CHAPTER XIII

THE CITY OF THE FUTURE




CHAPTER I

THE HOUSE OF BONDAGE

For a considerable number of years I had been a resident in London,
which city I regarded alternately as my Paradise and my House of
Bondage. I am by no means one of those who are always ready to fling
opprobrious epithets at London, such as 'a pestilent wen,' a cluster of
'squalid villages,' and the like; on the contrary, I regard London as
the most fascinating of all cities, with the one exception of that city
of Eternal Memories beside the Tiber. But even Horace loved the
olive-groves of Tivoli more than the far-ranged splendours of the
Palatine; and I may be pardoned if an occasional vision of green fields
often left my eye insensitive to metropolitan attractions.

This is a somewhat sonorous preface to the small matter of my story;
but I am anxious to elaborate it a little, lest it should be imagined
that I am merely a person of bucolic mind, to whom all cities or large
congregations of my fellow-men are in themselves abhorrent. On the
contrary I have an inherent love of all cities which are something more
than mere centres of manufacturing industry. The truly admirable city