in "Chambers' Journal," and were a little anxious to see it. After visiting its Market House, and looking at several of its buildings and streets, we returned to the pier with the intention of breakfasting in Liverpool. Observing a number of people taking tickets at an office near the shore, we applied, but were informed that they were not for Liverpool, but for Chester, by the rails. Immediately we resolved to go. In two minutes, we were seated in the train, and in two more we were rolling along beneath the new town of Birkenhead, in the tunnel that passes under it. Nothing of much interest was to be seen on the journey, but we were pretty well prepared for breakfast by the time we arrived at Chester. It was the fair, and we had some difficulty in finding accommodation and refreshment. After breakfast, we walked up to the city, and, ascending its walls, we proceeded to walk round them; for Chester is walled all round, as it was, tradition reports, in the time of the Romans. We first arrived at the north tower, from which it is said King Charles witnessed the defeat of his army on an adjoining moor. We then walked all round, now looking down upon the town with its streets filled with cattle, sheep, and horses, its public buildings, ancient churches, and curious-looking old gableended houses, and then turning our attention to views of the adjacent country, and now and then catching a glimpse of the distant mountains of Wales. Ï recollect noticing distinctly the extended railway viaduct at the west end of the race-course, which conducts to the new bridge over the river, and which fell in a few months ago as a train of carriages was passing over it, causing the death of several persons. There are two other bridges over the river-a noble new one, and an old awkward one. The cathedral is not a handsome structure, neither is it, or its adjoining yard, in a good state of repair. But what most interested us in Chester was its-what did they call them? I have forgotten!—but never mind, I can tell you what they are. Instead of walking along a foot pavement on a level with the street as in other towns, you ascend a flight of steps at the end of a street, and under cover of the roofs of the houses all the way is a regular pathway along which you walk covered in from rain or sun. The side next the street is left open, and the other side is the shop or parlour window of the house. Some of the best shops in the town are up here mounted aloft from the street. Their chief difficulty appears to be in getting a good light for the shops; but this they manage somehow from behind or above. The fact is, you seem to be walking through the first floor front of all the houses, the walls of every house being removed to make way for you. There were also some very curious specimens of ancient house building with which we were much interested, adorned with mottos and ornaments. We returned to Liverpool in the afternoon, and after tea took a walk down to the docks. And truly this Liverpool is a wonderful place. What forests of masts of ships of all nations. What piles of goods of all descriptions. What immense buildings for warehouses. A visitor from a midland town is surprised, and well he may be. Some of the vessels in the docks were about to sail for America, and emigrants were preparing to depart. Some bustling and sweating getting their chests, and boxes, and bedding, on board. Some weeping, as they bid adieu to their friends, and others were too merry to be wise. What a picture of human life! We went on board one or two of the new American steam packets, and were much pleased with the order and neatness of their accommodations. Some of the rooms, especially the chief cabin, was magnificently fitted up, adorned with paintings, views of American scenery, executed in the first style of art. The "Great Britain" steamer was lying in dock, ready to start the next day; and she did start, and went over the Atlantic safely, and returned safely. It was when she set out on her next voyage that she was wrecked on the coast of Ireland. I am happy to hear that they have succeeded in getting her off the sands, and bringing her back to Liverpool, where she will be repaired, and sent out again, I hope, with more success, for she is a noble vessel. But I need not say more about her, as I have already given you a picture of her, and told you all about her. Next morning, we left this busy, bustling town, and were soon in its great neighbour, Manchester. Two such towns, so near each other, are not to be found elsewhere, perhaps, on the face of the earth, as Liverpool and Manchester-the former for commerce, the latter for manufactures. In the afternoon, we started by rails for Sheffield. But this ride we did not like at all, so far as the conveyance was concerned. The carriages were small, low, and inconvenient, and the jolting on the rails was very unpleasant, and sometimes alarming. We were fain to get out of the close carriage, and ride in the "tub," as they call it, though there were no seats; which we did, and at the next station a man with three old-fashioned rush-bottomed chairs coming in, he kindly accommodated us with seats, and we rode more pleasantly. But we passed over some very high embankments and bridges. One of these bridges was over a deep chasm, down which we caught a glance as we passed over, and saw beneath us a large factory, a gentleman's house, and cottages. It was a fearful sight! but a moment, and we were over it, on solid ground again. Then, by a long curve, we approached the celebrated high bridge at Glossop, built, we were told, of small pieces of red pine-wood grooved into each other, one of the most remarkable erections in the world. This also was a great height above the river, and the buildings in the valley beneath. But as we advanced towards the moors, the line was continued by the side of the mountains, which on one hand were rising in their native wildness above us, and beneath us were stretching down into the deep valley. We went at a tremendous rate for a considerable distance. In some places the road appeared to be in a bad state. Had we met with any obstruction, we must have gone topsy-turvy to the bottom with a tremendous crash. But where are we going now-the mountains are closing in around us? Here is a tunnel, a very long one, with a single line of rails, into which, of course, only one train is ever admitted at a time. How did we welcome the light again at the other end of it! But still, for some distance, we were passing through deep rugged rocks on either hand. On we went, and passing Penistone, were soon among the woods of Lord Wharncliffe, where many romantic and lovely scenes were presented before us. Sheffield was now an interesting object before us, and in half an hour we were safe at its station, after one, at least, in our apprehension, of the most dangerous railway journeys we ever performed. Hospitably entertained here by an old friend, we spent the next day in visiting the Botanical Gardens, Cemetery, and other public buildings. But Sheffield is a black and dirty place-much improved, it is true, from what it once was, but still capable of far greater improvement; in the accomplishment of which its position, on a gently rising hill, is very favourable. Next day we arrived safe in our own town and dwelling, and found again, as we have often found before, that whilst it is pleasing to witness other scenes and visit other places, there is, after all, “No place like home." To thy father, when thou goest, Smiles all o'er his face do gather, All within him says, "my child!" In that moment thou dost win it- Sweeter than the sweetest honey, Sweet it is to see him wear it, When he sets him down to rest: Sweeter still it is to share it, Dost thou say, "I have no father, Ask his best, who never slumbers, Show thy precious mother, smitten, * Jeremiah xlix. 11. |