On my first visit to a large London workhouse many years ago, I was struck by the hopeless and depressing character of the institution, though at that time a kind and excellent master and matron superintended it. They willingly accepted my offer to go again to visit a poor sick woman to whom I had spoken, and from that time I resolved to do something, if possible, to mend such a state of things. To obtain visitors to the neglected inmates, especially to the ignorant and miserable women, seemed the first and most obvious remedy, and this point has remained my chief object ever since, though five years' endeavours have not succeeded in removing the obstacles to this plan. I cannot further trace the various steps by which the subject has advanced to the present time, when considerable attention is directed towards it. In Parliament it has found some sympathy, and it is now brought before a meeting, the aim and object of which is to discuss the most important questions relating to social science, and from the deliberations of which we may look for great results.
It may be a fact to be lamented that there should be so large a proportion of our countrymen and women who are compelled to resort to charity for assistance, and even maintenance. But if it is a fact, the only question is how to deal with it, so that it should not become still more lamentable by the manner in which it is treated. "The workhouse" has become a by-word for all that is degraded, scorned, and outcast, and seems to imply a loss of self-respect in every one belonging to it. The humblest school-boy and girl look down upon the "workhouse" child. The poorest women object to certain kinds of clothing for their children, because it is like the "workhouse dress." Some persons think this all very right, and desirable that it should be so. It seems to me a great evil, and to imply blame to us in some way that 600,000 persons should be living in a condition which has this sort of feeling attached to it. Is it because it is a crime in itself to be poor, or because the way in which we treat poverty has led persons to think it so? Or is it because we relieve those who do not need or deserve relief, and so have continually the feeling that we are imposed upon? It is only from some such reason that I can account for the very prevalent state of feeling with regard to workhouses and their inmates. The simple fact that every country has, ever has had, and I suppose ever must have, a certain portion of poor, helpless and unable to maintain themselves from a variety of causes, is surely too widely acknowledged to be doubted. If so, the fact is equally clear that they must be helped. And we do help them, it is true, and boast of the system by which no one in this Christian land can die of want. I may mention here, however, that I believe no winter ever passes without our reading in the papers that there are
