But, of course, a number are persons of straitened means; many are flying from want. What little they can scrape together is consumed in the expense of removal from home, the cost of the outfit and passage, and their establishment here. There is no margin for accidents. If they miscarry in their adventure; if, on getting here, they fail to meet the relatives and friends who have encouraged them to come over; if they want the energy required for a new country; if they want self-control to resist the temptations of cheap indulgence; above all, if health fails them, they drop at once into dependence. If they keep up the semblance of a household, the main resource is too often the dismal basket which we see going round the streets on the arms of the unhappy children, devoted, almost from the cradle, to this wretched industry; and, if this resource fails, the almshouse is too often the only substitute. I suppose that it is in this way that the chief increase of pauperism, induced by immigration, takes place.

I am aware that it is not the only way. An impression exists, founded, I fear, in fact, but, I trust for the honor of humanity, somewhat exaggerated, that a practice prevails in some parts of Europe, especially in England and Ireland, of carrying on a transportation of what may be called professed pauperism at public expense. The almshouses are emptied of their inmates, not excepting poor lunatics, who are thrown, without remorse, upon the United States. Such a practice I should regard as little better than highway robbery, or piracy upon the high seas; but I cannot think it exists to any considerable extent.

We must not infer its existence from the considerable number of paupers that are found in the train of immigration. Society in Europe consists of a gradation, of which, except from description, we know but little here,-from heights of fortune almost fabulous, to depths of misery more profound than any of which we have much experience. The line is difficult to be drawn between the classes adjacent to each other. Whenever the population is in excess, and the ablebodied men cannot always find work, and the wages of labor for

those who do are barely sufficient to keep soul and body to-gether, by the side of the class which crowds the almshouse, there is a still more numerous class of kindred and friends that hardly keep out of it. Of those whom we call pauperimmigrants, many, no doubt, have been helped to come to this country by relations and friends who stand a step above them in the social scale, who have found their way to America, and sent back their first earnings to help their weaker brethren to the land of promise. If some of these should relapse into the state of dependence here, to which they have been accustomed at home, we can hardly complain, that, in taking so much of the labor, skilled and unskilled, of the healthy, industrious, and serviceable portion of the community, we should have to take at the same time a share of its infirmity and want. With the stout and vigorous who are able and willing to work, who bring with them what we most want, strong hands to cultivate our boundless wastes of fertile land, and to aid us in the great constructions necessary for the development of the natural resources of the country, we must not murmur if there is also poured in upon us no inconsiderable amount of dependent and often helpless unthrift, and poverty.

This is in the nature of human things, and is not to be complained of. The difficulty is that the increase of immigration has been so great and rapid, that, at first, the provisions to receive and dispose of it are inadequate. The old standing laws, which did very well for two hundred years, do not meet the new exigencies. The resources of public and private benevolence are heavily burdened; and when the best has been done, no very great impression seems to have been made on the mass of suffering. Too many mendicants swarm in our streets; and our hospitals, almshouses, and lunatic asylums are crowded with the misery of Europe.

These are, no doubt, unwelcome facts, and, if belonging to a state of things likely to be permanent, calculated at first to produce discouragement, and even alarm. I cannot deny that, at times, I have so regarded them; but upon the whole I think there is no ground for apprehension. We may be

somewhat incommoded; but I do not believe the framework of society among us is going to be broken down, or seriously shaken. There is land enough in America for the inhabitants of all Europe, if they choose to come here; and the tide will no doubt continue to flow till the old world is relieved of its superabundant population, and the inducements to emigrate are outweighed by the restoration of a healthier state of things at home.

In the mean time we must make the best of what is not to be avoided. We must first, by judicious legislation on the part of Congress or the separate States, (and if Congress will not give us the requisite laws, the States must do the best they can for themselves,) endeavor to alleviate the burden which is so suddenly cast upon us. It is fair and just that immigration to a certain extent should be a self-supporting operation. The vigorous and healthy portion of it, who enter immediately into the enjoyment of the great advantages which the country holds out to all who choose to come to it, should bear a proportionate part of the burden of the pauperism that comes with them. This is a result which can be brought about without difficulty and without hardship by judicious laws steadily executed. It is, I am persuaded, owing principally to the novelty of the existing state of things, to the want of experience, the want of time, and the difficulty of getting any matter of business through Congress, that the relations of foreign pauperism have remained so long in an unsatisfactory state.

Still, however, when all has been done that can be accomplished by the authority of Congress, the State government, or that of the city, the legitimate sphere of private benevolence will be but little narrowed. It was not intended, my friends, in the great economy of Providence, that it should be narrowed. "Ye have the poor always," - always will have. It is doubtful whether civilized society will ever exist in a state of such glittering prosperity, that this sober and sobering tint will not cast its shade over the brighter lights of the picture. I agree with my worthy friend, the superintendent of the schools, that it is extremely questionable whether the virtues

of which our poor nature is capable, could be carried to the attainable point of perfection, without the kindly exercise of the duties of Christian benevolence toward our suffering fellow-creatures. At any rate, however desirable it might be to live in a community where there are no objects of charity, there is not the least reason to think that such a state of things will ever exist here. Even if we could by a wise course of policy bring the permanent elements of our popu lation into such a state, our lot is cast at one of the great points of communication between America and Europe; we shall, for an indefinite period, have to take charge of a considerable amount of foreign poverty; and after society, as a political and municipal power, has done all that humanity warrants to limit its amount, it will remain for private benevolence, in all its forms, to carry on the blessed work of relief.

And here comes up the practical problem, which you, sir, (Mr. Barnard,) have done so much to solve. How shall this relief be afforded in such a way as to do the greatest amount of permanent good, with the least admixture of temporary evil? Reflecting persons have long since come to the conclusion that mere almsgiving at our doors, or in the street, is seldom a deed of real charity. There are, no doubt, a few cases in which the want is so sharp and urgent, that it must be relieved upon the spot; but almsgiving as a resource, almsgiving which, though casual on one side, is calculated upon by the other party, is worse than worthless, either as a charity or a dependence. That there should be any considerable numbers that live by it is shocking. It is grievous to reflect, that in this great, prosperous, and liberal city of Boston, there are not hundreds, but thousands, who, when they issue from their cellars and sheds in the morning, do not know whence the day's food is to come. This is a state of things at once reproachful to the community, and ruinous to its victims. It sinks them to the lowest point of depression, physical and moral. It implies an amount of suffering which the heart aches to reflect upon, together with an amount of crime not inferior to the suffering. What else can you expect from the poor creatures, when two are engaged in a death

struggle for the bread of which there is not enough for one? Does not such a state of things infallibly lead to all the varieties of crime against property, — pilfering, fraud, theft, robbery; nay, more, to the darkest deeds of blood,- to the mur

der of the born and unborn?

Not only is mere almsgiving productive of evil rather than good, but even our system of public charity—the poor-house establishment — though perhaps as well administered here as in any part of the world, is, I fear, far from doing all that could be desired. It is true that the almshouse relieves the wants of physical nature; the naked are clothed, the hungry fed, habits of excess are stopped, and employment is provided for those able to work. But I fear the great instrument of improvement, the intellectual, moral, and spiritual enlightenment of its inmates, is not very successfully employed. I doubt if, as a class, the inmates of our almshouses are made better by being the adoptive children of the public. I know that, in general, this very important part of the social system is thought, in this country, to be in a pretty satisfactory state, owing, probably, to the fact that few but those who are incurably broken down, become permanent recipients of the public bounty; but in England, although supported at an annual cost of twenty-five or thirty millions of dollars, the almshouse is considered as an expensive evil, tolerated only because the sagacity of the benevolent has not been able to devise a substitute not open to still greater objections.

And thus, my friends, we are brought to the moral of my remarks,—the superiority of the Warren Street system, which aims to relieve suffering by raising the intellectual, moral, and religious character of the poor; not only for the sake of giving them, in this way, greater facilities toward earning a livelihood, but for the sake of imparting to them that selfrespect which is the chief safeguard against a life of dependence. This is the great benefit of all education; not the positive knowledge it bestows, however useful and convenient, but the elevation of mind and the sense of character derived from the possession of any kind of useful knowledge;