is woman to be turned out into the streets of that
fearful Babylon. No wonder, then, the poor soul was frantic with
despair. In her poverty a shilling looked as big as a cartwheel, and
when I said to her: "Will you promise to go direct home if I give you a
sovereign?" she cried out: "Oh, sir, God forever bless you if you will!"
I gave her the $5, and as she started to run I caught her by the sleeve
and said: "I will go home with you to see if you have told me the
truth." She lived close by, in one of those teeming courts that run off
from the Strand. We found her baby naked on a heap of rags, in a small,
dirty room, containing two broken chairs for furniture. I felt that
there were in the large city thousands of similar cases, but this one
was brought home to me. I was young and impressionable--more than that,
I had other people's money to be liberal with; so I called up the
landlady, who, almost dumb with surprise, received the arrears of rent,
along with a month in advance. Eliza, for that was her name, told me she
could get work if she had clean clothes for herself and baby, which she
could buy for L2. I gave her five, and giving her my address in New
York, told her to find work and let me know how she got on. She did find
work in an eel-pie shop in Red Lion Square, High Holborn. I saw her two
years later in London, and possibly may refer to her again in this
story.

* * * * *

I went down to Liverpool and embarked on the good ship Java. Ten days
later we sailed through the Narrows.

During my last day in London I went to Westminster Abbey, and spent
three hours in that Valhalla of the Anglo-Saxon race. It made a
tremendous impression upon my mind. In no other work of human hands do
the spirits of so many departed heroes linger, certainly in no other
does the dust of so many of the great dead rest, and as I read memorial
upon memorial to departed greatness I realized that the path of honor
and of truth was the only one for men to tread. All through the voyage
the influences of the Abbey were upon me; I felt I was treading on
dangerous ground, and resolved I would have no more of it. Would I had
then resolved, when I met Irving & Co., to throw all the plunder in
their faces and say: "I'll have none of it, and here we part!" I felt
that I ought to do that, but weakly said: "I need the $10,000, and I'll
give the rogues their share and then see them no more." I had fully made
up my mind