'As distant as El Dorado, and as desirable.' The sentence limned with precision the impression which London used to produce upon Drake.

The sight of it touched upon some single chord of fancy in a nature otherwise prosaic, of which the existence was unsuspected by his few companions and unrealised by himself.
Working in that tower which you could see from the summit of the Elm-tree Hill topping the sky-line to the west, in order to complete his education as an engineer before his meagre capital was exhausted, Drake had enjoyed little opportunity of acquiring knowledge of London; and those acquaintances of his who travelled thither with their shiny black bags every morning, seemed to him to know even less than he did.

There were but two points of view from which the town was regarded in the suburb, and the inhabitants chose this view according to their sex.

To the men London was a counting-house, and certainly some miles of yellow brick mansions and flashing glasshouses testified that the view was a profitable one.

To the women it was the alluringly wicked abode of society, and they held their hands before their faces when they mentioned it, to hide their yearning.