We have been singularly favored in weather, a most important element in the pleasure of these country visits. Today, Mr Foster was obliged to go to Bradford on business. The commercial panic consequent upon the termination of the cotton speculation is great enough to cause uneasiness among all those engaged in manufacturing. Although he has greatly prospered during the three years, and is in no personal danger, he naturally watches the market with care. Mrs Forster invited us to drive to Bolton Abbey. I had visited it when here before, but was very glad to go again. The only difference that I noted was the low stage of the water in the river, which was shown by the stepping stones across, now several inches above the surface, but at that time, so much under as to under crossing inadvisable. We drove along the bank of the river to the stride, the scene of Wadsworth’s poem, and then returned. I examined the ruin with more care this time. It is very fine. Were it not that the nave had been turned into a parish church, it would be as striking as almost any I have scene The great eastern windows is very remarkable, as well as the front door. The high addition erected in front, which obscures it, can scarcely be explained. It is certainly no improved. Mrs Forster called at the parsonage to see the Clergyman, Mr Robinson, and ask him to dinner. He was kind enough to show us the interior131 of the Church which was bare enough, and also the principal rooms of the Lodge belonging to the Duke of Devonshire, which he comes to inhabit for a few weeks of the year. They consist of a cheerless hall used as a billiard room, as well as for dining, and a rather pleasant reception room filled with old family pictures of the Canndishes and Cliffords. Certainly this is not like Chatsworth, or Devonshire House, or any of the other places to which he may resort if he pleases, yet perhaps there may be a relish in its simplicity, and repose in the midst of scenery prior than elsewhere, which would compensate for all other deficiencies. We got home soon after five o’clcock. We met at dinner Mr Robinson, and two gentlemen from Bradford, Messr Mitchell and Seymore, besides Mr Baines, the son of the member, who came over from Leeds. They seemed very intelligent, and all highly friendly to America. Mr Baines is the chief writer for the Leeds Mercury, which his father has long conducted. Mr Mitchell, who is a merchant of extensive connections told me that the whole trade with the United States is at a stand. No orders came out whatever, and what may remains due from there is in such rapid process of liquidation that there will be nothing left by the end of the year. A very curious sign of the times. Mr Baines remained over night.