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the　patient's　appearance：　　a　certain　slovenliness　and

deterioration；　which　is　not　poverty；　nor　dirt；　nor　intoxication；

nor　ill…health；　but　simply　Dry　Rot。　　To　this；　succeeds　a　smell　as

of　strong　waters；　in　the　morning；　to　that；　a　looseness　respecting

money；　to　that；　a　stronger　smell　as　of　strong　waters；　at　all　times；

to　that；　a　looseness　respecting　everything；　to　that；　a　trembling　of

the　limbs；　somnolency；　misery；　and　crumbling　to　pieces。　　As　it　is

in　wood；　so　it　is　in　men。　　Dry　Rot　advances　at　a　compound　usury

quite　incalculable。　　A　plank　is　found　infected　with　it；　and　the

whole　structure　is　devoted。　　Thus　it　had　been　with　the　unhappy

Horace　Kinch；　lately　buried　by　a　small　subscription。　　Those　who

knew　him　had　not　nigh　done　saying；　'So　well　off；　so　comfortably

established；　with　such　hope　before　him　…　and　yet；　it　is　feared；

with　a　slight　touch　of　Dry　Rot！'　when　lo！　the　man　was　all　Dry　Rot

and　dust。



From　the　dead　wall　associated　on　those　houseless　nights　with　this

too　common　story；　I　chose　next　to　wander　by　Bethlehem　Hospital；

partly；　because　it　lay　on　my　road　round　to　Westminster；　partly；

because　I　had　a　night　fancy　in　my　head　which　could　be　best　pursued

within　sight　of　its　walls　and　dome。　　And　the　fancy　was　this：　　Are

not　the　sane　and　the　insane　equal　at　night　as　the　sane　lie　a

dreaming？　　Are　not　all　of　us　outside　this　hospital；　who　dream；　more

or　less　in　the　condition　of　those　inside　it；　every　night　of　our

lives？　　Are　we　not　nightly　persuaded；　as　they　daily　are；　that　we

associate　preposterously　with　kings　and　queens；　emperors　and

empresses；　and　notabilities　of　all　sorts？　　Do　we　not　nightly　jumble

events　and　personages　and　times　and　places；　as　these　do　daily？　　Are

we　not　sometimes　troubled　by　our　own　sleeping　inconsistencies；　and

do　we　not　vexedly　try　to　account　for　them　or　excuse　them；　just　as

these　do　sometimes　in　respect　of　their　waking　delusions？　　Said　an

afflicted　man　to　me；　when　I　was　last　in　a　hospital　like　this；　'Sir；

I　can　frequently　fly。'　　I　was　half　ashamed　to　reflect　that　so　could

I　…　by　night。　　Said　a　woman　to　me　on　the　same　occasion；　'Queen

Victoria　frequently　comes　to　dine　with　me；　and　her　Majesty　and　I

dine　off　peaches　and　maccaroni　in　our　night…gowns；　and　his　Royal

Highness　the　Prince　Consort　does　us　the　honour　to　make　a　third　on

horseback　in　a　Field…Marshal's　uniform。'　　Could　I　refrain　from

reddening　with　consciousness　when　I　remembered　the　amazing　royal

parties　I　myself　had　given　（at　night）；　the　unaccountable　viands　I

had　put　on　table；　and　my　extraordinary　manner　of　conducting　myself

on　those　distinguished　occasions？　　I　wonder　that　the　great　master

who　knew　everything；　when　he　called　Sleep　the　death　of　each　day's

life；　did　not　call　Dreams　the　insanity　of　each　day's　sanity。



By　this　time　I　had　left　the　Hospital　behind　me；　and　was　again

setting　towards　the　river；　and　in　a　short　breathing　space　I　was　on

Westminster…bridge；　regaling　my　houseless　eyes　with　the　external

walls　of　the　British　Parliament　…　the　perfection　of　a　stupendous

institution；　I　know；　and　the　admiration　of　all　surrounding　nations

and　succeeding　ages；　I　do　not　doubt；　but　perhaps　a　little　the

better　now　and　then　for　being　pricked　up　to　its　work。　　Turning　off

into　Old　Palace…yard；　the　Courts　of　Law　kept　me　company　for　a

quarter　of　an　hour；　hinting　in　low　whispers　what　numbers　of　people

they　were　keeping　awake；　and　how　intensely　wretched　and　horrible

they　were　rendering　the　small　hours　to　unfortunate　suitors。

Westminster　Abbey　was　fine　gloomy　society　for　another　quarter　of　an

hour；　suggesting　a　wonderful　procession　of　its　dead　among　the　dark

arches　and　pillars；　each　century　more　amazed　by　the　century

following　it　than　by　all　the　centuries　going　before。　　And　indeed　in

those　houseless　night　walks　…　which　even　included　cemeteries　where

watchmen　went　round　among　the　graves　at　stated　times；　and　moved　the

tell…tale　handle　of　an　index　which　recorded　that　they　had　touched

it　at　such　an　hour　…　it　was　a　solemn　consideration　what　enormous

hosts　of　dead　belong　to　one　old　great　city；　and　how；　if　they　were

raised　while　the　living　slept；　there　would　not　be　the　space　of　a

pin's　point　in　all　the　streets　and　ways　for　the　living　to　come　out

into。　　Not　only　that；　but　the　vast　armies　of　dead　would　overflow

the　hills　and　valleys　beyond　the　city；　and　would　stretch　away　all

round　it；　God　knows　how　far。



When　a　church　clock　strikes；　on　houseless　ears　in　the　dead　of　the

night；　it　may　be　at　first　mistaken　for　company　and　hailed　as　such。

But；　as　the　spreading　circles　of　vibration；　which　you　may　perceive

at　such　a　time　with　great　clearness；　go　opening　out；　for　ever　and

ever　afterwards　widening　perhaps　（as　the　philosopher　has　suggested）

in　eternal　space；　the　mistake　is　rectified　and　the　sense　of

loneliness　is　profounder。　　Once　…　it　was　after　leaving　the　Abbey

and　turning　my　face　north　…　I　came　to　the　great　steps　of　St。

Martin's　church　as　the　clock　was　striking　Three。　　Suddenly；　a　thing

that　in　a　moment　more　I　should　have　trodden　upon　without　seeing；

rose　up　at　my　feet　with　a　cry　of　loneliness　and　houselessness；

struck　out　of　it　by　the　bell；　the　like　of　which　I　never　heard。　　We

then　stood　face　to　face　looking　at　one　another；　frightened　by　one

another。　　The　creature　was　like　a　beetle…browed　hair…lipped　youth

of　twenty；　and　it　had　a　loose　bundle　of　rags　on；　which　it　held

together　with　one　of　its　hands。　　It　shivered　from　head　to　foot；　and

its　teeth　chattered；　and　as　it　stared　at　me　…　persecutor；　devil；

ghost；　whatever　it　thought　me　…　it　made　with　its　whining　mouth　as

if　it　were　snapping　at　me；　like　a　worried　dog。　　Intending　to　give

this　ugly　object　money；　I　put　out　my　hand　to　stay　it　…　for　it

recoiled　as　it　whined　and　snapped　…　and　laid　my　hand　upon　its

shoulder。　　Instantly；　it　twisted　out　of　its　garment；　like　the　young

man　in　the　New　Testament；　and　left　me　standing　alone　with　its　rags

in　my　hands。



Covent…garden　Market；　when　it　was　market　morning；　was　wonderful

company。　　The　great　waggons　of　cabbages；　with　growers'　men　and　boys

lying　asleep　under　them；　and　with　sharp　dogs　from　market…garden

neighbourhoods　looking　after　the　whole；　were　as　good　as　a　party。

But　one　of　the　worst　night　sights　I　know　in　London；　is　to　be　found

in　the　children　who　prowl　about　this　place；　who　sleep　in　the

baskets；　fight　for　the　offal；　dart　at　any　object　they　think　they

can　lay　their　their　thieving　hands　on；　dive　under　the　carts　and

barrows；　dodge　the　constables；　and　are　perpetually　making　a　blunt

pattering　on　the　pavement　of　the　Piazza　with　the　rain　of　their

naked　feet。　　A　painful　and　unnatural　result　comes　of　the　comparison

one　is　forced　to　institute　between　the　growth　of　corruption　as

displayed　in　the　so　much　improved　and　cared　for　fruits　of　the

earth；　and　the　growth　of　corruption　as　displayed　in　these　all

uncared　for　（except　inasmuch　as　ever…hunted）　savages。



There　was　early　coffee　to　be　got　about　Covent…garden　Market；　and

that　was　more　company　…　warm　company；　too；　which　was　better。　　Toast

of　a　very　substantial　quality；　was　likewise　procurable：　　though　the

towzled…headed　man　who　made　it；　in　an　inner　chamber　within　the

coffee…room；　hadn't　got　his　coat　on　yet；　and　was　so　heavy　with

sleep　that　in　every　interval　of　toast　and　coffee　he　went　off　anew

behind　the　partition　into　complicated　cross…roads　of　choke　and

snore；　and　lost　his　way　directly。　　Into　one　of　these　establishments

（among　the　earliest）　near　Bow…street；　there　came　one　morning　as　I

sat　over　my　houseless　cup；　pondering　where　to　go　next；　a　man　in　a

high　and　long　snuff…coloured　coat；　and　shoes；　and；　to　the　best　of

my　belief；　nothing　else　but　a　hat；　who　took　out　of　his　hat　a　large

cold　meat　pudding；　a　meat　pudding　so　large　that　it　was　a　very　tight

fit；　and　brought　the　lining　of　the　hat　out　with　it。　　This

mysterious　man　was　known　by　his　pudding；　for　on　his　entering；　the

man　of　sleep　brought　him　a　pint　of　hot　tea；　a　small　loaf；　and　a

large　knife　and　fork　and　plate。　　Left　to　himself　in　his　box；　he

stood　the　pudding　on　the　bare　table；　and；　instead　of　cutting　it；

stabbed　it；　overhand；　with　the　knife；　like　a　mortal　enemy；　then

took　the　knife　out；　wiped　it　on　his　sleeve；　tore　the　pudding

asunder　with　his　fingers；　and　ate　it　all　up。　　The　remembrance　of

this　man　with　the　pudding　remains　with　me　as　the　remembrance　of　the

most　spectral　person　my　houselessness　encountered。　　Twice　only　was

I　in　that　establishment；　and　twice　I　saw　him　stalk　in　（as　I　should

say；　just　out　of　bed；　and　presently　going　back　to　bed）；　take　out

his　pudding；　stab　his　pudding；　wipe　the　dagger；　and　eat　his　pudding

all　up。　　He　was　a　man　whose　figure　promised　cadaverousness；　but　who

had　an　excessively　red　face；　though　shaped　like　a　horse's。　　On　the

second　occasion　of　my　seeing　him；　he　said　huskily　to　the　man　of

sleep；　'Am　I　red　to…night？'　　'You　are；'　he　uncompromisingly

answered。　　'My　mother；'　said　the　spectre；　'was　a　red…faced　woman

that　liked　drink；　and　I　looked　at　her　hard　when　she　laid　in　her

coffin；　and　I　took　the　complexion。'　　Somehow；　the　pudding　seemed　an

unwholesome　pudding　after　that；　and　I　put　myself　in　its　way　no

more。



When　there　was　no　market；　or　when　I　wanted　variety；　a　railway

terminus　with　the　morning　mails　coming　in；　was　remunerative

company。　　But　like　most　of　the　company　to　be　had　in　this　world；　it

lasted　only　a　very　short　time。　　The　station　lamps　would　burst　out

ablaze；　the　porters　would　emerge　from　places　of　concealment；　the

cabs　and　trucks　would　rattle　to　their　places　（the　post…office　carts

were　already　in　theirs）；　and；　finally；　the　bell　would　strike　up；

and　the　train　would　come　banging　in。　　But　there　were　few　passengers

and　little　luggage；　and　everything　scuttled　away　with　the　greatest

expedition。　　The　locomotive　post…offices；　with　their　great　nets　…

as　if　they　had　been　dragging　the　country　for　bodies　…　would　fly

open　as　to　their　doors；　and　would　disgorge　a　smell　of　lamp；　an

exhausted　clerk；　a　guard　in　a　red　coat