ause of the existence
of St. Petersburg calls up no generous sympathy with its progress,
because we know that the labour was constrained; and from its story,
when fairly told, we rise, not with pride in the power of our kind,
which had overcome so many obstacles, but with pity for the suffering
and debasement of humanity constrained to such exertion. On the
contrary, these yet humble cities of America, so humble as sometimes to
draw from the far-travelled a sneer upon the application of the word,
are surrounded by a healthful, moral atmosphere: their infancy is
vigorous, giving promise of a long endurance and ultimate greatness,
only to be limited by the will of the King of kings.

From the roof of the Eagle, a very large hotel, I took a general view of
the wide-spread frame of Buffalo, whose many as yet barely definable
streets are in the keeping of houses so thinly scattered, that they
reminded me of lines of sentries placed to denote occupation. I traced
the course of the great Erie canal from the Niagara river to the lake,
whose busy harbour was filled with steamers, schooners, and other
trading craft.

After sunset we descended from our lofty observatory, and followed the
line of the main street, witnessing the rejoicings called forth by this
anniversary of American Independence. The feeling of the community at
large could only be guessed at, since it made no sign; but if the body
politic of Buffalo might be considered fairly represented by some
hundred or so of active urchins who were congregated in a square near
the centre of the main street, nothing could be more ardent than this
city's gratitude, for these delegates beat drums, blew fifes, fired
crackers, and huzzaed until the welkin rang with their shrill small
yells. We found, upon inquiry, that there was no ball, dinner, or other
public demonstration; the reason was ascribed to the extreme violence of
party politics, which at this period completely divided the community,
and were carried out to an extent without precedent in their brief
annals.

The street was chiefly occupied by a number of Indians of the Seneca
tribe, dressed in a costume part native and part European: these
holiday-keepers lounged lazily about in all the delight of utter
intoxication, the men invariably in groups by themselves, and the ladies
of the tribe trapesing after them at a long interval with stoical
indifference.

Nothing can be more subversive of the poetry one's early recol