we might bring to our homes, and gratefully cherish, the beautiful plants that God has sown at broadcast in our forests. I declare to you, when I remember how seldom I have seen our azalias, calmias, &c., in cultivated grounds, while I meet them here in such abundance, it seems like finding a neglected child housed and gently entertained by strangers. Some of us returned to dine and pass the evening with Mrs. —— and her daughter; and we left B—— Lodge warmed to the heart's core with this realization of our old poetic ideas of English hospitality.[1]
Friday, June 13.—We left Southampton this morning, feeling much, when we parted from Captain Hall and his family, as if we were launching alone on the wide world. He told us at the last, if we got into any difficulty, if we were at Johnny Groat's, to send for him. As far as the most thoughtful kindness and foresight can provide against difficulties, he has done so for us. Both he and Mrs. Hall have given us letters of introduction (unasked), and a score, at least, to their friends in London and Scotland, people of rank and distinction. To these they have added addresses to trade people of all descrip-
- ↑ I have abstained from transferring my journal whatever was personal to my kind entertainers, certainly the paramount charm of their place. We owed the warmth of our reception to letters from their and our friend, Mrs. Butler. To her, too, we owed our admiration to some of the best society in London, where her genius and character are held in the high estimation they deserve.
