Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Miscellaneous.

FOR THE CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE.

NOTES OF A TRAVELLER.

(Continued from page 447.)

June 5, 1828.

This morning, after breakfasting with my English friends at the Bull, I set off to procure lodgings. This I found no very easy matter, being wholly ignorant of the modus operandi of the process, not only as to the fee per week, the proper locality, but how or in what way I should get at them at all—and this, after making several inquiries of persons who I thought should have known. Not having any acquaintances within reach, I resolved to introduce myself to Mrs. M., an extensive dealer in objects of Natural History, who resides in the Strand, and with whom I had done some business in that way by letter, when in America. She received my visit with great courtesy, and kindly sent with me her little nephew, to look out for the windows where "Lodgings to let" were likely to be seen. This, she said, was the only manner she was acquainted with, how to obtain them. We walked but a little way, before we saw in the window of a genteel looking house, the desired notice. After thus easily discovering one place, I resolved to try further; but though we searched in every direction for some distance, we were unsuccessful; and I accordingly, in a kind of despair, engaged the place first noticed, and here I am now writing. When a person takes furnished lodgings, he is commonly provided with a chamber, and a parlour or sitting room, where he takes his breakfast and tea, which are a separate chargedinner is to be procured at the hotels, chop-houses, inns, taverns, and eating-houses, which are to be found in almost every part of this vast metropolis. Being snugly and comfortably, though not elegantly

located, in a central, called here a centrical part of the town, I sallied forth on a tour of general observation. The crowds in the streets were not so multitudinous as I expected. Along Fleet street, the Strand, and Cheapside, the foot passengers are about as great in number, as on the side pavements in our Market street, on market days. The carriages, carts, and other wheeled vehicles in the middle of the street, are far more numerous and noisy than I had ever before witnessed. Some few of the shops are very splendid. The great bookstore of Longman, in Paternoster row a dirty, narrow alley-presents outside but a very meagre and unsightly appearance, though the literary treasures of the interior I was tempted to covet.

How widely different are the impressions made by the same objects, on the minds and feelings of different observers. I had read a great deal of the riches, grandeur, curiosities, and crowds of London; and after the most extravagant accounts were given, it was said that "the half could not be told." For myself, from this day's observation, I saw but little in the outside of London, except its magnitude, which differed very much from any other large city. It is true, there is an unusual bustle in some places, and a certain kind of street noise, and a few old edifices, which are peculiar; but for the most part, the streets are like our own, though far dirtier. They are composed of long lines of low and mean dwellings, intermixed with shops, and tall and neat edifices. There is a multitude of alleys, lanes, or bye-ways, communicating with the principal streets, and which are crowded with inhabitants, that struck me also as remarkable. I speak now of the city, or business part of the town: the region of fashion, or the western end, I have not yet

visited. After bewildering myself repeatedly, in a labyrinth of misshapen streets and houses, and once or twice losing my way altogether in the "wilderness of London," I obtained a pocket map of the city, and experienced but little trouble afterwards. Before coming here, I had been told never to make any inquiries of passengers in the street, lest I might be imposed upon or robbed by a rogue, or be treated uncivilly by a man in the hurry and bustle of his business, or needlessly trouble a stranger like myself. In my necessity, I made frequent essays to-day on this subject; and on other occasions I tried a number of experiments, with the sole view of ascertaining the fact, and I will bear my testimony to the courtesy and kindness of the Londoners-a courtesy far superior to any received, on similar occasions, in the large towns of the United States. As to rogues and pickpockets, I met none; or at least lost nothing by them. It is however much better, when you wish any thing more than a yes or no answer, to inquire of the shopkeepers, who appeared always cheerfully to give any information in their power: yet it often happened to me, that the directions I received, both from passengers and others, was as confused and unintelligible, as the endless mazes of the city itself. They all have such a rapid, broken, roundabout way of telling you, that there is no understanding them.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

the vast building, immense; and, from the appearance of military officers at the several entrances, I did not like to offer the silver bribe I had intended, and which, I understood, would get admission in many places here, which resisted all other means of application. I had not been long surveying the outside of the cathedral, which is exceedingly badly located for effect, before I found that the meeting in the church was over, and the children, in files, were coming out at a side door. I saw most of them pass: each school was preceded by an officer and a banner, on which the name of the school and the number of scholars were emblazoned. Each school had a different uniform, which, in some instances, was to me exceedingly ridiculous. For example, there were little girls in high caps; and little boys in long coats and short breeches. In other cases, however, the dress was neat and appropriate. I now understood what was meant by the blue coat school-the red coat-the black coat-and several other names. Before the whole of the crowd had dispersed, I made an effort to get into the church, and with money succeeded; and thus witnessed the manner in which such exhibitions are got up here; but it would lead me too much into detail, to describe the arrangements I noticed.

St. Paul's I had always looked upon as a wonder of the world, both outside and in: the splendid engravings which I had seen, and the wonderful descriptions which I had read, wrought up my curiosity to the highest pitch, and I must say I have been disappointed. The outside looks vastly better on a picture than in reality: the coal smoke of London has completely disfigured the beauty it must originally have possessed. You may form some idea of the unsightliness of most of the large structures here, which are constructed of white stone or marble, by supposing the bank of the

U. States, in Chesnut street, to be daubed all over with a thin coating of mud and black paint-the white colour of the marble, here and there, towards the top of the building, making its appearance. Such an influence has the smoke of this place on the stone, that in less than a year it becomes wholly discoloured. Yet, notwithstanding all these detractions, St. Paul's will ever be regarded as a vast monument of architectural grandeur. Its stupendous dome, towering above all surrounding objects; its beautiful columns, with Corinthian capitals; and its gigantic statues of the apostles, will always ensure the notice and admiration of the traveller. The first impression it makes is, however, exceedingly unfavourable; and it is only after repeated examination, when the eye becomes familiar with the dirt and smoke which disfigures it, and when a comparison is made between its elevation and that of surrounding objects, that its magnitude and symmetry strike the beholder. The cathedral is surrounded by an iron railing, which separates the church yard from the street. Within this enclosure, in front, there is a statue of Queen Anne, on a high pedestal; her majesty looks a good deal worn and disfigured by time and accident.

After seeing the interior of the Minster at York, that of St. Paul's cannot be very striking to any one. Immediately under the dome, however, the impression felt is sublime. As I stood and gazed on its vastness, I felt as minute as Swift'sGulliver, in a Brobdignaggian palace. Far, very far above, I saw projecting out from the sides, what seemed to me at first to be old and ragged handkerchiefs, fastened upon little sticks. These, however, I found to be tattered flags, the trophies of British valour, on several memorable occasions. The rags taken by the Duke of Marlborough, at the battle of Blenheim, which are here displayed, ex

cited in my mind more of the melancholy than the heroick emotion; and the tattered remnants, won by England during the American Revolutionary war, might well have been hid: they were covered, however, in kindness, by the dust of time and the webs of the spider. How can these things be considered as decorations to a place of religious worship? The rooms of Bridewell prison, would be a much more appropriate place of exhibition. The ceiling of the dome is ornamented with paintings, representing incidents in the life of St. Paul. I could distinguish nothing from the pavement where I stood, excepting that they were disfigured by the shelling off of the wall. The whispering gallery, which is formed by a railing made on the cornice which encircles the lower part of the dome, was to me very interesting; but the accounts I have read of its great effects on loud noises, have been much exaggerated. For example, you are told by travellers that the shutting of the door in the wall, by which you enter, produces a sound like distant thunder, or the roaring of cannon on the field of battle: but it really sounds just like the slamming and echoing of a door: the diameter of the dome here is 100 feet. After leaving the whispering gallery, I ascended through various winding, dark, and dirty passages, to the balcony surrounding the lantern, on the outside. From this I went up, by means of ladders, along with a number of men and women, to the ball on the outside-the ball holds eight persons. Here was a very extensive, though, from my situation, no very agreeable view of London. The towers, the steeples, the monuments, and the bridges over the Thames, looked remarkably well, as it was a clear day. Every thing, of course, appeared very diminutive, particularly the crowds of hu man beings which were hurrying through the streets below. If the

wind had not blown with such terrible violence, I should have been disposed to moralize, as I contemplated the picture of the busy world beneath my feet. A writer in my situation has remarked, "I was looking down upon the habitations of a million of human beings, on a spot where is crowded together more wealth, more splendour, more ingenuity, more worldly wisdom, and, alas! more worldly blindness, poverty, depravity, dishonesty, and wretchedness, than upon any other spot in the whole habitable earth." Descending into the cathedral, I examined the great bell, the clock, the library, the model and trophy room, and the geometrical staircase. On the walls, and on pedestals in the body of the church below, are a considerable number of fine monuments, most of them in honour of military heroes. That of Sir R. Abercrombie,seemed to me the finest. There is also one here in memory of Generals Packenham and Gibbs, who fell in our late war at New Orleans. The tomb of Dr. Johnson was far more interesting to me than all the rest. Surrounded by military and naval heroes, he seemed to me to tower far above them all. Who would not rather have his fame than theirs? All the monuments, except this and those of Sir Joshua Reynolds, of Sir Wm. Jones, and one or two more, are dedicated to those who have excelled in war. I am no Quaker on this subject, but I thought most of these monuments, like the military flags, very unbecoming a place devoted to the gospel of peace.

bour, and money. Even the person who discharges the cannon, or, in other words, who slams the door in the whispering gallery, expects a distinct gratuity for his salute, besides his fee for an admittance into the gallery itself.

After leaving St. Paul's, I went to the annual exhibition of the Royal Academy of Arts, in Somerset house. Here I found an extensive suite of rooms crowded with ladies and gentlemen very well dressed,and all looking exceedingly happy. The paintings were numerous, and some of them were said to be masterly. I was particularly pleased with some models in plaster, of contemplated publick buildings. From the catalogue of the exhibition, which I obtained at the door, the number of paintings, busts, statues, and models, amounted to 1,214. This is certainly a very considerable annual product for the Fine Arts in Britain; for the Academy will not, on this occasion, receive any works which have already been publicly exhibited; and no copies of any kind, except paintings on enamel, and impressions from unpublished medals. Somerset House is a noble building. It covers a piece of ground from the banks of the Thames up to the Strand, 800 feet wide and 500 deep. It is built in the form of a quadrangle, with a large paved court in the centre, ornamented with a bronze cast of the Thames, lying at the foot of a pedestal, on which there is a statue of George III. Its numerous apartments are all occupied by different publick institutions. The front on It is not in surveying the exterior the Thames, is seen to advantage of St. Paul's, that you are impress- from Waterloo bridge, which is the ed with any correct idea of its handsomest bridge that is thrown magnitude; but this is abundantly over this dirty river, sometimes realized as you traverse its long called in poetry the silver Thames. galleries, visit its numerous apart- This bridge is a good deal the subments, mount its interminable ject of London boasting. It is a flights of stairs, and gaze, from plain substantial structure of gradifferent situations, into its vast nite: it has nine arches, and the dome. The whole of this opera- river, where it crosses, is rather tion will cost you much time, la- more than 1,200 feet wide. The

elliptical arches are all of equal size, and the road over them is of course level, in which respect it differs from all the other bridges built over the Thames. The curvature of these arches reminded me of the celebrated marble bridge erected over the Arno at Florence, which unites the advantages of the flattest road way, the greatest water way, with the smallest quantity of stone material; and to determine the curve of which has offered a problem that still occupies the attention of antiquaries, mathematicians and architects. At the toll house there is a contrivance which indicates the number of foot passengers that cross it daily. The turnstile admits but one person at a time, and as it moves round, it touches some machinery, which gives the desired information..

Friday, June 6.—This morning I devoted to the British Museum, a place I had long desired to examine. It is the only publick place in England, as far as I can learn, where fees are not demanded for admission: indeed, so rigid are the officers on this subject, that I was told by one of them, that a man was recently dismissed from their service, for taking a present from one of the visiters. The first room that you enter contains a most splendid display of minerals, and precious stones, cut and carved into a thousand different shapes. The opal, the lumachelli, and the Labrador spar, all remarkable for their beautiful play of pavonine colours-the cornelian, the amethyst, the lapis lazuli, the diamond, and the sapphire, are here in the richest profusion. I saw on the stairs a musk ox, brought from the polar regions by Captain Parry; and some tolerably stuffed skins of the cameleopard from Africa. The collection of shells afforded me a great treat. Among the many rare, beautiful, curious, and costly varieties, I noticed the far famed Cypraea Aurora, or Orange Cowrie; the Orange

[ocr errors]

Admiral, and the Conus Cedo-nulli. But I must not trust myself in a description of the objects of Natural History. The sight of this cabinet of shells suggested the following lines, which may serve to give a little variety to my journal.

Productions fair, of every clime,

In ocean's fruitful bosom nurst,
Ere on the trackless tide of Time,
Proud man and folly floated first.
Scatter'd from Nature's ample store

In coral groves and crystal caves;
Or near the surf-beat sounding shore,
Or deep beneath the swelling waves.
Here, by the toil and skill of man,
Collected and arranged ye lie;
A little portion of that plan

Which decorates immensity.

Oh, where does power or wisdom shine
With brighter or more beauteous rays,
Than in the glorious page divine,

Which Nature opens to our gaze.
Where can we finer touches see,
Than when attentively we look
Upon the glowing imagery

Displayed in Nature's splendid book
Parent of this harmonious whole,

Oh lead me through the mystick road,
Up to its bright and heavenly goal-

"From Nature up to Nature's God."

I hurried away from these wonders of Nature to examine those of art, arranged in another part of the building, and where I did not expect to be in such raptures. The antiquities are very numerous and valuable, and have given to the Museum its principal celebrity. The Elgin marbles, about the expense of which Parliament made such an ado, did not strike me so well as many other articles of ancient sculpture, although they are supposed to have once formed part of the great Parthenon, and to have been executed by Phidias himself. They were obtained by Lord Elgin, during his mission to the Ottoman Porte, and cost £35,000. The Elgin marbles, the Roman and Grecian sculptures, and the Egyptian antiquities, all occupy distinct suites of apartments. In the Grecian and Roman galleries, I saw Fauns and Nymphs, and Satyrs and Centaurs.

« AnteriorContinuar »