the auditor,
he proved conclusively from the vouchers (which I was careful to
preserve) that the Confederate Government owed me L1,000; but I never
applied for the "little balance" and now it is buried with the "lost
cause."

The Hon. J. M. Mason, representing the Confederate Government, was
living very quietly and unostentatiously in London; and although not
officially recognized, he was the frequent guest of the nobility and
gentry of the kingdom. He looked, so I thought, the equal of any peer in
the land, for he was of a noble presence; and he possessed that rare
tact of adapting himself to almost any company in which he might be
thrown. We always met with a cordial welcome from him; and it was very
interesting to hear his comments upon the government and the social life
of England. I am sure the contrast between the conservatism, stability
and respect for precedents and laws, so manifest everywhere in that
favored land, and the rapidly growing disregard of all these obligations
in our own country, struck him most forcibly. He closed a long eulogy of
England upon one occasion by remarking, "This is the best Government
upon the earth--_except of course our own_." He, in common with others,
who had access to private sources of information, believed, at that
time, that the Confederacy would soon be recognized by England and
France; and it appears from evidence made public since the close of the
war, that their hopes were by no means groundless; the Emperor of the
French having proposed joint recognition to the British government; but
all efforts in that direction were thwarted by the "Exeter Hall"
influence.

We saw of course many of the sights and curiosities of London. One
pleasant day of leisure, after a walk to see that magnificent pile, the
Houses of Parliament, I was sauntering along, without thought of where I
was going, until I found myself in a perfect labyrinth of filthy streets
and tumble down buildings and presenting all the other evidences of vice
and poverty; the very neighborhood in short of "Tom Allalone's" lair.
Fortunately I met a policeman who guided me into a respectable part of
the city. He told me that I was about to invade the worst section of
London, almost within a stone's throw of the Houses of Parliament.

It is astonishing how frequently Dickens' characters and descriptions
come into the memory of a stranger visiting London. No one, who has
ever seen them, will forget the houses in Chancer