one had passed from our view into some diy abode, to swallow in Laste an -prepared meal and we amused to see no familiar countenances and scenes, but to give upon the strange streets and buildings of one of the cities of the old world

This much dose, we bargained with a Lackey to drive us about the city, and show us the Hons of the place. We drove rapidly out to Manchester College. a fine edifice, ornamented with turrets, and surmounted by a tower, and located in a charming spot; by St. Margaret's Church, which our driver (wishing to tell us it did not belong to the establishment) said was independent of all religions; to the barracks of the horse and foot soldiers, quartered here to the number of several hundreds, supported in their lazy dignity by government; to Salford Borough Museum, a most valuable institution, designed to bring the means of reading and recreation within the reach of the poorer classes-its halls filled with people of the lower order, its walls hung with fine paintings, its museums of the choicest selections, its windows commanding an extensive and beautiful view, and all brought by the hand of charity within the reach of the poorest laborer, who has not a shilling which he can call his own; to the Exchange, one of the largest rooms in England, where several hundreds of men were all talking at once; to banks, halls, and parks, — until we began to feel acquainted with the city and its inhabitants. There is a cathedral in Manchester; and never havThe old church ing seen one, I was anxious to do so. dignified by this appellation was built in the time of Henry VIII. Exteriorly it is rough, ragged, and uncomely. The architecture is of no definite order, irregular, confused, and inelegant. On the tower,

several hideous-looking images are carved, their heads protruding, as if so many demons were glaring out upon the churchyard beneath. In entering the edifice, we pass through the yard, over the flat slabs laid down to mark the graves of the dead. We reach the building, and pass through the vestibule into the interior, where the floor is composed of marble slabs, bearing inscriptions nearly effaced by time. The walls are marred and disfigured by these mementoes of death. The interior compares with the exterior, as to the confusion and irregularity of the architecture. In the centre aisle is an eagle, with spread wings, standing on a ball. This serves as a reading-desk. Behind is the chancel, of very ample proportions, finely decorated, and very Popish in its appearance. On one side is a box, called the pulpit, into which the minister mounts when he performs that very unimportant appendage to the English church service-the sermon. The pews all bear the marks of "a century ago." They are numbered and labeled, according to the rank and grade of those who occupy them. One was for the treasurer, one for the recorder, and down through all the grades of office in the city government. The families of these functionaries sit apart, in pews numbered and marked with their distinctive offices. One pew or bench we saw marked "the stranger's pew." A long bench for the church-wardens bore the date of 1687. On one side, under the gallery, was the baptismal font, of white marble, with inscriptions deemed appropriate by those who placed them there, such as, "Not by works of righteousness that we have done," &c. The cover of this vessel was a finely-carved piece of wood, suspended by a chain from the ceiling above. It was spiral in its form, of Gothic order, and was about six

feet high, from the top of the basin. We raised this cover, and dipped our sacrilegious hands into the font, which was filled with water, but were conscious of no healing efficacy being derived therefrom. My idea of a cathedral was not realized in this first specimen ; and I went away thinking I could remember an old church in America more beautiful in my estimation, and associated in my mind with more hallowed memories, than this proud and venerable pile, which has stood on this spot so many years, and to which kings and princes came to worship in days of yore.

Having been in England a few days, I began to notice the peculiarities of the people. We are accused of our “Yankeeisms”—our "I reckon” and “I guess,” and similar phrases, which are peculiar to the States. But we soon became convinced that our English friends have nothing to reproach us with on that score. On inquiring the way to our hotel, we were told that it was "a long bit of a way down;” or “a nice large piece up;" or "a big, long way over." If at the museum we asked the name of a certain bird, we were told that it was a "howl." Frequently we were told “the hair hout was ot," and "Prince Halbert" was described as a nice young gentleman. These provincialisms, which sound so strangely to our ears, are familiar to them; and our by-words and catch-phrases are as singular and uncomely in their estimation as are theirs to us: so, in these respects, the two countries have no reason to reproach each other.

Were I to sum up my idea of Manchester in a few words, I should say it was a larger city, a more quiet and orderly city, a neater and more beautiful city,more desirable as a place of residence, and less odious on account of its crowds of paupers, than I had before

imagined. I think the general impressions which exist in many minds in America in relation to this city are not well founded, and a visit to it would dissipate many of the erroneous impressions which now prevail so extensively.

We left Manchester for Birmingham one evening about dusk. Like lightning, or very certainly faster than I ever rode before, we passed towns which were so far below us that we could look down upon the roofs and chimneys; brooks and little ponds, where, in the fading light, swans could be seen flapping in the water; green bowers, where children, whose forms could scarcely be seen, were at play, and rich fields of grain, which waved in the night breeze, or nestled in the pale light of the new moon; brick yards, where men and women were employed; iron founderies, which sent out their lurid fires to render night more dismal; until all alike were concealed from us in the darkness of the night, save only some flashing fire from chimney, kiln, or foundery, which lent a dismal aspect to the surrounding blackness.

E

IV.

BIRMINGHAM.

We arrived at Birmingham late at night, and found the streets full of disorderly and half-drunken people. Some kind of a festival during the day had given “lewd fellows of the baser sort" an unusual license to indulgence, and we found our way to a hotel through clusters of profane, irreligious, and abandoned men and women. My first impressions of Birmingham were unfavorable; and I have noticed, in all my journeyings, that first impressions are the strongest, and cling to me sometimes after facts have proved that they were ill founded. These impressions were confirmed by a conversation I had with a policeman, whom I found in front of my hotel, who gave me a vivid description of some of the scenes of crime in this place. Pointing to a long, dark, narrow street, he said, "There are more crimes carried on and concealed in that street than in any one of its length in the world." Hence, I retired to rest with no very favorable idea of the good habits of the people of Birmingham. But the sun of the next morning, which arose bright and beautiful, and shed a flood of gladness over the great city, gave a more favorable representation than did the dark streets the evening before; and as I pursued my way from one public edifice to another, from one great industrial exhibition to another, all the impressions of the last night were effaced by the display of beauty, skill, and wealth which meets the eye in every direction.