veller's communication with these southern uplands. In front, at the distance of some four miles across the lake, commences its opposite or northern shore; whose whole sweep, from right to left, and from the water's edge to the very summits of the sister hills* that mingle with the horizon in the background, is "black with shade," being a single mighty and continuous forest. Thou art not so dull, having accompanied our description thus far, as now to ask for "Father Thames;" unknowing that the lake before thee embraces the primeval course of that majestic river—yes, even that in which it shall flow, until the Romans of a yet distant age shall have upraised those ponderous banks on either side of the midchannel, between which its waters from that day will ebb and return. But note well, that it is high water with us favoured spectators of this scene; for, at the retreat of the tide, the entire hollow between these hills and the future south bank of the stream, must be a vast marsh, or swamp; parts of which will possibly continue such long after the embankments shall have been completed: nay, we will be so rash as to predict, that this marsh will not be effectually reclaimed, and made habitable for man Highgate and Hampstead. throughout even till about the middle of the far, far distant eighteenth century. We pardon thy next query, gentle friend; for that is, doubtless,-"where is the CITY promised to be displayed? the CAPITAL of the Britannic Belgæ?"-Verily, it may somewhat strain thine optics to discern it: yet, with our assistance, the discovery may not be impracticable. Dost thou not see, beneath an exceedingly diminutive portion of the umbrageous mass that lines yon northern shore, a collection of what at first sight may appear like yellow ant-hills; but which, on attentive inspection, may be perceived in reality to be so many circular huts, whose walls we will conjecture from the distance to be of rough timbers, made comfortably tight in the interstices with clay, and roofed with reeds into elegantly tapering cones? And see, from apertures most curiously contrived at top, the wreaths of smoke, that, rising against the dark foliage in the rear, picture to the envying imagination the culinary employments of the inhabitants, around their centrically disposed hearths within! Yes, Londoner, there is the seat and city of thy primogenitors: and observe, it is populous, for it contains some hundreds of yon artfullyfinished and substantial houses: nay, it is already a place of commercial importance, for there is a fleet lying before it.-A fleet!-Why art thou surprized? The Belge were merchants of repute in their day; and made several voyages in the course of a twelvemonth, along the entire stream of the Thames from their city downwards, and thence southward, along the coast of the island, even to the country of their fathers, Gaul. Dost thou not perceive their numerous ships? their mighty merchantnavy? what! not yet?-be indebted to our better powers of observation once again then. That line of dark spots on the bosom of the stream, is the Belgic fleet, riding gloriously at anchor. But clear thy vision, and thou mayest with little difficulty see a mast arising from each vessel, with a sail attached to it. That sail, we will inform thee, is composed of the skins of beasts, ingeniously sewed together with leathern thongs; the tackle too is of leather; and the vessels themselves, unincumbered with a deck, and many of them capacious enough to carry twenty men with ease, are of a strong rib-work, cased with light timbers, and lined, for full security against the insinuating waters, with the thickest hides. Such, attentive friend, was the Lun-den,* with *For remarks on the true etymology of this word, as derived from the Belgic Lun, a wood, or grove, and Den, or Dun, a town, or fortress, see Longman & Co.'s ORIGINAL "Picture of London," for the present year, page 3. all its civic and trading accompaniments, of the Belgic Britons: its situation "precisely. such as the Belgæ are described to have selected for the advantages of a southern aspect, and of natural strength;" the site being "a bank sloping to the sun's meridian beams, in a wood, or rather forest, of large extent, and thus uniting eligibilities both for a town and a fortress," with a people whose strong-holds are described by Cæsar as rendered such only by those natural circumstances, with the addition of a ditch and earthen rampart.*-Let us now at once transport our attention from this scene, to the existing view from the spot we have hitherto in imagination occupied-LONDON, from Nun-head Hill, in the year 1825.† It is a glorious view!-and the reality was indeed glorious when we witnessed it, tinted as it was with the light of "morning's prime," and Nature in all her freshness adding her associations to the imposing dignity in which the first of cities rose before us. Nearly the entire outline of the grandest of protestant churches, * Vide the work just alluded to, page 4. Our Artist, notwithstanding the interest and grandeur of the scene from this hill, has preferred that which presents itself from Greenwich, on account of the noble breadth of water conspicuous from the celebrated Observatory: and it must be admitted, that as regards this feature, (though in this only,) the prospect from Nun-head is deficient. majestically presented itself in our front; the solemn cupola, with its cross burning in the sun-light, sublimely swelling into the bright blue sky. Far to the left, the sister towers of Westminster rose over their own awe-inspiring pile: and far beyond, the suburbs of the mighty city, pierced with innumerous spires, were out-stretched till they united with the blue uplands in the distance. A broader, yet more congregated sweep of roofs and towers, filled all the space betwixt the giant two among the metropolitic fanes; and the old twin hills, rich even in the remnants of their forest honours, heaved their high crests into the expanse of sky behind them. Yet to the right, mass after mass of fabric, piled in infinity of forms, stretched on, commingling with the host of spires: then "London's Column" rose; and next the "Towers of Julius:" until at length, beyond a wood of masts, the domes of Greenwich gave to this long, long spread of human haunts, a noble close. The bright broad stream of the majestic Thames was here first visible, rolling its course along the reach that faces the grand front of the structure so justly the Seaman's pride; then, doubling the bold headland, lying like a braid of light along the meadows, that led the eye over a picture of repose to the blues of the far horizon. In |