

Joseph Townsend


A Dissertation on the Poor Laws

1786





SECT. I



To a man of common sensibility nothing can be more distressing, than to hear the 
complaints of wretchedness, which he hath no power to redress, and to be daily 
conversant with misery, which he can neither fly from, nor relieve. This at 
present is the situation of the clergy, who, in virtue of their office, are 
obliged to visit the habitations of the poor. Here they see helpless infancy and 
decrepit age, the widow and the orphan, some requiring food, and others physic; 
all in such numbers, that no private fortune can supply their wants. Such scenes 
are more distressing, when, as it sometimes happens, the suffering objects have 
been distinguished for industry, honesty, and sobriety. The laws indeed have 
made provision for their relief, and the contributions are more than liberal. 
which are collected for their support; but then, the laws being inadequate to 
the purposes for which they were designed, and the money collected being 
universally misapplied, the provision, which was originally made for industry in 
distress, does little more than give encouragement to idleness and vice. The 
laws themselves appear beautiful on paper, and will be the admiration of 
succeeding ages, when, in the revolution of empires, the whole fabric of our 
government shall be dissolved, and our nation, as a separate kingdom, shall 
exist no more. These laws, so beautiful in theory, promote the evils they mean 
to remedy, and aggravate the distress they were intended to relieve. Till the 
reign of Q. Elizabeth they were unknown in England; and to the present moment, 
they have never been adopted by any other kingdom upon earth. It has been most 
unfortunate for us, that two of the greatest blessings have been productive of 
the greatest evils. The Revolution gave birth to that enormous load of debt, 
under which this nation groans; and to the Reformation we are indebted for the 
laws which multiply the poor.
At the dissolution of the monasteries, the lazy and the indigent, who were 
deprived of their accustomed food, became clamorous, and, having long since 
forgot to work, were not only ready to join in every scheme for the disturbance 
of the state, but, as vagrants, by their numbers, by their impostures, and by 
their thefts, they rendered themselves a public and most intolerable nuisance. 
To stop their mouths, and to make them employ their hands in honest labour, was 
the intention of that day. But at the same time the laws took under their 
protection some objects of distress, who for near two hundred years, from a 
noble kind of pride, refused the proffered aid, or received it with reluctance; 
and who at the present moment would be more effectually relieved, if no other 
laws existed but the first great laws of human nature, filial affection, and the 
general benevolence of mankind. The world, it must be confessed, is wicked 
enough: Yet amidst all their wickedness men seldom want compassion, unless the 
circumstances in which they find themselves are peculiarly distressing. Should 
we "in the straitness of a siege behold men eating the flesh of their sons and 
of their daughters; should we see among them a man tender and delicate, whose 
eye should be evil towards his brother and towards the wife of his bosom, and 
towards the remnant of his children, so that he should not give to any of them 
of the flesh of his children whom he should eat;"(1) we must not from such 
instances conclude that all men, or even most men, are destitute of mercy and 
compassion, or that man in general can be kind and beneficent only by 
compulsion. No doubt in every district will be found some, who are strangers to 
the finer feelings of the human heart; but at the same time in every district 
will be found some, who are endued with generosity of soul; and others, who 
under the influence of piety will rejoice to relieve the wants and distresses of 
their fellow creatures. In every place some will be distinguished for 
benevolence, others for brutality; but in general man is what his situation 
makes him. Is he happy himself in the enjoyment of ease and affluence? In such 
circumstances "he will be eyes to the blind and feet to the lame; he will be a 
father to the poor; the blessing of those that are ready to perish will come 
upon this man: he will cause the widow's heart to leap for joy*."(2) Let the 
same man be straitened in his circumstances, let him be burthened with taxes, 
let him be harassed by the clamours and distracted by the incessant demands of 
the most improvident and lazy of the surrounding poor; and he will have little 
inclination to seek for objects of distress, or to visit the sequestered cottage 
of the silent sufferer. It is generally found, that modest worth stands at a 
distance, or draws nigh with faltering tongue and broken accents to tell an 
artless tale; whilst the most worthless are the most unreasonable in their 
expectations, and the most importunate in their solicitation for relief. If the 
latter, from any imperfection of our laws, get abundantly too much, the former 
must of necessity obtain too little. If, agreeable to the general practice of 
the labouring poor, a man, previous to his marriage, or whilst his family is 
small, has made no provision for his future wants; if all, to whom he might 
naturally look for aid, are in the same circumstances with himself; and if the 
charity of those among his neighbours, who are distinguished for benevolence, 
nay of all who have the common feelings of humanity, is exhausted; if they who 
are most willing are least able to relieve him; we must expect to see distress 
and poverty even among those who are worthy of compassion. -- This at present is 
the case in England. There never was greater distress among the poor: there 
never was more money collected for their relief. But what is most perplexing is, 
that poverty and wretchedness have increased in exact proportion to the efforts 
which have been made for the comfortable subsistence of the poor; and that 
wherever most is expended for their support, there objects of distress are most 
abundant; whilst in those countries or provincial districts where the least 
provision has been made for their supply, we hear the fewest groans. Among the 
former we see drunkenness and idleness cloathed in rags; among the latter we 
hear the chearful songs of industry and virtue.
If laws alone could make a nation happy, ours would be the happiest nation upon 
earth: idleness and vice could not exist; poverty would be unknown; we should be 
like a prosperous hive of bees; all would have enough and none too much. The 
reverse of this we find to be the case: poverty and vice prevail, and the most 
vicious have access to the common stock. If a man has squandered the inheritance 
of his fathers; if by his improvidence, by his prodigality, by his drunkenness 
and vices, he has dissipated all his substance; if by his debaucheries he has 
ruined his constitution, and reduced himself to such a deplorable condition that 
he hath neither inclination nor ability to work; yet must he be maintained by 
the sweat and labour of the sober and of the industrious farmer, and eat the 
bread which should be given only to virtue in distress. -- If in all cases, this 
bread, so ill bestowed, were superabundant; if the industrious firmer were 
himself in ease and affluence; the grievance would yet be tolerable. But in this 
day it often happens that the industrious firmer is oprest with poverty. He 
rises early, and it is late before he can retire to his rest; he works hard and 
fares hard; yet with all his labour and his care he can scarce provide 
subsistence for his numerous family. He would feed them better, but the prodigal 
must first be fed. He would purchase warmer cloathing for them, but the children 
of the prostitute must first be cloathed. The little which remains after the 
profligate have been cloathed and fed, is all that he can give to those, who in 
nature have the first claims upon a father. If this evil could be stemmed, 
whilst the present laws subsist, he might yet have hope: but when he considers, 
that all the efforts, which have been made in his own parish or in others, have 
been vain, and that the evil is constantly increasing, he is driven to despair 
of help, and fears that he shall be himself reduced to work for daily hire. It 
will be evident that his fears are not altogether groundless, if we consider, 
that even in parishes, where no manufactures have been established, the poor 
rates have been doubling, some every fourteen years, and others heady every 
seven years; whilst in some districts, where the manufactures are carried on to 
a considerable extent, the poor rates are more than ten shillings in the pound 
upon the improved rents. That the distress does not arise from the high price of 
com, will be clear, if we consider, what may perhaps hereafter be more fully 
stated, that although for these two hundred years the price of wheat has 
fluctuated between wide extremes, yet upon comparing the average prices within 
that period, the ancients did not find a cheaper market than the moderns. If we 
take the average of the sixty years which terminated at the commencement of the 
present century, we shall find the price of wheat to have been six shillings and 
four pence halfpenny per bushel, whereas in the subsequent sixty years it was 
only five shillings; and for the last twenty years, ending with the year 1782, 
not more than six shillings and six pence: yet during that long period in which 
provisions were the cheapest, the poor rates were continually advancing. That 
the distress does not arise from the high price of soap, leather, candles, salt, 
and other small articles needful in a family, will appear not only from the 
superior advance in the price of labour (in the proportion of six to four within 
a century),(3) but from hence, that where the price of labour is the highest and 
provisions are the cheapest, there the poor rates have been most exorbitant. In 
Scotland they have no legal provision for the poor, yet labour is cheaper and 
corn is dearer than they are in England.





SECT. II



Under the best administration, the laws relating to the poor give occasion to 
much injustice; under the worst, they are too often the instruments of 
oppression and revenge. If the intentions of the magistrate are good, his 
compassion may be ill directed; but if at any time his judgment is blinded by 
his passions, in the keeness of his resentment for some real or imaginary 
affront, he is apt to forget the purpose for which the administration of the 
poor laws was committed to his care, and to abuse his power, by granting, when 
the property of his own tenants is not to be affected by it, the most ample 
relief to the most unworthy objects. This indeed would seldom happen, if none 
but gentlemen of a liberal education were put into the commission of the peace; 
or if, aggreeable to the original constitution of our government, this office 
were elective. But should the wisest and the best of men be chosen, yet we could 
not expect that such would every where be found willing to devote their time and 
whole attention to the administration of those laws, whose natural tendency is 
to increase the number of the poor, and greatly to extend the bounds of human 
misery.





SECT. III



All who are conversant with Tacitus have admired the extent of his knowledge, 
the shrewdness of his remarks, and the nervous strength of his expression. In a 
speech which he puts into the mouth of the Roman emperor Tiberius, we find this 
passage: "Languescet industria, intendetur socordia, si nullus ex se metus nut 
specs, & securi omnes aliena subsidia expectabunt, sibi ignavi, nobis 
graves."(4) Hope and fear are the springs of industry. It is the part of a good 
politician to strengthen these: but our laws weaken the one and destroy the 
other. For what encouragement have the poor to be industrious and frugal, when 
they know for certain, that should they increase their store it will be devoured 
by the drones'?(5) or what cause have they to fear, when they are assured, that 
if by their indolence and extravagance, by their drunkenness and vices, they 
should be reduced to want, they shall be abundantly supplied, not only with food 
and raiment, but with their accustomed luxuries, at the expence of others. The 
poor know little of the motives which stimulate the higher ranks to 
action-pride, honour, and ambition. In general it is only hunger which can spur 
and goad them on to labour; yet our laws have said, they shall never hunger. The 
laws, it must be confessed, have likewise said that they shall be compelled to 
work. But then legal constraint is attended with too much trouble, violence, and 
noise; creates ill will, and never can be productive of good and acceptable 
service: whereas hunger is not only a peaceable, silent, unremitted pressure, 
but, as the most natural motive to industry and labour, it calls forth the most 
powerful exertions; and, when satisfied by the free bounty of another, lays a 
lasting and sure foundation for good will and gratitude. The slave must be 
compelled to work; but the freeman should be left to his own judgment and 
discretion; should be protected in the full enjoyment of his own, be it much or 
little; and punished when he invades his neighbour's property. By recurring to 
those base motives which influence the slave, and trusting only to compulsion, 
all the benefits of free service, both to the servant and to the master, must be 
lost.
It is universally found, that where bread can be obtained without care or 
labour, it leads through idleness and vice to poverty. Before they discovered 
the gold and silver mines of Peru and Mexico, the Spaniards were distinguished 
among the nations of Europe for their industry and arts, for their manufactures 
and their commerce. But what are they now? a lazy, poor, and miserable people. 
They have been ruined by their imaginary wealth. The declension of the Spaniards 
has been attributed to the expulsion of the Moriscoes; and the blow was 
certainly severe, but not altogether adequate to the effect. The number expelled 
was more than six hundred thousand, besides those who died by the sword, by 
famine, or by the sentences of The Inquisition. The principal charge brought 
against them was their obstinate adherence to the Mahometan religion: the 
political reason assigned for their expulsion was, that by their industry, 
temperance, and frugality, they were able to work cheaper than the Spaniards, 
whilst by their sobriety they contributed little to the public revenue: but the 
real cause of this impolitic measure was an order from the Pope, that these 
infidels should be converted at the expence of the Spanish clergy. The 
Archbishop of Valentia was to pay three thousand six hundred ducats yearly, and 
the other bishops in proportion to their incomes, for the support of an Arabic 
mission.(6) Thus the temperate, the frugal, and the industrious, being banished 
from the kingdom, whilst the indolent found a constant influx of gold and silver 
from abroad, the whole nation sunk by degrees into the present state of torpid 
inactivity. It is more than one hundred and seventy years since this event, and 
yet in all that time Spain has not recovered her population. The quantity of 
gold and silver imported annually into Cadiz and Lisbon has been reckoned six 
millions sterling.(7) Here we find a sufficient cause for the decay of their 
industry and arts.
Our poor began only to appear in numbers after the dissolution of the 
monasteries. Then it was they first attracted notice; but they had existed long 
before, always most abundant in the vicinity of the religious houses. At the 
present moment we are told, that in Naples six thousand Lazaroni are daily fed 
by the monastic orders, under the specious name of charity, not upon a sudden 
emergency, but statedly, and as the only means of their subsistence. As a peace 
offering this may be politic and wise, well calculated to conciliate the good 
opinion of the unthinking mind, and to command the admiration of the vulgar; but 
at the same time it is inconsistent with the most established principles of 
political economy: for as industry and frugality are the only foundation of 
national prosperity; so temperance and labour are the only source of happiness 
and wealth to individuals. A learned Jesuit, who has lately written and is now 
publishing an elegant defence of that society, assumes great merit from this 
circumstance, that instead of extorting for themselves a scanty pittance from 
the vitals of the people, such was the benevolence of these holy fathers, and 
such the abundant wealth of their establishments, that they relieved all in the 
surrounding villages, who made application to their charity. Their intentions, 
no doubt, were good, but their bounty must have been misapplied. He, who 
statedly employs the poor in useful labour, is their only friend; he, who only 
feeds them, is their greatest enemy. Their hopes and fears should centre in 
themselves: they should have no hope but from their own sobriety, diligence, 
fidelity, and from the well-earnt friendship of their employers; and then their 
only fear would be the fear of forfeiting by their misconduct, that fayour and 
protection which would be their principal resource in times of sickness and 
distress. 





SECT. IV



A wise legislator will endeavour to confirm the natural bonds of society, and 
give vigour to the first principles on which political union must depend. He 
will preserve the distinctions which exist in nature independent of his 
authority, and the various relations which, antecedent to his creation, 
connected man to man. He will study the natural obligations which arise from 
these relations, that he may strengthen these connections by the sanction of his 
laws. Among the first of these relations stands the relation of a servant to his 
master; and the first duty required from a servant is prompt, chearful, and 
hearty obedience. On this condition alone can the connection be preserved, as 
without due subordination all government must end. But our laws tend to weaken 
these bonds, and to destroy this subordination, by compelling the occupier of 
land to find employment for the poor. With this provision, what have they to 
fear when discharged from service? If one will not employ them, another must. If 
the work be slighted or neglected, if it be deserted in the pressing hour, or 
spoiled in the execution, it is to little' purpose for the master to complain; 
he can have no redress. Does he seek relief from the civil power? The unequal 
contest is begun, and the remedy will be worse than the disease. Both the 
servant and the master know when the work is ill performed, or when the servant 
has not earnt his wages, even when legal proof is wanting. If then the master 
has no other remedy, he is at the mercy of his servants; he must connive at 
their neglects, and bear their impertinence with patience. There is no 
alternative but this, or to maintain them without work. The appeal in this case 
to a magistrate is from a superior tribunal to the inferior, from the stronger 
to the weaker. Where the natural sanctions are sufficient to secure obedience 
without disturbing the peace and good order of society; there a wise legislator 
will be careful not to interfere, lest, by weakening these, without being able 
to substitute better in their place, he should stop the course of justice and 
protect the guilty. The wisest legislator will never be able to devise a more 
equitable, a more effectual, or in any respect a more suitable punishment, than 
hunger is for a disobedient servant. Hunger will tame the fiercest animals, it 
will teach decency and civility, obedience and subjection, to the most brutish, 
the most obstinate, and the most perverse. A good servant need not be afraid of 
wanting work. If one master should dismiss him from his service, others will be 
happy to receive him. But should a man be notorious for a thief, and for 
spoiling or neglecting work; should he be either so false, so vicious, or so 
ill-tempered, that no master would be willing to employ him; it would certainly 
be just that he should suffer hunger till he had learnt to reform his conduct. 
There are perhaps few parishes which cannot produce some of this untoward 
disposition. Indeed it is the general complaint of farmers, that their men do 
not work so well as they used to do, when it was reproachful to be relieved by 
the parish.





SECT. V



It may seem strange in a country where agriculture, arts, manufactures., and 
commerce, are most flourishing, all of which have a mutual and corresponding 
influence on each other, to say that the laws discourage manufactures; yet this 
may be said of the poor laws in England. By our present system we prevent their 
introduction, check their progress, and hasten their departure. If the rental of 
a parish were not bound to provide for the increasing poor, every gentleman of 
landed property would be solicitous to have manufacturers established on his 
estates, in order to consume the produce of his lands. By multiplying the 
consumers he would enhance the value of all the various products of the soil: he 
would enjoy the monopoly of hay and pasture, and share with all his neighhours 
to a given distance in the sale of corn. But when he considers that manufactures 
fluctuate, that the benefit which he is to derive from them will not bear 
proportion to the burthen which he must entail upon his property; he will rather 
wish to keep them at a convenient distance. The principal benefit he can expect 
is, that the value of his pastures should be doubled: but even whilst the 
manufacture prospers, the demands of the poor, both upon his arable and pasture, 
will be more than doubled, and when it fails, the poor's rate will swallow up 
the whole. The surrounding parishes will reap the chief advantage: he will have 
the happiness to see them flourish; but the load and burthen of the poor will 
remain upon his own estate. "Sic vos non vobis fertis aratra, boves."(8)
In every parish, as the law now stands, they who have legal settlements, have 
the monopoly of labour, because the labouring poor are confined to their 
respective parishes. This provision is perfectly consistent with the whole 
system of our poor laws, and was designed not only to prevent the evils which 
naturally arise from vagrancy, and which might be equally prevented by more 
wholesome laws; but to protect each parish from intruders, who might become 
chargeable either for themselves or for their children. This provision is 
productive of considerable evils, which the legislature has never yet been able 
to remove: for not only have the industrious poor been restrained from seeking 
employment where they would otherwise have been received with joy, and confined 
to their own parishes, in which they were regarded with an evil eye; but for 
want of competition the price of labour to the manufacturer has been much 
enhanced. With a certificate, indeed, the poor are permitted to reside in any 
parish where work is to be had, but then a certificate is not easily obtained. 
Now it is evident that by raising the price of labour you must directly check 
the progress of the manufactures; and by experience it is found, that the same 
effect arises indirectly to a more considerable extent; for in proportion as you 
advance the wages of the poor, you diminish the quantity of their work. All 
manufacturers complain of this, and universally agree, that the poor are seldom 
diligent, except when labour is cheap, and com is dear. It must be confessed 
that too many of them have some little resemblance to the animal described by 
travellets under the name of Nimble Peter; a creature so inactive, that, when he 
has cleared one tree, he will be reduced to skin and bones before he climbs 
another, and so slow in all his motions, that even stripes will not make him 
mend his pace.(9) Drunkenness is the common vice of poverty; not perhaps of 
poverty as such, but of the uncultivated mind; for it is the characteristic of 
unpolished nations to be fond of intoxicating liquors. Whatever be the cause, it 
is notorious, that with the common people the appetite for strong drink is their 
prevailing appetite. When therefore, by the advance in wages, they obtain more 
than is sufficient for their bare subsistence, they spend the surplus at the 
alehouse, and neglect their business. Is a man drunk one day? He will have 
little inclination to work the next. Thus for every drunken fit two days are 
lost. By frequent repetition the habit is confirmed, and, by reducing the number 
of working days, their value is enhanced. In proportion to this loss, the price 
of labour will be raised. As long as men have nothing to fear, either for 
themselves or for their families, this practice will prevail. Where the price of 
labour is advanced, the industrious and the sober will by degrees acquire a 
taste for luxury. They will not be contented with bare subsistence, with a 
sufficient quantity of coarse yet wholesome food, with warm but homespun 
garments, and with healthy but unfurnished cottages: they will contract habits 
of refinement, which, when suffered to promote their industry, will be useful 
both to themselves and to the public, but which in all cases, will have a 
tendency to keep up the price of labour, and to advance the price of all those 
articles which they consume. Even they who do not work must eat, and, by 
increasing the demand for corn, will enhance its value, and consequently the 
price of labour. In this case action and re-action are equal, but not opposite. 
The high price of labour raises the value of provisions, and the high price of 
provisions enhances the value of labour. They are both increased by the present 
system of our poor laws, and have both a tendency to check the progress of 
manufactures, and to hasten their departure. The most specious argument produced 
against granting a free trade to the sister kingdom was, that, having labour 
cheap, and not being burthened with a poor's rate, she would be able to 
undersell us in the market, and thereby ruin our manufactures. Should England 
repeal the present laws, and make a better provision for the frugal, the sober, 
and the industrious, among the poor, Ireland could no longer boast of this 
advantage.
Manufactures always seek the cheapest countries. As they are leaving the 
southern countries and travelling to the north, so in time will they leave the 
north, and, to a considerable degree, quit the kingdom, unless some wise 
regulations are established for the better relief and government of the 
labouring poor.
The poor laws to a certain degree discourage improvements in agriculture; for it 
is certain, that more waste land would be taken into tillage, if gentlemen were 
not alarmed by the increasing burthen of the poor. Against the claims of the 
church, provision has been made by an exemption from tythes for seven years; but 
the demands of the poor admit of no exemption. Monied men have greatly the 
advantage over the owners and occupiers of land, as being free from those heavy 
taxes, which the latter pay to the king, to the church, and to the poor. When 
the poor's rate amounts to ten shillings, or even to four shillings in the 
pound, who will be at the expence of clearing, fencing, breaking up, manuring, 
cropping, the waste and barren parts of an estate? Certainly no gentlemen can do 
it with a view to profit. In Scotland the sums are immense which have been 
expended for this purpose; but in England a man of property would choose rather 
to take the public for his debtor, than to be himself a debtor to the poor; more 
especially as it is not possible for him to conjecture what will be the extent 
of this unlimited rent-charge upon his estate. Were it not for this incumbrance 
agriculture would certainly be pushed much farther than it has ever been, and 
many thousand acres of the poorer commons, heaths, and moors, would be inclosed 
and cultivated. The best writers have complained, that by a tax, similar in its 
operation to our poor's tax, agriculture in France has been depressed, the 
assessment being made in proportion to their stock in trade. The conduct of the 
French in this respect is not more absurd than ours. How widely different has 
been the operation of our land-tax. It has been a spur to industry, because from 
the beginning the proportion has been never changed. To be consistent in 
principle, the legislature should either limit the sum to be collected for the 
poor, or if agriculture is to be effectually checked, they should equalize the 
land-tax. Had this tax followed our improvements with a tight grasp, and with a 
watchful eye, like the church, and like the poor, England would not at this day 
discover the smiling aspect which all foreigners admire, when they every where 
behold our vallies cloathed with flocks, and our hills with corn. A wise 
politician will study to remove every obstacle which can retard the progress of 
improvement: but such is the system of our laws, that the greater the distress 
among the poor, the less will be the inducement to cultivate our more stubborn 
and unprofitable lands.





SECT. VI



A distinguished writer of the present century has clearly stated some advantages 
which the community derives from the introduction of luxury, and would from 
thence conclude, that private vices are public benefits. His conclusion we 
cannot grant him; nor can we allow the premises, if by luxury be meant any thing 
inconsistent with morality. If in our idea of luxury we include only the 
comforts and conveniences of life, then a taste for luxury must be productive of 
industry and virtue, must increase the happiness of individuals, and promote the 
welfare of the state. If men were contented to go naked, to lie under hedges, 
and, according to the fiction of the poets, to feed on acorns, there would be 
none to labour till the acorns were consumed. In general the industry of man 
bears proportion to his real or imaginary wants. Could the landlord be contented 
with the produce of his native soil, he would cultivate only what would be 
sufficient for the consumption of his family; or could the labourer be contented 
with what was barely sufficient to satisfy his hunger, when he no longer felt 
the cravings of his appetite, he would cease to labour. But as their wants are 
multiplied, the master is willing to employ more workmen, and the workman 
himself is reconciled to constant labour. There was a time when the inhabitants 
of Europe had neither rum, brandy, spices, tea, sugar, nor tobacco: they now 
covet these, and these new desires have produced new efforts to gratify them. 
There was a time when they had neither linen, shoes, nor stockings; they now 
feel the want of these, and receive them as the rewards of industry. But 
supposing that, with these new desires, they could obtain not only linen, shoes, 
and stockings, but spices, spirits, tea, sugar, and tobacco, without care or 
labour, what encouragement would they have to industry? By the present system of 
our poor laws, at least as they are now administered, the benefits which arise 
from luxury, in promoting industry among the labouring poor, are lost; and the 
most improvident may rest assured, that he shall, at all events, share these 
superfluities with the most active and laborious; and that in times of scarcity 
his wants shall be the first supplied, and his comfort the first consulted. To 
be consistent, the legislature should make the same provision for farmers, 
manufacturers, and merchants; that in case, by their profusion or neglect o[ 
business, they should be insolvent, their debts might all be paid, and 
themselves, together with their families, might be supported in the stile and 
manner to which they had been accustomed; all out of the revenues of the state, 
or by special rates to be collected; not by voluntary donations, but by 
compulsive payments, and not merely from the opulent, but from those who had 
themselves been struggling with poverty and want: nay, to be consistent, they 
should pass a law that no man should reap the fruit of his indiscretion; or, to 
be perfectly consistent, they should repeal all penal statutes.
Hesiod, in his Georgics, or didactic poem on agriculture, describes with 
beautiful simplicity the excellent effects of emulation, representing two kinds 
of strife and contention among men; the one productive of violence, the other of 
peace, harmony, and plenty. The one is intent only upon plunder, whilst the 
other seeing wealth as attendant upon industry, is induced to labour, in order 
to obtain those comforts which the diligent only can command.
This principle has been perverted by our laws; and now the person who excites 
the envy and emulation of the lazy and improvident, is not the man who by his 
activity is acquiring affluence, but the indolent poor in every parish, who by 
his impudence and by his importunity has obtained the most ample and the most 
unmerited relief. This our poet has described as the natural emulation among 
beggars.





SECT. VII



It seems to be a law of nature, that the poor should be to a certain degree 
improvident, that there may always be some to fulfil the most servile, the most 
sordid, and the most ignoble offices in the community. The stock of human 
happiness is thereby much increased, whilst the more delicate are not only 
relieved from drudgery, and freed from those occasional employments which would 
make them miserable, but are left at liberty, without interruption, to pursue 
those callings which are suited to their various dispositions, and most useful 
to the state. As for the lowest of the poor, by custom they are reconciled to 
the meanest occupations, to the most laborious works, and to the most hazardous 
pursuits; whilst the hope of their reward makes them chearful in the midst of 
all their dangers and their toils. The fleets and armies of a state would soon 
be in want of soldiers and of sailors, if sobriety and diligence universally 
prevailed: for what is it but distress and poverty which can prevail upon the 
lower classes of the people to encounter all the horrors which await them on the 
tempestuous ocean, or in the field of battle? Men who are easy in their 
circumstances are not among the foremost to engage in a seafaring or military 
life. There must be a degree of pressure, and that which is attended with the 
least violence will be the best. When hunger is either felt or feared, the 
desire of obtaining bread will .quietly dispose the mind to undergo the greatest 
hardships, and will sweeten the severest labours. The peasant with a sickle in 
his hand is happier than the prince upon his throne.
Now a fixed, a certain, and a constant provision for the poor weakens this 
spring; it increases their improvidence, but does not promote their chearful 
compliance with those demands, which the community is obliged to make on the 
most indigent of its members; it tends to destroy the harmony and beauty, the 
symmetry and order of that system, which God and nature have established in the 
world. The improvident among the poor have been advancing in their claims: they 
now begin to understand that they have a legal right to all. When this, which 
hitherto has been only felt, shall be clearly seen, and universally 
acknowledged, nothing will remain but to cast lots, who among the active and the 
virtuous shall perform the vilest offices for the indolent and vicious.





SECT. VIII



Our poor laws are not only unjust, oppressive, and impolitic, nor am they merely 
by accident inadequate to the purpose for which they were designed; but they 
proceed upon principles which border on absurdity, as professing to accomplish 
that which, in the very nature and constitution of the world, is impracticable. 
They say, that in England no man, even though by his indolence, improvidence, 
prodigality, and vice, he may have brought himself to poverty, shall ever suffer 
want. In the progress of society, it will be found, that some must want; and 
then the only question will be this, Who is most worthy to suffer cold and 
hunger, the prodigal or the provident, the slothful or the diligent, the 
virtuous or the vicious? In the South Seas there is an island, which from the 
first discoverer is called Juan Fernandez. In this sequestered spot, John 
Fernando placed a colony of goats, consisting of one male, attended by his 
female. This happy couple finding pasture in abundance, could readily obey the 
first commandment, to increase and multiply, till in process of time they had 
replenished their little island.(10) In advancing to this period they were 
strangers to misery and want, and seemed to glory in their numbers: but from 
this unhappy moment they began to suffer hunger; yet continuing for a time to 
increase their numbers, had they been endued with reason, they must have 
apprehended the extremity of famine. In this situation the weakest first gave 
way, and plenty was again restored. Thus they fluctuated between happiness and 
misery, and either suffered want or rejoiced in abundance, according as their 
numbers were diminished or increased; never at a stay, yet nearly balancing at 
all times their quantity of food. This degree of aequipoise was from time to 
time destroyed, either by epidemical diseases or by the arrival of some vessel 
in distress. On such occasions their numbers were considerably reduced; but to 
compensate for this alarm, and to comfort them for the loss of their companions, 
the survivors never failed immediately to meet returning plenty. They were no 
longer in fear of famine: they ceased to regard each other with an evil eye; all 
had abundance, all were contented, all were happy. Thus, what might have been 
considered as misfortunes, proved a source of comfort; and, to them at least, 
partial evil was universal good.
When the Spaniards found that the English privateers resorted to this island for 
provisions, they resolved on the total extirpation of the goats, and for this 
purpose they put on shore a greyhound dog and bitch.(11) These in their turn 
increased and multiplied, in proportion to the quantity of food they met with; 
but in consequence, as the Spaniards had foreseen, the breed of goats 
diminished. Had they been totally destroyed, the dogs likewise must have 
perished. But as many of the goats retired to the craggy rocks, where the dogs 
could never follow them, descending only for short intervals to feed with fear 
and circumspection in the rallies, few of these, besides the careless and the 
rash, became a prey; and none but the most watchful, strong, and active of the 
dogs could get a sufficiency of food. Thus a new kind of balance was 
established. The weakest of both species were among the first to pay the debt of 
nature; the most active and vigorous preserved their lives. It is the quantity 
of food which regulates the numbers of the human species. In the woods, and in 
the savage state, there can be few inhabitants; but of these there will be only 
a proportionable few to suffer want. As long as food is plenty they will 
continue to increase and multiply; and every man will have ability to support 
his family, or to relieve his friends, in proportion to his activity and 
strength. The weak must depend upon the precarious bounty of the strong; and, 
sooner or later, the lazy will be left to suffer the ,natural consequence of 
their indolence. Should they introduce a community of goods, and at the same 
time leave every man at liberty to marry, they would at first increase their 
numbers, but not the sum total of their happiness, till by degrees, all being 
equally reduced to want and misery, the weakly would be the first to perish.
To procure a more ample, certain, and regular supply of food, should they cut 
down their woods and take to breeding cattle, this plenty would be of long 
continuance; but in process of time its limits would be found. The most active 
would acquire property, would have numerous flocks and numerous families; whilst 
the indolent would either starve or become servants to the rich, and the 
community would continue to enlarge till it had found its natural bounds, and 
balanced the quantity of food.
Should they proceed to agriculture, these bounds would be much extended, and 
require ages before the straitness would be felt again. In process of time a 
compleat division of labour would take place, and they would have not only 
husbandmen, but artists, manufacturers, and merchants, monied men and gentlemen 
of landed property, soldiers and men of letters, with all their servants, to 
exchange their various commodities and labours for the produce of the soil. A 
noble author, in the north of Britain, is of opinion, that "a nation can scarce 
be too populous for husbandry, as agriculture has the singular property of 
producing food in proportion to the number of consumers."(12) But is it not 
clear, that when all that is fertile has been cultivated to the highest pitch of 
industry, the progress must of necessity be stopped, and that when the human 
species shall have multiplied in proportion to this increase of food, it can 
proceed no further? Indeed, as we have remarked already of the savage state, 
should they establish a community of goods, their numbers for a time would 
certainly increase; but the quantity of food not being augmented in proportion, 
and that which had been sufficient only for a given number being now distributed 
to the increasing multitude, all would have too little, and the weakly would 
perish sooner than if he who tilled the soil had been left to reap the undivided 
fruits of his industry and labour. Nations may for a time increase their numbers 
beyond the due proportion of their food, but they will in the same proportion 
destroy the ease and comfort of the affluent, and, without any possible 
advantage, give universality to that misery and want, which had been only 
partial. The course of nature may be easily disturbed, but man will never be 
able to reverse its laws.
The earth is no where more fertile than it is in China, nor does any country 
abound so much in people; yet the cries of deserted children prove, that even 
they have found limits to their population. Few countries have been more 
productive than the land of Canaan was; a land described as flowing with milk 
and honey, fertile in corn, and rich in pastures: yet even in the land of Canaan 
they had many poor; and it was said to them, but not in the way of threatening, 
"the poor shall never cease from among you."(13) Indeed it was impossible they 
ever should, because whilst men have appetites and passions, what but distress 
and poverty can stop the progress of population? The inhabitants of Europe are 
said to have doubled their numbers every five hundred years: from which we may 
infer that their quantity of food has been doubled in these periods. Throughout 
America, for the same reason, they have been doubled every five-and-twenty 
years; and in some colonies, in the space of fifteen years.
If a new and equal division of property were made in England, we cannot doubt 
that the same inequality which we now observe would soon take place again: the 
improvident, the lazy, and the vicious, would dissipate their substance; the 
prudent, the active, and the virtuous, would again increase their wealth. If the 
legislature were to make this distribution, the evil would not be equal to the 
injustice of the measure: things would soon return into their proper channel, 
order and subordination would be again restored, diligence would be encouraged, 
and the virtuous would be fed. But by establishing a permanent community of 
goods, and neither increasing the quantity of food, nor limiting the number of 
those who are to share it, they divert the occasional surplus of national wealth 
from the industrious to the lazy, they increase the number of unprofitable 
citizens, and sow the seeds of misery for the whole community; increasing the 
general distress, and causing more to die for want, than if poverty had been 
left to find its proper channel.
It is well known that our commons, without stint, starve all our cattle. Here we 
clearly see the natural effects of that community of goods, which the poor laws 
would render universal. In the infancy of the Christian church, this experiment 
was fairly tried; but even whilst the Apostles, blest with a perfect knowledge 
of the human heart, were yet alive, it was found to be intolerable. We have 
adopted it in England; and what has been the consequence? Are poverty and 
wretchedness unknown? or rather, are not poverty and wretchedness increasing 
daily, in exact proportion with our efforts to restrain them? One of the nearest 
writers of the English nation, who understood this subject, has well observed, 
"the sufferings of the poor are less known than their misdeeds: they starve, and 
freeze, and rot among themselves; but they beg, and steal, and rob among their 
betters. There is not a parish in the liberty of Westminster, which doth not 
raise thousands annually for the poor; and there is not a street in that 
liberty, which doth not swarm all day with beggars, and all night with thieves." 
His expression is nervous, his description animated; but even the simple truth, 
when divested of all its ornaments, must excite astonishment. The effect is 
striking; but the cause of this phaenomenon will be evident to those only who 
can examine it with a fixed attention.
There is a parish in the West of England which has never wanted poor, and in 
which, excepting for one short period, the poor have never wanted work; yet 
their poverty and misery have uniformly advanced constantly, outstripping all 
efforts which have been made to provide for their distress. The farmers at this 
time pay ten shillings in the pound on the improved rents; yet wretchedness 
seems to have taken up its residence in every cottage, and the most miserable 
are they whose gains have been the greatest.





SECT. IX



On the subject of population we have had warm disputes, whilst some have 
lamented that our numbers are decreasing, and others with confidence have 
boasted that our population has rapidly advanced; all seeming to be agreed, that 
the wealth of a country consists in the number of its inhabitants. When industry 
and frugality keep pace with population, or rather when population is only the 
consequence of these, the strength and riches of a nation will bear proportion 
to the number of its citizens: but when the increase of people is unnatural and 
forced, when it arises only from a community of goods, it tends to poverty and 
weakness. In respect to population, some countries will reach their ne plus 
ultra sooner, and some later, according as they surmount the obstacles which 
impede their progress. This period can be retarded by improvements in 
agriculture, by living harder or by working more, by extensive conquests or by 
increasing commerce.
The cultivation of rice in China enabled them to feed some millions of people, 
more than could have been maintained by any other grain; whereas in the 
highlands of Scotland, where neither rice nor yet wheat will grow, the 
inhabitants soon became a burthen to the soil. Their chief dependance for 
supporting the present population is on frugality, and constant, steady, 
unremitted labour, without any hope of being able to advance their numbers. 
Oatmeal and water, with a litfie milk, is their common food, and to procure this 
they work as long as they can see. They till the soil; they watch their cattle; 
and, at their leisure hours, they spin all the linen and the woollen which their 
families consume.
The Romans, even when they had lost their domestic industry and habits of 
economy, were able to feed their increasing citizens by tribute from the distant 
provinces, as the Spaniards do by purchasing provisions with the gold and silver 
of Peru. The Dutch have no other refuge but in good government, industry, and 
commerce, for which their situation is most favourable. Their pastures are rich, 
but not sufficient to maintain half the number of their inhabitants, who are 
employed and fed by every nation upon earth, but reside in Holland for the 
convenience of the water-carriage, the security of their persons, and the 
protection of their property.
When a country is so far advanced in population as to be distressed for food; 
and when the forementioned resources have been exhausted, it has then reached 
its utmost limits; and in such a case, against increasing want there can be two 
remedies only which are natural, and one unnatural: for either none must marry, 
but they who can maintain a family, or else all who are in distress must 
emigrate. If these natural remedies are rejected, it can remain only for the 
poor to expose their children the moment they are born, which is the horrid 
practice adopted in the richest country upon earth to preserve the community 
from famine. With regard to celibacy, we may observe, that where things are left 
to a course of nature, one passion regulates another, and the stronger appetite 
restrains the weaker. There is an appetite, which is and should be urgent, but 
which, if left to operate without restraint, would multiply the human species 
before provision could be made for their support. Some check, some balance is 
therefore absolutely needful, and hunger is the proper balance; hunger, not as 
directly felt, or feared by the individual for himself, but as foreseen and 
feared for his immediate offspring. Were it not for this the equilibrium would 
not be preserved so near as it is at present in the world, between the numbers 
of people and the quantity of food. Various are the circumstances to be observed 
in different nations, which tend to blunt the shafts of Cupid, or at least to 
quench the torch of Hymen. In many parts of Europe we see multitudes of both 
sexes, not from policy, but from superstition and religious prejudice, bound by 
irrevocable vows of chastity. In other parts we hear of numbers who are 
compelled to spend their days in a seraglio, where it is not to be expected that 
all should be prolific; whilst in consequence of this unjustifiable practice, a 
corresponding number must pass through the world without leaving a 
representative behind them. But in every country, at least on this side the 
Atlantic Ocean, we find a similar effect from prudence; and without the 
assistance of either a seraglio, or a convent, the younger branches of the best 
families have been left to wither. In every country multitudes would marry, if 
they had a comfortable prospect for themselves, and for their children; but if 
all should listen to this call of nature, deaf to a louder call, the whole world 
in a few years would be distressed with famine. Yet, even in such a case, when 
it is impolitic that all should marry, this should be wholly left to every man's 
discretion, and to that balance of the appetites which nature has established. 
But if, notwithstanding the restraints of distress and poverty, they who are not 
able to maintain a family will yet marry, there can be no resource but in 
emigration. In the highlands of Scotland, when the inhabitants became a burthen 
to the soil, they tried every possible expedient; and, when all others failed, 
their young men with reluctance turned their back upon a country which was not 
able to support them. It is well known that their emigrations are considerable. 
They do not issue forth in assembled multitudes, like swarms from the northern 
hives of old; nor do they, like a torrent, overflow and desolate the adjacent 
countries; but, like the silent dew, they drop upon the richest pastures, and 
wandering to the remotest corners of the earth in quest of food, with the 
industry of bees they collect their honey from the most luxuriant flowers. These 
active, hardy, and laborious people, are to be found in the temperate, in the 
torrid, and in the frigid zones, in every island, and on every habitable 
mountain of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. Yet in their native country the 
numbers never fail: the supply is constant. Now, if, instead of collecting for 
themselves wherever food is to be found, these wanderers had been equally 
supported on their barren mountains by contributions from the more fertile 
rallies of the South, can we imagine that the births in Scoff and would be fewer 
than they are at present? The overflowings of their population might have been 
accelerated, but could not thereby have been retarded. Having no contributions 
from the South, they have quitted their country, and made room for others. We 
are told, upon the best authority,(14) that in the highlands of Scotland, a 
woman will bring twenty children into the world, and rear only two. Had she 
sufficient food for more, more would live. The women there, like the women in 
all countries .which are come to their utmost height of population, are more 
prolific than the soil. To provide more food on their bleak and barren 
mountains, is beyond a question.' But if now, to rear these twenty children, a 
poor's rate were to be collected in more fertile countries, yet in countries 
which are fuliy peopled in proportion to their labour and to the produce of the 
soil, is it not evident, that the scarcity and distress would only be 
transferred, and that the children of the South must die, that the children of 
the North might live? But supposing these should live; yet at best they could 
only take the place of those that died, and more women in the North would 
increase and multiply, till they felt the same degree of pressure which they 
feel at present. Neither Switzerland nor the coast of Africa are depopulated by 
emigrations, because the quantity of food in each remains unaltered. It is with 
the human species as with all other articles of trade without a premium; the 
demand will regulate the market.
By establishing a community of goods, or rather by giving to the idle and to the 
vicious the first claim upon the produce of the earth, many of the more prudent, 
careful, and industrious citizens are straitened in their circumstances, and 
restrained from marriage. The farmer breeds only from the best of all his 
cattle; but our laws choose rather to preserve the worst, and seem to be anxious 
lest the breed should fail. The cry is, Population, population! population at 
all eventsl But is there any reasonable fear of depopulation? We have seen that 
corn upon an average has been considerably cheaper since the commencement of the 
present century, than it was for an equal term be~ fore; yet wages have been 
raised in the proportion of six to four, and the rent of land is doubled. May we 
not infer from hence, that the produce of the soil must have increased nearly in 
the same proportions. If we consider the improvements which have been made in 
agriculture, by clearing woods, inclosing wastes, draining morasses, laying the 
common fields in severally, and making roads; by the introduction of clover, 
saintfoin, turneps, and potatoes; by the breaking up of extensive downs; and by 
the superior skill of the present race in the management of all sorts of land, 
with respect to stocking, manuring, cropping, not forgetting their superior 
weight of capital to work with; we shall cease to wonder at this vast increase 
of produce. But is it possible that the produce should be thus increased, and 
not the people also who consume it? We need not desire any man to visit London, 
Norwich, Bath, Bristol, Hull, Liverpool, Leeds, Wakefield, Manchester, and 
Birmingham; we need not call upon him to view our mines of coal, copper, lead, 
iron, and tin, with all the new manufactures which depend on these: but let him 
at least count our flocks, and calculate the quantity of corn produced by recent 
improvements in our tillage; then let him ask himself if our population is 
increased.
Whilst food is to be had, there is no fear of wanting people. But should the 
population of a country get beyond the produce of the soil, and of the capital 
engaged in trade, how shall these people find employment? Whenever this shall be 
the case, the evil will increase, and the capital will go on constantly 
diminishing; like as in private life, when a gentleman breaks in upon his 
principal to pay the ordinary expences of his family. When a trading nation is 
obliged to spend more than the revenue which is derived from commerce, and not 
from accident, but as the effect of some abiding cause, exceeds continually the 
profit of its trade, without some substantial reformation, the ruin of that 
nation will be inevitable. Should the capital itself accumulate, the interest of 
money would be lowered, the demand for labour would increase, and the 
superlucration on this increase of trade would continue to enlarge the capital. 
Speculation apart, it is a fact, that in England we have more than we can feed, 
and many more than we can profitably employ under the present system of our 
laws.





SECT. X



All the effects which I have been describing, have not been fully felt. Let it 
however be remembered, that a distinction must be made between those evils which 
have already been severely felt, and the greater evils which in the course of 
nature and due time may be expected. The tendency of a law may be most 
destructive; yet, by adventitious circumstances, the bad consequences may be 
checked and prevented for a season. It is not to be imagined that men, who by 
close application and watchful attention to their. business, by rigid frugality 
and hard labour, have made a decent provision for their families, should freely 
part with a considerable proportion of their property, or suffer it to be taken 
from them without strong efforts to retain it. For more than a century the 
struggles have been obstinate and unremitted, yet for more than a century the 
poor's rates have been constantly increasing. From time to time, as men remarked 
the rapidity of this progress, their exertions were more than common, and some 
transient reformation was effected. When at last they found, that they had no 
other way remaining to protect the fruits of industry from the extravagant 
demands of indolence, and from the undistinguishing benevolence of power, they 
adopted, from necessity and not from choice, the miserable expedient of building 
workhouses. Till these are completely filled, and even after they are full, they 
serve a double purpose: they disarm the magistrate, they intimidate the poor.
As the law now stands, the parish officers, in certain cases, may build houses 
on the waste for the reception of the impotent and aged; but they have been 
hitherto so prudent as not to exercise a power, which would be destructive to 
themselves, without being beneficial to the poor. Happily the justices of peace 
have no legal authority to augment the number of our cottages. There can be no 
compulsion in this case. Some of them indeed have indirectly attempted this, but 
they have been resisted by the more provident and wary in most parishes. Hence 
the number of houses becomes a gage, at once to measure and to regulate the 
extent of population. In every village will be found plenty of young men and 
women, who only wait for habitations to lay the foundation of new families, and 
who with joy would hasten to the altar, if they could be certain of a roof to 
shelter them at night. It has been chiefly from the want of houses that the poor 
have not more rapidly increased. If the most opulent parishes in the kingdom 
were obliged to find habitations, as they are to provide work, or food and 
raiment for the poor, they would be themselves reduced in a course of years to 
such extreme distress, that all moveable stock would be carried off, the land 
would be left uncultivated, the houses would go to ruin, and the poor would 
starve. As the rents have been advancing, new houses have been built; but 
hitherto the progress has been retarded by the superior values of money in the 
public funds. Should the present law subsist, the value of land will sink, and 
the rent of cottages will rise; each in proportion to the burthen of the poor, 
and the demand for houses. It is true, by a statute made in the thirty-first 
year of Queen Elizabeth, there is a penalty on every person who shall build a 
cottage without assigning four acres of land to be held for ever with it; but 
this statute, with which her famous poor law is in perfect harmony, and which, 
if observed, would have prevented the greatest evils felt and to be feared from 
the unlimited provision for the poor, has been long neglected, or perhaps was 
never regarded. The penalty is ten pounds for the first erection of the cottage, 
and forty shillings per month as long as it shall be occupied. Had this law 
remained in force, or had it been constantly observed, the poor would not have 
multiplied; but then the manufactures would not have flourished in the kingdom 
as they do at present. Under this law it is evident, that no poor man could 
marry till there was a cottage vacant to receive him; for no inmates were 
allowed.
The last circumstance which remains to be assigned, as having checked and 
prevented for a season the evil consequences resulting from our poor laws, is 
the shame and reproach of being relieved by a parish: but these have long since 
ceased to operate. It is high time, therefore, that more effectual provision 
should be made for the protection of industry in affluence, and for the relief 
of industry in the seasons of distress.





SECT. XI



The best politicians in Europe have condemned the present system of our poor 
laws. Among these we may reckon two great and distinguished writers; one 
universally admired for his incomparable work on the spirit of laws; the other 
for his most elegant and judicious comment on the laws of England. A nobleman, 
who stands foremost among the literati in the north of Britain, has more freely 
and more fully delivered his opinion, and perfectly coincides in sentiment with 
those able lawyers. These respectable authors have condemned the principles, 
whilst others have blamed only the execution of our laws. But all who are even 
in the least degree acquainted with the subject have lamented, that two millions 
should be annually expended on the poor without relieving their distress.





SECT. XII



If it were possible to meet with proper persons to execute our laws, they would 
not be so hurtful to the community as they are at present. But where shall we 
find men qualified to be at once trustees and guardians for the public and for 
the poor? An overseer should be endued with more than common patience; willing 
to hear with calmness and composure the complaints of the most untoward and 
perverse; blest with a command of temper such as few possess. He should be 
diligent and active, that he may visit the habitations of the poor, and examine 
with his own eyes the nature, the extent, and the cause of their distress. He 
should be a man of good understanding, sharp, sensible, and well-informed, that 
he may know what is the best, the cheapest, and the most effectual method, at 
once to relieve and to employ the poor. He should be a man of penetration, quick 
in discerning, and ready in detecting the false pretences of impostors. He 
should be a man of the most humane and compassionate disposition; not merely 
that he may shed the sympathizing tear, but that he may exert himself to the 
utmost to comfort and support the sick, and properly to sweeten the bitter cup 
for those who are drinking the dregs of life. He should be at the same time a 
man of firmness and resolution; not to be worn out and teazed into compliance, 
nor yet to be moved either by threats or by deceitful tears. He should be 
inexorably just, considering the public fund, out of which he is to relieve the 
poor, as a most sacred deposit committed to his care, in confidence that he will 
administer it to the best of his judgment and ability. He should be a man of a 
disinterested and honest disposition, that, in the discharge of this important 
trust, he may neither directly nor indirectly defraud the public, either to 
favour his friends or to promote his trade. In one word, if in him should centre 
all the excellencies, which are scattered with a sparing hand among the human 
race; if he had no other trade, occupation, or pursuit which required his 
attention; if, thus qualified, he were willing to give up his time for the 
benefit of the public, and for the comfort of the poor; if a succession of such 
were to be found, and if their power were supreme, subject to no controul from 
the interference of a magistrate; the burthen might yet bc tolerable, and some 
of the evils, naturally attendant on the present system of our poor laws, 
instead of being severely felt, would for the present be seen only at a 
distance.
Many parishes have been sensible of this difficulty, more especially in the 
cloathing counties: but as if, whilst they severely felt it, they had only 
indistinctly seen it, they have made application to parliament, complaining that 
the business was too much for the attendance and attention of four overseen; and 
therefore praying, that one additional overseer might be appointed with absolute 
and sole authority to grant relief. Their argument appears to be absurd, but 
their meaning is precise and clear. They would be thus at liberty to choose the 
most proper person for the charge; and he, having little else to do, could pay 
more attention to the business. The event has in some measure answered their 
expectation; but, at best, this can be considered only as a good expedient to 
palliate one of those many bad effects which flow from a pernicious law.





SECT. XIII



To remedy these evils, various have been the schemes recommended to the public, 
by men who have been revered for the strength of their understandings, the 
extent of their knowledge, and the uprightness of their intentions. They have 
chiefly recommended palliatives; and such only have been tried, yet with little 
or with no effect. They have indeed checked the evil for a time, and only for a 
time, to return with accumulated force: for, notwithstanding all their efforts, 
the tax collected to relieve the poor is swelled in many places from ten or 
twelve pounds annually to five hundred pounds a year, where no manufactures have 
been established; and in the manufacturing parishes, from little or nothing to 
fifteen hundred, two thousand, and even three thousand pounds a year.
The legislature began with requiring the consent of two justices of peace, 
before the overseers could have power to relieve the poor.(15) They then 
insisted that none should be relieved, but those who were put upon the list by 
the parishioners assembled in their vestry, or by authority under the hand of a 
justice.(16) After this it was enacted, that no justice of peace should grant an 
order, without having examined upon oath the party making application to him for 
relief.(17) Upon all these conditions we hear the legislature constantly 
complaining that the evil still went on increasing.
The expedient which has been most often tried, has been to compel both the 
pauper and his family to wear the Roman P in scarier cloth upon their 
shoulders;(18) and from this much was expected, but in vain. It has operated, 
indeed, as a partial repeal of a bad law, repealing however all that could be 
considered as valuable, and leaving all that is noxious to the state; 
discouraging only the ingenuous, the modest, and the meek, that there may be the 
more for those who, lost to shame, have long since forgot to blush. Of all human 
inventions, none can be more cruel than this. You invite the poor, you offer him 
relief, but you will give it only upon this condition, that he shall receive it 
with a mark of infamy. The overseers are liable to a fine, if they do not impose 
this mark upon the indigent; but such is their humanity, that they risk the 
penalty rather than reproach the wretched with his poverty. Should they give 
this badge to some, they must impose it upon all. The worthless and the impudent 
would not regard it; the modest would sooner die than wear it. There is no doubt 
that time would reconcile them to it, more especially when they saw none or few 
without it; but then, what purpose would it answer? Whilst it took effect, it 
would be hurtful: when it ceased to operate, it would be useless.
Finding the futility of this device, the most common refuge has been to 
parochial and provincial workhouses; against which there appear insuperable 
objections. It was thought, that with watchful attention the poor would do more 
work under one roof, and be fed much cheaper, than when dispersed in their 
several cottages. An expectation, however, which experience has never yet 
confirmed. Even in parochial workhouses, and in those which are under the best 
regulation, the poor do so little work, that the produce of their labour almost 
escapes our notice, whilst they are maintained at a most enormous expence. In 
their cottages they might live comfortably on the average of four pounds each; 
whereas under the management of the public they cost from five to ten, and even 
twelve pounds each, per annum. It is not reasonable to imagine, that men, 
deprived of liberty, will work for others with the same chearful activity as 
when working for themselves; or that they will be contented with the hard and 
homely fare, which they could eat with thankfulness, whilst as freemen they were 
surrounded with their friends. It is hope that must sweeten all our labours. Let 
a man have no pursuit, no exercise for his hopes and fears, and you may as well 
take the marrow from his bones, which was designed by nature to supple all his 
joints. You may feed him well; but, without making him a more useful member in 
society, you will leave him to drag on a miserable existence, a burthen to 
himself and to the public. It is now a maxim universally received, that the 
service of a slave is the dearest service which can be had. Let a man consult 
his own feelings, and the reason will be obvious.
The terror of being sent to a workhouse acts like an abolition of the poor's tax 
on all who dread the loss of liberty. It is in effect a virtual repeal, as far 
as it extends, of those laws, which should long since have given place to better 
regulations. But unfortunately the most worthy objects suffer most by this 
repeal, and the advantage to the public is little more than negative. The quiet 
and the cleanly dread the noise and nastiness, even more than the confinement of 
a workhouse. They pant for the pure and wholesome air, which they can never hope 
to breathe where numbers are confined within narrow limits, and sigh for that 
serenity and peace, which they must despair to find where the most profligate of 
the human species are met together. By the fear of being sentenced to such 
society, many, who deserve a better fate, struggle with poverty till they sink 
under the burthen of their misery. Against county workhouses, improperly called 
houses of industry, the objections are much stronger. The buildings, the 
furniture, the salaries, the waste, and the imposition, every thing is upon a 
large and expensive scale, without its being possible to preserve, for any 
length of time, a system of economy. At first, indeed, there might be great 
exertion; but the novelty being over, few gentlemen would be found public 
spirited enough to continue their attendance and attention to a business in 
which, as individuals, they would be so little interested, and for which they 
must give up more important or more pleasant engagements and pursuits. By 
experience it is found, that without reckoning interest upon the prime cost of 
either furniture or buildings, the poor in these extensive establishments are 
not maintained for less than I have stated. But whilst the experience is so 
enormous, are they happy? Far from happy, they are wretched. With all the 
discomforts of a parochial workhouse, they feel themselves in a hopeless state 
of banishment from their relations and connections. It is true, they eat, they 
drink, and they are miserable. This kind of banishment has the same effect in 
part as a repeal of the poor laws, because few are willing to be thus relieved. 
These houses of industry cannot be vindicated, either in point of comfort or 
economy: if they have therefore any merit, it can be only that kind of merit 
which I have stated; and if it be wise to have recourse to them, it would be 
much wiser directly to repeal the laws, against the depredations of which these 
houses are to protect your property. A county workhouse, at best, may be 
considered as a colony to which a few of the superabundant members of the 
community have' been transported to make room for others; or it may be 
considered as a new manufacture, beneficial in its progress to employ the idle 
hands; beneficial, if it were possible to make a profit on their labour; yet 
like other manufactures, under the present system of our laws, increasing the 
number and the distresses of the poor.
That gentlemen of landed property should have taken the alarm, and that all who 
feel the burthen of the poor should wish to be relieved, is not to be wondered 
at. Yet surely we may be permitted to express astonishment, that when in the 
year 1775 the House of Commons were to provide a remedy for the growing evil, no 
expedient should present itself, but to erect county workhouses.
They resolved, 1. That the laws relating to the poor are defective, and the good 
purposes intended by them in many respects prevented.
2. That the money raised for the relief of the poor is a grievous, and, if no 
new regulations are made, will be an increasing burthen upon the public.
They then recommended county workhouses, leaving the parishes at liberty to draw 
at discretion on the county stock, for the relief of such as were not proper 
objects for a workhouse.
The counties, however, were not weak enough to accept an offer which must have 
entailed a tax of four shillings in the pound on their estates for ever, without 
procuring any benefit to the public, to the land-owner, to the farmer, or to the 
poor,
Another experiment, and the last which I shall mention, is the most abominable 
that ever was invented: it is to farm the poor, In some parishes they are farmed 
at so much an head, but in others the contract is for a given sum. In one parish 
in Gloucestershire a contractor had agreed to take all the expence of the poor 
upon himself for a very moderate consideration. Taking the present numbers in 
confinement, he has only two shillings a week for each; yet out of this he is to 
be at the charge of all litigations and removals, and to relieve all others who 
are not proper objects for a workhouse, and after all to make a profit for 
himself.
All these expedients have the same tendency. They are adopted with a professed 
intention to lower the poor rates; and it is confessed, that many are thereby 
deterred from making application for relief, who would otherwise be a burthen to 
the public. But then is not this a partial, impolitic, oppressive repeal of a 
bad law, without reducing the tax; for it continues to increase, and without 
making a better provision for those among the poor who are most worthy of 
attention?
Having thus endeavoured to display the imperfections which are most obvious in 
our management of the poor, let us now examine the provision made for their 
relief by other nations.
In the early ages of the world there could be no great difficulty in this 
matter, as the quantity of food was more than could be consumed. In process of 
time, when property had got footing in the world, they, who had neither flocks 
nor herds, became slaves, and, selling themselves for bread, together with their 
children, constituted the principal treasure of the rich. When the rich had so 
fir increased their stock, that their cattle had not sufficient room to feed, 
they quilted their ancient habitations, and sought new settlements. Thus it is 
said, that Abraham was very rich in cattle, that he had sheep and oxen, and men 
servants and maid servants, and camels and asses, and silver and gold. The same 
nearly was the prosperity of Lot. But when the land was not able to bear them 
with their flocks and with their herds, they agreed to part, and Lot chose for 
himself the plains of Jordan. When the offspring of Abraham settled in the land 
of Canaan, they continued the same mode of relieving the distressed, only with 
this exception, that in the seventh year the poor, who had sold himself, was to 
go out free. This custom of exchanging their liberty for bread was followed by 
most of the nations upon earth, and was the general practice of the world, till 
Christianity prevailed, and became the established religion of the Roman empire. 
The milder genius of this religion, which proclaims liberty to the captive, and 
the opening of the prison doors to them that are bound, abhorrent to slavery in 
all its forms, has almost banished that cruel custom from our world; and in its 
stead has made the best possible provision for the poor, leaving them to be 
supported by the free bounty of the rich. It is true, the mistaken zeal of its 
first converts, inflamed by the expectation of that transcendent glory which the 
gospel had revealed to them, poured contempt upon their visible possessions of 
houses and of lands. These they sold, and being all of one heart, and of one 
soul, they agreed to have all things common.(19) But no such community of goods 
received the sanction of divine authority. When Peter reproached Ananias, it was 
for his falsehood only: "Whilst the land remained, was it not thine own; and 
after it was sold, was it not in thine own power?"(20)
The positive injunctions of the gospel are clear and distinct, and should never 
have been forgot. "Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him 
give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a chearful giver."(21) 
These voluntary contributions were collected on the first day of every week, 
when they assembled at .their public worship. The Christian dispensation gives 
the highest encouragement to the overflowings of benevolence, but at the same 
time leaves every man at liberty to give or not to give, proceeding upon this 
maxim, that it should be lawful for a man to do what he will with his own. 
Whilst however the followers of this religion are left to their own judgment and 
discretion, they are under the strongest obligations to be liberal in their 
donations, and to relieve the distresses of their fellow creatures to the utmost 
of their ability. In the description of the great and final judgment of the 
world, it is said, "When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the 
holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory. And before 
him shall be gathered all nations; and he shall separate them one from another, 
as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: And he shall set the sheep on 
his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on 
his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for 
you from the foundation of the world. For I was an hungered, and ye gave me 
meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 
naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye 
came unto me. For inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these my 
brethren, ye did it unto me."(22) From this description we must not too hastily 
conclude that the charity of Christians is to be indiscriminate and blind. Among 
the various objects of distress a choice is to be made, selecting first those 
which are most worthy, and reserving the residue for those who have nothing but 
their misery to excite compassion. Let the virtuous citizen be fed, then let the 
profligate and the prodigal share all that prudence and frugality shall have 
left behind them. To reverse this order is neither politic nor just: for surely 
nothing can be more inconsistent with equity, than to give the bread of industry 
to indolence and vice. Christian charity was never meant to discourage diligence 
and application, nor to promote among men a wanton dissipation of their 
substance. The Apostle of the Gentiles, both by example and by precept, teaches 
a lesson which too many among the poor have yet to learn. We hear him thus 
appealing to his converts: "We did not eat any man's bread for nought; but 
wrought with labour and travel night and day, that we might not be chargeable to 
any of you: not because we have not power, but to make ourselves an example unto 
you to follow us. For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if 
any would not work, neither should he eat."(23)
For many centuries the nations of Europe had no other way of providing for their 
increasing poor, when occasional benefactions became inadequate to their wants, 
but by driving them out, like swarms, to seek new settlements. It was not then 
difficult for warlike tribes, issuing forth in countless numbers, with their 
flocks and with their herds, to make an impression, when at any time they fumed 
their arms against the peaceable inhabitants of more cultivated countries. But 
now that all have quilted the shepherd life and taken to agriculture; now that 
each nation, although more numerous than formerly, is hemmed in by nations equal 
to itself in numbers, wealth, and military ardour; it is become necessary to 
provide for their poor at home. This they have attempted by public hospitals and 
private benefactions. With regard to hospitals, they find that these only remove 
the evil for a time, and in the issue extend the bounds of extreme poverty and 
wretchedness. They at first pleased themselves with the idea, that they had put 
an end to human misery; but they soon found it returning back upon them, and the 
vacant places, which had been left by those provided for in their public 
hospitals, filled up again by objects of distress. When at Lions they opened an 
hospital with forty beds for the reception of the poor, they could fill only 
half that number, but now eight hundred beds are not sufficient; and when they 
built the hospital of Saltpetriere, near Paris, it had few inhabitants, but now 
they lodge twelve thousand; and yet to their astonishment they find, that 
instead of having banished distress and poverty, they have increased the number 
of the poor. The effect has filled them with amazement; but they do not seem to 
have as yet discovered, that they have been attempting to stop a rapid river in 
its progress, and to push back the waters of the oceans.
In Holland their chief dependance is on voluntary contributions, and a rigid 
execution of the laws; and in Holland are to be seen more industry and fewer 
criminals, than are to be found in the best governed countries in Europe of the 
same extent.





SECT. XIV



I am now come to the most arduous part of my undertaking. Some remedy must be 
found for the growing evil, and those which have been hitherto proposed have 
been found inadequate. In laying down a plan, I shall begin with establishing 
the general principles on which we must proceed.
It is evident then, that no system can be good which does not, in the first 
place, encourage industry, economy, and subordination; and, in the second place, 
regulate population by the demand for labour.
To promote industry and economy, it is necessary that the relief which is given 
to the poor should be limited and precarious. "Languescet industria, intendetur 
socordia, si nullus ex se metus aut spes; et securi omnes aliena subsidia 
expectabunt, sibi ignavi, nobis graves." No man will be an economist of water, 
if he can go to the well or to the brook as often as he please; nor will he 
watch with solicitous attention to keep the balance even between his income and 
expenditure, if he is sure to be relieved in the time of need. The labouring 
poor at present are greatly defective, both in respect to industry and economy. 
Considering the numbers to be maintained, they work too little, they spend too 
much, and what they spend is seldom laid out to the best advantage. When they 
return from threshing or from plough, they might card, they might spin, or they 
might knit. We are told, that one thousand pair of Shetland stockings are 
annually imported into Leith, of which the price is from five to seven pence a 
pair: yet labour at Learwick, the small capital of Shetland islands, is ten 
pence a day. These stockings are made at leisure hours. In these islands they 
have no dependance but upon their industry and frugality. They consume neither 
tea, nor sugar, nor spices, because they cannot afford to purchase these useless 
articles; neither do they wear stockings or shoes, till by their diligence they 
have acquired such affluence as to bear this expence. How different is theirs 
from the dress and diet of our common people, who have lost all ideas of 
economy.* If by their industry they could procure these articles of luxury, or 
if their linen, their cotton, and their silk, were spun, and wove, and knit in 
their own houses, and at leisure hours, their desire to obtain these things 
would be advantageous to the state: but surely, if in the colder regions of the 
North these are not essential to their existence, or even to their happiness, 
they should be considered in the South only as the rewards of industry, and 
should never, from the common fund, be given promiscuously to all, as they will 
inevitably be, unless that fund shall have some other limits besides the wants 
and expectations of the poor. Unless the degree of pressure be increased, the 
labouring poor will never acquire habits of diligent application, and of severe 
frugality. To increase this pressure, the poor's tax must be gradually reduced 
in certain proportions annually, the sum to be raised in each parish being fixed 
and certain, not boundless, and obliged to answer unlimited demands. This 
enormous tax might easily in the space of nine years be reduced nine-tenths; and 
the remainder being reserved as a permanent supply, the poor might safely be 
left to the free bounty of the rich, without the interposition of any other law. 
But if the whole system of compulsive charity were abolished, it would be still 
better for the state. I am not singular in this opinion. Baron Montesquieu has 
given his opinion, "Que des secours passages vaudroient mieux que des 
stabissemens perpetuels;"(24) and our own countryman, who had been long 
conversant with this business, has told us, "I am persuaded that to provide for 
the poor, who are unable to work, might be safely left to voluntary charity, 
unenforced by any compulsive law."(25)
To assist the industrious poor, who have neither tools nor materials, but more 
especially to train up the children of the dissolute in useful labour, there 
might be in each parish one or more work-shops, where they might be certain of 
employment, and of daily pay for the work performed. In these shops they should 
neither be lodged nor fed, being taught to depend each for himself on his own 
diligence and patient application to his business. The building, the tools, and 
the materials, would be all that required assistance from the public fund.
The grand resource however should be from the labouring poor themselves, 
previous to their being incumbered with families. They have throughout the 
kingdom a number of friendly societies established, which have been productive 
of good effects, and in some places have reduced the rates. But these societies 
have more than one defect. All their members contribute equally to the public 
fund, without respect to their ability, to the proportion of their gains, or to 
the number of their children. By this regulation some pay too little, others pay 
too much. The sum, which they deposit weekly, is insignificant and trifling when 
compared with what it ought to be. But the greatest misfortune is, that they are 
altogether left to their own option to join these societies or not; in 
consequence of which liberty, many of these associations for mutual assistance 
are going to decay. If this be indeed a good expedient, it should be pushed as 
far as it will go: it should be firmly established, made universal, and 
subjected to wholesome regulations. The unmarried man should pay one quarter of 
his wages weekly, and the father of four young children not more than one 
thirtieth of his income, which is nearly the sum which all contribute to their 
present clubs. To drive them into these societies, no man should be intitled to 
relief from the parochial fund who did not belong to one of these. Thus would 
sobriety, industry, and economy, take place of drunkenness, idleness, and 
prodigality, and due subordination would be again restored.
As long as it should be found expedient to retain a given proportion of the 
present poor tax, the disposal of this should be wholly at the discretion of the 
minister, churchwardens, and overseers, or the majority of them, subject only to 
the orders of a vestry. By this provision the subordination of the poor would be 
more effectually secured, and the civil magistrate would be at liberty to bend 
his whole attention to the preservation of the peace, and to the good government 
of the people.
This plan would be aided and assisted much by laying a sufficient tax upon the 
alehouses to reduce their number, these being the principal nurseries for 
drunkenness, idleness, and vice.
Should things be left thus to flow in their proper channels, the consequence 
would be, that, as far as it is possible according to the present constitution 
of the world, our population would be no longer unnatural and forced, but would 
regulate itself by the demand for labour.
There remains one thing more for the legislature to do, which is to increase the 
quantity of food. This may be done with ease, by laying a tax upon all horses 
used in husbandry, gradually increasing this tax till the farmers have returned 
to the use of oxen. This change would enable England not only to maintain her 
present population, but greatly to increase it. The land which now supports one 
horse, in proper working order, would bear two oxen for draft and for the 
shambles, if not also one cow for the pail; or any two of these, with a man, his 
wife, and his three children. If we consider the number of horses at present 
used for husbandry in this island, should only half that number give place to 
oxen, it would not be easy to calculate, or even to conceive, all the benefits 
and advantages which the public would derive from this vast increase of food. In 
many parishes where they have no manufactures, but the cultivation of the soil, 
the horses consume the produce of more land than the inhabitants themselves 
require. Suppose a parish to consist of four thousand acres of arable and 
pasture land; let this be cultivated by one hundred and fifty horses, and let it 
feed one thousand souls: now if, for the present, we allow only two acres of 
oats and two of hay for each of the horses, the amount will be six hundred 
productive acres, which will be more than sufficient to feed the given number of 
inhabitants. But the fact is, that a horse, to be fully fed, requires five ton 
of hay, and from thirteen to three-and-twenty quarters of oats, per annum, 
according to his work. Some farmers allow the former, and the latter is given by 
the great carriers on the public roads, which would bring the computation to 
about eight acres each for horses used in husbandry; but then few farmers suffer 
their horses to be highly fed. If we allow three acres of pasture for each ox or 
cow, and consider, that in calculating the quantity of land sufficient to 
maintain a team of horses, the needful fallows must be carried to account, we 
shall not be at a loss for food, when we have substituted two oxen, and one 
family of five persons, in the place of every horse.
It must be confessed, that the tax on horses would be apparently a tax on 
husbandry, but in reality it would only be a tax on pride and prejudice. Neither 
would it be a tax for the purpose of revenue, which would certainly be most 
impolitic; but it would be a tax for the regulation of trade, beneficial to the 
public, and highly advantageous to the farmer. In China they use few cattle in 
the cultivation of the soil, and therefore they are able to support a more 
abundant population. By reverting to the antient practice of ploughing with oxen 
instead of horses, we should enjoy the same advantage; and till the population 
of our country had found its utmost limits, we should rejoice in affluence.
With the same intentions, the legislature should facilitate the laying common 
fields in severally, leaving the inclosure of these lands to every man's 
discretion. Wherever these allotments have been carried into execution, the 
value of land has been nearly doubled. Yet, independent of the exertion, the 
time, and the fatigue, requisite to procure a private act of parliament for this 
purpose, the expence of the act itself, and of the consequent inclosure, is more 
than many are to incur. That the improvers of land should be subject to this 
expence is not just, and that men should be obliged to inclose these lands is 
neither just nor wise; because hedge-rows consume much land, stint the growth of 
corn, cause it to lodge, prevent its drying, and barbour birds. If men are left 
at liberty, without restraint, when they find it for their interest to inclose, 
they will inclose.
Should the House of Commons, agreeable to the resolutions of 1775, enter 
seriously into this business, and adopt such regulations as may effectually 
relieve the public from the grievous and still increasing burthen, which for 
more than half a century has been the subject of serious investigation and of 
loud complaints; it will be necessary for magistrates to pay more than common 
attention to the police, till industry and subordination shall be once more 
restored. The reins have been held with a loose hand, at a time when the 
idleness and extravagance,
the drunkenness and dissipation, with the consequent crimes and vices of the 
lower classes of the people, called for the most strenuous exertions of the 
magistrate, and the most strict execution of the laws. 
If the labouring poor, in health, previous to marriage, and whilst their 
families are small, are compelled to raise a fund for their own support, in case 
of sickness or old age; there can be no doubt, that when at any time, from 
peculiar circumstances, this fund shall prove inadequate,
the most liberal contributions will be made to relieve any occasional distress. 
No one can doubt of this, who has witnessed the generous efforts which were 
lately made to assist the woollen manufacturers in Gloucestershire during the 
stagnation of their trade. Money was collected
for them from all the adjacent counties, and in the metropolis, to feed and to 
employ them. At Minchin Hampton in particular, when the poor's tax was seven 
shillings in the pound on the rack rents, and their poor were more than commonly 
distressed, two thousand two hundred persons were cloathed, fed, and set to 
work, by voluntary benefactions. It should be added, for the credit of these 
poor people, that they worked from six in the morning till eight at night. Had 
the manufacture fallen to rise no more, the manufacturers must in reason have 
retired, or must have turned their hands to something else; because no fund, no 
tax, no charitable contributions, can support such a multitude of people when 
their trade is gone. In cases of sudden emergency assistance will be loudly 
called for, and the affluent will not be tardy in sending a supply. The English 
have never yet been charged with want of charity. They need not many arguments 
to excite their pity and compassion: the only difficulty is to restrain the 
impetuosity of their benevolence, and to direct their bounty towards the most 
worthy objects.
Besides these sudden emergencies, affecting the whole districts where extensive 
manufactures are established, individuals must be ever subject to occasional 
distress, from various accidents and from unexpected losses, which, without the 
kind assistance of a friend, they are not able to support. In such 
circumstances, where can the sufferer look for help? Not to the overseers of the 
poor; for their authority does not extend beyond food and raiment. To make good 
his losses, and to support him in his station, industry in distress can find no 
sufficient refuge but in the generous aid of his more affluent and charitable 
neighbours. This refuge will never fail him; nor will they ever suffer him to 
want, if they are able to relieve him, and if he has proved himself worthy of 
compassion.
To relieve the poor by voluntary donations is not only most wise, politic, and 
just; is not only most agreeable both to reason and to revelation; but it is 
most effectual in preventing misery, and most excellent in itself, as 
cherishing, instead of rancour, malice, and contention, the opposite and most 
amiable affections of the human breast, pity, compassion, and benevolence in the 
rich, love, reverence, and gratitude in the poor. Nothing in nature can be more 
disgusting than a parish pay-table, attendant upon which, in the same objects of 
misery, are too often found combined, snuff, gin, rags, vermin, insolence, and 
abusive language; nor in nature can any thing be more beautiful than the mild 
complacency of benevolence, hastening to the humble cottage to relieve the wants 
of industry and virtue, to feed the hungry, to cloath the naked, and to sooth 
the sorrows of the widow with her tender orphans; nothing can be more pleasing, 
unless it be their sparkling eyes, their bursting tears, and their uplifted 
hands, the artless expressions of unfeigned gratitude for unexpected fayours. 
Such scenes will frequently occur whenever man shall have power to dispose of 
their own property. When the poor are obliged to cultivate the friendship of the 
rich, the rich will never want inclination to relieve the distresses of the 
poor.



FINIS.



NOTES:



1. Deut. xxviii. 52. 
2. Job, xxix. 
3. Sir William Petty, P. Arithmetic. 
4. L. ii. p. 73, 74. edit. Elf. 
5. Hesiod, 302. 
6. Geddes, Account of the Moriscoes. 
7. Smith, Wealth of Nations. 
8. Virgil's Complaint. 
9. Dampier, Vol. ii. Part ii. p. 61. 
10. Dampier, Vol. i. Part ii. p. 88. 
11. Ulloa, B. ii. C. 4.. 
12. Sketches on Man, P. 56. 
13. Deut. xv. 11. 
14. Smith, Wealth of Nations. 
15. 43 Eliz. 
16. 3 and 4 W. and M. 
17. 9 Geo. I, c. 7. 
18. 8 and 9 W. c. 30.f.:2. 
19. Acts iv. 32. 
20. Acts v. 4. 
21. 2 Cor. ix. 7. 
22. Matt. xxv. 
23. 2 Thess. iii. 8-10. 
24. L. xxiii. C. 29. 
25. Fielding on Robbers. 
