July 12th.—­The Sultan and I arrived in London almost at the same time, but in different quarters—­my point of entry being Paddington, and his Charing Cross.  I must admit that the crowd was greatest at the latter place.

Mr. Dodgson and Dr. Liddon met at Dover, and passed the night at one of the hotels there:—­

July 13th.—­We breakfasted, as agreed, at eight, or at least we then sat down and nibbled bread and butter till such time as the chops should be done, which great event took place about half past.  We tried pathetic appeals to the wandering waiters, who told us, “They are coming, sir,” in a soothing tone, and we tried stern remonstrance, and they then said, “They are coming, sir,” in a more injured tone; and after all such appeals they retired into their dens, and hid themselves behind side-boards and dish-covers, and still the chops came not.  We agreed that of all virtues a waiter can display, that of a retiring disposition is quite the least desirable....

The pen refuses to describe the sufferings of some of the passengers during our smooth trip of ninety minutes:  my own sensations were those of extreme surprise, and a little indignation, at there being no other sensations—­it was not for that I paid my money....

We landed at Calais in the usual swarm of friendly natives, offering services and advice of all kinds; to all such remarks I returned one simple answer, Non! It was probably not strictly applicable in all cases, but it answered the purpose of getting rid of them; one by one they left me, echoing the Non! in various tones, but all expressive of disgust.

At Cologne began that feast of beautiful things which his artistic temperament fitted him so well to enjoy.  Though the churches he visited and the ceremonies he witnessed belonged to a religious system widely different from his own, the largeness and generosity of his mind always led him to insist upon that substratum of true devotion—­to use a favourite word of his—­which underlies all forms of Christianity.

We spent an hour in the cathedral, which I will not attempt to describe further than by saying it was the most beautiful of all churches I have ever seen or can imagine.  If one could imagine the spirit of devotion embodied in any material form, it would be in such a building.

In spite of all the wealth of words that has been expended upon German art, he found something new to say on this most fertile subject:—­

The amount of art lavished on the whole region of Potsdam is marvellous; some of the tops of the palaces were like forests of statues, and they were all over the gardens, set on pedestals.  In fact, the two principles of Berlin architecture appear to me to be these.  On the house-tops, wherever there is a convenient place, put up the figure of a man; he is best placed standing on