They have a fine infant school for the little ones, most admirably managed. The large girls are taught to wash, and iron, and do housework. The boys are, some of them, taught the tailor's trade, and some the shoemaker's, and others the baker's. It was a pretty sight to see the little fellows sitting on their legs, making their own jackets and trousers, and laughing together, and looking as happy as boys can look; and just so with the little shoemakers. They work only four hours, and then another set take their place. The room was large and airy, and perfectly comfortable. I saw the clothes they had made, all nicely pressed and put away in their storerooms, ready for wear. So with the shoes; they mended their old shoes and their old clothes themselves.
I saw those of the children who were not at work, at play; for the school hours were past. I saw their happy faces, their clean, tidy clothes, and their long rows of nice, clean beds, for I went into every part of the house, and a beautiful sight it all was. In the kitchen some girls were making up the bread, and most excellent bread it was, and a good, large, thick slice there was for every one. I saw the dining hall, and all that belonged to that part of the concern, and all was just what it ought to be.
Now, you must know that these are, all, the children of paupers—children who have no earthly parents, children that the public must take care of, or they would live or die in the streets. All the different parishes have erected this building, and put in the best teachers, and furnished it as I have related to you, and there placed these poor children, who were growing up in vice and misery. Here they are taught habits of order, industry, and obedience, and learn a way of supporting themselves honestly, and are kept till they are old enough to be put apprentice to some good person who will treat them well. So, instead of six hundred and fifty ignorant, reckless vagrants, the community receives that number of well-instructed, well-brought-up individuals, who can support themselves decently and respectably.
An English country home, where education, high breeding, easy circumstances, old trees, room enough, and a merry family circle, make life beautiful—this had always been one of my dreams of earthly happiness. All this was realized at Mrs. C—'s, at Chobham, where I stopped for a visit on my way to London.
Every day my kind friends devised some little plan for my amusement, beyond the constant pleasure of the every-day life. One day they took me to Windsor, which, you know, is one of the queen's country palaces. We approached it through the famous avenue of elms in the park. The effect of the castle, seen through that long, long vista, is very fine. The English elm, though not so graceful as ours, is more grand and stately, and better for architectural effects. There were many deer in the park, which added much to its beauty. At last we were at the castle; it is a fine building, but would be far more picturesque in ruins than in its present perfect state. We went first into the chapel; this is exquisitely beautiful. The Gothic clusters of pillars springing up from the floor rise unbroken to the roof, and spread out like palm trees. The emblazoned coats of arms of the knights of the garter hanging all around on the pillars of the chapel, the beautiful carved ornaments like lace-work, and many other rare and lovely objects, make the royal chapel very magnificent. There was a horrible old woman who went screeching about the room, showing the pictures, &c. She was particularly apropos in calling us, when she found we were Americans, into a corner of the chapel to show us the tomb of Lord Harcourt, who is there represented receiving the sword of some unfortunate American general, and shrieked out with her cracked voice, "I thought this might interest you."
After feasting my eyes long enough upon the chapel, I went into the castle, and joined one of those batches of human beings which are driven through the state apartments by the guide. The rooms are magnificent. One contains a beautiful collection of pictures by Vandyke. We saw the grand malachite vase, presented to Victoria by the Emperor of Russia, large enough to hold one or two men. After seeing the rooms, we ascended the tower, whence is a fine view. We then walked on the terrace, and went to join the rest of our party, who had gone before us to the hotel.
We then went to get a look at the famous Eton school, about a mile distant. The Eton boys amused me much. They go there very young, and remain there a long while, till they are ready to enter the universities. Their dress indicates their advancement in age and standing. First comes a jacket, then a little suspicion of a tail, which gradually lengthens and widens as maturity comes on, till, at last, it is a perfect tail coat. I saw specimens in these various stages of growth.
After one of the happiest weeks that ever mortals passed, I said a reluctant farewell, and departed for London, where more kind friends, whom I had never seen, were expecting my arrival. I can now, in my mind's eye, see all the dear family on the steps or in the hall door, giving us their parting blessing, and the old comfortable-looking gentlemanly butler arranging my luggage. One of the dear family accompanied me to the railroad, and saw me fairly on my way to London.
In London we again enjoyed the great pleasure of being received like old friends, not heard there truly divine music. There is no describing and no forgetting the effect of one of those sublime religious strains that seem to burst forth from you know not where, and swell and grow fuller and louder, and then more and more distant, and fainter and fainter, till you think it dying in the distance, and then gush out with an overwhelming fulness of harmony and beauty. One feels as if he would hear such strains at the hour of death.
Our next object was St. Paul's. How different! how very different! In a Gothic building, you think that the artist, who designed it, had in mind the idea of the solemn forest where the crossing branches produce all those beautiful lines and forms, which so delight your eye, and where the dim, mysterious light awakens and accords with the religious sentiment; but the effect of the great dome, which suggests the open sky, is entirely opposite. The effect upon your mind of standing in the middle of St. Paul's is very impressive; but what moved me most was the sound of the people without the walls. No one of our party spoke, and the noise of the busy multitude without was like the waves of the ocean. I had heard the voice of many waters while coming over the Atlantic, and there is no exaggeration; it is just such a sound, such an ebbing and flowing, and yet such a full and constant roar, as the waves make after continued high winds. It was truly sublime, this concentrated sound of this living multitude of human beings, these breathings and heavings of the heart of the mighty monster, London.