fellow-traveller F

is a splendid sailor, never has a qualm, likes it rough, and has a revolting appetite all the time.

Our talk is monotonous, chiefly of tumbles; but we have some pleasant people on board. The As to whom Mr. F introduced us at starting, whom we hope to see again about Christmas time at Baltimore; and P— also of Baltimore, who is for the present my model young American;

who boasts that he has never cost the old man' a cent since he was eighteen years of age, and at twenty-one was the head of a Firm, selling pottedmeats to the War Department at a profit of twenty per cent. He has now arrived at twenty-four years of age; has married a wife, and has gotten a baby; and is at present returning from a visit to Paris.

About a quarter of our fellow-passengers are the Travellers for American houses in the dry goods and similar lines of business, who come to Europe twice a-year to purchase for the spring and fall sales. These men all know one another, they mess together in cliques and sets, and have salads and condiments in common, jokes known only to the initiated, and all the other virtues and vices common to large family parties. They are great at stories and songs in the Fiddler (as the uncomfortable smoking-room is called). Also, to a man, burning patriots and Northerners; and the vigour with

which we chant John Brown's Body' and 'The Star-spangled Banner' increases each night as we draw nearer to the States. We have some Southerners also, who do not join in the choruses.

It seems to me worthy of note that these men, who cross the Atlantic twice a-year, and run their eyes over the European markets, are the men who will be the next generation of New York merchants; now America has few manufactures for us to buy, and therefore there is no corresponding class of English agents visiting the States; so that as regards all knowledge respecting openings for trade and questions of supply and demand for American markets, the New York buyer is much better posted up than the Liverpool or Manchester seller. We talk a great deal about Yankee shrewdness in trade; but do we take the trouble to put ourselves on a par with them in information? We sit at home at ease, and wait until they come and buy of us.

I think we shall not stop long at New York-some five or six days; then to Philadelphia; and thence to Baltimore, to spend Christmas Day with the As; and so on to Washington, where Congress will by that time have met, and be warming to their work. I hope to go South before very long, so as to be in the warmer climate at the coldest season; to come back up the Mississippi, instead of going down it; to get to Canada by way of St. Louis and

Chicago by the time the worst of its Winter is overpast; and so return again to New York. I must break off now for a meal. Imagine breakfast at halfpast eight, lunch at twelve o'clock, dinner at four, tea at seven, and supper at nine.

Dec. 13, '66, Thursday.

Safe arrived last night, after spending twelve days of my life at sea. I say last night, as it took us so long to land and get through the custom-house, that it was dark before we reached the Fifth Avenue Hotel. But it was bright daylight and sunshine as we steamed up the splendid harbour of New York; a view which I should have been very sorry to have missed. As far as our personal experiences go, the custom-house officers of New York are not half so troublesome as they are said to be. We had nothing to smuggle, but there was a vast amount of smuggling done by some of our fellow-passengers. One man landed with his pockets full of French watches, and another with a splendid Cashmere shawl round his neck. The custom-house officer, searching the next luggage to mine, unearthed two boxes of cigars; of course these were contraband. He spake as follows, Which are the best?' Opens box. 'Have you a light ?—I forgot; we must not smoke here. Well, I will take a few to smoke after my supper.' Takes twenty cigars, and passes the rest.

Broadway.

Dec. 14, '66, Friday.

7

I have been on my feet all day, delivering letters of introduction. These are plants that require to be put in early, or they are apt to flower after the sower has quitted the country. I went to-day into Messrs. Appleton's store. The stores of the Broadway are the most wonderful glorified shops ever seen. Something between a Manchester warehouse and a London clubhouse. Everybody is talking so much of the rush there will be to the Exhibition in Paris, that we have actually been this day to the Cunard Office, and secured passages back to England, to sail from New York on March 20th; some ten days after which, au revoir.

I have spent all my day in going to and fro in Broadway, the wonderful street of New York; in ten years' time the finest street in the world. At present, there are still so many small old houses standing in line with the enormous stores, that the effect is somewhat spoilt, by reason of the ranks not being well dressed. Broadway is now much in the condition of a child's mouth when cutting its second set of teeth; slightly gappy. The enormous stores look even larger now than they will do when the intervals are filled up. The external splendour of the shops is chiefly architectural; they make no great display of goods in the windows; but the large

size of the rooms within enables them to set out and exhibit many times the amount of goods that an English shopkeeper shows.

The city of New York is on the southern point of Manhattan island, having the East River running along one side, and the North River or Hudson along the other. Some day far in the future, when the present municipality is purged or swept away, and the splendour of the Thames Embankment scheme has been realised, New York will probably have two lines of quays, planted with trees and edged with warehouses, which will make it one of the finest cities in the world. The business quarter is at the point of the peninsula. The fashionable quarter is to the North, reaching every year farther inland. As the city increases, the stores keep moving Northwards, taking possession of the houses, and driving the residents farther back. The land is not yet built over up to Central Park, said to be so called because it will be the future centre of the city that is to be. The concentrated crowd, that passes along Broadway in the morning down Town' to its business, and back in the evening up Town' to its homes, is enormous; but the pavements are bad for men and abominable for horses; to-day I saw five horses down and two lying dead. At the same time, allowance must be made for the fact that it has been snowing and thawing and freezing again; but