DISTRICT VISITORS.*
A FORTNIGHT ago we noticed the memoir of a trained lady-nurse, introduced to us by Miss Florence Nightingale ; and to-day we have before us extracts from the diaries of two amateurs in the same work and in that of district visiting, who come to us recom- mended by the Bishop of Salisbury. In one sense the importance of this book is much less than that of the former, inasmuch as it neither recommends and enforces a great reform (as the former does in the management of our hospitals, infirmaries and workhouses), nor introduces women—cultivated and otherwise—to a new, remunerative and very useful field of action. But in another sense the value of this book is much greater, for it appeals to no parti- cular class,—not to the comparatively few who require a profession and have the means and energy to prepare themselves for it,—but to all who have some leisure and desire to help the poor ; and the work it recommends requires no preparation beyond a resolution to be punctual and patient in it and not to give it up lightly. It is a significant and pleasant sign of the times, that books which point out the troubles of the poor and the courage with which they bear • Tlie Struts and Lanes 0/a City. By Amy Dutton. London: Macmillan sad Co.
up against them, or the weakness which succumbs to adverse circumstances, are appearing constantly and are perused with eagerness. Four such have been noticed in these pages during the last three months, and this is not the least lively and interesting of the four, and is written in cultivated language and in a refined tone. At the same time,—except as an evidence of the tendencies of the age, and to lead the way in showing how much has to be done for the poor and how it may be done and by whom—these books have little literary value, and we hope they will not become too common, as they easily may, if district visitors take it gene- rally into their heads to record their experiences, and invest in stationery and publishers' bills.
The Sisters Dutton (a nom de plume) begin with a few of the more interesting stories of their poor, pieced together from notes made during a long series of visits—in the same way in which the curate of the Tower Hamlets accumulated materials for his in- teresting Episodes in an Obscure Life—and they exhibit the same feeling for the pathos, if not quite so much for the occasional humour, of their subject. The tales would have gained in reality of effect if their compilers had been able, as in two of the books we have referred to, to give them in the words and dialect of their heroes, especially since these are denizens of the North, so rich in a characteristic and peculiar vocabulary ; and further, if the ladies had not from their somewhat high social position—connected with the great Dutton charity—been .so much of providences to their poor people, ensconcing them more snugly than it is the lot of most district visitors to be able to do, in the Chelsea Hospital, orphan asylums, &c. Nevertheless, the stories are simple and inter- esting, and it is with reluctance that we turn to the second more pain- ful part of the book—the workhouse nursing, and its sadder revela- tions—and lastly, to the still more distressing account of the cholera hospital of 1866, extemporized from a deserted farm-house which was about to be pulled down. There these sisters showed almost unexampled courage, taking entire charge of it, staying there alone with their patients through the winter days and long winter nights for ten melancholy weeks, assisted only by coarse pauper women, and cheered only by the visits of doctor and clergy- man and the good bishop, who himself came often to pray with and comfort the dying. On one day three patients died, on another five. They had to witness the tortures of children, the despair of parents, the passing away of whole families, and still they stayed on to the very end, and till "the plague was stayed." A romantic history is related incidentally of a woman who re- covered; but though these ladies, in perfect simplicity, seek to interest us in their patients, and succeed, yet our admiration is excited and our attention rivetted far more by themselves,—by their self-devotion and cheerful faith. To visit even cholera patients at their homes, and then return to our own dainty abodes and anxious friends, is one thing ; but to lie calmly down, for a snatch of broken rest, in the midst of patients in every stage of a terrible and epidemic disorder, to have to rise to answer the awful knocking at the gate at midnight, to admit the stretcher with its agonized burden, to soothe the last terrified moments of the dying, to compose the limbs and arrange for the hurried and ghastly funeral, is something utterly different, and for which, we fancy, few ladies and far fewer gentlemen have nerve and faith sufficient. The alleviation which their ministrations and sym- pathy brought to all, and the recovery which their prompt and intelligent nursing effected for some, must have been ample reward when all was over, but impair in no degree the magna- nimity of their conduct during those weeks of peril.
The Bishop of Salisbury, in a simple and unpretending preface, speaks strongly, and not too strongly, of the value of district visiting as it is called,—that is, a house-to-house visitation, as complete as the sensitiveness of the poor to the intrusion into their castles—humble, but as sacred as those of any other class— will permit. But he takes rather a priest's view of it, and makes a point of its being done under clerical superintendence. Inas- much as all organized work is more efficient than desultory and isolated effort, and as there must be a head to every organized society, and a parish clergyman furnishes, ex officio, such a head, with machinery at his command, it is wise to accept his leadership. But we do not at all see why the welfare of the poor—even their spiritual welfare—should not be as ably watched over by a band of voluntary workers under a lay head elected by themselves. In many respects it would be better done. It would avoid the clerical dictation which is resented by the intelligent poor, who, in these modern days, think for themselves. And even the visitors are not always at one with their reverend chief, who frequently makes baptism, confirmation and school-attendance conditions of help, and insists on the ;sole right to prescribe for the intellectual re- quirements of his poor parishioners. But, under whatever pre- sidentship, work of this sort is absolutely incumbent upon us, and productive of immense good, as the book before us sufficiently illustrates. And it is much to be regretted that it is not taken up more widely by good and sensible men of leisure, as well as by ladies, of whom too many are well-meaning and kindly, it is true, but inexperienced and weak and fastidious. It is not long since the present writer heard it laid down as a rule to be invariably attended to in cottage visiting, not to sit down. But if the poor- are not to be treated with the same courtesy that is extended to host or hostess of equal rank with the visitor, then farewell to all hope of establishing that cordial and friendly understanding which must be the basis of all influence. It is true that in harmonious intercourse with humble friends we may occasionally touch upon a B flat or an F sharp, and carry a note of discord to the air of home ; and to such as are more afraid of the waifs and strays that linger lovingly about the cushions of humble neighbours than anxious to serve the cushions' owners, we would say, either kill these mighty lions in your path and march over their dead bodies to victory, or give up at once your craven attempts at philanthropy. This may appear to be "much ado. abouPnothing," but, as we have said, friendliness is at the root of influence, and sitting down with the poor man by his. fireside is the beginning of friendship. This being once estab- lished, it is extraordinary in how many ways the poor may be served, and often saved from despair and vice, by the district.
• visitor.
Assuming the wisdom of helping the poor, by sympathy in every case, and in many cases by that which ultimately tests the reality of symyathy, material help, the district visitor forms a most important link between those who want serv- ing and those who can serve. He is the almoner of the wealthy, the agent of charitable institutions, the register office for those who. want work, the librarian of his district, the messenger to the- clergyman or lady-nurse, the intercessor with the guardians and the relieving officer, the time-keeper for the schoolmaster, the ad- vocate of temperance societies, the ready servant of all these bene- factors, and the poor folks' banker and confidential adviser.. Indeed there is so very much to be done, to execute conscientiously the duties of this office, that no one should undertake a large dis- trict. Fifty poor families, properly worked for, would occupy all the time of an energetic person. And it is for this reason that everyone who can, should take up the work, and do thoroughly well what he undertakes. "The harvest truly is plenteous," and the labourers will, we fear, be always too few.
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