London.

Dear Charley:—

After passing a day or two in a general view of the city, and making some preliminary arrangements for our future movements, we all called upon Mr. Lawrence, the minister of our country at the court of St. James, which expression refers to the appellation of the old palace of George III. Mr. Lawrence resides in Piccadilly, opposite the St. James's Park, in a very splendid mansion, which he rents from an English nobleman, all furnished. We were very kindly received by his excellency, who expressed much pleasure at seeing his young countrymen coming abroad, and said he was fond of boys, and liked them as travelling companions. I handed him a letter of introduction from his brother. Mr. Lawrence offered us all the facilities in his power to see the sights, and these are great, for he is furnished by the government of England with orders which will admit parties to almost every thing in and about London. Amongst other tickets he gave us the following admissions: to the Queen's stables, Windsor Castle, Dulwich Gallery, Woolwich Arsenal, Navy Yard, Sion House, Northumberland House, Houses of Parliament, and, what we highly valued, an admission to enter the exhibition, which is yet unfinished, and not open to inspection.

After leaving the minister, we paid our respects to Mr. Davis, the secretary of legation, and were kindly received. We walked on from Piccadilly to the Crystal Palace, passing Apsley House, the residence of the Duke of Wellington, and soon reached Hyde Park, with its famous gateway and the far-famed statue of "the duke." As we shall go into some detailed account of the palace after the exhibition opens, I would only say, that we were exceedingly surprised and delighted with the building itself, and were so taken up with that as hardly to look at its contents, which were now rapidly getting into order. The effect of the noble elms which are covered up in the palace is very striking and pleasing, and very naturally suggests the idea that the house would, by and by, make a glorious green-house for the city, where winter's discontents might be almost made into a "glorious summer." A poor fellow was killed here, just before we entered, by falling through the skylight roof. He was at work on a plank laid across the iron frame, and that tipping up, threw him on to the glass, and his death was instantaneous. We are more and more pleased at having so central a domicile as the Golden Cross, for time is every thing when you have to see sights; and here we can get to any point we desire by a bus, and obtain a fly at any moment. Very much that we desire to see, too, is east of Temple Bar, and our Mentor seems determined that we shall become acquainted with the London of other times, and we rarely walk out without learning who lived in "that house," and what event had happened in "that street." I fancy that we are going to gather up much curious matter for future use and recollection by our street wanderings. A book called "The Streets of London" is our frequent study, and is daily consulted with advantage. To-day we dined at the famous Williams's, in Old Bailey, where boiled beef is said to be better than at any other place in London. It was certainly as fine as could be desired. The customers were numerous, and looked like business men. The proprietor was a busy man, and his eyes seemed every where. A vision of cockroaches, however, dispelled the appetite for a dessert, and we perambulated our way to the Monument. This has a noble appearance, and stands on Fish Street Hill. The pillar is two hundred and two feet high, and is surmounted by a gilt flame. The object of the Monument is to commemorate the great fire of London in Charles II.'s reign.

It had an inscription which ascribed the origin of the fire to the Catholics; but recently this has been obliterated. It was to this inscription and allegation that Pope referred in his lines,—

There are few things in London that have impressed us more than the fine, massive bridges which span the Thames, and are so crowded with foot passengers and carriages. Every boy who has read much has had his head full of notions about London Bridge; that is, old London Bridge, which was taken down about thirty years ago. The old bridge was originally a wooden structure, and on the sides of the bridge were houses, and the pathway in front had all sorts of goods exposed for sale, and the Southwark gate of the bridge was disfigured with the heads and quarters of the poor creatures who were executed for treason.

The new bridge was commenced in 1825, and it was opened in 1831 by William IV. and Queen Adelaide. The bridge has five arches; the central one is one hundred and fifty feet in the clear, the two next one hundred and forty feet, and the extreme arches one hundred and thirty feet. The length, including the abutments, is about one thousand feet, its width eighty-three feet, and the road for carriages fifty-five feet.

The great roads leading to London Bridge have been most costly affairs; and I was told that a parish and its church had been destroyed to make these approaches. The men of different generations, who, for almost one thousand years, looked at the old bridge, would stare at the present one and its present vicinity, if they were to come back again. Southwark Bridge was commenced in 1814, and finished in 1819. It has three arches, and the central arch is two hundred and forty feet, which is the greatest span in the world. In this bridge are five thousand three hundred and eight tons of iron. Blackfriars Bridge was commenced in 1760, and opened in 1770. It has nine elliptical arches, of which the middle one is one hundred feet in width. Recently this bridge has been thoroughly repaired. I think this is my favorite stand-point for the river and city. Nowhere else have I obtained such a view up and down the river. Here I have a full prospect of the Tower, St. Paul's Cathedral, Somerset House, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and perhaps twenty-five other churches! But the great bridge of all is the Waterloo one, commenced in 1811, and opened in 1817, on the 18th of June, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo. Of course, the Duke of Wellington figured upon the occasion. At this point the river is one thousand three hundred and twenty-six feet wide; and the bridge is of nine elliptical arches, each of one hundred and twenty feet space, and thirty-five feet high above high water, and its entire length two thousand four hundred and fifty-six feet. It is painful to hear the sad stories which have a connection with this magnificent structure. It seems the chosen resort of London suicides, and very frequent are the events which almost justify its appellation—"the Bridge of Sighs." I love to walk this and the other bridges, and look at the mighty city, and think of its wonderful history and its existing place in the affairs of the world; and I cannot help thinking of the reflection of the wise man—"One generation passeth away, but the earth remaineth." I have never felt my own insignificance so much, Charley, as when walking in one of these crowded streets. I know no one; I am unknown; I am in solitude, and feel it more, perhaps, than I should if alone upon a mountain top or in a wilderness. I am sure I have told you enough for once, and perhaps you are as tired of my letter as I was in going over the places I have written to you about; so I will relieve your patience.

I am yours always,

weld.