CHAPTER III.

FIRST JOURNEY IN EUROPE.

1838-1839.

We came up the Channel with a gentle breeze, and anchored at half-past nine. At ten minutes past ten I set my feet on the soil (or rather the stone) of Old England. We were very fortunate in our ship, having made our voyage in twenty-one days; while the England (in which, you may remember, I once had intended to sail), which left New York on the first of November, came to anchor just ten minutes before us (thirty days). The Garrick, which sailed on the twenty-fifth of October, arrived here only on Saturday. I must close this letter early in the morning....

Evening.—This short English day has been occupied in good part in getting my luggage from the ship and through the custom house. I sallied out a little past nine in the morning; went first of all to a tailor and ordered a coat (which is to be finished and delivered this evening); then dispatched my letters for home by the United States; found our own ship just going into dock (what docks they are! but as we have always plenty of water we do not so much need them in New York); arranged my luggage, and then proceeded all hands to the custom house (a large new building, rather imposing in appearance), where I was detained until past three o’clock. I had fifteen pounds of books to pay duty upon (fifteen shillings), and nothing to complain of as to the manner of the examination.... After dinner, visited the market, which on Saturday evening is full and busy. It is about twice the size of all the New York markets put together, and a sight well worth seeing. I examined everything scrutinizingly, but will not trouble you with my observations....

Sunday evening, December 2.—Went this morning to the chapel of the school for the blind. The chanting and singing was very fine, and the sight an interesting one. But to me the solemnity of the church service is by no means increased by being chanted; heard a tolerable sermon. In the evening heard Dr. Raffles.[36] His chapel is a gloomy structure externally, but very neat and comfortable within. Dr. R. preached the first of a series of discourses “On the most remarkable events in the early history of the Israelites,” commencing with the bondage in Egypt, which was the subject this evening; a very good sermon, delivered in an impressive (but rather pompous) manner. I am very anxious to get to Glasgow. I have been living in society, for the last three weeks, by no means to my taste, and most of them are still here. It is not very pleasant to spend a Sabbath alone at a hotel; but I suppose I must needs become accustomed to it.

I was not fully aware, until yesterday, how much cause we had for thankfulness at our safe arrival. The gales which we encountered off the Irish coast have caused a great number of shipwrecks, and it is feared that many lives are lost. The England escaped most narrowly.

Feather’s Inn, Chester, Monday evening.—I have, my dear friend, the singular pleasure of writing and addressing to you another leaf of my journal from a city which was founded, according to the directory which lies before me, “in the year, 917 B.C., at which time Jehosaphat and Ahab governed Israel and Judah,”—the only walled and fortified city in England of which the walls are yet in a state of preservation. The city was rebuilt by Julius Cæsar, and was an important Roman station; and there yet remain many vestiges of Roman occupancy; a hypocaust is still to be seen under the hotel in which I am now staying,—so it is said, for I have not yet seen it, having arrived here after dark. But I expect to be very much interested in this queer old town, for which I owe thanks to Dr. Torrey, since it was his recommendation that induced me to come here. I have scampered about the streets this evening, bought some lithographic views, studied the directory, and am prepared for a busy day between Chester and Eaton Hall, should I live till to-morrow. But it is time I should tell you briefly how I got here. This morning soon after breakfast I walked out to the Botanic Garden, delivered a note of introduction to Shepherd,[37] who received me rather politely, inquired after Dr. Torrey, and showed me through the greenhouses. The establishment is not where it was when Dr. T. was here, but was removed further out of town, two or three years ago. The garden occupies eleven acres; the site is well chosen; but being newly planted there is of course little to see. The hothouses are very well, but not extensive; the collections not particularly interesting, except for some old plants that have belonged to the establishment many years.

I took my cloak and umbrella (necessary articles these!), and at 3 P.M. crossed the Mersey in a small uncomfortable black steamboat, about as much inferior to our Hoboken or Brooklyn ferry-boats as a Barnegat wood-schooner is to a packet-ship; and at Birkenhead took an outside seat for Chester (ten miles), though it rained often and blew hard and cold; had a good view of the country until about five miles from Chester, when it grew dark; saw little villages, farm-houses and cottages, cows, etc., all of which is much more interesting to me than the smoky town of Liverpool. I have seen several little things that are new to me. Let us see what I can recollect at the moment. Hedges of holly—those I am pleased with, particularly when sheared and clipped. The prettiest fence is a stone wall over-topped with a close hedge of holly. Ivy in profusion covering great walls, trees, etc., etc.,—we have nothing to compare with it; a flock of rooks,—very like crows, but larger; an English stagecoach,—more of that anon; a coach and four with postilions,—fine. But I must stop here.

P. S.—Liverpool again, Tuesday evening.—I have accomplished a good day’s work to-day. Rose early, made the circuit of the city of Chester on the walls before breakfast, explored all about the town; visited the cathedral, walked to Eaton Hall, four miles and back again; and then, finding there was no coach in the morning until nine o’clock, took an evening coach, and returned here ten P.M., much gratified, but a little fatigued; so good-night. A. G.

Glasgow (Woodside Crescent), December 12, 1838.

I do not just now feel like a traveler. I have been for almost a week, if not at home, yet the next thing to it, in the truly hospitable mansion of our good friends here, where I was received with that cordial kindness which you, having experienced before me, can well understand. Indeed I owe it chiefly to you, who I assure you are not forgotten here. Ecce signum. Both Sir William and Lady Hooker call me, oftener than anything else, by the name of Dr. Torrey. I answer to the name promptly, and am much flattered to be your representative.

I have just stuck fast here, busy among the plants from morning till night. I have been out of the house but twice (except to church on Sunday): once a walk into town with Mr. Hooker, Senior (kind and amiable old man, who insists upon taking me about, and showing me whatever he showed you), and once with Sir William to the Botanic Garden. I am anxious to improve every moment here, where there is so much to be done and such ample means. Arnott has written, inviting me to spend some time with him, which I hope to do, visiting him from Edinburgh, there being now no coach to Stirling or Kinross, from Glasgow direct.... Sir William has given me many interesting plants; we have settled many points of interest. He had our new Nuttallia all figured for the Supplement to “Flora Borealis Americana” as a new genus, and we have recently found it among plants from the Snake country, which, with Douglas’s and other Californian plants, he is publishing as a supplement to “Beechey’s Voyage.” I begged him to adopt the name Nuttallia. He offered at once to publish it as of Torrey and Gray, but I would not consent to this, and I am sure you would agree with me. He has in different ways a great share of Nuttall’s so far,—Pickeringia for instance (which is a shrubby Baptisia), Kentrophyta, etc. I shall be kept here ten days longer, I think; no one else abroad is so rich in North American botany or takes so much interest in it. I am requested to study all his Sandwich Island plants (including my own parcel here), and make an article for the “Annals of Natural History” while here. I think I will, if on looking over the parcels I think I can do the subject justice. Can’t Knieskern[38] safely make the excursion to Sante Fé in the coming spring? If he can, and will work hard, he will make $1000 clear of expenses! All the collectors make money. Hooker is very anxious about it. I hope to find the fifty copies of “Flora” at Wiley & Putnam’s on reaching London. I hope you have seen the partner at New York on the subject, and that the “Flora” will be advertised fully in London before I reach there. But I must close. Don’t fail to write very often. Sir William and Lady Hooker and all the family, old, young, and middle-aged, all send their most affectionate regards. I sit over against your portrait at dinner. It is very like you....

TO JOHN TORREY.

Kinross, Wednesday evening, January 2, 1839.

My journal will inform you of all my movements and doings, and also of the arrival of your welcome letter by the Liverpool, while I remained at Sir William’s. I am much distressed at the thought of your anticipated engagements with Princeton, and wish very much that you could have felt yourself warranted in delaying until after the expected meeting of the regents of the Michigan university, which was to take place on the 10th of December. While there is the slightest hope remaining I do not like to relinquish the thought that we may hereafter work together and live near each other. The fear that this may not be the case has of late rendered me much more anxious to obtain books and specimens, in order that I may get on by myself in case I shall be compelled to work alone. I need not attempt to tell you how much I have enjoyed my visit to Hooker. He is truly one of Nature’s noblemen. We worked very hard for twenty days, and I would have been glad to have stayed as much longer; for as yet I have looked into few books. All the collections of Carex placed in Boott’s hands have been returned to Hooker, and I assisted him in arranging them and selecting for his herbarium; in the course of which I have obtained specimens of nearly all the Northern and Oregonian ones, including one or two which have come in recently, of which I have, when there were duplicates, specimens also for you. The return numbers of those sent you were in many cases strangely misplaced, and Boott has often been sadly confounded. He has studied the genus very critically, hypercritically I may say; for he makes new species where we should think there were too many already. We went over Hooker’s Grasses in the same way, and I have obtained numerous specimens and much useful information which we shall presently require. On Christmas day Joseph Hooker selected from a large Van Dieman’s Land collection a suite of specimens as far as they have been studied (to Calycifloræ), in which there is in almost every instance a specimen for each of us....

In looking over the recent collections from the Snake country, and Douglas’s Californian, I recognized a great portion of Nuttall’s,[39] but by no means all. There was a single specimen of Kentrophyta in excellent fruit; another of Astrophia, with neither flower or fruit, collected long ago by Scouler and mixed in with a species of Hosackia, to which genus I am not sure that it is not nearly allied. Nuttall has made too many Hosackias! The copy of “Flora,” with my notes, has gone round to London, so that I cannot now communicate many curious things noted in the second part. But how did we overlook the Hosackia crassifolia twice over! I am glad you have the fruit of Chapmannia. I am a little afraid of Stylosanthes, of which there is a sort of monograph by Vogel in the current volume of the “Linnæa;” but no plurifoliate ones appear. Hooker has a curious new genus of Chenopodiaceæ, from the Rocky Mountains, figured for the “Icones,” which he wishes to call Grayia! I am quite content with a Pig-weed; and this is a very queer one.

At Glasgow, although my stay was prolonged to twenty days, I was unable in that time to accomplish all I wished with Hooker; and you may be sure we lost no time, and that I could spare very little to visit those objects of interest passing by. I did not omit, however, as you may well suppose, to visit the High Church (the old Cathedral), where I spent an interesting hour, having contrived to go there alone that I might enjoy myself in my own way. From this I visited the new cemetery, which occupies the summit of a hill adjacent to and overlooking the Cathedral. On the very summit, raised on a tall column, is a colossal figure of old John Knox in the attitude of preaching, but ever and anon he seems to cast a scowling look down upon the Cathedral, as if he were inclined to make another attempt to demolish its walls. And well he might, for if what I hear be true, I fancy he would find the preaching now heard within its walls almost as destitute of savor as when the shrine of the Virgin Mary occupied its place in the chapel which bears her name. The Cathedral is now undergoing some repairs; the seats, etc., for the church which occupied the nave are taken away, so that the fine nave presents nearly the original appearance. But the crypt, said to be the finest in the kingdom, is now closed and the key in the possession of an architect at Edinburgh, so that I could not obtain admittance. It was in this place, perchance you may recollect, that the first meeting of Rob Roy with Osbaldistone took place. My Scotch reminiscences have been greatly revived to-day. To-day I have for the first time seen and tasted—only tasted—the two Scotch national dishes, viz., singed sheep’s head and a haggis!

I had arranged to leave Glasgow on the morning after Christmas, when Sir William insisted on my staying at least over Wednesday to sit for my portrait! I contrived, however, to sit on Tuesday (Christmas day), when I was done in about four hours, in the same style as Sir William’s other botanical portraits, and with so much success that it was unanimously proclaimed to be a most striking likeness; in fact the most successful of all the artist’s attempts are said to be this and that of Dr. Torrey, by whose side, it seems, I am destined to be suspended!—a compliment with which I may well feel highly gratified. I believe it is a capital likeness.

I dined out only once at Glasgow, at the house of Mr. Davidson, a very rich don who has made all his money in business here.

Late in the day I went into town to secure a place in the early coach for Stirling and also a bed for the night, as well as to select some little Christmas presents for the Misses Hooker. In the evening Sir William had several friends to dinner, and soon after the breaking up of the evening party I took my leave of these kind friends with no small regret; my contemplated visit of ten days has been prolonged to just twice that number. And now, as we have fairly bid adieu to the old year, I must also bid good-by to you for the present, wishing you, not as the mere compliment of the season, but with all my heart and soul,—a happy New Year. The last New Year I well remember; several of its predecessors also I have had the pleasure of spending with you. I pray God we may be preserved and have a happy meeting before another new year comes.

JOURNAL.

Kinross, Wednesday Evening, January 2, 1839.

I left Glasgow at seven o’clock A.M. on the morning of the 26th December, on the top of a stage-coach bound for Stirling, so famous in song and story,—distant about thirty miles from Glasgow. I arrived about half past ten, in the midst of a heavy rain.

On leaving Stirling for Perth, I took an inside place, as the storm still continued, but it shortly cleared up, and I rode on the outside nearly the whole journey. The only place worth noticing, or rather which I have time to notice, through which we passed was Dumblane, which is just one of those dirty Scotch villages which defy description. If “Jessie the flower of Dumblane” lived in one of these comfortless and wretched hovels I’ll warrant her charms are much overpraised in the song. Here I saw for the first time a genuine ruin; that of the large and once important Cathedral, founded in 1142. During the short-lived establishment of Episcopacy in Scotland I think that the good Leighton was for a time rector of Dumblane. Just beyond Dumblane we passed the field of Sheriff-muir, and beyond this, at the little village of Ardoch, I passed, without being aware at the time, the finest and most entire Roman camp in Britain; we passed some fine country-seats on the road; had a long way the distant Grampian Hills, on which “my father fed his flocks,” in full view; and somewhat late in a fine moonlight evening, I arrived at Perth. As the stage which passed Arlary left Perth at nine o’clock in the morning, and I could not afford to spend a day here, I of course saw little of this famous town.... A pleasant ride brought me to Arlary at eleven o’clock A.M., and Arnott was by the roadside awaiting my arrival. I was sorry to learn that he is not a general favorite among his brother botanists; but although most of them possess greater advantages, he has but one superior in Great Britain, and in most departments very few equals. He received me with great kindness, and I have spent a few days with him very pleasantly indeed. He is a hearty, good fellow, and improves vastly on acquaintance. I was exceedingly pleased with Mrs. Arnott, who is exceedingly amiable and lively. On Sunday it stormed terribly, so that we were unable to leave the house. On Tuesday I dined with Mr. and Mrs. Arnott, Mr. Wemyss, the clergyman of the parish, another clergyman, etc., at Mr. Barclay’s, Arnott’s father-in-law, about six miles from Arlary. About one o’clock to-day, taking leave of Mrs. A. I rode with Arnott to Kinross, and leaving Arnott to write some letters at the hotel in the mean time, I took a boat to Loch Leven Castle,—the prison of the lovely and ill-fated Mary Queen of Scots....

On returning to the hotel I found that Arnott had picked up the dominie of his parish, and had our dinner in readiness. The expected coach arrived soon after, but was crowded. I am consequently obliged to wait for the mail which passes about two o’clock in the morning, and by which, if I am so fortunate as to obtain a seat, I may expect to reach Edinburgh before daybreak.

Waterloo Hotel, Edinburgh,
Thursday evening, January. 3, 1839.

This is my first day in Auld Reekie; and my first business, on sitting down by my quiet and comfortable fireside, shall be to give you a brief account of this day’s work. After taking a reasonable modicum of tea I spent the whole of last evening at Kinross in writing, until two o’clock, at which hour the mail-coach punctually made its appearance; and there was fortunately room inside. We drew up at the post office at Edinburgh at half past six in the morning (raining as usual). I took possession of a very comfortable, even elegant room, very different from the six feet by nine bedrooms of most hotels. This is the finest hotel I have yet seen; the Adelphi at Liverpool is not to be mentioned in comparison. I threw myself on the bed and slept for an hour or two. On waking I drew up the curtains of my windows, and had all at once a magnificent view of this picturesque city, which startled me. From descriptions and a few prints I have somewhere seen I find I had formed a very correct view of this city, as far as it went. It is the finest town I have seen or expect soon to see. It owes much of its beauty to its peculiar site, and to the manner in which the old town acts as a foil to the new. Immediately after breakfast I sallied forth, walked down the street, uncertain which of my letters of introduction I should first attempt to deliver; decided for Greville;[40] so I crossed the North Bridge, which is thrown not over a river but over a part of the town, into the old town, crossed High Street, passed the huge block of buildings occupied by the university, plain and heavy without, but the spacious court within very imposing; and a few minutes’ walk brought me to Dr. Greville’s residence, which looks in front upon a large public square, and on the other the green fields extend up almost to the house,—a complete rus in urbe. Dr. Greville received me very kindly, and seemed well pleased to receive Dr. Torrey’s letter; made many affectionate inquiries, and urged me to stay with him while I remained in town. I was predetermined to decline all invitations of this kind in Edinburgh, but found I could give no reasons for doing so that would not seem strange. Dr. Greville said he well knew I should be obliged to stay either with him or Dr. Graham,[41] who would never let me off; so, as I thought Dr. Greville would prove the most useful and edifying acquaintance, I accepted his invitation and promised to send my luggage sometime to-morrow. We set out to call on Professor Graham; walked over into the New Town, the squares, rows, terraces, and crescents all very fine; called at Professor G.’s, who was as usual out; left Dr. Torrey’s letter and my own card. Left to myself again, after promising to meet Dr. Greville at dinner at the house of a friend of his, I directed my steps to the Castle, which, crowning a high cliff much like that of Stirling, nearly or quite perpendicular except on one side, is visible from almost every part of the city.... Walked far away to Inverleith Terrace to leave my letters for Mr. Nicoll;[42] returned, dressed for dinner, passed an agreeable humdrum evening at a small family party; returned to the hotel, read two American newspapers (little news), found a good fire in my room, and sat down to make these desultory notes. As to all the rest of what I have seen I may have more to say another day. Good-night!

St. George’s Square, 12 M., January 4, 1839.

Before I retire to rest I must hastily and very briefly record my doings to-day, just by way of keeping in good habits; as I am engaged to breakfast at an early hour with Dr. Graham I must soon go to bed. Rose at half past nine (recollect I had not slept the previous night),—a snowstorm. Sight-seeing being out of the question, went to the university, just in time to hear the latter part of Dr. Hope’s lecture (Light Carburetted Hydrogen and Safety Lamp); fine-studied and rather formal manner,—did not wear his gown or ruffles at the wrist! Experiments few but rather neat. In cutting off flame with wire gauze he varied the experiment in a way I had not previously seen, viz., by throwing a jet of ether upon the gauze, which burnt below but did not kindle above,—a very pretty effect. He looks to be not above sixty-five, although he must be ten years over that age. Next heard Professor Forbes,[43] a handsome man of very elegant appearance; a most elegant and lucid lecturer; delivered my note of introduction from Professor Silliman; received me very kindly, but I was obliged to leave at once to hear a lecture from Professor Wilson, the famous Christopher North, one of the most extraordinary men living, very eccentric, a gifted genius, and a man of the most wonderful versatility of powers. The subject to-day was the Association of Ideas. The lecture was rather striking, original in manner, with a few flights of that peculiar eloquence which you would expect from Christopher North. Next heard Dr. Monro (Anatomy); very prosy; the class behaved shockingly, even for medical students! Lastly I heard Professor Jameson[44] a stiff, ungainly, forbidding-looking man, who gave us the most desperately dull, doleful lecture I ever heard. It was just like a copious table of contents to a book,—just about as interesting as reading a table of contents for an hour would be; I may add just as instructive! Dined in a quiet way with Dr. Pardie, a young physician to whom I brought a letter from James Hogg; his wife is a cousin of James; went from the table to the college to hear a botanical lecture from Professor Graham; returned to tea and spent the evening. I found I had quite unexpectedly met with profitable acquaintance, as Dr. and Mrs. Pardie were active and ardent Christians, of the Baptist persuasion, and people of a very delightful spirit. They were well acquainted with Mr. Cheever of Salem, who spent some time in Edinburgh previous to his journey to Palestine. I passed a very pleasant evening, and promised to call on them again before leaving town. Returned in the midst of a violent snowstorm to Dr. Greville’s, where I am now domesticated, having sent up my baggage from the hotel.

Saturday evening.—Rose this morning at half past seven; and at half past eight, according to engagement, went over to the other side of the town with Dr. Greville, to breakfast with Dr. Graham, and then visit the Botanical Garden (deep snow). We looked about the garden, or rather the greenhouses, until afternoon; much gratified with the splendid collections; but the Sabbath draws nigh, and I cannot go on to tell you more about it now. Called on Mr. Nicoll on my return; made a provisional engagement to meet him at breakfast on Monday and examine his sections of woods. Ran about the streets; left a note at the house of Arnott’s brother, to make arrangements (as we have done) for visiting Parliament House, etc., on Monday; returned to Greville’s, dressed for dinner, and looked over books, etc., until Professor Graham and Dr. Balfour,[45] secretary of the Botanical Society, arrived; dined; passed a pleasant evening; after family worship had a little conversation with Dr. Greville, retired to my room, and now, as I am at the bottom of the page and my watch says ten minutes to twelve,—to bed. Adieu.

Monday evening.—Two days have passed since I have taken up my pen to communicate to you my little diary. I still remain domesticated at Dr. Greville’s, where I am received with the greatest kindness, and am as happy as I can be away from home. I like Dr. G. and family much, there is so much true Christian feeling and simplicity. Dr. G. seems much to regret that he was unable to meet Dr. Torrey in Edinburgh. Yesterday was the first Sabbath of the new year, and I heard two sermons adapted to the season; one in the morning, in an Episcopal chapel (the one to which this family belong) from Mr. Drummond, the text being the latter clause of Hebrews viii. 13; a most excellent, faithful, and godly sermon. In the afternoon I occupied a seat Dr. Greville was so kind as to secure for me in the Old Greyfriars (Scotch) Church, which is so crowded that without this precaution you can hardly expect to get into the church when Dr. Guthrie preaches. He is the most striking preacher I ever heard. I could not help comparing him with Whitfield. The text was the first clause of Eccles. ii. 11. I dare not attempt to give you any idea of the discourse. I wish you could have heard it. In this church-yard the remains of the early martyrs of Scotland repose, not far from the Grassmarket, where they were mostly offered up. I stood upon the very spot to-day where they suffered. We had a terrible wind all last night, which, with the rain, carried off nearly all the snow. The morning was so stormy that I could not fulfill my conditional engagement to breakfast with Mr. Nicoll and look at his curiosities. So I repaired to the university at ten; heard Sir Charles Bell,[46] the professor of surgery,—a decent lecturer, but not remarkable. At eleven I heard the celebrated Dr. Chalmers, the professor of divinity. The old man has a heavy, strongly-marked Scotch countenance, which, however, brightens very much when he is engaged in his discourse. His manner is rather inelegant and his dialect broad Scotch and peculiar. But the matter is so rich that he carries all before him. Every word is full of thought, and he occasionally rose to a very powerful eloquence. He is much beloved, and is considered by all parties, perhaps, as the strong man of Scotland. The subject of his lecture this morning was the advantage (and the abuse) of Scripture criticism. It was a treat to hear him. He paid a high compliment, in the course of his remarks, to our Moses Stuart.

The weather growing by this time more tolerable, I walked about town,—visited the Parliament House, the Library of the Writers to the Signet; passed through the Grassmarket, returned here, looked at plants with Dr. Greville; dined; received a parcel from Sir William Hooker containing a few plants I had accidentally left (a few he had given me). A very kind letter informed me that he would be in London about the same time with me (which I had in part expected, and about which hangs a tale I must write soon), and also a fine parcel of letters of introduction for me, both to persons on the way to London, and also on the Continent,—to Delessert, De Candolle, Martins, Endlicher, Humboldt, etc. Truly he is a kind man; he has laid me under lasting obligations. He asks me to say to Dr. Torrey that his Grace of Bedford is anxious to receive also the Hudsonia ericoides from New Jersey, and he will be greatly obliged if he will send a box of it to Woburn early in the spring. Attended this evening a meeting of the Royal Society, Dr. Abercrombie[47] (author of “Intellectual Powers,” etc.) in the chair. Dr. A. is at the head of the profession here; is greatly esteemed, and is a most exemplary Christian. An interesting paper was read by Professor Forbes, of whom I have spoken before; a man whom from his very youthful appearance you could never have imagined as the successful candidate to the professor’s chair against Dr. Brewster. But Dr. Brewster is no favorite in Edinburgh. Other distinguished men were there. I was introduced to Professor Christison,[48] had some pleasant conversation; promised, if practicable, to hear him lecture to-morrow at nine A.M., and look at his museum of materia medica. We had tea after the adjournment, according to the usual custom here, which is a very pleasant one. I only count upon two days more in Edinburgh, and have yet much to do. I am anxious to reach London, where I hope there are letters for me. Good-night. May God bless you all, and keep you.

Melrose, January 10, 1839, Thursday evening.

On the 8th inst., Tuesday, I went immediately after breakfast to the university and heard Professor Christison’s lecture, Materia Medica. He is an excellent lecturer. I spent a half hour with him, in looking over his cabinet of preparations, which contains a large number of fruits, etc., preserved in strong brine instead of spirits. I acquired some useful information concerning the best way to close the jars, for which he has some very neat plans. Then I heard Professor Forbes again; elegant as usual, but he did not succeed very well in his experiments. The next hour I had a rich treat. I heard another lecture from Professor Wilson, on the Association of Ideas, which on this occasion he noticed in a more practical view than before. He recited, in his glowing manner, several passages from Virgil, and a long one from Milton, and gave a long and most eloquent analytic commentary upon each, far exceeding anything of the kind I ever heard before. After visiting the library of the university—a most magnificent room—I set out for Holyrood House.... I bought one or two poor prints, a cast of the seal-ring of Mary, plucked a bit of holly from a bush standing by the place by the altar before which Mary was married to Bothwell, and reluctantly took my leave. There was yet some time remaining, so I set out to climb Arthur’s Seat, which rises abruptly behind Salisbury Crags to the height of eight or nine hundred feet. I attained my wish, and had a beautiful view, from the summit, of the city beneath my feet, and the wide country around. I descended more rapidly than I went up, though at some risk to my neck. Returned to Dr. Greville’s, where I dined and spent all the evening.

I had engaged yesterday to breakfast with Dr. Graham. I therefore set off early for that purpose; afterward accompanied him to the Garden, examined the grounds, etc., passed some time in the splendid palm-house. I spent some portion of the morning also with Mr. Nicoll, examining with the microscope his beautiful collection of recent and fossil wood in thin slices; learned how to prepare them. Then arranged my affairs to leave Edinburgh in the morning. In the evening Dr. Greville and myself dined with Mr. Wilson (gentleman naturalist), the brother of the gifted Professor Wilson; himself almost equally gifted, but with a more healthy tone of mind. He interested us so much that our stay was prolonged until nearly the “wee short hour ayont the twal,” when we parted, after a pressing invitation to visit him at his country residence in case I ever visited Scotland at a more pleasant season. Taking leave of my kind friends the Grevilles, I was early this morning on my way to Melrose. I have been received with the utmost kindness, not only by this agreeable and most excellent family, but among all the acquaintance I have made in Edinburgh. I had purchased for you a collection of hymns, etc., edited by Dr. Greville and his pastor, Mr. Drummond, with which I was very much pleased, and doubt not you would like them much. But Dr. Greville saw it, and afterwards insisted on sending a much handsomer copy to Dr. Torrey, which was accordingly placed in my hands for him. Melrose is about thirty-six miles from Edinburgh, on one of the routes to Newcastle. We came upon the Tweed among a rugged range of hills, at first a very small stream; followed it along the sinuous valley for a long way, until it became a pretty considerable river, for Great Britain; at length the valley grew wider, softer, and in the proper season, doubtless very beautiful. A smaller stream joined it at some distance before us, and as its opening vale came into view, the driver—I beg his pardon, coachman—pointed with his whip to the opposite side and said, “Abbotsford; “ and true enough the turrets of this quaint castellated house were distinguishable, in the midst of a grove mostly of Scott’s own planting, near the banks of the Yarrow. We soon after crossed the Tweed, at the place where the White Lady frightened the sacristan in “The Monastery; “ the scene of which, you know, was laid at Melrose and in the neighborhood. The fine old ruin of Melrose Abbey now came into view, half surrounded by a dirty little Scotch village. Here I abandoned the coach until to-morrow, secured a gig, and was soon on my way to Abbotsford.... I walked back from Abbotsford, noticing more particularly the beauty of the valley, and the fine Eildon Hills which rise behind Melrose, from whose summit, it is said, a very beautiful prospect may be obtained. I then spent the remainder of the afternoon about Melrose Abbey, the most beautiful ruin I have ever seen or expect to see; more beautiful than I had imagined, and just in that state of dilapidation in which it appears to the greatest advantage as a ruin, for were it entire it would be indeed magnificent. I feel now as if I should never care to see another ruin of the kind; and therefore I shall not visit Dryburgh Abbey (where Scott is buried), as I had intended; although I suppose we shall pass by nearly in sight of it to-morrow. I wish I could bring you some sketch or print that would give you some idea of Melrose, but I fear this is impossible. The exquisite carvings in stone, especially, cannot be appreciated until they are seen. It is said (I forget the lines) that Melrose should be seen by moonlight, and this I can well imagine; but this evening there is neither moonlight nor starlight....

Durham, Saturday evening, January 12, 1839.

Soon leaving the Tweed we crossed a range of hills, and came down into the fertile Teviotdale, so famous in border story. Again leaving this valley, we wound our way up the Jedwater, a tributary of the Teviot, rising high up in the Cheviot Hills, just on the line between England and Scotland. We passed Jedburgh, a Scotch village of considerable size and importance, dirty and comfortless of course. Here is an old abbey, which I should have been loth to pass by had I not seen Melrose; thence we ascended the Jed for many a weary mile, until we reached its source high among the Cheviot Hills. Our course was literally “over the mountain and over the moor,” for after a tedious ascent we crossed the boundary line at an elevation of fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. We were by this time thoroughly drenched with mist and rain; the wind forbidding the use of our umbrellas. We immediately commenced our descent, and just at dusk stopped for a hasty dinner at Otterbourne, so famous in the history of the border warfare as the place of the memorable Chevy Chase. It was too dark to see the cross erected to mark the spot where Percy fell. Pass we over the ride from this to Newcastle, as we saw nothing, though we passed near some places of interest,—Chillingham, the residence of the Earl of Tankerville, for example,—and arrived at Newcastle about nine o’clock in the evening. In the morning I delivered notes of introduction from Hooker and Greville to George Wailes, Esq., one of the active members of the Newcastle Natural History Society; visited their fine building and really splendid museum, especially rich in fossil remains and also in the British birds; made arrangements for correspondence and exchange with the Michigan State Survey; was introduced to a botanist or two; visited the castle built by Robert, brother of William the Conqueror, if I recollect aright, which has stood firmly for many a year, and may stand for centuries more, or as long as the world standeth.... Arrived at Durham at eight in the evening. I called almost immediately upon Professor Johnston[49] and delivered Doctor Torrey’s letter and parcel, when we recognized each other as fellow-passengers in the coach from Newcastle, he being a Scotch gentleman,—looking very like my friend Couthouy of the exploring expedition,—whom I was far from imagining would prove to be the professor in the Durham University; took my tea and spent the greater part of the evening with him. He told me he was just about to send a parcel to Doctor Torrey by a friend going next week to America. I must embrace this opportunity to send my letters, now forming a somewhat bulky parcel....

Spent Monday with Professor Johnston in his laboratory, witnessing the progress of some analyses of resins, etc., in which he is now much engaged; also went through the old castle, now used for the university; dined with Professor Johnston at four clock; returned to the hotel.... Took my tea with him, and he accompanied me at half past nine to the coach office whence I took coach for Leeds. I have little to say about Durham University, promising as it is in some respects, because they have adopted the monkish system of Oxford and Cambridge to the fullest extent; the professors and tutors except Johnston are all clergymen; the curriculum includes nothing but classics, a little mathematics, and less logic; their professor of natural philosophy never lectures; they give their professor of chemistry, mineralogy, and geology just fifty pounds a year (nothing for his experiments), and require no one to attend his lectures.

But now I must record some painful news, just learned to-day, which has shocked me exceedingly, but which you will have heard of long ere this reaches you; viz., the loss of the noble ship Pennsylvania, the death of Captain Smith, the first and second mate, and some of the passengers, I hardly yet know how many. I had grown much attached to this ship, and thought highly of its officers, who had been kind to me....

London, January 17, 1839, Thursday evening.

This is dated at this modern Babylon, where I arrived about nine o’clock last evening. I stopped at the White Boar, Coventry Street, Piccadilly; had a quiet night’s sleep; rose early this morning, and had breakfasted and was on my way to Dr. Boott’s[50] (24 Gower Street) before ten o’clock. I found Doctor B. at home; was kindly received and was introduced to his wife, mother, children, and a brother from Boston who is now with him; spent an hour or two with him; heard that Hooker was in town. Though not a public day went to the British Museum; inquired for Brown (Mr. Brown, for he does not like to be called Dr.), and was so fortunate as to find not only the man himself I was so anxious to set my eyes on, but also Hooker, Joseph Hooker, Bennett,[51] and Dr. Richardson.[52] Passed an hour or two. Brown invited Hooker and me to breakfast with him on Saturday morning; went out with Hooker; first to the Linnæan Society; introduced to David Don,[53] a stout Scotchman, and looked through the rooms of the society. Don offered to give me every possible facility in my pursuits, but of course I said nothing to him about Pursh’s[54] herbarium at Lambert’s, of which he was formerly curator; for since he married Lambert’s housekeeper, or cook, I forget which, Lambert will not allow him to come into the house. From here Hooker took me,—stopping by the way at Philip’s, one of the most eminent painters, whose gallery we saw,—to the house of Lambert[55] himself, the queerest old mortal I ever set eyes on. But Carey’s description of the man was so accurate that I should have known him anywhere. I was of course invited to breakfast with him any morning at nine; he showed us his Cacti stuffed with plaster of paris, among others a very curious one called muff-cactus, which really looks just like a lady’s muff and is not much smaller. Lambert’s specimens are the only ones known, and he gave for them something like a hundred guineas,—the old goose! A woman has the care of his collections in place of Don. She stuffs the cacti and seems quite as enthusiastic as old Lambert himself. We went next to the Horticultural Society’s rooms in Regent Street in hopes to find Mr. Bentham; but instead we met Lindley, who received us very politely; he asked me to send him my address the moment I was settled in lodgings.... Here I parted from Hooker for the present, declining an invitation to join him at the dinner of the Royal Society’s Club, for which I was afterwards almost sorry, as I should have met there Hallam, the historian, and some other distinguished men, as also Brown, whose peculiar dry wit is said to have abounded greatly. Hooker seems as anxious to serve me and aid me here in London as at his own home. He is the most noble man I ever knew. Thence I took a cab and drove into the City, through Temple Bar, down Fleet Street; drove round St. Paul’s, to the office of Baring Brothers & Company, who are to be my bankers and to whom my letters here may now be addressed; thence to the office of Wiley & Putnam in Paternoster Row; did not see Mr. Wiley, but learned that the copies of our “Flora” had not arrived, which I am very sorry for, and don’t know how to account for it; called at C. Rich’s, but found no letters, which was a sad disappointment indeed; thence back here to dinner. At eight o’clock went to Somerset House to attend a meeting of the Royal Society, where again I met Hooker and Dr. Richardson. Brown was also present, for the first time in eight years. Royle[56] was in the chair, at which the botanists present sneered much, as they evidently think him too small a man to fill the seat occupied by Newton, etc. I don’t know how he happened to be one of the vice-presidents. I was introduced to him after the meeting, as also to many others. J. E. Gray,[57] who was very polite, gave me and Joseph Hooker tickets for Faraday’s lecture of to-morrow evening, invited me to dine with him to-morrow, etc. I was glad to make the acquaintance of Mr. Criff[58] (or Clift) the curator of the Hunterian Museum, the man who exposed Sir Everard Home, who invited us to come and see that museum. While we were conversing, a gentleman, whom Hooker did not at the time recognize, addressed us, and after some conversation with me asked me if I would like to be introduced to Sir Astley Cooper, and see his museum. I answered of course that it would be a great gratification, when he introduced himself as Bransby Cooper, the nephew of Sir Astley,—of whom I have heard formerly not a little,—gave me his address, and Joseph Hooker and myself are to call on him on Monday next. I was introduced also to Dr. Roget,[59] but saw not so much of him as I could wish; so you see I have met more distinguished men in one day than I might elsewhere meet with perhaps in a whole life. But I must break off; I am engaged to breakfast in the morning with Hooker, to meet also Dr. Richardson....

White Bear, Piccadilly, 18th January, 1839, Friday evening.

I am not yet in private lodgings, but hope to be so to-morrow. You must not expect me to mention half the things I see in a day here in this busy metropolis, where as yet everything I have seen has been viewed in the most desultory manner. I breakfasted with Hooker and Richardson, who left me for a half hour at the Adelaide Gallery, where I saw very many things to interest me, which we will not stop to talk of now, as I hope to be there again; among other things, a live Gymnotus or Electrical Eel, which gives powerful shocks, they say, for I did not choose to feel it myself. Thence we visited the Museum of the Zoölogical Society, for which Dr. Richardson not only procured us free admittance, but procured for us an order to visit the Zoölogical Gardens; made calls with Hooker, whom Joseph and I left with the Chancellor of the Exchequer in Downing Street, while we passed by Westminster Hall and Abbey down to Bentham’s, who has a beautiful residence as retired as the country. Found Bentham an exceedingly pleasant and amiable man; spent an hour or two, till Hooker came in; accepted an invitation to dine with him to-morrow; went into the City; introduced to Richard Taylor,[60] at his printing-office; were all invited to breakfast on Tuesday morning next; went to Longman’s famous bookstore and warehouse; one of the young Longmans politely showed us over the building, showed us room after room filled with solid literature,—a most surprising quantity; went by St. Paul’s again, saw the Bank, etc.; took an omnibus again to West End; passed by the London University, etc. Joe Hooker and I went to dine with J. E. Gray, who has taken it into his head to show us no little attention; he has lately married a rich wife, a widow, much older than himself; I was quite pleased with her. Went to the Botanical Society,—poor concern; and then to hear Faraday give the first lecture of the season at the Royal Institution, Mr. Gray having kindly offered us tickets. I was unexpectedly introduced to Faraday just before the lecture; pleasant man, with a very quick and lively expression of countenance. The lecture was on Electrical Eels, etc.; most elegant lecturer he is; brilliant and rapid experimenter. I hope to hear him again.

Saturday evening, January 19.—I am now in lodgings, No. 36 Northumberland Street, near Northumberland House, Charing Cross, in the room just vacated by Dr. Richardson; sixteen shillings a week, and a shilling for my breakfast when I choose to take it here. It is half past eleven. I have just come in; no fire, but fortunately my occupation for to-day is soon told. Hooker, Joe, and I breakfasted with Brown at his house, and stayed with him until four o’clock in the afternoon! I have a good deal to say about him, but not here. He is a curious man in other things besides botany. He has a few choice paintings, and a few exquisite engravings he has picked up on the Continent. I coveted them for you. They are just what we should be delighted to have. I dressed for dinner, then drove with my luggage to my present lodgings, and then took up Hooker and Joe for Bentham’s to dinner at half past six, where we met Lindley and Mr. Brydges; the dinner was just the beau ideal of taste and simple elegance. In the drawing-room coffee was served up, and in a half hour Assam tea. I am greatly pleased with Bentham, and delighted with Mrs. B. But more of this anon. We are to breakfast with him on Monday, and then make up a party to Kew and the Horticultural Gardens. The house he lives in, a pleasant place, plain but tastefully furnished and arranged, was the one where Jeremy Bentham lived....

Tuesday evening, January 22.—I have to account for myself for two days past, but fortunately this can be done in general terms in few words. Were I to enter very fully into particulars I should fill several sheets. Yesterday Sir William Hooker, Joseph, and I breakfasted according to appointment with Bentham, and set out, although the day was rainy, for a visit to the Horticultural Gardens at Chiswick. We went in an omnibus, and I noticed on the way Apsley House (Duke of Wellington), and the monument to his Grace in Hyde Park, near his house (what is the good of honors, indeed, if one cannot see them?), Holland House, which I saw from some distance, etc. We found Lindley at the Gardens, and looked through the grounds. They have very few hothouses as yet, but have just dug the foundation of a very splendid one, which is, however, to form one wing merely of the general plan. We went to Kew, about two miles farther, and looked through those fine old grounds and gardens. The hothouses and the collections in them were much larger and more interesting than I had anticipated. They are particularly rich in New Holland and Cape plants. There is a new conservatory for large plants, a fine one certainly, which cost six thousand pounds, and the roof was taken from the greenhouse at Buckingham Palace, and therefore cost nothing. It seems an extravagant job, and Mr. Bentham feels sure a much better one of the same size could be built for four thousand pounds. While here we paid a visit to Francis Bauer,[61] now eighty-five years old, and much broken down, but still hard at work, and making as beautiful drawings as ever (beyond comparison excellent), and as delicate microscopical examinations. He has lately been working at fossil Infusoria, and showed me figures of Bailey’s plate in “Silliman’s Journal” which he had copied. He was greatly pleased when I offered to send him specimens of the things themselves. He showed me the original red snow from arctic America, and also his splendid drawings. Returned to town, and dined with Bentham.

This morning we breakfasted with Richard Taylor in the City; and went afterwards to the College of Surgeons, by appointment Hooker had made, to see Professor Owen, and the fine museum of the college under his charge (John Hunter’s originally); a magnificent collection it is, in the finest possible order; and the arrangement and plan of the rooms is far, very far better and prettier than any I have seen. I shall make some memoranda about it. We there met Mr. Darwin, the naturalist who accompanied Captain King in the Beagle. I was glad to form the acquaintance of such a profound scientific scholar as Professor Owen,—the best comparative anatomist living, still young, and one of the most mild, gentle, childlike men I ever saw. He gave us a great deal of most interesting information, and showed us personally throughout the whole museum. I am every day under deeper obligations to Sir William Hooker, to whom I owe the gratification of forming so many acquaintances under such favorable circumstances. Hooker stays over night often at his brother-in-law’s, Sir Francis Palgrave, the great antiquarian and Saxon scholar, Keeper of the Records, of whom I have read so much in the “British Review.” His eldest daughter, Maria, is spending the winter there. On Hooker’s return on Monday he was so kind as to bring me an invitation from Lady Palgrave to dine with them on Saturday, which will be the last I shall see of Hooker, as he is to set out on Monday for home. In the afternoon we spent an interesting hour in looking through the vast halls of the British Museum, particularly through the sculpture, the Elgin marbles, Egyptian antiquities, etc. These last are much more grand than I had supposed. Indeed, I was struck with wonder. I hope sometime to spend a day or two in looking through these rich collections. Called on Lyell the geologist.

We dined with Dr. Roget, the secretary of the Royal Society, where we met Sir Francis Staunton, a great Oriental scholar and traveler, Professor Royle, Dr. Boott, and two others whose names I forget. But best of all Dr. Boott brought me a letter from Dr. Torrey, dated December 25 (Christmas), and I soon contrived to get into a quiet corner to read it; right glad I was to hear from home once more; I will answer it to-morrow. We left very early, as Hooker was to go to Hampstead, where Sir Francis Palgrave resides. Joe and I walked with him, till he should find a stage; but as none overtook us and the night was fine we walked the whole way, three or four miles, and having left Sir William safe and sound, and seen Sir Francis Palgrave for a moment, the remainder of the family having retired to rest, Joe and I walked back again to town. I confess I am a little tired, and am quite willing to go to bed. A Dieu.

Wednesday, January 23, 1839.—Breakfasted and dined with Mr. Bentham, and studied plants with him all day and a good portion of the evening, excepting an hour or so in the morning when we walked out, and Bentham took me through the splendid house of the Athenæum Club, and we also visited the National Gallery, and saw fine paintings in great numbers from almost every artist ancient or modern. It is very near my lodgings, and I intend to visit it again. Here are some of West’s original pictures, and likewise the paintings or sketches of Hogarth from which his well-known engravings were taken. They are much more expressive than the prints. E. would enjoy many of them very much, and especially some of Wilkie’s of the same kind.

I am to take my breakfast in my lodgings to-morrow morning, which I have as yet done but once. I sent yesterday my letter of introduction to William Christy, who lives out of town, and received to-day a most polite invitation to dine with him to-morrow, and meet Hooker and Joe.

Thursday.—Breakfast at home. Call with Joe Hooker on Bransby Cooper, and then on Sir Astley Cooper; pleasantly received, saw some very curious preparations; spent the morning with Bentham, and dined at Mr. Christy’s, Clapham Road, where I spent an agreeable evening. Returning, wrote a letter to Dr. Torrey to go by mail to-morrow to Bristol for the Great Western.

Friday evening.—I breakfasted at my lodgings this morning, and afterwards walked out with Sir William and Joe Hooker to Regent’s Park; went to the Coliseum to see the Panorama of London, and well worth seeing it is. It will save me a visit to the top of the dome of St. Paul’s, I think, for the Panorama is said to be more perfect than nature. I will say no more about it, as Dr. Torrey has seen it. The illusion is perfect, were it not for some unseemly cracks in the sky! We called on Dr. Boott; then went into the City. Our object was to visit the museum at the India House (where the poet Lamb spent so great a portion of his life). I made the acquaintance, of Dr. Horsfield,[62] the curator, who also collected the best part of the museum in Java and India. He is an American, if you can so call a man who has not been in the country since the year 1800. I was much interested with the library, which contains a vast quantity of Indian idols, sculptures, and antiquities, as well as fine Chinese curiosities. It is immensely rich, also, in Indian, Persian, and Arabic manuscripts; the finest in the world in such things. Some of the Persian (Arabic) manuscripts are most beautifully illustrated, or illuminated, and the writing is neater than you can conceive. Here is preserved also an original petition of the India Company to Oliver Cromwell, with the answer in his own rough and strong handwriting.[63] ... We dined at Lambert’s, where we found Robert Brown, Mr. Ward,[64] who had been looking for me, and immediately asked me to name a day to see his plants in the Wardian cases, and an evening erelong to examine some thirty or forty first-rate microscopes which he has in his house; also Dr. Bostock, Mr. Benson, a legal gentleman, a great scholar and author; and last, not least, yet certainly almost the last person I should have expected to see, Lady Charlotte Bury (formerly Lady Charlotte Campbell), whom you will remember as the author of that book on the secret history of the court of George IV. and his Queen, of which we read together, that summer, the deeply interesting review by Brougham. Lady Bury is now supposed to be sixty years old, and was for a long time considered as the handsomest woman in Great Britain; she still looks well, though too embonpoint, and dresses like a young lady, with short sleeves. She is of a high family, a sister of the present Duke of Argyll, and is certainly talented; she is said to be quite poor. Her daughters are married into families of rank, except one (Miss Bury) who was with her mother at Lambert’s, whom Sir William Hooker thought remarkably handsome, but I did not. As I have not a high respect for Lady Bury’s character I did not throw myself into her circle, and saw almost nothing of her the whole evening. We came away early.

Saturday evening.—I paid a visit, this morning, in company with Joe Hooker, to the Zoölogical Gardens in Regent’s Park, where we saw all kinds of four-footed beasts, and fowl, and creeping things. There are four giraffes, but none quite so large as those we saw in New York. There were a very fine orangoutang, very gentle and amiable, a curious spider-monkey, and other curious animals in great plenty. The finest residences I have seen in London are those which look upon Regent’s Park. Returning, we called upon Lambert, Saturday being a kind of public day with him, and there met that Nestor of botanists, Mr. Menzies,[65] whom I found a most pleasant and kind-hearted old man; he invited me very earnestly to come down and see him, which I will try to do some day. Meanwhile I expect to meet him on Tuesday at Mr. Ward’s.

We just had time to go down into the City to call on Mr. Putnam (publisher) and to learn that copies of the “Flora” had arrived, but were not yet cleared from the custom-house; then took the Hampstead coach to dine at Sir Francis Palgrave’s. Excepting Hooker and Joe, I almost forget who the guests were. I was not interested in any of them particularly. Sir Francis was very agreeable; his conversational powers are almost equal to his erudition. His lady, who looks very much like Lady Hooker, is, like all that family, learned and accomplished. I was glad also to meet Hooker’s eldest daughter.

The boys interested me much; I think I never saw more intelligent lads. Sir Francis asked me to call at the Chapter-House, Westminster Abbey, his office as Keeper of the Records, and he would show me the Domesday Book. How a sight of it would electrify Dr. Barrett! He asked me at dinner the meaning of the term locofoco as applied to a party in the United States. I gave him the story of the meeting in Tammany Hall which gave rise to the designation, which afforded much amusement.

Sunday evening, January 27.—I was better prepared than last Sabbath, for I took pains to call yesterday at the office of the Religious Tract Society, and found where Baptist Noel preached. It is St. John’s Chapel, at considerable distance from here. Nevertheless I attended there to-day, and have reason to be glad that I did so, for I heard a most excellent sermon in the morning, from Psalm ciii. 10-12. Mr. Noel is a most simple, winning preacher, and his sermon was the most thoroughly evangelical and earnest I ever heard from an Episcopal pulpit. I wish I could give you some idea of it. I took notes for your benefit as well as I could, and have written them out, but they will give you a very imperfect idea of it. The church, a large one, with double galleries around three sides, was crowded. This afternoon his assistant, Mr. Garwood, preached, and there was room enough, but we had a good sermon. This Mr. Garwood, you may have seen by the papers, has lately been persecuted a little by his bishop, for acting as secretary to the London City Mission. Both he and Mr. Noel are doing much good in raising the standard of piety and active benevolence in the church they belong to. I hope by next Sunday to inquire out Dr. Reed’s church. I have not been out this evening, but have employed myself in copying out my poor notes on the morning sermon, which I trust soon to forward to you.

Monday evening, January 28, 1839.—I spent the morning with Bentham, by appointment, with whom I breakfasted and looked at Leguminosæ until two P.M.; then joined Joe Hooker (took leave of Sir William this morning, who has returned to Glasgow, via Woburn); made calls, among others on Dr. Rostock, who received me very politely; we then dined together at a chop-house; called on Dr. Boott, spent an hour or two in his very pleasant family; then attended a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society, in which all that interested me was a paper by Professor Robinson of New York, on some interesting matters of ancient geography connected with his travels in Asia Minor. The paper was sent to the Geographical Society by a learned German geographer; it excited much interest....

London, January 24, 1839.—I have so far been seeing men and things chiefly, but have had one or two botanical sittings with Bentham, who is a thoroughly kind and good fellow. He immediately had all the remaining parcels of Douglas’s Californian and Oregon plants sent down to his house, and has supplied me as well as he could; and a valuable parcel I shall have of them....

I have seen considerable of Brown, and like him much better than I thought, although he is certainly peculiar. The day we breakfasted with him we remained until four P.M., and he offered to show anything I wished at the British Museum. He showed us all Bauer’s drawings in his possession (I have since seen Francis Bauer). He has much more general information than I supposed; is full of gossip, and has a great deal of dry wit.

He is growing old fast, and I suspect works very little now, and I fear there is not very much more work now to be expected of him. He knows everything!...

I spent a good part of yesterday with Bentham, and was to have met Hooker at the Geological Society in the evening; but botany prevailed and I stayed with Bentham, and was a little sorry afterwards, as I should have seen at the society Whewell! Daubeny! Chantry the sculptor, etc.—I have bought a colored copy of Wallich’s “Plantæ Asiatiecæ Rariores,” 3 vols. fol., very fine, for £15; the publishing price was £36,—the present price by Henry Bohn, who has bought up not only this but almost every other expensive British work on natural history, is £26. It is not yet come round from Edinburgh. I will soon send it to you.... I have seen the “Atakta Botanica” of Endlicher, where there is a plate of Ungnadia (not Ungnodia, as spelled in “Companion to the Botanical Magazine”), but no letter-press as yet....

January 30, Wednesday evening.... Yesterday morning Joe Hooker and myself breakfasted together, and then paid a visit to Westminster Abbey, which we examined in every part, from Poets’ Corner to Henry VII.’s Chapel....

As we left the Abbey (where, by the way, we were most thoroughly chilled with our long stay), we went into the Chapter House adjoining, a very antique building crammed with old records and musty manuscripts, and Sir Francis Palgrave kindly showed us the famous Domesday Book, which is in a perfect state of preservation; all the writing perfectly distinct, and so plainly executed that we could read it, here and there, with moderate facility. He showed us a copy of a treaty made with France by Cardinal Wolsey, of which the immense seal appended was cut in gold, and of the most elaborate workmanship. We saw also the original papal bull sent to Henry VIII., constituting him “Defender of the Faith”! We went from this to Westminster Hall; saw the large room, which is very fine; looked into the Court of Exchequer, and saw the Lord Chancellor and other judges in their full-bottom wigs, most funny to behold, I assure you; and the barristers with their queer horse-hair wigs, frizzled on the top of their heads, but tied up into nice and regular curls behind, which fall upon their shoulders. The case of the Canadian prisoners was then under consideration. We then rode in an omnibus to the City and visited St. Paul’s Church, which, grand as it is, does not show to advantage after Westminster Abbey. The monumental statuary is very fine; some of it I would mention, but the extreme lateness of the hour obliges me discreetly to break off and finish my account of the day hereafter. Bon soir, or rather Bon jour!

Thursday evening.... To commence where I broke off with Tuesday. We went to dine, by appointment, with Mr. Ward, the plant-case man, at three P.M., which hour was appointed for the purpose of showing us the plant-cases, etc., by daylight. Ward is one of the most obliging men I ever knew. I was perhaps a little disappointed in his plants, but this is the very worst season of the year, particularly in London, and his house, which is in the heart of the city, near London Docks, is very badly situated as to light. But I have learned something from him, and feel confident that I shall be able to manage our plant-cases much better hereafter. Menzies was there, and a truly kind-hearted old man he is. I was to have returned in time to spend the evening at Bentham’s, but owing to the stormy weather I did not reach my lodgings till it was too late. On Friday (a snowy day) I was out rather late; went to Bentham’s, where I spent the whole morning, dined with him and Mrs. Bentham, three in all!—they have no children, and live in the most cosy and quiet way you could imagine—and spent the whole evening with him in labeling plants which he selected for me from his duplicates. To-day, Joseph Hooker having concluded to postpone till this evening his departure for Glasgow, and having written accordingly to Ward to meet us, we visited the famous greenhouses and conservatories of Loddiges. Miss Maria Hooker was with us, having come out from Hampstead for the purpose. It is rather a long ride to Hackney, but we were well repaid. The collection of Orchideæ is immense and very beautiful, but a very small portion is now in flower. The palm-house, ample and magnificent as it is, rather disappointed me; it seemed not so much larger than that of the Edinburgh garden, and the plants are not in such nice order. Loddiges was very kind to me. Ward selected a few pretty plants for Miss Hooker. I forgot for the moment that there was such a world of waters between us, and was on the point of selecting some for you know whom; I am not sure that I did not bring some after all.

Loddiges took us to his house and showed his collection of humming-birds, which is the finest in the world. He had nearly 200 species, and usually several specimens of a kind, very beautifully mounted and arranged. You can’t imagine how beautiful they are! They are his great pets, and I do not wonder. I returned through the City, stopped a few moments at the British Museum, dined with Joe Hooker at his hotel near me, and shortly after saw him start for Glasgow. I sent by him a copy of “Outre Mer” to Lady Hooker. At nine P.M. I went to the meeting of the Royal Society, heard a paper read of the Hon. Fox Talbot’s on the power of objects not only to sit for, but to draw their own portraits, which has just been making a great noise in France. It is done by the influence of the light of the sun upon paper prepared by nitrate or chloride of silver. Talbot seems to have found out all about it long ago, but the French have published first. I will write the doctor more particularly about it, and send the “Athenæum” containing the account when it appears.

I have neglected to say that I received two days ago a very kind note from Lindley inviting me to come down to his place, dine with him on Sunday next, stay all night, spend Monday at his herbarium, and meet a few botanical friends at dinner, and return next morning. I declined of course the invitation as far as it related to Sunday, but accepted it for Monday, and offered to get down to Turnham Green in time to breakfast with him. This morning I received another note from him, pointing out the way in which I may reach his house in time. I have also a letter from Francis Bauer, inclosing some European Infusoria, in return for a few of Bailey’s I gave him. I will send a portion to Professor Bailey.