the air is sweet; but pass through the "gents' cabin,” and the atmosphere is disgusting, and the floor is an abomination. Man approaches very close to the brute. The heat of the stove and the fumes of tobacco make the air perfectly unendurable, while the floor reeks with the filthy expectorations of weed-loving gentlemen. Fortunately gentlemen who do not smoke enjoy the privilege of staying in the ladies' cabin if they are so disposed, and I for one always avail myself of that privilege. There is an article in a paper in which it is gravely, and hence I dare say, truly stated that it is no uncommon thing now to find receptacles for tobacco juice in pulpits and in the pews of churches of all denominations of the land, or if not so provided, those places are smeared with the filthy compound. Gentlemen take tobacco into their mouths, as men in Ireland take snuff into their noses. In the same article "Slang in the Pulpit," a preacher is represented as having said "Some time ago I knocked the bottom out of hell, and now I am going to hammer away at the sides." Another says, after laying down what he considered a wholesome maxim, "Stick a pin in that." Another on a similar occasion, " Put that in your pipe and smoke it." A third relating an anecdote broke off at a certain point and said, "You know how it is yourself."

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Every evening some gentlemen visit me and spend an hour or two. The man that pleases me most is Stephen Joseph Meany. He is a person of very gentlemanly manners and appearance, scholarly and accomplished, and a very agreeable social companion. Other gentlemen come and proffer their services for the promotion of my lecture. I am very much struck by their kindness, one of them undertaking to write paragraphs for all the papers. Captain

Mackay comes and spends an hour with me this evening. He is a remarkable person, small in appearance, but highsouled as man could be; capable of bloody exploits, and a planner of daring "raids," yet almost monastic in his religious habits and style of living.

March 5th.-Come by train to Boston. Am visited by Mr. John White. Hear Mass at the Church of the Immaculate Conception. A very fine church and most respectable congregation, admirable music, and first-rate sermon from Father Fulton, S. J. I was very much pleased with the whole thing. I saw at Mass Doctor and Mrs. Salter. I met them coming out, and they introduced me to Doctor Marshal, an English convert of some considerable fame, an Oxford man, and author of a clever work entitled, History of Christian Missions, and a publication that caused great amusement a few years ago, viz.,-The Comedy of Convocation.

If there be one thing more admirable than another in this country, it is that no man is ashamed to labour, and no kind of labour is despised. Also that you may associate with any man, and bring any man into any company, and all are “gentlemen." You may sit down and eat and drink with the coachman who drives you, and introduce the gentleman to every one around. Men of wealth are always "boasting" how they began life with nothing. How they became shoe-blacks, or tailor's apprentices, or newsboys, and crept up into wealth. And somehow in society you discover no classes of rank. All men seem to commingle on a broad common ground. The conversation to be sure is not above the reach of the humblest intellect-but the manners of all are polite, and the poorest man is bold and independent, and speaks correctly and with force.

March 11th-Nothing particular. I kept myself as quiet as possible. The weather is delightful, and I walk every day in the common and public gardens, "the finest in the world, yes, sir!"

March 12th.-My lecture came off this evening in the Boston Theatre. The audience was immense and looked really magnificent. Twenty Cork ladies and gentlemen drove in an immense carriage with four horses from Salem to Boston to hear me, 15 miles. I had a great gathering in my room after the lecture-those twenty and some twenty more. Some witty things were said, for we Cork people are witty. The best was by John White. He has a great habit of saying "like a tiger;" it is an amplification, a superlative of his. We were speaking of niggers, and he said he met a nigger once who spoke Irish "like a tiger."

"And, John," said I, "did you ever hear a tiger speak Irish ?"

"To be sure I did."

"What kind of a tiger?" I asked.

"Why, an Irish tiger, of course."

The lecture was for the Vincent de Paul Society, and must have realised a large sum.

I waited on Bishop Williams to thank him for his patronage of us and our cause. He was very agreeable and pleasing. Went to see some other friends and then came home. Had a visit from Mr. Ambrose Shea, purser of the "Batavia," with whom I dined, in his ship, at New York, February 9th. He has been twice across the Atlantic since. He was accompanied by Dr. Johnson of the same ship, and they invited me to come and see them to-morrow on board the vessel.

March 15th.-Left Boston at 8 a.m. for Montreal, a distance of over 300 miles, a very long journey; it took fourteen hours. The day, however, was beautiful, and the scenery after the first hundred miles, and especially through Vermont, was charming. The soil for the most part appears to be thin and poor. There was little vegetation and no verdure. There were fine large rivers and mountains, many of which were wooded to a great height. I fancy in summer the scenery here is very fine. I had been introduced to a gentleman, Judge Woodbury, who sat with me for a few hours. He was in great glee over the result of the elections for New Hampshire the day before; the Democrats had obtained a large majority, an event that had not happened for the last sixteen years. The Judge was an ardent Democrat and himself a Senator for the State of Massachusetts. Wherever we went, whatever station we touched, the excitement was Newsboys all flocked into the cars crying. "The

the same.

Monitor," ‚” “All about the elections," or some other exclamations of the same kind. The people in the trains could talk of nothing else. The point of the thing was that it took everyone by surprise, Democrats themselves as well as Republicans. I as an outsider was very much amused by all this, and was sorry I could not take a livelier interest in

it.

I was struck as we passed along by the strange names of some places. One station bore the name of Canaan, another of East Lebanon, relics of Puritan fervour, but we had no sooner passed the Canadian frontier than we were met by St. Alban's, St. Alexander, St. John, &c., a new style of nomenclature, indicating certainly a more Christian tone of feeling than Puritanism in those who named them.

St. Alban's is on the St. Lawrence, which I see for the second time to-day. Oh, the weary journey. The Grand Trunk Railway on which we get here is very rough and uncomfortable. I have heard the same before and can endorse it.

I reach Montreal at 9.50, and am located in my hotel at 10 p.m. Two gentlemen on the part of Mr. Devlin wait on me, Messrs. Doran and Egan. Where is Mr. Devlin himself? I have some supper in my room, and retire for the night.

In the United States there is constant hurry, activity, excitement-money-making always going on, every one trying to make the dollar. Nothing save the dollar is respected, and it is wonderful how many very rich men are everywhere. There is no street in which you will not find a man worth thousands, tens of thousands, a million of dollars. Nothing is so common as to hear a person say, "Do you see that man? That, man, sir, is worth a million and a half of dollars." Of another, "That man, sir, twenty years ago was a newsboy, a shoeblack, or filled some other low occupation, he was not worth a cent; now, sir, he is worth two millions of dollars."

Men of business habits-and that includes nearly all Americans-do not care how much time they spend at their business. One man, an Irishman, said to me of his employer: