will consume its own
smoke, if that time ever does arrive, the view from Highgate, across the
great city, will be the grandest in the world. On a clear day, standing
in the Archway Road--that road esteemed such a wonder of engineering in
its day, and forming such a disastrous property for its shareholders (the
50 pounds shares may be bought at about 18s. a share)--you may see across
the valley of the Thames as far as the Kent and Surrey hills looming
obscurely in the distance. Close to the Archway Tavern, but on the other
side of the road, is a lofty old-fashioned brick mansion, said to have
been inhabited by Marshal Wade, the military hero who did so much for the
wars of Scotland, and whose memory is still preserved in the following
very remarkable couplet:

"Had you seen these roads before they were made,
You would lift up your hands and bless General Wade."

Well, from the top of this mansion you can see no less than seven English
counties. The number seems almost fabulous, and if, in accordance with a
well-established rule in such cases, we only believe half we hear, enough
is left to convince us that the view is one of no common kind; all that
is wanted to make the scene perfect is a little bit of water. From every
part of the hill, in spite of builders and buildings, views of exquisite
beauty may be obtained. Going down towards Kentish Town, the hill where
her Majesty was nearly dashed to pieces by the running away of the horses
of her carnage (her royal arms on a public-house still preserves the
tradition and the memory of the man who saved her at the peril of his
life), past where Mr. Bodkin the Barrister lives, past where William and
Mary Howitt live, past where the rich Miss Burdett Coutts has a stately
mansion, which, however, to the great grief of the neighbourhood, she
rarely adorns with her presence, what pleasant views we have before us.
It is the same going down past St. Joseph's Retreat to Holloway; and in
Swain's Lane, another lane leading back to Kentish Town, you might fancy
you were in Arcady itself. Again, stand on the brow of the hill, with
your backs to London, looking far away to distant Harrow, or ancient
Barnet, what a fair plain lies at your feet, clothed with cheerful
villas, and looking bright and warm. "Upon this hill," says Norden, "is
most pleasant dwelling, yet not so pleasant as healthful, for the expert
inhabitants there report that divers who have been long visited wit