The Sun. — 1864-08-24 (London, England)

DINNER ♦T NIAGARA.  But when you go to Niagara, dine once, if never more, at the International Hotel. It is on a scale to match Niagara. The drawing room is a gorgeous immensity of plate-glass, gilding, and upholstery. You walk over a prairie of carpeting. But the dining room gives the best idea of infinite space, infinite eating, infinite clatter. A vast regiment of negro waiters parade, march, countermarch, and go through a series of distracting evolutions, to the music of a full band playing in an alcove. There is a march for them to enter; a three-four movement for soup ; 9p/se/eat° passage for fish ; the covers come off to a crash of trombones, cymbals, and gongs ; and so the whole dinner goes off to appropriate music, with an accompaniment of champagne corks like the firing of skirmishers. Altogether, it is a tremendous affair, even to an American, used to taking his dinner with a few hundred people about him, I can imagine what it must be to an Englishman. The expense of such a dinner, with a bill of fare that would fill four of my pages, is three, or perhaps four, shillings—but the wines are extra. An American, who means to do the thing handsomely, takes champagne. No other wine is worth his drinking. An English lady, wishing to give an idea of an American she met in Mantreal, described as " the sort of man who would take champagne with his soup I" The author's indignant remarks upon the reckless pursuit of riches would perhaps be applicable in other places besides America. In the main these remarks are eminently truthful and wise, but we think such a remark as the following must be taken cum grano. " Everything," says Dr. Nichols, "has a money value f believe the American husband unceasingly values his wife in the Federal currency; and a fine child is associated with some such idea as a thousand dollars I'' Our last extract shall give a picture of an American railway that in this country we should do well to emulate : Let us return, however, to our imaginary trip up the Hudson and across the Empire State. At Albany, we take the Now York Central Railroad for Niagara. It is some 300 miles, and the fare 203 or 255. In some of the States  the highest fare is three halfpence a mile, The carriages are much lighter, and to my taste handsomer in appearance than the English. There is no lack of paint, gilding, upholstery, and ornament. The seats are cushioned and  backed with plush. There are stoves in winter, and icewater in summer. In these cars, as these long carriages— seating fifty or sixty persons—are called, are small retiring rooms for both sexes. The doors open upon platforms at the ends of the cars, and you can walk from one end of a train to another while it is in motion. The conductor walks horn end to end inspecting tickets. There is no danger of robbery, murder, or other outrage, as in the small, locked, I and inaccessible compartment.' of European roads. Not only does the conductor walk through to examine the tickets, see that all is right, and answer inquiries, but the newsboy comes along loaded with daily and weekly papers —then he comes with books—all the newest publications, and then with oranges and confectionary. Overhead through every car runs a cord in reach of every passenger, a pull at which will signal the engineer or driver to stop, iircase of accident or other necessity. This cord also