We have on several occasions called attention to the Power of Draw.
It is a force which for good as well as for evil pervades the whole
social system. Every centre of industry exerts this attractive force by
drawing to it large numbers of persons for the sake of employment, and
so far the Draw acts beneficially. All our large towns are in no small
degree made up of individuals who have drifted thither in the hope of
exercising their abilities for their own and the public advantage. This
is exactly as it should be. The world is open to everybody. It is only
a truism to say that by the Power of Draw the uttermost ends of the
earth are peopled.
Unfortunately, this subtle power in its pervading energy is not limited
to the industrious and well-disposed. It is acutely demonstrated by all
who are looking about for the means of indulging in a life of idleness
at the cost of others. The disposition to abstain from useful labour
and to depend less or more on gratuitous benefactions, has been largely
encouraged by mistaken views of what is ordinarily called charity. The
poor—no matter how they happen to be poor—have been extolled as if they
were superior beings, to whom all must contribute as one of the noblest
of virtues. With perverted notions of this kind, society has for ages
done everything in its power to consecrate and encourage poverty, and
no wonder it has attained to stupendous dimensions. Early injunctions
to give all to the poor were followed by the piously inconsiderate and
wide-sweeping benefactions of the monasteries. These in their turn
were followed by the statutory obligations of the poor-laws. And now
there is superadded a system of voluntary contribution so extensive and
varied as to dominate the soundest principles of political economy, and
which in its general working amounts to a kind of communism. By every
large city, arrangements are organised to succour every human need and
infirmity. Those who do not find it agreeable to work will be fed—the
feeding, perhaps, not being what all would like, but pretty well as
a make-shift. For every species of ailment, from a broken leg to
diseased lungs, there is adequate provision. The cultivation of thrift
and self-respect not to be thought of. Bad as things seem to have been
in the palmy days of the monasteries, they are now in some quarters
ten times worse. While one set of people are slaving between death and
life, another set, determined to take their ease, keep hovering on the
verge of that agreeable category the poor, and so contrive to lead a
jolly sort of existence.
Not that the so-called poor profess to be pure idlers. For decency’s
sake, they occasionally work a little, and enjoy the commiseration
of suffering from the severity of winter, or from the commercial
depression arising from ‘bad times.’ On such occasions the Power
of Draw increases in intensity; and now are offered favourable
opportunities for tender-hearted individuals to take a lead in
establishing soup-kitchens, or benefactions thought to be equally
creditable. It is melancholy to consider how at times like these, so
little real good is done in comparison with the amount of harm. We see,
more particularly as regards the young, the degree of suffering that
is presently assuaged, but take no account of the mischief incurred
by adding to the general demoralisation. While philanthropists are
fondly imagining that they are doing much good, they are very probably
adding fresh accumulations to the already overgrown mass of misery and
crime. Not more surely do hens run to the heap, than do the thriftless
and semi-pauperised instinctively flock towards places where there is
an inconsiderately lavish distribution of charity. We never hear of a
soup-kitchen being set up, under however careful an administration,
without saying: ‘There goes a distinct increase to the Power of Draw.’
The injury done by systems of profuse charity has been frequently
pointed out, but we have seen nothing so effective and convincing
on the subject as a paper read by Mr Brace at the American Social
Science Congress of May 1874, of which a copious abstract is given by
a correspondent in _The Times_, of January 24, in the present year.
We think it may serve a good purpose to present our readers with a few
facts from this interesting paper.
Referring to a serious depression in trade which threw large
numbers of persons out of work in New York, plans were devised for
giving temporary support to the necessitous; the result being that
an encouragement was held out to idleness and improvidence. ‘The
experience of New York in 1857’ (says Mr Brace), ‘and of Boston and
other cities since that date, proves that the soup-kitchen charity
only creates pauperism. Despite the warning of the experienced,
soup-kitchens and free lodgings were opened by public and private
means, with the utmost liberality, in various portions of New York
last winter, and enormous sums were contributed by private citizens
for these popular benefactions. Before the winter was over, however,
most of those engaged in them regretted, without doubt, that they had
ever taken part in these kindly but mistaken charities. The reports
of competent observers shew what were their effects. The announcement
of the intended opening of these and kindred charities immediately
called into the city the floating vagrants, beggars, and paupers who
wander from village to village throughout the state. The streets of
New York became thronged with this ragged, needy crowd; they filled
all the station-houses and lodging-places provided by private charity,
and overflowed into the island almshouses. Street-begging to the point
of importunity became a custom. Ladies were robbed even on their own
door-steps by these mendicants. Petty offences such as thieving and
drunkenness increased. One of the free lodgings in the upper part of
the city established by the Commissioners of Charities became a public
nuisance from its rowdyism and criminality.
Nor would these paupers work. On one occasion, the almshouse
authorities were discharging a band of able-bodied paupers, and having
need of some light outdoor labour on the island, they offered these men
what is thought good country wages—that is, fifteen dollars a month
and board. They unanimously refused, preferring the free lodgings
and free lunches of the city.’ Then, he adds, came the attractive
power—the Power of Draw. ‘Tramps came hurrying to the feast of
charity, honest and hard-working labouring men from every part of the
neighbouring country. Farms in the state of New York were left stripped
of labourers, though the farmers offered good wages. Working-men came
from as far away as Pittsburg and Boston, partly, no doubt, to see the
sights of New York, but hoping also for aid from public and private
charities. In some cases, young men were arrested in criminal houses,
who made their headquarters in these soup-kitchens or relief-houses,
and then sallied out to enjoy the criminal indulgences of the city.
The pauperising influences, however, of this indiscriminate charity
reached beyond these classes. Poor families abandoned steady industry,
got their meals at the soup-kitchens, and spent the day in going from
one charitable organisation to another. Those experienced with this
class report that such people acquire a “Micawber” habit of depending
on chances, and seldom return to constant work again. Instances were
known of families taking their meals from the Relief Association and
spending the money set aside for this daily in liquor, so that, in the
poorest quarters the liquor-trade was never so prosperous. A singular
effect was also produced on the class of homeless girls. Many avoided
the houses where charity was connected with work, and obtained their
meals at the free-lunch places, and then lodged in the low cheap
lodging-houses, where their habits were uncontrolled and they could
wander the streets at night. Many were thus enticed into ruin.
But another class now felt the pauperising influence of this charity,
one which had never stooped to public alms before, the mechanics and
artisans. These were not driven by the severest poverty. They had
been in receipt of good wages, and had much money laid up in the
savings-banks. They contributed through the winter large sums to
various strikes and labour unions. The best proof that they were not
pressed by poverty is that never once did they lower their demand for
wages in any branch of industry. The most ignorant job-work, as for
instance a man’s labour in moving, was fifty cents an hour. Few would
even clean snow from a side-walk or cut or saw wood or carry burdens
for less than at the rate of two to two and a half dollars per diem.
Mechanics still demanded from three to five dollars per diem. It was
notorious that important trades, such as the building-trade, were at
a standstill on account of high wages, and that the employing class
could not afford to pay such high rates. Yet no wages came down.
Labour was in struggle with capital against a lowering of prices.
Charity assisted labour in the combat. The soup-kitchens and relief
associations of various names became thronged with mechanics. Some of
the best working-men in the city ate and lodged at the public expense.
Thousands of able-bodied artisans, young and skilful, were fed by alms.
The idleness and dependence injured many among them irretrievably.
The whole settlement of the labour question was postponed by the
over-generous charity of the city, and spring came upon the mechanical
class without a revival of trade, which might have come if misguided
kindness had not supported them in this struggle.
These benevolent institutions also interfered with many kinds of
legitimate business. Thus in one ward, the eleventh, a number of
small eating-house keepers, who had made an honest living by their
occupation, were almost thrown into bankruptcy by the competition
of certain soup-kitchens established by religious associations. A
similar thing occurred in other wards. In one district also, a keeper
of a laundry who had ten or twelve girls in his employment at good
wages, found himself stripped of his help in the midst of the winter,
these women preferring to live for nothing in the free lodgings. He
accordingly was compelled to advertise for help, but without success,
and was ultimately obliged to close his laundry.
It had been expected that this industrial crisis would bring down the
wages of female servants, since these had remained at a high rate,
though all other prices had fallen. The superintendent of the Free
Labour Bureau, however, stated that during all this distress, the poor
girls who came to his office could not be induced to take situations
for less than from fourteen to twenty dollars per month, and said that
they preferred to live at the charitable institutions until they could
get such wages as they chose. It is well known that the wages of female
labour have been as high this winter as at any time since the war.
One of the free dormitories for women was, in fact, broken up by its
coming to the knowledge of the directresses that a lady on one occasion
offered each lodger a situation in a good family at ten dollars per
month, and not one of these “victims of poverty” could be found who
would accept the place on the terms.’
One way and another an injury was done through these pauperising
influences which is even now scarcely remedied. The drawing of large
numbers into the vortex of charity was in all respects inexcusable;
for if the heedlessly benevolent had let matters alone, the more
necessitous would have found remunerative work in quarters where labour
was specially in demand. It should never be forgotten that there
is a principle of readjustment in labour which tends to cure local
disorganisations. What philanthropists have to do on pressing occasions
like those mentioned is to interpose no distracting element, such as
the temptation of free soup-kitchens, and to facilitate removal to
spots where industry can be advantageously exercised.
In all the large cities in Great Britain we are acquainted with, there
are antiquated semi-ruinous buildings in the alleys behind the main
thoroughfares, which were at one time occupied by the affluent classes,
but are now sunk to the condition of resorts for the idle, the drunken,
and the dissolute, who habitually prey on society, and are a torment to
the public authorities. Attempts to root out these dens of infamy and
disease encounter a resolute opposition from those who from usurious
motives have become the proprietors of such places, and more especially
does opposition come from ratepayers who are shocked at the prospect
of paying some trifle annually in the shape of an improvement tax.
Antiquaries who have a morbid fancy for old houses which will scarcely
hold together, and are as dark and unwholesome as dungeons, also have
their howl. So that it is usually no easy matter to procure legislative
authority to put our towns generally on a decent footing.
Let it be specially noted that narrow dingy lanes are the centres of
nearly all that is degrading in towns whether large or small. The idle
and dissolute do not approve of living in the face of day. They prefer
to nestle in groups behind-backs, as being there less likely to incur
observation. It is consistent with all experience that just as a town
abounds in narrow lanes, it abounds in pauperism and every species
of iniquity. Clear away your lanes, and you correspondingly lessen
the number of the dangerous classes. Every town, of course, must have
dwellings suitable for the less affluent in the community, but in some
way or other let all come to the front. In England, the behind-backs
‘slums’ we speak of are known as courts, in Scotland they are called
closes; but whatever be their generic designation, they are a nuisance
and a scandal, for they draw towards them, by under-currents of
intelligence, the dregs of the population from all parts of the United
Kingdom. Obviously, the attraction is intensified by the succours of
one sort or other offered by public charities. What with holes and
corners to creep into out of sight, and with the chance of coming in
for a share of profuse benevolences, the Draw is complete.
A number of years ago, when at the head of a city municipality, we
made a fair attempt, by legislative measures, to sweep away the worst
class of closes, substituting for them open thoroughfares, and likewise
endeavoured to put the public charities on a reasonably comprehensive
footing. The degree of success was moderate. From the prevalence of
narrow views, the ‘Improvement Act’ was so materially restricted as
to convey the impression that, by ordinary forms of procedure, in
which loquacious and popularity hunting agitators have their say, the
improvement of towns on a scale consistent with enlarged principles
of sanitary and social economy is barely practicable. In vain you
say of any special improvement that it would clear away the haunts
of the disreputable, and at the same time lower the mortality to the
extent of eight or ten per thousand annually. What is a lowering of
the death-rate in comparison with the obligation to pay an additional
rate of a penny per pound? Let things alone. The inertia of systematic
obstruction accordingly prevails.
Curiously enough, as we speedily discovered, there are vested interests
in charities. Each species of benevolence possesses an administrative
organisation of chairmen, secretaries, collectors, and so forth, who
with an affection for use and wont, do not readily perceive how there
can be any advantage in a combination of distributive bodies. If you
throw twelve separate charities into one, the officials connected with
the eleven that are set aside will necessarily suffer extinction.
There is a more cogent argument. Twelve collectors, each with his
separate book, have a better chance of screwing money from householders
than one solitary collector. Besides, there are peculiar fancies
to be operated on. Some will contribute to Dispensaries, who could
not be wheedled into subscribing for the support of a Soup-kitchen
or the distribution of coals. Collectors, like sportsmen, know the
bird they can bring down. In these circumstances, all that came out
of our poor effort at combining charities was the establishment of
another administrative body with the function of being a check on all
descriptions of applicants. That this ‘Association for Improving the
Condition of the Poor,’ has done some good by arresting promiscuous
charity, is we believe generally allowed. On a similar plan there
has been established in the metropolis, a ‘Society for organising
Charitable Relief and Repressing Mendicity,’ which we understand is
working advantageously. It is indeed chiefly by the rigid scrutiny
which is so organised, that the deserving poor can be properly aided
and the worthless repressed. On the public at large, however, rests
the responsibility of ridding towns of their hosts of roughs and
on-hangers; for so long as mean haunts in obscure courts and closes
are suffered to exist, and while people indiscriminately yield to
importunities, so long will be freely exercised the Power of Draw.