It seemed sacrilege to waste such life, and yet I
was forced to confess that he was right in not
marrying on four pound ten in London Town.
Just as the scene-shifter was happier in making
both ends meet in a room shared with two other
men, than he would have been had he packed a
feeble family along with a couple of men into a
cheaper room, and failed in making both ends meet.

And clay by day I became convinced that not
only is it unwise, but it is criminal for the people of
the Abyss to marry. They are the stones by the
builder rejected. There is no place for them in
the social fabric, while all the forces of society
drive them downward till they perish. At the
bottom of the Abyss they are feeble, besotted, and
imbecile. If they reproduce, the life is so cheap
that perforce it perishes of itself. The work of
the world goes on above them, and they do not
care to take part in it, nor are they able. More
over, the work of the world does not need them.
There are plenty, far fitter than they, clinging to
the steep slope above, and struggling frantically to
slide no more.

In short, the London Abyss is a vast shambles.
Year by year, and decade after decade, rural Eng
land pours in a flood of vigorous strong life, that
not only does not renew itself, but perishes by the
third generation. Competent authorities aver that

[[40]]

p039 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p040w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p041

v?