thousand persons on excursions of business and pleasure, spouting forth fire and steam like the monstrous dragons of fable, and leaving long tracks of smoke on the blue heaven. Among other evidences of a great maritime power, reposed several giant vessels of war,-those stern, tremendous messengers of the deep, formed to waft, on the wings of heaven, the thunderbolt of death across the solemn world of waters; but now lying, like fortresses, motionless on the tide, and ready to bear over the globe the friendly pledges or the grave demands of a nation which, in the recollection of some of its surviving citizens, was a submissive colony, without power and without a name. You might deem the magnificent city, thus extended upon the flood, Venice, when that wonderful republic held the commerce of the world. In a greater degree, indeed, than London, notwithstanding the superior amount of shipping possessed by the latter, New-York at first strikes the stranger entering into its harbour with signs of commercial prosperity and wealth. In the mighty British metropolis, the vessels lie locked in dockyards, or half buried under fog and smoke. The narrow Thames presents little more than that portion actually in motion; and, in a sail from Margate to town, the vast number are seen only in succession; but here, the whole crowded, broad, and moving panorama breaks at once upon the eye; and through a perfectly pure and bright atmosphere, nothing can be more striking and exquisite.

It was a frosty winter morning, and the general splendour of the scene was heightened by the fact that, for some days previous, a heavy fall of snow had come down silently and thickly from heaven, without wind and without rain. The whole picture was now glittering with tracts of stainless white.

The roofs were hidden beneath fleecy masses. The trees were cased with brilliant lustre, and held out their naked branches sparkling in the sun. The shores, sloping down to the water's edge, leaned brightly to the beams of morning. Even the waves themselves bore on their bosoms, urged gently along, and dashed ever and anon against each other, thick cakes of snow-covered ice, which had drifted down from the rivers, but yet not in sufficient quantities to interrupt the navigation. The roar and thunder of the town could be heard from the bay, as the hundreds of thousands of her citizens awoke to their accustomed occupations. The shouts of artisans and tradesmen, the clink of hammers from the thronged and busy wharves and shipyards, the inspiring "heave-yoes" with which the brawny tars cheered their labours amid the mass of shipping (itself a city), the clanging of hoofs, the shuffling of feet, the ringing of bells, the clash of voices, and all the medley of sounds peculiar to the newly-awakened concourse of a vast and growing population, rose cheerfully on the air. Wherever the eye wandered, it met only scenes of bustle, haste, gayety, and earnest occupation.`

But if the exterior of the city presented so lively a picture, the interior was yet more inspiriting. Broadway, the principal street, was now the centre of one of those gay and giddy scenes known only to the inhabitants of cold countries, and which to many offer greater attractions than the odoriferous vales and plains of Italy or Asia. True, those romantic climes where the human race enjoy a temperature so mild and pleasant as to permit of their almost dwelling in the open air even in the coldest season, have, in their softer charms, something unspeakably sweet and alluring. Those evergreen valleys, those luxuriant hills, those rich

slopes, clothed with the most gorgeous fruits and the tenderest and deepest verdure, and, more than all, those gentle and transparent skies, seem beneficently designed for man in his more uncivilized state, or for the poor. It must be delightful for the penniless, the aged, and the houseless, unable to procure clothing or fuel, to find the dawn ever diffusing a genial and balmy warmth over nature. The tenant of the rude and scantily furnished hut flings open his window and admits the fragrant sweets. Mere day is to them a gift and a blessing; the sun is their cloak and their fire. Those old Italian landscapes, with the warm yellow light gleaming deliciously in through an open casement, are finely characteristic. But are we not apt to magnify the advantages of this universal and perpetual blandness of heaven? True, the half-clad fisherman flings himself carelessly down, and sleeps upon the beach; the beggar lies stretched against a sunny wall, drying the night-dews from his tattered garments, and partaking in peace the slumbers which he could not enjoy beneath the less benignant influence of the stars; the wrinkled and time-stricken dames, "the spinsters and the knitters in the sun," bring their work in front of their cottages, and, to see them, the pilgrim from a northern clime fancies them happy as the children of Eden. But I doubt whether the vigorous and enlivening joys of winter are not more conducive to health and happiness. An Italian vale, breathing its sweetest odours, and sparkling under its pleasantest sunshine, is but a dull picture compared with Broadway on the bright morning after a heavy fall of snow. No scene can be more full of life and action. Every thing appears in a whirl of delight. A spirit of joy and impulse hangs in the air, pervades all the city, and pours its fires through the

4

veins of every living creature. The exhilarating atmosphere braces the limbs, quickens the step, flushes the cheek, fills the eye with lustre, puts aside care, thought, and dulness, and produces a high state of animal enjoyment. Those old snowstorms * have unfortunately of later years made their merry visits less frequently. The fleecy world now descends in smaller quantities, and disappears in a shorter period. I can fancy the rising generation smiling when we, of the old school, lament the forms and fashions of the last century. The young rogues, peradventure, may be amused by wondering what value we can attach to a powdered queue or a plaited wristband; but, by this hand! when the elements themselves alter and remould their usages-when seasons roll in different shapes, when honest old Winter, instead of striding forward, as was his wont, wrapped in cloak and fur, his cheek glowing with the cold, and the sparry icicle glittering around his cap and beard, steals forward with only a fashionable mantle and an umbrellaHeaven save the mark! we may well lament. I cannot write calmly of those glorious old snow

storms.

One of them had now descended upon NewYork, and the inhabitants, as the day advanced, seemed conscious of no other earthly object than the enjoyment of sleighing. Countless throngs of the wealthiest and most fashionable were gathered into that broad and beautiful street, which extends three or four miles in a line straight as an arrow, its long vista of elegant houses remarkable for their uniform aspect of affluence and comfort, and presenting, in their extreme neatness, and, particularly, in the beauty of their entrances, a striking contrast to the street views of Paris, with only two exceptions, and to those of other continental cities without any.

Its world of lovely women were abroad. Such rosy cheeks, such melting eyes, as passed up and down that dazzling day! Hundreds of sleighs, drawn sometimes by one horse and sometimes by four, darted by each other with the swiftness of a bird's sweep; the princely horses, fired with the air and the scene, neighing, tossing their heads, champing their bits, and leaping on their way, mad as Bucephalus, every mother's son of them-the bells around their necks ringing out a music as merry and soul-stirring as the blast of a trumpet. An amusement so heartily entered into by the wealthy classes soon assumes an artificial hue of taste. The choice of horses became a matter of the utmost ambition, and the sleighs were wrought into every form devisable by an elegant or a fantastic fancy. Now swept by a painted boat, and now a classic chariot: here darted a pearly shell, fit to bear Venus over the waves; and there, an ocean car, from which father Neptune might have appropriately guided the dolphins and winged horses of the sea. Nowhere are there more lovely women than in those American cities. They contribute largely to the fascination of this exciting sport; and neither at the ball, nor the theatre, nor the midnight revel, do they appear more beautiful than here. Their graceful and glowing faces float by with a rapidity which prevents all criticism, if not all comparison. The gaze is bewildered with an endless succession of lovely lips and radiant smiles, and eyes which the young and sensitive of the other sex, with the fidelity characteristic of ardour and youth, might remember for ever, but that each succeeding glance heals the wound received from the last. In the midst of this gay and noisy scene, the pedestrians along the spacious sidewalks found their interest so much excited by