pillory, also free and
open-air exhibitions; there were the great fairs of Bartholomew,
Charlton, Fairlop Oak, and Barnet; there were also lotteries. Besides
these amusements, which were all for the lower orders as well as for
the rich, they had their mug-houses, whither the men resorted to drink
beer, spruce, and purl; and for music there was the street
ballad-singer, to say nothing of the bear-warden's fiddle and the band
of marrow-bones and cleavers. Lastly, for those of more elevated
tastes, there was the ringing of the church bells. Now, with the
exception of the last named, we have suppressed every single one of
these amusements. What have we put in their place? Since the working
classes are no longer permitted to amuse themselves after the old
fashions--which, to do them justice, they certainly do not seem to
regret--how do they amuse themselves?

Everybody knows, in general terms, how the English working classes do
amuse themselves. Let us, however, set down the exact facts, so far as
we can get at them, and consider them. First, it must be remembered as
a gain--so many other things having been lost--that the workman of the
present day possesses an accomplishment, one weapon, which was denied
to his fathers--_he can read_. That possession ought to open a
boundless field; but it has not yet done so, for the simple reason
that we have entirely forgotten to give the working man anything to
read. This, if any, is a case in which the supply should have preceded
and created the demand. Books are dear; besides, if a man wants to buy
books, there is no one to guide him or tell him what he should get.
Suppose, for instance, a studious working man anxious to teach himself
natural history, how is he to know the best, latest, and most
trustworthy books? And so for every branch of learning. Secondly,
there are no free libraries to speak of; I find, in London, one for
Camden Town, one for Bethnal Green, one for South London, one for
Notting Hill, one for Westminster, and one for the City; and this
seems to exhaust the list. It would be interesting to know the daily
average of evening visitors at these libraries. There are three
millions of the working classes in London: there is, therefore, one
free library for every half-million, or, leaving out a whole
three-fourths in order to allow for the children and the old people
and those who are wanted at home, there is one library for every
125,000 people. The accommodation does