politely to papa.... He shaves himself, plays billiards (and well, too), cards, and dominoes, cuts up his meat and feeds himself, etc.
October 1. By accident went to the same hotel [in Bruges] to which I went twenty-four years ago, a bride.
I recognized a staircase with a balustrade of swans each holding a stiff bulrush in its mouth.... Made a little verse thereupon.
From Belgium the way led to London; thence, after a brief and delightful visit to the Bracebridges at Atherstone, to Liverpool, where the China awaited her passengers.
The voyage was long and stormy, thirteen days: the Journal speaks chiefly of its discomforts; but on the second Sunday we read: X. preached a horrible sermon — stood up and mocked at philosophy in good English and bad Christianity.
He failed alike of satire and of sense, and talked like a small Pharisee of two thousand years ago. Not much like the Sermon on the Mount, quoth I; not theology enough to stand examination at Andover.
Bluejackets in a