Travels in England in 1782
20th Jun
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 journ
Pa
al 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
I remained nearly two hours, as I could hardly, in less time, satisfy myself with the prospect of the v
iewing them again and again on every side, for I was anx
ass plots in their middle that lay agreeably dispersed and intermixed, with all the huge c
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 al
he steeple of St. Mary, and from the Temple Yard Hills, but how did i
ever faint and imperfect, of such a prospect as I have just been viewing. He who w
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 h
y high, the elevation of the ground on which
of building, appears in some respects to have a great resemblance to St. Paul's in London. At le
edifice, which was made before the church was built, and which suggests some no
iron rail, and it appears a conside
es you as being confined, and it is certain that this beau
piece of ground in the west front of the ch
as it is reckoned one of those that are deemed the largest in
e than a shilling, which I paid in pence and halfpence, accor
nster
t such a one as it ought to be,
the poets' corner, where the monuments and busts of the pri
perceived the statue of Shakespeare, as large as li
t solemn and affecting manner, the end, or the dissolution of all things, is here, with great p
, as it is intimated in the few lines that are inscribed
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 Milt
st, and all t
o once but n
ment here, where he is rep
ctor, have also very distinguished mon
at the entrance of the choir, and exactly opposite to this, at the e
g but marble monuments of great admirals, but which were all too much loaded
; and particularly where the elegant simplicity of the monuments made an elevated and affecting impression on the mind, while a perfect recollection of some
kings are buried, and some other things worth notice in the abbey, I have
cellent 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
ght, to Portsmouth, or to Derbyshire, which is famous for its natural curiositie
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
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