The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1888-01-21 00:00:00

LONDON CORRESPONDENCE.

We deem it right to state we do not at all times identify
ourselves with our Correspondent's opinions.

It is not much wonder that we Londoners
never grow tired of grumbling against fogs as
long as we continue to be visited with such fear-
some specimens as those which have lately
descended upon us like a pall. The most recent
specimens of what Mr. Guppy, in Dickens's tale
of "Bleak House " called a London particular,"
have been so peculiarly distressing and disorgan-
ising in their effects, that the most patient
dweller within the metropolitan area has been
tempted to say strong things. For one thing,
the train service became completely disorganised,
and all who know the part played by the rail-
way in the arrangements of our daily life are
aware of what a serious matter this is to tens of
thousands. There was only one pleasing side to
the picture, and that was that, although
there were a few fatalities caused by
people walking off the platforms in the
utter darkness and then being run over, there
was no railway disaster, despite the all-prevail-
ing confusion. The perfection of our signalling
arrangements could scarcely have been more
completely shown; and although the continual
blowing of whistles and explosion of fog-signals
became after a period highly troubling to the
nerves, all could the better be borne with
because of the assurance that the noise was a
preventive of disaster. But the dream of ever
abolishing the fog which causes all the trouble
appears to - day to be farther from realisation
than ever.

A curious social phenomenon is illustracted by
the fact that the time for commencing some of
the most popular series of London concerts has
been changed from eight to half-past eight. The
reason for this is that the fashionable dinner-
hour is growing later and later, and the principal
patrons of such amusements do, therefore, per-
ceivo the divided duty of sacrificing either their
dinner or the concert, with the result that a
compromise has been arranged which, it may be
hoped, will prove satisfactory. Within the past
generation the dinner-hour has become later in a
rapidly - advancing degree, while, if we look
farther back, it will seem strange to consider how
early it once was. Even as lately, comparatively
speaking, as a hundred years ago, it was thought
tiltra-fashionable to dine at three in the after-
hoon, while less than half that period since six
In the evening was considered to be a reasonable
hour. Nowadays eight or half-past is being
adopted in fashionable circles, while in the
highest circle of all, that of Royalty, the hour is
nine. The natural consequence is that luncheon,
once regarded as only a snack," has now become
a solid meal, and that five o'clock tea, not so very
long since a very ethereal proceeding, is now a
substantial consideration. It may be that in the
end we shall revert to the system of meals called
by our grandfathers dinner, tea, and supper,
though called by ourselves luncheon, tea, and
dinner.

The retirement of Mr. Denning from his office
M Chief Inspector of the Palace of Westminster
is an event of much interest to all frequenters of
the lobby of the House of Commons. The oldest
officer but three in the Metropolitan Force, Mr.
Denning has been in the police nearly forty-two
years, and has just completed twenty-one years'
service in the Houses of Parliament. His face
and form were known to everyone who visited
our legislative halls, and "Inspector Denning,"
as ho so long was called, was a name
familiar in our mouths as household
Words. When, a couple of years siace, he
Was raised to the Chief Inspectorship of the
Palace of Westminster—a post which was created
to reward his long service, and which, it is under-
stood, will pass away with him—it was felt that
the promotion was well-deserved by one who
had worked so long and faithfully. For the post
is one of which the responsibilities are far from
light. During Mr. Denning's career, and
probably in recent years, provision has had
to be made against dangers of no common
kind. The fate threatened the Houses of
Parliament by Guy Fawkes not far from
three centuries ago, has been attempted to be
paralleled in our own times; and it has required
all the skill and often all the daring of our police
to cope with the peril. In these matters, as
affecting the Palace of Westminster, Mr.
Denning has borne a leading part; and his
retirement, on the ground of ill-health, will he
accompanied by the good wishes of many who
may never have seen his face, but to whom his
name and public services are familiar.
From the time that the Thames Embankment
was constructed even until now, there have been
recurring suggestions that shops of some kind
should be built upon it. The argument was
put forward that no thoroughfare, however
handsome, could be rendered permanently
attractive if the public had not the
opportunity of spending a single penny along
its whole length; and it was urged that it must
always be especially dull at night as long as no
shop-windows were alight to enliven it. Many
a year has passed since these contentions were
first put forward, but they had borne no fruit,
and at length even those who most admired the
grandest piece of engineering skill London has
to show, had grown tired of perpetually urging
to no effect that it should be made the best
use of. And now, when no one in particular
was bringing the matter forward, a move is
about to be made in the direction indicated,
for the plans have been prepared for some shops,
to be called "The Facade," under the railway
bridge of the South - Eastern Company at
Charing-cross. The attempt is not a very
ambitious one, but it is a beginning which may
have important results; and now that the thin
end of the wedge is about to be inserted, it may
be depended that it will be so driven home as to
make the Embankment what it deserves to
be—one of the brightest and most popular as
well as the finest of our thoroughfares.
The effort which is now being made to pro-
vide a national pension fund for such of
the twenty - five thousand nurses in this
country as may be prostrated by disease or
rendered incapable of further service by old age,
is one which merits hearty support from all
classes. A good start has been made by the
action of four great firms in the City of London,
which contributed no less a total than £20,000
to inaugurate the movement; and it may be con-
sidered, therefore, to have commenced under
most auspicious circumstances. The main object
of the fund will be to grant nurses and other
hospital officials annuities, as well as allowances,
during sickness, so as to secure an adequate pro-
vision to those whose lives are devoted to the care
of the sick, when their period of work is finished,
or when they themselves are attacked by illness.
All who know anything of the hard and self-sacri-
ficing toil of those employed in our hospitals will
agree that the movement deserves every success.
The physical and mental strain is so great that
even the strongest are liable to break down under
it afer a few years' toil; and it is only right that
those who do so much to alleviate the sufferings
of their fellows should themselves live in hope of
being relieved when by reason of these exertions
they need a helping hand.
Lovers of pictures have just now a good
opportunity of gratifying themselves at two of
the great London galleries, the Academy and
the Grosvenor. The winter exhibition at each
18 most interesting, though perhaps the more
generally popular will be found to be that at the
latter, where pictures illustrating "a century of
British art," from 1737 to 1837, are displayed to
view. But admirers of the arts will go to
both with the certainty of finding much
material for study and admiration. The
British school is represented not only at the
Grosvenor, where, of course, it is specially in
evidence, but has some noteworthy specimens at
the Academy, one of them having been insured
previous to exhibition for the great sum of forty
thousand pounds. A winter exhibition, how-
ever, has its drawbacks in the shape of darkness
and fog, which frequently obscure the view.
Gas is not merely a danger but a destructive
agent in a picture gallery; and, unless the electric
light has been fitted up, the darkness and the fog
have it all their own way. But then the winter
exhibitions have their compensations also, for
they are less crowded than their summer brethren,
at which it is often almost impossible to move.
So, taking one consideration with another,
picture lovers are not likely to miss two such re-
presentative " shows " as those which are now
presented for their attention.

The football world seems almost to flourish by
reason of its disputes, for scarcely a winter passes
in which one of these is not brought prominently
forward. Last year it was one from the North oi
England, in which the great question had to be
decided whether a club was compelled to have its
ground swept clear of snow before a match com-
menced; and this year the even more momentous
point was raised of whether a club is forced to make
such arrangements as will keep its ground free
from the incursions of an unusual number of
spectators. Perhaps, by the time that football
has been so long established among us as cricket
—that is, as a quasi-scientific game—all these
points will have been settled so completely that
there will be no possibility of dispute concerning
*tom ; and, perhaps, the very exciternont which

they now cause may be considered as a testimony
to the popularity of the pastime. But it is
undoubtedly unfortunate that a more unfriendly
feeling appears to be developed by the playing of
football than is aroused by the pursuit of cricket.
The rushes and the ralies and the physical
encounters which characterise the former may
explain this difference, though hardly excusing it;
and lovers of football may be certain that their
favourite game will not attract universal admira-
tion as long as it is marked by so much con-
tentiousness. A. F. R.