After spending a day in looking about through this great thoroughfare, the Strand, I sallied forth with letters of introduction, with which I had been provided by my friends before leaving America; and following the direction of one, I was soon at No. 6, A, Waterloo Place. A moment more, and I was in the presence of one of whom I had heard much, and whose name is as familiar to the friends of the slave in the United States, as household words. Although I had never seen him before, yet I felt a feeling akin to love for the man who had proclaimed to the oppressors of my race in America, the doctrine of _immediate emancipation_ for the slaves of the great Republic. On reaching the door, I sent in my letter; and it being fresh from the hands of William Lloyd Garrison, the champion of freedom in the New World, was calculated to insure me a warm reception at the hands of the distinguished M.P. for the Tower Hamlets. Mr. Thompson did not wait for the servant to show me in; but met me at the door himself, and gave me a hearty shake of the hand, at the same time saying, "Welcome to England. How did you leave Garrison." I need not add, that Mr. T. gave me the best advice, as to my course in Great Britain; and how I could best serve the cause of my enslaved countrymen. I never enjoyed three hours more agreeably than those I spent with Mr. T. on the occasion of my first visit. George Thompson's love of freedom, his labours in behalf of the American slave, the negroes of the West Indies, and the wronged millions of India, are too well known to the people of both hemispheres, to need a word of comment from me. With the single exception of the illustrious Garrison, no individual is more loved and honoured by the coloured people of America, and their friends than Mr. Thompson. A few days after my arrival in London, I received an invitation from John Lee, Esq., LL.D., whom I had met at the Peace Congress in Paris, to pay him a visit at his seat, near Aylesbury; and as the time was "fixed" by the Dr., I took the train on the appointed day, on my way to Hartwell House. I had heard much of the aristocracy of England, and must confess that I was not a little prejudiced against them. On a bright sunshine day, between the hours of twelve and two, I found myself seated in a carriage, my back turned upon Aylesbury, the vehicle whirling rapidly over the smooth macadamised road, and I on my first visit to an English gentleman. Twenty minutes' ride, and a turn to the right, and we were amid the fine old trees of Hartwell Park; one having suspended from its branches, the national banners of several different countries; among them, the "Stars and Stripes. I felt glad that my own country's flag had a place there, although Campbell's lines"--