Fuseli arrived in the capital of the British Empire early one morning,
before the people were stirring. "When I stood in London," said he, "and
considered that I did not know one soul in all this vast metropolis, I
became suddenly impressed with a sense of forlornness, and burst into a
flood of tears. An incident restored me. I had written a long letter to
my father, giving him an account of my voyage, and expressing my filial
affection--now not weakened by distance--and with this letter in my
hand, I inquired of a rude fellow whom I met, the way to the Post
Office. My foreign accent provoked him to laughter, and as I stood
cursing him in good Shaksperian English, a gentleman kindly directed me
to the object of my inquiry."