The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction - Volume 13, No. 363, March 28, 1829 by Various
page 47 of 54 (87%)
page 47 of 54 (87%)
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--and starting from our metropolis, we love to watch the ebbing of
population, the dwindling from groves of chimneys and worlds of bricks and mortar to tricksy cottages marshalled with the plumb-line, or sprinkled over "farmy fields" facing Macadamized roads, and collecting more dust in one month than would have ransomed all the captive kings of history, sacred or profane. There we love to trace the ramifications of art from the steam and gas chimneys of the metropolis to the quiet dell, in whose seclusion you might imagine yourself a hundred miles from town, were it not for the hum of the great tun that is fretting and working at a distance. On the road you enjoy scenes that are to be found in no printed book. Nay, every sign-board is a study. Those near the town would do honour to the President's pencil; as you advance, they retrograde--and as Art declines, Nature smiles still sweeter and softer in never-ending successions of woods and groves, hills and dales, glassy lakes and pebbly streams, with all the variegated charms of rustic life. But we are getting too _rural_; for our "Suburban Stroll" extended but to Dulwich and back, about four miles south of London. Twenty years since, we remember, the parish of Camberwell (which includes Peckham and Dulwich) was a pleasant village, with several mansions inhabited by citizens of property, who retired hither for air and recreation; now the whole district is crowded with lath and plaster cottages, and sugar-bakers' boxes, which appear well adapted for twelfth-cake kings and queens.[7] Twenty years ago, we enjoyed the embowered walk of Camberwell Grove, and above all, _Grove Hill_, the retreat of Dr. John Coakley Lettsom, till his benevolence overmuch obliged him to part with this delightful residence. Well do we remember the picturesque effect of Grove Hill, the unostentatious, casino-like villa, ornamented with classic figures of Liberality, Plenty, and Flora--and the sheet of water whose surface was broken by a stream from a dank and moss-crusted fountain in its centre. Then, the high, overarching |
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