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.
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