our nobler work to
show to the nations of the earth how, while our higher classes live in
refinement and wealth, there is no class, however humble, but can joy in
the possession of social happiness and rights.

But what, you ask, has this to do with Caldwell's? Only this, that of
the class to which I have referred, I believe more may be found of an
evening at Caldwell's, than anywhere else in London. It is not all
dressmakers who toil thus severely and unnaturally; and few of them are
there who do not in the course of the year find time to pay Caldwell's a
visit. Who has not heard of Caldwell's _Soirees Dansantes_? Are they
not advertised in every paper? Are they not posted in gigantic bills in
every street? In quiet country lanes, miles and miles away from town, do
we not come across the coloured letters by which Mr Caldwell announces
his entertainment to the world? Who is Mr John Caldwell? We will let
him speak for himself. He has an establishment in Dean-street, Soho.
The building cost him nearly four thousand pounds. On boxing-night he
had as many as 600 customers, "and on average nights," he tells us, "I
have about 200." The charge for admission is eight-pence. Mr Caldwell
has a public-house just by, and from that supplies wine, and ale, and
spirits. "I have never had a case of drunkenness in my place for years;
I am very particular--I never let a drunken man remain." On an average
about thirty glasses of spirits are drunk in the dancing room in the
course of an evening, and about forty glasses of beer. "I believe my
place is carried on in as respectable a manner as can be. Some of the
first noblemen come; there are some very respectable tradesmen round the
neighbourhood, and a great many young people from the neighbourhood. The
rooms are principally supported by the working classes." The dancing
saloon opens at eight, and is closed at a quarter to twelve. Such is the
evidence given by Mr Caldwell himself before the select committee of the
House of Commons on public-houses. As is perfectly natural, it is all
_coleur de rose_. The union of the first noblemen and the _elite_ of the
working classes over spirits-and-water, or in the mazy dance, is a
beautiful specimen of fraternisation, and the small quantity of beer and
spirits drunk by 200 persons indicates an amount of sobriety rare in
places of public amusement. I think Mr Caldwell has a little understated
the case. I fear he forgot to tell t