all; but you keep taking off one after another, in expectation of coming
to the inner nucleus, including the whole value of the matter. It proves
however, that there is no such nucleus, and that chastity is diffused
through the whole series of coats, is lessened with the removal of each,
and vanishes with the final one, which you supposed would introduce you
to the hidden pearl.


March 23d.--Mr. B. and I took a cab Saturday afternoon, and drove out of
the city in the direction of Knowsley. On our way we saw many
gentlemen's or rich people's places, some of them dignified with the
title of Halls,--with lodges at their gates, and standing considerably
removed from the road. The greater part of them were built of brick,--a
material with which I have not been accustomed to associate ideas of
grandeur; but it was much in use here in Lancashire, in the Elizabethan
age,--more, I think, than now. These suburban residences, however, are
of much later date than Elizabeth's time. Among other places, Mr. B.
called at the Hazels, the residence of Sir Thomas Birch, a kinsman of
his. It is a large brick mansion, and has old trees and shrubbery about
it, the latter very fine and verdant,--hazels, holly, rhododendron, etc.
Mr. B. went in, and shortly afterwards Sir Thomas Birch came out,--a very
frank and hospitable gentleman,--and pressed me to enter and take
luncheon, which latter hospitality I declined.

His house is in very nice order. He had a good many pictures, and,
amongst them, a small portrait of his mother, painted by Sir Thomas
Lawrence, when a youth. It is unfinished, and when the painter was at
the height of his fame, he was asked to finish it. But Lawrence, after
looking at the picture, refused to retouch it, saying that there was a
merit in this early sketch which he could no longer attain. It was