How much is conveyed in those two short words-'The Parish!' And with how many tales ofdistress and misery, of broken fortune and ruined hopes, too often of unrelieved wretchedness andsuccessful knavery, are they associated!
A poor man, with small earnings, and a large family, justmanages to live on from hand to mouth, and to procure food from day to day; he has barelysufficient to satisfy the present cravings of nature, and can take no heed of the future.
His taxes arein arrear, quarter-day passes by, another quarter-day arrives: he can procure no more quarter forhimself, and is summoned by-the parish.
His goods are distrained, his children are crying withcold and hunger, and the very bed on which his sick wife is lying, is dragged from beneathher.
What can he do? To whom is he to apply for relief? To private charity? To benevolentindividuals? Certainly not-there is his parish. There are the parish vestry, the parish infirmary, theparish surgeon, the parish officers, the parish beadle.
Excellent institutions, and gentle, kind-heartedmen.
The woman dies-she is buried by the parish. The children have no protector-they aretaken care of by the parish.
The man first neglects, and afterwards cannot obtain, work-he isrelieved by the parish; and when distress and drunkenness have done their work upon him, he ismaintained, a harmless babbling idiot, in the parish asylum.The parish beadle is one of the most, perhaps the most, important member of the localadministration.
He is not so well off as the churchwardens, certainly, nor is he so learned as thevestry-clerk, nor does he order things quite so much his own way as either of them.
But his poweris very great, notwithstanding; and the dignity of his office is never impaired by the absence ofefforts on his part to maintain it.
The beadle of our parish is a splendid fellow. It is quite delightfulto hear him, as he explains the state of the existing poor laws to the deaf old women in the boardroom passage on business nights; and to hear what he said to the senior churchwarden, and what thesenior churchwarden said to him; and what 'we' (the beadle and the other gentlemen) came to thedetermination of doing.
A miserable-looking woman is called into the boardroom, and represents acase of extreme destitution, affecting herself-a widow, with six small children. 'Where do youlive?' inquires one of the overseers. 'I rents a two-pair back, gentlemen, at Mrs. Brown's, Number 3,Little King William's-alley, which has lived there this fifteen year, and knows me to be very hardworking and industrious, and when my poor husband was alive, gentlemen, as died in thehospital'-'Well, well,' interrupts the overseer, taking a note of the address, 'I'll send Simmons, thebeadle, to-morrow morning, to ascertain whether your story is correct; and if so, I suppose you musthave an order into the House-Simmons, go to this woman's the first thing to-morrow morning,will you?' Simmons bows assent, and ushers the woman out.
Her previous admiration of 'theboard' (who all sit behind great books, and with their hats on) fades into nothing before her respectfor her lace-trimmed conductor; and her account of what has passed inside, increases-if that bepossible-the marks of respect, shown by the assembled crowd, to that solemn functionary.
As totaking out a summons, it's quite a hopeless case if Simmons attends it, on behalf of the parish.
