The Night Side of London by James Ewing Ritchie

London is several cities rolled into one. If we walk along Regent-street, it is a city of gorgeous shops, -- if you turn into the West, of parks and palaces, -- if you traverse St Giles, of gin and dirt; -- again, in Belgravia it is rich and grand, -- in Pimlico it is poor and pretentious, -- in Russell-square it is well to do, -- in Islington it is plain and pious; and, strange as it may seem, the people are equally localised in their ideas. Jobson, the Stock-broker, lives at Clapham, and for years he has never set foot in any other streets than those leading from the Stock Exchange to that select and favoured spot. The law clerks, who live in Pimlico, seldom stray further than John-street, Bedford-row. The city gents from Islington and Holloway generally cluster round the Bank or the Post-office, and for years go in the morning and return at night by one unvaried route. The races are equally distinct. The swells in the Park, the millers in Mark-lane, the graziers in the new cattle-market, the Jews in Houndsditch or Holywell-street, the prim pale lads in the city, the sailors in Deptford and Wapping, the German sugar-bakers in Whitechapel, really form distinct communities, and are as worth studying as any race of

"Red Indians dwelling beyond the sunset, / And the baths of all the Western stars. "