rich, let those bear testimony who have
constantly, from the nature of their occupation, the
unhappiness to witness it. The evil influences
which are here pointed out are seldom to be
charged on the administration of the poor-law.
Perhaps no system is more zealously worked by
its well-paid, its ill-paid, and its unpaid staff.
The defect is one of principle.

Compare the work done by the small farmer
nearest to the labourer in station, with that of
the farm-labourer himself. The farmer works
from early morning until night, and often for some
hours into the night. Sunday is not an idle day
with him; he may begin an hour or so later on
that morning, but his stable must be cleaned,
his cows must be milked, and all the ordinary
and daily routine performed, that is indispensable
to the care and nourishment of animal life. He
nevertheless "gets round," as he calls it, by
church-time, where he generally attends morning
service with his wife and some members of his
family, all neatly and substantially clothed. In
the evening he has his duties to attend to, after
which there is a little leisure for him. Next
morning, his lantern may be seen twinkling in
his cow-shed long before the dawn. He is at
work all day, and, except the time required for
market, and an occasional visit at the publichouse
to hear the news, he works early and late
throughout the whole week. His little stock is
a cause of constant anxiety to him. The sheep
on the distant moor must be daily visited; his
foal, it is ten chances to one, will injure itself
before it is fit for breaking in; his cows, and
calves, and pigs, are at least as subject to
the prevalent epidemic diseases, and to the
mishaps incidental to stock, as those of his
landlord. What, then, is his scale of remuneration?
"Something large, doubtless," the
amateur farmer of four acres replies— "sufficient to
secure him comfortable independence." Would
that it were so! We have known cases in which
the loss of a cow by disease, the accident in the
fold, badness of seed or season, has so crippled
the industrious small farmer, that years of
self-denying toil were necessary before the little loss
could be replaced. To the labourer (unless he
be shepherd or wagoner, when higher wages are
paid), the whole of Sunday is a holiday. On
week days in summer, his work is very little, if at
all, in excess of ten hours' out-door labour; his
great hardship comes through a poor-law,
mercifully modified by the Irremovable Poor Act of
last session, which, by its operation on ratepayers,
forces him often to reside far from his place of
work, and adds a useless six or eight miles
walk to a day's bodily exertion. In winter, he
works during daylight. In this regular time
for labour, free from care of its own too, he
earns a day's wages: certain though
sometimes too small. The little farmer pays his way
as well as he can, pays his rates, undertakes the
duties which devolve upon him as a resident of his
parish, and never parades his losses, unless when
he pays his tithe. Then he does it
constitutionally and periodically. But the other often
considers himself an ill-used hard-worked
individual, whose best friend is pauper relief; casual
now, permanent hereafter.

  And yet, in many cases, independence is within
his power. As the world goes, what can he
do? The notion of a co-operative society has
not yet reached the agricultural poor. And
the savings banks, much as they deserve to
make their way among them, have not done so.
The friendly society, however, in one form or
another, solvent in a few cases, insolvent in the
many, has gained a firm hold on their regard.
We only take things as they are. Even with
our present safe clubs, which are on the
increase, the farm-labourer may join a society
which, in his illness or at his death, will secure
the benefit it professes to secure, and thus place
him (except when under special distress) above
the want of relief as a pauper.

The actual state of the friendly society common
among the rural poor, will require particular
notice.

A little benefit club is to be found in almost
every parish where there are fifty or sixty
labourers. It is seldom solvent, even when
certified by the registrar; but this consideration has
never been found to prevent its receiving fresh
members, and being able to keep larger and
better societies almost entirely out of the field,
it will be borne in mind that the benefit club
is the poor man's adaptation of the principles of
life and sickness assurance, to his own particular
requirements. It is the refuge in times of
distress, built by the person destined to fly to it,
and deserves commendation for the ingenious
contrivances resorted to in its construction, even
where it is unsound. Diverted by the conditions
of poor-rate relief from the necessity of saving
money, the farm-labourer joins the sharing-out
club, which is to be his part provision for a time
of sickness. The club-meetings are usually held
at the public-house, and affairs are principally
managed by the landlord; sometimes, says Mr.
Tidd Pratt, "the club is sold with the good will
of the house." These friendly or benefit
societies demand particular attention; they are
contrived to secure the advantages of the
provident society without abandoning the claim on
the poor-rate.

The Brummagem Clubs (we guess this to be
Mr. Tidd Pratt's meaning, when he speaks of
"Birmingham Societies") are paid for on the
principle "that a halfpenny a week from each
member will secure one shilling a week to a
sick member for a term of months: with a
reduced allowance subsequently, called half-pay."

Every member pays alike. There are usually
two or three middle-aged men who, it is alleged,
give the younger men the benefit of their
experience. They are, to some extent, associated
with the landlord in the management of such a
club.

Every member joining is obliged to declare,
to the best of his knowledge, whether he has
any disease or ailment of a kind likely to throw
him on the club. This is a verbal declaration,
and, if subsequent events prove it to be false,
the member is excluded and forfeits all benefit