now differs with the mild liberalism of Huskisson?

A Workhouse on a very extensive scale, capable of affording indoor relief to
1800; a Blind Asylum, celebrated for the singing of the inmates, two
Infirmaries, are far from completing the list of public institutions of a
town with nearly 400,000 inhabitants; but, in the greater number, resemble
all other institutions of the same kind, and, for the rest, a local guide may
be consulted.

The best part of the town may be seen in a walk from St. Lukes' Church at the
top of Bold Street, a short distance from the Adelphi Hotel, through Church
Street, Lord Street, crossing Castle Street, down to St. George's Pier. By
this line the best and the busiest streets of Liverpool will be seen, with
shops nearly equal to the finest in London, and with customers in fine
ladies, who are quite as pretty, and much more finely dressed, than the
residents of that paradise of provincial belles, Belgravia. Indeed both
sexes in this town are remarkable for their good looks and fashionable
costume, forming a strong contrast to the more busy inhabitants of
Manchester.

In Bold Street is the Palatine, a miniature copy of the Clubs of Pall Mall:
at the doors and windows may be seen, in the intervals of business, a number
of young gentlemen trying very hard to look as if they had nothing to do but
dress fine and amuse themselves. But so far from being the idle fellows they
would be thought, the majority are hardworking merchants and pains-taking
attornies, who bet a little, play a little, dote upon a lord, and fancy that
by being excessively supercilious in the rococo style of that poor heathen
bankrupt Brummel, they are performing to perfection the character of men of
fashion. This, the normal state of young Liverpool, at a certain period the
butterfly becomes a grub, a money grub, and abandoning brilliant cravats,
primrose gloves, and tight shiny boots, subsides into the respectable heavy
father of genteel comedy, becomes a churchwarden, a patron of charities, a
capitalist, and a highly respectable member of society. The Manchester man
is abrupt, because his whole soul is in the money-making business of the day;
the Liverpool gentleman's icy manners are part of his costume. The "cordial
dodge," which has superseded Brummel's listless style in the really
fashionable world, not having yet found its way down by the express train to
the great mart of cotton-wool.

'Change hours, which are twi