Sketches by Boz 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sketches by Boz, by Charles Dickens 
(#21 in our series by Charles Dickens) 
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Title: Sketches by Boz 
Author: Charles Dickens 
Release Date: April, 1997 [EBook #882] [This file was first posted on
April 10, 1997] [Most recently updated: May 7, 2003] 
Edition: 10 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: US-ASCII 
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SKETCHES 
BY BOZ *** 
 
Transcribed from the 1903 edition by David Price, email 
[email protected] 
 
SKETCHES BY BOZ 
 
OUR PARISH 
 
CHAPTER I 
--THE BEADLE. THE PARISH ENGINE. THE SCHOOLMASTER 
 
How much is conveyed in those two short words--'The Parish!' And 
with how many tales of distress and misery, of broken fortune and 
ruined hopes, too often of unrelieved wretchedness and successful 
knavery, are they associated! A poor man, with small earnings, and a 
large family, just manages to live on from hand to mouth, and to 
procure food from day to day; he has barely sufficient to satisfy the 
present cravings of nature, and can take no heed of the future. His taxes 
are in arrear, quarter-day passes by, another quarter-day arrives: he can 
procure no more quarter for himself, and is summoned by--the parish.
His goods are distrained, his children are crying with cold and hunger, 
and the very bed on which his sick wife is lying, is dragged from 
beneath her. What can he do? To whom is he to apply for relief? To 
private charity? To benevolent individuals? Certainly not--there is his 
parish. There are the parish vestry, the parish infirmary, the parish 
surgeon, the parish officers, the parish beadle. Excellent institutions, 
and gentle, kind-hearted men. The woman dies--she is buried by the 
parish. The children have no protector--they are taken care of by the 
parish. The man first neglects, and afterwards cannot obtain, work--he 
is relieved by the parish; and when distress and drunkenness have done 
their work upon him, he is maintained, a harmless babbling idiot, in the 
parish asylum. 
The parish beadle is one of the most, perhaps THE most, important 
member of the local administration. He is not so well off as the 
churchwardens, certainly, nor is he so learned as the vestry-clerk, nor 
does he order things quite so much his own way as either of them. But 
his power is very great, notwithstanding; and the dignity of his office is 
never impaired by the absence of efforts on his part to maintain it. The 
beadle of our parish is a splendid fellow. It is quite delightful to hear 
him, as he explains the state of the existing poor laws to the deaf old 
women in the board- room passage on business nights; and to hear what 
he said to the senior churchwarden, and what the senior churchwarden 
said to him; and what 'we' (the beadle and the other gentlemen) came to 
the determination of doing. A miserable-looking woman is called into 
the boardroom, and represents a case of extreme destitution, affecting 
herself--a widow, with six small children. 'Where do you live?' inquires 
one of the overseers. 'I rents a two-pair back, gentlemen, at Mrs. 
Brown's, Number 3, Little King William's-alley, which has lived there 
this fifteen year, and knows me to be very hard-working and 
industrious, and when my poor husband was alive, gentlemen, as died 
in the hospital'--'Well, well,' interrupts the overseer, taking a note of the 
address, 'I'll send Simmons, the beadle, to-morrow morning, to 
ascertain whether your story is correct; and if so, I suppose you must 
have an order into the House--Simmons, go to this woman's the first 
thing to-morrow morning, will you?' Simmons bows assent, and ushers 
the woman out. Her previous admiration of 'the board' (who all sit
behind great books, and with their hats on) fades into nothing before 
her respect for her lace-trimmed conductor; and her account of what 
has passed inside, increases--if that be possible--the marks of respect, 
shown by the assembled crowd,