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    Sunday under Three Heads
    Sunday under Three Heads
    Sunday under Three Heads
    Ebook53 pages47 minutes

    Sunday under Three Heads

    By Charles Dickens

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    Sunday under Three Heads
    Author

    Charles Dickens

    Charles Dickens was born in 1812 near Portsmouth, where his father worked as a clerk. Living in London in 1824, Dickens was sent by his family to work in a blacking-warehouse, and his father was arrested and imprisoned for debt. Fortunes improved and Dickens returned to school, eventually becoming a parliamentary reporter. His first piece of fiction was published by a magazine in December 1832, and by 1836 he had begun his first novel, The Pickwick Papers. He focused his career on writing, completing fourteen highly successful novels, as well as penning journalism, shorter fiction and travel books. He died in 1870.

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      Sunday under Three Heads - Charles Dickens

      Sunday Under Three Heads, by Charles Dickens

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sunday Under Three Heads, by Charles Dickens

      (#27 in our series by Charles Dickens)

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      **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

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      Title: Sunday Under Three Heads

      Author: Charles Dickens

      Release Date: May, 1997 [EBook #922]

      [This file was first posted on May 29, 1997]

      [Most recently updated: May 20, 2003]

      Edition: 10

      Language: English

      Transcribed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk

      SUNDAY UNDER THREE HEADS

      DEDICATION

      To The Right Reverend

      THE BISHOP OF LONDON

      MY LORD,

      You were among the first, some years ago, to expatiate on the vicious addiction of the lower classes of society to Sunday excursions; and were thus instrumental in calling forth occasional demonstrations of those extreme opinions on the subject, which are very generally received with derision, if not with contempt.

      Your elevated station, my Lord, affords you countless opportunities of increasing the comforts and pleasures of the humbler classes of society—not by the expenditure of the smallest portion of your princely income, but by merely sanctioning with the influence of your example, their harmless pastimes, and innocent recreations.

      That your Lordship would ever have contemplated Sunday recreations with so much horror, if you had been at all acquainted with the wants and necessities of the people who indulged in them, I cannot imagine possible.  That a Prelate of your elevated rank has the faintest conception of the extent of those wants, and the nature of those necessities, I do not believe.

      For these reasons, I venture to address this little Pamphlet to your Lordship’s consideration.  I am quite conscious that the outlines I have drawn, afford but a very imperfect description of the feelings they are intended to illustrate; but I claim for them one merit—their truth and freedom from exaggeration.  I may have fallen short of the mark, but I have never overshot it: and while I have pointed out what appears to me, to be injustice on the part of others, I hope I have carefully abstained from committing it myself.

      I am,

      My Lord,

      Your Lordship’s most obedient,

      Humble Servant,

      TIMOTHY SPARKS.

      June, 1836.

      CHAPTER I—AS IT IS

      There are few things from which I derive greater pleasure, than walking through some of the principal streets of London on a fine Sunday, in summer, and watching the cheerful faces of the lively groups with which they are thronged.  There is something, to my eyes at least, exceedingly pleasing in the general desire evinced by the humbler classes of society, to appear neat and clean on this their only holiday.  There are many grave old persons, I know, who shake their heads with an air of profound wisdom, and tell you that poor people dress too well now-a-days; that when they were children, folks knew their stations in life better; that you may depend upon it, no good will come of this sort of thing in the end,—and so forth: but I fancy I can discern in the fine bonnet of the working-man’s wife, or the feather-bedizened hat of his child, no inconsiderable evidence of good feeling on the part of the man himself, and an affectionate desire to expend

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