But, to return to the Circus; it is inconvenient from its
situation, at so great a distance from all the markets, baths,
and places of public entertainment. The only entrance to it,
through Gay-street, is so difficult, steep, and slippery, that in
wet weather, it must be exceedingly dangerous, both for those
that ride in carriages, and those that walk a-foot; and when the
street is covered with snow, as it was for fifteen days
successively this very winter, I don't see how any individual
could go either up or down, without the most imminent hazard of
broken bones. In blowing weather, I am told, most of the houses
in this hill are smothered with smoke, forced down the chimneys,
by the gusts of wind reverberated from the hill behind, which (I
apprehend likewise) must render the atmosphere here more humid
and unwholesome than it is in the square below; for the clouds,
formed by the constant evaporation from the baths and rivers in
the bottom, will, in their ascent this way, be first attracted
and detained by the hill that rises close behind the Circus, and
load the air with a perpetual succession of vapours: this point,
however, may be easily ascertained by means of an hygrometer, or
a paper of salt of tartar exposed to the action of the
atmosphere. The same artist who planned the Circus, has likewise
projected a Crescent; when that is finished, we shall probably
have a Star; and those who are living thirty years hence, may,
perhaps, see all the signs of the Zodiac exhibited in
architecture at Bath. These, however fantastical, are still
designs that denote some ingenuity and knowledge in the
architect; but the rage of building has laid hold on such a
number of adventurers, that one sees new houses starting up in
every out-let and every corner of Bath; contrived without
judgment, executed without solidity, and stuck together with so