BED KOOFS OF LONDON. 261 



perhaps, in the East, domes in Italy; but, coming 

 nearer, the highway somehow plunges into houses, 

 confounding you with fasades, and the real place is 

 hidden. Here from the railway you see at once the 

 vastness of London. Koof-tree behind roof-tree, ridge 

 behind ridge, is drawn along in succession, line behind 

 tine till they become as close together as the test-lines 

 used for microscopes. Under this surface of roofs 

 what a profundity of life there is ! Just as the great 

 horses in the waggons of London streets convey the 

 idea of strength, so the endlessness of the view 

 conveys the idea of a mass of life. Life converges 

 from every quarter. The iron way has many ruts : 

 the rails are its ruts ; and by each of these a cease- 

 less stream of men and women pours over the tiled 

 roofs into London. They come from the populous 

 suburbs, from far-away towns and quiet villages, and 

 from over sea. 



Glance down as you pass into the excavations, the 

 streets, beneath the red surface : you catch a glimpse 

 of men and women hastening to and fro, of vehicles, 

 of horses struggling with mighty loads, of .groups at 

 the corners, and fragments, as it were, of crowds. 

 Busy life everywhere : no stillness, no quiet, no 

 repose. Life crowded and crushed together ; life 

 that has hardly room to live. If the train slackens, 

 look in at the open windows of the houses level with 

 the line they are always open for air, smoke-laden 

 as it is and see women and children with scarce 

 room to move, the bed and the dining-table in the 

 same apartment. For they dine and sleep and work 

 and play all at the same time. A man works at 



