In these new public wash-houses, the wife can do the whole of her washing and have it ironed and finished in two hours. And it was in the highest degree interesting to observe the means by which this operation in all its various departments can be carried on so rapidly and so well, and at the same time, for so small a payment.
The baths are also much frequented by the lower classes, but that most generally on the Saturday. And then the numbers are so great, that the lobbies are crowded with people waiting for their turns. Both these institutions are of incalculable benefit to the domestic life of the poor.
What the model dwelling-houses are and may become for the same class, the following anecdote may suffice to prove.
“On one of my visits to the Metropolitan buildings,” related to me Dr. S. S., one of the noble men who was foremost in their establishment, “I saw a woman standing at her open door. She greeted me so pleasantly, and with so kind an expression, that I was involuntarily compelled to stand and speak to her. She invited me into her dwelling, a sitting-room and kitchen, (but which also was a sitting-room,) showed me how prettily arranged she and her husband had every thing here, the beautiful, extensive prospect from the window, and how convenient was every thing within; she showed me their flowers, books, birds, and seemed to be made most sincerely happy by all these things. I fell into conversation with her, and by this means became acquainted with her history.
“‘We have been in better circumstances,’ said she; ‘at one time, indeed, we were very well off. But my husband became surety for a friend in whom he had as entire faith as in himself. His friend, however, became bankrupt, and by this means we lost nearly all that we possessed. We were obliged to sell a part of our furniture, and to remove from our comfortable dwelling to one much worse, but of a rent which we could afford. Here, however, new misfortunes met us; every thing began to go downward with us; we were obliged to sell the greater part of that which was yet left, and again to remove. We took a house in one of the suburbs of London, the best that we could get for the low rent which we could now afford. But it was a gloomy, damp, ugly, and in the highest degree inconvenient dwelling. When my husband used to come into the gloomy, chilly room, he became, as it were, struck with numbness. He sat silent, without taking pleasure in any thing; he could not even open a book, and reading used formerly to be his greatest delight. ‘It is all over with us now,’ thought I to myself, ‘and we must sink down into wretched poverty.’
“‘One day, however, I saw by chance, in the newspaper, an advertisement of rooms here at a reasonable rate, and I thought, if we could only manage to get into these rooms, he would perhaps come round again. I persuaded him therefore to let us go and look at them. These rooms which we now have, were fortunately still untenanted; and as we could produce the required certificate of character and respectability, we were accepted as tenants. My husband had not been long in these cheerful, excellent rooms, before he again took to his books, and began to work afresh. ‘Thank God,’ thought I, ‘now are we right again!’
“‘And so it was. My husband now earns good wages, and is promised an advance in them. Our rent costs but three shillings a week. We are now again getting on in the world—God be praised!’”
And a hand extended to the sinking—light, air, health, hope to those who sit in darkness—behold, these are offered by this institution of a truly Christian community, to the children of desolation. Prepare ye the way of the Lord!
“If you could remain longer with us,” said the same friend of humanity to me, “I would take you with me in my walks through the city, and I would show you, not our palaces and places of magnificence, but our wretchedness, and that which we do to alleviate it.”
And I have now seen sufficient thereof for me to say, that much is done, but that still more yet remains to be done. How much may be conceived from this single fact, that out of the immense population of the London poor only about fifteen hundred persons can be accommodated in the model dwelling-house!