what seems to be the instinct of officials as well
as ostriches, the departmental head is pushed
eagerly into the sand. Never root out or care
about an evil you can hide; always consider the
traditions of your department before your duty
to the public, and regard as  our natural enemies
the people who do aught to disturb the serene
routine you love. Such has been the unwritten
code which every poor-law ofiicer has been
called upon to obey, and under which paupers
have died miserably, and guardians run riot.
The defective controlling power of the central
authority was made the plea for its being utterly
useless as a protection against parochial abuses;
and neither president, parliament, nor public
opinion has been hitherto strong enough to
struggle with the passive obstructiveness of the
permanent officials who are in reality the Board.

Let us suppose this department to be presided
over by a statesman of experience, whose name
is associated with some of the most beneficial
reforms of the day, and who commenced his
public life by fighting the people's battle against
the patrician phalanx he had left. Let us
endow this statesman with great sensitiveness,
a keen intellect, and a strong will, and then let
us ask how it is that such a man has been made
to appear indifferent or callous to the sufferings
of the poor? Peer a little below the surface,
and we find the jealousies and opposition of a
handful of red-tape subordinates to be at the
root of the anomaly; and that their mischievous
power for evil has impeded the usefulness of one
whom all the influence of the would-be
conservators of the corn-laws failed to daunt.

The more intelligent of parish guardians
admit the unworthiness of the local assemblies
on which they sit, and are anxious for
properly constituted advice and control in the
emergencies constantly arising. The typical
guardian—the fellow of coarse mind, low
habits, and doubtful honour; the pot-house
orator who, ignorant of self-restraint, rounds
blatant periods on the sacred principle of
self-government; the hard, narrow, cruel
nature which regards a pauper as an offensive
reptile, with a capacity for eating and drinking
"at this 'ere parish's expense;" and the plausible,
shallow word-monger, who conceals the
most rapacious instincts under a flux of verbiage
—all these men tremble at the prospect of losing
the power for evil they have exercised so long.
"'Ow they've been a 'ritin' of us down, sir!" was
the greeting of the respected chairman of an
East-end Board of Guardians, when alluding in
my presence to comments publicly passed on
his refusing shelter to the houseless. " This
'ere's a question of money; it's money, money,
money; humanity to the poor, interest in the
sick! 'Umbug, gentlemen, umbug! They want
to take the power out of our 'ands and put it
into their own, that's where it is," formed the
peroration of a speech I heard delivered at St.
James's Hall. Indiscriminate abuse had been
poured on every one known to object to
the summary and cruel slaughter of sick
paupers. Medical men of position, ladies
through whose disinterested efforts the last
moments of the dying had been soothed, ministers
of religion, legislators, and journalists, all
fell under the ban. But the chief vial of this
windy wrath was reserved for an officer of the
Poor-law Department, who had presumed to
regard " inspection" as a serious duty instead of
an official farce. Insulting comparisons were
drawn between his conduct and the representative
of routine who accompanied him on his last
official rounds; his motives were impugned and
his opinions scoffed at; while by an ingenious
and highly honourable device it was sought to
convict him of the unpardonable sin of bringing
discredit upon parochial management.

When the Workhouse Infirmary Association*
was in course of formation, Mr. H. B. Farnall,
the metropolitan inspector of workhouses under
the Board, was invited to meet its promoters
privately, and to corroborate or refute facts
already in their possession. It is to the honour
of Mr. Villiers, the then president of the
Poor-law Board, that he gave his ready
acquiescence; and on a given day Mr. Farnall
made a brief statement on the stipulation
that it should only reach members of the
association, and as a matter of official etiquette
be considered private and confidential so far as
its origin was concerned. Mark the exquisite
working of the best of all possible government
offices! The cabinet minister who was responsible
in parliament for the department he ruled
over, and the official whose life was spent in
a vain struggle against flagrant abuses,
determined to perform a public duty out of the
circle of routine. But the official traditions
were against this perfectly original proceeding,
and the official wrath showed itself by coalescing
with the guardians. The honorary secretary of
the association was favoured by a visit, a few
days afterwards, from a polite gentleman who
announced himself as from the Poor-law Board,
and who asked for a copy of Mr. Farnall' s statement
for a gentleman high in office there, who
"takes a great interest in this subject, and who
wishes to help the association's benevolent
efforts." A copy was parted with unsuspiciously,
and was, according to preconcerted
arrangement, promptly handed to an irate
guardian, who had it printed and given away as
a handbill in the streets. Every one of the
damning facts it contained was to be found in
the published blue books, but it was their being
given in a succinct form to the philanthropic
people working for reform that constituted Mr.
Farnall's offence. No attempt was made to
disprove his statements. It was not only the
so-called violation of official confidence, but
real desire to aid others in effecting good,
which made Mr. Farnall and Mr. Villiers
unpopular. The parochial irritation ended
for the moment in silly insolence of speech;
but the outraged department bided its time,
and has had full revenge. Mr. Earnall had
already made enemies through studying the

* See THE NEW HUMANE SOCIETY, vol. xv., p. 177.