Whilst in Prussia poets only speak of the love of country as one of the dearest of all human affections, here there is no man who does not feel, and describe with rapture, how much he loves his country.

On a very gloomy dismal day, just such a one as it ought to be, I went to see Westminster Abbey.

I am very sorry to say that I rejoiced when I once more perceived the towers of Windsor behind me.

I now resolved to go to bed early, with a firm purpose of also rising early the next day to revisit this charming walk for I thought to myself, I have now seen this temple of the modern world imperfectly I have seen it only by moonlight.

A traveller on foot in this country seems to be considered as a sort of wild man or out-of-the way being, who is stared at, pitied, suspected, and shunned by everybody that meets him.

Westminster Abbey, the Tower, a steeple, one church, and then another, presented themselves to our view and we could now plainly distinguish the high round chimneys on the tops of the houses, which yet seemed to us to form an innumerable number of smaller spires, or steeples.

The joining of the whole congregation in prayer has something exceedingly solemn and affecting in it.

In London, before I set out, I had paid one shilling another was now demanded, so that upon the whole, from London to Richmond, the passage in the stage costs just two shillings.

Every view, and every object I studied attentively, by viewing them again and again on every side, for I was anxious to make a lasting impression of it on my imagination.

My landlady, who is only a tailor's widow, reads her Milton and tells me, that her late husband first fell in love with her on this very account: because she read Milton with such proper emphasis.

St. Paul's arose like some huge mountain above the enormous mass of smaller buildings.