Our hero and his fellow travellers now continued their journey, and, in a few hours, arrived at Bristol, and spent the remainder of that day in surveying the charming prospects which Clifton afforded. The company at the Hotwells was not numerous, and our hero found no names or people with whom he had any acquaintance. The following day they proceeded to Bath, through a most delightful country, with all the pastoral verdure of beginning summer, and yellow fruitfulness of autumn; with a picturesque succession and interspersion of hill, dale, vale, and den, watered by numberless streams which a heavy rain, the preceding night, had recruited from the drought of the dog-day heats, while it had also freshened all the other objects. At length they came in sight of the delightful city of Bath. This charming retreat is situated in a deep narrow valley, bounded on the north, south, and south-west, by lofty hills, forming a very pleasant, natural amphitheatre, and affording the city a double advantage, a barrier against the winds, and fountains of the purest waters. These hills abound with white free-stone, of which the houses are built. On the north-west side the valley widens, divided into rich meadows, watered by the river Avon. At this season of the year, the town being almost empty of visitants, the objects of their attention were the town itself, its accommodations, and ornaments. With much pleasure they found, that with the various sources of health, and provisions for gaiety and splendour, mingled numerous institutions for benevolence and compassion; and learned, that in the midst of amusement, relaxation, and abstraction, from the cares of business, there was a tear for pity, and a liberal hand for melting charity. With English generosity, they found, that there was a tincture of the unsuspicious openings of English credulity, and that Bath was a great receptacle for gamblers, quack doctors, legacy hunters, jugglers, fortune tellers, methodist preachers, and other adventurers in swindling, who wish to obtain the property of their neighbours, without giving any value in return. These, however, so far from being dishonourable to Bath, are merely symtomatic of its great and numerous delights, which attract the opulent and liberal from all parts of the kingdom, and these bloodsuckers naturally follow; and, indeed, the absence from serious concerns, which chiefly distinguishes Bath, is peculiarly conducive to the custom of either the gaming-house or the conventicle, as gallantry reigns there as well as in other places. These pastimes, particularly the itinerant assemblages, are extremely conducive to gallantry. Indeed, if Ovid, when he wrote his “Treatise on the Art of Love,” had been acquainted with Methodism, instead of directing young bucks, that might be in quest of a mistress, to the Circus and Theatre, he would have sent them to the Tabernacle; the former, as he acknowledges, might fail even in the warm latitudes