A certain part of every workhouse is separated from the rest of the building, and appropriated to wayfarers. Formerly, at the close of day, a number of persons usually applied to the officers for lodging for the night. They were questioned as to their mode of livelihood, their object in travelling, the distance they had travelled, and the route; and these answers were tested by any means at hand. If the result was satisfactory, they were admitted, and allowed to pursue their way at an early hour in the morning, with an allowance of food. If the result was doubtful, or they were convicted of deceit, their application was either deferred, refused, or they were required to do work for the relief given. Then questions of age, sex, and degrees of health were considered. Now, relief precedes inquiry; and as these persons are relieved but once, no inquiry is made, and is in fact impossible. Now, if a man appears before an officer apparently destitute, he must be relieved forthwith. If the man is not relieved, the relieving-officer's situation and character are in jeopardy. And so the workhouse at night has become open house to all comers. The wards are filled with a strange group of beings. The very scum, not of the poor, but the vicious, are to be found in these wards. The man who attends these dens does his duty in the midst of revilings and cursings, and at the risk of his life. The poor man who is really "tramping" in search of work, and has not been able to get the threepence for his night's lodging, has not the benefit of this change. Fevers and other contagious diseases are likely to be generated and spread. Some inquiry has been made into this subject, but is by no means exhausted. Further inquiry should be made, and the connexion between vagrancy and a strict workhouse system should not be overlooked.