armers' friends united, who are more numerous, more wealthy,
not wanting in intelligence in their own pursuits, but quite without cohesion
or combination.

* * * * *

LIVERPOOL TO MANCHESTER.--There are two ways from Liverpool to Manchester, one
by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, through Bolton, which has a station
behind the Exchange, and one by the old route, through Newton. The line by
the new one has Bolton upon its course, and renders the Aintree Racecourse
half as near Manchester as Liverpool.

For choice take a Tuesday or Saturday, and travel up by the early Cotton
Brokers' Express to Manchester, so as to see one more phase of the English
commercial character. The Brokers are a jovial set and hospitable, as keen
as Yankees and as industrious. There is a marked difference between them and
the Spinners, but they are of no particular country. Liverpool, like
Manchester, although not to the same degree, is colonised by strangers. Both
Irishmen and Scotchmen are to be found among the most respectable and
successful, and a considerable number of Americans are settled there as
merchants and shipping agents; indeed it is half American in its character.

In this year of 1851, to describe the Liverpool and Manchester Railway would
be absurd; acres of print, in all civilized languages, and yards of picture-
illustration, have been devoted to it. At Newton Station you see below you a
race-course of great antiquity, and what was once a huge hotel, built to
supply a room large enough for the Mother Partingtons of Lancashire to meet
and prepare their mops for sweeping back the Atlantic tide of public opinion.
There they met, and dined and drank and shouted, and unanimously agreed that
it was foolish legislation which transferred the right of representation from
the village of Newton to the great city of Manchester; after which they went
home, and wisely submitted to the summons which found its speaking-trumpets
at Manchester. Fortunately for this country, a minority knows how to submit
to a majority, and the Conservative Hall, by a sort of accidental satire on
its original uses, has been turned into a printing office.

A little farther on is Chat-Moss, a quaking bog, which the opponents of the
first railway proved, to the satisfaction of many intelligent persons, to be
an impassable obstacle to the construction of any solid road. We fly across
it now reading or writing, scarcely taking the trouble to look out of