effected among them by those who run counter to their religious notions. The best means of raising them from their present condition is education. Teach them to regard themselves as human beings, and create in them feelings of self-respect and manly independence, and more good will be effected among them than all the relief you can give them against physical want. But few of them at home possess a spark of manliness; but so soon as they reach countries where they are treated by the respectable and intelligent as human beings, so soon do they become different in every respect, and stand forth men. Much of their servility is attributable to the manner in which what they are pleased to call their superiors treat them; and so long as the educated and wealthy of Ireland continue to look upon their poor as little better than swine, and treat them like spiritless animals, only to be spurned, so long will their country be full of beggars and sunken humanity. They complain loudly at times of oppression on the part of the government, and poetically deplore the condition of their less fortunate countrymen; but such expressions will not produce reform. They should act, and not bewail-educate, and not keep in ignorance; and the change would soon be observed. The mendicant would become industrious, the peasant intelligent, and the people happy. Priestcraft would lose its hold, and rational religion take the place of bigotry and stultified adoration of forms and pageants. The Irish are susceptible of improvement; and all that is required to prove the fact is to try them. They are not deficient in intellect, nor aptness for learning, and if they were properly educated, they would be equal to the best of the English peasantry, come from where they will. Philanthropists should establish schools, and Irish gentlemen should treat their poor fellow-countrymen as if they were men, not brutes-beings endowed with the same faculties as themselves; and between the two classes they would soon produce a reform in the degraded that would be lasting and wonderful. Ages must elapse under the present state of things before the lower Irish can be raised to a position of respectability, or even decency.

CHAPTER III.

LIVERPOOL.

WITH a calm sea, and pleasant breeze, our ship made rapid progress during the night and following Sabbath, and by sundown of that day we discovered land immediately ahead, which was ascertained to be Bardsey Island, the western extremity of Wales. The ship was kept on her course during the night, but great care exercised in consequence of the danger of the navigation, and at an early hour on Monday morning an English pilot came on board. We ran up the channel and bay, passing the Isle of Anglesey, and the northern coast of Wales in full sight. The shores were not so precipitous as those of Ireland, nor were they so productive; but there were more houses, and the appearance of greater comfort about the dwellings. We rapidly neared the port of Liverpool, and passed Bell Buoy, a floating boat supporting a frame, on which is placed a large bell, so situated as to toll constantly by the action of the waves, and so powerful in tone as to be heard, in favorable winds, a distance of five miles. Black-rock light came into view next, and then the grim town, so famous the world over for its foreign trade and massive docks. By mid-day the ship was abreast of her haven of rest, announcing her arrival with her own guns. The tide was up, we ran along-side a dock at once, and our luggage was taken to the custom-house, where it was examined by a gentlemanly set of officers in a few minutes; none of the passengers being annoyed in the least by unnecessary scrutiny or close searching. Those who cheerfully and willingly opened their trunks, and exhibited a desire to have their luggage examined, were permitted to pass without the slightest detention; while those who gave evasive answers were made to pay duty for such articles as were excisable. I was asked whether there was anything contraband in my trunks, and thinking it best to be

honest, I candidly told the officer that there were some articles on which I believed there was duty, and gave him my keys to examine. He made a very slight search, and took some books and daguerreotypes out; but as the latter were presents, and the former American works, all were returned me without revenue being exacted. The officers were a gentlemanly, obliging, and friendly set of men, and were remarkably lenient to those who frankly told them what the contents of their trunks were; but to those who tried to evade the customs, they were scrupulously exact. A clergyman of our company, when asked, stated that he had neither tobacco nor cigars; but as his teeth bore evidence that he used the weed, search was made, and a considerable quantity of the Virginia product found. He attempted an excuse, but it was too late; the officials were not disposed to be deceived, and confiscated his stock, with a gentle hint that he was fortunate to escape so easily, and an intimation that he had better cease from lying, as it would be more creditable to him as a follower of Christ. He was an Englishman, and grew a little surly with her majesty's servants, in consequence of the rebuke, concluding that it was not their duty to lecture him, as well as deprive him of his tobacco. If he had been truthful, there would not have been a cigar lost to him; but as it was, he justly lost all. I am aware that English customhouse officers are greatly condemned, but do not believe them always censurable. They are often sorely tried, and some persons practise great deception upon them, which makes them scrutinize closely; but where a person acts towards them in a gentlemanly way, he seldom finds them either exacting or very inquisitive.

Liverpool, with a population of nearly half a million inhabitants, with a foreign commerce greater than that of any other city except London, and a mercantile marine varied and strange, seldom or ever receives from the traveller more than a cold remark about her extensive docks, or a slight mention of the enormous draughthorses which bear her name. Why this is so, is remarkable, and can only be accounted for from the fact that those who embark there for foreign ports have mostly visited cities richer in ancient monuments and historical associations, and being on the eve of a long and perilous voyage, occupy their minds with speculations on the future, instead of turning their attention to the attractions around them; while those who come from the American side of the Atlantic see a city overhung with an atmosphere of smoke, and take the earliest opportunity of getting away from it, and flying to the goal of their destination, London or Paris.

Liverpool does not deserve such treatment from all, and to those who are fond of looking at the excitement and bustle of business, it has many attractions. Let the stranger take the arm of his companion, and slowly stroll along the streets adjacent to the docks, occasionally entering one, and he will find sufficient to amuse him for days. There he will see the representatives of almost every nation on earth, and a greater variety of the genus homo than in any other city, not excepting New Orleans. Throngs of Irish immigrants, on their way to the land of their brightest hopes, America, meet him at every turn; while Germans and French, Hollanders and Swedes, Spaniards and Italians, Jews and Gentiles cross him in his rambles and jostle him in the highways. Among the natives of the Isle of Great Britain he finds innumerable and nameless representatives from the Highlander, with his half savage dress, to the Welshman and Yorkshireman, with their broad and peculiar dialect. He sees hundreds of poor, barefooted women, and thousands of well-clad merchants. Soldiers and sailors, policemen and beggars, strangers and sharpers, pass and repass him as he roams her avenues. All is excitement, hurry, and confusion. A smoky atmosphere and the heavy clouds which hang over the city give a dingy aspect to the walls and houses, but a day or two will make him more familiar with the place, and then he will see much to admire and much to condemn. The docks are the first objects of interest, and the stranger will cheerfully award them their due. One of them is a picture of all, and there can be seen the productions of every section of the world known to commercial men since "the Celt knew the Indian." The American notices with pride (and a commendable pride it is), foremost among all, the products of his native land. Countless bales of the great staple of the South, thousands of barrels of pork from the Valley of the Mississippi, hills of Indian corn in sacks from every portion of the Union, large quantities of sugar and molasses, and cargoes of American timber, bear witness to the extensive trade carried on between Liverpool and the Republic of the Western World; while vessels from Egypt and Turkey, Arabia and China, the Brazils and Hindostan, lie side by side in her docks, giving evidence of the peaceful tendencies of commerce. Large numbers of American liners, those beautiful productions of the skill of our ship-builders, find a haven in the secure and substantial basins for which she stands pre-eminent. Small craft in abundance are there; and strongly built iron steamers, in fleets, ply from her quays to the seaports of the neighboring islands, the Mediterranean, and the far shores of the Atlantic. Every hour during the day there is an arrival from some foreign country, and not a day goes down without witnessing a score of departures for distant sections of the world. From her docks the blood-red flag of haughty Albion has been borne to every section of the navigable globe, and she has sent out commercial fleets which would put to the blush the proudest navies of the continental powers. And yet for all this the stranger finds nothing in Liverpool worthy his time and attention!

The streets are mostly irregular, short, and, like John Bull in many things, awry. But some of them are handsome. Take for instance Lord Street, with its imposing buildings, its rows of shops, and its broad and well-paved way; Dale Street, Church Street, and Castle Street, all abound in large and beautiful edifices. The exchange, "where merchants most do congregate," is an attractive pile; and there is one of the best bronze allegorical groups that meets the eye of the artist in any section of the globe. It is erected to the memory of Lord Nelson. The Custom House and Sailor's Home are beautiful architectural efforts, and would be considered lions in an American city. St. George's Hall is one of the largest and most harmonious buildings in its proportions in the kingdom. The railway stations are splendid, and stand in broad contrast with the passenger depots of the railroads in the United States. The hotels, although not so large or so fine as the American, are good, and some of them are not devoid of external beauty.

The inhabitants are divided into two classes, rich and poor.