Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-08-28
AMERICAN TELEGRAPH.
From the Home journal.
RURAL LIFE IN ENGLAND.
By W. X. NoRTHALL, NJ. d.

RURAL LIFE IN ENGLAND.
By W. X. N0RTHALL, NJ. d.
TIE WIDOW AND HER SON
Among the many widowed pensioners upon the
bounties of the parish, was woman Of the name
of Floyd The room in which she lived was one
Of the most comfortless and desolate of those al
lotted to the paupers. The furniture consisted
of a broken backed chair, stool, rickety table,
Il sort Of wooden cot, upon which was bed, if n
few bundles Of straw nre deserving the name. In
this miserable apartment, without companion
ship, and without employment, did this poor
creature exc out her miserable existence. She
was almost a constant applicant for medical aid,
although she labored under no positive disease,
but she felt the need of something to sustain her
failing powers Of life, and for the want Of good,
nourishing food, strengthening and restorative
medicine seemed to offer the only relief within
her reach The parish supplied the paupers
bountifuly withmedicine, for il was much cheap
er than meat, potatoes, and bread. In paying
physician to attend the poor, the officers OF the
parish seemed to think that they had done all
that humanity required, or justice demanded.
The church wardens annually partook of splen.
did dinner at the parsh's expense. The various
officers read their reports on these occasions, and
notwithstanding disease, famine, and death blot
ted statements with most sad and heartrending
details, these bloated wretches would gormandze
as freely, and talk of the glory of England, and
of the privileges and blessings enjoyed alike by
all British subjects, as boastingy as though their
own reports had not given the lie to their beef
| fed patriotism These annual feastings were
held under the pretence of meeting to adopt mea-
sures for the benefit and relief of paupers, but,
with poor Iekiel Homespun, in the play, 81
never could understand how stuffng church
wardens stomach could be for the good of the
poor"
| But, however, nothing is done in England, of
| q public nature, without dinner Beef and
philanthropy, religion and pudding, turtle soup
| and political economy go hand in hand Charity,
they say, begins at home, and suppose this is
the reason why the public men of England, in
matters of philanthropy, commence by supplying
themselves with beef before they begin to think
of offering slice to their neighbor; for this is
the only sense in which the mighty charity of
England has to doSwith home Thousands upon
thousands of pounds are freely given by British
philanthropy to clothe the naked savage, and to
convert the heathen whilst their own flesh and
blood are left to penury and want
Tracts and moral essays are distributed through
the land with bountiful hand; but of what va
lue are they to the starving laborer? What com
fort can they carry to the freside (heayen save
the markD of the pauper widow! Christian
| faith can, and does bear one "stity up amidst
the ills and misfortunes Of life; but it cannot
stop the gnawing hunger of the starving peasant,
clothe his children, or light his own cold, dismal
fireside with a ray of cheerfulness- Christianity,
| like love- wants something besides the ideal to
maintain its integrity unimpcached. Those men
are likely to be the best Christians who are most
free from the temptations.of poverty. Look nj
the agricultural labsrer Of England, with II wife
and seven or eight children to maintain q pit
tance Of as many shillings a week, and see hin
do this without encroaching upon the rights o
others, and then talk of the heroiSm OF the battle
field. The latter absolutely amounts To nothing
compared to the resisting honesty which keeps
the hands Of man so tempted free from the stain
of theft. If such man were 10 rob his richer
neighbor of the means Of giving the wife Of his
bosom and the children Of his loins n substantial
meal one day out Of seven, how the wefe vir.
tue of England would be horrifed; how the ma
esty of the British government would frown upon
u deed born Of its guilty extravaganza.
| There is great deal of heroiSm among the
poor people OF England, but it may be tempted
| too far and, if mistake not, the time is not far
distant when the poor but honest English peas
ant will demand, in voice which will make itself
heard through every room in the palace, his
share in the bounties of the land ! am not one
of those who would advocate sniyelling econo-
my in rewaring the services Of eminent and
distinguished men, but nations, like individuals,
should be just before they are generous The
English government, at the same time that she
is erowding bounty upon bounty on her success
full warriors, and voting pensions to the widow Of
this distinguished man and to the family Of the
other, should not forget the condition of those
whose toil-worn sinews made the means by which
such munifcence was obtained.
No government, however wisely or humancly
administered, can prevent in individual cases Of
distinction and want; but when we see in land
boasting Of the wisdom Of the legislation, the
largeness of its philanthropy, the yastness Of il,
possessions, the immensity Of its resources and
the splendor Of its private domains, every village
and town teeming with hundreds and thousands
of its industrial classes with scarce rag TO cover
their nakedness, or u crust OF bread TO appease
their craving hunger, il Is obvious there must be
something rotten somewhere. Such startling IN
equality cannot exist in healthy system Of gov.
ernment or in sound social existence. But 10
return to the widow.
There were many, very many widows in the
parish of T, as destitute and wretchedly sit
unted as Mrs. Floyd, and | only single out her
case because of the incident connected with her
history.
She had but one child, n son, when her hus-
band died, and left her to the care Of the over
seer. The child grew up somehow, but in what
way, or by what strange mystery he managed
to survive the hardshps of his childhood, | can
not pretend to say. Suffice it that when ! went
to T, he was in his fifteenth year, tall o.
his age, good Hooking, but Of feeble and deli
cate conformation. never saw him smile. Hi
earliest associations had been those Of poverty
and distress, and his boyhood bore the stamp .
his condition. lie used to run of errands occa
sionally for the radical draper, to whom | have
alluded in previous sketch who used 10 re
ward him now and then with a few pennies foi
his labor. These he invariably gave to his moth
er whom it supplied with snuff, the only luxury
she had known for years.
Whilst doing one Of these errands, carrying, q
small parcel of dry goods to customer OF me
draper, who lived on the outskirts OF the town
, he was set upon by parcel Of rude fellows,
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