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A single instance where, Self laid aside,
And Justice taking place of fear and pride,
Thou with an equal eye didst Genius view,
And give to Merit what was Merit's due ?
Genius and Merit are a sure offence,
And thy soul sickens at the name of Sense.
Is any one so foolish to succeed?

On Envy's altar he is doomed to bleed.
Hogarth, a guilty pleasure in his eyes,
The place of Executioner supplies.

See how he gloats, enjoys the sacred feast,
And proves himself by cruelty a Priest."

The caricature of Churchill bore this title: 'The Bruiser, C. Churchill (once the Rev.), in the character of a Russian Hercules, regaling himself after having killed the monster Caricatura, that so sorely galled his virtuous friend, the heavenborn Wilkes.' Churchill complained that Hogarth had violated the sanctities of private life in this Caricature. He appears to have forgotten his own attacks upon Hogarth's age, and Wilkes's allusions to the painter's domestic infelicity. Churchill, in such a matter, was fairer game. However high his genius, his conduct was an outrage upon the decencies of a not very scrupulous age. Educated at Westminster— a remarkable boy, who had the distinction of being the friend of Cowper-he rushed from the schoolboy's real freedom into the fearful responsibilities of a most unhappy marriage. He finally took orders-became a curate in the country, and afterwards in London; had two sons-kept a school-became embarrassed in his circumstances -rushed to dissipation-separated from his wife-and was raised at once into notoriety by the publication of his 'Rosciad.' In a few months he became the most marked man of his time. He had a real hatred of hypocrisy; but he manifested that hatred by a contempt for opinion which looked, and really was, something different from virtue. He threw off his clerical dress, and appeared in a blue coat with metal buttoms. He resigned his lectureship of St. John's, Westminster, and became the associate of Wilkes in the habitual profligacies of his private hours. It is a sad story. Churchill was fitted for better things. He has left much satire that is masterly in its temporary purposes. Had he not been prematurely cut off in the midst of his thoughtless career, he might have taken a high place amongst those who have filled the world with what the world "will not willingly let die."

EVENING EMPLOYMENT.

EVERY man of business is aware that a great effort is now making in the metropolis and the great provincial towns to obtain for shopmen, clerks, and other servants, a reduction in the hours of labour. This is a new principle, which was presented to men's minds only a few years ago, and which has gradually taken its root in public opinion. When this new principle was first promulgated, it

met with general reprobation on the part of employers, many of whom spoke their sentiments before they had consulted their judgments. They imagined that this reduction would be attended with a loss of trade to them, the amount of which was numerically identified with the hours thus to be surrendered. But other people argued very naturally that their customers would still buy what they wanted, though

they had only ten hours instead of twelve, or twelve hours instead of fourteen, to make their purchases. They were not always busy; they would have ample time left for business; and these, with a host of minor reasonings, united to that spirit of fair play and innate justice which are so indigenous in the English_heart, have at length made converts of many considerable employers, and the opinion is fast gaining ground that their assistants ought to be relieved of some part of their present duty by adopting the new system of short hours. Some large firms have already had the good sense and the grace to set the example, by closing their warehouses at six or seven o'clock, instead of nine or ten.

The progress of public opinion during the last two years, especially among that important class the drapers, mainly owing to the Metropolitan Drapers' Association, has been so great as to warrant the expectation that the principle of short hours will before long be generally adopted throughout the kingdom.

But the new system of abridged labour must bring with it a great change in the habits of several hundred thousands of men, for which no preparation is being made, and which no man seems to anticipate! It is a moral revolution that the country is on the eve of witnessing, and this immense consequence is left to the chapter of accidents! What is the measure? Time, new time, given to several hundreds of thousands of industrious men. Two, three, or four hours which were full, are made empty. This new time must be spent, and the way in which it shall be spent will necessarily have an effect on the character of the whole of that vast class, and its consequences will operate on the entire nation. Let it be remembered that the two or three hours given up to the employed are evening hours. That these hours will mostly be spent out of doors, by men the major part of whom are young, a large number of whom are unmarried, isolated, having no homes properly so called, no domestic circles to frequent, and, finally, no preparation for proper use of leisure.

the

The new time, we repeat, must be spent, and it will be spent, in seeking

amusement after labour in those places of public resort which exist for that purpose. Now we ask every man of experience, whether London, or Manchester, or Leeds, or Huddersfield, or Glasgow, or Edinburgh, presents at the present day, either in quantity or in quality, the opportunities for recreation and amusement which this new state of things must require? They do not. They are all very scantily provided with innoxious diversions; but, on the contrary, as if it were an understood thing that pleasure must always be left-handed, these great towns are but too amply furnished with pastimes which are both degrading and dangerous. The injury which these latter already produce on the morals of the class we refer to is obvious and great enough. It will be infinitely greater, unless the want of good and salutary amusements be acknowledged and provided for in due time.

Let

The better to understand this subject, let us take a view of London during those hours which are set aside for recreation by those who have leisure. us follow this laborious population to their multiform diversions. Let us see what amusements there are, and how the liberated son of industry spends his time and his money before he goes to bed.

These resorts consist of theatres, taverns, other taverns with theatrical entertainments attached to them, the common public-houses, the shilling concerts, the dancing-rooms, with their weekly balls, the singing-rooms, and a few exhibitions.

There may be a class of young men so strongly fortified against the influence of these public resorts as to pass through them unscathed. Parental advice, fatherly warnings, a strong discipline in early youth, good education, a sound judgment, a firm mind, may enable, here and there, one young man in a thousand to visit these places without being seriously affected in his morals. But how different must be the consequence in respect to the majority!

Look at our THEATRES; look at the houses all around them. Have they not given a taint to the very districts they belong to? The Coburg Theatre, now called the Victoria, the Surrey, what are they? At Christmas time, at each of

these minor theatres, may be seen such an appalling mass of loathsome vice and depravity as goes beyond Eugène Sué, and justifies the most astounding revelations in Smollett.

But suppose we overlook the dependencies, and turn to the stage itself; what is there to recreate the weary spirit panting for diversion? The great instructive drama of our country is almost entirely banished from it, with one or two encouraging exceptions. What may be called a good play, a clever representation of our present habits, manners, and prejudices, does not appear once in twelve months. Most of the playhouses produce nothing but a series of translations from the French, so that they become the images not of what we are ourselves, but what our neighbours are. Thus all the minor theatres are so perpetually glutted with pieces of exciting interest, in which crime is made the moral, and the ruffian made the hero, that society seems to be turned upside down, so long as you bide within their walls. It is grievous to say so, but we are bound to tell the truth fearlessly, since we know it-the London theatres, with only one or two exceptions, are not in a state to be recommended to the class we are addressing. The young man who makes it a practice to frequent them will mis-spend his time; his leisure hours will not tend to his improvement, they will not even leave him where he was before.

That large class of TAVERNS, houses of public resort, at which more than one half of the recreation out of doors is sought for in London after candle-light, is rather to be studied and reflected upon by a man communing with himself, than to be frankly laid bare. The number of these houses is prodigious, and many a man of family, who ought to share his leisure hours with his wife and children, spends more money in these dull boxes year by year than would serve to pay his taxes, nay, sometimes even his rent! When a tradesman, or clerk, or young shopman, who is married, comes out of one of these houses at midnight, and closes the door, after spending his eighteen pence or his two shillings, the amount of what it may have cost his whole family to live upon that day, what must be his

remorse, if he is a thinking being? Almost everything that is sold there is adulterated and unfit for use. Gambling, in every variety of shape, is spreading like an epidemic amongst them. The frequenter soon becomes a sloven, and by-and-by a bankrupt of the worst class, that is, an insolvent through his own ex

cesses.

Some contrivers, who have more ingenuity than social sympathy, have imagined a sort of duplex business, which combines the theatre and the taverns. The real object of this unnatural alliance is to prevail upon frequenters to stay longer and drink more than they otherwise would. These houses cannot be described here, but they are so bad in their tendency, that discipline ought to step in to rescue young men of industrious habits from their contaminating influence. It ought to be understood in regular houses of business that a young clerk or shopman, if he wished to retain any respect, would be expected to refrain from visiting them.

As

THE SHILLING CONCERTS are infinitely less liable to objection than the theatre, the tavern, or the tavern-theatre. there is no drinking connected with them, they can do no harm, provided the money itself can be spared. But the moderate charge has the effect of admitting many bad characters, against whom all young men should be on their guard. In some great manufacturing towns there are admirable concerts connected with literary institutions, at which the admission is only threepence. This is indeed a real good.

DANCING-ROOMS in London generally belong to dancing-masters, where they have balls once or twice a week. It is unfortunate that a diversion in itself so entertaining and innoxious as dancing is, should be rendered liable to censure and discouragement by the promiscuous nature of the company. Besides, these houses are actually converted into taverns by the introduction of liquors of every kind.

Independently of the public resorts we have here enumerated, and to which thousands upon thousands throng every evening, there are others of a worse character still, that we do not wish to

allude to. They are not for men living within the social pale. They belong to the vagrant, and they lead directly to the hulks. Against resorts so infamous all warning is unnecessary, they carry in their very aspect a look which cautions and turns away all but those who appear to have been born with the elements of depravity, and whose very nature has a downward shelve.

Let any reflective mind look at this meagre roll of public amusements, and what must he think? How stinted the variety, even if otherwise without objection!

It is only fair to turn our eyes now upon those pastimes which London likewise affords of a beneficial character.

The most important of this class are the LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTIONS, such as the Mechanics', the City of London, the Marylebone, the Southwark, &c. These excellent establishments are so many gymnasia for enlarging, developing, and strengthening the mind. The annual outlay, including the entrance fees, and the additional charges of two or three courses of lectures, is so small compared with the expense of frequenting the tavern, the theatre, and such like places, that it sinks into insignificance. And yet every penny spent in this manner is so much money laid up in a Bank, of which a man's understanding is the owner. It does not vanish in a moment, like other costly enjoyments, but it enters into a durable fabric, which a man of sense is continually building to make him respected by his fellow-men. These institutions deserve the countenance and are entitled to the encouragement of every man and woman in the metropolis who is sincerely desirous to promote the good morals of the people. The influence which they exercise already is altogether favourable and very great; but that still greater influence which they might be made to exercise if they were strenuously supported by the great mass of the inhabitants, who live under the authority of the laws and acknowledge obedience to sound social discipline, would change and renovate the whole framework of society.

There are certain things which might

be done by those who preside over these institutions, the effect of which would tend to diffuse the benefits we speak of. These gentlemen are called upon to play a great part in the revolution which is so closely at hand, and which will result from the system of short hours. Let them forbear a little to take man as he ought to be, and take him as he is. Let them remember that those who have yet to learn are but as children to those who know already. Let them bend and stoop to the class which for the first time is about to have leisure for mental improvement. Let them study the tastes as well as the wants of this huge army of unlettered but intelligent pupils, panting for instruction. Let them begin by teaching those things which will not press too heavily upon a new and raw attention, which at first possesses no strength, and must therefore be gently treated. To wean a population from the habits of indulgence to those of discipline is a noble but a difficult task, and it will ever be found either to succeed or to fail according to the alacrity with which the master removes the burden from the student's to his own shoulders.

The first step to be taken, if not by the existing institutions, but by others upon a larger scale, is to introduce a large variety of light and agreeable entertainments within their walls. Mathematics, chemistry, medicine, logic, and history, are capital things at due times and seasons, but they will not be found to hold that loadstone which will attract this vast congregation of new candidates. Still it would not be wise to surrender so great an opportunity of doing good, because the present system prevailing at the institutions requires some modification before the benefit can be extended. The point on which the institutions stand is this: the young man who is possessed of a taste for instruction, who is already partly turned and fashioned by education, may come here and be rendered more learned than he was when he left school. He has some knowledge before he steps over the sill; he has the taste for learning; he is a member of a very small body of the people; and this is why the institutions have but a small number of subscribers.

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