These rich folk dwelling round about the great Babylon of Misery, where Want sits on the Seven Hills, have also distinguished themselves by yet another invention. This is the organization of alms. Charity is so holy we will not leave it to chance--to the stray penny--we will organize it. The system is very simple: it is done by ticket. First you subscribe a few shillings to some organization, with its secretary, its clerks, its offices, board-room, and "machinery." For this you receive tickets. If a disagreeable woman with a baby in her arms, or a ragged boy, or a maimed man asks you for a "copper," you hand him a ticket. This saves trouble and responsibility. The beggar can take the ticket to the "office" and get his case "investigated." After an inquiry, and an adjournment for a week; another inquiry, and another adjournment for a week; a third inquiry, and a third adjournment, then, if he be of high moral character and highly recommended, he may get his dinner. One great advantage is conspicuous in this system: by no possible means can you risk giving a penny to a man not of high moral character, though he be perishing of starvation. If a man asks for bread, will ye give him a stone? Certainly not; give him a ticket. They did not understand how to do things in Judea Anno Domini I. This organization of charity saves such a lot of money: where people used to give away five pounds they now pay five shillings. Nothing like saving money. And, besides, you walk about with a clear conscience. No matter how many maimed men, or disagreeable women, or ragged boys you see, you can stroll on comfortably and never think about them; your charity is organized. If the German thinkers had not found out twenty years ago that there was no Devil, one would be inclined to ascribe this spurious, lying, false, and abominable mockery to the direct instigation of a Satan. The organization of charity! The very nature of charity is spontaneousness. You should have heard Alere lash out about this business; he called it charity suppression. Have you ever seen London in the early winter morning, when the frost lies along the kerb, just melting as the fires are lit; cold, grey, bitter, stony London? Whatever _can_ morning seem like to the starved and chilly wretches who have slept on the floor, and wake up to frost in Fleet Street? The pavements are covered with expectoration, indicating the chest diseases and misery that thousands are enduring. But I must not write too plainly; it would offend. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XXX. A PRINTER in the office crawled under the bed of the machine to replace something--a nut that had dropped; it was not known that he was there; the crank came round and crushed him against the brickwork. The embrace of iron is death. Alere fed his helpless children, and apprenticed them when they were old enough.