heir place I behold hogs and horses,
malt-bags and barrels, stills and machinery!

Alas, said I, to the occupier, and have these things become the
representatives of more human genius than England may ever witness on
one spot again--have you thus satirized the transitory fate of
humanity,--do you thus become a party with the bigotted enemies of
that philosophy which was personified in a Bolingbroke and a Pope? No,
he rejoined, I love the name and character of Bolingbroke, and I
preserve the house as well as I can with religious veneration; I often
smoke my pipe in Mr. Pope's parlour, and think of him with due respect
as I walk the part of the terrace opposite his room. He then conducted
me to this interesting parlour, which is of brown polished oak, with a
grate and ornaments of the age of George the First; and before its
window stood the portion of the terrace upon which the malt-house had
not encroached, with the Thames moving majestically under its wall. I
was on holy ground!--I did not take off my shoes--but I doubtless felt
what pilgrims feel as they approach the temples of Jerusalem, Mecca,
or Jaggernaut! Of all poems, and of all codes of wisdom, I admire the
Essay on Man, and its doctrines, the most; and in this room, I
exclaimed, it was probably planned, discussed, and written!

Mr. Hodgson assured me, this had always been called "Pope's room," and
he had no doubt it was the apartment usually occupied by that great
poet, in his visits to his friend Bolingbroke. Other parts of the
original house remain, and are occupied and kept in good order. He
told me, however, that this is but a wing of the mansion, which
extended in Lord Bolingbroke's time to the church-yard, and is now
appropriated to the malting-house and its warehouses.

The church itself is a new and elegant structure, but chiefly
interesting to me, as containing the vault of the St. John family, in
which lies the great Lord, at whose elegant monument, by Roubilliac, I
lingered some minutes.

On inquiring for an ancient inhabitant of Battersea, I was introduced
to a Mrs. Gilliard, a pleasant and intelligent woman, who told me, she
well remembered Lord Bolingbroke; that he used to ride out every day
in his chariot, and had a black patch on his cheek, with a large wart
over his eye-brows. She was then but a girl, but she was taught to
look upon him with veneration as a great man. As, however, he spent
little in the place, and gave little away, he was n