I propose to go to-day as far as Richmond; for which place a stage sets out about two o’clock from some inn, not far from the new church in the Strand.  Four guineas, some linen, my English book of the roads, and a map and pocket-book, together with Milton’s Paradise Lost, which I must put in my pocket, compose the whole of my equipage; and I hope to walk very lightly with it.  But it now strikes half-past one, and of course it is time for me to be at the stage.  Farewell!  I will write to you again from Richmond.

CHAPTER VIII.

Richmond, 21st June, 1782.

Yesterday afternoon I had the luxury for the first time of being driven in an English stage.  These coaches are, at least in the eyes of a foreigner, quite elegant, lined in the inside; and with two seats large enough to accommodate six persons; but it must be owned, when the carriage is full, the company are rather crowded.

At the White Hart from whence the coach sets out, there was, at first only an elderly lady who got in; but as we drove along, it was soon filled, and mostly by ladies, there being only one more gentleman and myself.  The conversation of the ladies among themselves, who appeared to be a little acquainted with each other, seemed to me to be but very insipid and tiresome.  All I could do was, I drew out my book of the roads, and marked the way we were going.

Before you well know that you are out of London you are already in Kensington and Hammersmith; because there are all the way houses on both sides, after you are out of the city; just as you may remember the case is with us when you drive from Berlin to Schoneberg; although in point of prospect, houses and streets, the difference, no doubt, is prodigious.

It was a fine day, and there were various delightful prospects on both sides, on which the eye would willingly have dwelt longer, had not our coach rolled on past them, so provokingly quick.  It appeared somewhat singular to me, when at a few miles from London, I saw at a distance a beautiful white house; and perceived on the high road, on which we were driving, a direction post, on which were written these words:  “that great white house at a distance is a boarding-school!”

The man who was with us in the coach pointed out to us the country seats of the lords and great people by which we passed; and entertained us with all kind of stories of robberies which had been committed on travellers, hereabouts; so that the ladies at last began to be rather afraid; on which he began to stand up for the superior honour of the English robbers, when compared with the French:  the former he said robbed only, the latter both robbed and murdered.

Notwithstanding this there are in England another species of villains, who also murder, and that oftentimes for the merest trifle, of which they rob the person murdered.  These are called footpads, and are the lowest class of English rogues; amongst whom in general there reigns something like some regard to character.