The Sun.
London, England, 1863-12-22 00:00:00

TU:4 WESTERN METROPOLIS.

(From the Special Correspondent of the Times.)
NEW YORK, Dee. 7.
Those who love the crush, the racket, and the roar
of :London would feel very much at home amid the
din and rattle of New York. In the way of noise
this city of one street has little to envy the Babylon
With the hundred thoroughfares: There is nothing
in the world more distracting, more fretting, more
inspiriting than a walk along the Broadway trot-
toirs from one hour after sunrise till long after the
closing of the shops in the evening. In Broadway
you have Oxford-street, the Strand, King William-
street, and London-bridge in one street between
two and three miles in length ; one main artery for
the pulsation of one million human tide. Starting
from the Old Battery, at the waters edge, where
the North and East Rivers blend their streams,
forming by far the noblest harbour and one of the
roost charming sites upon earth, and making for
.11oion-square or the Park, where interminable rows
of dell transverse streets, at right angles, with
stately but silent and somewhat dreary longitudinal
avenues, Spread out into the,Belgravias and Tybur-
nias of this Western London, the city has, through-

out, no other direct lino of communication than this
• one. There is not one omnibus or heavily laden
'waggon, and hardly a private vehicle or a pedes-

Man, no matter on what errand bound, that can
avoid the throng'and swarm of Broadway, and there
is hardly a human face, out of the hundreds of
thousands dwelling in the town and its suburbs,
that does-not love to show itself in Broadway from
choice, when not driven into it by necessity.
Truly this street, which gives New York its pecu-
liar character of oneness, is well worth all the affec-
tion that these Manhattan people evidently bear it.
Not that it has any particular object to attract the
attbntiors of a travelled stranger, but it is as gay as
the Boulevards, as trim and glittering as Regent-
street; it has a grandeur and loftiness all its own.
Shops, I beg their pardon, " stores," that take in
the whole, not of a house, but of a huge block of
houses, basement, ground floor, upper storeys, gar-
rets, and all ; hotels that present 150 ft. front to
the street, and nearly as high as they are long and
broad; marble warehouses, stylish as palaces, solid
as castles ; and churches, and halls, and theatres,
all that other towns scatter about in their various
quarters, much also that other towns hide away out
of sight—all is here mustered up in two parallel
rows of buildings, on a tolerably straight, but by no
means monotonous line, " up town and down town."
Toe real fascination of Broadway, however, lies in
its noise; not in mere brick and mortar, but in the
ebb and flow, in the heaving and eddying of the
ave.ve- that incessantly swseps along it. The pride
of Broadway is the omnibus, that peculiar institu-
foe of modern Republicanism, which flourishes no
where so luxurienly as in this
headquarters of the
Model Republic; the omnibus,
in London, not slow
andunwieldy as in Paris, but
gity avid gaudy and motley, now all beautifully
white WitA red and' gold letters, now quaintly
dinhtel over with lsnthcapes and sea pieces, and
the f!glas of odd
revolutionary
" guys" in cocked
hats find pigtails; a throng of- omnibuses, three or
four of them often abreast, or' as many arrayed
against one another, running foul of each other,
tilting with their long poles, clumsily driven, with
Uncouth shouts and savage oaths, and an occa-
sional crash, as horses slip, stumble, and tumble
on this the most treacherous and murderous pave-
nimt that ever disgraced a Christian community ;
for thorn is no Society for the Prevention
of Crteclty to Animals in this country, and
no one has leisure for the cultivation of
humane feelings. I never once walked along
Broadway, mcreing or evening, without seeing at
least one luckless home down ; never was in New York
on Sunday without being saddened by the eight of
one poor horse, the carcase rotting on the stone
where it fell, awaiting the cart which was to con-
vey it to the knacker's on the first working day.
Through the medley of these busses, and the heavy
carte, and the light spider-legged buggies which
venture into the fray (cabs are not among American
institutions, and the few lumbering hackney coaches
doing duty for them do their utmost to scare their
" fares" away by thievish charges)—throughout
this awful medley, I say, the great business of
the Western world must force its way. Crossing
the street, at Astor-house or at the turning of Wall-
steeet is by far a greater feat than anywhere in Pic-
cedilla- and Cheapside ; and the softer sex would at
all times give up the attempt es hopeless, were it
not for the intervention of a set of loungers, with
the garb and name of policemen, but with the man-
ners of the daintiest gentleman in all the land, whose
only duty is that of squiring the ladies; tall, stal-
wart men in long frock coats and round leathern
capes, who take hold of the fair one's arm as they
plunge with her into the vortex at one street corner,
and never slacken their professional grip until they
emerge out of the 2nelee at the other corner.
Through the midst of all this chaos of men, women
and things which constitute the ordinary traffic of
New York, these warlike times send now a regi-
ment of foot, now a battery to clog the whole pave-
ment with its heavy measured, inexorable tramp;
and more often a fire-engine, or a long row of fire-
Zgines come dashing up, tearing up, fighting their
mar, hose, escape, ladders and al!, drawn by
L" hatless and Coatless, very fiends in human shape,
Isis •
el grog for very life, and curdling your blood with
yesl borrowed from the wild Indians—the Fire
'
old familiar sight in New York, the
pride of
ricen skill and daring, the kind of work
best suited to the temper of a people who, even while
reviving the
ea.2ase of humanity, must needs obey
the instinct w
havoc end destreh
makes them revel in scenes of
get:„.
Such is outward lee
and proeparity ofll :York—a etty to the greatness
the of which Prolvie
elen co has set no lueeta,
the present if you will, the
work of present Southern
wrest in open rebellion again SecessEast ion ; set up the
last the ; split up
the Union into new States and,
nations; eat up the
Stars and Stripes into as many shreds and patches
as now make up the map of
"Nrew York to that eteP
importance of e ; 'educe the
which bears mere capital of
the Empire Slate w •
rn • "le; constitute
it into a mere kind of liano-atio city, t_
of ora, a you will
always have here the centre d
American
movement and life. its port an ea raver
the
and e gap
between the Alleghany and " Gre
• New Yon,. artery
Mountains, will always give
over the trade of the Western world. Atreadlti:e
old shipping importance of Salem, Portland,
and
Boston itself, and the banking pre-eminence et
Philadelphia, are rapidly absorbed by their Attn.
hattan rival ; for "unto everyone that bath shall
be given," and whatever may be the career of New
Orleans on the Gulf of Mexico, or San Francisco on
the Pacific, Now York will share with none of her
sister cities the sovereignty of the Atlantic. But to
the usual, unchecked, headlong progress—to the
iesolent good fortune of this mushroom city, the
great civil war has now come to give a fresh, momen-
tous impulse. The calamities which are desolating
the South and crippling the West have thrown
many a windfall into the lap of this great eastern
emporium, whose shouts of joy have echoed back
the groans of New Orleans and the cries of distress
of -St. Louis. The whole of America is flocking to
'4115, York. I have heard of European travellers in
opinion whose a - on Now York is a representative city—
the
-In and ser:rear.; of all Americanism. The
city however te in had odour with the natives th
slve„, even em-
it
as
the
s_tilanth the dwellers therein,who look upon
i of all alien misery and corruption—the
axy.uee of lawless _
Irish and godless Germans, of all
the worst sea of adventurers from
yew
of the m the Old World.
New York. Th are
wt:alaere profess to be at home in
make their fortune, or, .1 all P'.°l)lo who have come to
t fame- maoeeel •
fill they " realise." is a a it, -
flitting c )ula-
h• :th no roots to the e'P
Lion, ea .. 11, and but few of the
.;ea which bind ma_ .0
• ,•- man. The city is but
end a thorobglifare, a
• 'll3 place to mel-e money e. but•not ea, •and to 6;rkerc"' wields to e ;
or to close cne's ha ra7
one's iciure PEI old age, cr to

rear one's children.
With all this nomadic character,
""wever, \,'p Up
Y,lrk crowded Vace 0 all times—just
taw a
1.•
greatly overcrowded
place. 1,1 a town where bm.
rack-like hotels are so frequent, I it" o less t five
e:
six of these establishments on the moat
&kaw,,:e
scale are now bping built arty fitted up, Rnd their

apartments are already bespoken beforehand,not by
chance travellers, but by resident families, for whom
the ease of their inn has greater charms than the
sanctuary of a narrow home. The extravagant rise
in the price of building lots, the high wages of
14bcar, the scarcity of fuel, and the indifferent
quality of domestic service, conspire with the innate

''social" instincts of the American to induce him to
give preference to this collective and almost commu-
nistic method of housekeeping. New York is fast
being organised into a vast phalanstere and cara-
vansary. Domestic privacy is gradually becoming
the exception ; and the Fifth Avenue Hotel, origi-
nelly intended as a mere house for lodging and
boarding, has now become a sort of evening ex-
change,
where " bull 4 and bears" congregate after
their dinner, and where they have iately organised
over their wine a monster National Bank, after the
most approved Chase pattern, with a capital (paper)
of fifty millions of dollars..
These habits of gipsy life naturally engender luxu-
rious, frivolous, extravagant habits. The New
Yorkers live by the day, crowding their enjoy-
ments upon one another with restless eagerness, and
almost painful alacrity- The city boasts, as we are
informed, no less than 20 theatres and other places of
amusement—English,
French, Italian, and German,
counting free
ite
drama and opera, all of an inferior kind, so far as
my taste and experience go, without coc.,
u
concert halls, saloons, "gardens," 8c
would be difficult to number. The Western metro-
polis beats London in establishments of this nature,
and comes up very nearly to the standard of Paris.
The rage for spectacles has been greatly in the
ascendant since the outbreak of the war, and every
public room was this year pre-engaged from October
or November up to the close of March and April.
Two or three German play-houses have no repose
even on Sundays. Nor are private entertainments
less brisk. Balls and parties never have been so
numerous; never was there so much "going on."
French and Italian men-of-war have contributed
their share of polkas and champagne suppers ; the
f Russians especially have been the lions of the day,
. only, alas! to be set down as mere bears the day
after, to be scouted as "cursed tallow-eating, irre-
claimable barbarians." Nowhere perhaps is a more

raging thirst for money to be found closely allied to
a more utter Contempt for money. New York, one
would say, is no better than a vast gambling house.
Drive out on any fine Saturday afternoon to hear
the music in the new Central Park, and the sight
of those thousands of carriages, bran new, flaunting
and glittering, will speak to you of fortunes made
no sooner than yesterday, to be unmade no later than
to-morrow. The thought of the morrow seems to

weigh on no man here. That the great financial
crash must come, that the day is to dawn in which
greenbacks are to be of no more worth than as many
dry leaves, no man in his senses has the slightest
doubt ; but it is precisely becau,e the prosperity of
the city and the country is so ptE.c4rious and ephe-
meral that every sensible man isso anxious to enjoy
his own share of the good things of this world ; it
is bec-iuse Mr. Chase's currency is so flimsy and

perishable that racy are all anxious to be rid of it,
investing it in anything that msy look like solid
wealth, or yield an hour's gratification and solace.
The tfforts of the New Yorker, as indeed of the
American everywhere out of Boston, are all directed
to belie his English origin, and to effect French
tastes, habits, and manners. Al will of the Anglo.
axon enterprise, strength, steadiness, and laborious
ingenuity lies at the bottom here, but on the surface
young America apes French levity, and evinces
fond partiality for Parisian cookery, millinery, and
confectionery. We have here much of the glitter,
the dissipation, the harum-scarum recklessness of
Continental European out-of-door life. The Ame-
rican is a sort of hallFrenchified John Bull. You
might fancy Paterfamilias away on a spree for a
week or two aeroes the Channel, forgetting himself
among t.hc booths and kursaals of a watering-place,
and indulging abroad in those freaks and frolics of
which he would be heartily ashamed at home.
Whatever is not a shop or a banking house in New
York reminds you of a large, idle, and. somewhat
sinful watering-place. I shall not repeat all I read
in the newspapers of uncharitable neighbouring
cities, especially in those of sanctimonious,
emulous Philadelphia, with respect to the thou-
sands of pickpockets and the scores of thousands
of worse "social evils" which prowl about New
York streets. That the town is no better than it
should be, the most honest inhabitants are at all
times anxious to inform you; though they hasten to
tell you in the same breath that all the good is in-
digenous, all the evil of foreign importation. But
what I feel inclined to quarrel with is not so much
low vice in all its hideousness, the haunts of which
yawn at the door of too many low cellars in Broad-
way or. the Bowery, as that rakish fondness for dis-
sipation, of a more or less harmless character, that
distaste for home and settled life, which, coupled
with the inveterate habits of town residence in all
American communities, and the prevalence of pig-
ging together at hotels and boarding-houses, has
undermined so much of the earnestness, soberness,
and healthiness of the Anglo-Saxon character as
transplanted into this Western Continent.
It was early in October when I came back to this
city, after a short Western tour, and I was amazed
to find at that early time the whole population
already gathered together within their town walls,
after a short absence in their idle haunts of Saratoga
and Newport. Real country life is nowhere in
favour in America. The citizen who is boxed up
in his fine house in Fifth Avenue for at least ten
moaths in the year never leaves town without
taking the town itself along with him, his friends
and acquaintances, his hotel and his theatre,
to the watering-place to which he reluctantly
resorts for a few weeks reluctantly, e ;1
chiefly to please the queen of his household, who
expects to sport more gorgeous silks, more spat kling
jewels, and a more outrageously trailing crinoline
under the colonnade of the Ocean-house than she
ever did on the Broadway flags. Sweet, shady
nooks, and charming corners, and comfortable
villas dot here and there the vivid green of Staten
Island, of the Jersey shore, and of all the environs
of this lovely New York hay. Snug rural retreats
are to be enjoyed, summer and winter, at a few
minutes' distance from Wail-street, just across the
ferry. But your real New Yorker is no mare to be
weaned from his Avenue than the Parisian from his
Boulevards, and the country homes round the bay
are much more frequently tenanted by new settlers
from the Old World than by natives of this conti-
nent. Even the Briton on his first arrival soon
learns to do at New York as the New Yorkers do;
he becomes a gregarious animal, and October and
November are still displaying all the gorgeous traits
°f" American " fall," when already fields and woods
areleggyto unbroken solitude, and the country is
is all amfacedr
to be uninhabitable. Truly, the climate
y Italy
The puritt; out may wish either in or out of town.
by
American sky is hardly to be
matched, ay%
in all her glory, and winter
all
power
itself, wtoitdharit
'to million heated hearths, has no
y. the white
darken sull
this Western met of marble purity
juicing in the best itiPtio_l is, the lucky American re•
which gives heat witaa,ut
of anthracite coal—a fuel
fire without smoke.

--,:__------!--....,z•-...______.
uooting in the pre-
week, BATYuE.---In two c1,31•_ ________
gutt:t: Worcestershire, last
serves of Ear: Dudley, at Witley.co
destroyed. The
sportsmen were ,
ati n
week, exactly 2,000t120
DecDhaeacdd,oAfurnaie
ere
kerville, Sir J. S. Pakington, 1.P., mr. udley, Earl Tan-
Mr. Dowdeswell, Mr. Cookes, and lir. It Seemon, M.P.,
vate chronic complaints, but Du Barry's polio::
health
its cost in other remedies, invariably cures them, re•ratcTes
in
perfect digestion, strong nerves, sound lunga, beat% iivef
pure blood, refreshing sleep, functional regularity, *ma ,fle_r ,
to the most disordered or enfeebled. We extract a few out
of 60,060 Cures:—Curs No. 53,210 of the Marchioness de
Brehan, Paris, of a liver complaint, wasting away for seveu.
years, debility, with a nervous palpitation all Over, bad
digestion, constant sleeplessness, themost intolerable nervous
agitation, and dreadfully low spirited.—Cure O. 1,771. Lora
Stuart de Decies, Lord Lieut. of Waterford, of many years'
dyspepsia.—No. 49,8.32. "Fifty years" Indescribable aeony
from dyspepsia, nervousness, asthma, cou'ih,
constipation,
flatulen:7, spasms, sickness, and vomiting.—Maria Jolly."
—Cure N0..16,270. Mr. James Roberts, of Frimley, Surrey, of
thirty years' diseasedlungs, spitting of blood, liver derange.
ment, and partial deafness.—Cure No. 47,121. Miss Elizabeth
Jacobs, cf extreme nervousness, indie:estion, gatherings, low
spirits, and nervous fancies. —Cure No. 54,1,15. The Rev. Jas.
T. Campbell, Fakenham, Norfolk, "of indif,rcstion and torpi-
dity of the liver, which had resiste i all medical treatment."
n tin, l lb., t2s. oj.
; 21b., 4s. (Id ; Mb., lls. ; t2lb., 225. ; 41b
405
psar.r y Du Barry and Co., No. 77, 1? e,eut-street, London •
also Fortnum end .Mason; and all Grocers and.Chem4to in
every town of the '
'United Rin.geten. -