Mr. Ticknor has been to see De Quincey, and says he is a noble old man and eloquent, and wins hearts in personal intercourse. His three daughters, Margaret, Florence, and Emily, are also very attractive and cultivated, and they are all most impatient to see Mr. Hawthorne. . . . We are all going to Chester first on a Sunday, to attend the Cathedral service with the children. How very singular that this dream of mine, like so many other dreams, is coming true! For I always wished earnestly that the children might go to church first in a grand old cathedral, so that their impression of social worship might be commensurate with its real sublimity. And, behold, it will be so,--for they never yet have been to church. The echoes of those lofty vaults are scarcely ever silent, for an anthem is sung there every day. Afterwards we shall go on a week-day to examine the old town, said to be older than Rome itself! October 5. On Saturday, the ist, Mr. Hawthorne went to dine at Mr. Aikens's with the two sons of Burns, Colonel and Major Burns. He says they were gentlemanly persons, and agreeable, but not resembling their father. After dinner, one of them sang one of Burns's songs, and again another in the drawing-room. . . . Mr. Fields says, "'Tanglewood' is going finely. Three thousand were sold at once on its appearance, and it is still moving rapidly. The notices have been glorious everywhere; and they ought to be, for the book is one of the most delightful which your pen has let slip." October 21. We are going to dine out this evening, at Mr. and Mrs. Charles Holland's, Liscard Vale. These persons Mr. Hawthorne met a little while ago at the house of Mr. Aikens, where he saw the sons of Burns. For the benefit of cousin Mary Loring [the very beautiful and spirited Mrs. George B. Loring, nee Pickman], I will say now that my wreath is just from Paris, and consists of very exquisite flowers that grow in wreaths. Part of it is the blackberry-vine (strange to say), of such cunning workmanship that Julian says he knows the berries are good to eat. The blossoms, and the black and red and green fruit and leaves, are all equally perfect. Then there are little golden balls, to imitate a plant that grows in Ireland,--fretted gold. Small flowers are woven closely in, over the top of the head, and behind the ears the long, streaming vines hang in a cluster.