effigy upon it Her son (James I.) had her body brought here. The face is said to be very like hers. It has a deeply sad expression.

Queen Elizabeth and her sister Mary lie near each other The chapel of Edward the Confessor is dark and gloomy. There are sculptures in bas-relief, representing the events of

his life.

There is a monument to General Wolfe, and one to Admiral Vernon; a statue uninscribed, which is intended for John Philip Kemble; and a monument to old Parr, who lived until he was 152 years old. Ten sovereigns lived and died during his lifetime.

Immense space is awarded to naval and military heroes. The poets have only a corner, and the great statesmen but little more of room. I saw many specimens of modern sculpture, which I greatly admired, by Westmacott, by Chantrey, and by Flaxman. The tombs of the kings and queens of the "olden time" have a rude and lofty grandeur, exceedingly impressive.

The afternoon service had already commenced, while we lingered amid the dim aisles. The swelling of the organ through them was solemnly grand.

From the abbey we passed over the street to the "Palace of Westminster," as the Queen has commanded it to be called. It is a most magnificent edifice, with a splendid façade fronting the Thames, nine hundred feet long. It is panelled, decorated with statues and the shields and arms of the sovereigns from the Conquest until now. In 1834 the old palace was burnt, and this has arisen in its place, but is not yet complete. The Victoria Tower, now building, (to be in height 350 feet,) will be a worthy monument to the adored Queen.

"Westminster Hall" is said to be the largest room in

the world, unsupported by pillars. It escaped the conflagration, and is now a portion of the Houses of Parliament. It was here the kings held their banquets after their coronations. Here, many of the great trials took place; and here, Charles I. was condemned to die. In driving down to the abbey, we passed Whitehall Palace, where he was executed.

As we were engaged to dine with our charming friend, Mrs. S., we only had time to look at the old hall, where six hundred years ago such fearful scenes were enacted, and to enter one of the courts of law, where Lord Campbell was speaking. He is a fine, noble-looking man, with an impressive manner, and clear tone of voice. He is deemed one of the most excellent jurists in the three kingdoms, and likewise a statesman. I was deeply interested in him, for I was told he had been the architect of his own fortune.

CHAPTER III.

WE passed a few hours to-day (June 29th) in the British Museum. It is of immense size, decorated with Ionic columns. The collection of antiquities is unrivalled in the world.

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What immortal grace of art did the sculptures of old possess ! Here, after the passing away of thousands of years, despite the sure defacing touch of time," their creations excite admiration and wonder. The "Elgin Marbles" and the Frieze of the Parthenon are wonderful, not only in their preservation, but in their beauty. There is something so grand and powerful in the conception-so noble and startling in many of the figures-that I stood like one entranced before them.

The assemblage of Etruscan vases, from the tombs of the ancient people of Italy, is very curious.

Several rooms are allotted to the monuments of Nineveh, disentombed by the indomitable Layard. They consist of tablets from the walls of the palaces, the winged bulls, and lions, and two gigantic forms in human shape-of such wondrous size it seems impossible they were chiselled by the hands of man.

The Egyptian antiquities are many. There are columns, tablets, statues, and sarcophagi, and quantities of mummies.

The Portland Vase is beautiful. It was said to have been discovered in the tomb of Alexander Severus, who died in 235.

HORTICULTURAL EXPOSITION.

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We passed through rooms filled with specimens of mineralogy and geology, of zoology, of bronzes, and of medals.

The library of printed books contains 400,000 volumes. The National Gallery has a fine collection of pictures. Among the manuscripts I saw the hand-writing of Shakspeare, of Mary Queen of Scots, Milton, John Knox, Spenser, Chaucer, Dryden, and many more names made immortal by history.

From these wonders of past generations we drove to Madame Tussaud's. Her collection of wax figures is really one of the curiosities of London. They are so entirely lifelike it requires the test of touch to distinguish the false from the real. In the "Chamber of Horrors" is the infernal machine of Fieschi, and the figures of all the most famous murderers.

In one apartment are seen many of the relics of Napoléon Bonaparte. The figures of the Queen, Prince Albert, and the royal children, are exceedingly good. The rooms are large, panelled with plate glass, and decorated with draperies and gildings in the style of Louis XIV. Nearly all the celebrated characters of the last two centuries are here represented.

The "Horticultural Exposition," in Regent's Park, next engaged our attention. The drive to it was delightful. Although in the midst of a great city, we were entirely removed from its tumult. As far as the eye wandered it only rested upon trees and flowers. As we approached the gardens it was a scene of rare beauty. There were thousands and tens of thousands of people, with gala dresses and gala faces, walking through the park. Bands of musicians were playing most exquisite gems of opera music. Flags were gaily floating on the " summer wind." Gallant officers, and manlylooking soldiers, in their conspicuous uniforms, were sprinkled

amid the black coats and white neck-ties of the civilians, while multitudes of healthful women, blooming girls, and beautiful children, were seen on every side.

Then we entered the tent containing the fruits. There we saw grapes of wonderful size, mammoth pine-apples, giant peaches, and pigmy figs and melons.

The roses numbered many hundred varieties. The greenhouse of the garden was almost the size of the New York Crystal Palace. In it were palm and cocoanut trees, and many bright-hued tropical plants and flowers.

At seven we drove to Blackheath to dine with Mrs. Crosland, (Camilla Toulman, the delightful authoress.) It was nine miles from the West End to Blackheath. En route we passed the Lunatic Asylum, known as "Bedlam." It was a bright evening, and many of the patients were walking in the grounds or seated on benches, talking to their friends.

Mrs. Crosland is one of the most lovely, gifted, and genial women I have ever met. How radiant and joy-giving was her look of welcome. It needed no words from her sweet lips to say she greeted us as friends.

The guests had all assembled ere we arrived. Among them was Mr. Bennoch and his charming wife. Mr. B. is a poet, though he is a merchant. He is a man of progress; warm-hearted, liberal, frank, and cordial; a patron of the arts, and a friend to the stranger. Then there was Grace Greenwood, our American authoress, a graceful woman, bright and enchanting in conversation.

Delightfully passed the hours until near one o'clock, when we entered our carriage and drove homeward.

June 30th.-We have taken a long drive to-day to see the streets of London. Regent street is very wide and well paved. There are splendid shops on either side, where mag