"If suddenly," says Mr. Ruskin, "in the midst of the enjoyments of the palate and lightnesses of heart of a London dinner-party, the walls of the chamber were parted, and through their gap the nearest human beings who were famishing and in misery were borne into the midst of the company--feasting and fancy-free--if, pale with sickness, horrible in destitution, broken by despair, body by body, they were laid upon the soft carpet, one beside the chair of every guest, would only the crumbs of the dainties be cast to them--would only a passing glance, a passing thought be vouchsafed to them? Yet the actual facts, the real relations of each Dives and Lazarus, are not altered by the intervention of the house wall between the table and the sick-bed--by the few feet of ground (how few!) which are indeed all that separate the merriment from the misery." It is an effective contrast. But, perhaps the most vivid and pathetic sketch of the Submerged of the Great City is that of John Davidson's weird and haunting ballad: "The Loafer": "I hang about the streets all day, At night I hang about; I sleep a little when I may, But rise betimes the morning's scout; For through the year I always hear Afar, aloft, a ghostly shout. "My clothes are worn to threads and loops; My skin shows here and there; About my face like seaweed droops My tangled beard, my tangled hair; From cavernous and shaggy brows My stony eyes untroubled stare. "I move from eastern wretchedness Through Fleet Street and the Strand; And as the pleasant people press I touch them softly with my hand, Perhaps to know that still I go Alive about a living land. "I know no handicraft, no art, But I have conquered fate; For I have chosen the better part, And neither hope, nor fear, nor hate. With placid breath on pain and death, My certain alms, alone I wait." [Illustration: _Speshul!_] CHAPTER IX WESTMINSTER "The devout King destined to God that place, both for that it was near unto the famous and wealthy City of London, and also had a pleasant situation amongst fruitful fields lying round about it, with the principal river running hard by, bringing in from all parts of the world great variety of wares and merchandise of all sorts to the city adjoining; but chiefly for the love of the Chief Apostle, whom he reverenced with a special and singular affection."--_Contemporary Life of Edward the Confessor in Harleian M.S._ "The world-famed Abbey by the westering Thames."--_Matthew Arnold._