"No danger of that，" said he； "we are all bright enough， and yet a cask of beer is rolled into the cellar for the mother with each newborn child."
Colonel Miller from Vermont， one of our American delegation， was in the Greek war with Lord Byron. As Lady Byron had expressed a wish to see him， that her daughter might know something of her father's last days， an interview was arranged， and the colonel kindly invited me to accompany him. His account of their acquaintance and the many noble traits of character Lord Byron manifested， his generous impulses and acts of self-sacrifice， seemed particularly gratifying to the daughter. It was a sad interview， arranged chiefly for the daughter's satisfaction， though Lady Byron listened with a painful interest. As the colonel was a warm admirer of the great poet， he no doubt represented him in the best possible light， and his narration of his last days was deeply interesting. Lady Byron had a quiet， reserved manner， a sad face， and a low， plaintive voice， like one who had known deep sorrow. I had seen her frequently in the convention and at social teas， and had been personally presented to her before this occasion. Altogether I thought her a sweet， attractive-looking woman.
We had a pleasant interview with Lord Brougham also. The Philadelphia Anti-slavery Society sent him an elaborately carved inkstand， made from the wood of Pennsylvania Hall， which was destroyed by a pro-slavery mob.
Mr. Birney made a most graceful speech in presenting the memento， and Lord Brougham was equally happy in receiving it.
One of the most notable characters we met at this time was Daniel O'Connell.
He made his first appearance in the London convention a few days after the women were rejected. He paid a beautiful tribute to woman and said that， if he had been present when the question was under discussion， he should have spoken and voted for their admission. He was a tall， well-developed， magnificent-looking man， and probably one of the most effective speakers Ireland ever produced. I saw him at a great India meeting in Exeter Hall， where some of the best orators from France， America， and England were present.
There were six natives from India on the platform who， not understanding anything that was said， naturally remained listless throughout the proceedings.
But the moment O'Connell began to speak they were all attention， bending forward and closely watching every movement. One could almost tell what he said from the play of his expressive features， his wonderful gestures， and the pose of his whole body. When he finished， the natives joined in the general applause. He had all Wendell Phillips' power of sarca** and denunciation， and added to that the most tender pathos. He could make his audience laugh or cry at pleasure. It was a rare sight to see him dressed in "Repeal cloth" in one of his Repeal meetings. We were in Dublin in the midst of that excitement， when the hopes of new liberties for that oppressed people all centered on O'Connell. The enthusiasm of the people for the Repeal of the Union was then at white-heat. Dining one day with the "Great Liberator，" as he was called， I asked him if he hoped to carry that measure.
"No，" he said， "but it is always good policy to claim the uttermost and then you will be sure to get something."
Could he have looked forward fifty years and have seen the present condition of his unhappy country， he would have known that English greed and selfishness could defeat any policy， however wise and far-seeing. The successive steps by which Irish commerce was ruined and religious feuds between her people continually fanned into life， and the nation subjugated， form the darkest page in the history of England. But the people are awakening at last to their duty， and， for the first time， organizing English public sentiment in favor of "Home Rule." I attended several large， enthusiastic meetings when last in England， in which the most radical utterances of Irish patriots were received with prolonged cheers. I trust the day is not far off when the beautiful Emerald Isle will unfurl her banner before the nations of the earth， enthroned as the Queen Republic of those northern seas！
We visited Wordsworth's home at Grasmere， among the beautiful lakes， but he was not there. However， we saw his surroundings杢he landscape that inspired some of his poetic dreams， and the dense rows of hollyhocks of every shade and color， leading from his porch to the gate. The gardener told us this was his favorite flower. Though it had no special beauty in itself， taken alone， yet the wonderful combination of royal colors was indeed striking and beautiful. We saw Harriet Martineau at her country home as well as at her house in town. As we were obliged to converse with her through an ear trumpet， we left her to do most of the talking. She gave us many amusing experiences of her travels in America， and her comments on the London Convention were rich and racy. She was not an attractive woman in either manner or appearance， though considered great and good by all who knew her.
We spent a few days with Thomas Clarkson， in Ipswich. He lived in a very old house with long rambling corridors， surrounded by a moat， which we crossed by means of a drawbridge. He had just written an article against the colonization scheme， which his wife read aloud to us. He was so absorbed in the subject that he forgot the article was written by himself， and kept up a running applause with "hear！" "hear！" the English mode of expressing approbation. He told us of the severe struggles he and Wilberforce had gone through in rousing the public sentiment of England to the demand for emancipation in Jamaica. But their trials were mild， compared with what Garrison and his coadjutors had suffered in America.
Having read of all these people， it was difficult to realize， as I visited them in their own homes from day to day， that they were the same persons I had so long worshiped from afar！
