sensitive thing, not difficult to unbalance, especially if we are taught, as we often are, that we can depend upon others, and yet, by some juggling of language, retain our independence. Most of us probably know old labourers in the country and elsewhere whose great and legitimate pride it is that they have never had to apply to the parish for anything. They have no illusions on the subject. The same feeling is strong amongst members of the great friendly societies.
Pauperism, be it remembered, is not necessarily connected with vice and drunkenness as is too often assumed. Its commonest form is an indefinite weakening of character, a dulling of spirit, a sort of lowering of pitch, to which the very poor and those to whom life is hard are necessarily the most subject. It comes disguised in all sorts of garbs and sweetened with all kinds of relishes. Many roads, broad and easy, lead down to it, whilst the upward path is narrow and steep. The best defence against it is the armour of self-respect, a real self-respect which is not to be cheated out of itself by the subtleties of modern logicians.
Next to the increase of payment for labour, and the growth of the spirit of self-maintenance, we believe in the growth of the spirit of real charity. As the first two conditions fulfil themselves more and more, so will the problem that has to be dealt with by charity simplify itself, and charity will become more capable of effecting its purpose. The different sorts of charity have been already glanced at. The most important, though the least recognised, is that which has been designated as "natural" charity—the charity, that is to say, of those who know and respect one another. But imagined possibilities of State relief are directly antagonistic to that charity, as we have already seen. We shall be told that it is hard to ask children to support
