availed myself of the circumstance, to induce the family to
disembark and go to London by LAND; and I esteem it a fortunate
circumstance that we did so, the day, for the season, being
uncommonly fine. After we had taken some refreshment, I procured
places in a stage-coach for my mother and sister, and, with the
Doctor, mounted myself on the outside. My father's old-fashioned
notions boggled a little at first to this arrangement, which he
thought somewhat derogatory to his ministerial dignity; but his
scruples were in the end overruled.

The country in this season is, of course, seen to disadvantage, but
still it exhibits beauty enough to convince us what England must be
when in leaf. The old gentleman's admiration of the increasing
signs of what he called civilisation, as we approached London,
became quite eloquent; but the first view of the city from
Blackheath (which, by the bye, is a fine common, surrounded with
villas and handsome houses) overpowered his faculties, and I shall
never forget the impression it made on myself. The sun was declined
towards the horizon; vast masses of dark low-hung clouds were
mingled with the smoky canopy, and the dome of St. Paul's, like the
enormous idol of some terrible deity, throned amidst the smoke of
sacrifices and magnificence, darkness, and mystery, presented
altogether an object of vast sublimity. I felt touched with
reverence, as if I was indeed approaching the city of THE HUMAN
POWERS.

The distant view of Edinburgh is picturesque and romantic, but it
affects a lower class of our associations. It is, compared to that
of London, what the poem of the Seasons is with respect to Paradise
Lost--the castellated descriptions of Walter Scott to the Darkness