same day of the city
ladies, for considering the condition of milliners and dressmakers, and
to form a society for their relief to act in conjunction with that of
the west end.

After a little we began to talk of separating; the lord mayor to take
his seat in the House of Commons, and the rest of the party to any other
engagement that might be upon their list.

"Come, let us go to the House of Commons," said one of my friends, "and
make a night of it." "With all my heart," replied I, "if I only had
another body to go into to-morrow."

What a convenience in sight-seeing it would be if one could have a relay
of bodies, as of clothes, and go from one into the other. But we, not
used to the London style of turning night into day, are full weary
already; so, good night.

LETTER XIV.

ROSE COTTAGE, WALWORTH, LONDON, May 2.

MY DEAR:--

This morning Mrs. Follen called, and we had quite a long chat together.
We are separated by the whole city. She lives at West End, while I am
down here in Walworth, which is one of the postscripts of London; for
London has as many postscripts as a lady's letter--little suburban
villages which have been overtaken by the growth, of the city, and
embraced in its arms. I like them a great deal better than the city, for
my part.

Here now, for instance, at Walworth, I can look out at a window and see
a nice green meadow with sheep and lambs feeding in it, which is some
relief in this smutty old place. London is as smutty as Pittsburg or
Wheeling. It takes a good hour's steady riding to get from here to West
End; so that my American friends, of the newspapers, who are afraid I
shall be corrupted by aristocratic associations, will see that I am at
safe distance.

This evening we are appointed to dine with the Earl of Carlisle. There
is to be no company but his own family circle, for he, with great
consideration, said in his note that he thought a little quiet would be
the best thing he could offer. Lord Carlisle is a great friend to
America; and so is his sister, the Duchess of Sutherland. He is the only
English traveller who ever wrote notes on our country in a real spirit
of appreciation. While the Halls, and Trollopes, and all the rest could
see nothing but our breaking eggs on the wrong end, or such matters, he
discerned and interpreted those points wherein lies the real strength of
our growing country. His notes on America were not very extended, being
only sketches delivered