Mr. George Smart obtained two gold medals from the Society of Arts for this invention. The names of the machine chimney-sweepers in different parts of London may be obtained from Mr. Wilt, secretary of the “Society for superseding Climbing Boys,” No. 125, Leadenhall-street; the treasurer of the institution is W. Tooke, esq., F. R. S. Any person may become a member, and acquaint himself with the easy methods by which the machine is adopted to almost any chimney. As the climbing chimney-sweepers are combining to oppose it, all humane individuals will feel it a duty to inquire whether they should continue willing instruments in the hands of the “profession” for the extension of the present cruel practice.
The late Mrs. Montagu gave an annual dinner to the poor climbing boys which ceased with her death.
And is all pity for the poor sweeps fled,
Since Montagu is numbered with the dead?
She who did once the many sorrows weep,
That met the wanderings of the woe-worn sweep!
Who, once a year, bade all his griefs depart,
On May’s sweet morn would doubly cheer his heart!
Washed was his little form, his shirt was clean,
On that one day his real face was seen,
His shoeless feet, now boasted pumps—and new.
The brush and shovel gaily held to view!
The table spread, his every sense was charmed,
And every savoury smell his bosom warmed;
His light heart joyed to see such goodly cheer,
And much he longed to taste the mantling beer:
His hunger o’er—the scene was little heaven—
If riches thus can bless, what blessings might be given!
But, she is gone! none left to soothe their grief,
Or, once a year, bestow their meed of beef!
Now forth he’s dragged to join the beggar’s dance;
With heavy heart, he makes a slow advance,
Loudly to clamour for that tyrant’s good,
Who gives with scanty hand his daily food!
It is the interest of the “United Society of Master Chimney Sweepers” to appear liberal to the wretched beings who are the creatures of their mercy; of the variation and degrees of that mercy, there is evidence before the committee of the house of commons. Sympathy for the oppressed in the breast of their oppressors is reasonably to be suspected. On the minutes of the “Society for superseding Climbing Boys,” there are cases that make humanity shudder; against their recurrence there is no security but the general adoption of machines in chimnies—instead of children.
Mr. Montgomery’s “Chimney Sweeper’s Friend, and Climbing Boys’ Album,” is a volume of affecting appeal, dedicated to the king, “in honour of his majesty’s condescending and exemplary concern for the effectual deliverance of the meanest, the poorest, and weakest of British born subjects, from unnatural, unnecessary, and unjustifiable personal slavery and moral degradation.” It contains a variety of beautiful compositions in prose and verse: one of them is—
The Chimney Sweeper.
Communicated by Mr. Charles Lamb,
from a very rare and curious little work,
Mr. Blake’s “Songs of Innocence.”
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me, while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry, “Weep! weep! weep!”
So your chimnies I sweep, and in soot I sleep.