Mr. John Stuart Mill well observes, that the state cannot undertake to discriminate between the deserving and the undeserving indigent. It owes no more than subsistence to the first, and can give no less to the last. Since it must provide subsistence for the criminal poor while undergoing punishment, not to do the same for the poor—who have not offended is to give a premium to crime. Guardians and overseers are not fit to be trusted to give or withhold other people's money according to their verdict on the morality of the person soliciting it, and it would show much ignorance of the ways of mankind to suppose that such persons, even in the almost impossible case of their being qualified, will take the trouble of ascertaining and sifting the past conduct of a person in distress, so as to form a rational judgment on it. Private charity can make these distinctions, and, in bestowing its own money, is entitled to do so according to its own judgment.
It is admitted to be right that human beings should help one another; and the more so in proportion to the urgency of the need. In all cases of helping, we distinguish the consequences of the assistance itself, and the consequences of relying on the assistance. The former are generally beneficial, but the latter for the most part injurious; so much so, in many cases, as greatly to outweigh the value of the benefit. There are few things more mischievous than that people should rely on the habitual aid of others for the means of subsistence, and unhappily there is no lesson which they more easily learn. The problem to be solved is, how to give the greatest amount of needful help with the smallest encouragement to undue reliance on it. Energy and self-dependence are, however, liable to be impaired by the absence of help as well as by its excess. It is even more fatal to exertion to have no hope of succeeding by it than to be assured of succeeding without it. When the condition of any one is so disastrous that his energies are paralyzed by discouragement, assistance is a tonic, not a sedative. It braces instead of deadening the active faculties, always provided that the assistance is not such as to dispense with self-help by substituting itself for the person's own labor, skill, and prudence, but is limited to affording him a better hope of attaining success by those legitimate means. This accordingly is a test to which all plans of philanthropy should be brought, whether intended for the benefit of individuals or of classes, and whether conducted on the voluntary or the government principle.
Overlooking the spiritual forces which religious charity brings to bear in elevating the moral tone of character, Mr. Mill finds the foregoing principles well applied by the English Poor-Law of 1834, because, while it prevents any person, except by his own choice, from dying of hunger, it leaves their condition as much as possible below that of the poorest who find support for themselves. Mr. Mill's logic here seems to arrive at the reductio ad absurdum; for the state of these poorest of the working poor, whom pride forbids to claim pauper relief, is too distressing for charity, acting only below that level, to be of any avail. Usually inclined to the most liberal and humane views, Mr. Mill has here given way to a Protestant prejudice, which regards as ill-advised the more whole-souled Catholic style of charity. The following extract from De Vere's work shows the contrast, and affords a good answer to this overcautiousness about doing too much. All depends upon the spirit in which charity is bestowed; it should be cordial, not humiliating and distressing:
"Most of the Sisters are from the class of servants and needle-women; but there are many who, having been brought up to enjoy all the comforts and even elegances of life, have willingly renounced all to make themselves the humblest servants of the poor, to wash, and cook, and beg for those who have been beggars all their lives. The secret of all this lies in this, that the Sisters see, in their poor, Jesus Christ himself, to wait on whom must be their highest glory. From this, then, springs the most delightful interchange of feeling between the Sisters and their pensioners; for these poor people reverence with the liveliest gratitude those who seem to them as the angels of God sent to redeem them from all their misery and wretchedness, to comfort their bodies, and enlighten their souls. The change wrought in the old people after they have been with the Sisters a little while, is said to be most remarkable. From being fractious, complaining, and idle, they grow cheerful and contented in the highest degree, and every one is anxious to do something to contribute to the common stock. 'Our houses, our Sisters,' they say—a type of the perfect union which reigns amongst them. Everything is done by the Sisters to cultivate a spirit of cheerfulness; they are treated as children, and every opportunity is embraced of making them a little festival. The beautiful simplicity of childhood seems to return in all its fulness to these poor creatures, whose lives have been spent in vice and misery. From a state approaching to brutality, they revive even to gayety. Well may they say as they do, 'We never were happy until we came here.' On great occasions they sing and dance, and the Sisters join with them. When the anniversary of the house of Rouen was lately celebrated, the old woman who had been the first pensioner was crowned as the queen of the day, and her lowly seat decked with flowers, whilst her aged companions cheered her with the heartiest good will.
"The tender regard with which the Sisters cherish the poor on whom they wait, calls forth the best feelings of their hearts, so long dead to every human charity. They respond by the most refreshing cordiality; but truly hearts could not resist the winning kindness with which they are invariably treated. One little incident may illustrate how above all selfish considerations the law of kindness prevails: One old woman was anxious to be received among the 'Little Sisters' somewhere in France. Her case well deserved the privilege, but the old woman insisted on bringing also into the house her hen and her sparrow. Without these companions, she would not enter; she would rather forego the advantage offered to her. The old woman, her hen, and her sparrow were all admitted together, anything rather than lose an opportunity of doing good.
"Selfishness cannot long exist where such examples of self-denial are ever present in these Sisters. They take the worst of everything for themselves. Even in the longest established houses there are no chairs except for the old people; the Sisters 'sit upon their heels.' A Jesuit father, on one day visiting one of the houses, found the Sisters just sitting down to dinner. They had nothing to drink out of but odd and broken vessels, mustard-pots, jam-pots, etc.; all in such a dilapidated condition that the good father hastened off the very first penitent, who came to him for confession, with an injunction to buy a dozen of glasses and send them to the house of his 'Petites Sceurs.' Such is their voluntary poverty!
"Every time a house is opened, so soon as a sufficient number of poor are collected, a retreat is preached. The fruits of these retreats, in those who have been so long absent from the sacraments, is wonderful. Thus the house is furnished with those who serve to set a good example to all those who are afterward admitted.
"Nothing can exceed the gratitude of these poor creatures when reconciled with God. They embrace the Sisters with tears. 'It is seventy-five years since I drew near to God,' said one; 'and now I am going to receive him to-morrow.' A poor barber who had lost the use of his hands through rheumatism, and, being unable to exercise his profession, had fallen into such a state of destitution that he was thankful to accept an asylum in one of the houses of the 'Little Sisters,' was observed, after his confession, to be looking at his hands. 'What are you doing?' was asked of him. 'I am looking at the finger of God,' he replied. This spirit of resignation and gratitude is nearly universal, and the Sisters are not without their consolation even in this world."
To the special ministry of the Sisterhoods of Charity have been assigned the sick, infirm, and aged poor, whom all regard as proper objects of relief and pious care. We have shown, in our October number, how well they satisfied alike the Christian and the economic need. Mrs. Jameson, in the work there referred to, [Footnote 273] has strongly contrasted the conditions of the "English workhouse system" (which is the same as ours) with the religious management not only of the sick-poor, but also of the criminal and most degraded classes. Take, for instance, the Austrian prison at Neudorf. This prison is an experiment which as yet had only had a three years' trial when Mrs. Jameson visited it, but had already succeeded so well, both morally and economically, that the Austrian government was preparing to organize eleven others on the same plan. It began by the efforts of two humane ladies to find a refuge for those wretched creatures of their own sex who, after undergoing their term of punishment, were cast out of the prisons. They obtained the aid of two Sisters of a religious order in France, devoted to the reformation of lost and depraved women. Government soon enlarged their sphere of action, and confided to them the administration of a prison, penitentiary, and hospital, with several buildings and a large garden.