BOSTON—PETERBORO—LYNN.

Arrived at 2 p. m. on Whitsunday, June 9. What a charm has this word Boston. It is to us of greater interest than any spot in Old England. Now the anticipations of years were about to be realized. This, our mother city, is a seaport of Lincolnshire, situated on both sides of the River Witham, and six miles from the sea. It is on the Great Western Railway, 107 miles northeast of London, and has a population of 15,576, which was the number of our Boston's population in 1765, more than a century ago. The two divisions of the town are connected by an iron bridge of 86½ feet span, so it will be seen the river is quite narrow at this part, which is about the centre of its population and business. The place may be said to be noted for the neatness of its streets. It is well lighted, and supplied with water from a distance of 14 miles. There is a grammar school, established in 1554, and founded by William and Mary. It has a court-house and a market-house, and there are commodious salt-water baths, established in 1830 for the use of the public. Its principal manufactures are sail-cloth, cordage, leather, and brass and iron work. A monastery was established here in 654, by the Saxon St. Botolph, and was destroyed by the Danes in 870. Hence, as Lombard says, "the name of Botolph's town, commonly and corruptly called Boston." During the civil wars Boston was for a time the headquarters of Cromwell's army. Its decline subsequent to the sixteenth century was caused by the prevalence of the plague, and also by the increasing difficulty of the river's navigation. The healthfulness of the place has been greatly improved by drainage of the surrounding fens, and commercial prosperity has been somewhat restored by the improvements of the river. Vessels of 300 tons may now unlade in the heart of the city.

The city is celebrated as the birthplace of John Fox, the martyrologist, in 1517. His "Book of Martyrs" first appeared in London in 1563. In his introduction he says that it details "the great persecutions and horrible troubles that have been wrought and practised by Romishe prelates, especially in this realme of England and Scotlande, from the yeare of our Lorde a thousande, unto the tyme now present." The work met with great success, though its truthfulness has always been denied by the Catholics. He died in London in 1587, at the age of seventy.

The building of most interest of course to us Americans is the grand old church of St. Botolph, for it was in this church that John Cotton was vicar, and going as he did from there to our Boston, and being minister of its first church, our city was named Boston in honor of him. The edifice is built with its west end, at the centre of which is the elegant tower, with only a narrow road in front, facing the river, the rear end extending well up into the fine square, or most business-like part of the city. It is of a brown sandstone, 291 feet long, 99 feet wide; and the grand west-end tower, with its fine lantern, but with no spire above it, is 291 feet high, or just the length of the entire church. There is a good burial-ground around it, kept with remarkable neatness.

The interior is very grand and imposing, having the usual range of columns and Gothic arches, and all is in color a very light cream-tint, or almost white. The great east window of the chancel was paid for by the subscriptions of American Bostonians, and is a worthy and elegant testimonial. This is the largest church without transepts in the kingdom. It was built in 1309, and so is now 574 years old, but in most perfect repair. All the surroundings are very neat, and the parish is one of great influence and importance.

Rev. John Cotton, who connects our Boston so intimately with it, was born at Derby, England, Dec. 4, 1585. He was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he was entered in his thirteenth year. In 1612, or at the age of 27, he became vicar of St. Botolph's, where he remained for 20 years, and was noted for fine elocutionary power, and as a controversialist. He inclined toward the doctrines and worship of the Puritans, and was so influential that he carried a large part of his people with him; and great danger was threatened to the parish in denominational points of view. He would not kneel at the sacrament, and his non-conformism at length became so apparent, and was pronounced so odious, that he was ordered to appear before Archbishop Laud's high-commission court. He was too confirmed in his opinions to recant; and for safety fled to London, where he remained for some time, and then left for America, arriving in our Boston, Sept. 4, 1633.

In October he was installed as colleague with Mr. John Wilson, pastor of the church. He was for a long time the leading spirit and mind in the New England Church. His death was occasioned by a severe cold, taken by exposure while crossing the ferry to Cambridge, where he went to preach, his death occurring Dec. 23, 1652, the length of his ministry in each of the two churches, here and in old Boston, being alike. He was very learned, and was a fine Greek critic; he is said to have written Latin with great elegance, and it is stated that he could discourse freely in Hebrew. He was a strong Calvinist, often spending twelve hours a day in reading Calvin's works.

He was very strict in his observance of the Sabbath, and in accordance with his interpretation, and from the authoritative nature of the statement that "the evening and the morning were the first day," he argued for the keeping, as holy time, from Saturday evening at sunset, till sunset of Sunday; and so influential was he that he stamped the impress of his belief and custom on all New England, and thousands yet living remember well the practice. In fact it would not be difficult to find individuals, if not families, who yet observe the custom. He was zealous for the interests of both civil and religious matters, as he understood them, and was rigid and intolerant of those who differed from him in opinion, however honest their convictions.

He was a great foe of Roger Williams, and did much towards making him odious, and caused him at length to be banished from Boston in 1635, when he went to what is now Providence, R. I. As he says: "Having a sense of God's merciful providence unto me in my distress, I called the place Providence, and desired it might be for a shelter for persons distressed for conscience."

Mr. Cotton wrote and published some works, among them one called "Milk for Babes," designed for children, but containing what would in our time be considered strong and indigestible theological meat, and so it is very properly withheld. His daughter was wife of the celebrated Dr. Increase Mather, pastor of the Second Church in our Boston, who was president of Harvard College in 1681. Their son, the renowned Dr. Cotton Mather, who was born in Boston, Feb. 12, 1663, and died Feb. 13, 1728, was named for his grandfather, John Cotton.

Our time of arrival was too late for attending service as we thought to do, and so we enjoyed a walk over the city, and much to our pleasure. As before named, the river runs through the centre of the place; and at the principal parts a wall is built along its banks, with good cut stone for a half-mile or more, with the proper stairways down to the water. The remainder of the way, and at the outskirts, the banks are very muddy and irregular, with deep gorges or indentations. They were, as we saw them at low water, full twenty feet deep, and struck us very unpleasantly. One sight impressed us rather strangely—a series of sheep, swine (perhaps), and cattle pens, with low fences for divisions, along the centre of the main street or thoroughfare, but having a good wide avenue on each side.

Hotels, or taverns, seemed to abound, and, as in all England, they have peculiar names. So interesting was this idea to us, while the theme was new, that at one time we began to note them down, but soon found the work so increasing on our hands as to compel us to desist. A few of them—though of course not all in Boston—are as follows, Old Hen and Chickens, Ring O' Bells, Little Nag's Head, Raven and Bell, Dog and Partridge, Grapes and Bell, Five Ways Inn, Packhorse Tap, Hop-pole Inn, Leather Bottle, The Old Fox Inn, The Three Cups, Haunch of Venison, Running Horse, Fighting Cocks. These are but examples of what may be seen in almost any English town. We are sorry to have to add that in old Boston, as in the new one, rum-holes and drinking places abound. In this, the mother emulates the daughter.

There are very pleasant walks out from the place, and we much enjoyed those near the suburbs, they were so much unlike anything to be seen here at home. Some of the streets of this Old Boston are very narrow and crooked, though not especially antique, nor very ancient in appearance; yet these low two-story buildings had an entire absence of so much as an intimation of anything new, though all was very clean and tidy. The walk around to the left, at the edge of the river in this district, is very charming, for from here St. Botolph's great tower is seen to fine advantage, and we shall never forget the sweet sound of the bells at sunset.

We continued our walk back into the square at the rear of the church, and now met a very large crowd of people. No homeward-bound Catholic audience in our Boston outnumbers them. It seems a service had been held at 6.30 p. m., of which unfortunately we were not aware. We availed ourselves of the opportunity of the open house, and so had a good visit to the church itself. In one of the walls was a marble tablet set up to the memory of John Cotton. It was put there by American subscriptions, through the labors and efforts of Hon. Edward Everett. The tablet, and the great east window; this old tiled floor, on which we stood, so many times walked over by Boston's great minister; these walls and columns and arches, which for twenty years resounded with his voice,—how befitting were the influences to make holy to us the Sabbath.

We had walked in the morning about the great cathedral at Lincoln, to which See this St. Botolph's pays allegiance and tribute, and where Cotton himself had many times worshipped, and had doubtless preached. We had perchance kept the early part of the day in a manner he would not approve; but now sunset had come, and freedom of action, according to his law of interpretation.

Boston has yet remaining a few of the antique buildings, and they are prized highly. We saw one, a good specimen of the kind. It was of the timber-and-plaster construction, two stories high, with three gables; and all was recently put in perfect repair, and it is said to be 600 years old. Near the venerable church is the workingmen's reading-room, in which there is a case of books donated by our city of Boston, or, it may be, by some of her citizens. We were happy to be able to make a small contribution in the shape of half a dozen of our city newspapers—Heralds, Travellers, and Journals. We had taken a room at a quiet, comfortable, little commercial-travellers' house,—and most of England's towns have them,—and so now, at 10 p. m., after a good inspiring ramble along the other side of the river, among nice little two-story brick houses with their pretty gardens, we ended the day. Monday a. m., up early for a new ramble over the place. It appeared charmingly homelike. The good market-square was just being used, and stores, or shops, were opening. We must and did pass up once more into the burial-ground, or churchyard, of St. Botolph's. We admired over again the lofty tower and belfry, which is a landmark forty miles at sea.

We tried to think of it, and see it as it is, hundreds after hundreds of years old. As the strong breeze of that clear morning blew over it, and whistled about its turrets, we saw its great power of resistance to storms, but the results of them were apparent. Time-worn, weather-beaten, and old it looked to be; and by-and-by came the thoughts that never do come early,—that all is ancient, and was very old before our country was thought of.

We walked along the farther side, to the great east division,—for there are two distinct parts to the fine old edifice,—and then, as we looked critically at the large windows, unusual in dimensions, and filled to repletion with most elegant stone tracery, we left, admiring St. Botolph's. Next we passed over the bridge, passing by the nice cream-colored hotel, and through the long and not over-wide streets, with two-story-high brick houses on either side, and here and there, on side streets, a few gardens, all not much like things American, though not peculiar enough to give them great interest; and so we passed on to the station, and had been to Boston,—a treat to us then, and ever since, and the time cannot be so extended as to injure the charm. We love new Boston now all the better since we have seen the old, and know it had an honorable parentage.

We now, at 8.30 a. m. on this fine Whit-Monday, June 10, leave Boston for Peterboro', another of the good cathedral towns. We have only just begun our seventh week of travel. As we here remember all we have thus far written, and think that only six weeks have been employed in making this grand tour, we are bewildered, and inclined to ask: Did we ever employ, or shall we ever use, another six weeks to so good advantage? We ride on among the hills and over fertile fields, amidst fine vegetation—fresh from some showers of yesterday, which we didn't name, they were so little disturbing. We are charmed on this tour, and admire the industry everywhere manifest; as out of our Boston, good cultivation of the land is a rule, and no exception. Here are elegant landscapes, fine trees, single and in groups, and woods, or what the English Bostonians call forests. We had wondered how these things were,—whether all the trees had not been cut off. We were prepared to see miles of territory treeless. But no! trees abound, and over pretty much all the territory we have been through.

Except for long lines or masses of woods, or timber-lands, such as we see at home, the aspect varies little from that of the average of New England. All that strikes one forcibly is an absence of ruggedness, and such rocky or barren conditions as we often find in New Hampshire or Connecticut, or along the Maine shore. Take the good, fertile, undulating part of New England; remove fences and stone walls, and, instead, put about a tenth as many divisions, made by hedges; reduce the number of apple orchards,—and you have the English landscape. As you near the seaboard of England from any side, you get the rocks, and more of the seaboard look. This is strikingly so at the south part of the kingdom, towards Canterbury and Brighton. Very New Englandish, even like Essex County from Salem to Newburyport, does all appear. But now at 10.30 a. m. on this Monday, after a beautiful and refreshing ride of 2¾ hours, we are at the famed cathedral city of

PETERBORO'.

Who that in other days saw the old, entertaining, and good Penny Magazine doesn't know something of this grand old place, and the cathedral with its three great west arches, and its central tower without a spire? This was a semi-holiday; it so seemed, for most of the inhabitants were in the streets, and at liberty. A pleasant day; but, though the 10th of June, it was cool enough to make our overcoats comfortable, and we wore them till noon. Valises deposited, this time at the station, we went direct to the cathedral.

It was a way we had. These great objects of interest are centres from which all other good things appear to radiate. Make for one of them and you make no mistake, for entertainment is at hand. You are well pleased; all thoughts are occupied; other persons are there before you, and are like-conditioned. Never one cathedral yet visited when we were first of the lot, or alone. The doors are always ajar and the verger in readiness, as though stationed there and in waiting for us in particular, even as though we had telegraphed that we were to come. Not at all officious are they, or over-inclined to get in our way. Never are they troublesome or interfering with even our thoughts, or quiet examination alone,—but tractable and ready, at the first overture on our part, to civilly answer any question, to explain, to tell us what we want to know. They are masters of the art of judiciously informing us that there are yet things hid from view that we can see if we wish, and how gently they name the small fee required. If there had been normal schools, or rather one, in all England, and it had been a requisite before employment in these cathedrals that they should attend the school, graduate, and then pass examination in the way of doing these things,—had this been done, no more propriety and judiciousness could be manifested.

We were surprised with the building. We admired it. We had been so highly fed on food of the kind we were getting dainty, but this was taken in with a relish. What a fine close around the old structure! How quiet! How varied its landscape! Well, the whole this time was enchanting, for it was unlike others. So many nooks and corners for pretty rambles; so many old walls and ruins about the premises; for very extended was the thing here in the centuries gone. We were in admiration with the grounds in their many departments; for once the cathedral itself was second; but soon we turned to the thing that makes the grounds what they are, and were at first sight struck with the good repair of the entire structure, and with its clean and solid appearance. The architecture is Norman and Early English.

It is very old, for the See was established, or rather the cathedral was founded, by Peada, one of the kings of Mercia, which was one of the ancient divisions of England. It was destroyed by the Danes, and afterwards rebuilt as it is. It is 476 feet long, with transepts 203 wide, and has a central tower 150 feet high, ending with lofty turrets at the four corners. There are also two small spires at the ends of the great west front. This part forms a section 150 feet in height and breadth, and consists of three magnificent arches 80 feet high, surmounted by pediments and pinnacles, flanked by the small towers before named; and in this front the cathedral is peculiar. It was begun in 906, and at the time of the Reformation was considered one of the most splendid religious edifices in the kingdom.

The interior is very grand and imposing. It is light-colored, almost white, having been restored, as it is called; which means that repairs have been thoroughly made in every part, and all washes, or tinted coatings, have been cleaned off, and as near as possible the work left in its original or natural color. There was a time, however, when all cathedrals had more or less of gorgeous decorations in fresco and high positive colors; next a white or tinted preparation covered all; and now, as that has been removed, more or less of the old frescoes show, but of course in a badly disfigured condition, and are only interesting as relics of another age. The probabilities are, the time will come when all will be re-frescoed in the gay colors of old.

At the Reformation everything savoring of art, in the way of painting in churches, was condemned. A great reaction seems to be taking place, and the church has discovered that it is quite possible to use and not abuse these things; and in some instances artists were at work in cathedrals, painting small portions as specimens for re-decorating the entire work. Some examples of frescoed ceilings are already complete. Peterboro' is now very white and clean, and the effect of its great interior is most pleasing.

It abounds in monuments, and many of them are of great antiquity and interest. Our statement must be so meagre that we dislike at all to enter the field of description, but will venture a little.

Catherine of Aragon, first wife of Henry VIII., is buried here; and it is said that on account of the fact of this being her place of burial, the king was pleased to give orders that the cathedral be mildly dealt with, and so it escaped that destructive action that so much injured all the others.

Mary, Queen of Scots, was also buried here, but when her son James I. came to the throne, her remains were removed to Westminster Abbey, where they now repose. The graves of these two eminent women were together, and now the verger tells us: "There lies Catherine of Aragon, and there next to her, and for years was buried, Queen Mary, but by reason of that letter," pointing to a letter, glass and framed, hanging near by, "her remains were removed to Westminster." We peruse the letter in the king's handwriting, and muse on the fact with a melancholy interest, and pass on. So much was this cathedral admired by King Edgar, that he bestowed such valuable gifts upon it that he caused the name of the city to be changed to Goldenburg, the Golden Town, which title at length gave place to its present name, derived from St. Peter, to whom the cathedral was dedicated.

The dean and chapter, by virtue of their office, exercise so much authority in the civil government of the city as to make it practically under their jurisdiction.

This being Whit-Monday, and a holiday, the cathedral was open free in all parts to the public, and hundreds were going and coming all the time we were in it,—a large part of them doubtless from out of town. We were thus favored with a view of an English town on a holiday, and traces were present of what gave the country the title of Merrie Englande. All the people were well dressed, sober, courteous, and full of enjoyment. Band-concerts and horse-trots were in order, and a balloon ascension in a park. The eating-houses were full, and from our experience of the results of the practice "first come, first served," it practically meant, that he that did not first come, was likely to be served poorly, or perhaps, what was better, not served at all.

Peterboro' has the honor of being the birthplace of the renowned Dr. William Paley, who was born in July, 1743, and died May 25, 1805. He was graduated at Christ College, Cambridge, in 1763; in 1782 was made Archdeacon of Carlisle. In 1785 appeared his celebrated work, "Principles of Moral and Political Economy," the copyright of which brought him $5,000. In 1794 was published his "View of the Evidences of Christianity," and in 1802 his great work, "Natural Theology." These works were long used as text-books in theological studies, and mark their author as one of superior intellect and of profound reasoning powers. While the deductions of his reasoning and arguments from given data are freely admitted, yet later thought—and the breaking forth of that light from the Scriptures, which the Pilgrims' minister, John Robinson of Leyden, expected would come—has destroyed some of his data, or premises from which he argued, and of course the results are anything but such as in his day, and as seen from his standpoint, appeared reasonable or right.

In the vicinity of Peterboro' is Milton Park, the seat of Earl Fitzwilliam. The estate is said to be a most elegant one, and freely open to the public at certain hours of the day. This custom is one that strikes the tourist very favorably, and always awakens a sense of gratitude. No cathedral or building of importance is ever closed from, say, 9 a. m. to 6 p. m., and facilities are furnished the visitor to examine all parts. Much of it is entirely free, and when a fee is charged it is a reasonable one, and only such as will prevent a rush of loafers to the premises; and the fee goes to pay the salary of the attendant, or for repairs of the structure. And now at 3 p. m. came another time for "moving on," so we took train for

LYNN.

As will be observed, we are at times in places of very familiar names, and to us this is one, and a place also we much desired to see; for from this, our Lynn in New England took its name. It was arrived at after an hour's ride, and is a beautiful place, in certain respects reminding one of our Lynn, for, although the houses are mostly of two or of three stories in height, and of brick or stone, yet they have so many gardens intervening, and a general freedom from compactness for a majority of the place, as to give it a somewhat rural character; though in the more immediate business part it has an old, perhaps aged look, and is compact and very business-like. The streets are well paved and lighted; there are many fine stores, and the old market-square is surrounded by very substantial stone buildings.

The city is situated on the River Ouse, nine miles from the North Sea; so that, as at our Lynn, the salt water flows by its few wharves, and tides rise and fall regularly. There are here also salt marshes, and, while we were there, the tide being out, the banks of the river showed to worst, or, as we should say for our purpose, to best advantage, for we would see them at their worst, and, from the "lay of the land," could imagine them at their best. The water was, at this time of tide, down some 20 feet from the surface of land, and was perhaps 800 feet wide. The banks were quite irregular and very muddy from their top down to the water, and the river, while running in one general direction, was rather crooked. From the opposite bank was a grand sort of upland meadow, of perhaps a quarter of a mile width, and beyond this, slightly higher land, stretching well to the right and left; and of a most pleasing nature was this landscape, for there were fine mansions embowered in fine groups of trees, splendid lawns, and every evidence of a good civilization. Taken as a whole, this peculiar river, with schooners, yachts, scows and fishing-boats; a general lack of finish to anything about the river except the grand meadow and fine domain bordering it; the, to us, very natural and pleasing odor of the salt water,—even New-England-Lynn-like, as it was on this fine warm summer afternoon,—these combined to make us definite in our praise of this Lynn Harbor.

At our back was the city, and along at the edge of the river were just such old, and, if not dilapidated, certainly not lately built or repaired wharves; and on them were just such things, for fishermen's use, as are required to make a place of the kind in harmony with itself and complete. There were old warehouses, three and four stories high, quite thickly bordering on the wharf-street, or narrow roadway. Not a thing that was new any time during this half-century, and most of it was old on the other side of 1800; but the aggregate was complete, for this, like our Lynn, is a semi-commercial place. Back of these storehouses were the town streets, and the good business portion; and here in the midst was one of the best possible examples of a very large, almost cathedralish, ancient, stone, Gothic church, St. Margaret's, founded in the twelfth century. It was enclosed in part by a high but open iron fence, and the usual ancient burial-ground was about it.

Another church of antiquity and note is St. Nicholas. It was erected in the fourteenth century, and is, for a thing of the kind, one of the finest in the kingdom. It is in the Gothic style, 200 feet long, and 78 feet wide. The city has a population of 17,266, which was the population of our Lynn sometime between the years 1850 and 1860. It has been said that the place is situated on the River Ouse, that stream being the principal river, but there are four other small streams, or navigable rivers, running into the city, and these are crossed by more than a dozen bridges. Anciently the place was defended on the land side by a fosse, which is a ditch or moat, with here and there strong bastions, or battery structures; and there are the remains of an ancient embattled wall and of one gateway. The city has a free grammar school, founded in the fifteenth century. To give it character as a place of antiquity, it has the ruins of a convent and an octagonal Ladye Tower. It has several ancient hospitals for the poor, an ancient guildhall, a jail, theatre, library, mechanics' institution, a large market-house, and a fort. Up to fifty years ago the trade of Lynn took rank as the fifth in England. A bar of shifting sand at the mouth of the river seriously troubled it, and a decline came, but its good prospects are now on the increase. It has quite large exports of corn and wool, and it has shipyards, breweries, iron-foundries, cork-works, and rope and tobacco manufactories; and steamers ply between this place and Hull. Lynn was remarkable for its fidelity to the royal cause in the time of King John, who died Oct. 19, 1216; and, as a reward for its fidelity, the king presented the place with a silver cup and sword. The people were also very loyal, and espoused the cause of Charles I., who was beheaded in London, Jan. 30, 1649.

Our rambles along the river and through the streets of this place were very entertaining; a rural atmosphere prevailed, as before named, through a large part of it, and a good, healthy, substantial, business-like air through the remainder. At 4.30 p. m. we took cars for Wells.