M. Morin, in the Memoirs of the French Academy, has formed a little
history of Poverty, which I abridge.
The writers on the genealogies of the gods have not noticed the deity of
Poverty, though admitted as such in the pagan heaven, while she has had
temples and altars on earth. The allegorical Plato has pleasingly
narrated, that at the feast which Jupiter gave on the birth of Venus,
Poverty modestly stood at the gate of the palace to gather the fragments
of the celestial banquet; when she observed the god of riches,
inebriated with nectar, roll out of the heavenly residence, and passing
into the Olympian Gardens, throw himself on a vernal bank. She seized
this opportunity to become familiar with the god. The frolicsome deity
honoured her with his caresses; and from this amour sprung the god of
Love, who resembles his father in jollity and mirth, and his mother in
his nudity. The allegory is ingenious. The union of poverty with riches
must inevitably produce the most delightful of pleasures.
The golden age, however, had but the duration of a flower; when it
finished, Poverty began to appear. The ancestors of the human race, if
they did not meet her face to face, knew her in a partial degree; the
vagrant Cain encountered her. She was firmly established in the
patriarchal age. We hear of merchants who publicly practised the
commerce of vending slaves, which indicates the utmost degree of
poverty. She is distinctly marked by Job: this holy man protests, that
he had nothing to reproach himself with respecting the poor, for he had
assisted them in their necessities.
In the scriptures, legislators paid great attention to their relief.
Moses, by his wise precautions, endeavoured to soften the rigours of
this unhappy state. The division of lands, by tribes and families; the
septennial jubilees; the regulation to bestow at the harvest-time a
certain portion of all the fruits of the earth for those families who
were in want; and the obligation of his moral law to love one's
neighbour as one's self; were so many mounds erected against the
inundations of poverty. The Jews under their Theocracy had few or no
mendicants. Their kings were unjust; and rapaciously seizing on
inheritances which were not their right, increased the numbers of the
poor. From the reign of David there were oppressive governors, who
devoured the people as their bread. It was still worse under the foreign
powers of Babylon, of Persia, and the Roman emperors. Such were the
extortions of their publicans, and the avarice of their governors, that
the number of mendicants dreadfully augmented; and it was probably for
that reason that the opulent families consecrated a tenth part of their
property for their succour, as appears in the time of the evangelists.
In the preceding ages no more was given, as their casuists assure us,
than the fortieth or thirtieth part; a custom which this singular nation
still practise. If there are no poor of their nation where they reside,
they send it to the most distant parts. The Jewish merchants make this
charity a regular charge in their transactions with each other; and at
the close of the year render an account to the poor of their nation.
By the example of Moses, the ancient legislators were taught to pay a
similar attention to the poor. Like him, they published laws respecting
the division of lands; and many ordinances were made for the benefit of
those whom fires, inundations, wars, or bad harvests had reduced to
want. Convinced that _idleness_ more inevitably introduced poverty than
any other cause, it was rigorously punished; the Egyptians made it
criminal, and no vagabonds or mendicants were suffered under any
pretence whatever. Those who were convicted of slothfulness, and still
refused to labour for the public when labour was offered to them, were
punished with death. The famous Pyramids are the works of men who
otherwise had remained vagabonds and mendicants.
The same spirit inspired Greece. Lycurgus would not have in his republic
either _poor_ or _rich_: they lived and laboured in common. As in the
present times, every family has its stores and cellars, so they had
public ones, and distributed the provisions according to the ages and
constitutions of the people. If the same regulation was not precisely
observed by the Athenians, the Corinthians, and the other people of
Greece, the same maxim existed in full force against idleness.
According to the laws of Draco, Solon, &c., a conviction of wilful
poverty was punished with the loss of life. Plato, more gentle in his
manners, would have them only banished. He calls them enemies of the
state; and pronounces as a maxim, that where there are great numbers of
mendicants, fatal revolutions will happen; for as these people have
nothing to lose, they plan opportunities to disturb the public repose.
The ancient Romans, whose universal object was the public prosperity,
were not indebted to Greece on this head. One of the principal
occupations of their censors was to keep a watch on the vagabonds. Those
who were condemned as incorrigible sluggards were sent to the mines, or
made to labour on the public edifices. The Romans of those times, unlike
the present race, did not consider the _far niente_ as an occupation;
they were convinced that their liberalities were ill-placed in bestowing
them on such men. The little republics of the _bees_ and the _ants_ were
often held out as an example; and the last particularly, where Virgil
says, that they have elected overseers who correct the sluggards:
"---- Pars agmina cogunt,
Castigantque moras."
And if we may trust the narratives of our travellers, the _beavers_
pursue this regulation more rigorously and exactly than even these
industrious societies. But their rigour, although but animals, is not so
barbarous as that of the ancient Germans; who, Tacitus informs us,
plunged the idlers and vagabonds in the thickest mire of their marshes,
and left them to perish by a kind of death which resembled their
inactive dispositions.
Yet, after all, it was not inhumanity that prompted the ancients thus
severely to chastise idleness; they were induced to it by a strict
equity, and it would be doing them injustice to suppose, that it was
thus they treated those _unfortunate poor_, whose indigence was
occasioned by infirmities, by age, or unforeseen calamities. Every
family constantly assisted its branches to save them from being reduced
to beggary; which to them appeared worse than death. The magistrates
protected those who were destitute of friends, or incapable of labour.
When Ulysses was disguised as a mendicant, and presented himself to
Eurymachus, this prince observing him, to be robust and healthy, offered
to give him employment, or otherwise to leave him to his ill fortune.
When the Roman Emperors, even in the reigns of Nero and Tiberius,
bestowed their largesses, the distributors were ordered to exempt those
from receiving a share whose bad conduct kept them in misery; for that
it was better the lazy should die with hunger than be fed in idleness.
Whether the police of the ancients was more exact, or whether they were
more attentive to practise the duties of humanity, or that slavery
served as an efficacious corrective of idleness; it clearly appears how
small was the misery, and how few the numbers of their poor. This they
did, too, without having recourse to hospitals.
At the establishment of Christianity, when the apostles commanded a
community of wealth among their disciples, the miseries of the poor
became alleviated in a greater degree. If they did not absolutely live
together, as we have seen religious orders, yet the wealthy continually
supplied their distressed brethren: but matters greatly changed under
Constantine. This prince published edicts in favour of those Christians
who had been condemned in the preceding reigns to slavery, to the mines,
to the galleys, or prisons. The church felt an inundation of prodigious
crowds of these miserable men, who brought with them urgent wants and
corporeal infirmities. The Christian families were then not numerous;
they could not satisfy these claimants. The magistrates protected them:
they built spacious hospitals, under different titles, for the sick, the
aged, the invalids, the widows, and orphans. The emperors, and the most
eminent personages, were seen in these hospitals, examining the
patients; they assisted the helpless; they dressed the wounded. This did
so much honour to the new religion, that Julian the Apostate introduced
this custom among the pagans. But the best things are continually
perverted.
These retreats were found insufficient. Many slaves, proud of the
liberty they had just recovered, looked on them as prisons; and, under
various pretexts, wandered about the country. They displayed with art
the scars of their former wounds, and exposed the imprinted marks of
their chains. They found thus a lucrative profession in begging, which
had been interdicted by the laws. The profession did not finish with
them: men of an untoward, turbulent, and licentious disposition, gladly
embraced it. It spread so wide that the succeeding emperors were obliged
to institute new laws; and individuals were allowed to seize on these
mendicants for their slaves and perpetual vassals: a powerful
preservative against this disorder. It is observed in almost every part
of the world but ours; and prevents that populace of beggary which
disgraces Europe. China presents us with a noble example. No beggars are
seen loitering in that country. All the world are occupied, even to the
blind and the lame; and only those who are incapable of labour live at
the public expense. What is done _there_ may also be performed _here_.
Instead of that hideous, importunate, idle, licentious poverty, as
pernicious to the police as to morality, we should see the poverty of
the earlier ages, humble, modest, frugal, robust, industrious, and
laborious. Then, indeed, the fable of Plato might be realised: Poverty
might be embraced by the god of Riches; and if she did not produce the
voluptuous offspring of Love, she would become the fertile mother of
Agriculture, and the ingenious parent of the Arts and Manufactures.