Grecian temple. It stands upon a rough, coarse basement, on which rise beautiful marble columns, each weighing twenty-six tuns, and being thirty-six feet high, forming one of the most beautiful exteriors seen in England. The hall is one hundred and forty-five feet long, sixty-five broad, and sixty-five high, making six hundred thousand cubic feet, and is capable of seating nearly five thousand persons, and standing an indefinite number of others.

In this hall is an immense organ, which is thus described by an inhabitant of Birmingham: "The organ case is forty feet wide, forty-five feet high, and seven teen feet deep. The largest wood pipe measures, in the interior, two hundred and twenty-four cubic feet. The bellows of the organ contains three hundred square feet of surface, and upwards of three tuns weight upon the bellows are required to give the necessary pressure. It is calculated that the trackers in the organ, if laid out in a straight line, would reach above five miles. There are seventy-eight draw stops, four sets of keys, and above four thousand pipes. The weight of the instrument is about forty tuns; it cost about four thousand pounds, and in the depth, power, variety, and sweetness of its tone, far surpasses any in Europe." This latter assertion is a matter of doubt, inasmuch as there are one or two others equal, if not superior, to this.

From the hall I found my way to the grammar school founded by Edward VI., in 1552. The building used by this school is a fine Gothic edifice, of very elaborate design, quadrangular in form, with a front one hundred and seventy-four feet long, and was erected at a cost of about forty thousand pounds. The school is divided into two departments, one for the study of the English branches, and the other for the classics.

This school was founded, and originally supported, by the income of a piece of land amounting to but thirtyone pounds. In consequence of improvements being made on and around it, the income has now increased to seven thousand pounds. About five hundred boys are here educated, without expense to their parents, by one principal and twelve or fifteen assistants. The principal received us with much courtesy, and conducted us through the various apartments. His salary is four hundred pounds. This school forms a most noble charity, and is one of the ornaments of that great city. There are four other schools, which, in a city of about two hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants, give instruction to about one thousand children, on the same foundation.

As I left the school, and passed along to St. Martin's Church, which was said to be a curiosity in its way, I saw the celebrated statue of Nelson, in bronze, which was executed nearly a half century ago, at an expense of about twenty-five hundred pounds. Statues of Nelson may be found all over England, as thick as gods in India. He is the naval hero of the nation, and “Nile” and "Trafalgar" are names known to the most ignorant children in the highways. His notable words, "England expects every man to do his duty," form the motto of thousands, and are inscribed on marble and engraved in brass and iron.

We arrived at the old church, which was built about nine hundred years ago, by William de Birmingham. It was cased with brick about two hundred years ago, to keep it from falling down. The most notable things about this church are the effigies in marble, as large as life, which are supposed to have been made about ten centuries ago, and are here preserved. Very curious

would they be in some museum of antiquities, but in a Christian church are only deformities, which turn the mind of the worshiper away from the true God. As I stood in this venerable structure, and looked up to its crumbling walls, the brevity of man impressed itself most powerfully upon my mind. Here, I thought, is an edifice which has outlived its designer, and all who saw it rise; and even the page of history does not tell when its foundations were laid, while brief man continues only threescore years and ten, and then decays. There are some singularly constructed and singularly named churches in all the old English towns. I frequently saw churches called by the following names: “ All Saints," "St. Catharine's," "St. George's," "St. Bride's," "St. Sepulcher's," and one or two blasphemously bore the name of "St. Savior."

As my object in traveling was more to see men than things, I inquired one evening for some place of literary entertainment, or religious worship, and was informed that Rev. John Angell James was to preach in his lecture-room in Carr's Street. I found the place, and went into a small room, dingy in appearance, irregular in form, poorly lighted. The people were singing as I entered, all over the house, in one of the most harmo-· nious discords I ever heard. Mr. James was in the pulpit; he is about sixty years of age, inclining slightly to corpulency. His hair is gray, his countenance full, and beaming with English good nature. He is not like our lean, pale, cadaverous looking clergymen, who glide like specters into their pulpits, and squeak out a dolorous sound which they call a sermon, and retire, as their congregation sometimes. imagine, to their tombs, but a robust Englishman, who looked as well able to hold the plough, or eat a dinner, as to write a sermon.

His

His text, on this occasion, was from Isaiah. theme, as near as I could discover, was, the presence of God the joy of the church. This was treated under two general divisions: 1. God in the church. (a.) By the mediation of Christ. (b.) By His providences. (c.) By His Holy Spirit. 2. The duty of the Christian to rejoice in this fact. (a.) Because the condition of the church is secure. (b.) Because her progress is onward. (c.) Her ultimate triumph is certain. This discourse was evidently delivered without much previous preparation. The style was heavy and lumberous, and I left the chapel disappointed. Had this been my only opportunity of hearing this distinguished man, I should have regretted that I heard him at all. But when I listened to him afterwards, in Exeter Hall and other places, all I had ever anticipated in his eloquence was more than realized.

At the close of the service, I had a few minutes' conversation with him. His conversational powers are great; he inquired about our country with much interest, and said, "All the world is looking to America." He evidently has few of those feelings common to the people of England, which lead them to look down with contempt upon any thing and any person from America. His comprehensive mind looks upon the vast extent and rising energy of the new world with a pleasure and solicitude which indicate his acquaintance with our institutions and prospects. And here I may remark, that I found throughout England a great degree of ignorance, among people generally well informed, in relation to our country. The people. are acquainted with the plans and politics of France, Austria, Russia, and other European nations, but seem to be almost entirely destitute of information as to

our geography, institutions, and progress. The general tone of remark in many circles would indicate that the people of America are but a step removed from barbarism, descendants of Indians - Indians themselves, slightly improved. A few instances of this will show my meaning. In conversation, one day, with a well-educated physician of London, our remarks turned upon the modes of living in America; and one thing leading to another, I was soon aware that my kind and intelligent host believed that Americans, instead of rising and quietly retiring from the table after dinner, would throw their feet upon the board, and, if they wished, spit across, on, or under the table, as was most convenient. The habit of spitting is considered pecu liarly odious, and peculiarly American; and many per sons imagine that we are in the vulgar habit of spitting in the pulpit, at the table, on ladies' dresses, and in the hats of friends. But as vulgar as the habit is, and as prevalent among us as it may be, it cannot be more objectionable to them than the vulgar habit of snuff-taking, which prevails in Europe, is to us. I have seen snuff taken in the stage, in the family, in the store, at the table, and in the pulpit, by men who make the highest claim to gentility and fashionable education. A distinguished clergyman in Paris, on the day when I went to hear him, paused at the close of every division of an able discourse, and deliberately drawing his snuff-box from his pocket, used its contents, and then went to preaching again as furiously as a farmer would go to mowing after a potent dram.

Of our geography they seem to know as little as of our habits. A clergyman asked me one day if New England was in Massachusetts. Had I asked him if Europe was in Italy, he would have ridiculed my