diff options
Diffstat (limited to '5249-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 5249-0.txt | 5637 |
1 files changed, 5637 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/5249-0.txt b/5249-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efbb84b --- /dev/null +++ b/5249-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5637 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Travels in England in 1782, by Charles P. +Moritz, Edited by Henry Morley + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Travels in England in 1782 + + +Author: Charles P. Moritz + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: July 2, 2014 [eBook #5249] +[This file was first posted on June 11, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRAVELS IN ENGLAND IN 1782*** + + +Transcribed from the 1886 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + TRAVELS IN ENGLAND + IN 1782 + + + * * * * * + + BY + + C. P. MORITZ. + + [Picture: Decorative graphic] + + CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited: + _LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_. + 1886. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +CHARLES P. MORITZ’S “Travels, chiefly on foot, through several parts of +England in 1782, described in Letters to a Friend,” were translated from +the German by a lady, and published in 1795. John Pinkerton included +them in the second volume of his Collection of Voyages and Travels. + +The writer of this account of England as it was about a hundred years +ago, and seven years before the French Revolution, was a young Prussian +clergyman, simply religious, calmly enthusiastic for the freer forms of +citizenship, which he found in England and contrasted with the military +system of Berlin. The touch of his times was upon him, with some of the +feeling that caused Frenchmen, after the first outbreak of the +Revolution, to hail Englishmen as “their forerunners in the glorious +race.” He had learnt English at home, and read Milton, whose name was +inscribed then in German literature on the banners of the free. + +In 1782 Charles Moritz came to England with little in his purse and +“Paradise Lost” in his pocket, which he meant to read in the Land of +Milton. He came ready to admire, and enthusiasm adds some colour to his +earliest impressions; but when they were coloured again by hard +experience, the quiet living sympathy remained. There is nothing small +in the young Pastor Moritz, we feel a noble nature in his true simplicity +of character. + +He stayed seven weeks with us, three of them in London. He travelled on +foot to Richmond, Windsor, Oxford, Birmingham, and Matlock, with some +experience of a stage coach on the way back; and when, in dread of being +hurled from his perch on the top as the coach flew down hill, he tried a +safer berth among the luggage in the basket, he had further experience. +It was like that of Hood’s old lady, in the same place of inviting +shelter, who, when she crept out, had only breath enough left to murmur, +“Oh, them boxes!” + +Pastor Moritz’s experience of inns was such as he hardly could pick up in +these days of the free use of the feet. But in those days everybody who +was anybody rode. And even now, there might be cold welcome to a +shabby-looking pedestrian without a knapsack. Pastor Moritz had his +Milton in one pocket and his change of linen in the other. From some +inns he was turned away as a tramp, and in others he found cold comfort. +Yet he could be proud of a bit of practical wisdom drawn by himself out +of the “Vicar of Wakefield,” that taught him to conciliate the innkeeper +by drinking with him; and the more the innkeeper drank of the ale ordered +the better, because Pastor Moritz did not like it, and it did not like +him. He also felt experienced in the ways of the world when, having +taken example from the manners of a bar-maid, if he drank in a full room +he did not omit to say, “Your healths, gentlemen all.” + +Fielding’s Parson Adams, with his Æschylus in his pocket, and Parson +Moritz with his Milton, have points of likeness that bear strong witness +to Fielding’s power of entering into the spirit of a true and gentle +nature. After the first touches of enthusiastic sentiment, that +represent real freshness of enjoyment, there is no reaction to excess in +opposite extreme. The young foot traveller settles down to simple truth, +retains his faith in English character, and reports ill-usage without a +word of bitterness. + +The great charm of this book is its unconscious expression of the +writer’s character. His simple truthfulness presents to us of 1886 as +much of the England of 1782 as he was able to see with eyes full of +intelligence and a heart full of kindness. He heard Burke speak on the +death of his friend and patron Lord Rockingham, with sudden rebuke to an +indolent and inattentive house. He heard young Pitt, and saw how he +could fix, boy as he looked, every man’s attention. + + “Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us + To see oursels as others see us! + It wad frae many a blunder free us, + And foolish notion.” + +And when the power is so friendly as that of the Pastor Moritz, we may, +if wise, know ourselves better than from a thousand satires, but if +foolish we may let all run into self-praise. + + H. M. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + _On the Thames_, 31st _May_. + +AT length, my dearest Gedike, I find myself safely landed on the happy +shores of that country, a sight of which has, for many years, been my +most earnest wish; and whither I have so often in imagination transported +myself. A few hours ago the green hills of England yet swam imperfectly +before our eyes, scarcely perceptible in the distant horizon: they now +unfold themselves on either side, forming as it were a double +amphitheatre. The sun bursts through the clouds, and gilds alternately +the shrubs and meadows on the distant shores, and we now espy the tops of +two masts of ships just peeping above the surface of the deep. What an +awful warning to adventurous men! We now sail close by those very sands +(the Goodwin) where so many unfortunate persons have found their graves. + +The shores now regularly draw nearer to each other: the danger of the +voyage is over; and the season for enjoyment, unembittered by cares, +commences. How do we feel ourselves, we, who have long been wandering as +it were, in a boundless space, on having once more gained prospects that +are not without limits! I should imagine our sensations as somewhat like +those of the traveller who traverses the immeasurable deserts of America, +when fortunately he obtains a hut wherein to shelter himself; in those +moments he certainly enjoys himself; nor does he then complain of its +being too small. It is indeed the lot of man to be always circumscribed +to a narrow space, even when he wanders over the most extensive regions; +even when the huge sea envelops him all around, and wraps him close to +its bosom, in the act, as it were, of swallowing him up in a moment: +still he is separated from all the circumjacent immensity of space only +by one small part, or insignificant portion of that immensity. + +That portion of this space, which I now see surrounding me, is a most +delightful selection from the whole of beautiful nature. Here is the +Thames full of large and small ships and boats, dispersed here and there, +which are either sailing on with us, or lying at anchor; and there the +hills on either side, clad with so soft and mild a green, as I have +nowhere else ever seen equalled. The charming banks of the Elbe, which I +so lately quitted, are as much surpassed by these shores as autumn is by +spring! I see everywhere nothing but fertile and cultivated lands; and +those living hedges which in England more than in any other country, form +the boundaries of the green cornfields, and give to the whole of the +distant country the appearance of a large and majestic garden. The neat +villages and small towns with sundry intermediate country seats, suggest +ideas of prosperity and opulence which is not possible to describe. + +The prospect towards Gravesend is particularly beautiful. It is a clever +little town, built on the side of a hill; about which there lie hill and +dale and meadows, and arable land, intermixed with pleasure grounds and +country seats; all diversified in the most agreeable manner. On one of +the highest of these hills near Gravesend stands a windmill, which is a +very good object, as you see it at some distance, as well as part of the +country around it, on the windings of the Thames. But as few human +pleasures are ever complete and perfect, we too, amidst the pleasing +contemplation of all these beauties, found ourselves exposed on the +quarter-deck to uncommonly cold and piercing weather. An unintermitting +violent shower of rain has driven me into the cabin, where I am now +endeavouring to divert a gloomy hour by giving you the description of a +pleasing one. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + _London_, 2_nd_ _June_. + +THIS morning those of us who were fellow passengers together in the great +cabin, being six in number, requested to be set on shore in a boat, a +little before the vessel got to Dartford, which is still sixteen miles +from London. This expedient is generally adopted, instead of going up +the Thames, towards London, where on account of the astonishing number of +ships, which are always more crowded together the nearer you approach the +city, it frequently requires many days before a ship can finish her +passage. He therefore who wishes to lose no time unnecessarily, and +wishes also to avoid other inconveniences, such as frequent stoppages, +and perhaps, some alarming dashings against other ships, prefers +travelling those few miles by land in a post-chaise, which is not very +expensive, especially when three join together, as three passengers pay +no more than one. This indulgence is allowed by act of parliament. + +As we left the vessel we were honoured with a general huzza, or in the +English phrase with three cheers, echoed from the German sailors of our +ship. This nautical style of bidding their friends farewell our Germans +have learned from the English. The cliff where we landed was white and +chalky, and as the distance was not great, nor other means of conveyance +at hand, we resolved to go on foot to Dartford: immediately on landing we +had a pretty steep hill to climb, and that gained, we arrived at the +first English village, where an uncommon neatness in the structure of the +houses, which in general are built with red bricks and flat roofs, struck +me with a pleasing surprise, especially when I compared them with the +long, rambling, inconvenient, and singularly mean cottages of our +peasants. We now continued our way through the different villages, each +furnished with his staff, and thus exhibited no remote resemblance of a +caravan. Some few people who met us seemed to stare at us, struck, +perhaps, by the singularity of our dress, or the peculiarity of our +manner of travelling. On our route we passed a wood where a troop of +gipsies had taken up their abode around a fire under a tree. The +country, as we continued to advance, became more and more beautiful. +Naturally, perhaps, the earth is everywhere pretty much alike, but how +different is it rendered by art! How different is that on which I now +tread from ours, and every other spot I have ever seen. The soil is rich +even to exuberance, the verdure of the trees and hedges, in short the +whole of this paradisaical region is without a parallel! The roads too +are incomparable; I am astonished how they have got them so firm and +solid; every step I took I felt, and was conscious it was English ground +on which I trod. + +We breakfasted at Dartford. Here, for the first time, I saw an English +soldier, in his red uniform, his hair cut short and combed back on his +forehead, so as to afford a full view of his fine, broad, manly face. +Here too I first saw (what I deemed a true English fight) in the street, +two boys boxing. + +Our little party now separated, and got into two post-chaises, each of +which hold three persons, though it must be owned three cannot sit quite +so commodiously in these chaises as two: the hire of a post-chaise is a +shilling for every English mile. They may be compared to our extra +posts, because they are to be had at all times. But these carriages are +very neat and lightly built, so that you hardly perceive their motion as +they roll along these firm smooth roads; they have windows in front, and +on both sides. The horses are generally good, and the postillions +particularly smart and active, and always ride on a full trot. The one +we had wore his hair cut short, a round hat, and a brown jacket of +tolerable fine cloth, with a nosegay in his bosom. Now and then, when he +drove very hard, he looked round, and with a smile seemed to solicit our +approbation. A thousand charming spots, and beautiful landscapes, on +which my eye would long have dwelt with rapture, were now rapidly passed +with the speed of an arrow. + +Our road appeared to be undulatory, and our journey, like the journey of +life, seemed to be a pretty regular alternation of up hill and down, and +here and there it was diversified with copses and woods; the majestic +Thames every now and then, like a little forest of masts, rising to our +view, and anon losing itself among the delightful towns and villages. +The amazing large signs which at the entrance of villages hang in the +middle of the street, being fastened to large beams, which are extended +across the street from one house to another opposite to it, particularly +struck me; these sign-posts have the appearance of gates or of gateways, +for which I at first took them, but the whole apparatus, unnecessarily +large as it seems to be, is intended for nothing more than to tell the +inquisitive traveller that there is an inn. At length, stunned as it +were by this constant rapid succession of interesting objects to engage +our attention, we arrived at Greenwich nearly in a state of stupefaction. + + _The Prospect of London_. + +We first descried it enveloped in a thick smoke or fog. St. Paul’s arose +like some huge mountain above the enormous mass of smaller buildings. +The Monument, a very lofty column, erected in memory of the great fire of +London, exhibited to us, perhaps, chiefly on account of its immense +height, apparently so disproportioned to its other dimensions (for it +actually struck us as resembling rather a slender mast, towering up in +immeasurable height into the clouds, than as that it really is, a stately +obelisk) an unusual and singular appearance. Still we went on, and drew +nearer and nearer with amazing velocity, and the surrounding objects +became every moment more distinct. Westminster Abbey, the Tower, a +steeple, one church, and then another, presented themselves to our view; +and we could now plainly distinguish the high round chimneys on the tops +of the houses, which yet seemed to us to form an innumerable number of +smaller spires, or steeples. + +The road from Greenwich to London is actually busier and far more alive +than the most frequented streets in Berlin. At every step we met people +on horseback, in carriages, and foot passengers; and everywhere also, and +on each side of the road, well-built and noble houses, whilst all along, +at proper distances, the road was lined with lamp-posts. One thing, in +particular, struck and surprised me not a little. This was the number of +people we met riding and walking with spectacles on, among whom were many +who appeared stout, healthy, and young. We were stopped at least three +times at barriers or gates, here called turnpikes, to pay a duty or toll +which, however small, as being generally paid in their copper coinage, in +the end amounted to some shillings. + +At length we arrived at the magnificent bridge of Westminster. The +prospect from this bridge alone seems to afford one the epitome of a +journey, or a voyage in miniature, as containing something of everything +that mostly occurs on a journey. It is a little assemblage of contrasts +and contrarieties. In contrast to the round, modern, and majestic +cathedral of St. Paul’s on your right, the venerable, old-fashioned, and +hugely noble, long abbey of Westminster, with its enormous pointed roof, +rises on the left. Down the Thames to the right you see Blackfriar’s +Bridge, which does not yield much, if at all, in beauty to that of +Westminster; on the left bank of the Thames are delightful terraces, +planted with trees, and those new tasteful buildings called the Adelphi. +On the Thames itself are countless swarms of little boats passing and +repassing, many with one mast and one sail, and many with none, in which +persons of all ranks are carried over. Thus there is hardly less stir +and bustle on this river, than there is in some of its own London’s +crowded streets. Here, indeed, you no longer see great ships, for they +come no farther than London Bridge. + +We now drove into the city by Charing Cross, and along the Strand, to +those very Adelphi Buildings which had just afforded us so charming a +prospect on Westminster Bridge. + +My two travelling companions, both in the ship and the post-chaise, were +two young Englishmen, who living in this part of the town, obligingly +offered me any assistance and services in their power, and in particular, +to procure me a lodging the same day in their neighbourhood. + +In the streets through which we passed, I must own the houses in general +struck me as if they were dark and gloomy, and yet at the same time they +also struck me as prodigiously great and majestic. At that moment, I +could not in my own mind compare the external view of London with that of +any other city I had ever before seen. But I remember (and surely it is +singular) that about five years ago, on my first entrance into Leipzig, I +had the very same sensations I now felt. It is possible that the high +houses, by which the streets at Leipzig are partly darkened, the great +number of shops, and the crowd of people, such as till then I had never +seen, might have some faint resemblance with the scene now surrounding me +in London. + +There are everywhere leading from the Strand to the Thames, some +well-built, lesser, or subordinate streets, of which the Adelphi +Buildings are now by far the foremost. One district in this +neighbourhood goes by the name of York Buildings, and in this lies George +Street, where my two travelling companions lived. There reigns in those +smaller streets towards the Thames so pleasing a calm, compared to the +tumult and bustle of people, and carriages, and horses, that are +constantly going up and down the Strand, that in going into one of them +you can hardly help fancying yourself removed at a distance from the +noise of the city, even whilst the noisiest part of it is still so near +at hand. + +It might be about ten or eleven o’clock when we arrived here. After the +two Englishmen had first given me some breakfast at their lodgings, which +consisted of tea and bread and butter, they went about with me +themselves, in their own neighbourhood, in search of an apartment, which +they at length procured for me for sixteen shillings a week, at the house +of a tailor’s widow who lived opposite to them. It was very fortunate, +on other accounts, that they went with me, for equipped as I was, having +neither brought clean linen nor change of clothes from my trunk, I might +perhaps have found it difficult to obtain good lodgings. + +It was a very uncommon but pleasing sensation I experienced on being now, +for the first time in my life, entirely among Englishmen: among people +whose language was foreign, their manners foreign, and in a foreign +climate, with whom, notwithstanding, I could converse as familiarly as +though we had been educated together from our infancy. It is certainly +an inestimable advantage to understand the language of the country +through which you travel. I did not at first give the people I was with +any reason to suspect I could speak English, but I soon found that the +more I spoke, the more attention and regard I met with. I now occupy a +large room in front on the ground floor, which has a carpet and mats, and +is very neatly furnished; the chairs are covered with leather, and the +tables are of mahogany. Adjoining to this I have another large room. I +may do just as I please, and keep my own tea, coffee, bread and butter, +for which purpose my landlady has given me a cupboard in my room, which +locks up. + +The family consists of the mistress of the house, her maid, and her two +sons, Jacky and Jerry; singular abbreviations for John and Jeremiah. The +eldest, Jacky, about twelve years old, is a very lively boy, and often +entertains me in the most pleasing manner by relating to me his different +employments at school, and afterwards desiring me in my turn to relate to +him all manner of things about Germany. He repeats his _amo_, _amas_, +_amavi_, in the same singing tone as our common school-boys. As I +happened once when he was by, to hum a lively tune, he stared at me with +surprise, and then reminded me it was Sunday; and so, that I might not +forfeit his good opinion by any appearance of levity, I gave him to +understand that, in the hurry of my journey, I had forgotten the day. He +has already shown me St. James’s Park, which is not far from hence; and +now let me give you some description of the renowned + + _St. James’s Park_. + +The park is nothing more than a semicircle, formed of an alley of trees, +which enclose a large green area in the middle of which is a marshy pond. + +The cows feed on this green turf, and their milk is sold here on the +spot, quite new. + +In all the alleys or walks there are benches, where you may rest +yourself. When you come through the Horse Guards (which is provided with +several passages) into the park, on the right hand is St. James’s Palace, +or the king’s place of residence, one of the meanest public buildings in +London. At the lower end, quite at the extremity, is the queen’s palace, +a handsome and modern building, but very much resembling a private house. +As for the rest, there are generally everywhere about St. James’s Park +very good houses, which is a great addition to it. There is also before +the semicircle of the trees just mentioned a large vacant space, where +the soldiers are exercised. + +How little this famous park is to be compared with our park at Berlin, I +need not mention. And yet one cannot but form a high idea of St. James’s +Park and other public places in London; this arises, perhaps, from their +having been oftener mentioned in romances and other books than ours have. +Even the squares and streets of London are more noted and better known +than many of our principal towns. + +But what again greatly compensates for the mediocrity of this park, is +the astonishing number of people who, towards evening in fine weather, +resort here; our finest walks are never so full even in the midst of +summer. The exquisite pleasure of mixing freely with such a concourse of +people, who are for the most part well-dressed and handsome, I have +experienced this evening for the first time. + +Before I went to the park I took another walk with my little Jacky, which +did not cost me much fatigue and yet was most uncommonly interesting. I +went down the little street in which I live, to the Thames nearly at the +end of it, towards the left, a few steps led me to a singularly pretty +terrace, planted with trees, on the very brink of the river. + +Here I had the most delightful prospect you can possibly imagine. Before +me was the Thames with all its windings, and the stately arches of its +bridges; Westminster with its venerable abbey to the right, to the left +again London, with St. Paul’s, seemed to wind all along the windings of +the Thames, and on the other side of the water lay Southwark, which is +now also considered as part of London. Thus, from this single spot, I +could nearly at one view see the whole city, at least that side of it +towards the Thames. Not far from hence, in this charming quarter of the +town, lived the renowned Garrick. Depend upon it I shall often visit +this delightful walk during my stay in London. + +To-day my two Englishmen carried me to a neighbouring tavern, or rather +an eating-house, where we paid a shilling each for some roast meat and a +salad, giving at the same time nearly half as much to the waiter, and yet +this is reckoned a cheap house, and a cheap style of living. But I +believe, for the future, I shall pretty often dine at home; I have +already begun this evening with my supper. I am now sitting by the fire +in my own room in London. The day is nearly at an end, the first I have +spent in England, and I hardly know whether I ought to call it only one +day, when I reflect what a quick and varied succession of new and +striking ideas have, in so short a time, passed in my mind. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + _London_, 5_th_ _June_. + +AT length, dearest Gedike, I am again settled, as I have now got my trunk +and all my things from the ship, which arrived only yesterday. Not +wishing to have it taken to the Custom House, which occasions a great +deal of trouble, I was obliged to give a douceur to the officers, and +those who came on board the ship to search it. Having pacified, as I +thought, one of them with a couple of shillings, another came forward and +protested against the delivery of the trunk upon trust till I had given +him as much. To him succeeded a third, so that it cost me six shillings, +which I willingly paid, because it would have cost me still more at the +Custom House. + +By the side of the Thames were several porters, one of whom took my huge +heavy trunk on his shoulders with astonishing ease, and carried it till I +met a hackney coach. This I hired for two shillings, immediately put the +trunk into it, accompanying it myself without paying anything extra for +my own seat. This is a great advantage in the English hackney coaches, +that you are allowed to take with you whatever you please, for you thus +save at least one half of what you must pay to a porter, and besides go +with it yourself, and are better accommodated. The observations and the +expressions of the common people here have often struck me as peculiar. +They are generally laconic, but always much in earnest and significant. +When I came home, my landlady kindly recommended it to the coachman not +to ask more than was just, as I was a foreigner; to which he answered, +“Nay, if he were not a foreigner I should not overcharge him.” + +My letters of recommendation to a merchant here, which I could not bring +with me on account of my hasty departure from Hamburgh, are also arrived. +These have saved me a great deal of trouble in the changing of my money. +I can now take my German money back to Germany, and when I return thither +myself, refund to the correspondent of the merchant here the sum which he +here pays me in English money. I should otherwise have been obliged to +sell my Prussian Fredericks-d’or for what they weighed; for some few +Dutch dollars which I was obliged to part with before I got this credit +they only gave me eight shillings. + +A foreigner has here nothing to fear from being pressed as a sailor, +unless, indeed, he should be found at any suspicious place. A singular +invention for this purpose of pressing is a ship, which is placed on land +not far from the Tower, on Tower Hill, furnished with masts and all the +appurtenances of a ship. The persons attending this ship promise simple +country people, who happen to be standing and staring at it, to show it +to them for a trifle, and as soon as they are in, they are secured as in +a trap, and according to circumstances made sailors of or let go again. + +The footway, paved with large stones on both sides of the street, appears +to a foreigner exceedingly convenient and pleasant, as one may there walk +in perfect safety, in no more danger from the prodigious crowd of carts +and coaches, than if one was in one’s own room, for no wheel dares come a +finger’s breadth upon the curb stone. However, politeness requires you +to let a lady, or any one to whom you wish to show respect, pass, not, as +we do, always to the right, but on the side next the houses or the wall, +whether that happens to be on the right or on the left, being deemed the +safest and most convenient. You seldom see a person of any understanding +or common sense walk in the middle of the streets in London, excepting +when they cross over, which at Charing Cross and other places, where +several streets meet, is sometimes really dangerous. + +It has a strange appearance—especially in the Strand, where there is a +constant succession of shop after shop, and where, not unfrequently, +people of different trades inhabit the same house—to see their doors or +the tops of their windows, or boards expressly for the purpose, all +written over from top to bottom with large painted letters. Every +person, of every trade or occupation, who owns ever so small a portion of +a house, makes a parade with a sign at his door; and there is hardly a +cobbler whose name and profession may not be read in large golden +characters by every one that passes. It is here not at all uncommon to +see on doors in one continued succession, “Children educated here,” +“Shoes mended here,” “Foreign spirituous liquors sold here,” and +“Funerals furnished here;” of all these inscriptions. I am sorry to +observe that “Dealer in foreign spirituous liquors” is by far the most +frequent. And indeed it is allowed by the English themselves, that the +propensity of the common people to the drinking of brandy or gin is +carried to a great excess; and I own it struck me as a peculiar +phraseology, when, to tell you that a person is intoxicated or drunk, you +hear them say, as they generally do, that he is in liquor. In the late +riots, which even yet are hardly quite subsided, and which are still the +general topic of conversation, more people have been found dead near +empty brandy-casks in the streets, than were killed by the musket-balls +of regiments that were called in. As much as I have seen of London +within these two days, there are on the whole I think not very many fine +streets and very fine houses, but I met everywhere a far greater number +and handsomer people than one commonly meets in Berlin. It gives me much +real pleasure when I walk from Charing Cross up the Strand, past St. +Paul’s to the Royal Exchange, to meet in the thickest crowd persons from +the highest to the lowest ranks, almost all well-looking people, and +cleanly and neatly dressed. I rarely see even a fellow with a +wheel-barrow who has not a shirt on, and that, too, such a one as shows +it has been washed; nor even a beggar without both a shirt and shoes and +stockings. The English are certainly distinguished for cleanliness. + +It has a very uncommon appearance in this tumult of people, where every +one, with hasty and eager step, seems to be pursuing either his business +or his pleasure, and everywhere making his way through the crowd, to +observe, as you often may, people pushing one against another, only +perhaps to see a funeral pass. The English coffins are made very +economically, according to the exact form of the body; they are flat, and +broad at top; tapering gradually from the middle, and drawing to a point +at the feet, not very unlike the case of a violin. + +A few dirty-looking men, who bear the coffin, endeavour to make their way +through the crowd as well as they can; and some mourners follow. The +people seem to pay as little attention to such a procession, as if a +hay-cart were driving past. The funerals of people of distinction, and +of the great, are, however, differently regarded. + +These funerals always appear to me the more indecent in a populous city, +from the total indifference of the beholders, and the perfect unconcern +with which they are beheld. The body of a fellow-creature is carried to +his long home as though it had been utterly unconnected with the rest of +mankind. And yet, in a small town or village, everyone knows everyone; +and no one can be so insignificant as not to be missed when he is taken +away. + +That same influenza which I left at Berlin, I have had the hard fortune +again to find here; and many people die of it. It is as yet very cold +for the time of the year, and I am obliged every day to have a fire. I +must own that the heat or warmth given by sea-coal, burnt in the chimney, +appears to me softer and milder than that given by our stoves. The sight +of the fire has also a cheerful and pleasing effect. Only you must take +care not to look at it steadily, and for a continuance, for this is +probably the reason that there are so many young old men in England, who +walk and ride in the public streets with their spectacles on; thus +anticipating, in the bloom of youth, those conveniences and comforts +which were intended for old age. + +I now constantly dine in my own lodgings; and I cannot but flatter myself +that my meals are regulated with frugality. My usual dish at supper is +some pickled salmon, which you eat in the liquor in which it is pickled, +along with some oil and vinegar; and he must be prejudiced or fastidious +who does not relish it as singularly well tasted and grateful food. + +I would always advise those who wish to drink coffee in England, to +mention beforehand how many cups are to be made with half an ounce; or +else the people will probably bring them a prodigious quantity of brown +water; which (notwithstanding all my admonitions) I have not yet been +able wholly to avoid. The fine wheaten bread which I find here, besides +excellent butter and Cheshire-cheese, makes up for my scanty dinners. +For an English dinner, to such lodgers as I am, generally consists of a +piece of half-boiled, or half-roasted meat; and a few cabbage leaves +boiled in plain water; on which they pour a sauce made of flour and +butter. This, I assure you, is the usual method of dressing vegetables +in England. + +The slices of bread and butter, which they give you with your tea, are as +thin as poppy leaves. But there is another kind of bread and butter +usually eaten with tea, which is toasted by the fire, and is incomparably +good. You take one slice after the other and hold it to the fire on a +fork till the butter is melted, so that it penetrates a number of slices +at once: this is called toast. + +The custom of sleeping without a feather-bed for a covering particularly +pleased me. You here lie between two sheets: underneath the bottom sheet +is a fine blanket, which, without oppressing you, keeps you sufficiently +warm. My shoes are not cleaned in the house, but by a person in the +neighbourhood, whose trade it is; who fetches them every morning, and +brings them back cleaned; for which she receives weekly so much. When +the maid is displeased with me, I hear her sometimes at the door call me +“the German”; otherwise in the family I go by the name of “the +Gentleman.” + +I have almost entirely laid aside riding in a coach, although it does not +cost near so much as it does at Berlin; as I can go and return any +distance not exceeding an English mile for a shilling, for which I should +there at least pay a florin. But, moderate as English fares are, still +you save a great deal, if you walk or go on foot, and know only how to +ask your way. From my lodging to the Royal Exchange is about as far as +from one end of Berlin to the other, and from the Tower and St. +Catharine’s, where the ships arrive in the Thames, as far again; and I +have already walked this distance twice, when I went to look after my +trunk before I got it out of the ship. As it was quite dark when I came +back the first evening, I was astonished at the admirable manner in which +the streets are lighted up; compared to which our streets in Berlin make +a most miserable show. The lamps are lighted whilst it is still +daylight, and are so near each other, that even on the most ordinary and +common nights, the city has the appearance of a festive illumination, for +which some German prince, who came to London for the first time, once, +they say, actually took it, and seriously believed it to have been +particularly ordered on account of his arrival. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + _The_ 9_th_ _June_, 1782. + +I PREACHED this day at the German church on Ludgate Hill, for the Rev. +Mr. Wendeborn. He is the author of “Die statischen Beyträge zur nähern +Kentniss Grossbrittaniens.” This valuable book has already been of +uncommon service to me, and I cannot but recommend it to everyone who +goes to England. It is the more useful, as you can with ease carry it in +your pocket, and you find in it information on every subject. It is +natural to suppose that Mr. Wendeborn, who has now been a length of time +in England, must have been able more frequently, and with greater +exactness to make his observations, than those who only pass through, or +make a very short stay. It is almost impossible for anyone, who has this +book always at hand, to omit anything worthy of notice in or about +London; or not to learn all that is most material to know of the state +and situation of the kingdom in general. + +Mr. Wendeborn lives in New Inn, near Temple Bar, in a philosophical, but +not unimproving, retirement. He is almost become a native; and his +library consists chiefly of English books. Before I proceed, I must just +mention, that he has not hired, but bought his apartments in this great +building, called New Inn: and this, I believe, is pretty generally the +case with the lodgings in this place. A purchaser of any of these rooms +is considered as a proprietor; and one who has got a house and home, and +has a right, in parliamentary or other elections, to give his vote, if he +is not a foreigner, which is the case with Mr. Wendeborn, who, +nevertheless, was visited by Mr. Fox when he was to be chosen member for +Westminster. + +I saw, for the first time, at Mr. Wendeborn’s, a very useful machine, +which is little known in Germany, or at least not much used. + +This is a press in which, by means of very strong iron springs, a written +paper may be printed on another blank paper, and you thus save yourself +the trouble of copying; and at the same time multiply your own +handwriting. Mr. Wendeborn makes use of this machine every time he sends +manuscripts abroad, of which he wishes to keep a copy. This machine was +of mahogany, and cost pretty high. I suppose it is because the +inhabitants of London rise so late, that divine service begin only at +half-past ten o’clock. I missed Mr. Wendeborn this morning, and was +therefore obliged to enquire of the door-keeper at St. Paul’s for a +direction to the German church, where I was to preach. He did not know +it. I then asked at another church, not far from thence. Here I was +directed right, and after I had passed through an iron gate to the end of +a long passage, I arrived just in time at the church, where, after the +sermon, I was obliged to read a public thanksgiving for the safe arrival +of our ship. The German clergy here dress exactly the same as the +English clergy—_i.e._, in long robes with wide sleeves—in which I +likewise was obliged to wrap myself. Mr. Wendeborn wears his own hair, +which curls naturally, and the toupee is combed up. + +The other German clergymen whom I have seen wear wigs, as well as many of +the English. + +I yesterday waited on our ambassador, Count Lucy, and was agreeably +surprised at the simplicity of his manner of living. He lives in a small +private house. His secretary lives upstairs, where also I met with the +Prussian consul, who happened just then to be paying him a visit. Below, +on the right hand, I was immediately shown into his Excellency’s room, +without being obliged to pass through an antechamber. He wore a blue +coat, with a red collar and red facings. He conversed with me, as we +drank a dish of coffee, on various learned topics; and when I told him of +the great dispute now going on about the _tacismus_ or _stacismus_, he +declared himself, as a born Greek, for the _stacismus_. + +When I came to take my leave, he desired me to come and see him without +ceremony whenever it suited me, as he should be always happy to see me. + +Mr. Leonhard, who has translated several celebrated English plays, such +as “The School for Scandal,” and some others, lives here as a private +person, instructing Germans in English, and Englishmen in German, with +great ability. He also it is who writes the articles concerning England +for the new Hamburgh newspaper, for which he is paid a stated yearly +stipend. I may add also, that he is the master of a German Freemasons’ +lodge in London, and representative of all the German lodges in +England—an employment of far more trouble than profit to him, for all the +world applies to him in all cases and emergencies. I also was +recommended to him from Hamburgh. He is a very complaisant man, and has +already shown me many civilities. He repeats English poetry with great +propriety, and speaks the language nearly with the same facility as he +does his mother language. He is married to an amiable Englishwoman. I +wish him all possible happiness. And now let me tell you something of +the so often imitated, but perhaps inimitable + + _Vauxhall_. + +I yesterday visited Vauxhall for the first time. I had not far to go +from my lodgings, in the Adelphi Buildings, to Westminster Bridge, where +you always find a great number of boats on the Thames, which are ready on +the least signal to serve those who will pay them a shilling or sixpence, +or according to the distance. + +From hence I went up the Thames to Vauxhall, and as I passed along I saw +Lambeth; and the venerable old palace belonging to the archbishops of +Canterbury lying on my left. + +Vauxhall is, properly speaking, the name of a little village in which the +garden, now almost exclusively bearing the same name, is situated. You +pay a shilling entrance. + +On entering it, I really found, or fancied I found, some resemblance to +our Berlin Vauxhall, if, according to Virgil, I may be permitted to +compare small things with great ones. The walks at least, with the +paintings at the end, and the high trees, which, here and there form a +beautiful grove, or wood, on either side, were so similar to those of +Berlin, that often, as I walked along them, I seemed to transport myself, +in imagination, once more to Berlin, and forgot for a moment that immense +seas, and mountains, and kingdoms now lie between us. I was the more +tempted to indulge in this reverie as I actually met with several +gentlemen, inhabitants of Berlin, in particular Mr. S—r, and some others, +with whom I spent the evening in the most agreeable manner. Here and +there (particularly in one of the charming woods which art has formed in +this garden) you are pleasingly surprised by the sudden appearance of the +statues of the most renowned English poets and philosophers, such as +Milton, Thomson, and others. But, what gave me most pleasure was the +statue of the German composer Handel, which, on entering the garden, is +not far distant from the orchestra. + +This orchestra is among a number of trees situated as in a little wood, +and is an exceedingly handsome one. As you enter the garden, you +immediately hear the sound of vocal and instrumental music. There are +several female singers constantly hired here to sing in public. + +On each side of the orchestra are small boxes, with tables and benches, +in which you sup. The walks before these, as well as in every other part +of the garden, are crowded with people of all ranks. I supped here with +Mr. S—r, and the secretary of the Prussian ambassador, besides a few +other gentlemen from Berlin; but what most astonished me was the boldness +of the women of the town, who often rushed in upon us by half dozens, and +in the most shameless manner importuned us for wine, for themselves and +their followers. Our gentlemen thought it either unwise, unkind, or +unsafe, to refuse them so small a boon altogether. + +Latish in the evening we were entertained with a sight, that is indeed +singularly curious and interesting. In a particular part of the garden a +curtain was drawn up, and by means of some mechanism of extraordinary +ingenuity, the eye and the ear are so completely deceived, that it is not +easy to persuade one’s self it is a deception, and that one does not +actually see and hear a natural waterfall from a high rock. As everyone +was flocking to this scene in crowds, there arose all at once a loud cry +of “Take care of your pockets.” This informed us, but too clearly, that +there were some pickpockets among the crowd, who had already made some +fortunate strokes. + +The rotunda, a magnificent circular building in the garden, particularly +engaged my attention. By means of beautiful chandeliers, and large +mirrors, it was illuminated in the most superb manner; and everywhere +decorated with delightful paintings, and statues, in the contemplation of +which you may spend several hours very agreeably, when you are tired of +the crowd and the bustle, in the walks of the garden. + +Among the paintings one represents the surrender of a besieged city. If +you look at this painting with attention, for any length of time, it +affects you so much that you even shed tears. The expression of the +greatest distress, even bordering on despair, on the part of the +besieged, the fearful expectation of the uncertain issue, and what the +victor will determine concerning those unfortunate people, may all be +read so plainly, and so naturally in the countenances of the inhabitants, +who are imploring for mercy, from the hoary head to the suckling whom his +mother holds up, that you quite forget yourself, and in the end scarcely +believe it to be a painting before you. + +You also here find the busts of the best English authors, placed all +round on the sides. Thus a Briton again meets with his Shakespeare, +Locke, Milton, and Dryden in the public places of his amusements; and +there also reveres their memory. Even the common people thus become +familiar with the names of those who have done honour to their nation; +and are taught to mention them with veneration. For this rotunda is also +an orchestra in which the music is performed in rainy weather. But +enough of Vauxhall! + +Certain it is that the English classical authors are read more generally, +beyond all comparison, than the German; which in general are read only by +the learned; or, at most, by the middle class of people. The English +national authors are in all hands, and read by all people, of which the +innumerable editions they have gone through are a sufficient proof. + +My landlady, who is only a tailor’s widow, reads her Milton; and tells +me, that her late husband first fell in love with her on this very +account: because she read Milton with such proper emphasis. This single +instance, perhaps, would prove but little; but I have conversed with +several people of the lower class, who all knew their national authors, +and who all have read many, if not all, of them. This elevates the lower +ranks, and brings them nearer to the higher. There is hardly any +argument or dispute in conversation, in the higher ranks, about which the +lower cannot also converse or give their opinion. Now, in Germany, since +Gellert, there has as yet been no poet’s name familiar to the people. +But the quick sale of the classical authors is here promoted also by +cheap and convenient editions. They have them all bound in pocket +volumes, as well as in a more pompous style. I myself bought Milton in +duodecimo for two shillings, neatly bound; it is such a one as I can, +with great convenience, carry in my pocket. It also appears to me to be +a good fashion, which prevails here, and here only, that the books which +are most read, are always to be had already well and neatly bound. At +stalls, and in the streets, you every now and then meet with a sort of +antiquarians, who sell single or odd volumes; sometimes perhaps of +Shakespeare, etc., so low as a penny; nay, even sometimes for a halfpenny +a piece. Of one of these itinerant antiquarians I bought the two volumes +of the Vicar of Wakefield for sixpence, _i.e._ for the half of an English +shilling. In what estimation our German literature is held in England, I +was enabled to judge, in some degree, by the printed proposals of a book +which I saw. The title was, “The Entertaining Museum, or Complete +Circulating Library,” which is to contain a list of all the English +classical authors, as well as translations of the best French, Spanish, +Italian, and even German novels. + +The moderate price of this book deserves also to be noticed; as by such +means books in England come more within the reach of the people; and of +course are more generally distributed among them. The advertisement +mentions that in order that everyone may have it in his power to buy this +work, and at once to furnish himself with a very valuable library, +without perceiving the expense, a number will be sent out weekly, which, +stitched, costs sixpence, and bound with the title on the back, +ninepence. The twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth numbers contain the first +and second volume of the Vicar of Wakefield, which I had just bought of +the antiquarian above-mentioned. + +The only translation from the German which has been particularly +successful in England, is Gesner’s “Death of Abel.” The translation of +that work has been oftener reprinted in England than ever the original +was in Germany. I have actually seen the eighteenth edition of it; and +if the English preface is to be regarded, it was written by a lady. +“Klopstock’s Messiah,” as is well known, has been here but ill received; +to be sure, they say it is but indifferently translated. I have not yet +been able to obtain a sight of it. The Rev. Mr. Wendeborn has written a +grammar for the German language in English, for the use of Englishmen, +which has met with much applause. + +I must not forget to mention, that the works of Mr. Jacob Boehmen are all +translated into English. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + _London_, 13_th_ _June_. + +OFTEN as I had heard Ranelagh spoken of, I had yet formed only an +imperfect idea of it. I supposed it to be a garden somewhat different +from that of Vauxhall; but, in fact, I hardly knew what I thought of it. +Yesterday evening I took a walk in order to visit this famous place of +amusement; but I missed my way and got to Chelsea; where I met a man with +a wheel-barrow, who not only very civilly showed me the right road, but +also conversed with me the whole of the distance which we walked +together. And finding, upon enquiry, that I was a subject of the King of +Prussia, he desired me, with much eagerness, to relate to him some +anecdotes concerning that mighty monarch. At length I arrived at +Ranelagh; and having paid my half-crown on entrance, I soon enquired for +the garden door, and it was readily shown to me; when, to my infinite +astonishment, I found myself in a poor, mean-looking, and ill-lighted +garden, where I met but few people. I had not been here long before I +was accosted by a young lady, who also was walking there, and who, +without ceremony, offered me her arm, asking me why I walked thus +solitarily? I now concluded, this could not possibly be the splendid, +much-boasted Ranelagh; and so, seeing not far from me a number of people +entering a door, I followed them, in hopes either to get out again, or to +vary the scene. + +But it is impossible to describe, or indeed to conceive, the effect it +had on me, when, coming out of the gloom of the garden, I suddenly +entered a round building, illuminated by many hundred lamps; the +splendour and beauty of which surpassed everything of the kind I had ever +seen before. Everything seemed here to be round; above, there was a +gallery divided into boxes; and in one part of it an organ with a +beautiful choir, from which issued both instrumental and vocal music. +All around, under this gallery, are handsome painted boxes for those who +wish to take refreshments: the floor was covered with mats, in the middle +of which are four high black pillars; within which there are neat +fire-places for preparing tea, coffee and punch; and all around, also, +there are placed tables, set out with all kinds of refreshments. Within +these four pillars, in a kind of magic rotundo, all the beau-monde of +London move perpetually round and round. + +I at first mixed with this immense concourse of people, of all sexes, +ages, countries, and characters; and I must confess, that the incessant +change of faces, the far greater number of which were strikingly +beautiful, together with the illumination, the extent and majestic +splendour of the place, with the continued sound of the music, makes an +inconceivably delightful impression on the imagination; and I take the +liberty to add, that, on seeing it now for the first time, I felt pretty +nearly the same sensations that I remember to have felt when, in early +youth, I first read the Fairy Tales. + +Being, however, at length tired of the crowd, and being tired also with +always moving round and round in a circle, I sat myself down in one of +the boxes, in order to take some refreshment, and was now contemplating +at my ease this prodigious collection and crowd of a happy, cheerful +world, who were here enjoying themselves devoid of care, when a waiter +very civilly asked me what refreshments I wished to have, and in a few +moments returned with what I asked for. To my astonishment he would +accept no money for these refreshments; which I could not comprehend, +till he told me that everything was included in the half-crown I had paid +at the door; and that I had only to command if I wished for anything +more; but that if I pleased, I might give him as a present a trifling +douceur. This I gave him with pleasure, as I could not help fancying I +was hardly entitled to so much civility and good attention for one single +half-crown. + +I now went up into the gallery, and seated myself in one of the boxes +there; and from thence becoming all at once a grave and moralising +spectator, I looked down on the concourse of people who were still moving +round and round in the fairy circle; and then I could easily distinguish +several stars and other orders of knighthood; French queues and bags +contrasted with plain English heads of hair, or professional wigs; old +age and youth, nobility and commonalty, all passing each other in the +motley swarm. An Englishman who joined me during this my reverie, +pointed out to me on my enquiring, princes and lords with their dazzling +stars; with which they eclipsed the less brilliant part of the company. + +Here some moved round in an eternal circle to see and be seen; there a +group of eager connoisseurs had placed themselves before the orchestra +and were feasting their ears, while others at the well-supplied tables +were regaling the parched roofs of their mouths in a more substantial +manner, and again others, like myself, were sitting alone, in the corner +of a box in the gallery, making their remarks and reflections on so +interesting a scene. + +I now and then indulged myself in the pleasure of exchanging, for some +minutes, all this magnificence and splendour for the gloom of the garden, +in order to renew the pleasing surprise I experienced on my first +entering the building. Thus I spent here some hours in the night in a +continual variation of entertainment; when the crowd now all at once +began to lessen, and I also took a coach and drove home. + +At Ranelagh the company appeared to me much better, and more select than +at Vauxhall; for those of the lower class who go there, always dress +themselves in their best, and thus endeavour to copy the great. Here I +saw no one who had not silk stockings on. Even the poorest families are +at the expense of a coach to go to Ranelagh, as my landlady assured me. +She always fixed on some one day in the year, on which, without fail, she +drove to Ranelagh. On the whole the expense at Ranelagh is nothing near +so great as it is at Vauxhall, if you consider the refreshments; for any +one who sups at Vauxhall, which most people do, is likely, for a very +moderate supper, to pay at least half-a-guinea. + + _The Parliament_. + +I had almost forgotten to tell you that I have already been to the +Parliament House; and yet this is of most importance. For, had I seen +nothing else in England but this, I should have thought my journey +thither amply rewarded. + +As little as I have hitherto troubled myself with politics, because +indeed with us it is but little worth our while, I was however desirous +of being present at a meeting of parliament—a wish that was soon amply +gratified. + +One afternoon, about three o’clock, at which hour, or thereabouts, the +house most commonly meets, I enquired for Westminster Hall, and was very +politely directed by an Englishman. These directions are always given +with the utmost kindness. You may ask whom you please, if you can only +make yourself tolerably well understood; and by thus asking every now and +then, you may with the greatest ease find your way throughout all London. + +Westminster Hall is an enormous Gothic building, whose vaulted roof is +supported, not by pillars, but instead of these there are, on each side, +large unnatural heads of angels, carved in wood, which seem to support +the roof. + +When you have passed through this long hall, you ascend a few steps at +the end, and are led through a dark passage into the House of Commons, +which, below, has a large double-door; and above, there is a small +staircase, by which you go to the gallery, the place allotted for +strangers. + +The first time I went up this small staircase, and had reached the rails, +I saw a very genteel man in black standing there. I accosted him without +any introduction, and I asked him whether I might be allowed to go into +the gallery. He told me that I must be introduced by a member, or else I +could not get admission there. Now, as I had not the honour to be +acquainted with a member, I was under the mortifying necessity of +retreating, and again going down-stairs, as I did much chagrined. And +now, as I was sullenly marching back, I heard something said about a +bottle of wine, which seemed to be addressed to me. + +I could not conceive what it could mean, till I got home, when my +obliging landlady told me I should have given the well-dressed man +half-a-crown, or a couple of shillings for a bottle of wine. Happy in +this information, I went again the next day; when the same man who before +had sent me away, after I had given him only two shillings, very politely +opened the door for me, and himself recommended me to a good seat in the +gallery. + +And thus I now, for the first time, saw the whole of the British nation +assembled in its representatives, in rather a mean-looking building, that +not a little resembles a chapel. The Speaker, an elderly man, with an +enormous wig, with two knotted kind of tresses, or curls, behind, in a +black cloak, his hat on his head, sat opposite to me on a lofty chair; +which was not unlike a small pulpit, save only that in the front of there +was no reading-desk. Before the Speaker’s chair stands a table, which +looks like an altar; and at this there sit two men, called clerks, +dressed in black, with black cloaks. On the table, by the side of the +great parchment acts, lies a huge gilt sceptre, which is always taken +away, and placed in a conservatory under the table, as soon as ever the +Speaker quits the chair; which he does as often as the House resolves +itself into a committee. A committee means nothing more than that the +House puts itself into a situation freely to discuss and debate any point +of difficulty and moment, and, while it lasts, the Speaker partly lays +aside his power as a legislator. As soon as this is over, some one tells +the Speaker that he may now again be seated; and immediately on the +Speaker being again in the chair, the sceptre is also replaced on the +table before him. + +All round on the sides of the house, under the gallery, are benches for +the members, covered with green cloth, always one above the other, like +our choirs in churches, in order that he who is speaking may see over +those who sit before him. The seats in the gallery are on the same plan. +The members of parliament keep their hats on, but the spectators in the +gallery are uncovered. + +The members of the House of Commons have nothing particular in their +dress. They even come into the House in their great coats, and with +boots and spurs. It is not at all uncommon to see a member lying +stretched out on one of the benches while others are debating. Some +crack nuts, others eat oranges, or whatever else is in season. There is +no end to their going in and out; and as often as any one wishes to go +out, he places himself before the Speaker, and makes him his bow, as if, +like a schoolboy, he asked tutor’s permission. + +Those who speak seem to deliver themselves with but little, perhaps not +always with even a decorous, gravity. All that is necessary is to stand +up in your place, take off your hat, turn to the Speaker (to whom all the +speeches are addressed), to hold your hat and stick in one hand, and with +the other to make any such motions as you fancy necessary to accompany +your speech. + +If it happens that a member rises who is but a bad speaker, or if what he +says is generally deemed not sufficiently interesting, so much noise is +made, and such bursts of laughter are raised, that the member who is +speaking can scarcely distinguish his own words. This must needs be a +distressing situation; and it seems then to be particularly laughable, +when the Speaker in his chair, like a tutor in a school, again and again +endeavours to restore order, which he does by calling out “_To order_, +_to order_,” apparently often without much attention being paid to it. + +On the contrary, when a favourite member, and one who speaks well and to +the purpose, rises, the most perfect silence reigns, and his friends and +admirers, one after another, make their approbation known by calling out, +“_Hear him_,” which is often repeated by the whole House at once; and in +this way so much noise is often made that the speaker is frequently +interrupted by this same emphatic “_Hear him_.” Notwithstanding which, +this calling out is always regarded as a great encouragement; and I have +often observed that one who began with some diffidence, and even somewhat +inauspiciously, has in the end been so animated that he has spoken with a +torrent of eloquence. + +As all speeches are directed to the Speaker, all the members always +preface their speeches with “_Sir_” and he, on being thus addressed, +generally moves his hat a little, but immediately puts it on again. This +“_Sir_” is often introduced in the course of their speeches, and serves +to connect what is said. It seems also to stand the orator in some stead +when any one’s memory fails him, or he is otherwise at a loss for matter. +For while he is saying “_Sir_,” and has thus obtained a little pause, he +recollects what is to follow. Yet I have sometimes seen some members +draw a kind of memorandum-book out of their pockets, like a candidate who +is at a loss in his sermon. This is the only instance in which a member +of the British parliament seems to read his speeches. + +The first day that I was at the House of Commons an English gentleman who +sat next to me in the gallery very obligingly pointed out to me the +principal members, such as Fox, Burke, Rigby, etc., all of whom I heard +speak. The debate happened to be whether, besides being made a peer, any +other specific reward should be bestowed by the nation on their gallant +admiral Rodney. In the course of the debate, I remember, Mr. Fox was +very sharply reprimanded by young Lord Fielding for having, when +minister, opposed the election of Admiral Hood as a member for +Westminster. + +Fox was sitting to the right of the Speaker, not far from the table on +which the gilt sceptre lay. He now took his place so near it that he +could reach it with his hand, and, thus placed, he gave it many a violent +and hearty thump, either to aid, or to show the energy with which he +spoke. If the charge was vehement, his defence was no less so. He +justified himself against Lord Fielding by maintaining that he had not +opposed this election in the character of a minister, but as an +individual, or private person; and that, as such, he had freely and +honestly given his vote for another—namely, for Sir Cecil Wray, adding +that the King, when he appointed him Secretary of State, had entered into +no agreement with him by which he lost his vote as an individual; to such +a requisition he never would have submitted. It is impossible for me to +describe with what fire and persuasive eloquence he spoke, and how the +Speaker in the chair incessantly nodded approbation from beneath his +solemn wig, and innumerable voices incessantly called out, “Hear him! +hear him!” and when there was the least sign that he intended to leave +off speaking they no less vociferously exclaimed, “Go on;” and so he +continued to speak in this manner for nearly two hours. Mr. Rigby, in +reply, made a short but humorous speech, in which he mentioned of how +little consequence the title of “lord” and “lady” was without money to +support it, and finished with the Latin proverb, “infelix paupertas—quia +ridiculos miseros facit.” After having first very judiciously observed +that previous inquiry should be made whether Admiral Rodney had made any +rich prizes or captures; because, if that should be the case, he would +not stand in need of further reward in money. I have since been almost +every day at the parliament house, and prefer the entertainment I there +meet with to most other amusements. + +Fox is still much beloved by the people, notwithstanding that they are +(and certainly with good reason) displeased at his being the cause of +Admiral Rodney’s recall, though even I have heard him again and again +almost extravagant in his encomiums on this noble admiral. The same +celebrated Charles Fox is a short, fat, and gross man, with a swarthy +complexion, and dark; and in general he is badly dressed. There +certainly is something Jewish in his looks. But upon the whole, he is +not an ill-made nor an ill-looking man, and there are many strong marks +of sagacity and fire in his eyes. I have frequently heard the people +here say that this same Mr. Fox is as cunning as a fox. Burke is a +well-made, tall, upright man, but looks elderly and broken. Rigby is +excessively corpulent, and has a jolly rubicund face. + +The little less than downright open abuse, and the many really rude +things which the members said to each other, struck me much. For +example, when one has finished, another rises, and immediately taxes with +absurdity all that the right honourable gentleman (for with this title +the members of the House of Commons always honour each other) had just +advanced. It would, indeed, be contrary to the rules of the House flatly +to tell each other that what they have spoken is _false_, or even +_foolish_. Instead of this, they turn themselves, as usual, to the +Speaker, and so, whilst their address is directed to him, they fancy they +violate neither the rules of parliament nor those of good breeding and +decorum, whilst they utter the most cutting personal sarcasms against the +member or the measure they oppose. + +It is quite laughable to see, as one sometimes does, one member speaking, +and another accompanying the speech with his action. This I remarked +more than once in a worthy old citizen, who was fearful of speaking +himself, but when his neighbour spoke he accompanied every energetic +sentence with a suitable gesticulation, by which means his whole body was +sometimes in motion. + +It often happens that the jett, or principal point in the debate is lost +in these personal contests and bickerings between each other. When they +last so long as to become quite tedious and tiresome, and likely to do +harm rather than good, the House takes upon itself to express its +disapprobation; and then there arises a general cry of, “The question! +the question!” This must sometimes be frequently repeated, as the +contending members are both anxious to have the last word. At length, +however, the question is put, and the votes taken, when the Speaker says, +“Those who are for the question are to say _aye_, and those who are +against it _no_.” You then hear a confused cry of “_aye_” and “_no_” but +at length the Speaker says, “I think there are more _ayes_ than _noes_, +or more _noes_ than _ayes_. The _ayes_ have it; or the _noes_ have it,” +as the case may be. But all the spectators must then retire from the +gallery; for then, and not till then, the voting really commences. And +now the members call aloud to the gallery, “Withdraw! withdraw!” On this +the strangers withdraw, and are shut up in a small room at the foot of +the stairs till the voting is over, when they are again permitted to take +their places in the gallery. Here I could not help wondering at the +impatience even of polished Englishmen. It is astonishing with what +violence, and even rudeness, they push and jostle one another as soon as +the room door is again opened, eager to gain the first and best seats in +the gallery. In this manner we (the strangers) have sometimes been sent +away two or three times in the course of one day, or rather evening, +afterwards again permitted to return. Among these spectators are people +of all ranks, and even, not unfrequently, ladies. Two shorthand writers +have sat sometimes not far distant from me, who (though it is rather by +stealth) endeavour to take down the words of the speaker; and thus all +that is very remarkable in what is said in parliament may generally be +read in print the next day. The shorthand writers, whom I noticed, are +supposed to be employed and paid by the editors of the different +newspapers. There are, it seems, some few persons who are constant +attendants on the parliament; and so they pay the door-keeper beforehand +a guinea for a whole session. I have now and then seen some of the +members bring their sons, whilst quite little boys, and carry them to +their seats along with themselves. + +A proposal was once made to erect a gallery in the House of Peers also +for the accommodation of spectators. But this never was carried into +effect. There appears to be much more politeness and more courteous +behaviour in the members of the upper House. But he who wishes to +observe mankind, and to contemplate the leading traits of the different +characters most strongly marked, will do well to attend frequently the +lower, rather than the other, House. + +Last Tuesday was (what is here called) hanging-day. There was also a +parliamentary election. I could only see one of the two sights, and +therefore naturally preferred the latter, while I only heard tolling at a +distance the death-bell of the sacrifice to justice. I now, therefore, +am going to describe to you, as well as can, an + + _Election for a Member of Parliament_. + +The cities of London and Westminster send, the one four, and the other +two, members to parliament. Mr. Fox is one of the two members for +Westminster. One seat was vacant, and that vacancy was now to be filled. +And the same Sir Cecil Wray, whom Fox had before opposed to Lord Hood, +was now publicly chosen. They tell me that at these elections, when +there is a strong opposition party, there is often bloody work; but this +election was, in the electioneering phrase, a “hollow thing”—_i.e._ quite +sure, as those who had voted for Admiral Hood now withdrew, without +standing a poll, as being convinced beforehand their chance to succeed +was desperate. + +The election was held in Covent Garden, a large market-place in the open +air. There was a scaffold erected just before the door of a very +handsome church, which is also called St. Paul’s, but which, however, is +not to be compared to the cathedral. + +A temporary edifice, formed only of boards and wood nailed together, was +erected on the occasion. It was called the hustings, and filled with +benches; and at one end of it, where the benches ended, mats were laid, +on which those who spoke to the people stood. In the area before the +hustings immense multitudes of people were assembled, of whom the +greatest part seemed to be of the lowest order. To this tumultuous +crowd, however, the speakers often bowed very low, and always addressed +them by the title of “gentlemen.” Sir Cecil Wray was obliged to step +forward and promise these same gentlemen, with hand and heart, that he +would faithfully fulfil his duties as their representative. He also made +an apology because, on account of his long journey and ill-health, he had +not been able to wait on them, as became him, at their respective houses. +The moment that he began to speak, even this rude rabble became all as +quiet as the raging sea after a storm, only every now and then rending +the air with the parliamentary cry of “Hear him! hear him!” and as soon +as he had done speaking, they again vociferated aloud an universal +“_huzza_,” every one at the same time waving his hat. + +And now, being formally declared to have been legally chosen, he again +bowed most profoundly, and returned thanks for the great honour done him, +when a well-dressed man, whose name I could not learn, stepped forward, +and in a well-indited speech congratulated both the chosen and the +choosers. “Upon my word,” said a gruff carter who stood near me, “that +man speaks well.” + +Even little boys clambered up and hung on the rails and on the +lamp-posts; and as if the speeches had also been addressed to them, they +too listened with the utmost attention, and they too testified their +approbation of it by joining lustily in the three cheers and waving their +hats. + +All the enthusiasm of my earliest years kindled by the patriotism of the +illustrious heroes of Rome. Coriolanus, Julius Cæsar, and Antony were +now revived in my mind; and though all I had just seen and heard be, in +fact, but the semblance of liberty, and that, too, tribunitial liberty, +yet at that moment I thought it charming, and it warmed my heart. Yes, +depend on it, my friend, when you here see how, in the happy country, the +lowest and meanest member of society thus unequivocally testifies the +interest which he takes in everything of a public nature; when you see +how even women and children bear a part in the great concerns of their +country; in short, how high and low, rich and poor, all concur in +declaring their feelings and their convictions that a carter, a common +tar, or a scavenger, is still a man—nay, an Englishman, and as such has +his rights and privileges defined and known as exactly and as well as his +king, or as his king’s minister—take my word for it, you will feel +yourself very differently affected from what you are when staring at our +soldiers in their exercises at Berlin. + +When Fox, who was among the voters, arrived at the beginning of the +election, he too was received with an universal shout of joy. At length, +when it was nearly over, the people took it into their heads to hear him +speak, and every one called out, “Fox! Fox!” I know not why, but I +seemed to catch some of the spirit of the place and time, and so I also +bawled “Fox! Fox!” and he was obliged to come forward and speak, for no +other reason that I could find but that the people wished to hear him +speak. In this speech he again confirmed, in the presence of the people, +his former declaration in parliament, that he by no means had any +influence as minister of State in this election, but only and merely as a +private person. + +When the whole was over, the rampant spirit of liberty and the wild +impatience of a genuine English mob were exhibited in perfection. In a +very few minutes the whole scaffolding, benches, and chairs, and +everything else, was completely destroyed, and the mat with which it had +been covered torn into ten thousand long strips, or pieces, or strings, +with which they encircled or enclosed multitudes of people of all ranks. +These they hurried along with them, and everything else that came in +their way, as trophies of joy; and thus, in the midst of exultation and +triumph, they paraded through many of the most populous streets of +London. + +Whilst in Prussia poets only speak of the love of country as one of the +dearest of all human affections, here there is no man who does not feel, +and describe with rapture, how much he loves his country. “Yes, for my +country I’ll shed the last drop of my blood!” often exclaims little +Jacky, the fine boy here in the house where I live, who is yet only about +twelve years old. The love of their country, and its unparalleled feats +in war are, in general, the subject of their ballads and popular songs, +which are sung about the streets by women, who sell them for a few +farthings. It was only the other day our Jacky brought one home, in +which the history of an admiral was celebrated who bravely continued to +command, even after his two legs were shot off and he was obliged to be +supported. I know not well by what means it has happened that the King +of England, who is certainly one of the best the nation ever had, is +become unpopular. I know not how many times I have heard people of all +sorts object to their king at the same time that they praised the King of +Prussia to the skies. Indeed, with some the veneration for our monarch +went so far that they seriously wished he was their king. All that seems +to shock and dishearten them is the prodigious armies he keeps up, and +the immense number of soldiers quartered in Berlin alone. Whereas in +London, at least in the city, not a single troop of soldiers of the +King’s guard dare make their appearance. + +A few days ago I saw what is here deemed a great sight—viz., a lord +mayor’s procession. The lord mayor was in an enormous large gilt coach, +which was followed by an astonishing number of most showy carriages, in +which the rest of the city magistrates, more properly called aldermen of +London, were seated. But enough for the present. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + _London_, _June_ 17_th_, 1782. + +I HAVE now been pretty nearly all over London, and, according to my own +notions, have now seen most of the things I was most anxious to see. +Hereafter, then, I propose to make an excursion into the country; and +this purpose, by the blessing of God, I hope to be able to carry into +effect in a very few days, for my curiosity is here almost satiated. I +seem to be tired and sick of the smoke of these sea-coal fires, and I +long, with almost childish impatience, once more to breathe a fresher and +clearer air. + +It must, I think, be owned, that upon the whole, London is neither so +handsomely nor so well built as Berlin is; but then it certainly has far +more fine squares. Of these there are many that in real magnificence and +beautiful symmetry far surpass our Gens d’Armes Markt, our Denhoschen and +William’s Place. The squares or quadrangular places contain the best and +most beautiful buildings of London; a spacious street, next to the +houses, goes all round them, and within that there is generally a round +grass-plot, railed in with iron rails, in the centre of which, in many of +them, there is a statue, which statues most commonly are equestrian and +gilt. In Grosvenor Square, instead of this green plot or area, there is +a little circular wood, intended, no doubt, to give one the idea of _rus +in urbe_. + +One of the longest and pleasantest walks I have yet taken is from +Paddington to Islington; where to the left you have a fine prospect of +the neighbouring hills, and in particular of the village of Hampstead, +which is built on one of them; and to the right the streets of London +furnish an endless variety of interesting views. It is true that it is +dangerous to walk here alone, especially in the afternoon and in an +evening, or at night, for it was only last week that a man was robbed and +murdered on this very same road. But I now hasten to another and a more +pleasing topic: + + _The British Museum_. + +I have had the happiness to become acquainted with the Rev. Mr. Woide; +who, though well known all over Europe to be one of the most learned men +of the age, is yet, if possible, less estimable for his learning than he +is for his unaffected goodness of heart. He holds a respectable office +in the museum, and was obliging enough to procure me permission to see +it, luckily the day before it was shut up. In general you must give in +your name a fortnight before you can he admitted. But after all, I am +sorry to say, it was the rooms, the glass cases, the shelves, or the +repository for the books in the British Museum which I saw, and not the +museum itself, we were hurried on so rapidly through the apartments. The +company, who saw it when and as I did, was various, and some of all +sorts; some, I believe, of the very lowest classes of the people, of both +sexes; for, as it is the property of the nation, every one has the same +right (I use the term of the country) to see it that another has. I had +Mr. Wendeborn’s book in my pocket, and it, at least, enabled me to take a +somewhat more particular notice of some of the principal things; such as +the Egyptian mummy, a head of Homer, &c. The rest of the company, +observing that I had some assistance which they had not, soon gathered +round me; I pointed out to them as we went along, from Mr. Wendeborn’s +German book, what there was most worth seeing here. The gentleman who +conducted us took little pains to conceal the contempt which he felt for +my communications when he found out that it was only a German description +of the British Museum I had got. The rapidly passing through this vast +suite of rooms, in a space of time little, if at all, exceeding an hour, +with leisure just to cast one poor longing look of astonishment on all +these stupendous treasures of natural curiosities, antiquities, and +literature, in the contemplation of which you could with pleasure spend +years, and a whole life might be employed in the study of them—quite +confuses, stuns, and overpowers one. In some branches this collection is +said to be far surpassed by some others; but taken altogether, and for +size, it certainly is equalled by none. The few foreign divines who +travel through England generally desire to have the Alexandrian +manuscript shewn them, in order to be convinced with their own eyes +whether the passage, “These are the three that bear record, &c.,” is to +be found there or not. + +The Rev. Mr. Woide lives at a place called Lisson Street, not far from +Paddington; a very village-looking little town, at the west end of +London. It is quite a rural and pleasant situation; for here I either +do, or fancy I do, already breathe a purer and freer air than in the +midst of the town. Of his great abilities, and particularly in oriental +literature, I need not inform you; but it will give you pleasure to hear +that he is actually meditating a fac-simile edition of the Alexandrian +MS. I have already mentioned the infinite obligations I lie under to +this excellent man for his extraordinary courtesy and kindness. + + _The Theatre in the Haymarket_. + +Last week I went twice to an English play-house. The first time “The +Nabob” was represented, of which the late Mr. Foote was the author, and +for the entertainment, a very pleasing and laughable musical farce, +called “The Agreeable Surprise.” The second time I saw “The English +Merchant:” which piece has been translated into German, and is known +among us by the title of “The Scotchwoman,” or “The Coffee-house.” I +have not yet seen the theatres of Covent Garden and Drury Lane, because +they are not open in summer. The best actors also usually spend May and +October in the country, and only perform in winter. + +A very few excepted, the comedians whom I saw were certainly nothing +extraordinary. For a seat in the boxes you pay five shillings, in the +pit three, in the first gallery two, and in the second or upper gallery, +one shilling. And it is the tenants in this upper gallery who, for their +shilling, make all that noise and uproar for which the English +play-houses are so famous. I was in the pit, which gradually rises, +amphitheatre-wise, from the orchestra, and is furnished with benches, one +above another, from the top to the bottom. Often and often, whilst I sat +there, did a rotten orange, or pieces of the peel of an orange, fly past +me, or past some of my neighbours, and once one of them actually hit my +hat, without my daring to look round, for fear another might then hit me +on my face. + +All over London as one walks, one everywhere, in the season, sees oranges +to sell; and they are in general sold tolerably cheap, one and even +sometimes two for a halfpenny; or, in our money, threepence. At the +play-house, however, they charged me sixpence for one orange, and that +noways remarkably good. + +Besides this perpetual pelting from the gallery, which renders an English +play-house so uncomfortable, there is no end to their calling out and +knocking with their sticks till the curtain is drawn up. I saw a +miller’s, or a baker’s boy, thus, like a huge booby, leaning over the +rails and knocking again and again on the outside, with all his might, so +that he was seen by everybody, without being in the least ashamed or +abashed. I sometimes heard, too, the people in the lower or middle +gallery quarrelling with those of the upper one. Behind me, in the pit, +sat a young fop, who, in order to display his costly stone buckles with +the utmost brilliancy, continually put his foot on my bench, and even +sometimes upon my coat, which I could avoid only by sparing him as much +space from my portion of the seat as would make him a footstool. In the +boxes, quite in a corner, sat several servants, who were said to be +placed there to keep the seats for the families they served till they +should arrive; they seemed to sit remarkably close and still, the reason +of which, I was told, was their apprehension of being pelted; for if one +of them dares but to look out of the box, he is immediately saluted with +a shower of orange peel from the gallery. + +In Foote’s “Nabob” there are sundry local and personal satires which are +entirely lost to a foreigner. The character of the Nabob was performed +by a Mr. Palmer. The jett of the character is, this Nabob, with many +affected airs and constant aims at gentility, is still but a silly +fellow, unexpectedly come into the possession of immense riches, and +therefore, of course, paid much court to by a society of natural +philosophers, Quakers, and I do not know who besides. Being tempted to +become one of their members, he is elected, and in order to ridicule +these would-be philosophers, but real knaves, a fine flowery fustian +speech is put into his mouth, which he delivers with prodigious pomp and +importance, and is listened to by the philosophers with infinite +complacency. The two scenes of the Quakers and philosophers, who, with +countenances full of imaginary importance, were seated at a green table +with their president at their head while the secretary, with the utmost +care, was making an inventory of the ridiculous presents of the Nabob, +were truly laughable. One of the last scenes was best received: it is +that in which the Nabob’s friend and school-fellow visit him, and address +him without ceremony by his Christian name; but to all their questions of +“Whether he does not recollect them? Whether he does not remember such +and such a play; or such and such a scrape into which they had fallen in +their youth?” he uniformly answers with a look of ineffable contempt, +only, “No sir!” Nothing can possibly be more ludicrous, nor more comic. + +The entertainment, “The Agreeable Surprise,” is really a very diverting +farce. I observed that, in England also, they represent school-masters +in ridiculous characters on the stage, which, though I am sorry for, I +own I do not wonder at, as the pedantry of school-masters in England, +they tell me, is carried at least as far as it is elsewhere. The same +person who, in the play, performed the school-fellow of the Nabob with a +great deal of nature and original humour, here acted the part of the +school-master: his name is Edwin, and he is, without doubt, one of the +best actors of all that I have seen. + +This school-master is in love with a certain country girl, whose name is +Cowslip, to whom he makes a declaration of his passion in a strange +mythological, grammatical style and manner, and to whom, among other +fooleries, he sings, quite enraptured, the following air, and seems to +work himself at least up to such a transport of passion as quite +overpowers him. He begins, you will observe, with the conjugation, and +ends with the declensions and the genders; the whole is inimitably droll: + + “Amo, amas, + I love a lass, + She is so sweet and tender, + It is sweet Cowslip’s Grace + In the Nominative Case. + And in the feminine Gender.” + +Those two sentences in particular, “in the Nominative Case,” and “in the +feminine Gender,” he affects to sing in a particularly languishing air, +as if confident that it was irresistible. This Edwin, in all his comic +characters, still preserves something so inexpressibly good-tempered in +his countenance, that notwithstanding all his burlesques and even +grotesque buffoonery, you cannot but be pleased with him. I own, I felt +myself doubly interested for every character which he represented. +Nothing could equal the tone and countenance of self-satisfaction with +which he answered one who asked him whether he was a scholar? “Why, I +was a master of scholars.” A Mrs. Webb represented a cheesemonger, and +played the part of a woman of the lower class so naturally as I have +nowhere else ever seen equalled. Her huge, fat, and lusty carcase, and +the whole of her external appearance seemed quite to be cut out for it. + +Poor Edwin was obliged, as school-master, to sing himself almost hoarse, +as he sometimes was called on to repeat his declension and conjugation +songs two or three times, only because it pleased the upper gallery, or +“the gods,” as the English call them, to roar out “encore.” Add to all +this, he was farther forced to thank them with a low bow for the great +honour done him by their applause. + +One of the highest comic touches in the piece seemed to me to consist in +a lie, which always became more and more enormous in the mouths of those +who told it again, during the whole of the piece. This kept the audience +in almost a continual fit of laughter. This farce is not yet printed, or +I really think I should be tempted to venture to make a translation, or +rather an imitation of it. + +“The English Merchant, or the Scotchwoman,” I have seen much better +performed abroad than it was here. Mr. Fleck, at Hamburg, in particular, +played the part of the English merchant with more interest, truth, and +propriety than one Aickin did here. He seemed to me to fail totally in +expressing the peculiar and original character of Freeport; instead of +which, by his measured step and deliberate, affected manner of speaking, +he converted him into a mere fine gentleman. + +The trusty old servant who wishes to give up his life for his master he, +too, had the stately walk, or strut, of a minister. The character of the +newspaper writer was performed by the same Mr. Palmer who acted the part +of the Nabob, but every one said, what I thought, that he made him far +too much of a gentleman. His person, and his dress also, were too +handsome for the character. + +The character of Amelia was performed by an actress, who made her first +appearance on the stage, and from a timidity natural on such an occasion, +and not unbecoming, spoke rather low, so that she could not everywhere be +heard; “Speak louder! speak louder!” cried out some rude fellow from the +upper-gallery, and she immediately, with infinite condescension, did all +she could, and not unsuccessfully, to please even an upper gallery +critic. + +The persons near me, in the pit, were often extravagantly lavish of their +applause. They sometimes clapped a single solitary sentiment, that was +almost as unmeaning as it was short, if it happened to be pronounced only +with some little emphasis, or to contain some little point, some popular +doctrine, a singularly pathetic stroke, or turn of wit. + +“The Agreeable Surprise” was repeated, and I saw it a second time with +unabated pleasure. It is become a favourite piece, and always announced +with the addition of the favourite musical farce. The theatre appeared +to me somewhat larger than the one at Hamburg, and the house was both +times very full. Thus much for English plays, play-houses, and players. + + _English Customs and Education_. + +A few words more respecting pedantry. I have seen the regulation of one +seminary of learning, here called an academy. Of these places of +education, there is a prodigious number in London, though, +notwithstanding their pompous names, they are in reality nothing more +than small schools set up by private persons, for children and young +people. + +One of the Englishmen who were my travelling companions, made me +acquainted with a Dr. G— who lives near P—, and keeps an academy for the +education of twelve young people, which number is here, as well as at our +Mr. Kumpe’s, never exceeded, and the same plan has been adopted and +followed by many others, both here and elsewhere. + +At the entrance I perceived over the door of the house a large board, and +written on it, Dr. G—’s Academy. Dr. G— received me with great courtesy +as a foreigner, and shewed me his school-room, which was furnished just +in the same manner as the classes in our public schools are, with benches +and a professor’s chair or pulpit. + +The usher at Dr. G—’s is a young clergyman, who, seated also in a chair +or desk, instructs the boys in the Greek and Latin grammars. + +Such an under-teacher is called an usher, and by what I can learn, is +commonly a tormented being, exactly answering the exquisite description +given of him in the “Vicar of Wakefield.” We went in during the hours of +attendance, and he was just hearing the boys decline their Latin, which +he did in the old jog-trot way; and I own it had an odd sound to my ears, +when instead of pronouncing, for example _viri veeree_ I heard them say +_viri_, _of the man_, exactly according to the English pronunciation, and +_viro_, _to the man_. The case was just the same afterwards with the +Greek. + +Mr. G— invited us to dinner, when I became acquainted with his wife, a +very genteel young woman, whose behaviour to the children was such that +she might be said to contribute more to their education than any one +else. The children drank nothing but water. For every boarder Dr. G— +receives yearly no more than thirty pounds sterling, which however, he +complained of as being too little. From forty to fifty pounds is the +most that is generally paid in these academies. + +I told him of our improvements in the manner of education, and also spoke +to him of the apparent great worth of character of his usher. He +listened very attentively, but seemed to have thought little himself on +this subject. Before and after dinner the Lord’s Prayer was repeated in +French, which is done in several places, as if they were eager not to +waste without some improvement, even this opportunity also, to practise +the French, and thus at once accomplish two points. I afterwards told +him my opinion of this species of prayer, which however, he did not take +amiss. + +After dinner the boys had leave to play in a very small yard, which in +most schools or academies, in the city of London, is the _ne plus ultra_ +of their playground in their hours of recreation. But Mr. G— has another +garden at the end of the town, where he sometimes takes them to walk. + +After dinner Mr. G— himself instructed the children in writing, +arithmetic, and French, all which seemed to be well taught here, +especially writing, in which the young people in England far surpass, I +believe, all others. This may perhaps be owing to their having occasion +to learn only one sort of letters. As the midsummer holidays were now +approaching (at which time the children in all the academies go home for +four weeks), everyone was obliged with the utmost care to copy a written +model, in order to show it to their parents, because this article is most +particularly examined, as everybody can tell what is or is not good +writing. The boys knew all the rules of syntax by heart. + +All these academies are in general called boarding-schools. Some few +retain the old name of schools only, though it is possible that in real +merit they may excel the so much-boasted of academies. + +It is in general the clergy, who have small incomes, who set up these +schools both in town and country, and grown up people who are foreigners, +are also admitted here to learn the English language. Mr. G— charged for +board, lodging, and instruction in the English, two guineas a-week. He +however, who is desirous of perfecting himself in the English, will do +better to go some distance into the country, and board himself with any +clergyman who takes scholars, where he will hear nothing but English +spoken, and may at every opportunity be taught both by young and old. + +There are in England, besides the two universities, but few great schools +or colleges. In London, there are only St. Paul’s and Westminster +schools; the rest are almost all private institutions, in which there +reigns a kind of family education, which is certainly the most natural, +if properly conducted. Some few grammar schools, or Latin schools, are +notwithstanding here and there to be met with, where the master receives +a fixed salary, besides the ordinary profits of the school paid by the +scholars. + +You see in the streets of London, great and little boys running about in +long blue coats, which, like robes, reach quite down to the feet, and +little white bands, such as the clergy wear. These belong to a +charitable institution, or school, which hears the name of the Blue Coat +School. The singing of the choristers in the streets, so usual with us, +is not at all customary here. Indeed, there is in England, or at least +in London, such a constant walking, riding, and driving up and down in +the streets, that it would not be very practicable. Parents here in +general, nay even those of the lowest classes, seem to be kind and +indulgent to their children, and do not, like our common people, break +their spirits too much by blows and sharp language. Children should +certainly be inured early to set a proper value on themselves; whereas +with us, parents of the lower class bring up their children to the same +slavery under which they themselves groan. + +Notwithstanding the constant new appetites and calls of fashion, they +here remain faithful to nature—till a certain age. What a contrast, when +I figure to myself our petted, pale-faced Berlin boys, at six years old, +with a large bag, and all the parade of grown-up persons, nay even with +laced coats; and here, on the contrary see nothing but fine, ruddy, slim, +active boys, with their bosoms open, and their hair cut on their +forehead, whilst behind it flows naturally in ringlets. It is something +uncommon here to meet a young man, and more especially a boy, with a pale +or sallow face, with deformed features, or disproportioned limbs. With +us, alas! it is not to be concealed, the case is very much otherwise; if +it were not, handsome people would hardly strike us so very much as they +do in this country. + +This free, loose, and natural dress is worn till they are eighteen, or +even till they are twenty. It is then, indeed, discontinued by the +higher ranks, but with the common people it always remains the same. +They then begin to have their hair dressed, and curled with irons, to +give the head a large bushy appearance, and half their backs are covered +with powder. I am obliged to remain still longer under the hands of an +English, than I was under a German hair-dresser; and to sweat under his +hot irons with which he curls my hair all over, in order that I may +appear among Englishmen, somewhat English. I must here observe that the +English hair-dressers are also barbers, an office however, which they +perform very badly indeed; though I cannot but consider shaving as a far +more proper employment for these petit maîtres than it is for surgeons, +who you know in our country are obliged to shave us. It is incredible +how much the English at present Frenchify themselves; the only things yet +wanting are bags and swords, with which at least I have seen no one +walking publicly, but I am told they are worn at court. + +In the morning it is usual to walk out in a sort of negligée or morning +dress, your hair not dressed, but merely rolled up in rollers, and in a +frock and boots. In Westminster, the morning lasts till four or five +o’clock, at which time they dine, and supper and going to bed are +regulated accordingly. They generally do not breakfast till ten o’clock. +The farther you go from the court into the city, the more regular and +domestic the people become; and there they generally dine about three +o’clock, _i.e._ as soon as the business or ‘Change is over. + +Trimmed suits are not yet worn, and the most usual dress is in summer, a +short white waistcoat, black breeches, white silk stockings, and a frock, +generally of very dark blue cloth, which looks like black; and the +English seem in general to prefer dark colours. If you wish to be full +dressed, you wear black. Officers rarely wear their uniforms, but dress +like other people, and are to be known to be officers only by a cockade +in their hats. + +It is a common observation, that the more solicitous any people are about +dress, the more effeminate they are. I attribute it entirely to this +idle adventitious passion for finery, that these people are become so +over and above careful of their persons; they are for ever, and on every +occasion, putting one another on their guard against catching cold; +“you’ll certainly catch cold,” they always tell you if you happen to be a +little exposed to the draught of the air, or if you be not clad, as they +think, sufficiently warm. The general topic of conversation in summer, +is on the important objects of whether such and such an acquaintance be +in town, or such a one in the country. Far from blaming it, I think it +natural and commendable, that nearly one half of the inhabitants of this +great city migrate into the country in summer. And into the country, I +too, though not a Londoner, hope soon to wander. + +Electricity happens at present to be the puppet-show of the English. +Whoever at all understands electricity is sure of being noticed and +successful. This a certain Mr. Katterfelto experiences, who gives +himself out for a Prussian, speaks bad English, and understands beside +the usual electrical and philosophical experiments, some legerdemain +tricks, with which (at least according to the papers) he sets the whole +world in wonder. For in almost every newspaper that appears, there are +some verses on the great Katterfelto, which some one or other of his +hearers are said to have made extempore. Every sensible person considers +Katterfelto as a puppy, an ignoramus, a braggadocio, and an impostor; +notwithstanding which he has a number of followers. He has demonstrated +to the people, that the influenza is occasioned by a small kind of +insect, which poisons the air; and a nostrum, which he pretends to have +found out to prevent or destroy it, is eagerly bought of him. A few days +ago he put into the papers: “It is true that Mr. Katterfelto has always +wished for cold and rainy weather, in order to destroy the pernicious +insects in the air; but now, on the contrary, he wishes for nothing more +than for fair weather, as his majesty and the whole royal family have +determined, the first fine day, to be eye-witnesses of the great wonder, +which this learned philosopher will render visible to them.” Yet all +this while the royal family have not so much as even thought of seeing +the wonders of Mr. Katterfelto. This kind of rhodomontade is very finely +expressed in English by the word puff, which in its literal sense, +signifies a blowing, or violent gust of wind, and in the metaphorical +sense, a boasting or bragging. + +Of such puffs the English newspapers are daily full, particularly of +quack medicines and empirics, by means of which many a one here (and +among others a German who goes by the name of the German doctor) are +become rich. An advertisement of a lottery in the papers begins with +capitals in this manner,—“Ten Thousand Pounds for a Sixpence! Yes, +however astonishing it may seem, it is nevertheless undoubtedly true, +that for the small stake of sixpence, ten thousand pounds, and other +capital prizes, may be won, etc.”—But enough for this time of the puffs +of the English. + +I yesterday dined with the Rev. Mr. Schrader, son-in-law to Professor +Foster of Halle. He is chaplain to the German chapel at St. James’s; but +besides himself he has a colleague or a reader, who is also in orders, +but has only fifty pounds yearly salary. Mr. Schrader also instructs the +younger princes and princesses of the royal family in their religion. At +his house I saw the two chaplains, Mr. Lindeman and Mr. Kritter, who went +with the Hanoverian troops to Minorca, and who were returned with the +garrison. They were exposed to every danger along with the troops. The +German clergy, as well as every other person in any public station +immediately under Government, are obliged to pay a considerable tax out +of their salaries. + +The English clergy (and I fear those still more particularly who live in +London) are noticeable, and lamentably conspicuous, by a very free, +secular, and irregular way of life. Since my residence in England, one +has fought a duel in Hyde Park, and shot his antagonist. He was tried +for the offence, and it was evident the judge thought him guilty of +murder; but the jury declared him guilty only of manslaughter; and on +this verdict he was burnt in the hand, if that may be called burning +which is done with a cold iron; this being a privilege which the nobility +and clergy enjoy above other murderers. + +Yesterday week, after I had preached for Mr. Wendeborne, we passed an +English church in which, we understood the sermon was not yet quite +finished. On this we went in, and then I heard a young man preaching, +with a tolerable good voice, and a proper delivery; but, like the English +in general, his manner was unimpassioned, and his tone monotonous. From +the church we went to a coffee-house opposite to it, and there we dined. +We had not been long there before the same clergyman whom we had just +heard preaching, also came in. He called for pen and ink, and hastily +wrote down a few pages on a long sheet of paper, which he put into his +pocket; I suppose it was some rough sketch or memorandum that occurred to +him at that moment, and which he thus reserved for some future sermon. +He too ordered some dinner, which he had no sooner ate, than he returned +immediately to the same church. We followed him, and he again mounted +the pulpit, where he drew from his pocket a written paper, or book of +notes, and delivered in all probability those very words which he had +just before composed in our presence at the coffee-house. + +In these coffee-houses, however, there generally prevails a very decorous +stillness and silence. Everyone speaks softly to those only who sit next +him. The greater part read the newspapers, and no one ever disturbs +another. The room is commonly on the ground floor, and you enter it +immediately from the street; the seats are divided by wooden wainscot +partitions. Many letters and projects are here written and planned, and +many of those that you find in the papers are dated from some of these +coffee-houses. There is, therefore, nothing incredible, nor very +extraordinary, in a person’s composing a sermon here, excepting that one +would imagine it might have been done better at home, and certainly +should not have thus been put off to the last minute. + +Another long walk that I have taken pretty often, is through Hanover +Square and Cavendish Square, to Bulstrode Street, near Paddington, where +the Danish ambassador lives, and where I have often visited the Danish +_Charge d’Affaires_, M. Schornborn. He is well known in Germany, as +having attempted to translate Pindar into German. Besides this, and +besides being known to be a man of genius, he is known to be a great +proficient in most of the branches of natural philosophy. I have spent +many very pleasant hours with him. + +Sublime poetry, and in particular odes, are his forte; there are indeed +few departments of learning in which he has not extensive knowledge, and +he is also well read in the Greek and Roman authors. Everything he +studies, he studies merely from the love he bears to the science itself, +and by no means for the love of fame. + +One could hardly help saying it is a pity that so excellent a man should +be so little known, were it not generally the case with men of +transcendent merit. But what makes him still more valuable is his pure +and open soul, and his amiable unaffected simplicity of character, which +has gained him the love and confidence of all who know him. He has +heretofore been secretary to the ambassador at Algiers; and even here in +London, when he is not occupied by the business arising from his public +station, he lives exceedingly retired, and devotes his time almost +entirely to the study of the sciences. The more agreeable I find such an +acquaintance, the harder it will be for me to lose, as I soon must, his +learned, his instructive, and his friendly conversation. + +I have seen the large Freemasons’ Hall here, at the tavern of the same +name. This hall is of an astonishing height and breadth, and to me it +looked almost like a church. The orchestra is very much raised, and from +that you have a fine view of the whole hall, which makes a majestic +appearance. The building is said to have cost an immense sum. But to +that the lodges in Germany also contributed. Freemasonry seems to be +held in but little estimation in England, perhaps because most of the +lodges are now degenerated into mere drinking clubs; though I hope there +still are some who assemble for nobler and more essential purposes. The +Duke of Cumberland is now grand master. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + _London_, 20_th_ _June_, 1782. + +AT length my determination of going into the country takes effect; and I +am to set off this very afternoon in a stage; so that I now write to you +my last letter from London, I mean till I return from my pilgrimage, for +as soon as ever I have got beyond the dangerous neighbourhood of London, +I shall certainly no longer suffer myself to be cooped up in a +post-coach, but take my staff and pursue my journey on foot. In the +meantime, however, I will relate to you what I may either have forgotten +to write before, or what I have seen worth notice within these few days +last past; among which the foremost is + + _St. Paul’s_. + +I must own that on my entrance into this massy building, an uncommon +vacancy, which seemed to reign in it, rather damped than raised an +impression of anything majestic in me. All around me I could see nothing +but immense bare walls and pillars. Above me, at an astonishing height, +was the vaulted stone roof; and beneath me a plain, flat even floor, +paved with marble. No altar was to be seen, or any other sign that this +was a place where mankind assembled to adore the Almighty. For the +church itself, or properly that part of it where they perform divine +service, seems as it were a piece stuck on or added to the main edifice, +and is separated from the large round empty space by an iron gate, or +door. Did the great architects who adopted this style of building mean +by this to say that such a temple is most proper for the adoration of the +Almighty? If this was their aim, I can only say I admire the great +temple of nature, the azure vaulted sky, and the green carpet with which +the earth is spread. This is truly a large temple; but then there is in +it no void, no spot unappropriated, or unfulfilled, but everywhere proofs +in abundance of the presence of the Almighty. If, however, mankind, in +their honest ambition to worship the great God of nature, in a style not +wholly unsuitable to the great object of their reverence, and in their +humble efforts at magnificence, aim in some degree to rival the +magnificence of nature, particular pains should be taken to hit on +something that might atone for the unavoidable loss of the animation and +ampleness of nature; something in short that should clearly indicate the +true and appropriated design and purpose of such a building. If, on the +other hand, I could be contented to consider St. Paul’s merely as a work +of art, built as if merely to show the amazing extent of human powers, I +should certainly gaze at it with admiration and astonishment, but then I +wish rather to contemplate it with awe and veneration. But, I perceive, +I am wandering out of my way. St. Paul’s is here, as it is, a noble +pile, and not unworthy of this great nation. And even if I were sure +that I could, you would hardly thank me for showing you how it might have +been still more worthy of this intelligent people. I make a conscience +however of telling you always, with fidelity, what impression everything +I see or hear makes on me at the time. For a small sum of money I was +conducted all over the church by a man whose office it seemed to be, and +he repeated to me, I dare say, exactly his lesson, which no doubt he has +perfectly got by rote: of how many feet long and broad it was; how many +years it was in building, and in what year built. Much of this rigmarole +story, which, like a parrot, he repeated mechanically, I could willingly +have dispensed with. In the part that was separated from the rest by the +iron gate above mentioned, was what I call the church itself; furnished +with benches, pews, pulpit, and an altar; and on each side seats for the +choristers, as there are in our cathedrals. This church seemed to have +been built purposely in such a way, that the bishop, or dean, or +dignitary, who should preach there, might not be obliged to strain his +voice too much. I was now conducted to that part which is called the +whispering gallery, which is a circumference of prodigious extent, just +below the cupola. Here I was directed to place myself in a part of it +directly opposite to my conductor, on the other side of the gallery, so +that we had the whole breadth of the church between us, and here as I +stood, he, knowing his cue no doubt, flung to the door with all his +force, which gave a sound that I could compare to nothing less than a +peal of thunder. I was next desired to apply my ear to the wall, which, +when I did, I heard the words of my conductor: “Can you hear me?” which +he softly whispered quite on the other side, as plain and as loud as one +commonly speaks to a deaf person. This scheme to condense and invigorate +sound at so great a distance is really wonderful. I once noticed some +sound of the same sort in the senatorial cellar at Bremen; but neither +that, nor I believe any other in the world, can pretend to come in +competition with this. + +I now ascended several steps to the great gallery, which runs on the +outside of the great dome, and here I remained nearly two hours, as I +could hardly, in less time, satisfy myself with the prospect of the +various interesting objects that lay all round me, and which can no where +be better seen, than from hence. + +Every view, and every object I studied attentively, by viewing them again +and again on every side, for I was anxious to make a lasting impression +of it on my imagination. + +Below me lay steeples, houses, and palaces in countless numbers; the +squares with their grass plots in their middle that lay agreeably +dispersed and intermixed, with all the huge clusters of buildings, +forming meanwhile a pleasing contrast, and a relief to the jaded eye. + +At one end rose the Tower—itself a city—with a wood of masts behind it; +and at the other Westminster Abbey with its steeples. There I beheld, +clad in smiles, those beautiful green hills that skirt the environs of +Paddington and Islington; here, on the opposite bank of the Thames, lay +Southwark; the city itself it seems to be impossible for any eye to take +in entirely, for with all my pains I found it impossible to ascertain +either where it ended, or where the circumjacent villages began; far as +the eye could reach, it seemed to be all one continued chain of +buildings. + +I well remember how large I thought Berlin when first I saw it from the +steeple of St. Mary, and from the Temple Yard Hills, but how did it now +sink and fall in my imagination, when I compared it with London! + +It is, however, idle and vain to attempt giving you in words, any +description, however faint and imperfect, of such a prospect as I have +just been viewing. He who wishes at one view to see a world in +miniature, must come to the dome of St Paul’s. + +The roof of St. Paul’s itself with its two lesser steeples lay below me, +and as I fancied, looked something like the background of a small ridge +of hills, which you look down upon when you have attained the summit of +some huge rock or mountain. I should gladly have remained here sometime +longer, but a gust of wind, which in this situation was so powerful that +it was hardly possible to withstand it, drove me down. + +Notwithstanding that St. Paul’s is itself very high, the elevation of the +ground on which it stands contributes greatly to its elevation. + +The church of St. Peter at Berlin, notwithstanding the total difference +between them in the style of building, appears in some respects to have a +great resemblance to St. Paul’s in London. At least its large high black +roof rises above the other surrounding buildings just as St. Paul’s does. + +What else I saw in this stately cathedral was only a wooden model of this +very edifice, which was made before the church was built, and which +suggests some not unpleasing reflections when one compares it with the +enormous building itself. + +The churchyard is enclosed with an iron rail, and it appears a +considerable distance if you go all round. + +Owing to some cause or other, the site of St. Paul’s strikes you as being +confined, and it is certain that this beautiful church is on every side +closely surrounded by houses. + +A marble statue of Queen Anne in an enclosed piece of ground in the west +front of the church is something of an ornament to that side. + +The size of the bell of St. Paul’s is also worthy of notice, as it is +reckoned one of those that are deemed the largest in Europe. It takes +its place, they say, next to that at Vienna. + +Everything that I saw in St. Paul’s cost me only a little more than a +shilling, which I paid in pence and halfpence, according to a regulated +price, fixed for every different curiosity. + + _Westminster Abbey_. + +On a very gloomy dismal day, just such a one as it ought to be, I went to +see Westminster Abbey. + +I entered at a small door, which brought me immediately to the poets’ +corner, where the monuments and busts of the principal poets, artists, +generals, and great men, are placed. + +Not far from the door, immediately on my entrance, I perceived the statue +of Shakespeare, as large as life; with a band, &c., in the dress usual in +his time. + +A passage out of one of Shakespeare’s own plays (the _Tempest_), in which +he describes in the most solemn and affecting manner, the end, or the +dissolution of all things, is here, with great propriety, put up as his +epitaph; as though none but Shakespeare could do justice to Shakespeare. + +Not far from this immortal bard is Rowe’s monument, which, as it is +intimated in the few lines that are inscribed as his epitaph, he himself +had desired to be placed there. + +At no great distance I saw the bust of that amiable writer, Goldsmith: to +whom, as well as to Butler, whose monument is in a distant part of the +abbey, though they had scarcely necessary bread to eat during their life +time, handsome monuments are now raised. Here, too you see, almost in a +row, the monuments of Milton, Dryden, Gay, and Thomson. The inscription +on Gay’s tombstone is, if not actually immoral, yet futile and weak; +though he is said to have written it himself: + + “Life is a jest, and all things shew it, + ‘I thought so once but now I know it.” + +Our Handel has also a monument here, where he is represented as large as +life. + +An actress, Pritchard, and Booth, an actor, have also very distinguished +monuments erected here to their memories. + +For Newton, as was proper, there is a very costly one. It is above, at +the entrance of the choir, and exactly opposite to this, at the end of +the church, another is erected, which refers you to the former. + +As I passed along the side walls of Westminster Abbey, I hardly saw any +thing but marble monuments of great admirals, but which were all too much +loaded with finery and ornaments, to make on me at least, the intended +impression. + +I always returned with most pleasure to the poets’ corner, where the most +sensible, most able, and most learned men, of the different ages, were +re-assembled; and particularly where the elegant simplicity of the +monuments made an elevated and affecting impression on the mind, while a +perfect recollection of some favourite passage, of a Shakespeare, or +Milton, recurred to my idea, and seemed for a moment to re-animate and +bring back the spirits of those truly great men. + +Of Addison and Pope I have found no monuments here. The vaults where the +kings are buried, and some other things worth notice in the abbey, I have +not yet seen; but perhaps I may at my return to London from the country. + +I have made every necessary preparation for this journey: In the first +place, I have an accurate map of England in my pocket; besides an +excellent book of the roads, which Mr. Pointer, the English merchant to +whom I am recommended, has lent me. The title is “A new and accurate +description of all the direct and principal cross roads in Great +Britain.” This book, I hope, will be of great service to me in my +ramblings. + +I was for a long time undecided which way I should go, whether to the +Isle of Wight, to Portsmouth, or to Derbyshire, which is famous for its +natural curiosities, and also for its romantic situation. At length I +have determined on Derbyshire. + +During my absence I leave my trunk at Mr. Mulhausen’s (one of Mr. +Pointer’s senior partners), that I may not be at the needless expense of +paying for my lodging without making use of it. This Mr. Pointer lived +long in Germany, and is politely partial to us and our language, and +speaks it well. He is a well-bred and singularly obliging man; and one +who possesses a vast fund of information, and a good taste. I cannot but +feel myself happy in having obtained a recommendation to so accomplished +a man. I got it from Messrs. Persent and Dorner, to whom I had the +honour to be recommended by Mr. Von Taubenheim, Privy Counsellor at +Berlin. These recommendations have been of infinite use to me. + +I propose to go to-day as far as Richmond; for which place a stage sets +out about two o’clock from some inn, not far from the new church in the +Strand. Four guineas, some linen, my English book of the roads, and a +map and pocket-book, together with Milton’s Paradise Lost, which I must +put in my pocket, compose the whole of my equipage; and I hope to walk +very lightly with it. But it now strikes half-past one, and of course it +is time for me to be at the stage. Farewell! I will write to you again +from Richmond. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + _Richmond_, 21_st_ _June_, 1782. + +YESTERDAY afternoon I had the luxury for the first time of being driven +in an English stage. These coaches are, at least in the eyes of a +foreigner, quite elegant, lined in the inside; and with two seats large +enough to accommodate six persons; but it must be owned, when the +carriage is full, the company are rather crowded. + +At the White Hart from whence the coach sets out, there was, at first +only an elderly lady who got in; but as we drove along, it was soon +filled, and mostly by ladies, there being only one more gentleman and +myself. The conversation of the ladies among themselves, who appeared to +be a little acquainted with each other, seemed to me to be but very +insipid and tiresome. All I could do was, I drew out my book of the +roads, and marked the way we were going. + +Before you well know that you are out of London you are already in +Kensington and Hammersmith; because there are all the way houses on both +sides, after you are out of the city; just as you may remember the case +is with us when you drive from Berlin to Schoneberg; although in point of +prospect, houses and streets, the difference, no doubt, is prodigious. + +It was a fine day, and there were various delightful prospects on both +sides, on which the eye would willingly have dwelt longer, had not our +coach rolled on past them, so provokingly quick. It appeared somewhat +singular to me, when at a few miles from London, I saw at a distance a +beautiful white house; and perceived on the high road, on which we were +driving, a direction post, on which were written these words: “that great +white house at a distance is a boarding-school!” + +The man who was with us in the coach pointed out to us the country seats +of the lords and great people by which we passed; and entertained us with +all kind of stories of robberies which had been committed on travellers, +hereabouts; so that the ladies at last began to be rather afraid; on +which he began to stand up for the superior honour of the English +robbers, when compared with the French: the former he said robbed only, +the latter both robbed and murdered. + +Notwithstanding this there are in England another species of villains, +who also murder, and that oftentimes for the merest trifle, of which they +rob the person murdered. These are called footpads, and are the lowest +class of English rogues; amongst whom in general there reigns something +like some regard to character. + +The highest order of thieves are the pickpockets or cutpurses, whom you +find everywhere; and sometimes even in the best companies. They are +generally well and handsomely dressed, so that you take them to be +persons of rank; as indeed may sometimes be the case: persons who by +extravagance and excesses have reduced themselves to want, and find +themselves obliged at last to have recourse to pilfering and thieving. + +Next to them come the highwaymen, who rob on horseback; and often, they +say, even with unloaded pistols, they terrify travellers, in order to put +themselves in possession of their purses. Among these persons, however, +there are instances of true greatness of soul, there are numberless +instances of their returning a part of their booty, where the party +robbed has appeared to be particularly distressed; and they are seldom +guilty of murder. + +Then comes the third and lowest, and worst of all thieves and rogues, the +footpads before mentioned; who are on foot, and often murder in the most +inhuman manner, for the sake of only a few shillings, any unfortunate +people who happen to fall in their way. Of this several mournful +instances may be read almost daily in the English papers. Probably they +murder, because they cannot like highwaymen, aided by their horses, make +a rapid flight: and therefore such pests are frequently pretty easily +pursued and taken if the person robbed gives information of his robbery +in time. + +But to return to our stage, I must observe, that they have here a curious +way of riding, not in, but upon a stage-coach. Persons to whom it is not +convenient to pay a full price, instead of the inside, sit on the top of +the coach, without any seats or even a rail. By what means passengers +thus fasten themselves securely on the roof of these vehicles, I know +not; but you constantly see numbers seated there, apparently at their +ease, and in perfect safety. + +This they call riding on the outside; for which they pay only half as +much as those pay who are within: we had at present six of these +passengers over our heads, who, when we alighted, frequently made such a +noise and bustle, as sometimes almost frightened us. He who can properly +balance himself, rides not incommodiously on the outside; and in summer +time, in fine weather, on account of the prospects, it certainly is more +pleasant than it is within: excepting that the company is generally low, +and the dust is likewise more troublesome than in the inside, where, at +any rate, you may draw up the windows according to your pleasure. + +In Kensington, where we stopped, a Jew applied for a place along with us; +but as there was no seat vacant in the inside, he would not ride on the +outside, which seemed not quite to please my travelling companions. They +could not help thinking it somewhat preposterous that a Jew should be +ashamed to ride on the outside, or on any side, and in any way; since as +they added, he was nothing more than a Jew. This antipathy and prejudice +against the Jews, I have noticed to be far more common here, than it is +even with us, who certainly are not partial to them. + +Of the beautiful country seats and villas which we now passed, I could +only through the windows of our coach gain a partial and indistinct +prospect, which led me to wish, as I soon most earnestly did, to be +released from this movable prison. Towards evening we arrived at +Richmond. In London, before I set out, I had paid one shilling; another +was now demanded, so that upon the whole, from London to Richmond, the +passage in the stage costs just two shillings. + +As soon as I had alighted at an inn and had drunk my tea, I went out +immediately to see the town and the circumjacent country. + +Even this town, though hardly out of sight of London, is more +countrified, pleasanter, and more cheerful than London, and the houses do +not seem to be so much blackened by smoke. The people also appeared to +me here more sociable and more hospitable. I saw several sitting on +benches before their doors, to enjoy the cool breeze of the evening. On +a large green area in the middle of the town, a number of boys, and even +young men, were enjoying themselves, and playing at trap-ball. In the +streets there reigned here, compared to London, a pleasing rural +tranquillity, and I breathed a purer and fresher air. + +I went now out of the town over a bridge, which lies across the Thames, +and where you pay a penny as often as you pass over it. The bridge is +lofty and built in the form of an arch, and from it you enter immediately +into a most charming valley, that winds all along the banks of the +Thames. + +It was evening. The sun was just shedding her last parting rays on the +valley; but such an evening, and such a valley! Oh, it is impossible I +should ever forget them. The terrace at Richmond does assuredly afford +one of the finest prospects in the world. Whatever is charming in +nature, or pleasing in art, is to be seen here. Nothing I had ever seen, +or ever can see elsewhere, is to be compared to it. My feelings, during +the few short enraptured minutes that I stood there, it is impossible for +any pen to describe. + +One of my first sensations was chagrin and sorrow for the days and hours +I had wasted in London, and I had vented a thousand bitter reproaches on +my irresolution, that I had not long ago quitted that huge dungeon to +come here and pass my time in paradise. + +Yes, my friend, whatever be your ideas of paradise, and how luxuriantly +soever it may be depicted to your imagination, I venture to foretell that +here you will be sure to find all those ideas realised. In every point +of view, Richmond is assuredly one of the first situations in the world. +Here it was that Thomson and Pope gleaned from nature all those beautiful +passages with which their inimitable writings abound. + +Instead of the incessant distressing noise in London, I saw here at a +distance, sundry little family parties walking arm in arm along the banks +of the Thames. Everything breathed a soft and pleasing calm, which +warmed my heart and filed it with some of the most pleasing sensations of +which our nature is susceptible. + +Beneath I trod on that fresh, even, and soft verdure which is to be seen +only in England. On one side of me lay a wood, than which nature cannot +produce a finer, and on the other the Thames, with its shelvy bank and +charming lawns rising like an amphitheatre, along which, here and there, +one espies a picturesque white house, aspiring in majestic simplicity to +pierce the dark foliage of the surrounding trees; thus studding, like +stars in the galaxy, the rich expanse of this charming vale. + +Sweet Richmond! never, no, never, shall I forget that lovely evening, +when from thy fairy hills thou didst so hospitably smile on me, a poor +lonely, insignificant stranger! As I traversed to and fro thy meads, thy +little swelling hills and flowery dells, and above all that queen of all +rivers, thy own majestic Thames, I forgot all sublunary cares, and +thought only of heaven and heavenly things. Happy, thrice happy am I, I +again and again exclaimed, that I am no longer in yon gloomy city, but +here in Elysium, in Richmond. + +O ye copsy hills, ye green meadows, and ye rich streams in this blessed +country, how have ye enchanted me? Still, however, let me recollect and +resolve, as I firmly do, that even ye shall not prevent my return to +those barren and dusty lands where my, perhaps a less indulgent, destiny +has placed me, and where, in the due discharge of all the arduous and +important duties of that humble function to which providence has called +me, I must and I will faithfully exert my best talents, and in that +exertion find pleasure, and I trust, happiness. In every future moment +of my life, however, the recollection of this scene, and the feelings it +inspired, shall cheer my labours and invigorate my efforts. + +These were some of my reflections, my dearest friend, during my solitary +walk. Of the evening I passed at Richmond, I speak feebly when I content +myself with saying only, it was one of the pleasantest I ever spent in my +life. + +I now resolved to go to bed early, with a firm purpose of also rising +early the next day to revisit this charming walk; for I thought to +myself, I have now seen this temple of the modern world imperfectly; I +have seen it only by moonlight. How much more charming must it be when +glistening with the morning dew! These fond hopes, alas, were all +disappointed. In all great schemes of enjoyment, it is, I believe, no +bad way always to figure to yourself some possible evil that may arise, +and to anticipate a disappointment. If I had done so, I should not +perhaps have felt the mortification I then experienced quite so pungent. +By some means or other I stayed too long out, and so when I returned to +Richmond, I had forgot the name and the sign of the inn where I had +before stopped; it cost me no little trouble to find it again. + +When at last I got back, I told the people what a sweet walk I had had, +and they then spoke much of a prospect from a neighbouring hill, known by +the name of Richmond Hill, which was the very same hill from the top of +which I had just been gazing at the houses in the vale, the preceding +evening. From this same kill, therefore, I resolved the next morning to +see the sun rise. + +The landlady of this house was a notable one, and talked so much and so +loud to her servants, that I could not get to sleep till it was pretty +late. However, I was up next morning at three o’clock, and was now +particularly sensible of the great inconveniences they sustain in England +by their bad custom of rising so late, for as I was the only one in this +family who was up, I could not get out of the house. This obliged me to +spend three most irksome and heavy hours till six o’clock; however, a +servant at length opened the door, and I rushed out to climb Richmond +Hill. To my infinite disappointment, within the space of an hour, the +sky had become overcast, and it was now so cloudy that I could not even +see, nor of course enjoy one half of the delightful prospect that lay +before me. + +On the top of this hill is an alley of chestnut trees, under which here +and there seats are placed. Behind the alley is a row of well-built +gentlemen’s country seats. One does not wonder to see it thus occupied; +besides the pure air, the prospect exceeds everything else of the kind in +the world. I never saw a palace which, if I were the owner of it, I +would not give for any of the houses I now saw on Richmond Terrace. + +The descent of the hill to the Thames is covered with verdure, the Thames +at the foot of it forms near a semicircle, in which it seems to embrace +woody plains, with meadows and country seats in its bosom. On one side +you see the town and its magnificent bridge, and on the other a dark +wood. + +At a distance you could perceive, peeping out among the meadows and +woods, sundry small villages, so that notwithstanding the dulness of the +weather, this prospect even now was one of the finest I had ever seen. +But what is the reason that yesterday evening my feelings were far more +acute and lively, the impressions made on me much stronger, when from the +vale I viewed the hill and fancied that there was in it every thing that +was delightful, than they are this morning, when from the hill I +overlooked the vale and knew pretty exactly what it contained? + +I have now finished my breakfast, and once more seize my staff, the only +companion I have, and now again set out on this romantic journey on foot. +From Windsor you shall hear more of me. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + _Windsor_, 23_rd_ _June_. + +I HAVE already, my dearest friend, now that I write to you from hence, +experienced so many inconveniences as a traveller on foot, that I am at +some loss to determine whether or no I shall go on with my journey in the +same manner. + +A traveller on foot in this country seems to be considered as a sort of +wild man or out-of-the way being, who is stared at, pitied, suspected, +and shunned by everybody that meets him. At least this has hitherto been +my case on the road from Richmond to Windsor. + +My host at Richmond, yesterday morning, could not sufficiently express +his surprise that I intended to venture to walk as far as Oxford, and +still farther. He however was so kind as to send his son, a clever +little boy, to show me the road leading to Windsor. + +At first I walked along a very pleasant footway by the side of the +Thames, where close to my right lay the king’s garden. On the opposite +bank of the Thames was Isleworth, a spot that seemed to be distinguished +by some elegant gentlemen’s country-seats and gardens. Here I was +obliged to ferry the river in order to get into the Oxford Road, which +also leads to Windsor. + +When I was on the other side of the water, I came to a house and asked a +man who was standing at the door if I was on the right road to Oxford. +“Yes,” said he, “but you want a carriage to carry you thither.” When I +answered him that I intended walking it, he looked at me significantly, +shook his head, and went into the house again. + +I was now on the road to Oxford. It is a charming fine broad road, and I +met on it carriages without number, which, however, on account of the +heat, occasioned a dust that was extremely troublesome and disagreeable. +The fine green hedges, which border the roads in England, contribute +greatly to render them pleasant. This was the case in the road I now +travelled, for when I was tired I sat down in the shade under one of +these hedges and read Milton. But this relief was soon rendered +disagreeable to me, for those who rode or drove past me, stared at me +with astonishment, and made many significant gestures as if they thought +my head deranged; so singular must it needs have appeared to them to see +a man sitting along the side of a public road and reading. I therefore +found myself obliged, when I wished to rest myself and read, to look out +for a retired spot in some by-lane or crossroad. + +When I again walked, many of the coachmen who drove by called out to me, +ever and anon, and asked if I would not ride on the outside; and when, +every now and then, a farmer on horseback met me, he said, and seemingly +with an air of pity for me, “’Tis warm walking, sir;” and when I passed +through a village, every old woman testified her pity by an exclamation +of—“Good God!” + +As far as Hounslow the way was very pleasant; afterwards I thought it not +quite so good. It lay across a common, which was of a considerable +extent, and bare and naked, excepting that here and there I saw sheep +feeding. + +I now began to be very tired, when, to my astonishment, I saw a tree in +the middle of the common that stood quite solitary, and spread a shade +like an arbour round it. At the bottom, round the trunk, a bench was +placed, on which one may sit down. Beneath the shade of this tree I +reposed myself a little, read some of Milton, and made a note in my +memorandum-book that I would remember this tree, which had so charitably +and hospitably received under its shade a weary traveller. This, you +see, I have now done. + +The short English miles are delightful for walking. You are always +pleased to find, every now and then, in how short a time you have walked +a mile, though, no doubt, a mile is everywhere a mile, I walk but a +moderate pace, and can accomplish four English miles in an hour. It used +to take me pretty nearly the same time for one German mile. Now it is a +pleasing exchange to find that in two hours I can walk eight miles. And +now I fancy I was about seventeen miles from London, when I came to an +inn, where, for a little wine and water, I was obliged to pay sixpence. +An Englishman who happened to be sitting by the side of the innkeeper +found out that I was a German, and, of course, from the country of his +queen, in praise of whom he was quite lavish, observing more than once +that England never had had such a queen, and would not easily get such +another. + +It now began to grow hot. On the left hand, almost close to the high +road, I met with a singularly clear rivulet. In this I bathed, and was +much refreshed, and afterwards, with fresh alacrity, continued my +journey. + +I had now got over the common, and was once more in a country rich and +well cultivated beyond all conception. This continued to be the case as +far as Slough, which is twenty miles and a half from London, on the way +to Oxford, and from which to the left there is a road leading to Windsor, +whose high white castle I have already seen at a distance. + +I made no stay here, but went directly to the right, along a very +pleasant high road, between meadows and green hedges, towards Windsor, +where I arrived about noon. + +It strikes a foreigner as something particular and unusual when, on +passing through these fine English towns, he observed one of those +circumstances by which the towns in Germany are distinguished from the +villages—no walls, no gates, no sentries, nor garrisons. No stern +examiner comes here to search and inspect us or our baggage; no imperious +guard here demands a sight of our passports; perfectly free and +unmolested, we here walk through villages and towns as unconcerned as we +should through a house of our own. + +Just before I got to Windsor I passed Eton College, one of the first +public schools in England, and perhaps in the world. I have before +observed that there are in England fewer of these great schools than one +might expect. It lay on my left; and on the right, directly opposite to +it, was an inn, into which I went. + +I suppose it was during the hour of recreation, or in playtime, when I +got to Eton, for I saw the boys in the yard before the college, which was +enclosed by a low wall, in great numbers, walking and running up and +down. + +Their dress struck me particularly. From the biggest to the least, they +all wore black cloaks, or gowns, over coloured clothes, through which +there was an aperture for their arms. They also wore besides a square +hat or cap, that seemed to be covered with velvet, such as our clergymen +in many places wear. + +They were differently employed—some talking together, some playing, and +some had their books in their hands, and were reading; but I was soon +obliged to get out of their sight, they stared at me so as I came along, +all over dust, with my stick in my hand. + +As I entered the inn, and desired to have something to eat, the +countenance of the waiter soon gave me to understand that I should there +find no very friendly reception. Whatever I got they seemed to give me +with such an air as showed too plainly how little they thought of me, and +as if they considered me but as a beggar. I must do them the justice to +own, however, that they suffered me to pay like a gentleman. No doubt +this was the first time this pert, bepowdered puppy had ever been called +on to wait on a poor devil who entered their place on foot. I was tired, +and asked for a bedroom where I might sleep. They showed me into one +that much resembled a prison for malefactors. I requested that I might +have a better room at night; on which, without any apology, they told me +that they had no intention of lodging me, as they had no room for such +guests, but that I might go back to Slough, where very probably I might +get a night’s lodging. + +With money in my pocket, and a consciousness, moreover, that I was doing +nothing that was either imprudent, unworthy, or really mean, I own it +mortified and vexed me to find myself obliged to put up with this +impudent ill-usage from people who ought to reflect that they are but the +servants of the public, and little likely to recommend themselves to the +high by being insolent to the low. They made me, however, pay them two +shillings for my dinner and coffee, which I had just thrown down, and was +preparing to shake off the dust from my shoes, and quit this inhospitable +St. Christopher, when the green hills of Windsor smiled so friendly upon +me, that they seemed to invite me first to visit them. + +And now trudging through the streets of Windsor, I at length mounted a +sort of hill; a steep path led me on to its summit, close to the walls of +the castle, where I had an uncommonly extensive and fine prospect, which +so much raised my heart, that in a moment I forgot not only the insults +of waiters and tavern-keepers, but the hardship of my lot in being +obliged to travel in a manner that exposed me to the scorn of a people +whom I wished to respect. Below me lay the most beautiful landscapes in +the world—all the rich scenery that nature, in her best attire, can +exhibit. Here were the spots that furnished those delightful themes of +which the muse of Denham and Pope made choice. I seemed to view a whole +world at once, rich and beautiful beyond conception. At that moment what +more could I have wished for? + +And the venerable castle, that royal edifice which, in every part of it, +has strong traces of antiquity, smiles through its green trees, like the +serene countenance of some hoary sage, who, by the vigour of a happy +constitution, still retains many of the charms of youth. + +Nothing inspired me with more veneration and awe than the fine old +building St. George’s Church, which, as you come down from the castle, is +on your right. At the sight of it past centuries seemed to revive in my +imagination. + +But I will see no more of those sights which are shown you by one of +those venal praters, who ten times a day, parrot-wise, repeat over the +same dull lesson they have got by heart. The surly fellow, who for a +shilling conducted me round the church, had nearly, with his chattering, +destroyed the finest impressions. Henry VIII., Charles I., and Edward +IV. are buried here. After all, this church, both within and without, +has a most melancholy and dismal appearance. + +They were building at what is called the queen’s palace, and prodigious +quantities of materials are provided for that purpose. + +I now went down a gentle declivity into the delightful park at Windsor, +at the foot of which it looks so sombrous and gloomy that I could hardly +help fancying it was some vast old Gothic temple. This forest certainly, +in point of beauty, surpasses everything of the kind you can figure to +yourself. To its own charms, when I saw it, there were added a most +pleasing and philosophical solitude, the coolness of an evening breeze, +all aided by the soft sounds of music, which, at this distance from the +castle, from whence it issued, was inexpressibly sweet. It threw me into +a sort of enthusiastic and pleasing reverie, which made me ample amends +for the fatigues, discourtesies, and continued cross accidents I had +encountered in the course of the day. + +I now left the forest; the clock struck six, and the workmen were going +home from their work. + +I have forgot to mention the large round tower of the castle, which is +also a very ancient building. The roads that lead to it are all along +their sides planted with shrubs; these, being modern and lively, make a +pleasing contrast to the fine old mossy walls. On the top of this tower +the flag of Great Britain is usually displayed, which, however, as it was +now late in the evening, was taken in. + +As I came down from the castle I saw the king driving up to it in a very +plain, two-wheeled, open carriage. The people here were politer than I +used to think they were in London, for I did not see a single person, +high or low, who did not pull off their hats as their sovereign passed +them. + +I was now again in Windsor, and found myself, not far from the castle, +opposite to a very capital inn, where I saw many officers and several +persons of consequence going in and out. And here at this inn, contrary +to all expectation, I was received by the landlord with great civility, +and even kindness—very contrary to the haughty and insolent airs which +the upstart at the other, and his jackanapes of a waiter, there thought +fit to give themselves. + +However, it seemed to be my fate to be still a scandal and an eyesore to +all the waiters. The maid, by the order of her master, showed me a room +where I might adjust my dress a little; but I could hear her mutter and +grumble as she went along with me. Having put myself a little to rights, +I went down into the coffee-room, which is immediately at the entrance of +the house, and told the landlord that I thought I wished to have yet one +more walk. On this he obligingly directed me to stroll down a pleasant +field behind his house, at the foot of which, he said, I should find the +Thames, and a good bathing place. + +I followed his advice; and this evening was, if possible, finer than the +preceding. Here again, as I had been told I should, I found the Thames +with all its gentle windings. Windsor shone nearly as bright over the +green vale as those charming houses on Richmond Hill, and the verdure was +not less soft and delicate. The field I was in seemed to slope a little +towards the Thames. I seated myself near a bush, and there waited the +going down of the sun. At a distance I saw a number of people bathing in +the Thames. When, after sunset, they were a little dispersed, I drew +near the spot I had been directed to; and here, for the first time, I +sported in the cool tide of the Thames. The bank was steep, but my +landlord had dug some steps that went down into the water, which is +extremely convenient for those who cannot swim. Whilst I was there, a +couple of smart lively apprentice boys came also from the town, who, with +the greatest expedition, threw off their clothes and leathern aprons, and +plunged themselves, head foremost, into the water, where they opposed the +tide with their sinewy arms till they were tired. They advised me, with +much natural civility, to untie my hair, and that then, like them, I +might plunge into the stream head foremost. + +Refreshed and strengthened by this cool bath, I took a long walk by +moonlight on the banks of the Thames. To my left were the towers of +Windsor, before me a little village with a steeple, the top of which +peeped out among the green trees, at a distance two inviting hills which +I was to climb in the morning, and around me the green cornfields. Oh! +how indescribably beautiful was this evening and this walk! At a +distance among the houses I could easily descry the inn where I lodged, +and where I seemed to myself at length to have found a place of refuge +and a home; and I thought, if I could but stay there, I should not be +very sorry if I were never to find another. + +How soon did all these pleasing dreams vanish! On my return the waiters +(who, from my appearance, too probably expected but a trifling reward for +their attentions to me) received me gruffly, and as if they were sorry to +see me again. This was not all; I had the additional mortification to be +again roughly accosted by the cross maid who had before shown me to the +bed-chamber, and who, dropping a kind of half courtesy, with a suppressed +laugh, sneeringly told me I might look out for another lodging, as I +could not sleep there, since the room she had by mistake shown me was +already engaged. It can hardly be necessary to tell you that I loudly +protested against this sudden change. At length the landlord came, and I +appealed to him; and he with great courtesy immediately desired another +room to be shown me, in which, however, there were two beds, so that I +was obliged to admit a companion. Thus was I very near being a second +time turned out of an inn. + +Directly under my room was the tap-room, from which I could plainly hear +too much of the conversation of some low people, who were drinking and +singing songs, in which, as far as I could understand them, there were +many passages at least as vulgar and nonsensical as ours. + +This company, I guessed, consisted chiefly of soldiers and low fellows. +I was hardly well lulled to sleep by this hurly-burly, when my chum +(probably one of the drinking party below) came stumbling into the room +and against my bed. At length, though not without some difficulty, he +found his own bed, into which he threw himself just as he was, without +staying to pull off either clothes or boots. + +This morning I rose very early, as I had proposed, in order to climb the +two hills which yesterday presented me with so inviting a prospect, and +in particular that one of them on the summit of which a high white house +appeared among the dark-green trees; the other was close by. + +I found no regular path leading to these hills, and therefore went +straight forward, without minding roads, only keeping in view the object +of my aim. This certainly created me some trouble. I had sometimes a +hedge, and sometimes a hog to walk round; but at length I had attained +the foot of the so earnestly wished-for hill with the high white house on +its summit, when, just as I was going to ascend it, and was already +pleasing myself in the idea with the prospect from the white house, +behold I read these words on a board: “Take care! there are steel traps +and spring guns here.” + +All my labour was lost, and I now went round to the other hill; but here +were also steel traps and spring gnus, though probably never intended to +annoy such a wanderer as myself, who wished only to enjoy the fine +morning air from this eminence. + +Thus disappointed in my hopes, I returned to Windsor, much in the same +temper and manner as I had yesterday morning from Richmond Hill; where my +wishes had also been frustrated. + +When I got to my inn, I received from the ill-tempered maid, who seemed +to have been stationed there on purpose to plague and vex me, the polite +welcome, that on no account should I sleep another night there. Luckily, +that was not my intention. I now write to you in the coffee room, where +two Germans are talking together, who certainly little suspect how well I +understand them; if I were to make myself known to them, as a German, +most probably, even these fellows would not speak to me, because I travel +on foot. I fancy they are Hanoverians! The weather is so fine that, +notwithstanding the inconveniences I have hitherto experienced on this +account, I think I shall continue my journey in the same manner. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + _Oxford_, _June_ 25. + +TO what various, singular, and unaccountable fatalities and adventures +are not foot-travellers exposed, in this land of carriages and horses! +But, I will begin my relation in form and order. + +In Windsor, I was obliged to pay for an old fowl I had for supper, for a +bedroom which I procured with some difficulty, and not without murmurs, +and in which, to complete my misadventures, I was disturbed by a drunken +fellow; and for a couple of dishes of tea, nine shillings, of which the +fowl alone was charged six shillings. + +As I was going away the waiter, who had served me with so very ill a +grace, placed himself on the stairs and said, “Pray remember the waiter.” +I gave him three halfpence, on which he saluted me with the heartiest +“G—d d—n you, sir!” I had ever heard. At the door stood the cross maid, +who also accosted me with, “Pray remember the chambermaid.” “Yes, yes,” +said I, “I shall long remember your most ill-mannered behaviour and +shameful incivility;” and so I gave her nothing. I hope she was stung +and nettled at my reproof; however, she strove to stifle her anger by a +contemptuous, loud, hoarse laugh. Thus, as I left Windsor, I was +literally followed by abuses and curses. + +I am very sorry to say that I rejoiced when I once more perceived the +towers of Windsor behind me. It is not proper for wanderers to be +prowling near the palaces of kings, and so I sat me down, +philosophically, in the shade of a green hedge, and again read Milton, no +friend of kings, though the first of poets. Whatever I may think of +their inns, it is impossible not to admire and be charmed with this +country. + +I took my way through Slough, by Salthill, to Maidenhead. At Salthill, +which can hardly be called even a village, I saw a barber’s shop, and so +I resolved to get myself both shaved and dressed. For putting my hair a +little in order, and shaving me, I was forced to pay him a shilling. +Opposite to this shop there stands an elegant house and a neat garden. + +Between Salthill and Maidenhead, I met with the first very remarkable and +alarming adventure that has occurred during my pilgrimage. + +Hitherto I had scarcely met a single foot passenger, whilst coaches +without number every moment rolled past me, for there are few roads, even +in England, more crowded than this western road, which leads to Bath and +Bristol as well as to Oxford. I now also began to meet numbers of people +on horseback, which is by no means an usual method of travelling. + +The road now led me along a low sunken piece of ground between high +trees, so that I could not see far before me, when a fellow in a brown +frock and round hat, with a stick in his hand a great deal stronger than +mine, came up to me. His countenance immediately struck me as having in +it something suspicious. He however passed me; but, before I was aware, +he turned back and asked me for a halfpenny to buy, as he said, some +bread, as he had eaten nothing that day. I felt in my pocket, and found +that I had no halfpence: no, nor even a sixpence; in short, nothing but +shillings. I told him the circumstance, which I hoped would excuse me; +on which he said, with an air and manner the drift of which I could not +understand, “God bless my soul!” This drew my attention still closer to +the huge brawny fist, which grasped his stick, and that closer attention +determined me immediately to put my hand in my pocket and give him a +shilling. Meanwhile a coach came up. The fellow thanked me and went on. +Had the coach come a moment sooner, I should not easily have given him +the shilling, which, God knows, I could not well spare. Whether this was +a footpad or not, I will not pretend to say, but he had every appearance +of it. + +I now came to Maidenhead bridge, which is five-and-twenty English miles +from London. + +The English milestones give me much pleasure, and they certainly are a +great convenience to travellers. They have often seemed to ease me of +half the distance of a journey merely by telling me how far I had already +gone, and by assuring me that I was on the right road. For, besides the +distance from London, every milestone informs you that to the next place +is so many miles, and where there are cross-roads there are +direction-posts, so that it is hardly possible to lose one’s-self in +walking. I must confess that all this journey has seemed but as it were +one continued walk for pleasure. + +From Maidenhead bridge there is a delightful prospect towards a hill, +which extends itself along the right bank of the Thames, and on the top +of it there are two beautiful country seats, all surrounded with meadows +and parks. The first is called Taplow, and belongs to the Earl of +Inchiquin; and a little farther Cliefden, which also belongs to him. + +These villas seem all to be surrounded with green meadows, lying along +thick woods, and, altogether, are most charming. + +From this bridge it is not far to Maidenhead, near which, on the left, is +another prospect of a beautiful seat, belonging to Pennyston Powney, Esq. + +All this knowledge I have gained chiefly from my English guide; which I +have constantly in my hand; and in which everything most worthy of notice +in every mile is marked. These notices I get confirmed or refuted by the +people at whose houses I stop; who wonder how I, who am a foreigner, have +come to be so well acquainted with their country. + +Maidenhead is a place of little note; for some mulled ale, which I +desired them to make me, I was obliged to pay ninepence. I fancy they +did not take me to be either a great, or a very rich man, for I heard +them say, as I passed on, “A stout fellow!” This, though perhaps not +untrue, did not seem to sound in my ears as very respectful. + +At the end of the village was a shoemaker’s shop, just as at the end of +Salthill there was a barber’s shop. + +From hence I went to Henley, which is eleven miles from Maidenhead, and +thirty-six from London. + +Having walked pretty fast for six English miles together, and being now +only five miles from Henley, I came to a rising ground where there just +happened to be a milestone, near which I sat down, to enjoy one of the +most delightful prospects, the contemplation of which I recommend to +everyone who may ever happen to come to this spot. Close before me rose +a soft hill, full of green cornfields, fenced with quick-hedges, and the +top of it was encircled with a wood. + +At some little distance, in a large semicircle, one green hill rose after +another, all around me, gently raising themselves aloft from the banks of +the Thames, and on which woods, meadows, arable lands, and villages were +interspersed in the greatest and most beautiful variety; whilst at their +foot the Thames meandered, in most picturesque windings, among villages, +gentlemen’s seats, and green vales. + +The banks of the Thames are everywhere beautiful, everywhere charming; +how delighted was I with the sight of it when, having lost it for a short +time, I suddenly and unexpectedly saw it again with all its beautiful +banks. In the vale below, flocks were feeding; and from the hills I +heard the sweet chimes of distant bells. + +The circumstance that renders these English prospects so enchantingly +beautiful, is a concurrence and union of the _tout ensemble_. Everything +coincides and conspires to render them fine, moving pictures. It is +impossible to name, or find a spot, on which the eye would not delight to +dwell. Any of the least beautiful of any of these views that I have seen +in England would, anywhere in Germany, be deemed a paradise. + +Reinforced, as it were, by this gratifying prospect, to support fresh +fatigues, I now walked a quick pace, both up and down the hills, the five +remaining miles to Henley, where I arrived about four in the afternoon. + +To the left, just before I got to Henley, on this side of the Thames, I +saw on a hill a fine park and a magnificent country seat, at present +occupied by General Conway. + +Just before my entrance into Henley, I walked a little directly on the +banks of the Thames; and sat myself down in the high grass, whilst +opposite to me, on the other side, lay the park on the hill. As I was a +little tired, I fell asleep, and when I awoke the last rays of the +setting sun just shone upon me. + +Invigorated by this sweet, though short, slumber, I walked on and entered +the town. Its appearance, however, indicated that it was too fine a +place for me, and so I determined to stop at an inn on the road-side, +such a one as the Vicar of Wakefield well calls, “the resort of indigence +and frugality.” + +The worst of it was, no one, even in these places of refuge, would take +me in. Yet, on this road, I met two farmers, the first of whom I asked +whether he thought I could get a night’s lodging at a house which I saw +at a distance, by the road side. “Yes, sir, I daresay you may,” he +replied. But he was mistaken: when I came there, I was accosted with +that same harsh salutation, which though, alas, no longer quite new to +me, was still unpleasing to my ears; “We have got no beds; you can’t stay +here to-night.” It was the same at the other inn on the road; I was +therefore obliged to determine to walk on as far as Nettlebed, which was +five miles farther, where I arrived rather late in the evening, when it +was indeed quite dark. + +Everything seemed to be all alive in this little village; there was a +party of militia soldiers who were dancing, singing, and making merry. +Immediately on my entrance into the village, the first house that I saw, +lying on my left, was an inn, from which, as usual in England, a large +beam extended across the street to the opposite house, from which hung +dangling an astonishing large sign, with the name of the proprietor. + +“May I stay here to-night?” I asked with eagerness. “Why, yes, you may;” +an answer which, however cold and surly, made me exceedingly happy. + +They showed me into the kitchen, and set me down to sup at the same table +with some soldiers and the servants. I now, for the first time, found +myself in one of those kitchens which I had so often read of in +Fielding’s fine novels; and which certainly give one, on the whole, a +very accurate idea of English manners. + +The chimney in this kitchen, where they were roasting and boiling, seemed +to be taken off from the rest of the room and enclosed by a wooden +partition; the rest of the apartment was made use of as a sitting and +eating-room. All round on the sides were shelves with pewter dishes and +plates, and the ceiling was well stored with provisions of various kinds, +such as sugar-loaves, black-puddings, hams, sausages, flitches of bacon, +&c. + +While I was eating, a post-chaise drove up, and in a moment both the +folding-doors were thrown open and the whole house set in motion, in +order to receive, with all due respect, these guests, who, no doubt, were +supposed to be persons of consequence. The gentlemen alighted, however, +only for a moment, and called for nothing but a couple of pots of beer, +and then drove away again. Notwithstanding, the people of the house +behaved to them with all possible attention, for they came in a +post-chaise. + +Though this was only an ordinary village, and they certainly did not take +me for a person of consequence, they yet gave me a carpeted bedroom, and +a very good bed. + +The next morning I put on clean linen, which I had along with me, and +dressed myself as well as I could. And now, when I thus made my +appearance, they did not, as they had the evening before, show me into +the kitchen, but into the parlour, a room that seemed to be allotted for +strangers, on the ground-floor. I was also now addressed by the most +respectful term, “sir;” whereas the evening before I had been called only +“master”: by this latter appellation, I believe, it is usual to address +only farmers and quite common people. + +This was Sunday, and all the family were in their Sunday-clothes. I now +began to be much pleased with this village, and so I resolved to stop at +it for the day, and attend divine service. For this purpose I borrowed a +prayer-book of my host. Mr. Illing was his name, which struck me the +more, perhaps, because it is a very common name in Germany. During my +breakfast I read over several parts of the English liturgy, and could not +help being struck at the circumstance that every word in the whole +service seems to be prescribed and dictated to the clergyman. They do +not visit the sick but by a prescribed form; as, for instance, they must +begin by saying, “Peace be to this house,” &c. + +Its being called a prayer-book, rather than, like ours, a hymn-book, +arises from the nature of the English service, which is composed very +little of singing, and almost entirely of praying. The psalms of David, +however, are here translated into English verse, and are generally +printed at the end of English prayer-books. + +The prayer-book which my landlord lent me was quite a family piece, for +all his children’s births and names, and also his own wedding-day, were +very carefully set down on it. Even on this account alone the book would +not have been uninteresting to me. + +At half-past nine the service began. Directly opposite to our house, the +boys of the village were all drawn up, as if they had been recruits to be +drilled; all well-looking, healthy lads, neat and decently dressed, and +with their hair cut short and combed on the forehead, according to the +English fashion; their bosoms were open, and the white frills of their +shirts turned back on each side. They seemed to be drawn up here at the +entrance of the village merely to wait the arrival of the clergyman. + +I walked a little way out of the village, where, at some distance, I saw +several people coming from another village, to attend divine service here +at Nettlebed. + +At length came the parson on horseback. The boys pulled off their hats, +and all made him very low bows. He appeared to be rather an elderly man, +and wore his own hair round and decently dressed, or rather curled +naturally. + +The bell now rung in, and so I too, with a sort of secret proud +sensation, as if I also had been an Englishman, went with my prayer-book +under my arm to church, along with the rest of the congregation; and when +I got into the church, the clerk very civilly seated me close to the +pulpit. + +Nothing can possibly be more simple, apt, and becoming than the few +decorations of this church. + +Directly over the altar, on two tables in large letters, the ten +commandments were written. There surely is much wisdom and propriety in +thus placing, full in the view of the people, the sum and substance of +all morality. + +Under the pulpit near the steps that led up to it, was a desk, from which +the clergyman read the liturgy, the responses were all regularly made by +the clerk; the whole congregation joining occasionally, though but in a +low voice; as for instance, the minister said, “Lord, have mercy upon +us!” the clerk and the congregation immediately subjoin, “and forgive us +all our sins.” In general, when the clergyman offers up a prayer, the +clerk and the whole congregation answer only, Amen! + +The English service must needs be exceedingly fatiguing to the +officiating minister, inasmuch as besides a sermon, the greatest part of +the liturgy falls to his share to read, besides the psalms and two +lessons. + +The joining of the whole congregation in prayer has something exceedingly +solemn and affecting in it. + +Two soldiers, who sat near me in the church, and who had probably been in +London, seemed to wish to pass for philosophers, and wits; for they did +not join in the prayers of the church. + +The service was now pretty well advanced, when I observed some little +stir in the desk, the clerk was busy, and they seemed to be preparing for +something new and solemn, and I also perceived several musical +instruments. The clergyman now stopped, and the clerk then said in a +loud voice, “Let us sing to the praise and glory of God, the +forty-seventh psalm.” + +I cannot well express how affecting and edifying it seemed to me, to hear +this whole orderly and decent congregation, in this small country church, +joining together with vocal and instrumental music, in the praise of +their Maker. It was the more grateful, as having been performed, not by +mercenary musicians, but by the peaceful and pious inhabitants of this +sweet village. I can hardly figure to myself any offering more likely to +be grateful to God. + +The congregation sang and prayed alternately several times, and the tunes +of the psalms were particularly lively and cheerful, though at the same +time sufficiently grave, and uncommonly interesting. I am a warm admirer +of all sacred music, and I cannot but add that that of the Church of +England is particularly calculated to raise the heart to devotion; I own +it often affected me even to tears. + +The clergyman now stood up and made a short but very proper discourse on +this text: “Not all they who say, Lord, Lord! shall enter the kingdom of +heaven.” His language was particularly plain, though forcible; his +arguments were no less plain, convincing, and earnest, but contained +nothing that was particularly striking. I do not think the sermon lasted +more than half an hour. + +This clergyman had not perhaps a very prepossessing appearance; I thought +him also a little distant and reserved, and I did not quite like his +returning the bows of the farmers with a very formal nod. + +I stayed till the service was quite over, and then went out of the church +with the congregation, and amused myself with reading the inscriptions on +the tombstones in the churchyard, which in general, are simpler, more +pathetic, and better written than ours. + +There were some of them which, to be sure, were ludicrous and laughable +enough. + +Among these is one on the tomb of a smith, which on account of its +singularity, I here copy and send you. + + “My sledge and anvil he declined, + My bellows too have lost their wind; + My fire’s extinct, my forge decayed, + My coals are spent, my iron’s gone, + My nails are drove: my work is done.” + +Many of these epitaphs closed with the following quaint rhymes: + + “Physicians were in vain; + God knew the best; + So here I rest.” + +In the body of the church I saw a marble monument of a son of the +celebrated Dr. Wallis, with the following simple and affecting +inscription: + + “The same good sense which qualified him for every public employment + Taught him to spend his life here in retirement.” + +All the farmers whom I saw there were dressed, not as ours are, in coarse +frocks, but with some taste, in fine good cloth; and were to be +distinguished from the people of the town, not so much by their dress, as +by the greater simplicity and modesty of their behaviour. + +Some soldiers, who probably were ambitious of being thought to know the +world, and to be wits, joined me, as I was looking at the church, and +seemed to be quite ashamed of it, as they said it was only a very +miserable church. On which I took the liberty to inform them, that no +church could be miserable which contained orderly and good people. + +I stayed here to dinner. In the afternoon there was no service; the +young people however, went to church, and there sang some few psalms; +others of the congregation were also present. This was conducted with so +much decorum, that I could hardly help considering it as actually a kind +of church-service. I stayed with great pleasure till this meeting also +was over. + +I seemed indeed to be enchanted, and as if I could not leave this +village. Three times did I get off, in order to go on farther, and as +often returned, more than half resolved to spend a week, or more, in my +favourite Nettlebed. + +But the recollection that I had but a few weeks to stay in England, and +that I must see Derbyshire, at length drove me away. I cast many a +longing, lingering look on the little church-steeple, and those +hospitable friendly roofs, where, all that morning, I had found myself so +perfectly at home. + +It was now nearly three o’clock in the afternoon when I left this place, +and I was still eighteen miles from Oxford. However, I seemed resolved +to make more than one stage of it to Oxford, that seat of the muses, and +so, by passing the night about five miles from it, to reach it in good +time next morning. + +The road from Nettlebed seemed to me but as one long fine gravel walk in +a neat garden. And my pace in it was varied, like that of one walking in +a garden: I sometimes walked quick, then slow, and then sat down and read +Milton. + +When I had got about eight miles from Nettlebed, and was now not far from +Dorchester, I had the Thames at some distance on my left, and on the +opposite side I saw an extensive hill, behind which a tall mast seemed to +rise. This led me to suppose that on the other side of the hill there +must needs also be a river. The prospect I promised myself from this +hill could not possibly be passed, and so I went out of the road to the +left over a bridge across the Thames, and mounted the hill, always +keeping the mast in view. When I had attained the summit, I found (and +not without some shame and chagrin) that it was all an illusion. There +was, in fact, nothing before me but a great plain, and the mast had been +fixed there, either as a maypole only, or to entice curious people out of +their way. + +I therefore now again, slowly and sullenly, descended the hill, at the +bottom of which was a house, where several people were looking out of the +window, and, as I supposed, laughing at me. Even if it were so, it +seemed to be but fair, and so it rather amused, than vexed me, and I +continued to jog on, without much regretting my waste journey to the +mast. + +Not far from Dorchester, I had another delightful view. The country here +became so fine, that I positively could not prevail on myself to quit it, +and so I laid myself down on the green turf, which was so fresh and +sweet, that I could almost have been contented, like Nebuchadnezzar, to +have grazed on it. The moon was at the full; the sun darted its last +parting rays through the green hedges, to all which was added, the +overpowering fragrance of the meadows, the diversified song of the birds, +the hills that skirted the Thames, some of them of a light, and others of +a dark-green hue, with the tufted tops of trees dispersed here and there +among them. The contemplation of all these delightful circumstances +well-nigh overcame me. + +I arrived rather late at Dorchester. This is only a small place, but +there is in it a large and noble old church. As I was walking along, I +saw several ladies with their heads dressed, leaning out of their +windows, or standing before the houses, and this made me conclude that +this was too fine a place for me, and so I determined to walk on +three-quarters of a mile farther to Nuneham, which place is only five +miles from Oxford. When I reached Nuneham, I was not a little tired, and +it was also quite dark. + +The place consists of two rows of low, neat houses, built close to each +other, and as regular and uniform as a London street. All the doors +seemed to be shut, and even a light was to be seen only in a few of them. + +At length quite at the end of the place, I perceived a great sign hanging +across the street, and the last house to the left was the inn, at which +everything seemed to be still in motion. + +I entered without ceremony, and told them my errand, which was, that I +intended to sleep there that night. “By no means,” was the answer, “it +was utterly impossible; the whole house was full, and all their beds +engaged, and, as I had come so far, I might even as well walk on the +remaining five miles to Oxford.” + +Being very hungry, I requested that, at least, they would give me +something to eat. To this they answered that, as I could not stay all +night there, it would be more proper for me to sup where I lodged, and so +I might go on. + +At length, quite humbled by the untowardness of my circumstances, I asked +for a pot of beer, and that they did vouchsafe to give me, for ready +money only; but a bit of bread to eat with it (for which also I would +willingly have paid) they peremptorily refused me. + +Such unparalleled inhospitality I really could not have expected in an +English inn, but resolving, with a kind of spiteful indignation, to see +how far their inhumanity would carry them, I begged that they would only +let me sleep on a bench, and merely give me house-room, adding, that if +they would grant me that boon only, I would pay them the same as for a +bed, for, that I was so tired, I could not possibly go any farther. Even +in the moment that I was thus humbly soliciting this humble boon, they +banged the door to full in my face. + +As here, in a small village, they had refused to receive me, it seemed to +be presumption to hope that I should gain admittance at Oxford. What +could I do? I was much tired, and so, as it was not a very cold night, I +resolved to pass it in the open air; in this resolution, bouncing from +this rude inn, I went to look out for a convenient spot for that purpose +in an adjoining field, beneath some friendly tree. Just as I had found a +place, which I thought would do, and was going to pull off my great coat +to lay under my head by way of pillow, I heard someone behind me, +following me with a quick pace. At first I was alarmed, but my fears +were soon dispelled by his calling after me, and asking “if I would +accept of company.” + +As little as anyone is to be trusted who thus follows you into a field in +a dark night, yet it was a pleasure to me to find that there were still +some beings not quite inhuman, and at least one person who still +interested himself about me, I therefore stopped, and as he came up to me +he said that if I was a good walker, we might keep each other company, as +he was also going to Oxford. I readily accepted of his proposal, and so +we immediately set off together. + +Now, as I could not tell whether my travelling companion was to be +trusted or not, I soon took an opportunity to let him know that I was +poor, and much distressed. To confirm this, I told him of the inhumanity +with which I had just been treated at the inn, where they refused a poor +wanderer so much as a place to lay his head, or even a morsel of bread +for his money. + +My companion somewhat excused the people by saying that the house was +really full of people who had been at work in the neighbourhood, and now +slept there. But that they had refused me a bit of bread he certainly +could not justify. As we went along, other topics of conversation were +started, and among other things he asked me where I came from that day. + +I answered from Nettlebed, and added, that I had attended divine service +there that morning. + +“As you probably passed through Dorchester this afternoon,” said he, “you +might have heard me preach also, had you come into the church there, for +that is my curacy, from which I am just come, and am now returning to +Oxford.” “So you are a clergyman;” said I, quite overjoyed that, in a +dark night, I had met a companion on the road, who was of the same +profession as myself. “And I, also,” said I, “am a preacher of the +gospel, though not of this country.” And now I thought it right to give +him to understand, that it was not, as I had before intimated, out of +absolute poverty, but with a view of becoming better acquainted with men +and manners, that I thus travelled on foot. He was as much pleased with +this agreeable meeting as myself, and before we took a step farther, we +cordially shook hands. + +He now began to address me in Latin, and on my answering him in that +language, which I attempted to pronounce according to the English manner +of speaking it, he applauded me not a little for my correct +pronunciation. He then told me, that some years ago, in the night also, +and nearly at the same spot where he found me, he had met another German, +who likewise spoke to him in Latin; but this unknown countryman of mine +had pronounced it so very badly, that he said it was absolutely +unintelligible. + +The conversation now turned on various theological matters; and among +others on the novel notions of a Dr. Priestly, whom he roundly blamed. I +was not at all disposed to dispute that point with him, and so, +professing with great sincerity, a high esteem for the Church of England, +and great respect and regard for its clergy, I seemed to gain his good +opinion. + +Beguiling the tediousness of the road by such discourse, we were now got, +almost without knowing it, quite to Oxford. + +He told me I should now see one of the finest and most beautiful cities, +not only in England, but in all Europe. All he lamented, was, that on +account of the darkness of the night, I should not immediately see it. + +This really was the case: “And now,” said he, as we entered the town, “I +introduce you into Oxford by one of the finest, the longest, and most +beautiful streets, not only in this city, but in England, and I may +safely add in all Europe.” + +The beauty and the magnificence of the street I could not distinguish; +but of its length I was perfectly sensible by my fatigue; for we still +went on, and still through the longest, the finest, and most beautiful +street in Europe, which seemed to have no end; nor had I any assurance +that I should be able to find a bed for myself in all this famous street. +At length my companion stopped to take leave of me, and said he should +now go to his college. + +“And I,” said I, “will seat myself for the night on this stone bench and +await the morning, as it will be in vain for me, I imagine, to look for +shelter in a house at this time of night.” + +“Seat yourself on a stone!” said my companion, and shook his head. “No, +no! come along with me to a neighbouring ale-house, where it is possible +they mayn’t be gone to bed, and we may yet find company.” We went on a +few houses further, and then knocked at a door. It was then nearly +twelve. They readily let us in; but how great was my astonishment, when, +on being shown into a room on the left, I saw a great number of +clergymen, all with their gowns and bands on, sitting round a large +table, each with his pot of beer before him. My travelling companion +introduced me to them, as a German clergyman, whom he could not +sufficiently praise for my correct pronunciation of the Latin, my +orthodoxy, and my good walking. + +I now saw myself in a moment, as it were, all at once transported into +the midst of a company, all apparently very respectable men, but all +strangers to me. And it appeared to me extraordinary that I should, thus +at midnight, be in Oxford, in a large company of Oxonian clergy, without +well knowing how I had got there. Meanwhile, however, I took all the +pains in my power to recommend myself to my company, and in the course of +conversation, I gave them as good an account as I could of our German +universities, neither denying nor concealing that, now and then, we had +riots and disturbances. “Oh, we are very unruly here, too,” said one of +the clergymen as he took a hearty draught out of his pot of beer, and +knocked on the table with his hand. The conversation now became louder, +more general, and a little confused; they enquired after Mr. Bruns, at +present professor at Helmstadt, and who was known by many of them. + +Among these gentlemen there was one of the name of Clerk, who seemed +ambitious to pass for a great wit, which he attempted by starting sundry +objections to the Bible. I should have liked him better if he had +confined himself to punning and playing on his own name, by telling us +again and again, that he should still be at least a Clerk, even though he +should never become a clergyman. Upon the whole, however, he was, in his +way, a man of some humour, and an agreeable companion. + +Among other objections to the Scriptures, he started this one to my +travelling companion, whose name I now learnt was Maud, that it was said +in the Bible that God was a wine-bibber. On this Mr. Maud fell into a +violent passion, and maintained that it was utterly impossible that any +such passage should be found in the Bible. Another divine, a Mr. Caern +referred us to his absent brother, who had already been forty years in +the church, and must certainly know something of such a passage if it +were in the Bible, but he would venture to lay any wager his brother knew +nothing of it. + +“Waiter! fetch a Bible!” called out Mr. Clerk, and a great family Bible +was immediately brought in, and opened on the table among all the beer +jugs. + +Mr. Clerk turned over a few leaves, and in the book of Judges, 9th +chapter, verse xiii, he read, “Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God +and man?” + +Mr. Maud and Mr. Caern, who had before been most violent, now sat as if +struck dumb. A silence of some minutes prevailed, when all at once, the +spirit of revelation seemed to come on me, and I said, “Why, gentlemen, +you must be sensible that it is but an allegorical expression;” and I +added, “how often in the Bible are kings called gods!” + +“Why, yes, to be sure,” said Mr. Maud and Mr. Caern, “it is an +allegorical expression; nothing can be more clear; it is a metaphor, and +therefore it is absurd to understand it in a literal sense.” And now +they, in their turn, triumphed over poor Clerk, and drank large draughts +to my health in strong ale; which, as my company seemed to like so much, +I was sorry I could not like. It either intoxicated or stupefied me; and +I do think it overpowers one much sooner than so much wine would. The +conversation now turned on many other different subjects. At last, when +morning drew near, Mr. Maud suddenly exclaimed, “D-n me, I must read +prayers this morning at All-Souls!” D-n me is an abbreviation of G—d d—n +me; which, in England, does not seem to mean more mischief or harm than +any of our or their common expletives in conversation, such as O gemini! +or, The deuce take me! + +Before Mr. Maud went away, he invited me to go and see him in the +morning, and very politely offered himself to show me the curiosities of +Oxford. The rest of the company now also dispersed; and as I had once +(though in so singular a manner) been introduced into so reputable a +society, the people of the house made no difficulty of giving me lodging, +but with great civility showed me a very decent bed-chamber. + +I am almost ashamed to own, that next morning, when I awoke, I had got so +dreadful a headache, from the copious and numerous toasts of my jolly and +reverend friends, that I could not possibly get up; still less could I +wait on Mr. Maud at his college. + +The inn where I was goes by the name of the Mitre. Compared to Windsor, +I here found prince-like attendance. Being, perhaps, a little elevated +the preceding evening, I had in the gaiety, or perhaps in the vanity of +my heart, told the waiter, that he must not think, because I came on +foot, that therefore I should give him less than others gave. I assured +him of the contrary. It was probably not a little owing to this +assurance that I had so much attention shown to me. + +I now determined to stay at least a couple of days at Oxford; it was +necessary and proper, if for no other reason, yet merely that I might +have clean linen. No people are so cleanly as the English, nor so +particular about neat and clean linen. For, one afternoon, my shirt not +having been lately changed, as I was walking through a little street, I +heard two women, who were standing at a door, call after me, “Look at the +gentleman there! a fine gentleman, indeed, who cannot afford even a clean +shirt!” + +I dined below with the family, and a few other persons, and the +conversation in general was agreeable enough. I was obliged to tell them +many wonderful stories (for who are so illiterate or insensible as not to +be delighted with the marvellous!) concerning Germany and the King of +Prussia. They could not sufficiently admire my courage in determining to +travel on foot, although they could not help approving of the motive. At +length, however, it came out, and they candidly owned, that I should not +have been received into their house, had I not been introduced as I was. + +I was now confirmed in my suspicions, that, in England, any person +undertaking so long a journey on foot, is sure to be looked upon and +considered as either a beggar or a vagabond, or some necessitous wretch, +which is a character not much more popular than that of a rogue; so that +I could now easily account for my reception in Windsor and at Nuneham. +But, with all my partiality for this country, it is impossible even in +theory, and much less so in practice, to approve of a system which +confines all the pleasures and benefits of travel to the rich. A poor +peripatetic is hardly allowed even the humble merit of being honest. + +As I still intended to pursue my journey to Derbyshire, I was advised (at +least till I got further into the country) to take a place in a +post-coach. They told me that the further I got from London, the more +reasonable and humble I should find the people; everything would be +cheaper, and everybody more hospitable. This determined me to go in the +post-coach from Oxford to Birmingham; where Mr. Pointer, of London, had +recommended me to a Mr. Fothergill, a merchant there; and from thence to +continue my journey on foot. + +Monday I spent at Oxford, but rather unpleasantly, on account of my +headache. Mr. Maud himself came to fetch me, as he had promised he +would, but I found myself unable to go with him. + +Notwithstanding this, in the afternoon, I took a little walk up a hill, +which lies to the north of Oxford; and from the top of which I could see +the whole city; which did not, however, appear to me nearly so beautiful +and magnificent as Mr. Maud had described it to me during our last +night’s walk. + +The colleges are mostly in the Gothic taste, and much overloaded with +ornaments, and built with grey stone; which, perhaps, while it is new, +looks pretty well, but it has now the most dingy, dirty, and disgusting +appearance that you can possibly imagine. + +Only one of these colleges is in the modern style. The houses of the +city are in general ordinary, in some parts quite miserable; in some +streets they are only one story high, and have shingled roofs. To me +Oxford seemed to have but a dull and gloomy look; and I cannot but wonder +how it ever came to be considered as so fine a city, and next to London. + +I remained on the hill, on which there was a flight of steps that led to +a subterraneous walk, till sunset, and saw several students walking here, +who wore their black gowns over their coloured clothes, and flat square +hats, just like those I had seen worn by the Eton scholars. This is the +general dress of all those who belong to the universities, with the +exception of a very trifling difference, by which persons of high birth +and rank are distinguished. + +It is probably on account of these gowns that the members of the +university are called Gownsmen, to distinguish them from the citizens, +who are called Townsmen; and when you want to mention all the inhabitants +of Oxford together, you say, “the whole town, Gownsmen and Townsmen.” + +This dress, I must own, pleases me far beyond the boots, cockades, and +other frippery, of many of our students. Nor am I less delighted with +the better behaviour and conduct which, in general, does so much credit +to the students of Oxford. + +The next morning Mr. Maud, according to his promise, showed me some of +the things most worthy of notice in Oxford. And first he took me to his +own room in his own college, which was on the ground floor, very low and +dark, and resembled a cell, at least as much as a place of study. The +name of this college is Corpus Christi. He next conducted me to All +Souls’ College, a very elegant building, in which the chapel is +particularly beautiful. Mr. Maud also showed me, over the altar here, a +fine painting of Mengs, at the sight of which he showed far more +sensibility than I thought him possessed of. He said that +notwithstanding he saw that painting almost daily, he never saw it +without being much affected. + +The painting represented Mary Magdalene when she first suddenly sees +Jesus standing before her, and falls at His feet. And in her countenance +pain, joy, grief, in short almost all the strongest of our passions, are +expressed in so masterly a manner, that no man of true taste was ever +tired of contemplating it; the longer it is looked at the more it is +admired. He now also showed me the library of this college, which is +provided with a gallery round the top, and the whole is most admirably +regulated and arranged. Among other things, I here saw a description of +Oxford, with plates to illustrate it: and I cannot help observing what, +though trite, is true, that all these places look much better, and are +far more beautiful on paper, than they appeared to me to be as I looked +at them where they actually stand. + +Afterwards Mr. Maud conducted me to the Bodleian Library, which is not +unworthy of being compared to the Vatican at Rome; and next to the +building which is called the Theatre, and where the public orations are +delivered. This is a circular building with a gallery all round it, +which is furnished with benches one above the other, on which the +doctors, masters of arts, and students sit, and directly opposite to each +other are erected two chairs, or pulpits, from which the disputants +harangue and contend. + +Christ Church and Queen’s College are the most modern, and, I think, +indisputably the best built of all the colleges. Balliol College seems +particularly to be distinguished on account of its antiquity, and its +complete Gothic style of building. + +Mr. Maud told me that a good deal of money might be sometimes earned by +preaching at Oxford; for all the members of a certain standing are +obliged in their turn to preach in the church of the university; but many +of them, when it comes to their turn, prefer the procuring a substitute; +and so not unfrequently pay as high as five or six guineas for a sermon. + +Mr. Maud also told me he had been now eighteen years at this university, +and might be made a doctor whenever he chose it: he was a master of arts, +and according to his own account gave lectures in his college on the +classics. He also did the duty and officiated as curate, occasionally, +in some of the neighbouring villages. Going along the street we met the +English poet laureate, Warton, now rather an elderly man; and yet he is +still the fellow of a college. His greatest pleasure next to poetry is, +as Mr. Maud told me, shooting wild ducks. + +Mr. Maud seemed upon the whole to be a most worthy and philanthropic man. +He told me, that where he now officiated the clerk was dead, and had left +a numerous family in the greatest distress; and that he was going to the +place next day, on purpose to try if he could bring about the election of +the son, a lad about sixteen years of age, in the place of his deceased +father, as clerk, to support a necessitous family. + +At the Mitre, the inn where I lodged, there was hardly a minute in which +some students or others did not call, either to drink, or to amuse +themselves in conversation with the daughter of the landlord, who is not +only handsome, but sensible, and well behaved. + +They often spoke to me much in praise of a German, of the name of +Mitchel, at least they pronounced it so, who had for many years rendered +himself famous as a musician. I was rejoiced to hear one of my +countrymen thus praised by the English; and wished to have paid him a +visit, but I had not the good fortune to find him at home. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + _Castleton_, _June_ 30_th_. + +BEFORE I tell you anything of the place where I now am, I will proceed +regularly in my narrative, and so begin now where I left off in my last +letter. On Tuesday afternoon Mr. Maud took me to the different walks +about Oxford, and often remarked, that they were not only the finest in +England, but he believed in Europe. I own I do not think he over-rated +their merit. There is one in particular near the river, and close to +some charming meadows, behind Corpus Christi College, which may fairly +challenge the world. + +We here seated ourselves on a bench, and Mr. Maud drew a review from his +pocket, where, among other things, a German book of Professor Beckman’s +was reviewed and applauded. Mr. Maud seemed, on this occasion, to show +some respect for German literature. At length we parted. He went to +fill up the vacancy of the clerk’s place at Dorchester, and I to the +Mitre, to prepare for my departure from Oxford, which took place on +Wednesday morning at three o’clock, in the post-coach. Considering the +pleasing, if not kind attention shown me here, I own I thought my bill +not unreasonable; though to be sure, it made a great hole in my little +purse. + +Within this coach there was another young man, who, though dressed in +black, yet to judge from the cockade in his hat might be an officer. The +outside was quite full with soldiers and their wives. The women of the +lower class here wear a kind of short cloak made of red cloth: but women +in general, from the highest to the lowest, wear hats, which differ from +each other less in fashion than they do in fineness. + +Fashion is so generally attended to among the English women, that the +poorest maid-servant is careful to be in the fashion. They seem to be +particularly so in their hats or bonnets, which they all wear: and they +are in my opinion far more becoming than the very unsightly hoods and +caps which our German women, of the rank of citizens, wear. There is, +through all ranks here, not near so great a distinction between high and +low as there is in Germany. + +I had, during this day, a little headache; which rendered me more silent +and reserved to my company than is either usual in England or natural to +me. The English are taxed, perhaps too hastily, with being shy and +distant to strangers. I do not think this was, even formerly, their true +character; or that any such sentiment is conveyed in Virgil’s +“_Hospitibus feros_.” Be this as it may, the case was here reversed. +The Englishman here spoke to me several times in a very friendly manner, +while I testified not the least inclination to enter into conversation +with him. + +He however owned afterwards that it was this very apparent reserve of +mine that first gained me his good opinion. + +He said he had studied physic, but with no immediate view of practising +it. His intention, he said, was to go to the East Indies, and there, +first, to try his fortune as an officer. And he was now going to +Birmingham, merely to take leave of his three sisters, whom he much +loved, and who were at school there. + +I endeavoured to merit his confidence by telling him in my turn of my +journey on foot through England; and by relating to him a few of the most +remarkable of my adventures. He frankly told me he thought it was +venturing a great deal, yet he applauded the design of my journey, and +did not severely censure my plan. On my asking him why Englishmen, who +were so remarkable for acting up to their own notions and ideas, did not, +now and then, merely to see life in every point of view, travel on foot. +“Oh,” said he, “we are too rich, too lazy, and too proud.” + +And most true it is, that the poorest Englishman one sees, is prouder and +better pleased to expose himself to the danger of having his neck broken +on the outside of a stage, than to walk any considerable distance, though +he might walk ever so much at his ease. I own I was frightened and +distressed when I saw the women, where we occasionally stopped, get down +from the top of the coach. One of them was actually once in much danger +of a terrible fall from the roof, because, just as she was going to +alight, the horses all at once unexpectedly went on. From Oxford to +Birmingham is sixty-two miles; but all that was to be seen between the +two places was entirely lost to me, for I was again mewed up in a +post-coach, and driven along with such velocity from one place to +another, that I seemed to myself as doing nothing less than travelling. + +My companion, however, made me amends in some measure for this loss. He +seemed to be an exceedingly good-tempered and intelligent man; and I felt +in this short time a prepossession in his favour one does not easily form +for an ordinary person. This, I flattered myself, was also the case with +him, and it would mortify me not a little to think he had quite forgotten +me, as I am sure I shall never forget him. + +Just as we had been sometime eagerly conversing about Shakespeare, we +arrived, without either of us having thought of it, at +Stratford-upon-Avon, Shakespeare’s birthplace, where our coach stopped, +that being the end of one stage. We were still two-and-twenty miles from +Birmingham, and ninety-four from London. I need not tell you what our +feelings were, on thus setting our feet on classic ground. + +It was here that perhaps the greatest genius nature ever produced was +born. Here he first lisped his native tongue; here first conceived the +embryos of those compositions which were afterwards to charm a listening +world; and on these plains the young Hercules first played. And here, +too, in this lowly hut, with a few friends, he happily spent the decline +of his life, after having retired from the great theatre of that busy +world whose manners he had so faithfully portrayed. + +The river Avon is here pretty broad, and a row of neat though humble +cottages, only one storey high, with shingled roofs, are ranged all along +its banks. These houses impressed me strongly with the idea of +patriarchal simplicity and content. + +We went to see Shakespeare’s own house, which, of all the houses at +Stratford I think is now the worst, and one that made the least +appearance. Yet, who would not be proud to be the owner of it? There +now however lived in it only two old people, who show it to strangers for +a trifle, and what little they earn thus is their chief income. + +Shakespeare’s chair, in which he used to sit before the door, was so cut +to pieces that it hardly looked like a chair; for every one that travels +through Stratford cuts off a chip as a remembrance, which he carefully +preserves, and deems a precious relic, I also cut myself a piece of it, +but reverencing Shakespeare as I do, I am almost ashamed to own to you it +was so small that I have lost it, and therefore you will not see it on my +return. + +As we travelled, I observed every spot with attention, fancying to myself +that such or such a spot might be the place where such a genius as +Shakespeare’s first dawned, and received those first impressions from +surrounding nature which are so strongly marked in all his works. The +first impressions of childhood, I knew, were strong and permanent; of +course I made sure of seeing here some images at least of the wonderful +conceptions of this wonderful man. But my imagination misled me, and I +was disappointed; for I saw nothing in the country thereabouts at all +striking, or in any respect particularly beautiful. It was not at all +wild and romantic; but rather distinguished for an air of neatness and +simplicity. + +We arrived at Birmingham about three o’clock in the afternoon. I had +already paid sixteen shillings at Stratford for my place in the coach +from Oxford to Birmingham. At Oxford they had not asked anything of me, +and indeed you are not obliged in general in England, as you are in +Germany, to pay your passage beforehand. + +My companion and myself alighted at the inn where the coach stopped. We +parted with some reluctance, and I was obliged to promise him that, on my +return to London, I would certainly call on him, for which purpose he +gave me his address. His father was Dr. Wilson, a celebrated author in +his particular style of writing. + +I now inquired for the house of Mr. Fothergill, to whom I was +recommended, and I was readily directed to it, but had the misfortune to +learn, at the same time, that this very Mr. Fothergill had died about +eight days before. As, therefore, under these circumstances, my +recommendation to him was likely to be but of little use, I had the less +desire to tarry long at Birmingham, and so, without staying a minute +longer, I immediately inquired the road to Derby, and left Birmingham. +Of this famous manufacturing town, therefore, I can give you no account. + +The road from Birmingham onwards is not very agreeable, being in general +uncommonly sandy. Yet the same evening I reached a little place called +Sutton, where everything, however, appeared to be too grand for me to +hope to obtain lodgings in it, till quite at the end of it I came to a +small inn with the sign of the Swan, under which was written Aulton, +brickmaker. + +This seemed to have something in it that suited me, and therefore I +boldly went into it; and when in I did not immediately, as heretofore, +inquire if I could stay all night there, but asked for a pint of ale. I +own I felt myself disheartened by their calling me nothing but master, +and by their showing me into the kitchen, where the landlady was sitting +at a table and complaining much of the toothache. The compassion I +expressed for her on this account, as a stranger, seemed soon to +recommend me to her favour, and she herself asked me if I would not stay +the night there? To this I most readily assented; and thus I was again +happy in a lodging for another night. + +The company I here met with consisted of a female chimney-sweeper and her +children, who, on my sitting down in the kitchen, soon drank to my +health, and began a conversation with me and the landlady. + +She related to us her history, which I am not ashamed to own I thought +not uninteresting. She had married early, but had the hard luck to be +soon deprived of her husband, by his being pressed as a soldier. She +neither saw nor heard of him for many years, so concluded he was dead. +Thus destitute, she lived seven years as a servant in Ireland, without +any one’s knowing that she was married. During this time her husband, +who was a chimney-sweeper, came back to England and settled at Lichfield, +resumed his old trade, and did well in it. As soon as he was in good +circumstances, he everywhere made inquiry for his wife, and at last found +out where she was, and immediately fetched her from Ireland. There +surely is something pleasing in this constancy of affection in a +chimney-sweeper. She told us, with tears in her eyes, in what a style of +grandeur he had conducted her into Lichfield; and how, in honour to her, +he made a splendid feast on the occasion. At this same Lichfield, which +is only two miles from Sutton, and through which she said the road lay +which I was to travel to-morrow, she still lived with this same excellent +husband, where they were noted for their industry, where everybody +respected them, and where, though in the lowest sphere, they are passing +through life neither uselessly nor unhappily. + +The landlady, during her absence, told me as in confidence, that this +chimney-sweeper’s husband, as meanly as I might fancy she now appeared, +was worth a thousand pounds, and that without reckoning in their plate +and furniture, that he always wore his silver watch, and that when he +passed through Sutton, and lodged there, he paid like a nobleman. + +She further remarked that the wife was indeed rather low-lived; but that +the husband was one of the best-behaved, politest, and civilest men in +the world. I had myself taken notice that this same dingy companion of +mine had something singularly coarse and vulgar in her pronunciation. +The word old, for example, she sounded like auld. In other respects, I +had not yet remarked any striking variety or difference from the +pronunciation of Oxford or London. + +To-morrow the chimney-sweeper, said she, her husband, would not be at +home, but if I came back by the way of Lichfield, she would take the +liberty to request the honour of a visit, and to this end she told me her +name and the place of her abode. + +At night the rest of the family, a son and daughter of the landlady, came +home, and paid all possible attention to their sick mother. I supped +with the family, and they here behaved to me as if we had already lived +many years together. + +Happening to mention that I was, if not a scholar, yet a student, the son +told me there was at Sutton a celebrated grammar-school, where the +school-master received two hundred pounds a year settled salary, besides +the income arising from the scholars. + +And this was only in a village. I thought, and not without some shame +and sorrow, of our grammar-schools in Germany, and the miserable pay of +the masters. + +When I paid my reckoning the next morning, I observed the uncommon +difference here and at Windsor, Nettlebed, and Oxford. At Oxford I was +obliged to pay for my supper, bed, and breakfast at least three +shillings, and one to the waiter. I here paid for my supper, bed, and +breakfast only one shilling, and to the daughter, whom I was to consider +as chambermaid, fourpence; for which she very civilly thanked me, and +gave me a written recommendation to an inn at Lichfield, where I should +be well lodged, as the people in Lichfield were, in general, she said, +very proud. This written recommendation was a masterpiece of +orthography, and showed that in England, as well as elsewhere, there are +people who write entirely from the ear, and as they pronounce. In +English, however, it seems to look particularly odd, but perhaps that may +be the case in all languages that are not native. + +I took leave here, as one does of good friends, with a certain promise +that on my return I would certainly call on them again. + +At noon I got to Lichfield, an old-fashioned town with narrow dirty +streets, where for the first time I saw round panes of glass in the +windows. The place to mime wore an unfriendly appearance; I therefore +made no use of my recommendation, but went straight through, and only +bought some bread at a baker’s, which I took along with me. + +At night I reached Burton, where the famous Burton ale is brewed. By +this time I felt myself pretty well tired, and therefore proposed to stay +the night here. But my courage failed me, and I dropped the resolution +immediately on my entering the town. The houses and everything else +seemed to wear as grand an appearance, almost, as if I had been still in +London. And yet the manners of some of its inhabitants were so +thoroughly rustic and rude, that I saw them actually pointing at me with +their fingers as a foreigner. And now, to complete my chagrin and +mortification, I came to a long street, where everybody on both sides of +the way were at their doors, and actually made me run the gauntlet +through their inquiring looks. Some even hissed at me as I passed along. +All my arguments to induce me to pluck up my courage, such as the +certainty that I should never see these people again nor they me, were of +no use. Burton became odious and almost insupportable to me; and the +street appeared as long and tired me as much, as if I had walked a mile. +This strongly-marked contemptuous treatment of a stranger, who was +travelling through their country merely from the respect he bore it, I +experienced nowhere but at Burton. + +How happy did I feel when I again found myself out of their town, +although at that moment I did not know where I should find a lodging for +the night, and was, besides, excessively tired. But I pursued my +journey, and still kept in the road to Derby, along a footpath which I +knew to be right. It led across a very pleasant mead, the hedges of +which were separated by stiles, over which I was often obliged to +clamber. When I had walked some distance without meeting with an inn on +the road, and it had already begun to be dark, I at last sat me down near +a small toll-house, or a turnpike-gate, in order to rest myself, and also +to see whether the man at the turnpike could and would lodge me. + +After I had sat here a considerable time, a farmer came riding by, and +asked me where I wanted to go? I told him I was so tired that I could go +no farther. On this the good-natured and truly hospitable man, of his +own accord and without the least distrust, offered to take me behind him +on his horse and carry me to a neighbouring inn, where he said I might +stay all night. + +The horse was a tall one, and I could not easily get up. The +turnpike-man, who appeared to be quite decrepid and infirm, on this came +out. I took it for granted, however, that he who appeared to have hardly +sufficient strength to support himself could not help me. This poor +looking, feeble old man, however, took hold of me with one arm, and +lifted me with a single jerk upon the horse so quick and so alertly that +it quite astonished me. + +And now I trotted on with my charming farmer, who did not ask me one +single impertinent question, but set me down quietly at the inn, and +immediately rode away to his own village, which lay to the left. + +This inn was called the Bear, and not improperly; for the landlord went +about and growled at his people just like a bear, so that at first I +expected no favourable reception. I endeavoured to gentle him a little +by asking for a mug of ale, and once or twice drinking to him. This +succeeded; he soon became so very civil and conversable, that I began to +think him quite a pleasant fellow. This device I had learnt of the +“Vicar of Wakefield,” who always made his hosts affable by inviting them +to drink with him. It was an expedient that suited me also in another +point of view, as the strong ale of England did not at all agree with me. + +This innkeeper called me sir; and he made his people lay a separate table +for himself and me; for he said he could see plainly I was a gentleman. + +In our chat, we talked much of George the Second, who appeared to be his +favourite king, much more so than George the Third. And among others +things, we talked of the battle at Dettingen, of which he knew many +particulars. I was obliged also in my turn to tell him stories of our +great King of Prussia, and his numerous armies, and also what sheep sold +for in Prussia. After we had been thus talking some time, chiefly on +political matters, he all at once asked me if I could blow the French +horn? This he supposed I could do, only because I came from Germany; for +he said he remembered, when he was a boy, a German had once stopped at +the inn with his parents who blew the French horn extremely well. He +therefore fancied this was a talent peculiar to the Germans. + +I removed this error, and we resumed our political topics, while his +children and servants at some distance listened with great respect to our +conversation. + +Thus I again spent a very agreeable evening; and when I had breakfasted +in the morning, my bill was not more than it had been at Sutton. I at +length reached the common before Derby on Friday morning. The air was +mild, and I seemed to feel myself uncommonly cheerful and happy. About +noon the romantic part of the country began to open upon me. I came to a +lofty eminence, where all at once I saw a boundless prospect of hills +before me, behind which fresh hills seemed always to arise, and to be +infinite. + +The ground now seemed undulatory, and to rise and fall like waves; when +at the summit of the rise I seemed to be first raised aloft, and had an +extensive view all around me, and the next moment, when I went down the +hill, I lost it. + +In the afternoon I saw Derby in the vale before me, and I was now an +hundred and twenty-six miles from London. Derby is but a small, and not +very considerable town. It was market-day when I got there, and I was +obliged to pass through a crowd of people: but there was here no such +odious curiosity, no offensive staring, as at Burton. At this place too +I took notice that I began to be always civilly bowed to by the children +of the villages through which I passed. + +From Derby to the baths of Matlock, which is one of the most romantic +situations, it was still fifteen miles. On my way thither, I came to a +long and extensive village, which I believe was called Duffield. They +here at least did not show me into the kitchen, but into the parlour; and +I dined on cold victuals. + +The prints and pictures which I have generally seen at these inns are, I +think, almost always prints of the royal family, oftentimes in a group, +where the king, as the father of the family, assembles his children +around him; or else I have found a map of London, and not seldom the +portrait of the King of Prussia; I have met with it several times. You +also sometimes see some of the droll prints of Hogarth. The heat being +now very great, I several times in this village heard the commiserating +exclamation of “Good God Almighty!” by which the people expressed their +pity for me, as being a poor foot passenger. + +At night I again stopped at an inn on the road, about five miles from +Matlock. I could easily have reached Matlock, but I wished rather to +reserve the first view of the country till the next day than to get there +when it was dark. + +But I was not equally fortunate in this inn, as in the two former. The +kitchen was full of farmers, among whom I could not distinguish the +landlord, whose health I should otherwise immediately have drank. It is +true I heard a country girl who was also in the kitchen, as often as she +drank say, “Your health, gentlemen all!” But I do not know how it was, I +forgot to drink any one’s health, which I afterwards found was taken much +amiss. The landlord drank twice to my health sneeringly, as if to +reprimand me for my incivility; and then began to join the rest in +ridiculing me, who almost pointed at me with their fingers. I was thus +obliged for a time to serve the farmers as a laughing-stock, till at +length one of them compassionately said, “Nay, nay, we must do him no +harm, for he is a stranger.” The landlord, I suppose, to excuse himself, +as if he thought he had perhaps before gone too far said, “Ay, God forbid +we should hurt any stranger,” and ceased his ridicule; but when I was +going to drink his health, he slighted and refused my attention, and told +me, with a sneer, all I had to do was to seat myself in the +chimney-corner, and not trouble myself about the rest of the world. The +landlady seemed to pity me, and so she led me into another room where I +could be alone, saying, “What wicked people!” + +I left this unfriendly roof early the next morning, and now quickly +proceeded to Matlock. + +The extent of my journey I had now resolved should be the great cavern +near Castleton, in the high Peak of Derbyshire. It was about twenty +miles beyond Matlock. + +The country here had quite a different appearance from that at Windsor +and Richmond. Instead of green meadows and pleasant hills, I now saw +barren mountains and lofty rocks; instead of fine living hedges, the +fields and pasture lands here were fenced with a wall of grey stone; and +of this very same stone, which is here everywhere to be found in plenty, +all the houses are built in a very uniform and patriarchal manner, +inasmuch as the rough stones are almost without any preparation placed +one upon another, and compose four walls, so that in case of necessity, a +man might here without much trouble build himself a house. At Derby the +houses seem to be built of the same stone. + +The situation of Matlock itself surpassed every idea I had formed of it. +On the right were some elegant houses for the bathing company, and lesser +cottages suspended like birds’ nests in a high rock; to the left, deep in +the bottom, there was a fine bold river, which was almost hid from the +eye by a majestic arch formed by high trees, which hung over it. A +prodigious stone wall extended itself above a mile along its border, and +all along there is a singularly romantic and beautiful secret walk, +sheltered and adorned by many beautiful shrubs. + +The steep rock was covered at the top with green bushes, and now and then +a sheep, or a cow, separated from the grazing flock, came to the edge of +the precipice, and peeped over it. + +I have got, in Milton’s “Paradise Lost,” which I am reading thoroughly +through, just to the part where he describes Paradise, when I arrived +here and the following passage, which I read at the brink of the river, +had a most striking and pleasing effect on me. The landscape here +described was as exactly similar to that I saw before me, as if the poet +had taken it from hence + + “—delicious Paradise, + Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, + As with a rural mound, the champion head + Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides + With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, + Access denied.”—_Book_ IV. v. 132. + +From Matlock Baths you go over Matlock Bridge, to the little town of +Matlock itself, which, in reality, scarcely deserves the name of a +village, as it consists of but a few and miserable houses. There is +here, on account of the baths, a number of horses and carriages, and a +great thoroughfare. From hence I came through some villages to a small +town of the name of Bakewell. The whole country in this part is hilly +and romantic. Often my way led me, by small passes, over astonishing +eminences, where, in the deep below me, I saw a few huts or cottages +lying. The fencing of the fields with grey stone gave the whole a wild +and not very promising appearance. The hills were in general not wooded, +but naked and barren; and you saw the flocks at a distance grazing on +their summit. + +As I was coming through one of the villages, I heard a great farmer’s boy +eagerly ask another if he did not think I was a Frenchman. It seemed as +if he had been waiting some time to see the wonder; for, he spoke as +though his wish was now accomplished. + +When I was past Bakewell, a place far inferior to Derby, I came by the +side of a broad river, to a small eminence, where a fine cultivated field +lay before me. This field, all at once, made an indescribable and very +pleasing impression on me, which at first, I could not account for; till +I recollected having seen, in my childhood, near the village where I was +educated, a situation strikingly similar to that now before me here in +England. + +This field, as if it had been in Germany, was not enclosed with hedges, +but every spot in it was uninterruptedly diversified with all kinds of +crops and growths of different green and yellowish colours, which gave +the whole a most pleasing effect; but besides this large field, the +general view of the country, and a thousand other little circumstances +which I cannot now particularly enumerate, served to bring back to my +recollection the years of my youth. + +Here I rested myself a while, and when I was going on again I thought of +the place of my residence, on all my acquaintances, and not a little on +you, my dearest friend, and imagined what you would think and say, if you +were to see your friend thus wandering here all alone, totally unknown, +and in a foreign land. And at that moment I first seriously felt the +idea of distance, and the thought that I was now in England, so very far +from all I loved, or who loved me, produced in me such sensations as I +have not often felt. + +It was perhaps the same with you, my dearest friend, when on our journey +to Hamburg we drove from Perlsbeg, to your birthplace, the village of +Boberow; where, among the farmers, you again found your own playmates, +one of whom was now become the bailiff of the place. On your asking them +whether they knew you, one and all of them answered so heartily, “O, yes, +yes—why, your are Master Frederic.” The pedantic school-master, you will +remember, was not so frank. He expressed himself in the stiff town +phrase of, “He had not the honour of knowing you, as during your +residence in that village, when a child, he had not been _in loco_.” + +I now came through a little place of the name of Ashford, and wished to +reach the small village of Wardlow, which was only three miles distant, +when two men came after me, at a distance, whom I had already seen at +Matlock, who called to me to wait for them. These were the only foot +passengers since Mr. Maud, who had offered to walk with me. + +The one was a saddler, and wore a short brown jacket and an apron, with a +round hat. The other was very decently dressed, but a very silent man, +whereas the saddler was quite talkative. + +I listened with astonishment when I heard him begin to speak of Homer, of +Horace, and of Virgil; and still more when he quoted several passages, by +memory, from each of these authors, pronouncing the words, and laying his +emphasis, with as much propriety as I could possibly have expected, had +he been educated at Cambridge or at Oxford. He advised me not to go to +Wardlow, where I should find bad accommodations, but rather a few miles +to Tideswell, where he lived. This name is, by a singular abbreviation, +pronounced Tidsel, the same as Birmingham is called by the common people +Brummidgeham. + +We halted at a small ale-house on the road-side, where the saddler +stopped to drink and talk, and from whence he was in no haste to depart. +He had the generosity and honour, however, to pay my share of the +reckoning, because, as he said, he had brought me hither. + +At no great distance from the house we came to a rising ground, where my +philosophical saddler made me observe a prospect, which was perhaps the +only one of the kind in England. Below us was a hollow, not unlike a +huge kettle, hollowed out of the surrounding mass of earth; and at the +bottom of it a little valley, where the green meadow was divided by a +small rivulet, that ran in serpentine windings, its banks graced with the +most inviting walks; behind a small winding, there is just seen a house +where one of the most distinguished inhabitants of this happy vale, a +great philosopher, lives retired, dedicating almost all his time to his +favourite studies. He has transplanted a number of foreign plants into +his grounds. My guide fell into almost a poetic rapture as he pointed +out to me the beauties of this vale, while our third companion, who grew +tired, became impatient at our tediousness. + +We were now led by a steep road to the vale, through which we passed, and +then ascended again among the hills on the other side. + +Not far from Tideswell our third companion left us, as he lived in a +neighbouring place. As we now at length saw Tideswell lying before us in +the vale, the saddler began to give me an account of his family, adding, +by way of episode, that he never quarrelled with his wife, nor had ever +once threatened her with his fist, much less, ever lifted it against her. +For his own sake, he said, he never called her names, nor gave her the +lie. I must here observe, that it is the greatest offence you can give +any one in England to say to him, _you lie_. + +To be called a _liar_ is a still greater affront, and you _are a damned +liar_, is the very acme of vulgar abuse. + +Just as in Germany, no one will bear the name of a _scoundrel_, or +_knave_, or as in all quarrels, the bestowing such epithets on our +adversary is the signal for fighting, so the term of a _liar_ in England +is the most offensive, and is always resented by blows. A man would +never forgive himself, nor be forgiven, who could bear to be called a +_liar_. + +Our Jackey in London once looked at me with astonishment, on my happening +to say to him in a joke, you _are a liar_. I assure you I had much to do +before I could pacify him. + +If one may form a judgment of the character of the whole nation, from +such little circumstances as this, I must say this rooted hatred of the +word liar appears to me to be no bad trait in the English. + +But to return to my travelling companion, who further told me that he was +obliged to earn his livelihood, at some distance from home, and that he +was now returning for the first time, for these two months, to his +family. + +He showed me a row of trees near the town which he said his father had +planted, and which, therefore, he never could look at but with emotion, +though he passed them often as he went backwards and forwards on his +little journeys to and from his birthplace. His father, he added, had +once been a rich man, but had expended all his fortune to support one +son. Unfortunately for himself as well as his family, his father had +gone to America and left the rest of his children poor, notwithstanding +which, his memory was still dear to him, and he was always affected by +the sight of these trees. + +Tideswell consists of two rows of low houses, built of rough grey stone. +My guide, immediately on our entrance into the place, bade me take notice +of the church, which was very handsome, and notwithstanding its age, had +still some pretensions to be considered as an edifice built in the modern +taste. + +He now asked me whether he should show me to a great inn or to a cheap +one, and as I preferred the latter, he went with me himself to a small +public-house, and very particularly recommended me to their care as his +fellow-traveller, and a clever man not without learning. + +The people here also endeavoured to accommodate me most magnificently, +and for this purpose gave me some toasted cheese, which was Cheshire +cheese roasted and half melted at the fire. This, in England it seems, +is reckoned good eating, but, unfortunately for me, I could not touch a +bit of it; I therefore invited my landlord to partake of it, and he +indeed seemed to feast on it. As I neither drank brandy nor ale, he told +me I lived far too sparingly for a foot traveller; he wondered how I had +strength to walk so well and so far. + +I avail myself of this opportunity to observe that the English innkeepers +are in general great ale drinkers, and for this reason most of them are +gross and corpulent; in particular they are plump and rosy in their +faces. I once heard it said of one of them, that the extravasated claret +in his phiz might well remind one, as Falstaff says of Bardolph, of +hell-fire. + +The next morning my landlady did me the honour to drink coffee with me, +but helped me very sparingly to milk and sugar. It was Sunday, and I +went with my landlord to a barber, on whose shop was written “Shaving for +a penny.” There were a great many inhabitants assembled there, who took +me for a gentleman, on account, I suppose, of my hat, which I had bought +in London for a guinea, and which they all admired. I considered this as +a proof that pomp and finery had not yet become general thus far from +London. + +You frequently find in England, at many of the houses of the common +people, printed papers, with sundry apt and good moral maxims and rules +fastened against the room door, just as we find them in Germany. On such +wretched paper some of the most delightful and the finest sentiments may +be read, such as would do honour to any writer of any country. + +For instance, I read among other things this golden rule on such an +ordinary printed paper stuck against a room door, “Make no comparisons;” +and if you consider how many quarrels, and how much mischief arise in the +world from odious comparisons of the merits of one with the merits of +another, the most delightful lessons of morality are contained in the few +words of the above-mentioned rule. + +A man to whom I gave sixpence conducted me out of the town to the road +leading to Castleton, which was close to a wall of stones confusedly +heaped one upon another, as I have before described. The whole country +was hilly and rough, and the ground covered with brown heath. Here and +there some sheep were feeding. + +I made a little digression to a hill to the left, where I had a prospect +awfully beautiful, composed almost entirely of naked rocks, far and near, +among which, those that were entirely covered with black heath made a +most tremendous appearance. + +I was now a hundred and seventy miles from London, when I ascended one of +the highest hills, and all at once perceived a beautiful vale below me, +which was traversed by rivers and brooks and enclosed on all sides by +hills. In this vale lay Castleton, a small town with low houses, which +takes its name from an old castle, whose ruins are still to be seen here. + +A narrow path, which wound itself down the side of the rock, led me +through the vale into the street of Castleton, where I soon found an inn, +and also soon dined. After dinner I made the best of my way to the +cavern. + +A little rivulet, which runs through the middle of the town, led me to +its entrance. + +I stood here a few moments, full of wonder and astonishment at the +amazing height of the steep rock before me, covered on each side with ivy +and other shrubs. At its summit are the decayed wall and towers of an +ancient castle which formerly stood on this rock, and at its foot the +monstrous aperture or mouth to the entrance of the cavern, where it is +pitch dark when one looks down even at mid-day. + +As I was standing here full of admiration, I perceived, at the entrance +of the cavern, a man of a rude and rough appearance, who asked me if I +wished to see the Peak, and the echo strongly reverberated his coarse +voice. + +Answering as I did in the affirmative, he next further asked me if I +should want to be carried to the other side of the stream, telling me at +the same time what the sum would be which I must pay for it. + +This man had, along with his black stringy hair and his dirty and +tattered clothes, such a singularly wild and infernal look, that he +actually struck me as a real Charon. His voice, and the questions he +asked me, were not of a kind to remove this notion, so that, far from its +requiring any effort of imagination, I found it not easy to avoid +believing that, at length, I had actually reached Avernus, was about to +cross Acheron, and to be ferried by Charon. + +I had no sooner agreed to his demand, than he told me all I had to do was +boldly to follow him, and thus we entered the cavern. + +To the left, in the entrance of the cavern, lay the trunk of a tree that +had been cut down, on which several of the boys of the town were playing. + +Our way seemed to be altogether on a descent, though not steep, so that +the light which came in at the mouth of the cavern near the entrance +gradually forsook us, and when we had gone forward a few steps farther, I +was astonished by a sight which, of all other, I here the least expected. +I perceived to the right, in the hollow of the cavern, a whole +subterranean village, where the inhabitants, on account of its being +Sunday, were resting from their work, and with happy and cheerful looks +were sitting at the doors of their huts along with their children. + +We had scarcely passed these small subterranean houses when I perceived a +number of large wheels, on which on week days these human moles, the +inhabitants of the cavern, make ropes. + +I fancied I here saw the wheel of Ixion, and the incessant labour of the +Danaides. + +The opening through which the light came seemed, as we descended, every +moment to become less and less, and the darkness at every step to +increase, till at length only a few rays appeared, as if darting through +a crevice, and just tinging the small clouds of smoke which, at dusk, +raised themselves to the mouth of the cavern. + +This gradual growth, or increase of darkness, awakens in a contemplative +mind a soft melancholy. As you go down the gentle descent of the cavern, +you can hardly help fancying the moment is come when, without pain or +grief, the thread of life is about to be snapped; and that you are now +going thus quietly to that land of peace where trouble is no more. + +At length the great cavern in the rock closed itself, in the same manner +as heaven and earth seem to join each other, when we came to a little +door, where an old woman came out of one of the huts, and brought two +candles, of which we each took one. + +My guide now opened the door, which completely shut out the faint +glimmering of light, which, till then, it was still possible to perceive, +and led us to the inmost centre of this dreary temple of old Chaos and +Night, as if, till now, we had only been traversing the outer courts. +The rock was here so low, that we were obliged to stoop very much for +some few steps in order to get through; but how great was my +astonishment, when we had passed this narrow passage and again stood +upright, at once to perceive, as well as the feeble light of our candles +would permit, the amazing length, breadth, and height of the cavern; +compared to which the monstrous opening through which we had already +passed was nothing! + +After we had wandered here more than an hour, as beneath a dark and dusky +sky, on a level, sandy soil, the rock gradually lowered itself, and we +suddenly found ourselves on the edge of a broad river, which, from the +glimmering of our candles amid the total darkness, suggested sundry +interesting reflections. To the side of this river a small boat was +moored, with some straw in its bottom. Into this boat my guide desired +me to step, and lay myself down in it quite flat; because, as he said, +towards the middle of the river, the rock would almost touch the water. + +When I had laid myself down as directed, he himself jumped into the +water, and drew the boat after him. + +All around us was one still, solemn, and deadly silence; and as the boat +advanced, the rock seemed to stoop, and come nearer and nearer to us, +till at length it nearly touched my face; and as I lay, I could hardly +hold the candle upright. I seemed to myself to be in a coffin rather +than in a boat, as I had no room to stir hand or foot till we had passed +this frightful strait, and the rock rose again on the other side, where +my guide once more handed me ashore. + +The cavern was now become, all at once, broad and high: and then suddenly +it was again low and narrow. + +I observed on both sides as we passed along a prodigious number of great +and small petrified plants and animals, which, however, we could not +examine, unless we had been disposed to spend some days in the cavern. + +And thus we arrived at the opposite side, at the second river or stream, +which, however, was not so broad as the first, as one may see across it +to the other side; across this stream my guide carried me on his +shoulders, because there was here no boat to carry us over. + +From thence we only went a few steps farther, when we came to a very +small piece of water which extended itself lengthways, and led us to the +end of the cavern. + +The path along the edge of this water was wet and slippery, and sometimes +so very narrow, that one can hardly set one foot before the other. + +Notwithstanding, I wandered with pleasure on this subterranean shore, and +was regaling myself with the interesting contemplation of all these +various wonderful objects, in this land of darkness and shadow of death, +when, all at once, something like music at a distance sounded in mine +ears. + +I instantly stopped, full of astonishment, and eagerly asked my guide +what this might mean? He answered, “Only have patience, and you shall +soon see.” + +But as we advanced, the sounds of harmony seemed to die away; the noise +became weaker and weaker; and at length it seemed to sink into a gentle +hissing or hum, like distant drops of falling rain. + +And how great was my amazement when, ere long, I actually saw and felt a +violent shower of rain falling from the rock, as from a thick cloud, +whose drops, which now fell on our candles, had caused that same +melancholy sound which I had heard at a distance. + +This was what is here called a mizzling rain, which fell from the ceiling +or roof of the cavern, through the veins of the rock. + +We did not dare to approach too near with our candles, as they might +easily have been extinguished by the falling drops; and so we perhaps +have been forced to seek our way back in vain. + +We continued our march therefore along the side of the water, and often +saw on the sides large apertures in the rock, which seemed to be new or +subordinate caverns, all which we passed without looking into. At length +my guide prepared me for one of the finest sights we had yet seen, which +we should now soon behold. + +And we had hardly gone on a few paces, when we entered what might easily +have been taken for a majestic temple, with lofty arches, supported by +beautiful pillars, formed by the plastic hand of some ingenious artist. + +This subterranean temple, in the structure of which no human hand had +borne a part, appeared to me at that moment to surpass all the most +stupendous buildings in the world, in point of regularity, magnificence, +and beauty. + +Full of admiration and reverence, here, even in the inmost recesses of +nature, I saw the majesty of the Creator displayed; and before I quitted +this temple, here, in this solemn silence and holy gloom, I thought it +would be a becoming act of true religion to adore, as I cordially did, +the God of nature. + +We now drew near the end of our journey. Our faithful companion, the +water, guided us through the remainder of the cavern, where the rock is +arched for the last time, and then sinks till it touches the water, which +here forms a semicircle, and thus the cavern closes, so that no mortal +can go one step farther. + +My guide here again jumped into the water, swam a little way under the +rock, and then came back quite wet, to show me that it was impossible to +go any further, unless this rock could be blown up with powder, and a +second cavern opened. I now thought all we had to do was to return the +nearest way; but there were new difficulties still to encounter, and new +scenes to behold still more beautiful than any I had yet seen. + +My guide now turned and went back towards the left, where I followed him +through a large opening in the rock. + +And here he first asked me if I could determine to creep a considerable +distance through the rock, where it nearly touched the ground. Having +consented to do so, he told me I had only to follow him, warning me at +the same time to take great care of my candle. + +Thus we crept on our hands and feet, on the wet and muddy ground, through +the opening in the rock, which was often scarcely large enough for us to +get through with our bodies. + +When at length we had got through this troublesome passage, I saw in the +cavern a steep hill, which was so high that it seemed to lose itself as +in a cloud, in the summit of the rock. + +This hill was so wet and slippery, that as soon as I attempted to ascend, +I fell down. My guide, however, took hold of my hand and told me I had +only resolutely to follow him. + +We now ascended such an amazing height, and there were such precipices on +each side, that it makes me giddy even now when I think of it. + +When we at length had gained the summit, where the hill seemed to lose +itself in the rock, my guide placed me where I could stand firm, and told +me to stay there quietly. In the meantime he himself went down the hill +with his candle, and left me alone. + +I lost sight of him for some moments, but at length I perceived, not him, +indeed, but his candle, quite in the bottom, from whence it seemed to +shine like a bright and twinkling star. + +After I had enjoyed this indescribably beautiful sight for some time, my +guide came back, and carried me safely down the hill again on his +shoulders. And as I now stood below, he went up and let his candle shine +again through an opening of the rock, while I covered mine with my hand; +and it was now as if on a dark night a bright star shone down upon me, a +sight which, in point of beauty, far surpassed all that I had ever seen. + +Our journey was now ended, and we returned, not without trouble and +difficulty, through the narrow passage. We again entered the temple we +had a short time before left; again heard the pattering of the rain, +which sounded as rain when we were near it, but which at a distance +seemed a sonorous, dull, and melancholy hum; and now again we returned +across the quiet streams through the capacious entrance of the cavern to +the little door, where we had before taken our leave of daylight, which, +after so long a darkness, we now again hailed with joy. + +Before my guide opened the door, he told me I should now have a view of a +sight that would surpass all the foregoing. I found that he was in the +right, for when he had only half opened the door, it really seemed as if +I was looking into Elysium. + +The day seemed to be gradually breaking, and night and darkness to have +vanished. At a distance you again just saw the smoke of the cottages, +and then the cottages themselves; and as we ascended we saw the boys +still playing around the hewn trunk, till at length the reddish purple +stripes in the sky faintly appeared through the mouth of the hole; yet, +just as we came out, the sun was setting in the west. + +Thus had I spent nearly the whole afternoon till it was quite evening in +the cavern; and when I looked at myself, I was, as to my dress, not much +unlike my guide; my shoes scarcely hung to my feet, they were so soft and +so torn by walking so long on the damp sand, and the hard pointed stones. + +I paid no more than half-a-crown for seeing all that I had seen, with a +trifle to my guide; for it seems he does not get the half-crown, but is +obliged to account for it to his master, who lives very comfortably on +the revenue he derives from this cavern, and is able to keep a man to +show it to strangers. + +When I came home I sent for a shoemaker. There was one who lived just +opposite; and he immediately came to examine my shoes. He told me he +could not sufficiently wonder at the badness of the work, for they were +shoes I had brought from Germany. Notwithstanding this, he undertook, as +he had no new ones ready, to mend them for me as well as he could. This +led me to make a very agreeable acquaintance with this shoemaker; for +when I expressed to him my admiration of the cavern, it pleased him +greatly that in so insignificant a place as Castleton there should be +anything which could inspire people with astonishment, who came from such +distant countries; and thereupon offered to take a walk with me, to show +me, at no great distance, the famous mountain called Mam Tor, which is +reckoned among the things of most note in Derbyshire. + +This mountain is covered with verdure on its summit and sides; but at the +end it is a steep precipice. The middle part does not, like other +mountains, consist of rock, but of a loose earth, which gives way, and +either rolls from the top of the precipice in little pieces, or tears +itself loose in large masses, and falls with a thundering crash, thus +forming a hill on its side which is continually increasing. + +From these circumstances probably is derived the name of Mam Tor, which +literally signifies Mother Hill; for Tor is either an abbreviation of, or +the old word for, Tower, and means not only a lofty building, but any +eminence. Mam is a familiar term, that obtains in all languages, for +Mother; and this mountain, like a mother, produces several other small +hills. + +The inhabitants here have a superstitious notion that this mountain, +notwithstanding its daily loss, never decreases, but always keeps its +own, and remains the same. + +My companion told me a shocking history of an inhabitant of Castleton who +laid a wager that he would ascend this steep precipice. + +As the lower part is not quite so steep, but rather slanting upwards, he +could get good hold in this soft loose earth, and clambered up, without +looking round. At length he had gained more than half the ascent, and +was just at the part where it projects and overlooks its basis. From +this astonishing height the unfortunate man cast down his eyes, whilst +the threatening point of the rock hung over him, with tottering masses of +earth. + +He trembled all over, and was just going to relinquish his hold, not +daring to move backwards or forwards; in this manner he hung for some +time between heaven and earth, surrounded by despair. However, his +sinews would bear it no longer, and therefore, in an effort of despair, +he once more collected all his strength and got hold of first one loose +stone, and then another, all of which would have failed him had he not +immediately caught hold of another. By these means, however, at length, +to his own, as well as to the astonishment of all the spectators, he +avoided almost instant and certain death, safely gained the summit of the +hill, and won his wager. + +I trembled as I heard this relation, seeing the mountain and the +precipice in question so near to me, I could not help figuring to myself +the man clambering up it. + +Not far from hence is Elden Hole, a cavity or pit, or hole in the earth, +of such a monstrous depth, that if you throw in a pebble stone, and lay +your ear to the edge of the hole, you hear it falling for a long time. + +As soon as it comes to the bottom it emits a sound as if some one were +uttering a loud sigh. The first noise it makes on its being first parted +with affects the ear like a subterranean thunder. This rumbling or +thundering noise continues for some time, and then decreases as the stone +falls against first one hard rock and then another at a greater and a +greater depth, and at length, when it has for some time been falling, the +noise stops with a kind of whizzing or a hissing murmur. The people have +also a world of superstitious stories relating to this place, one of +which is that some person once threw into it a goose, which appeared +again at two miles’ distance in the great cavern I have already +mentioned, quite stripped of its feathers. But I will not stuff my +letters with many of these fabulous histories. + +They reckon that they have in Derbyshire seven wonders of nature, of +which this Elden Hole, the hill of Mam Tor, and the great cavern I have +been at are the principal. + +The remaining four wonders are Pool’s Hole, which has some resemblance to +this that I have seen, as I am told, for I did not see it; next St. +Anne’s Well, where there are two springs which rise close to each other, +the one of which is boiling hot, the other as cold as ice; the next is +Tide’s Well, not far from the town of that name through which I passed. +It is a spring or well, which in general flows or runs underground +imperceptibly, and then all at once rushes forth with a mighty rumbling +or subterranean noise, which is said to have something musical in it, and +overflows its banks; lastly Chatsworth, a palace or seat belonging to the +Dukes of Devonshire, at the foot of a mountain whose summit is covered +with eternal snow, and therefore always gives one the idea of winter, at +the same time that the most delightful spring blooms at its foot. I can +give you no further description of these latter wonders, as I only know +them by the account given me by others. They were the subjects with +which my guide, the shoemaker, entertained me during our walk. + +While this man was showing me everything within his knowledge that he +thought most interesting, he often expressed his admiration on thinking +how much of the world I had already seen; and the idea excited in him so +lively a desire to travel, that I had much to do to reason him out of it. +He could not help talking of it the whole evening, and again and again +protested that, had he not got a wife and child, he would set off in the +morning at daybreak along with me; for here in Castleton there is but +little to be earned by the hardest labour or even genius. Provisions are +not cheap, and in short, there is no scope for exertion. This honest man +was not yet thirty. + +As we returned, he wished yet to show me the lead mines, but it was too +late. Yet, late as it was, he mended my shoes the same evening, and I +must do him the justice to add in a very masterly manner. + +But I am sorry to tell you I have brought a cough from the cavern that +does not at all please me; indeed, it occasions me no little pain, which +makes me suppose that one must needs breathe a very unwholesome damp air +in this cavern. But then, were that the case, I do not comprehend how my +friend Charon should have held it out so long and so well as he has. + +This morning I was up very early in order to view the ruins, and to climb +a high hill alongside of them. The ruins are directly over the mouth of +the hole on the hill, which extends itself some distance over the cavern +beyond the ruins, and always widens, though here in front it is so narrow +that the building takes up the whole. + +From the ruins all around there is nothing but steep rock, so that there +is no access to it but from the town, where a crooked path from the foot +of the hill is hewn in the rock, but is also prodigiously steep. + +The spot on which the ruins stand is now all overgrown with nettles and +thistles. Formerly, it is said, there was a bridge from this mountain to +the opposite one, of which one may yet discover some traces, as in the +vale which divides the two rocks we still find the remains of some of the +arches on which the bridge rested. This vale, which lies at the back of +the ruins and probably over the cavern, is called the Cave’s Way, and is +one of the greatest thoroughfares to the town. In the part at which, at +some distance, it begins to descend between these two mountains, its +descent is so gentle that one is not at all tired in going down it; but +if you should happen to miss the way between the two rocks and continue +on the heights, you are in great danger of falling from the rock, which +every moment becomes steeper and steeper. + +The mountain on which the ruins stand is everywhere rocky. The one on +the left of it, which is separated by the vale, is perfectly verdant and +fertile, and on its summit the pasture hands are divided by stones, piled +up in the form of a wall. This green mountain is at least three times as +high as that on which the ruins stand. + +I began to clamber up the green mountain, which is also pretty steep; and +when I had got more than half way up without having once looked back, I +was nearly in the same situation as the adventurer who clambered up Mam +Tor Hill, for when I looked round, I found my eye had not been trained to +view, unmoved, so prodigious a height. Castleton with the surrounding +country lay below me like a map, the roofs of the houses seemed almost +close to the ground, and the mountain with the ruins itself seemed to be +lying at my feet. + +I grew giddy at the prospect, and it required all my reason to convince +me that I was in no danger, and that, at all events, I could only +scramble down the green turf in the same manner as I had got up. At +length I seemed to grow accustomed to this view till it really gave me +pleasure, and I now climbed quite to the summit and walked over the +meadows, and at length reached the way which gradually descends between +the two mountains. + +At the top of the green mountain I met with some neat country girls, who +were milking their cows, and coming this same way with their milk-pails +on their heads. + +This little rural party formed a beautiful group when some of them with +their milk-pails took shelter, as it began to rain, under a part of the +rock, beneath which they sat down on natural stone benches, and there, +with pastoral innocence and glee, talked and laughed till the shower was +over. + +My way led me into the town, from whence I now write, and which I intend +leaving in order to begin my journey back to London, but I think I shall +not now pursue quite the same road. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + _Northampton_. + +WHEN I took my leave of the honest shoemaker in Castleton, who would have +rejoiced to have accompanied me, I resolved to return, not by Tideswell, +but by Wardlow, which is nearer. + +I there found but one single inn, and in it only a landlady, who told me +that her husband was at work in the lead mines, and that the cavern at +Castleton, and all that I had yet seen, was nothing to be compared to +these lead mines. Her husband, she said, would be happy to show them to +me. + +When I came to offer to pay her for my dinner she made some difficulty +about it, because, as I had neither drank ale or brandy, by the selling +of which she chiefly made her livelihood, she said she could not well +make out my bill. On this I called for a mug of ale (which I did not +drink) in order to enable me the better to settle her reckoning. + +At this same time I saw my innkeeper of Tideswell, who, however, had not, +like me, come on foot, but prancing proudly on horseback. + +As I proceeded, and saw the hills rise before me, which were still fresh +in my memory, having so recently become acquainted with them in my +journey thither, I was just reading the passage in Milton relative to the +creation, in which the Angel describes to Adam how the water subsided, +and + + “Immediately the mountains huge appear + Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave + Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky.” + + _Book VII._, 1. 285. + +It seemed to me, while reading this passage, as if everything around me +were in the act of creating, and the mountains themselves appeared to +emerge or rise, so animated was the scene. + +I had felt something not very unlike this on my journey hither, as I was +sitting opposite to a hill, whose top was covered with trees, and was +reading in Milton the sublime description of the combat of the angels, +where the fallen angels are made, with but little regard to chronology, +to attack their antagonists with artillery and cannon, as if it had been +a battle on earth of the present age. The better angels, however, defend +themselves against their antagonists by each seizing on some hill by the +tufts on its summit, tearing them up by the root, and thus bearing them +in their hands to fling them at their enemy: + + “—they ran, they flew, + From their foundation loos’ning to and fro, + They pluck’d the seated hills with all their load, + Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops + Uplifting bore them in their hands—.” + + Book _VI._, 1. 642. + +I seemed to fancy to myself that I actually saw an angel there standing +and plucking up a hill before me and shaking it in the air. + +When I came to the last village before I got to Matlock, as it was now +evening and dark, I determined to spend the night there, and inquired for +an inn, which, I was told, was at the end of the village; and so on I +walked, and kept walking till near midnight before I found this same inn. +The place seemed to have no end. On my journey to Castleton I must +either not have passed through this village or not have noticed its +length. Much tired, and not a little indisposed, I at length arrived at +the inn, where I sat myself down by the fire in the kitchen, and asked +for something to eat. As they told me I could not have a bed here, I +replied I absolutely would not be driven away, for that if nothing better +could be had I would sit all night by the fire. This I actually prepared +to do, and laid my head on the table in order to sleep. + +When the people in the kitchen thought that I was asleep, I heard them +taking about me, and guessing who or what I might be. One woman alone +seemed to take my part, and said, “I daresay he is a well-bred +gentleman;” another scouted that notion, merely because, as she said, “I +had come on foot;” and “depend on it,” said she, “he is some poor +travelling creature!” My ears yet ring with the contemptuous tone with +which she uttered, “poor travelling creature!” It seems to express all +the wretchedness of one who neither has house nor home—a vagabond and +outcast of society. + +At last, when these unfeeling people saw that I was determined, at all +events, to stay there all night, they gave me a bed, but not till I had +long given up all hopes of getting one. And in the morning, when they +asked me a shilling for it, I gave them half-a-crown, adding, with +something of an air, that I would have no change. This I did, though +perhaps foolishly, to show them that I was not quite “_a poor creature_.” +And now they took leave of me with great civility and many excuses; and I +now continued my journey much at my ease. + +When I had passed Matlock I did not go again towards Derby, but took the +road to the left towards Nottingham. Here the hills gradually +disappeared; and my journey now lay through meadow grounds and cultivated +fields. + +I must here inform you that the word _Peake_, or _Pike_, in old English +signifies a point or summit. The _Peak_ of Derbyshire, therefore, means +that part of the country which is hilly, or where the mountains are +highest. + +Towards noon I again came to an eminence, where I found but one single +solitary inn, which had a singular inscription on its sign. It was in +rhyme, and I remember only that it ended with these words, “Refresh, and +then go on.” “Entertainment for man and horse.” This I have seen on +several signs, but the most common, at all the lesser ale-houses, is, “A. +B. C. or D. dealer in foreign spirituous liquors.” + +I dined here on cold meat and salad. This, or else eggs and salad, was +my usual supper, and my dinner too, at the inns at which I stopped. It +was but seldom that I had the good fortune to get anything hot. The +salad, for which they brought me all the ingredients, I was always +obliged to dress myself. This, I believe, is always done in England. + +The road was now tolerably pleasant, but the country seemed here to be +uniform and unvaried, even to dulness. However, it was a very fine +evening, and as I passed through a village just before sunset several +people who met me accosted me with a phrase which, at first, I thought +odd, but which I now think civil, if not polite. As if I could possibly +want information on such a point as they passed me, they all very +courteously told me, “’Twas a fine evening,” or “A pleasant night.” + +I have also often met people who as they passed me obligingly and kindly +asked: “How do you do?” To which unexpected question from total +strangers I have now learned to answer, “Pretty well, I thank you; how do +you do?” This manner of address must needs appear very singular to a +foreigner, who is all at once asked by a person whom he has never seen +before how he does. + +After I had passed through this village I came to a green field, at the +side of which I met with an ale-house. The mistress was sitting at the +window. I asked her if I could stay the night there. She said “No!” and +shut the window in my face. + +This unmannerliness recalled to my recollection the many receptions of +this kind to which I have now so often been exposed, and I could not +forbear uttering aloud my indignation at the inhospitality of the +English. This harsh sentiment I soon corrected, however, as I walked on, +by recollecting, and placing in the opposite scale, the unbounded and +unequalled generosity of this nation, and also the many acts of real and +substantial kindness which I had myself experienced in it. + +I at last came to another inn, where there was written on the sign: “The +Navigation Inn,” because it is the depot, or storehouse, of the colliers +of the Trent. + +A rougher or ruder kind of people I never saw than these colliers, whom I +here met assembled in the kitchen, and in whose company I was obliged to +spend the evening. + +Their language, their dress, their manners were, all of them, singularly +vulgar and disagreeable, and their expressions still more so, for they +hardly spoke a word, without adding “a G—d d— me” to it, and thus +cursing, quarrelling, drinking, singing, and fighting, they seemed to be +pleased, and to enjoy the evening. I must do them the justice to add, +that none of them, however, at all molested me or did me any harm. On +the contrary, every one again and again drank my health, and I took care +not to forget to drink theirs in return. The treatment of my host at +Matlock was still fresh in my memory, and so, as often as I drank, I +never omitted saying, “Your healths, gentlemen all!” + +When two Englishmen quarrel, the fray is carried on, and decided, rather +by actions than by words; though loud and boisterous, they do not say +much, and frequently repeat the same thing over and over again, always +clinching it with an additional “G— d— you!” Their anger seems to +overpower their utterance, and can vent only by coming to blows. + +The landlady, who sat in the kitchen along with all this goodly company, +was nevertheless well dressed, and a remarkably well-looking woman. As +soon as I had supped I hastened to bed, but could not sleep; my quondam +companions, the colliers, made such a noise the whole night through. In +the morning, when I got up, there was not cue to be seen nor heard. + +I was now only a few miles from Nottingham, where I arrived towards noon. + +This, of all the towns I have yet seen, except London, seemed to me to be +one of the best, and is undoubtedly the cleanest. Everything here wore a +modern appearance, and a large place in the centre, scarcely yielded to a +London square in point of beauty. + +From the town a charming footpath leads you across the meadows to the +high-road, where there is a bridge over the Trent. Not far from this +bridge was an inn, where I dined, though I could get nothing but +bread-and-butter, of which I desired to have a toast made. + +Nottingham lies high, and made a beautiful appearance at a distance, with +its neat high houses, red roofs, and its lofty steeples. I have not seen +so fine a prospect in any other town in England. + +I now came through several villages, as Ruddington, Bradmore, and Buny, +to Castol, where I stayed all night. + +This whole afternoon I heard the ringing of bells in many of the +villages. Probably it is some holiday which they thus celebrate. It was +cloudy weather, and I felt myself not at all well, and in these +circumstances this ringing discomposed me still more, and made me at +length quite low-spirited and melancholy. + +At Castol there were three inns close to each other, in which, to judge +only from the outside of the houses, little but poverty was to be +expected. In the one at which I at length stopped there was only a +landlady, a sick butcher, and a sick carter, both of whom had come to +stay the night. This assemblage of sick persons gave me the idea of an +hospital, and depressed me still more. I felt some degree of fever, was +very restless all night, and so I kept my bed very late the next morning, +until the woman of the house came and aroused me by saying she had been +uneasy on my account. And now I formed the resolution to go to Leicester +in the post-coach. + +I was now only four miles from Loughborough, a small, and I think, not a +very handsome town, where I arrived late at noon, and dined at the last +inn on the road that leads to Leicester. Here again, far beyond +expectation, the people treated me like a gentleman, and let me dine in +the parlour. + +From Loughborough to Leicester was only ten miles, but the road was sandy +and very unpleasant walking. + +I came through a village called Mountsorrel, which perhaps takes its name +from a little hill at the end of it. As for the rest, it was all one +large plain, all the way to Leicester. + +Towards evening I came to a pleasant meadow just before I got to +Leicester, through which a footpath led me to the town, which made a good +appearance as I viewed it lengthways, and indeed much larger than it +really is. + +I went up a long street before I got to the house from which the +post-coaches set out, and which is also an inn. I here learnt that the +stage was to set out that evening for London, but that the inside was +already full; some places were, however, still left on the outside. + +Being obliged to bestir myself to get back to London, as the time drew +near when the Hamburg captain, with whom I intend to return, had fixed +his departure, I determined to take a place as far as Northampton on the +outside. + +But this ride from Leicester to Northampton I shall remember as long as I +live. + +The coach drove from the yard through a part of the house. The inside +passengers got in in the yard, but we on the outside were obliged to +clamber up in the public street, because we should have had no room for +our heads to pass under the gateway. + +My companions on the top of the coach were a farmer, a young man very +decently dressed, and a blackamoor. + +The getting up alone was at the risk of one’s life, and when I was up I +was obliged to sit just at the corner of the coach, with nothing to hold +by but a sort of little handle fastened on the side. I sat nearest the +wheel, and the moment that we set off I fancied that I saw certain death +await me. All I could do was to take still safer hold of the handle, and +to be more and more careful to preserve my balance. + +The machine now rolled along with prodigious rapidity, over the stones +through the town, and every moment we seemed to fly into the air, so that +it was almost a miracle that we still stuck to the coach and did not +fall. We seemed to be thus on the wing, and to fly, as often as we +passed through a village, or went down a hill. + +At last the being continually in fear of my life became insupportable, +and as we were going up a hill, and consequently proceeding rather slower +than usual, I crept from the top of the coach and got snug into the +basket. + +“O, sir, sir, you will be shaken to death!” said the black, but I +flattered myself he exaggerated the unpleasantness of my post. + +As long as we went up hill it was easy and pleasant. And, having had +little or no sleep the night before, I was almost asleep among the trunks +and the packages; but how was the case altered when we came to go down +hill! then all the trunks and parcels began, as it were, to dance around +me, and everything in the basket seemed to be alive, and I every moment +received from them such violent blows that I thought my last hour was +come. I now found that what the black had told me was no exaggeration, +but all my complaints were useless. I was obliged to suffer this torture +nearly an hour, till we came to another hill again, when quite shaken to +pieces and sadly bruised, I again crept to the top of the coach, and took +possession of my former seat. “Ah, did not I tell you that you would be +shaken to death?” said the black, as I was getting up, but I made him no +reply. Indeed, I was ashamed; and I now write this as a warning to all +strangers to stage-coaches who may happen to take it into their heads, +without being used to it, to take a place on the outside of an English +post-coach, and still more, a place in the basket. + +About midnight we arrived at Harborough, where I could only rest myself a +moment, before we were again called to set off, full drive, through a +number of villages, so that a few hours before daybreak we had reached +Northampton, which is, however, thirty-three miles from Leicester. + +From Harborough to Leicester I had a most dreadful journey, it rained +incessantly; and as before we had been covered with dust, we now were +soaked with rain. My neighbour, the young man who sat next me in the +middle, that my inconveniences might be complete, every now and then fell +asleep; and as, when asleep, he perpetually bolted and rolled against me, +with the whole weight of his body, more than once he was very near +pushing me entirely off my seat. + +We at last reached Northampton, where I immediately went to bed, and have +slept almost till noon. To-morrow morning I intend to continue my +journey to London in some other stage-coach. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + _London_, 15th _July_, 1782. + +THE journey from Northampton to London I can again hardly call a journey, +but rather a perpetual motion, or removal from one place to another, in a +close box; during your conveyance you may, perhaps, if you are in luck, +converse with two or three people shut up along with you. + +But I was not so fortunate, for my three travelling companions were all +farmers, who slept so soundly that even the hearty knocks of the head +with which they often saluted each other, did not awake them. + +Their faces, bloated and discoloured by their copious use of ale and +brandy, looked, as they lay before me, like so many lumps of dead flesh. +When now and then they woke, sheep, in which they all dealt, was the +first and last topic of their conversation. One of the three, however, +differed not a little from the other two; his face was sallow and thin, +his eyes quite sunk and hollow, his long, lank fingers hung quite loose, +and as if detached from his hands. He was, in short, the picture of +avarice and misanthropy. The former he certainly was; for at every stage +he refused to give the coachman the accustomed perquisite, which every +body else paid; and every farthing he was forced to part with, forced a +“G—d d—n” from his heart. As he sat in the coach, he seemed anxious to +shun the light; and so shut up every window that he could come at, except +when now and then I opened them to take a slight view of the charms of +the country through which we seemed to be flying, rather than driving. + +Our road lay through Newport Pagnell, Dunstable, St. Albans, Barnet, to +Islington, or rather to London itself. But these names are all I know of +the different places. + +At Dunstable, if I do not mistake, we breakfasted; and here, as is usual, +everything was paid for in common by all the passengers; as I did not +know this, I ordered coffee separately; however, when it came, the three +farmers also drank of it, and gave me some of their tea. + +They asked me what part of the world I came from; whereas we in Germany +generally inquired what countryman a person is. + +When we had breakfasted, and were again seated in the coach, all the +farmers, the lean one excepted, seemed quite alive again, and now began a +conversation on religion and on politics. + +One of them brought the history of Samson on the carpet, which the +clergyman of his parish, he said, had lately explained, I dare say very +satisfactorily; though this honest farmer still had a great many doubts +about the great gate which Samson carried away, and about the foxes with +the firebrands between their tails. In other respects, however, the man +seemed not to be either uninformed or sceptical. + +They now proceeded to relate to each other various stories, chiefly out +of the Bible; not merely as important facts, but as interesting +narratives, which they would have told and listened to with equal +satisfaction had they met them anywhere else. One of them had only heard +these stories from his minister in the church, not being able to read +them himself. + +The one that sat next to him now began to talk about the Jews of the Old +Testament, and assured us that the present race were all descended from +those old ones. “Ay, and they are all damned to all eternity!” said his +companion, as coolly and as confidently as if at that moment he had seen +them burning in the bottomless pit. + +We now frequently took up fresh passengers, who only rode a short +distance with us, and then got out again. Among others was a woman from +London, whose business was the making of brandy. She entertained us with +a very circumstantial narrative of all the shocking scenes during the +late riot in that city. What particularly struck me was her saying that +she saw a man, opposite to her house, who was so furious, that he stood +on the wall of a house that was already half burnt down, and there, like +a demon, with his own hands pulled down and tossed about the bricks which +the fire had spared, till at length he was shot, and fell back among the +flames. + +At length we arrived at London without any accident, in a hard rain, +about one o’clock. I had been obliged to pay sixteen shillings +beforehand at Northampton, for the sixty miles to London. This the +coachman seemed not to know for certain, and therefore asked me more +earnestly if I was sure I had paid: I assured him I had, and he took my +word. + +I looked like a crazy creature when I arrived in London; notwithstanding +which, Mr. Pointer, with whom I left my trunk, received me in the most +friendly manner, and desired me during dinner to relate to him my +adventures. + +The same evening I called on Mr. Leonhardi, who, as I did not wish to +hire a lodging for the few days I might be obliged to wait for a fair +wind, got me into the Freemasons’ Tavern. And here I have been waiting +these eight days, and the wind still continues contrary for Hambro’; +though I do now most heartily wish for a fair wind, as I can no longer +make any improvement by my stay, since I must keep myself in constant +readiness to embark whenever the wind changes; and therefore I dare go no +great distance. + +Everybody here is now full of the Marquis of Rockingham’s death, and the +change of the ministry in consequence of it. They are much displeased +that Fox has given up his seat; and yet it is singular, they still are +much concerned, and interest themselves for him, as if whatever +interested him were the interest of the nation. On Tuesday there was a +highly important debate in Parliament. Fox was called on to assign the +true reasons of his resignation before the nation. At eleven o’clock the +gallery was so full that nobody could get a place, and the debates only +began at three, and lasted this evening till ten. + +About four Fox came. Every one was full of expectation. He spoke at +first with great vehemence, but it was observed that he gradually became +more and more moderate, and when at length he had vindicated the step he +had taken, and showed it to be, in every point of view, just, wise, and +honourable, he added, with great force and pathos, “and now I stand here +once more as poor as ever I was.” It was impossible to hear such a +speech and such declarations unmoved. + +General Conway then gave his reasons why he did not resign, though he was +of the same political principles as Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke; he was of the +same opinion with them in regard to the independency of America; the more +equal representation of the people in Parliament, and the regulations +necessary in Ireland; but he did not think the present minister, Lord +Shelburne, would act contrary to those principles. As soon as he did, he +should likewise resign, but not before. + +Burke now stood up and made a most elegant though florid speech, in +praise of the late Marquis of Rockingham. As he did not meet with +sufficient attention, and heard much talking and many murmurs, he said, +with much vehemence and a sense of injured merit, “This is not treatment +for so old a member of Parliament as I am, and I will be heard!”—on which +there was immediately a most profound silence. After he had said much +more in praise of Rockingham, he sub-joined, that with regard to General +Conway’s remaining in the ministry, it reminded him of a fable he had +heard in his youth, of a wolf, who, on having clothed himself as a sheep, +was let into the fold by a lamb, who indeed did say to him, “Where did +you get those long nails, and those sharp teeth, mamma?” But +nevertheless let him in; the consequence of which was he murdered the +whole flock. Now with respect to General Conway, it appeared to him, +just as though the lamb certainly did perceive the nails and teeth of the +wolf, but notwithstanding, was so good-tempered to believe that the wolf +would change his nature, and become a lamb. By this, he did not mean to +reflect on Lord Shelburne: only of this he was certain, that the present +administration was a thousand times worse than that under Lord North (who +was present). + +When I heard Mr. Pitt speak for the first time, I was astonished that a +man of so youthful an appearance should stand up at all; but I was still +more astonished to see how, while he spoke, he engaged universal +attention. He seems to me not to be more than one-and-twenty. This same +Pitt is now minister, and even Chancellor of the Exchequer. + +It is shocking to a foreigner, to see what violent satires on men, rather +than on things, daily appear in the newspapers, of which they tell me +there are at least a dozen, if not more, published every day. Some of +them side with the Ministry, and still more I think with the Opposition. +A paper that should be quite impartial, if that were possible, I +apprehend would be deemed so insipid as to find no readers. No longer +ago than yesterday, it was mentioned in one of these newspapers, that +when Fox, who is fallen, saw so young a man as Pitt made the minister, he +exclaimed with Satan, who, in “Paradise Lost,” on perceiving the man +approved by God, called out, “O hateful sight!” + +On Thursday the king went with the usual solemnity to prorogue the +Parliament for a stated time. But I pass this over as a matter that has +already been so often described. + +I have also, during this period, become acquainted with Baron Grothaus, +the famous walker, to whom I had also a letter of recommendation from +Baron Groote of Hambro’. He lives in Chesterfield House, not far from +General Paoli, to whom he has promised to introduce me, if I have time to +call on him again. + +I have suffered much this week from the violent cough I brought with me +from the hole in Derbyshire, so that I could not for some days stir; +during which time Messrs. Schonborn and Leonhardi have visited me very +attentively, and contributed much to my amendment. + +I have been obliged to relate as much about my journey out of London here +as I probably shall in Germany of all England in general. To most people +to whom I give an account of my journey, what I have seen is quite new. +I must, however, here insert a few remarks on the elocution, or manner of +speaking, of this country, which I had forgot before to write to you. + +English eloquence appears to me not to be nearly so capable of so much +variety and diffusion as ours is. Add to this, in their Parliamentary +speeches, in sermons in the pulpit, in the dialogues on the stage; nay, +even in common conversation, their periods at the end of a sentence are +always accompanied by a certain singular uniform fall of the voice, +which, notwithstanding its monotony has in it something so peculiar, and +so difficult, that I defy any foreigner ever completely to acquire it. +Mr. Leonhardi in particular seemed to me, in some passages which he +repeated out of _Hamlet_, to have learnt to sink his voice in the true +English manner; yet any one might know from his speaking that he is not +an Englishman. The English place the accent oftener on the adjectives +than they do on the substantive, which, though undoubtedly the most +significant word in any sentence, has frequently less stress laid on it +than you hear laid on mere epithets. On the stage they pronounce the +syllables and words extremely distinct, so that at the theatres you may +always gain most instruction in English elocution and pronunciation. + +This kingdom is remarkable for running into dialect: even in London they +are said to have one. They say, for example, “it a’nt” instead of “it is +not;” “I don’t know,” for “I do not know;” “I don’t know him,” for “I do +not know him;” the latter of which phrases has often deceived me, as I +mistook a negative for an affirmative. + +The word “sir,” in English, has a great variety of significations. With +the appellation of “sir,” an Englishman addresses his king, his friend, +his foe, his servant, and his dog; he makes use of it when asking a +question politely; and a member of Parliament, merely to fill up a +vacancy, when he happens to be at a loss. “Sir?” in an inquiring tone of +voice, signifies what is your desire? “Sir!” in a humble tone—gracious +Sovereign!—“Sir!” in surly tone, a box on the ear at your service! To a +dog it means a good beating. And in a speech in Parliament, accompanied +by a pause, it signifies, I cannot now recollect what it is I wish to say +farther. + +I do not recollect to have heard any expression repeated oftener than +this, “Never mind it!” A porter one day fell down, and cut his head on +the pavement: “O, never mind it!” said an Englishman who happened to be +passing by. When I had my trunk fetched from the ship in a boat, the +waterman rowed among the boats, and his boy, who stood at the head of his +boat, got a sound drubbing, because the others would not let him pass: +“O, never mind it!” said the old one, and kept rowing on. + +The Germans who have been here any time almost constantly make use of +Anglicisms, such as “_es will nicht thun_” (it will not do), instead of +_es ist nicht hinlänglich_ (it is not sufficient), and many such. Nay, +some even say, “_Ich habe es nicht geminded_” (I did not mind it), +instead of _ich habe mich nicht daran errinnert_, oder _daran gedacht_ (I +did not recollect it, or I did not think of it). + +You can immediately distinguish Englishmen when they speak German, by +their pronunciation according to the English manner; instead of _Ich +befinde mich wohl_, they say _Ich befirmich u’hol_ (I am very well), the +_w_ being as little noticed as _u_ quickly sounded. + +I have often heard, when directing any one in the street, the phrase, “Go +down the street as far as ever you can go, and ask anybody.” Just as we +say, “Every child can direct you.” + +I have already noticed in England they learn to write a much finer hand +than with us. This probably arises from their making use of only one +kind of writing, in which the letters are all so exact that you would +take it for print. + +In general, in speaking, reading, in their expressions, and in writing, +they seem, in England, to have more decided rules than we have. The +lowest man expresses himself in proper phrases, and he who publishes a +book, at least writes correctly, though the matter be ever so ordinary. +In point of style, when they write, they seem to be all of the same +country, profession, rank, and station. + +The printed English sermons are beyond all question the best in the +world; yet I have sometimes heard sad, miserable stuff from their +pulpits. I have been in some churches where the sermons seem to have +been transcribed or compiled from essays and pamphlets; and the motley +composition, after all, very badly put together. It is said that there +are a few in London, by whom some of the English clergy are supposed to +get their sermons made for money. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + _London_, 18th _July_. + +I WRITE to you now for the last time from London; and, what is still +more, from St. Catherine’s, one of the most execrable holes in all this +great city, where I am obliged to stay, because the great ships arrive in +the Thames here, and go from hence, and we shall sail as soon as the wind +changes. This it has just now done, yet still it seems we shall not sail +till to-morrow. To-day therefore I can still relate to you all the +little that I have farther noticed. + +On Monday morning I moved from the Freemasons’ Tavern to a public-house +here, of which the master is a German; and where all the Hambro’ captains +lodge. At the Freemasons’ Tavern, the bill for eight days’ lodging, +breakfast, and dinner came to one guinea and nine shillings and nine +pence. Breakfast, dinner, and coffee were always, with distinction, +reckoned a shilling each. For my lodging I paid only twelve shillings a +week, which was certainly cheap enough. + +At the German’s house in St. Catherine’s, on the contrary, everything is +more reasonable, and you here eat, drink, and lodge for half-a-guinea a +week. Notwithstanding, however, I would not advise anybody who wishes to +see London, to lodge here long; for St. Catherine’s is one of the most +out-of-the-way and inconvenient places in the whole town. + +He who lands here first sees this miserable, narrow, dirty street, and +this mass of ill-built, old, ruinous houses; and of course forms, at +first sight, no very favourable idea of this beautiful and renowned city. + +From Bullstrode Street, or Cavendish Square, to St. Catherine’s, is +little less than half a day’s journey. Nevertheless, Mr. Schonborn has +daily visited me since I have lived here; and I have always walked back +half-way with him. This evening we took leave of each other near St. +Paul’s, and this separation cost me not a few tears. + +I have had a very agreeable visit this afternoon from Mr. Hansen, one of +the assistants to the “Zollner book for all ranks of men” who brought me +a letter from the Rev. Mr. Zollner at Berlin, and just arrived at London +when I was going away. He is going on business to Liverpool. I have +these few days past, for want of better employment, walked through +several parts of London that I had not before seen. Yesterday I +endeavoured to reach the west end of the town; and I walked several +miles, when finding it was grown quite dark, I turned back quite tired, +without having accomplished my end. + +Nothing in London makes so disgusting an appearance to a foreigner, as +the butchers’ shops, especially in the environs of the Tower. Guts and +all the nastiness are thrown into the middle of the street, and cause an +insupportable stench. + +I have forgot to describe the ’Change to you; this beautiful building is +a long square in the centre of which is an open area, where the merchants +assemble. All round, there are covered walks supported by pillars on +which the name of the different commercial nations you may wish to find +are written up, that among the crowd of people you may be able to find +each other. There are also stone benches made under the covered walks, +which after a ramble from St. Catherine’s, for example, hither, are very +convenient to rest yourself. + +On the walls all kinds of handbills are stuck up. Among others I read +one of singular contents. A clergyman exhorted the people not to assent +to the shameful Act of Parliament for the toleration of Catholics, by +suffering their children to their eternal ruin to be instructed and +educated by them; but rather to give him, an orthodox clergyman of the +Church of England, this employ and this emolument. + +In the middle of the area is a stone statue of Charles the Second. As I +sat here on a bench, and gazed on the immense crowds that people London, +I thought that, as to mere dress and outward appearance, these here did +not seem to be materially different from our people at Berlin. + +Near the ’Change is a shop where, for a penny or even a halfpenny only, +you may read as many newspapers as you will. There are always a number +of people about these shops, who run over the paper as they stand, pay +their halfpenny, and then go on. + +Near the ’Change there is a little steeple with a set of bells which have +a charming tone, but they only chime one or two lively tunes, though in +this part of the City you constantly hear bells ringing in your ears. + +It has struck me that in London there is no occasion for any elementary +works or prints, for the instruction of children. One need only lead +them into the City, and show them the things themselves as they really +are. For here it is contrived, as much as possible, to place in view for +the public inspection every production of art, and every effort of +industry. Paintings, mechanisms, curiosities of all kinds, are here +exhibited in the large and light shop windows, in the most advantageous +manner; nor are spectators wanting, who here and there, in the middle of +the street, stand still to observe any curious performance. Such a +street seemed to me to resemble a well regulated cabinet of curiosities. + +But the squares, where the finest houses are, disdain and reject all such +shows and ornaments, which are adapted only to shopkeepers’ houses. The +squares, moreover, are not nearly so crowded or so populous as the +streets and the other parts of the city. There is nearly as much +difference between these squares and the Strand in London, in point of +population and bustle, as there is between Millbank and Fredericksstadt +in Berlin. + +I do not at present recollect anything further, my dear friend, worth +your attention, which I can now write to you, except that everything is +ready for our departure to-morrow. I paid Captain Hilkes, with whom I +came over from Hambro’, four guineas for my passage and my board in the +cabin. But Captain Braunschweig, with whom I am to return, charges me +five guineas; because provisions, he says, are dearer in London than at +Hambro’. I now have related to you all my adventures and all my history +from the time that I took leave of you in the street, my voyage hither +with Captain Hilkes excepted. Of this, all that I think it necessary to +mention is, that, to my great dissatisfaction, it lasted a fortnight, and +three days I was sea-sick. Of my voyage back I will give you a personal +account. And now remember me to Biester, and farewell till I see you +again. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRAVELS IN ENGLAND IN 1782*** + + +******* This file should be named 5249-0.txt or 5249-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/4/5249 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |