he committee that the drinking at
his place was in the refreshment-room down-stairs, not in the
dancing-room above; while in the latter the small quantity he asserts is
consumed, I am inclined to think, much more may be disposed of
down-stairs. In the course of his own examination some disagreeable
truths oozed out. We give a couple of questions and answers in proof of
this.--Sir George Grey: "Do you mean to say that the dancing-saloon would
have no sufficient attraction for the people unless there were connected
with it the facility of obtaining spirituous liquors?" "_I think not_;
_the people want a glass of wine_, _or negus_, _or brandy-and-water_".
Again, Mr Caldwell has been unable to procure a license on account of the
opposition of the publicans in the neighbourhood. The Chairman asks, "Do
you think the publicans would withdraw their opposition?" "_Yes_, _they
begin to find my house an advantage_; _when parties leave my rooms_,
_they stand together at the corner of the streets_, _and say_, _We will
have a parting glass_. _They do not all have it at my rooms_."

Now this answer does not well coincide with Mr Caldwell's former
evidence. It is quite as much the drink as the dancing that is the
attraction, and as to his respectable tradesmen, and the fact of persons
not being tipsy, and that of some of the first noblemen coming there, all
these assertions are fairly open to criticism. It was only the other day
I heard a London magistrate declare that publicans never could tell when
a person was tipsy; and as to respectability, your Robsons, and Camerons,
and Sadleirs are always considered highly respectable. Ask the first
person you meet about your neighbours. What is the answer? Oh, they are
a highly respectable family; they are immensely rich. And as to noblemen
coming into such places, I imagine that would be precisely the reason why
the judicious father of a pretty girl would prefer her dancing anywhere
rather than in Mr Caldwell's establishment in Dean-street. I have not
much faith in the benefits of that species of the mixture of all ranks.
Like the Irishman's reciprocity, it is all on one side. Tennyson makes
his hero tell Lady Clara Vere de Vere--

"At me you smiled, but unbeguiled
I saw the snare and I retired,--
The daughter of a hundred earls,
You are not one to be desired."

But perchance a young maiden, led away by the excitement of the hour,
could not find it in he