The National tribune., 1899-01-12
IN LONDON STREETS.
Kaleidoscope Sights of the
British Metropolis.

To 90 out in London on a week day is like
rushing into a roaring, seething maelstrom OF
activity, in which one is swept along by the
irresistible tide One is whirled hither and
thither. and submerged in the waves of the
sea of humanity. Despite the proverbial
odiousness of comparisons, we find ourselves
continually making them-some bring us
great delight In America we have no ruins,
no multitude of cathedrals, and no Rem-
brandts Inwardly we congratulate ourselves
on onr free American institutions and bath
tubs and that we have no kings to SIT down
on US. We may regret that there are no
cathedralS toned into the tenderest colorS OF
pearl and gray by the tempests OF centuries,
and 10 galleries of fantastic pictures, where
all sorts of geniuses have turned their fancy
loose like wild horses, and where Titan Is
outdone in sp!endor, and Michael Angelo In
grandiose STYLE, and Rembrandt in Rembrandt
esoue gloom But America has its charms
we say. and it's bit homesick we always are
on SUNDAY home day; so we number
to ourselves many of the charms that an
Englishman would deny as such if he over
heard our thinking. Even Americas faults,
or rather lackings, grow lOvable on lonely
Sunday far away from the mother country.
On Sunday London is comparatively silent
The business houses have gray shutters over
the windows, and everywhere there Is sug-
gestion of fasting The restaurants are
closed, and il is next to impossible to get a
dinner outside of the hotels. When the city
shakes off the thradom of commerce and
business activity, it puts on its most beauti
full garments; peals its sweet-voiced church
bells, and utters its prayers and sentiments OF
religion. For one whole day il seems TO be
at peace The wheels of the omnlbusSeS
rattle over the streets. and the sound dies
away in the distance to rise again and mlngle
with & the iingling and the tiDkling of the
bells" the ministering servants OF religion
pealing echoing and summ0ning the faithful
and pIayeriul to their deyotlonS. From
north and south, form east and west there is
the cllng-clang of deep, resonant, musical
bells, and the people gather in the churches.
One sees so many people out in wheeled
chairs-great, comfortable, hooled affairs,
like Victoria carriage The invalid has
his outing In the sunshine most comfortably,
and tn. Sc days are bright and cool. There
are women, and men, too, IN these chairs,
with brains still active, and eager, intelligent
faces, although hope is dead within Their
bodies. Their hands are useless, made so by
the irony OF Fate. and their legs are motion
less from paralysis To those sufferers earth
must only serve as dark corridor to heaven;
they struggle through life against pititul
odds. We give them the unexpressed sym
paihy that probably goes to make the world
better, but seems so little of what we would
do if we could. 1t is hard to live imprisoned
between long rows Of brick walls, breathing
the dust OF FORCES, factories, machine-shopS, |
and hundreds OF manufactures OF yillainous
odors; to know n0tling OF the sha iowy |
paths beneath the green foliage and swaying |
branches of primeval trees, or the golden |
harvest ripe Tor the sickle. the hillside with |
its trailing vines, and the plain with its vel i
vet grass
There are hoodlums and tramps sitting On |
the curbstones and lurking around the street |
corners. They have leader, who declares |
that his audience is oppressed by the rich. |