I admired the lake very much, and the canter we took in the park was delightful.
29th.—Visited Mr. Waljambe's museum of British birds; it is most excellent; and I was charmed with the silver firs in the grounds at Osburton,—they are most beautiful and magnificent trees.
Feb. 3rd.—The following speech made by a gentleman at tiffin amused me:—"Lord Brougham says, 'Mankind are divided into two classes, those who have seen my house in Italy, and those who have not:'—now, I divide mankind into those who have seen my Moonāl pheasants, and those who have not. Lady William Bentinck gave them to me, and they are the most beautiful birds I ever saw."
11th.—A steamer ran against a merchant vessel that was at anchor in the river; down she went headlong, all her crew with her, down in a moment. At low tide four barges were brought and fixed to her with strong chains and cables. She was then left until the tide rose, at which time the pressure on the ropes increased. Hundreds of people assembled to see her drawn up—the tide rose higher and higher—the struggle was great—"Now mud,"—"Now barges," was the cry: the mud held her tenaciously, the barges pulled more and more—the anxiety was great: at last, like a cork drawn from a bottle, she rose from the suction, came up to the surface, and was immediately taken to the shore: some of her crew, who were asleep when she went down, were found dead in their beds.
1841, April 20th.—At the little chapel of Pennycross in Devon, my beloved father was buried. It is situated on a hill covered with fine trees, and commands a beautiful view,—just such a quiet, holy, retired spot as one would select for a last resting place. I could not summon courage to go there before, but now I feel an anxiety to revisit it again and again.
May 1st.—Revisited the chapel of Pennycross, and took a drawing of the tomb of my father.
12th.—Went on board the "Wilberforce" steamer, which is going with the "Albert" and "Santon" on the Niger expe-
