We made our expedition to Bishopsgate yesterday, and most interesting it was. I went with Hilda and M. Lecomte, one of the secretaries, who knows English, and is very keen to see anything a little out of the way. We had a long drive to the church through the city, and arrived only to hear the end of Canon Rogers' sermon, which was strong and practical. As soon as the service was over we went down to the door and found him and his curate waiting for us. The first thing he did was to send away my carriage, which had already attracted much attention with the tall footman, velvet breeches, cockades, etc. He said he would never venture into Petticoat Lane in such an equipage, and would we please share his modest conveyance; so Hilda and I got into his victoria, and Lecomte and the curate walked close to the carriage behind. We had two policemen in front, two behind, and a detective. I rather demurred to such a display of municipal strength on my account, but he said it was necessary, he much preferred having them, he was afraid people would crowd around us and insist upon my buying something. The street was narrow, crowded with people, as there was also a fair going on and everything imaginable being sold (it is the one place in London where you can buy _one_ shoe or _one_ stocking!). The people were almost all Jews, and I must say they were a bad-looking lot, frightfully rough specimens. Some of the women, girls too, with such sullen, scowling faces. We went at a foot's pace (the only carriage), and hadn't the slightest difficulty in making our way. Everyone knew Mr. Rogers and spoke to him--"Good morning, Governor," "God bless you, Sir." Two or three children ran up to him, one a pretty little dark-eyed girl breathless to tell him she was in church, though she came late. He was so nice to them all, called them all by name, patted the children on the head, and exhorted some of the women to keep their husbands out of the drinking shops, and to wash their children's faces. They say he does an immense amount of good down there, but it must be uphill work. I have rarely seen such a forbidding looking set of people. Some of the women came up rather close to the low victoria and made comments on our garments. (We had dressed very simply at his request. I wore my blue foulard and a blue straw bonnet with iris on it. Hilda was in light grey with a black hat.) "You have got a beautiful bonnet, my lady. Oh, look at her umbrell!" The "umbrell" excited much attention. I couldn't think why at first, as it was also rather dark and plain; when I remembered that it had a watch in the handle upon which, of course, all eyes were fixed. I think the detective kept his eye upon it too, as he came up rather close on my side. The detective took Lecomte to a famous jeweller's shop near in Whitechapel, where there had been a murder some days ago. We drove all through the fair surrounded by these villainous faces (here and there a pretty,