ground. When they first felt the lifting, they flounced and kicked violently, but, the instant their feet were cleared of the ground, they became perfectly still as if dead, and hung dangling in the air, till they were gently lowered into the hold next the keel. There they stand in double rows, with their beads to a common manger, erected over the keel. In such a situation they must suffer greatly from the confined air.

The soldiers, with their wives and children (for some of them usually have families) are all crowded together between decks, immediately above the horses, and only a limited number are allowed to come on deck at

once.

A QUARRY.

After enjoying with a companion the fine views from the mount, and the delightful retreat in the gar dens behind it, I was forcibly struck yesterday, with the sight of a vast quarry on the hill contiguous to Liverpool. By constant hewing, it has now become a regular pit, probably 60 or 70 feet deep, and it may be 50 rods long and 30 rods wide. Its walls are formed as if it had been designed for some vast cellar, they are very smooth and perpendicular. Carts go to the very bottom of this quarry by means of an easy descent cut through the solid rock; this passage is arched, for a considerable distance, and therefore carts coming out of it seem as if emerging from the ground.

The rock is a yellow sand stone, and, when first obtained, is very soft, so as readily to yield to iron tools, and is thus easily wrought into any form; but, after a short exposure to the air or immersion in the water, it hardens and continues to acquire firmness.

This makes it peculiarly fit for the construction of wharves and docks, which, with many of the public buildings here, are formed of it. In the quarry the stone lies in strata, which are much broken and crumbled, for 10 or 12 feet from the surface, but become very regular at greater depths.

This quarry is said to be the Hoboken* of Liverpool, where the young men of spirit come to partake in the fashionable pastime of shooting at each other; for, duelling, the opprobrium of America, is also the disgrace of England.

After coming up from the quarry, we walked six or seven miles in the country around Liverpool. We were delighted with many beautiful country retreats at Edge Hill and Everton, eminences lying northeast of Liverpool.

The grounds are universally laid out with great neatness, and amidst the bright verdure of groves and grass, the eye is agreeably relieved by the smoothness and light colour of serpentine gravel walks.

The western side of Everton Hill, sloping to the river, presented us with green fields of great beauty, surrounded by green hedges, and exhibiting all that neatness for which English grounds are so much cele. brated.

I expect much gratification from the picturesque scenery of England, as I am about to travel through the country at a season when it is beginning to assume its most beautiful appearance.

St. Domingo, a seat of the Prince of Gloucester, the King's nephew, limited our excursion. It has an

A celebrated duelling ground

site to New-York. Huan

the Jersey shore, oppo

appearance of grandeur and rural magnificence. The Prince of Gloucester is much a favourite in Liverpool. I saw an image of him as large as the life, placed be. neath the bowsprit of a slave ship, by way of honouring his highness.

AN ENGLISH HOTEL.

The Liverpool Arms is the resort of the nobility and gentry, as well as of men of business, and is, I presume, a fair specimen of this kind of establishments in England. The house is very extensive, and its apartments are furnished in a superior style. Over the door are the arms of the city of Liverpool, and the hotel certainly does not dishonour these insignia. One room is considered as common, and, for occupying that, no particular charge is made. Besides this, there are several parlours, where any one who chooses it may be as completely retired as in a private house, -his food being served up for him without the danger of intrusion. Such a parlour our little party from the Ontario has occupied since we have been in, Liverpool. But a separate charge at the rate of a guinea a week is made for this room.

Even the bed rooms are elegantly furnished, and the beds are perfectly clean, as is the whole house e; all the accommodations necessary for dressing completely are furnished in the bed room, and a system of bells, extending to every part of this vast house, brings a servant instantly even to the third or fourth story.

Indeed, every possible accommodation is furnished at the shortest notice, and with the utmost civility of manners on the part of the servants. A stranger may

36

select, from a very ample bill of fare, such articles as he chooses, and he may have, in every instance, a separate table for himself. It is always expected that he will call for wine at dinner ;-no complaints will be made if he omits it, but, the oblique looks of the waiter, when he carries away the unsoiled wine glass, sufficiently indicate in what estimation the gentility of the guest is held. In short, in such a hotel as that which I am now describing, almost every comfort of domestic life may be obtained.

I cannot say

But for all this there is a price. however that the charges are very extravagant, considering the immense taxation of this country. The` bed is one shilling and six pence a night. A common breakfast of tea or coffee, with toast and an egg, will not exceed one shilling and eight pence,*-tea at evening is about the same, but the dinner is much more expensive. If it consist of two dishes, it will cost five shillings, with a frugal desert. A separate charge is made for almost every thing; a glass of beer will cost eight pence, and a bottle of Sherry wine six or seven shillings; a bottle of Port five shillings, and one of Madeira nine or ten. In England the breakfast, and tea at evening, are considered as trivial meals, while dinner is a matter of great import, and therefore it is much more expensive than both the other meals, for supper is perfectly optional; it is very genteel to eat if, although it is not ungenteel to go without. But this list of charges by no means comprehends all. The servants at the public-houses in England are paid by the guests, and not by their employers. They not only

* The money denominations mentioned in this work are al ways sterling, unless it is otherwise mentioned.

1

receive no wages, but many of them pay a premium for their places; that is, the masters of the hotels farm out to their servants the privilege of levying contribu tions, and the consideration is, their service. At our hotel the chief waiter assured us that he paid one hundred pounds per annum for his place, besides paying two under waiters, and finding all the clothes' brushes, and some other et ceteras of the house. He had, moreover, if we might credit his story, a wife and five children to support. The head waiters are commonly young men of a genteel appearance, and often dress as well as gentlemen.

The servants whom it is indispensable to pay in every public-house are, the waiter, who has three pence a meal; the chamber-maid, who has six pence for every night that you lodge in the house; and the shoe-black, who is very appropriately called boots, and receives two pence or three pence for every pair of shoes and boots which he brushes. Besides these, the stranger who comes with horses pays six pence a night to the ostler, and the porter demands six pence for carrying in the baggage, and the same sum for bringing it out. The rates which I have stated are the lowest which one can possibly pay with decency. It is usual to go a little beyond them, and the man who pays most liberally is, you know, in all countries, considered by this class of people as the most of a gentleman.

These demands it is impossible to evade or repel; they are as regularly brought forward as the bill itself, and a departing guest is attended by the whole retinue of servants, who are officious to render services which he does not want, and should he be in a fit of mental