to a well, and fill himself and go away again.
There are very few places for friendly gatherings
and social converse left. And those few
that remain are made as uncomfortable as
possible. All games, however innocent, are
forbidden, not by the law, but by the publican,
because they interfere with drinking. The
harmless bagatelle-table has long been banished.
Cards and even dominoes are interdicted on any
pretence whatever. And here our wise and
paternal legislature arms the publican with a
pretence of authority by inserting in his license
a clause forbidding him to suffer any unlawful
games, or any gaming whatsoever, in his house,
which the publican liberally interprets to mean
that he is not to suffer any amusements,
however innocent, which will divert the minds of his
customers, and limit the consumption of drink.
Fully sensible of the evils of gambling, I
must, nevertheless, question the wisdom of the
law, which is so careful to prevent a man losing
small sums at a game of chance, while it takes
pains to compel him to spend his money in
drink. Gambling, bad as it is, is responsible
for very few crimes in comparison with drink.

The effect of the public-house system as it
exists at present in all large towns, is to
promote excessive drinking, for drinking sake, and
to throw all the drinking, whether in excess or
moderation, into the hands—or rather down the
throats of one class and one sex. The upper
classes are independent of the public-house.
They can afford to have all they require at
home; and if they hunger or thirst when they
are out of doors, they can afford to go to
first-class hotels. The rest of the population (for
nearly all public purposes one class) is, in a
great measure, dependent upon the public-house
for out-door refreshment. But the public-house,
being in all its departments a rough-and-ready
stand-up constituted drink-shop, can be
visited only by men. Few women not of a low
class ever enter a London public-house; or, if
they do, they sneak in with a sense of shame,
conscious that it is a very unfit place for a
decent women to be seen in. Now, I hold that
what is good for the goose is good for the
gander; or rather in this case, I should say,
what is good for the gander is good for the
goose. Women require refreshment as well as
men, and I believe it will not be denied that
they are fond of a little social converse over a
cup of tea, with, occasionally, a little drop of
something in it. But, out of doors, they are
wholly deprived of this; and in these days of
railways and cheap excursions, women are
almost as much out of doors as men. The
so-called house of public entertainment affords no
fitting accommodation for respectable women; the
rooms, where there are any, are not adapted for
women, nor is the company. Men are so accustomed
to congregate among themselves in drinking
bars,and to use rough and indelicate language,
that they cannot readily emancipate themselves
from the genius loci even when a decent woman
appears among them. They are apt to regard
any woman who shows herself in such a place
as no better than she should be. Thus the
public-house system shuts out the great mass
of women of the middle and lower classes from
those necessaries, conveniences, and pleasures
which ladies of the upper class are enabled to
enjoy, and do enjoy daily, at hotels. I cannot
admit the pastrycook's to be any mitigation of
this very hard case. Why cannot the people
go to the pastrycook's for refreshment? Marie
Antoinette said something of this kind when she
was told that the people were starving for want
of bread. " Why don't they eat sponge cakes,"
she exclaimed. The truth is, that the
pastry-cook's is even less adapted to meet the wants
of refreshment seekers than the public-house.
Its eatables are chiefly puffs, and tarts, and
sweetmeats; its drinkables, lemonade, ginger-
beer, and cherry-brandy—matters calculated
neither to appease the appetite nor to agree
with the stomach. The prices are high, and
the accommodation is limited. Men despise
the pastrycook's. The new licensing act
permits pastrycooks to sell wine; and in their
windows, among the buns, and tarts, and sugar-
sticks, may now be seen little bottles of hock,
and claret, and Moselle. This is a step in
the right direction; but it is really of no
advantage to any one while the pastrycook's
shop is shunned by the men folks. Women,
don't like to sit and drink wine by themselves;
they lack the courage to order it, though they
are longing for a glass all the while.

How much better they manage these matters
in France, where, as regards drink, there are no
vested interests, no strictly guarded monopolies,
and where the trade is, to a great extent, free
and untrammelled! We boast in England of
free trade; but, in this particular respect, we
are far behind France. In that country, a
public-house is a place combining elegance with
comfort and convenience; its rooms are spacious,
and handsomely appointed for the use of both
sexes; refreshments of all kinds are served; and
games and amusements are not only tolerated,
but encouraged.

In a Parisian cafe you will find as many
women as men—respectable women, too, who
come with their husbands, and bring their
children with them. There they sit in a family
group round a marble table, sipping their coffee,
or their wine, thinking it no shame to be seen
by any of their neighbours, because there is
nothing to be ashamed of. The cafe is not
simply a drinking-shop. There is no necessity
to drink anything stronger than coffee or eau
sucré ; and you may sit at your table as long as
you please, read the paper, play at dominoes, or
chat with your friends. All the amenities of
private life are strictly observed. The men are
gallant and polite; you never hear a word that
could offend the most sensitive, and you never
or very rarely indeed see any one tipsy.
There is nothing about the place to suggest the
drinking-shop, or to impress you with the
obligation to drink. You feel that you are at
liberty to take your ease and pleasure, and do
as you like. So accustomed is the landlord to