306 LIFE OF BENJAMIN SILLDIAN. 



cliffs of Kinsale. In my last trip to Liverpool, in March 

 1851, we steamed with a smooth sea so near these cliffs 

 that they were very distinctly visible within two miles, and 

 our captain pointed out the very place where the Albion 

 perished, and with her, poor Fisher and his companions. 



Having returned home, Mr. Silliman, soon made 

 a second journey with Mr. Wadsworth, southward 

 as far as Philadelphia, and back as far northward 

 as the Catskill Mountains. 



We remained two days in New York, stopping at the 

 City Hotel, where the house was not quiet until past mid- 

 night, and the city, with milkmen, sweeps, and moving car- 

 riages, was astir again between three and four o'clock, A. M. 

 Of course, there was little time for repose, and I felt little 

 spirit for the interviews of the day. My good Quaker friend, 

 John Griscom, a brother chemist and lecturer, dined with 

 me quietly at the hotel, and his mild and soothing manners 

 and modest good sense formed a pleasant relief from a 

 rather stormy interview with an English travelling geologist, 

 whose arrogant assumption of superiority over American 

 geologists provoked me to a rather sharp rejoinder and 

 reproof, and somewhat agitated my nerves which were 

 prone, in my enfeebled state of health, to vibrate painfully, 

 when roughly touched. This gentleman, however, profited 

 by my rebuke, for he became very much my friend, visited 

 me at New Haven and communicated several valuable 

 papers to the " American Journal of Science." His name 

 was John Finch ; he remained several years in this country, 

 returned to England, and is, I believe, deceased. 



Mr. Silliman reverts to Mr. Andrews, and to the 

 valuable aid derived from him. 



We acquired the habit, on my part, of dictating, and on 



