e crowds of vehicles,
animals and human beings that fill them on other days are absent. There
are no signs of trade anywhere except in the Bowery and Chatham street.
The city has an appearance of cleanliness and quietness pleasant to
behold. The wharves are hushed and still, and the river and bay lie calm
and bright in the light of the Sabbath sun. One misses the stages from
Broadway, and a stranger at once credits the coachmen with a greater
regard for the day than their brothers of the street cars. The fact is,
however, that Jehu of the stagecoach rests on the Sabbath because his
business would be unprofitable on that day. The people who patronize him
in the week have no use for him on Sunday. The horse-cars make their
trips as in the week. They are a necessity in so large a city. The
distances one is compelled to pass over here, even on Sunday, are too
great to be traversed on foot.

Towards ten o'clock the streets begin to fill up with churchgoers. The
cars are crowded, and handsome carriages dash by conveying their owners
to their places of worship. The uptown churches are the most
fashionable, and are the best attended, but all the sacred edifices are
well filled on Sunday morning. New York compromises with its conscience
by a scrupulous attendance upon morning worship, and reserves the rest of
the day for its own convenience. The up-town churches all strive to get
in, or as near as possible to, the Fifth avenue. One reason for this is,
doubtless, the desire that all well-to-do New Yorkers have to participate
in the after-church promenade. The churches close their services near
about the same hour, and then each pours its throng of fashionably
dressed people into the avenue. The congregations of distant churches
all find their way to the avenue, and for about an hour after church the
splendid street presents a very attractive spectacle. The toilettes of
the ladies show well here, and it is a pleasant place to meet one's
acquaintances.

The majority of New Yorkers dine at one o'clock on Sunday, the object
being to allow the servants the afternoon for themselves. After dinner
your New Yorker, male or female, thinks of enjoyment. If the weather is
fair the fashionables promenade the Fifth and Madison avenues, or drive
in the park. The working classes fill the street-cars, and throng the
Central Park. In the summer whole families of laboring people go to the
park early in the morning, taking a lun