"Any house, room, garden, or other place, kept for public dancing, music, or other public entertainment of the like kind, in London and Westminster, or within 20 miles thereof, without a licence had for that purpose, shall be deemed a disorderly house or place; and that it shall be lawful for any person, authorised by warrant from a Justice, to enter such house, and seize every person found therein; and that every person keeping such house, &c. without such licence shall forfeit 100_l._ and be otherwise punishable as the Law directs in case of disorderly houses." Since Sir John Fielding's time, the publick have frequently had occasion to applaud the vigilance of the Police in their attempts to prevent illegal assemblies, whether under the title of concerts or dances; and instances might be related when dancing-masters and groupes of their pretended scholars have visited the watch-house; but the most obstinate places of vicious amusement were the Dog and Duck, and the Apollo-gardens, in St. George's-fields; the latter of which is not only now suppressed, but the site has become a mere level, and the Dog and Duck served for several years as a public kitchen for charitable purposes, after the keeper had been expelled. At the latter place there was a long room furnished with tables and benches, and at the upper-end an organ. The company who assembled in the evening, consisted of some of the finest women of the town of the middle rank, their bullies, and such young men as could, without reflection, condescend to supply the thirsty palates of the women with inflaming liquids: the conversation was--Reader, imagine what! The Apollo-gardens might _accidentally_ receive decent visitors, but I presume their stay to have been short. These places flourished much too long; infinite injury was done by them. But we have now the consolation to reflect, that Vice is compelled to hide her fascinating visage; and though it is impossible to dive into all her haunts, we do not find them blazoned with large characters in the public ways, where her votaries however contrive intimations which are passed unobserved by the virtuous, but understood by the vicious; and these Bagnio's, Seraglio's, or whatever else the reader pleases to term them, are in many instances large and handsome houses. The lady who trades upon her own account can never be at a loss for a sign to indicate her profession, as long as her own sweet person is permitted to appear at a window, either in _elegant disorder_, or habited fit for a drawing-room. How shall I number these signs, or the streets where they most abound? The Reader would disbelieve the enumeration.