esting things connected with the history of this
romantic city, which could not have been embodied in these hasty
numbers, I proceed to consider its present condition and prospects.

The bend of land which sustains all this magnificence and wealth, is
very much like that opposite Montgomery. A citizen acquainted with
our localities, may very justly imagine New Orleans to commence on
the west side of the Alabama, below Jackson's Ferry, continuing on
by Bibb's gate and terminating just below town.--Opposite old Alabama
town he may suppose the city of Lafayette to commence, then, further
on, the town of Bouligny, and then Carrollton.

The city proper is, by the river, five miles long, and will average
three-fourths of a mile wide. Then commences Lafayette, which extends
up the river two miles further, and, as they are so intimately
connected and associated, it all may be considered as one vast place,
seven miles in extent. After a succession of splendid mansions, farms,
and other houses, the whole resembling a continued village, Bouligny
and Carrollton unite with the chain of commerce. A century from this
date, Orleans, like London, will reach out her arms and encompass
within her limits every town and hamlet for miles around. As London
swallowed up Westminster, Southwark, Lambeth, and Chelsea, so will
Lafayette, Bouligny, Carrollton, and others adjacent be lost in her
future immensity. It will then all be New Orleans, the largest city on
the continent of America, and perhaps in the world.

The foundation consists of a plain inclining from the river, and when
looking from the St. Charles to the Levee, the singular spectacle is
presented of ships and boats standing raised up before you, and the
little rivulet in the street, just after a rain, running in a smart
current by you and losing itself in the swamp, as if afraid to mingle
with the "Father of Waters." As health and cleanliness are greatly
promoted by this gentle inclined plain, it is most fortunate that
Orleans is so situated. In ancient times the inhabitants were either
amphibious or lived at great sufferance from the floods. But now they
are protected by the Levee. A stranger however, upon the impulse,
would think that protection uncertain. But if he would reflect for a
moment, he would wisely determine that it requires not a very strong
dyke to pen up the surplus water during a freshet, for the main
current is confined by immense banks reaching far, far below. T