THE BOULEVARDS. 117 



-water-squirting — nothing whatsoever of that type — should 

 be tolerated until the pure free air be enabled to search its 

 way into the heart of the town, through open verdure- 

 bordered roads ; which indeed would induce it to ignore 

 the boundary line that now so widely marks the difference 

 between town and country. 



To hope to attack the mass of disease and dirt that exists, 

 without first giving men an opportunity of enjoying pure 

 air and light, is in vain. These are the cheapest as well as 

 the greatest of blessings ; they are naturally the property 

 of all; but civilized man completely annuls them by his 

 muddling and stupid arrangement of our cities. To make 

 them once more the property of all should be the aim of 

 everybody who wishes well to his country. It should be 

 one of the first and most important " questions for a re- 

 formed parliament." For what is the use of all our present 

 efforts towards ameliorating the condition of the masses in 

 our cities, if health and all its consequences be impossible in 

 them ? Of none indeed, except it be in perpetuating much 

 of the misery and squalidness that occur amongst us by 

 ministering to them. 



The conditions complained of do not simply occur in 

 central parts of London where land is very dear : far with- 

 out the radius of the parks, the arrangements of streets are 

 frequently quite as bad as in the poor central districts, and 

 capital preparations are being made to secure a dozen years 

 hence a suburban cordon of districts like St. Giles's. To 

 experience the truth of this the reader has merely to walk 

 from Kensington Gardens to Kew — not the most unpleasant 

 stroll that could be selected in suburban London. In the 

 course of his journey he will find in the least populated parts 

 pleasant open roads, in some cases wider than a boulevard, 

 and with useless spaces railed off, and spreads of gravel, wide 

 as a princely avenue, before some low and isolated public- 

 house ; but the moment he arrives at a densely populated 

 part, the dead rabbits, sheep, &c., thrust out from the shops 

 into the few feet of crowded footway, oblige him to dodge so 

 often among the dung-carts and omnibuses of the narrow, 

 crowded street that, if he has ever seen even an approach 



