october 14th.—-in the morning of tuesday, after breakfast in the coffee-room, j——- and i walked about to see the remarkables of worcester. it is not a particularly interesting city, compared with other old english cities; the general material of the houses being red brick, and almost all modernized externally, whatever may be the age of their original framework. we saw a large brick jail in castellated style, with battlements,—a very barren and dreary-looking edifice; likewise, in the more central part of the town, a guildhall with a handsome front, ornamented with a statue of queen anne above the entrance, and statues of charles i. and charles ii. on either side of the door, with the motto, "floreat semper civitas fidelis." worcester seems to pride itself upon its loyalty. we entered the building, and in the large interior hall saw some old armor hanging on the wall at one end,— corselets, helmets, greaves, and a pair of breeches of chain mail. an inscription told us that these suits of armor had been left by charles i. after the battle of worcester, and presented to the city at a much later date by a gentleman of the neighborhood. on the stone floor of the hall, under the armor, were two brass cannon, one of which had been taken from the french in a naval battle within the present century; the other was a beautiful piece, bearing, i think, the date of 1632, and manufactured in brussels for the count de burgh, as a latin inscription testified. this likewise was a relic of the battle of worcester, where it had been lost by charles. many gentlemen—connected with the city government, i suppose—were passing through the hall; and, looking through its interior doors, we saw stately staircases and council-rooms panelled with oak or other dark wood. there seems to be a good deal of state in the government of these old towns.

worcester cathedral would have impressed me much had i seen it earlier; though its aspect is less venerable than that of chester or lichfield, having been faithfully renewed and repaired, and stone-cutters and masons were even now at work on the exterior. at our first visit, we found no entrance; but coming again at ten o'clock, when the service was to begin, we found the door open, and the chorister-boys, in their white robes, standing in the nave and aisles, with elder people in the same garb, and a few black-robed ecclesiastics and an old verger. the interior of the cathedral has been covered with a light-colored paint at some recent period. there is, as i remember, very little stained glass to enrich and bedim the light; and the effect produced is a naked, daylight aspect, unlike what i have seen in any other gothic cathedral. the plan of the edifice, too, is simple; a nave and side aisles, with great clustered pillars, from which spring the intersecting arches; and, somehow or other, the venerable mystery which i have found in westminster abbey and elsewhere does not lurk in these arches and behind these pillars. the choir, no doubt, is richer and more beautiful; but we did not enter it. i remember two tombs, with recumbent figures on there, between the pillars that divide the nave from the side aisles, and there were also mural monuments,—one, well executed, to an officer slain in the peninsular war, representing him falling from his horse; another by a young widow to her husband, with an inscription of passionate grief, and a record of her purpose finally to sleep beside him. he died in 1803. i did not see on the monument any record of the consummation of her purpose; and so perhaps she sleeps beside a second husband. there are more antique memorials than these two on the wall, and i should have been interested to examine them; but the service was now about to begin in the choir, and at the far-off end of the nave the old verger waved his hand to banish us from the cathedral. at the same time he moved towards us, probably to say that he would show it to us after service; but having little time, and being so moderately impressed with what i had already seen, i took my departure, and so disappointed the old man of his expected shilling or half-crown. the tomb of king john is somewhere in this cathedral.

we renewed our rambles through the town, and, passing the museum of the worcester natural history society, i yielded to j——-'s wish to go in. there are three days in the week, i believe, on which it is open to the public; but this being one of the close days, we were admitted on payment of a shilling. it seemed a very good and well-arranged collection in most departments of natural history, and j——-, who takes more interest in these matters than i do, was much delighted. we were left to examine the hall and galleries quite at our leisure. besides the specimens of beasts, birds, shells, fishes, minerals, fossils, insects, and all other natural things before the flood and since, there was a stone bearing a roman inscription, and various antiquities, coins, and medals, and likewise portraits, some of which were old and curious.

leaving the museum, we walked down to the stone bridge over the severn, which is here the largest river i have seen in england, except, of course, the mersey and the thames. a flight of steps leads from the bridge down to a walk along the river-side, and this we followed till we reached the spot where an angler was catching chubs and dace, under the walls of the bishop's palace, which here faces the river. it seems to be an old building, but with modern repairs and improvements. the angler had pretty good success while we were looking at him, drawing out two or three silvery fish, and depositing them in his basket, which was already more than half full. the severn is not a transparent stream, and looks sluggish, but has really movement enough to carry the angler's float along pretty fast. there were two vessels of considerable size (that is, as large as small schooners) lying at the bridge. we now passed under an old stone archway, through a lane that led us from the river-side up past the cathedral, whence a gentleman and lady were just emerging, and the verger was closing the door behind them.

we returned to our hotel, and ordered luncheon,—some cold chicken, cold ham, and ale, and after paying the bill (about fifteen shillings, to which i added five shillings for attendance) we took our departure in a fly for the railway. the waiter (a young woman), chambermaid, and boots, all favored us with the most benign and deferential looks at parting, whence it was easy to see that i had given them more than they had any claim to receive. nevertheless, this english system of fees has its good side, and i never travel without finding the advantage of it, especially on railways, where the officials are strictly forbidden to take fees, and where, in consequence, a fee secures twice as much good service as anywhere else. be it recorded, that i never knew an englishman to refuse a shilling,—or, for that matter, a halfpenny.

from worcester we took tickets to wolverhampton, and thence to birkenhead. it grew dark before we reached chester, and began to rain; and when we got to birkenhead it was a pitiless, pelting storm, under which, on the deck of the steamboat, we crossed the detestable mersey, two years' trial of which has made me detest it every day more and more. it being the night of rejoicing for the taking of sebastopol and the visit of the duke of cambridge, we found it very difficult to get a cab on the liverpool side; but after much waiting in the rain, and afterwards in one of the refreshment-rooms, on the landing stage, we took a hansom and drove off. the cloudy sky reflected the illuminations, and we saw some gas-lighted stars and other devices, as we passed, very pretty, but much marred by the wind and rain. so we finally arrived at mrs. blodgett's, and made a good supper of ham and cold chicken, like our luncheon, after which, wet as we were, and drizzling as the weather was, and though it was two hours beyond his bedtime, i took j——- out to see the illuminations. i wonder what his mother would have said. but the boy must now begin to see life and to feel it.

there was a crowd of people in the street; such a crowd that we could hardly make a passage through them, and so many cabs and omnibuses that it was difficult to cross the ways. some of the illuminations were very brilliant; but there was a woful lack of variety and invention in the devices. the star of the garter, which kept flashing out from the continual extinguishment of the wind and rain,—v and a, in capital letters of light,—were repeated a hundred times; as were loyal and patriotic mottoes,—crowns formed by colored lamps. in some instances a sensible tradesman had illuminated his own sign, thereby at once advertising his loyalty and his business. innumerable flags were suspended before the houses and across the streets, and the crowd plodded on, silent, heavy, and without any demonstration of joy, unless by the discharge of pistols close at one's ear. the rain, to be sure, was quite sufficient to damp any joyous ebullition of feeling; but the next day, when the rain had ceased, and when the streets were still thronged with people, there was the same heavy, purposeless strolling from place to place, with no more alacrity of spirit than while it rained. the english do not know how to rejoice; and, in their present circumstances, to say the truth, have not much to rejoice for. we soon came home; but i believe it was nearly, if not quite, eleven.

at mrs. blodgett's, mr. archer (surgeon to some prison or house of correction here in liverpool) spoke of an attorney who many years ago committed forgery, and, being apprehended, took a dose of prussic acid. mr. archer came with the stomach-pump, and asked the patient how much prussic acid he had taken. "sir," he replied, attorney-like, "i decline answering that question!" he recovered, and afterwards arrived at great wealth in new south wales.

november 14th.—at dinner at mr. bright's, a week or two ago, mr. robertson gladstone spoke of a magistrate of liverpool, many years since, sir john ———. of a morning, sitting on the bench in the police court, he would take five shillings out of his pocket and say, "here, mr. clerk, so much for my fine. i was drunk last night!" mr. gladstone witnessed this personally.

november 16th.—i went to the north hospital yesterday, to take the deposition of a dying man as to his ill treatment by the second and third mates of the ship assyria, on the voyage from new orleans. this hospital is a very gloomy place, with its wide bleak entries and staircases, which may be very good for summer weather, but which are most congenial at this bleak november season. i found the physicians of the house laughing and talking very cheerfully with mr. wilding, who had preceded me. we went forthwith, up two or three pairs of stairs, to the ward where the sick man lay, and where there were six or eight other beds, in almost each of which was a patient,—narrow beds, shabbily furnished. the man whom i came to see was the only one who was not perfectly quiet; neither was he very restless. the doctor, informing him of my presence, intimated that his disease might be lethal, and that i was come to hear what he had to say as to the causes of his death. afterwards, a testament was sought for, in order to swear him, and i administered the oath, and made him kiss the book. he then (in response to mr. wilding's questions) told how he had been beaten and ill-treated, hanged and thwacked, from the moment he came on board, to which usage he ascribed his death. sometimes his senses seemed to sink away, so that i almost thought him dead; but by and by the questions would appear to reach him, and bring him back, and he went on with his evidence, interspersing it, however, with dying groans, and almost death rattles. in the midst of whatever he was saying, he often recurred to a sum of four dollars and a half, which he said he had put into the hands of the porter of the hospital, and which he wanted to get back. several times he expressed his wish to return to america (of which he was not a native), and, on the whole, i do not think he had any real sense of his precarious condition, notwithstanding that he assented to the doctor's hint to that effect. he sank away so much at one time, that they brought him wine in a tin cup, with a spout to drink out of, and he mustered strength to raise himself in his bed and drink; then hemmed, with rather a disappointed air, as if it did not stimulate and refresh him, as drink ought to do. when he had finished his evidence (which mr. wilding took down in writing from his mouth), he marked his cross at the foot of the paper, and we ceased to torment him with further question. his deposition will probably do no good, so far as the punishment of the persons implicated is concerned; for he appears to have come on board in a sickly state, and never to have been well during the passage. on a pallet, close by his bed, lay another seaman of the same ship, who had likewise been abused by the same men, and bore more ostensible marks of ill usage than this man did, about the head and face. there is a most dreadful state of things aboard our ships. hell itself can be no worse than some of them, and i do pray that some new-englander with the rage of reform in him may turn his thoughts this way. the first step towards better things—the best practicable step for the present—is to legalize flogging on shipboard; thereby doing away with the miscellaneous assaults and batteries, kickings, fisticuffings, ropes'-endings, marline-spikings, which the inferior officers continually perpetrate, as the only mode of keeping up anything like discipline. as in many other instances, philanthropy has overshot itself by the prohibition of flogging, causing the captain to avoid the responsibility of solemn punishment, and leave his mates to make devils of themselves, by habitual and hardly avoidable ill treatment of the seamen.

after i left the dying sailor, his features seemed to contract and grow sharp. some young medical students stood about the bed, watching death creep upon him, and anticipating, perhaps, that in a day or two they would have the poor fellow's body on the dissecting-table. dead patients, i believe, undergo this fate, unless somebody chooses to pay their funeral expenses; but the captain of the assyria (who seems to be respectable and kind-hearted, though master of a floating hell) tells me that he means to bury the man at his own cost. this morning there is a note from the surgeon of the hospital, announcing his death, and likewise the dangerous state of his shipmate whom i saw on the pallet beside him.

sea-captains call a dress-coat a "claw-hammer."

november 22d.—i went on board the ship william lapscott, lying in the river, yesterday, to take depositions in reference to a homicide committed in new york. i sat on a sofa in the cabin, and mr. wilding at a table, with his writing-materials before him, and the crew were summoned, one by one,—rough, piratical-looking fellows, contrasting strongly with the gewgaw cabin in which i received them. there is no such finery on land as in the cabin of one of these ships in the liverpool trade, finished off with a complete panelling of rosewood, mahogany, and bird's-eye maple, polished and varnished, and gilded along the cornices and the edges of the panels. it is all a piece of elaborate cabinet-work; and one does not altogether see why it should be given to the gales, and the salt-sea atmosphere, to be tossed upon the waves, and occupied by a rude shipmaster in his dreadnaught clothes, when the fairest lady in the land has no such boudoir. a telltale compass hung beneath the skylight, and a clock was fastened near it, and ticked loudly. a stewardess, with the aspect of a woman at home, went in and out of the cabin, about her domestic calls. through the cabin door (it being a house on deck) i could see the arrangement of the ship.

the first sailor that i examined was a black-haired, powerful fellow, in an oil-skin jacket, with a good face enough, though he, too, might have been taken for a pirate. in the affray in which the homicide occurred, he had received a cut across the forehead, and another slantwise across his nose, which had quite cut it in two, on a level with the face, and had thence gone downward to his lower jaw. but neither he nor any one else could give any testimony elucidating the matter into which i had come to inquire. a seaman had been stabbed just before the vessel left new york, and had been sent on shore and died there. most of these men were in the affray, and all of then were within a few yards of the spot where it occurred; but those actually present all pleaded that they were so drunk that the whole thing was now like a dream, with no distinct images; and, if any had been sober, they took care to know nothing that could inculpate any individual. perhaps they spoke truth; they certainly had a free and honest-like way of giving their evidence, as if their only object was to tell all the truth they knew. but i rather think, in the forecastle, and during the night-watches, they have whispered to one another a great deal more than they told me, and have come to a pretty accurate conclusion as to the man who gave the stab.

while the examination proceeded, there was a drawing of corks in a side closet; and, at its conclusion, the captain asked us to stay to dinner, but we excused ourselves, and drank only a glass of wine. the captain apologized for not joining us, inasmuch as he had drunk no wine for the last seventeen years. he appears to be a particularly good and trustworthy man, and is the only shipmaster whom i have met with, who says that a crew can best be governed by kindness. in the inner closet there was a cage containing two land-birds, who had come aboard him, tired almost to death, three or four hundred miles from shore; and he had fed them and been tender of them, from a sense of what was due to hospitality. he means to give them to j——-.

november 28th.—i have grown wofully aristocratic in my tastes, i fear, since coming to england; at all events, i am conscious of a certain disgust at going to dine in a house with a small entrance-hall and a narrow staircase, parlor with chintz curtains, and all other arrangements on a similar scale. this is pitiable. however, i really do not think i should mind these things, were it not for the bustle, the affectation, the intensity, of the mistress of the house. it is certain that a woman in england is either decidedly a lady or decidedly not a lady. there seems to be no respectable medium. bill of fare: broiled soles, half of a roast pig, a haricot of mutton, stewed oysters, a tart, pears, figs, with sherry and port wine, both good, and the port particularly so. i ate some pig, and could hardly resist the lady's importunities to eat more; though to my fancy it tasted of swill,—had a flavor of the pigsty. on the parlor table were some poor editions of popular books, longfellow's poems and others. the lady affects a literary taste, and bothered me about my own productions.

a beautiful subject for a romance, or for a sermon, would be the subsequent life of the young man whom jesus bade to sell all he had and give to the poor; and he went away sorrowful, and is not recorded to have done what he was bid.

december 11th.—this has been a foggy morning and forenoon, snowing a little now and then, and disagreeably cold. the sky is of an inexpressibly dreary, dun color. it is so dark at times that i have to hold my book close to my eyes, and then again it lightens up a little. on the whole, disgustingly gloomy; and thus it has been for a long while past, although the disagreeableness seems to be very near the earth, and just above the steeples and house-tops very probably there may be a bright, sunshiny day. at about twelve there is a faint glow of sunlight, like the gleaming reflection from a not highly polished copper kettle.

december 26th.—on christmas eve and yesterday, there were little branches of mistletoe hanging in several parts of the house, in the kitchen, the entries, the parlor, and the smoking-room,—suspended from the gas-fittings. the maids of the house did their utmost to entrap the gentlemen boarders, old and young; under the privileged places, and there to kiss them, after which they were expected to pay a shilling. it is very queer, being customarily so respectful, that they should assume this license now, absolutely trying to pull the gentlemen into the kitchen by main force, and kissing the harder and more abundantly the more they were resisted. a little rosy-checked scotch lass—at other times very modest —was the most active in this business. i doubt whether any gentleman but myself escaped. i heard old mr. s——— parleying with the maids last evening, and pleading his age; but he seems to have met with no mercy, for there was a sound of prodigious smacking immediately afterwards. j——- was assaulted, and fought, most vigorously; but was outrageously kissed,—receiving some scratches, moreover, in the conflict. the mistletoe has white, wax-looking berries, and dull green leaves, with a parasitical stem.

early in the morning of christmas day, long before daylight, i heard music in the street, and a woman's voice, powerful and melodious, singing a christmas hymn. before bedtime i presume one half of england, at a moderate calculation, was the worse for liquor.

the market-houses, at this season, show the national taste for heavy feeding,—carcasses of prize oxen, immensely fat, and bulky; fat sheep, with their woolly heads and tails still on, and stars and other devices ingeniously wrought on the quarters; fat pigs, adorned with flowers, like corpses of virgins; hares, wild-fowl, geese, ducks, turkeys; and green boughs and banners suspended about the stalls,—and a great deal of dirt and griminess on the stone floor of the market-house, and on the persons of the crowd.

there are some englishmen whom i like,—one or two for whom i might say i have an affection; but still there is not the same union between us as if they were americans. a cold, thin medium intervenes betwixt our most intimate approaches. it puts me in mind of alnaschar and his princess, with the cold steel blade of his scimitar between them. perhaps if i were at home i might feel differently; but in a foreign land i can never forget the distinction between english and american.

january 1st, 1856.—last night, at mrs. blodgett's, we sat up till twelve o'clock to open the front door, and let the new year in. after the coming guest was fairly in the house, the back door was to be opened, to let the old year out; but i was tired, and did not wait for the latter ceremony. when the new year made its entrance, there was a general shaking of hands, and one of the shipmasters said that it was customary to kiss the ladies all round; but to my great satisfaction, we did not proceed to such extremity. there was singing in the streets, and many voices of people passing, and when twelve had struck, all the bells of the town, i believe, rang out together. i went up stairs, sad and lonely, and, stepping into j——-'s little room, wished him a happy new year, as he slept, and many of them.

to a cool observer, a country does not show to best advantage during a time of war. all its self-conceit is doubly visible, and, indeed, is sedulously kept uppermost by direct appeals to it. the country must be humbugged, in order to keep its courage up.

sentiment seems to me more abundant in middle-aged ladies in england than in the united states. i don't know how it may be with young ladies.

the shipmasters bear testimony to the singular delicacy of common sailors in their behavior in the presence of women; and they say that this good trait is still strongly observable even in the present race of seamen, greatly deteriorated as it is. on shipboard, there is never an indecorous word or unseemly act said or done by sailors when a woman can be cognizant of it; and their deportment in this respect differs greatly from that of landsmen of similar position in society. this is remarkable, considering that a sailor's female acquaintances are usually and exclusively of the worst kind, and that his intercourse with them has no relation whatever to morality or decency. for this very reason, i suppose, he regards a modest woman as a creature divine and to be reverenced.

january 16th.—-i have suffered wofully from low spirits for some time past; and this has not often been the case since i grew to be a man, even in the least auspicious periods of my life. my desolate bachelor condition, i suppose, is the cause. really, i have no pleasure in anything, and i feel my tread to be heavier, and my physical movement more sluggish, than in happier times. a weight is always upon me. my appetite is not good. i sleep ill, lying awake till late at night, to think sad thoughts and to imagine sombre things, and awaking before light with the same thoughts and fancies still in my mind. my heart sinks always as i ascend the stairs to my office, from a dim augury of ill news from lisbon that i may perhaps hear,—of black-sealed letters, or some such horrors. nothing gives me any joy. i have learned what the bitterness of exile is, in these days; and i never should have known it but for the absence of "remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,"—i can perfectly appreciate that line of goldsmith; for it well expresses my own torpid, unenterprising, joyless state of mind and heart. i am like an uprooted plant, wilted and drooping. life seems so purposeless as not to be worth the trouble of carrying it on any further.

i was at a dinner, the other evening, at mr. b———'s, where the entertainment was almost entirely american,—new york oysters, raw, stewed, and fried; soup of american partridges, particularly good; also terrapin soup, rich, but not to my taste; american pork and beans, baked in yankee style; a noble american turkey, weighing thirty-one pounds; and, at the other end of the table, an american round of beef, which the englishmen present allowed to be delicious, and worth a guinea an ounce. i forget the other american dishes, if there were any more,—o yes! canvas-back ducks, coming on with the sweets, in the usual english fashion. we ought to have had catawba wine; but this was wanting, although there was plenty of hock, champagne, sherry, madeira, port, and claret. our host is a very jolly man, and the dinner was a merrier and noisier one than any english dinner within my experience.

february 8th.—i read to-day, in the little office-bible (greasy with perjuries) st. luke's account of the agony, the trial, the crucifixion, and the resurrection; and how christ appeared to the two disciples, on their way to emmaus, and afterwards to a company of disciples. on both these latter occasions he expounded the scriptures to them, and showed the application of the old prophecies to himself; and it is to be supposed that he made them fully, or at least sufficiently, aware what his character was,—whether god, or man, or both, or something between, together with all other essential points of doctrine. but none of this doctrine or of these expositions is recorded, the mere facts being most simply stated, and the conclusion to which he led them, that, whether god himself, or the son of god, or merely the son of man, he was, at all events, the christ foretold in the jewish scriptures. this last, therefore, must have been the one essential point.

february 18th.—on saturday there called on me an elderly robinson-crusoe sort of man, mr. h———, shipwright, i believe, of boston, who has lately been travelling in the east. about a year ago he was here, after being shipwrecked on the dutch coast, and i assisted him to get home. again, i have supplied him with five pounds, and my credit for an outside garment. he is a spare man, with closely cropped gray, or rather white hair, close-cropped whiskers fringing round his chin, and a close-cropped white mustache, with his under lip and a portion of his chin bare beneath,—sunburnt and weather-worn. he has been in syria and jerusalem, through the desert, and at sebastopol; and says he means to get ticknor to publish his travels, and the story of his whole adventurous life, on his return home. a free-spoken, confiding, hardy, religious, unpolished, simple, yet world-experienced man; very talkative, and boring me with longer visits than i like. he has brought home, among other curiosities, "a lady's arm," as he calls it, two thousand years old,—a piece of a mummy, of course; also some coins, one of which, a gold coin of vespasian, he showed me, and said he bought it of an arab of the desert. the bedouins possess a good many of these coins, handed down immemorially from father to son, and never sell them unless compelled by want. he had likewise a hebrew manuscript of the book of ruth, on a parchment roll, which was put into his care to be given to lord haddo.

he was at sebastopol during the siege, and nearly got his head knocked off by a cannon-ball. his strangest statement is one in reference to lord raglan. he says that an english officer told him that his lordship shut himself up, desiring not to be disturbed, as he needed sleep. when fifteen hours had gone by, his attendants thought it time to break open the door; and lord raglan was found dead, with a bottle of strychnine by the bedside. the affair, so far as the circumstances indicated suicide, was hushed up, and his death represented as a natural one. the english officer seems to have been an unscrupulous fellow, jesting thus with the fresh memory of his dead commander; for it is impossible to believe a word of the story. even if lord raglan had wished for death, he would hardly have taken strychnine, when there were so many chances of being honorably shot. in wood's narrative of the campaign, it is stated that he died surrounded by the members of his staff, after having been for some time ill. it appears, however, by the same statement, that no serious apprehensions had been entertained, until, one afternoon, he shut himself in, desiring not to be disturbed till evening. after two or three hours he called lord burghersh,—"frank, frank!" and was found to be almost in a state of collapse, and died that evening. mr. h———'s story might very well have been a camp rumor.

it seems to me that the british ministry, in its notion of a life-peerage, shows an entire misunderstanding of what makes people desire the peerage. it is not for the immediate personal distinction; but because it removes the peer and his consanguinity from the common rank of men, and makes a separate order of them, as if they should grow angelic. a life-peer is but a mortal amid the angelic throng.

february 28th.—i went yesterday with mrs. ——— and another lady, and mr. m———, to the west derby workhouse. . . .

[here comes in the visit to the west derby workhouse, which was made the subject of a paper in our old home, called "outside glimpses of english poverty." as the purpose in publishing these passages from the private note-books is to give to those who ask for a memoir of mr. hawthorne every possible incident recorded by himself which shows his character and nature, the editor thinks it proper to disclose the fact that mr. hawthorne was himself the gentleman of that party who took up in his arms the little child, so fearfully repulsive in its condition. and it seems better to quote his own words in reference to it, than merely to say it was he.

under date february 28, 1856.

"after this, we went to the ward where the children were kept, and, on entering this, we saw, in the first place, two or three unlovely and unwholesome little imps, who were lazily playing together. one of them (a child about six years old, but i know not whether girl or boy) immediately took the strangest fancy for me. it was a wretched, pale, half-torpid little thing, with a humor in its eyes which the governor said was the scurvy. i never saw, till a few moments afterwards, a child that i should feel less inclined to fondle.

"but this little, sickly, humor-eaten fright prowled around me, taking hold of my skirts, following at my heels, and at last held up its hands, smiled in my face, and, standing directly before me, insisted on my taking it up! not that it said a word, for i rather think it was underwitted, and could not talk; but its face expressed such perfect confidence that it was going to be taken up and made much of, that it was impossible not to do it. it was as if god had promised the child this favor on my behalf, and that i must needs fulfil the contract. i held my undesirable burden a little while; and, after setting the child down, it still followed me, holding two of my fingers and playing with them, just as if it were a child of my own. it was a foundling, and out of all human kind it chose me to be its father! we went up stairs into another ward; and, on coming down again, there was this same child waiting for me, with a sickly smile round its defaced mouth, and in its dim red eyes. . . . i never should have forgiven myself if i had repelled its advances."—ed.]

after leaving the workhouse, we drove to norris green; and mrs. ——— showed me round the grounds, which are very good and nicely kept. o these english homes, what delightful places they are! i wonder how many people live and die in the workhouse, having no other home, because other people have a great deal more home than enough. . . . we had a very pleasant dinner, and mr. m——— and i walked back, four miles and a half, to liverpool, where we arrived just before midnight.

why did christ curse the fig-tree? it was not in the least to blame; and it seems most unreasonable to have expected it to bear figs out of season. instead of withering it away, it would have been as great a miracle, and far more beautiful, and, one would think, of more beneficent influence, to have made it suddenly rich with ripe fruit. then, to be sure, it might have died joyfully, having answered so good a purpose. i have been reminded of this miracle by the story of a man in heywood, a town in lancashire, who used such horribly profane language that a plane-tree in front of his cottage is said to have withered away from that hour. i can draw no moral from the incident of the fig-tree, unless it be that all things perish from the instant when they cease to answer some divine purpose.

march 6th.—yesterday i lunched on board captain russell's ship, the princeton. these daily lunches on shipboard might answer very well the purposes of a dinner; being, in fact, noontide dinners, with soup, roast mutton, mutton-chops, and a macaroni pudding,—brandy, port and sherry wines. there were three elderly englishmen at table, with white heads, which, i think, is oftener the predicament of elderly heads here than in america. one of these was a retired custom-house officer, and the other two were connected with shipping in some way. there is a satisfaction in seeing englishmen eat and drink, they do it so heartily, and, on the whole, so wisely,—trusting so entirely that there is no harm in good beef and mutton, and a reasonable quantity of good liquor; and these three hale old men, who had acted on this wholesome faith for so long, were proofs that it is well on earth to live like earthly creatures. in america, what squeamishness, what delicacy, what stomachic apprehension, would there not be among three stomachs of sixty or seventy years' experience! i think this failure of american stomachs is partly owing to our ill usage of our digestive powers, and partly to our want of faith in them.

after lunch, we all got into an omnibus, and went to the mersey iron foundry, to see the biggest piece of ordnance in the world, which is almost finished. the overseer of the works received us, and escorted us courteously throughout the establishment; which is very extensive, giving employment to a thousand men, what with night-work and day-work. the big gun is still on the axle, or turning-machine, by means of which it has been bored. it is made entirely of wrought and welded iron, fifty tons of which were originally used; and the gun, in its present state, bored out and smoothed away, weighs nearly twenty-three tons. it has, as yet, no trunnions, and does not look much like a cannon, but only a huge iron cylinder, immensely solid, and with a bore so large that a young man of nineteen shoved himself into it, the whole length, with a light, in order to see whether it is duly smooth and regular. i suppose it will have a better effect, as to the impression of size, when it is finished, polished, mounted, aid fully equipped, after the fashion of ordinary cannon. it is to throw a ball of three hundred pounds' weight five miles, and woe be to whatever ship or battlement shall bear the brunt!

after inspecting the gun we went through other portions of the establishment, and saw iron in various stages of manufacture. i am not usually interested in manufacturing processes, being quite unable to understand them, at least in cotton-machinery and the like; but here there were such exhibitions of mighty strength, both of men and machines, that i had a satisfaction in looking on. we saw lumps of iron, intensely white-hot, and in all but a melting state, passed through rollers of various size and pressure, and speedily converted into long bars, which came curling and waving out of the rollers like great red ribbons, or like fiery serpents wriggling out of tophet; and finally, being straightened out, they were laid to cool in heaps. trip-hammers are very pleasant things to look at, working so massively as they do, and yet so accurately; chewing up the hot iron, as it were, and fashioning it into shape, with a sort of mighty and gigantic gentleness in their mode of action. what great things man has contrived, and is continually performing! what a noble brute he is!

also, i found much delight in looking at the molten iron, boiling and bubbling in the furnace, and sometimes slopping over, when stirred by the attendant. there were numberless fires on all sides, blinding us with their intense glow; and continually the pounding strokes of huge hammers, some wielded by machinery and others by human arms. i had a respect for these stalwart workmen, who seemed to be near kindred of the machines amid which they wrought,—mighty men, smiting stoutly, and looking into the fierce eyes of the furnace fearlessly, and handling the iron at a temperature which would have taken the skin off from ordinary fingers. they looked strong, indeed, but pale; for the hot atmosphere in which they live cannot but be deleterious, and i suppose their very strength wears them quickly out. but i would rather live ten years as an iron-smith than fifty as a tailor.

so much heat can be concentrated into a mass of iron, that a lump a foot square heats all the atmosphere about it, and burns the face at a considerable distance. as the trip-hammer strikes the lump, it seems still more to intensify the heat by squeezing it together, and the fluid iron oozes out like sap or juice.

"he was ready for the newest fashions!"—this expression was used by mrs. blodgett in reference to mr. ——— on his first arrival in england, and it is a very tender way of signifying that a person is rather poorly off as to apparel.

march 15th.—mr. ———, our new ambassador, arrived on thursday afternoon by the atlantic, and i called at the adelphi hotel, after dinner, to pay him my respects. i found him and his family at supper. . . . they seem to be plain, affable people. . . . the ambassador is a venerable old gentleman, with a full head of perfectly white hair, looking not unlike an old-fashioned wig; and this, together with his collarless white neckcloth and his brown coat, gave him precisely such an aspect as one would expect in a respectable person of pre-revolutionary days. there was a formal simplicity, too, in his manners, that might have belonged to the same era. he must have been a very handsome man in his youthful days, and is now comely, very erect, moderately tall, not overburdened with flesh; of benign and agreeable address, with a pleasant smile; but his eyes, which are not very large, impressed me as sharp and cold. he did not at all stamp himself upon me as a man of much intellectual or characteristic vigor. i found no such matter in his conversation, nor did i feel it in the indefinable way by which strength always makes itself acknowledged. b———, though, somehow, plain and uncouth, yet vindicates himself as a large man of the world, able, experienced, fit to handle difficult circumstances of life; dignified, too, and able to hold his own in any society. mr. ——— has a kind of venerable dignity; but yet, if a person could so little respect himself as to insult him, i should say that there was no innate force in mr. ——— to prevent it. it is very strange that he should have made so considerable a figure in public life, filling offices that the strongest men would have thought worthy of their highest ambition. there must be something shrewd and sly under his apparent simplicity; narrow, cold, selfish, perhaps. i fancied these things in his eyes. he has risen in life by the lack of too powerful qualities, and by a certain tact, which enables him to take advantage of circumstances and opportunities, and avail himself of his unobjectionableness, just at the proper time. i suppose he must be pronounced a humbug, yet almost or quite an innocent one. yet he is a queer representative to be sent from brawling and boisterous america at such a critical period. it will be funny if england sends him back again, on hearing the news of ———'s dismissal. mr. ——— gives me the impression of being a very amiable man in his own family. he has brought his son with him, as secretary of legation,—a small young man, with a little mustache. it will be a feeble embassy.

i called again the next morning, and introduced mrs. ———, who, i believe, accompanied the ladies about town. this simplicity in mr. ———'s manner puzzles and teases me; for, in spite of it, there was a sort of self-consciousness, as if he were being looked at,—as if he were having his portrait taken.