_June_ 19_th_, 1780.—Shall I tell you my dreams?—To give an account of my
time is doing, I assure you, but little better. Never did there exist a
more ideal being. A frequent mist hovers before my eyes, and, through
its medium, I see objects so faint and hazy, that both their colours and
forms are apt to delude me. This is a rare confession, say the wise, for
a traveller to make: pretty accounts will such a one give of outlandish
countries: his correspondents must reap great benefit, no doubt, from
such purblind observations. But stop, my good friends; patience a
moment!—I really have not the vanity of pretending to make a single
remark, during the whole of my journey: if — be contented with my
visionary way of gazing, I am perfectly pleased; and shall write away as
freely as Mr. A., Mr. B., Mr. C., and a million others whose letters are
the admiration of the politest circles.
All through Kent did I doze as usual; now and then I opened my eyes to
take in an idea or two of the green, woody country through which I was
passing; then closed them again; transported myself back to my native
hills; thought I led a choir of those I loved best through their shades;
and was happy in the arms of illusion. The sun set before I recovered my
senses enough to discover plainly the variegated slopes near Canterbury,
waving with slender birch-trees, and gilt with a profusion of broom. I
thought myself still in my beloved solitude, but missed the companions of
my slumbers. Where are they?—Behind yon blue hills, perhaps, or t’other
side of that thick forest. My fancy was travelling after these
deserters, till we reached the town; vile enough o’ conscience, and fit
only to be passed in one’s sleep. The moment after I got out of the
carriage, brought me to the cathedral; an old haunt of mine. I had
always venerated its lofty pillars, dim aisles, and mysterious arches.
Last night they were more solemn than ever, and echoed no other sound
than my steps. I strayed about the choir and chapels, till they grew so
dark and dismal, that I was half inclined to be frightened; looked over
my shoulder; thought of spectres that have an awkward trick of syllabling
men’s names in dreary places; and fancied a sepulchral voice exclaiming:
“Worship my toe at Ghent; my ribs at Florence; my skull at Bologna,
Sienna, and Rome. Beware how you neglect this order; for my bones, as
well as my spirit, have the miraculous property of being here, there, and
everywhere.” These injunctions, you may suppose, were received in a
becoming manner, and noted all down in my pocket-book by inspiration (for
I could not see), and hurrying into the open air, I was whirled away in
the dark to Margate. Don’t ask what were my dreams thither:—nothing but
horrors, deep-vaulted tombs, and pale, though lovely figures, extended
upon them; shrill blasts that sung in my ears, and filled me with
sadness, and the recollection of happy hours, fleeting away, perhaps for
ever! I was not sorry, when the bustle of our coming-in dispelled these
phantoms. The change, however, in point of scenery was not calculated to
dissipate my gloom; for the first object in this world that presented
itself, was a vast expanse of sea, just visible by the gleamings of the
moon, bathed in watery clouds; a chill air ruffled the waves. I went to
shiver a few melancholy moments on the shore. How often did I try to
wish away the reality of my separation from those I love, and attempt to
persuade myself it was but a dream!
This morning I found myself more cheerfully disposed, by the queer Dutch
faces with short pipes and ginger-bread complexions that came smirking
and scraping to get us on board their respective vessels; but, as I had a
ship engaged for me before, their invitations were all in vain. The wind
blows fair; and, should it continue of the same mind a few hours longer,
we shall have no cause to complain of our passage. Adieu! Think of me
sometimes. If you write immediately, I shall receive your letter at the
Hague.
It is a bright sunny evening: the sea reflects a thousand glowing
colours, and, in a minute or two, I shall be gliding on its surface.