her vehicles of knowledge,
the possession and growing appreciation of political power, have made
poverty more self-conscious and the poor more discontented. By striving
to educate, intellectually, morally, sanitarily, the poor, we have made
them half-conscious of many needs they never recognized before. They
were once naked, and not ashamed, but we have taught them better. We
have raised the standard of the requirements of a decent human life, but
we have not increased to a corresponding degree their power to attain
them. If by poverty is meant the difference between felt wants and the
power to satisfy them, there is more poverty than ever. The income of
the poor has grown, but their desires and needs have grown more rapidly.
Hence the growth of a conscious class hatred, the "growing animosity of
the poor against the rich," which Mr. Barnett notes in the slums of
Whitechapel. The poor were once too stupid and too sodden for vigorous
discontent, now though their poverty may be less intense, it is more
alive, and more militant. The rate of improvement in the condition of
the poor is not quick enough to stem the current of popular discontent.

Nor is it the poor alone who are stricken with discontent. Clearer
thought and saner feelings are beginning to make it evident that in the
march of true civilization no one class can remain hopelessly behind.
Hence the problems of poverty are ever pressing more and more upon the
better-hearted, keener-sighted men and women of the more fortunate
classes; they feel that _they_ have no right to be contented with the
condition of the poor. The demand that a life worth living shall be made
possible for all, and that the knowledge, wealth, and energy of a nation
shall be rightly devoted to no other end than this, is the true measure
of the moral growth of a civilized community. The following picture
drawn a few years ago by Mr. Frederick Harrison shows how far we yet
fall short of such a realization--"To me at least, it would be enough to
condemn modern society as hardly an advance on slavery or serfdom, if
the permanent condition of industry were to be that which we now behold;
that 90 per cent, of the actual producers of wealth have no home that
they can call their own beyond the end of a week; have no bit of soil,
or so much as a room that belongs to them; have nothing of value of any
kind except as much as will go in a cart; have the precarious chance of
weekly wages which barely suffic