But Lazarus showed his rags and his sores too conspicuously for
the convenience of Dives, and was summarily dealt with in the name of
law and order. But as we have Lord Mayor's Days, when all the well-fed
fur-clad City Fathers go in State Coaches through the town, why should
we not have a Lazarus Day, in which the starving Out-of-Works, and the
sweated half-starved "in-works" of London should crawl in their
tattered raggedness, with their gaunt, hungry faces, and emaciated
Wives and children, a Procession of Despair through the main
thoroughfares past the massive houses and princely palaces of luxurious
London?

For these men are gradually, but surely, being sucked down into the
quicksand of modern life. They stretch out their grimy hands to us in
vain appeal, not for charity, but for work.

Work, work! it is always work that they ask. The Divine curse is to
them the most blessed of benedictions. "In the sweat of thy brow thou
shalt eat thy bread," but alas for these forlorn sons of Adam, they
fail to find the bread to eat, for Society has no work for them to do.
They have not even leave to sweat. As well as discussing how these
poor wanderers should in the second Adam "all be made alive," ought we
not to put forth some effort to effect their restoration to that share
in the heritage of lab our which is theirs by right of descent from the
first Adam?


CHAPTER 4. THE OUT-OF-WORKS

There is hardly any more pathetic figure than that of the strong able
worker crying plaintively in the midst of our palaces and churches not