There were so many places that required more than just one visit to really appreciate them. But the relentless traffic and noise on returning to the city's streets after a visit almost erased from my memory the wonderful things I had just seen. They say there are quieter places to visit in central London, but I never found any.  The suburbs proved much the quieter.

The excess of commerce and trade within the metropolis is, I believe, the cause of the dislocation of its citizens from community life enjoyed in small towns. After all, when the novelty of innovation and tourist attraction fades, only the residents are left to supply the needful spirit so vital for the soul of any community. An example of this is the experience of those who have lived away from home but who then become homesick. The ache they feel is for the warmth and affection of people they once knew, the spirit they felt among former acquaintances, not so much for the town itself.

London: The city of opportunity where the streets are paved with gold and where young hopes and dreams go only for reality to interpose and see them dashed. What is this mysterious attraction that cities have? Experience tells us, just more of the same: More buildings, more people, more variety, less choice. I have come to realize that what is important is what we conquer through adversity, that which is stored up to our credit, and how by our associations we spiritually develop, wherever we may be.

In the city, I found most boarding establishments to be a constraint to association. Some  were lonely hiding places. If, for example, one shared a room with a morose individual, a 'stay-at-home' who just stared blankly into the fireplace, life soon became dreary.

While being an itinerant sub-contractor gave me more scope and confidence, more variety and interest, after a few years I began to notice the interior décor of places I visited for diversion, more than the entertainment itself. It was a sure sign that even the night life had become one long round of frivolous pursuit. I felt that there must be more to life than work and amusement, that work was not the very essence of life itself. But like millions of others, I thought I was stuck with it. But I never gave up hope that a more worthwhile life existed, within myself, and in society. And while living in dingy single rooms, recurring thoughts of the home I had left led me to evaluate my life.

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