The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1874-10-15
sIfeck Al The London Poor Poor.

LoRden." In this generous act the royal
visitor only followed the fashion as benevo-
fence Is just now en- regIe in the metropo-
lis. II is hardly possible tepiek up news
paper without reading of some charitable
festival with its ineyilable NJ II. and cob
lection, or of a munificent gift 10 the poor
| by some wealthy philanthropsst. Yet.
although the poor are I'M every ones mind
and mouth, though Parliament discusses
their needs, and society interests Itself and
] helps, and one is tempted to say, pets
them, and religion bends 10 their relief a
/ thousand gracious energies .still there they
remain, millions Of them. square miles OF
them, presenting to the statesman and re-
former perhaps the most tempting and
difficult social problem Of lineage.
| In spite Of the general interest feitinthis
subject by Englishmen, it is likely that a
hundred of them would make hundred
different answers 10 the question what Is
meant by the phrase 1.-The poor Of Lon
DON" Few, indeed, would restrict the t.
tie to those who have given up hope and
pride, and are willing to be and t0-be
| known as paHpers. This class numbering
as it does from ninety thousand to one
hundred and thirty thousand according TO
the season of the year and activity Of trade,
makes formidable body of itself. But
the pOer' means much more than " the
paupers, Any comprehensive definition
must includenOt only these forlorr- crea-
lures, but the far greater army of those
who deserve charity the more as they are
less eager to accept it. The great hand-to-
mouth classes, the costermongers, the
criminals, the prostitutes, the common
operatives, the two-penny shep-keepers;
the railway employees, cab and bus drlv-
choh fal
ushers and tutors with the, organizations
land aspirations of gentlemen and the III
come of bootblacks, -polieemepsC soldiers
who make a trade of death to get living
by 4; these and thousand other classes
tvhom n quick word to an employer, or q
/ few days of. rainy weather, or Il summers
| sickness may bring to penury and starya-
Walton, may not inap1y be Included among
+" the poor"
A strangerwitfr aicuriosityto see these
lower stlata OF society will find little diff
Guilty in gratifying it. Though "every.
| b, ly'' may be out of town these nobodies
will be found remaining in it; nor are
there any special DAYS or hours when they
are more likely to be Eat hOme'' than al
others. Perhaps as good a time and place
to see them as any,islop. the w hitechapel
and Mile End roads ola summers sun
day night. Suppose We leave st. Paul:
as the preacher begins his discourse and
wander eastward. past the Bank, and
through Cornhill and Leatlenhall- street tC
Aldgate. Ay We pass this, the eastern
boundary Of. the seityi' proper, the scene
suddenly changes Instead ofpondcruus
iron-gray warehouses, We see crazy bricl
buildings of the architecture of two oil
three different. centuries, edifces which
however admirable in their dayand gene
ration are now undeniably gone to seed
Instead of the occasional. pedestrians We
\ have been meeting fHLtlingi in silks. OF
faultless in hat, freek-eoat. and umbrella
we find ourselves iffthe1nidst Of the ''pool
of London. We are in East End London
part of the metropolis, concerning which
society, according to the TeLeeraph,- knows
as little as about the middle of Africa
And we are in Whitechapef, one of the
worst parts of East London. 1t is broaG
daylight yet, cool and pleasant, land the
| Inhabitants are all on the street, breathing
the fresh air, chatting acquaintance:
and with strangers; promenading, drink
ing cheap drinks, and induleing in slIcl
other recreatiOns as can beshadfor little OF
nothing. The sidewalks are. thronget
with motley crowd of frowsyF old mel
and women; prematdrely old, impudent
young .slatterns, chatting and frolicine
Hwith theiupais babies. tids" thew cal
them in East London. who can walk, stag.
| gering under babies that, canot;- rasget
arabs lodging about in the mtersticeS Of
the crowd, leaving a wake of noisy careless
Laughter as they scud away from the scene
/ of one mischief to another, ifIterspersed
with a few frock-coated respectableS
like ourselves iOn visits of mercy
or curiosity, and a scattering of decent un'
fortunate people who give you their adj
dress with a blush, and who are saving
money to move, Westward. Along the
gutter stretchesa Hne of-squalid creatures
seated ON the curbstOnes, the young play
ing in the mud, and the older bespattering
! one another with filthy speech andsug-
gestion. From the road ascends a con.
slant rafting of wheels and the sharp rap
of horses hOofs as they 70 slipping, slap.
ping, sliding along over the greasy pave
ment. The view is closed on either side
| by succession of small shops, where
green groceries and fruit, penny drinks
ices and shell fish, kidney pies, stewed eek
and the like can be purchased and con
sIimed by one of an unscrupulOils ston-
ach. To the right or left,a las we pass along
we look down dark, narrow, horrible al
| leys and are inclined to turn down some
one of them and explore it; then we think
better Of it and keep to the thoroughfare
We resolve, however, TO get some police
officer or well-known missionary to guide
us, at amore convenient season, through
those retreats of vice and misery So on
we 90 for miles. -5AsAVe proceed, thehigh-
way widens into spacious avenue with
broad belts of asphalt pavement between
4 the sidewalk and road. All sorts of penny
/ wares and refreshments are hawked from
canvas booths; each public house has be-
fore it a dense swarm of customers sitting
on the benches provided for their comfort
and at every few steps. we reach thick
circle. of respectful listeners gathered
around an earnest street-preacher. He is
speaking with terrible emphasis, as a dy-
ing man to dying men, speaking plainly,
| powerfully, and with occasional sudden
eloquence which pierces through frock-
coat As well as through the jersey or cali
co for'whom it was meant. $3.50 -. =
We may walk on and seethese sightsfor
hours. Most of the people we pass are in
no hurry. to 20 home and to bed. The
bench in front of the public house, the
pavement, the gutter, the flat stones are
better than home, because anything is bet
ter than home. There is indeed no place
like home for them, but in adifferent sense
! from what the poet meant. Home to them
means foul air and vermin, drunken part
ners, sniveling babies, sniveling from dis
ease and hunger, and bad dreams till day
light. ,C.ItJoGl AJ3 l1E -
We may walk on for hours yet, for we
| have merely begun on the Mile End road,
and have Bow and far-distant Stratford to
pass before we can pluck a sprig of haw-
| thorn from a wayside hedge, but we have
had enough and turn back Poor, poor
people, who are getting no sort of satisfac-
ton or pleasure out of this life, and whose
prospects for-the next seemso unpromis-
ing, we sincerely pity YOU yet we leave
you in the hope that he-who cares for the
! sparrow does somehow take care of you.-
Henry r. Elliott, in Christian Union.
l. - u no 70 5-EIfF7 80 EII- L.-a1 :
{ y : A -Black.mailer Trapped.
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In the Criminal Court of Washington,
] 7 - N Z