Nothing inspired me with more veneration and awe than the fine old building St. George’s Church, which, as you come down from the castle, is on your right.  At the sight of it past centuries seemed to revive in my imagination.

But I will see no more of those sights which are shown you by one of those venal praters, who ten times a day, parrot-wise, repeat over the same dull lesson they have got by heart.  The surly fellow, who for a shilling conducted me round the church, had nearly, with his chattering, destroyed the finest impressions.  Henry VIII., Charles I., and Edward IV. are buried here.  After all, this church, both within and without, has a most melancholy and dismal appearance.

They were building at what is called the queen’s palace, and prodigious quantities of materials are provided for that purpose.

I now went down a gentle declivity into the delightful park at Windsor, at the foot of which it looks so sombrous and gloomy that I could hardly help fancying it was some vast old Gothic temple.  This forest certainly, in point of beauty, surpasses everything of the kind you can figure to yourself.  To its own charms, when I saw it, there were added a most pleasing and philosophical solitude, the coolness of an evening breeze, all aided by the soft sounds of music, which, at this distance from the castle, from whence it issued, was inexpressibly sweet.  It threw me into a sort of enthusiastic and pleasing reverie, which made me ample amends for the fatigues, discourtesies, and continued cross accidents I had encountered in the course of the day.

I now left the forest; the clock struck six, and the workmen were going home from their work.

I have forgot to mention the large round tower of the castle, which is also a very ancient building.  The roads that lead to it are all along their sides planted with shrubs; these, being modern and lively, make a pleasing contrast to the fine old mossy walls.  On the top of this tower the flag of Great Britain is usually displayed, which, however, as it was now late in the evening, was taken in.

As I came down from the castle I saw the king driving up to it in a very plain, two-wheeled, open carriage.  The people here were politer than I used to think they were in London, for I did not see a single person, high or low, who did not pull off their hats as their sovereign passed them.

I was now again in Windsor, and found myself, not far from the castle, opposite to a very capital inn, where I saw many officers and several persons of consequence going in and out.  And here at this inn, contrary to all expectation, I was received by the landlord with great civility, and even kindness—­very contrary to the haughty and insolent airs which the upstart at the other, and his jackanapes of a waiter, there thought fit to give themselves.