_Monday, 21st._—Left London at seven o’clock. A. turned from me in tears. I felt very sad as I looked at her thin face and thought of all she has suffered, and will suffer.... In the evening I met a cordial welcome at Dudley.... Howy and I made an expedition to Worcester and Malvern; it gave us an opportunity for much intimate conversation. We had lovely weather, and found the country exceedingly beautiful. Rode up the Worcestershire Beacon on donkeys, eating, talking, and laughing at our entanglement with other parties, and enchanted with the prospect; there was a tent on the hill, and parties dancing. We slid all the way down, and walked by Gully’s and Wilson’s water-cure establishments. Visited the noble old Worcester Cathedral, but looked in vain for our crest of arms, said to be there on the windows. Went over Grainger’s china manufactory; the production of cups and saucers on the wheel was like magic.... To Liverpool, but found the ship would not sail until Saturday. The very sight of it made me sick; so Cousin S. accompanied me to Manchester, where we had a very interesting visit. Mr. Wilson, an intelligent business man, escorted us over a large cotton manufactory. It was of exceeding interest. Eight hundred looms were at work in one room; mostly tended by women and many very young girls. We commenced our inspection by descending by ropes deep down into the vaults, where the cotton arrives from America and India; we then proceeded through room after room where all the processes were conducted, from breaking up the bales, tearing to pieces, sorting, carding, forming into sheets, twisting, spinning, weaving, and finally measuring and folding the cloth. We went up and down, by movable trap-doors, underground from street to street, all through the immense establishment. The noise was tremendous, the dust and heat oppressive. I noticed closely the workwomen, who seemed brutified by their toil; their physiognomies were assuming the projecting mouth of the lower animals. Most of them carried their hair-comb stuck in the back of their head; they were mostly youngish women, sallow and perspiring, and I noticed one woman so exhausted that she was obliged continually to sit down; they had often more than one loom to feed. They keep the men and women separate in their work as far as possible.... _Saturday, 26th._—Actually my last day on this noble British land! I left pale good Cousin S. standing in the street of Dudley; watched dear H. running up the railway bank as I rushed off in the train; and then I felt that I was indeed severed from England, and only anxious to get through my journey. I found myself at night on board ship, out in the Mersey. Another most important page in life fairly closed!