twice. Poor man! But they say the officiates here are unbeneficed gownsmen, and perhaps they cannot afford to study. His sermon was dull and common-place, but delivered in a pompous, affected style, as if to pass it off for genuine eloquence.

DINED with Rev. T. HARTWELL HORNÉ a name well known throughout the theological world. This extraordinary man was a book-seller's clerk, at a small salary. He distinguished himself by his industry, won the notice of a reverend Bishop, and was employed to make some indexes to a large work, which were done so well, that he was handsomely paid, and went to Cambridge and completed his education with the fruits of his labors. His celebrated 'Introduction to the Study of the Scriptures,' in four large volumes, was the work of twenty years, and was all done in the night, after the business of the day was over. It is acknowledged to be the most accurate, comprehensive, and valuable work of the kind in the language. Fifteen thousand copies have been sold in England, and as many more in the United States, and yet the three first editions scarcely cleared expenses: the third produced him about one hundred and fifty pounds for the labor of twenty years! Mr. Horne is now engaged at the British Museum in preparing a catalogue of that immense collection. He is a living monument of industry and perseverance. He is rather small in stature, remarkably neat in his personal appearance, and quite active and robust, though now somewhat advanced, and gray-headed. His manner is free, cordial, and business-like. The moment he speaks, you are at once relieved of all embarrassment, and feel that you are talking to a friend a plain, kind-hearted, unassuming friend. His wife and daughter are just like him. They spoke of the many Americans who had called on them Bishops Chase, M'Ilvaine, Hobart, Dr. Wheaton, E. D. Griffin, Dr. Jarvis, and Rev. Mr. Potter, formerly of Boston. In fact, they knew more about some of the states than I did. Mrs. H. said she could always detect an American by the word possible and possibly. They (the English) say instead, perhaps, or indeed. I was pleased to find many American books in the library, and seated myself there with Mr. H. after dinner, while he wrote his sermon for the same afternoon. He completed it in about an hour, besides talking to me the while: and a good little sermon it was too, for I went with them to hear it. The parsonage-pew is close to the desk. The clerk drawled out the service in a most monotonous and pompous tone, which was really Judicrous. There was also a curate to read prayers, beside Mr. Horne. It seems, that in England each church must have a rector, curate, and clerk. Mr. Horne's manner in the pulpit is meek, persuasive, and engaging. He uses the best words, and no more than are necessary. Yet he would never be called a great preacher. His talents are more useful than showy.

THURSDAY. Having an hour or two of leisure, after running about town for a week on business matters, I took a stroll into St.

James' Park, through Waterloo-Place, where is a big monument to somebody, but it was so high I could not tell who. Walked through the park by the pond to the old Palace, where the king was holding a levee. As I had no court dress, and no introduction, I concluded to defer paying my respects to his majesty, and turned off to Westminster Abbey.

Mercy! what a place! Every thing of this kind must and will far exceed the expectations of the uninitiated. I gazed with as much wonder on the gigantic and venerable pile, as if I had never heard of it before. The natural feeling of awe with which one is impressed on approaching the entrance, is not much increased, however, when he sees the sign over the door, 'Admittance three pence.' John Bull must have his fees, it seems, for every thing, and does not scruple to fill his pockets by exhibiting the sepulchres of the mighty dead. I thought of the man who was awakened from his solemn reverie after public worship in the Abbey, by the beadle's announcement:

'Sarvice is done - it's two-pence now
For them as wants to stop!'

I entered by the Poet's Corner, which, and indeed the whole of the abbey, has been described so often, that nothing more need be said. Having 'done' the poets, I paid an additional shilling to proceed, and was then at liberty to go where I pleased; and it is no very short walk, that one may take through those long, lofty arches and chapels. Monuments of all sorts, and to all sorts, are as thick as blackberries, in every part of the edifice. Many of them comprise three or four emblematic figures in a group · some most exquisitely designed and chiselled. I saw so many to admire, that I can scarcely remember one. There are little enclosures against the walls of the abbey, filled with tombs and monuments, principally of kings, queens, and knights of old. It was curious indeed to see those effigies of knights in complete armor, cut in stone or wrought in iron, laid out on the tombs, as if they were the very bodies of those renowned heroes of chivalry, preserved there to frighten or enlighten their degenerate descendants. Many of these tombs are four, five, and six centuries old. Mary Queen of Scots has a beautiful one. There is a marble effigy of her, too, laid out on the tomb, and you can easily imagine you are seeing the lovely and ill-fated queen herself, as she appeared in her death-robes. The haughty Elizabeth sleeps in an adjoining apartment. I noticed, also, monuments and sculptures of the two princes murdered in the Tower by the bloody Richard, of Henry Eighth, and indeed of all the kings and queens since Edward First. The monuments to public individuals, and those who have distinguished themselves, are in the more open part of the abbey. Folios and quartos in abundance have been filled with their history and description; and to these I must refer you for 'farther particulars.'

FRIDAY. To-day I procured a nice little saddle-horse, and took a ride round the parks -going up the gay and splendid Regent-street and Portland Place, by the Colosseum, the Crescent, and the range of

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52

terraces, which are like one continued palace, along Regent's Park. I stopped at the Zoological Gardens, which are very like Niblo's, as they are laid out; but besides the immense collection of plants and flowers of almost all species, fountains, etc., here are wild animals, quadrupeds, birds, and amphybiæ, of many species which have never been exhibited in our country, and you see them almost in their natural state; not chained up in cages and close rooms, but allowed free air and exercise. Bears were climbing poles; and scores of water-birds were revelling in the luxuries of a pond. There are more than two hundred different species of parrots, and all are together. But the chief lions' at present, are the beautiful Giraffes and their attending Arabs, recently arrived. Well, as I was saying, I made the circuit of Regent's Park, and then rode down to Hyde Park, which is smaller, but more frequented. Hyde Park Corner is famous all over the world. Nothing can exceed the gayety and splendor of the scene on a fine afternoon, at this season - the superb equipages of the great, with the gold-laced and crimson-velveted footman - the ladies and gentlemen on horseback in another path, and the pedestrians in a third — but all mingled in dashing confusion. I rode boldly in among the best of them, and had a fine chance to inspect the interior of the carriages, and the pretty faces of my lady this, and the duchess of that for many of these great ladies are really pretty- and with what exquisite neatness and elegance some of them dress! The ladies on horseback invariably wear men's hats literally, and without the least alteration, except that a black veil is appended. This is the fashion at present. What a luxury these parks are, in such a city as this! To have a fine open space of three or four hundred acres, kept in the nicest order, with foot-paths, and carriage-paths, groves and ponds, etc., surrounded by a collection of palaces! I can well believe Willis' remark, that the West End of London is unequalled in Europe. One of Miss Edgeworth's heroes rescued a child from drowning in the Serpentine river.' When I read it, the idea of a river, in what I imagined a little park, somewhat larger than Washington-Square, seemed laughable enough; but this Serpentine river is in this park, and might drown the king, if he should fall into it. The Humane Society have a house and boats close by, to receive the luckless wights who get drowned. There is good fishing in the river, and it looks fresh and clear, and it is delightful to ride along its banks on a warm day. These parks, especially Regent's, would make a large farm. They afford abundant room for an airy ride or walk, without going out of the city. At Hyde Park Corner is Apsley House, the duke of Wellington's residence, and close by is the colossal statue of Achilles, cast from cannon taken in the duke's battles, and erected to commemorate them by 'his countrywomen.'

LAST Saturday I took it into my head to go to Woolwich, nine miles from London, to help the Prince of Orange review the troops. By dint of active exertion, I attained a seat on the deck of a bit of a steam-boat, loaded with two hundred and fifty pleasure-seeking

mortals like myself, while as many more were left disconsolate on the wharf- inadmissible. Off we went with the tide, under Westminster, Waterloo, Blackfriars, Southwark, and London Bridges, over Thames Tunnel, and between a multitude of ships and steamboats, large boats and small boats, rowed perhaps by a Jacob Faithful, or his posterity, and following the serpentine course of Old Father Thames' through a beautiful green meadow, passed Greenwich, and arrived at our ultimatum in good time to see the show. The prince was dressed as a general, decorated with half-a-dozen badges of different orders; and he galloped about the field in true military style, accompanied by his two sons, and a squadron of princes, dukes, lords, etc. They fired bombs, and had a grand imitation-battle, with horse-artillery in other words, a sham-fight, which was all vastly fine. Returning, I walked to Greenwich, three miles, where, as you know, is the observatory from which longitude is reckoned all over the world, as the school-girls are well aware. The observatory is on a high, steep hill, in the centre of a large and beautiful park, filled with hills and dales, deer, trees, ponds, and every thing pretty. The prospect from the observatory is superb. London on the left- St. Paul's and a few spires only peeping above the dun smoke the Thames, winding about in a zig-zag direction, covered with the 'freighted argosies' of all nations, some just arrived perhaps from the East Indies or the North pole -some destined for Botany Bay or Nootka Sound; beyond, the green hills and meadows; and at your feet this lovely park, and the noble hospital for seamen, on the banks of the river. It is a scene for a painter.

TO-DAY I have 'done' Thames Tunnel, and laughed at the humors of an English country fair, in true, genuine style, at Greenwich. The tunnel is just like the pictures of it. You have to descend as many steps to get to it as would take you to a church steeple. I walked to the end of this subterraneous cavern, where they were at work, under the very centre of the river. Ugh! Only to think of being at the mercy of those frail brick arches, under the very bed of a mighty river, on which the largest ships are moving over our heads! What if they should come in contact with the arches, at low water! The whole place would be instantly filled, and wo to the luckless wight who happens to be in it! In case of such an accident, there is no chance of escape.

The fair was amusing enough. The immense park I have described was the principal scene, and thousands of country beaux and lasses were cutting up all sorts of capers. Some were running down the steep hills, with dangerous velocity, and many a poor girl fell sprawling in the attempt. Some, in groups, were listening to a strolling songster-some looking through the telescopes and glasses, on the beautiful landscape. Here and there a ring was formed, in which the damsels challenged their swains, by throwing a glove, and then scampering away. The favored one gives chase, brings back the blushing fair one, and gives her a kiss in the centre of the ring. There were many very well dressed and passably pretty girls

among them. I joined in without any ceremony, determined to make the best of the sport. It was marvellous what a sensation I produced! The girls threw the gauntlet as fast as I could overtake them and merry chases they were.

You will recollect, from Kenilworth,' that Elizabeth kept her court at Greenwich, and went from thence to Deptford in a barge, to visit the earl of Sussex - which same voyage I also performed. The same inn where the scene opens, at Cumnor, is yet used as such, but the sign had been altered. When the novel came out, the Oxford students went out to Cumnor, four miles, and persuaded mine host to let them put up the sign of The Bear' again. The bishops, Ridley and Latimer, were burnt in Broad-street, Oxford, and Antony Foster there acquired his nick-name by firing the faggots.' I saw 'Kenilworth' performed at Drury Lane, and it was very well done. The haughty, worthy, sensible, capricious queen was to the life.