Baltimore commercial journal, and Lyford's price-current. [volume] (Baltimore, Md) 1840-1849, 1849-07-21
New York, during one of the late Hot Days.
[Erom the Morning Express.l

The solitude Of the business parts of New York,
after three O'Clock, is rather melancholy to us,
who, by day or by night, in summer in win
ter, by heat by cold, have to greedy
and seldom cxcusing public. The daily journal
must be got out, and must be served in all the
freshness of youth, whatever may be the pleasure
the recreation of others; and when they most
amused, or interested, idle, the harder must be
our effort to withstand their criticisms or to crafty
their tastes.
The hour at which write, and the spot over
which write this, CNall street, reminds us
almost of the solitude of western prairie, of an
Eastern wilderness. The hot pressing crowds that
nearly overrun and run down each other, few hours
ago, are all gone to their homes and here
are whose task is untring, gathering up the business
affairs of the day, making record OF what was done
to-day or of what is to be done Tomorrow Some of
those composing the crowds that scattering at
three o'clock now reposing sixty miles of, the
banks of the Housatonc, at the foot OF the
mountains in the valley of the Ramapo, over sixty
miles more, in another direction thousands on the
banks of the Hudson, and thousands more upon the
shores of Long Island. They snuff the pure country
breezes. They inhale the refreshing air. Their eyes
gaddened by the green trees and the refreshing
meadows, their spirits exherated by the odors Of
the new mown hay, or the chirp of the cricket, or
the flash OF the fire fly. The woods vocal with
the melody of songsters, while all we hear is, in
the distance, " Ride up" "Dry Dock" and the
like.
But can hardly say envy them There is,
in artificial life, charm that the country
cannot give, nor the country rob us Of The pure
exherating Croton comes bubbling into very
closets and bathing rooms. No such delightful, re-
freshng, exhileratng sport does the country afford
one, as good tickling, titatng shower bath, after
day like this, such day approaches. We write
by no dripping, winking tallow candle, but by the
broad daylight, it were, OF glorious gas light
No lamp have spent an hour in trimming. We
have said let there be Light and loco foco match
brought it at once The udicrous is thus associated
with the sublime; and now, when all Wall street is
empty, and there is only wilderness of untenanted
"palaces" about us, do not know but that feel
happy, and have much room, as if we were sip
ping tea on the Rartan, dashng through the surf
at Rockaway, listening, erect over the rocks
of Catsllill.
There are, we have not doubt Just now full one
hundred thousand of our people scattered far and
wide, but mainly in New Jersey and Connecticut,
when out of New York; and of these, some thirty
thousand, think, Just now, leave New York in the
railroads and steamboats, every night. The New
Haven road brings in and takes out people as far
Fairfield, some So miles, every day, and it runs
through villages that alive with rusticatng New
Workers. The like may be said of the Erie Railroad,
of the Harlem road, and of the New Jersey roads.
Besides these however, there fleets of steamboats,
that coast the Jersey Shores from the to the
rivers, that run along Long Island and the Hudson
river. OF these craft there is end. No knows
half OF them, at least no one has counted them.
The facilities for coming to and going from New
York have increased much within a short time,
and cheap is the communication price, that many do
business here whose families live sixty miles off,
and who come to or go from the city in about two
hours.
All these crowds, or the largest part of them, be il
remembered, come tumbling into Wall street from
to o'clock. There throngs at the Custom House.
There are throngs at the Banks There throngs
at the Brokers' Boards. There are throngs every
where. Every counter is alive, and every room
teens with busy industry. But what hurry there
is to get done, and to get off whole days life
of twenty-four hours is to be crowded into two or
three How they run ! How they fret How
anxious they look In what furry they are
Every man whizzes and pufs like locomotive and
the street would be dangerous to in if body had
half as much momentum as the steam man But 10,
Presto the scene shifts Wall street is gone to
the woods and the fields. We in Pompeii again!
Brick and mortar and pavements are all about us.