In a letter to William Wordsworth in 1801, the critic Charles Lamb [right] declined his friend’s “very kind invitation into Cumberland” and provocatively dismissed the English countryside, which the celebrated poet cherished so dearly, as “dead nature”. Lamb explained that he couldn’t bring himself to leave London, where he worked during the day as a clerk at the East India Company, because he was addicted to the streets of the city at night.
“The Lighted shops of the Strand and Fleet-street [sic],” Lamb wrote in ecstatic tones, “all the bustle and wickedness round about Covent Garden; the watchmen, drunken scenes.” He simply had to remain immersed in this intoxicating, sometimes noxious atmosphere, among the bookstalls, coffee houses, print shops and pleasure gardens. “The wonder of these sights,” he concluded, “impels…
