colony was extending its trade, encouraging the arts and sciences, and cultivating its lands. Great Britain was at peace with the world. New York was in its happiest state; all discord had ceased, parties were forgotten and animosities forgiven. We had no foreign or domestic enemy." But we know that those fair skies were presently overcast, and that England and France were soon fighting again on our soil, more determined than ever each to conquer the other. Not until 1763 did they agree upon final terms of peace. Then came the Stamp Act and its riotous and disastrous consequences. Immediately after the repeal of the Stamp Act in 1766, New York began to hold up her head in self-gratulation, and took her first real holiday in domestic tranquillity. It was then that money commenced to flow in all sorts of channels, and riches, long hoarded, came into prominent view. Houses were built with the rapidity of magic, so to speak, industries bristled with new life, merchants patched extensions upon their warehouses or built new ones, everything old was mended, and fresh paint took a mad race through the length and breadth of the town. Improvements of a public character were projected—in no instance lacking for funds; and in less than two years four expensive churches were erected and as many as three others extensively enlarged. By this time colonial New York was really in her brightest blaze of glory, and the three or four years following 1766 may well be designated the" Golden Age." For the grouping in the present picture I have chosen the year 1768.

As we enter the New York of that date, let us pause a moment on the threshold for a preliminary view. We seem to have come to an odd-looking, overgrown village. The principal street, Broadway, has been opened only to Reade street-beyond which are gardens and green fields—but it is beautified with rows of luxuriant shade-trees on each side through its entire length, and it is kept scrupulously clean. The other streets are short and irregular, although not so crooked as the streets of Boston. There is one street however which has a very remarkable bend, about which we hear romantic stories. It was laid out, they say, by the city cows. In passing back and forth to their pastures they avoided eminences and other obstructions like sensible cows, by going round them. The earliest road that was projected in that direction followed the cow-path. The street is only that old road exaggerated. We find the town full of reminiscence, for the New York of 1768 is already over a hundred and fifty years old. When we ask why there is such a curious display of big and little buildings—such a jumble of churches, fashionable dwellings, markets, blacksmith shops, stores, taverns, and great warehouses-a negro butler of

ready information replies: "Dat am 'cause it were built wid so many languages: da got all mixed up, an' couldn't 'spress de distances in up an' down to be understandable to each oder."

As we look closer the prospect becomes more distinct. The houses do not all stand with the gable end to the street, as some historians would have us believe. There are several antique mansions of costly character, the building materials for which were imported, and there are numerous later homes modeled from the best domestic architecture of Europe. On the western side of Broadway is the city hotel, an immense structure, formerly the dwelling-house of the De Lancey family, which has a spacious hall where dancing assemblies, concerts, and famous banquets are given, and which commands from its rear windows and balconies one of the finest views known of the Hudson river. Trinity church is just below, separated from the sidewalk by a painted picket-fence, and presenting a quaint semicircular chancel to the street. From its rear rises a famous steeple one hundred and fifty feet high. Wall street, in front of Trinity church, connects Broadway with the East river, the first object of note seen in it being the stately stone-steepled Presbyterian church bronzed with the smoke of half a century, effectively guarding a little grave-yard between its entrance and the sidewalk. Below Trinity, in Broadway, is a small structure that but for a queer belfry would never pass for a house of worship to stranger eyes. Yet it is the Lutheran church, almost three-score and ten years old. Back of it is the English school established by Trinity, and opposite is the school-house of W. Elphinstone, one of the most accomplished teachers in the city.

From here to the Bowling Green (on the west side) Broadway is lined with a superior class of private dwellings. Some of these have stately aspect, as for instance the two built together with one front belonging to the Van Cortlandts of Kingsbridge, illustrated in a former article in this magazine; that of John Stevens next below, whose wife is the sister of Lord Stirling; and the home of Judge Robert R. Livingston of the supreme court, whose brilliant sons and daughters (the older ones are already leaders in society) form a merry and interesting household; his son Robert R., the future chancellor, is now twenty-two years of age and is paying court to the lovely daughter of his next-door neighbor, John Stevens. The Watts and the Kennedy mansions, standing side by side, are as effective in style as any houses of the period on this continent. The parlors of the latter are fifty feet long, opening upon a rear piazza large enough for a cotillion party, and the dining-room is gorgeously magnificent in its appointments. The grounds of all these Broadway houses extend

to the river's edge, and are cultivated in terraces and filled with fruits and flowers. The household servants are chiefly negro slaves, and the manner of living is in strict accord with the aristocratic notions of the age.

The eastern side of Broadway is occupied with a variety of small houses and stores-but looking north from the Bowling Green we see little else save the grand old shade-trees leaning toward each other from both sides of the way almost forming an arch overhead, crowned by the steeples of Trinity and the Wall-street church.

Fort George at the Bowling Green is a special attraction silently assuring us that it can mount sixty cannon on short notice for the defense of the harbor. It contains what foreigners call "the palace of the governor." Sir Henry Moore now resides here, and maintains the same forms in his domestic arrangements that are customary among the men of his class in England. His table is supplied constantly with the choicest dishes, which are served with as much ceremony as under any nobleman's roof. The office of the secretary of the province is near the gate of the fort, and in front of the Bowling Green, on the east, is the residence of Sir Edward Pickering, baronet.

Whitehall street contains numerous dwellings of the better class; this quarter is considered the court end of the town. The home of Hon. David Clarkson is upward of twenty-five years old, and is called by the newspapers" an ornament to the city!" Its works of art, extensive library, costly china, and silver plate are choice importations from Europe. The fine homes in Dock street, the southern part of Queen (later Pearl) street, are quite pretentious in appearance, with deep balconies overlooking the bay. Hugh Wallace, one of the counselors of the governor, lives here, and no one gives better dinners or more popular entertainments. He and his brother Alexander married sisters of Isaac Low, whose house is also here, and the families are on terms of great intimacy. John Adams describes Isaac Low as "a gentleman of fortune, and in trade, whose wife is a beauty." At the corner of Dock and Broad streets is the old Fraunces tavern, now kept by Bolton & Sigell, under the sign of the Queen's Head," who announce that "gentlemen may depend on receiving the best of usage. Dinners and public entertainments provided at the shortest notice. Breakfasts in readiness from 9 to 11 o'clock. Jellies in the greatest perfection, also rich and plain cake sold by the weight."

Broad street is extremely pleasant, its shade almost as refreshing as that of Broadway, and the most of its houses are large and roomy. The ancient town-house of Robert, third proprietor of Livingston manor, is here. His brother Peter Van Brugh Livingston lives in Princess street,

close by; his brother Philip Livingston, whom you do not yet know as the "signer," since there has been nothing remarkable to sign, lives in Duke street, and his daughter, the wife of the young patroon, Stephen Van Rensselaer, is visiting him; another brother, John Livingston, who has married a De Peyster, lives handsomely in Pearl street, and still another brother, William Livingston, a leading lawyer and politician, lives in Pine street. Lord Stirling's home is a great, hospitable-looking mansion in Broad street, alongside the residence of General Gage, commander-in-chief of the army. The wife of Lord Stirling is the sister of these numerous Livingston brothers, and Peter Van Brugh Livingston's wife is Lord Stirling's sister. Robert Cambridge Livingston, whose middle name is adopted as a distinction from having graduated at Cambridge University, England, lives in Dock street, among the grandees; his next-door neighbor is Robert Gilbert Livingston, grandson of Gilbert, second son of the founder of Livingston manor, whose sister Catharine is the wife of John Reade, for whom Reade street is named.

The house of Augustus Van Horne fronts Princess street. The Lawrences and the Ludlows are his neighbors. There are plenty of little stores and workshops everywhere, and the Garden-street church, just out of Broad street, in Garden alley, seems to be trying to look them severely out of countenance for their temerity. When this church was built, seventy-five years ago, it was in the middle of a beautiful garden, laid out with bordered walks and fragrant with many flowers. It is oblong in shape, and on the panes of glass in its windows are the coats of arms of the principal families who have from time to time worshiped within its walls. The tower is so large that the consistory meets in it. Business has crept very near it now, and "cross-cut saws, door locks, Dutch teakettles, brass scales, chamber bellowses, and beer mugs," hang out as signs, totally devoid of reverence.

Hanover square is the principal business centre. Many good families occupy rooms over the stores. On the corner of Sloat lane, in Hanover square, is the very handsome home of Gerard W. Beekman. His brother, James Beekman, has recently built the fine country mansion on the East river, four miles from town. The sister of these Beekmans is the wife of William Walton, who built in 1752 the princely dwelling in Franklin square, at the end of the Queen street road. It is English in design and its walls as substantial as those of modern churches, while its gardens extend to the East river. The lower part of Queen street (before we reach that portion called Dock street) is dotted with elegant-looking mansions and shaded with fine trees. This street was built up much earlier than Broad

the mayor, Whitehead Hicks, who has married the only daughter of John Brevoort, the great square house of Elias Desbrosses, and the unique dwelling with a peaked roof of one of the Van Zandts.

Wall street is just beginning to be considered the choicest place for private residences, and property has taken a bound upward in value. The Marstons have built a large double brick house there, the Van Horns are outdoing them in architectural display, and Charles McEvers lives in a gorgeous new mansion corner of William street-his wife is a Verplanck,