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a rival in England. The town hall is a noble edifice, and the people are quite proud of it. The interior is finely laid out, and has some spacious rooms for the civic revelries of the fathers of the town. The good woman who showed us round feels complacently enough as she explains the uses of the rooms. The ball-room is ninety feet by forty-six, and forty feet high. The dining and drawing-rooms are spacious apartments. On the grand staircase is a noble statue of George Canning, by Chantrey, whose beautiful one of Washington we have so often admired in the Boston State House. In the building are some good paintings of the late kings; one or two by Sir Thomas Lawrence. The Exchange is directly behind the hall, and contains in the centre a glorious bronze monument to Lord Nelson, the joint production of Wyat and Westmacott. Death is laying his hand upon the hero's heart, and Victory is placing a fourth crown on his sword. Ever since I read Southey's Life of Nelson, I have felt an interest in every thing relating to this great; yet imperfect man. You know that illustrated work on Nelson that we have so often looked at it contains a large engraving of this monument. As Yankee boys, we found our way to the top of the Exchange, to look at the cotton sales-room. This same room has more to do with our good friends at the south than any other in the world. The atmosphere would have been chilly to a Georgian planter, as cotton was down—down.

      The Necropolis is a very spacious burying-place, open to all classes, and where persons can be interred with the use of any form desired. The gateway is of stone, and not unlike the granite one at Mount Auburn; and on one side is a chapel, and on the other a house for the register. Not far from this we came to the Zoölogical Gardens, kept in excellent order, and where is a good collection of animals, birds, &c. The Collegiate Institution is an imposing structure in the Tudor style.

      St. George's Church, which stands at the head of Lord Street, occupies the position of the old castle, destroyed, I believe, more than one hundred and fifty years ago, and is a very graceful termination to one of the best business avenues of the city. Several of the churches and chapels are in good style. But one of the best buildings is—as it should be, in a city like this—the Sailor's Home, not far from the Custom House. This is a highly-ornamented house, and would adorn any city of the world.

      The Custom House is thought to be one of the finest buildings in the kingdom. It occupied ten years in its erection. It is composed of three façades, from a rusticated pavement, each having a splendid portico of eight Ionic columns. The whole is surmounted by a dome, one hundred and thirty feet high, and the effect of the building is excellent. The glory of Liverpool is her docks, and a stranger is sure to be pointed to the great landing stage, an immense floating pier, which was moored into its present position on the 1st of June, 1847. This stage is five hundred and seven feet long, and over eighty feet wide. This mass of timber floats upon pontoons, which have to support more than two thousand tons. At each end is a light barge.

      In the Clarence dock are to be found the Irish and coasting steamers, and to the north are the Trafalgar, Victoria, and Waterloo docks; the Prince's dock, and the Great Prince's dock basin. On the outside of all these is a fine parade, of about one half a mile, and which affords one of the most beautiful marine promenades in the world, and gives an interesting view of the Cheshire shore, opposite the city. The Prince's dock is five hundred yards long, and one hundred broad. Vessels, on arriving, discharge on the east side, and take in cargo on the west. Besides all these there is the Brunswick dock, Queen's dock, Duke's dock, Salthouse dock, &c.

      The Royal Liverpool Institution is a great benefit to the inhabitants. It has a good library, fine collections of paintings, and a good museum of natural history. Many of these paintings belong to the early masters, and date even before the fifteenth century. We were interested to find here a complete set of casts of the Elgin marbles. The originals were the decorations of the Parthenon at Athens, and are now in the British Museum. As we shall spend some time in that collection, I say no more at present about these wonderful monuments of genius. The Athenæum and the Lyceum are both fine buildings, and each has a good library, lecture, and news rooms.

      We were disappointed at finding the Rev. Dr. Raffles, the most eloquent preacher of the city, out of town. He was the successor of Spencer, who was drowned bathing in the Mersey, and his Life by Raffles is one of deep interest. The great historical name of Liverpool is William Roscoe, the author of the Lives of Leo X. and the Medici. I must not omit to tell you that, during our stay, the town was all alive with a regiment of lancers, just arrived from Ireland, on their way to London. They are indeed fine-looking fellows, and are mounted on capital horses. I have watched their evolutions in front of the Adelphi with much pleasure, and have been amused to notice a collection of the most wretched-looking boys I ever saw, brought together by the troops. There seems to me more pauperism this week, in Liverpool, than I ever saw in New York in my life.

      Truly yours,

      james.

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      London.

      Dear Charley:—

      Does it not seem strange that I am here in London? I can hardly tell what to write about first. I stand at the door of our hotel and look at the crowds in the streets, and then at old King Charles, at Charing Cross, directly across the road, and when I think that this is the old city where Wat Tyler figured, and Whittington was lord mayor, and Lady Jane Grey was beheaded, and where the Tower is still to be seen, I am half beside myself, and want to do nothing but roam about for a good month to come. I have read so much concerning London, that I am pretty sure I know more about it than many of the boys who have heard Bow Church bells all their lives. We left Liverpool for Birmingham, where we passed an afternoon and evening in the family of a manufacturer very pleasantly, and at ten o'clock took the express mail train for London. We are staying at a hotel called the Golden Cross, Charing Cross. We have our breakfast in the coffee-room, and then dine as it suits our convenience as to place and hour. We spent one day in riding about the city, and I think we got quite an idea of the great streets.

      The Strand is a very fine business street, perhaps a mile long. It widens in one part, and has two churches in the middle of it, and a narrow street seems built inside it at one place, as nasty, dirty a lane as I ever saw, called Hollowell Street. I was very much delighted at the end of the Strand to see old Temple Bar, which is the entrance to the city proper, and which divides Fleet Street from the Strand. It is a noble archway, with small side arches for foot passengers. The head of many a poor fellow, and the quarters of men called traitors, have been fastened over this gateway in former times.

      Dr. Johnson was once walking in Westminster Abbey with Goldsmith, and as they were looking at the Poet's Corner, Johnson said to his friend—

      "Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis."

      When they had walked on to Temple Bar, Goldsmith stopped Johnson, and pointed to the heads of Fletcher and Townley, hanging above, and slyly remarked—

      "Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis."

      I suppose you remember that the great dictionary man was a Jacobite in his heart.

      The present bar was put up in 1670, and was designed by Sir Christopher Wren. The statues on the sides, which are towards the city, are those of Queen Elizabeth and James I.; and towards the Strand, those of Charles I. and Charles II. They stand in niches.

      Whenever the monarch passes into the city, there is much ceremony takes place at the bar. The gates are closed, a herald sounds a trumpet and knocks for entrance, the gates are opened, and the lord mayor of London presents the sword of the city to the sovereign, who returns it to his lordship. The upper part of the bar is used by Messrs. Childs, the bankers, as a store room for their past account books.

      Fleet Street is thronged with passengers and carriages of all sorts. Just a few doors from the bar, on the right-hand side, is a gayly-painted front, which claims to have been a palace of Henry VIII. and the residence of Cardinal Wolsey. It is now used as a hair-cutting shop, up stairs. We went up and examined the panelled ceiling, said to be just as it used to be. It is certainly very fine, and looks as if it

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