Cloudy with rain. Busy writing letters to my sons which consumed pretty much all the available day-light. No interruption but a visit from Mr Sanford who is on one of his flying trips of suspension, I suppose. Towards dark I went out to call upon Mr Morse, the Consul, who has been ill, confined to his house for some days. He promised me a paper which I need to make up a representation to the British government, but he has not yet been able to prepare it. We talked over the extensive operations making here to aid the confederates, and he showed me a copy of a letter designating the line of a trade to be carried on through Matamoras, in which one hundred per cent of profits was guaranteed by the rebel authorities to all goods imported, to be paid for in cotton at 7½ cents a pound. This explains at once the terrible necessities of the rebels and the strong efforts here to aid them. We dined early, in order to go to hear Christy’s minstrel at St James’s Hall. I had been asked to attend the benefit of the manager, and was glad to seize the occasion to buy some tickets by way of paying for the civility extended to me during the last year. The hall was quite filled. The music was good, though not equal to what I have heard heretofore in America—and there was much more of other and less refined matter, such as dancing and caricature. The success of this kind of exhibition for so long a period as it has been kept up both in Europe and America is remarkable. I learn that this company has been almost to the confines of China within the last year. Mrs & Miss Sampson and Mr Moran were with us.248