London and the environs are overwhelmed with population. Every description of the
inhabitants 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 the sombre cast 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 and
unfurnished 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 what
quantity 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 is What 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 be scented as 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 of low ladies 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 of turned-up bedsteads, and beds inclosed in resemblances of chests of drawers and book-cases. These
unwholesome 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 in furnished lodgings.
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.