but very much resembling a private house. As for the rest, there
are generally everywhere about St. James's Park very good houses,
which is a great addition to it. There is also before the
semicircle of the trees just mentioned a large vacant space, where
the soldiers are exercised.

How little this famous park is to be compared with our park at
Berlin, I need not mention. And yet one cannot but form a high idea
of St. James's Park and other public places in London; this arises,
perhaps, from their having been oftener mentioned in romances and
other books than ours have. Even the squares and streets of London
are more noted and better known than many of our principal towns.

But what again greatly compensates for the mediocrity of this park,
is the astonishing number of people who, towards evening in fine
weather, resort here; our finest walks are never so full even in the
midst of summer. The exquisite pleasure of mixing freely with such
a concourse of people, who are for the most part well-dressed and
handsome, I have experienced this evening for the first time.

Before I went to the park I took another walk with my little Jacky,
which did not cost me much fatigue and yet was most uncommonly
interesting. I went down the little street in which I live, to the
Thames nearly at the end of it, towards the left, a few steps led me
to a singularly pretty terrace, planted with trees, on the very
brink of the river.

Here I had the most delightful prospect you can possibly imagine.
Before me was the Thames with all its windings, and the stately
arches of its bridges; Westminster with its venerable abbey to the