I strolled to the Zoological Gardens, a very pretty little place, where a few acres of uneven surface have been ornamented with plantations of flowering shrubs, many of which are now in full bloom, artificial ponds of water, rocks, and bridges, and picturesque buildings for the animals.  Winding roads are made through the green turf, which is now sprinkled with daisies.  It seems to be a favorite place of resort for the people of the town.  They were amused by the tricks of an elephant, the performances of a band of music, which among other airs sang and played “Jim along Josey,” and the feats of a young fellow who gave an illustration of the centrifugal force by descending a Montagne Russe in a little car, which by the help of a spiral curve in the railway, was made to turn a somerset in the middle of its passage, and brought him out at the end with his cap off, and his hair on end.

One of the most remarkable places in Liverpool, is St. James’s Cemetery.  In the midst of the populous and bustling city, is a chasm among the black rocks, with a narrow green level at the bottom.  It is overlooked by a little chapel.  You enter it by an arched passage cut through the living rock, which brings you by a steep descent to the narrow level of which I have spoken, where you find yourself among graves set with flowers and half concealed by shrubbery, while along the rocky sides of the hollow in which you stand, you see tombs or blank arches for tombs which are yet to be excavated.  We found the thickets within and around this valley of the dead, musical with innumerable birds, which build here undisturbed.  Among the monuments is one erected to Huskisson, a mausoleum with a glass door through which you see his statue from the chisel of Gibson.  On returning by the passage through the rock, we found preparations making for a funeral service in the chapel, which we entered.  Four men came staggering in under the weight of a huge coffin, accompanied by a clergyman of imposing stature, white hair, and florid complexion.  Four other coffins were soon after brought in and placed in the church, attended by another clergyman of less pre-possessing appearance, who, to my disappointment, read the service.  He did it in the most detestable manner, with much grimace, and with the addition of a supernumerary syllable after almost every word ending with a consonant.  The clerk delivered the responses in such a mumbling tone, and with so much of the Lancashire dialect, as to be almost unintelligible.  The other clergyman looked, I thought, as if, like myself, he was sorry to hear the beautiful funeral service of his church so profaned.