[7] Twenty years ago,
we enjoyed the embowered walk of Camberwell Grove, and above all, _Grove
Hill_, the retreat of Dr. John Coakley Lettsom, till his benevolence
overmuch obliged him to part with this delightful residence. Well do we
remember the picturesque effect of Grove Hill, the unostentatious,
casino-like villa, ornamented with classic figures of Liberality, Plenty,
and Flora--and the sheet of water whose surface was broken by a stream from
a dank and moss-crusted fountain in its centre. Then, the high, overarching
grove, and its summit, traditionally said to be the spot where George
Barnwell murdered his uncle, the incident that gave rise to Lillo's
pathetic tragedy. But the march of improvement has extended hither--the
walk can scarcely be traced: still there is abundance of timber, for the
grove has disappeared, and scores of new houses have sprung up with almost
magical effect--and the whole scene reminds us of one of the change-scenes
of a pantomime. The builder's _share_ has turned over nearly every inch of
the ground, and fresh gravel and loose loam remind the philosophical
pedestrian that all is change beneath as well as on the surface.
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