Poverty is no disgrace to a man, but it is confoundedly inconvenient.

Sydney Smith (1771–1845), Anglican clergyman, wit, and prominent Whig essayist associated with the Edinburgh Review, often wrote and spoke on practical social questions with a mix of moral seriousness and comic candor. The remark about poverty reflects a recurrent theme in his commentary: sympathy for material hardship coupled with impatience toward pious platitudes that romanticize it. In early-19th-century Britain—marked by sharp class divisions, periodic economic distress, and debates over poor relief—Smith’s epigram neatly punctures the notion that virtue alone compensates for want, while still rejecting the idea that poverty is inherently shameful.

The sentence separates moral judgment from material reality. Smith insists that lacking money is not a stain on character (“no disgrace”), challenging social snobbery that equates wealth with worth. Yet he immediately adds that poverty is “confoundedly inconvenient,” emphasizing the everyday constraints it imposes—limited choices, reduced security, and constant practical obstacles. The humor (“confoundedly”) sharpens the point: moral consolation does not pay bills. The epigram’s lasting appeal lies in its balanced stance—defending dignity without sentimentalizing deprivation—and in its implicit critique of those who preach contentment to the poor while ignoring the concrete burdens of scarcity.

1) “Poverty is no disgrace, but it is confoundedly inconvenient.”
2) “Poverty is no disgrace to a man; but it is confoundedly inconvenient.”