the practicability of effecting any essential amendment in our Poor Laws, I am induced to think that had they directed their attention to the question of bettering the condition of the poor, as a preliminary step, they would have seen the necessity of recommending some plan for general adoption, which would have paved the way for enabling our legislators (if not ultimately to abolish) yet to confine the application of the Poor Laws to the impotent and aged part of our population.

I am not about to advocate the general introduction of a system which is either to form a part of the law of the land or to interfere with the regular labour of our agricultural poor (so far as regular labour can be obtained at a fair remunerating price); but my object will be to prove, that whilst, on the one hand, what I will call the allotment system or the letting of small portions of land to the poor from a rood downwards to cultivate after their usual hours of labour are over, or when they may not be able to get employment, may and no doubt has been often abused (as every blessing may be), it is, on the other hand, capable, under proper regulations, of being made a most powerful auxiliary to a plan of general education, by at once opening a field for greater industry, not only without any sacrifice whatever on the part of the owner of the soil, but by essentially improving it; inasmuch as spade husbandry (by which means alone the allotments should be cultivated) has decidedly that tendency. Indeed, I know an instance of the soil having increased eight inches in depth, in the space of less than twenty years, by what is called double digging. It will not be contended, in the present depressed state of our poor, and with their habits of dependence upon parochial relief, that it will be practicable at once to make such an alteration in the law as will lead to any thing like the desirable end already alluded to. What then must be the ground-work for the introduction of a better system? Surely, if our agricultural poor can have the means afforded them of working out their independence by their industry, we cannot be justified in not providing those means for them, on withdrawing from under them the parochial props which so much contribute towards their present support.

We are indebted to Malthus for pointing out to us the causes of our present redundant population; but we are more indebted to Chalmers for having shewn to us that the only way of permanently bettering the temporal condition of our poor, is by improving their spiritual condition by means of a Christian education. If, however, I am correct in my view of this important subject, Chalmers (although he has certainly told us the truth) has fallen short of declaring the whole truth (from the want of more practical experience of the stated habits of our poor), by not having sufficiently enforced the necessity of combining industrious habits with Christian education.

You have intimated that the plan of letting small portions of land to the poor has been tried in Ireland, and has been found to entail upon that country some of the sore evils under which it is now labouring; but surely, sir, the plan of letting small allotments of land to the poor for spade cultivation, and under proper regulations for its management in the way we have already adverted to, is as different in its tendency to the cabin and potatoe system pursued in our sister country, as the encouragement of industrious is to that of idle habits.

But to be more explicit, the system which I would recommend in England is that of selecting a convenient spot of land, and letting it out in allotments not exceeding in general a quarter of an acre each, to the deserving part of the poor in every parish, so as to make the possession of an allotment a privilege, to be continued to the occupier only while he conducts himself well; and thus to separate as much as possible the deserving

from the undeserving. In the place in which I reside, this system has been acted on for nearly twenty years, and besides having contributed, in conjunction with a house of industry and the awarding of annual prizes to the poor who maintain the largest families without parochial relief, to reduce the rates from 16271. to 7181. per annum: it has materially tended to better the condition of the poor, to make them more industrious, to identify them with their superiors, (the letting of the allotments being now transferred to a society,) to enkindle a feeling in favour of self-support, to improve their morals, and (by giving them something at stake) to create an interest for the welfare of the community at large.

Need I again repeat, that I should consider such a provision as this, if secured to our poor by the law of the land, any thing but calculated to rescue them from their present helpless state of dependence? It would, in fact, degenerate shortly into a part of the very system under which we now feel so great a pressure. The turning point will be found to consist in making the system a privilege.

H.

REMARKS UPON THE TWO PRECEDING PAPERS ON COTTAGE allotments, &c.

WE have readily inserted the foregoing papers, and request the indulgence of our correspondents while we add some cursory remarks on certain of the subjects noticed in them; not wishing to carry the discussion into a new volume.

The observations which we have occasionally offered upon cottage allotments and kindred matters were not with any view to discourage the exertion of charity-far from it—but only to detach the question from the halo thrown around it; to place it upon its right footing; and thus to prevent the recoil and mischief which must inevitably take place when the golden dreams with which some persons are buoyed up about spade husbandry and cottage agriculture shall prove, as they must, to be but splendid fallacies.

Cottage husbandry (we do not speak of a garden for health, recreation, and culinary esculents, which ought to be attached to every cottage; but plots of ground for agricultural purposes) is a retrogradation in farming economics: it cannot, as a general system, be kept up; it can only be sustained at a loss, and as a matter of charity; we might as well prefer the hand crank to the steam-engine, as the spade to the plough. If spade labour have all the virtues ascribed to it, why does not the farmer adopt it? There is a superfluity of hands in many parishes; paupers are asking for employment, and will take low wages: and yet the foolish farmer, with such an opportunity of making his fortune, does not hire a few scores or hundreds of diggers and send them into his fallows. This practical argument is decisive; and if it were not, another is,-that all these schemes of extra-productive labour require, after all, to be based upon charity. There must be a society, or a subscription; or the lord of the manor, or the landlord, or the clergyman, or the parish, must let the land at a lower rent than it is worth. For example: the following advertisement lately appeared in the daily newspapers: "Home Colonies. Real charity consists in employing those who cannot obtain sale for their labour. E. J. Lance, of Lewisham, is forming a colony of agricultural labourers for spade husbandry at Frimley in Surrey, on waste land; and he asks the co-operation and assistance of moneyed individuals who are benevolently disposed towards the producers of food." Now if the scheme were really productive, if it were not a dead loss, why advertise for "the assistance of moneyed individuals benevolently disposed towards the producers of food?" If they really produced more food in the Home Colony than they consume in food or food's worth while

producing it, there would be no need of pecuniary assistance. There is disposable capital, and there is enterprise, and there is intelligence far more than sufficient to set the system at work in every part of the kingdom. Why then is it not done? Why are our land-owners and farmers and moneyed men so short-sighted? The plain fact is, that the system is unproductive—that is, it costs more than it yields-and that it can only be viewed as a matter of charity, not of business.

But how, it is asked, can that be called unproductive labour which raises a sack of corn where none grew before? In nearly the same way, we reply, that it would be unproductive labour for a whitesmith to make for himself a pair of shoes, worth seven shillings, at an expense of time in which he might have earned ten by his trade, and have bought a better pair of a shoemaker. But suppose, it is replied, the whitesmith is out of employment. Why, then, by all means let him make shoes or mend his coat; but if he can get work in his own line, let him send these to their respective handicrafts. And so of the agricultural labourer. It is undoubtedly far better, if he is out of work, that he should cultivate a slip of ground even at a disadvantage, than do nothing: all that he gets is so much pure gain above idleness; but if he is not out of work, but is expected after working all day for his master, instead of washing himself, and sitting down with his family, and mending his clothes, or eating his meal, or reading his Bible, to toil again at his grounds, and this system is continued from year to year, he will be worn down in mind and body; and himself and his family, and the public weal, must all ultimately suffer. We differ wholly from the opinion of our correspondent H. that the great object is to induce the poor to be industrious. As a body they are industrious, where they have any adequate motive of gain to prompt them; and in many lines of employment persons will almost kill themselves with task work. The ordinary hours of labour of almost every kind in this country, are to the full as much as the human frame on the average of human life will bear; and more would be injurious both to body and mind; as is well shewn in the very important evidence of Dr. Farre, before the Lord's-day Committee of the House of Commons, in regard to persons working on Sunday *. No jury of physicians would recommend that

We quote a passage :- "You have practised as a physician for many years?—Yes. "State the number of years?-Between thirty and forty.

"Have you had occasion to observe the effect of the observance and non-observance of the seventh day of rest during that time?—I have. I have been in the habit during a great many years of considering the uses of the Sabbath and of observing its abuse. The abuses are chiefly manifested in labour and dissipation. The use, medically speaking, is that of a day of rest. In a theological sense it is a holy rest, providing for the introduction of new and sublimer ideas into the mind of man, preparing him for his future state. As a day of rest, I view it as a day of compensation for the inadequate restorative power of the body under continued labour and excitement. A physician always has respect to the preservation of the restorative power, because if once this be lost, his healing office is at an end. If I show you, from the physiological view of the question, that there are provisions in the laws of nature which correspond with the Divine commandment, you will see from the analogy, that the Sabbath was made for man,' as a necessary appointment. A physician is anxious to preserve the balance of circulation, as necessary to the restorative power of the body. The ordinary exertions of man run down the circulation every day of his life; and the first general law of nature by which God (who is not only the giver, but also the preserver and sustainer of life,) prevents man from destroying himself, is the alternating of day with night, that repose may succeed action. But although the night apparently equalizes the circulation well, yet it does not sufficiently restore its balance for the attainment of a long life. Hence one day in seven, by the bounty of Providence, is thrown in as a day of compensation, to perfect by its repose the animal system. You may easily determine this question as a matter of fact by trying it on beasts of burden. Take that fine animal, the borse, and work him to the full extent of his powers every day in the week, or give him rest one day in seven, and you will soon

labourers should in the long run, and upon system, work upon their allotments before or after the usual hours of agricultural labour. It is this very sort of alleged light work, added to the regular hours of labour, that tends, in no small measure, to wear down the West-India slave. When he has done, he has not done; he cannot sit down and enjoy himself; he must work when he ought to rest. The leisure hours of a peasant are of inestimable value. To a passer-by it may appear a happy sight to behold a number of workmen "industriously" employed during the twilight after their day's work for their employers; and the people are happy because they gain a morsel of bread; but it is a spectacle that, regarded in a large view, is painful: it shews that the labourer cannot live by his proper occupation; that he must task his frame to extra, and therefore exhausting, exertions; and that he is in so degraded a condition, that he is constrained to yield leisure, and family comfort, and mental improvement, in order to support the craving wants of nature.

But J. W. D. says that, in his parish, the farmers allow the labourers "several days in seed time and harvest to attend to their grounds. If they do so, it is very benevolent, (even though they subtract the wages ;) but it is not nationally or parochially economical. As well might the whitesmith's master, when work was most busy, allow him to sit at home and botch shoes, by which he might gain a groat, and his employer and himself lose a crown. A labourer on a well-managed farm will be the means of producing far more than he could by his own cottage tillage; and the time taken from the one and given to the other, is so much waste of productive industry. It is getting on a small scale, and losing on a large one. The cottage allotment is an excellent field of labour when farm work is slack; but to dedicate to it any time that might have been valuable to the farmer, is like the whitesmith patching shoes while a steam perceive, by the superior vigour with which he performs his functions on the other six days, that this rest is necessary to his well-being. Man, possessing a superior nature, is borne along by the very vigour of his mind, so that the injury of continued diurnal exertion and excitement on his animal system is not so immediately apparent as it is in the brute; but in the long-run he breaks down more suddenly: it abridges the length of his life and that vigour of his old age, which (as to mere animal power) ought to be the object of his preservation. I consider therefore that, in the bountiful provision of Providence for the preservation of human life, the sabbatical appointment is not, as it has been sometimes theologically viewed, simply a precept partaking of the nature of a political institution, but that it is to be numbered amongst the natural duties, if the preservation of life be admitted to be a duty, and the premature destruction of it a suicidal act. This is said simply as a physician, and without reference at all to the theological question but if you consider further the proper effect of real Christianity, namely, peace of mind, confiding trust in God, and good-will to man, you will perceive in this source of renewed vigour to the mind, and through the mind to the body, an additional spring of life imparted from this higher use of the Sabbath as a holy rest. Were I to pursue this part of the question I should be touching on the duties committed to the clergy; but this I will say, that researches in physiology, by the analogy of the working of Providence in nature, will establish the truth of revelation, and consequently show that the Divine commandment is not to be considered as an arbitrary enactment, but as an appointment necessary to man. This is the position in which I would place it, as contradistinguished from precept and legislation; I would point out the sabbatical rest as necessary to man, and that the great enemies of the Sabbath, and consequently the enemies of man, are all laborious exercises of the body or mind, and dissipation, which force the circulation on that day in which it should repose; whilst relaxation from the ordinary cares of life, the enjoyment of this repose in the bosom of one's family, with the religious studies and duties which the day enjoins, not one of which, if rightly exercised, tends to abridge life, constitute the beneficial and appropriate service of the day. The student of nature, in becoming the student of Christ, will find in the principles of his doctrine and law, and in the practical application of them, the only and perfect science which prolongs the present, and perfects the future life."-Dr. Farre goes on to shew, upon medical as well as religious principles, the evils of tea-gardens, spirit drinking, and other popular excitements. We intend to notice his important statements on some future occasion,

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engine needed repairing, and a factory stood still waiting for it; and to toil upon the allotment seriously and steadily beyond the proper hours of farming labour, is to neglect every home duty, to forego every fireside comfort; and, in the end, to bring on premature old age. It may be done occasionally, or from necessity; but it is not to be desired as a system. The labourer ought to feel that he has no work, no care, after he leaves the plough or lays down the flail, till the next dawn; that his evening is for his repose, his solace, his fireside, his wife, his children, his domestic business, (for which it is little enough,) and for his Bible, and his God. There is far too much meddling with the poor in this country. Poor men are like other men; they have the same feelings, and the same natural capacities of mind; but the whole system of rural "management" is to treat them like half-witted children. And why is this necessary; or why do they endure it? Why, just because their richer neighbours have begun with making them paupers; and, then, as they are to pay, they have a right to interfere. Far from wishing to restrain either a poor man or a rich man in following his own inclination as to working, marrying, or disposing of himself as he pleases, we would give each unlimited freedom so long as he does not injure his neighbour. Legislative or parochial restraints upon marriage in particular would be tyrannical and absurd; let the man marry if he likes; but do not undertake to maintain his wife and children by law; and take care that the next race shall be so well educated, that the poor will be as provident in this matter as the other classes of society usually are. Leave these things where God has left them, and do not interfere by human legislation. Such matters will adjust themselves if let alone; but not if every bustling overseer and parish vestryman is to have a voice in "managing the poor." God meant poor and rich, as moral and accountable agents, to manage themselves; and the pulpit and the school-room, not the overseer's money bag, ought to teach them how to do so. Their natural and divinely ordained punishment for indolence or improvidence is, want; if they will not work, neither shall they eat; and no stronger stimulus to industry is requisite, unless meddling legislation has deranged what God ordained.

One of our correspondents remarks, that cottage-allotments "identify the rich with the poor." But how? not in honest independence, but as giver and receiver; as benefactor and pauper. The allotment flows from the charity of the squire, and we honour him for his benevolence; but how this can generate self-respect in the labourer we cannot divine. He holds his slip of barren land "during good behaviour;" thus he is a serf; his best bow, and his vote for a member of parliament if he had one, must be in requisition; he must not choose his work or his employer, or marry, or go to church or chapel, otherwise than as he knows his patron will consider "well-behaved." He must be like the slaves of Sir Roger de Coverley, so well described by Addison. Some persons might think such a picture pleasing; but to our minds it is humiliating, and unworthy of the British character. Sir Roger, with all his good qualities, was as lordly and arbitrary as the Grand Sultan; and not a villager dared move a limb but as he directed. This leading-strings system vitiates the character of the English peasantry; it makes them selfish and servile; it is at war with manly and Christian independence; and it is one great evil of the poor laws that they increase it, and convert the peasantry into slaves. The allotment system, so far as it partakes of the same character, is bad: it were better that the landowner should offer land at a fair rent; then is there no obligation: and if the poor cannot, or will not take it in that way, it is a proof that they know it would not answer to them to do so; which brings us where we set out, that the system can only be based upon charity, and not, as some of its advocates tell us, upon the calculations of profit and loss. Ground it then upon