/ 
 
 University of California • Berkeley 
 Gift of 
 
 Professor Robert D. Pepper 
 
THE 
 
 VISITOR OF THE POOR; 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
 
 THE BARON DEGERANDO, 
 
 A LADY OF BOSTON. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION, 
 
 JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 HILLIARD, GRAY, LITTLE, AND WILKINS. 
 
 1832. 
 
Entered according to the act of Congress in the year 1832, 
 
 by Hilliard, Gray, and Co., 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts, 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 E. W. METCALF AND CO. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I have been requested by the translator of this 
 little book, to give her an Introduction, or Preface 
 to it. I very readily accede to this wish of my 
 friend ; and I shall be glad, and grateful, if my rec- 
 ommendation of the work will exert any influence in 
 attracting attention to it. I have no hope, indeed, 
 of being useful in this cause, beyond a very small 
 circle. But as I am known in the city in which I 
 live, as a Minister of the Poor, and as I have been 
 very favorably regarded here in other efforts I have 
 made to lead public attention to the means of pre- 
 venting and of remedying poverty and crime, I will 
 trust that I may, without further apology, say to those 
 who have read, and have kindly received my Reports, 
 that the work which is here offered for public appro- 
 bation is worthy of the interest and patronage which 
 it solicits. Its author knew the poor, not merely as 
 they are seen in the streets, nor merely as they are 
 represented in books, or as they appear to the casu- 
 al observer in Aims-Houses; but by personal, free, 
 and long-continued intercourse with them in their 
 habitations. He was therefore qualified to write of 
 the poor, as others, who have little or no personal ac- 
 quaintance with them, cannot. It will therefore be 
 perceived, I think, that the details and the senti- 
 
IV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ments of Degerando are neither the fictions of a 
 dreamer, nor the speculations of a theorist; that 
 they bear upon their front the lines of a character, 
 which truth only could have imparted to them. It is 
 but a part of the original work which is here publish- 
 ed. But this little book, I believe, contains all of the 
 original which would be generally interesting to 
 American readers. The translation, too, it may be 
 observed, is very free ; and this, it is confidently 
 thought, will not be considered a fault. I am not 
 willing to doubt whether the book will obtain a good 
 sale, or whether it will be extensively read among us. 
 The name of Degerando has been made familiar to 
 many here by his treatise on Self-Education, and it 
 has a high place in the respect and regard of our 
 reading community. And, should this work be read, 
 it can hardly fail to do something for the great ob- 
 ject it proposes, — a more extended Christian union 
 of the rich with the poor, with a view to a greater ex- 
 tension of human virtue and happiness. 
 
 The aim of this little volume is single and simple. 
 But its object is one of the highest importance. Its 
 design is to awaken, and give excitement to a sense 
 of human relations, wherever sensibility on this great 
 subject is sluggish and inactive ; and wisely direct 
 it, where it is either wasting its power in compara- 
 tively useless efforts, or is perhaps occasioning evil 
 by the very means by which it intends, and hopes 
 for good. For this end, it proposes to make the 
 great classes of the rich and the poor, of the strong 
 and the feeble, of the wise and the unwise, and of 
 the virtuous and the vicious known to each other. It 
 proposes to bring these classes together, not by con- 
 
INTRODUCTION. V 
 
 founding the distinctions between them, but by mak- 
 ing the virtuous, and wise, and strong, and prosper- 
 ed feel, that by communicating of what they have re- 
 ceived, and by acting as the instruments of God's 
 goodness towards those from whom he has made them 
 to differ, they are at once accomplishing the purpos- 
 es for which he instituted the diversities which we 
 see of human condition; and are most effectually 
 promoting their own, by advancing the virtue and 
 happiness of others. Its aim is to extend virtue, and 
 through virtue to extend happiness, by the most 
 simple and legitimate of all means, the exercise of 
 virtue. It seeks the redemption of the victims of 
 poverty and vice, by bringing those who have the 
 means of redeeming them to a knowledge of the ex- 
 posed and wretched condition of their fellow beings, 
 and thus to the exertions which are demanded for 
 their redemption. In this benevolent enterprise, it ad- 
 dresses the sympathies, not only of the rich, but of 
 all who are not poor. It invites, and it solicits those 
 into whose hands it may fall, and who have any 
 means of alleviating human want and suffering, to be 
 visitors of the poor. The physical and temporal re- 
 lief of the poor is here sought, principally through 
 an amelioration of their moral condition ; and much 
 is done to give distinctness to the proper objefets of 
 charitable efforts, and to the principles by which a 
 wise charity should be directed, and regulated. 
 Here are statements, the correctness of which, it is 
 believed, will not be doubted, — for I am quite sure 
 that they are not exaggerations of actual distress, or 
 even of vice or virtue to be found among our own 
 poor, — and which, if admitted to be true, can hardly 
 a* 
 
VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 fail to call forth a very active sympathy with our 
 similarly exposed, and suffering fellow beings. Here, 
 too, are the reasonings of a mind which was as calm, 
 as cautious, asdiscriminating and judicious, as it was 
 zealous and philanthropic. And here are appeals, 
 the most simple, and natural, and touching, which can 
 be addressed to the human heart. I feel indeed no 
 small degree of diffidence in uniting my name, and 
 my voice, with those of this distinguished friend of 
 humanity. But he would not forbid, and will not 
 you allow me, reader, to join with him in the solici- 
 tation, if God have given you the means, not to wait 
 for, but to seek, and if need be to make, opportuni- 
 ties of doing something to supply the pressing neces- 
 sities of those, who cannot make this provision for 
 themselves ; something for the consolation of those 
 distressed ones, who are often suffering without the 
 solace of a human comforter ; something for the suc- 
 cour of those tempted ones, whose greatest exposure 
 is in a want of the means of living honestly, and of 
 a friend to aid, to advise, to encourage, and to guide 
 them ; and something for those, who, having by want 
 and discouragement been led into sin, have not yet 
 lost all their dispositions to virtue, or all their con- 
 victions of duty ; and who may therefore be brought 
 back, and saved, by no means so effectually, as by 
 the notice, and kind regard, and Christian offices, of 
 the lovers of virtue. Let us extend our aid, as we 
 may, to the poor, to the ignorant, to the fallen, and 
 even to the debased, when that aid is most imperi- 
 ously demanded, and they will believe in the reality of 
 virtue, as no mere words would bring them to believe 
 in it, when they have been made to feel its power, 
 
INTRODUCTION. Vll 
 
 by the very exercises of it, of which they have them- 
 selves been the objects. The truth is, — and it will 
 be worse than in vain to overlook or disregard it, — 
 that by nothing short of this sympathy with the poor 
 and suffering, this care for them, and this kindness 
 towards them, can we meet the claims of our religion 
 upon us, as stewards of God, and believers in the 
 gospel of his Son. And it is not less certain, that by 
 nothing short of a recognition of our relation and du- 
 ty to each other, as children of one Father, may we 
 most effectually promote even the best immediate in- 
 terests of society, as far as these interests are con- 
 cerned either in the remedy, or the prevention, of 
 poverty and crime. 
 
 But we must anticipate difficulties in this work, 
 and objections to it. All, it may be said, have nei- 
 ther leisure for it, nor are qualified for its duties. 
 If, then, the service should be extensively, and much 
 more if it should generally be assumed, by those who 
 have any thing to give to the poor, a far greater 
 amount of want would be created, than would be 
 relieved by it ; and it might consequently minister 
 even to the increase of depravity and crime. These 
 are difficulties which demand serious consideration, 
 for in part at least they have strong facts to support 
 them. I will therefore begin with concessions, 
 which will do something to prepare the way for the 
 questions, ' Have you not, reader, sufficient leisure for 
 this service? And, are you indeed not qualified, or 
 might you not qualify yourself, for it ? ' 
 
 First, then, let us look at the plea, 'I have not leis- 
 ure to be a visitor of the poor.' Is this true? I do not 
 say that it is not ; and I admit that the service has 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 no claim upon you, if you have no time which you 
 can spare for it ; for there can be no such thing as a 
 conflict, or even an interference of duties. If it be 
 your duty, in any hour of life, to be in one place, and 
 engaged in one work, it cannot be your duty at the 
 same time to be in another place, and at another 
 work. This is a very important elementary princi- 
 ple, the establishment of which by every individual in 
 his own mind would add immeasurably to the order, 
 and virtue, and happiness of life. There may be, and 
 often is, an interference, and even a strong conflict, 
 of inclinations, and inducements, and immediate inter- 
 ests, which are sometimes most unhappily mistaken 
 for a conflict of duties. But I grant to you, that if your 
 time be actually filled by duties which forbid you to 
 enter upon this service, you are not only right in de- 
 clining it, but you would do wrong if you should 
 engage in it. With this concession in view, may I 
 ask your attention to the inquiries, * How much of 
 your time will be demanded, even for very consider- 
 able usefulness in this office? ' And, ' have you not, 
 in truth, any leisure which you might give to it 1 ' 
 
 Again: It is freely admitted that you may not be 
 qualified for this work, even ifyou shall have leisure 
 for it. You may be too credulous, or too skeptical. 
 You may not be sufficiently alive to a sense of the 
 wants and sufferings of others, or you may have an 
 excessive, or even a diseased sensibility, which you 
 cannot control. You may be too impatient, irritable, 
 and harsh in your judgments of others ; or, too easy 
 to be overcome by their appeals, even against your 
 better judgment. But the most deficient in qualifi- 
 cations for this office are not always those, who, 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 when first called to it, feel most distrustful of their 
 ability for its duties. Nay, it is not unfrequently the 
 case, that they who are the most ready to engage in 
 it, soon show themselves to be the least fitted for it. 
 There is indeed wanted for this service, not only a 
 heart to sympathize with the poor, the feeble, the 
 sick, the widow and the orphan, the tempted and 
 the vicious. To do important, and above all, to do 
 permanent good to these classes of sufferers, we 
 must distinctly understand in what this good consists, 
 and what are the means by which it may most effec- 
 tually be obtained. We must possess, and, if we have 
 it not, we must acquire, a knowledge of the true 
 condition, and character, of those for whom our offi- 
 ces of benevolence are required. We must there- 
 fore carry into the work a teachable mind, and a 
 mind as discriminating and judicious, as it is kindly 
 disposed ; a mind quick to discern the indications 
 both of good and evil, in the objects of its charity, 
 and at once patient, fair, and firm. Nor is this all. 
 We are instruments of the most important good to 
 our suffering fellow creatures, when we aid them, 
 as far as shall be possible, to obtain this good from 
 resources within themselves ; — by assisting them to 
 understand the true causes of their sufferings, when 
 these sufferings are the results of imprudence, or 
 extravagance, or idleness, or intemperance, or of 
 other moral causes which are within their own con- 
 trol ; and by doing what we may to call forth, to di- 
 rect, and to strengthen their capacities of self-sup- 
 port, of usefulness, and happiness. Are you not then, 
 reader, or might you not, by a little practice, be 
 qualified for this office 1 Do not hastily decide that 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 you are not. Even though you may once, or twice, 
 or thrice have been deceived, and imposed upon, by 
 those whom you would have relieved and blessed, be 
 not discouraged. You may yourself have something, 
 and even much, to be forgiven. Besides, experience 
 in this, as in other circumstances of embarrassment 
 and difficulty, will give you wisdom, if you are 
 really desirous to obtain it. But if you have no 
 disposition to be taught by what you may see, and 
 hear, and do, in this intercourse, I do not advise you 
 to be a visitor of the poor. 
 
 But a mere enumeration of the requisites for this 
 office may discourage from it, rather than excite to 
 it. Let us then take an example, which will at once 
 throw light upon the question, of the time that will 
 be required for a very benevolent and useful minis- 
 tration in a family ; and, by describing to a certain 
 extent the service to be performed in it, will do 
 something to assist any one in forming a judgment, 
 whether he is qualified for this service. We will 
 follow a visitor of the poor through his cares and 
 interests for a single family. It is, indeed, a mere 
 supposititious case, as respects the visitor, but real 
 as respects the condition of the family. It is, too, 
 as respects the family, an extreme case. What, 
 then, are these cares ? What are these exertions ? 
 How much time do they require? And, have not 
 you the qualifications which are demanded for this 
 service 'I 
 
 Here, then, are a father and mother, with six 
 children between the ages of infancy and of sixteen 
 years. The father is idle and intemperate, and has 
 passed one term in the House of Correction. The 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 mother is a slattern, inefficient and passionate, and 
 feels little concern for the moral well-being of her 
 children. The eldest child is a son. He is an 
 idler, and is on the verge of vagrancy and crime. 
 The second child is a daughter, whose uncombed 
 hair, and dirty skin, and filthy and tattered attire, 
 are in keeping with an equally neglected mind 
 and heart. She is rude, boisterous, and disobedient ; 
 now a beggar, and now a play-fellow of boys as 
 ignorant, and as much without principle, as herself. 
 Of the younger children, one is a truant, and has 
 already begun to be a pilferer. Another is kept at 
 home because he needs some article of clothing, or 
 some book, without which he cannot go to school ; 
 and another is also from school, because his broth- 
 ers are not there. Is it asked, what can be hoped 
 for in respect to this family ? What can be done 
 in it? Or, where is the man who will attempt the 
 hopeless task of its reformation, and salvation ? 
 
 The charge of this family is undertaken by a 
 visitor of the poor, who has himself a young family, 
 and the charge of a business which ordinarily re- 
 quires the attention of eight or nine hours a day. 
 The little beggar, of whom I have spoken, goes to 
 his house for food. He sees her, and inquires her 
 name, and the residence of her parents; and on the 
 same evening he visits this family. He is recog- 
 nised by the beggar girl, who had informed her 
 mother that a gentleman, at whose house she had 
 been, had said that he would call and see her ; and 
 though he was not at the time expected, it is felt 
 that he has a good reason to give for his appear- 
 ance among them. The poor, disordered, and 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 dirty bed ; the few chairs, either with broken 
 backs, or with no backs ; the table, with four or 
 five unwashed plates upon it, and covered with the 
 fragments of bread, and meat, and vegetables, the 
 contents of the beggar's basket, which had appa- 
 rently been emptied upon the board from the want 
 of a dish to receive them ; the lamp, from the want 
 of a stand to support it, set into the neck of a bot- 
 tle ; the mother, in her person and her dress like 
 the objects around her ; now vociferating for silence 
 among her lawless offspring, and now apologizing 
 for the rudeness of one, and the impassioned cries 
 of another ; now complaining of her husband, from 
 whom she obtains but little assistance, and now of 
 her children, whom she thinks it impossible to gov- 
 ern ; — here, it is acknowledged, is a scene, from 
 which any other than a mind of more than ordinary 
 benevolence would have turned away in utter dis- 
 couragement, and completely self-justified in the 
 determination to leave these unhappy beings to their 
 recklessness, and their ruin. And would you, my 
 kind reader, so have left them? 
 
 There is, however, a sympathy, a benevolence, 
 which, even amidst all these difficulties would not 
 have felt discouragement. We assume, too, that it 
 was not for the satisfaction of an idle curiosity that 
 this visitor had entered this family. He wished to 
 learn the actual condition of those, of whom the 
 little beggar was a representative, and whether 
 something might not be done to recover this little 
 girl from beggary and debasement ; and having seen 
 at least as much misery, and more vice than he had 
 anticipated, he left them with his own heart still 
 
INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 more deeply interested than it had been in the inqui- 
 ry, whether, from this wreck of humanity, one at 
 least, the beggar girl, might not be rescued, and 
 saved 1 Had his thought been extended to the in- 
 quiry, " How may I save this family If " he, also, 
 might have been disheartened. But his purpose is 
 more limited, better defined, and more obviously 
 practicable. He carries home this purpose, and it 
 engages much of his attention ; but it checks him 
 in no duty towards those who are about him there. 
 He even finds time to relate what he has seen to his 
 wife, and to engage her interest in the cause which 
 now occupies his thoughts. For a few days, he 
 often remembers this little beggar; and soon forms 
 the resolution, if her parents will relinquish her to 
 his disposal, that he will find a family in the coun- 
 try to whose care he may commit her ; and thus 
 place her in the way, if she shall be disposed to 
 avail herself of it, of a life of industry, of moral 
 security, and of usefulness. Having formed this 
 purpose, his mind is relieved, and strengthened ; 
 and the first half hour which he can spare is appro- 
 priated to a second visit. 
 
 At the time of this second visit, the father of 
 the family is at home. It required no sagacity to 
 understand what were his habits, and character. I 
 have said that he was intemperate ; and the remark 
 of his wife concerning him, that he did little or 
 nothing for his family, was true. He is also irrita- 
 ble and passionate. The visitor soon intimates his 
 wish to make some better provision for their eldest 
 daughter. The father is offended at the interfer- 
 ence, and imposes no restraint on the expression of 
 b 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 his resentment. But the purpose of the visitor had 
 not been suddenly formed, and he is not disposed 
 suddenly to relinquish it. It was the purpose of an 
 act of most disinterested benevolence which had 
 brought him there ; of a benevolence, therefore, 
 which will not soon be wearied, and will endure 
 much, for the accomplishment of its objects. A 
 pure benevolence, a spirit of Divine Love in the 
 soul, when opposed by angry and unbridled passions, 
 is, like oil, freely poured over the troubled ocean, 
 when it is heaved into billows by a storm. Or, when it 
 meets with silent sullenness, or unfeeling obduracy, 
 it is like the rod with which Moses smote the rock, 
 from which living waters gushed out to refresh, and 
 give new life, to all who drank of them. The visi- 
 tor meets the language of exasperated passion with 
 the language of a deep and generous kindness. It 
 was in vain to say to him, that " his friendship was 
 not wanted ; " that " his kind offices would be ac- 
 cepted when they should be asked for;" and, that 
 " no man should take his child from him." He op- 
 poses calmness to the tumult which he had so inno- 
 cently excited. He admits parental rights, and rea- 
 sons of parental interests. He addresses himself to 
 the deep affections of a parent's heart. And he has 
 the reward, and happiness, of leaving the father 
 soothed ; convinced of the rectitude of his motives, 
 and the kindness of his purpose ; and, willing that 
 he shall come again. He therefore goes again ; 
 and is a visitor in this family once, and sometimes 
 twice in a week. He has sometimes visited them on 
 Sunday. But he has not at any time passed more 
 than half an hour, and sometimes not more than 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 fifteen or twenty minutes with them. The parents 
 have been fruitful in expedients to thwart his gene- 
 rous design. But from time to time he plainly per- 
 ceives that he has gained some new hold upon their 
 confidence, their respect, and even upon their affec- 
 tions. How could it be otherwise ? At little cost, 
 he has provided some simple articles of clothing for 
 the little girl in whose rescue he has felt so strong 
 an interest. He has induced her to clean her skin, 
 to comb her hair, and to give such assistance as she 
 can to her mother. The room in which they live is 
 brought into a better state of order, or rather into a 
 state of less disorder, than was that in which he 
 had at first found it. The little beggar girl has also 
 been to his house two or three times a week for the 
 broken food of the family, on the condition that she 
 should go no where else for the purpose of begging. 
 After an intercourse thus maintained for three 
 months, all the obstacles which were in the way to 
 his object have been overcome. This little girl is 
 placed in a family in the country, where she will 
 have an opportunity for some time to go to school ; 
 where she will be under a wise domestic discipline, 
 and be made a blessing, instead of a curse, to those 
 with whom in her future life she may be connected. 
 Here, then, is his great compensation for his undis- 
 couraged perseverance. He has, indeed, the grati- 
 fication to know that he has done something for the 
 general comfort and improvement of this family. 
 But he has probably saved this little girl from a life 
 of dissoluteness, and degradation, and misery, and 
 premature death. It is not necessary, with equal 
 minuteness of detail, to follow this visitor of the 
 
XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 poor through a year of his care for this family. 
 Suffice it to say, that by continuing his visits some- 
 times once, and sometimes twice in a week, and 
 now directing his interest and endeavours to one 
 object, and now to another, he has made a sailor of 
 the eldest boy, and has given him into the charge of 
 a master, who will do what he may as well to form 
 him to habits of virtue, as to make him a good sea- 
 man. He has persuaded the parents to let him send 
 the truant and pilferer to the House of Reformation ; 
 and the two other boys, of an age to be at school, 
 he has placed, and kept there. He has been per- 
 mitted, also, to reason with the father of the evils of 
 intemperance, and has persuaded him to read tracts, 
 which he has given him, upon this subject. The 
 result has not indeed been that this father is re- 
 claimed from intemperance. But he sometimes 
 abstains from ardent spirits for a week or two ; and 
 generally, when he uses them, drinks far less than 
 he did before. And in consequence of drinking 
 less, he is more disposed to work, and finds more 
 work to do. He therefore makes a better provision 
 for his family. His wife also has learned, that, by 
 picking hair for an upholsterer, with the aid of her 
 children, she may earn fifteen or eighteen cents a 
 day. The children are happier, and more obedient. 
 The room is cleaner, and their food is better. Here, 
 indeed, is not a very high order of virtue. But is 
 not the good which has been conferred on this fam- 
 ily, quite worth what it has cost? Is it nothing, or 
 rather, is it not very much, that there has not been 
 in this family, as there otherwise would have been, 
 a daily decline into deeper vice? I would ask you, 
 
INTRODUCTION. XVii 
 
 then, reader, if you have not as much leisure at your 
 command, as was found by the visitor of this poor 
 family ? Or, is there any part of this service, which 
 you are not qualified to perform ? Do you not 
 waste, — I will not ask if you do not misuse, — in 
 every week, at least as much time, as is here asked 
 for as high and excellent a charity, as can be exer- 
 cised by man ? Will you not, then, if you think 
 that you can do no more, be the visitor, the friend, 
 and if it may be, the saviour, of one family, or of one 
 child, which, without a friend to interpose the offices 
 of Christian kindness, will be exposed to the gross- 
 est vice, and the deepest wretchedness ? 
 
 But there are hundreds of poor families, even in 
 our small city, where few or none of the difficulties 
 to which I have adverted are to be encountered. 
 There are intemperate men, and intemperate wo- 
 men, who will oppose no direct resistance to your 
 efforts to reclaim and save them. And, if you can- 
 not reclaim them, unspeakably great are the bless- 
 ings you may extend to their children. There are, 
 too, poor families in which there is no intemperance. 
 They may lack judgment, or physical strength, or 
 both ; and may not only, in consequence, be exposed 
 to occasional and great want of the necessaries of 
 life, but greatly unfitted for the discharge of paren- 
 tal duties. There are cases, also, of very virtuous 
 wives and mothers, who have intemperate husbands, 
 from whom they receive no aid in the moral charge 
 of their families; and who need this, and would 
 receive it, more gratefully than any other aid. There 
 are aged men, and aged women, of great piety and 
 worth, whose only earthly resource is in the charity 
 b* 
 
XV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of others ; and there are those, who, though not old, 
 are equally infirm, and unable to provide for their 
 own support. I know not, indeed, the intercourse 
 which man may have with man, in which better 
 lessons of wisdom are to be learned, than in free 
 and affectionate communication with some of these 
 families. Would you be taught " the art of Divine 
 Contentment? " Or, would you be made more sen- 
 sible of your blessings, and more grateful for them ? 
 Or, would you have a doubt resolved, whether relig- 
 ion and virtue are realities ? Or would you be in- 
 structed how to use prosperity ; or how to meet, to 
 bear, and to improve under affliction ? Go, and do 
 the good which you may in one or more of these 
 families. Be their friend, their adviser, their com- 
 forter ; and relieve them, if so it must be, at the 
 expense to yourself of some personal gratification. 
 Nor can I fail to particularize the large class of 
 widows, who often need assistance in the govern- 
 ment of their children ; in keeping them at school, 
 and in providing places for them when they are at 
 an age when they cannot go to school. I might, 
 indeed, make a long specification of services, of 
 great importance for those for whom they are to be 
 performed, and which will require but little expense 
 but of sympathy and time. Nor will a mind at once 
 sympathizing and judicious be long ignorant of the 
 most important services which are to be rendered to 
 a poor family, nor of the means of doing them good. 
 The first object, however, let it not be forgotten, is, 
 to obtain their confidence, and, if possible, their 
 affection. If you are qualified to be to them a 
 teacher of the principles and duties of religion, hap- 
 
INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 py will it be both for them, and for yourself. But, if 
 you are not, will it be a small good, if you can grad- 
 ually bring cleanliness into a disordered and filthy 
 family ; if you can teach parents of the importance 
 of a good parental example; if you can check the 
 waywardness and disobedience of children, and en- 
 courage them to love one another, and to obey their 
 parents ; if you can keep children at school, who 
 would otherwise have been idlers at home, and per- 
 haps vagrants ; if, by apprenticing a boy, you shall 
 have rescued him from a prison ; or, by placing a 
 girl in a'w.ell ordered family, you shall have saved her 
 from probable ruin ? Again, then, I beseech you, be- 
 fore you shall decide that you are not qualified for any 
 of these offices, fairly and faithfully to make trial of 
 one, or more of them. If you shall be successful, 
 you will need, and you will ask, no other encourage- 
 ment. The reward, to him who gains it, is immense. 
 It is better than silver or gold. It will make you 
 wish to be immortal, if for no other reason, that you 
 may be a minister of the goodness and mercy of God, 
 as long as there shall be any among all his creatures, 
 to whom the ministry of his mercy may be extended. 
 There are those, indeed, who shrink from the 
 thought of the condition of the children of want and 
 suffering. The office of a visitor of the poor would 
 seem to them to be the office of a self-torturer. They 
 have hardly an association with poverty, but of squal- 
 idness, and ignorance, and debasement, and vice. 
 And all these, it is admitted, are to be found in the 
 abodes of many of the poor. But should even these 
 fellow beings be left in unpitied, and unmitigated 
 misery ? Who has made thee, thou who turnest with 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 revolting and disgust from this spectacle, — who has 
 made thee to differ from these thy fellow mortals, and 
 fellow immortals 1 And, what hast thou, which thou 
 hast not received ? And why did God bestow on thee 
 thine abundance, but that, while he would win thee 
 to the holy exercises of gratitude and love by the 
 multitude of his blessings, he would also honor thee 
 as an instrument of his compassion and goodness to 
 the sufferers, whom he has enabled thee to relieve and 
 bless by his bounty I Away, then, with this morbid 
 sensibility ; this false delicacy ; and despair not to 
 find a remedy of the evil, even in that which appears 
 to thee would be its greatest aggravation, — a friend- 
 ly connexion, and a familiar intercourse, with some 
 poor and distressed family. Let this family be select- 
 ed for you by another, if you know not how to se- 
 lect it for yourself. Go to it, that you may learn 
 how you may be useful to it. Go, and carry with 
 you a garment for a half-clad child, which its parent 
 could not have provided for it ; and gain for your- 
 self an interest in the heart of this child, and avail 
 yourself of this interest to strengthen in its heart the 
 principles of piety and virtue. Go, and do what you 
 wisely may to relieve the most pressing wants of this 
 parent, when she knows not where to look for relief. 
 Go to her when she shall be upon the bed of disease, 
 and alleviate the distresses of sickness by your sym- 
 pathy, your counsels, and consolations ; and by sup- 
 plying her with a few of the comforts with which 
 you would yourself be surrounded, if you were on 
 the bed of sickness. Go, and open your heart to a 
 sensibility, at once of the weakness, and wants, and 
 difficulties, and struggles of this family ; of God's 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 goodnees to yourself; and of the unutterable happi- 
 ness of relieving distress, and of calling forth in the 
 heart a sentiment of true gratitude to God; and you 
 will find that poverty, which, it may be, seemed to 
 you like Shakspeare's "toad, ugly and venomous," 
 may yet " wear a precious jewel in its head." You 
 will find that you may learn from the poor quite as 
 much asyou can teach them ; and may receive, through 
 them, as many, and as important benefits, as you can 
 confer upon them. 
 
 But the difficulty of bringing about a freer inter- 
 course between the educated and the uneducated, 
 the rich and the poor, lies far deeper in the soul. It 
 is, in truth, no other than a prevailing very defective 
 sense of the true nature of human relations, and of 
 the infinite value of the higher principles and capaci- 
 ties of our common nature. Nor is even this all. 
 We do not estimate, and therefore do not feel aright, 
 the worth of our common nature, and are not prepar- 
 ed to feel the strong interests which are connected 
 with a Christian sense of our relation to the poor, the 
 ignorant, the suffering, and even the notoriously vi- 
 cious of our fellow creatures, principally, because we 
 satisfy ourselves with so erroneous, so poor and un- 
 just a sense of the true character of our own nature. 
 Let me say too, that we are made unjust in our 
 estimation of our own nature, alike by the proud and 
 vain, and by the mean conceptions, which we form 
 and indulge of it; and I know not which of these 
 has exerted the greatest influence, in separating man 
 from his fellow man. "A man," said Epictetus, 
 " who is as sensible as he should be that we are all 
 descended from God, and that he is the Father of 
 
XX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 gods and men, would never think merely of himself." 
 This is one of many sentiments of this great heathen 
 moralist, which remind us of the remark of Montes- 
 quieu, that if Christianity had not been brought to the 
 world, the dissolution of the sect of the Stoics would 
 have been the greatest calamity which has ever been 
 sustained by our race. But Christianity gives a 
 prominence to this great sentiment, and it connects 
 and surrounds it with associations, which diffuse 
 over it a brighter light, and give to it an infinitely 
 higher value, than it could have derived from the 
 united wisdom of heathen antiquity. Christianity 
 not only reveals to us the infinite One, the great Su- 
 preme, as the Father alike of all men ; it not only 
 instructs all whom it addresses, in looking over, and 
 as far as we may, in looking into, and through the 
 mighty universe, to say and to feel, " our Father 
 made it all" ; it not only says to each individual, 
 and to all the race, " all ye are brethren," and re- 
 quires each one to cherish towards others a brother's 
 interest, and sympathy, and affection ; but it re- 
 quires us also, when we pray, to carry with us these 
 sympathies and affections to the throne of infinite 
 mercy and love ; and there to strengthen, and hal- 
 low the feeling of our connexion with our fellow men, 
 through our common relation to God, by addressing 
 him as, not my, but " Our Father who art in heav<- 
 en." Who, indeed, can feel that he is a child of 
 God, — that he has an immortal nature, — that in 
 his intellectual and moral powers, and in his capaci- 
 ty of eternal progress, he has also the capacity of an 
 eternal advancement in likeness to God, and there- 
 fore in all which can for ever exalt his nature, and 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXlli 
 
 secure and increase his happiness ; who can feel all 
 this, and at the same time the truth, which it is of 
 equal importance that we should feel, that the most 
 untaught, the poorest, and the most degraded of our 
 race possesses the principles of a common nature 
 with ourselves, and is equally with ourselves a child 
 of God, and, as our Father's child, is our brother; 
 who can thus comprehend his own soul, and thus 
 feel his relation to his fellow man, and not feel his 
 heart drawn out in sympathy with human weakness, 
 and ignorance, and want, and wretchedness, and 
 sin? — I cannot here pursue this great topic. But 
 I could not pass it unregarded in this connexion. I 
 commend it, however, to the very serious consid- 
 eration of the reader ; for I am persuaded that the 
 cause of the truest and highest charity, and of the 
 most enlarged humanity, is, and has been checked, 
 misdirected, and frustrated by nothing more, than 
 by the vain and worldly sentiments of worldly minds 
 on the one hand, and by the equally unworthy, and 
 still more depressing views of false religion on the 
 other, respecting human nature, and human relations. 
 Too often, indeed, is our nature brought before us in 
 any other than an attractive aspect. Yet if we look 
 upon it with the eye of a Christian, its original 
 greatness will he made manifest, even in the traces 
 of magnificence which will be visible in its very 
 ruins. Let us understand and feel for what God de- 
 signed it, at once in ourselves and in all who bear 
 the form of man, and I know of no other sentiment, I 
 know of no other means, by which the cause of human 
 improvement and happiness, in all its departments, 
 may be so essentially, and so extensively promoted. 
 
XXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Whether poverty or riches be the severest trial of 
 human virtue, I will not attempt to decide. If, how- 
 ever, we consider the frequency and pathos with 
 which our Lord and his apostles speak of the danger 
 of an inordinate love of riches, and the multitude of 
 precepts and warnings which we have in the New 
 Testament, to secure us against this perversion, and 
 debasement of our affections, it would seem as if 
 there could be no doubt upon the question, if its 
 determination shall rest only upon Christian rep- 
 resentations of the condition, and duties, and hopes 
 of men. At all events, if there is any truth in Chris- 
 tianity, great and solemn is the responsibility of 
 those, to whom God has given abundance : and of 
 those, especially, to whom he has committed great 
 possessions. Riches may indeed be a great good, 
 and well worth all the care and labor that are de- 
 manded to obtain them. But if, by their increase, 
 the soul shall be impoverished, and corrupted ; if, 
 furnishing nutriment in their possessor to a mis- 
 erable sordidness, or to the frivolity of vanity, or 
 to the arrogance of pride, or to the low and loath- 
 some appetites and passions of the sensualist, they 
 shall be diverted from the ends for which they were 
 given, and made the instruments of increased and 
 increasing sin ; then, better had it been for him who 
 has so abused them to have been born, and to have 
 lived and died, in the deepest poverty of the world. 
 Great poverty, it will readily be admitted by all who 
 know any thing of it, is not indeed a small trial. It is 
 a cause even of a great amount of vice and of crime 
 But sublimer examples of piety and virtue are not to 
 be found on earth, than in some of the humblest of 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 the abodes of want and suffering. The Baron De- 
 gerando has given his testimony of the exalted moral 
 excellence in the poor, of which he was him- 
 self a witness. And there is, I am persuaded, no ex- 
 aggeration in this testimony, for it describes no great- 
 er exellence than I have myself witnessed among 
 them. I could fill successive pages with greatly in- 
 teresting details, illustrative of the most single-mind- 
 ed, and beautiful self-devotion, patience, fortitude 
 and cheerfulness, arising out of an unreserved and un- 
 shaken love of God, and confidence in him ; of the 
 capacities of maternal love, and of the self-sacrifices 
 which may be made under the influence of a truly 
 filial piety. Yes, and I could cite examples of be- 
 nevolence among the poor, which I have no doubt 
 will at last receive from the lips of Jesus as high a 
 commendation, as was that which he gave to the 
 poor widow whom he saw casting her two mites into 
 the treasury. — But it is of less importance to decide 
 which is the severest trial of virtue, riches or pov- 
 erty, than it is to know, and to fulfill the duties of 
 the condition in which God has placed us. Let me 
 then respectfully say, Look, reader, to your own con- 
 dition. What is it? What duties does it impose up- 
 on you as a child of God, a disciple of Christ, and a 
 brother of man ? Remember the principle of the 
 judgment which awaits us, To whom much is given, of 
 him will much be required. And, forget not the words 
 which Jesus will address to those who have fed the 
 hungry, clothed the naked, ministered to the sick, 
 and visited the prisoner ; Inasmuch as ye have done it 
 to one of the least ofthese y ye have done it unto me. 
 c 
 
XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 One other view of this subject forces itself upon 
 my attention, and I cannot disregard it. But I will 
 speak very briefly of it. 
 
 Degerando has here brought the poor before us, as 
 they were seen by him in one of the most crowded 
 capitals in Europe, — in Paris. There, and in Lon- 
 don, and in other of the oldest and largest cities of 
 Christendom, and of t' e world, are extremes both of 
 affluence and of poverty, of which, comparatively, 
 little is known in the cities of our country. There, 
 too, both condition and character are modified by 
 institutions very different from our own ; and it 
 requires not much reflection to perceive, that noth- 
 ing would be more absurd, or more dangerous, than 
 would be the inference, because these cities have 
 stood and grown through so many centuries, and 
 through convulsions and revolutions which might 
 have been thought sufficient for their utter desola- 
 tion, that, therefore, the cities of our country, with 
 partial changes indeed, but with equal certainty, 
 may increase in numbers, and wealth, and the power 
 of controlling an ignorant, a vicious, and even a 
 desperate population. There is, however, I fear, a 
 practical delusion among us upon this subject, 
 which it is high time should be seriously considered, 
 and distinctly understood. Without much, and 
 perhaps without any very careful reasoning respect- 
 ing them, we have brought ourselves to believe that 
 there is in our institutions a conservative power, 
 quite sufficient for our security from the pauperism 
 and crime of the old world. Or, if a doubt sometimes 
 arises in the mind upon this question, the evils to be 
 apprehended are felt to be very distant ; and the 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXV11 
 
 fact that other cities have survived, and do survive, 
 and maintain their power and greatness under bur- 
 dens, apparently heavy enough to crush even the 
 strongest of them, emboldens the hope, that so also 
 it may be with our own cities. But the error is pal- 
 pable, and if disregarded, may be fatal. For how 
 is it that the oldest cities in Christendom, — to look 
 no further, — have been advancing in wealth and 
 power, under the increasing weight which has been 
 pressing upon them of masses of ignorance, and 
 want, and crime? How is it that order, and any 
 thing like the security of person and property, are 
 maintained in Paris and London, amidst an already 
 frightful, and a continually increasing population of 
 paupers and of criminals ; and where tens of thou- 
 sands are annually born, to be reared in the most 
 abject and degraded condition of humanity, — in 
 recklessness and crime ? How is it that in these 
 cities, where the capacities of tens of thousands are 
 employed only in preparation for, or in the perpe- 
 tration of crime ; where there is not only little sym- 
 pathy between the rich and the poor, but much 
 contempt of the poor among the rich, and great 
 exasperation, and equal hatred of the rich among 
 the poor ; how is it that there, where, if the poor, 
 the ignorant, the despised, the oppressed, the mere 
 creatures of their senses and their passions, driven 
 as they often are by their lawless passions to every 
 expedient for self subsistence, knew but the great- 
 ness of their combined power, and how to combine 
 their power, they might spread universal misrule and 
 ruin ; how is it that they do not combine for the equal- 
 ization of that property, by depredations upon which 
 
XXV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 they look for their principal means of living ? How 
 is it, in other words, that London and Paris are not 
 prostrated by the paupers and criminals which they 
 nourish in their bosom? In part, it is admitted, that 
 these cities derive their security from the very cir- 
 cumstance of the ignorance of their poor and crimi- 
 nals of their own power. In part, too, they are 
 indebted for it to the heterogeneous nature of the 
 materials of which these classes are composed; for 
 debasement and vice are happily composed of the 
 most discordant elements. But tremendous, still, 
 would be the exertions of this power, unwieldy as it 
 is, and unskillfully as it would be applied, were it 
 not crippled, and kept in subjection by a police, 
 which could no more be tolerated under our institu- 
 tions, than standing armies like those of England 
 or France. If, then, we are ever to have an ex- 
 tent and character of poverty and crime in any of 
 our cities, like those of London and Paris, one of 
 two things is absolutely certain. I mean, in the 
 first place, that our poor and our criminals are either 
 to be restrained, and kept in subjection by as exten- 
 sive, as complicated, and as powerful a police as is 
 maintained in the large and corrupt cities of the old 
 world, the very existence and maintenance of which 
 supposes a government which does not depend upon 
 the votes of the people, and therefore implies a pre- 
 vious change in our own constitutions of govern- 
 ment ; — or, secondly, our country is to be a great 
 theatre of anarchy, insecurity, and misery. I appeal, 
 indeed, to the judgment of any impartial mind, even 
 supposing that the aristocracy of England, lay and 
 spiritual, should willingly, and at once, relinquish 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXIX 
 
 their rank, and all its supposed rights, and if the 
 king, in the same spirit, should abdicate his throne, 
 whether, with such a population as is now in Eng- 
 land, it would be practicable to establish there a 
 government like our own ? Who doubts whether 
 such a government would be trampled on, and de- 
 stroyed, within a year after its first organization ; if 
 indeed it could even be organized ? With such a 
 population, then, how long might we hope to main- 
 tain our free institutions? And how are these in- 
 stitutions to be maintained, but through the educa- 
 tion and virtue of the people, and the speedy adop- 
 tion of the wisest measures that can be devised for 
 the remedy, and prevention, of pauperism and of 
 crime ? 
 
 I have said enough, and perhaps more than I 
 should have said, when I am detaining the reader 
 from the very interesting and instructive work which 
 is before him. I will only add, then, Go, little 
 book, and fulfill the purpose of thy benevolent au- 
 thor. Go to the habitations, and seek thy way into 
 the hearts, of all who will hold converse with thee. 
 Go, and tell thy tales of human want, and pain, and 
 sorrow ; of the difficulties, and struggles, and tri- 
 umphs of human virtue ; and of the privilege and 
 happiness of the visitor and friend of the poor. 
 Go, and teach the principles of Divine Love to those 
 who know them not, and strengthen and direct them 
 in every heart in which thou shalt find them. Go, 
 and help every one who will hear thee, to feel, that 
 • ' it is indeed more blessed to give, than to receive ; ' 
 that he most truly lives for himself, who most faithful- 
 ly, according to his means and opportunities, lives for 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 others ; that he is the richest, who, bringing all his 
 desires under the control of God's will, lives in the 
 fullest possession, and the freest exercise, of the 
 divine principle of Christian love ; and that, to 
 every immortal and accountable being, the supreme 
 good consists in that of which death cannot deprive 
 him ; which he may carry with him into the eternal 
 world, and enjoy there for ever. Go, and may God 
 prosper thee ! f 
 
 Joseph Tuckerman. 
 Boston, April, 1832. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 9 [ 
 
 The translator of the Visitor of the Poor has 
 omitted some parts of the original work, by the 
 advice of the writer of the Introduction. The chap- 
 ters omitted contain accounts of many of the estab- 
 lishments of Europe, for labor, for the sick, for the 
 old, and for the very young. As these establishments 
 could not be copied to advantage in this country, 
 it was thought that an account of them would be 
 a useless incumbrance to the general views, which 
 are of universal application, and which we wished 
 to put into a form that would ensure their wide 
 diffusion in our country. 
 
 Those persons who are interested in the forma- 
 tion or care of large public establishments, can recur 
 to the original work, and to many works which the 
 author himself points out, in his chapter on the 
 Studies of the Visitor of the Poor, an abstract of 
 which we will here give. 
 
 He speaks, in the first place, with great praise 
 of a collection of works by Duquesnoy , the title 
 of which, however, he does not give. This collec- 
 tion, he says, contains an account of all the public 
 establishments of England, Scotland, Ireland, Prus- 
 sia, Germany, and Denmark, besides the works of 
 Howard, Eden, Bentham, Macfarland, Burns, Good, 
 
XXX11 PREFACE. 
 
 Crumps, and the Reports of various English socie- 
 ties, committees of the House of Commons, &>c. 
 Next to this rich collection, he speaks of Man in 
 Society, published in Holland ; An Essay on the 
 Annals of Charity and Christian Beneficence, by 
 Richard ; the works of M. de Chamonsel ; some essays 
 by Lambin de Saint Felix; the works of M. de 
 Liancourt, M. Girard de Mesley, and Dupont de 
 Nemours. To this he adds London Piety, by Baron 
 de Voght ; and the works of Frederic Page, and 
 George Ensor, upon the poor and the poor laws. 
 
 To those who are interested in hospitals he re- 
 commends a Memoir on Hospitals, by Tenor ; 06- 
 servations upon Hospitals, by Cabannis ; and the 
 reports on hospitals by Camus and M. de Pastoret. 
 
 If the public should express a strong wish to see 
 Degerando's account of the institutions of his own 
 country, and his remarks on the spirit pervading 
 the French and English charities, perhaps they 
 may be given at some future time, as a second 
 part of the Visitor of the Poor ; together with his 
 remarks upon the characteristic differences of the 
 English and French associations for charity, which 
 form the concluding part of his chapter on the Spirit 
 of Association. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 
 Chapter. Page. 
 
 Introduction iii 
 
 Preface xxxi 
 
 I. Aim and Character of Charity ... 1 
 
 II. Characteristics of real Indigence . . 13 
 
 III. The Classification of the Poor ... 30 
 
 IV. Virtues of the Poor 47 
 
 V. Vices and Moral Amelioration of the Poor . 62 
 
 VI. Means of Obtaining the Confidence of the 
 
 Poor 86 
 
 VII. Education of the Children of the Poor . . 102 
 
 VIII. Begging 126 
 
 IX. Wise Distribution of Charity . . .138 
 
 X. Who should be called to the Office of Vis- 
 itor of the Poor . 160 
 XL Advantages to be reaped by the Visitor of 
 
 the Poor 173 
 
 XII. Spirit of Association .... 184 
 
 XIII. The Cooperation of Young People in the Es- 
 tablishments of Humanity . . . 189 
 
VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 AIM AND CHARACTER OF CHARITY. 
 
 In the inequalities of human condition, the 
 frivolous see only the work of a blind chance, 
 which scatters its favors, and dispenses its suffer- 
 ings, without any discrimination. There are men 
 also, even calling themselves philosophers, who, 
 from these inequalities, deduce the inference, that 
 there is no Providence. But there are more 
 heart-cheering views of our own condition, and 
 that of our fellow-beings ; and, if we are wise, 
 we may see, even in the greatest inequalities of 
 society, the precious means of disciplining and 
 of elevating the moral character. 
 
 In reference to the subject of the present work, 
 society may be divided into three classes. The 
 first class consists of those who have the super- 
 fluities of life. In the second class, resources are 
 nearly balanced by those necessities which stim- 
 1 
 
"4 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 ulate to labor. The third class includes those, 
 whose pressing wants cannot be entirely satisfied 
 by their own industry. This class is connected 
 with the first, by a principle of more elevated 
 morality than is involved in labor ; for is it not 
 apparent from this classification, that the two 
 moving principles of social action are designed 
 to be, labor and humanity ? 
 
 By the efforts which it calls forth, labor increas- 
 es the physical strength, the activity of the mind, 
 and the energy of the character. It is to labor 
 we owe the progress which has been made in the 
 arts and sciences, the extension of knowledge, 
 and the union of men in commercial relations. 
 Inspiring the sentiment of independence, it tends 
 to preserve personal dignity ; and, by rescuing 
 men from idleness, it saves them from vice. But 
 if this were the only principle at work in society, 
 social life would be but a contest of selfishness ; 
 a calculation of material interests. Besides, by 
 attaining its end, labor annihilates its own cause ; 
 and where the necessity of it is no longer felt, a 
 wretchedness follows, which has no resources of 
 its own. 
 
 But the holy principle of humanity, the sub- 
 lime sentiment, which brings together the affluent 
 
AIM AND CHARACTER OF CHARITY. 3 
 
 and the wretched, has also a part to act, and 
 objects to attain. With an instinctive confidence 
 in this, the miserable being who has no resources 
 of his own, throws himself upon his fellow crea- 
 ture, not to make an exchange on the principle of 
 the merchant, but to implore and receive a gra- 
 tuity ; and it is precisely because he receives, 
 because the benefit was purely voluntary, that the 
 sentiment of gratitude is awakened in his heart, — 
 a sentiment which is not only sweet and pure in 
 itself, but confers a sense of dignity on him who 
 feels it. In this intercourse of brotherhood, the 
 rich man also is elevated. The lethargic sleep, 
 which might have ended in the death of the heart, 
 is broken by compassion ; and he finds in his wealth 
 a treasure, which has a character of immortality 
 in it. The sublime pleasure of generosity stimu- 
 lates its own farther exercise, and at last shuns 
 even gratitude itself, that it may be more en- 
 tirely pure. Thus life is revealed in its true 
 colors ; the brilliant and deceitful veil, which pros- 
 perity threw over it, falls of itself; the rich 
 man learns by means of sympathy, that it is the 
 human lot to suffer, and infers truly, that, as there 
 must be a balance of human conditions, as to their 
 external evils, notwithstanding the apparent ine- 
 
4 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 quality, there are other evils than poverty, which 
 he may feel and the poor may relieve. 
 
 Thus in the physical world, the heavens and 
 the earth exchange the treasures of moisture. 
 This principle of mutual succour, by which the 
 rich and the poor meet each other and embrace, 
 as fellow citizens of the same distant country, is 
 also none other than that, which calls age to the 
 protection of childhood ; which binds the stronger 
 sex, who need the softening influence of tender- 
 ness, to the weaker, who need to be protected ; 
 which leads the valiant and the vigorous to de- 
 fend their firesides and their homes. It is the 
 principle of giving and receiving : the life and 
 happiness of the moral world. In no condition 
 can we be entirely deprived of the benefit of this 
 general principle of social action ; but it is in the 
 extreme cases of affluence and wretchedness, that 
 it is most strikingly manifested. 
 
 Had the affluent and indigent been allowed to 
 have existed without any mutual relations, there 
 would have been, indeed, a principle of eternal 
 separation implanted in the very constitution of 
 society. But Providence has bestowed the gentle 
 influence of compassion, to establish between these 
 classes of men a sublime union. It is true, this 
 
AIM AND CHARACTER OF CHARITY. 5 
 
 sentiment has a voluntary and free character. It 
 should be so, in order to be a moral sentiment, and 
 it is thus Providence is made manifest. Unless 
 refusal were possible, giving could not be a virtue ; 
 and this freedom is of course sometimes abused, 
 and the hard-hearted are found among the gene- 
 rous. Out of apparent chaos, is alike raised the 
 harmony of society, and of the soul. Misfortune 
 serves as a great aud difficult education, in which 
 compassionate virtue is the guiding light, explain- 
 ing all the mysteries. Riches also, are a great 
 responsibility ; but under the guidance of virtue, 
 they also become the sources of merit. Is this a 
 vain theory, a mystical speculation ? Ask the suf- 
 ferers in the late revolutions of Europe. Who, 
 amongst us, has not known suffering and poverty ? 
 And who has not found an asylum, perhaps 
 support, among strangers ? Have we not been 
 succoured by the poor ; have we not received hos- 
 pitality in cottages ; have we not seen the hearts 
 of those, whom our frivolous vanity had disdained, 
 as belonging to the inferior conditions, melt in 
 our behalf? Woe to him who did not compre- 
 hend these lessons which misfortune gave ! who 
 did not discover the sacred tie which generosity 
 forms with misfortune ! How often have we expe- 
 1* 
 
O VISITOR OF THE POOR, 
 
 rienced the celestial consolation of mere sympa- 
 thy ! how often too have we been called to weep 
 over the unfortunate great ; — to relieve, to save, 
 or to suffer with, some of the great family of man. 
 In this great and terrible school, have we not be- 
 come better ? If we have not, we have turned 
 aside, in the most guilty thoughtlessness, or re- 
 pelled by the most extraordinary hardness, the 
 mightiest of the lessons of Providence. 
 
 Rousseau has sketched the picture of nations, 
 deprived of our arts, and exempted from our luxu- 
 ries. But the relations of travellers do not bear 
 him out. Take, however, the most favorable of 
 these pictures, and grant it to be in a degree 
 correct. Social harmony, in such a state of society, 
 rests not upon the highest principle. If there is 
 less suffering, there is also less assistance ; condi- 
 tions are uniform, but there are no inspirations of 
 sympathy, like those called forth by the extreme 
 conditions of our society. Precisely because their 
 civilization is less developed, their sensibility is 
 less lively and refined. But this state, be its 
 desirableness what it may, is always and neces- 
 sarily a temporary one. Social economy must go 
 on ; and then uniformity will disappear, equality 
 will be broken up. But at the same time knowl- 
 
AIM AND CHARACTER OF CHARITY. 7 
 
 edge increases, and moral sentiment takes a higher 
 flight. It is true the abysses of misery are opened, 
 but Charity appears, to sound them. Let the 
 doubter, who is speculating coldly on these evils 
 of social life, allow his heart to be touched, let 
 him go and console and sustain the sufferers, let 
 his eyes meet the consoled and relieved, and 
 Providence will be justified. He will learn that 
 there is nothing wanting, but that man should 
 cooperate in the accomplishment of designs, which 
 the believing are allowed progressively to under- 
 stand, though the Infinite Mind alone could origi- 
 nate them. 
 
 There is a morality, however, in the first state 
 of society, though a constrained and limited mo- 
 rality. In the alliance of equals, the balance of 
 interests rests upon the guarantee of rights. But 
 the alliance between the strong and the weak 
 expresses a more perfect, because a more disinter- 
 ested morality. The first kind of morality is 
 dignified and proud, and satisfies, perhaps, the 
 present state of man ; the second kind is sublime 
 and tender, and reveals the future. To give is to 
 love ; to receive is to learn to love ; with the 
 delicate it is already to love, and to love much. 
 
8 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 The plans of Providence are thus manifest. 
 Over this second alliance of man with man, the 
 noblest of the virtues is called to preside, and 
 poverty is put under the guardianship and patron- 
 age of riches. Mankind becomes a great family, 
 where the weak belong to the strong, as children 
 to parents, with this difference only, that it is by 
 a free and voluntary adoption, in the calmness of 
 the mind. 
 
 Poverty is to riches, what childhood is to ma- 
 ture life. Let the rich man know this dignity 
 with which he is invested, and regard it rightly. 
 It is not a vague indefinite patronage, that he is 
 called upon to exercise. Children are not given 
 confusedly, and without distinction, to men. Ev- 
 ery child has its own father. And the rich must 
 exercise a personal, immediate, individual patron- 
 age. It is not their munificence only, which is 
 demanded, but a personal care, which, though free 
 and voluntary, is real and active. Do we not 
 realize what is meant ? Let us go to yonder public 
 square, and look upon the scaffold erected there, 
 and the wretch who mounts it. — That man is our 
 brother, and might have been good. He was 
 poor. Perhaps our indolent alms chanced to fall 
 upon him, but no one watched over his mind and 
 
AIM AND CHARACTER OF CHARITY. U 
 
 morals, or excited him to the labor whose pre- 
 servative principle he was not wise enough to 
 understand. He conceived of an easier means to 
 enrich himself than labor affords. The very- 
 money we threw at him, corrupted him. Perhaps 
 he bought a dagger with it. He was already- 
 vicious, and with one step he became criminal. 
 He attacked the life of him whom he robbed. He 
 might have struck at his benefactor, for he did 
 not know him. Ah ! had he not an indigence of 
 soul and reason, more fatal than hunger ? 
 
 It is not alms alone, which the miserable solicit, 
 but guidance, consolation, support. The blind 
 and paralytic are in vain loaded with money. 
 They must have a more immediate human aid. 
 And most of the indigent are blind, — blind and 
 paralytic in a more important than the physical 
 sense. That charity is the least worthy of the 
 name, which gives only gold. 
 
 Charity, then, and not aim s- giving , is the aim 
 of the designs of Providence, the vocation of the 
 rich man, and the great element necessary to the 
 harmony of the moral world. Alms-giving is only 
 one of the instruments of charity ; it is not the 
 only one, or the most important ; it even contra- 
 dicts, and sometimes destroys the effects of chari- 
 ty itself. 
 
10 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 But charity is entirely an individual thing. A 
 largess given in a general way, thrown out to 
 escape importunity, subscribed and published, to 
 nourish pride by the ostentation of false virtue, 
 has nothing to do with charity, with the tie that 
 unites brother to brother. When alms-giving is 
 but a shield from personal pain, and selfish terror, 
 at the sight of misfortune, I had almost said it is 
 an insult to the miserable. Charity alone does 
 good. Her solicitude is enlightened and pro- 
 spective, as well as tender and affectionate. She 
 examines before she acts ; she takes a wide sur- 
 vey, and extends her regards over the future. 
 She goes back to causes ; she embraces all cir- 
 cumstances ; she adds to her gifts, care, conso- 
 lation, counsel, and even parental reprimand. 
 This is the wonderful inspiration, which reveals 
 and furnishes to men, who are not in the most 
 prosperous conditions, the means of associating 
 themselves in works of benevolence; of accept- 
 ing the noblest, the most difficult, the vgpst use- 
 ful offices towards their unfortunate fellow-men ; 
 for it teaches not only to do good, but also, what 
 is not less important, the manner of doing good. 
 
 Civil laws, which are only a positive expression 
 of the moral laws, in their necessary and rigorous 
 
AIM AND CHARACTER OF CHARITY. 11 
 
 applications, have required, that guardianship 
 should be appointed and secured to minority. 
 Now indigence is a minority. In going back to 
 the moral law itself, and contemplating- it in its 
 principle, and embracing it in all its extent, we 
 ask, Who shall appoint the guardian of this minor- 
 ity ? and the answer is — Charity. 
 
 The essence of a good administration of pub- 
 lic charity, then, is the art of creating a voluntary, 
 immediate, and individual guardianship of the 
 prosperous over the unfortunate ; the exercise of 
 this guardianship being the most efficacious spring 
 in the application of private charity. This prin- 
 ciple is eminently fruitful. Its applications, in 
 pointing out the means of recognising and dis- 
 cerning true indigence, of relieving it, and of 
 rendering alms useful to the giver, as well as re- 
 ceiver, will develope of themselves. It is the de- 
 sign of the ensuing work, to sum up faithfully the 
 instructions which experience has furnished, as to 
 the manner in which this guardianship may be 
 instituted. They are the observations and testi- 
 mony of persons, who have devoted their lives to 
 the exercise of charity. The subject will be 
 interesting to all, who know that power comes 
 from God to man, on the condition of his being 
 
12 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 a faithful minister of Providence on earth ; and 
 that, consequently, every thing is bound together 
 by mutual ties and dependencies. Let us pity 
 those, who only see the administration of charity 
 in dollars and cents. Its spirit inhabits a higher 
 sphere. Its strength and aim, those only can 
 understand, and experience, and turn into action, 
 whose profound meditations upon the destinies of 
 humanity have been lighted at the lamp of mo- 
 rality and religion. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 
 
 It is important to know the characteristics of 
 real indigence ; for errors on this point are fre- 
 quent, and very injurious, being the cause of 
 feelings of hesitation in some who are called 
 upon for assistance, and furnishing pretexts for 
 indifference to others. The general excuse of 
 those who do not wish to give, is, that they fear 
 they shall give injudiciously, — an excuse often but 
 too well founded. And thus the unfortunate, 
 whose complaints are drawn from them by the 
 very excess of suffering, and who already feel the 
 additional misery of exposing themselves to refu- 
 sals, are liable to be met with vague suspicions 
 and hesitation, and find they have still greater 
 enemies than poverty to encounter, — injustice 
 and contempt. But it is indiscriminate alms- 
 giving, which causes this difficulty, by creating a 
 new and factitious indigence. The individuals 
 who are its objects, becoming idle, and losing the 
 opportunities of employment, feel a real poverty, 
 2 
 
14 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 when the assistance ceases. They have learned 
 to count upon external aid, and not upon their 
 own resources. Thus a premium is offered to 
 idleness, and society loses the labor of which it 
 is in need. But the receivers of these fatal gifts 
 are still more deeply injured than society itself. 
 Labor would have preserved their health, taught 
 them foresight, led them to salutary reflections, 
 and inspired self-respect, by securing the esteem 
 of others. It is mistaken kindness which turns 
 them away from fulfilling their vocation on earth, 
 by a useful and honorable life. Degraded by 
 idleness, debased by falsehood, and guilty of 
 real robbery (for they use up the aid that should be 
 given to real sufferers), they will perhaps soon 
 consume what they get so easily, in licentiousness. 
 Thus we have in reality taken from them the 
 source of future subsistence, and deprived them 
 of their only wealth ; for we have taken from them 
 their morals. 
 
 " But how shall I discriminate ? " says the 
 alms-giver. " Does not pretended indigence pre- 
 sent itself 'under the same aspect as real? Is 
 not the former even more pressing in its de- 
 mands ? " 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 15 
 
 Undoubtedly ; and importunity itself is some- 
 times a sign, which should put you on your guard. 
 But why do you not go near to the person that 
 implores you ; and why do you not seek out those 
 who do not implore you ? It is in their dwelling- 
 places that you must investigate which is the 
 reality, and which is the phantom ; and it is an 
 investigation that requires attentive study. It is 
 not enough that you are open-handed ; you must 
 open your eyes too. It is your own fault if you 
 are deceived. 
 
 But to come to details. In the first place, con- 
 sider the age and sex ; examine the state of 
 health and strength. 
 
 "It is a child, an old man; they will not de- 
 ceive me," 
 
 But cannot their own family maintain them ? 
 or may not the gray hairs of the one, and the 
 innocence of the other, be used as instruments by 
 shameless speculators ? Beware how you become 
 an accomplice in a conspiracy against the most 
 holy ties of nature ! 
 
 " It is a mother, surrounded by young children." 
 
 But do they belong to her ? Has she not bor- 
 rowed, or perhaps stolen them from their own 
 mother ? 
 
16 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 " It is an invalid." 
 
 But is the infirmity real ? You exclaim, " What 
 shall we believe then ? " and perhaps you deceive 
 yourself into the idea that you are not responsible 
 for your ignorance. 
 
 On the other hand ; here is a house near your 
 own. Do you know its inhabitants ? It looks 
 poor. Let us enter it. We will ascend the 
 stairs to the garret. What a spectacle ! — Your 
 presence excites astonishment, perhaps a blush. 
 They seemed to be desirous of concealing what 
 you behold. There is a widow extended on the 
 bed of death, and little children about to become 
 orphans. There is a little straw. Every thing 
 else, — furniture, linen, clothing, have been sold ; 
 and where is food, where medicine, where conso- 
 lation ? Whom can you accuse for your igno- 
 rance of this poor neighbour ? 
 
 To distinguish the characteristics of real pover- 
 ty, w r e must go back to its causes. 
 
 There are three causes of real indigence. Ina- 
 bility to labor, insufficient produce of labor, and 
 absolute want of employment. 
 
 1. Inability to labor is either temporary or last- 
 ing. It is temporary with the sick and the wound- 
 ed ; lasting with the old and incurable. It is also 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 17 
 
 either absolute or partial. It is absolute with the 
 bed-ridden, the paralytic, and the maimed ; and 
 partial with all others, even the blind. 
 
 To judge concerning the ability to labor, you 
 must see for yourself. You must go to the bed- 
 side of the sufferers, and not once only, but on 
 different days, and at different hours. Even this 
 is not enough. You must question the neighbours, 
 you must bring a physician. The misery which 
 is without resources, is precisely, for that very 
 reason, the misery which cannot have produced 
 itself. 
 
 Perhaps you have sent the remedy necessary 
 for the sick, and go now to administer it with your 
 own hands. But when you enter, you seek it in 
 vain. It has disappeared, and you find in its 
 stead preparations for a repast. This was well 
 acted ! what will be the confusion of the pretend- 
 ed sufferers ! and what your indignation ! 
 
 Indignation ! the fault was your own. Had you 
 known how to observe, there were a thousand 
 looks and gestures, any one of which would have 
 betrayed their secret. It was your duty to 
 learn how long these people had been in the 
 house, where they lived before, why they quitted 
 the former house, what reputation they left there, 
 2* 
 
18 VISTTOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 when and how the patient had been attacked by 
 disease ; a thousand things should have been 
 known, nearly their whole lives. As these inqui- 
 ries should not have been made from a spirit of 
 inquisitorial curiosity, but from benevolent solici- 
 tude ; so the details should not be obtained by 
 humiliating questioning, but in confidence. It is 
 the tenderness of gratitude which draws these 
 bitter memorials of misfortune from the modest 
 poor. 
 
 2. The produce of labor is insufficient, in the 
 first place, with the aged and infirm, who can 
 follow some occupation, but whose full strength 
 has been impaired ; especially in women who have 
 lived isolated, and who, never having exercised 
 any variety of talents, are reduced to the most 
 simple mechanical labor. Their feebleness, their 
 frequent infirmities, and the organization of socie- 
 ty, which leaves them only a subaltern and unpro- 
 ductive employment, even in their own line, 
 exposes them to the danger of scarcely procuring 
 the supplies for their necessary wants. 
 
 The same difficulty occurs when there are 
 young children in a family. In the laboring class- 
 es of society, the price of daily labor is naturally 
 regulated by the sum necessary for the support of 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 19 
 
 the generality, and it is found insufficient for cases 
 of exception. The most industrious and frugal 
 workman finds himself embarrassed as soon as he 
 begins to have a family to clothe and feed. 
 Besides, the mother has so much less time to 
 devote herself to productive occupations. This 
 is only partial indigence, it is true, but it is both 
 respectable and interesting. If in this case, the 
 mother is a widow, or has been abandoned by her 
 husband, and is the only support of her family, 
 we should especially feel, that something is due to 
 her on account of her sex, which has, besides, in 
 itself, a particular claim to protection. The last 
 case also brings up another consideration, which 
 will excite our solicitude. Misery may lead a 
 woman to a still greater misfortune than poverty. 
 It may expose her to seduction ; and what conse- 
 quences may ensue from a single moment of aban- 
 donment, caused by the pressure of necessity ! 
 Oh ye mothers ! who, in the midst of abun- 
 dance, think yourselves benevolent and pious, 
 because you give alms at the door of a church, 
 why did you not assist in time that young orphan 
 girl, who was still innocent ? You might, per- 
 haps, have saved your own son from corrup- 
 tion, by arresting, on the brink of the abyss, her 
 who will one day lead him into vice. 
 
20 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 And fly to that other wretched woman, whose 
 virtue is struggling with famine. But here you 
 must redouble your care, lest she share your 
 bounty with the vile seducer himself. 
 
 Ascertain if this mother, surrounded by children, 
 is worthy of the name ; lest by assisting her, you 
 give a bad example to those who are yet innocent. 
 Learn how she has lived, in order better to assure 
 yourself how she lives now. 
 
 Here is a family consisting of seven or eight 
 children, who live by manual labor. But what is 
 their trade ? there are more or less productive 
 ones. How do the husband and wife live togeth- 
 er ? What is the age of the children ? Is there 
 no one of them who can begin to assist their 
 parents ? Have the parents turned the assistance 
 they have already received, to the advantage of 
 the family ? Study the internal habits of the 
 family. If the parents do not tell you the truth, 
 the children will betray it unconsciously. From 
 their condition and language, you can judge what 
 are the lessons and examples they are accustomed 
 to receive. 
 
 3. A scarcity of work is sometimes brought about, 
 by the revolution of politics, or the sudden inven- 
 tion of machinery. But each particular case of 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 21 
 
 poverty, which is referred to this cause, must be 
 investigated carefully. A workman may, from 
 caprice, change his labor for a kind to which he 
 is not so competent. You must go to his em- 
 ployer, and ascertain the fact. And you must not 
 implicitly confide in his employer's testimony, for 
 he may have faults, or be without judgment. 
 You must go to his previous employers also, and 
 trace out his history. Other questions also arise ; 
 is the trade, or kind of labor, a flourishing or 
 a languishing one ? Is it overflowing with the num- 
 bers who follow it ? Is it suited to his talents ? 
 All these things are to be considered, before you 
 can either assist or reprove the inactive laborer. 
 Having ascertained all these circumstances, you 
 will know how to act. 
 
 But supposing you ascertain the fact that the 
 cause of his indigence lies in the sufferer's own 
 fault, still this indigence may be real now. Care 
 must then be taken not to ward off the salutary 
 consequences which teach him an important lesson ; 
 and yet he must not be left in hopeless suffering. 
 No written rules can be given for such delicate 
 cases, but we will not dismiss this difficult subject 
 without giving some guiding remarks. Let us, 
 then, remember that charity provides for the 
 
22 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 future : she not only relieves the present evil, 
 but endeavours to prevent the recurrence of it, 
 and in order to do this, she inquires into the 
 causes of this indigence, real in its results, but 
 to be remedied only by destroying its causes 
 In these causes, are included improvidence, 
 idleness, and debauchery. 
 
 Of these three, improvidence is the most ex- 
 cusable ; for it is sometimes found connected with 
 honesty, even with industry and activity. Some- 
 times it is the consequence of a too confident and 
 ill-regulated activity. But this last most excusable 
 improvidence has its peculiar signs. You must 
 examine the dwelling, see how the furniture is 
 arranged, look at the linen, and, obtaining their 
 confidence, learn how they combine their scanty 
 means, and see if they know how to chocse, to 
 spare, to save. They will tell you all their im- 
 prudences, under the reviving hope of being as- 
 sisted ; and thus you will have opportunity to 
 offer them the counsels which will give permanent 
 value to what you bestow upon them. 
 
 Improvidence is also the consequence of idle- 
 ness. But here the idleness is the first cause, a 
 disease not of the mind, but the soul. This is 
 not a want of reflection, but a defect of will. It 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 23 
 
 is a deep evil, perhaps the hardest of all to 
 cure. You may make a criminal or a vicious 
 person repent ; but how can you raise the stupefied 
 from their torpor ? It is like attempting to resus* 
 citate the dead. However, there are different kinds 
 of idleness. Has the indolence in this particular 
 case a physical character ? — or is it the effect of 
 discouragement ? or of a sort of idiocy ? or the 
 consequence of lax morals ? — You must watch 
 the manner, and step, and dress. — Physical indo- 
 lence will be quiet and hold out its hand, almost 
 unconscious of its own character. Discouragement 
 will manifest itself in a sombre and melancholy 
 sadness ; it will be silent and reserved. Idiocy 
 will be inefficient in the midst of the greatest want, 
 and indifferent when relieved from suffering. 
 Moral idleness will betray itself in debasing ser- 
 vility. — You must not trust in discriminating 
 these kinds of indolence, to present observations ; 
 but go back to the childhood and youth of the 
 individual, and endeavour to ascertain his moral 
 history. 
 
 Another evil is loose living. Do not think that 
 in inviting you to penetrate this dreadful mystery, 
 I wish to turn aside your succouring bounty. Oh 
 no ! Divine Providence does not despair of vice, 
 
24 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 and we should not despair of it. We must look 
 on vice as another misfortune, but as having also 
 its remedies, and needing a still more earnest solici- 
 tude on our part. What happiness and glory would 
 it be to us to relieve and restore to virtue the victim 
 of vice ! But of all kinds of evil this is the most 
 difficult to investigate. This vice is almost always 
 concealed. It is often enveloped in a veil of 
 hypocrisy ! We must observe carefully if there 
 is no affectation in what is said about honesty and 
 religious observances. We must watch for those 
 inadvertences which the most cunning cannot 
 avoid. We must mark whether our sudden 
 appearance to them agitates them, and what im- 
 pression our words make ; we must surprise them 
 in those actions which they thought would be 
 concealed from us ; we must find out their con- 
 nexions in life, and the kind of characters they 
 have most frequent intercourse with. 
 
 And suppose we find that there is vice. Let us 
 go still farther, and learn whether it is the cause or 
 the effect of the poverty which accompanies it ; 
 for poverty is often a fatal counsellor, confounding 
 the ideas, throwing a cloud over the reason, and 
 putting despair into the heart. Iron must be 
 tempered, to be hardened ; but sometimes it splits 
 and breaks in the process. 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 25 
 
 Such are some of the distinctions and character- 
 istics which belong to the poor. Hardly any of 
 them are absolute or universal. There is only 
 one test for discovering the truth. See if the 
 poor who are capable of any portion of labor, 
 accept it with pleasure and execute it with zeal, 
 when it is presented to them. Do they them- 
 selves second and aid your exertions to the utmost 
 of their moral and physical resources ? Do they 
 limit themselves to accepting only what is neces- 
 sary to make up the deficiency of their wants ? 
 If so, you have reason to presume, that the indi- 
 gence is real. If, on the contrary, they neglect 
 the labor that is presented to them ; if they relax 
 when they are supported, then there is reason to 
 doubt. 
 
 There is a second indication to which we can 
 recur with advantage. Does the poor man insist 
 upon obtaining assistance in money, or does he 
 willingly accept it in useful articles ? In the last 
 case, what kind of articles does he accept most 
 willingly ? You will sometimes see those, who, if 
 you should believe all they say, were ready to die 
 of hunger, receive with a bad grace, and even 
 disdain, a cheap soup ; and sometimes go and 
 sell it. 
 
 3 
 
26 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 But there are no indications of this kind, which 
 can supersede the necessity of investigation. To 
 go, to see, to converse ; above all, to continue 
 these observations with method, and a kind of 
 persevering connexion, — this is the first and es- 
 sential condition. 
 
 In the case of an indigent family, we should 
 apply to the proprietor or the principal inhabitant 
 of the house, to find out if the rent is regularly 
 paid, and if the family is peaceable and regular 
 in its habits. But it is essential to know, also, how 
 long they have lived in the house ; the poor are 
 apt to change their abode very often. If the 
 family has been in a house but a short time, the 
 word of the proprietor is no guarantee ; it will be 
 necessary then, to go still farther back, and in- 
 quire at the former place of residence. The 
 neighbours should be consulted also. But their 
 testimony should be received cautiously. Too 
 often, jealousy and animosity lead malicious neigh- 
 bours to accuse the unfortunate lightly ; often, on 
 the other hand, pity and natural complaisance 
 dispose them to disguise vices and exaggerate 
 wants. How can any one be willing to act as 
 informer against an unfortunate family ; or to 
 discourage those who appear ready to relieve them ? 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL INDIGENCE. 27 
 
 A practised observer may read much in the 
 features and countenance of the person he de- 
 sires to know. Generally, this expression is 
 strongly marked and sincere in the lower classes 
 of society, where the passions are stronger, and 
 there is less attention to maimer. But here we 
 must be very cautious : the common propensity 
 to judge characters by the contenance, exposes 
 to much and serious injustice. Sometimes pro- 
 longed misfortune, and physical suffering, produce 
 expressions of countenance which may be misin- 
 terpreted ; while, on the other hand, the habit of 
 hypocrisy sometimes gives an air of sweetness and 
 resignation, which deceives us. 
 
 A blush at receiving a favor is a surer indica- 
 tion than tears ; tears are more easy to feign. 
 The signs of delicacy and of a remaining sense 
 of character are also a good augury. But assur- 
 ance is a bad symptom ; he who demands and 
 receives, without a shade of embarrassment, is at 
 least familiarized to humiliation ; and we have 
 reason to fear that his moral sentiments are en- 
 feebled, and his soul has lost the energy necessary 
 for struggling against adversity, and for opposing 
 to it the resources derived from within. 
 
28 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Perhaps these precautions may seem harsh to 
 the delicate and feeling mind : and it will be said, 
 " What ! shall we aggravate, by our suspicions, 
 that misfortune, already so worthy of pity, merely 
 because it is obliged to abase itself so far as to 
 solicit assistance ? Shall we dare to doubt the 
 tears we see flowing ; to resist the suppliant voice 
 that implores us?" — Well then, — try a very 
 simple experiment. Ask the suppliant for his 
 precise address, and tell him you will go and see 
 him. Perhaps he will disappear without answer- 
 ing you. Perhaps he gives you an address, but 
 you go and inquire, and he is unknown at the 
 place indicated. This is what happens every 
 day. 
 
 N. B. If any one wishes to see facts which will prove 
 how the pretended indigent may be multiplied, by a blind 
 facility of giving; let him compare the number of families 
 who are admitted now to the public charity in Paris with 
 the number who were admitted before the royal ordi- 
 nance of the 2nd of July, 1816 ; which instituted the new 
 system (secours a domicile), including a visitation of the 
 poor, by ladies and commissaries. In the first instance, 
 there were 52,524 families including 102,806 individuals. 
 But the new system of charity, requiring that the cause of 
 the poverty should be sought out and determined and 
 expressed in the bulletin of admission, has reduced the 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF REAL, INDIGENCE. 29 
 
 number to 27,762 families, including 54,371 individuals, — 
 although the population of the city has increased one 
 quarter during the time between the years 1816 and 
 1822. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 
 
 A 'good system in the dispensation of charity 
 supposes three conditions. First, that the as- 
 sistance be proportioned, in its quantity, to the 
 extent of the wants ; secondly, that it be appro- 
 priate in its kind, to the nature of these wants ; 
 thirdly, that, in its continuation, it be measured 
 by the duration of these same wants, and gradu- 
 ated upon their fluctuation. 
 
 These three conditions suppose in their turn, 
 first, that the situation of the poor has been exactly 
 proved ; secondly, that the extent of the poverty 
 is known ; and, thirdly, that the nature of the 
 wants and their fluctuations have been ascertained. 
 
 The great secret of charity is the art of propor- 
 tioning it to the necessities of poverty. After 
 having ascertained the reality of the indigence, it 
 is necessary to determine with care its measure and 
 its limits. Without this, we give at hazard, and 
 perhaps assist those, who are not in need, while 
 we withhold aid from the suffering. The same 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 31 
 
 care and the same research will be necessary in 
 this new examination ; and this is the second 
 function of the visitor of the poor. 
 
 1. In the first place, pretended poverty is much 
 more rare, than people are led to think ; and it is 
 decreasing every day. A natural taste for activity, 
 a certain frankness in our manners, the pride and 
 self-love which belong to all classes of people, 
 serve as preservatives against this shameful de- 
 ception. But nothing is so common as to exagge- 
 rate poverty. And we must not be astonished at 
 this ; for he, who suffers, easily exggerates his 
 own misery to himself, and he exaggerates it to 
 others to excite pity. When the pressure of 
 poverty has once triumphed over the natural re- 
 pugnance men feel, to the asking and receiving of 
 favors, they do not blush to ask for more than is 
 exactly necessary. 
 
 Yet, to give to the poor more than they really 
 need, is nearly the same thing as to give to those 
 who are not in need ; the injury is of the same 
 kind, although in a less degree. 
 
 This will perhaps appear harsh, and yet it is a 
 remark drawn from the deepest interest in mis- 
 fortune. Doubtless it is painful to seek out the 
 limits of suffering, and scrupulously to measure 
 
6% VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 out our bounty. But does not the physician deny 
 the desires of his patient ? Does he not impose 
 privations upon him? To do good for one's own 
 gratification, is to be only half benevolent. Noth- 
 ing is more just, than, that we should be happy 
 in giving ; but this pleasure is not the end for 
 which we give, and should not serve as a rule and 
 measure to our gifts. It is only one of the re- 
 wards of giving. 
 
 Let the visitor of the poor then endeavour to 
 form a precise and clear idea of the situation of 
 the poor. To this end, let him take an example 
 of a supposed case of absolute indigence, making 
 a distinction between the situation of the complete- 
 ly isolated individual, and that of a family more or 
 less numerous. 
 
 A state of absolute indigence, in an individual, 
 supposes him deprived, by infirmity, of the means 
 of performing any labor, having no resources what- 
 ever, and totally abandoned by every one. Let 
 us estimate in money what is necessary to furnish 
 to this unfortunate person his daily nourishment, 
 the rent of his dwelling-place, whatever it may be ; 
 the preservation and renewal of his clothes, his 
 bed, a little fuel in winter, and necessary medi- 
 cines. This sum will not be precisely the same 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 33 
 
 for a man, a woman, and a very young orphan. 
 This point being established, it remains for us to 
 deduct the resources of various kinds, which may 
 remain to this unfortunate individual. An old 
 man, although decrepit, may still execute some 
 work, or be employed in taking care of something. 
 A blind man has strength, which he may use in 
 various ways. Those infirmities, which leave the 
 use of some of the limbs, still admit of some occu- 
 pations. He may have a relation, a friend, or a 
 protector, who can render him some assistance. 
 These deductions being made, we shall have near- 
 ly an exact knowledge of his wants. Now we 
 must be sure, that the little work he can do, is 
 offered him ; for in this case alone must the wages 
 of such labor be deducted from the supposed sum. 
 Otherwise, the want of labor must be added, 
 though as a transient element, to the sad list that 
 makes up the sum total of his necessities. 
 
 After having determined the condition of a sin- 
 gle individual, we shall proceed in the same man- 
 ner in regard to a family, applying a similar meas- 
 urement to each of the members that compose it. 
 Only we should not forget, that a whole family 
 spends less, when united, than if each member was 
 supported separately. The rent and fuel are 
 
34 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 nearly the same for several, as for two, or even 
 for one. 
 
 We are accustomed to regard children under 
 twelve years of age, as entirely a burden to their 
 parents. Yet, in fact, those under twelve years 
 of age can render many small services, and often 
 begin to earn a few cents. When over twelve 
 years of age, they should be apprenticed to some 
 regular business. The instruction by which chil- 
 dren learn to read and write, to understand religion 
 and morality, and to learn how to labor, should be 
 placed in the rank of the most essential wants of 
 a family. Any lucrative occupation, which may 
 be an obstacle to this, would not be a gain, but a 
 loss. 
 
 2. The extent of the poverty being determined, 
 shall we give in money the sum which corresponds 
 to it ? God forbid ! Who will answer for it, that 
 the poor would not employ it in some other way, 
 than that for which it was destined, or even make 
 it the instrument of evil ? Who will answer for it, 
 that they would not consume in one day what was 
 destined for a whole week ? that even in employ- 
 ing this money for real necessities, they would not 
 make the worst choice, and the most injudicious 
 purchases ? Perhaps, if they had been capable of 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 35 
 
 taking all necessary precautions, they would not 
 now be poor. It is very easy to derange the econ- 
 omy of a life, limited to what is barely necessary. 
 There are those, who, to make one good dinner, 
 will sometimes deprive themselves of the means of 
 clothing and fuel for the winter. Do we not our- 
 selves often sacrifice the future for the enjoyment 
 of the present moment? And can the poor be 
 expected to be wiser than ourselves, — they, who 
 think so little of the future ? Besides, to give arti- 
 cles of daily use, is a perceptible testimony of our 
 active and tender solicitude. The poor are then 
 grateful for our gifts, and will be touched by our 
 personal care. They are more grateful for the latter 
 than for our gifts, for they see in it a sort of pa- 
 ternal affection. If the supposed poor man be 
 really poor, the sight of our money would make 
 him blush. But he will like to say, " This is the 
 bed I received from his bounty ; " and he will 
 recollect it every night, when he prays to Him 
 who clothes the lily of the field. Moreover, to 
 provide for all this, we must become the confidants 
 of the poor family ; for confidence between us is 
 as good for him as for ourselves. Confiding in us, 
 he will naturally be led to tell us every thing, and 
 to show us every thing. He will thus enable us 
 
36 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 to avoid questions, which might have an air of 
 suspicion, and would be equally painful to both. 
 We shall be enabled to see if he has known how 
 to preserve the little he possessed ; . if he has used 
 every thing properly. This is not a suspicious 
 inquisition ; it is the privilege of sincere friendship. 
 In short, we shall know how to discern and recog- 
 nise the kind, the quality, the value, and the 
 duration of the articles, which the poor man con- 
 sumes, and which are the best for his use. We 
 shall then make up his little budget upon a posi- 
 tive basis, and have a certain degree of judgment 
 about his real necessities, and thus learn better 
 how to observe other poor people, to understand 
 what they need, and guard ourselves from those 
 chance estimations, which would expose us to give * 
 too much, or to refuse what is indispensable. 
 Thus a second calculation will be made, designating 
 each necessary article, the quantity and the kind ; 
 and giving a general idea of the rent, the bed, the 
 linen, the dress, shoes and stockings, &c. In 
 winter we must add fuel. This is necessary for 
 all. Then if he is sick, he will require medicines, 
 dressings for wounds, and suitable food. If in 
 health he will need nourishment, regulated accord- 
 ing to his age, sex, modes of life and labor. 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 37 
 
 • But, as we have said before, perhaps what the 
 poor man wants is labor, or a sufficient quantity of 
 labor. This is a new subject of observation. 
 What profession has he followed ? Why does it 
 not afford him more resources ? Would it not be 
 possible to restore them to him? What would 
 be the means of restoring them ? If this is not 
 practible, what other occupation is there, of 
 which he would be found capable? And how 
 can it be procured for him ? In either case, what 
 profits may be expected from it ? Can he work 
 away from home, or only at his own lodgings ? 
 
 3. Thus our two first tables are drawn up ; 
 and the real state of the poor is well known. 
 But it is only for the moment. Now, every thing 
 changes. The sick man is reestablished in health, 
 and the healthy man falls sick. The portion of 
 labor, from which the poor man hitherto drew a 
 little profit, fails him. A child comes into exis- 
 tence and has wants. Then, again, the child 
 grows up, and is able to assist his parents. The 
 family increases still further, or it loses one of 
 its members. A rigorous season comes on, and 
 disconcerts all calculations. Now, if we continue 
 blindly the same mode and degree of assistance, 
 what will happen? When external aid ceases 
 4 
 
38 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 to be necessary, and yet is continued, it indisposes 
 its objects to avail themselves of their own re- 
 sources. It excites them to abuse our facility of 
 kindness, and shuts up the path, through which 
 they should have been led to activity and inde- 
 pendence. When, on the other hand, the aid is 
 insufficient, and no longer bears any proportion to 
 actual wants, we are, in truth, though uncon- 
 sciously, cruel, and even deceive the confidence 
 which we had authorized them to feel in us. In 
 either case, we fail of the true end. 
 
 To continue thus to note the history of the 
 little revolutions in the existence of the poor, 
 constancy and perseverance are doubtless neces- 
 sary. And perhaps this is what is most difficult 
 in the duties imposed upon the visitor of the poor, 
 and what is most rarely accomplished. Yet it 
 is the necessary condition of making charity use- 
 ful. The frequent family changes among the 
 poor have serious inconveniences. Hardly do 
 you make acquaintance with a family before it 
 escapes you. You had wished in your foresight 
 to make preparations for the future, but you are 
 not able to see the effect of what you do. This 
 family may meet with another benefactor; but 
 he may not be able to enter into your plans. 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 39 
 
 Has the visitor of the poor at last terminated 
 his long and painful examination ? But he has 
 not exhausted the sources of inquiry. He has 
 yet observed only the outside. It remains for him 
 to penetrate the most intimate secrets. What 
 then must he do ? Listen. Seated at the bed- 
 side of a sick man, I sought to give him support 
 and encouragement in his sufferings. A deep 
 sigh, which escaped him, gave me new doubts and 
 anxieties. I questioned, and urged him. He 
 was silent. I spoke to him in the language of 
 affection. He was melted. I pressed his hand, 
 and his tears flowed. Ah ! his health was indeed 
 impaired ; but it was grief, which had destroyed 
 it. For a long time he had shut up in silence the 
 pains, which oppressed his heart. A failure had 
 carried away the fruits of his economy. A friend 
 had deceived his confidence. He found himself en- 
 cumbered with the debts of others. He had sold 
 every thing to save his honor, and fulfil his engage- 
 ments ; — sold every thing, even to the implements 
 of the trade at which he worked day and night to 
 maintain his family. He had concealed from his 
 beloved family these terrible secrets ; and while 
 his children played around him, he shuddered at 
 the idea of seeing them die of hunger. He had 
 
40 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 deprived himself of every thing, and feeding only 
 upon tears, in order to give to these unfortunate lit- 
 tle ones the last morsel of bread which remained 
 to him, at last he sunk under the weight of sadness. 
 " Alas ! " said I, " why did you not tell me soon- 
 er ? I will restore this trade to you ! you are not 
 alone and abandoned upon earth ; all hearts are 
 not closed to you ; you have found a false friend, 
 you shall now find faithful ones ; " a ray of joy 
 pierced the cloud, and he was restored to life. 
 
 Another unfortunate one, whom I wish to re- 
 lieve, seems to fear, and to fly from me. In the 
 midst of his pressing misfortunes, he seems to 
 tremble at the prospect of an unknown evil. 
 What is the matter? He wishes to expatriate 
 himself. Why ? Perhaps he is persecuted by a 
 powerful man, or exposed to the hatred or ven- 
 geance of an enemy. Perhaps a lawsuit, which 
 he cannot follow out, completes his ruin, when 
 the just triumph of his rights would give him an 
 honorable competency. I discover his danger. 
 He paints to me all the strength his oppressors 
 have to injure him ; all the violence of the ani- 
 mosity, of which he is the victim. " If your 
 cause is so just," I tell him, " I will embrace 
 it, and will find you support. Far from being 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 41 
 
 terrified by obstacles, I shall only be the more 
 proud and happy to defend you." He returns to 
 a feeling of security and is saved. — Another 
 announces in his manners and his language, a 
 Careful education ; but he has never spoken of his 
 family. I have touched upon the subject, and 
 found that it was a painful one to him. But by 
 my researches I find out, that a near relation, a 
 nephew, a brother, perhaps, are in easy circum- 
 stances, and have treated him with contempt 
 since the days of his misfortune ; blushing for the 
 ties which unite them to him, when the only shame 
 which ought to have covered their brow, was for 
 such indifference ! What did I say ? That para- 
 lytic old man, that infirm woman, has a son or a 
 daughter, who has a lucrative business, is dressed 
 with elegance, enjoys various pleasures, yet thus 
 neglects the positive duties, which the most sa- 
 cred rights of nature impose. Is it possible ? 
 Alas, it is but too true ! We see too many ex- 
 amples of unfortunate people, whom the cruel 
 indifference and selfishness of their families thus 
 abandon to public charity. I go to these unnatu- 
 ral relations, and succeed, perhaps, in moving 
 them. They repent, and repair their faults to- 
 wards those, whom their abandonment rendered 
 4* 
 
42 VISITOR OF THE POOR, 
 
 more unhappy than any privations. And, if I 
 fail in this, if their hearts are inflexible, I have 
 another resource, the fear of authority ; and the 
 tribunal of justice, if it cannot restore affection, 
 can, at least, bring forth the assistance which is 
 due. 
 
 Let the generous beware of thinking that they 
 have fulfilled the honorable career of charity, 
 when they have made an inventory of the exter- 
 nal necessities and resources which are to be sup- 
 plied ; or when they have provided an asylum, 
 furnished a garment, or given nourishment. There 
 is a necessity still more touching, and more diffi- 
 cult. Penetrate the secret of that afflicted heart. 
 By giving inward peace, you will do more than 
 by appeasing hunger. By restoring moral energy, 
 you will give the courage to perform useful labor, 
 and better to support privation and suffering. By 
 enlightening the reason, and reestablishing order 
 in a mind which distress had disturbed, you will 
 prepare it for the cares of order and economy. 
 Your consolations and counsels will be of more 
 worth, perhaps, than all your gifts. Are not the 
 miseries of the soul real miseries ? And should 
 charity be indifferent to them ? Perhaps these 
 revelations will be doubly painful to you ! Per- 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 43 
 
 haps the unfortunate one has been the victim of 
 his own faults ! Then you are called upon to cure 
 him of his vices, which are ruining him, or, at least, 
 to attempt their cure. For this work new light 
 will be necessary to you. 
 
 These things are all which it is necessary to 
 discover, and to note down. Perhaps, you must 
 also be silent as to the result of your discoveries ; 
 and your discretion will be another portion of your 
 ^beneficence. 
 
 But ; does poverty always freely expose itself? 
 and is not the poverty, which seeks concealment, 
 much the most respectable ? Doubtless. A feel- 
 ing of inquietude takes possession of me, for near 
 me dwells a whole family, shut up in a narrow 
 nook. I do not see them go in and out, their ex- 
 istence is hardly suspected. I meet one of the 
 children of this family ; he is sobbing. Some bro- 
 ken words alarm me. I caress him, but he repul- 
 ses and leaves me. I find my way to his parents, 
 and I learn all. The vicisitudes of time have de- 
 prived the father of some subaltern post he occu- 
 pied, and he has in vain sought to make himself 
 useful. He is too old to be apprenticed to a trade, 
 and he has exhausted all he possessed. In the 
 hope of recovering his place, he has taken upon 
 
44 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 credit, wherewith to maintain his family. The cred- 
 itor comes, and they show him their empty house. 
 He is irritated. O, why did I not know sooner ? Yes- 
 terday I had an opportunity to procure an occupa- 
 tion for this honest man. Again, here is a woman 
 absolutely alone in the world. Her dress is decent, 
 but her existence is mysterious. There is dignity 
 in her mien, and sadness upon her brow. How is 
 she employed ? and where does she come from ? 
 I inquire, and I find that she is a widow. Her 
 husband followed, with uprightness and diligent, a 
 humble employment, upon the profits of which 
 they both lived. He had a prospect of advance- 
 ment, but death came before he could obtain it, 
 and he left her pennyless. The unfortunate wo- 
 man is absorbed in grief for her loss, and hardly 
 knows that she will not have the means of surviving 
 him. Anonymous aid must relieve her misery, 
 while it spares her delicacy. 
 
 In the tables, we were about to draw up, we 
 omitted then an essential distinction ; that of the 
 indigent who beg, and the indigent who seek con- 
 cealment. We omitted a circumstance, which 
 ought to add still more to our interest and respect, 
 that sense of character, which noble minds pre- 
 serve under the weight of misfortune. 
 
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE POOR. 45 
 
 In the dispensation of relief to the poor, we had 
 also almost forgotten a kind of charity, peculiar to 
 certain situations ; such as recommendations to 
 kindness, and personal influence with others. 
 
 This leads us to the last order of considerations, 
 which will be particularly important to the visitor 
 of the poor. 
 
 To appreciate truly the circumstances of an un- 
 fortunate family, it is not sufficient to examine 
 their present necessities. It is well also to ascer- 
 tain their previous condition. Privations are much 
 more felt by those who have fallen from easy circum- 
 stances, and certain conveniences become almost 
 necessaries of life by the long habit of enjoying 
 them. All this increases, and becomes more im- 
 perious, in old age. More than all, the mental 
 suffering, which is joined to physical suffering, is 
 in proportion to the difference between the former 
 and subsequent condition. 
 
 I have found among the names of the indigent, 
 inscribed upon the list of my charity office, wid- 
 ows of officers, of notaries, and of merchants ; 
 daughters of old magistrates, of advocates, and of 
 literary men ; artists and retired officers, who have 
 been inmates of the hospitals. For what class is 
 not open to the blows of adversity ? The educa- 
 
46 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 tion which these persons have received, and the 
 situation which they have occupied in society, 
 render them naturally more susceptible, and de- 
 mand also of the visitor more discretion and con- 
 sideration. In such circumstances it will be neces- 
 sary to modify the choice and extent of the of- 
 fered assistance. Sometimes, it will be necessary 
 to abandon the wise and useful rule, which in gen- 
 eral proscribes any other assistance, than the 
 bestowment of articles of comfort ; and it will 
 become necessary to show to sufferers from such 
 reverses, a just confidence, by leaving to them 
 the free use of the money, we induce them to 
 accept. We cannot repeat it too often, that in 
 this matter, as in many others, there are no abso- 
 lute rules. All is relative. General formulas 
 may serve as land-marks, but they are not rules to 
 which we can blindly refer all particular cases. 
 The more nearly the visitor of the poor approach^ 
 es those to whom he is sent, the more will he be 
 struck with this difference. Objects are only con- 
 founded to the eyes of those, who see afar off, and 
 therefore only see very imperfectly. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 
 
 The spectacle of human miseries contempla- 
 ted closely, and considered with an attentive and 
 reflecting eye, is one of the most painful sources 
 of moral instruction, which can be opened to us 
 on earth. But still higher instructions spring 
 from it, when we see virtue triumph in the midst 
 of these same miseries. Then alone we learn to 
 know all the sublimity of its heroism, all the 
 extent of its power. 
 
 What are the virtues of those who live in ease, 
 and in the bosom of select society, endowed with 
 all the benefits of education, surrounded by a 
 respect and a consideration which we learn to re- 
 gard as necessary elements of our existence in the 
 world ? Do they really deserve the name of vir- 
 tues ? Where is the merit of them ? What are 
 the efforts they require ? Shall we dare to boast 
 of our common honesty ? Can any one be - as- 
 tonished that we do not fall into the low and de- 
 grading actions, which would make us despised ? 
 
48 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Shall we call ourselves benevolent, when the gifts 
 we bestow do not cost us a single privation ? 
 Shall we believe ourselves good, because we are 
 amiable, while every one around us is eager to 
 serve and please us ? And yet it is this shadow 
 of virtue, which is encouraged by applauses and 
 rewarded by eulogies, and promotes our success 
 and advancement in the world. Let us rather 
 remember those unknown virtues, which the man- 
 tle of poverty and obscurity hides ; and blush at 
 the esteem we receive. 
 
 With the poor and miserable every thing be- 
 comes an opportunity of a virtue that is really 
 and with difficulty acquired. Overwhelmed at 
 once by reverses of fortune, and the disdain 
 of the rich ; exiled, as it were, from society, and 
 the banquet of life ; banished as if to a desert, 
 even in the midst of cities, by the abandonment 
 in which he is left, the poor man sees every thing 
 conspire against him. Every thing seems hostile, 
 and the most legitimate affections of nature be- 
 come a source of suffering to his heart. Yet 
 spleen and bitterness do not take possession of 
 him. He is not irritated by events. He does 
 not accuse men. He does not murmur against 
 Providence. On the contrary, he submits. He 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 49 
 
 accepts the terrible lot, which is assigned him here 
 below, and is resigned to it. His is a resignation 
 wonderful in its peaceful silence, and of which 
 we perhaps should not be capable, if we were 
 thrown into the same condition ! It is a resigna- 
 tion which supposes a courage more difficult, and 
 more rare, than brilliant valor. It is a courage 
 constant and equable, renewing every day and 
 every instant under new wants and privations, 
 on which no hope gleams in the future, and in 
 which the most dreadful extremities are to be 
 feared. There is not perhaps on earth a virtue 
 more necessary, more painful to practise, and 
 at the same time more glorious, even in its obscu- 
 rity, than patience. And it is in the asylum of the 
 poor, that models of this virtue may be studied. 
 It is often to this sanctuary that we must go, to 
 contemplate it in all its sublimity. I confess, 
 that it is sweet to me to find this opportunity to 
 satisfy an urgent desire of my heart, to acquit, I 
 might almost say, a sort of debt, by being able to 
 render homage to those touching virtues, of which 
 the world has no suspicion. I would it were pos- 
 sible for me to show them living, to those who 
 read this recital ; and that they might partake the 
 profound emotion they inspire in myself. 
 5 
 
50 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 I have seen a wellborn young lady, whom the 
 reverses of her family had plunged into indigence, 
 after having been reduced for subsistence to the 
 labor of her hands, attacked by a cancer. She 
 suffered acute pains. Every thing failed her. 
 She had not even linen, with which to dress her 
 wounds. She had not even a bed to repose upon 
 in her agony. She saw her malady increase from 
 day to day, and she felt that her strength was 
 declining. She had no other prospect of relief, 
 than the tomb open to receive her. But not a 
 complaint escaped her lips. Her countenance 
 was serene and gentle, and her calmness was not 
 impaired a single moment, till the hour of her 
 release.* 
 
 I have seen also a mother of six children ex- 
 tended night and day upon a little straw in a gar- 
 ret, with a fatal ulcer, which was destroying her, 
 and not able to give bread to those poor little 
 beings, who were weeping around her. In her 
 own husband too, who ought to have been her 
 consolation and support, she had an additional 
 subject of cutting sorrow ; and she was thus sup- 
 
 * This sufferer was Mademoiselle Blais, who died March 
 10, 1825. 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 51 
 
 porting, at the same time, the sufferings of body 
 and soul. But she supported them with an unal- 
 terable sweetness, pardoning even the unworthy 
 husband who aggravated her woes instead of 
 relieving them ; and who abused the succours des- 
 tined for her, and consumed them himself in 
 drunkenness. I have seen aged, infirm, and for- 
 saken widows, occupying a nook so low and nar- 
 row, that one could scarce enter it, and having no 
 other light than what came from the stair-case, 
 and there waiting the immense favor of entering 
 into a hospital ; (for such is the great and supreme 
 ambition ; such the object of the wishes of a great 
 number.) And, alas, how many desire it in vain, 
 and cannot obtain it ! I have seen miseries which 
 pass all belief, and physical tortures, united with 
 the most pressing wants and the most painful 
 privations ; and all these endured by martyrs of 
 patience, without aid, hope, or witness, submitting 
 to the divine will. Where are crowns worthy of 
 such triumphs ? What tenderness mingles with 
 our respect, when we think, that the beings called 
 to display such courage, are feeble women, and 
 old men already exhausted by long trials. 
 
 The too common effect of suffering and priva- 
 tion is to cool the heart, and incline it to selfish- 
 
52 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 ness. We too often see sad examples of this 
 among persons, who have received a careful edu- 
 cation. How highly then should we regard, in 
 the indigent, the affections which they preserve, 
 when, instead of being soured by adversity, in- 
 stead of being absorbed by the feeling of their 
 own wa ts, they still know how to live for others, 
 and in others ! How powerful and beautiful must be 
 this faculty of loving, which can survive such dis- 
 tress ! In some families of the indigent, you will see 
 the most touching examples of conjugal love, and of 
 all the domestic affections; you will see mothers 
 refusing themselves every thing, in order to sup- 
 port their children, and widows who cannot be 
 consoled for the loss of their husbands. Lately 
 we have been witnesses of a touching struggle be- 
 tween an aged mother and her daughter, herself 
 the mother of a numerous family. The mother 
 had asked to be received into a hospital, and 
 insisted upon obtaining this favor, in order not to 
 be a burden, in her last days, with the infirmities 
 she foresaw for herself, to a family already very 
 much straitened. The daughter warmly solicited 
 a refusal for her mother, desiring to take care of 
 her herself, when this care should become neces- 
 sary ; and only counting as pleasures, the sacri- 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 53 
 
 fices which she imposed upon herself, to fulfil this 
 pious duty. 
 
 An old soldier, made infirm by his wounds, with 
 his wife and numerous children, had been taken 
 home by a simple workman, the brother-in-law of 
 the wife, who shared with them the fruits of his 
 labor. This estimable man was killed. A few 
 crowns only remained to these poor people ; and 
 they consecrated them to the procuring of a dis- 
 tinct grave, to receive the mortal remains of their 
 benefactor, over which they often go to pray in 
 memory of him. # 
 
 Who would think it ? In the midst of poverty, 
 a poor man still finds means to give, and takes 
 pleasure in giving. He gives, — what ? He 
 gives his time ; that time, which we often make 
 him waste unnecessarily. He gives his time and 
 cares to other unfortunate beings, and sacrifices to 
 them a portion of the labor, from which he expects 
 
 * This workman, hardly twenty-five years old, and 
 whose life, though short, was so admirable, was killed in 
 Paris by a drunken soldier with a sabre, having gone into 
 the midst of a scuffle to draw one of his friends out of it. 
 His name was Monjoidin, born at the village of St Cyr. 
 His brother-in-law is named Leprince, and now lires at 
 Paris. 
 
 5* 
 
54 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 all his subsistence. Sometimes he even shares 
 the charity he has received. One lends his arm 
 to a cripple, another watches by the bed of a sick 
 man. I know a woman, who, at the age of eighty, 
 no longer able to walk, spins with a trembling 
 hand ; and having no other resource, gives hos- 
 pitality in the little closet she occupies, to another 
 poor person, who has neither abode nor asylum.* 
 I know another, who received into his own bed, a 
 friend afflicted with a terrible ulcer, and continued 
 the exercise of self-devotion during the whole 
 course of a long malady, till the day her compan- 
 ion descended into the tomb. I know the moth- 
 er of a family, who succeeds in being, as it were, 
 a sister of charity to other unfortunate women, 
 lodged in the same house, because she preserves 
 
 * Madame Lenoir, rue Guisarde. — We could name 
 many others, and even without quitting this little street. 
 We ask permission to quote names sometimes ; for we are 
 not composing 1 a fictitious story. We relate real facts, of 
 which we might give numerous examples. We particu- 
 larize them, in order that they may be verified. We do 
 not fear being thought indiscreet; for these good peo- 
 ple will never read the book where their names are writ- 
 ten. Is there not some use in drawing virtues like these 
 from the profound obscurity in which they are buried ? 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 55 
 
 her health and strength, and the others are sick. 
 She watches with them, lifts them, takes care of 
 them, does errands for them, and in asking for her 
 companions, forgets to ask for herself. 
 
 What a value have gifts and sacrifices in cir- 
 cumstances like these ? Celestial charity ! With 
 what lustre does she appear, when she creates a 
 power of being useful, amidst absolute want, bely- 
 ing the maxim, that we do not give when we have 
 not I — How well did He know the secrets of vir- 
 tue, who ranked the widow's mite above the lar- 
 gesses of the rich ? 
 
 The poor are sometimes accused of being un- 
 grateful. Let us look at this accusation. Have 
 we ourselves no share in the guilt of this ingrati- 
 tude, when, for the gifts which might touch the 
 heart, we have substituted alms which humble the 
 spirit ; or, when, in the assistance we have granted, 
 the poor man saw a concession torn from us by im- 
 portunity, rather than the spontaneous impulse of 
 true sympathy ? It is heart alone which merits 
 a return of heart. True generosity is an emanation 
 of love ; and the gratitude it excites, receives its no- 
 blest character, by becoming also the reward of love. 
 If the poor man sees that you have been moved and 
 affected by his condition, if his soul has entered 
 
56 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 into communion with yours, he will know how to 
 repay you with his affections a hundred fold, for 
 the little which you have done for him ! What fa- 
 vors could ever purchase that look of the unfortu- 
 nate, which beams with new life at the presence 
 of his benefactor ; those eyes which are fixed on 
 him full of tenderness, confidence, and respect ; 
 those prayers sent to heaven for his safety, when 
 he is in danger ? 
 
 A poor woman, the mother of a family, whose 
 husband had been killed at the opera, had the mis- 
 fortune lately to be made a cripple for the rest of 
 her days. A carriage passed over her body. As 
 she was going out of the hospital, with the assis- 
 tance of her crutches, some one spoke to her of 
 her fatal accident. She only answered by cele- 
 brating the goodness of a family which had come 
 to her assistance when the accident took place, 
 and had promised her the relief and assistance of 
 which she might stand in need ; and the benedic- 
 tions, with which she loaded this family, shed over 
 the features of this unfortunate woman a sort of 
 gentle and serene joy. She seemed actually to be 
 made happy by her gratitude ! How I should have 
 desired that the family, which was the object of 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 57 
 
 this sentiment, had been present to hear the touch- 
 ing expression of it. # 
 
 We require that the poor man should be moved 
 by a deep sentiment of gratitude, when he re- 
 ceives the bounty which we extend to him, per- 
 haps with coldness and disdain. But we do not 
 take account of that uncontaminated honesty 
 to which he remains faithful in the midst of the 
 wants which press upon him. Should we not give 
 him credit when, a witness of the abundance in which 
 we live, and the luxury which surrounds us, he 
 gives envy no access to his heart. At least, let us 
 be able to acknowledge how honorable is that 
 scrupulous delicacy, of which he often affords us the 
 example ! We frequently observe a certain reserve 
 in his demands, from the fear of being indiscreet, 
 or of diminishing the part reserved for his com- 
 panions in misfortune. Among the convalescent 
 that leave the hospital of Paris, who, by the very 
 way in which they live there, show plainly, that 
 their situation is not destitute, half will not ask to 
 participate in the Montyon Legacy, and many refuse 
 this assistance even when it is offered them. A 
 laboring woman seventy-two years of age, having 
 
 * This family was that of Dr. R., physician of l'Hotel 
 Dieu in Paris. 
 
58 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 been sick all winter, had exhausted her last re- 
 sources, and had placed at the Mont de Piete, all 
 her effects, even to her bed. She did not reveal 
 the secret of her distress till just before the end 
 of two quarters' rent, when she acknowledged, that 
 she could not discharge it by her labor. Let us ren- 
 der homage to this sense of character, which main- 
 tains itself in the bosom of so much humiliation, 
 and which knows how to preserve the sentiment of 
 the common dignity of our nature ; and let us be 
 grateful to it for reminding us of the respect due to 
 it, and the especial respect due to misfortune, 
 when we were about to forget it ! 
 
 Do not let any one mistake the object of the 
 considerations which occupy us here. We do not 
 pretend to maintain, that virtue is more frequent 
 among the poor than among the rich. We limit 
 ourselves to the assertion, that virtue is at least 
 much more frequent among the former, than is gen- 
 erally suspected at the usual distance from the 
 theatre of observation. We intend above all to 
 make it felt, that virtue, in the lower conditions of 
 life, is much more real, and therefore more merito- 
 rious, and more worthy of admiration. For in 
 the first place, as we have just seen, its practice is 
 much more difficult ; and again, circumstances 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 59 
 
 seem to lend to beings placed in this situation less 
 strength for the struggle, of which virtue is the 
 prize. In most cases they have received but a very 
 defective education ; they have participated less 
 than ourselves in the exercises calculated to de- 
 velope the moral sentiments, and in the knowledge, 
 which instructs us in our duties, and reveals to us 
 the advantages attached to the accomplishment of 
 these duties. In the solitude to which they are 
 condemned, they are hardly supported by exam- 
 ples, encouraged by exhortations, guided by coun- 
 sels, or animated by the sweets of friendship. 
 They have not that resource, which comes in so 
 many ways to charm and temper our griefs, name- 
 ly, the power of turning away the mind from their 
 circumstances. Nothing diverts them from the 
 sorrows which prey upon them. Every thing 
 around them has a gloomy and sombre tint, and is 
 in sorrowful harmony with their situation. Their 
 very abode often resembles a dungeon. They are 
 not, like us, assisted by the power of opinion, and 
 constrained by the presence of spectators to pre- 
 serve an honorable appearance. They must draw 
 from themselves alone the strength which they 
 need. Having nothing to expect from without, 
 they have only their own consciences for witnesses. 
 
60 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Yet let us not exaggerate. Some of the cir- 
 cumstances we have enumerated, have their ad- 
 vantages. It is the very habit of suffering priva- 
 tions, a habit which has tempered their souls, 
 which has accustomed them to command them- 
 selves. Besides, they belong generally to the class 
 which supposes assiduous and painful labor. Now 
 labor is in itself a very salutary preparation for the 
 practice of virtue, disposing man to order, perse- 
 verance, and temperance. It is a sort of moral 
 gymnastics, accustoming the creature to walk with 
 docility in the way marked out by the Creator, and 
 to look upon himself as the instrument of the will of 
 Heaven. But these advantages of the unfortu- 
 nate do not take from their title to esteem ; and 
 although they serve to explain to us how these 
 beings can rise to actions almost heroic, they do 
 not diminish their value in the eyes of the sage. 
 It is true that misfortune is a great school, and as 
 instructive as it is severe. But all do not profit 
 by its instructions ; and to know how to receive 
 and apply them, is the highest of human attain- 
 ments. 
 
 Misfortune, supported with dignity and resigna- 
 tion, imparts also the highest instruction to him 
 who is the witness of it. It tells him more than 
 
VIRTUES OF THE POOR. 61 
 
 looks can do, and leaves deeper impressions. 
 Thus the poor whom our frivolity had perhaps dis- 
 dained, become our instructers. They cover us 
 with salutary confusion, by teaching us how far we 
 are from being as good as we supposed ourselves 
 to be. This is one of the most precious rewards re- 
 served for us, if we have the courage to visit assidu- 
 ously the dwellings of the poor ; and in this single 
 lesson, we shall receive a hundred fold for the ben- 
 efits of which we have been the instrument. We 
 shall return to our homes better men. We shall 
 have acquired new light, and new strength. For 
 would not such examples excite lively emulation, 
 and make the practice of virtue seem more easy 
 to us ? Would not the evils of which we complain 
 become lighter ? Often a simple and ingenuous 
 word which escapes from some patient martyr will 
 become to us the text of deep meditation. We 
 shall learn, in presence of these modest virtues, 
 to free ourselves from that vanity and pride, which 
 too often corrupt our best actions. We shall learn 
 two very important and difficult things, to the study 
 of which we are but too reluctantly brought ; we 
 shall learn how to svffer and how to die, 
 6 * 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 VICES AND MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 
 
 We have spoken of the virtues of the poor. 
 But we must not conceal the fact, that they are 
 exposed to the contagion of vice ; and that there 
 are vices with which they are particularly threat- 
 ened. We must study these moral maladies, that 
 we may learn how to prevent, or, at least, how to 
 remedy them. For such is one of the duties, and 
 perhaps the most important duty, confided to the 
 visitor of the poor. 
 
 As virtue is much more necessary to the poor, 
 to render their condition supportable, and pre- 
 serve to them the means of drawing on the re- 
 sources which may yet remain to them ; so vice 
 aggravates in every way their painful situation, 
 and ends by rendering it desperate. 
 
 Beside the misfortunes caused by events and the 
 chances of human life, there are many which are 
 the unfortunate consequence of misconduct ; and 
 the same cause which has produced them will 
 increase their extent and perpetuate their du- 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 63 
 
 ration. In such instances, to remedy the mal- 
 adies of the soul, is to remedy in part the conse- 
 quent misery. When a poor man foolishly dis- 
 sipates the few resources which remain to him, loses 
 his time, and ruins his health ; he digs for himself 
 the abyss in which he is to be swallowed up. 
 Any outward relief we bring to such an individual 
 is superfluous ; he would perhaps abuse it. To 
 relieve him efficiently it is necessary to reform 
 him. What is the use of clothing him, if we 
 cannot keep him from despoiling himself? In vain 
 we open to him the path of safety, if we do not 
 enable him to direct himself in it. 
 
 While the destruction of moral character mul- 
 tiplies and prolongs physical evils, it also renders 
 the suffering from them more lively and cruel; 
 and is not man so much the more unfortunate, the 
 more he feels his poverty ? Without inward conso- 
 lation, he is irritated against Providence, exas- 
 perated towards his fellow men, and becomes 
 troublesome to himself. Losing confidence in his 
 own dignity, he loses the courage which made his 
 distress tolerable. His blind agitation fixes more 
 deeply the arrow with which he was wounded. 
 His heart shuts itself to hope, and all peaceful 
 and gentle sentiments. He condemns himself to 
 
64 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 real punishment ; for he is forced to acknowledge 
 that he deserves what he suffers ; and this terrible 
 truth, whose weight is not alleviated by repen- 
 tance, overwhelms him entirely. He is guilty 
 towards himself, and his just punishment is his 
 crime. 
 
 But what do I hear ? Some one stops me, and 
 says ; " The man does not deserve to be assisted, 
 whose misfortunes are the fruit of vice, and who 
 perseveres in his ignominy ; he only suffers what 
 he has deserved, and has wilfully brought upon 
 himself; let us reserve our bounty for those who 
 are worthy of it." Who is this inflexible, inexor- 
 able, ferocious moralist, from whose mouth issues 
 this terrible sentence ? If the victim of vice is the 
 author of his own misfortunes, can I not do him a 
 still more signal benefit, if I succeed in delivering 
 him from the errors which have ruined him? 
 Shall I renounce the ministry which is confided 
 to me, because it may become still more useful ? 
 shall I only have compassion for external mise- 
 ries ? Shall I be indifferent to those of the soul ? 
 The more horror we have of vice, and the more 
 esteem we have for virtue, the more zeal we shall 
 employ in extending the conquest of virtue over 
 vice. What do you tell me ? Shall I have done 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 65 
 
 a less laudable action, because society, counting 
 one unhappy individual less, will at the same time 
 count one honest man more ? 
 
 He who devotes himself to the touching office 
 of relieving the poor, will comprehend that Provi- 
 dence has called him to a still nobler duty. By 
 affording him favorable opportunities to shed upon a 
 fertile soil the salutary influences of morality, it 
 has confided to him a sort of apostleship. In the 
 world, many circumstances are opposed to direct 
 instruction, which, besides, would usually destroy 
 its own end. But here it is otherwise ; the un- 
 fortunate being to whom charity has led us, is 
 perhaps friendless ; perhaps no voice has made him 
 understand the gentle and salutary words which 
 morality makes use of as medicines for inward 
 evils ; our presence alone, if we bring him encour- 
 agement and assistance, will dispose him to be 
 affected by us, and to conceive, and to feel that 
 there is for human beings an order of things su- 
 perior to material life ; the interest we show for 
 him will give authority to the counsels inspired by 
 our tender solicitude for his fate. The heart is 
 prepared to comprehend God and virtue, when it 
 opens to consolation and hope. Let not the visi- 
 tor of the poor be then merely a distributer of 
 6# 
 
66 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 alms ! let him become a guide and true friend to 
 the poor ! let him elevate in his own eyes the 
 being cast off by the world and humbled by the 
 frivolous disdain of hard hearts ! let him reveal to 
 him all the dignity and value of the advantages 
 which are hidden under the sad circumstances of 
 poverty ! 
 
 The advantages of adversity are great in the 
 eyes of religion and morality. Jesus Christ 
 teaches us that the poor and forsaken are the favor- 
 ites of God, a sublime revelation which alone 
 would have been sufficient to make the Gospel 
 blessed by all the earth ! Philosophy and mo- 
 rality make us recognise in all the ills of life, 
 trials which exercise and prepare us to become 
 better, — a harsh but salutary education, which has 
 for its end our reformation, our self-government, 
 the destruction of selfishness in its first begin- 
 nings, and our preparation for sympathy with our 
 brethren. Penetrated with these views, we shall 
 approach the poor man with a sentiment of re- 
 spect ; our regard will make him comprehend 
 what he is perhaps ignorant of, his true situation 
 in the World, the rank which he occupies, and the 
 prospects that await him. Oh ! if he only knew 
 the gift of God! blessed are the poor, blessed 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 67 
 
 are they that mourn! The admirable mystery 
 contained in these words it is difficult for the 
 unfortunate being to understand, who is still a 
 captive in the narrow circle of sensual life ; but it 
 begins to reveal itself in the presence of charity. 
 In the benevolence with which he sees himself 
 approached by a good man, he perceives a ray of 
 that supreme goodness which seeks out, calls, and 
 adopts him. 
 
 If, as is too often the case, we find it impossible 
 to diminish his troubles, at least we will assist him 
 in rendering them useful ; and if he knew how to 
 contemplate them under this aspect, they would 
 already be less bitter. To learn to bear suffering 
 is more than to be relieved. But the sufferer is 
 hardly disposed to receive such instruction except 
 from the mouth of him who relieves him ; he more 
 easily believes him whose benevolence he expe- 
 riences. If he hears harsh maxims upon the 
 utility of grief, pronounced by those who do not 
 console him, he is too apt to think that resignation 
 is preached to him only to avoid the necessity of 
 giving him assistance, and that we wish to ac- 
 custom him to his sad fate because we can give 
 him no hope of relief. Those can converse with 
 him upon the designs of Providence, who are the 
 
68 
 
 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 sensible organs of Providence to him ; and may- 
 assist him in discovering the treasures which are 
 offered him, and in seizing that crown which is 
 reserved for him ! What is there more terrible to 
 him who mourns, than to mourn in vain ? What 
 is there more beautiful than to find in the most 
 harsh and mysterious sufferings, a means of per- 
 fection and a matter of triumph ? The former is 
 the misfortune which the visitor of the poor may 
 turn aside, the latter is a benefit which he may 
 add to all others. 
 
 But in the designs of Providence, adversity is 
 not only a trial destined to render us better, by 
 the exercise of patience ; it is also a correction 
 destined to punish our faults, and to reform our 
 vices, and in this double relation it is equally a 
 great and salutary means of moral education. 
 
 Suffering and privation tend to make man enter 
 into himself and suggest to him grave and serious 
 reflections. If he obeys this useful inspiration, if 
 he examines himself with severity, if he lets the 
 voice of repentance rise from the bottom of his 
 heart, he will accept this just chastisement of his 
 faults ; he will shake off the chains in which vice 
 held him captive ; he will feel that, having allowed 
 the moral dignity of our nature to be degraded 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 69 
 
 in his person, through a want of self-government, 
 he can only restore himself by resuming self-gov- 
 ernment ; he will comprehend that adversity is pre- 
 cisely the spur to excite him to attempt this great 
 internal revolution, that the constraint which is 
 imposed upon him from without, by imperious 
 necessity, teaches him to exercise over himself 
 and over his inclinations, that voluntary constraint 
 in which consists the reform demanded by virtue. 
 
 Let not a blind and ill understood bounty, on 
 the part of those who relieve indigence, cause 
 those great lessons sent by Providence to be mis- 
 understood, or their fruits to be lost ! Let us 
 rather enter ourselves into this thought, but with 
 the reserve and indulgence imposed upon us by a 
 sense of our own imperfection and the charity 
 which we owe to our brethren. Let us indirectly 
 second the harsh instruction which the poor man is 
 to receive ; let us second it in proportion as it is 
 necessary to him, and as his distress is more par- 
 ticularly the consequence of his faults. 
 
 Unfortunately, if there are vices which engen- 
 der poverty, there are also vices which poverty 
 engenders ; distinct in their causes, they are con- 
 founded in their effects ; the eye of the visitor of 
 the poor ought to discriminate them ; he ought 
 
70 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 also to unravel the painful and reciprocal reaction 
 which they exercise over each other. 
 
 Intemperance and idleness are the two vices 
 which most generally engender misery. The 
 former produces it in two different ways ; by 
 impairing the health and by dissipating the re- 
 sources ; it has also the serious consequence of 
 enfeebling the reason and degrading the character. 
 Unfortunately, in the poorer conditions of society, 
 men condemned to painful labors and deprived of 
 the pleasures of intellect, and all those enjoy- 
 ments procured by the intercourse of society, 
 often become too greedy of sensual pleasures ; 
 they seek in them a relief from ennui, and take 
 pleasure in the deadening effect they produce, 
 while their want of foresight conceals from them 
 the fatal consequences which must spring from 
 them. Let us pity them ; they feel the need of 
 emotions, and seek it in excesses. Shut out from 
 the intellectual, they plunge into the animal life. 
 How should this sad experience make us feel the 
 value of public education, properly directed ! and 
 how should it condemn the cruel and absurd 
 maxims of the proud sophists who would devote 
 these large classes of society to brutality and 
 ignorance ! 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 71 
 
 Idleness often arises partly from temperament ; 
 but it always supposes previous habits of negli- 
 gence, and especially neglected education. It is 
 in youth, and even in childhood, that the taste 
 for labor must be contracted. Then, in satisfying 
 the desire of activity which is natural to us, the 
 habit of labor may be acquired, and it becomes 
 in its turn a second education. But, if, from in- 
 fancy, the physical and moral faculties have been 
 idle, if the effeminate pleasures of indolence have 
 exercised their fatal charm, if the first years of 
 life have passed without the springs of the soul 
 being kept in exercise by assiduous and regular 
 application, labor will inspire only repugnance and 
 disgust ; we shall soon have less aptitude for it, 
 and apathy will bring in its train negligence, want 
 of foresight, and disorder. 
 
 Intemperance often produces indolence, by the 
 general relaxation it occasions in the character; 
 idleness often opens the access to licentiousness, 
 and seductions multiply to him who is given up to 
 it. Besides these two vices have this in common, 
 that they enfeeble the energy of the will, and the 
 authority which man ought to exercise over his 
 own actions. 
 
72 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 The poverty to which these vices rapidly con- 
 duct, is their natural punishment ; and it would thus 
 seem that it ought to correct them ; repressing in- 
 perance by privations, and waking from lethargy 
 by the spur of want. However, the efficacious- 
 ness of the remedy is far from being infallible ; 
 the malady resists it, when it is inveterate. There 
 are no vices more difficult to cure than those 
 whose character it is to destroy moral energy, and 
 to degrade the dignity of our nature by delivering 
 us up to the slavery of the senses. 
 
 There is a degree of degradation so great, that 
 misery itself, though it takes away the means of 
 satisfying intemperance, still increases the fatal 
 avidity which leads to this kind of excess. The 
 corrupt and degenerate being, not only will not be 
 drawn from the mire, but losing every remnant of 
 a sense of character will not even blush any more ; 
 he will seek, in the fatal intoxication of the de- 
 bauch, to lose the sense of his own miseries, and 
 turn his thoughts from the future which awaits 
 him. He will snatch from his wife and children 
 the bread which w^as destined for them ; he will 
 sell or pledge the little which remains to them ; 
 he will consume to-day the resources which were 
 to provide for them to-morrow, and will thus end 
 by becoming unnatural. 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 73 
 
 Poverty brings discouragement upon weak 
 minds; abandoned by fortune, they also abandon 
 themselves. They despair of the future ; they 
 neither count upon the course of events, nor the 
 assistance of others, nor upon their own strength. 
 Their ideas are confounded, their will is stupefied. 
 The dejection, which is painted in their features, 
 announces the inward sinking of their faculties. 
 They no longer know how to act ; they are no 
 longer capable of vigorous resolutions ; they ne- 
 glect the smallest cares, even those of order and 
 neatness in their clothes, in their families, in the 
 education of their children ; and the neglect in- 
 creases. To the idleness of inefficiency succeeds 
 the idleness of despair ; the poor being only re- 
 tains the power to implore the pity of others ; 
 he is ready to accept his shame, to embrace the 
 condition of a beggar, although still capable of 
 labor, which you offer him as a resource, but from 
 which he turns away. 
 
 It is certainly a difficult undertaking to snatch 
 the poor man from a yoke so shameful, when he 
 is, as it were, stupefied. But we are never per- 
 mitted to despair of the cure of moral maladies. 
 There is not one absolutely incurable. In many 
 points of view, the visitor of the poor seems more 
 7 
 
74 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 particularly called upon to cooperate in the cure ; 
 for it may depend in part on the wise distribution 
 of charity. 
 
 The greatest service which can be rendered to 
 the poor, by those who are interested in their fate, 
 is certainly to employ every means to revive their 
 courage and energy. We do not hesitate to affirm 
 that such service will be more useful than the most 
 abundant alms-giving. It will restore to them the 
 activity of mind and body necessary for using the 
 resources which remain, and even for creating new 
 ones. By weakening their sense of their misery 
 it will make them less unhappy. By reestablish- 
 ing them in their own eyes, by giving them some 
 confidence in themselves, it will preserve them 
 from a thousand faults which would aggravate their 
 situation. But to obtain a moral restoration so 
 difficult, we cannot arm ourselves with too much 
 constancy ; we shall ourselves need much courage ; 
 it will sometimes be necessary to unite severe 
 firmness with an inexhaustible benevolence. 
 
 It would be contrary to humanity to show our- 
 selves so inexorable towards the indigent, who 
 are a prey to intemperance and idleness, as to re- 
 fuse them all kinds of assistance ; and it would in- 
 deed defeat the end we ought to propose to our- 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OP THE POOR. 75 
 
 selves. But it is allowable, it is just, it is useful, 
 to give charity upon conditions ; and to proportion 
 it, in a degree, to the merits of those who receive 
 it ; to require that he, to whom we lend support, 
 should also endeavour to assist himself, or at least 
 not destroy the good we wish to do him. Without 
 becoming barbarous, the visitor of the poor may 
 show himself severe. He will become more indul- 
 gent in proportion as he sees some attempt at re- 
 form ; he will encourage and reward efforts. He 
 will also apply himself to so managing assistance, 
 that the indigent may abuse it as little as possible. 
 He will not give them money, but necessary arti- 
 cles ; which he will furnish from day to day. He 
 will hold them in suspense, not pledging himself for 
 the morrow. He will constantly watch over the 
 conduct of the sick ; a look from him will serve 
 for warning, reprimand, or encouragement. The 
 poor man, who feels himself thus watched, will fear 
 to lose his protection, and will not perhaps be 
 insensible to the hope of deserving it. 
 
 Many of the poor resemble children, in ignorance, 
 want of foresight, and levity. Like children, they 
 sometimes need to feel correction and reward, 
 provided these are applied with entire justice. 
 There is nothing better calculated to oblige the 
 
76 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 slave of bad habits to return to himself, by saluta- 
 ry reflection. This regimen, prudently applied, 
 will lead the poor man to discover in the misery 
 of his condition the consequence and punishment 
 of his faults, and to accept it and profit by it. The 
 best of lessons to a man, are those which come to 
 him from his own mind. 
 
 In order to begin to make such degraded beings 
 understand useful truths, we are unfortunately 
 reduced to the necessity of speaking to them the 
 language of their own interest, and often that of 
 their lowest interest. Now this language is natu- 
 rally found in the mouth of him who really, with 
 a sincere solicitude, watches over their interests ; 
 and this circumstance sometimes gives credit to 
 his words. He is clothed with a sort of percepti- 
 ble and incontestable authority, that which results 
 from the dependence upon him of the poor man 
 who invokes his support. 
 
 The mere presence of a good man, when he 
 approaches him who has fallen into the abysses of 
 corruption, exercises over the miserable being 
 an insensible but salutary influence. It is like a 
 ray of new light which penetrates into the dark- 
 est obscurity ; it is an emanation of a pure atmo- 
 sphere which is introduced into an infectious abode. 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 77 
 
 Indeed, can virtue present itself under a form 
 more fit to make it recognised and respected by 
 those who had lost the memory of it, than when 
 it appears preceded by beneficence, surrounded 
 by hope, and giving us examples for our instruc- 
 tion ? Where is the man depraved enough, not 
 to feel some emotion at contemplating its image 
 under such an aspect ? He will begin by blessing 
 it ; will he not finish by understanding and desir- 
 ing to follow it ? Unfortunate man ! wake from 
 this sleep of death, in which thy soul is buried ; 
 raise thy brow, contemplate that good man who 
 advances towards thee ! Dost thou not feel, in 
 spite of the immense distance which is between 
 you, that he is still thy brother ? Does not this 
 noble consanguinity show thee, in the very bosom 
 of misery, the dignity of that common nature in 
 which thou participatest, although thou hast so 
 little understood it ? Dost thou not see that there 
 is for the human creature another existence than 
 vegetative and brutal life ? Dost thou not feel 
 that what renders thy misery humiliating, is that 
 thou addest degradation of character to the want 
 of earthly goods ; but that it would become respec- 
 table, if thou didst worthily support this trial ? 
 Ah ! do not resist the secret voice which makes 
 7* 
 
78 visitor or THE POOR. 
 
 itself heard within, and which solicits thee to 
 escape from the shipwreck. Return to the sense 
 of thy duty, and serene days may yet shine upon 
 thee. 
 
 It is especially with regard to intemperance and 
 debauchery, that corporal privation and sufferings 
 may have a salutary effect. It is rare that such 
 vices have been reformed without the assistance 
 of such chastisement ; which has, moreover, the 
 advantage of breaking up the habits. But we 
 cannot expect reform from the mere efficacy of 
 privations and sufferings, if there is not, in addition 
 to them, some moral influence, which may explain 
 and make them fruitful, and which, while the 
 senses sutler correction, may rekindle, in the 
 bottom of the soul, the flame of conscience. Idle- 
 ness also demands harsh and rough treatment ; 
 it must feel the law of necessity ; it is useful for 
 a sudden and piercing spur to arouse it suddenly 
 from its stupor. The calculations of interest may 
 be united to a sense of duty ; but, whatever pre- 
 tended sages say, this interest alone, however evi- 
 dent and however urgent it maybe, is not sufficient 
 to restore inward life to a being thus paralyzed ; mo- 
 rality is necessary to combine a new interest with 
 material interest, and the governing sense of duty 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 79 
 
 must be developed, to induce him to take care of 
 himself. 
 
 The moral malady of discouragement demands 
 particular care and regard ; it even demands deli- 
 cate and attentive management. In this case it 
 is only to the soul that it is necessary to bring 
 assistance. Let us first of all avoid humbling it, 
 or increasing its despair, by the excessive severity 
 of our censures. Let us first dissipate the thick 
 and gloomy cloud of sadness which envelopes 
 the unfortunate man, who is overwhelmed by 
 adversity ; let even the objects, which meet his 
 eye, be as much as possible adapted to restore to 
 him some serenity, and to produce pleasant im- 
 pressions. Let us compassionate his weakness 
 without indulging it. Let us listen to him with 
 patience when he is irritated, and abandons him- 
 self to depicting and even exaggerating his trials. 
 By learning to confide in another, he will be pre- 
 paring to have some confidence in himself. It 
 will be necessary at first to lend him external 
 support in order to begin to raise him up a little. 
 Then we must by degrees restore to him the con- 
 sciousness of his own strength, by making him 
 try it. We will show him by our indulgence, 
 that he can recover his self-esteem. If we sue- 
 
80 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 ceed in reestablishing him in his own eyes, we 
 shall have restored to him his will ; we shall have 
 taught him that he can still struggle and conquer. 
 Goodness of heart has wonderful secrets by which 
 to penetrate hearts. It has magic powers to 
 resuscitate the principles of life ; it is the messen- 
 ger of hope. 
 
 In our conversations with these poor people, 
 the most efficacious means of penetrating them 
 with useful truths, and suggesting to them good 
 resolutions, consists in citing them examples, pro- 
 vided these examples are taken from situations 
 entirely analogous to that in which they are found. 
 Thus you may begin by first exciting their at- 
 tention, and this first step not being the least 
 difficult, they become interested in your story ; 
 they comprehend you ; they conceive the possi- 
 bility of accomplishing what you advise them. 
 Imitation exercises peculiar influence over the 
 unenlightened. Be careful not to forget, in your 
 recital, any of the circumstances calculated to 
 produce a distinct image ; the place, the day, the 
 name, the countenance, even the abode of the 
 persons. If you can call a third person to confirm 
 this recital, if you can show the individuals, you 
 will interest still more. But do not rest contented 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 81 
 
 with a single example ; do not seem to demand 
 any thing extraordinary ; the idea of heroes some- 
 times frightens the weak. 
 
 Unfortunately, we often meet, in this very limit- 
 ed class, individuals, whom the want of education 
 and gross habits have reduced to the narrowest 
 circle of ideas ; or whose intellectual faculties 
 have been enfeebled by misery. Apathy of 
 character is then the consequence of a lethargy of 
 the reason ; nothing is more afflicting than such 
 a spectacle. What patience will not be necessary 
 to restore to such beings a little vital warmth ? 
 But the office of visitor of the poor is an office 
 of patience. 
 
 The vicious poor may be divided into two great 
 classes, those who have passed the threshold of 
 shame, and those who have not. There is little 
 to be hoped from the first ; but even if our efforts 
 are to be fruitless, we will not hesitate to make a 
 trial, to persevere. Perhaps we shall prevent 
 farther corruption ; at least they will be re- 
 strained by our watchful care. As to the second, 
 intercourse with a good man is one of the most 
 powerful preservatives against the danger of 
 degradation. For the time, there is a powerful 
 motive to make generous resolutions. Nothing 
 
82 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 is desperate ; and great rewards are held out to 
 zeal. 
 
 There is a third class, and it comprehends the 
 greatest number ; it is that of the poor who float 
 between vice and virtue ; whose thoughts are 
 exclusively absorbed by the necessities of life, 
 who vegetate without rendering themselves guilty, 
 but without acquiring any merit; — in short, those 
 who are not in moral life. This moral life is the 
 revelation which we are charged to carry to them ; 
 it is a light to be shed, an education to be under- 
 taken. But here we shall only have to struggle 
 against inattention and ignorance. In this being, 
 who lives, moves, and suffers, is hidden another 
 superior being, who sleeps ; a being capable of the 
 highest sentiment, and of immortal thoughts, It 
 is the latter we must awaken and put in posses- 
 sion of his faculties. 
 
 Let us not lose sight of the unfortunate being, 
 the care of whom we have taken up, especially 
 when he finds himself in any crisis which renders 
 his condition still more painful ; or when his char- 
 acter is preparing him for extreme resolutions. 
 Let us watch over him when he is threatened by 
 the storms of despair. Perhaps in the cruel ago- 
 nies he feels, he has thought of destroying himself! 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 83 
 
 The friend appears, discovers upon his brow 
 something wandering and ferocious. He cannot 
 succeed at first in making himself heard. He is 
 repulsed, yet he is not discouraged ; he seizes 
 upon some circumstances calculated to act upon 
 the mind of the unfortunate one ; a funeral, for 
 example, passes under their eyes. " Thou seest 
 this bier; it contains the remains of a young, 
 rich, and beautiful woman ; a cruel malady at- 
 tacked her ; she suffered horrible torments ; her 
 palace resounded with her cries ; she expired. 
 Behind her bier, behold her desolate husband ; he 
 says to himself, as thou dost, but more justly, that 
 he cannot survive his misfortune. Ah ! undeceive 
 thyself; thou art not the only unhappy one on 
 this earth. The sharp and rending arrows of 
 suffering penetrate on all sides, even to him whose 
 apparent felicity thou enviest." 
 
 Perhaps the visitor of the poor will not have to 
 go far to seek the example of great misfortunes ; 
 who is there that has not his own misfortunes to 
 relate ? " Unfortunate man ! thou turnest thine 
 eyes upon thy children ! Knowest thou what it 
 costs me to contemplate them ? Well, listen ! 
 I also had children ! one after another they have 
 been taken from me; one after another they 
 
84 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 have expired in my arms. Of what importance 
 to me, is this fortune which remains to me ? All 
 the hope, all the consolation of my old age is 
 taken from me ; there is no more happiness for 
 me on earth, I sigh for the tomb. — Ah ! cast a 
 look upon these sweet creatures, for whom there 
 is still a future, and cease to accuse Heaven. 
 Take courage, and thou art assisted ! take cour- 
 age, and thou wilt revive ; and, in thy mediocrity, 
 thou wilt be more happy than I can be." 
 
 And certainly in order to fulfill this noble mis- 
 sion, we must not remain strangers to the practice 
 of excellence. How can we teach virtue if we 
 are not penetrated by its lessons ? Thus the ca- 
 reer of charity we have embraced is a new advan- 
 tage to us ; it will bind us to our duties by new 
 ties ; we also shall become better for it, without 
 perceiving it ; we cannot give counsels to others^ 
 without coming back upon ourselves, and we shall 
 feel besides that the best counsels are examples. 
 Sometimes a man of the world, in fulfilling the 
 functions of visitor of the poor, will attempt to 
 speak thus. " Thou thinkest it impossible to tri- 
 umph over thyself, and to become again a good 
 man ! Well ! listen to me ; I have been young, 
 I was long carried away by my passions ; they 
 
MORAL AMELIORATION OF THE POOR. 85 
 
 were perhaps different from thine, but still were 
 violent. They had enslaved me ; I committed many 
 faults ; but at last I reflected and heard the voice 
 of truth and duty ; I hesitated, wished, and had 
 hard struggles ; but I freed myself, and now I 
 rejoice : Courage ! courage ! it depends upon 
 thyself to wake to virtue and to become better 
 than I am. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MEANS OF OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 
 
 To promote the moral improvement of the 
 poor, or even to do any thing effectual for the 
 relief of their physical wants, we must obtain 
 their confidence : but in this there are some diffi- 
 culties. 
 
 The poor will sometimes seek to deceive you. 
 The sense of want disposes to falsehood ; the 
 weak are apt to seek assistance from cunning. 
 Such can hardly avoid concealing their own faults, 
 and exaggerating their wants, in the presence of 
 those who seem able to relieve them. If you are 
 not able to verify the facts they allege, the more 
 they will flatter themselves that they can deceive 
 you. And having real need of your pity, they 
 think the false pictures they present to you are 
 only an allowable oratorical artifice, to fix your 
 attention and interest your feelings. 
 
 There are, on the contrary, others whom timidity 
 induces to hide from us their true situation ; for 
 what cause produces timidity more frequently than 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 87 
 
 misfortune ? They have not the courage to raise 
 the veil which envelopes so many miseries ; the 
 sight of our luxury and abundance imposes upon 
 them ; they blush for their miseries ; they fear to 
 try our patience ; they fear that their voice will be 
 troublesome to us in the midst of our enjoyments. 
 Sometimes a respectable sense of character in- 
 spires them with this reserve ; they do not wish 
 to expose themselves to our disdain. Sometimes 
 an exaggerated though commendable delicacy, 
 leads them to disguise their wants, as long as they 
 can hope to provide for them without external aid. 
 In general the differences of condition and for- 
 tune, raise between men a wall of separation, that 
 prevents intimate communication. Confidence, 
 like friendship, supposes a certain equality ; it 
 supposes some return, or at least a possibility of 
 return. To confide in another it is necessary to 
 be certain of being understood ; it is necessary 
 then to speak the same language, to be subject to 
 the same impressions, to be placed in the same 
 points of view. But what is there in common 
 between a poor man, who has received little edu- 
 cation, who has passed his life in the toils of 
 labor, who lives amidst privations of every kind, 
 and the prosperous man of the world, who is 
 
88 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 weary of pleasures, whose least desires are antici- 
 pated ? Hardly does the former recognise in the 
 latter a being that belongs to the same nature. 
 Perhaps unconsciously, a secret germ of envy is 
 developed in the heart of this unfortunate being 
 at the sight of one who is loaded with the gifts of 
 fortune, and if it does not lead him to bitterness, 
 at least it prevents him from opening his heart 
 freely. What sympathy can he hope from a being 
 who never has felt any sufferings like his ? What 
 attention can he hope will be given to details, 
 which, although to himself of the utmost impor- 
 tance, to such an auditor are absolutely without 
 interest ? He is put under constaint by the su- 
 periority which chance alone has granted to anoth- 
 er man, and by the kind of authority which this 
 circumstance lends to that man over his destiny ; 
 by the dependence in which he finds himself; and 
 by the idea of the examination, of which he is 
 about to become the object. He scarcely supposes 
 it possible that the favorite of fortune is exempt 
 from pride and vanity ; and nothing is more repel- 
 ling than a suspicion of this nature. Even if he 
 recognises the virtues of him who comes to his 
 assistance, he perhaps feels constraint from the 
 idea of those very virtues, and from foreseeing 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 89 
 
 the efforts which will be made to produce his 
 reformation. 
 
 Such then are the barriers between the visitor 
 of the poor and the poor man, although it is so 
 necessary that they should understand each other. 
 
 It is not in one day that we can triumph over 
 all these obstacles, nor is it by one class of means 
 that we shall surmount difficulties of a nature so 
 different. 
 
 The liar may be known by his affirmative tone, 
 his affected assurance, and the abundance of his 
 words ; by the precaution he takes to avoid all 
 verification of the facts he alleges, by his eager- 
 ness to come to visit us, by the pretexts he em- 
 ploys to spare us the trouble of unexpected visits 
 which we would make him. Let us be suspicious 
 of every demand whose object is announced as so 
 urgent that it does not leave time for reflection 
 and examination. Let us be suspicious of every 
 recital too well arranged not to have been pre- 
 pared beforehand and learnt in some degree by 
 heart. Let us compare all the circumstances. 
 Let us be at the very heels of him who wishes to 
 take us by surprise ; if necessary, let us make 
 him fall, in his turn, into some snare, in which his 
 falsehood may be brought to light, in order that he 
 8* 
 
90 
 
 VISITOR OP THE POOR. 
 
 may be covered with a salutary confusion. It is 
 painful to say it ; but daily experience forces us 
 to acknowledge, that, too often, the poor affect 
 great exactness in their religious observances, 
 to make the benevolent more favorable to them. 
 It is by penetrating into their internal history, by 
 studying their domestic relations, and their conduct 
 as neighbours, and by examining the use they make 
 of their time, that we unmask their hypocrisy. 
 Whatever may be the just importance we attach 
 to religious duties, let us not make their observ- 
 ance so much a condition of our favor, that the 
 poor man who accosts us, shall think himself 
 obliged to begin by an apology for his neglect of 
 them ; let us not give him reason to suppose that 
 the performance of such duties can excuse the 
 neglect of any others. 
 
 A too easy kindness may become an encourage- 
 ment to falsehood. It is then necessary to know 
 how to restrain our own impulses, and sometimes 
 not to show ourselves too quickly affected, al- 
 though it is painful to guard ourselves against our 
 own hearts. To unmask falsehood, we may feign 
 for an instant to be duped ; but to correct it, it is 
 necessary to convince a liar, that far from finding 
 any advantage in deceiving, there is nothing to 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 91 
 
 be hoped, but from scrupulous veracity. When the 
 inclination to deceive among the poor announces a 
 depth of baseness, let us preserve a calm and 
 measured dignity ; let us impress them, if possible, 
 with a respect which may repress the abuse they 
 make of speech ; let them see us attentive, careful 
 to verify facts, and always just in our conduct 
 towards them. Equity calls forth truth ; indeed 
 they are sisters. 
 
 But let us beware of arming ourselves with 
 these precautions in regard to those who do not 
 deserve our suspicions. When we meet with those 
 interesting poor who dare not reveal all the secrets 
 of their misfortunes, let us not be in haste to wrest 
 from them their confidence by indiscreet curiosity ; 
 let us fear to wound them ; let us respect the mod- 
 esty in which they envelope their misery ; let them 
 see that we honor in them both misfortune and the 
 dignity with which they support it. Let us not 
 violate the asylum in which they have taken ref- 
 uge i let them open it to us themselves ; let us 
 question them but little ; let us wait till they are 
 ready to speak to us. Oh ! who could pardon 
 himself for having humbled or offended a sufferer 
 by an injurious doubt ? On the contrary let us 
 raise him in his own eyes by our regard and by the 
 
92 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 testimony of our esteem ! We must be able, on 
 proper occasions, to believe him upon his word ; 
 and to avoid that, which, under the form of chari- 
 ty, would express suspicion. 
 
 We cannot prescribe to ourselves too particu- 
 larly, to observe respect in our manners and 
 language towards those poor whose moral char- 
 acter is not degraded. This regard is due in the 
 first place, to the dignity of human nature, which 
 their misery cannot change ; and it is due, also, 
 to their patience and courage. By raising them 
 in their own eyes their courage will be sustained ; 
 the bitterness of their sorrows calmed ; they will 
 be drawn near to us ; and receive a certain and 
 delicate proof of our benevolence ; for benevolence 
 is counted upon only when it is felt to be uni- 
 ted with esteem. It is doubtless impossible to de- 
 stroy entirely, in the minds of the poor, the impres- 
 sions produced by the difference of situation in which 
 Providence has respectively placed them and us. 
 But we can weaken these impressions, by not 
 dwelling too much upon the circumstances of this 
 contrast. We should not call them to be wit- 
 nesses of our luxury and pleasures. In this point 
 of view, as in many others, there will be a great 
 advantage in going to their houses rather than in 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 93 
 
 receiving them at ours ; taking care at the same 
 time that access to our houses shall never be de- 
 nied them. Allowing them to approach us with 
 facility every time they have need of us, prevents 
 the most painful kind of humiliation, that which 
 arises from the apprehension of meeting a rebuff. 
 But the visit we make to the poor man, in his 
 own dwelling, fills up this artificial gulf much 
 better. There, it is with his situation alone that 
 we are both occupied ; there he finds us much 
 better disposed to listen to him ; there he sees in 
 the conversation we hold with him, not mere 
 condescension on our part, but the testimony of 
 sincere interest. Let nothing in our manners or 
 expressions betray repugnance and disgust on our 
 part, at the sight of the rags of misery. Let noth- 
 ing announce either the affectation of fastidious 
 charity, making a merit of this effort, or the 
 researches of suspicious investigation, or the 
 secret springs of a vanity which thinks it stoops 
 by such intercourse ! Every thing, in this visit, 
 must preserve on our part the most natural char- 
 acter and the simplest forms. How much will 
 these good people be affected ! With what 
 marks of attention will our arrival be welcomed ! 
 How radiant with joy will they be at having 
 
94 
 
 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 us with them as their guest, even while exclaiming 
 against the fatigue we have felt, and the sad recep- 
 tion they are reduced to the necessity of giving us 
 in their miserable abode. 
 
 Whatever may be the difference of ranks, let 
 us, as much as is in our power, feel ourselves and 
 make them feel the ties of religious and moral 
 brotherhood. If the poor man sees us sincerely 
 convinced of these sacred relations, which unite 
 all the members of the human family, he will be 
 more sensible of them himself, and better able to 
 find the means of entering into communion with 
 us. We must really love him ; this is the whole 
 secret. Misfortune has a truly wonderful instinct 
 in discerning and recognising the affection which 
 is addressed to it. Let him never be able to fear 
 troubling us by his complaints ! Let us listen to 
 him, not only with patience, but with favorable 
 attention ; it is one of the traits by which benev- 
 olence best manifests itself. Let us not require 
 too much of him ; let us not refuse to enter into 
 the smallest details ; paternal solicitude neglects 
 nothing. We must know how to pardon excusable 
 faults, in the midst of so many unfavorable circum- 
 stances. Who would dare to open his heart without 
 reserve, to tell and confess every thing, if he were 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 95 
 
 not sure of the indulgence of the listener? Let 
 us put ourselves in the place of the poor man. 
 let us speak his language, let us imagine that we 
 have his habits, let us show ourselves seriously- 
 occupied with all his interests ; especially let us 
 associate ourselves with the interests of his heart ! 
 A caress bestowed upon the children will open the 
 heart of the mother ; perhaps then she will be 
 drawn into telling you a portion of the griefs which 
 sadden her ; she will relate to you different cir- 
 cumstances of her life ; she will show you the 
 details of her little family; she will consult you 
 upon her fears and her projects ; she will find her- 
 self relieved at the same time that she is enlight- 
 ened ; she will not fear you so much again. Re- 
 joice at having obtained this gentle victory over 
 her ! Do not endeavour to know every thing 
 immediately, but do not let this happy disposition 
 cool ; return soon, resume naturally the course of 
 these conversations. They have already pro- 
 duced their fruits, for you have been better ena- 
 bled to give useful assistance ; hereafter she will 
 be at ease with you. Oh ! what a moment is that, 
 in which a heart overwhelmed with so many sor- 
 rows, can at last open itself with freedom to 
 a heart which listens to it and compassionates it ! 
 
96 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 What consolation to the sufferer ! What reward 
 to him who relieves ! It is as if a new power had 
 appeared upon earth, to protect humanity against 
 the attacks of grief. 
 
 Even if the poor man is not overwhelmed with 
 a sense of the difference of situations, but pre- 
 serves his self-respect, — yet he will perhaps 
 inevitably retain an impression of it. But this 
 may have a useful effect, giving us a certain au- 
 thority which we shall sometimes need, to lend 
 more credit to our counsels. It is necessary to 
 the good order of society that the poorer classes 
 should learn to behold the more prosperous con- 
 ditions without a feeling of bitterness, and to re- 
 spect the distance which Providence has estab- 
 lished between the different ranks in society ; this 
 is absolutely necessary to the repose of those who 
 belong to the least favored conditions. When 
 he is disposed therefore to witness without bitter- 
 ness the ease in which we live, and to feel only 
 the sentiment inspired by a pure good will, let 
 him approach us more nearly. From the same 
 motives we should be careful that our condescen- 
 sion for the poor do not degenerate into familiarity, 
 by which we should lose a portion of the power 
 we exercise over them for their advantage. They 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 97 
 
 will receive more advantage from us when recog- 
 nising our superiority ; if we should descend to 
 their level, they would, perhaps, abuse our con- 
 descension. The poor on many accounts are like 
 children ; they have want of foresight, and are 
 ignorant ; they easily allow themselves to be car- 
 ried away ; they need to be supported, restrained, 
 directed ; they need more than a benefactor, they 
 need an instructer, whose character may never 
 be mistaken by them. 
 
 Let us beware, however, of lavishing exhortation 
 upon them ; and let us not abandon ourselves too 
 much to our zeal. A few words spoken at the right 
 moment, in a natural manner, will take root if they 
 are met by a favorable disposition of mind. But 
 long speeches and sermons would most frequently 
 oppose our end. He who is hungry and thirsty, 
 listens with little patience to treatises upon mo- 
 rality. Let us act first, and then reason. Besides, 
 in the poorer conditions of society, minds are 
 more struck, in general, by simple and concise 
 expressions, and are even incapable of fixing their 
 attention for a long time. Above all, we must 
 avoid exposing the sublime instructions of morality 
 to being received with disgust and lassitude. Let 
 us measure the extent of our counsels by the ca- 
 9 
 
98 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 pacities of those who are to receive them ; let us 
 avoid the pedantic forms which would chill and re- 
 pel them ; let us make plain the truths we wish to 
 inculcate, without allowing them to lose any thing 
 of the dignity which is to conciliate their respect. 
 Let the poor man always see in our severest opin- 
 ions, a testimony of the affection we bear him. 
 
 It is an art then to regulate our relations 
 with the poor. If we suppose, that with that class 
 of individuals we can give ourselves up to the 
 impressions of the moment, we are as much de- 
 ceived as if we should think it possible to act in 
 respect to them by uniform and general rules. 
 Rules vary according to the education of the 
 poor with whom we have intercourse, and as 
 their habits are more or less gross. They also 
 vary according to the age and sex. Old age 
 united to misery, deserves singular regard ; in- 
 firmity gives special titles to indulgence. 
 
 A certain experience of this kind of intercourse 
 can alone teach the manner of so conducting it in 
 all the different circumstances as to obtain either 
 the confidence of the poor, or at least the moral 
 authority which would be useful to them. But 
 the habit of communication with the poor may in 
 its turn lead to some false ways of seeing and 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 99 
 
 acting ; there are some poor so shameless and 
 degraded, that the disgust and loathing they in- 
 spire, extend to all who have the same external 
 appearance. If we have often been deceived, 
 we may also become suspicious to excess. Some- 
 times we cannot defend ourselves from the sad 
 impressions inspired by the sight of ingratitude. 
 Sometimes we are discouraged, by the failure of 
 our repeated efforts to snatch a poor man from 
 the indulgence of his fatal passions, and we too 
 easily despair of cure. We are too easily en- 
 couraged about some things ; we follow routine 
 too much in others ; we pronounce too promptly 
 from our own inferences ; we think ourselves able 
 to judge by a glance ; we cease to scrutinize with 
 the same care, confiding too much in the experi- 
 ence we have acquired. 
 
 One of the dangers which we must chiefly 
 avoid in our intercourse with the poor, is the 
 facility of allowing ourselves to be deceived by 
 favorable or unfavorable prejudices. Those who 
 devote themselves to the honorable office of 
 relieving poverty, too often conceive certain pre- 
 dilections, and equally blind aversions. The 
 tone, the air, the manners of the poor, may ex- 
 cite these capricious dispositions, of which we 
 
100 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 do not render to ourselves an account, and which 
 we should unwillingly confess to ourselves. These 
 preferences result often in real injustice ; they 
 often reward the cunning and the intriguing. Be- 
 sides, the poor man who is suffering under exter- 
 nal disadvantages, is only the more to be pitied. 
 When these preferences are perceived and felt 
 by the poor, they produce the most fatal impres- 
 sions ; they embolden the cunning ; they repulse 
 those who wish to make themselves known ; they 
 sometimes excite sad animosities among the indi- 
 gent ; they take away from the gifts of charity, 
 the character which was to make them recognised 
 as such, and blessed in their source. 
 
 The visitor of the poor must expect to reap 
 a constant mixture of pain and pleasure. He 
 will often perceive sad mistakes ; he will find 
 the poor man, whom he wished to relieve, con- 
 spire against his generous designs, convert reme- 
 dies into poisons, disconcert the wisest foresight, 
 and sometimes return benefits with ill will. He 
 will be afflicted to find souls so degraded, that noth- 
 ing can snatch them from ignominy ; so insensible 
 and unnatural, that no affection can move them. 
 We must resign ourselves to these hard experi- 
 ences, that our zeal may not be cooled. But 
 
OBTAINING THE CONFIDENCE OF THE POOR. 101 
 
 what is the recompense ? To see nature revive 
 in spring and deck itself with flowers, is a spec- 
 tacle less sweet, than to see human beings awake 
 to virtue. Is such a power granted to man ? can 
 such a resurrection be our work ? 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN OF THE POOR. 
 
 The more we study the causes of indigence, 
 the more we perceive that want of education is 
 the chief cause of poverty, as well as of crime. 
 One of the greatest services we can render the 
 poor, then, is to preserve their children from so 
 fatal an influence. A good education will enable 
 these children to support and console their par- 
 ents. Does it not belong to our mission also to 
 extend our solicitude to the whole family, and to 
 aid the parents in fulfilling one of their first du- 
 ties? 
 
 In penetrating into these unfortunate families, 
 we are sometimes confounded as well as pained, 
 to see the cruel indifference of children to their 
 parents. Unfortunate old man ! I have found 
 you alone, and abandoned upon the bed of pain, 
 where disease retained you. — Have you not a son 
 or daughter? Where are they? Your tears an- 
 swer. But if you had procured them a suitable 
 education, should you have been deserted thus ? 
 What did you do for them in their childhood ? 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 103 
 
 A good physical education, in the poorer classes 
 would have the immense advantage of preventing 
 many diseases, and giving more force and aptitude 
 for labor ; but this is a subject hardly thought 
 of, and the bringing up of children in all those 
 things which do not come under the law of ne- 
 cessity, is abandoned to chance. This neces- 
 sity, which subjects children to privations and 
 fatigue, tends to strengthen them in some respects ; 
 but negligence, bad management, and an excess of 
 privation and fatigue, tend on the other hand to 
 enfeeble their constitutions. 
 
 The children of the poor breathe, from their 
 cradles, the most unwholesome air, in the wretched 
 habitations which serve as a refuge to their parent ; 
 they suffer almost all the time from want of 
 cleanliness, from cold and dampness, and are ex- 
 posed to a thousand accidents. If the mother 
 wishes to remain with them, she must give up the 
 labor which calls her from home ; if she leaves 
 them in the care of a neighbour or alone, they 
 may burn themselves. As soon as they begin to 
 run, they perhaps wander about the streets. The 
 first education begins much sooner than is com- 
 monly supposed. Before children are of an age 
 to go to school, they receive daily impressions, and 
 
104 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 contract numerous habits, which influence their 
 dispositions and characters. The objects which 
 meet their eyes, the words they hear, the exam- 
 ples they witness, even their simple plays, are 
 a sort of education ; we are sometimes aston- 
 ished to see how the germs of vice can be devel- 
 oped so early. On the other hand, a taste for 
 order, attention, application, obedience, the senti- 
 ments of respect and gratitude, may take root 
 from the earliest years. 
 
 These considerations have suggested to benev- 
 olent persons, the design of collecting the children 
 of the poor, under seven years of age, in asylums ; 
 where they could be confided to trustworthy per- 
 sons, breathe a salubrious air, receive the neces- 
 sary care, be kept neat, be trained to useful exer- 
 cises, and gradually be initiated into those petty 
 labors which are a preparation for the instruction 
 they are afterwards to receive. 
 
 The negligence of parents is not only prolonged 
 till the time when children are old enough to go 
 to school, but after that time they often oppose 
 a systematic and serious resistance to all efforts 
 that are made in their behalf; they will even 
 refuse to accept the favor of gratuitous instruc- 
 tion. 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 105 
 
 In every thing else, privations are realized ; 
 and bring a sense of want, desire, and demand. 
 It is precisely the contrary with regard to instruc- 
 tion ; the more it is wanted, the less it is sought. 
 This is why savage nations remain stationary. 
 On the contrary, the more instruction there is, 
 the more it is thirsted for. If the poor man is 
 ignorant, and this is the condition of the greater 
 number, he will not only scarcely have the idea 
 of preparing his child to know more than himself, 
 but he will often show repugnance to allowing his 
 child this advantage. The eloquent dissertations 
 of certain fine minds against popular education, 
 oppose fewer obstacles, than the obstinacy of an 
 ignorant father, jealous of having a son who may 
 surpass him,* 
 
 * I have known, I think, more than a thousand poor 
 families ; and in not a few of these families I have found 
 a great insensibility to the importance of availing them- 
 selves of the means which they have for the education of 
 their children. But I have never known a poor and igno- 
 rant parent withhold his child from our schools, or express 
 unwillingness that he should go to them, from " a jealousy 
 that the child would thus be raised above him." Some of 
 the poor children who are seen in our streets, were brought 
 to the city by their parents at an age at which they were 
 
106 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 It belongs to the visitor of the poor to dissi- 
 pate so blind a prejudice, and to enlighten the 
 fathers of families upon their interests and their 
 
 too old for the primary, and could not read well enough 
 for admission into the grammar schools. Some are truants. 
 Some have been taken from school, that they might earn 
 what they could for the families to which they belong ; 
 and, having lost the employment obtained for them, have 
 fallen into vagrancy. And some are children of ineffi- 
 cient, and others of reckless parents, who think not of the 
 education of their children, and who leave them exposed 
 to every contaminating influence, only because they are 
 themselves too ignorant, or too obdurate, to perceive the 
 value of the good which they so lightly estimate. If any 
 visitor of the poor shall be led, by the appeals which are 
 here made to him, to the benevolent enterprise of saving 
 one or more of the poor children among us, who are 
 now on the brink of ruin, I think that he will find them to 
 belong to one or another of the above named classes ; 
 and that the difficulty with which he will have to contend, 
 in his intercourse with the parents, will not be " a jeal- 
 ousy," in any one, u that his son may surpass him ; " but, 
 either a most painful lack of parental sensibility; or, a 
 strong claim of interest in the immediate labors of which 
 children are capable ; or, inability in the parent to control 
 the child; or, the disqualification of the child for admission 
 into our schools. My apology for this statement respect- 
 ing the exposed and vicious children in our city, is, that a 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 107 
 
 duties. It will not be the work of a day ; for it 
 is difficult to persuade those who do not wish to 
 be convinced. The visitor must not be weary ; 
 he must seize every opportunity to place before 
 the eyes of the ignorant father familiar examples 
 which may make him comprehend how useful it 
 would be to his children, to know how to read, 
 write, and cipher. " Why has your neighbour's son 
 been sought for by the best workmen, and found 
 a situation so advantageous for his apprenticeship ? 
 Is it not by the assistance of the honorable certifi- 
 cate he received on leaving school ? How has 
 such a young man, whom you know, arrived so 
 quickly to the station of foreman ? Is it not be- 
 cause education had given him more capacity, 
 and because he could keep accounts ? If he had 
 had no idea of linear drawing and calculation, 
 could he have been employed in so productive a 
 manner by the architect, or the contractor, who 
 have become attached to him ? Could that man, 
 
 greatly increased interest has recently been excited in 
 the cause of their salvation ; and a just perception of the 
 causes of the condition in which we find them is impor- 
 tant in view of the measures which are to be taken for 
 their rescue. J. T. 
 
108 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 whose profession is at this moment paralyzed by- 
 general circumstances, have so promptly created 
 another resource, if he had not been benefited by 
 his education ? " One day a whole troop of little 
 wretches was condemned by the court of assize. 
 A visitor of the poor was on the jury. " Do you 
 wish to know," said he to a blinded father, " do 
 you wish to know the history of these young crimi- 
 nals ? They had been brought up precisely as you 
 bring up your son ; they had wallowed in igno- 
 rance. Come with me into the prisons ; among 
 twenty condemned youths, you will find nineteen 
 who do not know how to write or read. Behold 
 the future you are preparing for your child, the 
 reward you are preparing for yourself." At last 
 this visitor succeeds in bringing back the father to 
 more just reflections. 
 
 He leads this poor man to observe, that with 
 a little instruction he would not himself have 
 remained in so subaltern and dependent a sit- 
 uation in the work-shop, that he would more 
 easily find another kind of work when his ordi- 
 nary labor fails him ; that he would not have so 
 easily been deceived. on such an occasion, that 
 he would have guarded himself from such or such 
 bad habit, that he would have been more faithful to 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 109 
 
 his duties, that he would not have spent his mon- 
 ey in play, or his health at the grog-shop, etc. 
 " Avoid then for your child the same dangers ; 
 procure for him the resources whose loss you 
 deplore for yourself. You desire that he may be 
 your support in your old age ! but do you not feel 
 that the more you do for him, the more he will 
 feel the necessity of acquitting the debt ? Do you 
 not see that in becoming capable of instructing 
 himself, he will better learn his duties towards 
 you ? the good he will receive, will be diffused 
 over his whole family." 
 
 It is not every thing to have persuaded the 
 parents ; sometimes the children show themselves 
 rebellious ; the children are untractable, wild, 
 and uncontrollable ; the parents are effeminate, 
 indolent, and dissipated. What can be done ? 
 how can they be forced to go to school ? they 
 will escape on the way ; shall they be carried in 
 chains ? who will take the pains to carry them 
 there ? Our visitor is not disconcerted. One 
 day he takes the children by the hand, and does 
 not disdain to lead them himself; he introduces 
 them into a clean and well arranged hall ; there 
 they find other happy children who seem to divert 
 themselves as they work; they wish to be in the 
 10 
 
110 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 play, and are ashamed not to know how to do it 
 so well. Our visitor lets them see that they also 
 might be happy, then gives them hope, and at 
 last ends by procuring them this favor. The 
 little scholars are carried on by the example of 
 their comrades ; they insensibly acquire a taste 
 for labor ; emulation takes possession of them. 
 This supposes, it is true, that a good school has 
 been found, directed by a capable master; but it 
 is one of the cares of the friend of the poor to 
 choose the best school, if there is a choice to 
 make. He will not stop there ; he will recom- 
 mend the new pupil to his master's care, and will 
 promise to come sometimes to take note of the 
 progress he shall have made. 
 
 We may find in another poor family more solid 
 and sound ideas ; but the parents still have their 
 objections. " The children are already old enough 
 to render some little services, and will soon be 
 able to enter upon apprenticeship ; the necessities 
 of the family must be thought of, and the succour 
 that has been received must not be abused. What 
 is the use of sending them to school ? they will 
 not have time to profit by it. By leaving them 
 there many years, the embarrassment would be 
 prolonged." Yet if their friend finds the means of 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. Ill 
 
 procuring a kind of instruction, whose simplicity 
 reconciles every thing, if he only asks two or three 
 years for the child to learn to read, write, cipher, 
 and even to become acquainted with linear draw- 
 ing, and understand weights and measures, be- 
 sides learning the catechism perfectly, will not 
 all the objections be done away with ? But can 
 any establishment be found which -will fulfill these 
 conditions ? It does not belong to me to say ; 
 but I suppose this friend, who wishes the good 
 of his proteges, will examine without prejudice, 
 will seek, observe ; and I depend upon his wisdom. 
 In all cases, this is the moment to reward the 
 parents for their deference to our counsels. If 
 they deprive themselves of their children, it is 
 just to indemnify them for the sacrifice, by add- 
 ing a little to the charity and assistance they 
 already receive. As for the rest, they will soon 
 perceive that they have not made a bad calcula- 
 tion. 
 
 The- child is admitted to his lessons. Should 
 we depend entirely upon the fathers and mothers 
 for his improvement ? Generally, in giving as- 
 sistance (and by this we do not merely mean 
 alms) which is destined for children, if it is neces- 
 sary not only to avoid breaking the ties of 
 
112 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 family, but on the contrary, to strengthen them ; 
 if, consequently, we must avoid, as much as possi- 
 ble, usurping the rights of fathers and mothers, 
 and leaving them strangers to the good which is 
 done to their children, yet constant experience 
 teaches us that we must not blindly give up to the 
 parents ; their want of foresight, alas ! even their 
 selfishness, is to be feared. How many do we see 
 who intercept what is given them for these little 
 creatures? The thing is painful to be told, but it 
 is unfortunately true. Such is the fatal effect of 
 excessive misery ; sometimes it brutalizes and 
 renders them insensible, and shuts their hearts to 
 the first affections. Nothing equals the indiffe- 
 rence of certain poor people to the moral govern- 
 ment of their children, and if, as is only too com- 
 mon, their poverty has been the consequence of 
 bad conduct, if this bad conduct is not yet entire- 
 ly corrected by misery ; will not the unfortunate 
 child, exposed to such examples, and in such 
 society, lose the good fruits of the instructions of 
 his master ? Without usurping, then, the rights 
 of fathers and mothers, we will supply their want 
 of vigilance ; we will often go to visit the poor 
 little pupils at school ; when they return to the 
 paternal roof, we will go too ; we will ask them, 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 113 
 
 in the presence of their parents, what they have 
 learnt, and what has been their conduct; we 
 will give them some little encouragement, some 
 rewards perhaps, but the choice of rewards 
 and punishments is very important in childhood. 
 It requires much discernment, and what can we 
 expect from rude and ignorant parents in this 
 respect ? They will punish their children with 
 brutality, in caprice and ill humor. We will 
 gently interpose to overcome this evil influence. 
 Let us make these little beings hear the language 
 of reason, by putting it within their reach ; let the 
 language we hold to them be indirectly addressed 
 to the parents. When they witness the improve- 
 ment of their children and the interest they in- 
 spire, will they not be tempted to imitate them ? 
 will not the sentiments of nature begin to revive ? 
 How often have we seen virtuous children, who 
 have become such by good education, exercising 
 over those from whom they received life, this sal- 
 utary influence ; and thus reversing the order of 
 good examples, producing a reform which had 
 been vainly attempted by the most eloquent 
 preaching ? 
 
 Poor children ! When you return home after 
 having tasted some hours of innocent happiness 
 10* 
 
114 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 among your comrades, and in the activity of oc- 
 cupation ; when you return bearing a testimony 
 of the satisfaction of your masters, if you see the 
 friend and protector of your family coming, with 
 what joy you will run to show him the certificate 
 which declares your progress, or the scale of your 
 lessons. He smiles upon you, and this smile 
 is your reward. You like to relate to him all you 
 do, and he listens to you with benevolence. He 
 will continue to be your support and guide ; he 
 will interest himself to find and choose a situation 
 for you ; his children will continue the work he 
 has begun ; he is Providence made visible to you, 
 and his beneficent influence will embrace the 
 whole course of your life. 
 
 What is to be done for this young man, and this 
 young woman, who have already passed the age 
 at which they can be sent to shcool, and whose 
 education has been entirely neglected ? " It is too 
 late ; they must work ; and we cannot subject 
 them to the mortification of putting them upon the 
 benches with little children.'' However, if they 
 knew how to read, write, and cipher, what new re- 
 sources would be opened to them to assist their 
 aged parents and themselves ! There is for these 
 an unexpected resource. Their friend finds a 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 115 
 
 school for adults, which is kept during the winter 
 evenings ; or a sunday school, where they refresh 
 themselves after the labor of the week by an oc- 
 cupation of a new kind, and one which has to them 
 all the attraction of novelty. They make profi- 
 table use of the moments which might perhaps 
 have been dissipated in idleness or badly employ- 
 ed ; good moral habits are thus preserved, while 
 they acquire useful knowledge ; even good man- 
 ners are gained, and acquaintance is made with 
 estimable companions. Blessings never come 
 single.* 
 
 * We have. known poor workmen, after having passed 
 some months in a school for adults, promoted to the rank of 
 overseer with a double salary, because they were able to 
 draw up the register of the work. There is hardly any 
 profession in which the workman who knows how to read, 
 write, and cipher, docs not advance more rapidly for it. 
 In all the mechanical arts, the elements of drawing- will 
 also be of peculiar advantage to him. Indeed the in- 
 struction he acquires by reading, gives him, by devel- 
 oping his intellect, more capacity to comprehend, conduct, 
 and execute all the operations of industry. There are 
 many schools of this kind in Paris for men, and one for 
 women, which produce the most satisfactory results. They 
 were first suggested by a report from M. le due Mathieu 
 de Montmorency, sent to the Society for elementary in- 
 struction. 
 
116 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 But where are these schools for adults and 
 these Sunday schools ? If there is not one within 
 reach, the visitor of the poor, who has daily felt 
 the want of one, may suggest the idea of it and 
 unite with other good people to establish one. 
 
 The cares which the friend of the poor bestows 
 upon the poor family do not stop here ; there are 
 two other kinds of service in which he may take 
 a still more direct part, and which are not less 
 essential. 
 
 The first concerns apprenticeship. Here, as 
 in so many other things, poverty opposes obsta- 
 cles to the remedies which would come in aid 
 of it. That skill in labor which is to procure a 
 future subsistence for children, and become per- 
 haps a resource for the whole family, is only to 
 be acquired by money. The trades which are 
 learnt at the least expense, are also the least 
 lucrative. There are many things to be taken into 
 consideration also in the choice of a trade. Let us 
 consult, first of all, the physical and intellectual 
 capacity of the youth. It is hardly credible how 
 much dispositions vary in this respect, and how 
 much this variety influences the success which 
 each individual obtains in his profession. 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 117 
 
 Often he who is unfit for one career, might 
 succeed perfectly in another ; one is skilful, anoth- 
 er is strong ; one is fit for sedentary labors, anoth- 
 er for motion and external activity. Let us con- 
 sult the inclinations also, for people do better 
 what they like to do, and thus do more. There are 
 trades more or less healthy, and their dangers are 
 more or less felt, according to the temperament of 
 those who follow them. It is doubtless necessary 
 to examine what trades are the most productive ; 
 but it is important to examine, at the same time, 
 whether these trades are not subject to vicissi- 
 tudes, and if in some circumstances they are 
 not suddenly stopped. Besides, there are occu- 
 pations which may expose to dangers of another 
 sort, and which are pernicious to good morals. 
 This consideration applies particularly to occu- 
 pations for girls. It is only after taking all these 
 views, that the choice should be made. But will 
 the father and mother of a family give the sub- 
 ject all the attention it deserves ? Will they, 
 besides, be capable of comparing and judging 
 well? Will not the occasion decide for them? 
 This is a kind of counsel which it belongs to the 
 visitor of the poor to give, and which will at least 
 be received without suspicion. But, after the 
 
118 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 first choice, that of the trade, there remains a 
 second to be made, that of the master, and this 
 last is not less delicate or less essential ; for upon 
 this depends the skill of the apprentice and the 
 morality of his character ? Place him only where 
 he will receive good examples. Information 
 concerning the comrades with whom he will be 
 connected should also be sought. Here again 
 the poor will find themselves embarrassed. They 
 have not sufficiently extensive intercourse, and 
 enough sagacity, to direct themselves in this de- 
 termination. The visitor will have ideas upon 
 the subject by which the poor can profit ; he 
 will besides have an opportunity of procuring 
 information, and he has a thousand ways of getting 
 at the facts. Good masters are naturally very 
 difficult in the choice of apprentices ; the visitor 
 of the poor will interpose to obtain for his young 
 protege the favor of being received into an hon- 
 est family, by a skilful master, and will obtain 
 for him a favorable reception. Perhaps he will 
 place the apprentice with a workman who labors 
 habitually for himself, and in this way he will 
 still be able to have his eyes upon the appren- 
 tice. The contract of the apprenticeship is to 
 be drawn up. Here the father, ignorant or nar- 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 119 
 
 row-minded, may cause difficulties ; or neccessity 
 may constrain him to accept too hard conditions. 
 We must come to his assistance, and enlighten 
 him concerning the inconveniences which may 
 one day spring up from engagements that are 
 ill arranged. Sometimes we must procure him 
 the means of furnishing some portion of the ex- 
 pense required for the subsistence, maintenance, 
 and instruction of the apprentice; and thus ren- 
 der accessible occupations which might have 
 been shut out from him ; at other times, we shall 
 abridge the duration of gratuitous labor due to 
 his master as an indemnity, when his instruction is 
 ended. For there are two ways of stipulating a 
 contract of apprenticeship ; sometimes the ap- 
 prentice receives, gratuitously from his master, 
 instruction, lodging, nourishment, &c. but on the 
 condition of afterwards giving some years of his 
 labor without wages ; sometimes the master is 
 to receive an annual sum, or a sum propor- 
 tioned to the expense incurred for the appren- 
 tice, and then the duration of the time is abridg- 
 ed, during which he is to receive no wages. Six 
 or seven years is the longest term which is stip- 
 ulated for in the former case, before the appren- 
 tice begins to earn something ; two hundred franks 
 
120 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 a year is the ordinary salary in the other case. 
 There are several essential provisions, which the 
 vigilant friend will have inserted in the contract ; 
 the master must engage to treat the child well, 
 to make him do his duty, to let him sleep 
 alone, not to teach him any other trade than the 
 one agreed upon, not to employ him in other 
 occupations which would divert him from it ; the 
 privilege of habitual watchfulness should be al- 
 lowed to the parents, and even to their friendly 
 visitor, and consequently the power of seeing the 
 child whenever they desire it ; a provision must 
 be made for the contract to be annulled in cer- 
 tain circumstances ; the parents should be author- 
 ized to withdraw their child, not only if the con- 
 ditions are not fulfilled, but if the health of the child 
 should be impaired, if he should not succeed as 
 well as has been expected in the trade chosen 
 for him, if his morals are exposed to any danger, 
 if the character of the master is not suitable to the 
 particular case ; and the conditions on which this 
 dissolution should take place, should be agreed 
 upon beforehand. 
 
 Here we ought to point out to the solicitude of 
 the visitor of the poor a serious danger. 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 121 
 
 The developement of industry in certain coun- 
 tries has produced a great demand even for very- 
 young children who are employed in manual labor 
 that requires neither much vigor, nor much in- 
 telligence ; but the avarice of certain manufac- 
 turers abuses the strength of these little creatures ; 
 they are exhausted by fatigue ; they neither leave 
 them time for school, nor for rest ; hardly enough 
 to eat a hasty morsel, or to take hurried sleep. 
 These little creatures languish with exhaustion ; 
 and their health suffers as much as their characters 
 and education. Yet the pressing wants of some pa- 
 rents, the cupidity of others, and the w r ant of fore- 
 sight in many, deliver up these young creatures to 
 this fatal regimen. This abuse has been carried so 
 far in England, that an express law was required for 
 its suppression ; a bill was passed a year ago to 
 regulate the maximum of the task which should be 
 imposed upon children in manufactories. In 
 France, though some workshops have presented 
 so sad a spectacle, we hope the legislative author- 
 ity will not be necessary to restrain it, and that 
 the power of manners and the authority of public 
 opinion will be sufficient to arrest the evil in its 
 birth. However, the friend who watches over the 
 family of the poor, will watch over the child who is 
 11 
 
122 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 employed in a manufactory, that he may not be 
 exposed to become the victim of excessive fa- 
 tigue. 
 
 The capacity and skill of a child must not be 
 measured by the money he earns. In certain 
 places a child can earn from two to three francs a 
 day by picking up bones for the fabrication of 
 animal carbon ; but what will he have learnt ? 
 It is often the most false speculation, as to the real 
 interest of a family, to be too hasty in obtaining 
 profit from the labor of these little creatures ; in 
 that, as in many other things, it is sacrificing the 
 future to the present. 
 
 What regret should we feel, if this education 
 we give to the children of the poor should one day 
 prove a fatal present to them ; if on visiting their 
 abodes we should find bad books in their hands ! 
 It may at least happen that the education will be 
 useless to them ; to know how to read is but to 
 possess an instrument. We have not yet finished 
 our work then, and now comes the greatest service 
 we are called upon to render ; a service which will 
 crown all the others, and which the indigent parent 
 is least capable of performing. We must procure 
 for these children profitable and suitable reading. 
 They have very little time to read, it is true ; this 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 123 
 
 is one reason more why they should read nothing 
 but what is good, and that the aliment which 
 is offered them should be substantial and solid. 
 Moral and religious reading will occupy the first 
 place ; but we advise that this serious reading be 
 sometimes tempered by interesting and agreeable 
 treatises, rendered familiar and easy to be under- 
 stood, that they may become a recreation at the 
 same time that they are a means of improvement. 
 We may also add to these some little elementary 
 books in which those readers, who belong to the 
 laboring classes, may find some descriptions of 
 creation, some simple and easy information con- 
 cerning the phenomena of nature, and the history 
 of their country ; some counsels which may guide 
 them in the direction of their little affairs, in the 
 precautions demanded by health, in the succours 
 and remedies for the most common accidents. 
 Such works, though they ought to be the most 
 common, are not abundant. The poor hardly 
 know of their existence, and cannot select them ; 
 if such works are indeed too rare, it is partly 
 because means are wanting to diffuse them among 
 the poorer classes. The visitor of the poor must 
 be as it were a channel through which useful com- 
 munications are formed between the enlightened 
 
124 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 classes and those which are not so ; he will assist 
 in imparting to them the kind and degree of 
 knowledge their situation claims. By his means 
 therefore the education of the poor man's child, 
 though necessarily limited, may become productive 
 of good effects, which will last through his life. He 
 will thus not only have assisted those who are now 
 indigent, but he will have arrested in their 
 source causes which might multiply their number. 
 How do we know that among those who enjoy 
 the benefits of this education there may not be 
 one, who, endowed with remarkable qualities, may, 
 from having the opportunity to develope and 
 cultivate them, and to embrace the career for 
 which they fit him, make for himself a path to 
 unexpected success, and rise to an honorable 
 station in society. There are examples of this, 
 and there might be more if every one could 
 follow, in the choice of an occupation, his natural 
 disposition, and receive all the assistance which 
 may render him capable of performing it well. But 
 these extraordinary phenomena are not neces- 
 sary to reward the generous friend of the indi- 
 gent family ; it is sufficient that each member of 
 these families fulfills well, in the humble sphere 
 which is assigned to him, the part to which Prov- 
 
EDUCATION OF THE CHILDREN. 125 
 
 idence calls him, and comports himself as an 
 honest and a useful man. This is what the true 
 interest of the family and the general order of 
 society demands ; the end is attained. 
 
 11* 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 When I see a beggar, a sentiment of compas- 
 sion seizes me. But a painful doubt arises in 
 my heart. Is the image that meets my sight 
 a reality, or an artifice ? # The question is a se- 
 rious one. 
 
 There is not a moral contrast in the world 
 more marked, than that which exists between 
 the pretended poor who beg from calculation, 
 and the truly indigent who are reduced to beg- 
 ging. The first class deserves our indignation ; 
 the second has a right to our benevolence and 
 even to our respect. 
 
 One class is the refuse of society. Idleness, 
 debauchery, falsehood, cunning, effrontery, and 
 all the vices are personified in it. Nothing but 
 courage is wanting, perhaps, to make those who 
 
 * The number of beggars in Europe is computed at 
 17 millions. The population is 178 millions ; we suppose 
 that this proportion is 3 to 100 in Denmark, 14 to 100 in 
 Holland, 16 to 100 in England. 
 
BEGGING. 127 
 
 compose it become great criminals. Human na- 
 ture suffers in them the deepest degradation. 
 Perhaps the children you see with the beggar 
 are not his own ! Perhaps he has stolen 
 them, and lets them languish in hunger, that the 
 sight of them may melt your heart ! The mala- 
 dy of beggary is almost incurable ; for when de- 
 basement has become a habit, and even a pleas- 
 ure, it is difficult to rise from it. But there are 
 real sufferers, sinking under the weight of misfor- 
 tune, who, having exhausted all resources, are 
 abandoned, without relations, friends, or protec- 
 tors, and have been constrained by despair to 
 have recourse to public pity. Judicious aid may 
 save these. If they contract the habit of beg- 
 ging, they will fall into vices and disorders to 
 which they have hitherto not yielded. What is 
 to be done in this uncertainty ? The beggar is 
 absolutely unknown to me. In giving him any- 
 thing, I run the risk of rewarding and encouraging 
 turpitude. In refusing him, I run the risk of being 
 barbarous towards one of my brethren, who has 
 every title to my affection. This is what each 
 one of us feels and says to himself, every time he 
 meets a beggar, without being able to find a solu- 
 tion of the difficulty. It is one of the serious 
 
128 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 evils of beggary, that it causes such cruel embar- 
 rassment to honest people ; for whatever they may 
 do, they are, in spite of themselves, exposed to 
 do harm, and to go directly against their own 
 intentions. Taking advantage of this uncertainty, 
 those who are out of work, those who lead a bad 
 life, and the entirely idle, come and deceive the 
 benevolence of the generous. By this uncertainty, 
 those who are worthy of moving our compassion, 
 are threatened with our disdain, and our most 
 unjust prejudices. Public pity is also led astray, 
 or becomes cooled. And the selfish find a spe- 
 cious pretext for justifying their refusal. Indus- 
 try loses its arms, misfortune its resources. The 
 crafty alone profit by it. 
 
 Yet shall we hazard nothing to relieve ourselves 
 from this perplexity ? Instead of giving alms to 
 this beggar, instead of refusing him, let us ask his 
 name and address. — "What, shall I put this 
 question to all the beggars I meet in my way ? 
 Am I going to draw up their statistics ? For the 
 employment of a penny, which is the object of 
 my hesitation, shall I lose hours in researches for 
 information ? " Perhaps you will not lose them ; 
 try it once ; perhaps you will obtain precious 
 light ; perhaps you will be called upon to render 
 
BEGGING. 129 
 
 a great service. But I agree that my advice is 
 difficult to act upon habitually ; I only wish to 
 show the fundamental truth which is to preside 
 over this difficult matter ; it is this, that a good 
 system for visiting the poor at home, is the sure 
 means, and the only sure means, of preventing 
 the uncertainty which we have just expressed, 
 and all the evil consequences it brings. 
 
 Suppose then that I have taken the name and 
 address of the beggar. If he has given me a 
 faithful direction, I shall soon be enlightened. 
 If he has directed me wrong, it is an almost cer- 
 tain proof that he is unworthy. If the police 
 should point out to me any of the taverns where 
 this sort of people meet, perhaps I should find 
 there the pretended sick man, (who had appeared 
 to me emaciated with suffering,) in very good health, 
 participating in some carousal with his fellows. 
 This indeed is what happens every day. The 
 trade of begging is often very lucrative in Paris, 
 as I am assured by persons who are well inform- 
 ed. It is worth from nine to ten franks per day. 
 
 Some magistrates, in order to deliver the pub- 
 lic from uncertainty, have thought of reserving the 
 permission to beg to certain poor people, well 
 known by them as such ? and bearing a dis- 
 
130 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 tinctive sign. But this measure, while prevent- 
 ing one evil, would preserve many others ; it also 
 would leave room for injustice ; for alms, blindly 
 distributed, cannot be in proportion to the real 
 wants. 
 
 There are sometimes beggars of high preten- 
 sions, beggars who might be called good com- 
 pany ; who present themselves in houses with a 
 decent appearance, with the air and manner of 
 respectable condition. These have experienced 
 great disasters ; they need proportionate assis- 
 tance ; they know you, but you do not know them. 
 During the few last years, these greatly multipli- 
 ed in Paris, taking advantage of circumstances. 
 Some were emigrants, who returned in the train 
 of our princes, and had sacrificed every thing for 
 the good cause. Others had been in office under 
 the former government, and had lost their places. 
 They were furnished with a multitude of papers ; 
 there was no end to their history. In reality they 
 were most frequently sharpers. How could one 
 politely get rid of a person, who introduced him- 
 self thus into one's closet ? How express to him 
 injurious doubts ? Yet you cannot refuse him 
 a donation without accusing him of lying to you. 
 Take his address then. It will be refused per- 
 
BEGGING. 131 
 
 haps under various pretexts. Then be sure that 
 he is deceiving you, and become severe. Per- 
 haps in giving you his address, he will represent 
 to you that he cannot wait for your assistance an 
 hour, an instant ; that he is fasting, that the thing 
 is urgent. Then be so much the more upon your 
 guard. Hasten, if necessary, an hour afterwards, 
 to the place assigned ; it is a hundred to one that 
 the person is unknown there. It may be oth- 
 erwise ; but we often see that your question alone 
 has disconcerted the suppliant, and made him 
 take flight. 
 
 The most deplorable effects of beggary would 
 disappear, if we could succeed in making with 
 certainty, among those who ask, the distinction 
 and separation between those who tell the truth 
 and those who deceive. But visiting the poor 
 at their houses is the essential means of the only 
 practicable system for the repression of beggary. 
 
 There is perhaps no subject relative to public 
 administration which has given birth to so many 
 writings and projects, as the extinction and re- 
 pression of beggary. Men of superior merit have 
 treated this question thoroughly, and yet, in the 
 different countries of Europe, this branch of ad- 
 ministration is still very defective. Far from us 
 
132 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 be the wish to reproduce here, and to discuss, 
 what has been said upon the subject ; I shall con- 
 fine myself to two reflections which are closely 
 allied to the considerations contained in this work. 
 The first is, that in vain shall we attempt to re- 
 press beggary, if we do not, first of all, provide 
 suitable institutions where the poor may find work, 
 if they are yet able to work, or aid, if unable ; 
 and secondly, that the repression of beggary will 
 become very easy, if this double object can be 
 successfully provided for. In short, we can neith- 
 er prevent nor extinguish beggary, unless, by the 
 active and regular investigation of the situation of 
 the poor, we go back to the causes of beggary, 
 and determine exactly, by these means, the real 
 wants which it is the object to satisfy. 
 
 Yet for the most part it has been thought de- 
 sirable to begin just where we ought to end. 
 Rarely, have the regulations made against beggary 
 been preceded, as they ought to have been, by a 
 good regimen of visiting and succouring the poor in 
 their own homes. Nothing shows more clearly the 
 truths laid down here, than the experience derived 
 from the attempts already made upon this subject. 
 
 There were formerly in France many alms- 
 houses ; there were also at the same time many 
 
BEGGING. 133 
 
 beggars. In these houses, vagabonds, or those 
 who were deemed such, were shut up at discre- 
 tion. But seizures could only be made with 
 precaution and secrecy ; the beggars were pro- 
 tected by public pity ; and how could it be other- 
 wise ? Public pity cannot make discriminations ; 
 it believes in the reality of the miseries of which 
 it sees the outward signs. The people every 
 where take an interest in beggars, and embrace 
 their cause against the measures of government, 
 because they are especially struck by appearances. 
 Under the imperial government a vast plan was 
 put in execution. At a great expense, an alms- 
 house was erected in every department ; nothing 
 was wanting in them ; extensive edifices, local 
 arrangements, annual donations, and internal regu- 
 lations. But it had been forgotten to make the 
 previous discrimination in order to provide for the 
 wants of real indigence. And the alms-houses 
 suffered from the same uncertainty which strikes 
 the spectator at sight of the beggar, and which 
 we described a moment ago. No one knew 
 whether they were houses of charity or houses of 
 correction. They were at first both at once. 
 But, as a house of correction, why shut up in it 
 the poor man who could have been more suitably 
 12 
 
134 VISITOR OF THE POOR, 
 
 assisted in the bosom of his family ? As houses 
 of charity, they offered a much too easy exis* 
 tence to vagabonds. The provision in some of 
 these houses was so agreeable and so abundant, 
 that admission to them was solicited as a favor ; 
 in other words they became a premium to idle- 
 ness. It was perceived, however, on trial, that 
 the people who were to be relieved, and those 
 who were to be corrected, were united together 
 under the same mode of treatment ; that hence, 
 either the former were unjustly condemned, or the 
 latter unjustly rewarded. Two and sometimes 
 three separate departments were thus formed in 
 every alms-house, without any intercommunication, 
 to be regulated and governed in a totally different 
 manner. Thus was confessed the error committed 
 in the beginning. But few years passed, before 
 the general councils of the departments, tired with 
 the enormous expense, and struck by seeing that 
 these establishments did not fulfill their destination, 
 suppressed them. "They committed a second 
 fault in doing this. It would have been better 
 to find out why these alms-houses did not ful- 
 fill their end ? They would have perceived that 
 the fault was not in the alms-houses themselves ; 
 that the cause was in the imperfection of the 
 
BEGGING. 135 
 
 general system of humane establishments. They 
 would thus have been led to do great good, by 
 preserving what existed, and by rendering it useful. 
 Some departments, however, have had the spirit 
 to maintain the alms-houses, which they had 
 founded with so much expense. May they truly 
 comprehend the means of drawing the greatest 
 advantage from them ! 
 
 What is, in fact, intended to be realized in an 
 alms-house ? Is it a work-house for the steady, 
 laborious poor, who really are in want of work ? 
 Then conceive it in that spirit ; and above all, let 
 it offer only an absolutely indispensable resource ; 
 let it be opened only to those who cannot be 
 relieved by private industry ; let it not interfere 
 with the progress of this industry. Is it wished, 
 on the contrary, to make a house of correction 
 for the idle ? Then let it be wholly directed by a 
 severe intention of reform ; and let only those be 
 carried to it to whom this discipline is necessary. 
 Is it a sort of refuge for the old and infirm ? Ex- 
 amine then whether the hospitals are not sufficient, 
 or if it would not be better to succour these un- 
 fortunate persons in their families ; and if you then 
 think you ought to persist, agree with yourselves 
 and the public to found a supplementary hospital, 
 
136 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 But in either case, as a preliminary condition, 
 establish a good organization of means for studying 
 the situation of the poor ; and for effecting, by the 
 aid of an enlightened examination, the necessary 
 distinction between the different classes. At Pa- 
 ris, where the administration of Secours a domi- 
 cile* has received such a perfect organization, 
 there is hardly an indigent person to be met with 
 among those admitted to the charity offices, who 
 dares to beg, and we see no beggars present them- 
 selves at the charity offices to be inscribed and 
 assisted. Beggars compose a separate class, and 
 draw too much profit from the trade they exercise 
 not to disdain the feeble assistance which would 
 be granted them at the charity offices, and espe- 
 cially not to avoid subjecting themselves to the 
 investigations which would be the condition of 
 their receiving it. 
 
 There was formed in London, in 1818, an 
 association worthy of the greatest praise. It 
 
 * This institution of charity is the one in which the 
 author seems most interested personally. We have omit- 
 ted, however, in this translation all account of the particu- 
 lar institutions of France for charity. The difference of 
 the political institutions, in that country and in this, would 
 not allow them to be models for us. Translator, 
 
BEGGING. 137 
 
 causes certain cards to be distributed to the beg- 
 gars in the streets, by which these beggars can 
 present themselves at different houses. There 
 they are immediately furnished with nourishment ; 
 their demands are registered ; a personal inquiry 
 into their true situation is then prosecuted. If 
 they are found to be only unfortunate, every thing 
 is done to relieve them ; in the contrary case they 
 are sent to prison ; for the society has its consta- 
 bles, which it employs to this effect. 
 
 Half measures for repressing beggary have the 
 most deplorable effects. Sometimes an effeminate 
 and timid administration, after having taken meas- 
 ures to repress beggary, confines itself to seizing, 
 from time to time, the beggars it surprises in the 
 public road, and the next day leaves in peace 
 those who replace them. What results from this ? 
 They only prevent competition in following the 
 trade; — the trade hence becomes more lucra- 
 tive, and consequently more attractive. The se- 
 verity which is used towards some, the indulgence 
 granted to others, forms a contrast which shocks 
 the public, and the whole administration is accused 
 of negligence and injustice. 
 12* 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 
 
 When we have truly ascertained the condition 
 of a poor man, his disposition, character, and the 
 nature and extent of his wants ; we must next 
 determine what is the kind of charity and assis- 
 tance he needs. 
 
 There are certain fundamental rules, which 
 cannot be too familiar to the mind of a visitor of 
 the poor ; and it is much to be regretted, that 
 through a disregard of them, either from negli- 
 gence, or inexperience, or want of reflection, or 
 a blind zeal, evil is done instead of good, by those 
 very individuals who have the most benevolent 
 interest in the poor. 
 
 It is best as far as possible, 
 
 First. To give the necessary articles, instead 
 of their value in money. 
 
 Secondly. To give what is immediately neces- 
 sary. 
 
 Thirdly. To give what is the least susceptible 
 of abuse. 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 139 
 
 Fourthly. Not to give stores for the future, 
 but small quantities, in proportion to the consump- 
 tion. 
 
 Fifthly. To give assistance both in quantity 
 and in quality inferior to what might be procured 
 by labor ; so that the poor may be in a less favor- 
 able condition, even when assisted, than if they 
 had supplied their own wants. And 
 
 Sixthly. To give assistance at the right mo- 
 ment ; and not to prolong it beyond the duration 
 of the necessity which calls for it ; but to extend, 
 restrict, and modify it with that necessity. 
 
 Serious errors have been committed in theoret- 
 ical speculations upon the art of distributing char- 
 ity, because the authors of these speculations had 
 no opportunities of studying for themselves the 
 condition of the poor. 
 
 It has been supposed that excess of population, 
 want of labor, or deficiency of provisions are the 
 general and common causes of poverty. Doubt- 
 less, when circumstances, in any country, paralyze 
 one or more branches of industry which em- 
 ployed many hands, there is formed a class of 
 poor people, composed of all those who can no 
 longer be employed in this kind of business, and 
 who have not yet been able to succeed in finding 
 
140 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 occupation in any other manner. Also when a 
 famine afflicts a country, the rise of the prices of 
 food exposes the laborer, whose wages are not 
 increased, to the horrors of want. But these are 
 transient crises, extraordinary cases, and the pov- 
 erty which results from them is as transient as its 
 cause. 
 
 But because famine and the cessation of labor 
 engender new classes of poor, it must not be con- 
 cluded that such poverty as is produced in the 
 ordinary state of our society, is the consequence 
 of these two causes. This is derived, on the con- 
 trary, from a concentration of constant, habitual, 
 and ordinary causes, the action of which is inevi- 
 table, even in communities where labor is in the 
 greatest demand, and where subsistence is most 
 abundant. 
 
 In those countries of Europe where the means 
 of subsistence are most abundant, and where the 
 people live cheapest, in the south of Italy for in- 
 stance, there is the greatest number of poor peo- 
 ple. On the contrary, in those where, as in Swe- 
 den, the means of subsistence are most rare and 
 most dear, there is the smallest number of poor. 
 It even sometimes happens that the extreme 
 abundance of provisions may increase the num- 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 141 
 
 ber of poor ; for the proprietor and farmer, from 
 not being able to sell their harvests, find them- 
 selves obliged to reduce their prices so much, as 
 to diminish the demand for labor. 
 
 It was by committing this fundamental error 
 that Malthus, in his " Treatise upon Population," 
 in many respects so new and so profound, but 
 sometimes so paradoxical, has, in his criticisms 
 upon the course pursued in modern societies for 
 the relief of the poor, been carried away by the 
 very rigor of his logical deductions, to consequen- 
 ces which, revolting to the feelings of humanity, 
 might have warned him, by that fact alone, to 
 suspect that he had made some capital mistake, 
 in the principles from which he set out. 
 
 Those extraordinary calamities which some- 
 times fall on a country, and instantaneously de- 
 prive a great number of workmen of their accus- 
 tomed means of labor, or occasion a scarcity of the 
 means of subsistence, or raise the price of food, 
 thus exposing the poorest class to the horrors of 
 famine, demand extraordinary remedies, through 
 the cooperation of the public administration. 
 
 But great care should be taken in the choice 
 of these remedies, or the evil may be aggravated. 
 It is only those branches of industry which have 
 
142 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 for their object some article of fashion or luxury 
 which can be suddenly suspended, unless it be 
 a branch which has relation to some article whose 
 exportation is interrupted by a war or some other 
 circumstance. It is not easy for a branch of labor 
 to be paralyzed which provides the necessary 
 articles of common consumption. Now when 
 there is a great number of unoccupied workmen, 
 the small price which they obtain for their 
 labor, suggests some new kind of employment 
 which would not otherwise have been thought of. 
 Thus new branches of industry are developed, 
 to take the place of those that are paralyzed. 
 
 As to articles of food, it is now well known 
 that there is hardly ever any real famine. Hardly 
 do the greatest famines suppose a deficiency equal 
 to the quantity of food necessary to feed the coun- 
 try during ten days in the year ; and it is suffi- 
 cient that each family should diminish its daily 
 consumption by one thirty-sixth of the usual quan- 
 tity, and the equilibrium is restored. Now sure- 
 ly, nothing is more easy than this, and without 
 sensibly diminishing strength or even enjoyment. 
 This reduction might be effected merely by avoid- 
 ing the loss which results from waste. But, sup- 
 posing that each individual should every day 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 143 
 
 diminish, by one thirty-sixth, the quantity of food 
 he ordinarily consumes ; this reduction would not 
 be perceived. Far from its being prejudicial to 
 strength and health, it would be useful to both, 
 even if it were four or five times more considera- 
 ble ; for it is acknowledged that we eat much 
 more than is really necessary, and that greater 
 frugality would be in all classes a salutary regi- 
 men. Besides, a famine scarcely ever affects but 
 one kind of provisions ; it is generally bread, and 
 the total quantity of subsistence is not diminish- 
 ed in proportion. Persons in low circumstances 
 reduce their consumption of rarer and dearer 
 food, and content themselves with a coarser kind. 
 The raising of the prices of provisions also natu- 
 rally leads each one to effect this insensible re- 
 duction, and to take more careful measures to 
 be economical. In short, the production of oth- 
 er kinds of provisions is excited by the greater 
 demand. There certainly remain many more 
 kinds of food even in great famines, than would 
 be necessary to support all the population, if 
 by a good distribution it were possible to give to 
 each one his just portion. The privations which 
 actually overwhelm the multitude, proceed from 
 the alarms which paralyze circulation, and leave 
 
144 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 the markets empty ; and from that excess of pre- 
 caution, which raises the price of provisions un- 
 reasonably, and puts them out of the reach of 
 the less fortunate classes. Thus is spread that 
 false notion, too lightly conceived, presented, and 
 propagated, concerning a supposed deficiency of 
 food; which has frequently threatened and tor- 
 mented our modern societies, and which idea has 
 been of itself one of the chief causes of poverty. 
 
 But let us return to the ordinary causes of pov- 
 erty. 
 
 The first is old age, and this goes on increas- 
 ing from day to day. Next are incurable in- 
 firmities ; the loss of one or more limbs, and 
 blindness. Among the incurable infirmities may 
 sometimes be placed mental alienation ; and al- 
 ways, imbecility. But a part of these causes, 
 however extensive and inevitable may be the 
 action of them, still permit some labor ; limited 
 it is true, and only to be executed at home, but 
 demanding neither much strength, nor perfectly 
 sound organs . 
 
 Among temporary causes of poverty, sickness 
 and wounds may be placed in the first rank. If 
 the poor person is alone, the necessities result- 
 ing from such a situation are absolute. They 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 145 
 
 are greater when this misfortune befalls the 
 head of a family ; they are felt more if one or 
 more of his limbs are affected. 
 
 Lying-in women enter into this first class. 
 
 There are certain infirmities, which, without 
 being precisely sickness, injure the capacity for 
 labor; as delicate lungs, feeble sight, &c. 
 
 To the second rank of temporary causes may 
 be added the condition of childhood among or- 
 phans. 
 
 Then comes widowhood, especially when a 
 widow is burdened with many small children. 
 The labor of a woman is scarcely sufficient for 
 her own wants. 
 
 A husband and wife, with a certain number of 
 little children, may become suddenly unable to 
 maintain their whole family, if their occupation 
 is not lucrative. 
 
 In these two last cases, labor provides for a 
 part of the wants ; assistance is necessary to sup- 
 ply the deficiency. 
 
 The last cause of poverty is that cessation of 
 labor, which proceeds from the workman finding 
 no occupation. 
 
 It is evidently necessary to vary the kind of 
 assistance which such different conditions claim. 
 13 
 
146 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 The first of all cares should consist in inducing 
 the poor to accomplish the portion of labor they 
 are capable of; and to this end it is important 
 never to give them assistance equal to that 
 which labor might have procured for them. The 
 principal object is to give the poor facilities for 
 labor, and we cannot excite them to industry 
 too much. For the preservation of their moral 
 dignity, they should be led to employ their ac- 
 tivity, and exert their energy to the utmost. 
 It is however often necessary to give assistance 
 also. A poor old woman, who is too infirm to 
 work, may sell at a stand on a corner of the street. 
 A place and the permission of the police must be 
 obtained for her, and the necessary articles must be 
 furnished to begin with. The poor may be hired 
 to work for each other; the garments that 
 are given to one poor family may be made in 
 another, and thus benefit both. 
 
 The degree of confidence, which the poor de- 
 serve, by their wisdom and economy, ought to 
 influence much the choice of assistance which 
 is bestowed upon them, in those cases where 
 a choice can be made. 
 
 In general, bread is of all things absolutely 
 necessary, and what the poor man procures to 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 147 
 
 himself first of all, with the resources which, re- 
 main to him, and yet it is that which should 
 first of all be procured for him. The reason of 
 this is, that it is that which he can least abuse 
 which he furnishes for himself day by day, in 
 proportion to his necessity. By the side of bread, 
 and almost as necessary, may be placed the 
 economical soups, in cities where they are made, 
 and at the seasons in which they are distributed. 
 Yet this second kind of aliments meets in prac- 
 tice with some inconveniences, which do not exist 
 in respect to the first. The poor sometimes sell 
 their soups instead of using them. If they 
 wish to carry the soup home to share it with 
 their families, it is necessary to have it warm- 
 ed over again. All stomachs do not accom- 
 modate themselves to these soups, at least as 
 they are generally prepared ; we frequently see 
 poor people refuse them. It would be very use- 
 ful to distribute potatoes and soup of bones, 
 though that is hardly customary. For the poor, 
 whatever their distress, cannot live upon bread 
 alone, and it will be rendering them a double 
 service to procure for them, at the most econom- 
 ical price, food which may be joined to it. They 
 will then employ the resources which remain 
 
148 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 to them to procure other necessary articles. In 
 the mean time they will at least have lived ; 
 the mpst pressing wants will have been provid- 
 ed for ; hunger cannot be adjourned. 
 
 Malthus has committed a second fundamental 
 error in supposing that the bread and other food 
 which is publicly or privately distributed to the 
 poor, by increasing the total consumption in the 
 country, will raise the price of provisions, and 
 thus increase their scarcity. He did not look 
 upon things as they are. By giving food to 
 the poor, we enable them to provide for their 
 other wants themselves ; and economy may be 
 exercised in making nourishing food from many 
 things which are often neglected and wasted. Thus 
 soup may be made of bones, &c. Is it necessary 
 to become barbarous to the poor in order to pre- 
 serve society from danger? Is it necessary that 
 the poor should die of hunger, ihat the rest of 
 society may live ? Even if the poor are nourished, 
 the markets will not be stripped, and there will 
 still be bread enough for every body. 
 
 The health of the poor should also be at- 
 tended to. After food, come linen and clothing. 
 Poor people should have given them but two shirts ; 
 if they receive more, they may sell or pawn them. 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 149 
 
 Wooden shoes should also be given, because they 
 are proof against dampness. It is better to lend 
 the necessary furniture, than to give it to the 
 poor, for you may find in a few weeks, that all 
 you have given is pawned to provide for some 
 present urgent want. Coal and wood should 
 only be given in small quantities, because other- 
 wise they will be wasted. 
 
 It sounds harsh, and it is difficult to say it, but 
 it is nevertheless true, that we must show our- 
 selves very economical towards the poor, by 
 granting the most mean and miserable articles 
 to their solicitations. Otherwise we do them 
 more harm than good ; for as soon as they have 
 surmounted the first shame of begging, their en- 
 treaties will* know no bounds, especially if they 
 perceive that their solicitations make you yield. 
 We should like to put them in circumstances 
 of comfort, but it would not be understanding 
 their interests rightly. It is useful to them to 
 feel privation, for it is the spur which is to excite 
 them to industry, and to the employment of all 
 the resources that remain to them. Besides, 
 experience has taught us, that people more easily 
 abuse what is given to them, than what they 
 procure by the sweat of their brow. In short, 
 13* 
 
150 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 desires multiply with the facility of obtaining 
 their gratification. 
 
 There are, however, exceptions to these aus- 
 tere rules. There are some poor so estimable 
 that we do not find it necessary to arm ourselves 
 against them with these manifold precautions, 
 because there is no fear that they will abuse 
 what they receive. There are some so respecta- 
 ble that we should do well to procure them ease 
 of circumstances, if that were possible. But^ it 
 is not such poor that torment us with indiscreet 
 solicitations. The characters of the poor how- 
 ever are not always so marked. Between those 
 who deserve entire confidence, and those who de- 
 serve none, there is an infinity of shades. Thus 
 the choice of succour will not be modified merely 
 by the nature of the wants ; it will also be modi- 
 fied by the disposition of the poor, and their hab- 
 its of life, according as they are more or less 
 regular, provident, careful, economical, and wise. 
 This study of character can only belong to those 
 who are in frequent intercourse with the poor, 
 who can obtain, or take by surprise, the secret 
 of their virtues or vices. 
 
 The use the poor make of our bounty will be 
 the surest guide in the choice of what we shall 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 151 
 
 bestow again. We must observe whether the 
 kind of assistance we have given them, is the 
 kind they require, and^ whether they make the 
 use of it which we intended. For this inspec- 
 tion, it is necessary, that the same poor should 
 remain for some length of time under the inspec- 
 tion of the same visitor. In the course of this 
 habitual inspection, he will be able to remark 
 if the condition of the poor under his care has 
 become aggravated, improved, or modified in any 
 way ; and will avoid continuing assistance when 
 it has ceased to be indispensable. And he will 
 also be able to bring opportune aid in cases of 
 emergency, which might otherwise be followed by 
 a long series of evils. For instance, he may 
 prevent a family from pawning their few goods, 
 if he knows all the circumstances and vicissitudes 
 of their history. 
 
 But how can these precautions be taken, and 
 these rules observed, if the hand that gives, and 
 the eye that studies, are not constantly asso- 
 ciated together? A gift should come to the poor 
 accompanied by counsels, exhortations, sometimes 
 by reprimands ; and who can address them in such 
 language excepting one who has obtained their 
 confidence and knows them well ? 
 
152 
 
 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 After the visitor of the poor has studied the 
 situation of the poor, and found out their wants, he 
 must endeavour to discoyer the most economical 
 means of assisting them. He must teach them 
 economy, the spirit of order and foresight, and 
 how to preserve their self-respect and dignity. 
 This will be to them a real treasure. 
 
 He must therefore have the condescension and 
 patience to enter into the minutest details respect- 
 ing their condition. Are they married, or single ? 
 What is the number of children, their sex, their 
 age ? Here we find ourselves again in the pres- 
 ence of the partisans of Malthus, and this time 
 we can without doubt give ourselves up to lament 
 with them the imprudent and premature marriages 
 of the indigent class. We do not believe how- 
 ever, that establishments of charity promote them. 
 The fatiguing life they lead, and the few en- 
 joyments which are granted to them, make 
 them seek more strongly the pleasures of conjugal 
 union. The occasion presents itself, and they 
 yield so much the more easily to a natural in- 
 clination, as their morals are more pure. They 
 flatter themselves with the illusions natural to 
 their age. 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 153 
 
 It is not true that the poor look forward to 
 charitable institutions to provide for their children. 
 On the contrary, they often look forward to the 
 assistance their children will afford them ; and 
 still more frequently they think nothing about it. 
 Want of foresight, a too blind confidence in the 
 future, a too great facility in yielding to their in- 
 clinations, are the true causes of imprudent mar- 
 riages. The remedy must be found in a good 
 education, which will give the laborious classes 
 ideas of order, and habits of reflection. Those 
 who marry with some good prospects for the fu- 
 ture, often find them fail, by a reverse of circum- 
 stances ; but even those who marry imprudently 
 should not, for that reason, be abandoned by us. 
 
 If we can obtain the direction of the affairs of 
 a poor family, we should in the first place endeav- 
 our to teach them the science of economy. The 
 least attention to it makes a wonderful difference 
 in their affairs. We should, in the first place, 
 show them the great saving that may be made in 
 daily expenses, by always getting just enough, and 
 having no waste in their daily food. This is the 
 most difficult and yet the most necessary economy. 
 Secondly, we should consider those times of 
 emergency, when rent is to be paid, and show 
 
154 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 them that nothing is gained by delay of payments, 
 and that short terms are less oppressively felt. 
 It is rendering them an ill service to accommodate 
 them by delays of payment. It brings an emer- 
 gency, often fatal, when every thing is sacrificed. 
 Besides, assistance is more easily obtained in de- 
 tail, than in round sums, and it is a kind of suc- 
 cour less liable to abuse. Thirdly, they should 
 be led to see the difference between summer and 
 winter, and during the comparative plenty of the 
 former, to provide for the latter, when wants are 
 greater and more pressing, and resources fewer. 
 We must do all this by counsels and entreaties. 
 And it is necessary to confess that we cannot hope 
 to make the poor always see their own best inter- 
 ests. We must pity these unfortunate beings. 
 It is easier to be severe on them, than to put our- 
 selves in their situation. With so many pressing 
 wants, it is difficult for them to choose wisely the 
 manner of spending the trifling sum which is in 
 their hands. We must not only urge, we must 
 employ indirect means to lend force to our coun- 
 sels ; and we must measure our assistance and 
 the testimonies of our interest, by the docility we 
 meet with. 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 155 
 
 The poor should be strongly advised to procure, 
 if possible, healthy and airy places of abode, 
 especially those who lead a sedentary life. If 
 tenements could be erected with this especial 
 reference, it would be of the greates\use to the 
 poor ; but there are few who are willing to run the 
 risk of such efforts. The more the poor are 
 spread about among those in easy circumstances 
 the better, for they are better taken care of; while 
 many evils are prevented by their separation from 
 each other. It would also favor the adoption of 
 the poor by the richer families. 
 
 It is better to lend furniture than to give it to 
 the poor. If we do the latter, in moments of 
 emergency they may sell it. To sleep on straw, 
 is an expression we use as synonymous with a 
 state of extreme misery. But it is a very agreea- 
 ble, and, what is more important, a very healthy 
 bed. Count Rumford proposed beds filled with 
 air, which had many advantages, but they do not 
 seem to have been adopted. 
 
 A facility of putting their goods in pawn is a 
 most fatal seduction for the indigent. Always ab- 
 sorbed by the feeling of present want, confident 
 of the future, or utterly regardless of it, they think 
 they obtain a resource in what proves their ruin. 
 
156 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Too much warning can hardly be given them on 
 this point. Assistance in delivering them from 
 this difficulty should be very cautiously given. 
 And we cannot show ourselves too severe towards 
 those who pawn those articles which have been 
 furnished them. This habit is a sign of great 
 want of principle ; it shows us that they solicit 
 our aid ta abuse it. 
 
 We should pay the most particular attention to 
 teaching the poor how to keep what they have. 
 We should, if possible, require of them an ac- 
 count of what they have, reward their care, and 
 even punish their negligence. Neatness is one 
 means of preservation, and a sign which announces 
 the spirit of order ; it is melancholy to see how 
 ignorant the poor are of it, and what a symptom of 
 moral disease it almost invariably is. Where we 
 find it, we should grant some confidence, for it is 
 generally deserved. 
 
 This consideration will guide us in the choice 
 of articles to be furnished to the poor. When 
 they have not learnt to take care of things, we 
 should give them more ordinary articles. 
 
 Count Rumford, M. Cadet de Vaux, M. Bourriat, 
 and many other philanthropists have written much 
 concerning the means of clothing and nourishing 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 157 
 
 the poor. But these things have not been put in 
 practice. It is not, however, because their meth- 
 ods are not excellent, but because the poor them- 
 selves are ignorant of them, and can only be made 
 acquainted with them through the visitor of the 
 poor, whose duty it is to communicate them, and 
 to do away the prejudices, routine, &c. which 
 make it hard for the poor to adopt them. He 
 should therefore make himself acquainted with the 
 details of all the valuable works on these subjects, 
 neither falling in with the prejudices of the vulgar, 
 nor with the frivolous disdain with which men of 
 the world look on these humble studies. 
 
 The advice of the visitor of the poor in respect 
 to the price and kind of stuffs which it is best 
 to buy, and the choice of fuel, and the means 
 of warming themselves at the least possible ex- 
 pense, is of great importance to the poor. The 
 many valuable discoveries of modern science on 
 these subjects, can only be diffused among the 
 poorer classes, which are always prejudiced, 
 through their confidence in the friendship and 
 wisdom of their visitor.* 
 
 * The author has devoted a large part of a chapter to 
 directions to the visitor of the poor as to the choice of arti- 
 14 
 
158 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Sickness and death bring into the families of 
 the poor a thousand real evils ; for they bring, in 
 their train, loss of work, discouragement of mind, 
 and almost all the causes of poverty.* No com- 
 munity can be so well ordered that the members 
 of the poorer classes shall not be exposed some- 
 times to such distress, as charity is called on to 
 relieve. It is not necessary to enter into the 
 details of these evils. They will occur to every 
 one on the least reflection. The visitor of the 
 poor will now be called on to give immediate aid, 
 
 cles and their prices. But as it applies particularly to Paris, 
 the Translator has omitted it. Every visitor of the poor 
 must make such a manual for himself, adapted to the cir- 
 cumstances of his own country, and city. 
 
 * The author has devoted a whole chapter to the subject 
 of sickness and convalescence among the poor of Paris. 
 But these things depend so much on the place, that the 
 Translator has omitted it. It is sufficient to say, that he 
 directs the visitor to every means of ascertaining the 
 causes of disease, and of preventing it, which the art of 
 medicine, or the philanthropy of charity have devised, as 
 well as to all the means of relieving it, and of doing away 
 its effects on the constitutions and the affairs of the poor. 
 But this, also, is a subject, which every visitor of the poor 
 must study in the place of his residence, and form direc- 
 tions for himself. 
 
WISE DISTRIBUTION OF CHARITY. 159 
 
 and, in case of convalescence, to encourage and 
 support the weak spirits, to assist in procuring, 
 and not till the health is sufficiently restored, new 
 labor ; in case of death, to console survivors, and 
 to aid them in those new arrangements which may- 
 be necessary and may require his aid. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THE OFFICE OF 
 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 To whom shall this difficult, delicate, and some- 
 times painful ministry, whose functions have been 
 described, be confided ? — We answer, to all those 
 who will consent to accept the burden ; whatever 
 may be their sex, age, or condition, provided 
 they have virtue enough to feel the value of it, 
 and judgment and experience enough to be capa- 
 ble of fulfilling it with wisdom. 
 
 "What," some will doubtless say, "have we 
 not administrations, especially charged with the 
 distribution of public charity ? When you re- 
 flect upon it, is it not a romance that you present 
 to us, when you call upon private individuals to 
 execute a mission of this kind ? Where will you 
 find persons, who are able and willing to take 
 charge of it ? Will you address yourselves to 
 the worldly, and those occupied with business ? " 
 Yes, we answer again, we shall find a great many 
 among those very people of the world, preoccu- 
 
WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THIS OFFICE. 161 
 
 pied with what you call business, whose hearts 
 are accessible to the sentiments of charity. But 
 two main propositions on this subject we hope to 
 establish. 
 
 1. Every person, who undertakes to assist 
 indigence, must become himself a visitor of the 
 poor. 
 
 2. The visiting of the poor by private persons 
 is necessary to supply the deficiencies of the pub- 
 lic administration of charity. 
 
 The first proposition results evidently from the 
 considerations developed in the preceding chap- 
 ters. There is but one way, in which we can 
 dispense with visiting the poor, whom we wish to 
 succour ; and that way is, to put the assistance we 
 destine to this end, into the hands of visitors of 
 the poor. But to give blindly, and without any 
 other information, to the beggar at our door, or on 
 the road, is not to give ; it is to throw at hazard, and 
 to expose ourselves to do harm, instead of good. 
 If we are happy enough to cause this intended 
 bounty to fall upon the truly unfortunate, without 
 injuring them, still our good action will remain 
 very imperfect towards him ; because, haying no 
 conviction of the wants of him upon whom it 
 falls, we cannot really sympathize with his suffer- 
 14* 
 
162 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 ings. Nor will it benefit ourselves, since we spare 
 ourselves the application, the fatigue, the employ- 
 ment of time, and the triumph over our repugnan- 
 ces ; — that is to say, all that would have been to 
 us a greater sacrifice, than that of a few pieces of 
 money, which, perhaps, imposes upon us no sen- 
 sible privation. 
 
 If we throw these pieces of money into a 
 charity-box, or confide them to hands more prac- 
 tised, and more active, we shall doubtless obtain 
 an assurance of their being used well. But how 
 many things will be wanting in this apparent 
 charity ! We shall have avoided the presence of 
 the unfortunate, and all direct communication 
 with him. Our charity will also be still more 
 indolent than it was before. There is, besides, a 
 great deal of assistance, which We cannot thus 
 transmit through others. Such are certain things 
 we can give, of which we cannot easily deprive 
 ourselves, and which we should reserve, if we did 
 not see some unfortunate person, to whom they 
 would be a treasure. Such, also, are good coun- 
 sels, consolation, encouragement, and useful sug- 
 gestions. A single word may double the price 
 of important assistance to him who receives it. 
 In short, we deprive ourselves of a multitude of 
 
WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THIS OFFICE. 163 
 
 salutary instructions, which we might have drawn 
 from the exercise of this investigating charity ; and 
 thereby, we also deprive ourselves of the means 
 we should have drawn from it, of being more 
 useful to other unfortunates. 
 
 Let those then, who are not insensible to the 
 supplications of misfortune, not fear to make their 
 good actions complete. Their presence will be a 
 testimony of their benevolence, much more ex- 
 pressive than their alms ; besides that they will 
 learn how far alms are necessary. Have you not 
 your visits of civility and etiquette? Well, 
 sometimes grant one also to the celestial sentiment 
 of charity ! You will have your reward. 
 
 The second proposition we have announced, 
 springs as it were from the preceding. 
 
 In the practice of benevolence, as in all other 
 things, habit too often engenders routine, and gives 
 birth to certain prejudices, which may be called 
 prejudices of the trade, if the expression is ad- 
 missible on such a subject. 
 
 Those who are known to make official investi- 
 gations, rarely discover all the circumstances of 
 facts. People easily disguise from them what they 
 have an interest in concealing. Besides, official 
 investigators are forced, in order to obtain informa- 
 
164 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 tion, to address themselves to strangers, and to third 
 persons who are more or less indifferent and suspi- 
 cious. But he, who visits on his own account, is 
 on the contrary in a favorable situation to find 
 out every thing more easily. He knows to whom 
 he addresses himself, and he is answered. His 
 interposition is more natural ; his questions cause 
 less embarrassment ; and a thousand little details 
 come to him without reserve. The poor will be 
 less anxious to deceive him, because they do not 
 see in him the agent of public authority. They 
 will tell him the more, the less he requires. In 
 short, if the presence of a private person does not 
 at first inspire the same respect, as that of a min- 
 ister of public charity, perhaps, on the other hand, 
 he less intimidates that shrinking of misfortune, 
 which desires to envelope itself in a veil of secre- 
 cy. He will have a better chance of obtaining the 
 confidence of that class of the unfortunate who 
 avoid inspection, and even fear pity, than any 
 official investigator. A person will be so much 
 the more easily admitted into the interest of a 
 family, in proportion as he is supposed better 
 prepared to comprehend them. 
 
 It is well known that the public administrator 
 has a crowd of poor on his hands at once, and 
 
WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THIS OFFICE. 165 
 
 that his solicitude is necessarily divided. Now 
 people shrink from being assisted systematically. 
 They prefer a private, individual assistance. 
 They seek a personal protection. They feel 
 more attraction, and more confidence towards him, 
 who, not being surrounded by numerous depen- 
 dents, concentrates his cares upon the family he 
 comes to console. It is no longer mere charity ; 
 it is true friendship. Such are the impressions of 
 the poor. They think the protection nearer to 
 them, when they are its direct and personal ob- 
 ject. 
 
 Shall I say it ? There is still another obsta- 
 cle, which prevents estimable men in official 
 stations, from succeeding in discovering all that 
 is required. I shall be understood by those, 
 who understand the human heart, its suscepti- 
 bilities, and its weaknesses. Misfortune, when 
 real and deep, is very susceptible. There is 
 something indescribable in the presence of him, 
 whom official duty brings to our aid. We see 
 in him a legal writ, a formula, a rule of conduct. 
 We open our heart more freely to one whom we 
 suppose drawn towards us by a peculiar and 
 spontaneous impulse. We present ourselves be- 
 fore the first, as before a sort of magistrate ; we 
 
166 VISITOR OF THE POOR, 
 
 make arrangements to receive him ; we prepare 
 to answer him. It is not the same with regard 
 to the other. We allow ourselves to be taken 
 by surprise. We are what we seem to be. Sup- 
 pose in this last case, if you will, less perfection 
 of virtue. For that very reason, fearing his pres- 
 ence less, we shall approach him more easily, 
 and confess with less difficulty those very weak- 
 nesses, which are a part of our misfortune as 
 well as one of its causes. And this is precisely 
 what it was necessary to know. 
 
 There is a counsel, upon which we cannot in- 
 sist too much to those persons, who are accus- 
 tomed to assist the poor. It is, to concentrate 
 their gifts upon a small number, and especially 
 to continue them to those whom they have begun 
 to assist. They will thus succeed in bringing 
 out fully the good of which they have planted 
 the first germ. Enlightened by their experience, 
 they will easily correct any errors into which 
 they may have fallen ; and will learn to suit 
 their bounty to the exigencies of sufferers. 
 Aware of their relation to the poor, their inter- 
 course will be no longer mere visiting. It will 
 be a sort of guardianship. It will even be friend- 
 ship, 
 
WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THIS OFFICE. 167 
 
 This guardian and friend has a thousand means 
 of habitual information. The poor man finds 
 access to him at any time. Entering without 
 uneasiness, he comes to relate what he has been 
 doing, and to ask counsel about what he is going 
 to do. Sometimes, when necessity is press- 
 ing, and there is not a moment to be lost, he 
 has recourse to him, whose goodness he has al- 
 ready experienced. At other times, when new 
 hopes arise, he goes to confide them to him, who 
 enters into his interests. 
 
 This guardian and friend, precisely because 
 he is in the world, and in the midst of its affairs, 
 has a thousand indirect means of doing good to 
 the poor, by the indirect relations which this 
 kind of life procures him. He knows a manufac- 
 turer, who will employ the workman who has no 
 business. He can procure some occupation for 
 the wife, &c, can obtain a delay from the credi- 
 tor, or from the landlord. Having only this 
 family to protect, he can employ himself entirely 
 in its behalf, and thus will be formed the most 
 touching alliances between goodness and misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 This is not all. The person, who gives chari- 
 ty, without seeing or being seen by the unfor- 
 
168 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 tunate one who receives it, loses the opportunity 
 of being excited to give again, which would be 
 the consequence of having immediate commu- 
 nication with him. In the crisis of a fit of sick- 
 ness, or in pressing need, he will not only him- 
 self furnish what urgent necessity claims ; but 
 his friends and relations to whom he will natu- 
 rally relate the afflicting circumstances of the 
 honest and unfortunate family, will also be affect- 
 ed, and will wish to associate themselves in 
 giving assistance, and thus the number of bene- 
 factors will increase. The children of the house, 
 hearing and repeating this story, will also like 
 to be of the party ; will reserve some of their 
 pocket money ; will watch for the moment, in 
 which they shall go to see the poor family, and 
 joyfully offer their little tribute. A multitude 
 of useless things which have been neglected 
 in the family as rubbish, which were wasted 
 without reflection, will acquire an unexpected 
 value ; for with some care and repairing, they 
 may still be of great use in a poor family. The 
 refuse articles of the rich are often the luxury 
 of the poor. With refuse garments they will 
 make a decent one ; the old linen will become 
 useful to the sick and wounded. Thus will be 
 
WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THIS OFFICE. 169 
 
 prevented the waste of so many articles, thrown 
 by, by those in easy circumstances ; and thus 
 a thousand streams will be opened, to bring their 
 waters into the channel of beneficence ; thus 
 a new treasure will be created, without a priva- 
 tion to any one. But in order to obtain this 
 creation, direct personal interest, and consequent- 
 ly immediate contact, is necessary. A private 
 individual will not send a portion of soup to the 
 charity-office, but he will willingly carry it to 
 that poor woman, who has just been confined 
 in the neighbouring house. Doubtless there is 
 an enlightened charity, which, rising to general 
 views, is moved at the mere thought of the suf- 
 ferings of humanity. I admire, I honor it, even 
 when it contents itself with concurring in the 
 relief of these sufferings by a pecuniary contri- 
 bution in the form of a subscription, renewed 
 periodically. But I count more upon the effect 
 produced by the sight of misfortune, to melt the 
 heart of most men, and to teach them the beau- 
 tiful science of charity. 
 
 This consideration alone would be sufficient 
 
 to justify the views, which we here present. We 
 
 would almost venture to assert, that the increase 
 
 of succour, naturally obtained by individual pa- 
 
 15 
 
170 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 tronage, would be so great, that without effort 
 these succours would become proportionate to 
 the wants, and that there would be no deficiency. 
 Is it not a great good, too, for the unfortunate to 
 feel themselves the object of affection and benevo- 
 lence, which is personal ? to know the features 
 of their benefactor ? to be able to repeat his 
 name; to be able to love and bless him, and to re- 
 commend him to Heaven ? The emotion of grati- 
 tude consoles a sufferer ; it ameliorates, purifies, 
 and leads him to virtue. He will more wisely 
 use the bounty to which this sentiment has added 
 a new value. Now these consolations, and this 
 amelioration, are among the blessings, which mis- 
 ery expects from us ; and not the least essential 
 in view even of their physical welfare. Health 
 returns with serenity of mind ; suffering is borne 
 with more patience, labor is pursued with more 
 ardor. 
 
 You have dropped your money into a charity- 
 box, because you wish to remain unknown. Your 
 action is generous, nor do I wish to diminish the 
 merit of it. The veil with which you wish to 
 envelope yourself, enhances this merit in my eyes. 
 But I transport myself to the side of the poor man 
 to whom your gift has arrived by a third person ! 
 
WHO SHOULD BE CALLED TO THIS OFFICE. 171 
 
 Unenlightened, and little practised in going back 
 to causes, the image of Divine Providence pre- 
 sents itself to him in the assistance he receives, 
 in a form too fugitive and imperceptible. He 
 receives coldly perhaps this gift from the stranger. 
 Attempt to make one sacrifice more for him, that 
 of your modest diffidence. Do not fear to show 
 yourself to him. Let him express his gratitude to 
 you ; and he will be the better for it, and will find 
 his affections again, which he had perhaps lost. 
 And amidst his ruin, was not this his greatest loss ? 
 What a noble and beautiful institution it would 
 be, if every rich family could live near, and be in 
 the confidence of, and exercise protection over, 
 some poor family ! 
 
 But, it will be objected, that what I demand of 
 a visitor of the poor, requires much time. Who 
 will have the leisure to take upon him so many 
 cares, and to continue them afterwards ? Much 
 time ! Have we calculated the time which we 
 dissipate in a thousand idle things, or even that 
 which is consumed in listlessness ? But no : these 
 calls may be very short, for they have no fixed 
 and necessary hour. They are made as opportu- 
 nities occur ; moments, otherwise lost, are devoted 
 to them. And, besides, the more we succeed in 
 
172 VISITOR OF THE POOH. 
 
 multiplying those who will accept of this minis- 
 try, the less time it will require of each one. 
 " There is no one," you say, " who refuses to an- 
 swer a request, or who does not sometimes give, in 
 passing, to the beggar whom he meets on the way. 
 But, if we must mount into a garret to inquire into 
 a thousand details, it is quite another thing. The 
 fountain of kind feeling, which suffices for the first 
 kind, does not ever inspire such solicitous charity." 
 Now, it is precisely this effeminate beneficence, 
 which, because it gives alms, thinks to accomplish 
 the divine law of charity, that we would bring 
 under the spirit of this law. This is the germ of 
 goodness, which we would wish to make blossom. 
 They, indeed, assist the poor, who in any way 
 contribute to their necessities ; or at least, they 
 intend to do so. We would wish to lead them 
 to love the poor. If they make a first visit, the 
 second will be more easy, and will meet with 
 less repugnance. By degrees they will become 
 accustomed and attached to the service ; at the 
 same time they will also become enlightened, and 
 will have obtained the education for it which was 
 wanting to them. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ADVANTAGES TO BE REAPED BY THE VISITOR OF 
 THE POOR. 
 
 Little confidence is to be placed in that sen- 
 sibility to misfortune which feeds on theatrical 
 representations and fictitious reading. There is 
 a great gulf between the reveries of the imagina- 
 tion and the charity of the heart. One may weep 
 in reading, in a romance, of the misfortunes of a 
 family, and of the generosity of its deliverer, and 
 pass afterwards with a dry eye before the door of 
 a miserable hovel, or contemplate, with more 
 repugnance perhaps than tenderness, a spectacle 
 which has nothing in it of the picturesque. 
 
 But what book is worth such a spectacle? 
 From what school can be derived such instruc- 
 tion ? — This is a great subject. Let a few facts 
 speak. 
 
 My friend A is an honest man, who annoys 
 
 and injures no one, and, having a great talent for 
 business, has given himself up to it all his life. 
 Living like all the world, he was accustomed to 
 15* 
 
174 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 breakfast, dine, sleep, read his newspaper, and 
 cultivate the relations of society. He did not 
 himself suspect the ordinary nature of his exis- 
 tence, the frozen temperature of the atmosphere 
 he breathed. He fulfilled his external duties, 
 went punctually to church every Sunday, for that 
 is only reputable ; but he did not comprehend the 
 secrets of moral life, the high destinies of our 
 nature, the sublimer vocation of man. The 
 maxims of sages upon this matter seemed to him 
 an idle speculation ; he smiled at the illusion of 
 those who raise themselves to these ideas ; as to 
 himself he had no time to lose in philosophizing. 
 But one day I proposed to him to accompany me 
 in a visit I was going to make. He could not go ; 
 he had an appointment ; the order of his day 
 could not be deranged : besides, could not I do 
 better than he ? He begged me to take charge of 
 what he had to bestow. I persuaded him, how- 
 ever, and, though a little out of humor, he went 
 with me. We entered into conversation with 
 this family, which had also its own business, which 
 he made them explain to him. I left him, with- 
 out his perceiving it, in the midst of the afflicted 
 circle. He gave useful counsel, and took the 
 charge of some necessary step to their affairs ; he 
 
ADVANTAGES TO THE VISITOR OF THE POOR. 175 
 
 obtained their confidence, and had the happiness 
 to render a service. 
 
 A few days after, I met him and made my apol- 
 ogies for having taken him away from his business. 
 But he was no longer the same man, the expres- 
 sion of his countenance was changed. He was 
 more affectionate than I had been accustomed to 
 see him. His conversation took another direction, 
 and he asked me various questions about the ob- 
 jects of our solicitude. He had discovered some- 
 thing new in life ; he had begun to conceive 
 that man is not created and put into the world 
 merely to make an establishment and live at his 
 ease in peace with his neighbours. There was a 
 book on his table. He had discovered that there 
 is another, superior region, whose influences 
 ennoble and animate the monotonous existence 
 of earthly interests. 
 
 I knew Mrs. to be an amiable and gentle 
 
 woman ; her house was ever attractive, and her 
 purse open to the poor. But serious conversa- 
 tion wearied her. Effort was painful to her. She 
 wished that every thing should go on of itself; her 
 children were at a boarding-school. Dress and 
 company cheated time of its languor. The excite- 
 ment of pulpit eloquence, when there was any, in- 
 
176 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 terested her ; but she relished serious reading little. 
 I solicited this lady to accompany me in one of my 
 visits. Nothing seemed more impossible ; dust and 
 filth inspired her with insuperable disgust ; rude 
 manners were her antipathy. I did however obtain 
 what seemed so impossible. The next morning 
 I found her by the bed of the invalid she had 
 visited with me. She had returned of her own 
 accord and without me. But this was not all. 
 The employment of her time was soon changed ; 
 her husband found her more attentive and affec- 
 tionate ; the education of her children awakened 
 in her more interest; — her friends soon discov- 
 ered a new expression of sensibility in her con- 
 versation ; and what a guardian had this poor 
 family found ! I had visited it more than once, 
 had inquired of the neighbours and landlord ; but 
 she found out immediately all I was trying to 
 learn, and provided what I intended to procure ; 
 I was only obliged to warn her to be econom- 
 ical in her bounty. 
 
 One young friend of mine was frivolous and fond 
 of pleasure, and less afraid of dissipation than of 
 ennui : he had natural talents, but was too indo- 
 lent to study. He had good qualities, and was a 
 devoted friend, but wasted all his time. 
 
ADVANTAGES TO THE VISITOR OF THE POOR. 177 
 
 Another of the same age was dissipated and 
 prodigal, ostentatious and vain, and wasted his 
 property. 
 
 Can visitors of the poor be made out of such 
 subjects ? I tried ; the former followed me without 
 reflecting, but soon his good heart enlightened his 
 reason, and he came to himself; the latter would 
 not hesitate to do a proper and worthy thing, but 
 his vanity soon became a proper sense of character. 
 
 How did these changes come about ? In the first 
 instance^ surprise and almost horror was awakened 
 in a man ignorant of the great trials that Provi- 
 dence sends on man. He discovered anew aspect 
 of human life, which if he had vaguely suspected, he 
 was unwilling to define to himself. But the voice of 
 God's creatures was heard ; the tears of a widow, 
 the languid eye of an old man met the eyes of the 
 man of the world, and melted his heart. Ques- 
 tions were asked, and heart-rending details were 
 obtained. Faculties and powers, till then slumber- 
 ing, were waked up in the soul of the man of the 
 world ; his mind became concentrated, and he re- 
 turned pensive to involuntary meditation. He 
 looked within, and for the first time his thoughts 
 passed beyond the narrow bounds of present and 
 material things. 
 
178 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Soon the relief he witnessed gave him the idea 
 of a new order of pleasures, and the confidence he 
 inspired acted on him as a sacred engagement. 
 His soul opened to a new order of affections, and 
 he commenced the moral life, — the only real life. 
 The poor man's house was his school, and benev- 
 olence introduced him to the other virtues. 
 
 Another visitor of the poor I had the influence to 
 make of a lady, who had much mind, and was thought 
 to have extreme sensibility. She swooned at the re- 
 cital of an accident ; she could not bear see to a tiler 
 on a house ; her table was covered with romances ; 
 no one was more eloquent in expatiating on the in- 
 terests of humanity ; she was admired of both sex- 
 es. But she was not liberal; she was not even 
 careful to pay her debts ; her house was in disor- 
 der ; no one commended her temper. She neither 
 knew how to diffuse happiness nor to be happy. 
 She went with me, because it seemed to her a ro- 
 mantic adventure, and was something new. She 
 became simple and natural ; her native generosity 
 was revived and exercised, and happiness awoke 
 within and around her. 
 
 Such are the natural effects of the principle of 
 holy humanity, when not interfered with by vicious 
 habits, and neither luxury nor pride separates us 
 
ADVANTAGES TO THE VISITOR OF THE POOR. 179 
 
 from our suffering brethren. In the natural world, 
 the humble fountain is fed by the overflow of the 
 large lake ; the little bird is sheltered in the foliage 
 of the oak; — and should not, in the moral world, 
 prosperity be the shelter of weakness and misery ? 
 Prosperity? — the word may well make us trem- 
 ble — oh, should not the unstable prosperity of this 
 world shelter itself under the benedictions of the 
 relieved poor ? 
 
 The holy principle of humanity often leads us 
 to discover our own wants, of which we were igno- 
 rant. There is a poverty more fatal than that of 
 external privations, a poverty of soul, of which the 
 remedy is in the holy emotions of sympathy. In 
 doing good, man recovers all his faculties. But I 
 must stop. I should have too much to say, if I 
 said all that offers itself to my thoughts, all that 
 fills my heart. Yet let us penetrate one step fur- 
 ther into the moral maladies of humanity. 
 
 There are men of fine moral tone, and great 
 sensibility, who become disgusted with the world, 
 through the disappointment of their noblest desires. 
 They have seen the dark side of human nature, 
 and have withdrawn themselves from intercourse 
 with a practical indifference to their fellow-crea- 
 tures. They renounce their youthful, ingenuous 
 
180 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 hopes of doing good, in a sort of misanthropical des- 
 pair. I have induced such men to a^ompany me 
 in my visits to the poor ; to become the counsel- 
 lors and guardians of poor widows, who needed to 
 have their inexperience and ignorance assisted, 
 and to be supported in bringing up their families. 
 I have found this to be a specific for this interesting 
 misanthropy. The relieved and benefited could 
 understand the characters of which the world was 
 not worthy. 
 
 Another instance occurs to me ; — it is that of a 
 young man, who, though he loved virtue, commit- 
 ted one great fault which embittered all his reflec- 
 tions, and from the importunity of which he en- 
 deavoured to escape by doubting every thing. 
 Just as the abyss was opening at his feet, he had 
 it in his power to give some momentary assistance 
 to an old man, who needed the aid of his arm, 
 and who conducted him to his humble abode. 
 The miserable being had only straw to lie on, and 
 nothing there to eat. The young man was touch- 
 ed with compassion, and betrayed it. The signs 
 of it reanimated the old man, and his expres- 
 sions of confidence operated as a sort of engage- 
 ment on his accidental visitor. A new interest 
 was awakened, and the exercise of beneficence re- 
 stored him to his own esteem. 
 
ADVANTAGES TO THE VISITOR Otf THE POOR. 181 
 
 One day I was myself sinking in spirits under 
 the inflictions of injustice and malice, and went 
 out, even in ill humor, to breathe the air, 
 when a little child met and recognised me. She 
 immediately accosted me with " Oh, please to 
 come and see my poor mother, she is ill." I 
 allowed myself to be conducted by her. Oh 
 how puerile seemed the little crosses of life by 
 which I was affected ! What were they in the 
 presence of real suffering ? 
 
 At another time my health had been affected ; 
 in a constant state of languor 1 was sad and un- 
 easy ; acute pain came at intervals, and I was 
 condemned to numerous privations. Oh, how 
 difficult is the exercise of patience ! how many 
 times I was ready to murmur! When will this 
 trial end ? Shall I have the courage to bear It to 
 the end ? In the midst of this, I was required to 
 give an opinion upon the choice to be made be- 
 tween several poor people, who desired a vacant 
 place in a hospital. I was obliged to ascertain 
 the truth of their situation, and to find out and 
 compare their claims. I soon wondered that I 
 had dared to complain, the object as I was of 
 so much care. The picture of suffering offered 
 to me, brought me to feel how small were my 
 16 
 
182 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 miseries in comparison with those which made 
 an asylum in a hospital sought with so much 
 ardor. 
 
 Again a reverse of fortune came across me ; 
 my situation was changed ; it was necessary to 
 alter the whole arrangement of my life. I was 
 asking myself whether I could have the courage 
 to resign myself to so many sacrifices. But when 
 I entered the house of an infirm father of a family, 
 the labor of whose hands could no longer support 
 his wife and children, whom hunger and cold 
 were besieging; I learned to support my own 
 privations ; I discovered that I was still enjoying 
 an abundance. Could I not still share with them 
 something of that which remained to me ? Ah, 
 yes ! I was still rich ! 
 
 This time the unfortunate man I visit, is, in- 
 deed, less to be pitied than myself. Whatever 
 may be the adversity which weighs upon him, 
 he is at least surrounded by the objects of his 
 affections ; his faithful wife is at his side ; his 
 children smile upon him ; a true friend remains 
 to him. Alas ! Heaven has subjected me to 
 trials which are unknown to him ! my soul 
 has been torn by grief; mourning is my lot ; the 
 tomb alone will unite me to those for whom 
 
ADVANTAGES TO THE VISITOR OF THE POOR. 183 
 
 I lived. But in visiting him, who has lost only- 
 material wealth, I discover that I can console 
 the misfortunes of others ; what a light ! I seem 
 to receive a message sent to me from Heaven 
 by those I weep for here below. They teach me 
 that I can honor them, and preserve with them 
 a sacred intercourse by doing good. I shall have 
 the courage to live and accomplish my task upon 
 earth. 
 
CHAPTER XIL 
 
 SPIRIT OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 On entering a subject so full of interest, as that 
 of the spirit of association applied to the work of 
 charity, one reflection already strikes me ; - Who 
 can be better situated than the visitor of the poor, 
 to conceive the idea of this kind of association, 
 and to point out its true ends ? Who will bring 
 to it better dispositions or more favorable senti- 
 ments ? Who will be better fitted to cooperate 
 successfully with it ? Where will these noble 
 creations be likely to spring up or be applied, if 
 not among those who have seen for themselves the 
 evils which afflict men ; who have studied their 
 causes and remedies ? 
 
 The spirit of association, that powerful princi- 
 ple, so fruitful in all the great creations of indus- 
 try, which is the principle of life in human nature, 
 acquires a new power and fruitfulness, when it 
 bears upon the good of mankind. Here it no 
 longer confines itself to making known men's 
 views, experiences, and efforts, to diffusing and 
 
SPIRIT OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 185 
 
 propagating knowledge by free discussion; but 
 it communicates a new energy to the sentiment 
 which has produced the creation, and which must 
 give it life ; seeming to lend new faculties to the 
 members of the assembly ; for it is the nature 
 of all moral sentiments to tend to communicate 
 themselves, and to receive by intercourse with 
 others, through the principle of sympathy, their 
 most remarkable developement. If, in public as- 
 semblies, the emotion produced by a noble action 
 is transmitted with the rapidity of lightning ; if 
 it acquires in the soul of each one, by the unan- 
 imity of those who share in it, a power which it 
 never could have obtained as a solitary impres- 
 sion ; what must be the effect of an habitual in- 
 tercourse upon not merely the theory, but the 
 practice of charity ? I enter one of these assem- 
 blies ; I see men absorbed, not in the frivolous 
 object of shining and appearing well, but in the 
 most serious thoughts, in the desire of being use- 
 ful to their fellow mortals. I see modest and per- 
 haps obscure men, but full of devotedness, whose 
 simple and sincere language breathes benevolence. 
 They are happy to meet in the same views with- 
 out disputing the merit of originality. What one 
 presents, another developes. Some show the 
 16* 
 
186 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 end, others point out the means. Some show 
 difficulties, others teach how they may be over- 
 come. No one aspires to honors and influence ; 
 but if there are painful commissions to be per- 
 formed, sacrifices to be made, many are ready to 
 accept them. Confidence unites all the members 
 together ; they enjoy reciprocal esteem ; they 
 enjoy the good done in common, and holy friend- 
 ships are formed among them. I return, better 
 and happier for having been admitted to this in- 
 tercourse ; my ideas are enlarged ; an honorable 
 emulation is kindled in my heart. To see a 
 good action done, is somtimes sufficient to show 
 us that we are capable of it ourselves. The noble 
 words of Correggio, " And I also am a painter, 7 * 
 revealed the painter of the graces. But the spirit 
 of Christianity is not a peculiar gift ; it is the 
 patrimony bequeathed to all, though so often un- 
 recognised. However sweet may be the charm 
 we feel in doing a good action, there is one more 
 delicate and more inspiring still, — it is to do it in 
 company with others. If I were a painter, I 
 would represent two good men, confiding to each 
 other the design of a generous action, associating 
 together to put it in execution. I would make 
 joy sparkle in their answering looks, and would 
 
SPIRIT OF ASSOCIATION. 187 
 
 endeavour to announce, by the joining of their 
 hands, what power there is in the union of two 
 wills ! This is what association produces in a 
 more or less numerous assembly, and renews 
 every day. Honor is due to those generous asso- 
 ciations, which the love of doing good has in- 
 spired, and which come to the aid of mankind in 
 a thousand forms. There cannot be a more no- 
 ble alliance than that, of which virtue is the prin- 
 ciple, and good actions the fruit. 
 
 Why are not such useful associations multiplied 
 in all countries ? Why are they almost unknown 
 in many ? Their formation and developement 
 suppose two conditions ; on one side, that there 
 exists a certain public spirit, and on the other, 
 that a knowledge of the wants of the unfortunate, 
 and of the proper means to relieve them, is diffused 
 through society, and has fixed the general atten- 
 tion. The first of these two conditions supposes, 
 in its turn, the existence of institutions of a gen- 
 erous character, knowledge generally diffused, 
 and freely circulating ; and the influence of a 
 wise political liberty and good public morals. 
 
 What better means are there of securing the 
 second condition supposed, next to the influences 
 of a religious spirit, than the presence of a number 
 
188 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 of persons, in the midst of society, who maintain 
 continual communication with the poor ? It is 
 evident how many advantages there are in the 
 visitors of the poor being taken from the midst of 
 society. They are precious centres of heat and 
 light in the midst of the world. It is by them 
 that the world is initiated into the secret of the 
 sufferings which weigh upon the poor ; that its 
 distracted attention is reminded of the claims of 
 charity, amidst the tumult of business, and the 
 intoxication of pleasure. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OF THE COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE IN THE 
 ESTABLISHMENTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 In all the establishments formed for private 
 industry, the mature have naturally the good 
 sense to associate the young with them as useful 
 auxiliaries. Fathers have the wise precaution to 
 prepare their sons, by gradual apprenticeship, to 
 the exercise of the professions they are one day 
 to pursue. The rostrum prepares advocates for 
 the bar. I see the notary surrounded by his 
 young clerks, the merchant and the manufacturer 
 putting in motion their young apprentices; and, 
 to choose an example more in relation to our sub- 
 ject, in our hospital, the most experienced physi- 
 cians are accompanied by pupils who prepare and 
 administer their prescriptions. And why should 
 not the noble career of beneficence also have its 
 neophytes ? 
 
 What precious fruits have the establishments of 
 humanity already reaped, from the assistance of 
 females, to whom Providence has seemed to con- 
 
190 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 fide the touching mission of being the consoling 
 angels of the unfortunate ; and whom it has en- 
 dowed with such exquisite sensibility, such deli- 
 cacy of kindness, such tender pity, and whose 
 virtue draws from religion the benefits it diffuses 
 over the unhappy ! How noble it would be 10 
 complete the work, by associating in it that hap- 
 py age which is so rich in gifts and hopes ! How 
 useful would such cooperation be, both to the 
 unfortunate and to the young people themselves. 
 
 The number of men who enjoy the privilege of 
 being able to devote themselves wholly and un- 
 dividedly to the noble duties of benevolence, is 
 very small. This privilege belongs only to those 
 who have retired from business and have acquired 
 a certain independence in fortune. But at an 
 advanced age their activity often fails, their 
 strength is almost spent ; and if their wisdom and 
 long experience peculiarly fit them for giving good 
 directions, for laying down rules, for judging and 
 advising, yet they cannot themselves always go 
 through the details, and survey and execute what 
 they have conceived. Men of mature age, also, 
 can only give to these labors a few moments at a 
 time ; they cannot follow their inclinations en- 
 tirely ; they are restrained by family ties and 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 191 
 
 imperious duties. The young can supply to them 
 these inevitable deficiencies by seeking and obtain- 
 ing the requisite information. They can explore 
 the vast and varied field of human woe. They 
 can be the bearers of consoling words, and the 
 distributors of proper succours. Doubtless the 
 young would be exposed, by their very simplicity, 
 to be easily deceived by the artifices too often 
 attempted by the poor ; and they would not suffi- 
 ciently observe, in the distribution of charity, that 
 prudence which is especially demanded. But 
 these inconveniences are not to be feared, when 
 the young would only act under the direction of 
 others ; and we find, in the young, certain admira- 
 ble things, which are too often wanting at an ad- 
 vanced age, — ardor which nothing terrifies or 
 wearies ; promptitude to seize the favorable 
 moment ; vivacity of mind which discovers and 
 imagines all resources. 
 
 We are sometimes astonished and afflicted at a 
 sort of languor that seems, at length, to paralyse 
 certain benevolent administrations, and obstacles 
 that arise from the mere habits of routine. The 
 cooperation of the young would give new life to 
 these institutions ; would extend the circle of 
 ideas, and give an opening to useful improve- 
 
192 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 merits. They will wake up those, who, with the 
 best intention in the world, think they could not 
 do better than they have done or are already 
 doing. 
 
 If the exercise of true beneficence is an art as 
 difficult in the choice and employment of means, 
 as it is immense in the sphere it embraces, why 
 should it be the only one that does not require 
 training? The experience of a whole life is not 
 too much to teach its secrets ; for it cannot be 
 studied in books, it is only taught by practice. 
 But it is true that, in practice, errors are fatal. 
 They not only waste the resources already scarce- 
 ly sufficient, but they may increase the evils they 
 propose to cure. And how can the beginner 
 escape these errors ? How can he escape the 
 snares which disguised immorality holds out to 
 him under the sacred garb of misfortune ? How 
 can he escape the seductions of his own heart, 
 whose tenderness prevents reflection and examina- 
 tion, whose delicacy repels suspicion ? If you 
 grant him the novitiate we solicit, the lessons of 
 experience will come to aid the warmth of zeal, 
 and the first essays of benevolence will be sub- 
 jected to a prudent control. Thus our young 
 philanthropist will obtain, without doing any harm, 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 193 
 
 that education which will teach him the different 
 ways in which human miseries may be efficiently 
 remedied. So the art of healing forms its most 
 skilful pupils near the bed of the sick. In pro- 
 portion as the ranks of those virtuous men, of 
 whom our charitable administrations are composed, 
 disappear, numerous candidates will present them- 
 selves to take their places, and the recollection of 
 the devotedness of their predecessors will inspire 
 them with a noble ambition. The choice which 
 may fall upon one of them, calling him to do still 
 more good, will be the reward of the good he has 
 already done. He will no longer have any thing 
 to learn, he will only have to apply what he has 
 already learnt. 
 
 People are still ignorant of how much is to be 
 done, to remedy the evils of all kinds, which 
 afflict humanity ; or at least if they see how 
 much there is to be done, they despair of re- 
 sources. This is an error. With the resources 
 we have, we might provide for more wants than 
 exist, but there is a genius for beneficence as 
 well as for the other arts. This genius requires a 
 certain youthfulness of heart, a certain vivacity 
 of imagination, and an enthusiasm whose warmth 
 has not yet been cooled. If we have not had 
 17 
 
194 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 the advantage of receiving the severe and fruit- 
 ful education of adversity, we can supply this, at 
 least in part, by mingling from our youth in that 
 class of society which is disinherited by fortune, 
 and by uniting ourselves with it by the tie of a gen- 
 erous sympathy. Thus our young novices will 
 begin by being the confidants of grief, in order to 
 be better prepared for aiding it at a future time. 
 
 And who can better obtain the confidence of 
 the afflicted heart ? The amiable and earnest 
 benevolence, the warmth of heart and ingenuous- 
 ness of the young, encourage openness and free- 
 dom. In their words there is a charm which 
 captivates, and in their countenance a something 
 which inspires hope. People love to tell them 
 what they dare not confess to a graver man ; they 
 are reanimated by their presence. The benefit 
 they confer is given with more grace, and the 
 joy they feel in bestowing, is a new consolation to 
 the receiver. The unfortunate person sees in a 
 young man, a protector who is secured to him for 
 many years and who will watch over the whole 
 course of his destiny. Children, especially, will 
 become attached to one, whose age approaches 
 their own. They will listen to his counsels ; 
 they will show him with pride the fruits of their 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 195 
 
 labors ; they will say to themselves, " Here is one 
 who will serve me as a guide, and support my mind 
 through every period of my life." 
 
 What a touching sight is that of a young man, 
 in the midst of a desolate family ! Each one 
 presses round him, and recognises in him a mes- 
 senger of peace and love. He is the best com- 
 forter, who is most easily softened. In the primi- 
 tive church, when Christianity, in its infancy, 
 offered to the astonished world the first example 
 of a society closely united by the bonds of char- 
 ity, although the higher functions of the ministry 
 were reserved for old men, it was in the hands of 
 the young, that were deposited the gifts destined 
 for the suffering. This ministry was the first de- 
 gree of religious consecration. It was judged the 
 most worthy means of introducing men to the ser- 
 vice of the altar. It was thought that as true 
 piety is the most fertile source of beneficence, 
 beneficence, in its turn, constantly leads the heart 
 to pious sentiments ; for, the two great command- 
 ments are like to one another, and the love of 
 God is blended with the love of man. Ah ! may 
 this early age, to which it has been given to know 
 so well how to love, understand the sentiment in 
 its sublimest and purest acceptation, as an entirely 
 
196 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 celestial emanation, which in rising to the Crea- 
 tor, embraces by compassion all his creatures, and 
 especially the unfortunate. To imitate the Su- 
 preme Benefactor, is to do our duty to him. 
 Religion collects the tears of pity as the most 
 acceptable offering. The heart that is full of 
 true love, can be satisfied only by diffusing and 
 devoting itself. What is love if not delight in 
 giving ? To give, is in itself but little ; to give 
 is not charity ; but charity is to love him who 
 suffers. The gift is only the effect, or the sign, 
 and receives all its value from the sentiment which 
 inspires it. Let us offer then to the unfortunate, 
 as to God himself, the best fruits of our faculties, 
 and the spring-time of our life ! 
 
 To open to young people the career of an 
 active beneficence, is therefore to offer them the 
 surest initiation into a deep and enlightened piety ; 
 to exercise them beforehand in the other vir- 
 tues, and inspire a taste for them in their minds. 
 The emotions which they will experience, in this 
 noble apprenticeship, will leave durable impres- 
 sions with them and become a germ of good ac- 
 tions. Their souls will be kept in habits of pure 
 sensibility, and will be guarded against the influ- 
 ence which results too often from the tumult of 
 
COOPERATION OV YOUNG PEOPLE. 197 
 
 business and worldly intercourse, an influence which 
 leads to the cold calculations of selfishness. They 
 will be naturally preserved from the numerous 
 dangers which dissipation, frivolity, and factitious 
 pleasures, sow on all sides under the steps of youth. 
 They will better enjoy innocent pleasures. Their 
 all-devouring activity will find proper aliment, and 
 new energy, in the inward satisfaction which arises 
 from the remembrance of the good accomplished. 
 They will hasten with ever-increasing ardor to the 
 labors imposed upon them. Talent will receive 
 its most fruitful inspirations from following this ca- 
 reer ; for the mind is always enlightened by the 
 holy emotions of virtue. Great thoughts spring 
 from noble sentiments. Thus will be nourished, 
 within the breast of youth, that generous flame 
 which produces courageous acts, and the master- 
 pieces of genius. Thus will be preserved the 
 inward calm, the unalterable peace, which render 
 the judgment sound, and alone procure true secu- 
 rity. Oh, how beautiful are the tears which flow 
 over a face brilliant with youth, but softened by 
 modesty, timidity, and innocence ! How I love to 
 see a youthful heart expand with the hope of re- 
 lieving the woes of others ; discovering, in the 
 morning of life, its sweetest privilege, the pleas- 
 17* 
 
198 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 ure of causing happiness, and enjoying the Chris- 
 tian triumph which is obtained by self-sacrifice for 
 our brethren, and glad consecration to a career, 
 which alone can satisfy a boundless ambition, with- 
 out being troubled by any bitterness ! 
 
 What is more just and perfect, than that the nat- 
 ural exaltation of youth, should be associated with 
 an enthusiasm for doing good. This exaltation, 
 which is capable of so many things, deceives its 
 own instinct, if it does not incline us to be useful to 
 others. Every thing which nature has decorated 
 with bright colors and graceful forms, announces 
 and promises good ; and it is always adorned 
 with youth when it brings to human beings the 
 gifts that it destines for their nourishment. Let 
 us understand the alliance expressed by this sym- 
 bol. Let the young who are the ornament of the 
 state, be also its honor, and the heralds of benefi- 
 cence to all men. Excuse me if I pause with a 
 kind of delight upon this image, and return to it 
 incessantly, for it charms and captivates me. The 
 rising of the dawn is less enchanting to my eyes 
 than celestial charity appearing upon earth in the 
 form of youth. 
 
 Our public institutions have opened all kinds of 
 schools for the instruction of the young. They are 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 199 
 
 established for belles-lettres, for the different branch- 
 es of science, for the liberal arts, and for mechanical 
 industry. But there is still another great school, 
 not less fertile in positive knowledge, and not less 
 necessary to this age, where we may learn to know 
 misfortune, and to study human destiny. The 
 young man whom I introduce into this new school, 
 which is entirely practical and experimental, will 
 discover many things which he might not have 
 learned, or at least not so well have learned, in any 
 book. He will see, with his own eyes, what pro- 
 found and innumerable sufferings are hidden under 
 the brilliant mantle which the world seems to un- 
 fold before the eyes of the superficial beholder, and 
 these sufferings will reveal to him the designs of 
 Providence, who wills that man's passage over the 
 earth shall be a laborious pilgrimage. He will per- 
 ceive how great is the anguish of pain, what aids 
 religion and virtue offer against despair, and how 
 sterile and impotent, in this terrible crisis of our na- 
 ture, are all consolations, not drawn from this source. 
 He will have opportunity to admire patience and re- 
 signation in their noblest manifestations, exercised 
 in desolation, abandonment, and obscurity. He will 
 often meet, under the rags of misery, the truest, 
 most spontaneous virtues, virtues more difficult 
 
200 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 of attainment than those which are celebrated by 
 the praises of the world. He will find out secrets 
 of the human heart, and moral truths, unknown by- 
 speculative philosophers. He will become convinc- 
 ed of the end to which the disorders of vice conduct, 
 of the dangers to which levity and imprudence 
 expose men, and will learn the sad consequences 
 which ignorance and prejudice bring in their train. 
 He will honor labor more, and will feel all the 
 value of economy and good order, which alone 
 preserve the fruits of labor. The emotion which 
 his heart will feel at the sight of so many different 
 troubles, and the sympathy which will associate 
 him with those who bear them, will reveal to him 
 the strength of the bond of that sacred brotherhood 
 which unites all human creatures ; and in this sin- 
 gle sentiment, he will possess, as it were, the 
 torch which enlightens the whole region of mo- 
 rality. 
 
 But will it be said that a young man cannot give 
 himself up to the exercise of private beneficence ? 
 This may be ; but by associating this young man 
 in a humane establishment, you will offer him an 
 occasion which perhaps might have been wanting 
 to him, or which he might perhaps have neglected 
 to seize. Besides, most young people can carry 
 
 / 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 201 
 
 individually, but very limited contributions, as 
 pecuniary resources, to the unfortunate. You will 
 offer to them a means of joining to these a multitude 
 of active services, of a kind for which young people 
 are so well adapted, and which form the most im- 
 portant and fruitful branch of enlightened benefi- 
 cence. It will not be necessary for them to be rich 
 themselves, in order to serve as channels of commu- 
 nication between those who give and those who 
 receive. Private beneficence can only embrace cer- 
 tain kinds of misfortune in its sphere. But, as an 
 organ and minister of an establishment of charity, a 
 young man will go over, on a much larger scale, the 
 extensive and varied field of human misfortunes. 
 And this is not all. By himself, he could only 
 make isolated attempts ; but, initiated into the 
 application of a general system of philanthropic 
 daministration, he will gather up all the knowledge 
 which has been accumulated by a long experience. 
 He will not limit his observations to his own 
 action ; he will see those act who are already per- 
 fected in this great art. How many useful notions 
 he will collect even unexpectedly in the employ- 
 ment confided to him ! He will penetrate into 
 workshops and cottages ; he will become acquaint- 
 ed with the details of manufacturing and agricul- 
 
202 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 tural industry, of which, without this circumstance, 
 he might have been always ignorant. He will 
 collect precious facts about domestic economy, and 
 he will even have an opportunity of acquiring 
 insensibly some ideas concerning the physical 
 education of children, ordaining diseases, and the 
 most common accidents. He will learn their caus- 
 es and the most simple means of remedying them. 
 In his relations with the different classes of society, 
 he will observe their manners, and thus acquire 
 the knowledge of men. He will study characters, 
 and exercise himself in the art of persuading. 
 He will learn to appreciate the means of exerting 
 the only useful and honorable influences; I mean 
 those which rest upon confidence. If he is af- 
 terwards called to a public career, he will find 
 a multitude of useful elements in his numerous 
 recollections, of which he will be able to make use, 
 either as an officer of government or as a discusser 
 of the great interests of legislation, and of society. 
 I think if I had to choose a governor for a prov- 
 ince, I should like to meet with an individual who 
 had received such an education. 
 
 But one of the greatest advantages which this 
 association would offer to young people, would be 
 the putting them in immediate and habitual relation 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 203 
 
 with the respectable men who preside over the es- 
 tablishments of beneficence. Such an intercourse 
 would elevate their souls, would cultivate their rea- 
 son, extend their ideas, and inspire them constant- 
 ly with the need of their own esteem, and show 
 them the end towards which they are worthy to 
 direct their ambition. What examples will be 
 displayed before their eyes ! what instructions will 
 be offered them ! what guides and supports are 
 prepared for them in time of need ! What emula- 
 tion will be excited in their hearts ! What a 
 recompense they will have in the approbation of 
 these good men ! What dignity will be imparted 
 to their manners, and what a serious direction given 
 to their lives ! How should we love to see those 
 venerable men, who watch over the destiny of the 
 poor man, surrounded, in the functions of this 
 touching service, by a troop of young disciples 
 whose eyes were fixed upon them, eager to assist 
 thorn. 
 
 The fundamental rule which should separate the 
 functions peculiar to administrators, from the co- 
 operation confided to their assistants is, in always 
 reserving the direction and decision to the former, 
 and committing the execution only to the latter. 
 
204 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 These young auxiliaries might be arranged in 
 several classes or degrees, and in each, they might 
 receive different kinds of offices. 
 
 The employment which ought to precede all 
 others, consists of the numerous investigations 
 which humane establishments need, in order to 
 form a body of preliminary information, Our 
 young explorers should be sent out to make obser- 
 vations. They should be called on to collect and 
 state facts, taking care to bring together all the cir- 
 cumstances. It would be well to have two young 
 people charged, at the same time, with obtaining 
 the desired information. This association would be- 
 come an occasion of holy friendship, and the charm 
 of these friendships would increase their zeal, by 
 offering them a sweet reward in their labors. 
 
 A second kind of office should have for its ob- 
 ject that detailed superintendence which consists 
 in assuring themselves that what has been prescrib- 
 ed has been faithfully accomplished, and in order 
 to acquit themselves of this office, it would be ne- 
 cessary for them to be thoroughly imbued with the 
 spirit of the orders given, of the end to which they 
 tend, and the conditions they suppose. We con- 
 ceive that these cares would give to our young 
 people happy habits of regularity and precision. 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 205 
 
 They would themselves appreciate the effects and 
 results of the concerted distributions. 
 
 The superintendents, however, should not on this 
 account cease to make their own visits, to inquire 
 for themselves, and assure themselves of every 
 thing. Nothing can dispense with an administra- 
 tor's seeing with his own eyes. But he cannot be 
 every where. He can therefore be aided, and the 
 investigation may become more extensive and more 
 frequent. The administrator, in his visits, may be 
 accompanied by some young pupils, who will learn, 
 from his example, the difficult art of observing 
 carefully. 
 
 As yet our novices have only been called to see ; 
 and it is indeed needful to begin thus in every 
 thing. Facts are the elements of science ; afterwards 
 they might begin to act, or at least participate in ac- 
 tion. They should act under the eyes of the ad- 
 ministrator, following the instructions received 
 from him ; cooperating in that part of the execu- 
 tion which requires most activity and promptitude, 
 but which is the least discretionary : their labor 
 would resemble that of apprentices in workshops ; 
 they would be regulated by a model, and finish 
 what had been traced out by others. 
 18 
 
206 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 Thus are our philanthropic pupils in motion, 
 in the sphere which an establishment embraces. 
 They receive, carry, and bring back knowledge 
 and relief; afterwards they will be called to the 
 centre of action, and find other employments, 
 always without disturbing the economy and unity 
 of the administrative system. Some will make 
 reports, others keep records, or be charged with 
 a part of the correspondence, and they may thus 
 diminish the expenses of secretaryship. Some can 
 examine memorials, and take notes or extracts. 
 Those who have occasion to travel, can visit, in 
 the cities where they stay, analogous establish- 
 ments, and observe the methods and proceedings 
 which are adopted in them. Each of these youth- 
 ful cooperators may be put to such or such a ser- 
 vice, according to the direction which his studies 
 have followed, or to the profession he has em- 
 braced. Thus the commission-merchant may be 
 usefully employed in purchases, and the manu- 
 facturer in making articles of furniture. Young 
 advocates might be sent to visit prisons, and those 
 who continue to cultivate sciences and letters 
 might become superintendents of schools. 
 
 If some persons, who are accustomed to rank 
 among yain theories whatever they have not seen 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 20? 
 
 executed, and to treat as beautiful dreams all 
 views for the public good ; and discouraged by the 
 sight of the world in which they live, raise doubts 
 about the possibility of realizing the plans which 
 have just been proposed, a positive experience is 
 their answer. For some years a generous emula- 
 tion has been developed in the French youth, and 
 several honorable associations have been formed. 
 Since the creation of the saving's bank at Paris, 
 we have seen a great number of clerks of the 
 banking-houses of the capital, come and offer 
 themselves voluntarily, with laudable eagerness, 
 for book-keepers ; joyfully sacrificing their Sun- 
 day, their only leisure day, for this fatiguing toil. 
 In several of our associations for the public good, 
 we count young people in the number of sub- 
 scribers, assiduous at meetings, and ready to fulfill 
 all the commissions given them. Some young 
 people have received at Paris the office of in- 
 spectors of free schools, and have put forth such 
 zeal in the cause, that the schools under their 
 superintendence have made rapid and unlooked- 
 for progress. Some have been called to the 
 office of dispensing charity, and the poor have 
 found in them friends full of ardor for their inter- 
 ests. We see some young people who visit the 
 
208 VISITOR OF THE POOR. 
 
 hospitals of Paris, and sit down at the pillows of 
 the sick, and read to them, or talk to them edify- 
 ingly. We have seen young people visit the 
 Hotel de Dieu of Lyons, and render a kind of 
 care, which requires the conquest of much natu- 
 ral repugnance. An estimable society of young 
 men has been occupied for three years, at Paris, 
 with placing orphans in apprenticeship, and giving 
 no less care to their moral education than to their 
 industry. There is nothing good which we may 
 not expect from the generosity of this age, and the 
 enthusiasm which is peculiar to it. Let a voice 
 be raised and say, " Come, you who are the object 
 of so many affections, the source of so many 
 hopes, whom we see disputing with so much 
 ardor for academical honors, and who leap for joy 
 at receiving testimonies of satisfaction from your 
 guardians, and the encouragement of your fami- 
 lies ; you, whose young hearts beat anew, when 
 noble actions are mentioned to you ; who, in your 
 literary essays, are happy in finding an occasion to 
 express the noblest sentiments ; you, whose souls, 
 yet fresh and pure, are eager for generous emo- 
 tions ; come, we offer you celestial joys, inex- 
 haustible pleasures, and a glory so much the more 
 true, as it is free from the seductions of vanity. 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 209 
 
 You, who are happy, upon whom every thing in 
 the world and in nature smiles, come and learn to 
 compassionate and relieve ; come and be the friends 
 of misfortune, assist those good administrators 
 whom you venerate, and be the heralds of their 
 beneficence. Come and amass such treasures for 
 the rest of your life as fortune cannot take from 
 you. The sanctuary, where charity dwells to 
 console human misery, is open to you ; come and 
 carry thither your first offerings ; come and be with 
 us, second us, and begin to receive our inheritance 
 in advance. Prepare to do one day better than 
 we have done ; and may Heaven, as a reward for 
 your labors, one day give you sons who resemble 
 yourselves." 
 
 What do I say ? It is not only in the heart of 
 young men that has resounded the voice of the 
 unfortunate imploring pity ; it is not only from 
 their hands that generous aid has been received. 
 The genius of charity has raised up young girls, 
 as yet inexperienced and strangers to the world, 
 to the dignity of this noble ministry, which adopts 
 and relieves the unfortunate. Can we see, with- 
 out admiration, nearly two thousand young girls 
 put into a common stock their little savings of 
 thirty cents per month, to adopt poor children of 
 
210 Visitor of the poor* 
 
 their own age and sex, whom they place in ap- 
 prenticeship, and to whom they furnish necessary 
 articles, which each of them has the right of pre- 
 senting, when they visit them ? * Can we see, 
 without deep emotion, another very numerous 
 society of young ladies, who form also by their 
 subscriptions, under the eyes and direction, and with 
 the aid of their parents, an annual fund for pro- 
 curing clothing and garments for poor old men ; 
 and who go, guided by their mothers, to these 
 unfortunate persons, take an account of the situa- 
 tion in which they have found them, explain their 
 wants, and take charge of them ? f Touching 
 beginnings which promise a long career of good 
 actions ! Affecting homage offered to those who 
 are ready to quit life and have felt its trials, by 
 those whose hearts are open to all affections, and 
 who, without having yet experienced misfortune, 
 
 # The Society of the Young Economists. The example 
 seems to have been set by the city of Lyons, where a 
 society of this kind comprises nearly all the young ladies 
 of the city. 
 
 t The Society of Children for the Care of Old Men. A 
 venerable lady, a living model of active, enlightened, indul- 
 gent charity, has essentially contributed to this interesting 
 institution, of which we know no other example. 
 
COOPERATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE. 211 
 
 already know so well how to compassionate it ! 
 It might be called a chaplet of flowers laid upon 
 the altar of Beneficence. It is thus that the 
 sacred sentiment of humanity brings together all 
 ages and all conditions, and tends to form but one 
 single chain of humanity. Let us meditate upon 
 these examples ; they teach us where we shall 
 find amiable candidates for visitors of the poor. 
 
 THE END. 
 
fiYOU 
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