enerally in white muslin, with
artificial flowers and pink shoes. Mr. Fearon saw very few well-dressed
white ladies; but this was a time of the year when most of them were
absent at the springs of Balston and Saratoga, places of fashionable
resort, about 200 miles from New York.

All the native inhabitants of this city have sallow complexions. To have
colour in the cheeks is here considered a criterion by which a person is
known to be an Englishman. The young men are tall, thin, and solemn:
they all wear trowsers, and most of them walk about in loose great
coats.

There are, in New York, many _hotels_; some of which are on an extensive
scale. The City Hotel is as large as the London Tavern. The dining-room
and some of the private apartments seem to have been fitted up
regardless of expense. The _shops_, or stores, as they are here called,
have nothing in their exterior to recommend them to notice: there is not
even an attempt at tasteful display. In this city the linen and
woollen-drapers expose great quantities of their goods, loose on boxes,
in the street, without any precaution against theft. This practice, a
proof of their carelessness, is at the same time an evidence as to the
political state of society which is worthy of attention. Great masses of
the population cannot be unemployed, or robbery would be inevitable.

There are, in New York, many excellent private dwellings, built of red
painted brick, which gives them a peculiarly neat and clean appearance.
In Broadway and Wall-street, trees are planted along the side of the
pavement. The City Hall is a large and elegant building, in which the
courts of law are held. Most of the _streets_ are dirty: in many of them
sawyers prepare their wood for sale, and all are infested with pigs.

On the whole, a walk through New York will disappoint an Englishman:
there is an apparent carelessness, a laziness, an unsocial indifference,
which freezes the blood and disgusts the judgment. An evening stroll
along Broadway, when the lamps are lighted, will please more than one at
noonday. The shops will look rather better, but the manners of the
proprietors will not greatly please an Englishman: their cold
indifference may be mistaken, by themselves, for independence, but no
person of thought and observation will ever concede to them that they
have selected a wise mode of exhibiting that dignified feeling.

[There is, in New York, a seminary for education, called _Columbia
Coll