Vauxhall Is, Properly Speaking, The Name Of A Little Village In
Which The Garden, Now Almost Exclusively Bearing The Same Name, Is
Situated.
You pay a shilling entrance.
On entering it, I really found, or fancied I found, some resemblance
to our Berlin Vauxhall, if, according to Virgil, I may be permitted
to compare small things with great ones. The walks at least, with
the paintings at the end, and the high trees, which, here and there
form a beautiful grove, or wood, on either side, were so similar to
those of Berlin, that often, as I walked along them, I seemed to
transport myself, in imagination, once more to Berlin, and forgot
for a moment that immense seas, and mountains, and kingdoms now lie
between us. I was the more tempted to indulge in this reverie as I
actually met with several gentlemen, inhabitants of Berlin, in
particular Mr. S - r, and some others, with whom I spent the evening
in the most agreeable manner. Here and there (particularly in one
of the charming woods which art has formed in this garden) you are
pleasingly surprised by the sudden appearance of the statues of the
most renowned English poets and philosophers, such as Milton,
Thomson, and others. But, what gave me most pleasure was the statue
of the German composer Handel, which, on entering the garden, is not
far distant from the orchestra.
This orchestra is among a number of trees situated as in a little
wood, and is an exceedingly handsome one.
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