Degraded condition of parents—Dreadful effects of drunkenness—Neglect of children inevitable and wilful—The tutorship of wicked companions—Tricks of pantomimes injurious—Mischiefs arising from sending children to pawnbrokers—Fairs demoralizing—All Kinds of begging to be repressed.

* * * * *

"Why thus surprised to see the infant race
Treading the paths of vice? Their eyes can trace
Their parents' footsteps in the way they go:
What shame, what fear, then, can their young hearts know?"

* * * * *

Appalling as the effects of juvenile delinquency are, I think we may discover a principal cause of them in the present condition and habits of the adult part of the labouring classes. We shall find, very frequently, that infant crime is the only natural produce of evil, by the infallible means of precept and example. I do not intend to assert, that the majority of parents amongst the poor, actually encourage their children in the commission of theft; we may, indeed, fear that some do; as in the instance of the two little girls detected in shop-lifting, whose case was detailed in the preceding chapter; but still, I should hope that such facts are not frequent. If, however, they do not give them positive encouragement in pilfering, the example they set is often calculated to deprave the heart of the child, and, amongst other evil consequences, to induce dishonesty; whilst in other cases we find, that from peculiar circumstances the child is deprived, during the whole day, of the controling presence of a parent, and is exposed to all the poisonous contamination which the streets of large cities afford; and hence appears another cause of evil. Here children come in contact with maturer vice, and are often drawn by its influence from the paths of innocence; as we have already seen in many instances. What resistance can the infant make to the insidious serpents, which thus, as it, were, steal into its cradle, and infuse their poison into its soul? The guardians of its helplessness are heedless or unconscious of its danger, and, alas! it has not the fabled strength of the infant Hercules to crush its venomous assailants. Surely such a view of the frequent origin of crime must awaken our commiseration for its miserable victims, and excite in us a desire to become the defenders of the unprotected.

It will, however, be said by some, "Where are the natural guardians of the child? Where are its parents? Are we to encourage their neglect of duty, by becoming their substitutes? It is their business to look after their children, and not ours." Frequently have I heard such sentiments put forth, and sometimes by persons in whom I knew they were rather owing to a want of reflection than of philanthropy. But a want of thought, or of feeling, it must certainly be; because, on no principle of reason or humanity can we make the unnatural conduct of fathers and mothers, a plea for withholding our protection and assistance from the helpless objects of their cruelty and neglect. If we do so, we not only neglect our duty towards such children, but permit the growth and extension of the evil. We must recollect that they will not merely play their own wicked parts during their lives, but will also become models to the next generation.

It should be remembered here, that I am treating of an evil which extends itself to all classes of society; I am appealing to the prudence of men, that they may, for their own sakes, investigate its cause; I shall hereafter appeal to them as philanthropists, and, still more urgently, as Christians, that they may examine the merits of the remedy I shall propose.

The culpability of many parents is beyond dispute. They not only omit to set their children good examples, and give them good advice, but, on the contrary, instil into their minds the first rudiments of wickedness, and lead them into the paths of vice. Their homes present scenes which human nature shudders at, and which it is impossible truly to describe. There are parents who, working at home, have every opportunity of training up their children "in the way they should go," if they were inclined so to do. Instead of this, we often find, in the case of the fathers, that they are so lost to every principle of humanity, that as soon as they receive their wages, they leave their homes, and hasten with eager steps to the public house; nor do they re-pass its accursed threshold, till the vice-fattening landlord has received the greater part of the money which should support their half-fed, half-clothed wives and children; and till they have qualified themselves, by intoxication, to act worse than brutes on their return home. To men of this description it matters not whether or not their children are proving themselves skilful imitators of their evil example,—they may curse and swear, lie and steal,—so long as they can enjoy the society of their pot companions, it is to them a matter of total indifference.

During my superintendence of the first school, I had a painful facility of examining these matters. Frequently, when I have inquired the cause of the wretched plight in which some of the children were sent to the school,—perhaps with scarcely a shoe to their feet, sometimes altogether without,—I have heard from their mothers the most heart-rending recitals of the husband's misconduct. One family in particular I remember, consisting of seven children, two of whom were in the school; four of them were supported entirely by the exertions of the mother, who declared to me, that she did not receive a shilling from their father for a month together; all the money he got he kept to spend at the public-house; and his family, for what he cared, might go naked, or starve. He was not only a great drunkard, but a reprobate into the bargain; beating and abusing the poor woman, who thus endeavoured to support his children by her labour.

The evil does not always stop here. Driven to the extreme of wretchedness by her husband's conduct, the woman sometimes takes to drinking likewise, and the poor babes are ten thousand times more pitiable than orphans. I have witnessed the revolting sight of a child leading home both father and mother from the public-house, in a disgusting state of intoxication. With tears and entreaties I have seen the poor infant vainly endeavouring to restrain them from increasing their drunkenness, by going into the houses on their way home; they have shaken off the clinging child, who, in the greatest anxiety, waited without to resume its painful task; knowing, all the time, perhaps, that whilst its parents were thus throwing away their money, there was not so much as a crust of bread to appease its hunger at home. Let it not be thought that this is an overcharged picture of facts; it is but a faint, a very faint and imperfect sketch of reality which defies exaggeration. Cases of such depravity, on the part of mothers, I with much pleasure confess to be comparatively rare. Maternal affection is the preventive. But what, let me ask, can be hoped of the children of such parents? What are their characters likely to become under such tuition? With such examples before their eyes, need they leave their homes to seek contamination, or to learn to do evil.

And here I must say, if I were asked to point out, in the metropolis, or any large city, the greatest nuisance, the worst bane of society, the most successful promoter of vice,—I should, without a moment's hesitation, point to the first public-house or spirit dealer's that met my view. Nor can I, in speaking of the causes of juvenile delinquency, omit to say, I think these houses, indirectly, a very great cause of it. Why I think so, my readers will readily conceive from what I have already said. I am sure that Satan has no temple in which he is so devoutly worshiped, or so highly honoured, as the ale-house,—no priest is so devoted as its landlord,—no followers are so zealous in his behalf as its frequenters.

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.

No man can witness the scenes, and doings, of many persons who attend the new beer-houses, without pain and regret, that ever an act of parliament was passed to legalize such places. I have visited some hundreds of such, throughout the country, and can positively assert that the demoralising tendency of too many is awful! Our magistrates must be more careful in granting licences, or the efforts of the wise and good will be neutralized, by the evils concocted at such places. The old inkeepers had a character, and capital at stake. The new beerhouse-keepers, I should say, a majority of them at least, have neither, and consequently are less cautious, having less to lose. Whatever the end of the legislature might have been in enabling the poor to procure a good and cheap article more easily, to be drunk on or off the premises, the thing has not answered the end, and no one can deny, who will take the trouble to visit such places in different counties, that the Act has been a miserable failure, and has been the fruitful source of crime and immorality. What a lesson is this for speculative, short sighted legislators?

Another measure should then be adopted, I would say—destroy the facility of spirit-drinking, by laying on a heavy duty. It is in vain that interested sophistry would plead its benefits in particular cases—such, for instance, as the ludicrous plea of the needfulness of drams for market-women on wet and frosty mornings.[A] Set these specious benefits against the dreadful results to men's health and pockets, from the present low price of spirits, and their consequent enormous consumption; and then let common sense and honesty deliver its judgment.

I have spoken thus candidly and at length upon the subject in the present chapter, though somewhat out of place, because my feelings would not allow me to be less plain or more brief, or to postpone the matter to "a more convenient season." Perhaps in talking of legislative alterations I have been wandering upon forbidden ground; if so, in returning to my proper path, I will comfort myself with this thought:—the progress of improvement, however slow, is sure, and it is certainly advancing in this country; I require no other assurance than the establishment of Infant Schools and Mechanic's.

[Footnote A: Some conception of the fearful height which drunkenness has attained, may be gathered from the fact, that in 1829, the quantity of distilled spirits on which the duty was paid in the three kingdoms, amounted to 23,000,000 of gallons. To form a due estimate, however, of the actual consumption, an immense quantity must be added, obtained by smuggling. Of the rum imported for home consumption, allowing for that re-exported, the quantity was 5,000,000 of gallons. Of brandy and other articles imported, 1,500,000 gallons; making a total, with the omission of all on which the duty was evaded, of 30,000,000 of gallons of ardent spirits consumed in the year. Five millions of revenue grew out of this, but it cost the people 15,000,000_l_. sterling, a which would have paid half-a-year's interest of the national debt.]

"No person," says Sir Astley Cooper "has greater hostility to dram drinking than myself, insomuch that I never suffer any ardent spirits in my house—thinking them evil spirits!—and if the poor could witness the white livers, the dropsies, the shattered nervous systems which I love seen as the consequence of drinking, they would be aware that spirits and poisons were synonymous terms."

Institutions; it will advance, and what the legislature may never be able to accomplish, the spirit of improvement eventually will.

But having considered those cases, in which wilful neglect and bad example may be charged upon the parents, we should not forget to tell those who object to our interference in the duty of a child's natural protectors, that it is not, in every instance, from wilful neglect on their part, that their children are left unprotected in the streets. The circumstances of the labouring classes are such, in many cases, that they are compelled to leave their children either wholly unprotected, or in the charge of some one who frequently becomes a betrayer instead of a defender. The father, perhaps, goes to his daily labour in the morning, before the children are out of bed, and does not return till they are in bed again at night. The mother goes out in like manner, the earnings of the husband being insufficient for the maintenance of the family, and the children are intrusted throughout the day to the care of some girl, whose parents are as poor as themselves, and are glad to let her earn something towards her support. Numbers of little girls thus go out before they are twelve years old, and teach the little children all they know,—commonly to be deceitful, and not unfrequently to be dishonest. The parents, careless or unsuspecting, only make inquiry when they return home if the children have been good and quiet, and of course receive an answer in the affirmative. In the course of a few years the evil consequences begin to show themselves, and then the good folks wonder how or when the seeds of such depravity could have been sown. Many I know will be inclined to smile at the insignificancy of the cause pointed out. I can only say, it is from such springs, however regarded, that the great stream of vice is supplied; and what we laugh at now, for its insignificant origin, will hereafter, in its maturity, laugh at us for our impotence, in vainly endeavouring to stem it. What are parents to do with their children, situated as those are of whom we have just spoken? And very many are so situated. Is it possible for them to perform their duty, as protectors of their children? It requires all their time to labour for their support, and they therefore leave them, unavoidably, either in such hands as we have described, or to take care of themselves; to range the streets, and form such associations as may there happen to fall in their way. They get into company with older delinquents, and become first their instruments, and then their associates; till at length they find their way into a gaol.

This is no delusive way of accounting for the matter,—it is a solution which experience and observation have taught and established. I have traced the progress of delinquency, in actual life, from its earliest stages,—from the little trembling pilferer of the apple-stall, not more than four or five years old, to the confirmed thief of nine or ten years—who had been in gaol three or four times, and was as proud of his dexterity in thieving, and hardihood under punishment, as he could have been of the most virtuous accomplishment, or the most becoming fortitude. The infant thief, conscious of shame, and trembling with fear, will tell you on detection, that "Tommy," or "Billy," some older associate, set him to do it; you let him go: he joins his companions, who laugh at the story he tells, ridicule him for his fears, praise him for his dexterity, and rejoice in his escape. It will be very easy to imagine how, under a course of such treatment, the young offender so soon dismisses both shame and fear; and learns to forget everything but the gain and glory of his crimes.

It is no small matter of credit with older thieves—(by older thieves I still mean boys of nine or ten years old)—to have under their tuition two or three pupils. I have seen in my walks as many as seven or eight sallying forth from the alleys in the neighbourhood of Spitalfields, under the command, as it were, of a leader, a boy perhaps not more than nine or ten years old. I have watched their plans, and have noticed that it was usual to send first the youngest boy to attempt the theft—perhaps the object to be obtained was only a bun from the open window of a pastry-cook's shop; if he failed, another was sent, whilst the rest were lurking at the corner of some court, ready to flee in case their companion was detected; and I have sometimes seen, that after all the rest had failed, either from want of skill, or the too great vigilance of the shop-keeper, the boy who acted as leader has started out, and by a display of superior dexterity, would have carried off the prize, had it not happened that some one was thus purposely watching his conduct. When detected, if an old offender, he will either look you in tire face with the greatest effrontery and an expression of defiance, or he will feign to cry, and tell you he was hungry, has no father nor mother, &c.; though frequently, on further inquiry, I have found the whole story to be false.

Alas! there is one class of children, with whom I know not how to deal, I mean those without the natural protectors. The man can for a more trifle get rid of all responsibility, though in general, most able to bear it, the woman has the dead weight, which often proves the destruction of her offspring, and herself, suicide and murder are the first-fruits frequently to her, but she loves her offspring, and perhaps he who deceived her, and for both their sakes fights the battle against fearful odds; for a few years at least, she will not last long, at length she sinks! she dies! where, oh! where! is the guardian for her child! Reader, there are many thousands of such! What becomes of them? But there are other mothers of this class, more ignorant, have less of feeling, no education, no training, they advance from bad to worse, until they have five or six children, here are circumstances for children to come into the world grievously against them. What becomes of these? To avoid painful details I will answer the question, they become a pest to society, each a demoralizer of others, living upon the public—as tramps, begging impostors, thieves, teachers of thieves, and cost the country more than five times their number born under other and better circumstances. God grant that spiritual light, philosophical light, and scientific light united, may enable us to find the remedy!

The two grand causes of juvenile delinquency, we have seen then, to be the evil example of parents themselves; and the bad associations which children form at an early age, when, through neglect, they are suffered to be in the streets. In the first instance, the parents of the children are wholly without excuse; in the second, though in some cases we may blame them, in others we cannot justly do so; but must admit, as an exculpation, the unfortunate circumstances of their condition in life.

It would be easy to shew, by a multitude of instances, the evil effects produced on children of a tender age by street associations. But I think enough has been said to convince every reflecting mind that it is highly necessary that we should interfere in behalf of children so situated; and I shall conclude the present chapter by some remarks on the various habits and practices of the poor classes, which have at least an injurious tendency on the character of the rising generation.

As children are such imitative beings, I cannot help making a few observations on the tricks which are usually introduced into our pantomimes. It is well known that those of the clown form a principal part of the entertainment. It is also equally well known, that the pantomimes are particularly designed to amuse children, for which reason they are generally represented during the Christmas holidays, If, however, they were merely intended to amuse them, they who have introduced them have, perhaps, gained their object; but what kind of instruction they afford, I shall here attempt to shew. I do not recollect to have seen a pantomime myself without pilfering being introduced under every possible form, such as shop lifting, picking pockets, &c. &c. Can it then be for a moment supposed improbable that children, after having witnessed these exhibitions, should endeavour to put the thing into practice, whenever an opportunity offers, and try whether they cannot take a handkerchief from a gentleman's pocket with the same ease and dexterity as the clown in the play did; or, if unsuccessful in this part of the business, that they should try their prowess in carrying off a shoulder of mutton from a butcher's shop,—a loaf from a baker,—or lighter articles from the pastry-cools, fruiterer, or linen-draper? For, having seen the dexterity of the clown, in these cases, they will not be at a loss for methods to accomplish, by sleight of hand, their several purposes. In my humble opinion, children cannot go to a better place for instruction in these matters, or to a place more calculated to teach them the art of pilfering to perfection, than to the theatre, when pantomimes are performed. To say that the persons who write and introduce these pieces are in want of sense, may not be true; but I must charge them with a want of sufficient thought, right feeling and principle, in not calculating on their baneful effects on the rising generation, for whose amusement it appears they are chiefly produced. Many unfortunate persons, who have heard sentence of death passed upon them, or who are now suffering under the law, in various ways, have had to lament that the first seeds of vice were sown in their minds while viewing the pilfering tricks of clowns in pantomimes. Alas! too little do we calculate on the direful effects of this species of amusement on the future character of the young. We first permit their minds to be poisoned, by offering them the draught, and then punish them by law for taking it. Does not the wide world afford a variety of materials sufficient for virtuous imitation, without descending to that which is vicious? It is much easier to make a pail of pure water foul, than it is to make a pail of foul water pure. It must not be supposed that I wish to sweep off every kind of amusement from the juvenile part of society, but I do wish to sweep off all that has a pernicious tendency. The limits which I have prescribed to myself will not allow me to enter more at large into this subject; otherwise I could produce a number of facts which would prove, most unquestionably, the propriety of discontinuing these exhibitions.

A conversation which I once heard between some boys who were playing at what is called pitch-in-the-hole, will prove the truth of my assertions. "Bill," said one of the boys to the other, "when did you go to the play last?" "On Monday night," was the reply. "Did you see the new pantomime?"—"Yes." "Well, did you see any fun?"—"Yes, I believe I did too. I saw the clown bone a whole hank of sausages, and put them into his pocket, and then pour the gravy in after them. You would have split your sides with laughing, had you been there. A.B. and C.D. were with me, and they laughed as much as I did. And what do you think A.B. did the next night?"—"How should I know."—"Why," replied the other, "he and C.D. boned about two pounds of sausages from a pork shop, and we had them for supper." This conversation I heard from a window, which looked into a ruinous place where boys assembled to toss up for money, and other games. This fact alone, without recording any more, is sufficient to show the evil of which I have been speaking. And I do most sincerely hope that those persons who have any influence over the stage, will use their utmost endeavours, speedily, to expunge every thing thus calculated to promote evil inclinations in the minds of children, and vicious habits in the lives of men.

It is not impossible that scenic exhibitions might be made a most powerful means of instruction to the young, and tend to promote virtue and happiness, as well as be a means of rational amusement, but as they now exist, their extirpation is desirable.

As I have had much experience from being brought up in London, I am perfectly aware of the evil impressions and dangerous temptations that the children of the poor are liable to fall into; and therefore most solemnly affirm that nothing in my view would give so much happiness to the community at large, as the taking care of the affections of the infant children of the poor.

There is, moreover, a practice very prevalent among the poor, which does greater mischief than the people are generally aware of, and that is, sending their children to the pawnbrokers. It is well known that many persons send children, scarcely seven years of age, to these people, with pledges of various sorts, a thing that cannot be too severely condemned. I know an instance of a little boy finding a shawl in the street; and being in the habit of going to the pawnbroker's for his mother, instead of taking the shawl home to his parents, he actually pawned it and spent all the money, which might never have been known by his parents, had not the mother found the duplicate in his pocket. It is evident, then, that many parents have no one but themselves to blame for the misconduct of their children; for had this child not been accustomed to go to such a place for his parents, he would never have thought of going there for himself; and the shawl most likely would have been carried home to them. Indeed, there is no knowing where such a system will end, for if the children are suffered to go to such places, they may in time pledge that which does not belong to them; and so easy is the way of turning any article into money, that we find most young thieves, of both sexes, when apprehended, have some duplicates about them. Those persons, therefore, who take pledges of children (contrary to the act of parliament, whether they know it or not,) ought to be severely reprimanded; for I am persuaded, that such conduct is productive of very great mischief indeed.

Taking children to fairs, is another thing which is also productive of much harm. At the commencement of the first school, seventy or eighty children were frequently absent whenever there was a fair near London; but the parents were afterwards cured of this, and we seldom had above twenty absentees at fair-time. Several of the children have told me that their parents wished to take them, but they requested to be permitted to come to school instead. Indeed the parents, finding that they can enjoy themselves better without their children, are very willing to leave them at school.

It is a difficult matter to persuade grown persons of the impropriety of attending fairs, who have been accustomed to it when children; but children are easily persuaded from it; for if they are properly entertained at school, they will not have the least desire to go to such places.

I cannot quit this subject without relating one or two more very bad habits to which children are addicted, and which are, perhaps, fit subjects for the consideration of the Mendicity Society. As it is the object of that society to clear the streets of beggars, it would be well if they would put a stop to those juvenile beggars, many of whom are children of respectable parents, who assemble together to build what they call a GROTTO; to the great annoyance of all passengers in the street. However desirous persons may be of encouraging ingenuity in children, I think it is doing them much harm to give them money when they ask for it in this way. Indeed it would appear, that some of the children have learned the art of begging so well, that they are able to vie with the most experienced mendicants. Ladies in particular are very much annoyed by children getting before them and asking for money; nor will they take the answer given them, but put their hats up to the ladies' faces, saying, "Please, ma'am, remember the grotto;" and when told by the parties that they have no money to give, they will still continue to follow, and be as importunate as any common beggar. However innocent and trifling this may appear to some, I am inclined to believe that such practices tend to evil, for they teach children to be mean, and may cause some of them to choose begging rather than work. I think that the best way to stop this species of begging is, never to give them any thing. A fact which came under my own observation will shew that the practice may be productive of mischief. A foreign gentleman walking up Old Street Road, was surrounded by three or four boys, saying, "Please, sir, remember the grotto."—"Go away," was the reply, "I will give you none." To this followed, "Do, pray sir, remember the grotto." "No, I tell you, I will give you nothing." "Do, sir, only once a-year." At length, I believe, he put something into one of their hats, and thus got rid of them; but he had scarcely gone 200 yards, before he came to another grotto, and out sallied three more boys, with the same importunate request: he replied, "I will give you nothing; plague have you and your grotto." The boys however persevered, till the gentleman, having lost all patience, gave one of them a gentle tap to get out of the way, but the boy being on the side of the foot-path fell into the mud, which had been scraped off the road, and in this pickle followed the gentleman, bellowing out, "That man knocked me down in the mud, and I had done nothing to him." In consequence, a number of persons soon collected, who insulted the gentleman very much, and he would certainly have been roughly handled, had he not given the boy something as a recompence. He then called a coach, declaring he could not walk the streets of London in safety.

Those who know what mischief has arisen from very trifling causes, will, of course, perceive the necessity of checking this growing evil; for this man went away with very unfavourable impressions concerning our country, and would, no doubt, prejudice many against us, and make them suppose we are worse than we are.

Nearly allied to this is, "Pray remember poor Guy Faux;" which not only teaches children the art of begging, but is frequently the means of their becoming dishonest, for I have known children break down fences, and water-spouts, and, in short, any thing that they could lay their hands upon, in order to make a bonfire, to the great danger of the inhabitants near it, without producing one good effect. Yet how easily might this practice be put down. The ill effects of it are so self-evident, that there can be no need for further enlargement.

I also disapprove of children going about begging at Christmas; this practice is calculated to instil into the children's minds a principle of meanness not becoming the English character, and the money they get, seldom, if ever, does them any good. If persons choose to give children any thing at this time of the year, there can be no objection to it, but I dislike children going about to ask for money like common beggars; it cannot be proper, and should be generally discountenanced. All these things, to some men, may appear trifling, but to me and others they are of consequence; for if we mean to improve the general character of the labouring population, there is nothing like beginning in time; and we should, amongst other things, get rid of all mean and improper customs.

Before concluding this chapter I would hint to travellers not to give children money for running after a coach. I have seen children of both sexes run until their breath failed, and, completely exhausted, drop down on the grass; merely because some injudicious persons had thrown halfpence to them. I have also seen little boys turn over and over before the horses, for the purpose of getting money, to the danger of their own lives and of the passengers; and I recollect an instance of one boy being, in consequence, killed on the spot. In some counties children will, in spring and summer, run after a carriage with flowers upon a long stick, thrusting it in the coach or the faces of the travellers, begging halfpence, which habit had been taught them by the same injudicious means.

The most virtuous and pious of men, on looking back to their early lives, have almost invariably confessed that they owe the first seeds of what is excellent in them, to the blessing of God, on the instruction and example of their parents, and those around them in the years of their childhood.

Reflections like these ought to make us humble and thankful for the advantages we have enjoyed, and cause us to look with an eye of pity, charity, and commiseration on the vices and delinquencies of the poor, rather than to judge them with harsh and cruel severity. Had we been in their places, might not—would not—our character and conduct have been as theirs?—Still further, ought not such thoughts as these to touch our hearts with deep compassion for them, and excite us to strenuous endeavours to remedy these lamentable evils, by the most powerful and effective measures that can be found; and more especially to strive if possible to rescue the rising generation from the contamination of surrounding vice and misery.