the conditions of his appointment, he must have a horse and chaise. The contractor for bread is bound to deliver it at the home of the pauper; he must therefore provide man and horse, and they accompany the relieving-officer. They set out on the first day's journey; they arrive at the first hamlet on the route, and stop at a cottage door. Around it and within it the destitute poor of the hamlet are assembled. Each receives his allowance of money and bread. But a group has collected about the door, whose names are not on the relief-list. One woman tells the relieving-officer that her husband is ill with fever, and her children are without food. He knows the family; he hastens down the lane, and across the field, and enters the labourer's hut. The man is really ill, and there are too evident signs of destitution. A written order is given on the medical officer to attend the case, and necessary relief is given. The man who now approaches the officer with such an air of overbearing insolence, or fawning humility, is also an applicant. He is known at the village beer-shop, and by the farmer as a man who can work, but will not; he is the last man employed in the parish; his hovel is visited—it is a scene of squalid misery. What is to be done? He may be relieved temporarily with bread, or admitted into the Union-house, or he is directed to attend the Board. The relieving officer then proceeds to his next station. There a larger supply of bread awaits him, for he is now in a populous parish. The poor of the place are assembled at the church door, and the relief is given in the vestry-room. The applications are again received and disposed of. He then rides to the cottages of the sick and the aged, and again continues his route. He does not proceed far before he is hailed by the labourer in the field, who tells him of some solitary person who is without medical aid. By-and-by, he is stopped by the boy who has long waited for him on the stile, and begs him to come and see his mother; and the farmer's man, on the farmer's horse, gives him further news of disease, destitution, or death. He completes his day's journey before the evening. To-morrow another route is taken; and thus he proceeds from day to day, and from month to month, through summer's heat and winter's cold.

The number of medical officers in a Union varies. In some cases, where there are two relieving-officers, there are four medical officers. The medical officer resides within the limits of the Union. He is not prevented from attending to his private practice, and he does not therefore reside in a central position, or at the nearest point to his pauper patients; he is supplied with a list of persons who are in receipt of relief, and he is bound to attend these without an order; he must also attend to cases upon the receipt of a written order from the relieving-officer or the overseer; he regulates the diet of his patients, and he is paid by a salary, and by fees in certain cases.

There are contradictory opinions respecting the efficiency of this system. Some say that the amount of remuneration is inadequate to insure qualified persons, and others that the qualifications are secured by the requisition of recognised diplomas.

If we inquire of those among the peasantry who have never received parochial relief, or even of the yeomanry, we find that in many districts, and especially those of which we are now speaking, it is a difficult matter to obtain immediate medical aid; and if this consideration have any weight, the system would appear satisfactory, providing always the overseers perform their duty when applied to. It would be desirable to ascertain whether there are any restrictions in the issue of medical orders. As regards relieving the poor with food, there are many who say, that, in so doing, the very evil is created which we are endeavouring to destroy. But this is not said with respect to medical relief. The labouring man with his family may earn an average wage of from 7s. to 12s. per week. The most prudent cannot save much, and those savings are invested in the purchase of a stack of wood, a sack of meal, a crop of potatoes, a stye of pigs, or a cow. His savings might enable him to provide food for his family during illness, but they would be totally insufficient to pay for medicine and medical aid. It would be desirable to ascertain where and to what extent medical clubs and dispensaries exist, and what means the agricultural labourer, in thinly populated districts, possesses for obtaining gratuitous medical aid.

It would be well, too, if Boards of Guardians would remember that their duties have not ended when they have disposed of the cases on each board-day. They have to do with pauperism, not only as it exists to-day, but as it may exist next month or next year; and therefore they have to do with its causes, as well as its existing results. This truth is just now occupying the minds of statesmen, and it is to be hoped that it may receive the attention of Boards of Guardians. Sanatory regulations will decrease pauperism. Many men have been destroyed, and their families pauperised, by uncovered sewers in thickly populated lanes and alleys; and much disease has been engendered by the want of facilities for cleanliness. And so also has much pauperism been engendered by the drain upon the resources of the poor man during a long illness. Could not this be remedied, and that without weakening the feeling of independence? And why might not a Board of Guardians be allowed, or compelled, to contribute a given sum to any dispensary or medical club which may be governed by certain rules duly certified?

We must now refer to the churchwardens and overseers of the several parishes of this rural Union. The question with respect to them is, do they receive the applications of the poor in their respective parishes, and deal with them in the same way as the relieving-officer? It would not be a sufficient answer to quote acts of parliament, or lists of duties. It is doubtless of importance to know that, according to law, the duty of relieving in cases of sudden and urgent necessity is still reserved to the overseer. But it is of equal importance to ascertain whether, in those extensive or thinly populated parishes where the relieving-officer may reside many a weary mile distant from the cottage of the destitute, any check, or hinderance, or heavy discouragement has been offered to the overseer in his attempt to perform his duty. We can easily conceive the farmer overseer, before 1834, riding over the fields of his parish, and meeting one of the poor cottagers, at once relieving him with a piece of money, and taking no further note of the circumstance than was necessary to prevent his forgetting to repay himself. And we can understand how the same overseer, under the new system, when men to whom he has been accustomed to look up with deference are united with him in the administration of relief, may not trouble himself to inquire into, or care to exercise, the rights reserved to him. Or he may find that he has something more to do than merely to enter the amount in his pocket-book. He may have to report the case to the relieving-officer, or to defend it at the Board—neither of which acts his literary habits, his opportunities, his patience, or his ability to speak before the magnates of his district in Board assembled, may dispose him to perform. In other cases, where these considerations may have no weight, the overseer may be of opinion, since paid officers have been appointed to do the duty, and are paid to do it, that they are the proper persons to perform it.

In thus referring to the duties of overseers, it must not be supposed that a recurrence to the old system is aimed at. It is a common opinion that the Union system is diametrically opposed to the old parochial system. And it seems to be too generally thought that relief should be given through paid agency. But this is not so. The power to relieve, in cases of sudden and urgent necessity, still rests with the overseers. But the law has deprived the overseer of the power to give permanent relief. It will not allow him to give a regular weekly allowance. The question the overseer has to do with is not whether labourer Miles shall receive, for a number of consecutive weeks or months, a certain sum, but whether he should not receive relief at this moment, his necessities being sudden and urgent. The question of permanent relief is no longer a subject of personal controversy and irritation between the labourer and the farmer. It is now a question between the labourer and the Board. What he shall receive no longer depends upon the will of a single person, but upon the collective will of a number so great, that personal partialities and prejudices can scarcely have place. The system, in this respect, assures justice alike to the rate-payer and the indigent poor. It stands between the poor man and the overseer; and also between the overseer and the sturdy threatening vagrant.

But it is desirable to know whether the dereliction of duty by overseers has been of frequent occurrence, and whether there has been any want of care or disposition on the part of the authorities to facilitate its exercise. That the relief given must be duly recorded and accounted for, is quite clear. Now, do the means for doing this equal those given to the relieving-officer, who requires them less? Then, again, have arrangements been duly made to enable overseers to relieve in food? Is the loaf or the meat at hand? Can it be had from the nearest shop? Or must it be brought from the store of the contractor, who cannot always reside in the next village? In fact, must the destitute person wait for the periodical visit of the relieving-officer, and is the duty of the overseer thus made a superfluity?

It is likely that the dweller in cities may not sufficiently estimate the importance of this topic. In a populous city, however sudden the casualty may be to which a fellow-creature may fall a victim, the means of relief are within a stone's-throw from the spot. But the case is different in that wide expanse of level country which opens to the view of the pedestrian as he gains the summit of the hill. The plain is dotted with solitary cottages, hamlets, and villages. The town is just perceptible in the distance. But its hum and its chimes are unheard. The Union-house loses its barrack-like appearance by its remoteness. He descends, and its "goes on his way." He hears the voices of children, the song of birds; and he sees cottages "embosomed" in trees, and those pictures which pastoral poets have so loved to paint, pass in panoramic order before him. He enters the cottage door; he sees the dampness of the walls; he feels the clayey coldness of the floors, and observes the signs of poverty. While pondering upon these things, sensation vacates its office, and imagination rules in the ascendant; material images fade away. Now the fields, the trees, and the entire air become covered and filled with drifting snow. Or,

Or the winds howl, the biting sharpness of the frosty air nips the joints and shrivels the flesh, and the smoking smouldering fire has no power to control the winds which rush across the room. The scene changes. The lowlands are flooded, and the waters reach to, and stagnate at the cottage door. The rains descend; the air is saturated with water; it chills the frame; the heart beats languidly, and the soul of man stoops to the deadening influence of the elements. Agues, rheumatism, and fevers prevail. The hardships of the season bear down old and young; for the want of sufficient or nutritious food has shorn them of their strength.

Upon awakening from this trance, "which was not all a dream," and reflecting how far aid is distant, even if it can be obtained from the nearest overseer, how forcibly must the thought occur—what numbers suffer and die whose suffering is unrelieved and unknown! If our pedestrian learn nothing from his trip for health and pleasure more than this, he will have learnt enough to satisfy him that the point we have directed his attention to, viz. that the means of relief in rural districts should be made as ample as possible; and that, therefore, the right and duty of the overseers to relieve promptly should be encouraged and zealously guarded.

Reference must now be made to the notorious "Prohibitory Order." And in doing so, it is not to the order itself, either in its original or amended form, that the following remarks are especially made, but to the practices which owe their origin to the enactments of the Poor-Law Amendment Act, to the Utopian expectations of many, that a strict work-house test would destroy pauperism, and to the explanations and reports of the Commissioners themselves. The following is the prohibitory in its latest and most humanised form:—

"Article I.—Every able-bodied person, male or female, requiring relief from any parish within any of the said Unions, shall be relieved wholly in the work-house of the said Unions, together with such of the family of every such able-bodied person as may be resident with him or her, and may not be in employment, and together with the wife of every such able-bodied male person, if he be a married man, and if she be resident with him; save and except in the following cases:—

1st, Where such person shall require relief on account of sudden and urgent necessity.[47]

2d, Where such person shall require relief on account of any sickness, accident, or bodily or mental infirmity, affecting such person, or any of his or her family.

3d, Where such person shall require relief, for the purpose of defraying the expenses, either wholly or in part, of the burial of his or her family.

4th, Where such person, being a widow, shall be in the first six months of her widowhood.

5th, Where such person shall be a widow, and have a legitimate child or legitimate children dependent upon her, and incapable of earning his, her, or their livelihood, and no illegitimate child born after the commencement of her widowhood.

6th, Where such person shall be confined in any jail or place of safe custody.

7th, Where the relief shall be required by the wife, child, or children of any able-bodied man who shall be in the service of her Majesty, as a soldier, sailor, or marine.

8th, Where any able-bodied person, not being a soldier, sailor, or marine, shall not reside within the Union, but the wife, child, or children, of such person shall reside within the same, the Board of Guardians of the Union, according to their discretion, may afford relief in the work-house to such wife, child, or children, or may allow out-door relief for any such child or children, being within the age of nurture, and resident with the mother within the Union."

The fifth exception, relating to widows, is accompanied with a course of reasoning directed against its application; and as it is to be feared that the practice engendered by a former order, in which this exception had no place, may have become habitual, this exception will be treated as if it did not exist. Especial inquiries ought to be made, in order to ascertain whether widows with children are generally allowed out-door relief.

The immediate effect of this system of relief is a diminution of expenditure. But we must look beyond the immediate effects. It is to be feared that great politico-social evils result from this system. They have been somewhat reduced in number, perhaps, by the new prohibitory order. But it is too probable that the original wound has left a scar. The evils are not on the surface, and strike the mind at intervals. Perhaps we may be struck with the fact, that our prisons are filled with individuals who have been committed for slight offences, and for short periods; and it may casually appear, that the work-house has something to do with it. Then the question may occur, why the ordinary accommodation for wayfarers in the casual wards of work-houses has become insufficient or less ample than formerly? Or, when travelling, we may see whole families creeping along the roads apparently without object or aim; and if, after giving them a coin, you ask them where they are going to, and why they are going? you will be struck with the vagueness of their replies. Wherever you meet them, you find they are going from this place to that; and if you were to meet them every day for a twelvemonth, the answers would always be as indefinite. At another time, we may be deeply concerned in the subject of prison discipline; and while studying reports, returns, and dietaries, the subject of workhouse discipline may become associated with it, and induce comparisons. And it may come to our knowledge, that there is a vast body of persons to whom it is a matter of indifference whether they are inmates of a prison or a workhouse. Or the mind may soar above the dull, cold, field of politics, and extend its researches to the pure regions of morality, leaving the questions of science for those of philosophy; and then it will appear that there are causes in operation, and results constantly flowing, which escape the "economic" eyes of assistant Commissioners.

But we must avoid generalities. We still retain our original ground, viz. the rural Union, with its large area and its thinly scattered population. The reader must accompany us to the rural Union, where the spirit of the prohibitory order exercises its most baneful influence.

We saw the relieving-officer performing his round of duties. The poor were assembled at the cottage door. Two classes of applicants were then given. We must now, however, look deeper into human nature. The destitute consist of the virtuous and the vicious, the vulgar and the refined. There stands an able-bodied man with his able-bodied wife, and his large healthy family. His weekly wages amount to nine shillings per week. If he loses a week's work he is destitute. He is now making an application to the relieving-officer. But it is useless. He must walk to the Union, and become an inmate, where his dinner awaits him. The man who now approaches the officer is like the last, able-bodied and out of work; but, unlike him, he has an idle, unthrifty, drunken wife. He is always trembling on the confines of destitution; and the instant he is without work he is on the brink of starvation. His spirit is broken. His children are dirty and ragged, and appear emaciated without disease. He, too, must enter the Union. The next is a hard-featured man;—

He does not seem to care whether relief is granted or not; and we may hear him say, "I don't want relief for myself, I can get my living somehow or other—but my wife and child musn't starve. I shan't go to the Union—I shall be off—and catch me who can."—In the cottage, a woman is seated with her children, whose husband has done that which the other has threatened to do. She may be industrious or idle, but she cannot support herself, thus suddenly thrown upon her own resources. Let us hope that she is allowed the benefit of the amended order.—There is the man whose children are approaching the state of womanhood or manhood. He has work to do, and he does it. He could manage to eke out a subsistence for himself—for his habits are simple and frugal; but his children are now a sore trial to him. His daughter has returned to his cottage with a child of shame. She has erred, but she cannot be turned from his door. She has tried to make the father contribute to the support of the child, but without success. Poor ignorant creature, instead of taking a competent witness with her, when she asked the man to assist her, she was too anxious to hide her shame. Instead of putting questions to him, in order "to get up" the corroborative evidence, she was too apt to spoil all by passionate upbraidings. And then, when she appeared before their worships the justices, she was too much abashed or excited, to enable her to develope those latent powers of examination and cross-examination which the law supposes her to possess. Those who have witnessed those humiliating proceedings in our petty courts of justice, and seen the magistrate at one moment kindly acting as counsel for the girl, then falling back to his position as judge, and observed the evident helplessness of the girl, must have left the court with the impression that the whole affair is a disgusting farce. She departs without redress. The "corroborative evidence" is declared insufficient. She goes to her father's cottage. His heart compels him to give her shelter, and a place at his scanty board. But the smallest assistance cannot be rendered with impunity. And there he stands an applicant. He is told, "you must come into the house." "But it is my daughter." "Then she must enter the Union." And, if she does, there she must remain until her child dies, or her hair grows grey.—On the other side, and away from the rest, stands a coarse-featured man, who has often been an inmate of the county jail. He is the smuggler on the coast, the footpad on the common, the poacher in the forest, the housebreaker, the horse-stealer, the sheep-slayer, or the incendiary. He may be any of these. He demands his rights, and threatens vengeance if refused.—We turn from this group, and walk slowly to the Union-house, now visible in the distance; and, in walking, the time may be well employed in reflection. The thought which occurs with the greatest vividness is this—for the reception of such a group, what must the arrangements be? There is the old man, honest but poor, who seeks there an asylum. There is the man old in sin and iniquity, as well as years. There is the able-bodied man and woman with their family. There is the able-bodied man with his drunken, unthrifty wife, and his emaciated children. There is the young girl, whom the season has thrown out of her ordinary field employment. There is the woman with her illegitimate child, either heart-broken, or glorying in her shame. There is the girl, young in years but old in profligacy, suffering for her sins. There is the matron in her green old age, the result of a life of industry and prudence. And there is the ruffian, and the thief, and the profligate vagrant, male and female. Now what arrangements can be made for this assemblage—the bad anxious to obtain temporary quarters, the good anxious to retain their homes?

Surely they are not classed according to rules in which age, and sex, and state of health are the only principles? The widow with the prostitute, the aged cottar with the aged vagrant. If this were all, the moral consequences would not be so fearful. Does the young girl, who is now innocent, associate daily with her who has wandered over half the neighbouring counties, sinking lower and lower each journey? If so, poison will be instilled, which produces certain moral death. Refer to any list, now seven years old, of the inmates of a workhouse, who were then aged from twelve to eighteen years, and then inquire what has become of them. Or inquire of those who have the administration in metropolitan parishes, or in manufacturing and sea-port towns, how many of those unfortunates, scarcely yet arrived at the state of womanhood, and suffering from loathsome diseases, were brought up, or were sometime inmates of one of these Unions. Then there are the children of all these;—the children of the farm-labourer associating with those of the vagrant, who has quartered himself in the Union during the rains.

The evils which this system occasions are not, unfortunately, either to be seen or understood by the casual observer. Even our observer may suppose that all is well, after he has inspected the place. He sees every thing clean and in order. There are no rags, no unshorn beards, no unclean flesh. The ordinary concomitants of virtue are here present—by compulsion. The rags, the filthiness of place and person, are absent—by order. This is forgotten; and, allowing the outward and visible to govern his judgment rather than the inward and spiritual, he leaves the place exclaiming, "Well! this is not so bad after all!" The outside is indeed white, but it is the whiteness of the sepulchre.

If this group is to be received into one building, there must be something peculiar in its arrangements. All these persons are suffering, more or less, from the want of food, or lodging, or clothing, or medical aid. They are now offered the whole of these blessings, and yet they do not feel blessed thereby. He has now that livelihood freely offered to him which had cost him many a sigh to procure, and he has often sighed in vain. What then can or must be the nature of the arrangements? It must be remembered that this Union is presumed to be a test of poverty, and therefore the condition of its inmates must be inferior to that of the independent labourer.

To effect this, how must the authorities proceed? In the first place, there are arrangements which they cannot make. They cannot altogether dispense with the counsels of the medical man, while the matter is under discussion. And an inspector of prisons should be admitted, certainly, as far as the ante-room. Then the locality of the Union-house must not be unhealthy. The internal parts of the building must not be exposed to the inclemency of the seasons.

The rooms cannot be badly warmed or ventilated. They must not be allowed to become filthy. The inmates must not sleep on a damp floor, with loose straw for a bed, or an old carpet for a coverlid. Their clothes must not be permitted to fall from them in tatters. They must not remain twenty-four hours without food. And they cannot experience that gnawing anxiety—that sickness of heart which those thousands suffer who rise in the morning without knowing where they can obtain a meal, or lay down their head at night. These "ills," which constitute so large a portion of the poor man's lot, the inmate of this Union cannot be made to suffer. Nor can they be detained like prisoners. He must not be confined for a longer period, after an application to leave has been made, than will allow for forms and casualties. So in three hours he is a free man again. What is to be done? Might not his food be touched? Might he not be allowed food which, although possessing nutritious qualities, should not be palatable? At this point, the prison inspector should be consulted. This experiment upon the dietaries has been tried, and with what success let public opinion trumpet-tongued proclaim. What must then be done? First, the family may, nay, must be divided and distributed over the building. The husband is sent to the "Man's Hall," the wife to the "Woman's Ward," and the male and female children each to their's. This arrangement is inevitable, but is fraught with dangers. The man who has lived for months estranged from his wife and children—for seeing them at certain times cannot be considered the same thing as living with them—may learn to believe that their presence is not necessary to his existence. And then it should not be forgotten, that the pain here introduced is the pain arising from the infliction of a moral wound. An attempt has been made to disturb a set of virtuous emotions in their healthy exercise. By this separation they are deprived of their necessary aliment; and, if they are not strong, will soon sicken and die. Now, those moral feelings which preside over the social hearth are those which exercise the greatest influence over the heart of the poor man, and bind, and strengthen, and afford opportunities for the development of the rest. They are in general the last that leave him. And when they are gone, he is bankrupt indeed. It is a pain, too, which only the virtuous feel. The lawless, the debauched, and the drunken pass unscathed. Is there not danger?

In the second place, the inmates of the Union must work. And here also there are limits which a Board cannot pass. Labour cannot be enforced from a diseased man. The prudent master of a Union will not require a task to be performed which he cannot enforce. The question is, what work can the inmates be set to do? Not to lace-making or stocking-weaving, for that is the staple of the neighbourhood. To give them this work would diminish the demand for labour out of doors. What labour then must it be? Here is the rock upon which the vessel is now driving. It must certainly be real work. Must it, then, be disagreeable work? It must. But there is no work so disagreeable that willing labourers cannot be found to do it, and that at a rate of wages reduced by competition. Then, again, the most disagreeable kind of labour cannot be done in a Union-house. And experience proves, that the number of such employments is extremely limited.

There are, however, certain kinds of labour that require no exertion of skill—no variety of operation—and consisting of the mechanical and monotonous operation of picking, which, if performed in the same room during a certain number of hours of each day, and from day to day, and from week to week, will become so sickening and wearying, that life with all its miseries, doubts, and anxieties, and impending starvation, will be welcomed in exchange.

This labour women may perform. Now, in what way can the men be tasked? There are certain kinds of mere labour, hard and monotonous, such as grinding—or rather turning a handle all day long—without seeing the progress or result of the toil. He might also be employed in breaking bones. This has been tried, and received a check.

But while the conclave are sitting in "consultation deep" upon this knotty question, let us turn to another conclave, and mark their doings. They know nothing of the poor-law, or paupers. The two authorities are separated, the one from the other, by a gulf, the depth of which official persons alone know. They have to do with crime. They have to punish the offender. And not only to punish the offender who has committed acts which require long imprisonment, but those also who have committed petty offences. Upon this latter subject they are engaged. The prisoner must be set to work. And then arise the old questions, and with the same result. What do they determine?

What has been done? Surely the two bodies have not each issued the same regulations to paupers and prisoners. If this be so, the matter cannot rest. And that it must be so, is obvious from a mere inspection of the means which the workhouse master and the jailer have at their disposal. It is not an oversight or an abuse. The data being given, the consequences are inevitable. Each conclave has separately arrived at nearly the same conclusion. In one case a prison and a prisoner, and a brief period of incarceration is given, with the condition, that his punishment shall not be so severe as that of the criminal deeply dyed in crime; and yet his circumstances shall be less desirable than those of the independent labourer. In the other case, a pauper and a Union-house is given; and if the condition of the problem be, that the pauper's situation shall be less disagreeable than that of the independent labourer, the solution becomes impossible; and, if this latter condition be left out or forgotten, the result is, that the prisoner and the pauper are in the same position. This mode of treating the matter has been preferred to that of comparing dietaries and labour-tables, and to quoting from evidence showing the indifference with which the prison and the workhouse are regarded by the lower class of paupers. Our object has been to show that the strict workhouse system leads necessarily to these evils.

It is argued, on the other side, that pauperism has diminished in those Unions where the "prohibitory order" has been issued; and, in proof thereof, we are referred to reports and tables showing diminished expenditure. A family, with a judicious out-door management, would be able to subsist with the occasional assistance of two, three, or four shillings' worth of food weekly. The cost of the family in the house would be about 18s. weekly; and yet the expenditure in the rural Union, where the "prohibitory order" is in force, has been reduced. No especial reference can now be made to the amount of unrelieved suffering which this fact discloses. Those who decline the order cannot now be followed to their homes; nor can another incident of this system be dwelt upon—its tendency to reduce the standard of wages. The employer is likely to get labour cheap, when he has a number of unemployed labourers to choose from, who have just preferred to "live on" in a half-starved condition, rather than submit to a system of prison discipline. To return to the allegation, that pauperism has been diminished in those Unions where the order is in operation. The reply is—that the statistics do not touch the question. They ought to be thrown aside as useless, until the condition of those who have refused to enter the Union walls has been ascertained. Have their numbers become thinned by the ravages of the fever, which their "houseless heads and unfed sides" have unfitted them to resist? Have they been unable to pay their pittance of rent; and is the cottage, which was once theirs, now falling to decay? Have estates thus been thinned without the formality and notoriety of a warrant? Have the able-bodied left the Union, and become wanderers, seeking for an understocked labour-market; and, finding it not, are they becoming, through common lodging-house associations, half labourers, half vagrants—labouring to-day, begging to-morrow, and stealing the next? Is the inclination to wander growing into a passion? Are habits of strolling being formed? Is he gradually deteriorating to the half-savage state? Is this so? A great national question is involved. The French government know, by experience, the importance of a true knowledge of "Les Classes Dangereuses."

Now, if any of these applicants have become wanderers, or have migrated to distant towns where charities abound, or have been cut off by sickness, or have remained in a state of semi-starvation, the statistics would remain the same. Besides, these statistics embrace two periods; the present time, when an extremely rigid system of out-door relief is in action; and a past time, when the out-door management was loose, irregular, and rotten; and for the diminution of expenditure, arising from a sound system of out-door relief, no allowance has been made, the whole benefit of the economy being referred to the workhouse test.

It is probable much of the evil has been stayed, from the circumstance that the "system" has been carried into effect by human agency. A certificate of illness from the medical officer would exempt the individual from the operation of the rule. Now, the seeds of disease are oftentimes deeply hidden in the bodily frame; and the alleged throbbing or shooting pain, although the symptoms may not be seen, may have an existence, and be certified accordingly.

Then the relieving-officer, after relieving the case as one of sudden and urgent necessity to-day, may see the applicant again upon his next visit; and knowing that a case is urgent after forty-eight hours' fasting, and may be considered sudden, if two days' work only was obtained when four days was expected, he may be relieved on the same plea again, and again, and again. In point of fact, the relief is an allowance.

If this be the practice, a bad mode of out-door relief has grown into use, the worst peculiarities of the old method being involved in it. It is irregular, partial, and dependent on personal partialities and prejudices; and, if persisted in, would revive old times, when the overseer gave away, in the first place, to the bold, the insidious, and the designing, and modest merit was left to pick up the crumbs.

The result of an inquiry into the two other classes into which England is parochially divided would probably be, that many evils have been removed or lessened, that others have remained untouched, that much good has been secured, and that new abuses have crept in.

Take the Union of small parishes. An improvement has certainly been effected by the Union of these. A city or town, because it happened to be composed of a large number of small parishes, having no perceptible boundaries, but, in virtue of ancient usage or statute-law, was governed by so many independent petty powers. It does not require much study to ascertain what abuses would be likely to arise, or from what quarter they would probably come. It is likely that the round of petty magnates would be a small and cozy party; that a man, the moment he became initiated, would begin to ascend the ladder of fortune. Jobbery would flourish. Such things are not peculiar to England. In Spain and France they have been matter of observation. Read the following extract from Fabrice's account of the masters he served:—"Le Seigneur Manuel Ordonnez, mon maÎtre, est un homme d'une piÉtÉ profonde. On dit que, dÈs sa jeunesse, n'ayant en vue que le bien des pauvres, il s'y est attachÉ avec un zÈle infatigable. Aussi ses soins ne sont-ils pas demeurÉs sans rÉcompense: tout lui a prospÉrÉ. Quelle benediction! En faisant les affaires des pauvres, il s'est enrichÉ."

These abuses belong to the past, but their existence should not be forgotten. Pauperism would flourish. For a system of management, proverbially jealous of having its affairs exposed to the gaze of the ignorant vulgar, could not look with too curious an eye into the circumstances of those who applied for relief. The beadle who flourished in those days did not, as some affirm, derive his authority from his cocked hat or his gilded coat, but from the real power he exercised.

The overseers were elected with their will, or against it. They often served in a perpetual circle. The duty of relieving the poor was too often left to subordinate irresponsible officers, whose duties were neither expressed nor recognised. Their most arduous task was to keep their superior out of hot water. But what kind of cases were relieved, and under what circumstances, and what kind of cases were refused, and under what circumstances, is now mere matter—matter of tradition, and will become a mystery in the course of a few years. Many poor were relieved; but the bold, the idle, and the squalid had the best chance. Honest, humble poverty approached the overseer's door with fear and trembling, and the slightest rebuff or harsh word, which an importune application might occasion, would be sufficient to make her leave the door unrelieved. While the destitute confirmed pauper would annoy, insult, and extract relief, by the scandal of so much squalid destitution lying and crouching about the overseer's door.

Now what change has taken place? These parishes have been formed into Unions. The churchwardens and overseers of each parish form part of a Board of management. This Board of management is completed by the addition of a class hitherto unknown in parish matters, viz. the guardians who are elected from the parishioners, on grounds in which wealth, station, and public importance are elements. All repairs and alterations, and the supply of provisions, are subject to contract, and open to competition. The parish plumber can no longer make his fortune by the repair of the parish pump. All disbursements are recorded, and subjected to rigid inspection, and all receipts are duly accounted for.

But the poor, how do they fare? It is necessary to state, with reference to this point, that the peculiar politico-economic theories which have had such frequent expression in the letters, reports, and orders of the Poor-Law Commissioners, have also had their influence upon all persons connected with the administration of relief. The idea was, that a severe "house test" would nearly destroy pauperism. This dream, however, is passing away, and a more humane set of opinions are being engendered.

The circumstances of a city Union are widely different from those of the rural Union; and, therefore, many suggestions and strictures which have been made against the mode of administering relief in the latter are inapplicable to the former. In the rural Union, the chief difficulty is, that a long distance must be travelled before the application to the relieving-officer can be made, and relief obtained. And it becomes a matter of importance to know to what extent the local officers are able to perform their duty. In the Union of small parishes, these difficulties cannot exist, for the whole diameter may be traversed in half-an-hour. Then a relief office is built. It is situated in a poor neighbourhood. It is open a certain number of hours in each day; an officer is in attendance; and the bread and meat, and other kind of food, are in the building. These facts are known to the poor, to the magistrates, and to the police. The individual power of the overseer in these little parishes falls daily into disuetude. The poor man can obtain relief most readily at the office. He need not wait for the leisure moment of an overseer—deeply engaged in his private affairs. The poor know this, and do not apply to him. Occasionally an application is made to an overseer, and if he wish the case to be relieved, his most convenient practical course, is to submit the case to the relieving-officer, by a note, and then to put a question to the chairman at the next board-day.

It will be found that the evil to be apprehended is, that relief in certain cases may be too easily obtained, and a class of paupers improperly encouraged. This, however, does not necessarily proceed from the Union, but from certain other wise notions respecting mendicancy and vagrancy.

A certain part of every workhouse is separated from the rest of the building, and appropriated to wayfarers. Formerly, at the close of day, a number of persons usually applied to the officers for lodging for the night. They were questioned as to their mode of livelihood, their object in travelling, the distance they had travelled, and the route; and these answers were tested by any means at hand. If the result was satisfactory, they were admitted, and allowed to pursue their way at an early hour in the morning, with an allowance of food. If the result was doubtful, or they were convicted of deceit, their application was either deferred, refused, or they were required to do work for the relief given. Then questions of age, sex, and degrees of health were considered. Now, relief precedes inquiry; and as these persons are relieved but once, no inquiry is made, and is in fact impossible. Now, if a man appears before an officer apparently destitute, he must be relieved forthwith. If the man is not relieved, the relieving-officer's situation and character are in jeopardy. And so the workhouse at night has become open house to all comers. The wards are filled with a strange group of beings. The very scum, not of the poor, but the vicious, are to be found in these wards. The man who attends these dens does his duty in the midst of revilings and cursings, and at the risk of his life. The poor man who is really "tramping" in search of work, and has not been able to get the threepence for his night's lodging, has not the benefit of this change. Fevers and other contagious diseases are likely to be generated and spread. Some inquiry has been made into this subject, but is by no means exhausted. Further inquiry should be made, and the connexion between vagrancy and a strict workhouse system should not be overlooked.

The third class into which the parishes and Unions of England have been divided in this article, viz. that of populous single parishes, differs from that which comprises Unions of small parishes in but few particulars. These parishes are generally very populous, and cover a small area. The duty of administering relief has always been heavy and onerous. The mode of management has generally been determined by local acts. A board of management has always existed. In some cases the overseers have been elected and paid, because much experience, and the devotion of much time, is necessary for the due performance of the duties. In other instances, unpaid overseers hold the responsibility, and are assisted by subordinate officers. Many of these parishes have defied the power of the Commissioners, and retained their independent authority. The Boards are composed of men of standing and business habits. They are generally well acquainted with the poor, and know much better how the relief fund should be expended, than those who see them only through the imperfect media of reports and statistics. Many novelties in management, enforced on Unions by the Commissioners, have been voluntarily adopted, and many time-honoured fictions have been exploded. In general, the proceedings of the Commissioners have not been to them satisfactory. The new project of district asylums for the reception of wayfarers may be given as an example.

These parishes, however, should not escape the inquiry; and a useful direction might be given to it, if the subject of classifications in workhouses were to be considered in connexion with these populous places. Not that special evils exist, but because the subject of classification on moral grounds might be more conveniently considered, and more severely tested.

We think that an improved classification in workhouses, in which moral consideration might be allowed to form an element, might be attempted. Very decided opinions have been expressed to the contrary. It is generally believed, and has been declared by high authorities, that the poor fund is a statutable fund, raised by compulsion, for the relief of destitution; and, therefore, the statutable purpose of the fund has reference only to the fact of destitution, and not to moral qualities. That this may be true in cases of sudden necessity is not denied; but with respect to those cases where relief is likely to be permanent—as old age—or in those cases in which a period must elapse before the relief is withdrawn, the moral character of the individual must, and does, form a leading circumstance in the treatment. It is not said that the fact of giving or refusing relief should depend on moral considerations, but that the mode or manner should be determined by them. Take a case. A widow with a family, in the first month of her widowhood, applies for relief. During the first three months of her husband's illness, his savings were adequate to his necessities. And during the last three months, the weekly voluntary gathering of his brother workmen, or the allowance from his club, has sufficed; and he died without destitution actually coming to his door. His remains have been conveyed to the grave; and, with the balance of money from the friendly society, or trades' club, she has been supported to the end of the first month of her widowhood.

The other case is also a widow. But, as a wife, she was unthrifty and drunken, and she has not changed, for her sobriety was more than suspected on the day of the funeral. Here, there are no savings, no donations from friends, no allowance from a club. Her husband lived and died a pauper, was buried as a pauper, and his widow has determined to make the most of her destitution, and extract the utmost farthing from the reluctant guardians. Each of these cases must be relieved. As regards the fact of destitution, the latter case is the worst; but the frugal widow suffers the greatest deprivation. To the common observer, the state of the bad is one of pure misery, and the state of the other simply quiet, frugal, lowliness of condition. The fact, however, really is, that the good widow suffers the most keenly; and, excepting certain little matters of decency and cleanliness, is really the most destitute. The cry, "What will become of my children?" implies in itself a large amount of suffering. The thought scarcely occurs to the mind of the other. The treatment of these cases must be, and is different; and the difference is founded on moral grounds. In one case, if the relief were in money, it would be instantly transmitted into gin. Relief in kind must be resorted to, and be given in small quantities, and frequently; and even then she must be watched, or the bread would never reach the mouths of her children. In the other case, a liberal allowance in money, given in the first month of her widowhood, would be expended carefully, and if given promptly, before her "little home" has been broken up, she may be able in a few months to insure a livelihood, and become independent of the parish. These cases represent extremes. There is every variety of shade between them; and sometimes the case presents so mingled a yarn of laziness, and bodily weakness, ignorance, cunning, and imprudence, that the guardians scarcely know the proper treatment. Boards of guardians have frequently to deal with such cases, and do, without expressing it in words, dispose of them on moral grounds, although those in high places may be too much occupied with statistics and generalities to be aware of the fact.

The question, how far moral considerations can be allowed in the classification of workhouses, is one of difficulty, and all opinions and suggestions require to be cautiously and guardedly stated. This cannot be done now. It may, however, be thought that, in suggesting a moral classification, we are getting rid of some of our objections to the "strict workhouse system." We may therefore say, that while we think a sound system of out-door relief is the preferable mode of dealing with poverty and pauperism, yet we believe the workhouse to be a necessary adjunct. Under the most favourable circumstances, the Union-house or workhouse is a moral pest-house; but, in the large manufacturing town or populous metropolitan parish, it is a necessary evil. In cities, where wretchedness is seen in its most squalid condition, and where crime assumes its most varied and darkest hues, there must always be a multitude of human beings whose necessities the public charities cannot reach. There are diseases which hospitals will not admit, because they can end only in speedy dissolution, or because they are incurable and lingering. There are cases, compounded of deceit and misery, which private charity passes by. There are aged men and women who have either outlived their children or their affection, or who saw them depart many years since to foreign lands as emigrants, soldiers, sailors, or convicts. And there are young children whose parents have been cut off by fever. There are the children of sin and shame. There is the young woman, overtaken in her downward career by horrible diseases, and who is now pitilessly turned from the door of her who taught her to sin for money. There is the vagrant, the debauched, and the criminal, who are approaching the end of their career. There are those who, by unexpected circumstances, have been deprived of a shelter. And there are those who will not work, who have absconded, and whose wives and children are without home or food. For all these, and many more, an asylum must exist, and this asylum is the workhouse. Is it quite clear that this collection of human beings, representing so many varieties of virtue and vice, cannot be divided and distributed over the building on principles of classification, in which other elements than those of age, sex, and healthiness might be admitted? The subject is worthy of full investigation.

The subject of out-door relief might also be considered by the committee, not so much with a view to ascertain the actual mode in which it is dispensed, as to obtain suggestions from subordinate officers of improvement in its administration. The stoker of steam-engine can point out defects, and suggest simple remedies, which might escape the utmost penetration and official research of the principal engineer. This subject may be most conveniently considered under this head, because, in populous parishes, out-door relief is a prominent feature. In many cases, an apparently trivial change, which might be treated very contemptuously as a mere affair of detail, would lead to important reforms. In the report upon the Andover case, certain stringent remarks appear upon the neglect of the relieving-officer in not filling up the columns in his report-book headed "wages." Now, to those engaged in the administration of relief, the omission is not considered a great fault, it being in fact an omission of a mere form. Refer to the application and report-book, and the pauper description-book, prepared by the Commissioners, and the use of which is enforced in all Unions. They consist in a series of narrow columns. Each column is headed by an interrogatory, and appears to require a very brief answer. Refer to the column headed "weekly earning," &c. In this column, it is the duty of the relieving-officer to enter the amount of wages earned by the pauper. Now, in most populous parishes, the mode of living of those who receive relief is so irregular and precarious, as to preclude the possibility of ascertaining the amount of their earnings. The number of carpenters, bricklayers, smiths, and masons who receive relief is almost incredibly few. There are many who style themselves carpenters, &c. who have no knowledge of the trade. The bulk of the relieved poor consists of such a group as this—jobbing-smiths and carpenters, who are generally old or unskilful; aged men and women, and infirm persons, who do certain kinds of rough needlework, take care of children and sick people. There are cases where the head of the family is sickly, and whose employ is occasional. There are widows who do needlework by the piece—not for tradesmen, but for those who have received the work for those who received it from the tradesmen. There are those who wash and charr by the half or quarter of a day. There are men who make money-boxes, cigar-cases, children's toys, list-shoes, and cloth caps, and send their wives and children to sell them in the streets. If the weather is fine, they go singly; if the night be rainy, they form a miserable group at the corner of great thoroughfares. There are men who frequent quays, docks, markets, and coach-offices. There are those who sell in the streets, fruit, vegetables, and fish. There are those who sweep crossings, and pick up bones, rags, and excrement; and there are those who say they do nothing; and the most searching inquiry is at fault, and yet they appear to thrive. In this multitude, there are thousands who do not apply for parochial relief once in ten years. Now, try to fix the wages of those who really compose the mass of pauperism in towns. Who can conscientiously do it? The most correct statement must be erroneous. By frequent visitation, the officer acquires an intimate knowledge of their condition. When the Board are disposing of the out-relief cases, it is by this knowledge the Board are guided. The column of brief answers, read by the clerk, are so many algebraic symbols to the majority, and convey no particular meaning; and this explains the conduct of the Andover Guardians, which is otherwise inexplicable. They must have had some data before them in dealing with cases, and the earnings of the paupers could not possibly be omitted. There is no doubt that the report-book was tacitly considered as a form necessary to be filled up, because there were orders to that effect, but as having no practical utility. And yet, how easily might the evil have been avoided! The individual who devised and drew up the form should have thought less of its statistical completeness, and more of its practical use. He should have seated himself in the Boardroom, while the business of the week was being transacted, a silent but observant spectator; and then, with his mind imbued with the fact, he might have drawn up a form of report-book which would have been useful, statistically and practically. The principle of the book would have been that of the merchant's ledger, in which, upon reference to a particular folio, an account of business transactions with a person during many years may be seen at a glance. Its construction would be obvious, and its chief feature might be easily shown. It would be a book of the largest size. Each case would have its own double page. On the left side, columns, as at present, might appear; and on the right would appear a most circumstantial account of the pauper's circumstances. If this page had been commenced in 1836, and Mary Miles had received relief, either continuously or from time to time, until 1846, the page would probably be filled; and its contents being read by the clerk upon each appearance of the pauper before the Board, a minute account of the character and circumstances of the case would be disclosed, together with the several amounts of relief ordered or refused, and the several opinions of the Board, as recorded at different times, which would enable the Board to dispense with the verbal statements of the relieving-officer. At present, a case, however often relieved, is essentially a new one. The Board of Guardians is a changing body; the individuals composing it may not attend regularly; and thus the relieving-officer becomes the only person conversant with the facts and merits of the case, and he is enabled, or compelled, to exercise a degree of authority or influence which is highly inexpedient.

How easily may these and other evils be remedied! But how, and by whom? This brings us back to our starting-point. An inquiry must be instituted into the actual working of the existing machinery. It must be conducted in a sober spirit, and without reference to theories; not in a reckless spirit of destruction, but of improvement. The question is, What remedial measures or improvement can be adopted in the administration of the English Poor-Laws? And if this paper has shown any imperfections, suggested any improvement, or should give the inquiry a useful direction, its object would be gained.