CHAP. X.

FOOTNOTES:[359:A]Mungo Park confirms this supposition by his description of the mud walls and thatched roofs of the Savages in Africa, where civilization has not yet made its appearance.[364:A]See specimens of brick-work in the annexed prints, of Croydon palace, and a curious gateway, dated 1599, near Bromley, Kent.[366:A]TheMinced pieHouse is at Greenwich, and was built by Vanbrugh. The ludicrous title is a witticism upon the architecture.—It is an unfortunate circumstance that the two old houses in Goswell-street are just rebuilt; and the view of Privy-garden isnowincorrect, through alterations made since the Plate was engraved.[403:A]The expensive and absurd methods lately adopted by Lottery-office keepers and many other tradesmen to invite customers are too contemptible for serious notice.

FOOTNOTES:

[359:A]Mungo Park confirms this supposition by his description of the mud walls and thatched roofs of the Savages in Africa, where civilization has not yet made its appearance.

[359:A]Mungo Park confirms this supposition by his description of the mud walls and thatched roofs of the Savages in Africa, where civilization has not yet made its appearance.

[364:A]See specimens of brick-work in the annexed prints, of Croydon palace, and a curious gateway, dated 1599, near Bromley, Kent.

[364:A]See specimens of brick-work in the annexed prints, of Croydon palace, and a curious gateway, dated 1599, near Bromley, Kent.

[366:A]TheMinced pieHouse is at Greenwich, and was built by Vanbrugh. The ludicrous title is a witticism upon the architecture.—It is an unfortunate circumstance that the two old houses in Goswell-street are just rebuilt; and the view of Privy-garden isnowincorrect, through alterations made since the Plate was engraved.

[366:A]TheMinced pieHouse is at Greenwich, and was built by Vanbrugh. The ludicrous title is a witticism upon the architecture.—It is an unfortunate circumstance that the two old houses in Goswell-street are just rebuilt; and the view of Privy-garden isnowincorrect, through alterations made since the Plate was engraved.

[403:A]The expensive and absurd methods lately adopted by Lottery-office keepers and many other tradesmen to invite customers are too contemptible for serious notice.

[403:A]The expensive and absurd methods lately adopted by Lottery-office keepers and many other tradesmen to invite customers are too contemptible for serious notice.

CHAP. X.SKETCH OF THE PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON.When a Londoner of the lowest class receives his employer's permission to relax from the labours of his profession, he endeavours to obtain the company of several of his acquaintance. Observe them assembled, and mark theircostume: they wear a round hat, like those of Men of fashion, placed far back on the head, covering a collection of long lank hair, which shades the features composed of vacancy and impudence; the neck is clothed in a coarse muslin cravat folded in ungraceful lines over a monstrous stiffener, which, defying compression, leaves a great opening between thepoma Adamiand it, from which the chin emerges and retires fortytimes in an hour. The coat is generally of dark blue or brown lapelled, the waistcoat of white or printed cotton, and the legs are covered either by pantaloons or breeches and white cotton stockings. Their progress through the streets is marked by impetuosity and a constant exertion of strength, making the peaceable Citizen with his wife and children retire to the entrance of a house, or cross the kennel, in order to avoid being hurried forward with them, or overturned. Their conversation consists of violent disputes and execrations, often degenerating into whimsical effusions of retort, peculiar to this branch of the great human tree, accompanied by occasional observations on the Females who unfortunately pass them. I must acknowledge myself more than once to have been surprised into risibility by this species of wit, for which the speaker deserved a horse-whip. The constant exercise of obscenity and gross allusion prevails when a neighbour's female servant, or a sister of one of the party, is present. We will not follow them across the Fields, but meet them seated at one of those inviting scenes which may be found on every side of London called Tea-gardens, where Tea indeed seldom makes its appearance. A few miserable bushes tortured into arbours veil in some degree the hateful exhibitions at these places, the licensed receptacles for mental degradation, receptacles for young men and young women, who areseated on benches before tables covered withliquor and tobacco-pipes! What can be expected from these assemblages but the inevitable consequences, drunkenness and debauchery? Their effects are observable whenever any public occurrence assembles the people of London; the whole Civil Power of which cannot restrain many enormities committed on those occasions. Under an idea of whim and pleasantry they perpetrate many scandalous actions, amusing themselves by throwing some filthy thing into the thickest part of a crowd, or driving forward till they half suffocate those before them, or hurt others by severe falls. Whenever an illumination takes place, their turbulence becomes seriously mischievous by the firing of pistols and throwing of squibs and crackers; but the latter practices, I hope, are now entirely subdued by the Magistracy.This class is fond of Theatrical amusements; and numbers may be observed waiting on an evening before the doors of the Theatres impatient and crowding for admission. The Pickpocket is always ready; but his operations are often frustrated by the Peace-officer's constant exclamation of "Take care of your pockets." When the door is opened, a dangerous trial of skill ensues: every person endeavours to enter first; the space is clogged; and pushing, screams, and execrations follow. If we enter the One-shilling Gallery, we witness constant disputes often terminating inblows, and observe heated bodies stripped of the outward garments, furious faces, with others grinning horribly, hear loud and incessant talking and laughter, beating the floor with sticks, hissing, clapping the hands, and the piercing whistle, with exclamations for "Musick."This motley collection are, however, generally attentive spectators and patient auditors during the representations; and I have remarked that any generous sentiment from the characters on the stage never fails to receive the loudest tokens of applause from the One-shilling Gallery; but this Gallery becomes a very troublesome appendage to the Theatre, when their highnesses divide into two parties, one for, and the other against the repetition of a pleasing song. This is particularly felt in the performance of a favourite Opera or Musical Farce.The next stage is that of Journeymen; thousands of whom have been steady well-behaved youths, in the practice of passing their evenings and holidays in rational pursuits with parents or friends, and who enter upon their profession determined to render themselves respectable, and their connexions happy. With such I have nothing to do; there is too much still-life for description in the man who rises at six in the morning, and works without cessation till six in the evening. His intervals of amusement may be directed to the same objects, Tea-gardens, publicExhibitions, and the Theatres; but his conduct is so properly governed, that Temperance and Pleasure dance in his features.Those whose characteristic outline I have traced before work, perhaps, three days in the week. Sunday they appropriate to the same species of relaxation to which they accustomed themselves in apprenticeship: Monday is sainted with them. And who will work onSaint Monday? Not the idle Journeyman and Labourer of London. Unfortunately the votaries of this Saint celebrate his name with libations of Beer and Gin, the fumes of which render them unfit for work on Tuesday. On Wednesday they begin the week; not by a close attention to their business, as their employers find to the extent of vexation and disappointment, but by repeated potations of beer, which a boy brings at stated hours all through the day; by retiring at twelve o'clock to dinner, and frequently returning at four, and going again toteaat four, if they shouldaccidentallyget to work at one. The excessive use of the former soporific beverage renders the Journeyman stupid, fretful, and quarrelsome, which any person may perceive by passing a public house at almost any period of the day. At the close of the week necessity compels this description of madmen to work; for, Saturday arriving, he must procure the means of redeeming his own and his wife's clothes from thatmost respectable member ofsocietythe Pawnbroker. And this is the labouring life of at least thirty thousand persons at present in London!Their domesticamusementschiefly consist in disputes with a Wife, who finds herself and children sacrificed to the brutal propensities of Drinking and Idleness; and the scene of contention is intolerable, if the lady possesses a high spirit; so entirely so to the husband, that he fixes himself for the evening with a party at the public house, where he is at first entertained, and entertains in turn, on the thriving subject of Politicks, culled from the delightful themes of so many thousands massacred in one place, and as many in another. As the night advances, the Journeyman becomes whimsical; one of the company is requested to sing, the rest join in chorus; and another hour elapses in a chaos of sounds equally insulting to the general quiet of the publick and the neighbourhood. By this time the Wife peeps through the windows, hoping to find a favourable opportunity of getting the sot to bed; which if she accomplishes without a kicking, she may be pronounced a lucky woman for that evening. A sober inhabitant of London cannot but be shocked at the staggering fellow-citizens he meets with late on a summer evening, labouring under a voluntary St. Vitus's dance, when returning to their homes. I saw a man of this description in Russel-square, who had placedhis hat on the pavement, and danced round it. To this ludicrous exhibition all eyes were directed. "Ah!" said an old female to another, "that man would never drink again could he see himself with our sensations."There are thirty-six public-houses in Old-street between Goswell-street and the City-road. Can they be supported by the population of that neighbourhood without endless excesses? And there are other districts where those curses to society are equally numerous? Shame on our thoughtless conduct in permitting a trade calculated only for human destruction! If comfort, health, and pleasure can arise from quaffing gallons of beer, let the lower classes be compelled to drink it at home with their friends and families; and no longer suffer that promiscuous mixture of folly and vice which results from thieves drinking with honest men. It is from this cause alone that men are brutalized. Difference of opinion will arise between members of the most polished classes: those become quarrels in the lower; and hence the petty actions for assaults which are tried in every direction. Examine the Old Bailey causes; and if Public-houses and Dram-shops are not found to be the general theatres of thieving plots and murders, let me receive no farther credit.London and the environs are overwhelmed with population. Every description of theinhabitants of the Country watch for favourable opportunities of removing to this enormous magnet; or, if that cannot be accomplished, they send their offspring of both sexes. Hundreds of servant girls and apprentices are thus prepared annually for prostitution and thoughtless marriages; every room in numbers of streets becomes the residence of Apprentices, Journeymen, their wives, and multitudes of children, who starve away existence year after year in hopeless sameness, and are often separated from Vice only by a deal or lath and plaster partition. The consequences of this crowded state of the City are so well known, that it is hardly necessary to point them out. I shall however venture to direct the Reader's attention to the Alms-houses, Work-houses, Charity Schools, Hospitals, and Prisons, which surround us; and ask whence they are filled? Who turns his attention to the second-floors, the garrets, the back-rooms, and the cellars of this Metropolis? It would be wrong to say no one; but who relates the result of his research? It may be imagined Hogarth has given us a true picture in his Distressed Poet: that print may serve as a foundation; a few additions of thesombrecast would furnish thousands of real scenes.The next class of crowded residents are persons with small incomes, who are compelled by great rents and heavy taxes to occupy furnished andunfurnished first and second floors. Those are generally healthy, and comfortably situated; but their eternal removals indicate that discontent and altercation exist but too frequently between the landlord's family and the lodger. Kitchens used in common by both parties are sources of discord; the cleansing of stairs ascended by all the inhabitants of the house is another; and the late hours of the latter a third. It is therefore common to see the streets almost obstructed every quarter-day with cart-loads of furniture.The usual time of rising with the class of Journeymen is between five and six in the morning. At the latter hour they commence their daily labour, and work till eight; an hour is then allowed for breakfast, and from twelve till one for dinner; and the business of the day concludes at six; but some industrious men work many extra hours. Public-houses are opened in sufficient time to furnish those who choose it with pernicious liquids; and the keepers will either send tea and bread and butter to the Journeymen for breakfast, or provide it for him at the house. This innocent meal is most commonly preferred; but I am sorry to say numbers never drink any thing so weak. The Journeyman and Labourer sometimes eat bread and cheese, or salted meat and bread, on the spot where they work; others return to their homes to dine; and others eat at the Cook's-shop, at which they may have whatquantity they please of baked and boiled meat, and flour and pease-puddings, at a very reasonable rate. Tea, and bread and cheese or meat, conclude the meals of the day. Large potations of beer, allowed by the employer in some instances, and clubbed for in others, fill the intervals of labour. When two labouring men meet accidentally in the streets, the second word after the usual salutation isWhat will you drink?or,Let us have a glass, or a pint; and it frequently happens that neither can muster halfpence sufficient.A Gin-shop may generally bescentedas the passenger approaches; but he cannot mistake it, as an assembly of the drivers of asses with soot, brick dust, cats'-meat, and vegetables, with a due proportion oflowladies of pleasure, always besiege the door. Thanks to the Distiller and Brewer, liquor is much less powerful in its operations at present than it was fifty years past: hence the improvement in the conduct of the votaries of Geneva. Those people very seldom exceed low wit, a little noise, and abuse of each other: indeed, our streets are wonderfully quiet, and riots and quarrels are very rare.The Tradesman and his Lodgers generally rise about the same hour, from six to nine o'clock, and often from the same description ofturned-upbedsteads, and beds inclosed in resemblances of chests of drawers and book-cases. Theseunwholesome contrivances originate from the necessity of accommodating many persons in a space calculated for very few: they are to be found in most lodging-houses; but four-post bedsteads and elegant curtains are constantly provided infurnishedlodgings.Tea, coffee, cocoa, rolls, toast, and bread and butter, form the breakfasts of this class of the community; and the hours of dining vary from one till half past four. Plain joints baked, roasted, and boiled, and potatoes, and other vegetables, are standing dishes; some exceed in fish, fowls, rabbits, &c. &c.; and many make their meals from veal-cutlets, beef-steaks, and pork and mutton chops, with potatoes, and very little bread. Fruit-pies and puddings are much used; table-beer, ale, and porter, are the most common beverage. Ardent spirits and hot water mixed too often follow; but wine seldom appears. Invitations of friends on Sundays and holidays produce many luxuries distributed by neat servant-maids.Tea, &c. succeeds from five to six o'clock, and a slight supper at nine. The evening is variously spent, in Visits, at the Playhouse, or with the eternal use of Cards. Conversation and Reading are greatly neglected; consequently numbers of this class speak very incorrectly.The opulent Tradesman, he that has retired from business, and the Merchant, live much inthe above manner in many respects; but, as the family never do any thing themselves, a Cook, a House-maid, a Nursery-maid, and a Foot-boyor Foot-man, become necessary; to which may be added in many cases a second establishment for a Country-house, a Groom, and even a Coachman; but the latter is frequently hired by the year, and then the Coachman is not always a domestick.The man of business and the Merchant generally sleep in thecountry, or if you please—near London, and come to town after breakfast. The family may either breakfast with him, or the ladies may indulge at their pleasure. Shopping in Hackney or other coaches in the morning, Visits, Musick, or Reading, occupy the space from breakfast at nine, ten, and eleven, till four, five, or six o'clock, the various hours for dining of the latter, when several friends are probably assembled to partake of a variety of viands of the best quality, followed by a handsome dessert and excellent wines.The hour of relaxation is now arrived; the cares of the world and business are dismissed; little more is said besides observations on the goodness of the provision, &c. and "Shall I help you to this or that?" Shall I add that too great repletion in this class often produces apoplexy? Several hours elapse in drinking wine; and Bacchus almost always usurps the place of the Ladies, who retire to cards till the Gentlemenare summoned to tea, sometimes not in a state to enjoy rational conversation. Supper ensues, and the bottle finishes the scene at a late hour.The reader must recollect that, when a family is without visitors, it is governed by greater regularity. Many Merchants and rich Tradesmen pass much of their leisure time at coffee-houses; and dinners are commonly given at those places. Reading the papers and conversation are strong inducements, exclusive of the bargains and consultations between strangers conveniently made and held at these places.The Ladies of the class now under notice have almost universally been educated at boarding-schools, and possess a general knowledge of the usages of fashionable life. Drawing, Musick, Dancing, Fancy-works, the French language, &c. are alternately employed, with Vauxhall, the Winter and Summer Theatres, walking in the Park at a particular season of the year, Cards, &c. &c. to kill time—and a little trip to a Watering-place is delightful beyond measure, where, it is necessary to observe,every bodygoes, from the Oilman's lady to the Princess, either in the Hoys, the Stage-coaches, Post-chaises, Glass-coaches, or their own coaches. Novels, those fruitful sources of amusement, are welcome besides to all descriptions ofCitizenessesandsomeCitizens.Libraries are to be found in the houses of many rich Traders and Tradesmen; and there have been instances of most valuable works issuing from their studies.CirculatingLibraries are of infinite use to the avaricious, and those of moderate incomes, and are very numerous; they produce a taste for reading, which cannot be excited in any other way, and should be encouraged by the Legislature under proper regulations. Many persons have associated, and composed Book Societies: the annual subscription of each individual is small; but the aggregate sum thus obtained enables the members to nominate expensive works, which are read in rotation; and, as it is a rule to sell the least approved of, the stock is farther maintained. The above means, and the additions to vast libraries both public and private continually making, has encouraged Literature to a most honourable extent in London, where numerous Authors are constantly employed in composing books of every possible description, which, richly embellished with engravings, generally sell rapidly.The next and last class consists of persons of antient families possessed of large incomes, and the Nobility. Their manner of passing the day may soon be described. Early rising is neithernecessary, nor is ituniversallypractised. Breakfast often makes its appearance at the Tradesman's hour of dining; though in some well-regulatedfamilies there is far more rationality. Novels, Newspapers, Magazines, Reviews, and little articles contrived to attract the fancy, are spread abroad in the breakfast-room, and afford amusement and conversation, while the languid operation of eating is performing. Suppose the Gentlemen of the family set forward on their morning equestrian ride; the Ladies read, work with their needle, or play on the Piano; nay, little childish games sometimes engage their attention till the hour for Visiting and Shopping arrives. Then the streets resound with the hoofs of fiery steeds, and thunder from the hands of the footman announces on the door of a friend —— a card containing the visitors name; but there are instances, I believe, on record of Ladies alighting.The hours of five, six, and seven o'clock reassemble the family to dinner, for which the party dresses in the most elegant manner, and frequently partake with their friends around them of the richestmadedishes, joints of meat, fish, poultry, confectionary, &c. &c. served in two or three courses by a butler, and footmen stationed behind each chair of the company present. Tea and coffee generally make their appearance before the wine and fruit are removed; but there are some who retire to the drawing-room for the use of those refreshments. The supper hour cannot be named with precision;it may be introduced from ten o'clock till two in the morning.The amusements of the Rich and Noble consist of every possible enjoyment: birth-days, levees, breakfasts atprivatehouses attended by two or three hundred persons at three or four o'clock in the afternoon, dinners, card-parties, suppers, androuts. The readernot yet bornwill, perhaps, thank my memory for adding that which may then be forgotten.A fashionable and opulent inhabitant of Westminster often occupies a house calculated for the receptionconvenientlyof the Master, the Mistress, two or three Children, a Nursery-maid, a Groom, a Coachman, a Butler, three Footmen, a Cook, and two or three House-maids, governed by a House-keeper; and we will finish the groupe by a Governesswho speaks French. So far all is right; now, future Reader, comes the essence of my information. See this house confined to an ichnography of twenty-five feet by forty prepared for arout: the floor is painted in graceful figures and flowers with coloured chalks for dancing; girandoles and lustres of splendid cut glass with numerous wax-candles lighted exhibit the lady in her jewels ready to receive her guests equally resplendent. Ay, but the number—what say you to anhundred, two hundred? There is pleasure, there amusement, and the inexpressible delight of languor, even faintingthrough exertion, heat, and suffocation! The company endeavour to compress themselves for obtaining a space to dance in, and afterwards they crowd to the supper-table sparkling with polished plate, and loaded with every delicacy; there theamusementsof Tantalus are renewed. Can we wonder that Aurora often lights our fashionables home, when we reflect on these fascinating inducements to keep late hours? But those to whom Fortune has been more propitious, in presenting them with vast mansions, have entertained as many as eight hundred persons through the night in a far less crowded state. Other amusements of the great consist in riding through Hyde-park; the Ladies in their coaches, and the Gentlemen on horseback in an adjoining road. He that would judge of the population of London should attend in the Park on any Sunday at three o'clock, from February till May: he must be astonished at the sight. The coaches, the horses, the populace of every rank who toil against the bleak East winds, are wonderfully numerous. Nor should he omit a visit to Kensington-gardens in May, to view the beautiful pedestrians that form our fashionable world; or a winter excursion to the Serpentine-river and the Canal in St. James's-park, where numbers skait, or attempt to skait.It would be useless to more than mention the additional pursuits of the Rich, who visit theannual exhibitions of Paintings and other attractive objects with eagerness, the Playhouse, Vauxhall, &c. &c.; but, alas! London becomes a mere blank after the 4th of June.Nobodyremains inTown; it is too hot, too suffocating!Every bodytherefore retires to their seats,if they have them; andthe restfly toMargate,Ramsgate, andBrighton, thosecapaciousreceptacles.Such are the follies of many: but, thanks to Heaven! there are numbers of our Nobility and Gentry who live and act for the general benefit of mankind.—And now,Vale, Londinium!

SKETCH OF THE PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON.

When a Londoner of the lowest class receives his employer's permission to relax from the labours of his profession, he endeavours to obtain the company of several of his acquaintance. Observe them assembled, and mark theircostume: they wear a round hat, like those of Men of fashion, placed far back on the head, covering a collection of long lank hair, which shades the features composed of vacancy and impudence; the neck is clothed in a coarse muslin cravat folded in ungraceful lines over a monstrous stiffener, which, defying compression, leaves a great opening between thepoma Adamiand it, from which the chin emerges and retires fortytimes in an hour. The coat is generally of dark blue or brown lapelled, the waistcoat of white or printed cotton, and the legs are covered either by pantaloons or breeches and white cotton stockings. Their progress through the streets is marked by impetuosity and a constant exertion of strength, making the peaceable Citizen with his wife and children retire to the entrance of a house, or cross the kennel, in order to avoid being hurried forward with them, or overturned. Their conversation consists of violent disputes and execrations, often degenerating into whimsical effusions of retort, peculiar to this branch of the great human tree, accompanied by occasional observations on the Females who unfortunately pass them. I must acknowledge myself more than once to have been surprised into risibility by this species of wit, for which the speaker deserved a horse-whip. The constant exercise of obscenity and gross allusion prevails when a neighbour's female servant, or a sister of one of the party, is present. We will not follow them across the Fields, but meet them seated at one of those inviting scenes which may be found on every side of London called Tea-gardens, where Tea indeed seldom makes its appearance. A few miserable bushes tortured into arbours veil in some degree the hateful exhibitions at these places, the licensed receptacles for mental degradation, receptacles for young men and young women, who areseated on benches before tables covered withliquor and tobacco-pipes! What can be expected from these assemblages but the inevitable consequences, drunkenness and debauchery? Their effects are observable whenever any public occurrence assembles the people of London; the whole Civil Power of which cannot restrain many enormities committed on those occasions. Under an idea of whim and pleasantry they perpetrate many scandalous actions, amusing themselves by throwing some filthy thing into the thickest part of a crowd, or driving forward till they half suffocate those before them, or hurt others by severe falls. Whenever an illumination takes place, their turbulence becomes seriously mischievous by the firing of pistols and throwing of squibs and crackers; but the latter practices, I hope, are now entirely subdued by the Magistracy.

This class is fond of Theatrical amusements; and numbers may be observed waiting on an evening before the doors of the Theatres impatient and crowding for admission. The Pickpocket is always ready; but his operations are often frustrated by the Peace-officer's constant exclamation of "Take care of your pockets." When the door is opened, a dangerous trial of skill ensues: every person endeavours to enter first; the space is clogged; and pushing, screams, and execrations follow. If we enter the One-shilling Gallery, we witness constant disputes often terminating inblows, and observe heated bodies stripped of the outward garments, furious faces, with others grinning horribly, hear loud and incessant talking and laughter, beating the floor with sticks, hissing, clapping the hands, and the piercing whistle, with exclamations for "Musick."

This motley collection are, however, generally attentive spectators and patient auditors during the representations; and I have remarked that any generous sentiment from the characters on the stage never fails to receive the loudest tokens of applause from the One-shilling Gallery; but this Gallery becomes a very troublesome appendage to the Theatre, when their highnesses divide into two parties, one for, and the other against the repetition of a pleasing song. This is particularly felt in the performance of a favourite Opera or Musical Farce.

The next stage is that of Journeymen; thousands of whom have been steady well-behaved youths, in the practice of passing their evenings and holidays in rational pursuits with parents or friends, and who enter upon their profession determined to render themselves respectable, and their connexions happy. With such I have nothing to do; there is too much still-life for description in the man who rises at six in the morning, and works without cessation till six in the evening. His intervals of amusement may be directed to the same objects, Tea-gardens, publicExhibitions, and the Theatres; but his conduct is so properly governed, that Temperance and Pleasure dance in his features.

Those whose characteristic outline I have traced before work, perhaps, three days in the week. Sunday they appropriate to the same species of relaxation to which they accustomed themselves in apprenticeship: Monday is sainted with them. And who will work onSaint Monday? Not the idle Journeyman and Labourer of London. Unfortunately the votaries of this Saint celebrate his name with libations of Beer and Gin, the fumes of which render them unfit for work on Tuesday. On Wednesday they begin the week; not by a close attention to their business, as their employers find to the extent of vexation and disappointment, but by repeated potations of beer, which a boy brings at stated hours all through the day; by retiring at twelve o'clock to dinner, and frequently returning at four, and going again toteaat four, if they shouldaccidentallyget to work at one. The excessive use of the former soporific beverage renders the Journeyman stupid, fretful, and quarrelsome, which any person may perceive by passing a public house at almost any period of the day. At the close of the week necessity compels this description of madmen to work; for, Saturday arriving, he must procure the means of redeeming his own and his wife's clothes from thatmost respectable member ofsocietythe Pawnbroker. And this is the labouring life of at least thirty thousand persons at present in London!

Their domesticamusementschiefly consist in disputes with a Wife, who finds herself and children sacrificed to the brutal propensities of Drinking and Idleness; and the scene of contention is intolerable, if the lady possesses a high spirit; so entirely so to the husband, that he fixes himself for the evening with a party at the public house, where he is at first entertained, and entertains in turn, on the thriving subject of Politicks, culled from the delightful themes of so many thousands massacred in one place, and as many in another. As the night advances, the Journeyman becomes whimsical; one of the company is requested to sing, the rest join in chorus; and another hour elapses in a chaos of sounds equally insulting to the general quiet of the publick and the neighbourhood. By this time the Wife peeps through the windows, hoping to find a favourable opportunity of getting the sot to bed; which if she accomplishes without a kicking, she may be pronounced a lucky woman for that evening. A sober inhabitant of London cannot but be shocked at the staggering fellow-citizens he meets with late on a summer evening, labouring under a voluntary St. Vitus's dance, when returning to their homes. I saw a man of this description in Russel-square, who had placedhis hat on the pavement, and danced round it. To this ludicrous exhibition all eyes were directed. "Ah!" said an old female to another, "that man would never drink again could he see himself with our sensations."

There are thirty-six public-houses in Old-street between Goswell-street and the City-road. Can they be supported by the population of that neighbourhood without endless excesses? And there are other districts where those curses to society are equally numerous? Shame on our thoughtless conduct in permitting a trade calculated only for human destruction! If comfort, health, and pleasure can arise from quaffing gallons of beer, let the lower classes be compelled to drink it at home with their friends and families; and no longer suffer that promiscuous mixture of folly and vice which results from thieves drinking with honest men. It is from this cause alone that men are brutalized. Difference of opinion will arise between members of the most polished classes: those become quarrels in the lower; and hence the petty actions for assaults which are tried in every direction. Examine the Old Bailey causes; and if Public-houses and Dram-shops are not found to be the general theatres of thieving plots and murders, let me receive no farther credit.

London and the environs are overwhelmed with population. Every description of theinhabitants of the Country watch for favourable opportunities of removing to this enormous magnet; or, if that cannot be accomplished, they send their offspring of both sexes. Hundreds of servant girls and apprentices are thus prepared annually for prostitution and thoughtless marriages; every room in numbers of streets becomes the residence of Apprentices, Journeymen, their wives, and multitudes of children, who starve away existence year after year in hopeless sameness, and are often separated from Vice only by a deal or lath and plaster partition. The consequences of this crowded state of the City are so well known, that it is hardly necessary to point them out. I shall however venture to direct the Reader's attention to the Alms-houses, Work-houses, Charity Schools, Hospitals, and Prisons, which surround us; and ask whence they are filled? Who turns his attention to the second-floors, the garrets, the back-rooms, and the cellars of this Metropolis? It would be wrong to say no one; but who relates the result of his research? It may be imagined Hogarth has given us a true picture in his Distressed Poet: that print may serve as a foundation; a few additions of thesombrecast would furnish thousands of real scenes.

The next class of crowded residents are persons with small incomes, who are compelled by great rents and heavy taxes to occupy furnished andunfurnished first and second floors. Those are generally healthy, and comfortably situated; but their eternal removals indicate that discontent and altercation exist but too frequently between the landlord's family and the lodger. Kitchens used in common by both parties are sources of discord; the cleansing of stairs ascended by all the inhabitants of the house is another; and the late hours of the latter a third. It is therefore common to see the streets almost obstructed every quarter-day with cart-loads of furniture.

The usual time of rising with the class of Journeymen is between five and six in the morning. At the latter hour they commence their daily labour, and work till eight; an hour is then allowed for breakfast, and from twelve till one for dinner; and the business of the day concludes at six; but some industrious men work many extra hours. Public-houses are opened in sufficient time to furnish those who choose it with pernicious liquids; and the keepers will either send tea and bread and butter to the Journeymen for breakfast, or provide it for him at the house. This innocent meal is most commonly preferred; but I am sorry to say numbers never drink any thing so weak. The Journeyman and Labourer sometimes eat bread and cheese, or salted meat and bread, on the spot where they work; others return to their homes to dine; and others eat at the Cook's-shop, at which they may have whatquantity they please of baked and boiled meat, and flour and pease-puddings, at a very reasonable rate. Tea, and bread and cheese or meat, conclude the meals of the day. Large potations of beer, allowed by the employer in some instances, and clubbed for in others, fill the intervals of labour. When two labouring men meet accidentally in the streets, the second word after the usual salutation isWhat will you drink?or,Let us have a glass, or a pint; and it frequently happens that neither can muster halfpence sufficient.

A Gin-shop may generally bescentedas the passenger approaches; but he cannot mistake it, as an assembly of the drivers of asses with soot, brick dust, cats'-meat, and vegetables, with a due proportion oflowladies of pleasure, always besiege the door. Thanks to the Distiller and Brewer, liquor is much less powerful in its operations at present than it was fifty years past: hence the improvement in the conduct of the votaries of Geneva. Those people very seldom exceed low wit, a little noise, and abuse of each other: indeed, our streets are wonderfully quiet, and riots and quarrels are very rare.

The Tradesman and his Lodgers generally rise about the same hour, from six to nine o'clock, and often from the same description ofturned-upbedsteads, and beds inclosed in resemblances of chests of drawers and book-cases. Theseunwholesome contrivances originate from the necessity of accommodating many persons in a space calculated for very few: they are to be found in most lodging-houses; but four-post bedsteads and elegant curtains are constantly provided infurnishedlodgings.

Tea, coffee, cocoa, rolls, toast, and bread and butter, form the breakfasts of this class of the community; and the hours of dining vary from one till half past four. Plain joints baked, roasted, and boiled, and potatoes, and other vegetables, are standing dishes; some exceed in fish, fowls, rabbits, &c. &c.; and many make their meals from veal-cutlets, beef-steaks, and pork and mutton chops, with potatoes, and very little bread. Fruit-pies and puddings are much used; table-beer, ale, and porter, are the most common beverage. Ardent spirits and hot water mixed too often follow; but wine seldom appears. Invitations of friends on Sundays and holidays produce many luxuries distributed by neat servant-maids.

Tea, &c. succeeds from five to six o'clock, and a slight supper at nine. The evening is variously spent, in Visits, at the Playhouse, or with the eternal use of Cards. Conversation and Reading are greatly neglected; consequently numbers of this class speak very incorrectly.

The opulent Tradesman, he that has retired from business, and the Merchant, live much inthe above manner in many respects; but, as the family never do any thing themselves, a Cook, a House-maid, a Nursery-maid, and a Foot-boyor Foot-man, become necessary; to which may be added in many cases a second establishment for a Country-house, a Groom, and even a Coachman; but the latter is frequently hired by the year, and then the Coachman is not always a domestick.

The man of business and the Merchant generally sleep in thecountry, or if you please—near London, and come to town after breakfast. The family may either breakfast with him, or the ladies may indulge at their pleasure. Shopping in Hackney or other coaches in the morning, Visits, Musick, or Reading, occupy the space from breakfast at nine, ten, and eleven, till four, five, or six o'clock, the various hours for dining of the latter, when several friends are probably assembled to partake of a variety of viands of the best quality, followed by a handsome dessert and excellent wines.

The hour of relaxation is now arrived; the cares of the world and business are dismissed; little more is said besides observations on the goodness of the provision, &c. and "Shall I help you to this or that?" Shall I add that too great repletion in this class often produces apoplexy? Several hours elapse in drinking wine; and Bacchus almost always usurps the place of the Ladies, who retire to cards till the Gentlemenare summoned to tea, sometimes not in a state to enjoy rational conversation. Supper ensues, and the bottle finishes the scene at a late hour.

The reader must recollect that, when a family is without visitors, it is governed by greater regularity. Many Merchants and rich Tradesmen pass much of their leisure time at coffee-houses; and dinners are commonly given at those places. Reading the papers and conversation are strong inducements, exclusive of the bargains and consultations between strangers conveniently made and held at these places.

The Ladies of the class now under notice have almost universally been educated at boarding-schools, and possess a general knowledge of the usages of fashionable life. Drawing, Musick, Dancing, Fancy-works, the French language, &c. are alternately employed, with Vauxhall, the Winter and Summer Theatres, walking in the Park at a particular season of the year, Cards, &c. &c. to kill time—and a little trip to a Watering-place is delightful beyond measure, where, it is necessary to observe,every bodygoes, from the Oilman's lady to the Princess, either in the Hoys, the Stage-coaches, Post-chaises, Glass-coaches, or their own coaches. Novels, those fruitful sources of amusement, are welcome besides to all descriptions ofCitizenessesandsomeCitizens.

Libraries are to be found in the houses of many rich Traders and Tradesmen; and there have been instances of most valuable works issuing from their studies.CirculatingLibraries are of infinite use to the avaricious, and those of moderate incomes, and are very numerous; they produce a taste for reading, which cannot be excited in any other way, and should be encouraged by the Legislature under proper regulations. Many persons have associated, and composed Book Societies: the annual subscription of each individual is small; but the aggregate sum thus obtained enables the members to nominate expensive works, which are read in rotation; and, as it is a rule to sell the least approved of, the stock is farther maintained. The above means, and the additions to vast libraries both public and private continually making, has encouraged Literature to a most honourable extent in London, where numerous Authors are constantly employed in composing books of every possible description, which, richly embellished with engravings, generally sell rapidly.

The next and last class consists of persons of antient families possessed of large incomes, and the Nobility. Their manner of passing the day may soon be described. Early rising is neithernecessary, nor is ituniversallypractised. Breakfast often makes its appearance at the Tradesman's hour of dining; though in some well-regulatedfamilies there is far more rationality. Novels, Newspapers, Magazines, Reviews, and little articles contrived to attract the fancy, are spread abroad in the breakfast-room, and afford amusement and conversation, while the languid operation of eating is performing. Suppose the Gentlemen of the family set forward on their morning equestrian ride; the Ladies read, work with their needle, or play on the Piano; nay, little childish games sometimes engage their attention till the hour for Visiting and Shopping arrives. Then the streets resound with the hoofs of fiery steeds, and thunder from the hands of the footman announces on the door of a friend —— a card containing the visitors name; but there are instances, I believe, on record of Ladies alighting.

The hours of five, six, and seven o'clock reassemble the family to dinner, for which the party dresses in the most elegant manner, and frequently partake with their friends around them of the richestmadedishes, joints of meat, fish, poultry, confectionary, &c. &c. served in two or three courses by a butler, and footmen stationed behind each chair of the company present. Tea and coffee generally make their appearance before the wine and fruit are removed; but there are some who retire to the drawing-room for the use of those refreshments. The supper hour cannot be named with precision;it may be introduced from ten o'clock till two in the morning.

The amusements of the Rich and Noble consist of every possible enjoyment: birth-days, levees, breakfasts atprivatehouses attended by two or three hundred persons at three or four o'clock in the afternoon, dinners, card-parties, suppers, androuts. The readernot yet bornwill, perhaps, thank my memory for adding that which may then be forgotten.

A fashionable and opulent inhabitant of Westminster often occupies a house calculated for the receptionconvenientlyof the Master, the Mistress, two or three Children, a Nursery-maid, a Groom, a Coachman, a Butler, three Footmen, a Cook, and two or three House-maids, governed by a House-keeper; and we will finish the groupe by a Governesswho speaks French. So far all is right; now, future Reader, comes the essence of my information. See this house confined to an ichnography of twenty-five feet by forty prepared for arout: the floor is painted in graceful figures and flowers with coloured chalks for dancing; girandoles and lustres of splendid cut glass with numerous wax-candles lighted exhibit the lady in her jewels ready to receive her guests equally resplendent. Ay, but the number—what say you to anhundred, two hundred? There is pleasure, there amusement, and the inexpressible delight of languor, even faintingthrough exertion, heat, and suffocation! The company endeavour to compress themselves for obtaining a space to dance in, and afterwards they crowd to the supper-table sparkling with polished plate, and loaded with every delicacy; there theamusementsof Tantalus are renewed. Can we wonder that Aurora often lights our fashionables home, when we reflect on these fascinating inducements to keep late hours? But those to whom Fortune has been more propitious, in presenting them with vast mansions, have entertained as many as eight hundred persons through the night in a far less crowded state. Other amusements of the great consist in riding through Hyde-park; the Ladies in their coaches, and the Gentlemen on horseback in an adjoining road. He that would judge of the population of London should attend in the Park on any Sunday at three o'clock, from February till May: he must be astonished at the sight. The coaches, the horses, the populace of every rank who toil against the bleak East winds, are wonderfully numerous. Nor should he omit a visit to Kensington-gardens in May, to view the beautiful pedestrians that form our fashionable world; or a winter excursion to the Serpentine-river and the Canal in St. James's-park, where numbers skait, or attempt to skait.

It would be useless to more than mention the additional pursuits of the Rich, who visit theannual exhibitions of Paintings and other attractive objects with eagerness, the Playhouse, Vauxhall, &c. &c.; but, alas! London becomes a mere blank after the 4th of June.Nobodyremains inTown; it is too hot, too suffocating!Every bodytherefore retires to their seats,if they have them; andthe restfly toMargate,Ramsgate, andBrighton, thosecapaciousreceptacles.

Such are the follies of many: but, thanks to Heaven! there are numbers of our Nobility and Gentry who live and act for the general benefit of mankind.—And now,

Vale, Londinium!

INDEX.A.Abel, Mr. concert by, ii.123.Accession of George III. celebrated, i. 339.Accident, dreadful, at Covent Garden Theatre, ii.190.—— fatal, in Westminster, i. 253.Actors, scale of merit of various, ii.254.Advertisement by Lord Vane, i. 431.Ætna, mount, eruption of, represented, ii.275.Allen, W. jun. shot, ii.74.—— description of his tomb, ii.81.—— W. sen. his petition to the King, ii.82.Almanac John, and his sigils, i. 97.Ambassador, riot at the house of the Morocco, ii.66.Anne, Queen, communication of, to the Lord Mayor, ii.13.Apollo Gardens, account of, i. 332.Apprentices, turbulence of, ii.88.Archers, entertainment for, i. 302.Architecture, domestic, notices of, ii.358.Ass race, account of one, ii.194.Asylum, the, account of, i. 48.Atalanta, acted on the marriage of the Prince of Wales, ii.191.Attalo, opera of, account of, ii.220.Austin, J. account of his enormous pudding, i. 404.B.Bancroft's Hospital, i. 47.Barker, gladiator, fights Stokes, ii.170.Barley-corn, Sir John, burnt, i. 314.Battles at Covent garden Theatre, ii.202.Beadles, number and salaries of, i. 165.Beard, Mr. his address to the public, ii238.Bear-garden, amusements of the, described, ii.109,134,137,147,155,164,170.—— attempt to suppress, ii.111,163.Beau of 1734, described, i. 301.—— 1727, ii.324.—— portrait of, in verse, i. 319.Bed, one described, ii.320.Beer given to the mob by the Prince of Wales, i. 314.Beggars, trick of R. Alegil, i. 98.—— tricks of, i. 99, 287.Benefit, Farinelli's, ii.188.Benefits, theatrical, confusion at, ii.226.Betting, specimens of, i. 373.Billiard tables, burnt, i. 173.Bills, seditious, explosion of, ii.51.Boxing, patronised by the rich, i. 335.Bread, adulteration of, bad effects of, i. 174.Bricks, first used, ii.362.—— badly made, ii.390.Bristol, Bishop of, letter to his parishioners, i. 362.Buck, gladiator, fights Miller, ii.135.Buckingham, Duchess of, adopts an infant, i. 43.Bucks, bold, account of a club so named, i. 264.Burges, Dr. burnt in effigy, i. 242.—— —— meeting burnt, ii.12.Butchers, battles between, ii.28.Butterfield, Lady, advertisement by, ii.144.C.Cæsar in Egypt, epigram on the tragedy of, ii.164.Cards, i. 325.Centinel, anecdote of one, ii.246.Chairmen, Irish, fight with sailors, ii.56.—— scheme of one, to obtain a debt, ii.66.Charitable acts of George I. i. 20, 23.—— —— of C. Weedon, Esq. i. 17.—— —— of Mr. Feast, brewer, i. 20.—— —— of the Prince Regent, i. 22.—— —— of unknown persons, i. 23.—— —— of the Earl of Thanet, i. 24.—— —— of Mrs. Turner, i. 24.—— —— of Roman Catholics, i. 24.—— —— of Lady Holford, i. 24.—— —— of Thomas Guy, i. 25.—— —— of the Citizens, to the haymakers, i. 27, 53.—— —— of Mahomet, a Turk, i. 27.—— —— of Mrs. Palmer, i. 27.—— —— of a committee of the Commons, i. 28.—— —— of the Duke of Bedford, i. 28.—— —— of the public to the inhabitants of Saltzburg, i. 29.—— —— of the managers of Drury-lane and Covent-garden Theatres, i. 52.—— —— of the Dutchess of Buckingham, i. 43.—— —— of Eliz. Pattent, i. 60.—— —— of the public to C. Shaw, i. 64.—— —— of the Marine Society, i. 64.—— —— of an unknown baker to starving German emigrants, i. 65.—— —— of Mr. Wachsel, the public, and government, to the same, i. 70, &c.—— —— of the public to Spital-fields weavers, i. 72.—— —— to the poor, i. 74.China jars, fashionable articles, i. 242.Christmas, customs at, described, i. 288.—— boxes noticed, i. 289.Cities, models of exhibited, ii.115.Clergy, sons of the, i. 267.Clinch, exhibition by, ii.136.Clive, Mrs. Actress, letter from, ii.228.Club, Calves-head, riot occasioned by, ii.47.Clubs, spouting, account of, poetic and prosaic, ii.202.Coaches, hackney, i. 277.—— —— useless, by street robberies, i. 145.—— —— job, &c. ill conduct of their drivers, i. 153.Coal-heavers, riots by, ii.70.—— trial of seven for shooting at J. Green, ii.91.Cobler of Cripplegate, hints by, i. 336.Cock-fighting, i. 335. ii.114,127.Coffee-houses, particulars of, i. 277, 282.Colman, Mr. his retort on Mr. Harris, ii.266.Comedians, French, discouraged, ii.151.—— —— riot concerning, ii.200.Concerts, illegal, i. 331.Conduit-house, White, described in blank verse, ii.224.Convents, French, female youth sent to, i. 359.Cornely, Mrs. account of, ii.255.Cups and balls, cheats with, i. 100.Curiosity, prevalence of, i. 318, 372.Cuthbeartson, hair-dresser, challenge from, i. 97.Cuzzoni, singer, particulars of, ii.156.D.Dancing, by footmen, &c. i. 291.—— on the rope, ii.113.Davenant, Sir W. picture of London by, ii.366.Defence, science of, ii.108.Denmark, King of, incommoded by the public, i. 372.Dent, John, constable, murdered, i. 234.Depredators, an antient fraternity, i. 87.Dice, formerly used by barrow women, i. 255.Dissenters, vindicated, ii.48.Dodd, Dr. on his unhappy fate, i. 84.Dog, speaking, ii.150.Doggett's coat and badge first rowed for, i. 256.Doggrel lines on the South Sea scheme, i. 125.Drams, drank in high life, i. 170, 234.Dress, anecdotes of, ii.312.—— of a youth described, ii.316.—— of ladies described, ii.317,319,325,333.—— of the Queen described, ii.333,337.—— strange, of gentlemen, ii.322.—— in antient times, ii.337.Drumming a new married pair, i. 241.Duelling, prevalence of, i. 261.Dutch prophet, extract from the, i. 229.—— Stiptick, i. 222.E.Eccentricity of an old gentleman, i. 396.—— of Joseph Jacobs, i. 397.—— of Dr. Sacheverell, i. 398.—— of Gustavus Parker, i. 400.—— of T. Smith, operator, i. 400.—— of four men, i. 401.—— of men of rank and fashion, i. 403.—— of James Austin, i. 404.—— of Mr. Elderton, i. 406.—— of Mr. Dyche, i. 407.—— of an unknown lady, i. 407.—— of certain tiplers, i. 408.—— of a brewer's servant, i. 408.—— of Mr. Morrisco, i. 409.—— of Don Saltero, i. 410.—— of several gentlemen, i. 411.—— of Mr. Johnston, i. 412.—— of a Priest of St. Andrew Undershaft, i. 413.—— of A. Simmonds, i. 414.—— of orator Henley, i. 415.—— of the Duchess of Hamilton, i. 422.—— of Mrs. Jennings, i. 425.—— of a chare-woman, i. 426.—— of Mrs. Mapp, the bone-setter, i. 427.—— of Viscount Vane, i. 431.Eclogue, Covent-garden, i. 302.Education, particulars of, i. 326.Effingham, Countess of, robes of, described, ii.347.Erasmus, letter of, on the state of London, ii.376.Exchange-alley, account of, i. 279.Expences at Guildhall 1761, i. 347.Explosion, popular, ii.51.F.Fair, at Mile-end, presented, i. 303.—— Horn, noticed, i. 360.—— Edmonton, censured, i. 361.—— May, ii.108.—— —— constable killed at, ii.118.—— —— presented, ii.125.—— Bartholomew, ii.110,113.—— —— interlude at, described, ii.119.—— —— further noticed, ii.139,182.—— —— described in verse, ii.234.—— —— presented by the grand jury, ii.113.Families, antient, customs, &c. of, ii.419.Fare, bill of, at Guildhall, i. 344.Farinelli, benefit of, ii.188.Fashion, verses on, i. 316.Fashions, general review of female, ii.326.—— history of, ii.338.—— —— of male, ii.340.—— gradual changes in, ii.354.Faustus, Dr. story of a pantomime so called, ii.159.Felons, number tried in Beckford's mayoralty, &c. i. 186.Fête champêtre at Mary-bon Gardens, ii.289.Fielding, Sir John, address from, to the public, for establishing a dispensary for infants, i. 74.—— address of, to the public concerning a coalheaver's funeral, i. 177.—— address to the grand jury, 1773, i. 210.—— —— to a similar body, i. 352.Figg, gladiator, fights Holmes, ii.173.—— —— lines on, ii.174.—— battle at his room, ii.175.—— fights before the Duke of Lorrain, ii.176.Fire, false alarm at Drury-lane Theatre, ii.171.Fire-eater, extraordinary, ii.149.Fitzgerald, Capt. murder of a watchman by, i. 266.Fleet Marriages, i. 272.Florists' feast, i. 258.Foote, letter to Lord Chamberlain, ii.300.Fund, Mr. Patterson's account of a charitable, i. 50.—— Theatrical, ii.256.G.Gaming, extent of, i. 105, 217, 263, 295.Garret, Mayor of, election of, i. 394.Garrick, Mr. his dispute with the public, ii.236.—— retires from the stage, ii.303.Garth, Dr. extract from a prologue by him, ii.125.George I. honours paid him on his arrival, i. 243.—— —— aquatic excursion by, i. 257. ii.139.—— II. account of his dining at Guildhall, i. 283.—— III. benevolence of, i. 57.—— —— celebration of his accession, marriage, &c. i. 339.—— —— entertained at Guildhall, i. 340.Ghost, the Cock-lane, narrative of, i. 179.Gibson, a Quaker, turbulence of, ii.45.Gifts, by the society for the relief of widows and children of clergymen, i. 24.—— of the trustees for the sons of, i. 25.—— to British seamen who had been in slavery, i. 26, 42.Gin, destructive effects of, i. 133, 168, 316.—— riots occasioned by, ii.49.—— ludicrous description of its virtues, ii.50.Gladiators, female, notices of, ii.165.Glasses, musical, account of, ii.226.Goodman, a highwayman, escape of, &c. i. 103.Gordon, Lord George, riots occasioned by, ii.102.Goulding, Mrs. story of supernatural acts in her house, i. 376.Green, J. house of, besieged, ii.91.Grosley, M. extract from his tour to London, i. 382.Guinea dropping, i. 91.H.Halls, public, how used formerly, i. 230.Handel, anecdotes of, ii.213.Harlequinades introduced, ii.158.Harley, Lord Mayor, notice from respecting wheat, ii.89.Harper, comedian, hard case of, ii.186.Harris, Mr. account of his dispute with Mr. Colman, ii.257.—— Mr. his dispute decided in Chancery, ii.257.Hartley, Mr. death of, ii.54.Hawes, Mr. meeting-house of, stormed, ii.29.Hell-fire club, account of the, i. 264, 268.Hearses, stormed, ii.45.Highgate, cave at, suppressed, i. 100.Hill, Ludgate, brutal acts on, ii.55.Hoaxing, specimens of, i. 316, 375.Hockley-in-the-hole, account of, ii.109.—— presented, ii.111.Hospitals, observations on, i. 45, 54.—— Foundling, i. 14.—— Small-pox, i. 76.—— at Hyde-park corner, instituted, i. 44.—— Lying-in, i. 77.Houses, dreadful state of empty, i. 58.—— disorderly, suppressed, i. 147.—— Gaming, particulars of, i. 295.—— Mug, riots at, ii.26.—— necessary for man, ii.358.—— antient, in London, ii.366.—— fall of old, ii.389.—— public, too numerous, ii.412.Howard, John, Esq. letters from, i. 79.Humane Society, origin of, i. 83.Hyp Doctor, extract from, ii.48.I.Incendiaries, letters of, i. 145. ii.195.Infant actors censured, ii.203.Infirmary, established 1719, i. 25.Impostors, singular, i. 99, 100, 132, 146, 170.Insurance upon lives, i. 109.—— policies of, risked on all subjects, i. 109.—— abuse of, i. 111.—— of lottery tickets, ii.9.Islington Spa, amusements at, ii.108.J.Jacobites, proceedings of, ii.25.Jewish marriage, splendid one, ii.152.Joke, practical, instance of a, i. 316.Jones, footman, escape from justice, i. 102.Journeymen, general manners of, ii.409.Justice, courts of, turbulence in, i. 330.K.Kemble, Mr. first appearance of, ii.304.Kenrick, Dr. his school of Shakspeare, ii.289.Knocking at doors illustrated, i. 238.L.Lambeth Wells, ii.115,129.Lamps, coloured, first used, i. 255.—— globular, patent for, ii.380.—— particulars concerning, ii.381.Law, the projector, i. 105.—— anecdotes of, i. 106.Lepines, de, pantomimic opera, ii.151.Letter from A, B, &c. to the Bishop of Bristol, i. 368.—— incendiary, to Mr. Fleetwood, ii.194.Liquors, spirituous, convictions for selling of, ii.53.London, city of, Lying-in hospital, i. 57.Lord Mayor, soliciting charity in the markets, i. 26.Lotteries, tricks of proprietors of, i. 89. ii.2.—— State, account of, ii.4.—— of Deer, i. 254.Ludgate, illumination of described, i. 297.M.Macky, his summary of the customs of London, i. 272.Maclane, Donald, trial of, for the murder of W. Allen, jun. ii.74.Macklin, account of his conduct in his dispute with Reddish, ii.278.—— his letter to Dr. Kenrick, ii.287.—— his attempt to perform at the age of 90, ii.305.Mad-houses, private, abuses in, i. 186.Magdalen hospital, i. 56.Managers, theatrical, parsimony of, ii.156.Manners, society for reformation of; effects of their labours, i. 105, 140, 152, 329.—— anecdotes of, from M. Grosley's tour, i. 382.Mapp, Mrs. bone-setter, account of, i. 427.Mary, Lady, catastrophe of, ii.122.Mary-le-bon garden, ii.198,276,289.Masks, instance of their abuse, i. 280.Masquerade, room used for, ii.128.—— given to the King of Denmark, ii.272.—— Mrs. Cornely's, ii.255.Masters of defence, presented, ii.112.Mead, Dr. a cheat performed on, i. 104.Mercers, folly of, i. 235.Milliners, Men, supersede Women, i. 359.Milton's daughter, &c. i. 281.Mist, his advice to the public, i. 259.Mob, brutality of, i. 271, 385.—— infatuation of, i. 315. ii.55.—— fashionable, exertions of, ii.246.Mohawks, account of the, ii.20.Money-lenders, schemes of, exposed, i. 91.Montague, Duke of, and the bottle conjuror, ii.201.Moorfields, resort of Merry Andrews, ii.146.Mourning, court order concerning, ii.353.Mug-houses, ii.27.Music-room, Soho, opened, ii.224.N.Narrative of distress and death by famine in Stonecutter's street, i. 60.Necromancy, by John Bonnor, i. 99.Nectar and Ambrosia, i. 234.Nicolini, the singer, good fortune of, ii.138.O.Oades, dreadful riot between persons of that name, i. 100.Opera, tradesmen of the, unpaid, ii.131.—— notice concerning, by Mr. Clayton, &c. ii.132.—— house, presented by a grand jury, ii.157.—— —— disputes at, ii.170.—— merits of the Italians, in the, ii.173.—— The Beggars, performed by infants, ii.172.—— —— —— condemned by Sir J. Fielding, ii.278.—— that of Attalo described, ii.220.Orange, Prince of, married, i. 297.Oratorios, Handel's, ii.218.Organ, curious, ii.199.Owl, singular exhibition of one, ii.194.P.Palmer, Mr. comedian, considered aRogue, &c. ii.304.Pantheon, described, and opened, ii.276.Parish poor, facts relative to, i. 4-9.Patents, theatrical, particulars of, ii.131,148,169,178,187,188,306.Parties, family, customs of, i. 324.Paul's, St. how used formerly, i. 281.Paving, notices relating to, ii.395.Peacepudding, account of one, i. 242.Penkethman, account of his Pantheon, ii.128.—— booth of, suppressed, ii.148.Perfuming the person, illustrated, i. 240.Peruke-makers, petition of, ii.349.Petticoat, the hooped, troublesome, ii.321.—— —— —— fair game for wits, ii.323.Philips, Mr. invocation by, i. 130.Picture, moving, exhibited, ii.126.Pipes of the new river, tapped, i. 89.Plate, stole at a coronation dinner, i. 92.Plays performed at the Temple, ii.143,187.Police, report of a committee on, i. 189.Poor laws, defective, i. 45.—— wretched lodgings of, i. 271.Pope, burning of, in effigy, prevented, ii.14.—— burnt in effigy, ii.15.Posture master, extraordinary, ii.129.Press, degraded state of, i. 262.Preston, C. killed by a bear, ii.126.Proclamation for suppressing vice, seconded by the public, i. 93.—— against riots, ii.87.—— against improprieties on the stage, ii.130.—— by the Lord Mayor, ii.87.Prologue, spoken at Drury-lane Theatre, i. 52.Promenade, Sunday, in Hyde-park, i. 239.Prostitutes, whipped, i. 350.Punch, liquid, epitaph on, ii.50.—— opera, by Powell, ii.127.Q.Quacks, specimens of their advertisements, i. 218, 228.Quakers, perverseness of, i. 318.—— grand wedding of one, i. 255.—— instance of humility in one, i. 254.Queen Charlotte, splendid surprize of his Majesty, ii.244.Queensberry, Duchess of, epigram on, ii.173.R.Ranelagh, fight ofpeaceofficers at, ii.69.—— house sold, ii.188.—— benefit given by proprietors of, ii.233.—— defects in the rotunda at, ii.245.Regatta, on the Thames, described, ii.293.Register offices, tricks at, i. 171.Review of various charities, i. 85.Rice, David, strange notice by, i. 338.Rich, C. Esq. death of, ii.137.Riots, public, i. 266. ii.24,46,54.—— dreadful, in the Haymarket, i. 265.—— amongst footmen, ii.22.—— in Craven-street, ii.53.—— at an undertaker's funeral, ii.55.—— concerning Wilkes and liberty, ii.74.—— of 1780, ii.102.Robberies, letter from Lord Townshend concerning, i. 142.Robinson, Mrs. cheated by a pretended quack, i. 102.Roebuck Tavern, proceedings at, ii.23,28.Rogues and vagabonds, theatrically defined, ii.183.Royal aquatic excursion, i. 257.Ruptured poor, hospital for, i. 49.S.Sabbath, breach of, condemned, i. 353.Sacheverell, Dr. riots during his trial, ii.11.Sailors, battle of, with Irish chairmen, ii.56.—— further violence of, ii.70.Schools, charity, particulars of, i. 16, 19, 29.—— boarding, pernicious, i. 328.Sermon Tasters, i. 235.Sheppard, the robber, anecdotes of, ii.31,32.Shopmen described, i. 235.Signs, dangerous, ii.392.Sion chapel, Hampstead, weddings advertised at, i. 256.Smock races, ii.124,183.Society for relief of debtors, origin of, i. 77.—— Loyal, proceedings of, ii.24.—— Benefit, origin of, ii.5.—— sketches of the present state of, ii.406.Steele, Sir R. his patent invaded, ii.151.Stepney feast, account of, i. 43.Stock, South Sea, distress occasioned by the fall of, i. 118, 131.Stone, exclusively used for palaces, ii.361.Streets, various obstructions in, noticed, ii.395.—— improved, ii.384.—— cleanliness of, ii.400.—— St. James's, humorous description of, ii.398.Subscription for clothing soldiers, i. 52.Suicide, horrid narrative of, i. 149.Sutton, poetical description of his battle with Stokes, ii.165.Swearing, attempt to suppress, i. 352.Swindlers, counsellorTomandSir John, i. 164.Swords, footmen forbid to wear them, ii.314.T.Tailors, journeymen, turbulence of, ii.90.Term-time described in verse, i. 321.Thames, diversions on the ice of the, ii.140.Theatres, particulars relating to the, i. 274. ii.110,186,254.—— presented, ii.110.—— impiety of, suppressed, ii.116.—— ragged regiments of, ii.157.—— Lincoln's-inn opened, ii.138.—— Haymarket opened, ii.125.—— —— re-erected, ii.153.—— —— opened, ii.162,172.—— Goodman's-fields, ii.124,177,179.—— Covent-garden built, ii.177.—— —— decorations of, ii.179.—— —— lines to the proprietors of, ii.180.—— —— riots at, ii.196,202,243,285.—— —— dispute concerning, ii.257.—— —— improved, ii.304.—— Drury-lane improved, ii.235,292.—— —— alarm of fire at, ii.171.—— —— admission raised, ii.235,306.—— —— riot at, ii.236.—— —— rebuilt, ii.305.—— —— described, ii.309.—— dissertation on the, ii.247.Theatrical trial, ii.186.—— consequences, ii.189.Tottenham-court-road, interlude there, ii.179.Tradesmen, fancied improvements of, i. 356.—— manner of living in 1700, i. 230. ii.418.Trumpet, the use of, licensed, ii.109.Trunk-maker, account of the, ii.130.Twelfth-day, how celebrated, i. 292.V.Vacation, the Lawyers, described in verse, i. 321.Vales, custom of giving, opposed, i. 334.Vauxhall, first notice of, ii.178.—— statement of the proprietors, ii.191.—— proposal of the proprietors, ii.198.—— improper conduct at, ii.213,246.Vice, Society for suppression of, i. 93, 214.Vigo, trick relating to the treasure taken there, i. 99.Vintners, hardships of, i. 161.W.Wachsel, Mr. letters of, relating to German emigrants, i. 65.Wager, pedestrian, i. 235, 287. ii.133.Wales, Prince of, marriage described, i. 303.—— —— —— attempt to assassinate, ii.144.—— Frederick, Prince of, a corporal, ii.178.Walpole, Sir R. beats a comedian, ii.180.Watchmen. SeeBeadle.Watermen, vulgar jests and abuse by, i. 158, 258, 384.Water Theatre, ii.127.Weavers, Spitalfields, violence of, ii.30,51,59,69,101.Welsh charity school, i. 15.Wells, of the Bear-garden, epitaph on, ii.154.—— New Tunbridge, ii.181.—— Sadler's, ii.150.—— —— dreadful accident at, ii.227.Welton, Dr. his religious assembly dispersed, ii.29.West, Matthew, first who divided lottery tickets, ii.3.Whale, skeleton of one exhibited, ii.117.Wife, advertising for, i. 239.Wigs, strange method of stealing them, i. 104.—— high price and importance of, ii.313,315,318.Wild, Jonathan, account of his villanies, ii.41.Wilkes, John, Esq. burning of North Briton, ii.65.—— —— address of, to the freeholders of Middlesex, ii.72.Williams, Renwick, theMonster, i. 217.Wool-combers, procession of, i. 288.Work-house, London, statement concerning, i. 25.—— Quaker, an example for others, i. 286.Wren, Sir C. author of the present style of building, ii.365.Y.Youth, manner of educating, i. 326.Z.Zeal, religious, instances of, i. 402, 423.


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