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.
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