dred wide, the whole under cover of an iron roof-the stairways, and all the floors are of polished oak, the rooms of the president and directors, agents, and clerks, are richly carpeted and furnished. The rails from London through Bristol to Bath, are seven and a half feet apart, and between the rails and stone, is placed the whole distance, felt of one-eighth of an inch in thickness, which causes the cars to run without much noise, similar to a coach going over a smooth plank bridge, and the great width of the rails is preventive from running off, when at the greatest speed. The cars are not inferior to a nobleman's coach in finish, make and appearance, made to carry six persons only. The linings are of rich silk and fine cloth, richly carpeted, each seat is made similar to an easy arm-chair, each side running up, with an easy place to rest the head, and so arranged that no one can be in any wise incommoded by his opposite or next neighbour. Under the seats are places for canes, umbrellas, small packages, &c. One large-sized plate-glass admits the light, to which is added a crimson spring curtain and blind, to be used when necessary. These splendid cars are made double, owing to the great width of the rails, having a door similar to the entrance door in the side, also holding six; the door can be closed or not at option, which makes it very convenient for families or parties in going any distance. The luggage is carried on the top of each, under cover. A person can read or converse in these splendid and noiseless cars, as well as in his own private room, while going forty miles the hour.

The plan of placing felt under rails, is now being adopted on all the new railways in England, and on the Continent, and I trust the example will be followed by the railway companies in the United States, and the now deafening rattle of rails and loose windows prevented, so very unpleasant to all, more so to the invalid, or one fond of reading. I have travelled on nearly all the railways in the United States, and never at any time have I had the good fortune of riding in a car in which I could indulge myself in reading or conversation, from the constant noise made by the loose windows and jarring of the rails, reminding me of a cotton factory when in full operation. There is certainly room for improvement, and I trust in this enlightened age, advantage will be taken of it by our enterprising railroad companies throughout the Union, at the earliest moment. Pro bono publico.

The ancient city of Bath is thirteen miles from Bristol, and Mr. J informing me that the great annual agricultural show would be held there the next day, and at which I should have a fine opportunity of not only seeing the nobility and gentry, but the products of Somersetshire, in all their variety, also, of visiting the old Abbey and city, and trying the new railway and cars, which were at my service then and at all times while I remained

in the county, and should I go up to London, he hoped I would accept his invitation to occupy a seat with him the following week, for that city. His first polite proposal I accepted, and the next morning at nine o'clock, I was set down at the station in Bath, and immediately set out to see the show in Adelaide's Park. Having attended such shows in Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, I was greatly disappointed at what I saw, both in quality and quantity, and should not be mentioned in comparison with those in the United States. There was, however, a good turn out of the nobility and their children, as well as the gentry and commoners, with their little ones, which made it very pleasant for a couple of hours.

Bath is also situated on the Avon. This city has been famous from the time of the Romans for its medical hot-springs, which still make it a place of great resort for the nobility and gentry. Bath exceeds every town in England in splendour and elegance of buildings, they being constructed of a white stone, and in the best style of architecture.

The

Adelaide's Park is spacious and beautifully laid out of late, surrounded with a neat paling, and its gates are open to all, and never closed, day or night. The nobility alone have the privilege of riding through it, same as at St. James's Park, London. Cathedral, called the Abbey, is truly a magnificent edifice; and there are also several churches and chapels worthy of notice, modern and ancient. The foundation of the Abbey was commenced and built as high as the side-walk before the birth of Christ, a piece of which I brought away for examination. Its exterior, to my eye, appeared more strikingly ancient than Westminster Abbey. Among the vast number of marble tablets that decorate its walls in memory of the departed, to my surprise I saw one to the memory of my great-great-grandmother, the portraits of whose daughter and grand-daughter, in ancient frames, are now in my possession. There were tablets to the memory of Quinn, George Gordon, uncle to the late Lord Byron, Beau Nash, &c. All the aisles and floor are laid with tablets of white marble, with inscriptions. Its organ, to my ear, is inferior to many I heard in some of the village churches.

The white stone crescent buildings in Bath make a most beautiful appearance. They number about fifty, formed into a crescent, and are let only to the families of the nobility. The ladies shop and make their calls in small carriages made for the purpose. They only hold one person, with four small wheels, swinging very low, the top coming well over for shelter from rain or sun, an apron high up in front, with a neat rod which is attached to the front wheels, by which the lady guides it, acting on the principle of a rudder to a boat; also it has a gauze curtain, similar to a veil, to

be used or not in front. When a lady wishes to make a hasty call, or go to a shop, she has no need to be an hour in changing her dress, or shoes, but only to put on her bonnet and shawl, rain or shine, call for her carriage, jump in and order the man or boy to push along. He obeys, not knowing where he is going, the lady steering her beautiful little carriage into any shop, or to any house, in any part of the city; can be screened from all eyes at option, with but little trouble, no expense, and under no obligation to any gentleman to escort her. I saw many of them on the side-walks, shopping, and also several in the park; the ladies in the latter appeared to be invalids taking the air. I should think such snug cheap conveyances would answer well in the United States. It is only for a lady of fashion to order one, and they would soon become, as it were, an indispensable article.

I returned to Bristol by the late evening train, after having passed one of the most pleasant days since arriving in England, and the following morning rode out with a friend to visit Berkley Castle, twelve miles from Bristol, the most ancient baronial castle in England, now owned by the Earl of Seagrave. On giving the usual loud summons, the wicket over its heavy portals opened, when the warder, on hearing our wish, informed us as the castle was undergoing extensive repairs, the Earl had left orders for no one to be admitted. Informing him I was from America, and desired to see the court-yard without entering the castle, he reluctantly threw open the ponderous gates. It is kept up in the old feudal style, and its ancient, now silent, untenanted towers, show what they once contained; and though so near the Channel, it was made almost impregnable from an invading foe. The court-yard is paved, and capable of holding a small army, the walls high, and of massive thickness.

This castle was once the residence of kings, and many were the tournaments given within its walls. Alas! what a change has old Time brought about; food for the mind given to contemplation, but it is some time before these scenes can be brought back from centuries past, and with them all who figured in the by-gone days of chivalry, never again to be witnessed in old England. We were refreshed by the old warder coming from his sanctorum, with a pewter can of olden times, filled with foaming ale, which he said, with a half-serious look, was brewed when old Cromwell held the castle. After handing him a fee for his politeness, we returned to Bristol. Early the following morning found me retracing my way back to Birmingham.

While at Birmingham, I was invited to a small evening party, and there had the deep mortification in meeting with a gentleman and lady, but lately married, from one of the principal cities in the United States, on a tour of pleasure-the lady not knowing how

to read or write, or speak her own language correctly. She was dressed as fashionable as her milliner understood how to cut an English dress, with a large gold watch, to which were appended a pair of large gold seals and keys, all dangling in sight, much to the amusement of the ladies and pity of the gentlemen present, but to the delight of her doating husband, who could make out to read a newspaper, and with difficulty write his autograph. But with filthy lucre all was made to pass off very well. I met the happy couple afterwards in London, on a Sunday morning, as I was coming from St. Paul's. They were standing at the corner of Ludgate Hill and Old Bailey, with a small crowd around them; the lady had a neat riding whip in her hand, which she had just bought of a boy vending them, and this caused quite a crowd to see what was going on. I joined them and walked up the street. ing her why she bought a whip, she laughingly observed"To hide the boys and fellows who stopped to look at her as she went along the streets."

On ask

From Birmingham to London is one hundred and twelve miles by railway-fare sixteen shillings-running time three hours. Having no wish to enter London by the railway, my friend proposed to pay our fare as far as the Boxmoor station, twenty miles from London, and there take a private conveyance and enter the city at our leisure. On arriving at Boxmoor, my friend still insisting on acting purser and pilot, hired a handsome landau and pair, with a dashing coachman, who drove us to Hampstead, ten miles, through a country which appeared as a garden the whole distance. After stopping to dine, and allowing time for the hire of a fresh pair of horses, during which we roamed about the pretty village, the landau drew up, and having now but ten miles to reach London, we leisurely wended our way to that vast metropolis, over the finest road in the world, and crowded with vehicles of all kinds. For three miles we were riding through the densely-inhabited suburbs before entering the city, and at six o'clock of a Saturday afternoon, we drove into Euston Square, and were set down at the splendid Victoria Hotel, owned and built by the Liverpool and London Railway Company.

CHAPTER XIV.

London; Its Environs; Euston Square; Railway terminus; Victoria and Adelaide Hotels; Avenues to London; Noblemen and Citizens' Country-seats; Hints to Tourists; Streets; Their names and number; Districts; Appearance of the Houses; West End; Business streets; Shipping; Their appearance; Situation of London; Its soil; Private Lodgings; Police; Beggars; London at midnight; Its squares; Their appearance; American Minister; His influence at Court, and distinguished honours by the Queen to his Lady; The Parks; Hyde Park; Its size, appearance, and accommodations, &c.

THE terminus of the Liverpool and Birmingham Railway is at Euston Square, West End, near which stands two of the most splendid and spacious hotels in London: the Victoria and Adelaide, owned and built by the Railway Company at an immense cost. These hotels stand facing each other on the square, which, with the magnificent towering stone arch at the railway, facing the square eastward, adds greatly to its appearance. This arch, merely built as an ornament to the Station-House, cost the Company £10,000 sterling. The hotels are under one proprietor, and midway between them, is the great kitchen, communicating by a welllighted subterranean passage to both establishments, which are 200 yards apart. The tourist has only to select a chamber, at a high or low price, for which he is charged during his stay, and pays only for what he chooses to call for, optional with him to have his meals there, or elsewhere. The Globe Hotel, New York, is kept on the same plan and princely style, which has not its superior in the United States.

For twenty miles around London the lands form a rich and highly interesting appearance, cultivated as a beautiful garden, thickly dotted here and there with the country-seats of noblemen, houses of the gentry and wealthy citizens, rows of villas of tasteful architectural fronts and neat picturesque boxes of the citizens—and all the broad avenues leading into this Babylon of the 19th century, appear as smooth and cleanly as a bowling green. The street