to rest at eleven.


_Saturday_, the 19th.--No mail, although fifteen days out. Took leave of
all customers, finished my business, and satisfied myself that there are
not more than six lace-importers in New York whom I would trust, most of
whom we shall have arranged with Mr. S. Pickersgill for our future
journey. Visited Barnham Museum, the owner of Tom Thumb; and found out
he is an English-bred boy, and no American giant. Spent a quiet evening
with Mr. and Mrs. Pearce. Retired to bed early: could not sleep for
reflecting.


_Sunday_ morning.--No mail. Most anxious for my despatches. Dr. Keen
called, and had a walk. Paid a visit to Dr. Dewey's handsome Unitarian
chapel, and heard an excellent sermon. Spent an hour more with Dr. Keen,
and dined with W.C. Pickersgill, Esq., our banker, a most intelligent,
well-informed man. He is the partner of Fielding Brothers, Liverpool,
and married Miss Riggs of Baltimore. Took tea and spent the evening with
A.T. Stewart and his wife, my fellow-passengers out, and first-rate
people; and retired to my bedroom to read the Bible at nine.


_Monday._--A most unpleasant journey. Took the Philadelphia rail to
Elizabethtown. Thence to Sommerville, and to Clover-hill per waggon, in
search of Mr. D----'s brother. Arrived at three o'clock, and found he
was from home: waited at a farmhouse till ten, when he arrived, and I
soon found out that the American atmosphere had contaminated him. A
regular thief!--would not pay his brothers (B---- and D----) a cent out
of £300 he owes them. Although I was miserable both in body and mind, I