Let any one in the evening visit the homes of the labouring class in a poor neighbourhood, and he will find, in many cases, a barely-furnished room, a numerous family of small children,—­perhaps forgetting the pangs of hunger in the obliviousness of sleep,—­a wife, with care-worn features, sitting in solitary wretchedness, ruminating on wants she knows not how to supply—­namely, clothes and food for her children on the morrow, and on debts which she has no means of discharging.  But where is he who should be sharing her cares, bidding her be of good cheer, and devising with her some means of alleviating their mutual distress?  Where is the father of the sleeping babes, the husband of the watchful wife?  Go to the public-house; you will see him there with a host of his companions, of like character and circumstances, smoking, drinking, singing, blaspheming, gambling—­ruining his health, spending his money; as jovial as though he had no wretched wife, no starving babes at home! and as lavish of money which should procure them food, as the man who is thriving on his excesses could wish him to be.

I never look on a public-house without considering it as the abode of the evil genius of the neighbourhood; the despoiler of industry, the destroyer of domestic comfort; and heartily do I wish, that some means could be devised for abolishing these resorts of wickedness; that some legislative enactment may render it unlawful for any one to keep such places.  With respect to a peculiar sort of beverage, it has been declared to be illegal to afford its purchasers accommodation for drinking it on the premises.  Why not extend it to other liquors?  I know this would be pronounced an infringement on English liberty!  The worst of men would raise this outcry against the measure.  But surely it should rather be called a preventive of English licentiousness.  All good men would consider it as such.  I would not rob the labourer of his daily allowance of a beverage which is believed by many to be of essential service, when taken in moderation; but I would have him drink it at home, that his wife and children may participate in his enjoyment.  Perhaps, it will be said, a man closely confined to labour all day, needs some relaxation from domestic cares—­that this can only be found in change of scene, and in social company.  I will concede this.  The plea of health, though often speciously advanced, cannot be denied.  But is it necessary for his health, that this change of scene should be found in a close tap-room, within a few yards of his home, where he drinks to a ruinous excess till a late hour,—­breathing all the while a hot atmosphere of tobacco-smoke?  Is it not possible to obtain the change of scene, and the relaxation of social converse, by mutual visits amongst friends similarly situated,—­by a ramble to the suburbs,—­or, in cases where the daily occupation affords too little opportunity for exercise, are there not places established for gymnastic exercises,—­and might not others be formed for the like purposes?  Certain I am that the abolition of public-houses, in large cities, as places of daily resort for the adult labouring poor, would be attended with the most salutary consequences.  I know of nothing that must so certainly tend to their improvement both in character and circumstances.