XXXVII.-A NIGHT IN WESTMINSTER.

WHEN mention is made of Westminster, the mind, as a natural consequence, reverts to her magnificent Minster, her Courts of Law, and Houses of Parliament. Coronations, royal marriages and burials, bishops, ecclesiastics, barons; tapers, spurs, doves and rods, state trials, eloquence, intellect, cultivation, and refinement, mingle and march across that broad panorama which imagination and memory so readily depict.

This rival city of London, (so called as late as 1776,) now no longer the "terrible place, overrun with thorns," of elder historians, has however its social as well as its public history, its secret tears and sorrows as well as its more prominent smiles and rejoicings. Lazarus still lies at the gate of Dives, and the body of the uncomplaining sufferer is yet covered with sores. The pen of many a ready writer has described the pageant of the purple and the fine linen,-how few have had the heart to imitate the compassionate dogs, and comfort the outcast men and women, who lie fainting and weary at our very feet.

The history of the poor in Westminster, needs only to be known to be admired, and to excite the astonishment of Christendom,tales of trials, of temptation resisted, of poverty borne not only without complaining but positively with cheerfulness, of sickness, of desertion, of destitution, could be told which might challenge the universe for parallel examples. Down in the dark alleys and dismal slums of Westminster, dwell men and women whose unceasing industry scarcely secures for them the bare necessaries of life; reared in ignorance, not only of their duty towards God, but also of their duty to their fellow-men; living in the closest vicinity of vice, and exposed to every description of temptation, the marvel to our mind is, not that missionaries and scripture readers have effected so little for the people, but that the people should so largely have availed themselves of these opportunities of self-improvement.

One method in particular which has proved very efficacious in raising the women of Westminster, has been a meeting held once or twice a week in various localities, for the purpose of instructing them in habits of frugality and cleanliness. These societies, started generally by a few pious ladies, assisted occasionally by the clergy, though more frequently by their lay agents, are in most cases attached to some church or chapel in the vicinity; they are conducted on distinct principles, governed by different rules, and held on various nights of the week. Some-that, for instance, held in Queen's Square Chapel, and conducted by an eminent dissenting body-include a sick fund, a burial club, and a clothing collection. The instruction there given in needlework is subservient to the clubs and

funds; while others, again, such as that excellent one conducted at Symons Buildings, of which we intend to speak more particularly by and bye, place religious knowledge and needlework first, and make money matters a secondary consideration.

The meeting at Queen's Square Chapel is decidedly the most popular in Westminster; it was originated and conducted for some time solely by a poor man of the name of Allen, a scripture reader, and was held in a dilapidated barn-like room, which stood a few hundred yards from the Abbey, on a miserable piece of swampy ground in Victoria Street. At first a few poor women met here every Monday night, for the purpose of hearing the scriptures read and explained, work was gradually introduced, ladies invited to superintend, clubs proposed, and so rapidly has the thing grown, so thoroughly has it prospered, that the names on the books now amount to between three and four hundred, and two nights are devoted to this work instead of one, while the chapel at Queen's Square, with its good ventilation, bright gas, and ample space, forms a decided improvement upon the limited room, the tenpenny dips, and the impure atmosphere of the old rotting barn where the first meetings were held. The meeting on Monday night is frequented by the aged and the clean, the aristocracy of the district; and on Tuesday, by those who have only just joined, and who are therefore not yet under control. "Come on Monday," was an invitation we received from a very poor old widow, (who to use her own words has “ given her Queen and her country three fine lads,") "come on Monday, love, we're a deal cleaner that night." So we went on Monday, and there they were! women old and women young; maids, matrons, widows; odious women who were married; and alas, too often, mothers who were not married at all; poor patient penitents sufferering all alone! Gathered in groups, they all sat wagging their needles and tongues, cutting their garments and jokes at the same time, while here and there a more sedate party were listening to some lady who was quietly reading an interesting narrative, which most probably was Ministering Children," or "Hands and Homes.”

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This

But we must leave Mr. Allen and his friends, with the earnest wish that they may go on and prosper, and after stating that similar meetings are held by the congregations connected with the Rev. Samuel Martin, the Rev. Mr. Malone, and probably in other districts of Westminster, we must proceed to describe a Model Mother's Meeting, held also every Monday night in another part of Westminster. was commenced on the 6th of October, 1856, by a committee of nine ladies, at the Pear Street and Duck Lane Ragged School (a name, by the way, which almost rivals the celebrated house of "Draw-thepudding-out-of-the-fire" of another county.) Of these nine ladies, three more particularly deserve to be noticed for their untiring zeal and steady perseverance in endeavoring to influence these mothers, upon whom must depend, in a large measure, the future characters and destinies of their numerous children. Wintry wind and rainy

weather, autumn fogs and summer suns, have seen this pious mother and daughter, (the latter widely and most justly known for her many and various accomplishments,) and their honored and highminded friend, wending their way through dreary lanes and noisome passages, seeking out the members of their society, and proceeding with an unfailing regularity to their post every Monday night. Those only who were present on the first gathering, can have the remotest idea of the change effected by this weekly meeting. The eight-and-twenty outcasts who attended on the first nights, were of the very poorest class of society; many being widows with large families, earning a precarious living in the streets by vending oranges, walnuts, stove ornaments, fish, and tin pans, others gaining a miserable pittance by slop work.

These women, for the most part, presented themselves without any bonnets, often without caps; with their rusty, weather-beaten hair uncombed, and in an indescribably filthy condition, hanging down their backs, or caught up over an old half-toothless comb; their breasts were bare, all ideas of decency having long ceased to exist, and their soiled and well-worn gowns were invariably in rags. Their homes corresponded with their persons, their language and ideas with both. Very few attended any house of God for worship on the Sabbath, and any instruction which their children received at the Ragged School, was necessarily counterbalanced and disturbed by the example they beheld at home.

There were not wanting instances of women there, who actually were ignorant of the use of a needle and thread—one of these poor helpless creatures, a great bony woman, a costermonger by profession, was, with much difficulty, persuaded to join the party. At length she was induced to promise her presence if the "la-adies wo-ould co-ome and fe-etch he-er fo-or shee was soo ner-ervous." the ladies went and fetched her for three successive Mondays, and now she comes willingly enough alone; indeed, last Monday she expressed her determination to give one of the teachers "a bro-och li-ike Mrs. Thing-e-my's," Mrs. Thing-e-my being the schoolmaster's wife.

So

There are names on the books now to the number of sixty, the average attendance being forty-five, but there is no doubt that the attendance will rapidly increase, now they have taken possession of their new school, (formerly the "One Tun" public house, 3, Perkins Rents, which, for the last two-hundred years, has been one of the favorite resorts of thieves,) which happy event took place on the 25th of October, when the Lord Mayor presided.

We take at random a few names from the book, and give an outline of their histories.

Mrs. Burgess, a widow with two children, a boy of ten and a girl of six, makes wooden skewers for the butchers, at 61d. a thousand. On one occasion was found completing an order for five thousand for which, after carrying them to Paddington, she was to receive 2s. 8d.

Mrs. How, a widow with two children, sells fish and fruit.

Mrs. Tapp, husband a collier, eight children.

Mrs. Bandy, sells tapes, etc., in the streets, husband a sweep, three children.

Mrs. Seymour, coal shed, five children.

Mrs. Dobson, slop work at 24d. a shirt, husband a pensioner, four children, two sons now in India, 50th regiment.

Mrs. Butcher, husband blind, she sells fish, flowers, makes baskets and mats, four children.

Mrs. May, husband a laborer, three children.

Mrs. Evans, an ironer, husband a tailor, eleven children, two received prizes from Lord Shaftesbury.

Mrs. Lockwood, charwoman, husband a potman, often out of work, five children.

Mrs. P

coal shed, inclined to drunkenness, three children. Mrs. Lloyd, sells tins, sometimes sings in the streets, a widow with two sons. This poor woman has taken into her room two poor orphan children, who but for her would have gone into the workhouse.

Mrs. B, a widow, slop worker, four children, two of whom have been to prison.

Mrs. Charman, a charwoman, five children, one had a prize.
Mrs. Mary Brown, a costermonger, three children.

Mrs. William Brown, widow, two children, both in service, both had prizes from the Ragged School Union.

Mrs. Leo, a widow, nurses or chars, three children.
Mrs. Stocks, five children, "goes into the streets."
Mrs. H-

children.

Mrs. H

husband a costermonger and a sad drunkard, six

three children, gets her living in the streets, somehow. Mrs. B- -, husband supposed to be a thief, four children. Mrs. Raxberry, widow, sings in the streets, five children. Mrs. Bell, husband lost his right arm, five children, sings in the streets.

Such is a brief outline of the poor women this meeting is endeavoring to elevate, and any one who had been with us, as we wandered through the rain and mud of last Monday, and had seen these women waiting at the top of the alley for their benefactors, and heard their welcome, would have perceived how grateful they are for the interest taken in them. The room was filled long before it was time to commence, and we could not but notice, that all our visitors had bonnets on their heads and caps under them, one woman only forming an exception, their gowns were all mended, their persons carefully covered, most of them wore tidy aprons, and their hands and faces had evidently been washed for the occasion.

As the rules of this society may be useful for those who are desirous of starting a similar meeting, we will copy them for the benefit of our readers:

1. The meeting to consist only of the mothers of those children who attend the Pear Street Day and Sabbath Schools, unless otherwise decided by the Committee of Management.

2. The mothers to assemble at seven o'clock on Monday evenings. 3. At ten minutes past seven, a hymn is to be sung, a portion of the Bible read and explained, and a prayer offered.

4. The work will then be given out. ing narrative or tract will be read aloud.

During work, an interest

5. In the course of the evening, the money will be received in payment of the work, in such sums as are most convenient to the mothers.

6. When a garment is finished and paid for, it may be taken home.

7. No garment to be taken away until completed and paid for. 8. At half-past eight an entry will be made of the names of those mothers who are present at the meeting.

9. The meeting to terminate about nine o'clock with hymn and prayer.

Each member has a large bag, with her name in full written on, in large distinct characters; thimbles, needles, pins, cotton, and tape, are given. Flannel is retailed to them at 8d. per yard, calico at 3d., prints for aprons at 3d.; the best articles being purchased, and the difference made up by subscriptions among the friends of the Committee. These subscriptions (chiefly collected in sums of 2s. 6d., 5s., and 10s.) amounted last year to £19 7s., and the mothers' deposits to £14 19s. 10d.

During the last fifteen months these mothers have bought and made up 212 yards of flannel, 420 yards of calico, and 270 yards of print; habits of industry have been greatly fostered and encouraged, and the best methods of making up garments and economising materials taught. Several children have been born since these meetings first commenced, and so anxious are the mothers to attend, that the babies form regular attendants, the mothers working while the children sleep in their laps. The improved condition of the homes, husbands, and children, and the almost entire absence of rags, show how much has been already effected.

Some of these poor women are communicants, nearly all now attend some church or chapel; and even the beggars who get their bread in the streets somehow-these blind, crippled, and withered outcasts, never go out for alms on the Sunday, "if they've a bit of bread for the children, in the house."

"You are late at school," said the master to one of these lads the other day, looking to the clock as it pointed to twelve. "Yes, master," was the reply, "I've been singing for my breakfast, and I comed as soon as I could;" and he held up the still uneaten roll as in attestation of his remark, and in proof of his vocal abilities. Many of these women frequent the baths and wash-houses, and