60 
 
 the bay of Naples ; and the castle, less than nothing* 
 compared with Castel Nuovo. Thank heaven, I had not 
 been abroad to spoil my relish. Even my uncle enjoy 
 ed it, and spoke more kindly to me than during the 
 whole passage. He was very sick, and called himself 
 an old fool fifty times a day. I believe half the time he 
 meant " young fool," that is me, for persuading him to 
 the voyage. Graves' eyes sparkled, but as usual he 
 said nothing. He only gave me a look, which said as 
 plainly as a thousand words, " how beautiful !" but 
 whether he meant me or dame nature, is more than I 
 can tell. 
 
 The moment we touched the wharf, there was an 
 irruption of the Goths and Vandals, as my uncle called 
 the hackney coachmen, and the porters, who risked their 
 necks in jumping aboard. " Carriage, sir," " Baggage, 
 sir," "City Hotel sir," "Mansion House," " Mrs. 
 Mann's," were reiterated a thousand times; and I 
 thought half a dozen of them would have fought for our 
 trunks, they disputed and swore so terribly. Stephen 
 declared it was worse than London ; and Graves said 
 it put him in mind of the contest between the Greeks 
 and Trojans for the body of poor Patroclus. My uncle 
 called them hard names, and flourished his stick, but it 
 would not do. When we got to the hotel I thought we 
 had mistaken some palace for a public house. Such 
 mirrors such curtains such carpets such sophas 
 such chairs ! I was almost afraid to sit down upon 
 them. Even Stephen looked his approbation, and re 
 peated over and over again : " Upon my soul, clever 
 quite clever very clever indeed, upon my soul." My 
 
61 
 
 micle says, all this finery comes out of the cotton plan 
 tations and rice swamps ; and that the negroes of the 
 south, work like horses, that their masters may spend 
 their money like asses in the north. 
 
 Poor Henney does nothing but stand stock still with 
 her mouth and eyes wide open, and is of no more use 
 to me than a statue. She is in every body's way and 
 in her own way too I believe. I took her with me the 
 other day to a milliner's, to bring home some of my 
 finery. She stopt at every window, with such evident 
 tokens of delight, that she attracted the attention of the 
 boys, and came very near being mobbed. I missed 
 her, and was obliged to turn back where I found her 
 in ecstacies with a picture of Madame Hutin dancing 
 before a droll figure, in a fur cap and spectacles. Juba 
 is keeping a journal I believe, for you know that my un 
 cle, while he abuses the practice with his tongue, as 
 sents to it in his heart, and humours his slaves more 
 perhaps than a professed philanthropist would do in his 
 situation. I should like to see Juba's lucubrations. 
 
 I begin to be weary so good night, my dear Maria. 
 I will write again soon. Your LUCIA. 
 
 P. S. What do you think, Maria 1 whisper it not 
 to the telltale echoes of the high hills of Santee they 
 say bishops and pads are coming into fashion. I have 
 seen several ladies that looked very suspicious. 
 
 Besides eating, and the various other resources for 
 passing the time in New York, there are various intel 
 lectual delights of most rare diversity. Exhibitions of 
 fat oxen to charm the liberal minded amateur Lord By- 
 6 
 
THE 
 
 NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS; 
 
 AND 
 
 GUIDE TO THE SPRINGS, 
 
 BY AN AMATEUR. 
 
 V 
 
 "Adieu La Boutique !' 
 
 NEW-YORK : 
 
 G. & C. CARVILL, 108 BROADWAY- 
 
 1828. 
 
 rt 
 
SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, as, 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the 29th day of April, A. D. 1828, 
 in the fifty-second year of the Independence of the United States 
 of America, G. & C. Carvill, of the said district, have deposited 
 in this office, the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as 
 proprietors, in the words following, to wit : 
 
 " The New Mirror for Travellers ; and Guide to the Springs. By 
 an Amateur. ' Adieu La Boutique !' " 
 
 In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, enti 
 tled, " An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the 
 copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprie 
 tors of such copies, during the time therein mentioned ;" and 
 also, to an Act, entitled, " An Act, supplementary to an Act, en 
 titled an Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the 
 copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors 
 of such copies, during the times therein mentioned, and extending 
 the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etchr- 
 ing historical and other prints." 
 
 FRED. I. BETTS, 
 
 Ckrk of the Southern District of New-York 
 
 Sleight & George, Printers, Jamaica, I,. I. 
 
l*0i 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 EVER since the invention of steam engines, steam 
 boats, steam carriages, Liverpool packets, rail roads, 
 and other delightful facilities for travelling, the march 
 of the human body has kept pace with the march of the 
 human mind, so that it is now a moot point which gets 
 on the faster. If the body moves at the rate of fifteen 
 miles an hour, the mind advances in an equal pace, and 
 children of sixteen are in a fair way to become wiser 
 than their grandfathers. While the grown up gentle 
 man goes to Albany in twelve hours, and comes back 
 in forty-eight with a charter in his pocket, the aspiring 
 schoolboy smatters a language, or conquers a science, 
 by the aid of those vast improvements, in the " machi 
 nery" of the mind, which have immortalized the age. 
 In fact, there seems to be a race between matter and 
 mind, and there is no telling which will come out first 
 in the end. 
 
 Legislators and philosophers may flatter themselves 
 as they will, but they have little influence in shaping 
 this world. The inventors of paper money, cotton 
 
4 
 
 machinery, steam engines and steam boats, have 
 caused a greater revolution in the habits, opinions and 
 morals of mankind, than all the systems of philosophy, 
 aided by all the efforts of legislation. Machinery and 
 steam engines have had more influence on the Christian 
 World, than Locke's metaphysics, Napoleon's code, or 
 Jeremy Bentham's codification ; and we have heard a 
 great advocate for domestic manufactures predict, the 
 time was not far distant, when men and women and 
 children would be of no use but to construct and attend 
 upon machinery when spinning jennies would become 
 members of congress, and the United States be govern 
 ed by a steam engine of a hundred and twenty horse 
 power. We confess ourselves not quite so sanguine, 
 but will go so far as to say, we believe the time may 
 come when a long speech will be spun out of a bale of 
 cotton by a spinning jenny ; a president of the United 
 States be made by a combination of machinery ; and 
 Blynheer Maelzel be beaten at chess by his own auto 
 maton. 
 
 Without diving deeper into such speculations, or tra 
 cing the effects of these vast improvements in the con 
 dition of mankind, who will soon have nothing to do 
 but tend upon machinery, we shall content ourselves with 
 observing that the wonderful facilities for locomotion 
 furnished by modern ingenuity have increased the num- 
 
5 
 
 her of travellers to such a degree, that they now consti 
 tute a large portion of the human family. All ages and 
 sexes are to be found on the wing, in perpetual motion 
 from place to place. Little babies are seen crying 
 their way in steam boats, whose cabins are like so 
 many nurseries people who are the most comfortable 
 at home, are now most fond of going abroad the 
 spruce shopman exclaims " Adieu La Boutique," and 
 leaves the shopboy to cheat the town for him the 
 young belle, tired of seeing and being seen in Broad 
 way, breaks forth in all her glories in a new place at 
 five hundred miles distance bedrid age musters its 
 last energies for an expedition to West Point, or the 
 Grand Canal and even the thrifty housewife of the 
 villages on the banks of the Hudson, who heretofore 
 was " all one as a piece of the house," thinks nothing 
 of risking a blow up, or a break down, in making a 
 voyage to New York to sell a pair of mittens, or buy a 
 paper of pins. We have heard a great political econo 
 mist assert, that the money spent in travelling between 
 New York and Albany, in the last fifteen years, would 
 go near to maintain all the paupers of the United States 
 in that the purest of all possible states of independ 
 ence to wit, a freedom from an ignominious depend 
 ence on labour and economy. It is high time, there 
 fore, that the wandering Arabs of the west should have 
 1* 
 
6 . 
 
 a code of laws, and regulations for their especial go 
 vernment, and the principal design of the present work 
 is to supply this desideratum. 
 
 We have accordingly prepared a system of jurispru 
 dence, which, we flatter ourselves, will not suffer in 
 comparison, either with the code Napoleon- the code 
 Bentham or any other code which the march of mind 
 hath begotten on the progress of public improvement 
 in the present age. The traveller, if we mistake not, 
 will find in it ample instructions, as to his outfits in 
 setting forth for unknown parts the places and things 
 most worthy of attention in his route the deportment 
 proper in divers new and untried situations and above 
 all, critical and minute instructions, concerning those 
 exquisite delights of the palate, which constitute the 
 principal object of all travellers of taste. 
 
 In addition to this, we have omitted no opportunity 
 of inculcating a passion for travelling, which from long 
 laborious experience, we pronounce the most exquisite 
 mode of killing time and spending money ever yet de 
 vised by lazy ingenuity. It would occupy our whole 
 book which is restricted to a certain bulk, so as not 
 to interfere with the ladies' bandboxes and the gentle 
 men's trunks were we to indulge in a summary of all 
 the delights and advantages of seeing new and distant 
 parts. Unfortunately for us we write solely for the 
 
benefit of the world, holding our own especial emolu 
 ments in sovereign contempt ; and still more unfortu 
 nately, if this were not the case, we belong not to that 
 favoured class of writers, who can take the liberty of 
 publishing in six royal octavos, matter which might be 
 compressed in one. We have only space to observe, 
 that a man who has travelled to good purppse, and 
 made a proper use of his opportunities, may commit as 
 many blunders and tell as many good stories as he 
 pleases, provided he confines himself to places, where 
 he has been, and his hearers have not. Books are of 
 no authority in opposition to an eyewitness ; who is, as 
 it were, like so many of our great politicians ex- 
 officio, a judge of every thing. 
 
 Two persons were once disputing in a large compa 
 ny, about the Venus de Medicis. One maintained that 
 her head inclined a little forward to the right, the other 
 that it inclined to the left. One had read Winckelman, 
 and a hundred other descriptions of the statue. The 
 other had never read a book in his life ; but he had been 
 
 at Florence, and looked at the Venus, for at least five 
 minutes. 
 
 " My dear sir / ought to know ; for I have read all 
 the books, that were ever written on the Venus de 
 Medicis." 
 
 "My dear sir / must know; fer I have been at 
 Florence and seen her." 
 
8 
 
 Here was an end of the argument. All the company 
 was perfectly satisfied, that the man who had seen with 
 his own eyes was right and yet he was wrong. But 
 seeing is believing, and being believed too. You may 
 doubt what a man affirms on the authority of another ; 
 but if he says he has seen the sea serpent, to doubt his 
 veracity is to provoke a quarrel. Such are the advan 
 tages of seeing with our own eyes ! Let us therefore 
 set out without delay on the GRAND NORTHERN 
 TOUR, 
 
THE 
 
 NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS, &c. 
 
 IN compiling and cogitating this work, we have con 
 sidered ourselves as having no manner of concern with 
 travellers until they arrive in the city of New York, 
 where we intend to take them under our especial pro 
 tection. Doubtless, in proceeding from the south, 
 there are various objects worth the attention of the tra 
 veller, who may tajce the opportunity of stopping to 
 change horses, or to dine, to look round him a little, 
 and see what is to be seen. But, generally speaking, 
 all is lost time, until he arrives at New York, of which 
 it may justly be said, that as Paris is France, so New 
 York is New York. It is here then that we take the 
 fashionable tourist by the hand and commence cice 
 rone. 
 
 The city of New York, to which all travellers of taste 
 resort from the remotest corners of the earth, and from 
 whence they set out on what is emphatically called the 
 GREAT NORTHERN TOUR, is situated at the confluence 
 of two noble waters, and about eighteen miles from the 
 Atlantic Ocean. But we have always thought it a 
 singular piece of impertinence in the compilers of road 
 books, itineraries, and guides, to take up the traveller's 
 
10 
 
 lime in describing things he came expressly to see, and 
 shall therefore confine ourselves to matters more occult 
 and inaccessible to transient sojourners. New York, 
 though a very honest and well intentioned city as times 
 go, (with the exception of Wall Street, which labours 
 under a sort of a shadow of suspicion,) has changed its 
 name almost as often as some graceless rogues, though 
 doubtless not for the same reasons. The Indian name 
 was Manhadoes ; the Dutch called it New Orange and 
 New Amsterdam ; the English New York, which name 
 all the world knows it still retains. In 1673, it was a 
 small village, and the richest man in it was Frederick 
 Philipse, or Flypse, who was rated at 80,000 guilders. 
 Now it is the greatest city of the new world ; the third, 
 if not the second, in commerce of all the world, old and 
 new ; and there are men in it, who were yesterday 
 worth millions of guilders in paper money : what they 
 may be worth to-morrow, we cant say, as that will de 
 pend on a speculation. In 1660, the salaries of mi 
 nisters and public officers were paid in beaver skins : 
 now they are paid in bank notes. The beaver skins 
 were always worth the money, which is more than can 
 be said of the bank notes. New York contains one 
 university and two medical colleges ; the latter always 
 struggling with each other with a noble spirit of gene 
 rous, scientific emulation. There are twenty-two banks 
 good, bad and indifferent ; forty-three insurance 
 companies solvent and insolvent ; and one public 
 library : from whence it may be reasonably inferred, 
 that money is plenty as dirt insurance bonds still more 
 and that both are held in greater estimation thaa 
 
11 
 
 learning. There are also one hundred churches, and 
 about as many lottery offices, which accounts for the 
 people of New York being so much better than their 
 neighbours. 
 
 In addition to all these, there is an academy of arts, 
 an athenaeum, and several other institutions for the dis 
 couragement of literature, the arts and sciences. The 
 academy languishes under the patronage of names. 
 The athenaeum is a place where one may always meet 
 with La Belle Assemblee, Ackerman's Magazine, and 
 the last number of Blackwood. In addition to these 
 places of popular amusement and recreation, New 
 York supports six theatres, of various kinds : from 
 whence it may be inferred, the people are almost as 
 fond of theatres as churches. There was an Italian 
 opera last year. But Eheu fugaces Posthume! The 
 birds are flown to other climes, and left the sweet 
 singers of all other nations, as it were, howling in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 Besides these attractions and ten thousand more, 
 New York abounds beyond all other places in the uni 
 verse, not excepting Paris, in consummate institutions 
 for cultivating the noble science of gastronomy. The 
 soul of Heliogababus presides in the kitchens of our 
 hotels and boarding houses, and inspires the genius of 
 a thousand cooks not sent by the d 1, as the old pro 
 verb infamously asserts, but by some special dispensa 
 tion. There too will be found canvass backs from the 
 Susquehanna ; venison from Jersey, Long Island and 
 Catskill ; grouse from Hempstead Plains ; snipe from 
 the Newark meadows ; and partridges from Bull Hill ; 
 
12 
 
 which, if the gourmand hath never eaten, let him despair 
 Then as for fish ! for a mouth to eat, or to utter 
 the names of the fish that flutter in the markets of New 
 York, silently awaiting their customers like so many 
 pupils of Pythagoras. It is a pleasure to keep Lent 
 here. It is impossible to enumerate them all : but we 
 should consider ourselves the most ungrateful of man 
 kind, were we to omit making honourable mention of 
 the inimitable trout from the Fire Place, whose pure 
 waters are alone worthy the gambols of these sportive 
 Undinae ; or the amiable sheep's head, whose teeth pro 
 ject out of his mouth as if to indicate that he longs to 
 be eating up himself;* or the black fish, which offers a 
 convincing proof that nature knows no distinction of 
 colours, and has made the black skin equal to the white 
 at least among fishes ; or the delicious bass the 
 toothsome shad and the majestic cod, from the bank of 
 Newfoundland, doubly remarkable, as being almost the 
 only good that, ever came of banks. All these, together 
 with countless varieties of smaller fry, offer themselves 
 spontaneously to the experienced connoisseur, a new 
 delicacy for every day in the year. We invoke them 
 all ! Thee sea green lobster of , the Sound, best beloved 
 of southern invalids, a supper of whom is a sovereign 
 cure for dyspepsia ; thee luscious soft crab, the disco 
 very of whose inimitable excellence has made the city 
 of Baltimore immortal ; cat fish and flounder, slippery 
 eel and rough shelled muscle ; elephant clam, which 
 
 * The unlearned traveller will be careful not to confound the 
 sheep's head, with the head of a sheep, as did the honest Irishman 
 at Norfolk. 
 
13 
 
 the mischievous boys of the Sound call by a more inglo 
 rious name ; we invoke ye all ! And if we forget 
 thee, most puissant and imperial oyster, whether of 
 Blue Point, York River, Chingoteague or Chingarora, 
 may our palate forget its cunning, and lose the best 
 gift of heaven the faculty of distinguishing between 
 six different Madeira wines, with our eyes shut ! All 
 these and more may be seen of a morning at Fulton 
 and Washington Markets, and the traveller, who shall 
 go away without visiting them, has travelled in vain. 
 
 Then for cooking these various and transcendent ex 
 cellencies, these precious bounties Thee we invoke 
 thee of the Bank Coffee House, who excellest equally 
 in the sublime sciences of procuring and serving up 
 these immortal dishes, and hast no equal among men, 
 but the great SYKES, with whom thou didst erewhile 
 divide the empire of the world. But Eheu fugaces 
 Posthwne too ! the smoke of his kitchen which bore up 
 incense worthy of the gods is now gone out he himself 
 is like a shadow long departed, and nothing is left of 
 him but the recollection of his suppers and his debts. 
 Neither must we commit the crying sin of passing un 
 noticed and unhonoured the utterly famous gastrono- 
 mium of the great DROZE, master of the twelve sciences 
 that go tQ the composition of a consummate cook ; nor 
 the crying injustice of omitting to point the nose of the 
 curious traveller to Him of the neiv Masonic Hall, great 
 in terrapin soup greater in fricasees and fricandeaux 
 greatest of all in a calf's head ! Neither would we 
 pass over the modest merits of HIM OF THE GOOSE AND 
 r, who like the skilful logician can make the 
 2 
 
14 
 
 Worse appear the better reason, and convert by the magic 
 of his art, the most ordinary material into dishes worthy 
 the palates of the most erudite members of the Turtle 
 Club, whose soup and whose jests are the delight of 
 the universe. But we should never have done, were 
 we to pass in review an "hundred, yea, a thousand illus 
 trious worthies to be found in every street and lane of 
 this eating city, who tickle the cunning palate in all 
 the varieties of purse and taste, from a slice of roast beef 
 and a glass of beer, at a shilling, to grouse and canvass 
 backs, and Bingham wine, at just as much as the land 
 lord pleases. Suffice it to say that if, as the best prac 
 tical philosophers do maintain, the business of man's life 
 is eating, there is no place in the universe where he can 
 live to such exquisite purpose as the renowned city of 
 NEW YORK. We have heard it confessed by divers 
 condign Englishmen, who had eaten and grumbled their 
 way through all parts of Europe, where there was any 
 thing to eat, that they no where found such glorious 
 content of the palate, as at this happy emporium of all 
 good things. If any corroborative of this testimony 
 should be thought necessary, we will add the experience 
 of twenty- five years of travel in various countries, during 
 which we have tasted, by actual computation, upwards 
 of five thousand different dishes. Still farmer to esta 
 blish the glories of our favourite city, we will adduce the 
 Authority of a young gentleman, who travelled several 
 .years on the continent, and approved himself a compe> 
 tent gourmand, by bringing home a confirmed dyspepsia. 
 He has permitted us to insert a letter written originally 
 to a friend at the south, which, besides setting forth tbp 
 
15 
 
 excellent attractions of NEW YORK, exemplifies in a 
 most striking manner the benefits derived from travel, 
 which improving divertisement, it is the design of our 
 work to encourage and provoke by all manner of means. 
 Truly did the great philosopher and moralist, Dr. John 
 son, who passed all his life in the fear of death, truly 
 did he inculcate the superiority of the knowledge derived 
 from seeing, to all other knowledge. Who that hath 
 seen the grand opera at Paris, but will have all his life 
 after a more vivid impression of legs ? Who that hath 
 sojourned in the vast eating houses of New York and 
 Paris, but will cherish an increasing sentiment of the 
 primary importance of the noble science of gastronomy ? 
 And who, that has once beheld the magnificent contrast 
 between the king and his beggarly subjects in some 
 parts of the old world, but must feel ennobled by the ex 
 ample of what human nature is capable of, if properly 
 cultivated ? But to our purpose. The letter alluded 
 to, is one of a series written by the members of a most 
 respectable family from the south, to which we have 
 politely been permitted access, and from which we shall 
 occasionally borrow some others, 
 
 STEPHEN GRIFFEN, ESQ. TO FRANK LATHAM. 
 
 'New York, . 
 
 Verily Frank, this same New York is a place that may 
 be tolerated for a few weeks, with the assistance of the 
 Signorina, the unequalled cookery, and above all the di 
 vine Madame . Only think of a real, genuine opera 
 
 dancer in these parts ! Five years ago, I should as soon 
 have expected to see an Indian war dance at the Theatre 
 
16 
 
 Francois. It is really a vast comfort to have something 
 one can relish after Paris. I think it bad policy for a young 
 fellow to go abroad, unless he can afford to spend the rest 
 of his life in New York. Coming home to a country- 
 life, is like going from high seasoned dishes to ham and 
 chickens. Such polite people as one meets with abroad ; 
 they never contradict you so long as you pay them what 
 they ask for every thing ; such a variety of dishes to eat ; 
 why Frank, a bill of fare at a Paris hotel, is as long as a 
 list of the passengers in Noah's ark or a Liverpool 
 packet ; and comprehends as great a variety of animals. 
 Nothing can equal it except New York. And then 
 such a succession of amusements. Nobody ever yawn 
 ed in Paris, except a real John Bull, some of whom have 
 their mouths always open, either to eat or yawn. To 
 see a fat fellow gaping in the Louvre you would think he 
 came there to catch flies, as the alligators do, by lying 
 with their jaws extended half a yard. How I love to 
 recall the dear delights of the grand tour ; and as I 
 write at thee, not to thee, Frank, I will incontinently 
 please myself at this present, by recapitulating, if it be 
 only to refresh my memory, and make thee miserable at 
 thy condign ignorance of the world. 
 
 I staid abroad six years ; just long enough to cast 
 my skin, or shed my shell, as the snakes and crabs do 
 every once and a while. In France, I threw away my 
 clod-hopping shoes, and learned to dance. I got a new 
 stomach too, for I took vastly to Messrs, the re 
 staurateurs. In Italy, I was drawn up the Appenines 
 by six horses and two pair of oxen, and went to sleep 
 every day for three weeks, at the feet of the Venus do 
 
17 
 
 Medicis. There were other Venuses at whose feet I 
 did not go to sleejfc I was, moreover, deeply inocu 
 lated, or rather as the real genuine phrase is, vaccinated, 
 with a raving taste for music, and opera dancing, which 
 last, in countries where refinement is got to such a 
 pitch that nobody thinks of blushing, is worth, as Mr. 
 Jefferson says of Harper's Ferry, " a voyage across 
 the Atlantic." By the way, they have an excellent 
 custom in Europe, which puts all the women on a par. 
 They paint their faces so that one can't tell whether 
 they blush or not. Impudence and modesty are thus 
 on a level, and all is as it should be. 
 
 Italy is indeed a fine place. The women are so 
 sociable, and the men so polite. France does pretty 
 well ; but even there they sometimes, particularly since 
 the brutifying revolution, they sometimes so far forget 
 themselves as to feel dishonour and resent insult. All 
 this is owing to the bad example of that upstart Napoleon, 
 and his upstart officers. Now in Italy, when a gentle 
 man of substance takes an affront, he does not dirty his 
 fingers with the affair ; he hires me a fellow whose trade 
 is killing, and there is an end of the matter. Tffen it is 
 such a cheap country. Every thing is cheap, and 
 women the cheapest of all. Every thing there, except 
 pagan antiques, is for sale ; and you can buy heaven 
 of his holiness, for a hundred times less money, than it 
 costs to purchase the torso of a heathen god without 
 legs or arms. 
 
 In Germany and especially at Vienna, they are excess 
 ively devout and what I assure you is, in very refined 
 countries not in the least incompatible exceedingly 
 2* 
 
 
18 
 
 profligate at the same time. I mean among the higher 
 ranks. This is one of the great sefrets a young fellow 
 learns by going abroad. If he makes good use of his 
 time, his talents, and above all his money, he will 
 find the secret of reconciling a breach of the whole 
 decalogue, with the most exemplary piety. When 
 I was first in Vienna they had the Mozart fever, 
 and half the city was dying of it. On my se 
 cond visit Beethoven was all the vogue. He was as 
 deaf as a post yet played and composed divine 
 ly ; a proof you being of the pure Gothic will say- 
 that music can be no great science, since it requires 
 neither ears nor understanding. Beethoven had a long 
 beard, and a most ferocious countenance ; there was 
 no more music in it than in a lion's. He was moreover 
 excessively rude and disobliging, and would not play for 
 the emperor unless he was in the humour. These pe 
 culiarities made him irresistible. The Beethoven fev,er 
 was worse than the Mozart fever a great deal. I re 
 turned a third time to Vienna and Beethoven was 
 starving. They were all running after a great preacher, 
 who from being the editor of a liberal paper, had turned 
 monk, and preached in favour of the divine right of the 
 emperor, notwithstanding the diet and all that sort of 
 trumpery. But music is their passion it is the source 
 of their national pride. 
 
 I once said to a worthy banker who had charge of my 
 purse strings " Really monsieur you are very loose 
 in your morals here." " Yes but we are the most mu 
 sical people in the world" replied he triumphantly. 
 " Your married ladies of fashion have such crowds of 
 
19 
 
 lovers." " Yes but then they are so musical." " And 
 then from the prime minister Prince Metternich down 
 wards, every man of the least fashion is an intriguer 
 among women." " True my dear sir but then Prince 
 Metternich has a private opera house, and you hear the 
 divinest music there." " And then the peasantry are in 
 such a poor condition so ignorant." " Ignorant sir 
 you mistake there is hardly one of them but can read 
 music !" Music covers a multitude of sins at Vienna. 
 It is worth while to go to Vienna only to see the pea 
 santry the female peasantry from the country, with 
 bags, picking up manure, and singing perhaps an air of 
 Mozart or Beethoven. 
 
 In England I got the last polish that is to say, I 
 learned to box enough to get a black eye, now and then 
 in a set-to with a hackney coachman, or an insolent 
 child of the night videlicet, a watchman. Moreover, 
 I learned to give an uncivil answer to a civil question ; 
 to contradict without ceremony ; to believe that an Ame 
 rican mammoth was not half as big as a Teeswater 
 bull ; that one canal was worth a dozen rivers ; that a 
 rail road was still better than a canal, and a tunnel bet 
 ter than either ; that M'Adam was a greater man than 
 the Colossus of Rhodes ; that liberty was upon the 
 whole rather a vulgar ill bred minx ; and that a nation 
 without a king and nobility, was no better than a human 
 body wanting that indispensable requisite, the seat of 
 honour. Finally, I brought home a great number of 
 clever improvements to wit, a head enlightened with 
 a hundred conflicting notions of religion, government, 
 morals, music, painting, and what not ; and a heart di- 
 
20 
 
 vested of all those vulgarisms concerning love of coun* 
 try, with which young Americans are apt to be impes- 
 tered at home. Thus I may say, I got rid of all my 
 home bred prejudices ; for a man can only truly 
 be said to be without prejudices when he has no de 
 cided opinions on any subject whatever. Lastly, I had 
 contracted a habit of liberal curiosity which impelled 
 me to run about and see all the fine sights in the world. 
 I would at any time travel a hundred miles to visit an 
 old castle, ogle a Canova, or a Raphael. In short, I 
 was a gentleman to all intents and purposes, for I could 
 neither read, work, walk, ride, sit still, or devote my 
 self to any one object for an hour at a time. 
 
 This was my motive for coming hither : -I came in 
 search of sensation, whether derived from eating lob 
 sters, or seeing opera dancers, is all one to me. But alas, 
 what is there here to see, always excepting the dinners 
 and suppers, worth the trouble of opening one of one's 
 eyes, by a man who has seen the Opera Francois the 
 Palais Royale the inside of a French cook shop the 
 Pantheon St. Peter's the carnival- the coronation 
 and the punch of all puppet-shows, a legitimate king 
 besides rowing in a Venitian gondola and crossing 
 Mount St. Bernard on a donkey ! Last olf all, friend 
 Frank, I brought home with me the genuine patent of' 
 modern gentility a dyspepsy, which I caught at a fa 
 mous restaurateurs, and helped to mature at the Palais 
 Royale, where they sit up late at nights, eat late sup 
 pers, and lie abed till five o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 But this dyspepsy, though excessively high bred, at 
 that time, is now becoming vulgar. I have actually 
 
21 
 
 heard brokers and lottery office keepers complain of it 
 since my arrival here. Besides it spoils the pleasure of 
 eating ; and a man must have made the grand tour to 
 little purpose, not to know that eating is one of the chief 
 ends of man. I vegetated about for a year or two, 
 sans employment, sans amusement, sans every thing 
 except dyspepsia. The doctor advised hard work and 
 abstinence remedies ten times worse than the disease 
 to a man who has made the grand to*r. " Get a 
 wife, and go and live on a farm in * ie upper country." 
 " Marry and live in the countrr 1 not "" i* would give 
 me the digestion of an ost^ h ^' exclaimed Signior Ste 
 phen Griffen. By tb* wav > tms sa n* e Christian name 
 of mine is a bo^ GrifFen will do it smacks of he 
 raldry ; but Stephen puts one in mind of that degenerate 
 potentate, whose breeches only cost him half a crown, 
 a circumstance in itself sufficient to stamp him with 
 ignominy unutterable. Be this as it may, it pleased my 
 doughty god-father, whom I shall never forgive for not 
 giving me a better name, to accede to the wishes of that 
 exceedingly sensible rice-fed young damsel, his pet 
 niece, and my predestined rib, alias better half, to visit 
 the springs at Ballston and Saratoga the great canal 
 the great falls and other great lions of these parts. 
 So here we are established for ten days or a fortnight, 
 for the purpose of taking a preparatory course of lob 
 sters, singers, dancers, dust and ashes. Broadway is 
 a perfect cloud of dust. It has been M'Adamized 
 for which may dust confound all concerned. 
 
 Thine, S. G> 
 
22 . 
 
 The approach to New York, either through the Nar 
 rows, or the Kills as they are called, is conspicuously 
 beautiful, and worthy of the excellent fare to which the 
 fortunate traveller is destined, who visits the city at a 
 proper season. And here we must caution our readers 
 to beware of all those unlucky months, that are without 
 the fortunate letter R, which may be called the tutelary 
 genius of oysters, inasmuch as no oyster can enjoy the 
 pleasure of bbU^ eaten in New York, during any of the 
 barren months, whi^ are without this delightful conso 
 nant. It is against the i^ w<( experience having demon 
 strated the ill effects of inft,,jgi n g i n these delicious 
 dainties in hot weather, in the suM en deaths of divers 
 common councilmen after supper. T nr this reason 
 most of the fashionable people go out of town, during 
 those infamous months that intervene between May and 
 August, not one of which contains the fortunate R, 
 there being nothing left worth staying for. This period 
 may justly be called the season of Lent. No canvass 
 backs no venison no grouse no lobsters no oys 
 ters ; nothing but lamb and chicken, and green peas ! 
 No wonder all people of taste go out of town, for as 
 a famous prize poet writes : 
 
 " Without all these, the town's a very curse, 
 Broadway a bore, the Battery still worse ; 
 Wall Street the very focus of all evil, 
 Cook shops a h 11, arid every cook the d 1." * 
 
 * See a prize poem on the opening of the Goose and Gridiron, fov 
 which the fortunate author received a collation and twelve oyster sup 
 pers, besides having his mouth stuffed full of sugar candy after tht 
 manner of the Persian poets. 
 
23 
 
 New York is not only beautiful in its approach, beau 
 tiful in itself, and consummate in eating ; its liquors are 
 inimitable divine. Who has not tasted the " Bing- 
 ham" the " Marston" the " Nabob" and the " Billy 
 Ludlow !" Above all, who has not tasted of the unpa 
 ralleled "Resurrection" wine so called from its having 
 once actually brought a man to life, after he . was stone 
 dead under the table. Nobody ever died until they had 
 no more of this wine left ; and a famous physician once 
 affirmed in our presence, that every drop was as good 
 as a drop of buoyant, frisky youthful blood added to the 
 body corporate. No wonder then that eating and drink 
 ing is the great business of life in New York, among 
 people that can or cannot afford these exquisite dain 
 ties, and that they talk of nothing else at dinner ; for as 
 the same illustrious prize poet has it, 
 
 " Five senses were by ever bounteous heaven, 
 To the thrice lucky son of Adam given. 
 Seeing, that he might drink e'en with his eyes, 
 And catch the promise that taste rarifies ; 
 Hearing, that he might list the jingling glass, 
 That were he blind might unsuspected pass ; 
 Smelling, that when all other sense is gone, 
 Will for their traitorous absence half atone ; 
 And feeling, which, when the dim, shadowy sight. 
 No longer guides the pious pilgrim right, 
 Gropes its slow way unerring to the shop, 
 Where Dolly tosses up her mutton chop, 
 And sacred steams of roasted oysters rise 
 Like incense to the lean and hungry skies."^ 
 
 Of the manner in which the various manoeuvres ol 
 gastronomy are got through in New York, at dinners,. 
 
 \ 
 
24 
 
 and evening parties, the following, which we have po*- 
 litely been permitted to copy from the unpublished let' 
 ters we spoke of, will sufficiently apprize the courteous 
 reader. It is high ton throughout we assure him, 
 though there are at present some symptomatic indica 
 tions of a change for the better at least according to 
 the notions of Colonel Culpeper in the evening parties, 
 from whence it is we understand, contemplated to ba 
 nish late hours, oysters, and champagne. Against this 
 last innovation we protest in the name of posterity and 
 the immortal gods. Banish beauty banish grace ba 
 nish music, dancing, flirtation, ogling, and making love 
 but spare, O spare us the oysters and champagne ? 
 What will become of the brisk gallantry of the beaux, 
 the elegant vivacity of the belles, the pleasures of anti 
 cipation, and the ineffable delights of fruition, if you ba 
 nish oysters and champagne ? 
 
 The fashionable reader will be tempted to smile at 
 the colonel's antediluvian notions, of style and good 
 breeding ; but what can you expect from a man born 
 and brought up among the high hills of Santee ? His 
 strictures on waltzing are especially laughable. What 
 do women we mean fashionable women dress and 
 undress, wear bishops, and wind themselves into the ele 
 gantly lascivious motions of the waltz for, but to excite 
 sensation in the gentlemen, who ought to be eternally 
 gratefol for the pains they take. 
 
25 
 
 COLONEL CULPEPER TO MAJOR BRANDE. 
 
 New York, May 6, 1827. 
 
 DEAR MAJOR, I have been so occupied of late in 
 seeing sights, eating huge dinners, and going to eve 
 ning parties to matronize Lucia, that I had no time 
 to write to you. The people here are very hospitable, 
 though not exactly after the manner of the high hills of 
 Santee. They give you a great dinner or evening party, 
 and then, as the sage Master Stephen Griffen is pleased 
 to observe, " let you run." These dinners seem to be 
 in the nature of a spasmodic effort, which exhausts the 
 purse or the hospitality of the entertainer, and is fol 
 lowed by a collapse of retrenchment. You recollect 
 
 , who staid at my house, during a fit of illness, for 
 
 six weeks, the year before last. He has a fine house, 
 the inside of which looks like an upholsterer's shop, and 
 lives in style. He gave me an invitation to dinner, at 
 a fortnight's notice, where I ate out of a set of China, 
 my lady assured me cost seven hundred dollars, and 
 drank out of glasses that cost a guinea a piece. In 
 short, there was nothing on the table of which I did not 
 learn the value, most especially the wine, some of which 
 mine entertainer gave the company his word of honour, 
 stood him in eight dollars a bottle, besides the inte 
 rest, and was half a century old. I observed very 
 gravely, that it bore its age so remarkably well, that I 
 really took it to be in the full vigour of youth. Upon 
 which all the company set me down as a bore. 
 
 In place of the pleasant chit-chat and honest jollity of 
 3 
 
26 
 
 better times, there was nothing talked of but the quality 
 of the gentleman's wines, which I observed were esti 
 mated entirely by their age and prices. One boasted 
 of his Bingham, another of his Marston ; a third of his 
 Nabob, and a fourth of his Billy Ludlow. All this was 
 Greek to me, who was obliged to sit stupidly silent, ha 
 ving neither Bingham, nor Marston, nor Nabob, nor 
 Billy liudlow ; nor indeed any other wine of name or 
 pedigree : for the fact is, as you very well know, my 
 wine goes so fast, it has no time to grow old. 
 
 But there was one pursy, pompous little man at table, 
 a foreigner, I think, who my lady whispered me was 
 worth a million and a half of dollars, who beat the others 
 all hollow. He actually had in his garret a dozen of 
 wine seventy years old, last grass, that had been in his 
 family fifty years which by the way, as a sly neighbour 
 on my right assured me, was farther back than he could 
 carry his own pedigree. This seemed to raise him 
 high above all competition, and gave great effect to seve 
 ral of the very worst jokes I ever heard. It occurred to 
 me, however, that his friends had been little the better 
 for the wine thus hoarded to brag about. For my part, 
 I never yet met a real honest, liberal, hospitable fellow 
 that had much old wine. Occasionally the conversa* 
 tion varied into discussions as to who was the best 
 judge of wine, and there was a serious contest about a 
 bottle of Bingham and a bottle of Marston, which I was 
 afraid would end in a duel. All, however, bowed to the 
 supremacy of one particular old gentleman, who made 
 a bet that he would shut his eyes, hold his nose, and 
 distinguish between six different kinds of Madeira. I 
 
27 
 
 clid not think much of this, as a man dont drink wine 
 either with his eyes or nose ; but politely expressed my 
 wonder, and smacked my lips, and cried, "Ah!" in 
 unison with this Winckelman of wine bibbers, like a 
 veritable connoisseur. 
 
 There can be no doubt these dinners are genteel and 
 splendid, because every body here says so. But be 
 tween ourselves, major, I was ennui in spite of Bing- 
 ham and Marston, and the Nabob. There wanted the 
 zest, the ease, the loose gown and slippers, the elbow 
 room for the buoyant, frisky spirits to curvet and gam 
 bol a little ; without which your Bingham and canvass 
 backs, are naught. In the midst of all this display, 1 
 sighed for bacon and greens and merry faces.* As I 
 am a Christian gentleman, there was not the tithe of a 
 good thing said at the table, and to my mind, eating and 
 drinking good things is nothing without a little accom 
 panying wit and humour as sauce. The little pursy, 
 important man of a million, it is true succeeded several 
 times in raising a laugh, by the weight of his purse 
 rather than the point of his joke. The dinner lasted 
 six hours, at the end of which, the company was more 
 silent than at the beginning, a sure sign of something 
 being wanting. For my part, I may truly affirm, 1 
 never was at a more splendid dinner, or one more mor 
 tally dull. However my friend paid his debt of hospi 
 tality by it, for I have not seen the inside of his house 
 since. He apologizes for not paying me any more 
 
 * It is plain the colonel knows nothing of Tournure. Bacon an.fl 
 greens stuff! 
 
28 
 
 attention, by saying his house is all topsy-turvy, witii 
 new papering and painting, but assures me that by the 
 time we return in autumn madam will be in a condition 
 to give us a little party. I believe he holds me cheap 
 because I have no dear wine that stands me in eight 
 dollars a bottle. 
 
 'Tis the fashion of the times, so let it pass. But 
 fashion or not, nothing in the range of common sense, 
 can rescue this habit of cumbrous display, and clumsy 
 ostentation, from the reproach of bad taste and vulga 
 rity. This loading of the table with costly finery and 
 challenging our admiration by giving us the price of each 
 article ; this boasting of the age, the goodness, and 
 above all the cost of the wine, is little better than telling 
 the guests, they are neither judges of what is valuable in 
 furniture, nor commendable in wines. Why not let 
 them find these things out themselves ; or remain in 
 most happy ignorance of the value of a set of China, and 
 the age of a bottle of wine. It is for the tradesman to 
 brag of his wares, and the wine merchant of his wines, 
 because they wish to sell them ; but the giver of good 
 things should never overwhelm the receiver with the 
 weight of gratitude by telling him their value. 
 
 From the dinner party, which broke up at nine, 1 
 accompanied the young people to a tea party, being de 
 sirous of shaking off the heaviness of that modern merry 
 making. We arrived about a quarter before ten, and found 
 the servant just lighting the lamps. There was not a soul 
 in the room but him. He assured me the lady would be 
 down to receive us in half an hour, being then under the 
 hands of Monsieur Manuel, the hair dresser, who was en- 
 
29 
 
 gaged till nine o'clock with other ladies. You must know 
 this Manuel is the fashionable hair dresser of the city, 
 and it is not uncommon for ladies to get their heads 
 dressed the day before they are wanted, and sit up all 
 night to preserve them in their proper buckram rigidity. 
 Monsieur Manuel, as I hear, has two dollars per head, 
 besides a dollar for coach hire, it being utterly impos 
 sible for monsieur to walk. His time is too precious. 
 
 We had plenty of leisure to admire the rooms and de 
 corations, for Monsieur Manuel was in no hurry. I 
 took a nap on the sopha, under a superb lustre which 
 shed a quantity of its honours upon my best merino 
 coat, sprinkling it handsomely with spermaceti. About 
 half past ten the lady entered in all the colours of the 
 rainbow, and all the extravagance of vulgar finery. I 
 took particular notice of her head, which beyond doubt, 
 was the master piece of Monsieur Manuel. It was 
 divested of all its natural features, which I suppose is 
 the perfection of art. There was nothing about it 
 which looked like hair, except it was petrified hair. All 
 the graceful waving lightness of this most beautiful gift 
 of woman, was lost in curls stiff and ungraceful as de 
 formity could make them, and hair plastered to the head 
 till it glistened like an overheated " gentleman of colour." 
 She made something like an apology for not being ready 
 to receive us, which turned however pretty much on not 
 expecting any company at such an early hour. Between 
 ten and eleven the company began to drop in ; but the 
 real fashionables did not arrive till about half past eleven* 
 by which time the room was pretty well filled. It was 
 what they call a conversation party, one at which there 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 was neither cards nor dancing ; of course I expected t& 
 enjoy some agreeable chit-chat. Old bachelor as I am ? 
 and for ladies' love unfit, still I delight in the smiles of 
 beauty, and the music of a sweet voice speaking intelli 
 gence is to me sweeter than the harmony of the spheres? 
 or the Italian opera. 
 
 Accordingly, I made interest for introductions to two 
 or three of the most promising faces, and attempted a 
 little small talk. The first of these commenced by 
 asking me in a voice that almost made me jump out of 
 my seat, if I had been at Mrs. Somebody's party last 
 week 1 To the which I replied in the negative. After 
 a moment's pause, she asked me if I was going to Mrs- 
 Somebody's party the next evening 1 To the which, in 
 like manner, I replied in the negative. Another pause, 
 and another question, whether I was acquainted with 
 another Mrs. Somebody, who was going to give a par 
 ty ? To this I was obliged to give another negation ; 
 when the young lady espying a vacant seat in a corner 
 on the opposite side, took flight without ceremony, and 
 by a puss-in-the-comer movement, seated herself be 
 side another young lady, with whom she entered into 
 conversation with a most interesting volubility. 
 
 Though somewhat discouraged, I tried my fortune a 
 second time, with a pale, delicate, and interesting look 
 ing little girl, who I had fancied to myself was of 
 ethereal race and lived upon air, she looked so light and 
 graceful. By way of entering wedge, I asked her the 
 name of a lady, who, by the bye, had nothing very par 
 ticular about her, except her dress, which was extrava 
 gantly fine. My imaginary sylph began to expatiate 
 
31 
 
 upon its beauty and taste in a most eloquent manner ? 
 and concluded by saying : " But its a pity she wears it 
 so often." Why so 1 " O why because." Is it the 
 worse for wear 1 "0 dear no ; but then one sees it so 
 often." But if 'tis handsome, the oftener the better, I 
 should think ; beauty cannot be too often contemplated, 
 said I, looking in her face rather significantly. What 
 effect this might have had upon her I cant say, for just 
 then, I observed a mysterious agitation among the com 
 pany, which was immediately followed by the appear 
 ance of a number of little tables wheeled into the room 
 by servants in great force, and covered with splendid ser 
 vices of China, filled with pickled oysters, oyster soup, 
 celery, dressed lobsters, ducks, turkeys, pastry, con 
 fectionary, and the Lord knows what besides. My lit 
 tle ethereal upon this started up, and seated herself at 
 a little round marble table, which was placed in the mid 
 dle of the room, and commenced her supper, by the aid 
 of two obsequious swains, who waited on her with the 
 spoils of the grand table. I never could bear to see a 
 young woman eat when I was a young man, and I have 
 never seen above half a dozen ladies, who knew how to 
 eat with a proper degree of sentimental indifference. 
 It is at the best but a vulgar, earthly, matter of fact busi 
 ness, and brings all people on a level, belles and beaux, 
 refined and not refined. It is in fact, a sheer animal 
 gratification, and a young damsel should never, if pos 
 sible, let her lover see her eat, until after marriage. 
 
 Now, major, let me premise, that I am not going to 
 romance one tittle when I tell you I was astounded at 
 the trencher feats of my little sylph like ethereal. It 
 
32 
 
 was not in the spirit of ill natured espionage, I assure 
 you, that I happened to look at her as she took her seat 
 at the little round table ; but having once looked, I was 
 fascinated to the spot. Here follows a bill of fare which 
 she discussed, and I am willing to swear to every item. 
 
 Imprimis Pickled oysters. 
 
 Item Oyster soup. 
 
 Item Dressed lobster and celery. 
 
 Item Two jellies. 
 
 Item Macaronies. 
 
 Item Kisses. 
 
 Item Whip syllabub. 
 
 Item Blanc mange. 
 
 Item Ice creams. 
 
 Item Floating island. 
 
 Item Alamode beef. 
 
 Item Cold turkey. 
 
 Item A partridge wing. 
 
 Item Roast duck and onions. 
 
 Item Three glasses of brown stout, &c. &<5, 
 Do you remember the fairy tale where a man eats an 
 much bread in a quarter of an hour as "served a whole 
 city] I never believed a word of it till now. But all this 
 is vulgar you will say. Even so ; but the vulgarity con 
 sists in eating so horrifically, not in noticing it. The thing 
 is intrinsically ill bred, and should this practice continue to 
 gain ground, there is not the least doubt that the number 
 of old bachelors and maidens will continue to increase 
 and multiply in a manner quite contrary to Scripture. To 
 conclude this heart rending subject, I venture to affirm* 
 that assemblages of this kind, ought to be called eating, 
 
instead of tea drinking, or conversation parties. Their 
 relative excellence and attraction is always estimated 
 among the really fashionable, refined people, by the 
 quality and quantity of the eatables and drinkables. One 
 great requisite, is plenty of oysters ; but the sine qua non* 
 is oceans of champagne. Master Stephen, who is high 
 authority in a case of this sort, pronounced this party quite 
 unexceptionable, for there was little conversation, a great 
 deal of eating, and the champagne so plenty, that nine 
 first rate dandies including himself, got so merry, that 
 they fell fast asleep on the benches of the supper table 
 up stairs. I can answer for king Stephen, who was dis 
 covered, in this situation at three in the morning when 
 the fashionables began to think of going home. 
 
 For my part, major, I honestly confess, I was again 
 ennui, even unto yawning desperately in the very teeth of 
 beauty. But I dont lay it altogether to the charge of 
 the party, being somewhat inclined to suspect the jokes 
 df the little man of a million, and the Bingham wine were 
 partly at the bottom of the business. I wonder how it 
 came into the heads of people of a moderate common 
 sense, that old wine, could ever make people feel young 
 and consequently merry. There is gout, past, present 
 and future gout personal, real and hereditary, lurking 
 at the bottom of old wine ; and nothing can possibly 
 prevent this universal consequence of drinking it, but a 
 natural and incurable vulgarity of constitution, which 
 cannot assimilate itself to a disease of such genteel 
 prigin. 
 
 I have since been at several of these first rate fash-* 
 ionable conversationes, where there was almost the samo 
 
34 
 
 company, the same eatables and drinkables, and the same 
 lack of pleasing and vivacious chit-chat. I sidled up 
 to several little groups, whose loud laugh and promising 
 gestures, induced me to believe, there was something 
 pleasant going on. But I assure you nothing could 
 equal the vapid insignificance of their talk. There 
 was nothing in it, but " La, were you at the ball last 
 night ?" and 'then an obstreperous roar of ill bred, 
 noisy laughter. There is no harm in people talking in 
 this way, but it is a cruel deceit upon the unwary, to 
 allure a man into listening. In making my observa 
 tions, it struck me, that many of the young ladies look 
 ed sleepy, and the elderly ones did certainly yawn most 
 unmercifully. There was at one of these polite stuff 
 ings, an elderly lady, between whose jaws and mine a 
 most desperate sympathy grew up and flourished. Our 
 mouths if not our eyes, may truly be said to have met in 
 this accord of inanity, and twenty times in the course of 
 the evening did we involuntarily exchange these tokens 
 of mutual good understanding. The next party we hap 
 pened to meet at, I determined to practise the most re 
 solute self denial ; but it would not do ; there was an 
 awful and irresistible attraction about the maelstrom of 
 her mouth, that drew me toward its vortex, and we have 
 continued to yawn at each other whenever we have met 
 since. Wherever I turn my eyes, the cavern opes be 
 fore me, and my old habit of yawning has become ten 
 times more rife than ever. 
 
 But seriously speaking, it is not to be wondered at, 
 that the indefatigable votaries of fashion should look 
 sleepy at these parties. Some of them have sat up all 
 
35 
 
 tlie night before perhaps, in order not to discompose the 
 awful curls of Monsieur Manuel. Others, and I am 
 told the major part of them, have been at parties five 
 nights in the week, for two or three months past. You 
 will recollect, that owing to the absurd and ridiculous 
 aping of foreign whims and fashions, these evening par 
 ties do not commence till the evening is past, nor end 
 till the morning is come. Hence it is impossible to go 
 to one of them, without losing a whole night's rest^ 
 which is to be made up, by lying in bed the greater part 
 of the next day. Such a course for a whole season, 
 must wither the physical and moral strength, and con 
 vert a young woman into a mere machine, to be wound 
 up for a few hours by the artificial excitements of the 
 splendours of wealth, the vain gratification of tempo 
 rary admiration, or the more substantial stimulus of the 
 bill of fare, of the sylph ethereal aforesaid. It is no 
 Wonder their persons are jaded, their eyes sunk, their 
 chests flattened, their sprightliness repressed by mid 
 night revels, night after night, and that they supply the 
 absence of all these, by artificial allurements of dress, 
 and artificial pulmonic vivacity. You will wonder to 
 hear a chivalrous old bachelor rail at this ill natured 
 fate. But the truth is, I admire the last best work so 
 fervently, that I cant endure to see it spoiled and so 
 phisticated, by a preposterous imitation of what is call 
 ed the fashion ; and so love the native charms of our 
 native beauties, that it grieves my heart and rouses my 
 ire to see them thus blighted, withered and destroyed 
 in the midnight chase of a phantom miscalled plea*- 
 sure> 
 
36 
 
 Not three years ago, I am told, it was the custom to 
 go to a party at eight, and come away at twelve, or 
 sooner. By this sober and rational arrangement, a 
 young lady might indulge in the very excess of fashion 
 able dissipation, without absolutely withering the roses 
 of her cheeks, and dying at thirty of premature old age. 
 But in an evil hour, some puppy, who, like my Master 
 Stephen, had seen the world, or some silly woman, that 
 had been three months abroad, came home, and turned 
 up the nose at these early vulgarities told how the 
 fashionable parties began at midnight, and ended at sun 
 rise and that they all laughed at the vulgar hours of 
 the vulgar parties of the vulgar republicans. This was 
 enough ; Mistress Somebody, the wife of Mr. Such a 
 one, who had a fine house in a certain street, " with 
 folding doors and marble mantel pieces," and all that 
 sort of thing, set the fashion, and now the gentility of 
 a party is estimated in no small degree by the hour. If 
 you want to be tolerably genteel, you must not go till 
 half past nine if very genteel, at ten if exceedingly 
 genteel, at eleven ; but if you want to be superla 
 tively genteel, you must not make your appearance 
 till twelve. 
 
 The crying absurdity of this arrangement, in a so 
 ciety where almost every person at these parties, has 
 business or duties of some kind to attend to by nine 
 o'clock the next day, must be apparent. The whole 
 thing is at war with the state of society here, and in 
 compatible with the system of domestic arrangements, 
 and out door business. It is a pitiful aping of people 
 abroad, whose sole pursuit is pleasure, and who can 
 
37 
 
 turn day into night, and night into day, without paying 
 any other penalty but the loss of health, and the aban 
 donment of all pretensions to usefulness. If our tra 
 velled gentry cannot bring home something more valua 
 ble than these mischievous absurdities, they had better 
 stay at home. They remind me of our good friend 
 Sloper, who spent seven years travelling in the east, and 
 brought nothing home with him but an excellent mode 
 of spoiling rice and chickens, by cooking them after the 
 Arabian fashion. 
 
 Among the most disgusting of these importations is, 
 the fashion of waltzing, which is becoming common 
 here of late. It was introduced as I understand, by a 
 party of would be fashionables, that saw it practised at 
 the operas, with such enchanting langour, grace and 
 lasciviousness, that they fell in love with it, and deter 
 mined to bless their country by transplanting the pre 
 cious exotic. I would not be understood to censure 
 those nations among whom the waltz is, as it were, in 
 digenous a national dance. Habit, example and prac 
 tice from their earliest youth, accustom the women of 
 these countries to the exhibition, and excuse it. But 
 for an American woman, with all her habits and opi 
 nions already formed, accustomed to certain restraints, 
 and brought up with certain notions of propriety, to rush 
 at once into a waltz, to brave the just sentiment of the 
 delicate of her own and the other sex, with whom she 
 has been brought up, and continues to associate, is little 
 creditable to her good sense, her delicacy or her morals. 
 Every woman does, or ought to know, that she cannot 
 exhibit herself in the whirling and lascivious windings 
 4 
 
38 
 
 of a waltz, without calling up in the minds of men, 
 feelings and associations unworthy the dignity and pu 
 rity of a delicate female. The lascivious motions the 
 up turned eyes the die away languors the dizzy cir- 
 clings the twining arms and projecting front all 
 combine to waken in the bosom of the spectators an 
 alogies, associations, and passions, which no woman, 
 who values the respect of the world, ought ever wilfully 
 challenge or excite. 
 
 I must not forget one thing that amused me, amid all 
 this aping and ostentation. I was at first struck \Vith 
 the profusion of servants, lamps, and China, and silver 
 forks at these parties, and could not help admiring the 
 magnificence of the entertainer, as well as his wealth. 
 But by degrees, it began to strike me, that I had seen 
 these things before ; and at last I fairly detected a splen 
 did tureen, together with divers elegant chandeliers and 
 lamps, which I had actually admired the night before at 
 a party in another part of the town. As to my old 
 friend Simon, and his squires of the body, he and I are 
 hand and glove. I see him and his people, and the tu 
 reen, and the China, and the lampb> every where. They 
 are all hired, in imitation of the fashionable people 
 abroad.. They undertake for every thing here, from 
 furnishing a party, to burying a Christian. I cant help 
 thinking it is a paltry attempt at style. But adieu, for 
 the present. I am tired are not you ? 
 
 If ever the pure and perfect system of equality was 
 completely exemplified upon earth, it will be found in 
 New York, where it is the fashion to dress without any 
 
39 
 
 regard to time, place, or purse. There is no place 
 where the absurd, antiquated maxim of " cutting your 
 coat according to your cloth," is so properly and con 
 summately cut, as here, where a full dress is indispen 
 sable on all occasions, particularly in walking Broadway 
 or going to church. Whoever wishes to see beauty in all 
 its glory, must walk Broadway of a morning, or visit a 
 fashionable church for there is a fashion in churches 
 on a fine Sunday. On these occasions it is delightfully 
 refreshing to see a fashionable, looking like a ship on a 
 gala day, dressed in the flags of all nations. Many 
 cynical blockheads, who are at least a hundred years 
 behind the march of mind and the progress of public 
 improvements, aifect to say this beautiful and florid 
 style of dressing in the streets or at church is vulgar ; 
 but we denounce such flagrant fopperies of opinion, 
 maintaining that so far from being reprehensible, it is 
 perfectly natural, and therefore perfectly proper. The 
 love of finery is inherent in our nature ; it is appetitus 
 innatus and all experience indicates that the more 
 ignorant, unsophisticated people are, the more fond are 
 they of finery. The negro, (meaning no offence, as it 
 is an illustration, not a comparison,) the African negro, 
 adores a painted gourd, decked with feathers of all 
 colours ; the Nooaheevians affect the splendours of a 
 great whale's tooth ; the Esquimaux will starve them 
 selves to purchase a clam shell of red paint ; the In 
 dians sell their lands for red leggins and tin medals ; 
 and the whites run in debt for birds of Paradise, French 
 hats, training chains, and Cashmere shawls. All this is 
 as it should be, and so far from betokening effeminacy 
 
40 
 
 or undue refinement, is an infallible indication of at* 
 approach to the primitive simplicity of nature. 
 
 This barbarous, or more properly natural taste or 
 passion for finery pervades all classes of people in this 
 delightful city, and if there is any superiority of dress 
 observable, it is among the most vulgar and ignorant ; 
 in other words those who are nearest to a state of na 
 ture. The maid is, if possible, finer than the mistress ; 
 displays as many feathers, and flowers, and exhibits the 
 same rigidity of baked curls, so that in walking the 
 streets, were it not for that infallible private mark of a 
 gentlewoman, the foot and ancle, nobody but then- 
 friends could tell the difference. There are, as we have 
 been credibly informed, Lombard and Banking Compa 
 nies incorporated by the legislature, on purpose to main 
 tain this beautiful equality in dress, every article of which 
 from a worked muslin to a lace veil, may be hired " at 
 prices to accommodate customers," and a fine lady fitted 
 out for a cruise, at a minute's warning. 
 
 This beautiful exemplification of a perfect equality, 
 extends to the male class also. He that brushes his 
 master's coat, often wears a better coat than his master ; 
 and Cuifee himself, the free gentleman of colour, struts 
 up and down Broadway, arm in arm, four abreast, 
 elbowing the fine ladies, clothed from head to foot in 
 regent's cloth of fourteen dollars a yard. All this re 
 dounds unutterably to the renown of the city, and causes 
 it to be the delight of sojourners and travellers, who in 
 stead of having their eyes offended and their feelings 
 outraged by exhibitions of inglorious linsey* woolsey, 
 and vulgar calico, sec nothing all around them but a 
 
41 
 
 ruiiversal diffusion of happiness. What is it to us tourists 
 where the money comes from, or who pays for all this 1 
 The records of bankruptcy, and the annals of the police, 
 are not the polite studies of us men of pleasure, nor 
 have we any concern with the insides of houses, or the 
 secrets of domestic life, so long as the streets look gay, 
 and every body in them seems happy. What is it 
 to us, if the husband or the father of the gay butterfly 
 we admire, as she flutters along, clothed in the spoils of 
 the four quarters of the globe, is at that very moment 
 shivering in the jaws of bankruptcy, perspiring out his 
 harassed soul in inward anxieties to weather another day 
 of miserable splendours, and resorting to all the mean, 
 degrading expedients of the times to deceive the world 
 a little longer. The city is charming the theatres and 
 churches full of splendours ; the hotels and boarding 
 houses abound in all that can pamper the appetite ; the 
 habitations all splendidly furnished ; all that we see is 
 delightful ; and as to what we dont see, it exists not to 
 us. We travellers belong to the world, and the world 
 with the exception of its cares and troubles, belongs 
 to us. 
 
 But as there is a highly meritorious class of travel 
 lers, who are almost continually in motion, and never 
 stay long in one place, if they can help it, to whom it 
 may be important to know the secrets of the art of 
 living, as the butterflies do, without toiling or spinning, 
 and tasting all the fruits of the field, without having 
 any fields themselves, we commend them to the records 
 of bankruptcy, the police, and the quarter sessions. It 
 is there they will become adepts in this most important 
 4* 
 
42 
 
 of all branches of human knowledge. Any fool may 
 live by working and saving but to live, and live well 
 too, by idleness and unthrift to enjoy the luxuries of 
 taverns, fine clothes, canvass backs, turtle soup, and 
 Bingham wine, without money, and without credit, is 
 the summum bonum, and can only be attained by long 
 experience, and a close attendance upon the police. If 
 High Constable Hays, would only give to the world, 
 agreeably to the fashion of the times, his " Reminis 
 cences," what a treasure they would be to the class of 
 tourists we are addressing ! There they might behold 
 the grand drama of life behind the scenes, and under 
 the stage ; there they might learn how to dress ele 
 gantly at the expense of those stupid blockheads who 
 prefer living by the sweat of their own brows, to living 
 by the sweat of those of other people ; there they 
 would be taught by a thousand examples, not how to 
 cut their coats according to their own cloth, but that of 
 their neighbours, and learn how easy it is to be a fine 
 gentleman that is to say, to live at a hotel, get credit 
 with a tailor, diddle the landlord and the doctor, pick a 
 few pockets and a few locks, by way of furnishing him 
 self with a watch and a diamond breast pin. There too 
 he would learn how a little staining of the whiskers, a 
 new wig, and an alias, enables a man to come forth, 
 from the state prison, "redeemed, regenerated, and 
 disenthralled, by the irresistible genius of universal" 
 philanthropy. Seriously therefore do we hope the high 
 constable will employ his otium cum dignitate, in a work 
 of this kind, for the benefit of the inexperienced in the 
 art of raising the wind. 
 
43 
 
 But to return from this digression, which we have in 
 dulged in from motives of pure philanthropy. And 
 we shall frequently in the course of this work, encou 
 rage these little excursive irregularities of the pen, be 
 ing firmly of opinion that no person ought to make the 
 grand northern tour who has any better use for his mo 
 ney than buying, or for his time, than in reading this 
 book. 
 
 In New York there is an inexhaustible round of 
 amusements, for every hour of the day as well as the 
 night. There is the Academy of Arts, where the ama 
 teur of painting may see pictures which cost more than 
 Domenichino received for his Communion of St. Je 
 rome, or Raphael for his master piece; and which, 
 strange to say, are not worth above half as much. No 
 thing is more easy than to kill an hour or two of a dull 
 morning at the academy, from whence we would advise 
 the intelligent tourist, if of the male species, to adjourn 
 to the far famed gastronomium, vernacular, oyster 
 stand of Jerry Duncan, who certainly opens an oyster 
 with more grace and tournure than any man living. But 
 alas ! how few how very few in this degenerate age 
 understand the glorious mysteries of eating. Some fry 
 their oysters in batter infamous custom ! Some so 
 phisticate them with pepper and salt that ought to be 
 a state prison offence ! .Some with vinegar and butter 
 away with them to the tread mill ! Others stew, broil, 
 roast, or make them into villanous pies hard labour 
 for life, or solitary imprisonment, ought to be the lot of 
 these ! And others, O murder most foul ! cut them in 
 two before they eat them ; a practice held in utter ab- 
 
44 
 
 horrence by all persons of common humanity this 
 ought to be death by the law. As our reader loves oy 
 sters as he aspires to become an adept in the great 
 science as he hopes to be saved let him never cut 
 his oyster in two pieces, or eat it otherwise than raw. 
 If his mouth is not large enough to swallow it whole, 
 let him leave it with a sigh to the lips of some more 
 fortunate being, to whom nature has been more boun 
 tiful. A reasonable sojourn at Jerry's, will bring round 
 the hour to one o'clock, when it is proper to take the 
 field in Broadway, or at least to go home and prepare 
 for that solemn occasion. From this till dinner, the in 
 telligent tourist can employ his time to great advantage, 
 in walking back and forth from the Battery to the south 
 corner of Chamber Street. Beyond this he must riot 
 stir a step, as all besides is vulgar, terra incognita to the 
 fashionable world. People will think you are going to 
 Cheapside, or Bond Street, or Hudson Square, or some 
 other haberdashery place, to buy bargains, if you are 
 found beyond the north corner of the Park. At three, 
 return to your lodgings to dress for dinner : these must 
 positively be in Broadway, in one of those majestic old 
 houses, which the piety of young heirs consecrates to 
 the god of eating, in honour of their fathers. We are 
 not ignorant that some ill natured people affirm this is 
 not their motive but that they are actuated by the filthy 
 lucre of gain, in thus turning their father's home into a 
 den of tourists ; but we ourselves are fully convinced 
 they are impelled by sheer public spirit, warmed by the 
 irresistible effervescence of universal philanthropy, the 
 warmth of which pervades this whole city, insomuch 
 
45 
 
 that there is scarcely a place extant where people are 
 more cordially taken in. Let no one blame these pious 
 young heirs, since in the east, nobody but kings and 
 saints built caravanseraes for the accommodation of 
 travellers ; and in the west, none but people of a pious 
 and royal spirit erect taverns. The only difference is, 
 and it is not very material, the caravanseraes charge 
 nothing for lodging travellers, and the taverns make 
 them pay double. 
 
 And now comes the hour the most important hour, 
 between the cradle and the grave THE DINNER HOUR ! 
 On this head it is necessary to be particular. Look out 
 for the sheep's head, the venison, the canvass backs. 
 Dont let your eyes any more than your mouth be idle a 
 moment ; but be careful not to waste your energies on 
 common-place dishes. First eat your soup as quick as 
 possible without burning your mouth. Then your fish 
 then your venison then your miscellaneous delights 
 and conclude with game. At the climax comes 
 the immortal canvass back, whose peculiar location to 
 the south,* in our opinion gives a decided superiority to 
 that favoured portion of the universe ; and entitles it to 
 furnish the less favoured parts of the United States with 
 presidents, so long as it furnishes us with canvass backs. 
 From our souls, which according to some good authori 
 ties are seated in the palate from our souls we pity the 
 wretched inhabitants of the old world wretched in the 
 absence of any tolerable oysters, and wretched beyond 
 
 * We have heard that canvass backs have been seen in Rhode 
 Island. If they can prove this, we think they ought to furnish the 
 next president. 
 
 
46 
 
 all wretchedness in the utter destitution of canvass 
 backs, and Newtown pippins. 
 
 Respecting wines there is some diversity of opinion. 
 Some prefer French wines, such as Burgundy, Chateau, 
 Margaux, La Fitte, Latour, Sauterne, and Sillery. 
 Others affect the purple and amber juices of the Rhine, 
 affirming that in HOC signo vinces ; and that the real 
 Johannisberg is inimitable. Others again prefer the 
 more substantial product of Spain, Portugal, and the 
 veritable Hesperides the group of the Madeiras 
 maintaining that the existence of the people of this 
 world, before the discovery of these last, is one of those 
 miracles not to be accounted for, like that of a toad in 
 a block of marble. As there is no such thing as ac 
 counting for tastes, or reconciling them, we would pro 
 pose an amicable medium, that of sipping a little of each, 
 in the course of the afternoon, thus reconciling the con 
 flicting claims of these most exquisite competitors. A 
 bottle of each would be rather too much for the head or 
 pocket of a single amateur, wherefore we would recom 
 mend some half a dozen to club their wines, by which 
 means this objection would be obviated. By the time 
 these ceremonies are got through, the company will be 
 in a condition to adjourn to the theatres, with a proper 
 zest for the Flying Dutchman, Peter Wilkins, and " I've 
 been roaming." After sitting or sleeping out these ele 
 gant spectacles, it is reasonable to suppose our traveller 
 will be hungry, and being hungry, it is reasonable that 
 he should eat. Wherefore it is our serious advice that 
 he adjourn forthwith to the Goose and Gridiron, where 
 after partaking of a good supper, he may go any wjiere 
 
47 
 
 he pleases, except home, it being proper that a rational 
 and enlightened traveller should make the most of his 
 time. 
 
 To the young female tourist, whose time and papa's 
 money are an incumbrance, New-York affords inex 
 haustible resources. The mere amusement of dressing 
 for breakfast, for Broadway, and for dinner, and undress 
 ing for evening parties, is a never failing refuge from 
 ennui. In the intervals between dressing, shopping, 
 visiting and receiving visits, it is advisable for her, if 
 she is fond of retirement and literary pursuits, to seat 
 herself at one of the front windows, on the ground floor 
 of the hotel, with a Waverley or a Cooper, where she 
 ean do as we have seen people do in divers old fashioned 
 pictures, hold her book open, and at the same time com 
 placently contemplate the spectators. The following 
 list of " Resources," is confidently recommended to 
 our female travelling readers. 
 
 Lying in bed till ten. 
 
 Dressing for breakfast. N. B. If there is nobody to 
 the hotel worth dressing for, any thing will do or bet 
 ter take breakfast in bed, and another nap. 
 
 Breakfast till eleven. N. B. It is not advisable to 
 eat canvass backs, oysters, or lobsters at breakfast. A 
 little smoked salmon, a little frizzled beef, or a little bit 
 of chicken about as big as a bee's wing, is all that can 
 safely be indulged. N. B. Beef steaks and mutton 
 chops are wholly inadmissible except for married ladies. 
 
 Twelve to one. Dress for shopping. N. B. The 
 female tourist must put on her best, it being the fashion 
 in New York, for ladies and their maids to dress for 
 walking as if they were going to church or a ball. Care 
 
48 
 
 must be taken to guard against damp pavements, by 
 putting on prunelle shoes. If the weather is dry, white 
 satin is preferable. 
 
 One till three. Sauntering up and down Broadway, 
 and diversifying the pleasure by a little miscellaneous 
 shopping looking in at the milliners, the jewellers, &c. 
 N. B. No lady should hesitate to buy any thing because 
 she dont want it, since this dealing in superfluities is 
 the very essence of every thing genteel. Above all, 
 never return home but with an empty purse. 
 
 At three, the brokers, who set the fashion in New 
 York, go home to their canvass backs, and Bingham 
 wine, and it becomes vulgar to be seen in Broadway. 
 
 Dinner at four, the earliest hour permitted among 
 people of pretensions. Owing to the barbarous prac 
 tice of banishing ladies from all participation in the 
 learned discussions of wines, the period between dinner, 
 and dressing for the evening party, is the most trying 
 portion of female existence. If they walk in Broadway, 
 they will see nobody worth seeing ; of course, there is 
 no use in walking. A nap, or a Waverley, or perhaps 
 both, is the only resource. 
 
 It will be expedient to wake up at eight, for the pur 
 pose of dressing for a party, else there is no earthly rea 
 son why you may not sleep till half past ten or eleven, 
 when it is time to think of going, or you may possibly 
 miss some of the refreshments. N. B. A lady may eat 
 as much as she pleases at a ball, or a conversatione. 
 
 Should there be no party for the evening, ^he theatres 
 are a never failing resource of intellectual enjoyment. 
 The sublime actions of the Flying Dutchman, and 
 Peter Wilkins, and the sublime displays in " I've been 
 
49 
 
 roaming," cannot fail to enlighten the understanding, 
 refine the taste, and improve the morals of all the rising 
 generation, in an equal if not greater degree, than 
 bridewell or the penitentiary. N. B. The bashful 
 ladies generally shut both their eyes, at " Pve been 
 roaming." Those who retain a fragment of the faculty 
 of blushing, only open one eye ; but such as are afraid 
 of nothing, use a quizzing glass that nothing may escape 
 them. 
 
 But after all there is nobody that can do full justice to 
 the ever changing shadows and lights of fashionable 
 dress, manners and amusements, but a young female, 
 just come out with all her soaring anticipations unclipt 
 by experience, and all her capacities of enjoyment, fresh 
 and unsoiled. We will therefore take occasion to insert 
 in this place two letters, written by a young lady of the 
 party, from whose correspondence, we have already 
 made such liberal selections. 
 
 LUCIA CCLPEPER TO MARIA MEYNELL. 
 
 New York, . 
 
 MY DEAR MARIA, I could live here forever. We 
 have a charming suit of rooms fronting on Broadway, 
 that would be a perfect Paradise, were it not for the 
 noise which prevents one's hearing oneself speak, and 
 the dust which prevents one's seeing. But still it is 
 delightful to sit at the window with a Waverley, and see 
 the moving world forever passing to and fro, with un 
 ceasing footsteps. Every body appears to be in motion,, 
 and every thing else. The carriages rattle through the 
 streets ; the carts dance as if they were running races 
 5 
 
50 
 
 with them ; the ladies trip along in all the colours of the 
 rainbow ; and the gentlemen look as though they actually 
 had something to do. They all walk as if they were in 
 a hurry, and on my remarking this to my uncle, he re 
 plied in his usual sarcastic manner, " Yes, they all seem 
 as if they were running away from an indictment." I 
 did not comprehend what he meant. Every thing is so 
 different that it does not seem to me possible that I 
 should be in the same world, or that I am the same per 
 son I was a month ago. 
 
 Sitting at my window on the high hills of Santee, I saw 
 nothing but the repose, the stillness, and the majesty of 
 nature. At a distance, and all around, the world was 
 nothing but a waving outline of blue mountains that 
 Seemed almost incorporated with the skies. Nothing 
 moved around me but the mists of morning, rising at the 
 beck of the sun; the passing clouds; the waving foliage 
 of the trees ; the little river winding through the valley ; 
 and the sun riding athwart the heavens. The silence was 
 only interrupted at intervals by the voice or the whistle of 
 the blacks, about the house or in the fields ; the lowing 
 of the cattle wandering in the recesses of the hills ; the 
 echo of the hunter's gun, or the crash of the falling tree ; 
 the soft murmurings of the river under the window; and 
 sometimes the roaring of the whirlwind through the 
 forest, or the blow of the thunder upon the distant 
 rocks. My uncle was master of all that could be seen 
 without I mistress of all within. There all was na 
 ture here all is art. Every thing is made with hands, 
 except the living things ; and of these the ladies and 
 gentlemen may fairly be set down jrs the work 
 
51 
 
 milliners and tailors. Even the horses are sophisti-* 
 cated, as my uncle will have it ; and instead of long, 
 flowing tails and manes, amble about with ears, tail and 
 mane cropt, as if they had been under the hands of the 
 barber. 
 
 But when I look in the glass, it seems that not all the 
 changes of animate and inanimate nature, equal those I 
 exhibit in my own person. The morning after I can>3 
 here, I received a circular ; dont let your eyes start out 
 of your head, Maria yes, a circular ; and from whom 
 do you think ? Why, a milliner ! Only think what a 
 person of consequence I must be all at once. It in 
 formed me in the politest terms, that Madame 
 
 had just received an assortment of the latest Paris 
 fashions, which would be opened for inspection the next 
 day. I was determined to have the first choice of a 
 hat ; so I got up early and proceeded with Henney to 
 the milliner's rooms, which, to my great surprise, I found 
 full of fine ladies, who I afterwards understood had not 
 been up so early since the last fashionable exhibition of 
 Paris finery. You never saw such a crowd ; such 
 tumbling of silks and gauzes ; such perplexity of 
 choice ; such profound doubts ; such hesitating deci 
 sion ; such asking of every body's opinions, and follow 
 ing none ; and such lingering, endless examinations-. 
 There was one lady that tried on every hat in the place, 
 and went away at last in despair. I dont wonder, for it 
 was the choice of Hercules, not between two, but be 
 tween hundreds. For my part, I did nothing but wonder. 
 You never saw such curiosities as these Paris hats. It 
 is quite impossible to describe them ; I can only give you 
 
52 
 
 an idea of the size, by saying that mine, which is very 
 moderate, measures three feet across, and has a suit of 
 embellishments, bows, puffs, points, feathers, flowers, 
 and wheat sheaves, that make it look almost twice as 
 large. The rule is here, for the smallest ladies to wear 
 the largest hats, so that my uncle insists upon it they 
 look like toad stools, with a vast head and a little stem. 
 Mine was the cheapest thing ever offered for sale in 
 New York, as madame assured me ; it only cost twenty- 
 eight dollars. It would not go into the bandbox, so 
 Henney paraded it in her hand. A man on horseback 
 met her just as she was turning a corner, and the horse 
 was so frightened, that he reared backwards and came 
 very near throwing his rider. One of our horses is 
 lame, and my uncle has advertised for one that can 
 stand the encounter of a full dressed fine lady. If he 
 can do that, the old gentleman says he can stand any 
 thing. 
 
 The next thing I did, was to bespeak a couple of 
 walking dresses one of baptiste, the other of silk 
 plaid. They cost me only fifty-six dollars, which was 
 quite moderate, seeing they had, or were said to have in 
 the bill, ninety odd yards of one thing or another in them, 
 I believe I must drop my money in the street, for I am 
 almost ashamed to apply to my uncle so often. He 
 takes it all good humouredly, for he is a generous old 
 soul only he has his revenge by laughing at me, and 
 comparing me to all sorts of queer things. I was sur 
 prised when I first went out to see what beautiful curl 
 ing hair they all had ladies, ladies' maids, and little 
 babies, all had the most charming profusion you ever 
 
53 
 
 haw. This struck me very much, as you know very 
 few have curling hair to the south except the negroes. 
 And such curls, too ! dear me, Maria, it would make 
 your hair stand on end to see them. They look more 
 like sausages than any thing else and I thought to be 
 sure they must be starched. On expressing my admi 
 ration to Stephen, he laughed outrageously, and assured 
 me most solemnly, that every one of these sausages 
 was purchased not at the sausage makers, but at the 
 curl shops, where you could buy them either of horse 
 hair, mohair, or human hair, and of any size and colour 
 you pleased. He assured me it was impossible to live 
 without them five minutes in New York, and advised 
 me to procure a set without delay. You'd laugh to see 
 mine. They are as stiff as the powder and pomatum 
 of Doctor Brady's wig could make them : they are hol 
 low in the middle, which my uncle assures me is very 
 convenient, now that the ladies wear no pockets. One 
 can put a variety of small matters in them, as we did in 
 our muffs formerly. Do you know they bake them in 
 the oven to make them stiff. My uncle gives another 
 reason for it, which I wont tell you. 
 
 My bonnet and curls seem to have almost conquered 
 Stephen, who declares he has seen nothing equal to my 
 " costume," as he calls it, since he left Paris. He has 
 actually offered to walk with me in Broadway,, and did 
 us the honour to go with us to the theatre, one stormy 
 
 night. To be sure, Madame danced. You never saw 
 
 such droll capers, Maria : I declare I hardly knew which 
 way to look. But the ladies all applauded ; so I sup 
 pose I dont know what is proper, not having seen much 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 of the world. Stephen was in ecstacies, and bravoed 
 and encored, till my uncle bade him be quiet, and not 
 make a jackanapes of himself. I was delighted with the 
 theatre ; it is lighted with gas ; and the play was one of the 
 finest shows I ever beheld ; processions thunder and 
 lightning, and dancing fighting rich dresses a great 
 deal of fiddling, and very little poetry, wit, or sense. 
 I was a little disappointed at this but Stephen says, 
 nothing is considered so vulgar as a sensible, well writ 
 ten play. Music and dancing are all in all and as it. 
 is much easier to cut capers, and produce sounds with 
 out sense than with it, this is an excellent taste for it 
 saves a great deal of useless labour in writing plays, as 
 well as acting them properly. I sometimes think Ste 
 phen's notions are a little strange ; and my heart, as 
 well as my understanding, revolts at some of his deci 
 sions. But he has been abroad, and ought to know. 
 Sometimes I think I should like to know Graves' opi 
 nion : but he hardly ever speaks unless spoken to ; and 
 ever since I got such a great bonnet, and such great 
 curls, he scarcely seems to know me. As for my un* 
 cle, he dont make any secret of his opinions. But then 
 he is out of fashion ; and as I dont find any body agree 
 with him, I think he must be wrong. 
 
 Next week, we think of setting out for the springs. 
 My uncle has foresworn the steam boats, ever since our 
 voyage from Charleston. So we are to go by land up 
 the right bank of the Hudson, and return on the other 
 side, unless we should visit Boston, as my uncle some 
 times threatens. Good bye, my dear Maria ; I long to 
 see you :-~dont you long to see me, in my incomprehen- 
 
55 
 
 sible, indescribable hat, and my baked curls 1 Not to omit 
 my travelling chain, which is a gold cable of awful di 
 mensions ; without which no lady of any pretensions 
 can visit the springs. Alas ! poor woman ! born to be 
 the slave of a hundred task masters ; first, of the 
 boarding school, where she is put to the torture of the 
 dancing master and the school mistress ; next, to fash 
 ion, where she is obliged to appear a fool, rather than 
 be singular ; and worst of all, to her husband, the very 
 Nero of tyrants. Pray sometimes stop in, and see how 
 my old nurse Hannah gets on. Adieu. 
 
 P. S. I wish you could only hear that good na- 
 tured, pragmatical old soul, my kind, generous uncle, 
 rail at almost every thing he* hears and sees. He has 
 called himself an old fool fifty times a day, and says 
 that old people are like old trunks, which will do very 
 well while they are let alone in a corner, but never fail 
 to tumble to pieces if you move them. He pronounced 
 the steam boat a composition of horrors, such as mo 
 dern ingenuity, stimulated by paper money, stock com 
 panies, and I know not what, could alone produce ; and 
 congratulates himself continually upon living in a re 
 mote part of the country, where there are neither banks 
 nor incorporations, and where, as he says, indulgent 
 nature, by means of high mountains and other benevo 
 lent precautions, has made it actually impossible to in 
 trude either a canal or a rail road. Every time I come 
 to him for money, which indeed is pretty often, for I 
 have found out a hundred new wants since I came here, 
 he affects to scold me, and declares that unless the price 
 of cotton and rice rises, he shall be a pauper before the 
 
 
56 
 
 end of our journey. But what annoys him most of alt, 
 and indeed appears strange to me, is to see white men 
 performing the offices of negroes to the south waiting 
 at table, cleaning boots, brushing clothes, driving car 
 riages, and standing up behind them. He says this is 
 degrading the race of white men in the scale of nature, 
 and has had several hot discussions with an old quaker, 
 with whom he some where scraped acquaintance. Our 
 black man Juba, or gentleman of colour as they call 
 them here, is grown so vain at being sometimes waited 
 on by white men, that he is good for nothing but to pa 
 rade up and down Broadway. Henney says he is keep 
 ing a journal, and talks of making up to the old quaker's 
 daughter ; I suppose on the strength of the old gentle 
 man's arguments about equality. In short, my good 
 uncle calls me a baggage and Stephen a puppy, twenty 
 times a day. L. C. 
 
 LUCIA CtTLPEPER TO MARIA MEYNELL. 
 
 New York, . 
 
 MY DEAR MARIA, How I wish you were here to 
 help me enjoy all the fine things I see from morning till 
 night. You know I have no friends in this place, and 
 among all our party I can find no confidante but Hen 
 ney, who wonders ten times more than I do. My good 
 uncle, though a kind, generous, old soul, you know has 
 a habit of finding fault with every thing, and always ex 
 alting the past at the expense of the present, which to 
 young people, to whom the present time is every thing, 
 is quite odd. Graves is as grave as his name, and is 
 

 57 
 
 ail the time taken up with state prisons, alms houses, 
 houses of refuge, and all sorts of institutions for ma 
 king people wiser and better ; or as my uncle will have 
 it, idle and profligate. As for Stephen, he wont let me 
 admire any thing in peace. The moment I do so, he 
 comes upon me with a comparison with something in 
 Paris, Rome or London, which goes near to accuse me 
 of a total want of taste. If you believe him, there is 
 nothing worth seeing here, but what comes from abroad. 
 I am sure he'll never like me well enough to fulfil my 
 uncle's wishes, and that is my great comfort. For 
 alas ! Maria, I fear he has no heart ; and judging from 
 what comes out of it, but little head. I dont want a 
 man to be always crying or talking sentiment, or forever 
 acting the sage ; but a heartless fool is the bane of 
 womankind. You know Stephen's father saved my 
 uncle's life at the battle of the Eutaw Springs, and that 
 my uncle has long made up his mind to make him my 
 lord and master, and leave us his whole fortune, with 
 the exception of a legacy to poor Graves. The older 
 I grow, the more I dislike this plan. But I would not 
 thwart my dear, kind, generous uncle father ; if any 
 thing less than my future happiness is at stake. He 
 calls Stephen, puppy, jackanapes and dandy, ten times 
 a day. But I can see his heart is still set upon the match. 
 So true is it, that it is almost impossible for old people 
 to give up a long cherished and favourite plan. But I 
 have made up my mind in the solitude of the mountains 
 to meet what may come come what will. 
 
 My head is now full of finery, and all my senses in a 
 whirl. I wish you could see me. My hat is so large 
 
58 
 
 that there is no bandbox on the face of the earth, big 
 enough to accommodate it ; and yet you will be sur 
 prised to hear that it is neither fit for summer or winter, 
 rain or sunshine. It will neither keep off one or the 
 other, and so plagues me when I go into the street, that 
 I hardly know which way to turn myself. Every puff 
 of wind nearly oversets me. There are forty-two yards 
 of trimmings, and sixty feathers to it. My dress is a 
 full match for my hat. It took twenty three yards of 
 silk, five yards of satin, besides, " bobbin, ben bob 
 bin, and ben bobbinet," I dont know what else to call 
 it beyond all counting. You must think I have grown 
 very much. I am so beflounced, that my uncle laughs at 
 me whenever I come where he is, and declares, that a fine 
 lady, costs more to fit her out now a days, than a ship 
 of the line. What between hat and flounces, &c. a lady 
 has a time of it when the wind blows, and the dust is 
 flying in clouds, as it does in Broadway all day long. 
 I encountered a puff, at the corner of one of the streets, 
 and there I stood, holding my hat with one hand, and 
 my cardinal cloak, which has fifty-six yards of various 
 commodities in it, with the other. I thought I should 
 have gone up like a balloon ; and stood stark still un 
 til I came near being run over by a great hog, which 
 was scampering away from some mischievous boys. 
 At last a sailor took compassion on me, and set me 
 down at the door of a store. As he went away, I heard 
 him say to his companion : " D n my eyes, Bill, 
 what a press of canvass the girls carry now a days." 
 
 O its delightful to travel, Maria ! We had such a 
 delightful sail in the steam boat, though we were afi 
 
59 
 
 sick ; and such a delightful party, if they only had been 
 well. Only think of sailing without sails, and not 
 caring which way the wind blows ; and going eight 
 miles an hour let what would happen. It was quite 
 charming ; but for all this I was glad when it was over, 
 and we came into still water. Coming into the Nar 
 rows, as they are called, was like entering a Paradise. 
 On one side is Long Island, with its low shores, stud 
 ded with pretty houses, and foliage of various kinds, 
 mixed up with the dark cedars. On the other, Staten 
 Island, with its high bluff, crowned by the telegraph 
 and signal poles ; and beyond, the great fort that put 
 me in mind of the old castles which Stephen talks 
 about. We kept close to the Long Island shore, along 
 which we glided, before wind and tide with the swiftness 
 of wings. Every moment some new beauty opened 
 to our view. The little islands of the bay crowned 
 with castles ; the river beyond terminated by the lofty 
 ledge of perpendicular rocks, called the palisades ; 
 and lastly, the queen of the west, the beautifuj city, with 
 its Battery and hundred spires, all coming one after the 
 other in succession, and at last all combined in one 
 beautiful whole, threw me almost into raptures, and en 
 tirely cured my sea sickness. Add to this, the ships, 
 vessels and boats, of all sizes, from the seventy-four to 
 the little thing darting about, like a feather, with a single 
 person in it ; and the grand .opening of the East River, 
 with Brooklyn and the charming scenery beyond, and 
 you can form some little idea of my surprise and delight. 
 Signior Maccaroni, as my uncle calls him, looked at it 
 with perfect nonchalance. The bay was nothing to 
 
60 
 
 the bay of Naples ; and the castle, less than nothing 
 compared with Castel Nuovo. Thank heaven, I had not 
 been abroad to spoil my relish. Even my uncle enjoy 
 ed it, and spoke more kindly to me than during the 
 whole passage. He was very sick, and called himself 
 an old fool fifty times a day. I believe half the time he 
 meant " young fool," that is me, for persuading him to 
 the voyage. Graves' eyes sparkled, but as usual he 
 said nothing. He only gave me a look, which said as 
 plainly as a thousand words, " how beautiful !" but 
 whether he meant me or dame nature, is more than I 
 can tell. 
 
 The moment we touched the wharf, there was an 
 irruption of the Goths and Vandals, as my uncle called 
 the hackney coachmen, and the porters, who risked their 
 necks in jumping aboard. " Carriage, sir," " Baggage, 
 sir," " City Hotel sir," " Mansion House,"" Mrs. 
 Mann's," were reiterated a thousand times; and I 
 thought half a dozen of them would have fought for our 
 trunks, they disputed and swore so terribly. Stephen 
 declared it was worse than London ; and Graves said 
 it put him in mind of the contest between the Greeks 
 and Trojans for the body of poor Patroclus. My uncle 
 called them hard names, and flourished his stick, but it 
 would not do. When we got to the hotel I thought we 
 had mistaken some palace for a public house. Such 
 mirrors such curtains such carpets such sophas 
 such chairs ! I was almost afraid to sit down upon 
 them. Even Stephen looked his approbation, and re 
 peated over and over again : " Upon my soul, clever 
 quite clever very clever indeed, upon my soul." My 
 
61 
 
 uncle says, all this finery comes out of the cotton plan 
 tations and rice swamps ; and that the negroes of the 
 south, work like horses, that their masters may spend 
 their money like asses in the north. 
 
 Poor Henney does nothing but stand stock still with 
 her mouth and eyes wide open, and is of no more use 
 to me than a statue. She is in every body's way and 
 in her own way too I believe. I took her with me the 
 other day to a milliner's, to bring home some of my 
 finery. She stopt at every window, with such evident 
 tokens of delight, that she attracted the attention of the 
 boys, and came very near being mobbed. I missed 
 her, and was obliged to turn back where I found her 
 in ecstacies with a picture of Madame Hutin dancing 
 before a droll figure, hi a fur cap and spectacles. Juba 
 is keeping a journal I believe, for you know that my un 
 cle, while he abuses the practice with his tongue, as 
 sents to it in his heart, and humours his slaves more 
 perhaps than a professed philanthropist would do in his 
 situation. I should like to see Juba's lucubrations. 
 
 I begin to be weary so good night, my dear Maria. 
 I will write again soon. Your LUCIA. 
 
 P. S. What do you think, Maria ? whisper it not 
 to the telltale echoes of the high hills of Santee they 
 say bishops and pads are coming into fashion. I have 
 'Seen several ladies that looked very suspicious. 
 
 Besides eating, and the various other resources for 
 passing the time in New York, there are various intel 
 lectual delights of most rare diversity. Exhibitions of 
 fat oxen to charm the liberal minded amateur Lord By- 
 6 
 
62 
 
 ton's helmet and Grecian dogs, \vhose wonderful ca^ 
 pacity fully attests to the astonished world, that the 
 march of mind has extended even to the brute creation, 
 insomuch that the difference between instinct and 
 reason, is now scarcely perceptible to the nicest ob 
 server, and it is the opinion of many of our learned 
 men, that a dog of the nineteenth century is considera 
 bly wiser than a man of the sixteenth. There are also 
 highly amusing methods of drawing teeth, teaching 
 grammar and tachigraphy, as well as all sorts of sci 
 ences and languages, by methods and machinery, which 
 are pretended to be original, but which may be found 
 in the famous Captain Lemuel Gulliver's voyage to La- 
 puta. There are moreover an infinite number of highly 
 diverting inventions for improving the condition of man 
 kind, and teaching them economy and industry, by ena 
 bling them to live without either at others' expense. 
 There are taverns, where amateurs may drink and 
 smoke all the morning, without offence to man or beast. 
 There is a famous musician, who can imitate the bark 
 ing of dogs on his instrument, so as to deceive a dog 
 himself, and whose " lady" screams exactly like a cat; 
 so that they make the divinest harmony that ever was 
 heard. There are the ladies' bonnets and curls, which 
 are worth travelling a hundred miles to see ; and their 
 what shall we call them 1 bishops or pads, which 
 are worth a voyage to the moon, to behold in all their 
 majestic rotundity. There is also no, there will be, 
 as we are enabled to state positively on the best autho 
 rity there will be an exhibition, which is better worth 
 the. attention of people of real refined taste, than all 
 
63 
 
 those just enumerated put together. The gentleman 
 has politely favoured us with a programme of his eve 
 ning's exhibition, with permission to publish it, and to 
 announce to the world of fashion, that he will be here 
 on or about the first of June. 
 
 " You shall either laugh or cry." 
 THEATRICAL, DESCRIPTIVE, PHILOSOPHICAL, &C. 
 
 Mr. Hart, the preacher of natural religion, the play 
 actor, the tin pedlar, the attorney and counsellor at law, 
 a lover of music, and an admirer of the fair sex, re 
 spectfully informs the ladies and gentlemen of New 
 York, that on or about the first day of June next, at 
 evening candle light, he will go through an act of his own 
 composition, at some place of fashionable resort, to 
 consist of the following, parts, viz. : 
 
 First. Music and dancing, and whirling round part 
 of the time on one leg, and part of the time on two 
 legs, like a top, fifty times, without showing the least 
 giddiness. 
 
 Second. An address to Hope, in blank verse. 
 
 Third. The difference pointed out between happi 
 ness above and happiness below. 
 
 Fourth. Music. 
 
 Fifth. Orlando, an imaginary character, to his sweet 
 heart. 
 
 Sixth. Music, dancing, and whirling round fifty 
 times. 
 
 Seventh. An address to the departed spirit of 
 George Washington. 
 
 
64 
 
 Eighth. Music. 
 
 Ninth. The lover solus. 
 
 Tenth. Music, dancing, and whirling round fiftj 
 times. 
 
 Eleventh. Orlando in despair marries one he does 
 not love, runs mad, and whirls round fifty times to mu 
 sic. 
 
 Twelfth. Description of his contriving to -get a di 
 vorce by means unprecedented in modern times. 
 
 Thirteenth. Music, dancing, and whirling round 
 fifty times. 
 
 To conclude with Mr. Hart's acting the natural fool ? 
 talking to the departed spirits of General Washington 
 and Thomas Paine, and with his making crooked 
 mouths and wry faces at the audience. 
 
 We are much mistaken in the taste of the town, if 
 this exhibition of Mr. Hart will not prove one of the 
 most attractive ever presented to the patronage of the 
 fashionable world, and go near to ruin all the theatres. 
 The bill presents a variety of attraction perfectly irre 
 sistible to all refined palates. First there is music, 
 then dancing, then whirling round fifty times, for the 
 lovers of the Italian opera and gymnastics ; then an 
 address to Hope, for the lovers of poetry ; then a phi 
 losophical disquisition, for the lovers of philosophy; 
 then music, to put us in a proper frame to listen to Or 
 lando's love letter ; then dancing and whirling, for the 
 amateurs of the grand ballet ; then an address to a 
 shade, for the devourers of witch and ghost stories ; 
 then a lover talking to himself, for innamoratoes ; the 
 
65 
 
 running mad, for the amusement of despairing young 
 gentlemen ; then the contrivance for getting a divorce, 
 which we prophecy will be received with great ap 
 plause. But the cream of all will be the playing of the 
 fool, and making wry faces at the audience, which can 
 not do otherwise than please our theatrical amateurs, 
 unless they should happen to have been surfeited with 
 it already. In short, we think Mr. Hart's bill of 
 fare fairly distances all play bills, not excepting Peter 
 Wilkins, and that Mr. Hart himself must possess a 
 greater versatility of talent, than the gentlemen and la 
 dies who play six characters at a time, or even than the 
 prince of buffoons and imitators, Mr. Mathews himself.- 
 We have no doubt the whole town will flock to see him. 
 and that we shall observe, soon after his arrival, a great 
 improvement in the taste of the people, as well as in 
 our theatrical exhibitions, which may borrow a few hints 
 from him with great advantage. 
 
 There are various branches of domestic industry, 
 cultivated by the young ladies of New York, the prin 
 cipal of which is the spinning of street yarn, which 
 they generally practise about four hours a day. Whence 
 they are technically termed spinsters. But the great 
 branch of domestic industry among the men, is the 
 trade in politics, in which vast numbers are engaged, 
 some at stated seasons, others all the year round. Of the 
 arts and mysteries of this business we profess to know 
 nothing ; but we believe, from the best information, 
 that the whole secret consists in a certain dexterous turn 
 ing of the coat, which ought always to have two sides, 
 one the exact contrast to the other, in colour and con- 
 G* 
 
66 
 
 sistency. By the aid of this sort of harlequin jacket, 
 a dexterous trader in politics can, if lie possesses the 
 ordinary instinct of a rat, always keep a strong house 
 over his head, a tight vessel under him, and be always 
 in the right, that is to say, always on the strongest side, 
 which, according to fundamental principles, is being al 
 ways right. Some intolerant persons take upon them 
 selves to denounce such manoeuvring of the outward gar 
 ment as unprincipled and disgraceful ; but for our parts 
 we hold that necessitas non habet lex and it is within the 
 sphere of our knowledge, that no inconsiderable por 
 tion of this abused class of people, if they did not turn 
 their coats pretty often, would very soon have no coats 
 to turn. 
 
 Of the other occupations or mysteries, such as spend 
 ing a great deal of money, without having any ; and 
 running in debt, without possessing any credit ; our li 
 mits will not allow us to dilate so copiously as we could 
 wish. Suffice it to say, that New York is in this re 
 spect by no means behind hand with its neighbours, in 
 asmuch as it is not uncommon to see people riding in 
 splendid carriages, living in splendid houses, and own 
 ing a whole street, who when they come to settle with 
 death, or their other creditors, pay the former and that 
 is all. For the benefit of all fashionable tourists, we 
 would wish to enter upon a full development of this the 
 most valuable secret of the whole art of living, which 
 may possibly one day stand them in stead. But it 
 would require volumes of illustrations, and a minute 
 ness of detail irreconcilable with the plan of this work. 
 And even then it is doubtful whether the tourist would 
 
67 
 
 be able to put the system in practice, since many are 
 of opinion, that nothing but a regular apprenticeship in 
 the arts of stock jobbing, stock companies, hypotheca 
 tion, blowing bubbles and bursting them, as practised 
 par excellence in the beau monde of New York, will 
 qualify a person for living upon nothing, unless he has 
 an extraordinary natural genius. 
 
 Among the many modes however of raising the wind 
 in New York, that of buying lottery tickets is one of the 
 most infallible. It is amazing what a number of prizes 
 every lottery office keeper has sold either in whole or in 
 shares, and what is yet more extraordinary, as well as alto 
 gether out of fashion, paid them too if you will take his 
 word for it. The whole insides and a large portion of 
 the outsides of many houses in Broadway, are covered 
 with the vast sums thus liberally dispensed to the public, 
 and what is very remarkable, among all those who 
 have made their fortunes in this way, we never heard of 
 a single person who was brought to ruin by it J People 
 need have no scruples of conscience about trying their 
 luck in this way, since if it were really gambling, the 
 legislature of New York state, which is a great enemy 
 to horse racing save in one consecrated spot and all 
 other kinds of gambling, would certainly never have 
 authorized a series of lotteries, of which some people 
 may recollect the beginning, but nobody can predict the 
 end. Nothing can exceed the philanthropic earnestness 
 with which the dispensers of fortune's favours, in the 
 lotteries, strive to allure the ignorant and unwary, who 
 are not aware of the certainty of making a fortune Hi 
 this way, into a habit of depending on the blind goddess. 
 
instead of always stupidly relying upon the labour oi 
 their hands, and the sweat of their brows. Nor ought 
 the unwearied pains of these liberal hearted persons, to 
 coax them into parting with all they have, in the moral 
 certainty of getting back a hundred, yea a thousand 
 fold, pass without due commendation, for certain it is, 
 that if any body in New York is poor, it must be owing 
 to their own obstinate stupidity in refusing these disin 
 terested invitations. N. B. There are very severe 
 laws against gambling in New York. 
 
 There are many other ways of living and getting 
 money here, and spending it too, which it is not neces 
 sary to enumerate. We have premised sufficient to 
 enable the enlightened tourist, who peradventure may 
 have been left destitute in a strange place, by a run at 
 cards, a failure of remittances or any other untoward 
 accident, to retrieve his fortune, if he possesses an or 
 dinary degree of intrepidity and enterprise. A com 
 plete knowledge of the world is the first requisite for living 
 in the world, and the first step to the attainment of this, is 
 to know the difference between catching and being 
 caught, as aptly exemplified in the fable of the fox and the 
 oyster. 
 
 Once upon a time it was long before the foxes 
 had their speech taken from them lest they should get 
 the better of man as Reynard was fishing for oysters 
 with his tail, he had the good luck to put the end of it 
 into the jaws of a fine Blue Pointer that lay gaping with 
 his mouth wide open, by reason of his having drank too 
 much salt water at dinner. " Ah ha!" cried the oyster, 
 shutting his mouth as quickly as his corpulent belly 
 would permit" Ah ha ! have I caught you at last !" 
 
Reynard tickled to death at this wise exclamation, forth 
 with set off full tilt for his hole, the oyster holding on 
 with all his might, though he got most bitterly bethumpt 
 against the rocks, and exclaiming all the while, " Ah 
 ha ! my honest friend, dont think to escape me I've 
 got you safe enough ah ha !" All which he uttered 
 without opening his mouth, as was the custom of speak 
 ing in those days. Reynard who had well nigh killed 
 himself with laughing, at length came safe to his lodg 
 ings with the clumsy oyster still fast to his tail. After 
 taking a little breath, he addressed it thus, " Why thou 
 aquatic snail thou non-descript among animals, that 
 art neither fish, flesh, nor fowl hadst thou but one sin 
 gle particle of brains in all that fat carcase of thine, I 
 would argue the matter with thee. As it is, I will soon 
 teach thee the difference between catching and being 
 caught." So saying, he broke the shell of the honest 
 oyster, with a stone, and swallowed his contents with 
 great satisfaction. 
 
 Having seen every thing worth seeing, and eaten 
 of every thing worth eating, in New York, the traveller 
 may begin to prepare for the ineffable delights of the 
 springs. After the month of April, oysters become un 
 lawful, and canvass backs are out of season. There is 
 then nothing to detain the inquisitive tourist, and there 
 are many things that render his speedy departure highly 
 expedient. As Caesar was cautioned by the seer to 
 beware the Ides of March, so do we in like manner, 
 seriously and vehemently caution the tourist to beware 
 of the first of May, in other countries and places the 
 season of May poles, rural dances, and rustic loves ; 
 
70 
 
 but in New York, the period in which a great portion of 
 the inhabitants, seem to be enjoying a game at puss-in- 
 a-corner, or move all. Woe be to the traveller who 
 happens to sojourn in a house where this game is going 
 on, for he will find no rest to the soles of his feet. His 
 chair, and his bed, his carpet, and his joint stool, will be 
 taken from under him, and he will be left alone as it 
 were like one howling in the wilderness. People seem 
 to be actually deranged, as well as their establishments, 
 insomuch that the prize poet whom we have quoted be 
 fore, not long since produced the following extempore 
 on the first of May : 
 
 " Sing, heavenly muse ! which is the greatest day, 
 The first of April, or the first of May ; 
 Or ye who moot nice points in learned schools, 
 Tell us which breeds the greatest crop of fools !" 
 
 For a more particular account of this festival, which 
 particularly distinguishes the city of New York from all 
 others in the known world, we refer our readers to the 
 following letter. There is however some reason to 
 surmise that it prevailed in Herculaneum and Pompeii, 
 and was one of the causes which brought the vengeance 
 of the gods on these unfortunate cities. 
 
 COLONEL CULPEPER TO MAJOR BRANDE. 
 
 New York, May 2, 1827. 
 
 MY DEAR MAJOR, I am sorry to inform you that 
 yesterday morning at daylight, or a little before, a largo 
 portion of the inhabitants of this city ran mad, in a 
 most singular, I might say, original manner; for I 
 dont remember to have seen this particular species 
 
71 
 
 described in any work on the subject. This infirmity itf 
 peculiar to this precise season of the year, and generally 
 manifests itself a day or two previous to the crisis, in a 
 perpetual fidgeting about the house ; rummaging up 
 every thing ; putting every thing out of place, and 
 making a most ostentatious display of crockery and tin 
 ware. In proof of its not having any affinity to hydro 
 phobia, it is sufficient to observe that the disease inva 
 riably manifests itself in a vehement disposition to 
 scrubbing floors, washing windows, and dabbling in 
 water in all possible ways. The great and decisive 
 symptom, and one which is always followed by an al 
 most instantaneous remission of the disorder, is scram 
 bling out of one house as fast as you can, and getting 
 into another, as soon as possible. But as I consider 
 this as one of the most curious cases that ever came 
 under my observation, I will give you a particular ac 
 count of every prominent symptom accompanying it, 
 with a request you will communicate the whole to Dr. 
 Brady, for his decision on the matter. 
 
 It being a fine, bright, mild morning, I got up early, 
 to take a walk on the Battery, the most glorious place 
 for a morning or evening stroll, to be found in the world. 
 It is almost worth coming here, to inhale the exquisite 
 coolness of the saline air, and watch the ever moving 
 scenery of little white sails, majestic displays of snowy 
 canvass that look like fleecy clouds against the hills of 
 Jersey and Staten Island, and all the life of nature, 
 connected with her beautiful repose on the bosom of 
 the still mirror of the expansive bay. Coming down 
 into the entry, I found it cluttered up with a specimen of 
 
almost every thing that goes to the composition of house 
 keeping, and three or four sturdy fellows with hand 
 barrows, on which they were piling Ossa upon Pelion. 
 I asked what the matter was, but all I could get out of 
 them was, " First of May, sir please to stand out of 
 the way first of May, sir." So I passed on into the 
 street, where I ran the gauntlet, among looking glasses, 
 old pictures, baskets of crockery, and all other matters 
 and things in general. The side walks were infested with 
 processions of this sort, and in the middle of the streets, 
 were innumerable carts loaded with a general jail delivery 
 of all the trumpery, good, bad and indifferent, that the care 
 lessness of servants had broken, or the economy of the 
 housewives preserved. If I stopt to contemplate this 
 inexplicable scene, some male monster was sure to 
 bounce against me out of a street door, with a feather 
 bed, or assault me in the breach with the corner of a 
 looking glass, or some projection still more belligerent ; 
 while all the apology I got, was u First of May take 
 care, sir first of May." Sometimes I was beleaguered 
 between two hand barrows, coming different ways, and 
 giving each other just enough room to squeeze me half 
 to death. At others, I was run foul of by a basket of 
 crockery or cut glass, with a woman under it, to the 
 imminent risk of demolishing these precious articles so 
 dear to the heart of the sex, and got not only sour looks 
 but words, while my bones were aching with bumps and 
 bruises. 
 
 Finding there was no peace in Israel, I determined 
 to get home without farther delay, and ensconce myself 
 vsnugly, until this fearful-irruption of the household god?> 
 
73 
 
 and their paraphernalia, had passed away. But I forgo! 
 that " returning were as tedious as go o'er." There 
 was not an old chair, or a looking glass, or a picture, or 
 any article cursed with sharp angles, that did not appear 
 to have an irresistible attraction towards some part of 
 my body, especially that portion which oftenest comes 
 in contact with other bodies. In attempting to steer 
 elear of a hand barrow, I encountered a looking glass, 
 which the lady owner was following with pious care, 
 and shattered it into a thousand pieces. The lady 
 fainted ; in my zeal to apologize and assist her, I un 
 fortunately grazed a glass lustre, which caught in my 
 button hole, and drew after it a little French woman, who 
 luckily lighted on a feather bed which an Irishman had 
 set down to rest himself: " Mon Dieu!" cried the little 
 woman : " Jasus !" exclaimed the Irishman ; the lady 
 of the looking glass wept ; the little demoiselle laughed ; 
 the Irishman stole a kiss of her ; and the valiant Colonel 
 Culpeper, sagely surmising that the better part of valour 
 was discretion, made a masterly retreat into the entry of 
 his domicil, where by the same token he ran full against 
 my landlady, who in a paroxysm of the disorder was 
 sallying forth with both hands full, and demolished her 
 spectacles irrevocably. 
 
 Finding myself thus environed with perils on all sides, 
 I retreated to my bed chamber, but here I found the 
 madness raging with equal violence. A servant maid 
 was pulling up the carpet, and pulling down the curtains, 
 and making the dust fly in all directions, with a feverish 
 activity that could only have been produced by a degree 
 of excitement altogether unnatural. There was uo 
 
 7 
 
74 
 
 living here, so I retreated to the dining room, where 
 every thing was out of its place and the dust thicker, 
 than in the bed room ; mops going in one corner* 
 brooms flourishing in another, sideboards standing in 
 the middle of the room, and dining tables flapping their 
 wings, as if partaking in that irresistible propensity to 
 motion which seemed to pervade every thing animate 
 and inanimate. 
 
 " Pray, sir," said I to a grave old gentleman, who 
 sat reading a newspaper, apparently unmoved amid the 
 general confusion. " Pray, sir, can you tell me what all 
 this confusion means ?" " O its only the first of May,'* 
 he replied, without taking his eyes off the newspaper* 
 Alas ! he too is mad, thought I. But I'll try s him 
 again. 
 
 " The first of May, what of the first of May ?" 
 
 " 'Tis moving time." 
 
 " Moving time ! what is that ?" 
 
 " The time when every body moves." 
 
 " But why does every body move just at this time V 7 
 
 11 1 cant tell except it be because it is the first of 
 Hay. But," added he, looking up at last with a droll 
 smile, " you seem to be a stranger, and perhaps dont 
 know that the first of May, is the day of all others in the 
 year, when the good people of this town, have one and 
 all agreed to play at the game of move all. They are 
 now at it with all their might. But to-morrow, all will 
 be quiet, and we shall be settled in a different part of 
 the street." 
 
 " then the people are not mad," said I. 
 
75 
 
 " By no means, they are only complying with an old 
 Custom." 
 
 " >Tis an odd custom." 
 
 " It is so, but not more odd than many others in all 
 parts of the world." 
 
 " Will you be so obliging as to tell me its origin, and 
 the reason for it ?" 
 
 " Why as to the reason, half the old customs we 
 blindly follow are just as difficult to account for, and 
 apparently as little founded in reason as this. It would 
 be too much to make people give reasons for every 
 thing they do. This custom of moving in a body on 
 May day, is said however to have originated at a very 
 early period in the history of New York, when there 
 were but two houses in it. The tenants of these taking 
 it into their heads to change their domicil, and having no 
 others to remove to, agreed to start fair at one and the 
 same time with bag and baggage, and thus step into 
 each other's shoes. They did so, and the arrangement 
 was found so convenient that it has passed into general 
 practice ever since." 
 
 " And so the good people take it for granted that a 
 custom which necessity forced upon them when there 
 were but two houses in the city, is calculated for a 
 city with thirty thousand. A capital pedigree for an 
 old custom." 
 
 " 'Tis as good as one half the old customs of the 
 world can boast of," replied the philosopher, and resu 
 med his studies. " But," said I, "how can you possibly 
 read in all this hub-bub ?" " O," replied he, " I've 
 moved every May day for the last forty years." 
 
76 
 
 Inquiring where the house was situated, into which 
 the family was moving, I made for it with all conve 
 nient speed, hoping to find there a resting place for 
 my wearied and bruised body. But I fell out of the 
 frying pan into the fire. The spirit of moving was here 
 more rampant than at my other home, and between 
 moving in and moving out, there was no chance of esca 
 ping a jostle or a jog, from some moving moveable, in its 
 arrival or departure. Despairing of a resting place here. 
 I determined to drop in upon an old friend, and proceed 
 ed to his house. But he too was moving. From thence 
 I went to a hotel in hopes of a quiet hour in the reading 
 room ; but the hotel was moving too. 1 jumped into a 
 hack, bidding the man drive out of town as fast as pos 
 sible. " I'm moving a family, sir, and cant serve you," 
 cried he ; and just then somebody thrust the corner of 
 a looking glass into my side, and almost broke one of 
 my ribs. At this critical moment, seeing the door of a 
 church invitingly open, I sought refuge in its peaceful 
 aisles. But alas ! major, every thing was in confusion 
 here ; the floors in a puddle, the pews wet, the prayer 
 books piled in heaps, and women splashing the win 
 dows furiously with basins of water. " Zounds !" said 
 I to one of them, " are you moving too ?" and without 
 waiting for an answer, walked into the church yard, in 
 hopes I should find them quiet there. Here I sauntered 
 about, reading the records of mortality, and moralizing 
 on the contrast between the ever moving scene without 
 and the undisturbed repose within. There was but a 
 wooden fence to mark the separation between the region 
 of life and that of death. In a few minutes my perturba- 
 
77 
 
 lion subsided, the little rubs and vexations I had under 
 gone during the day faded into insignificance before the 
 solemn meditations on that everlasting remove to which 
 we all are destined. I went home, dined at my old 
 house, slept in my new 'lodgings, on a wet floor., 
 and caught a rheumatism in my left shoulder. 
 
 Adieu, major. If you ever visit New York beware of 
 the first of May. 
 
 From this letter, which we assure our readers is of 
 the first authority, it will appear sufficiently apparent 
 that the elegant tourist should so arrange his pleasures, 
 for business he ought not to have any, as either to ar 
 rive at New York after, or quit it before the first day of 
 May. Previous to his departure, it will be proper for 
 the traveller, if a gentleman, to furnish himself with the 
 following indispensable conveniences, viz. : 
 
 The New Mirror for Travellers, and Guide to the 
 Springs. N. B. Be careful to ask for the NEW MIR 
 ROR. 
 
 Two shirts. N. B. Dickies, or collars, with ruffles, 
 will answer. 
 
 Plenty of cravats, which are the best apologies for 
 shirts in the world, except ruffles. 
 
 Six coats, including a surtout and box coat. N. B. 
 If you cant afford to pay for these, the tailor must suffer 
 there is no help for him. 
 
 Forty pair of pantaloons, of all sorts. Ditto waist 
 coats. 
 
 Twelve pair of white kid gloves. 
 
 Twelve pair of boots. N. B. If you wear boots al- 
 
78 
 
 together, stockings are unnecessary, except at balls 
 economy is a blessed thing. 
 
 Twelve tooth brushes. 
 
 Twelve hair brushes. 
 
 Six clothes brushes one for each coat. 
 
 A percussion gun and a pointer dog. N. B. No 
 matter whether you are a sportsman or not it looks 
 well. 
 
 A pair of pistols, to shoot a friend now and then. 
 
 An umbrella, which you can borrow of a friend and 
 forget to return. 
 
 A portmanteau without any name or initials, so that 
 if you should happen to take some one's else, it may 
 pass for a mistake. N. B. Never make such mistakes, 
 unless there is some special reason for it. 
 
 A pocket book, well filled with bank notes. If you 
 cant raise the wind, with the genuine, you may buy a 
 few counterfeits cheap. Any money is good enough 
 for travelling, and if one wont take it another will. 
 Dont be discouraged at one refusal try it again. If 
 you are well dressed, and have a gun and a pointer dog, 
 no one will suspect you. N. B. There are no police 
 officers in the steam boats. 
 
 There is one class of travellers deserving a whole 
 book by themselves, could we afford to write one for 
 their especial benefit. We mean the gentlemen who, 
 as the African negro said, " walk big way write big 
 book;" tourists by profession, who explore this country 
 for the pleasure of their readers, and their own profit, 
 and travel at the expense of the reputation of one coun 
 try, and the pockets of another ; who pay for a dinner 
 
79 
 
 by libelling their entertainer, and their passage in a 
 steam boat, by retailing the information of the steward 
 or coxswain ; to whom the sight of a porpoise at sea 
 affords matter for profitable speculation ; who make 
 more out of a flying fish than a market woman does out 
 of a sheep's head ; and dispose of a tolerable storm at 
 the price of a week's board. These are the travellers 
 for our money, being the only ones on record, except 
 the pedlars, who unite the profits of business with the 
 pleasures of travelling a consummation which authors 
 have laboured at in vain, until the present happy age of 
 improvements, when sentimental young ladies wear spat 
 ter-dashes, and stout young gentlemen white kid gloves ; 
 when an opera singer receives a higher salary than an 
 archbishop, and travels about with letters of introduc 
 tion from kings ! 
 
 Of all countries in the world, Old England, our kind, 
 gentle, considerate old mamma, sends forth the largest 
 portion of this species of literary " riders," who sweep 
 up the materials for a book by the road side. They are 
 held of so much consequence as to be patronized by the 
 government, which expends large sums in sending them 
 to the North Pole, only to tell us in a " big book," how 
 cold it is there ; or to Africa, to distribute glass beads, 
 and repeat over and over the same things, through a 
 score of huge quartos. With these we do not concern 
 ourselves ;. but inasmuch as it hath been alleged, how 
 ever unjustly, that those who have from time to time 
 honoured this country with their notice, have been 
 guilty of divers sins of ignorance, prejudice, and ma 
 lignity, we here offer them a compendium of regula- 
 
80 
 
 tions, by the due observance of which, they may in fu 
 ture avoid these offences, and construct a "big book,'* 
 which shall give universal satisfaction. 
 
 Rules for gentlemen who "walk big way make big 
 book." 
 
 Never fail to seize every opportunity to lament, with 
 tears in your eyes, the deplorable state of religion 
 among " these republicans." People will take it for 
 granted you are a very pious man. 
 
 Never lose an opportunity of canting about the sad 
 state of morals among these republicans. People will 
 give you credit for being very moral yourself. 
 
 Whenever you have occasion to mention the fourth of 
 July, the birth day of Washington, or any other great 
 national anniversary, dont forget to adduce it as proof 
 of the bitter hostility felt by these republicans towards 
 the English, and to lament these practices, as tending 
 to keep up the memory of the revolution, as well as to 
 foster national antipathies. 
 
 Be very particular in noticing stage drivers, waiters, 
 tavern keepers, and persons of importance, who, as it 
 were, represent the character of the people. When 
 ever you want any deep and profound information, al 
 ways apply to them : they are the best authority you 
 can have. 
 
 If you happen to fall in company with a public man 
 in the stage or steam boat, take the first opportunity of 
 pumping the driver or waiter. These fellows know 
 every thing, and can tell you all the lies that have ever 
 been uttered against him. 
 
81 
 
 If you dine with a hospitable gentleman, dont fail to 
 repay him by dishing up himself, his wife, daughters, and 
 dinner in your book. If the little boys dont behave re 
 spectfully towards you, and sneak into a corner with 
 their fingers in their mouths, cut them up handsomely 
 father, mother, and all. Be sure you give their 
 names at full length ; be particular in noting every dish 
 on the table, and dont forget pumping the waiter. 
 
 Tell all the old stories which the Yankees repeat of 
 their southern and western neighbours, and which the 
 latter have retorted upon them. Be sure not to forget the 
 gouging of the judge, the roasting of the negro, the 
 wooden nutmegs, the indigo coal; and above all, the 
 excellent story of the wooden bowls. Never inquire 
 whether they are true or not ; they will make John Bull 
 twice as happy as he is at present. 
 
 Never write a line without having the fear of the 
 reviewers before your eyes, and remember how poor 
 Miss Wright got abused for praising these republicans 
 and sinners. 
 
 Never be deterred from telling a story to the discredit 
 of any people, especially republicans, on the score of 
 its improbability. John Bull, for whom you write, will 
 swallow any thing, from a pot of beer to a melo-drama. 
 He is even a believer in his own freedom. 
 
 Never be deterred from telling a story on account of 
 its having been told over and over again, b^ every 
 traveller since the discovery of America by the literati 
 of Europe. If the reader has seen it before, it is only 
 meeting an old friend ; if he has not, it is making 
 a new acquaintance. But be sure you dont forget to 
 
82 
 
 say that you saw every thing you describe. To quote 
 from another is to give him all the credit, and is almost 
 as bad as robbing your own house. There is nothing 
 makes a lie look so much like truth as frequent repeti 
 tion. If you know it to be false, dont let that deter 
 you ; for as you did not invent it yourself, you cannot 
 be blamed. 
 
 Abuse all the women in mass, out of compliment to 
 your own country women. The days of chivalry are 
 past, and more honour comes of attacking, than defend 
 ing ladies in the present age of public improvements. 
 Besides all the world loves scandal, and a book filled 
 with the praises of one nation is an insult to the rest of 
 the world. 
 
 If the stage breaks down with you, give the roads no 
 quarter. 
 
 If you get an indifferent breakfast at an inn, cut up 
 the whole town where the enormity was committed, 
 pretty handsomely. If a bad dinner, deprive the whole 
 nation of its morals. If a sorry supper, take away the 
 reputation of the landlady, the cook, and the landlady's 
 daughters incontinently. And if they put you to sleep 
 in a two bedded room, although the other bed be empty, 
 it is sufficient provocation to set them all Mown for in 
 fidels, thereby proving yourself a zealous Christian. 
 
 Never read any book written by natives of the coun 
 try you mean to describe. They are always partial ; 
 and besides, a knowledge of the truth always fetters the 
 imagination, and circumscribes invention. It is fatal 
 f.o the composition of a romance. 
 
 Never suffer the hospitalities and kindness of these 
 
83 
 
 republicans to conciliate you, except just while you are 
 enjoying them. You may eat their dinners and receive 
 their attentions ; but never forget that if you praise the 
 Yankees, John Bull will condemn your book ; and that 
 charity begins at home. The first duty of a literary 
 traveller is to make a book that will sell ; the rest is be 
 tween him and his conscience, and is nobody's business. 
 
 Never mind what these republicans say of you or your 
 book.' You never mean to come among them again ; 
 or if you do, you can come incog, under a different 
 name. Let them abuse you as much as they please. 
 "Who reads an American book?" No Englishman 
 certainly, except with a view of borrowing its con 
 tents without giving the author credit for them. Be 
 sides, every true born Englishman knows, that the 
 shortest way of elevating his own country, is to depress 
 all others as much as possible. 
 
 Never fail to find fault with every thing, and grumblfi 
 without ceasing. People wont know you for an Eng 
 lishman else. 
 
 Never mind your geography, as you are addressing 
 yourself to people who dont know a wild turkey from 
 Turkey in Europe. Your book will sell just as well if 
 you place New York on the Mississippi, and New Or 
 leans on the Hudson. You will be kept in countenance 
 by a certain British secretary of foreign affairs, who is 
 said to have declared the right to navigate the St. 
 Lawrence inadmissible to the United States, because it 
 would give them a direct route to the Pacific. 
 
 You need not make any special inquiries into the 
 *tate of morals, because every body knows that repub.- 
 
84 
 
 lieans have no morality. Nor of religion, because every 
 body knows they tolerate all religions, and of course 
 can have none. Nor of their manners, because as there 
 is no distinction of ranks recognized in their constitution, 
 every body knows they must be all blackguards. The 
 person most completely qualified of any we ever met with 
 for a traveller, was a worthy Englishman, who being 
 very near sighted, and hard of hearing, was not led 
 astray by the villany of his five senses ; and what was 
 very remarkable his book contained quite as much truth 
 as those of his more fortunate contemporaries who were 
 embarrassed by eyes and ears. 
 
 If the tourist belongs to the " last best work," the 
 following articles are of the first necessity hi a visit to 
 the springs. 
 
 Six fashionable hats, in bandboxes. N. B. The 
 steam boats are pretty capacious, and from Albany to 
 the springs, you can hire an extra. 
 
 Two lace veils to hide blushes. If you never blush, 
 there is no harm done. 
 
 An indispensable for miscellaneous matters. Beware 
 of pockets and pick pockets. 
 
 Two trunks of bareges, gros de Naples and silks. 
 
 Two trunks of miscellaneous finery. 
 
 A dressing case. 
 
 One large trunk containing several sets of curls 
 baked, prepared by Monsieur Manuel. 
 
 The last Waverley. 
 
 Plenty of airs. 
 
 Ditto of graces. 
 
85 
 
 Six beaux to amuse you on the journey. N. B. A 
 poodle will do as well. 
 
 A dozen pair of white satin shoes to ramble about in 
 the swamps at Saratoga and Ballston. Leather smells 
 vilely, and prunelle is quite vulgar. 
 
 Six dozen pair of silk hose, the thinnest that can be 
 had. There is nothing so beautiful as flesh colour with 
 open clocks. 
 
 A travelling chain, the largest and heaviest that can 
 be had, to wear round the neck. This will furnish the 
 beaux with a hint for saying clever things about chains, 
 darts, &c. and the poodle can sometimes play with it. 
 
 fcjr* There is no occasion for a pocket book, as papa 
 (or his creditors) pays all, and young ladies ought never 
 to know any thing about the value of money, it sophis 
 ticates the purity of their unadulterated sentiments. 
 
 These principal requisites being procured you take 
 the steam boat for Albany. If you are in a great hurry, 
 or not afraid of being drowned in going ashore at West 
 Point, or blown up by the way, take one of the fastest 
 boats you can find. But if you wish to travel pleasantly, 
 eat your meals in comfort, associate with genteel com 
 pany, sleep in quiet, and wake up alive, our advice is to 
 take one of the SAFETY BARGES, where all these advan 
 tages are combined. It grieves us to the soul to see 
 these sumptuous aquatic palaces, which constitute the 
 very perfection of all earthly locomotion almost de 
 serted, by the ill advised traveller and for what ? that 
 he may get to Albany a few hours sooner, as if it were 
 not the distinguishing characteristic of a genteel man oi" 
 8 
 
86 
 
 pleasure to have more time on his hands than he knows 
 what to do with. Let merchants, and tradesmen, and 
 brokers, and handicraft people, and all those condemned 
 to the labour of hands, to whom time is as money, 
 patronize the swift boats ; and let those who are running 
 away from justice affect these vehicles ; but for the man 
 of leisure, whose sole business is to kill time pleasantly,, 
 enjoy himself at his ease, and dine free from the infa 
 mous proximity of hungry rogues, who devour with their 
 eyes what they cant reach with their hands, the safety 
 barges are preferable even to the chariot of the sun. 
 N. B. We dont mean to discourage people who may 
 cherish the harmless propensity to be blown up every 
 one to their taste. 
 
 The following hints will be found serviceable to all 
 travellers in steam boats. 
 
 In the miscellaneous melange usually found in these 
 machines, the first duty of a man is to take care of him 
 self to get the best seat at table, the best location on 
 deck ; and when these are obtained to keep resolute 
 possession in spite of all the significant looks of the 
 ladies. 
 
 If your heart yearns for a particularly comfortable 
 seat which is occupied by a lady, all you have to do is to 
 Iceep your eye steadily upon it, and the moment she gets 
 up, dont wait to see if she is going to return, but take 
 possession without a moment's delay. If she comes 
 back again, be sure not to see her. 
 
 Keep a sharp look out for meals. An experienced 
 traveller can always tell when these amiable convenien- 
 
87 
 
 ees are about being served up, by a mysterious move 
 ment on the part of the ladies, and a mysterious agita 
 tion among the male species, who may be seen gradu 
 ally approximating towards the cabin doors. Whenever 
 you observe these symptoms, it is time to exert yourself 
 by pushing thraugh the crowd to the place of flagons. 
 Never mind the sour looks, but elbow your way with 
 resolution and perseverance, remembering that a man 
 can eat but so many meals in his life, and that the loss 
 of one can never be retrieved. 
 
 The most prudent and infallible arrangement, how 
 ever, is that generally pursued by your knowing English 
 travellers, which is as follows : As soon as you have seen 
 your baggage disposed of, and before the waiters have 
 had time to shut the cabin doors, preparatory to laying the 
 tables, station yourself in a proper situation for action 
 at one of them. The inside is the best, for there you 
 are not in the way of the servants. Resolutely main 
 tain your position in spite of the looks and hints of the 
 servants about, " Gentlemen being in the way," and 
 " No chance to set the tables." You can be reading a 
 book or a newspaper, and not hear them ; or the best 
 way is to pretend to be asleep. 
 
 Keep a wary eye for a favourite dish, and if it hap- 
 pefts to be placed at a distance, or on another table, you 
 can take an opportunity to look hard at an open window, 
 as if there was too much air for you, shrug your shoul 
 ders, and move opposite the dish aforesaid. 
 
 The moment the bell rings, fall to ; you need not 
 wait for the rest of the company to be seated, or mind 
 the ladies, for there is no time to be lost on these occa- 
 
88 
 
 sions. For the same reason, you should keep you? 
 eyes moving about, from one end of the table to the 
 other, in order that if you see any tiling you like, you 
 can send for it without losing time. Call as loudly and 
 as often as possible for the waiter ; the louder you call, 
 the more consequence you will gain with the company. 
 If he dont mind you, dont hesitate to snatch whatever 
 he has got in his hands, if you happen to want it. 
 
 Be sure to have as many different things on your plate 
 at one time as possible, and to use your own knife in 
 cutting up all the dishes within your reach, and particu 
 larly in helping yourself to butter, though there may be 
 knives on purpose. N. B. It is of no consequence 
 whether your knife is fishy or not. 
 
 Dont wait for the dessert to be laid, but the moment a 
 pudding or a pie is placed within your reach, fall to and 
 spare not. Get as much pudding, pie, nuts, apples, 
 raisins, &c. on your plate as it will hold, and eat all to 
 gether. 
 
 Pay no attention to the ladies, who have or ought to 
 have friends to take care of them, or they have no bu 
 siness to be travelling in steam boats. 
 
 The moment you have eaten every thing within your 
 reach, and are satisfied nothing more is forthcoming, get 
 up and make for the cabin door with a segar in your 
 hand. No matter if you are sitting at the middle of the 
 inner side of the table, and disturb a dozen or two of 
 people. They have no business to be in your way. If 
 it is supper time and the candles lighted, you .had best 
 light your segar at one of them, and puff a little be 
 fore you proceed for fear it should go out.' N. B, If 
 
89 
 
 you were to take an opportunity to find fault with the 
 meals, the attendants, and the boat, in an audible tone, 
 as Englishmen do, it will serve to give people an idea 
 you have been used to better at home. 
 
 Never think of pulling off your hat on coming into 
 the cabin, though it happens to be full of ladies. It 
 looks anti-republican ; and besides has the appearance 
 of not having been used to better company. 
 
 Never miss an opportunity of standing in the door 
 way, or on the stairs, or in narrow passages, and never 
 get out of the way to let people pass, particularly ladies. 
 
 If there happens to be a scarcity of seats, be sure to 
 stretch yourself at full length upon a sopha or a cushion, 
 and if any lady looks at you as if she thought you might 
 give her a place, give her another look as much as to 
 say, " I'll see you hanged first." 
 
 If the weather is cold get directly before the stove, 
 turn your back, and open the skirts of your coat behind 
 as wide as possible, that the fire may have fair play. 
 
 If you happen to be better dressed than your neighbour, 
 look at him with an air of superiority ; and dont hear 
 him if he has the impudence to speak to you. If it is 
 your ill fortune to be dressed not so well, employ a 
 tailor as soon as possible to remedy the inferiority. 
 
 Be sure to pay your passage, if you have any money.- 
 If you have none, go to sleep in some out of the way 
 corner, and dont wake till the last trumpet blows. 
 
 Dont pay any attention to the notification that " no 
 
 smoking is allowed abaft the wheel ;" but strut about 
 
 the quarter deck, and the upper gallery, among the 
 
 ladies with a segar on all occasions. There are so 
 
 S* 
 
90 
 
 many ignorant people that smoke on board steam boats, 
 that it will naturally be supposed you cant read, and 
 of course dont know of the prohibition. If you can 
 get to the windward of a lady or two, so much the 
 better. 
 
 Whenever you are on deck by day, be sure to have 
 this book in your hand, and instead of boring yourself 
 with the scenery, read the descriptions which will be 
 found infinitely superior to any of the clumsy produc 
 tions of nature. 
 
 N. B. These rules apply exclusively to gentlemen., 
 the ladies being allowed the liberty of doing as they 
 please, in all respects except six. 
 
 They are not permitted to eat beef steaks and mut 
 ton chops at breakfast, unless they can prove them 
 selves past fifty. 
 
 They must not sit at table more than an hour, unless 
 they wish to be counted hungry, which no lady ought 
 ever to be. 
 
 They must not talk so loud as to drown the noise of 
 the engine, unless their voices are particularly sweet. 
 
 They must not enact the turtle dove before all the 
 company, unless they cant help it. 
 
 They must not jump overboard, at every little noise 
 of the machinery. 
 
 They must not be always laughing, except they have 
 very white teeth. 
 
 With these exceptions, they may say and do just what 
 they like, in spite of papa and mama, for this is a free 
 country. 
 
91 
 
 PASSAGE UP THE HUDSON. 
 
 " This magnificent river,* which taking it in all its 
 combinations of magnitude and beauty, is scarcely 
 equalled in the new, and not even approached in the 
 old world, was discovered by Hendrick Hudson in the 
 month of September, 1609, by accident, as almost every 
 other discovery has been made. He was searching for 
 a northwest passage to India, when he first entered the 
 bay of New York, and imagined the possibility that he 
 had here found it, until on exploring the river upwards, 
 he came to fresh water, ran aground, and abandoned 
 his hopes. 
 
 " Of this man, whose name is thus identified with the 
 discovery, the growth, and the future prospects of a 
 mighty state, little is known ; and of that little the end 
 is indescribably melancholy. He made four voyages in 
 search of this imaginary northwest passage, and the 
 termination of the last is in the highest degree affecting, 
 as related in the following extract from his Journal, 
 as published in the collections of the New York Histo 
 rical Society." 
 
 " You shall understand," says Master Abacuk Pricket, 
 from whose Journal this is taken, " that our master 
 kept in his house in London, a young man named Hen- 
 rie Greene, borne in Kent, of worshipfull parents, but by 
 his lewd life and conversation hee lost the good will of 
 all his friends, and spent all that hee had. This man our 
 master (Hudson) would have to sea with him, because 
 hee could write well : our master gave him meate, and 
 
 < : We quote from the unpublished ana of Alderman Janson. 
 
92 
 
 drinke and lodgeing, and by means of one Master 
 Venson, with much ado got four pounds of his mother 
 to buy him clothes, wherewith Master Venson would 
 not trust him, but saw it laid out himself. This Henry 
 Greene was not set down in the owners' bookes, nor 
 any wages made for him. Hee came first on board at, 
 Gravesend, and at Harwich should have gone into the 
 field with one Wilkinson. At Island, the surgeon and 
 hee fell out in Dutch, and hee beat him ashore in Eng 
 lish, which set all the company in a rage ; so that wee 
 had much ado to get the surgeon aboarde. I told the 
 master of it, but hee bade mee let it alone, for (said 
 hee,) the surgeon had a tongue that would wrong the 
 best friend hee had. But Robert Juet (the master's 
 mate) would needs burn his fingers in the embers, and 
 told the carpenter a long tale (when hee was drunk) 
 that our master had brought in Greene to worke his credit 
 that should displease him ; which words came to the 
 master's eares, who when he understood it would have 
 gone back to Island, when he was forty degrees from 
 thence, to have sent home his mate, Robert Juet, in a 
 fisherman. But being otherwise persuaded, all was 
 well. So Henry Greene stood upright and very inward 
 with the master, and was a serviceable man every way 
 for manhood : but for religion, he would say he was 
 cleane paper whereon he might write what hee would. 
 Now when our gunner was dead, (and as the order is in 
 such cases) if the company stand in need of any thing 
 that belonged to the man deceased, then it is brought to 
 the mayne mast, and there sold to him that will give 
 most for the same. This gunner had a graye cloth 
 
93 
 
 gowne which Greene prayed the master to friend him so 
 much to let him have it, paying for it as another would 
 give. The master saith he should, and therefore he an 
 swered some that sought to have it, that Greene should 
 have it, and none else, and so it rested. 
 
 " Now out of season and time the master calleth the 
 carpenter to go in hand with a house onshore, which at the 
 beginning our master would not heare when it might have 
 been done. The carpenter told him that the snow and frost 
 were such, as he neither could or would go in hand with 
 surh worke. Which when our master heard, he ferret- 
 ted him out of his cabbin, to strike him, calling him by 
 many foule names, and threatening to hang him. The 
 carpenter told him that hee knew what belonged to his 
 place better than himselfe, and that hee was no house 
 carpenter. So this passed, and the house was (after) 
 made with much labour, but to no end. 
 
 " The next day after the master and the carpenter 
 fell out, the carpenter took his peece and Henry Greene 
 with him, for it was an order that none should go oui 
 alone, but one with a peece, and the other with a pike. 
 This did moove the master so much the more against 
 Henry Greene, that Robert Billet, his mate, must have 
 the gowne, and had it delivered to him ; which when 
 Henry Greene saw he challenged the master's promise ; 
 but the master did so raile on Greene with so many 
 words of disgrace, telling him that all his friends would 
 not trust him with twenty shillings, arid therefore why 
 should hee 1 As for wages hee had none, nor none 
 should have if he did not please him well. Yet the 
 master had promised him to make his wages as good as 
 
94 
 
 any man's in the ship ; and to have him one of the 
 prince's guard when he came home. But you shall see 
 how the devil out of this so wrought with Greene, that 
 hee did the master what mischiefe hee could in seek 
 ing to discredit him, and to thrust him and many other 
 honest men out of the ship in the end." 
 
 It appears that Greene having come to an under 
 standing with others whom he had corrupted, a plot was 
 laid to seize Hudson and those of the crew that remain 
 ed faithful to him, put them on board a small shallop 
 which was used in making excursions for food or ob 
 servations, and run away with the ship. Of the manner 
 in which this was consummated the same writer gives 
 the following relation : 
 
 " Being thus in the ice on Saturday the one and 
 twentieth day of June, (1610,) at night Wilson the 
 boatswayne and Henry Greene came to mee lying in my 
 cabbin lame, and told me that they and the rest of their 
 associates would shift the company and turne the mas 
 ter and all the sick men into the shallop, and let them 
 shift for themselves. For there was not fourteen daies 
 victuals left for all the company, at that poor allowance 
 they were at, and that there they lay, the master not 
 caring to goe one way or other : and that they had not 
 eaten any thing these three dayes, and therefore were 
 resolute either to mend or end, and what they had be 
 gun would go through with it, or dye." Pricket refuses 
 and expostulates with Wilson and Greene. " Henry 
 Greene then told me I must take my chance in the 
 shallop. If there be no remedy, (said I,) the will of 
 God be clone." Pricket tries to persuade them to put 
 
95 
 
 off their design for two days, nay for twelve hours, that 
 he might persuade Hudson to return home with the 
 ship ; but, to this they would not consent, and proceed 
 ed to execute their plot as follows : 
 
 " In the mean time, Henry Greene and another 
 went to the carpenter, and held him with a talke till the 
 master (Hudson) came out -of his cabbin ; (which he 
 soon did ; ) then came John Thomas and Bennett be 
 fore him, while Wilson bound his arms behind him. 
 He asked them what they meant ? They told him he 
 should know when he was in the shallop. Now Juet 
 while this was doing, came to John King into the hold, 
 who was provided for him, for he had got a sword of 
 his own and kept him at bay, and might have killed him, 
 but others came to help him, and so he came up to the 
 master. The master called to the carpenter and told 
 him he was bound ; but I heard no answer he made. 
 Now Arnold Lodlo and Michael Bute rayled at them, 
 and told them their knaverie would shewe itselfe. Then 
 was the shallop haled up~to the ship's side, and the 
 poore sick and lame men were called upon to get them 
 out of their cabbins into the shallop. The master called 
 to mee, who came out of my cabbin as well as I could 
 to the hatch waye to speak to him : where on my knees, 
 I besought them for the love of God to remember them 
 selves, and to doe as they would be done unto. They 
 bade me keepe myselfe well, and get me into my cab- 
 bin, not suffering the master to speake to me. But 
 when I came into my cabbin, againe he called to me at 
 the home that gave light into my cabbin, and told me 
 
96 
 
 that Juet would overthrow us all. Nay, says I, it is 
 that villaine Henry Greene, and I spake it not softly. 
 
 " Now were all the poore men in the shallop, whose 
 names are as followeth : Henrie Hudson, John Hudson, 
 Arnold Lodlo, Sidrach Faner, Phillip StafTe, Thomas 
 Woodhouse, (or Wydhouse,) Adam Moore, Henrie 
 King, and Michael Bute. The carpenter got of them 
 a peece, and powder and shot, and some pikes, an 
 iron pot, with some meale and other things. They 
 stood out of the ice, the shallop being fast to the sterne 
 of the shippe, and so when they were nigh out, for I 
 cannot say they were cleane out, they cut her head fast 
 from the sterne of the ship, then out with theire top- 
 sayles, and towards the east they stood in a cleare 
 sea." 
 
 The mutineers being on shore, some days after, were 
 attacked by a party of indians. 
 
 " John Thomas and William Wilson had their bowels 
 cut, and Michael Pearce and Henry Greene being mor 
 tally wounded, came tumbling in the boat together. 
 When Andrew Moter saw this medley, hee came run 
 ning down the rockes, and leaped into the sea, and soe 
 swamme to the boat, hanging on the sterne thereof, till 
 Michael Pearce took him in, who manfully made good 
 the head of the boat against the savages that pressed 
 sore upon us. Now Michael Pearce had got an 
 hatchet, wherewith I saw him strike one of them, that 
 he lay sprawling in the sea. Henry Greene crieth cora- 
 gio, and layeth about him with his truncheon. The 
 savages betook themselves to their bowes and arrows 
 which they sent among us, wherewith Henry Greene 
 
97 
 
 was slaine outright, and Michael Pearce received many 
 wounds, and so did the rest. Michael Pearce and 
 Andrew Moter rowed the boat away, which when the 
 savages saw they ranne to their boats, and I feared they 
 would have launched them to have followed us, but they 
 did not, and our ship s was in the middle of the channel, 
 and did not see us. 
 
 " Now when they had rowed a good way from the 
 shore, Michael Pearce fainted and could row no more. 
 Then was Andrew Moter driven to stand in the boat's 
 head and waft to the ship, which at the first saw us not, 
 and when they did, they could not tell what to make of 
 us ; but in the end they stood for us, and so took us up. 
 Henry Greene was thrown out of the boat into the sea, 
 and the rest were had on board. But they died all 
 three that day, William Wilson swearing and cursing in 
 the most fearful manner. Michael Pearce lived two 
 days after and then died. Thus you have heard the 
 tragicale of Henry Greene and his mates, whom they 
 called the captaine, these four being the only lustie men 
 in all the ship." 
 
 After this, Robert Juet took the command, but " died 
 for meere want," before they arrived at Plymouth, 
 which is the last we hear of them, except that Pricket 
 was taken up to London to Sir Thomas Smith. Nei 
 ther was the unfortunate Hudson and his companions 
 ever heard of more. Doubtless they perished misera 
 bly, by famine, cold, or savage cruelty. The mighty 
 river which he first explored, and the great bay to the 
 north, alone by bearing his name, carry his memory, 
 and will continue to carry it down to the latest posterity. 
 
 9 
 
98 
 
 We thought we could do no less than call the attention 
 of the traveller a few moments, to the hard fate of one 
 to whom they are originally indebted, for much of the 
 pleasures of the tour to the springs. 
 
 After the traveller has paid tribute to the memory of 
 honest Henry Hudson, by reading the preceding sketch 
 of his melancholy end, he may indulge himself in con 
 templating the beautiful world expanding every moment 
 before him, appearing and vanishing in the rapidity of 
 his motion, like the creations of the imagination. Every 
 object is beautiful, and its beauties heightened by the 
 eye having no time to be palled with contemplating 
 them too long. Nature seems in merry motion hurrying 
 by, and as she moves along displays a thousand varied 
 charms in rapid succession, each one more enchanting 
 than the rest. If the traveller casts his eyes backwards, 
 he beholds the long perspective waters gradually con 
 verging to a point at the Narrows, fringed with the low 
 soft scenery of Jersey and Long Island, and crowned 
 with the little buoyant islands on its bosom. If he looks 
 before him, on one side the picturesque shore of Jersey, 
 its rich strip of meadows and orchards, sometimes back 
 ed by the wood crowned hills, and at others by perpen 
 dicular walls of solid rock ; on the other, York Island 
 with its thousand little palaces, sporting its green fields 
 and waving woods, by turns allure his attention, and 
 make him wish either that the river had but one side, or 
 that he had more eyes to admire its beauties. 
 
 As the vessel wafts him merrily, merrily along, new 
 beauties crowd upon him so rapidly as almost to efface 
 the impressions of the past. That noble ledge of rocks 
 
99 
 
 which is worthy to form the barrier of the noble river, 
 and which extends for sixteen miles, shows itself in a 
 succession of sublime bluffs, projecting out one after 
 the other, looking like the fabled creations of the giants, 
 or the Cyclops of old. High on these cliffs, may be seen 
 the woodman, pitching his billet from the very edge 
 down a precipice of hundreds of feet, whence it slides 
 or bounds to the water's edge, and is received on board 
 its destined vessel. At other points, half way up its 
 sides you will see the quarriers, undermining huge mass 
 es of rocks that in the lapse of ages have separated 
 from the cliff above, and setting them rolling down with 
 thundering crashes to the level beach below. Here and 
 there under the dark impending cliff, where nature has 
 formed a little green nook or flat, some enterprising 
 skipper who owns a little pettiauger, or some hardy 
 quarrrer, has erected his little cot. There when the 
 afternoon shadows envelope the rocks, the woods and the 
 shores, may be seen little groups of children sporting 
 in all the glee of youthful idleness. Some setting their 
 little shaggy dog to swimming into the river after a chip, 
 others worrying some patient pussy, others wading 
 along the white sands knee deep in the waters, and 
 others perhaps stopping to stare at the moving wonder 
 champing by, then chasing the long ripple created by its 
 furious motion as it breaks along the sands. Contrast 
 ing beautifully with this long mural precipice on the 
 west, the eastern bank exhibits a charming variety of 
 waving outline. Long graceful curving hills, sinking into 
 little vales, pouring forth a gurgling brook then rising 
 : i gain into wood crowned heights, presenting the image of 
 
100 
 
 a mighty succession of waves, suddenly arrested in 
 their rolling career, and turned into mingled woods, and 
 meadows, and fertile fields, animated with all the living 
 emblems of industry ; cattle, sheep, waving fields of 
 grain, and whistling ploughmen. 
 
 These precipices are said to be of the trap formation, 
 a most important species of rock in geology, as whoever 
 " understands trap," may set up for a master of the sci 
 ence. In many places, this trap formation is found ap 
 parently based on a horizontal stratum of primitive 
 rock. This has somewhat shaken the trap theory and 
 puzzled geologists. But we leave them to settle the 
 affair, and pass on to objects of more importance to the 
 tourist, in a historical point of view at least. 
 
 At Sneden's Landing, opposite Dobb's Ferry, the 
 range of perpendicular trap rocks, disappears until you 
 again detect it, opposite Sing Sing, where it exhibits 
 itself in a most picturesque and beautiful manner ?i in 
 tervals, in the raflge of mountains bordering the west 
 side of the river, between Nyack and Haverstraw. At 
 Sneden's, commences a vast expanse of salt meadows, 
 generally so thickly studded with barracks and hay 
 stacks, as to present at a distance the appearance of a 
 great city rising out of the famed Tappan Sea, like 
 Venice from out the Adriatic. Travellers, who have 
 seen both, observe a great similarity but on the whole 
 prefer the haystacks. Here commences, Tappan Sea, 
 where the river expands to a breadth of three miles, and 
 where in the days of log canoes and pine skiffs, full 
 many an adventurous navigator is said to have encoun- 
 
101 
 
 tered dreadful perils in crossing over from the Slote to 
 Tarrytown. At present its dangers are all traditionary. 
 
 The western border of this beautiful expanse is 
 mountainous ; but the hills rise in such gradual ascent 
 that the whole is cultivated to the very top, and exhibits 
 a charming display of variegated fields. That the soil 
 was once rich, is established by the fact of this whole 
 district being settled by the Dutch, than whom there 
 never was a people better at smelling out rich vales 
 and fat alluvions. Here the race subsists unadultera 
 ted to the present time. The sons are cast in the same 
 moulds with the father and grandfather ; the daughters 
 depart not from the examples of their mothers and 
 grandmothers. The former eschew the mysteries of 
 modern tailoring, and the latter borrow not the fashion 
 of their bonnets from the French milliners. They 
 travel not in steam boats, or in any other new fangled 
 inventions ; abhor canals and rail roads, and will go 
 five miles out of the way to avoid a turnpike. They 
 mind nobody's business but their own, and such is their 
 inveterate attachment to home, that it is credibly report 
 ed there are men now living along the shores of the 
 river, who not only have never visited the renowned 
 Tarrytown, directly opposite, but who know not even 
 its name. 
 
 They are deplorably deficient in the noble science 
 of gastronomy, and such is their utter barbarity of taste^ 
 that they never eat but when they are hungry, nor after 
 they are satisfied, and the consequence of this barbarous 
 indifference to the chief good of life, is that they one 
 and all remain without those infallible patents of high 
 9* 
 
102 
 
 breeding, gout and dyspepsia. Since the period of the 
 first settlement of this region, the only changes that 
 have ever been known to take place, are those brought 
 about by death, who if report says true has sometimes 
 had his match with some of these tough old copper 
 heads ; in the aspect of the soil, which from an intermi 
 nable forest has become a garden ; arid in the size of 
 the loaves of bread, which from five feet long have dwin 
 dled down into the ordinary dimensions. For this un 
 heard of innovation, they adduce in their justification 
 the following undoubted tradition, which, like their hats 
 and their petticoats, has descended down from genera 
 tion to generation without changing a syllable. 
 
 " Sometime in the autumn of the year 1694, just when 
 the woods were on the change, Yffrow, or Vrouw 
 Katrinchee Van Noorden, was sitting at breakfast, 
 surrounded by her husband and family, consisting of six 
 stout boys, and as many strapping girls, all dressed in 
 their best, for it was of a Sunday morning. Yrouw Ka 
 trinchee, had a loaf of fresh rye bread between her knees, 
 the top of which was about on a line with her throat, the 
 other end resting upon a napkin on the floor ; and was 
 essaying with the edge of a sharp knife to cut off the up 
 per crust for the youngest boy, who was the pet ; when 
 unfortunately it recoiled from the said crust, and before 
 the good Vrouw had time to consider the matter, sliced 
 off her head as clean as a whistle, to the great horror of 
 "Mynheer Van Noorden, who actually stopt eating his 
 breakfast. This awful catastrophe, brought the big 
 loaves into disrepute, but such was their attachment to 
 good old customs, that it was not until Domine Koont- 
 
103 
 
 zie denounced them as against the law and the pro 
 phets, that they could be brought to give them up. 
 As it is, the posterity of the Van Noordens to this day 
 keep up the baking of big loaves, in conformity to the 
 last will and testament of their ancestor, who decreed 
 that this event should be thus preserved immortal in 
 his family."* 
 
 On the opposite side of the river, snugly nestling in a 
 little bay, lies Tarrytown, famous for its vicinity to the 
 spot where the British spy, Andre, was intercepted 
 by the three honest lads of Westchester. If the curious 
 traveller is inclined to stop and view this spot, to which 
 a romantic interest will ever be attached, the following 
 directions will suffice. 
 
 " Landing at Tarrytown,! it is about a quarter of a 
 mile to the post road, at Smith's tavern. Following the 
 post road due north, about half a mile, you come to a 
 little bridge over a small stream, known by the name of 
 Clark's Kill, and sometimes almost dry. Formerly the 
 wood on the left hand south of the bridge, approached 
 close to the road, and there was a bank on the opposite 
 side, which was steep enough to pr.event escape on 
 horseback that way. The road from the north, as it 
 approaches the bridge, is narrowed between two banks of 
 six or eight feet high, and makes an angle just before it 
 reaches it. Here, close within the copse of wood on 
 the left, as you approach from the village, the three 
 militia lads, for lads they were, being hardly one and 
 twenty, concealed themselves, to wait for a suspicious 
 
 * We quote from the manuscript ana of Alderman Janson, to which 
 we shall frequently refer in the course of this work, 
 f Vide ana of Alderman Janson. 
 
104 
 
 stranger, of whom they had notice from a Mrs. Read, at 
 whose house they had stopt on their way towards Kings- 
 bridge. A Mr. Talmadge, a revolutionary officer, and 
 a member of the house of representatives, some years 
 since took occasion to stigmatize these young men, as 
 Cow Boys, out on a plundering expedition. The imputa 
 tion was false ; they were in possession of passes from 
 General Philip Van Courtlandt, to proceed beyond the 
 lines, as they were called, and of course by the laws of 
 war, authorized to be where they were. 
 
 " As Major Andre approached, according to the 
 universal tradition among the old people of Westchester, 
 John Paulding, darted out upon him and seized his 
 horse's bridle. Andre was exceedingly startled at the 
 suddenness of this rencontre, and in a moment of un 
 guarded surprise, exclaimed * Where do you belong 1' 
 
 " ; Below,' was the reply, which was the phrase com 
 monly used to designate the British, who were then in 
 possession of New York. 
 
 " l So do I,' was the rejoinder of Andre in the joyful 
 surprise of the moment. It has been surmised that this 
 hasty admission sealed his fate. But when we reflect that 
 he was suspected before, and that afterwards not even the 
 production of his pass from General Arnold, could prevail 
 upon the young men to let him go, it will appear sufficiently 
 probable that this imprudent avow r al was not the original 
 cause of his being detained and searched. After some 
 discussion and exhibiting his pass, he was taken into the 
 wood, and searched, not without a good deal of unwil 
 lingness on his part ; it is said he particularly resisted 
 the pulling off his right boot, which contained the 
 
105 
 
 treasonable documents. When these were discovered, 
 it is also said, Andre unguardedly exclaimed, ' Pm lost !' 
 but presently recollecting himself, he added, * No mat 
 ter they dare not hang me.' 
 
 " Finding himself discovered, Andre offered his 
 gold watch and a purse of guineas for his release. 
 These were rejected. He then proposed that they 
 should take and secrete him, while one of the party car 
 ried a letter, which he would write in their presence, to 
 Sir Henry Clinton, naming the ransom necessary to his 
 discharge, and which they might themselves specify, 
 pledging his honour that it should accompany their asso 
 ciate on his return. To this they likewise refused their 
 assent. Andre then threatened them with a severe 
 punishment for daring to disregard a pass from the com 
 manding general at West Point ; and bade them beware 
 of carrying him to head quarters, for they would only 
 be tried by a court martial and punished for mutiny. 
 Still the firmness of these young men sustained them 
 against all these threats and temptations, and they 
 finally delivered him to Colonel Jameson. It is no incon 
 siderable testimony to the motives and temptations thus 
 overcome, that ColonelJameson f an officer of the regular 
 army, commanding a point of great consequence, so far 
 yielded to the production of this pass, as to permit 
 Andre to write to General Arnold a letter, which enabled 
 that traitor to escape the ignominious fate he deserved. 
 
 " While in custody of the three Westchester volun 
 teers, Andre is said gradually to have recovered from 
 his depression of spirits, so as to sit with them after 
 supper, and chat about himself and his situation, still 
 
106 
 
 preserving his incognito of John Anderson. In the 
 course of the evening which he passed in their company, 
 he related the following singular little anecdote. It 
 seems the evening before he left London to embark for 
 America, he was in company with some young ladies 
 of his familiar acquaintance, when it was proposed, that 
 as he was going to a distant country on a perilous ser 
 vice, he should have his fortune told by a famous sybil, 
 at that time fashionable in town, in order that his friends 
 might know what had become of him while away. They 
 went accordingly, when the old beldam, after the usual 
 grimace and cant, on examining his palms, gravely an 
 nounced, * That he was going a great distance, and 
 would either be hanged, or come very near it, before he 
 returned.' All the company laughed at this awful an 
 nunciation, and joked with him on the way back. * But,' 
 added Andre, smiling, * I seem in a fair way of fulfilling 
 the prophecy.' 
 
 " It was not till Andre arrived at head quarters, 
 and concealment became no longer possible, that he 
 wrote the famous letter to G-eneral Washington, avow 
 ing his name and rank. He was tried by a court mar 
 tial, found guilty on his own confession, was hanged at 
 Tappan, where he met his fate with dignity, and excited 
 in the bosoms of the Americans that sympathy as a 
 criminal, which has since been challenged for him as a 
 hero and a martyr. A few years since the British con 
 sul at New York, caused his remains to be disinterred 
 and sent to England, where to perpetuate if possible the 
 delusion of his having suffered in an honourable enter- 
 prize, they were buried in Westminster Abbey, among 
 
107 
 
 heroes, statesmen, and poets. The thanks of congress, 
 with a medal, an annuity, and a farm, were bestowed on 
 the three young volunteers, and lately a handsome monu 
 ment has been erected by the corporation of New York, 
 to John Paulding, at Peekskill, where his body was 
 buried. The other two, Isaac Van Wart and David 
 Williams, still survive. 
 
 " About half a quarter of a mile south of Clark's Kill 
 Bridge, on the high road, formerly stood the great tulip, 
 or whitewood tree, which being the most conspicuous 
 object in the immediate vicinity, has been usually de 
 signated as the spot where Andre was taken and search 
 ed. It was one of the most magnificent of trees, one 
 hundred and eleven feet and a half high, the limbs pro 
 jecting on either side more than eighty feet from the 
 trunk, which was ten paces round. More than twenty 
 years ago it was struck by lightning, and its old weather 
 beaten trunk so shivered that it fell to the ground, and 
 it was remarked by the old people, that on the very 
 same day, they for the first time read in the newspapers 
 the death of Arnold. Arnold lived in England on a 
 pension, which we believe is still continued to his chil 
 dren. His name was always coupled even therewith in 
 famy ; insomuch that when the Duke of Richmond, Lord 
 Shelburne, and other violent opponents of the American 
 revolutionary war, were appointed to office, the late Duke 
 of Lauderdale remarked, that ' If the king wished to em 
 ploy traitors, he wondered that he should have over 
 looked Benedict Arnold.' For this he was called out 
 by Arnold, and they exchanged shots, but without effect. 
 Since then we know nothing of Arnold's history, till his 
 
 
108 
 
 death. He died as he lived the latter years of his 
 life, an object of detestation to his countrymen, of 
 contempt to the rest of the world. 
 
 " There is a romantic interest attached to the incidents 
 just recorded, which will always make the capture of 
 Andre a popular story ; and the time will come when it 
 will be chosen as the subject of poetry and the drama, 
 as it has been of history and tradition. There is already 
 a play founded upon it by Mr. William Dunlap, the writer 
 and translator of many dramatic works. Mr. Dunlap 
 has however we think committed a mistake, in which 
 however he is countenanced by most other writers that 
 of making Andre his hero. There is also extant a his 
 tory of the whole affair, written by Joshua Hett Smith, 
 the person who accompanied Andre across the river from 
 Havers traw, and whose memory is still in some measure 
 implicated in the treason of A mold It is written with 
 much passion and. prejudice, and abounds in toryisms. 
 Neither Washington, Greene, nor any of the members 
 of the court martial escape the most degrading imputa 
 tions : and the three young men who captured Andre are 
 stigmatized with cowardice, as well as treachery ! The 
 history is the production of a man, who seems to have 
 had but one object, that of stigmatizing the characters 
 of others, with a view of bolstering up his own. Wash 
 ington and Greene require no guardians to defend their 
 memory, at one time assailed by women and dotards, 
 on the score of having, the one presided at the just con 
 demnation of a spy ; the other of having refused his par 
 don to the threats and bullyings of the enemy. The re 
 putations of the three young captors of Andre have also 
 
109 
 
 been attacked, where one would least of all expect it - 
 in the congress of the United States, where some years 
 ago an honourable member, denounced them as Cow 
 Boys ; and declared to the house that Major Andre had 
 assured him, he would have been released, could he have 
 made good his promises of great reward from Sir Henry 
 Clinton. The characters of these men, were triumphant 
 ly vindicated by the publication of the testimony of nearly 
 all the aged inhabitants of Westchester who bore ample 
 testimony to the purity of their lives and the patriotism of 
 their motives. The slander is forgotten, and if its author 
 be hereafter remembered, no one will envy him his re 
 putation." 
 
 Tarrytown is still farther distinguished, by being within 
 a mile or two of Sleepy Hollow, the scene of a pleasant 
 legend of our friend GoefFrey Crayon, with whom in days 
 long past we have often explored this pleasant valley, 
 fishing along the brooks, though he was beyond all ques 
 tion the worst fisherman we ever knew. He had not the 
 patience of Job's wife : and without patience no man can 
 be a philosopher or a fisherman. 
 
 SING SING. 
 
 Sing Sing is a pleasant village, on the west side of the 
 river, about six miles above Tarrytown. It is a very 
 musical place (as its name imports,) as all the birds sing 
 charmingly ; and is blessed with a pure air, and delight 
 ful prospects. There is a silver mine a couple of hun 
 dred yards from the village, to which we recommend the 
 adventurers in the South American and North Carolinian 
 10 
 
110 
 
 mines to turn their attention. They will certainly lose 
 money by working it, but the money will be spent at 
 home and the village will benefit by their patriotism. If 
 they get ruined, there is a state r prison close by where 
 they will find an asylum. There is an old lady living 
 in the neighbourhood, who recollects hearing her father 
 say, that he had once before the revolutionary war, been 
 concerned in this mine, and there is a sixpence still pre 
 served in the family, coined from its produce, that only 
 cost him two hundred pounds. There is a new state 
 prison building here, from marble procured on the spot, 
 in which the doleful experiment of solitary confinement 
 is to be tried. It will not do. It will only be substitu 
 ting lingering torments for those of sudden death. With 
 out society, without books, without employment, without 
 anticipations, and without the recollection of any thing 
 but crimes, madness or death must be the consequence 
 of a protracted seclusion of this sort. A few days will 
 be an insufficient lesson, and a few months would be 
 worse than death madness or idiotism. It is a fashion 
 able Sunday excursion with a certain class of idlers in 
 New York, to visit this prison in the steam boat. It is 
 like going to look at their lodgings before they are finish 
 ed. Some of them will get there if they dont mind. Af 
 ter all^ we think those philanthropists are in the right who 
 are for abolishing the criminal code entirely, and relying 
 on the improved spirit of the age and the progress of 
 moral feeling. 
 
 Three or four miles east of Sing Sing, is the CHAPPA- 
 auA SPRING, which at one time came very nigh getting 
 the better of Ballston, Saratoga and Harrowgate, for it 
 
 
Ill 
 
 is a fact well authenticated that one or two persons of 
 good fashion came very near to be cured of that incura 
 ble disease called " I dont know what," by drinking these 
 waters. Upon the strength of this, some " public spirit 
 ed individuals" erected a great hotel for the public ac 
 commodation; We wish we knew their names, a? 
 we look upon every man who builds a tavern, as a 
 public benefactor, upon the authority of the famous prize 
 poet, heretofore quoted, who says 
 
 " Thrice happy land ! to glorious fates a prey, 
 Where taverns multiply, and cots decay ! 
 And happy they, the happiest of their kind, 
 Who ease and freedom in a tavern find ! 
 No household cares molest the chosen man 
 Who at the tavern tosses off his can, 
 Who far from all the irksome cares of life, 
 And most of all that care of cares, a wife, 
 Lives free and easy, all the livelong year, 
 And dies without the tribute of a tear, 
 Save from some Boniface's bloodshot eye, 
 Who grieves that such a liberal soul should die, 
 And on that ' Canongate of Chronicles,' the door, . 
 Leave such a long unliquidated score." 
 
 POINT NO POINT. 
 
 Dkectly opposite to Sing Sing is Point no Point, a 
 singular range of highlands of the trap formation, which 
 ure extremely apt to deceive the traveller who dont 
 %< understand trap" as the geologists say. In sailing 
 along up the river, a point of land appears at all times, 
 {except in a dense fog or a dark night, when we advise 
 
112 
 
 the reader not to look out for it,) projecting far into the 
 river. On arriving opposite, it seems to recede, and to 
 appear, again a little beyond. Some travellers compare, 
 this Point no Point, to a great metaphysician, who rea 
 sons through a whole quarto, without coming to a con 
 clusion. Others liken it to the great Dr. who 
 
 plays round his subject like children round a bonfire, but 
 never ventures too near, lest he should catch it, and be 
 like burn his fingers. Others again approximate it, to 
 the speech of a member of congress, which always 
 seems coming to the point, but never arrives at it. 
 The happiest similitude however in our opinion, was 
 that of a young lady, who compared a dangling dandy 
 admirer of hers, to Point no Point, " Because," said she, 
 " he is always pointing to his game r but never makes a 
 dead point." 
 
 If the traveller should happen to go ashore here, by 
 following the road from Slaughter's Landing, up the 
 mountain about half a mile, he will come suddenly upon 
 a beautiful sheet of pure water nine miles in circum 
 ference, called Snedecker's Lake, a name abhorred of 
 Poetry and the Nine. The southern extremity is bound 
 ed by a steep pine clad mountain, which dashes head 
 long down almost perpendicularly into the bosom of the 
 lake, while all the other portions of its graceful circle 
 are rich in cultivated rural beauties. The Brothers of 
 the Angle may here find pleasant sport, and peradven- 
 ture catch a pike, the noblest of all fishes, because he 
 has the noblest appetite. Alas ! how is the pride of 
 human reason, mortified at the thought, that a pike not 
 one tenth the bulk of a common sized man, can eat as 
 
113 
 
 much as half a score of the most illustrious gourmands ! 
 and that too without dyspepsia, or apoplexy. Lei 
 not man boast any longer of his being the lord of the 
 creation. Would we were a pike and lord of Snedeck- 
 er's Lake, for as the great prize poet sings in a fit of 
 hungry inspiration 
 
 " I sing the Pike ! not him of lesser fame, 
 At Little York, who gained a deathless name, 
 And died a martyr to his country's weal, 
 Instead of dying of a glorious meal 
 But thee, O Pike ! lord of the finny crew, 
 King of the waters, and of eating too. 
 Imperial glutton, that for tribute takes 
 The glittering small fry. of a hundred lakes 
 No surfeits on thy ample feeding wait, 
 No apoplexy shortens thy long date, 
 The patriarch of eating, thou dost shine ; 
 A century of gluttony is thine. 
 Sure the old tale of transmigration's true, 
 The soul of Heliogababus dwells in you !" 
 
 STONY POINT. 
 
 This is a rough picturesque point pushing boldly out 
 into the river, directly opposite to Verplanck's Point on 
 the east side. The remains of a redoubt are still to be 
 seen on its brow, and here was the scene of one of the 
 boldest exploits of one of the boldest spirits of a revo 
 lution fruitful in both. The fort was carried at mid 
 night at the point of the bayonet, by a party of Ameri 
 cans under General Anthony Wayne, the fire eater of 
 his day. In order to judge of this exploit, it is neees- 
 10* 
 
114 
 
 sary to examine the place and see the extreme difficult) 
 of its approach. The last exploit of " Mad Anthony," 
 as he was christened by his admiring soldiers who would 
 follow him any where, was the decisive defeat of the 
 Indians at the battle of Miami in 1794, which gave rest 
 to a long harassed and extensive frontier, and led to 
 the treaty of Greenville, by which the United States 
 acquired an immense accession of territory. He died 
 at Presque Isle on Lake Erie, in the fifty-second year 
 of his age. It is believed that Pennsylvania yet owes 
 him a monument. 
 
 There is a light house erected here on the summit of 
 the point. We have heard people laugh at it as en 
 tirely useless, but doubtless they did not know what 
 they were talking about. Light houses are of two 
 kinds, the useful and the ornamental. The first are to 
 guide mariners, the others to accommodate the lovers 
 of the picturesque. The light house at Stony Point is 
 of this latter description. It is a fine object either in 
 approaching or leaving the Highlands, and foul befall 
 the carping Smelfungus, who does not thank the public 
 spirited gentleman, (whoever he was,) to whom we of 
 the picturesque order are indebted for the contemplation 
 of this beautiful superfluity. Half the human race, 
 (we mean no disparagement to the lasses we adore,) 
 a.nd indeed half the world, is only made to look at, and 
 why not a light house ? The objections are untenable, 
 for if a light house be of no other use, it affords a snug 
 place for some lazy philosopher to loll out the rest of 
 his life on the feather bed of a snug sinecure. 
 
 We now approach the Highlands, and advise the 
 
115 
 
 reader to shut himself up in the cabin and peruse the 
 following pages attentively, as it is our intention to give 
 a sketch of this fine scenery, so infinitely superior to 
 the reality, that Nature "will not be able to recognise 
 herself in our picture. 
 
 Genius of the picturesque sublime, or the sublime 
 picturesque, inspire us ! Thou that didst animate the 
 soul of John Bull, insomuch that if report says true, he 
 did once get up from dinner, before it was half discuss 
 ed, to admire the sublime projection of Antony's Nose. 
 Thou that erewhile didst allure a first rate belle and 
 beauty from adjusting her curls at the looking glass, to 
 gaze for more than half a minute, at beauties almost 
 equal to her own. Thou that dost sometimes actually 
 inspirit that last best work of the ninth part of a man 
 the dandy actually to yawn with delight at the Crow's 
 Nest, and pull up his breeches at sight of Fort Putnam. 
 Thou genius of travellers, and tutelary goddess of 
 bookmaking, grant us a pen of fire, ink of lightning, 
 and words of thunder, to do justice to the mighty 
 theme ! 
 
 First comes the gigantic Donderbarrack all moun 
 tains are called gigantic, because the ancient race of 
 giants was turned into mountains, which accounts for 
 the race being extinct first comes the mighty Donder 
 barrack, president of hills we allow of no king moun 
 tains in our book whose head is hid in the clouds, 
 whenever the clouds come down low enough ; at whose 
 foot dwells in all the feudal majesty (only a great deal 
 better) of a Rhoderick Dhu, the famous highland chief 
 tain, Caldwell, lord of Donderbarrack, and all the little 
 
116 
 
 hills that grow out of his ample sides like warts on a 
 giant's nose. To this mighty chieftain, all the steam 
 boats do homage, by ringing of bells, stopping then- 
 machinery, and sending their boats ashore to carry him 
 the customary tribute, to wit, store of visiters, whom it 
 is his delight to entertain at his hospitable castle. This 
 stately pile is of great antiquity ; its history being lost 
 in the dark ages of the last century, when the indian 
 prowied about these hills, and shot his deer, ere the 
 Drolling wave of the white man swept him away forever. 
 Above as the prize poet sings 
 
 " High on the cliffs the towering eagles soar 
 But hush my muse for poetry's a bore." 
 
 Turning the base of Donderbarrack, the nose of all 
 noses, Antony's Nose, gradually displays itself to the 
 enraptured eye, which must be kept steadily fixed on 
 these our glowing pages. Such a nose is not seen 
 every day. Not the famous hero of Slawkdmburgius, 
 whose proboscis emulated the steeple of Strasburg, 
 ver had such a nose to his face. Taliacotius himself 
 ever made such a nose in his life. It is worth while 
 to go ten miles to hear it blow you would mistake it 
 for a trumpet. The most curious thing about it is, that 
 it looks no more like a nose than my foot. But now 
 we think of it, there is still something more curious 
 connected with this nose. There is not a soul born 
 within five miles of it, but has a nose of most jolly 
 dimensions not quite as large as the mountain, but 
 pretty well. Nay, what is still more remarkable, more 
 than one person has recovered his nose, by regularly 
 
 : 
 
117 
 
 blowing the place where it ought to be, with a white 
 pocket handkerchief, three times a day, at the foot oi" 
 the mountain, in honour of St. Antony. In memory 
 of these miraculous restorations, it is the custom for 
 the passengers in steam boats, to salute it in passing 
 with a universal blow of the nose : after which, they 
 shake their kerchiefs at it, and put them carefully in 
 their pockets. No young lady ever climbs to the top 
 of this stately nose, without affixing her white cambric 
 handkerchief to a stick, placing it upright in the ground, 
 and leaving it waving there, in hopes that all her pos 
 terity may be blessed with goodly noses. 
 
 Immediately on passing the Nose the Sugar Loaf ap 
 pears ; keep your eye on the book for your life you 
 will be changed to a loaf of sugar if you dont. This has 
 happened to several of the followers of Lot's wife, who 
 thereby became even sweeter than they were before. 
 Remember poor Eurydice, whose fate was sung in bur 
 lesque by an infamous outcast bachelor, who it is said 
 was afterwards punished, by marrying a shrew who made 
 him mix the mustard every day for dinner. 
 
 WEST POINT. 
 
 " If the traveller," observes Alderman Janson, " in 
 tends stopping here to visit the military academy, and 
 . its admirable superintendent, I advise him to make his 
 will, before he ventures into the landing boat. That 
 more people have not been drowned, in this adventurous 
 experiment, can only be accounted for on the supposition 
 that miracles are growing to be but every day matters. 
 
118 
 
 There is I believe a law regulating the mode of landing 
 passengers from steam boats, but it is a singular fact 
 that laws will not execute themselves notwithstanding all 
 the wisdom of the legislature. -Not that I mean to find 
 fault with the precipitation with which people and luggage 
 are tumbled together into the boat, and foisted ashore at 
 the rate of fifteen miles an hour. At least five minutes 
 is saved in this way in the passage to Albany, and so 
 much added to the delights of the tourist, who is thereby 
 enabled to spend five minutes more at the springs. Who 
 would not risk a little drowning, and a little scalding for 
 such an object ? Certainly the most precious of all com 
 modities is time, especially to people who dont know 
 what to do with it, except indeed it be money to a miser 
 who never spends any. It goes to my heart to find fault 
 with any thing in this best of all possible worlds, where 
 the march of mind is swifter than a race horse or a steam 
 boat, and goes hand in hand with the progress of public 
 improvement, like Darby and Joan, or Jack and Gill, 
 blessing this fortunate generation, and preparing the way 
 for a world of steam engines, spinning jennies, and ma 
 chinery : insomuch that there would be no use at all for 
 such an animal as man in this world any more, if steam 
 engines and spinning jennies would only make them 
 selves. But the reader will I trust excuse me this once, 
 for venturing to hint with a modesty that belongs to my 
 nature, that all this hurry this racing this tumbling of 
 men, women, children and baggage into a boat, hel- 
 ter skelter and sending them ashore at the risk of their 
 lives might possibly be excusable if it were done for 
 the public accommodation. But the fact is not so. It 
 
119 
 
 is nothing but the struggle of interested rivalry ; the ef 
 fort to run down a .rival boat, and get all, instead of 
 sharing with others. The public accommodation re 
 quires that boats should go at different times of the day, 
 yet they prefer starting at the same hour ; nay, the same 
 moment ; eager to sweep off the passengers along the 
 river, and risking the lives of people at West Point, that 
 they may take up the passengers at Newburgh. The 
 truth is, in point of ease and comfort, convenience and 
 safety, the public is not now half so well off, as during 
 the existence of what the said public was persuaded to 
 call a great grievance the exclusive righl of Mr. 
 Fulton. 
 
 " There is a most comfortable hotel at West Point, 
 kept by Mr. Cozens, a most obliging and good humoured 
 man, to whom we commend all our readers, with an as 
 surance that they need not fear being cozened by him. 
 Nothing can be more interesting than the situation of 
 West Point, the grand object to which it is devoted, and 
 the magnificent views it affords in all directions. If 
 there be any inspiration in the sublime productions of 
 nature, or if the mind as some believe, receives an im 
 pulse or direction from local situation, there is not per 
 haps in the world, a spot more favourable to the produc 
 tion of a race of heroes, and men of science. Secluded 
 from the effeminate, or vitious allurements of cities, both 
 mind and body, preserve a vigorous strength and fresh 
 ness, eminently favourable to the development of each 
 without enfeebling either. Manly studies and manly 
 exercise go hand in hand, and manly sentiments are the 
 natural consequence. Their bodies are invigorated by 
 
120 
 
 military exercise and habits, while their intellects are 
 strengthened, expanded and purified by the acquirement 
 of those high branches of science, those graces of litera 
 ture, and those elegant accomplishments, which when all 
 combined constitute the complete man. No one whose 
 mind is susceptible of noble emotions, can see these fine 
 young fellows going through their exercises on the plain 
 of West Point, to the sound of the bugle repeated by a 1 
 dozen echoes of the mountains, while all the magnificence 
 of nature combines to add beauty and dignity to the scene 
 and the occasion, without feeling his bosom swell and 
 glow with patriotic pride. 
 
 " If these young men require an example to warn or 
 to stimulate, they will find it in the universal execration 
 heaped upon the name, and the memory of Benedict 
 Arnold, contrasted with the reverential affection, that 
 .will forever descend to the latest posterity as an heir 
 loom, with which every American pronounces the name 
 of Washington. It was at West Point that Arnold be 
 trayed his country and it was on the hills opposite West 
 Point, that Washington, wintered with his army, during 
 the most gloomy period of our revolution, rendered still 
 more gloomy by the treason of Arnold, so happily frus 
 trated by the virtue of the American yeomanry. The 
 remains of the huts are still to be seen on Redoubt Hill, 
 and its vicinity, and there is a fine spring on the banks of a 
 brook, nigh by, to this day called Washington's, from& 
 being the spring whence the water was procured for his 
 drinking. It issues from the side of a bank, closely 
 embowered with trees and is excessively cold. The 
 old people in the vicinity who generally live a hundred 
 
years, still cherish the tradition of its uses, and direct 
 the attention of inquirers to it, with a feeling than 
 which nothing can more affectingly indicate the depth 
 of that devotion implanted in the heart of America 
 for her good father. Close to the spring are two 
 of the prettiest little cascades to be found any where. 
 Indeed the whole neighbourhood abounds in beautiful 
 views and romantic associations, worthy the pen or pen 
 cil, and it is worth while to cross over in a boat from 
 West Point to spend a morning here in rambling, 
 during which the West Point foundry, the most com 
 plete establishment of its kind in the new world, may 
 be visited." 
 
 On the opposite side of the river from West Point, and 
 about two miles distant, lies COLD SPRING, a pleasant 
 thriving little village, from whence, to Fishkill, is per 
 haps the pleasantest ride in the whole country. A road 
 has been made along the foot of the mountains. On 
 one hand it is washed by the river on the other over 
 hung by Bull and Breakneck Hills, whose bases 
 have been blown up in many places to afford room for it 
 to pass. The prospects on every hand are charming, 
 and at the turning at the base of Breakneck Hill, there 
 opens to the north and northwest a view, which when 
 seen will not soon be forgotten. 
 
 Nearly opposite Cold Spring, at the foot of two moun 
 tains inaccessible except from the river, lies the CITY op 
 FAITH a city by brevet ; founded by an enterprising 
 person, with the intention of cutting out Washington, 
 and making it the capital of the United States and 
 indeed of the new world. He has satisfied himself 
 
 11 
 
122 
 
 that the spot thus aptly selected, is the nearest possible 
 point of navigation, to the great Northern Pacific, and 
 contemplates a rail road, from thence to the mouth of 
 Columbia River. This must necessarily concentrate 
 the intercourse on this fortunate spot. After which his 
 intention is to dig down the Crow's Nest and Butter Hill, 
 or decompose the rocks with vinegar, in order that tra 
 vellers may get at his emporium, by land, without break 
 ing their necks. He has already six inhabitants to 
 begin with, and wants nothing to the completion of this 
 great project, but a bank a subscription of half a 
 dozen millions from the government a loan of " the 
 credit of the state," for about as much, and a little more 
 faith in the people. We think the prospect quite cheer 
 ing, and would rejoice in the prospective glories of the 
 City of Faith, were it not for the apprehension that it 
 will prove fatal to the Ohio and Chesapeake Canal, and 
 swallow up the Mamakating and Lacawaxan. This 
 business of founding cities in America is considered a 
 mere trifle. They make a great noise about Romulus 
 the founder of Rome, and Peter the founder of St. Pe 
 tersburg! We knew a man who had founded twelve 
 great cities, some of which like Rome are already in 
 ruins, and yet he never valued himself on that account. 
 As you emerge from the Highlands, a noble vista ex 
 pands itself gradually to the view. The little towns of 
 NEW CORNWALL, NEW WINDSOR, and NEWBURGH, are 
 f seen in succession along the west bank of the river^ 
 which here as if rejoicing at its freedom from the moun 
 tain barrier expands itself into a wide bay, with Fishkill 
 and Matteawan on the east, and the three little towns 
 on the west, the picturesque shores of which rise gratf- 
 
123 
 
 ually into highlands, bounded in the distance to the 
 northwest by the blue summits of the Kaatskill Moun 
 tains. Into this bay on the east enters Fishkill Creek, 
 a fine stream which waters some of the richest and most 
 beautiful vallies of Dutchess County. Approaching the 
 Hudson, it exhibits several picturesque little cascades, 
 which have lately been spoiled by dams and manufacto 
 ries, those atrocious enemies to all picturesque beauty, 
 as the prize poet exclaims in a fine burst of enthusiasm 
 poetical enthusiasm, consisting in swearing roundly. 
 
 " Mill dams, be d d, and all his race accurs'd, 
 
 Who d d a stream by damming it the first !" 
 
 On the west and nearly opposite, enters Murderer's 
 Creek, which after winding its way through the delight 
 ful vale of Canterbury, as yet unvisited and undescri- 
 bed, by tourist or traveller, tumbles over a villanous 
 mill dam into the river. If the traveller has a mind for 
 a beautiful ride in returning from the springs, let him 
 land at Newburgh, and follow the turnpike road through 
 the village of Canterbury, on to the Clove, a pass of the 
 great range of mountains, through which the Ramapo 
 plunges its way, among the rocks. The ride through 
 this pass is highly interesting, and the spot where the 
 Ramapo emerges from the southern side of the moun 
 tains and joining the Mauwy, courses its way through a 
 narrow vale of exquisite beauty, till it is lost in the 
 Pompton Plains in the river of that name, is highly 
 worthy of attention. The roads are as good as usual, 
 but the accommodations are not the best in the world, 
 and those who love good eating and good beds, better 
 rhan nature's beauties, (among which we profess omv 
 
124 
 
 selves,) may go some other way. Those who choose 
 this route by way of variety, must by no means forget 
 the good house of Mynheer Roome at Pompton village, 
 famed in song, where they will meet with mortal store 
 of good things ; sweetmeats of divers sorts, cakes in 
 numerable and unutterable, and hear the Dutch lan 
 guage spoken in all its original purity, with the true Flo 
 rentine accent. 
 
 But let the traveller beware of talking to him about 
 turnpikes, rail ways or canals, all which he abhorreth. 
 In particular avoid the subject of the MORRIS CANAL, 
 at the very name of which Mynheer's pipe will be seen 
 to pour forth increasing volumes of angry srnoke, and 
 like another Vesuvius, he will disgorge whole torrents 
 of red hot Dutch lava. In truth Mynheer Roome has 
 an utter contempt for modern improvements, and we 
 dont know but he is half right " Dey always cost more 
 dan dey come to," he says, and those who contemplate 
 the sober primitive independence of the good Mynheer, 
 and see his fat cattle, his fat negroes, and his fat self, 
 encompassed by rich meadows, and smiling fields, all 
 unaided by the magic of modern improvements, will be 
 apt to think with Mynheer " dat one half dese tings dey 
 call improvements," add little if any, to human happi 
 ness, or domestic independence. 
 
 Within a couple of hundred yards of Mynheer Roome's 
 door, the Pompton, Ramapo and Ringwood, three little 
 rivers, in whose very bottoms you can see your face 
 unite their waters, gathered from the hills to the north 
 and west, and assuming the name of the first, wind 
 through the extensive plain in many playful meanders. 
 

 125 
 
 almost out of character for Dutch rivers, till they filial 
 ly disappear, through a break in the hills towards the 
 south. From Pompton there is a good road to Hobo- 
 ken, by diverging a little from which, the traveller may 
 visit the falls of Passaic, which were once the pride 
 of nature, who has lately resigned them to her rival art 
 and almost disowns them now. But it is high time to 
 return to Murderer's Creek and Canterbury Vale, which 
 hath been sung by the prize poet so often quoted, in the 
 following strains, which partake of the true mystical 
 
 metaphysical sublime. 
 
 ' 
 
 " As I was going to Canterbury, 
 I. met twelve hay cocks in a fury, 
 When as I gaz'd a hieroglyphic bat 
 Skimm'd o'er the zenith in a slip shod hat." 
 
 From which the intelligent traveller will derive as clear 
 an idea of the singular charms of this vale, as from 
 most descriptions in prose or verse. 
 
 The name of Murderer's Creek is said to be derived 
 from the following incidents. 
 
 Little more than a century ago, the beautiful region 
 watered by this stream, was possessed by a small tribe 
 of indiaiis, which has long since become extinct or been 
 incorporated with some other savage nation of the west. 
 Three or four hundred yards from where the stream dis 
 charges itself into the Hudson, a white family of the 
 name of Stacey, had established itself, in a log house, 
 by tacit permission of the tribe, to whom Stacey had 
 made himself useful by his skill in a variety of little arts 
 highly estimated by the savages. In particular a friend- 
 11* 
 
126 
 
 ship subsisted between him and an old indian called 
 Naoman, who often came to his house and partook of 
 his hospitality. The indians never forgive injuries or 
 forget benefits. The family consisted of Stacey, his 
 wife, and two children, a boy and girl, the former five, 
 the latter three years old. 
 
 One day Naoman, came to Stacey's log hut, 
 in his absence, lighted his pipe and sat down. 
 He looked very serious, sometimes sighed deeply, 
 but said not a word. Stacey's wife asked him what 
 was the matter, and if he was sick. He shook his 
 head, sighed, but said nothing, and soon went away. 
 The next day he came again, and behaved in the same 
 manner. Stacey's wife began to think strange of this, 
 and related it to her husband, who advised her to urge 
 the old man to an explanation the next time he came. 
 Accordingly when he repeated his visit the day after, she 
 was more importunate than usual. At last the old 
 indian said, " I am a red man, and the pale faces are 
 our enemies why should I speak?' But my husband 
 and I are your friends ; you have eaten salt with us a 
 thousand times, and my children have sat on your knee 
 as often. If you have any thing on your mind tell it 
 me. It will cost me my life if it is known, and the 
 white-faced women are not good at keeping secrete,' 5 
 replied Naoman. Try me, and see. " Will you swear 
 by your Great Spirit, you will tell none but your hus 
 band?" I have none else to tell. "But will you 
 swear ?" I do swear by our Great Spirit, I will tell 
 none but my husband. " Not if my tribe should kill 
 
127 
 
 you for not telling?" Not if your tribe should kill -me 
 for not telling. 
 
 Naoman then proceeded to tell her that, owing to 
 some encroachments of the white people below the 
 mountains, his tribe had become irritated, and were re 
 solved that night to massacre all the white settlers with 
 in their reach. That she must send for her husband, 
 inform him of the danger, and as secretly and speedily 
 as possible take their canoe, and paddle with all haste 
 over the river to Fishkill for safety. " Be quick, and 
 do nothing that may excite suspicion," said Naoman as 
 he departed. The good wife sought her husband, who 
 was down on the river fishing, told him the story, and 
 as no time was to be lost, they proceeded to their boat, 
 which was unluckily filled with water. It took some 
 time to clear it out, and meanwhile Stacey recollected 
 his gun which had been left behind. He proceeded to 
 the house and returned with it. All this took up con 
 siderable time, and precious time it proved to this poor 
 family. 
 
 The daily visits of old Naoman, and his more than 
 ordinary gravity, had excited suspicion in some of the 
 tribe, who had accordingly paid particular attention to 
 the movements of Stacey. One of the young indians 
 who had been kept on the watch, seeing the whole fa 
 mily about to take their boat, ran to the little indian vil 
 lage, about a mile off, and gave the alarm. Five in 
 dians collected, ran down to the river side where their 
 canoes were moored, jumped in, and paddled after 
 Stacey, who by this time had got some distance out into 
 the stream. They gained on him so fast, that twice he 
 
128 
 
 dropt his paddle and took up his gun. But his wife 
 prevented his shooting, by telling him, that if he fired, 
 and they were afterwards overtaken, they would meet no 
 mercy from the indians. He accordingly refrained, 
 and plied his paddle, till the sweat rolled in big drops 
 down his forehead. All would not do ; they were over 
 taken within a hundred yards of the shore, and carried 
 back with shouts of yelling triumph. 
 
 When they got ashore, the indians set fire to Sta- 
 cey's house, and dragged himself, his wife and children, 
 to their village. Here the principal old men, and Nao- 
 man among the rest, assembled to deliberate on the 
 affair. The chief among them, stated that some one of 
 the tribe had undoubtedly been guilty of treason, in ap 
 prising Stacey the white man of the designs of the 
 tribe, whereby they took the alarm, and had well nigh 
 escaped. He proposed to examine the prisoners, as to 
 who gave the information. The old men assented to 
 this ; and Naoman among the rest. Stacey was first 
 interrogated by one of the old men, who spoke English, 
 and interpreted to the others. Stacey refused to betray 
 his informant. His wife was then questioned, while at 
 the same moment, two indians stood threatening the 
 f two children with tomahawks in case she did not con 
 fess. She attempted to evade the truth, by declaring that 
 she had a dream the night before which had alarmed 
 her, and that she had persuaded her husband to fly. 
 " The Great Spirit never deigns to talk in dreams to a 
 white face," said the old indian : " Woman, thou hast 
 two tongues and two faces. Speak the truth, or thy 
 children shall surely die," The little boy and girl were 
 
129 
 
 then brought close to her, and the two savages stood 
 over them, ready to execute their bloody orders. 
 
 " Wilt thou name," said the old indian, " the red man 
 who betrayed his tribe. I will ask thee three times." 
 The mother answered not. " Wilt thou name the trai 
 tor? This is the second time." The poor mother 
 looked at her husband, and then at her children, and 
 stole a glance at Naoman, who sat smoking his pipe 
 with invincible gravity. She wrung her hands and 
 wept ; but remained silent. " Wilt thou name the 
 traitor 1 'tis the third and last time." The agony of the 
 mother waxed more bitter ; again she sought the eye of 
 Naoman, but it was cold and motionless ; a pause of a 
 moment awaited her reply, and the next moment the 
 tomahawks were raised over, the heads of the children, 
 who besought their mother not to let them be murdered. 
 
 " Stop," cried Naoman. All eyes were turned upon 
 him. " Stop," repeated he, in a tone of authority. 
 " White woman, thou hast kept thy word with me to 
 the last moment. I am the traitor. I have eaten of 
 the salt, warmed myself at the fire, shared the kindness 
 of these Christian white people, and it was I that told 
 them of their danger. I am a withered, leafless, branch 
 less trunk ; cut me down if you will. I am ready." A 
 yell of indignation sounded on all sides. Naoman de 
 scended from the little bank where he sat, shrouded his 
 face with his mantle of skins and submitted to his fate. 
 He fell dead at the feet of the white woman by a blow 
 of the tomahawk. 
 
 But the sacrifice of Naoman, and the firmness of the, 
 Christian white woman^ did not suffice to save the lives 
 
130 
 
 of the other victims. They perished how it is needless 
 to say ; and the memory of their fate has been pre 
 served in the name of the pleasant stream on whose 
 banks they lived and died, which to this day is called 
 Murderer's Creek. 
 
 NEW CORNWALL, AND NEW WINDSOR. 
 
 It is bad policy to call places new. The name will 
 do very well for a set out, but when they begin to 
 assume an air of antiquity, it becomes quite unsuitable. 
 It is too much the case with those who stand godfa 
 thers to towns in our country. They seem to think 
 because we live in a new world, every thing must be 
 christened accordingly. The most flagrant instance of 
 this enormity is New York, which although ten times 
 as large, and ten times as handsome as York in Eng 
 land, is destined by this infamous cognomen of" new," 
 to play second to that old worn out town, which has no 
 thing in it worth seeing except its great minster. The 
 least people can do after condemning a town to be call 
 ed neiu, is to paint their houses every now and then, that 
 the place may do honour to its christening. But be 
 tween ourselves, Monsieur Traveller, the whole thing is 
 absurd. Some score of centuries hence, we shall have 
 a dozen clutterheaded antiquaries, disputing whether 
 New York and old York, were not one and the same 
 city ; and it is just as likely as not, that the latter will 
 run away with all the glories of the queen of the new 
 world. Why not call our cities by a name utterly new 
 to human ears, Conecocheague, Amoonoosuck, Chaba- 
 
131 
 
 quidick, Ompompanoosuck, or Kathtippakamuck ; there 
 would then be no danger of their being confounded with 
 those of the old world, and they would stand by them 
 selves in sesquipedalian dignity, till the end of time, 
 or till people had not breath to utter their names. 
 
 " NEW CORNWALL," as Alderman Janson truly ob 
 serves, " is assuredly not one of the largest towns on 
 the river ; but it might be so, and it is not its fault that 
 it is not six times as large as Pekin, London, Paris or 
 Constantinople, as it can be clearly proved that it might 
 have extended half a dozen leagues towards any of the 
 four quarters of the world without stumbling over any 
 thing of consequence except a river and a mountain. 
 If its illustrious founders (whose names are unknown) 
 instead of confining their energies to building a few 
 wooden houses, which they forgot to paint even with 
 Spanish brown, had cut a canal to the Pacific Ocean, 
 made a rail road to Passamaquoddy, and a tunnel under 
 the Atlantic, and erected three hundred thousand hand 
 some brick houses with folding doors, and marble man 
 tel pieces, without doubt it might have been at this mo 
 ment the greatest city in the known world. I know 
 that a certain ignoramus of a critic denies all this, inas 
 much as the river is in the way towards the east and 
 therefore it cannot extend that way. But I suppose 
 this blockhead never heard of turning the course of the 
 Hudson into the channel of Fishkill Creek, and so at 
 the same time improving the navigation of both, and 
 affording ample space for the growth of the city by 
 digging down Fishkill Mountains. Nay, we dare affirm 
 he is totally ignorant of the mode of sucking a river. 
 
132 
 
 or even a sea dry by means of sponges, whereby it 
 may be easily passed over dry shod, a method still pur 
 sued by the people of Terra Incognita, and those that 
 carry their heads below their necks, mentioned by He 
 rodotus. We therefore affirm that the only reason why 
 this is not the greatest city in the universe, is because 
 the founders did not do as I have just said. If the 
 aforesaid blockhead of a critic denies this, may he never 
 be the founder of a great city, or even a great book. 
 He ought to know, blockhead as he is, that in this 
 age of improvement, every thing is possible ; and that 
 the foundations of a great city may be laid any where 
 in despite of that old superannuated baggage * Nature,' 
 whom nobody minds now a days. Only give me a bank, 
 and the liberty of issuing as much paper as I please, 
 without the disagreeable necessity of redeeming it ; or 
 only let the state of New York * loan me its credit' for 
 a million or so, and I will engage to turn Nature topsy 
 turvy, or commit any other enormity in the way of con 
 ferring benefits on the community. If Archimedes had 
 Imown any thing about banks, he would have required 
 no other basis for the lever with which he was to raise 
 the world. But unfortunately for the march of mind 
 and the progress of public improvements, the banking 
 capital of this portion of the republic was diverted to 
 one of the most singular objects, by one .of the most 
 singular conspiracies on record. 
 
 " It seems" continues the alderman, " the people of 
 
 New York, with rather more discretion than they have 
 
 , since displayed in similar cases, became at one time 
 
 rather shy of the paper money of certain country banks, 
 
133 
 
 and among others the bank in question. Whereupon 
 the directors, as fame loudly reported at that time, did 
 incontinently get together and determine to starve the 
 good citizens of New York into swallowing their notes 
 by cutting off their supplies of Goshen butter. Ac 
 cordingly as the aforesaid goddess did loudly trumpet 
 forth to the world, divers agents, directors, clerks and 
 cashiers, were sent into the rich bottoms of Orange 
 County, to contract for all the butter made or to be 
 made, during that remarkable year. The consequence 
 was that a horrible scarcity took place in New York, the 
 burghers whereof had for a long time nothing to butter 
 their parsnips with but fair words. But the good people 
 ef the metropolis held out manfully, refusing for a long 
 time to swallow the aforesaid bank notes, until being 
 at length actually reduced to the necessity of substitu 
 ting Philadelphia butter, they gave in at last and agreed 
 to swallow any thing rather than the said butter. Here 
 upon the butter and the notes came to market in great 
 quantities, and such was the sympathy which grew up 
 between them, that the latter actually turned yellow, and 
 assumed the exact colour of the former. In memory 
 of this renowned victory over the New Yorkers, the 
 county was called Orange, in honour of the butter, which 
 is exactly of that colour, and all the milk maids to this 
 day wear orange coloured ribbons, as they sit milking 
 their cows and singing Dutch songs." 
 
 This is not the place for dilating on the manifold 
 
 advantages of banks and paper money, which last we 
 
 look upon as the greatest discovery of modern times, or 
 
 indeed of all times whatever. But we hope the en- 
 
 12 
 
134 
 
 lightened traveller, will for a few moment's withdraw 
 his eyes from the beauties of the scenery, to attend to 
 a few of the most prominent blessings of paper money 
 and banks. 
 
 In the first place, the institution of paper money has 
 called forth the talents of divers persons in the fine arts, 
 as is exemplified in the numerous attempts at imita- 
 ti6n, which is the basis of the fine arts. Before the 
 sublime invention of paper money, it was not worth 
 while for a man to risk his neck or his liberty, for the 
 paltry purpose of counterfeiting a silver dollar ; but 
 now since the forgery of a single note, and the suc 
 cessful passing it away, may put a thousand dollars in 
 the pocket, there is some stimulus to the exercise of 
 genius. Besides, a man can carry in his pocket book 
 forged notes, to the amount of hundreds of thousands 
 of dollars, without exciting attention ; whereas the same 
 amount in counterfeit specie, would require a dozen 
 wagons or a steam boat, and inevitably excite sus 
 picion. 
 
 Thus it will be found, that this branch of the fine 
 arts has improved and extended prodigiously under the 
 institution of paper money ; insomuch that the works of 
 our best artists have been frequently imitated so suc 
 cessfully as to impose upon the most experienced eye. 
 In addition to this singular advantage, it cannot be de 
 nied, that every dollar thus created by this spirit of 
 emulation in the fine arts, adds so much to the public 
 wealth, and forms an accession to the circulating me 
 dium. When at last its circulation is stopt, by a disco 
 very ? it will generally be found in the hands of some 
 
135 
 
 ignorant labourer, so poor that the loss of a few dollars, 
 is a matter of little consequence, as he would at all 
 events be poor, either with or without them. Besides, 
 he deserves to suffer for his ignorance, like every body 
 else in the world. 
 
 Another great blessing of paper money is, that it 
 makes every body believe themselves richer than they 
 really are, as is exemplified in the following authentic 
 story of a Connecticut farmer, which we extract from 
 the annals of that state. 
 
 The farmer had a sow and pigs, just at the time a 
 little bank was set up in a village hard by, which by 
 making money plenty raised the price of his sow and 
 pigs, some fifty per cent. This tempted him to sell 
 them, which he did, for a high price, as much as fifty 
 dollars. The next spring he wanted another sow and 
 pigs for his winter pork. In the meanwhile, the paper 
 of the little bank having been issued with too great 
 liberality, had depreciated very considerably, and he 
 was obliged to give seventy-five dollars for a sow and 
 pigs. Very well the sow and pigs were now worth 
 , seventy-five dollars. About this time, the legislative 
 ' wisdom chartered another bank, in another neighbouring 
 town, having a church and a blacksmith's shop but no 
 whipping posts, they being abolished for the benefit of 
 honest people. This made money still more plenty than 
 before, and our honest farmer was again tempted to sell 
 his sow and pigs, for a hundred dollars. He was now 
 worth fifty dollars more than when he commenced 
 speculating, but then the mischief was, that he wanted 
 a sow and pigs. Very well. The multiplication of 
 
136 
 
 paper had its usual effect in depreciating its value, and 
 it so happened, that he was obliged to buy a sow and 
 pigs, for a hundred and fifty dollars. He calculated he 
 had now made a hundred dollars by his speculation, but 
 still he had nothing to show for it, but his sow and pigs. 
 To make an end of our story ; our honest farmer was 
 once more tempted to speculate, by an offer of two hun 
 dred dollars for his sow and pigs, and began to talk of 
 buying an addition to his farm, when unluckily the bank 
 failed, and the good man's speculation ended in having 
 exchanged his saw and pigs for nothing. But he had 
 enjoyed the delight of imaginary wealth all this time, 
 which every body knows is far better than the reality, 
 as it brings all the pleasures without any of the cares of 
 riches. How often do we see men, rolling in actual 
 wealth, suffering more than the pangs of poverty, by 
 the anticipation of it ; but who ever saw one who ima 
 gined himself rich haunted by a similar bugbear. 
 
 Banking capital is in truth a capital thing. All other 
 capital is real ; this is imaginary, and every body knows 
 the pleasures of imagination far transcend those of 
 reality. It is better than the music of Amphion or 
 Orpheus, for the former only whistled up the walls of a 
 city, and the latter set the trees and bears dancing ; 
 while your banking capital can build houses and furnish 
 them too ; and not only put the bulls and bears on tip 
 toe, but make an ass as wise as Solomon. In short, 
 not to delay the traveller too long, from the beauties of 
 nature, had the old philosophers, known any thing of 
 paper money, they would no longer have disputed about, 
 the magnum bonum, which is neither a vile Brummagem 
 

 137 
 
 razor, nor a clear conscience, but an abundance of paper 
 currency. 
 
 NEWBURGH is the capital of Orange County, so call 
 ed, according to Alderman Janson, from the fine yellow 
 butter made there in great quantities. It is the colour 
 of an orange. It is a thriving village, and a great place 
 for holding conventions. The steam boats stop here 
 just long enough to give people a fair chance of break 
 ing their shins, in coming aboard, and getting ashore. 
 The two tides of people meeting, occasions a pleasant 
 bustle very amusing to the spectator, but not to the actor. 
 There is a bank here, the notes of which are yellow in 
 compliment to the butter. The houses are mostly 
 painted yellow for a similar reason, and the men wear 
 yellow breeches when they go to church on Sundays. 
 The complexions of the young women are a little tinged 
 with this peculiarity ; but they are very handsome not 
 withstanding, though they cant hold a candle to the 
 jolly Dutch girls at Fishkill on the opposite side. New- 
 burgh is not illustrious for any particular delicacy of the 
 table, which might give it distinction, and therefore we 
 advise the intelligent traveller not to trouble himself to 
 stop there. In order to eat his way through a country 
 with proper advantage, the enlightened tourist should 
 be apprized beforehand of these matters, else he will 
 travel to little purpose. 
 
 From Newburgh to Poughkeepsie, the river presents 
 nothing particularly striking ; but the shores are every 
 where varied with picturesque points of view. Neither 
 is there any thing remarkable in the eating way. The 
 traveller may therefore pass on to Poughkeepsie, Po- 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 Itepsie, or Ploughkeepsie, as the Honourable Frederick 
 Augustus De Roos is pleased to call it in his Travels oi' 
 Twenty-One Days. 
 
 POUGHKEEPSIE is the capital of Dutchess County, so 
 called in honour of the Dutchess of York, daughter of 
 the famous Chancellor Clarendon, and who, if Monseig- 
 neur the Count de Grammont tells the truth, had very 
 little honour to bestow upon the county in return. The 
 origin of the word Poughkeepsie, is buried in the re 
 mote ages of antiquity ; but it is supposed to be either 
 Creek or Greek. It is however neither mentioned by 
 Ptolemy or Strabo. This omission may be supposed 
 to indicate that it was not in being at that time. But 
 the fact is, the ancients were like their successors the 
 moderns, deplorably ignorant of this country, as well as 
 of the noble science of gastronomy, and expended as 
 much money upon a goose's liver, as would furnish a 
 dozen tables with all the delicacies of a Paris Restaura- 
 tory. They stuffed the goose with figs a fig for such 
 stuffing ! Yet must we not undervalue the skill of the 
 Romans, who were worthy to conquer the world, if if 
 were only for discovering the inimitable art of not only 
 roasting a goose alive, but eating it alive afterwards. 
 The fattening of worms with meal was a. so an inimita 
 ble excellence of these people. But it is the noble and 
 princely price of their meals which most excites our 
 envy and applause ; and in this respect it is that the 
 immortal Apicius, who spent 2,000,000 of dollars in 
 suppers, deserved to give his name to all modern gour 
 mands. Neither the death of Curtius, nor Cato of Utica, 
 nor any other Roman worthy, can touch the heel of the 
 shoe of that of the thrice renowned Apicius, who starved 
 
139 
 
 himself to death, for fear of being starved, he having 
 but about four hundred thousand dollars to spend in fat 
 tening worms, enlarging livers, and roasting geese alive, 
 It was a glorious sera, when a supper cost half a million 
 of dollars ; and it was worth while for a man to visit 
 Rome from the uttermost ends of the earth, only to see 
 these people eat. Truly, we say again, they deserved 
 the empire of the world. 
 
 The highest price we ever paid for a supper in 
 Poughkeepsie, was we are ashamed to mention it- 
 was seventy-five cents. But then we had no live geese, 
 stuffed worms, or diseased livers. Alas ! we shall 
 never conquer the world if we go on in this way ! 
 
 Somewhere between Poughkeepsie and Hudson in 
 clusive, is said to be a great hot bed of politics, and 
 some of the greatest politicians of the state infest this 
 quarter. In proof of this, it is always found that they 
 are on the right, that is to say the strongest side. We 
 are told, but do not vouch for the fact, that they consult 
 the weather cock on the court house steeple, and change 
 their coats accordingly. If the wind blows from the 
 northeast, they put on their domestic woollens ; if from 
 the south, or west, these being warm winds, they change 
 their domestic woollens, for light regent's cloth ; and if- 
 the wind veers about as it sometimes does, without- 
 settling in any quarter, they throw by their coat entirely, 
 until it blows steadily. Those who have but one coal 
 to their backs, are obliged to turn it to suit the wind and 
 weather. But this is the case with but few, as they are 
 all too good politicians to be reduced to such extremity. 
 This may be true or not, we speak but by hearsay, and 
 
140 
 
 people ought not to believe every thing. Certain it is 
 however, that every saddler in the town, publicly adver 
 tises himself as " saddler and trimmer," whether in 
 allusion to his politics or not, we cannot say. If the 
 first be the case, it shows a most profligate state of pub 
 lic sentiment. What would the unchangeable, inflexible 
 patriots of New York and Albany, who dont turn their 
 coats above once or twice a year, say to such open 
 profession of versatility. 
 
 Nevertheless, Poughkeepsie abounds in the most 
 beautiful of all the works of nature, always excepting 
 canvass back ducks, or geese roasted alive, to wit, 
 scores of beautiful damsels ; that is, if nature may dis 
 pute with a French milliner the honour of producing a 
 fashionable woman, or a woman fashionably accoutred. 
 We ourselves sojourned here, ere while, that is to say, 
 some five and thirty years ago, and have not yet got rid 
 of the scars of certain deep wounds, received from the 
 sharp glances of beauty's eyes. A walk on the romantic 
 bluffs which overhang the river, of a summer evening, 
 when the boats are gliding noiselessly by at our feet; 
 the beautiful landscape, softening in the touching obscu 
 rity of twilight ; and the distant peaks of the Kaatskill, 
 melting into nothing, with one of these fair damsels 
 hanging on our arm, is a thing to be remembered for 
 many a year, a mighty pretty morsel to put into " time's 
 wallet," only its apt to to give a man the heart ache for 
 at least ten years afterwards. Many an invincible 
 dandy from the west side of Broadway, who never felt 
 the pangs of love, except for his own dear self, has 
 suffered more than his tailor, from one of these evening 
 
141 
 
 walks, and lived to lament in broadcloth and spatter 
 dashes, the loss of such sweet communion, such inno 
 cent, yet dangerous delights. As the prize poet says : 
 
 " Past times are half remember'd dreams 
 The future, ev'n at best, but seems ; 
 The present is and then is not ; 
 Such is man and such his lot. 
 Behind, he cannot see for tears ; 
 Before, is nought but hopes and fears ; 
 One cheats him with an empty bubble, 
 The other always pays him double. 
 'Tis a vile farce, of scenes ideal, 
 Where nought but misery is real." 
 
 From Poughkeepsie to Hudson, the eastern bank of 
 the river exhibits a uniform character of picturesque 
 beauty. Villages and landing places at the mouths of 
 large brooks, are scattered at distances of a few miles, 
 and all is cultivated and pastoral repose. The western 
 shore is more bold in its features, bounded at intervals 
 by the blue peaks of the Kaatskill in the distance. 
 Here lies Kingston, already risen from its ruins, and ex 
 hibiting few traces of that wanton and foolish barbarity 
 which stimulated the British commander to set fire to it, 
 during the revolutionary war. Here too, lies ATHENS, 
 about which our learned Thebans have had such hot dis 
 putes ; some maintaining that Boston, others that Phi 
 ladelphia, and others that New York was the real Athens 
 of America. In vain have they wasted their ink, their 
 time, and their reader's patience on the theme. Here 
 lies the true Athens of America, unknown and unno 
 ticed by the learned, who are always looking for Baby- 
 
142 
 
 Ion at Ninevah, and Ninevah at Babylon ; and wasting 
 mountains of erudition in searching for something right 
 under their nose, like the great bookworm Magliabechi, 
 who spent three days in looking for a pen, which he car 
 ried in his mouth all the time. 
 
 What is it constitutes the identity of a man ? His 
 name. And what, we would ask, constitutes the iden- 
 ty of a city ? The same. Would New York be New 
 York, or Albany, Albany by any other name ; and 
 would any thing be necessary to change New York into 
 Albany, and Albany into New York, except to ex 
 change their names ? What nonsense is it then for 
 people to be denying that Athens is Athens, and not 
 Boston, Philadelphia, or New York, which had better 
 be content with their own true baptismal names, than to 
 be usurping those of other cities. We trust we have 
 settled this question forever, and that hereafter, these 
 great overgrown, upstart cities will leave our little 
 Athens in the undisturbed possession of its name and 
 honours. If any city of the United States could dis 
 pute this matter without blushing, it would assuredly be 
 New York, which has a " Pantheon," for vending oy 
 sters ; an " Acropolis," for ready made linen ; an 
 " Athenian Company," for manufacturing coarse wool 
 lens ; and a duck pond, called the Piraeus. Nor are 
 Boston' and Philadelphia without very specious claims ; 
 the former having an Athenaeum, and a market house, 
 with a front in imitation of the Temple of Minerva, be 
 cause Minerva is the goddess of wisdom, and all mar 
 ket women are thrifty, or in common acceptation, wise ; 
 and the latter has its two magnificent fanes of Plutus. 
 
 
143 
 
 god of paper money, he being the only Pagan divinity 
 to whom the Christians erect temples. 
 
 KAATSKILL. 
 
 Those who are fond of climbing mountains in a hot 
 day, and looking down till their heads turn, must land 
 at the village of Kaatskill, whence they can procure a 
 conveyance to the hotel at Pine Orchard, three thou 
 sand feet above the level of the river, and have the 
 pleasure of sleeping under blankets in the dog days. 
 Here the picturesque tourist may enjoy a prospect of 
 unbounded extent and magnificence, and receive a les 
 son of the insignificance of all created things. Stand- 
 ingnear the verge of the cliff, he looks down, and no object 
 strikes his view, except at a distance of fifteen hundred 
 feet below. The space between is nothing but va 
 cancy. Crawling far below, man is but an atom, hardly 
 visible ; the ox is but a mouse ; and the sheep are little 
 white specks in the green fields, which themselves are 
 no bigger than the glasses of a pair of green specta 
 cles. The traveller may judge of the insignificance 
 even of the most sublime objects, when told that a 
 fashionable lady's hat and feathers dwindles in the dis 
 tance to the size of a moderate mushroom ! It is, we 
 trust, needless to caution the tourist against falling 
 down this dizzy steep, as in all probability he would 
 come to some harm. 
 
 There are two cascades not far from the Pine Or 
 chard, which want nothing but a little more water to be 
 wonderfully sublime. Generally there is no water at 
 
 
144 
 
 all, but the proper application of half a dollar, will set 
 it running presently. 
 
 " Music* has charms to soothe the savage breast, 
 To raise flood gates, and make the waters flow." 
 
 Messrs. Wall and Cole, two fine artists, admirable ill 
 their different, we might almost say, opposite styles, 
 have illustrated the scenery of the Kaatskill, by more 
 than one picture of singular excellence. We should 
 like to see such pictures gracing the drawing rooms of 
 the wealthy, instead of the imported trumpery of British 
 naval fights, or coloured engravings, and above all, in 
 the place of that vulgar, tasteless, and inelegant accu 
 mulation of gilded finery, which costs more than a do 
 zen fine landscapes. These lovers of cut glass lamps, 
 rose wood sofas, and convex mirrors, have yet to learn 
 that a single bust or picture of a master adorns and en 
 riches the parlour of a gentleman, in the eyes of a well 
 bred person, a thousand times more than the spoils of 
 half a dozen fashionable warehouses. 
 
 But after all there is nothing in this world like a good 
 appetite and plenty of good things to satisfy or satiate 
 it ; for merely to satisfy the appetite is to treat it as one 
 would that of a horse. In this respect, and this only 
 in our estimation, are the tops of high mountains enti* 
 tied to consideration. It is amazing what a glorious 
 propensity to eating is generated by the keen air of 
 these respectable protuberances. People have beeji 
 
 * Music figurative for the jingling of silver the only modern 
 music that works such miracles. 
 
145 
 
 known to eat up every thing in the house at a meal, and re 
 port says that a fat waiter once disappeared in a very mys 
 terious manner. The stomach expands with the sub 
 limity and expansion of the prospect, to a capacity 
 equally sublime, and the worthy landlord at the Pine 
 Orchard (between ourselves) has assured us that he has 
 known a sickly young lady who was travelling for an appe 
 tite, discuss venison for breakfast like an alderman. Cer 
 tain half starved critics, will without doubt, sharpen their 
 wits as sharp as their appetites, and putting grey goose 
 lance in rest, tilt at us terribly, for thus exalting the 
 accomplishment of eating above all others, and inciting 
 people to inordinate feats of the trencher. But we will 
 shut their mouths at once and forever, by asking the 
 simple question, whether the sine qua non of rich and 
 idle peoples' comfort and happiness is not exercise, 
 without which they cannot enjoy either their wealth 
 or their leisure. Having answered this question we 
 Will ask them another, to wit, whether there be any 
 exercise, not to say hard work, equal to that which 
 the inward and outward man undergoes in the final 
 disposal of a sumptuous dinner or supper ? How he 
 puffs, and blows, and sighs, and snoozes, and heaven 
 forgive us ! belches ! and twists and turns, neither en 
 joying stillness nor motion, until he has quieted this 
 mighty mass of ingredients. In short it is the hardest 
 Oxercise in the world, and of course must be highly 
 beneficial to health. This is what constitutes the unri 
 valled excellence of eating, and its superiority over all 
 other carnal delights ; since we have the pleasures of 
 taste in the first, and in the second, the benefit of harfl 
 13 
 
146 
 
 exercise to prepare us for a new meal. Hence it was, 
 that a famous eating philosopher, hearing a peasant grum 
 bling that he could not like him, live without work, re 
 plied in the following extempore 
 
 " I labour to digest one dinner, more 
 
 Than you, you blockhead, do, to earn a score." 
 
 " The town of Kaatskill, and the neighbouring coun 
 try," observes Alderman Janson in his manuscript ana, 
 " is the seat of many old Dutch families, whose an 
 cestors settled there in the olden time. Honest, in 
 dustrious and sober what a noble trio of virtues ! they 
 pursue the even tenor of their way, and would continue 
 to do so for generations to come, were it not for the late 
 attempts to corrupt them with canals and great state 
 roads ; and above all by locating a fashionable hotel in 
 the very centre of their strong hold, the Kaatskill Moun 
 tain. Since the introduction of these pestilent novel 
 ties, there has been noticed divers rebellious movements 
 against the good old customs. It is not long since, that 
 several old ladies whose descent ought to have forever 
 saved them from the temptation of such enormities, 
 have introduced the fashion of drinking tea by candle 
 light ; and a young fellow a genuine descendant of 
 Rip Van Winckle being out shooting, met a Dutch 
 damsel in a fashionable bonnet, whereat he was so 
 frightened that he fired his gun at random, and ran home 
 to tell his mother that he had seen a strange wild beast 
 that looked for all the world " like he did'nt know what." 
 It is a sore thing to see the good old customs of anti 
 quity thus as it were gradually beateji from their last 
 
147 
 
 entrenchments in the mountains. All this comes of 
 steam boats, manufactories, and other horrible enormi 
 ties of this improving age. The deplorable consequen 
 ces, are pathetically exemplified in the fate of pool- 
 Squire Yan Gaasbeeck, as I heard it related by one of 
 his neighbours." 
 
 " Squire Van Gaasbeeck, (which means goosebill in 
 English,) was for fifty good years, snugly settled on his 
 farm, at New Paltz happy in himself, happy in his 
 family, and happy in the possession of three hundred 
 acres of the best land in the county. His family con 
 sisted of a wife, a son and two daughters, the latter of 
 a ripe marriageable age Catharine and Rachel, called 
 in the familiar Dutch vernacular, Teenie and Lockie. 
 The name of the boy as they called him, for he was 
 "but thirty was Yaup, which signifies Jacob in English. 
 
 " The daughters spun and wove the linsey woolsey 
 and linen ; the mother with their help made them up 
 into garments for the squire and Yaup, who worked 
 in the fields sometimes a whole day, with Primus the 
 black boy, without exchanging a single word. Every 
 year Squire Yan Gaasbeeck added a few hundreds to 
 his store ; every year the governor sent him a commis 
 sion as Justice of the Peace ; and every year, the 
 daughters added to their reserve of linen and petticoats, 
 deposited in the great oaken chest, with a spring 
 lock, for the happy period to which every good honest 
 girl looks forward, with gentle trepidation, mixed with 
 inspiring hopes. There seemed to be no end to these 
 accumulations, insomuch that it is said, at one time, 
 Teenie and Lockie, could each muster six dozen pah 
 
148 
 
 of sheets, three score towels, a hundred petticoats, be 
 sides other articles which shall be nameless that Yaup 
 counted shirts innumerable and the squire himself ac 
 tually mustered seventy-six pair of breeches, good, bad 
 and indifferent, a number which he declared he never 
 would exceed, he being an old seventy-sixer to the back 
 bone. 
 
 " Thus the old squire's barque floated swimmingly 
 towards the dark gulf that finally swallows up man, his 
 motives, his actions, and his memory, when in an evil 
 hour, a manufactory of woollen, was established in his 
 neighbourhood, for the encouragement of 'domestic 
 industry,' and where carding and spinning and weaving 
 were all carried on by that arch fiend ' productive labour.* 
 Hereupon all the women in twenty miles round, threw 
 down the distaff, the wool cards, and the shuttle, main 
 taining that it was much better to leave these matters to 
 * domestic industry,' and ' productive labour,' than to 
 be working and slaving from morning till night at home. 
 
 " 'Hum,' quoth Squire Van Gaasbeeck, 'this same 
 domestic industry, and productive labour, is what I cant 
 understand ; it bids fair to put an end to the domestic 
 industry and productive labour of my family I think.' 
 
 " A great political economist gave him copies of all 
 the speeches made in Congress on the subject, amount 
 ing to a hundred thousand pages, which he assured him 
 would explain the manner in which domestic industry and 
 domestic idleness, could be proved to be twin sisters. 
 The squire put on his spectacles and began to read 
 like any d -1 incarnate ; but before he got half through* 
 he fell asleep and dreamed of the tower of Babel and 
 
149 
 
 Confusion of tongues. He returned the books, and the 
 economist as good as told him he was a great blockhead, 
 f It may be,' quoth the squire, ' but not all the speeches 
 in the world will persuade me that the way to encourage 
 domestic industry is to have all the work done abroad.' 
 
 " Some say money is the root of all evil. Of this 
 I profess myself ignorant, having never yet had enough 
 to do me much harm. Others, affirm that idleness is 
 the genuine root, and I believe they are right. From 
 the moment the squire's wife and daughters began to be 
 idle at home, they began to hanker after a hundred out 
 door amusements which they never thought of before* 
 They must go down to Kaatskill forsooth to buy ribbons 
 and calicoes, and cotton stockings, and what not. In 
 short they never wanted an excuse for gadding, and at 
 last reached the climax of enormity in actually begin 
 ning to talk seriously of a voyage to New York. The 
 squire's hair stood on end, for at that happy period, a 
 voyage to New York was never contemplated except 
 on occasions of life and death. The city was talked of 
 "as of a place afar off, accessible only to a chosen few$ 
 and the fortunate being who had visited it, acquired an 
 importance equal to that of a Musselman who has made 
 the pilgrimage to Mecca. He might lawfully assume- 
 the traveller's privilege of telling as many lies as he 
 pleased. 
 
 " ' This comes of domestic industry and productive 
 labour,' quoth the squire, who was still the better horse 
 at home, and put a flat negative on the project, for 
 which he got a good many sour looks. But his misfor 
 tunes were not to end here. About this time, one of 
 13* 
 
150 
 
 those diabolical inventions which set all the world gad 
 ding, appeared in the shape of a steam boat, smoking 
 and puffing her way up to Albany. In a little while she 
 was followed by others, so that at length it came to pass, 
 that people could go from Kaatskill to New York, and 
 back again in less than no time, for nothing. Some 
 threescore and ten of the squire's cousins to the sixth 
 degree, taking advantage of these facilities, came up 
 from New York to see him, and some half a dozen, 
 staid all summer. Now the least they could do, was to 
 ask the squire's wife and daughters to visit them in the 
 autumn in return. The squire was assailed so resolute 
 ly for his permission to accept this polite offer, that at 
 last his obstinacy gave way, like a mill dam, in a great 
 freshet and carried every thing before it. Madam Van 
 Gaasbeeck, and Teenie and Lockie packed up all their 
 petticoats, and getting on board of the steam boat, at 
 the risk of their necks, under the protection of the 
 young Squire Yaup, paddled down to New York as 
 merry as fiddlers. 
 
 " At the same time the squire, in imitation of Mare 
 Antony, or somebody else that he never heard of, I be 
 lieve, almost loaded one of the Kaatskill sloops, with, 
 pigs, potatoes, and other market stuffs, the whole pro 
 duct of which was to be turned over to the ladies for 
 pin money. To the young squire he entrusted a more 
 important business. He had just closed a bargain with 
 a merchant in New York, who had once lived next door 
 to him in New Paltz, for a fine farm, on which he in 
 tended to settle Yaup when he got married, and now 
 entrusted him with threc^ thousand dollars t to pay for if. 
 
151 
 
 agreeably to contract. Squire Van Gaasbeeck was not 
 a man to owe a shilling longer than he could help it. 
 
 " The party arrived in New York without any acci 
 dent, the steam boat not blowing up that trip, and were 
 received by the cousins and second cousins as if they 
 were quite welcome. But terrible was the work the 
 city cousins made with the costume of Madam Van 
 Gaasbeeck and the young ladies. It was all condemn 
 ed, like a parcel of slops eaten up by cockroaches, and 
 the produce of the pigs, potatoes, and pumpkins melted 
 irretrievably in one single excursion into Cheapside. For 
 the town cousins would by no means be seen in Broadway 
 with the country cousins, and accordingly took them up to 
 Cheapside, in the dusk of the evening, where the shop 
 keeper, taking advantage of the obscurity, cheated them 
 finely. Being equipt in grand costume, they were ta 
 ken to the play it was Peter Wilkins where the old 
 lady declared, that " it was all one as a puppet show," 
 and came very near fainting under the infliction of a 
 pair of corsetts, with which the city cousins had invest 
 ed her. The young squire, feeling the importance of 
 Uaving money in his pocket, had delayed to pay over 
 the three thousand dollars, and carried it with him to 
 the play, in a leather pocket book. Impressed with 
 the weight of his charge, he was continually put- 
 ling his hand behind him to feel that all was safe, inso- 
 loouch that he caught the attention of a worthy gentle 
 man, who was prowling about, seeking whom he might 
 devour. He attached himself to Master Yaup for the 
 rest of the evening, and in the crowd of the lobby 
 out, took occasion to eiasc him of the black leir- 
 
152 
 
 Uier pocket book, without his being the wiser for it, till 
 he got home* It was never recovered, notwithstanding 
 all the exertions of that terror of evil doers, High Con 
 stable Hays. This is one of the great conveniences of 
 paper money a man may put a fortune in his pocket. 
 Had the three thousand dollars been in specie, Yaup 
 could not have carried them to the play. 
 
 " Here was a farm gone at one blow. But this was 
 not the worst. The good wife and daughters came 
 home with loads of finery, and loads of wants they 
 never knew before. There was the deuce to pay at 
 the church in New Paltz, the first time they appeaiv 
 ed. The church would hardly hold their bonnets, 
 and the parson was struck dumb, insomuch that he 
 gave out the wrong psalm, which the clerk set to a 
 wrong tune. Mercy upon us what heart burnings were 
 here ! Not one of the congregation could tell where 
 the text was when they got home. 
 
 " Squire Van Gaasbeeck had now a farm to pay for, 
 and wanted every penny he could scrape together to 
 make both ends meet. But the shopping to Kaatskill 
 went on worse than ever, and besides this, almost every 
 Week the sloop brought up some article of finery from 
 New York, which the city cousins assured them had 
 just come into fashion. In short, the squire now, for 
 the first time, felt his spirit bowed down to the earth 
 under the consciousness that he owed money which he 
 could not pay. 
 
 " In the progress of the spirit of the age, and the 
 march of mind, it came to pass that certain public spi 
 rited people, procured a charter, and set up a bank at 
 
153 
 
 Kaatskill, for the good of mankind. The squire in 
 good time was set upon by one of the directors,. who 
 smelt out that he wanted money, and persuaded him to 
 take up a couple of thousands of the bank, with the aid 
 of which he could make such improvements on his new 
 purchase, as would enable him to sell it for twice as 
 much as it cost. The squire was not the man he once 
 was. His sturdy independent spirit, that scorned the 
 idea of a debt, was broken down. He borrowed the 
 money, improved the farm, and finally sold it to this 
 very honest director, at a great profit. The director 
 paid him in notes of the new bank, and the very next 
 day conveyed the farm to somebody else. Squire Van 
 Gaasbeeck was now rich again. He determined to go 
 the next day and pay all his debts, and be a man once 
 more. 
 
 " But unluckily, that same night the bank, and all 
 things therein, evaporated. The house was found shut 
 up next morning, and all the books, papers, notes, and 
 directors gone no one knew whither, although it was 
 
 the general opinion, the d 1 had possession of the 
 
 directors. This blow half ruined Squire Van Gaas 
 beeck, and Yaup gave the finishing blow by striking 
 work, and swearing he would no longer battle with the 
 " spirit of the age, and the march of public improve 
 ment," which decreed he should be a gentleman. Fi 
 nally to make an end of my story, the squire was turn 
 ed out of his farm by his creditors his wife died of hei 
 corsetts the young ladies were fain to tend the spin 
 ning jenny at the neighbouring manufactory Master 
 
154 
 
 Yawp became a gentleman commoner, left the home of 
 his ancestors, and was never heard of more. 
 
 " An old acquaintance one day came to see the squire, 
 now living on' the charity of his brother in law, and in 
 quired how he came to be in such a state. * Ah !' 
 replied he with a sigh, * I was half ruined by domestic 
 industry and productive labour ; but the spirit of the 
 age in conjunction with the march of public improve 
 ment finished me at last.' " 
 
 HUDSON. 
 
 ' " A very respectable town, or rather city," says* 
 Alderman Janson : "so called after the renowned 
 Hendrick Hudson of blessed memory. It is opposite 
 to Athens, and ought to have been noticed immediately 
 after it. But if the traveller wishes particularly to view 
 the city, he has only to mention his desire, and the 
 steam boat will turn back with him, for they are very 
 obliging. Hudson furnishes one of those examples of 
 rapid growth so common and so peculiar to our country. 
 It goes back no farther than 1786, and is said now to 
 contain nearly 2000 inhabitants. But towns, like children, 
 are very apt to grow more in the few first years, than 
 all their lives after. But Hudson has a bank, which is 
 a sort of wet nurse to these little towns, giving them too 
 often a precocious growth, which is followed by a per 
 manent debility. The town is beautifully situated, 
 and the environs of the most picturesque and romantic 
 description. There arc several pretty country seats 
 in the neighbourhood. Here ctids, according to the 
 
155 
 
 law of nature, the ship navigation of the river ; but 
 5y a law of the legislature, a company has been incor 
 porated with a capital of 1,000,000 of dollars how 
 easy it is to coin money in this way ! to make a canal 
 to New Baltimore ; for what purpose, only legislative 
 wisdom can explain. There was likewise an incorpo 
 rated company, to build a mud machine for deepening 
 the river. But the river is no deeper than it was, and 
 the canal to New Baltimore is not made, probably be 
 cause the million of dollars is not forthcoming. One 
 may pay too dear for a canal as well as a whistle. That 
 canals are far better than rivers, is not to be doubted ; 
 but as we get our rivers for nothing, and pay pretty 
 dearly for our canals, I would beg leave to represent in 
 behalf of the poor rivers, that they are entitled to some 
 Httle consideration, if it is only on the score of coming 
 as free gifts. Hudson is said to be very much infested 
 with politicians, a race of men, who though they have 
 never been classed among those who live by their own 
 wits, and the little wit of their neighbours, certainly 
 belong to the genus." 
 
 From hence to Albany the Hudson gradually de 
 creases in magnitude, changing its character of a 
 mighty river for that of a pleasant pastoral stream. The 
 high banks gradually subside into rich flats, portentous of 
 Dutchmen, who light on them as certainly as do the 
 snipes and plovers. " Wisely despising," observes 
 Alderman Janson, " the barren mountains which are 
 only made to look at, they passed on up the river from 
 Fort Amsterdam, till they arrived hereabouts, and here 
 they pitched their tents. Their descendants still retajn 
 
156 
 
 possession of the seats of their ancestors, though sorely 
 beset by the march of the human mind, and the progress 
 of public improvement on one hand, and on the other 
 by interlopers from the modern Scythia, the cradle of the 
 human race in the new world, Connecticut. These last, 
 by their pestilent scholarship, and mischievous contri 
 vances of patent ploughs, patent threshing machines, 
 patent corn shelters, and patent churns, for the en 
 couragement of domestic industry, have gone near to 
 overset all the statutes of St. Nicholas. The honest 
 burghers of Coeymans, Coxsackie and New Paltz, still 
 hold out manfully ; but alas ! the women the women 
 are prone to backslidings, and hankering after novelties. 
 A Dutch damsel cant, for her heart, resist a Connec 
 ticut schoolmaster with his rosy cheeks and store of 
 scholarship ; and even honest yflfrow herself chuckles a 
 little amatory Dutch at his approach ; simpering mightily 
 thereat and stroking down her apron. A goose betrayed 
 no I am wrong a goose once saved the capitol of 
 Rome ; and it is to be feared a woman will finally betray 
 the citadels of Coeymans, Coxsackie and New Paltz, 
 to the schoolmasters of Connecticut, who circumvent 
 them with outlandish scholarship. These speculations," 
 quoth the worthy alderman,* " remind me of the mishap 
 
 * We ought, long before this, to have apprised the reader, that Al 
 derman Nicholas Nicodemus Janson, was the flower of the magistracy 
 of Coxsackie, and died full of years and honour, on his patron St. 
 Nicholas' day, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred 
 and twenty-seven. He was our great uncle by the mother's side, and 
 many are the happy days we remember to have passed in his honest 
 old Dutch house, which, according to custom, has lately been turned 
 into a tavern. He was indisputably the greatest scholar of the age? 
 
137 
 
 of my unfortunate great uncle, Douw Van Wezel, who 
 sunk under the star of one of these wandering Homers. 
 " Douw, and little Alida Vander Spiegle, had been 
 playmates since their infancy I was going to say 
 schoolmates, but at that time there was no such thing 
 as a school, so far as I can learn in the neighbourhood, 
 to teach the young varlets to chalk naughty words on 
 walls and fences, which is all that learning is good for, 
 for aught I see. Douw was no scholar, so there was 
 
 in the opinion of his neighbours, who ought to know him best ; and 
 compared with divers great authors of the present times, of whom he 
 was wont to say, that he furnished one with all the botany, and an 
 other with all the geology they ever had in their lives. He left be 
 hind him twenty-six large volumes of manuscripts, which he devised 
 to the writer of this book, as he expressed it, " In special token of his 
 affectionate remembrance, considering them as by far the most valuable 
 of his possessions." The rest of the heirs never disputed the legacy; 
 and what is very remarkable, the executors paid it over to us with most 
 unaccountable promptitude, while some of the unfortunate legatees 
 remain unpaid to this day. These gentlemen will be astonished, if 
 not mortified to hear, that we have lately been offered more for these 
 invaluable manuscripts, than all the rest of the worthy alderman's 
 property is worth. But we disdain to sell what was bestowed upon 
 us freely ; and it is our intention when we are grown too old to travel, 
 to publish the whole twenty- six volumes under the title of " Reminis 
 cences," at our own expense, charging the public nothing for the 
 insides, and only two dollars a volume for the binding. To the 
 which we are vehemently incited by the example of a certain worthy 
 of Coxsackie, who being desirous the public should enjoy the full be 
 nefit of a famous nostrum of his for the cure of all things, did actually 
 give away the said nostrum for nothing, only charging four shillings 
 for the bottles. Whereby all the country was cured, without any 
 expense, and the worthy philanthropist got rich with a clear con 
 science. 
 
 14 
 
158 
 
 uo danger of his getting into the state prison for forgery * 
 but it requires but little learning to fall in love. Alicia 
 had however staid a whole winter in York, where she 
 learned to talk crooked English, and cock her pretty 
 little pug nose at our good old customs. They were the 
 only offspring of their respective parents, whose farms 
 lay side by side, squinting plainly at matrimony between 
 the young people. Douw and Alida, went to church to 
 gether every Sunday ; wandered into the church yard, 
 where Alida read the epitaphs for him ; and it was the 
 talk of every body that it would certainly be a match. 
 Douw was a handsome fellow for a Dutchman, though 
 he lacked that effeminate ruddiness which seduces poor 
 ignorant women. He had a stout frame, a bluish com 
 plexion, strait black hair, eyes of the colour of indigo, 
 and as honest a pair of old fashioned mahogany bannis 
 ter legs, as you would wish to see under a man. It 
 was worth while to make good legs then, when every 
 -man wore breeches, and some of the women too, if 
 report is to be credited. Alida was the prettiest little 
 Dutch damsel that ever had her stocking filled with 
 cakes on new year's eve, by the blessed St. Nicholas. 
 I will not describe her, lest my readers should all fall in 
 love with her, or at all events weep themselves into 
 Saratoga fountains, when they come to hear of the dis 
 astrous fate of poor Douw, whose destiny it was but 
 let us have no anticipations ; sufficient for the day is the 
 evil thereof. 
 
 " It was new year's eve, and Douw was invited to 
 see out the old year at Judge Yander Spiegle's, in the 
 honest old Dutch way, under the special patronage of 
 
159 
 
 St. Nicholas, to whom whoever fails in due honour and 
 allegiance, this be his fate : never to sip the dew from 
 the lips of the lass he loveth best on new year's eve, or 
 new year's morn ;- never to taste of hot spiced Santa 
 Cruz ; and never to know the delights of mince pies and 
 sausages, swimming in the sauce of honest mirth, and 
 homefelt jollity. St. Nicholas ! thrice jolly St. Nicho 
 las ! Bacchus of Christian Dutchmen, king of good 
 fellows, patron of holiday fare, inspirer of simple frolic 
 and unsophisticated happiness, saint of all saints thai 
 deck the glorious calender! thou that first awakenest the 
 hopes of the prattling infant ; dawnest anticipated hap 
 piness on the school boy ; and brightenest the wintry 
 hours of manhood, if I forget thee whatever betide, or 
 whatever fantastic, heartless follies may usurp the 
 place of thy simple celebration, may I lose with the 
 recollection of past pleasures, the anticipation of plea 
 sures to come, yawn at a tea party, petrify at a soiree, 
 and perish, finally overwhelmed, in a deluge of whip 
 syllabub and floating island ! Thrice, and three times 
 thrice, jolly St. Nicholas! on this, the first day of the 
 new year 1826, with an honest reverence and a full 
 bumper of cherry bounce, I salute thee ! lo St. Nicho 
 las ! Esto perpetua ! 
 
 " There were glorious doings at the judge's among the 
 young folks, and the old ones too, for that matter, till 
 one or two or perhaps three in the morning, when the 
 visiters got into their sleighs and skirred away home 
 leaving Douw and the fair Alida, alone, or as good as 
 alone, for the judge and the yffrow, were as sound as a 
 church, in the two chimney corners. If wine, and 
 
160 
 
 French liqueurs, and such trumpery make a man gallant 
 and adventurous, what will not hot spiced Santa Cruz 
 achieve ? Douw was certainly a little flustered per 
 haps it might be predicated of him that he was as it were 
 a little tipsey. Certain it is he waxed brave as a Dutch 
 lion. I'll not swear but that he put his arm round her 
 waist, and kissed the little Dutch girl but I will swear 
 positively that before the parties knew whether they 
 were standing on their heads or feet, they had exchanged 
 vows, and became irrevocably engaged. Whereupon 
 Douw waked the old judge, and asked his consent on 
 the spot. ' Yaw, yaw' yawned the judge, and fell fast 
 asleep again in a twinkling. Nothing but the last trum 
 pet would rouse the yffrow till morning. 
 
 " In the morning, the good yffrow was let into the 
 affair, and began to bestir herself accordingly. I 
 cannot count the sheets, and table cloths, and tow 
 els, the good woman mustered out, nor describe the 
 preparations made for the expected wedding. There 
 was a cake baked, as big as Kaatskill Mountain, and 
 mince pies enough to cover it. There were cakes of a 
 hundred nameless names, and sweet meats enough to 
 kill a whole village. . All was preparation, anticipation, 
 and prognostication. A Dutch tailor had constructed 
 Douw a suit of snuff colour, that made him look like a 
 great roll of leaf tobacco ; and a York milliner had ex 
 ercised her skill in the composition of a wedding dress 
 for AJida, that made the hair of the girls of Coeymans, 
 and Coxsackie stand on end. All was ready and the 
 day appointed. But alas ! I wonder no one has yet had 
 the sagacity to observe, and proclaim to the world, that 
 
161 
 
 all things in this life are uncertain, and that the anticipa 
 tions of youth are often disappointed. 
 
 " Just three weeks before the wedding, there appear 
 ed in the village of Coxsackie a young fellow, dressed 
 in a three cornered cocked hat, a queue at least a yard 
 long hanging from under it, tied up in an eel skin, a 
 spruce blue coat, not much the worse for wear, a red 
 waistcoat, corderoy breeches, handsome cotton stock 
 ings with a pair of good legs in them, and pumps with 
 silver buckles. His arrival was like the shock of an 
 earthquake, he being the first stranger that had appeared 
 within the memory of man. He was of a goodly height, 
 well shaped, and had a pair of rosy cheeks, which no 
 Dutch damsel ever could resist, for to say the truth, our 
 Dutch lads are apt to be a little dusky in the Epidermis. 
 
 " He gave out that he was come to set up a school, 
 and teach the little chubby Dutch boys and girls English. 
 The men set their faces against this monstrous innova- 
 vation ; but the women ! the women ! they always will 
 run after novelty, and they ran after the schoolmaster, 
 his red cheeks and his red waistcoat. Yffrow Vander 
 Spiegle, contested the empire of the world within doors 
 with his honour the judge, and bore a divided reign. 
 She was smitten with a desire to become a blue stocking 
 herself or at least that her daughter should. The yffrow 
 was the bell weather of fashion in the village ; of course 
 many other yffrows followed her example, and in a little 
 time the lucky schoolmaster was surrounded by half the 
 grown up damsels of Coxsackie. 
 
 " Alida soon became distinguished as his favourite 
 scholar ; she was the prettiest, the richest girl in the 
 14* 
 
162 
 
 school and she could talk English, which the others 
 were only just learning. He taught her to read poetry 
 he taught her to talk with her eyes to write love 
 letters and at last to love. Douw was a lost man the 
 moment the schoolmaster came into the village. He 
 first got the blind side of the daughter, and then of the 
 yffrow but he found it rather a hard matter to get the 
 blind side of the judge, who had heard from his brother 
 in Albany, what pranks these Connecticut boys were 
 playing there. He discouraged the schoolmaster ; and 
 he encouraged Douw to press his suit, which Alicia had 
 put off, and put off, from time to time. She was sick 
 and not ready and indifferent and sometimes as 
 cross as a little d 1. Douw smoked his pipe hard 
 er than ever at her but she resisted like a heroine. 
 
 " In those times of cheap simplicity, it was the cus 
 tom of the country for the schoolmaster to board alter 
 nately with the parents of his scholars, a week or a 
 fortnight at a time, and it is recorded of these learned 
 Thebans, that they always staid longest where there was a 
 pretty daughter, and plenty of pies -and sweetmeats. The 
 time at last came round, when it was the schoolmaster's 
 turn to sojourn with Judge Vander Spieglc the allotted 
 fortnight, sorely to the gloomy forebodements of Douw, 
 who began to have a strong suspicion of the cause 
 of Alida's coldness. The schoolmaster knew which 
 side his bread was buttered, and laid close siege to the 
 yffrow, by praising her good things, exalting her con 
 sequence, and depressing that of her neighbours. Nor 
 did he neglect the daughter, whom he plied with poetry, 
 melting looks, significant squeezes, and all that al- 
 
163 
 
 though all that was quite unnecessary, for she was rea 
 dy to run away with him at any time. But this did not 
 suit our Homer ; he might be divorced from the acres, 
 if he married without the consent of the judge. He 
 however continued to administer fuel to the flame, and 
 never missed abusing poor Douw to his face, without 
 the latter being the wiser for it, he not understanding a 
 word of English. 
 
 " By degrees he opened the matter to the yffrow, 
 who liked it exceedingly, for she was, as we said be 
 fore, inclined to the mysteries of blue stockingism, and 
 was half in love with his red waistcoat and red cheeks. 
 Finally, she told him, in a significant way, that as there 
 was two to one in his favour, and the old judge would, 
 she knew, never consent to the marriage while he could 
 help it, the best thing he could do was to go and get 
 married as soon as possible, and she would bear them 
 out. Tnat very night Douw became a disconsolate 
 widower, although, poor fellow, he did not know of it 
 till the next morning. The judge stormed and swore, 
 and the yffrow talked, till at length he allowed them to 
 come and live in the house, but with the proviso that 
 they were never to speak to him, nor he to them. A 
 little grandson in process of time, healed all these in 
 ternal divisions. They christened him Adrian Vander 
 Spiegle, after his grandfather, and when it came to pass 
 that the old patriarch died, the estate passed from the 
 Vander Spiegles to the Longfellows, after the manner 
 of men. 
 
 " Poor Douw grew melancholy, and pondered some 
 times whether he should not bring his action for breach 
 
164 
 
 of promise, fly the country forever, turn Methodist, or 
 marry under the nose of the faithless Alida, * on pur 
 pose to spite her. 7 He finally decided on the latter, 
 married a little Dutch brunette from Kinderhook, and 
 prospered mightily in posterity, as did also his neigh 
 bour, Philo Longfellow. But it was observed, that the 
 little Van Wezels and the little Longfellows never met 
 without fighting ; and that as they grew up, this hostility 
 gathered additional bitterness. In process of time, the 
 village became divided into two factions, which gradu 
 ally spread wherever the Yankees and the Dutch mixed 
 together ; and finally, like the feuds of the Guelphs 
 and Ghibelines, divided the land for almost a hundred 
 miles round." 
 
 ALBANY. 
 
 Leaving Coxsackie, the traveller gradually ap 
 proaches those rich little islands and fiats, beloved by 
 the honest Dutchmen of all parts of the world, and 
 elsewhere, in the midst of which are seen the long com 
 fortable brick mansions of the Cuylers, the Schuylers. 
 the Van Rensselaers, and others of the patroons of an 
 cient times. " I never see one of these," quoth 
 Alderman Janson, " without picturing to myself the 
 plentiful breakfasts, solid dinners, and manifold evening 
 repasts, which have been and still are discussed in 
 these comfortable old halls, guiltless of folding doors 
 and marble mantel pieces, and all that modern trumpe 
 ry which starves the kitchen to decorate the parlour, 
 and robs the stranger of his hospitable welcome to be- 
 
165 
 
 stow upon superfluous trumpery. I never think of 
 the picture so delightfully drawn by Mrs Grant, in the 
 c Memoirs of an American Lady,' of the noble patri* 
 archal state of ' Uncle Schuyler' and his amiable wife, 
 without contrasting it with the empty, vapid, mean, and 
 selfish pageantry of the present time, which satiates 
 itself with the paltry vanity of display, and stoops to all 
 the dirty drudgery of brokerage and speculation, to ga 
 ther wealth, only to excite the gaping wonder, or secret 
 envy of vulgar rivals. By St. Nicholas, the patron of 
 good fellows, but the march of the human intellect is 
 sometimes like a crab, backwards !" 
 
 " The city of Albany," continues the worthy alder 
 man, " was founded, not by Mars, Neptune, Minerva, 
 or Vulcan, nor any of the wandering vagabond gods of 
 ancient times. Neither does it owe its origin to a run 
 away hero like JEneas, nor a runaway debtor, like a 
 place that shall be nameless. Its first settlers were a 
 race of portly burghers from old Holland, who sailing 
 up the river in search of a resting place, and observing 
 how the rich flats invited them as it were to their fat and 
 fruitful bowers, landed thereabouts, lighted their pipes, 
 and began to build their tabernacles without saying one 
 word. Tradition also imports, that they were some 
 what incited to this, by seeing divers large and stately 
 sturgeons jumping up out of the river as they are wont 
 to do, most incontinently in these parts. These stur 
 geons are, when properly disguised by cookery, so that 
 you cannot tell what they are, most savoury and excel 
 lent food, although there is no truth in the story hatched 
 by the pestilent descendants of Philo Longfellow, that 
 
166 
 
 the flesh of the sturgeon is called Albany beef, and thai 
 it is sometimes served up at Rockwell's, Cruttenden's, 
 and other favourite resorts of tourists, as veal cutlets. 
 Out upon such slanders ! By St. Nicholas, the Long- 
 fellows lie most immoderately. The worthy burghers 
 of Albany never deceived a Christian in their lives. As 
 their old proverb says : 
 
 * 'Twould make an honest Dutchman laugh, 
 To say a sturgeon is a calf.' 
 
 " The indians according to the learned Knickerbock 
 er, perceiving that the new comers, were like them 
 selves great smokers, took a vast liking to them, and 
 sat down and smoked with them, without saying a word, 
 and presently a cloud of smoke overspread the land, 
 like the haze of the indian summer. An old chief at 
 length looked at Mynheer Van Wezel, the leader of the 
 party, and gave a significant grunt. Mynheer Van We 
 zel looked at the old indian and gave another grunt equal 
 ly significant. Thus they came to a mutual good under 
 standing, and a treaty was concluded without exchanging 
 a single word, or any other ceremony than a good so 
 ciable smoking party. Some of the descendants of 
 Philo Longfellow, insinuate that Mynheer Van Wezel 
 took an opportunity of presenting his pistol, well charged 
 with Schiedam, to the old chief and his followers, and that it 
 operated marvellously in bringing about the treaty. But 
 there is not a word of truth in the story. This good 
 understanding was produced by the magic virtues of si 
 lence and tobacco. This example shows how easy it 
 is to be good friends, if people will only hold their 
 
167 
 
 tongues ; and it moreover forever rescues the excellent 
 practice of smoking from the dull jests of effeminate 
 puppies, who affect to call it vulgar. If modern 
 negotiators would only sit down and smoke a sociable 
 pipe together every day for five or six months, my life 
 upon it there would be less ink shed, and blood shed too 
 in this world. By St. Nicholas ! the saint of smokers, 
 there is nothing comparable to the pipe, for soothing 
 anger, softening down irritation, solacing disappoint 
 ment, and disposing the mind to balmy contemplation, 
 poetical flights ? and lofty soarings of the fancy ; inso 
 much that any young bard, who will tie his shirt with a 
 black ribbon and take to smoking and drinking gin and 
 water like my Lord Byron, will in a short time write 
 equal to his lordship, allowing for accidents." 
 
 " Thus," continues the alderman, " was the city of 
 Albany founded, and originally called Jill-bonny, as the 
 Dutch people still pronounce it, from the bonny river, 
 the bonny woods, bonny pastures, and bonny land 
 scapes by which it was environed. But blessed St. 
 Nicholas ! how is it sophisticated, since, by the poste 
 rity of Philo Longfellow, by politicians, tourists, lobby 
 members, widening streets, building basins, and dig 
 ging canals ! The old Dutch church, where the follow 
 ers of Mynheer Van Wezel, first offered up their sim 
 ple orisons, is pulled down, and in its room a non-descript 
 with two tin steeples erected, wherein they preach nothing 
 but English. The young men who descend from the 
 founders, are Dutchmen no more, and the damsels are 
 nought. Not one in a hundred can read a Dutch Bible ! 
 In a little while the children of that roving Ishmaelite* 
 
 
 
168 
 
 Philo Longfellow, will sweep them from their inheri 
 tance, and the land shall know them no more. The 
 very houses have changed their position, and it is writ 
 ten, that an old mansion of Dutch brick which whilom 
 projected its end in front, on Pearl Street, did one night 
 incontinently turn its broadside to the street, as if resol 
 ved like its master to be in the fashion, and follow the 
 march of public improvement." As the prize poet sings 
 corroborating the sentiments of the worthy alder 
 man 
 
 " All things do change in this queer world ; 
 
 Which world is topsy-turvy hurl'd ! 
 
 Tadpoles to skipping bull frogs turn, 
 
 And whales in lighted candles burn ; 
 
 The worm of yesterday, to day 
 
 A butterfly is, rich and gay ; 
 
 The city belles all turn religious, 
 
 And say their prayers in hats prodigious : 
 
 St. Tammany becomes Clintonian, 
 
 And Adams-men downright Jacksonian. 
 
 Thus all our tastes are wild and fleeting, 
 
 And most of all our taste in eating ; 
 
 I knew a man or rather savage, 
 
 Who went from ducks* to beef and cabbage !" 
 
 As Albany is a sort of depot, where the commodities 
 of the fashionable world are warehoused as it were a 
 night or two, for exportation to Saratoga, Niagara, 
 Montreal, Quebec, and Boston, we shall here present 
 to our readers a short system of rules and regulations, 
 for detecting good inns, and generally for travelling with 
 
 '* Querf . Canvass backs? if so, there is no hope for him. 
 
169 
 
 dignity and refinement* And first, as to smelling out 
 a, comfortable inn. 
 
 Never go where the stage drivers or steam boat men 
 advise you. 
 
 Never go to a newly painted house. Trap for the 
 green horns. A butcher's cart, with a good fat butcher, 
 handing out turkeys, venison, ducks, marbled beef, 
 celery, and cauliflowers, is the best sign for a public 
 house. 
 
 Never go to a hotel, that has a fine gilt framed pic 
 ture of itself hung up in the steam boat. Good wine 
 needs no bush a good hotel speaks for itself, and will 
 be found out without a picture. 
 
 Always yield implicit obedience to a puff in the news 
 papers in praise of any hotel. It is a proof that the 
 landlord has been over civil to one guest at the expense 
 of all the others. No man is ever particularly pleased 
 any where, or with any body, unless he has received 
 more attention than he deserves. Perhaps you may be 
 equally favoured, particularly if you hint that you mean 
 to publish your travels. Even publicans sigh for im 
 mortality. 
 
 Never seem anxious to get lodgings at any particu 
 lar place. The landlord will put you in the garret if 
 you do, unless you come in your own carriage. 
 
 If you have no servant of your own, always hire one 
 of the smartest dressed fellows of the steam boat to ear 
 ly your baggage, and pass him off if possible till you are 
 snugly housed at the hotel, as your own. Your accom 
 modations will be the better for it ; and when the rm's- 
 15 
 
 */* 
 
170 
 
 take is discovered, they cant turn yoii out of your room 
 you know. 
 
 Grumble at your accommodations every morning, it 
 will make you appear of consequence, and if there are 
 - better in the house, in time you will get them. 
 
 Take the first opportunity to insinuate to the waiters, 
 one at a time, that if they remember you, you will re 
 member them when you go away. You will have every 
 soul of them at your command. N. B. You need not 
 keep your promise. 
 
 Respecting the best public houses in Albany, there 
 are conflicting opinions. Some think Rockwell's, 
 some Cruttenden's the best. We dont know much of 
 Rockwell, but Cruttenden, thrice jolly Cruttenden, we 
 pronounce worthy to be landlord to the whole universe. 
 Fate intended him to keep open house, and if she had 
 only furnished him with money enough, he would have 
 done it at his own expense, instead of that of other 
 people. He is the Falstaff of hosts, for he not only 
 drinks himself, but causes others to drink, by virtue of 
 his excellent wines, excellent jokes, and excellent ex 
 ample. However, as we profess the most rigorous im 
 partiality, we give no opinion whatever on the relative 
 merits of the two houses, having for which we hope to 
 be" forgiven more than once got royally fuddled at 
 both. If, however, the traveller is particular, as he 
 ought to be in these matters, he has only to inquire 
 where a certain worthy member from New York puts 
 up during the session. He will be morally certain of 
 finding good fare and good lodgings there. 
 
 
171 
 
 Lastly, never go away from a place without paying 
 your bill, unless you have nothing to pay it with. Ne- 
 cessitas non habet, &c. A man must travel now a 
 days, or he is absolutely nobody ; and if he has no 
 money, it must be at the expense of other people. In 
 case you set out on a. foray of this kind, it is advisable 
 to have two trunks, one a small one for your own 
 E clothes, and those of other people, the other a strong, 
 well braced, well rivetted, large sized one, filled with 
 brickbats. Be sure to talk " big" about having married 
 a rich wife as ugly as sin, for the sake of her money ; 
 about your great relations ; and if your modesty wont 
 permit you to pass for a lord, dont abate a hair's breadth 
 of being second cousin to one. When the landlord be 
 comes troublesome, or inattentive, and begins to throw 
 out hints about the colour of a man's money, hire a gig, 
 .take your little trunk, give out you are going to visit 
 some well known gentleman in the neighbourhood, for 
 a day or two, and teave the great trunk behind for the 
 benefit of mine host. It is not expected you will send 
 back the gig. 
 
 " Albany," we again quote from the ana of Alder 
 man Janson, the prince of city magistrates " Albany 
 is the capital of the state of New York, having been the 
 seat of government for almost half a century. Formerly 
 the legislature met in New York ; but in process of 
 time it was found that the members, being seduced into 
 huge feeding, by the attractions of oysters, turtle, and 
 calves head soup, Hid incontinently fall asleep at their 
 afternoon session, and enact divers mischievous laws, 
 
172 
 
 to the great detriment of the community. Thereupon 
 they resolved to remove to Albany ; but alas ! luxury 
 and dissipation followed in their train, so that in process 
 of time they fell asleep oftener than ever, and passed 
 other laws, which nothing but their being fast asleep 
 could excuse. In my opinion, it would tend greatly to 
 the happiness of the community, and go far to prevent 
 this practice of legislating with the eyes shut, if- these** 
 bodies were to meet in council like the indians, under 
 the trees in the open air, and be obliged to legislate 
 standing. This would prevent one man from talking 
 all the rest to sleep, unless they slept like geese stand 
 ing on one leg, and thereby arrest the passage of many 
 mischievous laws for mending rivers, mending manners, 
 mending charters, mending codes, making roads, ma 
 king beasts of burden of the people and fools of them 
 selves. Truly saith the wise man, * Too much of a 
 good thing is good for nothing ;' and too much legisla 
 tion is a species of sly, insidious oppression, the more 
 mischievous as coming in the disguise of powers exer 
 cised by the servants, instead of the masters of the 
 people. Commend me to King Log, rather than King 
 Stork. Every legislative body in my opinion, should 
 have a majority of good honest, sleepy, patriotic mem 
 bers, whose pleasure it is to do nothing a good portion 
 of the time during the session. Your active men are 
 highly mischievous in a government ; they must always 
 be doing something ; meddling with every one's con 
 cerns, and so busy in keeping the wheels of government, 
 going, that they dont care how many people they run 
 over. They are millstones in motion, and when they 
 
 p 
 
173 
 
 have no grist to grind, will set one another on fire. In 
 my opinion the most useful member that ever sat in con 
 gress, was one who never in his life made any motion 
 except for an adjournment, which he repeated every day 
 just before dinner time. Truly the energy and activity 
 of a blockhead is awful."' 
 
 " Once upon a time," (so says the fable, according 
 to Alderman Janson,) " the empire of the geese was 
 under the government of an old king Gander, who 
 though he exercised an absolute sway, was so idle, 
 pampered, and phlegmatic, that he slept three fourths of 
 his time, during which the subject geese did pretty much 
 as they pleased. But for all this he was a prodigious 
 tyrant, who consumed more corn than half of his sub 
 jects, and morever obliged them to duck their heads 
 to him whenever they passed. But the chief complaint 
 against him was, that though he could do just as he 
 pleased, it was his pleasure to sit still and do nothing. 
 u Whereupon it came to pass one day, his subjects 
 held a town meeting, or it might be a convention, and 
 j dethroned him, placing the government in the hands of 
 | the wise geese. Feeling themselves called upon to 
 j justify the choice of the nation, by bettering its condition. 
 ! the wise geese set to work, and passed so many excellent 
 i laws, that in a little time the wisest goose of the com- 
 i munity could hardly tell whether it was lawful to say boo 
 to a goose, or hiss at a puppy dog, or kick up a dust in 
 a mill pond of a warm summer morning. When the time 
 of these wise geese expired, other geese still wiser were 
 chosen to govern in their stead, for such was the prodi 
 gious march of mind among them, that there was not a 
 15* 
 
 if* 
 
174 
 
 goose in the whole empire, but believed himself ten 
 times wiser than his father before him. Each succeed 
 ing council of wise geese of course thought it incumbent 
 upon it, to give a push to the march of mind, until at 
 length the mind marched so fast that it was in great 
 danger of falling on its nose, and continually ran against 
 posts, or fell into ditches. 
 
 " Thus each generation of wise geese went on ma 
 king excellent laws to assist the march of mind and the 
 progress of public improvement, until in process of 
 time, there were no- more good laws to pass, and it be 
 came necessary to pass bad ones to keep their hands in, 
 and themselves in their places. ' Gentlemen,' said a 
 little, busy, bustling, active, managing, talkative young 
 goose, who was resolved nobody should insinuate that 
 he could not say boo to a goose * gentlemen, it does 
 not signify, we must do something for the march of 
 mind and the progress of public improvement, or the 
 citizen geese will call us all to nought, and choose other 
 wise geese in our stead. They are already the happiest 
 geese in the world ; we must make them a little too 
 happy, or they will never be satisfied.' Hereupon each 
 of the wise geese burned to do something to assist the 
 inarch of the mind and the progress of public improve 
 ment. One proposed a law to forbid geese to stand 
 upon one leg at night, and muzzle their bills in their 
 own feathers, this being a dangerous practice inasmuch 
 as it exposed them to be surprised the more easily by 
 foxes. Another offered a resolution to oblige all the geese 
 to lay their eggs the other end foremost, and hatch them 
 in half the usual period, whereby much time would be 
 
 
175 * 
 
 Saved, and there would be a mighty increase of popula 
 tion. This last motion was made by an old bachelor 
 goose, who had made the subject of population his chief 
 study. A third, proposed a law forbidding the young 
 goslings to paddle in the water till they were old enough 
 to get out of the way of the great bull frogs and snap 
 ping turtles. A fourth, moved to pick one half the geese 
 of one half their feathers, and give them to the other 
 half of the geese, for the encouragement of domestic 
 industry, and the national independence. After these 
 laws had been debated about six months, they were 
 passed without opposition, it being discovered to the 
 great surprise of the house, that there was no difference 
 of opinion on the subject. 
 
 " Had these edicts been propounded by old king Gan 
 der, there would have been the d 1 to pay among the 
 
 geese, and such a hissing as was never heard before. 
 But there is a vast difference between being governed by 
 a master and a slave. We see the proudest monarchs, 
 and the most self-willed tyrants, submitting to the will 
 of a valet, or a gentleman usher, or any other abject 
 slave, when they would resist the will of their subjects 
 on all occasions. So with the people, and so it was 
 with the republic of the geese ; they allowed themselves 
 to be cajoled on all occasions, and laughed at the idea 
 of the possibility of having their chains rivetted by their 
 own servants. So the married geese set to work to lay 
 their eggs according to law. But nature is an obsti 
 nate devil, and there is no legislating her into reason. 
 The eggs and the goslings came into the world just as 
 they did before. The little goslings, contrary to law, 
 
176 
 
 would be dabbling in the water, and getting now and 
 then caught by the snapping turtles, and there was no 
 such thing as punishing the little rogues after they were 
 dead. In short, of all these laws, there was but one 
 which actually went into operation, namely, that for 
 picking one half of the geese for the benefit of the 
 other half. 
 
 " But it was never yet known that either men or 
 geese, were content with half a loaf when they could 
 get the whole. The half of the republic of the geese, 
 for whose benefit the other half had been picked, in pro 
 cess of time waxed fat, and strong, and wealthy, while 
 the other half that had been fleeced of a good half of 
 their feathers for the encouragement of domestic indus 
 try waxed proportionably poor and meagre, and their 
 breast bones projected awfully, like unto cut-waters. 
 The fat geese, now began to grumble that there was a 
 great want of patriotism in the rules of the geesian 
 republic in not properly encouraging domestic industry, 
 since nothing was clearer, than that if half a loaf was 
 good, the whole loaf was better. So they petitioned 
 and the petition of the strong is a demand they petition 
 ed that the geese who had lost half their feathers for the 
 public good, should be called upon to yield the other half 
 like honest patriotic fellows. The law was passed accor 
 dingly. But public discontent is like a great bell, it 
 takes a long time in raising, but makes a mighty noise 
 when once up. The geese which had been picked for 
 the good of the republic, had chewed the cud of their 
 poverty in silence, but they spit venom in private among; 
 themselves ; and this new law to pluck them quite na- 
 
177 
 
 Jted, brought affairs to a crisis. In matters of legisla 
 tion, wealth and influence are every thing. But where 
 it comes to club laiv, or a resort to the right of the 
 strongest, poverty always carries the day. The poor 
 plucked geese accordingly took back by force what they 
 had been deprived of by legislation, with interest ; and 
 finding after a little while that it was necessary to have a 
 head of some kind or other, unanimously recalled old king 
 Gander to come and sleep over them again. He reign 
 ed long and happily poised himself so nicely, by doing 
 nothing, and keeping perfectly still, that he sat upright 
 while the wheel of fortune turned round under him, and 
 the occasional rocking of his kingdom only made him 
 sleep the sounder." 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 " Leave the people to manage their private affairs in 
 their own way as much as possible, without the interfe 
 rence of their rulers. The worst species of tyranny is 
 that of laws, making sudden and perpetual changes in 
 the value of property and the wages of labour, thus 
 placing every man's prosperity at the mercy of others." 
 
 According to Alderman Janson, * * Albany has the merit 
 or the reputation of having first called into activity, if not 
 into existence, a race of men the most useful of any per 
 haps invented since the days of Prometheus, who make it 
 their sole business to enlighten the legislature, most es~ 
 pecially on subjects of finance, banking, &c. They 
 are called by way of honourable distinction LOBBY MEM- 
 BEES, because they form a sort of third estate, or legis- 
 
178 
 
 lative chamber in the lobby. They are wonderful adepts; 
 at log rolling, and of such extraordinary powers of per 
 suasion, that one of them has been known to lay a 
 wager that he would persuade a member of the inner 
 house to reconsider his vote, in a private conference of 
 half an hour. Such is the wonderful disinterestedness 
 of these patriots that they never call upon the people to 
 pay them three dollars a day, as the other members do, 
 but not only bear their own expenses, but give great en 
 tertainments, and sometimes, it is affirmed, help a brother 
 membe of the inne:r house along with a loan, a sub 
 scription, and even a free giftout of pure good na 
 ture and charity. 
 
 "Their ingenuity is exercised for the benefit of 
 the good people of the state, in devising all sorts of 
 projects, for making roads, digging canals, and sawing 
 wood ; all which they will execute for nothing, provided 
 the legislature will let them make their own money out 
 of rags, and what is still better, * Loan them the credit 
 of the state,' for half a million or so. It is astonishing 
 what benefits these lobby members have conferred on 
 this great state, filling it with companies, for furnishing 
 the people with every convenience, from bad money, that 
 wont pass, to coal that wont burn whereby people in 
 stead of wasting their resources in necessaries, may spend 
 them in superfluities. Moreover they have conferred 
 great honour upon the state abroad, it being a common 
 saying, that whoever wants Viis * log rolled,' or his pro 
 ject for the benefit of the community adopted by a le 
 gislature, must send to Albany for a gang of lobby 
 
179 
 
 members. I thought I could do no less than say what 
 I have said, in behalf of these calumniated people, 
 whom I intend to employ next winter, in getting an in 
 corporation to clear Broadway of free gentlemen of 
 colour, ladies' fashionable bonnets, and those * infernal 
 machines,' that whiz about, spirting water, and engen 
 dering mud from one end of the street to the other, 
 thereby making it unnavigable for sober decent peo 
 ple." 
 
 "In former times," continues the alderman, "Al 
 bany was a cheap place, where an honest man could 
 live on a small income, and bring up a large family re 
 putably, without running in debt, or getting a note dis 
 counted. But domestic industry, and the march of pub 
 lic improvement, have changed the face of things, and 
 altered the nature of man as well as woman. The fa 
 ther must live in style, whether he can afford it or not 
 the daughters must dress in the extremity of bad 
 fashions, learn to dance, to paint, and to torture the 
 piano and the sons disdain the ignominious idea of 
 being useful. The race of fine ladies and fine gentle 
 men fine feathers make fine birds has multiplied an 
 hundred fold, and we are credibly informed that the for 
 mer have entered into a solemn league and covenant, 
 not to marry any man who cannot afford to live in a three 
 story house, with folding doors and marble mantel 
 pieces. The ancient Dutch economy, and the simple 
 habits of Dutchmen, have given place to speculation 
 and folly ; and the possession of a moderate indepen 
 dence sacrificed to the idle anticipation of unbounded 
 wealth. The race of three cornered cocked hats is al- 
 
180 
 
 most extinct the reverend old fashioned garments sd 
 becoming to age, are replaced by dandy coats the 
 good housewives no longer toil or spin and yet I say 
 unto thee, gentle reader, that Solomon in all his glory 
 was not attired like one of these tavern keepers charge 
 double hack drivers treble milliners quadruple tai 
 lors have put off the modesty of their natures and the 
 old market women extortionate in cabbages and turnips- 
 Nay, I have it from the best authority, that an old bur 
 gher of the ancient regime, was not long since ousted, 
 by the force of conjugal eloquence, out of a patriarchal 
 coat, which he had worn with honour and reputation up 
 wards of forty years, and instigated by the d 1, to 
 
 put on a fashionable frock in its place." 
 
 We also learn from the manuscripts -of Alderman 
 Janson, of blessed memory, that " In the year 1783, 
 one Baltus Blydenburgh, on being called upon, the" 
 26th of August, by Teunis Van Valer, for money 
 which he owed him, declined paying it, on the ground 
 that it was not in his power. At first Teunis thought 
 he was joking, but on being solemnly assured to the 
 contrary, he threw up his hands and eyes to heaven, 
 and cried out in Dutch, " Well, den the world is cer 
 tainly coming to an end!" and departed into the streets, 
 where he told every body he met, that Baltus Blyden* 
 burgh could not pay his debts, and that the city was 
 going to be swallowed up like Sodom and Gomorrah. 
 The story spread, and the panic with it, inasmuch that 
 the good careful old wives packed up all their petticoats 
 and looking glasses, and were preparing to depart to 
 the other side of the river. Such a tbing as a ma not 
 
181 
 
 paying his debts, had never before been known in Ai 
 bany, and beyond doubt the city would have been en 
 tirely deserted, had it not been for the arrival of a grand 
 son of Philo Longfellow, from New York, who assured 
 them there was no danger of an earthquake, for to his 
 certain knowledge, if running in debt for more than 
 people were able to pay, would produce earthquakes, 
 there would not be a city in the United States left 
 standing. Whereupon," continues Alderman Janson, 
 " the citizens were mightily comforted, and went to 
 work getting in debt as fast as possible." He adds, 
 that up to the year 1783, there was not a schoolmaster in 
 Albany that could tell the meaning of the word " bank 
 rupt," and concludes with the following affecting apos 
 trophe : " Alas ! for honest old Albany ! All this comes 
 of * domestic industry,' * the march of public improve 
 ment,' and the innovations of the posterity of Philo 
 Longfellow !" 
 
 The grand canal ends at Albany, where there is a 
 capacious basin for canal boats. " The canal and 
 locks," quoth the worthy alderman, " cost upwards of 
 eight millions of dollars, the locks especially, having 
 been very expensive, whence the favourite song of the 
 people of New York state, is : 
 
 " 'I LOCK'D up all my treasure.' " 
 
 At Albany, wise travellers going to the springs, or to 
 Niagara, generally quit the water, and take to land car 
 riage ; since no man, who is either in a hurry, as all 
 people who have nothing to do are, or who thinks it of 
 16 
 
any importance to wear a head on his shoulders, would 
 venture on the canal. Festina lente is the maxim of 
 the canal boats ; they appear always in a hurry, and yet 
 go at a snail's pace. Four or five miles an hour would 
 do very well when people were not so busy about no 
 thing as they are now, but body o me ! fifteen miles an 
 hour is indispensable to the new regime. By this saving 
 of time, a traveller may be safely said to. live twice as 
 long as he could do before the march of mind and the 
 progress of public improvement. The following are 
 among the principal rules adopted by very experienced 
 travellers on leaving Albany by land. 
 
 Whenever you come to two turnpike roads, branching 
 off in different directions, you may be pretty certain they 
 both head to the same place, it being a maxim with the 
 friends of public improvement, that as two heads are 
 better than one, though one of them is a calves-head, 
 so are two roads, even though both are as bad as possi 
 ble. In this country there are always at least two near 
 est ways to a place of any consequence. 
 
 Never inquire your way of persons along the roadj 
 but steer by the map, and then if you go wrong, it will 
 be with a clear conscience. 
 
 Never ask the distance to any place " of one of the 
 posterity of Philo Longfellow," as Alderman Janson 
 calls them, for he will be sure to ask you " If you are 
 going there," before he answers your question ; nor of 
 the descendants of the Van Wezels, for ten to one, the 
 first will tell you it is ten miles, and when you have 
 gone half a dozen of them, the next will apprize you. 
 
after scratching his head in the manner of Scipio, thai 
 it is nigh about twenty. You will never get to the end 
 of your journey, if you believe these fellows. 
 
 Never stop at the tavern recommended by the tavern 
 keeper at whose house you stopt last. They make a 
 point of honour of not speaking ill of each other, a 
 practice which we would particularly recommend to the 
 liberal professions. 
 
 When you enter a tavern, begin by acting the great 
 man ask for a private room call the landlord, his 
 wife, and all his household as loud as you can set 
 them all going, if possible, and find fault not only with 
 every thing you see, but every thing they do. Ex 
 amine the beds, and be particular in looking under them, 
 to see if there is no robber concealed there. If there 
 is any distinguished person living in the neighbourhood? 
 inquire about him particularly, and regret you have not 
 time to stay a day or two with him. If you happen to 
 be travelling in a hack carriage, make the driver take 
 off his number and put up a coat of arms. Be sure to 
 Jet the driver know that you will send him about his bu 
 siness, if he whispers a word of the matter, and be so 
 particular in looking to the horses, and inquiring if they 
 have been taken care of, that every body will take it for 
 granted, they belong to you. As a good portion of the 
 pleasure of travelling consists in passing for a person of 
 consequence, these directions will be found of particu 
 lar value in bringing about this desirable result. 
 
 When people stop by the side of the road to stare at 
 your equipage, be sure to loll carelessly back, and take 
 not the least notice of them. They will think you a 
 
184 
 
 great man certainly; whereas if you look at them 
 complacently, they will only set you down as a gentle 
 man. 
 
 Be careful when you go away, not to express the 
 least satisfaction to landlord or landlady at your enter 
 tainment, but let them see that you consider yourself 
 ill treated. They will take it for granted you have been 
 used to better at home. 
 
 If you travel in a stage coach; look as dignified as 
 possible, and if any body asks you a civil question, 
 give them an uncivil look in return, as is the fashion 
 with the English quality cockneys, unless the person 
 looks as if he might tweak your nose, for assuming airs 
 of dignified importance. 
 
 Always, if possible, set out in a stage with a drunken 
 driver, because there is some reason to calculate he 
 will be sober in time. Whereas if ho sets out sober, 
 it is pretty certain he will be drunk all the rest of the 
 journey. 
 
 If you meet with a stranger who seems inclined to be 
 civil extempore, take it for granted he means to pick 
 your pocket or diddle you in some way or other. Ci 
 vility is too valuable an article to be given'away for no 
 thing. 
 
 If you travel in a handsome equipage*, no matter 
 whether your own or not, be careful not to enter a 
 town after dark, or leave it before the people are up, 
 else one half of them wont have an opportunity of see 
 ing you. 
 
 Always plump into the back seat of a stage coach with 
 out ceremony, whether there are females or not. If an % y 
 
185 
 
 wan happens to claim it, you can only get out again you 
 know, and look dignified. 
 
 Always be in a bad humour when you are travelling. 
 Nothing is so vulgar as perpetual cheerfulness. It 
 proves a person devoid of well bred sensibility. 
 
 Touching the payment of bills, our friend Stephen 
 Griffin, Esq. assures us, that on the continent of Eu 
 rope, none but an English cockney traveller, with more 
 money than wit, ever thinks of paying a bill without 
 deducting one half. Here however, in this honest 
 country, it would be unreasonable in the traveller to de 
 duct more than one third, that being the usual excess 
 along the roads, and at public places much frequented 
 by people having a vocation to travelling for pleasure. 
 If however you wish to pass for a great man, pay the 
 bill without looking at it. We were acquainted with a 
 great broker, who always pursued this plan, and the con 
 sequence was, that hostlers, waiters, chambermaids, 
 and landlords, one and all, looked upon him as the 
 greatest man in America, and nobody could be waited 
 upon, or accommodated at the inns, until he was pro 
 perly disposed of. There is however a meritorious 
 class of travellers, whose business is to get away from 
 hotels and public houses without paying at all; who 
 drink their bottle ofBingham,Marston, or Billy Ludlow, 
 every day, scot free. This requires considerable ori 
 ginal genius, much knowledge of the world, and great 
 power of face, with a capacity of changing names. 
 Your alias is a staunch friend to worthies of this class. 
 The best school for this species of knowledge is the 
 16* 
 
186 
 
 quarter sessions, or the police, where a regular attend 
 ance of about a twelvemonth, will hardly fail of initiating 
 the scholar into all the mysteries of the great art of run 
 ning in debt, an art than which there is not one more 
 vitally important to the rising generation. 
 
 Before we leave Albany, we would caution the travel 
 ler against anticipating any thing extraordinary in the 
 way of eating at this place. In vain may he sigh for 
 canvass backs, or terrapins. A turtle sometimes finds 
 its way there, and now and then a cargo of oysters ; 
 but in general there is little or nothing to detain the en 
 lightened, travelled gourmand. The fare will do well 
 enough for legfslators and lobby members, but for a 
 refined and cultivated palate, what can be expected from 
 a people who are said to follow the antiquated maxim 
 of the old song : 
 
 " I eat when I'm hungry, and drink when I'm dry," 
 
 a maxim in itself so utterly vulgar and detestable, that 
 it could only have originated in the fancy of some half 
 starved ballad monger, who considered the mere filling 
 of his stomach, as the perfection of human happiness^ 
 Any fool can eat when he is hungry, and drink when he 
 is dry, provided he can get any thing to eat or drink ; 
 this is the bliss of a quadruped, devoid of the reasoning 
 faculty. But to enjoy the delight of eating without 
 appetite, to be able to bring back the sated palate to a 
 relish of some new dainty, to reanimate the exhausted 
 energies of the faulting stomach, and waken it to new 
 exstacies of fruition ; to get dyspepsias, and provoke 
 apoplexies, is the privilege of man alone, whose reason 
 has been refined, expanded, and perfected by travel and 
 
187 
 
 experience. The happiest man, in our opinion, we ever 
 knew, was a favoured being who possessed the furor 
 of eating in greater perfection than all the rest of his 
 species. He would eat a whole turkey, a pair of can 
 vass backs, and a quarter of mutton, at a sitting, and 
 finish with a half bushel of peaches. He was indeed 
 an example to his species ; but he was too good for this 
 world, and was maliciously taken off by an unlucky 
 bone, at a turtle feast at Hoboken, where he .excelled 
 even himself, and died a blessed martyr. The only 
 consolation remaining to his friends, is that he was after 
 wards immortalized in the following lines of the famous 
 prize poet, who happened to be at the feast which proved 
 so disastrous. 
 
 " Here lies a man whom flesh could ne'er withstand, 
 
 But bone alas ! did gel the upper hand. 
 
 Death in the shape of turtle, venison, fowl, 
 
 Oft came and shook his scythe with ghastly scowl, 
 
 But hero like he d d him for a bore, 
 
 And cried undaunted ' waiter bring us more !' 
 At last death came in likeness of a bone, 
 And the pot-valiant champion was o'erthrown. 
 If death one single ounce of flesh had had, 
 'Twould have been all over with him there, egad ; 
 A broil of him, our hungry friend had made 
 And turtle-clubs been never more dismay'd, 
 By the gaunt imp of chaos and old night, 
 Who spoils full many a glorious appetite*" 
 
 " At Albany," as Alderman Janson observes, " ends 
 the proper sloop navigation of the Hudson. It is true 
 they do manage to get them up as far as Troy, and 
 Lansingburgh, and even Waterford. But nature never 
 
188 
 
 intended they should go farther than Albany. It was 1 
 in full confidence of this that the first colony pitched 
 upon Albany, as the site of a great city which was des 
 tined in a happy hour, to become the capital of the state. 
 Unfortunate adventurers ! they never dreamed of the 
 march of the human mind, and the progress of public 
 improvements ; or of companies incorporated for the 
 performance of miracles. They never surmised the 
 possibility of a great river like the Hudson, the master 
 piece of the Creator of the universe, being improved 
 by an act of the legislature ; nor did it ever enter into 
 their matter of fact brains that the posterity of Philo 
 Longfellow would found a city as it were right over their 
 heads at Troy, and thus interrupt the rafts coming 
 down the river to Albany. What a pity it is people 
 cannot see a little farther into millstones ! what glorious 
 speculations we should all make, except that every body 
 being equally enlightened as to the future, there would be 
 no speculation at all, which would be a terrible thing for 
 those useful people, who having no money themselves, 
 disinterestedly go about manufacturing excellent pro 
 jects, to drain the pockets of those who have. Money 
 is in truth like an eel, it is easy to catch it, but to hold 
 it fast afterwards, is rather a difficult matter. And here 
 I am reminded of the fate of an honest codger of my 
 acquaintance, who had become rich by a long course of 
 industry and economy, and at the age of forty-five set 
 himself down in a smart growing town, not a hundred 
 miles, from I forget where, to enjoy the life of a 
 gentleman. 
 
 *' Martin Forbush, that was his name, lived a whole 
 
189 
 
 year in his otium cum dignitate, at the end of which he 
 became rather dispeptic, and began to get out of hu 
 mour with the life of a gentleman. Of all the castles 
 ever built in the air, the castle of indolence is the worst. 
 Ease * is not to be bought with wampum, or paper mo 
 ney,' asHorace says ; a man must have some employment, 
 or pursuit or at least a hobby horse, or he can never 
 be easy in this world. To one who has been all his 
 life making money, the mere enjoyment of his wealth, 
 is not worth a fig. Even the summum bonum, the great 
 good, eating, has its limits, and nothing is wanting to 
 the happiness of a rich man, but that his appetite should 
 increase with his means of gratifying it. But alas ! it 
 would seem that every enjoyment of life, is saddled 
 with its penalty, and that the gratification of the senses, 
 carries with it the elements of its own punishment. 
 The very food we devour rises up in judgment against 
 us. The turtle is revenged by "apoplexy, dyspepsia, 
 epilepsy, and catalepsy. But the subject is too heart 
 rending. 
 
 " While honest Martin was thus dying by inches, of 
 a gentleman's life, and pining away both corporeally and 
 mentally, under the incubus of idleness, as good luck 
 would have it, a stirring, long headed, ingenious, specu 
 lative, poor d- 1, came to settle in the town, which 
 
 as nature had done little or nothing for it, was the finest 
 place that could be for public improvements of all kinds. 
 He was inexhaustible in plans for laying out capital to 
 the greatest advantage ; he never saw a river that he 
 could not make navigable, a field that he could nol 
 make produce four fold, or a fall of three feet perpendicu- 
 
190 
 
 lar that was not the finest place in the world for mills and 
 manufactories. All he wanted was money, and that he 
 contrived to make others supply, which was but reasona 
 ble. It would have been too much for him to furnish both 
 the money and wit. 
 
 " The first thing such a public spirited person does, 
 on locating himself among the people whom he has 
 come to devour, is to find me out all those snug 
 fellows, who have ready money in their purses, and dirt 
 to their boots. Men that have a few thousands lying by 
 them, or stock that they can turn at once into money, 
 or land that they can mortgage for a good round sum. 
 Having smelled out his game, our advocate for public 
 improvement, takes every opportunity of pointing out 
 capital speculations, and hinting that if he only had a 
 few thousands to spare, he could double ihem in the 
 course of two or three years. Martin pricked up his 
 his ears. He longed past all longing, to be turning a 
 penny to advantage. It would give a zest to his life i- 
 it would employ his time which he did not know what to 
 do with. In short, he listened and was overcome. He 
 determined to immortalize his name as a great public 
 benefactor, and double his money at the same time. 
 
 " There was a river about a hundred yards wide, 
 running close to the skirts of the town, which the apostle* 
 of public improvements assured Martin was the finest- 
 place for a bridge that was ever seen. It seemed to be 
 made on purpose. There was not the least doubt but it 
 would yield from thirty to fifty per cent on the first cost in 
 tolls. Nothing was wanting but legislative authority for 
 this great work. He would go to Albany next session* 
 
191 
 
 and get an act passed for that purpose, if he only had the 
 money; but just now he was a little short, one of his 
 principal debtors having disappointed him. 
 
 " Honest Martin, rather than miss such a capital 
 speculation, agreed to advance the needful, and at a 
 proper time the redoubtable Timothy Starveling, or 
 Starling, as he called himself, set out upon his mission, 
 to the paradise of lobby members. Timothy took 
 lodgings at the first hotel, kept open house, treated 
 most nobly with honest Martin Forbush's cash, and 
 wound himself into the confidence of two senators and 
 five members. But before the matter was decided the 
 money was run out, and therefore Timothy Starveling 
 wrote a most mysterious letter to Martin, hinting at ex 
 traordinary expenses; accommodating members with 
 loans small matters, that told in the end ; conciliating ' 
 influential people ; oiling the wheels, and heaven knows J " 
 what else. Martin understood not one word of all this, 
 but rather than lose his money and his project, he sent 
 him a fresh supply. The bridge, notwithstanding, stuck 
 not a little by the way, owing to the opposition of some 
 who had not been properly enlightened on the subject ; 
 but by dint of log-rolling, it floundered through at last. 
 Timothy got it tacked to a Lombard, and a steam saw 
 mill, and the business was accomplished. Timothy, 
 upon the strength of his charter, bought a carnage and 
 horses, and rode home in style. 
 
 " Well, they set to work, and the bridge was built 
 with Martin's money. But it brought him in no tolls, 
 owing to the circumstance of their being no road at the 
 end of it. Martin scratched his head ; but Timothv 
 
192 
 
 vvas nowise dismayed. All they had to do was to make 
 a turnpike road, from the end of the bridge to the next 
 town, which was actually laid out, though not actually 
 built, and there would be plenty of tolls. * Roads make- 
 travellers,' quoth Timothy, and Martin believed it. 
 Another act of the legislature became necessary, and 
 the same thing was done, as at Timothy's last mission. 
 The opposition was however much more difficult to 
 overcome than on the former occasion, owing to an ill 
 natured definition given by a country member, to wit : 
 * That a turnpike bill was a law to enable the few, to tax 
 the many, for a bad road kept in bad repair.' It cost 
 Martin a pretty penny to get permission for a road, and 
 it cost him a prettier penny still to make it. However, 
 made it was, at last. Timothy superintended, and 
 Martin paid. The tolls were not sufficient to pay an 
 old woman for opening the gates. Few people were 
 tempted by their occasions to pass that way, and those 
 who did, forded the river, it being shallow, and saved 
 their money. 
 
 " But those who think Master Timothy Starveling 
 was at his wit's end here, reckon without their host* 
 You might as well catch a cat asleep, as Timothy at a 
 nonplus. * We'll petition for an act to deepen the 
 river, and thus kill two birds with one stone. By im 
 proving the navigation, we shall bring vast quantities 
 of produce down, which will make the town the grand 
 emporium of this part of the country, and at the same 
 time so deepen the channel, that it will not be fordable.' 
 Martin thought the idea prodigious, and the same game 
 was played a third time by Timothy at Albany. They 
 
193 
 
 improved the navigation of the river at no small cost, b) 
 deepening the channel. But rivers are unmanageable 
 commodities. As fast as they deepened, it filled up 
 again,- and one heavy rain deposited more mud and 
 sand, than could be removed in a year. In short, be 
 fore the river became navigable, or the road and bridge 
 brought in their thirty to fifty per cent, the purse of 
 Martin Forbush ceased to jingle at the touch. It was 
 as empty as my pocket. 
 
 " One day when Master Timothy Starveling came to 
 Martin for a small trifle to complete the project, the 
 former worthy gentleman, crawled forth with his eye 
 brows elevated, his forehead wrinkled, and his shoulders 
 almost as high as his head, and pulling his breeches 
 pockets inside out, looked most ruefully significant at 
 the great advocate of public improvements. ' Pooh/ 
 said the latter, * there is a remedy for all things, even 
 for an empty pocket ; look here,' pulling out the charter 
 for the bridge, I've got an iron in the fire yet, I thank 
 you.' Whereupon he showed Martin a clause in the 
 act which with a very little stretching and twisting, might 
 be fairly interpreted into a privilege for banking. Mar 
 tin was now pretty desperate and caught at the idea. 
 They got together all the paupers of the town, who 
 subscribed their thousands and tens of thousands they 
 gave their notes or security for the payment of their sub 
 scriptions they chose Martin president, and Timothy 
 Cashier, and announcing to an astonished world, which 
 wondered where the money came from, that < the stock 
 was all paid in, or secured to be paid,' proceeded 
 ft* (he business of issuing notes, without considering 
 17 
 
 1 
 
194 
 
 how they were to be paid. For a while they went oft 
 prosperously. There will always be found a sufficient, 
 number of honest fools in every community, for rogues 
 to work upon, and the good people were rejoiced in their 
 hearts, to find money so plenty. But in an evil hour, 
 there appeared at the bank of Diddledum, a spruce 
 young fellow in boots and spurs, with a bundle of bank 
 notes, who announced himself as the cashier of the neigh 
 bouring bank, of Fiddledum, and demanded the pay 
 ment of his bundle in specie. There never was, nor 
 was there now, nor ever would have been, a dollar of 
 specie in the bank of Diddledum. This ungentlemanly 
 and malicious run, being what no one, not even Timothy 
 Starveling, Esquire, cashier, had ever dreamed of, the 
 Spruce young gentleman in boots and spurs, was civilly 
 requested to wait till they could have a meeting of the 
 directors. But the young gentleman forthwith went to 
 a notary and got all the notes protested ; after which 
 he placed them in the hands of a lawyer, who commen 
 ced a suit on each of them, in order to save expense, 
 The spruce young gentleman in boots and spurs, then 
 departed for the happy village, which had grown so fast 
 under the refreshing auspices of the bank of Fiddledum, 
 that every body said it would soon outgrow itself. There 
 were sixty new houses, three great hotels, and six dis 
 tilleries, all built by men who were not worth a groat. 
 What a blessed thing is paper money, and its legitimate 
 offspring, public improvements ! 
 
 " But blessed as it is, it proved the downfall of Tin> 
 othy Starveling, Esquire, cashier of the bank of Diddle* 
 dum. That night, the bank closed its doors, to open 
 
195 
 
 wo more, and the ingenious Timothy, as was supposed, 
 in attempting to cross the river on horseback, to avoid 
 the ' public sentiment,' was swept away by the stream, 
 swelled to a torrent by heavy rains, and never appeared 
 again. At least his hat was found several miles down 
 the river; but himself and his horse, could never be dis 
 covered, although the ' Morgan Committee' took up 
 the affair. 
 
 " Martin Forbush, was stripped of all his hard earn 
 ings. He surrendered his bridge, his road, and his 
 navigation improvements to his creditors and much good 
 did it do them. He went back to his old shop, to begin, 
 the world anew. In process of time he became once 
 more an independent man. But he never again turned 
 gentleman, and consequently never got the dyspepsia, 
 He never burnt his fingers afterwards with public im 
 provements, and nobody could ever persuade him to 
 make a speculation. He even forgave Timothy Starve 
 ling, and was wont to say, * Plague take him ! he rob 
 bed me of all my money, but then he cured me of the 
 blue devils.' " 
 
 We would advise the fashionable tourist, and to none 
 other is this work addressed, who of course is hurrying 
 directly to the springs, to go by the way of the Cohoes, 
 Waterford, and as far as possible keep the banks of the 
 Hudson. " Leaving Albany," says Alderman Janson, 
 " you come upon those rich flats, that present a soft ar 
 cadian scene, beautified with all the products of nature, 
 and industrious man. The meadows are peopled with 
 luxurious Dutch cattle, basking in the shade of spread- 
 
196 
 
 ing elms that dot the landscape here and there. The 
 fields of golden wheat just ripening in the sunny month 
 of July, the dark green leaves of the blessed corn, 
 flaunting like ribbons about the brow of youth bound 
 ed on one side by the swelling, rolling hills, on the other 
 by the glassy river, all present together a scene worthy 
 of the golden age, and of the simple virtuous patriarchs 
 who yet inhabit there, smoking their pipes, and talking 
 Dutch, in spite of the changes of fashion, the vagaries 
 of inflated vanity, which instill into the hearts of the 
 foolish, that alteration is improvement, and that one ge 
 neration of man is wiser than another. It is thus thai; 
 youth laughs at age, and that the forward urchin, who 
 knows nothing of the world but its vices and follies, 
 thinks himself wiser, than his grandfather of fourscore." 
 " One day the Caliph Almansor, one of the vainest 
 of the Arabian monarchs, was conversing familiarly 
 with the famous poet Fazelli, with whom he delighted to 
 talk, when retired from the cares of his empire. * Thou 
 thinkest,' said he to Fazelli, '. that I am not wiser than 
 my father. Why is it so ; doth not every succeeding 
 generation add to the wisdom of that which preceded 
 it V 'Dost thou think thyself wiser, than the pro 
 phet t' answered the poet, bowing his head reveren 
 tially. * Assuredly not,' answered the caliph. ' Dost 
 thou think thyself wiser than Solomon V asked the 
 poet, bowing still lower. ' Assuredly not,' again answer 
 ed the caliph. ' Dost thou think thyself wiser than 
 Moses who communed with Allah himself? a third 
 time asked the poet bowing to the ground. Almansoi? 
 was for a moment very thoughtful and held down his 
 
* 
 
 head. * Assuredly not,' replied he at length, i I were 
 foolishly presumptuous to think so.' 
 
 " * Then how,' resumed Fazelli, * canst thou prove 
 that each succeeding generation is wiser than another 
 that is past?' < The aggregate of knowledge is cer 
 tainly increased,' replied the caliph. * True O my king, 5 
 replied Fazelli, ' but knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom 
 points out the road to happiness and virtue ; knowledge, 
 is only an acquaintance with a mass of facts, which are 
 not necessarily connected, with cither wisdom, virtue or 
 happiness, the only objects worthy the pursuit of a wise 
 man. The knowledge of things has certainly increased, 
 but O king ! remember that wisdom is always the same ; 
 as much so as the great power by whom it is dispen 
 sed. Thou mayest perhaps know more of the moon, 
 the stars, the earth, and the seas, than thy father ; but of 
 thy organizational!/ soul, thy passions, appetites,the pow 
 er to direct them, and the Being who bestowed them upon 
 thee, thou knowest no more than the meanest of thy 
 father's slaves.' ' Thou sayest true,' replied the Caliph 
 bowing his head reverently Allah teach me humility.' 
 * Great king,' said Fazelli, 'lament not thine ignorance. 
 Every thing we cannot comprehend, furnishes proof of 
 the existence of a Being wiser than ourselves.' '" 
 
 Infandam regina we despise Latin scraps ever since 
 the publication of the dictionary of quotations. But 
 who has not heard of Troy not that famous city which 
 Jacob Bryant maintained never had an existence, al 
 though it has made more noise in the world, than the 
 greatest matter of fact cities extant not the city which 
 thousands of travellers have gone to see, and come 
 
 17* 
 - 
 
198 
 
 away, without seeing not the city which sustained a 
 ten years siege, and was at last taken by a wooden 
 horse ; no verily, but the indubitable city of Troy, on 
 the banks of the Hudson, which is worth three thousand 
 beggarly Scamanders, and six thousand Hellesponts* 
 We are aware that this excellent town, which contains 
 at this moment Helens enough to set the whole world 
 on fire, is pronounced by that great geographer and tra 
 veller, Lieutenant De Roos, to be in New England. Pe 
 rish the thought ! New England never had such a town 
 to its back ; so full of enterprizing people, continually 
 plotting against the repose of dame nature. Alexander 
 once seriously contemplated cutting M ount Athos into 
 a statue ; King Stephanus Bombastes, lost his wits with 
 the idea of making Bohemia a maritime power ; whence 
 it was, that Corporal Trim very properly called him, 
 4 This unfortunate king of Bohemia ;' and a great ad 
 vocate of public improvements, is now so unluckily mad 
 on the subject, that he fancies himself a great chip, 
 floating all weathers on the great northern canal. But 
 all these are nothing to the Trojans, who it is said seri 
 ously contemplate a canal, parallel with the Hudson, 
 from Troy to New York, if they can only get the legis 
 lature to pass an act against its freezing. Alas ! poor 
 river gods ! what will become of them, as sings the 
 famous prize poet, whom we hereby solemnly affirm, in 
 our opinion, deserves to. have his whiskers curled on th<5 
 very pinnacle of Parnassus : 
 
 " Noah be hang'd, and all his race accurst^ 
 Who in sea brine did pickle timber first ! 
 
199 
 
 Meaning to say, that your salt water rivers are no longer 
 to be tolerated, and ought to be forthwith legislated out 
 of their waters as soon as possible. It is a great thing 
 to. know what poets mean now a days. They are the 
 true "children of mist." But to continue our quotation : 
 
 " O Trojan Greeks ! who dwell at Ida's foot, 
 
 Pull up this crying evil by the root ; 
 
 Rouse in the mighty majesty of mind, 
 
 Pull up your mighty breeches tight behind, 
 
 Then stretch the red right arm from shore to shore, 
 
 And swear that rivers shall endure no more !." 
 
 "It is almost worth while," says Alderman Jansoo, 
 " to sacrifice a few hours of the delights of the springs, 
 to ascend Mount Ida, and see the romantic little cas 
 cade, a capital place for manufactories. In the opinion 
 of some people, this is all that water falls are good 
 for now a days. I would describe it, but for fear of 
 drawing the attention of some prowling villain, who 
 Would perhaps come and build a cotton mill, and set all 
 the pretty little rosy cheeked Helens of Troy tending 
 spinning jennies, from sunrise to sunset, and long after, 
 at a shilling a day, instead of leaving them to the enjoy 
 ment of the few hours of rest and careless hilarity which 
 God in his wisdom hath appropriated to the miserable 
 pack horses of this age of improvements. The domes*- 
 tic industry of females, is at home, by the fireside, in 
 the society of their families, surrounded and protected 
 by their household gods ; not in woollen and cotton 
 mills, herded together by hundreds, and toiling without 
 intermission at the everlasting spinning jenney, without 
 
200 
 
 leisure to cultivate the domestic virtues, or opportunity 
 for mental improvement. Of all the blockheads this 
 side of the moon, in my opinion the farmers of these 
 United States are the greatest, considering the pains 
 taken by the members of congress and others to en 
 lighten them. What in the name of all the thick sculled 
 wiseacres past, present and to come, do they want of a 
 1 woollen bill,' and what do the blockheads expect, from 
 getting a penny or two more perhaps a pound for their 
 wool, except to pay twice as much a yard for the cloth 
 which is made out of it "? Why dont they learn wisdom 
 from their own sheep ? 
 
 " A cunning old fox one day put his head through the 
 bars of a sheepfold, and addressed the flock as follows : 
 1 Gentlemen, I have a proposition to make greatly to 
 your advantage ; I'll give you a penny a pound more for 
 your wool (if you'll only let me shear you) one of these 
 days, provided you'll pay me in the meantime a dollar 
 more a yard for the cloth I make out of it.' Where 
 upon an old ram of some experience, cried 'Baah!' and 
 all the rest of the sheep followed his example." 
 
 In speaking of Troy, Alderman Janson, who was a 
 great hunter of manuscripts, states that he saw there a 
 curious poem, written by a schoolmaster of Troy about 
 forty years ago, in imitation of Homer's Batrachomy- 
 omachia. 
 
 As a specimen, the worthy alderman has copied the 
 invocation, which we insert, with a view of indicating 
 the corruption of the public press at that period. We 
 congratulate our readers at the same time on the im- 
 
 ' 
 
201 
 
 provement which the march of mind hath brought about 
 in this as well as every thing else. 
 
 " ' Thee we invoke, O sacred nine ! 
 No, not the sacred nine, but thou 
 
 The youngest sister of the nine, unknown in ancient song ! 
 Thou the TENTH MUSE ! begot as legends tell, 
 By printer's devil on a famous shrew 
 (Who had kill'd nine husbands with eternal clacking,) 
 Up in a garret high, between two newspapers. 
 One Jackson t'other Adams. 
 There thou didst learn thy alphabet, 
 Midst Billingsgate most dire ; 
 Loud blustering lies and whispered calumnies, 
 Were thy first lessons in the art of speech ; 
 Next impudence became thy dry nurse, 
 And did teach thy genius apt, to mouth with high pretence, 
 Of arts and literature, science profound, 
 And taste pre-eminent, stol'n from the man in the moon, 
 Or God knows where. There thou didst learn 
 To judge of what thou wert profoundly ignorant ; 
 To criticise a classic in false grammar, 
 And in bad English all the world defy ! 
 There too, as stories go, thou didst become 
 A connoisseur in Flemish and Italian schools, 
 Albeit thou never sawest a picture in Ihy life, 
 Save on a sign post at a tavern door ; 
 To scan with taste infallible and nice, 
 A bust or statue, by approved rules, 
 Gathered from frequent contemplation deep 
 Of barbers' blocks, and naked blackamoors, 
 Stuck up by wicked wights to lure our youth 
 To shave their beards, and chew tobacco dire. 
 There too, thou learn'dst to quaff oblivion's bowl, 
 Fill'd to the brim with foaming printers' ink ; 
 To forget to-morrow what the day before 
 Thou sworest was gospel j to say, unsay, 
 

 202 
 
 And praise a man one hour, whom in 
 Thou didst consign to ignominious shame, 
 In phrase most apt and delicate, though stolen 
 From an old fish wife, drunk and in a passion. 
 There too, amid the din of politics and lies, 
 Thou learn'dst. to be a judge infallible 
 Of public virtue and of private worth ; 
 To moot nice points of morals, and decide 
 On things obscure, that for long ages past 
 Have puzzled all mankind, and dried the brains 
 Of luckless sages ta the very bottom, 
 Bare as mud puddles in a six months' drought. 
 
 " Hail MUSE THE TENTH, worth all the other nine f 
 Presiding genius of our liberties, 
 We hail t hee on our knees, and humbly beg, 
 Thou'lt not forget who 'twas in modern days, 
 First call'd thee from oblivion, and install'd thee, 
 Goddess of men, whom gods and men do fear.'" 
 
 The alderman boasts that the poem is soon to be 
 published simultaneously in five different languages, in 
 five different countries, by five different booksellers, with 
 five puffs of five first rate journals in each language. 
 We think the friends of the author had better advise 
 him to leave out the invocation. 
 
 " There is a rock,'* continues the worthy alderman 
 in great wrath, " on Mount Ida, all covered with dia 
 monds, better than you can make of charcoal, where I 
 would recommend the ladies to stop, and supply them 
 selves for the springs, instead of flaunting about in chy- 
 mical jewels, as is the fashion now. And here I must 
 beg leave to digress a little to offer my testimony 
 against the progress of knowledge, which when accom 
 panied by a corresponding progress in vice and disho- 
 
203 
 
 uesty, is a curse rather than a blessing. If there is & 
 thorough going rascal and cheat in this world, it is chy- 
 mistry, who is perpetually practising deceptions upon 
 mankind. The scoundrel can imitate, or disguise every 
 thing. He can make a piece of glass into diamonds, 
 rubies, sapphires, and topazes, so that none but a jewel 
 ler, who is commonly as great a rogue as himself, can 
 detect them. He can make excellent beer, without 
 either malt or hops ; and what is worthy of remark, it 
 will not poison a man half as soon as arsenic or coppe 
 ras. He can make tea out of turnip tops, so as to 
 deceive a China merchant ; he can make gas out of coal 
 cinders, and money out of gas ; he can extract the red 
 ink out of a check and leave the black ink untouched ; 
 he can change a bank note of one dollar into one of a 
 hundred ; he can adulterate confectionary, and poison 
 half mankind without their being a whit the wiser, ex 
 cept they learn something after death. In short, it is 
 my humble opinion, that if the worthy revisors of out 
 laws, had decreed to hang every professor of chymistry 
 except such as could demonstrate their entire ignorance 
 of the science, and put their scholars to learning trades 
 it would prevent the ladies from wearing false jewels^ 
 and add greatly to the honesty of the rising generation. 
 It is bad enough for women to wear false curls, false 
 faces and false hearts, without deceiving us with false 
 jewels. One can bear the disappointment in the heart 
 and the face, but to be taken in, in the diamonds, i& 
 heart breaking." 
 
 " Troy," according to Alderman Janson, "is already 
 Accommodated with a bank or two, without winch oitf 
 
304 
 
 poor little helpless villages would be like children with 
 out nurses. But people are never content in this world, 
 notwithstanding the march of mind, and the progress of 
 public improvement, and the Trojans are at this moment 
 petitioning the legislature for another bank, utterly forget 
 ful of the old proverb that too much of a good thing is good 
 for nothing. Were I to define a legislature of the present 
 approved fashion, I would say it was a public body exclu 
 sively occupied with private business ; for in truth were 
 We to look closely at their proceedings, we should find 
 almost all of them spending the whole of their time 
 in passing bills for banks, incorporating companies 
 for the most frivolous purposes, mending old char 
 ters, and making new ones. In the mean time, the general 
 interests of the people are neglected, and laws affecting 
 the whole community, either not passed at all, or passed 
 so full of imperfections, that it is more trouble to mend 
 them afterwards, than to make new ones. A plague on 
 this busy spirit which is called the spirit of improve 
 ment, but which is nothing more than an impertinent 
 disposition to meddle with the concerns of other people, 
 and so substitute our own theoretical notions in place of 
 the practical experience of others. Why not ' let very 
 \yell alone ?' 
 
 11 1 once had two near neighbours, who lived in a couple 
 of old fashioned Dutch houses, which though they made 
 JIG great figure without, were very snug and comforta 
 ble within, and accorded very well with their circumstan 
 ces, which were but moderate. One of the houses hail 
 sunk at one of the corners a few inches, in consequence 
 of some little defect in the foundation ; but this had * 
 
205 
 
 happened twenty years before, and the building had ever 
 since remained perfectly stable, being reckoned not the 
 least injured, or the worse for this little eccentricity of 
 shape. The other house had some little defect in the 
 chimney, which although it might as well not have been 
 there, was of no serious consequence. Both lived per 
 fectly content, and if a wish would have removed these 
 trifling defects, they would hardly have taken the trouble 
 to utter it. 
 
 " In process of time however the spirit of improve 
 ment got into our part of the town, and some great little 
 busy body, suggested to the owners of the two houses, 
 the perfect ease with which the sunken corner and the 
 crooked chimney, might be remedied at a trifling ex 
 pense. At first they wisely shook their heads ; but the 
 advice was repeated every day, and every body knows 
 that the perpetual repetition of the same thing, is like 
 the dropping of water it will wear away a stone at last. 
 My two neighbours at length began to talk over the mat 
 ter seriously together, and one day came to consult me 
 On the matter. * Let very well alone,' said I, and they 
 Went away, according to custom to do exactly contrary 
 to the advice they came to solicit. The owner of the 
 house with the sunken corner, and he of the crooked 
 chimney, accordingly the next day went to work under 
 the direction of the disciple of public improvements, 
 to remedy these mortal inconveniences which they had 
 borne for more than twenty years with the most perfect 
 
 1 convenience. One got a great jack screw under the 
 delinquent corner ; the other raised a mighty beam 
 
 pagainst his chimney, and to work, they went, screwing 
 
 18 
 
206 
 
 and pushing with a vengeance. In less than fifteen mi* 
 mites, the crooked chimney, being stubborn with age 7 
 and withal somewhat infirm, instead of quietly return 
 ing to the perpendicular, broke short off, and falling 
 through the roof, upon the garret floor, carried that with 
 it, and the whole mass stopped not to rest, till it found 
 solid bottom in the cellar. It was well that the dame 
 and all the children, were out of doors, witnessing the 
 progress of the experiment. Here was an honest, 
 comfortable little Dutch house, sacrificed to the im 
 provement of a crooked chimney. 
 
 " The man of the sunken corner, succeeded to his 
 utter satisfaction, in placing the four corners on a level, 
 and was delighted with his improvement ; until going into 
 his house, he beheld with utter dismay, that the shock 
 given to the old edifice, and the disturbance of its vari 
 ous parts which had been cemented by time into one solid 
 mass, had cracked his walls, so that they looked like a 
 fish net, dislocated the window sills, removed the ends 
 of the beams from their ancient resting places, in short, 
 wrecked the whole establishment. It was become like 
 a sieve, and the next time it rained, the whole family 
 came out like drowned rats. There was not a dry 
 corner in the whole house, nor a dry thread on its occu 
 pants. 
 
 " The poor man set himself to work to remedy these 
 inconveniences, and from time to time laid out a great 
 deal of money, in stopping crannies, and setting the dis 
 located limbs. But all would not do the whole frame 
 of the edifice had been shaken to its centre, by the dis 
 turbance of its parts. There was no mending it ; and 
 
207 
 
 nothing was left but to pull it down, and build a ne\v 
 one, with all the modern improvements. The man of 
 the crooked chimney also resolved to do the same. 
 But the man who begins to dig a new cellar, very often 
 commences undermining his own prosperity. The 
 houses were at last finished, and very fine houses they 
 W ere but they did not belong to the owners. They 
 were mortgaged for more than half they were worth, 
 and in process of time money growing very scarce } 
 they were sold for just enough to satisfy the creditors. 
 The end of all was, that my good neighbours had ex 
 changed the little houses with the sunken corner and 
 crooked chimney, for an immense mansion, without 
 walls or chimney. They were literally turned out of 
 doors. ' I wish we had let very well alone,' said they 
 to me, as they departed to the wilderness to begin the 
 world anew." Truly mine uncle, the worthy alderman, 
 was at least three thousand years behind the spirit of 
 the age. Is it not better to live in fine houses belong 
 ing to other people, than in little old fashioned ones of 
 our -own 1 We wish the alderman was alive to answer 
 this question. 
 
 If the traveller thinks we get on too slowly, in his 
 impatience to arrive at the springs, let him leave us and 
 our book behind him, and take the consequences. 
 Does he think we are a high pressure steam boat, to 
 travel fifteen miles an hour without stopping a moment 
 to look round and consider 1 Or is he so desperately 
 unlettered and behind hand with the spirit of the age, 
 as to implant in the barren wilderness of his mind, the 
 motion, that the business of book making is like that of 
 
208 
 
 brick making, a plain, straight forward handicraft affair., 
 wherein a man has nothing to do but mind his own bu 
 siness ? Belike he does not know, that to make a book, 
 it is necessary to tell all that other people have told 
 before toex pand the little grains of gold dust, which 
 other pains taking authors have picked up with infinite 
 labour, till, like the gold beater, he makes them cover 
 the leaves of a whole folio. Perhaps he has never 
 heard of the great poet, Johannes Secundus, who spun 
 a whole volume of poetry out of a kiss nor of the 
 ever to be renowned and never to be forgotten writer, 
 who divided the half of an idea into six parts, and 
 manufactured a volume out of each or of the still 
 greater genius, whom we place on the tip of the highest 
 hair in the head of Milton, Shakspeare, Cervantes, and 
 Voltaire, who composed sixteen works without any 
 idea at all. Preserve us ! any fool may write with 
 his head full of ideas ; but no one knows the troubles 
 of an author, who is obliged to pick up his crumbs by 
 the way side to diverge to the right and to the left to 
 levy contributions upon every thing and every body he 
 meets to skim the froth of wit, and dip up the sedi 
 ment of wisdom to repeat the same thing in a hun 
 dred different ways, and disguise it each time in such a 
 manner, that the most inquisitive blue stocking cannot 
 detect it, even with the aid of her spectacles and the 
 reviewers. This this is labour, this is mighty toil ; 
 and it is the pains taking writers of such books, that 
 should be rewarded with money and immortality, since 
 the labourer is always worthy of his hire. He works 
 premeditatingly, and as it were with malice afore* 
 
209 
 
 thought ; he makes, by dint of hard labour, the most 
 barren soil productive, while your boasted genius 
 merely scratches the surface of the rich alluvion, and 
 behold the product is a hundred fold ! Therefore it 
 is, we say again, and repeat it three hundred times, that 
 if the travelling reader is not willing to wait with us 
 till we have finished descanting on the Trojans, let him 
 go on and welcome. We wash our hands of him, and 
 there is an end of the matter. 
 
 Nobody knows the difficulty, under which we unfor 
 tunate authors labour, in writing a book, without run 
 ning our heads against the rascally ancients, or the still 
 more rascally moderns, who got the start of us, and 
 stole all our ideas, before they came down to posterity. 
 They have not left us a single original idea to our 
 backs, but have swallowed up every thing with a most 
 insatiable appetite ; insomuch that the writers of the 
 present day, are many of them obliged to become ab 
 surd or unintelligible, in order to strike out a miserable, 
 half starved novelty, which perishes peradventure at 
 the end of a year, in spite of the dry nursing and stall 
 feeding of diurnal puffers. The art of printing has 
 ruined literature, and destroyed the value of learning. 
 Before this mischievous invention, which is justly as 
 cribed to the devil, a manuscript was a treasure, and 
 the writer of it a phenomenon. It was read at the 
 Olympic games, and the author crowned with bays, 
 and considered on a footing with the victors in the cha 
 riot races, and in boxing matches. Then a manu 
 script was a rarity, a bonne bouche, only for epicures 
 on high days and holidays ; now a book is no greater 
 18* 
 
210 
 
 rarity than bacon and greens in Virginia, and the clod 
 hopper of this country returns from his daily labours 
 to a book, as to his customary supper fare. Then too, 
 the fortunate man, who got possession of the precious 
 papyrus, or the invaluable parchment roll, had it all to 
 himself, and could borrow what he pleased, without be 
 ing called upon to pay the penalty of being cut up in 
 a review. There was no such thing as plagiarism, at 
 least there was no finding it out, which is quite synony 
 mous. Even in later days, after the mischievous and 
 diabolical art of multiplying books to infinity prevailed, 
 we find, that a criminal who could read, might plead the 
 benefit of clergy, and if he read legit ut clericus, he was 
 only burnt in the hand instead of being hanged. But 
 now, in good faith, if every man was to escape hang 
 ing, who could not only read, but who had written a 
 book, Jack Ketch would hold a sinecure, and there 
 would be great robbing of the gallows. It is without 
 doubt greatly to be lamented, that the practice of burn 
 ing books, by the hands of the common hangman, and 
 cutting off the ears of their authors, is no longer in 
 fashion. In this way the world got rid of some of 
 these crying nuisances, and many were thereby discou 
 raged from inflicting any more of them upon their un 
 fortunate fellow creatures. But now, forsooth, such is 
 the license allowed or claimed, that the least morsel of 
 a man will set him down, pen in hand, intermeddle with 
 the deepest matters, run away with a subject he knows 
 not what to do with, when he has got it, and thereby 
 prevent some great scholar from thereafter doing it jus- 
 
211 
 
 tice. Verily little men should never meddle with great 
 matters, as the fable aptly advisee. 
 
 A cunning, dexterous angler once threw his line into 
 a deep clear stream, where he waited patiently and 
 watchfully, till he saw a fine trout slowly come forth 
 from his profound recess under the cool shady bank, 
 and float cautiously towards the bait. But just as he 
 was about swallowing it, a little rascally minnow, not as 
 long as my finger, darted before him, took hold of the 
 hook, and away he skirred with it to the shallowest part 
 of the brook. The trout swam slowly back to his re 
 cess, and the angler pulling up the minnow, and taking 
 it in his hand, exclaimed : " Thou art so small and 
 contemptible, that I would let thee go again, were it 
 not that thy impertinent meddling lost me a fine trout." 
 So saying, he cast it indignantly on the sand, where it 
 perished miserably in the noontide sun. 
 
 It is refreshing to see the advances made in dress, 
 and other evidences of the " march of mind, and the 
 progress of public improvement," in Troy, and in all 
 our little villages and thriving towns. Every village 
 church is as fine as a fiddle on Sundays, and what it 
 wants in heads, it makes up in hats. The fashions of 
 New York are adopted with as much facility in a coun 
 try village, as the dress of a Parisian opera dancer is 
 adopted in New York, and the same rules are followed 
 in adapting them to the figure and person. If for in 
 stance, a belle is about six feet high, she is content 
 with a hat six feet in circumference, with the contents 
 of one milliner's shop on it, by way of ornament. But 
 if she is but four feet one, it is agreeable to the fashign- 
 
212 
 
 able rules of proportion to make up in hat, for the de 
 ficiency in height. She must have a hat twice as large 
 as the lady of six feet, and two milliners' shops at least 
 to ornament its vast expanse. This is according to 
 the law of nature, which bestows the largest tops on 
 the lowest trees, and gives to the cabbage a head bigger 
 than that of a sun flower. Some egregious cynics will 
 have it that a lady ought to wear a hat, somewhat in re 
 ference to the size of the town she inhabits, and never 
 one larger than the town itself, as we are informed has 
 been the case in two or three instances. It is ob 
 served that the toad stool the only thing in nature 
 whose proportions resemble a fashionable woman of the 
 present dynasty never spreads its umbrella beyond the 
 stump which it proceeds from, and that this rule should 
 govern a lady's bonnet. But it is difficult to persuade 
 the sex to adopt the old fashioned notions about taste- 
 and proportion, which have been entirely superseded by 
 the march of mind and the progress of public improve 
 ment. And so much the better. A woman who never 
 changes even from bad to worse, is no better than a 
 rusty weathercock, which never shows which way the 
 wind blows. Nevertheless people, and particularly 
 women and bantams, ought never to hold their heads 
 too high, as the following pregnant example showeth. 
 
 One day a little bantam cock, with a high top knot, 
 who was exceedingly vain because he had so many fea 
 thers to his legs, that he could hardly walk, seeing a 
 goose duck her head in pass'ing under a bar at least six- 
 feet high, thus accosted her : " Why thou miserable^ 
 bare legged caitiff! thou shovel nosed, web footed, pi- 
 
213 
 
 geon toed scavenger of the highways ! thou fool of 
 three elements ! not content with ignominiously crawl 
 ing under a fence, thou must even nod thy empty pate> 
 by way of confessing thy inferiority. Behold how we 
 bantams do these things !" So saying, with a great 
 deal of puffing and fluttering, with the help of his bill, 
 he managed to gain the top of the fence, where he 
 clapt his wings, and was just on the point of crowing 
 in triumph, when a great hawk, that was sailing over 
 his head, pounced down on him, and seizing him by the 
 top knot, carried him off without ceremony. The 
 goose, cocking her eye, and taking a side view of the 
 affair, significantly shook her feathers, and the next 
 time she passed under a bar, bowed her head lower 
 than ever. 
 
 The march of mind, and the progress of public im 
 provement, in the country towns and villages, appears 
 moreover in the great progress made in good eating, 
 and other elegant luxuries. The great republican pa 
 tent of nobility, dyspepsy, is almost as common in 
 these, as in New York, where our valet, a gentleman 
 of colour, is grievously afflicted with it, and has taken 
 to white mustard seed. We have eaten such dinners 
 among the burghers of Troy, as would have made old 
 Homer's mouth water, could he have seen them. 
 They actually emulated those of a first rate broker, 
 who does not owe above twice as much as he ever ex 
 pects to pay, and can therefore afford to be liberal. 
 This giving of good dinners, at the expense of other 
 people, is a capital expedient in economy, particularly 
 deserving of imitation. What can be more delightful, 
 
214 
 
 than to see our companions enjoying themselves with 
 the most glorious of all sublunary delights, at the ex 
 pense of any body that will lend us money ; thus ma 
 king friends, and gaining immortal glory as a generous, 
 liberal fellow, without a penny of one's own in pocket ! 
 People are always so grateful too for good dinners, in 
 somuch that we have known a "<l d liberal, open 
 
 hearted fellow," as he was called, who had ruined three 
 or four of his acquaintances, by giving good dinners, at 
 their cost, that was actually invited afterwards, three 
 times, to take pot luck with some of his stall fed 
 friends, who had grown fat upon him. We remember 
 being at one of this liberal fellow's dinners, when the 
 following toast was drunk with great applause, while he 
 was called out by an impertinent creditor : " Long live 
 our hospitable entertainer if he dont outlive his mo 
 ney." On the subject of these village feasts and 
 sylvan luxuries, see SparTord's Gazetteer, for many ho 
 nest and excellent remarks. As a fellow labourer in 
 enlightening travellers, we heartily and seriously re 
 commend his work to the public patronage. Let it not 
 be understood, that we singled out Troy as particularly 
 distinguished in these elegant extravagancies. But if 
 it were, the inhabitants deserve no credit above their 
 neighbours, seeing there are two or three banks in the 
 town ; and what would be the use of banks, if people 
 did not spend their money faster than they earn it ? 
 
 It will hardly be worth the traveller* while to visit 
 Troy, except to partake of these good dinners ; for after 
 reading our book, he will know more about it than he 
 could learn in ten visits, and being now so near the fo 
 
215 
 
 cus of all worldly delights, the springs, every moment 
 becomes precious. Let him therefore keep on the 
 west side of the river, crossing the Mohawk just below 
 the Cohoes Falls, of which he will have a fine view 
 from the bridge. Here he may stop fifteen minutes to 
 look at the locks which connect the great canal with the 
 Hudson, as a flight of steps connects the upper and 
 lower stories of a house. " Without doubt," observes 
 our old fashioned friend, Alderman Janson, whom we 
 quote as the great apostle of antediluvian notions, 
 " without doubt canals and locks are good things in 
 moderation ; but some how or other, I think I have a 
 prejudice in favour of rivers, where they are to be had, 
 and where they are not, people may as well make up 
 their minds to do without them. In sober truth, it is 
 my firm opinion, and I dont care whether any body 
 agrees with me or not, that the great operation of a ca 
 nal is, merely to concentrate on its line, and within its 
 immediate influence, that wealth, population, and busi 
 ness, which, if let alone, would diffuse themselves na 
 turally, equally, and beneficially through every vein and 
 artery of the country. The benefits of a canal are con 
 fined to a certain distance, while all beyond is actually 
 injured, although all pay their proportion of the ex 
 penses of its construction." 
 
 " I was once," continues the alderman, " a little mad 
 \nyself in the canal way, like most people, and actually 
 made a pilgrimage in a canal boat all the way to Buffalo. 
 I found every body along the sides of the canal delight 
 ed with the vast public benefits of these contrivances ; 
 they could sell the product of their lands, and th$ lands 
 
216 
 
 themselves for twice or thrice as much as formerly. 1 
 rubbed my hands with great satisfaction, and was more 
 in love with canals than ever. Returning, I diverged 
 from the line of the canal, into some of the more re 
 mote counties, and found all the people scratching their 
 heads. ' What is the matter, good people all, of every 
 sort, what can you want now the great canal is finish 
 ed?' ' The d 1 take the great canal,' cried all with 
 
 one voice : * every body is mad to go and settle on the 
 canal.' ' To be sure they are, my good friends and 
 fellow citizens, and that is the beauty of a canal ; it 
 raises the price of land within a certain distance to 
 double what it was before.' * Yes, and it lowers the 
 price of land not within a certain distance in an equal if 
 not greater proportion; it is robbing Peter to pay Paul. 
 Nobody thinks of coming here to settle now they are 
 all for the canal.' O ho, thought I, then a canal has two 
 sides, as well as two ends." 
 
 The alderman then goes on to speculate on the diffi 
 culty of increasing the actual quantity of good in this 
 world, maintaining that what is gained in one place is 
 lost in another ; that public improvements, are for the 
 most part, private speculations, and that the accumula 
 tion of wealth in a particular tract of country, or in the 
 hands of a small portion of a community, is always at 
 the expense of the larger portions of each, and renders 
 the one bloated, the other impotent, which position he 
 illustrates by the following fable. 
 
 - " A long time ago, when men were not much wiser 
 than pigs are now a days, the head became exceedingly 
 dissatisfied at seeing the blood circulating freely through 
 
all parts of the body, even to the tips of the fingers, and 
 ends of the toes, without discrimination, and prayed to 
 Jupiter to remedy this democratic, levelling economy 
 of nature. The gods always grant foolish prayers, and 
 accordingly Jupiter decreed that the blood should no 
 longer circulate to the extremities, but confine itself to 
 certain favoured parts, such as the head, the heart, the 
 liver, and the lungs, which in a little time became so 
 overcharged and unwieldy, that they could hardly per 
 form their ordinary functions. The head grew giddy, 
 the heart palpitated with oppressive struggles, the liver 
 expanded into bloated inactivity, and the lungs puffed 
 like a pair of bellows. Meanwhile, the extremities 
 being deprived of the principle of life, thus withdrawn 
 to pamper the other parts, gradually shrivelled up, and 
 lost their elasticity, insomuch that the hands could no 
 longer perform their functions, or the legs support the 
 overgrown head above them. * Jupiter !' cried the 
 head, 4 restore the circulation of the blood to its former 
 channels, and let nature again have her way.' ' Fool,* 
 replied Jupiter, laughing, ' dost thou think it as easy to 
 restore as to disturb the order of nature. Hadst thou 
 let her alone, each limb and organ of the frame to which 
 thou belongest, would have equally partaken of the 
 principle of life, and all would have grown with a happy, 
 harmonious proportion, into healthful, slow and vigorous 
 manhood. Now it is too late. Even the gods cannot 
 remedy the consequences of folly, however they may 
 remove its causes. Thou hast grown prematurely, 
 and it is ordained that such never live long. The 
 mushroom of a night, is the ruin of a day. 7 A rush of 
 19 
 
218 
 
 blood to the brain, brought on apoplexy, and the decree 
 of the gods was fulfilled." 
 
 The ride along the glorious Hudson, from the Mo 
 hawk to where the road turns westward to the springs, 
 presents a perpetual succession of enchanting scenery. 
 But by this time the inquisitive traveller is doubtless 
 full of anticipations of the delights of these Castalian 
 fountains, where a thousand nymphs more beautiful, or 
 at least better dressed, than ever haunted enchanted 
 stream, or chrystal fount of yore, quaff the inspiring 
 beverage, till -till one is astonished what becomes of it ! 
 We will therefore delay him no longer. Perish the 
 beauties of nature ! What are they all when compared 
 with those exquisite combinations of art and nature, 
 which puzzle the understanding to decide which had 
 the most to do in their production, the milliner or the 
 goddess. 
 
 BALLSTON. 
 
 The first view of Ballston, generally has the same 
 effect upon visiters, that matrimony is said to have upon 
 young lovers. It is very extraordinary, but the first 
 impression derived from the opening scene we mean 
 of Ballston is that it is the ugliest, most uninviting 
 spot in the universe. But this impression soon wears 
 away, as he daily associates with beautiful damsels, the 
 lustre of whose unfading, and ineffable charms, as it 
 were, diffuses itself over the whole face of nature, con 
 verting the muddy swamp into a green meadow, the 
 muddy brook into a chrystal stream meandering musi- 
 
219 
 
 cally along, the sand hills into swelling, full bosomed 
 protuberances of nature, and Sans Souci, into the palace 
 of the fairy Feliciana, where, as every body knows, 
 people were so happy they did not know what to do 
 with themselves. We defy any man to be surrounded 
 by beautiful women, even though it were in utter dark 
 ness, without having his imagination exclusively satu 
 rated with ideas of beauty, let the surrounding objects 
 fee what they may. For as the poet has it 
 
 " The eye of beauty, like the glorious sun, 
 Casts a reflected lustre all around, 
 Making deformity itself partake 
 In its wide glowing splendours." 
 
 The localities of Ballston and Saratoga, are ennobled 
 and illustrated, by this singular influence of beauty; 
 otherwise, it must be confessed, if they depended only 
 on their own intrinsic capabilities they would be no way 
 extraordinary. Yet, to do them justice, they are not 
 altogether desperate as to pretensions. If the marshes 
 were only green meadows, dotted with stately elms ; 
 the sand hills richly cultivated with fields of golden 
 wheat, and stately corn, waving its green ribbons to the 
 breeze ; the muddy brook a pastoral, purling river ; the 
 pine trees stately forests of oak and hickory, and their 
 stumps were a little more picturesque, neither Balls- 
 ton or Saratoga, need be ashamed to show themselves 
 any day in the week, not excepting Sunday! As it is, 
 candour itself must admit, that their beauties are alto 
 gether reflected from the ladies' eyes. 
 
 Being now arrived at the head quarters, the very focus 
 
220 
 
 and hot bed of elegance, fashion, and refinement, it be* 
 comes us to be more particular in our directions to the 
 inexperienced traveller, who peradventure hath never 
 sojourned at a watering place. For this purpose we 
 have with great pains, and at the expense of a vast deal 
 of actual observation, collected, digested, and codified a 
 system of rules and regulations, derived from the best 
 sources, and sanctioned by the example of people of 
 the very first tournure, as well as the most finished edu 
 cation : to wit, brokers of eminence, retired bankrupts 
 living upon their means, aspiring apprentices, and dan 
 dies of the first pretensions. For the purpose of being 
 more succinct, clear, and explicit, we have divided our 
 code into chapters, comprizing a complete set of pre 
 cepts for the government of every class of persons^ 
 beginning, however, with a few general rules and stand 
 ing directions of universal application. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The first requisite on arriving at either Ballston or 
 Saratoga, is to procure lodgings. In the choice of a 
 house, the traveller will do well to consult the news 
 papers, to see if the landlord has a proper conception of 
 the art of puffing himself, without which, we affirm with 
 out fear of contradiction, no man has any legitimate 
 claim to fashionable notoriety. A fellow who has not 
 interest to raise a puff, must be something more than a 
 
221 
 
 swindler or a murderer. We are aware that certain 
 wiseacres, with less money than even wit, and less 
 knowledge of the world than a bookworm, have been 
 pleased on divers occasions to ridicule this system of 
 puffs and recommendations, as exclusively appertaining 
 to quackery in medicine. But let us tell them to their 
 teeth, that a system applicable to quack doctors, has 
 been found by actual experience, to answer just as well 
 for quack lawyers, quack parsons, quack politicians, 
 quack philosophers, quack poets, quack novelists, quack 
 publicans, and quacks of all sorts, sizes, dimensions, 
 qualities, appurtenances, and pretensions. " Let them 
 laugh that win," said the renowned Pedagogus who 
 once compiled a book in which he made the unparallel 
 ed and gigantic improvement of spelling words as they 
 are pronounced, instead of pronouncing them as they 
 are spelled. He got all the schoolmasters we beg 
 pardon principals of gymnasia, polytechnic, philotech- 
 nic, chirographic, and adelphic academies, to recom 
 mend his book, by selling it at a great discount. 
 Honest Thomas Dilworth forthwith hid his powdered 
 head, especially when in addition to this, upwards of 
 three hundred great politicians, who were ex-officio, 
 scholars and philosophers, recommended the book as a 
 most valuable work, distinctly marking the progress of 
 mind, and the astonishing strides of the gigantic spirit of 
 the age. All the rational people then living, of whom 
 however there were not above a hundred millions, laugh 
 ed most consumedly at the sage Pedagogus and his cer 
 tificates ; but he only replied, " Let them laugh that 
 win." The sage Pedagogus in the course of twenty 
 19* 
 
222 
 
 years, sold upwards of six million copies of his book, 
 and made his fortune. Which was the wiser, the sage 
 Pedagogus or the people that laughed at him? 
 
 Therefore it is we say again, and again, repeating it 
 three thousand times to all who will listen, go to the 
 house that has the greatest number of puffs to its back, 
 although it may, and doubtless does sometimes happen 
 that they are indited by some honest man of the quill, 
 who has settled his bill by bartering his praise for the 
 landlord's pudding. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF DRINKING THE WATERS. 
 
 There is no doubt in the opinions of those who have 
 observed the vast progress of the human mind, since the 
 discovery of the new planet Herschell, and the invention of 
 self-sharpening pencils, that the ancients laboured under 
 the disease of a constipated understanding. Else they 
 Could never have differed as they did about the summum 
 bonwn, or great good, holding at least three hundred 
 different opinions, some of which were inexpressibly 
 absurd; as for instance, that which pointed out the 
 practice of virtue as the only foundation of happiness. 
 But ever since the discovery of the new planet, and the 
 self-sharpening pencil, and above all, the invention of 
 the chess playing automaton, all rational animals, from 
 the philosopher to the learned pig, unite in pronouncing 
 
a good appetite, with the wherewithal to satisfy it, to be 
 the real, and only summum bonwn, the fountain of all 
 our knowledge, as well as the source of all substantial 
 happiness. How is it that the said pig is taught the 
 noble art of A, B, C, except through the medium of 
 his appetite 1 and what impels the animal man to the 
 exertion of his faculties, bodily and mental, but his ap 
 petite ? Necessity, says the old proverb, is the mother 
 of invention ; and what is necessity, but hunger ? The 
 vital importance of a good appetite, cannot be better 
 illustrated than by the following passage from the works 
 of M. Huet, bishop of Avranches, the most learned man 
 of his age, if not the most learned man of any age. 
 " Whenever," says he, " I receive letters late in the 
 evening, or very near the time of dining, I lay them by 
 for another opportunity. Letters generally convey 
 more bad news than good ; so that, on reading them 
 either at night or at noon, I am sure to spoil my appe 
 tite, or my repose." 
 
 It is doubtless in the pursuit of this summum bonum, 
 a good appetite, and the means of satisfying it, that 
 thousands of people flock to the springs, from all quar 
 ters. It is for this they exchange the delight of making 
 money, for the honour of spending it ; it is for this the 
 matron quits the comforts of her domestic circle, to 
 mingle in the crowd by day, and sleep at night, in a 
 room six feet by nine, opening on a passage where 
 the tread of human feet is never intermitted, from sun 
 set to sunrise from sunrise to sunset. It is for this 
 the delicate and sensitive girl, musters her smiles, nur 
 tures her roses, and fills her bandboxes. It is for this the 
 
224 
 
 snug citizen, who as he waxes rich, becomes poor id 
 appetite, and weak of digestion, opens his long accu 
 mulating hoards, and exchanges the cherished maxims 
 of saving, for those of spending his money. It is for this 
 the beau reserves the last few hundreds that ought to go 
 to the paying of his tailor, determined to enjoy the de 
 lights of eating, though the tailor starve, in spite of goose 
 and cabbage. In short, it is for this, and this alone, his 
 grace of York, of blessed memory, allowed to his cook, 
 the thrice renowned and immortal Monsieur Ude, twelve 
 hundred pounds sterling a year, of the money that ought 
 otherwise to have gone to the paying of his creditors, 
 to whom his grace bequeathed only the worst half of 
 the summum bonum, a good appetite, with nothing to eat. 
 Next to a good appetite for dinner, a keen relish for 
 breakfast, constitutes the happiness of our existence. 
 In order to attain to this the first requisite is to rise 
 early in the morning, and wait a couple of hours with 
 as much impatience as possible, drinking a glass of 
 Congress water about every ten minutes, and walking 
 briskly between each, till the walk is inevitably increa 
 sed to a trot, and the trot to a gallop, when the requisite 
 preliminaries of a good appetite for breakfast are con 
 summated. Philosophers and chymists have never yet 
 fairly accounted for this singular propensity to running, 
 produced by the waters, nor shall we attempt to solve 
 the difficulty. It is sufficient for us that the great good 
 is attained, in the acquisition of a good appetite for 
 breakfast. And here we will stop a moment to notice a 
 ridiculous calumny of certain people, who we suspect 
 prefer brandy and water to all the pure waters of the 
 
225 
 
 springs : to wit, that it is the morning air and exercise 
 that produces this propensity to running, and the keen 
 appetite consequent upon it. The refutation of this 
 absurd notion is found, in the fact that the waters of 
 Ballston do not occasion people to run half as fast, and 
 that consequently they dont eat half as much as they do 
 at Saratoga. In truth, it is worth a man's while to go 
 there only to see people eat, particularly the amatory 
 philosophers, who maintain that some young ladies live 
 upon air ; others upon the odour of roses ; and others 
 upon the Waverley novels. 
 
 CHAPTER III, 
 
 OF EATING. 
 
 It is not necessary to be very particular on this head, 
 as the rules we have given in respect to the deportment 
 of the elegant tourist, in steam boats, will sufficiently 
 apply to the springs. We will merely observe that 
 great vigilance and celerity is necessary, in both places, 
 inasmuch as the viands have a habit of vanishing before 
 one can say Jack Robinson. One special rule, which 
 we cannot by any means omit mentioning, is, never to 
 stop to lose time in considering what you shall eat, or 
 to help your neighbours ; if you do, you are a gone 
 man. 
 
 We remember to have seen a spruce John Bull, who 
 
 I 
 
226 
 
 from his carrying a memorandum book, and making 
 frequent notes, was no doubt a forger of books of tra 
 vels, who, the first morning he attended breakfast at 
 Congress Hall, afforded us infinite diversion. He had 
 placed his affections most evidently on a jolly smoking 
 steak, that to say the honest truth, was the object of 
 our own secret devoirs, and stood leaning on the back 
 of a chair, directly opposite, waiting for that bell which 
 excels the music of the spheres, or of the veritable 
 Signorina, in the ears of a true amateur. At the first 
 tinkling of this delightful instrument, a nimble young 
 fellow, from the purlieus of the Arcade, with a body no 
 bigger than a wasp, slipped in between, took the chair, 
 and transferred a large half of the steak to his own 
 uses. The Signior John Bull looked awfully dignified, 
 but said nothing, and departed in search of another 
 Steak, in a paroxysm of hunger. He had swallowed 
 eight tumblers of Congress that morning. In the 
 meanwhile he had lost the chance of getting any seat 
 at all, until he was accommodated at a side table, 
 where we detected him making several notes in his 
 memorandum book, which, without doubt, bore hard 
 upon the Yankees. It is astonishing how much the 
 tone of a traveller's book depends upon the tone of his 
 stomach. We once travelled in Italy with an English 
 book maker by trade, who occasionally read portions of 
 his lucubrations to us, and we always had occasion to 
 notice this singular connexion of the brain and the sto 
 mach. If he got a good breakfast, he let the Italians 
 off quite easy ; if his dinner was satisfactory, he grum- 
 Med out a little praise ; but if he got a good supper and 
 
227 
 
 bed, he would actually overflow in a downright eulo 
 gium. But wo to Italy if his breakfast was scanty 
 his dinner indifferent his supper wanting and his 
 bed peopled with fleas. Ye powers ! how he cut and 
 slashed away ! The country was naught the men all 
 thieves and beggars the women no better than they 
 should be the morals good fo* nothing the religion 
 still worse the monks a set of lazy dogs and the 
 pope was sure to be classed with his old playmate, the 
 
 d 1 ! Of so much consequence is a good dinner to 
 
 the reputation of nations. It behooves, therefore, all 
 tavern keepers to bear in mind, that they have in trust 
 the honour of their country, and that they be careful to 
 Stuff all travellers by profession, and all professors of 
 the noble art of puffing, with the good things of their 
 larders to station a servant behind the back of each 
 of their chairs, with special orders to be particularly at 
 tentive and to give them the best beds in the house. 
 So shall their country flourish in immortal books of tra 
 vels and diurnals, and taverns multiply and prosper 
 evermore. There is no place in the world where this 
 rule of feeding people into good humour is more infalli 
 ble than at the springs, where the appetite becomes so 
 gloriously teasing and imperative, that it is credibly re 
 ported in the annals of the bon ton, that a delicate 
 young lady did once eat up her beau, in a rural walk 
 before breakfast. Certain it is, the unfortunate young 
 gentleman was never heard of, and his bills at Congress 
 Hall, and at the tailors, remain unpaid even unto this 
 day. 
 
228 
 
 The reader will please to have a little patience here, 
 while we stop to take a pinch of snuff before we com 
 mence another chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ! 
 
 OF FASHIONABLE TOURNURE, AND THE BEHAVIOUR BE 
 COMING IN THE YOUNG LADIES AT THE SPRINGS. 
 
 1. Young ladies should never flirt very violently, ex 
 cept with married men, or those engaged to be married, 
 because nobody will suspect they mean any harm in 
 these cases, and besides, the pleasure will be enhanced 
 by making their wives and mistresses tolerably unhap 
 py. Pleasure, without giving pain to somebody, is not 
 worth enjoying. 
 
 2. Young ladies sh*ould take special care of their 
 bishops. The loss of a bishop is dangerous in other 
 games besides chess. 
 
 3. Young ladies should take every occasion to in 
 dulge to excess in drinking we mean the waters be 
 cause it is good for their complexions. 
 
 4. Young ladies should always sit down, whenever 
 they are tired of dancing, whether other ladies in the 
 set have had their turn or not ; and they should never 
 sit down till they are tired, under the vulgar idea of 
 giving those a chance of dancing who have had none 
 before. It is the very height of tournure to pay not the 
 
229 
 
 least attention to the feelings of other people except 
 indeed they are of the first fashion. 
 
 5. If a young lady dont like the people standing op 
 posite to her in the dance, she ought to quit her place 
 and seek another, taking care to give the said people 
 such a look, as will explain her motive. 
 
 6. Young ladies should be careful to remember on all 
 occasions, that according to the most fashionable deci 
 sions, it is the height of good breeding to be ill bred, 
 and that what used to be called politeness, is consider 
 ed by the best society as great a bore as the tunnel un 
 der the Thames. 
 
 7. Young ladies should never forget that blushing is 
 a sign of guilt. 
 
 8. Young ladies, and indeed old ladies too, must al 
 ways bear in mind, that fine feathers make fine birds ; 
 
 i and that the more feathers they wear, the more they ap 
 proximate to high ton. It is of no sort of conse- 
 i quence, according to the present mode, whether the 
 I dress is proper for the occasion or not. A walking 
 dress ought to be as fine as one for an assembly, for 
 the peacock spreads his tail equally on the top of a hen 
 roost, as on the gate of a palace. The infallible rule 
 for dressing is, to get as much finery, and as many co 
 lours, as possible, and put them all on at once. It 
 looks like economy to wear only a few ornaments at a 
 time, and of all things on the face of the earth, nothing 
 is so low, vulgar, and bourgeois, as economy. No 
 lady who utters the word, .even in her sleep, can ever 
 aspire to tournure. We knew an unfortunate damsel, 
 who ruined herself for ever in good society, by being 
 20 
 
 
230 
 
 overheard to say, she could not afford to buy a Cash 
 mere. She was unanimously left out of the circle 
 thenceforth and forevermore. 
 
 9. In going into a ball or supper room where there is 
 a great crowd, young ladies should not wait the motions 
 of the married ones, 'but push forward as vigorously as 
 possible in order to get a good place, and not mind a 
 little squeezing it makes them look rosy. Nothing 
 on the face of the globe is so mortifying, as to be obli 
 ged to take up with an out of the way seat at a supper 
 table, or the lower end of the room in a cotillion. We 
 have known ladies go into a decline in consequence. 
 
 10. Young ladies should always say they are enga 
 ged, when asked to dance by a person they dont choose 
 to dance with. It is a pious fraud justified by the 
 emergency of the case. 
 
 11. In walking up and down the public drawing 
 room, it is always fashionable to keep up a bold front. 
 For this purpose it is advisable for five or six young 
 ladies to link arm in arm, and sweep the whole room. 
 If any body comes in the way, elbow them out without 
 ceremony, and laugh as loud as possible to show it is 
 all a joke. 
 
 12. Young ladies should be sure to laugh loud, and 
 talk loud in public, especially when they say an ill na- 
 tured thing about somebody within hearing, whom no 
 body knows. Such people have no business at the 
 springs. Epsom salts is good enough for them. If 
 they must have Congress water, let them go to Lynch 
 & Clark's, and not bore good society. 
 
 13. Young ladies should dress as often, and in as 
 
231 
 
 great a variety as possible. Besides passing away thfc 
 time, it sometimes achieves wonders. We have known 
 an obstinate undecided, undetermined hesitating, vacil 
 lating, prevaricating beau, who had resisted all the 
 colours of the rainbow, at last brought to the ground, 
 by a philosophical, analytical, and antithetical disposi 
 tion of pink, yellow, green, white, black, blue, fawn, 
 Maria Louise, bronze, and brass coloured silks and 
 ribbons, that proved irresistible. As some fish are 
 only to be caught by particular baits, at certain seasons, 
 so some men are caught by particular colours. We 
 ourselves could never resist a flesh coloured gauze, 
 and silken hose of the same. Young ladies had much 
 better study the nature of these affinities, instead oi' 
 going to hear lectures on political economy, chymistry ? 
 and anatomical dissfictions. The only part of a mau 
 they have any concern with is the heart. Women are 
 like bees because . We will give a ball and sup 
 per to the fortunate person, who shall solve this conun 
 drum, Why are women like bees ? 
 
 14. Next to dress, which is, or ought to be, the first 
 object of a lady's care, is the management of the per 
 son, for which the following directions will be found 
 highly useful. The first requisite to be graceful, is a 
 total departure from nature. What is the use of being 
 fought, if ladies do not exhibit the effects of teaching, 
 the whole object of which is to counteract the natural 
 vulgarity of nature 1 If nature gave them a grave or 
 pensive disposition, they must try and counteract it by 
 perpetual laughing. If she bestowed on them a playful, 
 animated mind, the whole object of attention should be 
 
232 
 
 to appear sad, sorrowful, sentimental and sleepy. If 
 she gave them a light, airy, elastic step, all they have 
 to do is to creep softly along, with downcast look, and 
 silent, solemn inactivity. If on the contrary, she 
 vouchsafed them an outline like a dumpling, it is proper 
 and indispensable to dance, bounce, skip and curvet, 
 like an India rubber ball. In short, nature must be 
 counteracted in some way or other, and there is an end 
 of it. Without a little caprice, a little affectation, and 
 a great deal of fashionable nonsense, a young lady is 
 intolerable. Talk of nature, and sincerity, and single 
 ness of heart ! A natural woman is no more fit for use 
 than a raw calf's head. She must be worked up with 
 the spices of fashion, or a refined man who has travelled, 
 will pvnnnnnr.e her entirely destitute of tournure. 
 
 15. The first requisite for a young lady, in walking, 
 riding, sitting, lolling, or dancing, is that she should do 
 it according to the fashion, whether it is set by an opera 
 dancer, or a person of high ton, who wishes to disguise 
 a deformity, and who does as she does, because she 
 cant do any better. If the said opera dancer, from the 
 mere force of habit, strides along, and lifts up her feet, 
 half a yard high, the young ladies must do the same. If 
 the aforesaid person of rank, walks with a wriggle, a 
 jerk, a stoop, or a lean on one side, or fiddles along with 
 the elbows and hips, without the aid of any other exer 
 tions ; if she does all this, because from some physical 
 incapacity she cannot do otherwise, still the young 
 ladies, by the laws of fashion, must do the same, and 
 creep, or wriggle, or jerk, or stoop, or walk cramp- 
 sided, or fiddle along with elbows and hips, as the law 
 
233 
 
 directs. Whatever is fashionable is graceful, beautiful, 
 proper and genteel, let the grumbling and vulgar mob, 
 who affect to follow nature, say what they will. In 
 short, it is now a well established axiom, that the whole 
 tenour of a fashionable education ought to be to defeat 
 the vulgar propensities implanted by nature. To direct, 
 controul, or what is still more ridiculous, to facilitate 
 the expansion of natural beauties, qualities, or propensi 
 ties, is, to use a fashionable phrase just come out at 
 Aimack's, " All in my eye, and Betty Martin." It is 
 only the poets who make such a rout' about following 
 nature, and the sincerity of their declarations may be 
 tested by the antithesis of their precepts, and their ex 
 ample. Some one of these ranting, rhyming cavillers, 
 who is ashamed of his name, sometime ago bored the 
 English world with the following philippic against this 
 imitative quality, which is the distinguishing charac 
 teristic of people of fashion, who on reading it, will no 
 doubt smile at the vulgar indignation of this Parvenue. 
 It is extracted with an alteration or two, to suit present 
 purposes, from an obscure poem, not long since publish 
 ed in London, the name of which, if we remember right* 
 was " May Fair." 
 
 "The thinking mind, this miracle must strike, 
 Scanning the moderns, that they're all alike : 
 True character is merged, for every soul, 
 Runs the same gauntlet, gains the selfsame goal. 
 In the world's jostle is the die worn out, 
 As from the coins we carry long about. 
 They're all the same without, the same withjj^ 
 Alike in dullness, and alike in sin j 
 20* 
 
 
234 
 
 All in one way they sit, ride, walk or stand, 
 
 Speak with one voice, nay, learn to write one hanti 
 
 Drest to the mode, our very nurseries show, 
 
 The baby lady, and the infant beau : 
 
 In rival lustre, maid and mistress meet, 
 
 And elbow one another in the Btreet. 
 
 As much like nature are the things we see, 
 
 As yon dipt, dusty pole is like a tree, 
 
 Green, waving, glorious, beautiful and free.'- 
 
 Did ever mortal read such low stuff! It is almost as 
 vulgar and old fashioned as Juvenal. But this is not 
 the worst. Hear the villain ! 
 
 " Our women too, no varied medium keep, 
 Like storms they riot, or like ditches sleep. 
 Pale, cold, and languid, wrapt in sullen state, 
 Or flush'd, warm, eager, full of learned prate, 
 Blue bottle flies, they buzz about and shine, 
 Cramming ten learned words in one long line. 
 These haunt the galleries of the learn'd antique, 
 (Who cares for naked figures they' re but Greek !) 
 And knowing man's no longer to be found, 
 Except in monkey shape, above the ground, 
 Tend anatomic lectures, there to see 
 Not what he is, but what he ought to be ; 
 Display their forms in the gymnastic class, 
 And get ethereally drunk with gas." 
 
 We have given these extracts to show our fashiona 
 ble readers and we despise all others what human 
 nature in the form of a poet is capable of, as well as to 
 laugh at his presumption in finding fault with what con 
 stitutes the charm of fashion its uniformity. By its 
 *nagic influence on dress and demeanour, it reduces 
 
235 
 
 grace and deformity, beauty and ugliness, youth and 
 age, activity and decrepitude, talent and stupidity, to a 
 perfect level. All are alikeall look alike, act alike, 
 talk alike, feel alike, think alike, and constitute as it 
 were one universal identity. " Can any mortal mix 
 ture of earth's mould" compare with a fashionable lady 
 of the winter of 1828, except her fashionable cook 01 
 chambermaid? Were not the latter, like Achilles, a 
 little vulnerable about the heel and ancle, this beautiful 
 symmetry of the whole sex would be complete. But 
 perfection is not to be looked for in this world not 
 even in the world of fashion. 
 
 Next to the arts of dress and behaviour, the most 
 important thing to be studied, is the system of gradu 
 ating the thermometer of attention to the claims of the 
 beaux. This is a matter of no small difficulty, and re 
 quires great tact, as the reviewers say. The following 
 general rules will be found useful, but long experience, 
 or frequent parental admonition, can alone perfect this 
 indispensable accomplishment. 
 
 First. Always proportion your attentions to the 
 claims of the gentleman who aspire to them. These 
 claims are of great variety. One man may claim con 
 sideration from the tying of his neckcloth another 
 from the cut of his coat another from his accomplish 
 ments, such as fiddling, dancing, talking English 
 French, or French English, or writing sleepy verses. 
 Others come forward with the appendage of a gig and 
 tandem, or a curricle* others with that of a full purse, 
 or great expectatitms^ancl others preposterously ex- 
 
236 
 
 pect consideration from the qualities of their heads and 
 hearts. These last deserve no mercy. The following 
 list is carefully graduated according to the latest disco 
 veries in the great science of bon ton. 
 
 Number one of the class of beaux, entitled to the 
 first consideration, consists of the thrice blessed who 
 are accommodated with full purses. These constitute 
 the first born of Egypt ; they are the favourite offspring 
 of fortune, and carry with them a substitute for wit, 
 valour, and virtue in their pockets. They are entitled 
 to the first fruits of every prudent, well educated young 
 lady. Yet it is not actually incumbent on a young lady 
 to fall in love with them at first sight. If the fortunate* 
 gentleman is worth fifty thousand, he is only entitled to 
 a gentle preference, a look and a smile occasionally. 
 If he is the meritorious possessor of a hundred thou 
 sand, the preference must be demonstrated by double 
 the number of looks and smiles. Two hundred thou 
 sand merit a downright penchant ; three hundred thou 
 sand justifies the lady in being very unhappy ; and half 
 a million secures her pardon if she dies for love. N. B. 
 If it comes to this extremity, the mother is justified in 
 charging the half a million with practising upon the 
 young lady's affections, and insisting on his marrying 
 her. 
 
 Secondly. The next class of pretenders are, the 
 gentlemen who gain young ladies as the champions at 
 the Olympic games gained their triumphs, by virtue of 
 their horses. A single horse goes for little or nothing ; 
 a gig and mounted servant is something, and the owner 
 somebody; a tandem and servant makes a distingue ; 
 
237 
 
 and the fortunate proprietor of a phaeton and four may 
 fairly enter the list with ahy man, except the half a mil 
 lion, or the second cousin of an English lord. 
 
 Thirdly. There is a class of beaux, who justly 
 claim considerable consideration on the score of their 
 costume. Dress being that which above all things dis 
 tinguishes the man from the brute, it follows of course 
 that the best dressed man is the first man in the crea 
 tion. Accordingly, the more accurate modern philo 
 sophers have reversed the definition of man given by 
 Plato, to wit : " A two legged animal without fea 
 thers" and substituted one much more applicable to 
 his present state. They define him as, " An animal 
 without legs, but with abundance of pantaloons 
 stitched, pressed, corsetted composition regent's 
 clothmaker ScofieW, Phelps, & Howard," Well 
 dressed young men are therefore entitled to great con 
 sideration, and if not of the first rank, assuredly claim 
 to come in immediately after the cavaliers and theii 
 horses, provided always they can show a receipt from 
 the tailor. 
 
 Fourthly. Prize poets, players on the piano, anni 
 versary orators, and all that sort of thing, belong to the 
 class of minor distingues, and are entitled to the no 
 tice of a fashionable young lady ; for all fashionable 
 young ladies ought to wear at least one blue stocking. 
 They will answer, however, only for beaux in public 
 and en passant, unless they possess the sine qua non of 
 a husband. Never fall in love with them as you value 
 a coach, a Cashmere shawl, a soiree, or a three story 
 house, with folding doors and marble mantel pieces. 
 
238 
 
 If indeed the poet could build four story fire proof 
 brick stores, or brokers' offices in Wall Street, as 
 easily as he doe? castles in the air, or the chymist 
 transmute lead into gold or the piano hero erect 
 walls by the magic of fingers, like Orpheus or the an 
 niversary orator coin bank notes as he does words 
 then indeed they might be worthy the homage of the 
 ladies' eyes and hearts ; but as it is, they will do well 
 enough to swell her train. 
 
 Fifthly. But really it is hardly worth while to no 
 tice such a miserable, obscure set of beings, who seem 
 born for nothing else but to be useful. We mean the 
 men who claim the attention of young ladies, on the 
 score of merit, and an amiable disposition ; who are 
 not worth a plum who drive no horses derive then 
 being from no tailors and who can neither write prize 
 poetry, turn lead into gold, fiddle sonatos, nor spout an 
 niversaries. We should like to know what such peo 
 ple were made for. Fortunately, however, there are 
 now but few such nonentities ; for it is not the fault of 
 dictionaries, catechisms, and compendiums, if every 
 man, woman, and child cannot know or do something 
 to make them distingue. If they can do nothing else, 
 they can write poetry, that shall be excellent rhyme, 
 however it may lack reason. Of the few nonentities, 
 of whom the best that can be said of them is, that they 
 aspire to be respectable a word not to be found in the 
 catalogue of the distingue still fewer are to be met at 
 the springs, where neither the air or waters agree with 
 them. They will much more likely be found attending 
 to their paltry business, storing their minds with the 
 
239 
 
 lumber of antiquated knowledge, or enjoying the sleep) 
 sodorific^ of a domestic fire side from which good 
 Lord deliver us ! If by any rare chance, one of these 
 singular monsters should appear at the springs, and 
 peradventure make a demonstration 'towards a young 
 lady aspiring to tournure, we would advise her to 
 laugh him to death at once. Such men form a sort of 
 icy atmosphere about a woman, in which dandies die, 
 and dandizettes feel irresistibly impelled into the vulgar 
 ranks of nature and propriety. 
 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON THE BEHAVIOUR PROPER FOR MARRIED LADIES AT 
 THE SPRINGS. 
 
 1. A well bred wife should never take her husband 
 to the springs unless she is afraid to leave him behind. 
 If he is a stupid, plodding blockhead, he had better stay 
 at home to make money while his wife is spending it. 
 But if on the contrary, he is a little gay, gallant and 
 frisky, she had better bring him with her, that she may 
 have him under her eye, and justify her own little flirta 
 tions by his example. 
 
 2. In case they come together to the springs, they 
 should never be seen together while there, as it is con 
 sidered indecent. 
 
 3. Married women should always single out old 
 
 I 
 
240 
 
 bachelors, whose whole business is to attend upon pretty 
 women as moth fly about candles, not to light a flame, 
 but to be consumed in one. Or in default of these, 
 they should select young dandies, who lack a little 
 fashionable impudence, if such can be found; or in the 
 last resort, the husbands of other ladies, who devote all 
 their attention, as in duty bound, to the wives of other 
 men. A married woman detected walking arm in arm 
 with her own lawfully begotten husband, might better 
 commit & faux pas at once her reputation is irretrieva 
 bly gone. 
 
 4. Never take children with you to the springs. 
 Leave them to the care of old nurse, at home, under the 
 superintendence of Providence. They are perfect 
 bores ; and besides, even the most gallant Lothario, 
 will hardly have a face to make love to a woman sur 
 rounded by her children. 
 
 5. Married ladies should never sit next their hus 
 bands at meals, as it might give rise to a suspicion that 
 they could not get any body else to sit by them. Be 
 sides, the presence of a husband is sometimes a disa 
 greeable restraint on the bachelor beaux, and spoils 
 many a gallant speech. 
 
 6. Married ladies with grown up daughters, had bet 
 ter pass for their step mothers, if possible ; but if this is 
 not possible, they should take every opportunity to ob 
 serve, that they were very young when they married. 
 
 7. Married ladies should forget they are married as 
 much as possible. The idea of a husband coming 
 across the mind is apt to occasion low spirits, and put 
 an awkward restraint on the behaviour. It is said of 
 

 241 
 
 the planters of Louisiana, that if you only mention the 
 word cocoa in their hearing, they immediately grow 
 melancholy, and lose their spirits. In like manner we 
 have often seen the most vivacious gambols of a wife, 
 checked and spoiled by merely pronouncing the name 
 of her husband in a whisper. 
 
 8. Neither husband or wife ought to say an ill na- 
 tured thing to each other in public, without prefacing it 
 with my dear Mr. and my dear Mrs. In private it is 
 no matter. 
 
 9. They should be particularly careful not to throw 
 any thing at each other's heads at meal times ; it is al 
 most as bad as to be seen kissing in public. This 
 accident however cannot occur, if due regard be paid 
 to the first and second rules. 
 
 10. The first object of a married lady at the springs, 
 is or ought to be, to be talked about. Whether it be 
 for any thing commendable or praiseworthy, is a matter 
 of not the least consequence. This sine qua non, may 
 be attained in various ways. By eccentricity in be 
 haviour or dress ; by making a fool of herself, in at 
 tempting to pass for a young woman ; or by drinking 
 such enormous quantities of the water, that people per 
 plex themselves to death in knowing what becomes of 
 it all. The best and most infallible mode, however, of 
 attaining to the greatest of all possible pleasures, that of 
 notoriety, is to encourage the attentions of some gay 
 coxcomb, till all the world begins to talk about nothing 
 else. This is the true eclat, without which it is not 
 worth while to take the trouble of breathing in this 
 world. 
 
 21 
 
.242 
 
 11. Mothers should never take grown up daughters 
 to the springs ; it makes them look so old. 
 
 12. There is however one exception to the foregoing 
 rule : namely, when they wish to settle a young lady in 
 life. In that case, they ought to be careful of seven 
 things, to wit, 
 
 To make them leave their hearts at home, lest they 
 should give them away to young squires, who cant pay 
 value received. 
 
 To make them leave their feminine timidity, miscall 
 ed modesty, at home ; otherwise, they may not have 
 the face to make what is called at Almack's, " a dead 
 set" at the proper object. 
 
 To be sure to tell every body in the most solemn 
 manner, not more than twenty times a day, how fond 
 Miss Angelina, or Miss Adeline is of retirement, and 
 how backward in showing off her accomplishments in 
 public. 
 
 To ascertain the weight of a young gentleman's 
 purse, or at least that of his papa, before the young 
 lady's heart is in danger. This is sometimes rather a 
 difficult matter, as it is not uncommon now a days, for 
 gentlemen to make a vast figure with other people's 
 money. A copy of the will of the old gentleman is the 
 best security for a matrimonial speculation. But even 
 this is not infallible, for we ourselves once had a large 
 landed estate left us, by an old bachelor who had feasted 
 in our house for twenty years, which turned out to be 
 long to another person. 
 
 Never to lose an opportunity while condescending to 
 accept the arm of the selected Adonis, in a promenade 
 
243 
 
 around the drawing or dancing room, to repeat all the 
 flattering things the young lady has not said in his praise. 
 Where one man, aye, or one woman, is taken by the 
 heart, a thousand are taken by this bait. We speak 
 from long experience, having never yet been able to 
 resist any woman who admired us, even though she 
 might not have been handsome enough to make a song 
 about. 
 
 If the mother of a young lady at the springs, has a 
 hard character to deal with in her daughter, that is, one 
 who cherishes certain pernicious and disobedient no 
 tions about loving, respecting, or most of all, obeying a 
 husband, and prefers love to money, we know of no 
 more infallible way of curing this romantic folly, than to 
 point out to her notice, as many couple as fall under 
 observation, as possible, who have made love matches. 
 Ten to one but the contemplation of these will satisfy 
 the young lady, that money wears better than love. 
 
 Lastly, to consider merit, talents, amiability, and an 
 attractive person and manner, as dust in the balance, 
 worse than a woollen stocking -on a handsome leg, 
 when put in comparison with money. Money not only 
 makes the mare go, but sets the horses to the coach, 
 and what is the climax of human bliss, secures the first 
 choice from a consignment of cast off bonnets of a 
 female opera dancer, to the happy lady who dont mind 
 how much she pays for it. 
 
244 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 % 
 
 OF MARRIED MEN, AND THE BEHAVIOUR PROPER FOR 
 THEM AT THE SPRINGS. 
 
 1. A married gentleman must never take an ugly wife 
 to the springs, lest he should have to wait upon her 
 himself; nor a handsome one, lest she should be too 
 much waited on by others. But if, as we are informed 
 is sometimes the case, the lady's health absolutely re 
 quires it, and there is no help, the laws of fashion pe 
 remptorily prescribe to the husband a total oblivion of 
 his wife, in all public places, where she must be left to 
 the exercise of her own powers of attraction upon 
 other men, for obtaining the attentions necessary to her 
 comfort and happiness. If she is handsome, she will 
 be sure of these ; if she is easy of access, and free 
 from all vulgar airs of prudery, she will stand a fair 
 chance of coming in for a due share ; if she is neither 
 one or the other, the Lord have mercy upon her she 
 must fain take up with some forlorn bachelor in his 
 grand climacteric. 
 
 2. Married gentlemen would do well to keep their 
 marriage secret as long as possible, were it not for the 
 great advantage it gives them in flirting with the young 
 ladies. 
 
 3. Married gentlemen should be particular in re 
 serving all their good humour and spirits for public 
 use. As to their private deportment, that is of no con 
 sequence, provided they have a discreet wife, who is 
 
245 
 
 content to be a little miserable, provided every body 
 thinks her the happiest woman in the world. 
 
 4. Married men should never forget, that it is better 
 to be blamed for neglect and unkindness to their wives, 
 than to be quizzed for their attentions to them. It is 
 better to rob a church, than to be laughed at by people 
 of fashion. We have known several persons of great 
 sensibility who actually died of it. 
 
 1 5. It has been asserted by certain cynics and block 
 heads, that old married men who live in the country, and 
 who have young, gay and handsome wives, had better 
 take them to Niagara, Montreal, Quebec, or home, than 
 to the springs. Ballston and Saratoga, say they, are 
 great places for scandal, and it is not absolutely out of 
 nature, for a lady to gain her health and lose her repu 
 tation, at one or other of these places. We hold these 
 cautions in utter and prodigious contempt, maintaining 
 in the very teeth of such heteroxy in fashion, that an 
 elderly gentleman, with a young, gay, frisky, handsome 
 wife, cannot do half so well as to take her every sea 
 son to the springs. There she will be in her proper 
 sphere admired, followed, and caressed : and there, 
 if there be any virtue in the waters, she wfll be in a 
 good humour with her husband, if it be only to repay 
 him for the admiration of other men. There, if any 
 where in the world, he will enjoy domestic felicity, and 
 taste of that peace which surpasseth the understanding 
 of all vulgar husbands. He ought to go as early, and 
 stay as long, as there is a sufficiency of admirers to 
 keep his wife in good humour, for ten to one and we 
 confess it. such is the insufficiency of all sublunary 
 21* 
 
246 
 
 means of happiness that when they return to the quiel 
 enjoyment of domestic bliss, in their solitary home, the 
 recollection of past happiness may poison the enjoy 
 ment of the present, and smiles be turned to desperate 
 frowns. For this, however, there is a sovereign reme 
 dy a journey to town, and lodgings at a fashiona 
 ble hotel. 
 
 6. If their wives cannot be happy at home, husbands 
 are bound to find them amusement abroad, in like man 
 ner as they are bound to find them attendants, when 
 they dont choose to act the part of cavalier servente 
 themselves. 
 
 7. As it is a received and inflexible law of the beau 
 monde here, to imitate all foreign fashions, as a matter 
 of course, we suggest to the fashionables who consti 
 tute good society, to mince matters no longer, and not 
 stand shilly-shally, like a horse with his fore feet in the 
 water, and his hind feet out. We would have them do 
 exactly as the most elegant and fashionable models of 
 Europe do marry for money or rank ; for as to love, 
 that can be got any where. Secondly. To consider 
 marriage not as tying them up, but letting them loose. 
 Thirdly. To purchase their matrimonial freedom, by 
 mutually conceding to each other the right of self go 
 vernment in all matters whatever, except the enormity 
 ef being out of fashion. It is utterly inconceivable by 
 those who have not had the advantage of a European 
 tour, and seeing people of the highest rank in their car 
 riages or at the theatres it is utterly inconceivable how 
 this mutual freedom conduces to the happiness of do 
 mestic life. But as example is said to be better than 
 
247 
 
 precept, we will record an instance that came under our 
 observation, for the benefit of our fashionable readers, 
 craving only leave to omit the real names. 
 
 Honorious and Honoria married for love : it was the 
 fashion then or it was the fashion for people to per 
 suade themselves they did so. The husband was a 
 first rate man of fashion ; for he dined well, drove a 
 handsome carriage, gave parties, and lived in a three 
 story house, with folding doors and marble mantel 
 pieces ; and the wife was indubitably a fashionable 
 lady ; for she had a fashionable milliner, a fashionable 
 air, a fashionable coach, a fashionable acquaintance, 
 could not exist without silver forks, and her family was 
 of the first respectability for it could show more bank 
 rupts than any in town. According to the most ap 
 proved fashion, Honorious gave punch, and Honoria 
 saw company, in the first style, with eight grooms and 
 groomesses of the first fashion ; one of the former was 
 a foreigner of great distinction for he could play the 
 piano divinely, and was third cousin to a principal te 
 nant of an English prince of the blood no, we 
 mistake to an English duke the princes of the 
 blood in England having no land to plague themselves 
 with. 
 
 After seeing company, they moved into Broadway, 
 or Hudson Square it matters not into a three story 
 house, with folding doors and marble mantel pieces, 
 and for a time were as happy as the day is long, for the 
 whole town visited them, and admired the folding doors, 
 the marble mantel pieces, the carpets, and the damask 
 
248 
 
 curtains of eight different colours. But alas! the 
 chase of happiness is nothing but the little boy running 
 after the rainbow, and falling into a ditch, unless people 
 set out at first in the right path. The twenty-ninth eve 
 ning after marriage, Honorious was detected in a yawn 
 at the fireside for Honoria had insisted, before mar 
 riage, that they should give up the world, and live to 
 themselves in the pure enjoyment of quiet domestic 
 bliss. A yawn per se is nothing ; but with certain com 
 binations and associations, it becomes extremely formi 
 dable. Honoria was unfortunately sufficiently awake 
 to see it, and it went nigh to break her heart. But as 
 she was too proud to show her real feelings, she only 
 exclaimed a little sharply : " Lord, my dear I wish 
 you would leave off that practice of yawning, and show 
 ing off those great black teeth in the back part of your 
 head." Honorious had well nigh jumped out of his 
 skin at this speech, so wanting in tournure, and had 
 some trouble to answer mildly, that " Really he was so 
 stultified with want of exercise and variety, that he was 
 grown quite stupid." " You had better say at once you 
 are tired of my company," cried Honoria, bursting into 
 tears. Honorious assured her that he was not tired of 
 her company that he never was tired of her company 
 that he never would be tired of her company and 
 here he was stopt by another yawn, that was absolutely 
 irresistible. 
 
 That night neither party slept a wink, for the last 
 yawn was followed by a keen encounter of wits, that 
 ended in what might be called a matrimonial segrega 
 tion. However, people must be very bad tempered, if 
 
249 
 
 they can remain long on ill terms with their nearest con 
 nexions. A reconciliation soon took place, and Hono- 
 yius, to prove that he never was, and never would be 
 tired of his wife's company, staid at home all day, and 
 all the evening, although his health suffered materially 
 in the direful struggles to repress those violent impulses 
 towards yawning which sometimes beset the animal 
 man when he has nothing to say and nothing to think 
 about. Too much fat puts out the candle, and too much 
 of a good thing is good for nothing. Tedium is the 
 mother of ill nature, and testiness the offspring of ennui. 
 Honorius did not go out, and consequently brought 
 home no news, no topics of every day chit-chat no 
 food for raillery, laughter, or ridicule, and thereupon 
 it actually came to pass, that our young and faithful 
 couple, actually sometimes came to want topics of con 
 versation, and took to disputing and contradicting, 
 merely to pass the time. 
 
 Pen a pen by those imperceptible snails paces, 
 which so often lead from passion to indifference, from 
 indifference to dislike, from dislike to antipathy, the 
 good Honorius, who was a well dispositioned man, and 
 the amiable Honoria, who was really a reasonable 
 woman, as times go, came at length, to quarrel once, 
 twice, yea thrice a day ; nay oftener, for being always 
 at home, they were continually coming in contact, and 
 when people have no other topics, they generally fall 
 out with each other. It is indeed quite indispensable 
 that we should have cerlain out door acquaintance to 
 criticise, for the security of peace within doors. This 
 is considered by some sensible people, as the principal 
 
250 
 
 use of intimate friends. In short, Honorius found fault 
 with Honoria, and Honoria found fault with Honorius 
 even when they were both as free from blame as their 
 little infants. They fell out about the children they 
 fell out about the servants, the inside of the house and 
 the outside of the house, the stars, the planets, the 
 twelve signs, and the weather, which never suited both 
 at a time. In short, they fell out about every thing, 
 and they fell out about nothing. 
 
 At length, after a severe brush, Honorius in a fit of 
 desperation, one day took his hat and actually sallied 
 forth into the places where merchants most do congre 
 gate. There he heard the news of the day, the ups and 
 downs of life, the whys and the wherefores, the fires and 
 the murders, the marriages and the divorces, and all the 
 little items of the every day drama of the busy world. 
 He did not come home till dinner time, and Honoria 
 received him with the like kindness, as if he were come 
 off a long journey. They sat down to dinner, and she 
 asked him the news. He told her all he had heard, and 
 the dinner passed off without a single quarrel, although 
 we are obliged to confess Honoria once threw the 
 gauntlet, by finding fault with his spilling the gravy on 
 a clean damask table cloth. 
 
 In the evening, however, there was another desperate 
 duet of yawning in andante, succeeded by a quick mea 
 sure of altercation. Honorius took his hat once again, 
 and went to the play, whence he did not return till past 
 twelve ; for what with horses, dogs, and devils, men made 
 by nature's journeymen, spectacles, singing, dancing, 
 
251 
 
 tumbling, and the like, people now certainly get the 
 worth of their money at the play, in quantity if not in 
 quality. Poor Honoria was so alarmed at his long ab 
 sence, that she thought he had drowned himself in a fit 
 of desperation, and was so glad to see him that she for 
 got to ask him where he had been, till the next morning 
 at breakfast. He told all about the horses, the dancers, 
 the devils, the flying Dutchman, the flying Indians, the 
 glums and the gawrs, and the machinery and the 
 pasteboard, till she laughed herself almost to death, and 
 accused him of having been at a puppet show. The 
 breakfast went off charmingly, although Honorius broke 
 a China tea cup belonging to a set that cost five hun 
 dred dollars, and Honoria put twice as much milk in 
 his coffee as he liked. 
 
 By degrees this habit of going out increased upon 
 Honorius to such a degree, that he at length got to the 
 other extreme, and Honoria was often left day after day, 
 evening after evening, in loneliness and solitude ; for her 
 children were yet too young for companions. She quar 
 relled a little with Honorius about it, who coolly answer 
 ed, " My dear, why dont you go out too ? nobody hinders 
 you." " Where shall I go we have completely got 
 out of society by visiting nobody." "0 give a rout ; 
 I warrant you'll have company enough, every body will 
 be your acquaintance." It was decided ; a rout was 
 given and every body came. This of course entitled 
 them to invitations from every body, and instead of 
 spending every day and evening at home, they now 
 spent every day and evening abroad. This again pro 
 duced that desperate monotony, which whether of com- 
 
-252 
 
 pany or solitude, excitement or stupidity, is equally 
 tedious and unsatisfactory in the end. They begun to 
 dispute their way regularly to and from parties, and 
 matters became worse than ever. Honorius was too 
 polite to certain ladies whom Honoria particularly 
 hated ; and Honoria was too free with certain gentle 
 men Honorius particularly despised. 
 
 " Alas !" said Honorius one day to himself, " is there 
 no peace to be found in this world !" And Honoria 
 repeated the same exclamation to herself just at the 
 same moment. A sudden ray of light broke in upon 
 Honorius, as if in response to this pathetic appeal. If 
 we cannot be happy together, is it not possible to be 
 happy asunder? Honorius went out by himself the 
 very next night, the night after, and the night after that. 
 Honoria could hold out no longer, and reproached him 
 bitterly. " My dear," answered Honorius, mildly, 
 '" why cant you go out by yourself too ?" The carriage 
 was ordered on the instant by Honoria, who went to 
 one party, and Honorius went in a hack to another. 
 They both passed such a delightful, evening, that they 
 repeated the experiment again, and again. Each suc 
 ceeded better and better, and the arrangement has sub 
 sisted ever since. Honorius is out all day, and when 
 he happens to be at home at night, Honoria is out at a 
 party, or to the play. In the winter they are never seen 
 together, except by accident, at a public place, when 
 you would take them for perfect strangers. In the sum 
 mer she goes to the springs, he to Long Branch ; the 
 children are left at home with the nurses, to preserve 
 peace and quiet in the family abroad. Honoria never 
 
253 
 
 gets up to breakfast with Honorius, and Honorius never 
 is at home to dine with Honoria. She is at a ball till 
 two in the morning ; he at the faro table all night. 
 They never meet they never quarrel. Honoria is the 
 delight of fashionable gentlemen; Honorius of fashion 
 able ladies, who all envy Honoria the possession of such 
 an agreeable, witty, polite husband. In short, they have 
 found the grand secret of preserving domestic peace and 
 tranquillity at home by never meeting there. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 <)F THE EXQUISITES, AND THE WHOLE DUTY OP MAN AT 
 THE SPRINGS. 
 
 Happy the man who is born with whiskers, for he 
 will not be under the necessity of buying a goodly pair, 
 without which it is impossible to live. As the May Fair 
 poet we have quoted heretofore with reprobation, most 
 insolently sings : 
 
 
 " All now wear beards, or buy the beards they wear ? 
 The human face divine is lost in hair. 
 While thus the mind so well the body suits, 
 How wise to steal the livery of brutes ! 
 You think a warrior shoves you from the wall - 
 1 Tis a meek creature, whom we prentice call, 
 Bewhisker'd like crusader, or grand Turk, 
 In quick step marching homeward with his work, 
 \ pair of breeches, or a flannel gown, 
 Looking the while as if he'd look you down 
 22 
 
254 
 
 Pray dont be frighten'd, he'd not hurt a fly, 
 His business in the world is but to lie." 
 
 RULE 1. Next to whiskers, dress is all important to 
 the success of a young gentleman, at all places, espe 
 cially at the springs. Not manners, but the tailor 
 makes the man in the present improved state of the 
 world, and nothing is more certain than that success in 
 life mainly depends on the cut of the coat, the exube 
 rance of the whiskers, and above all the tie of the 
 cravat. We know several young fellows, who have 
 carried off heiresses, solely by virtue of superior excel 
 lence in this last indispensable requisite. 
 
 2. Be sure you pay no attention to that musty old 
 saw, about cutting your coat according to your cloth, 
 except it be t- reverse the ignoble maxim by cutting 
 it directly the contrary. N". B. For the cut of your coat, 
 and for the most approved attitudes, see jjie figures in 
 the windows of the men mercers and me is milliners in 
 Broadway. 
 
 3. Never get any article of dress from a cheap tailoFj 
 for he will be sure to make you pay for it ; whereas a 
 real fashionable, expensive tailor, always charges his 
 good customers in advance, to pay for his bad ones : 
 for it would ruin him irretrievably, and frighten half his 
 customers to the uttermost ends of the town, were he to 
 be guilty of the ill manners of sueing one of them. He 
 must never do this till he is about leaving off business. 
 
 4. Never stop to inquire whether you want a new 
 coat, or whether you can pay for it. If the tailor trusts 
 you, good it is at his own risk, and if you dont pay 
 
255 
 
 him, somebody else must, after the manner hinted at in 
 the preceding rule. 
 
 5. If you happen to see a wretch coming down the 
 street, to whom you have been indebted three or four 
 years, you have only to stop short, consider a moment, 
 then turn suddenly around and trot off in a contrary 
 direction. People will take it for granted you have 
 forgot something. 
 
 6. Never pay any debts if you can help it, but debts 
 of honour : such as tavern bills, and generally all bills 
 for superfluities. By the law of nature, man has a 
 claim on society for the necessaries of life, and there 
 fore is not bound to pay for them. 
 
 7. Never be deterred from going to the springs by 
 any sordid motives of economy. All that is necessary 
 is to pay your way till you get there. Once there, you 
 have only to play at cards, pocket your winnings and 
 pay none of your losings, and it will go hard if you dont 
 create a fund for indispensable necessaries. Failing in 
 this, you have only to tell mine host, that you have been 
 disappointed in remittances, and are going to Albany or 
 New York to see about them. Never mind his blank 
 looks, he wont dare to arrest you, for fear of losing one 
 half of his lodgers, who would not fail to resent such an 
 unfashionable procedure, not knowing how soon their 
 turn might come, if such unheard of enormities were 
 tolerated in fashionable society. 
 
 8. Never pay any attention to the ladies, and they 
 will be sure to pay attention to you ; that is, if you have 
 plenty of whiskers, plenty of cravats, and know how to 
 tie them; plenty of coats, a curricle or gig and tandem, 
 
256 
 
 and look grim. N. B. Heiresses are excepted ; they 
 expect to be sought after. 
 
 9. It is needless to caution you to avoid the despe 
 rate imprudence of falling in love with a lady who is 
 poor in every thing except merit. Nobody commits 
 such a folly now a days, especially since the vast im 
 provement in taste, and the prodigious advances made 
 by the spirit of the age. Formerly, in the days of outer 
 darkness, " when Adam delv'd and Eve span," poor 
 people might marry without coming upon the parish. 
 But it would be the extreme climax of folly to do it 
 now, when it is impossible to fit out a wife of the least 
 pretensions for a walk in Broadway, under a sum, that 
 in those miserable days of delving and spinning, would 
 have purchased independence for life. Since the age 
 of paper money, brokering, speculating, .and breaking, 
 and ever since the great encouragement of " domestic 
 industry," women of decency, never spin any thing 
 but " street yarn," a fashionable article, which has all 
 the fashionable requisites to recommend it, being en 
 tirely useless. What would be the fate of an unfortu 
 nate youth, who is without a penny, and without the 
 means or arts to gain one, who should marry a fashion 
 able young lady, who possesses but one single art, that of 
 spending thousands 1 How would he get a three story 
 house with folding doors and marble mantel pieces ? 
 how would he obtain the means of purchasing hats at 
 fifty dollars pelisses at a hundred veils at twice as 
 much and shawls at ten times ? How would he be 
 able to keep a carriage, give parties, and drink Bing- 
 ham, or Nabob, or Billy Ludlow I Without these 
 
257 
 
 things what man or woman in their senses will marry ? 
 And then the children ! How are they to be furnished 
 with artificial curls, and necklaces, and bracelets, and ear 
 rings, and pink hats of immeasurable size, and pelisses, 
 and silken hose, and ruffles, and laces, and made to look 
 like Lilliputian ladies ? How are they to be taught the 
 art of arts, the art worth all the arts, the indispensable 
 art of spending money, unless there is money to spend? 
 We know of but one way, and that is by running in 
 debt, and getting white washed. This cant be done 
 above eight or ten times, without people beginning to 
 grow shy of trusting you for any sum that will make it 
 worth while to go into the limits. It is however hoped 
 that the wishes of the philanthropists will soon be reali 
 zed, by the passage of a law to do away with this inhu 
 man necessity, and that the time is not far distant when 
 the march of mind and the spirit of the age, will lead to 
 the consummation of all things, when people may in 
 dulge in all the luxuries of life without money, and run 
 in debt without the disagreeable alternative of paying, or 
 going into retirement. Then every body will be rich 
 then everybody can live in a three story house with folding 
 doors and marble mantel pieces, give parties, live luxu 
 riously, get the dyspepsia as well as messieurs the 
 brokers, run in debt without the necessity of running 
 away, get married, be happy, and dress their little girls 
 for a walk in Broadway as fine as a fiddle ! Until then, 
 however, we repeat our caution not to marry any body 
 that labours even under the suspicion of being poor, 
 the worst of all possible suspicions for a young lady ; 
 it is enough to ruin her reputation past all recovery. 
 22* 
 
'258 
 
 Until then, the young gentlemen must be content wit!? 
 looking all the horrors of bachelorism in the face ; and 
 the young ladies riot in the anticipations of single bless 
 edness, which melancholy as it may be, is better than 
 living in a house without folding doors and marble 
 mantel pieces, and giving no balls. While the old gen 
 tleman lives, he must work, and shave, and speculate, 
 and turn his pennies ten times a day, to keep the young 
 ladies in the costume becoming the march of mind and 
 the spirit of the age ; and when he fails, or dies, they 
 must trust to providence and the orphan societies. 
 There is but one remedy for all this, but it is ten times 
 worse than the disease economy. As it is, bachelors 
 will multiply prodigiously, marrying for love will go out 
 of fashion, and there will not be a sufficiency of apes in 
 all Africa, to supply the place of the dandies of this life, 
 in the life to come. 
 
 10. After singling out the lady who possesses the 
 sine qua non to wit, not less than a hundred thousand/" 
 it behooves the young gentleman to be particularly atten 
 tive to the mother if the young lady unfortunately 
 Has one at the springs. Daughters are all so dutiful f 
 that they never reject the recommendation of their pa 
 rents in cases of this kind, especially if they threaten to 
 disinherit them. He must be always on the alert ; dip 
 her water, offer his arm, sit next her at table, run 
 down all the rest of the married ladies, praise the 
 daughter for looking so like the mother, perfume his 
 whiskers, and take every opportunity of looking at the 
 young lady tenderly, playing with his watch chain, if he 
 has one, or in default, fiddling with his cravat, at the 
 
259 
 
 same time ; there is nothing like suiting the action te 
 the look. He must be pensive, abstracted, and dis 
 tracted ; affect solitude, and drink enormously we 
 mean of the waters. He must wander in the woods, 
 lose his appetite in public and make uSup in private, 
 bite his thumbs, chew his lips, knit his eye brows, and 
 grow as pale as he possibly can. Should all this fail, 
 if he can afford it, he must give a ball, or a collation, or 
 a party on the lake, and upset the boat, on purpose to 
 have an opportunity of saving the lady's life. But if even 
 all these fail, he must resort to the desperate expedient 
 of the hero who gave name to the famous rock, of 
 eternal memory, near Ballston, known, and ever to 
 be known, by the appellation of the LOVER'S ROCK* 
 The story is as follows, on the best possible authority. 
 A young gentle'man of good family, who could look 
 back at least two generations without tracing his pedi 
 gree to a cobbler, or a shaver we dont mean a barber 
 but whose fortune was in an inverse ratio to his -birth, 
 having the good luck to raise the wind by a timely hits 
 visited the springs in a gig and tandem. He had re 
 ceived the best education the country could afford; 
 that is, he had learned enough Greek, and Latin, and 
 natural philosophy, and mathematics, to forget it all in a 
 year after leaving college. He had learned a profes 
 sion which he did not practise, and he practised many 
 things which he did not learn from his profession. He 
 had a vast many wants without the means of supplying 
 them, and professed as lofty a contempt for all useful 
 occupations, as if he had been rich enough to pass for 
 a fool. He was always well dressed, well mounted 
 
260 
 
 and well received on the score of these recommenda 
 tions, added to that of his ancient descent ; for as we 
 said before, he could trace back to a great grandfather, 
 whom nobody knew any thing about, so nobody could 
 deny his having been a gentleman. Nothing is so 
 great a demonstration of ancient descent, as the utter 
 obscurity of the origin of a family. 
 
 Be this as it may, our hero was excessively fond of 
 style, good living, and gentlemanly indulgencies of all 
 sorts ; but his taste was cramped by the want of the 
 one thing needful. 'Tis true, he got credit sometimes ; 
 but his genius was consequently rebuked by frequent 
 dunnings of certain importunate people, who had the 
 impudence to want their money sometimes. If it were 
 not for this, living upon credit would be the happiest 
 of all possible modes of life, except that of a beggar, 
 which we consider surpassingly superlative. Beggars 
 are the true gentlemen commoners of the earth ; they 
 form the only privileged order, the real aristocracy of 
 the land they pay no taxes obey no laws they toil 
 not, neither do they spin they eat when they are not 
 hungry, and drink when they are not dry they neither 
 serve as jurymen, firemen, or militiamen nor do they 
 work on the highways they have neither country to 
 serve, or family to maintain they are not obliged to 
 wash their hands and faces, or comb their hair every 
 morning they fear nothing but the poor house love 
 nothing so well as lying, except drinking and eat what 
 they please in Lent : In short, as the Old Song says : 
 
 " Each city, each town, and every village, 
 Affords us either an alms or pillage ; 
 
261 
 
 And if the weather be cold and raw, 
 
 Then in the barn we tumble in straw ; 
 
 If warm and fair, by yea-cock and nay-cock, 
 
 The fields will afford us a hedge or a hay-cock 
 
 A hay-cock a hay-cock and hay-cck, &c." 
 
 Truly it is a noble vocation ; and nothing can afford a 
 clearer proof of the march of mind and the improved 
 spirit of the age, than the multiplication and daily in 
 crease of this wise commonwealth of beggars, who 
 have the good sense to know the difference between 
 living by the sweat of their own brows, and that of 
 other people. Next to the wisdom of begging, is that 
 of borrowing or, as the cant phrase is, living upon 
 tick. 
 
 The outward man of our hero was well to look at, 
 especially as It was always clothed in the habiliments of 
 fashion. He was tall, straight, stiff, and stately ; his 
 head resembjed the classical model of a mopstick ; and 
 his whiskers would have delighted the good Lady Baus- 
 siere. The ladies approved of him ; and if he had only 
 been able to achieve a three story house in Hudson 
 Square or Broadway, with mahogany folding doors and 
 marble mantel pieces, together with certain accompani 
 ments of mirrors, sofas, pier tables, carpets. &c. it was 
 the general opinion, that he might have carried a first 
 rate belle. But alas ! without these, what is man ? 
 Our hero felt this at every step, and bis spirit rose man 
 fully against the injustice of the world. At one time, 
 he had actually resolved to set down to his profession, 
 and by persevering attention, amass a fortune thai 
 would supply the place of all the cardinal virtues. But 
 
alas ! the seductions of Broadway, and the soirees, and 
 the sweet pretty belles, with their big bonnets and bish 
 ops there was no resisting them ; and our hero aban 
 doned his profession in despair. Finding he could not 
 resist the allurements of pleasure, he resolved within 
 himself to kill two birds with one stone as it were 
 that is, to join profit and pleasure and while he was 
 sporting the butterfly in Broadway, to have an eye to 
 securing .the main chance a rich wife at the same 
 time. 
 
 In pursuance of this gallant resolution, he made de 
 monstrations towards every real or reputed heiress that 
 fell in his way. Every Jack has his Gill if one wont, 
 another will what's one man's meat, is another man's 
 poison there is no accounting for tastes and he who 
 never gets tired will come to the end of his journey at 
 last quoth our hero, and continued to persevere in the 
 midst of eternal disappointments. He might have suc 
 ceeded in some instances, but for the eternal vigilance 
 of the mamas, who justly thought, that having brought up 
 their daughters to nothing but spending money, the least 
 they could do was to provide them with rich husbands. 
 Either the pursuit itself, or the frequent failures of out 
 hero in running down his game, began to lower him in 
 the estimation of the world that is, the little world in 
 which he flourished. Success only can sanctify any 
 undertaking ; and a successful highwayman, or pros 
 perous rogue, is often more admired than an unlucky 
 dog who has nothing but his blundering honesty to recom 
 mend him. Besides, there is, we know not for what 
 reason, a prejudice against gentlemen who pursue for- 
 
263 
 
 tune in the shape of a young lady of a hundred thou 
 sand charms, we mean dollars. Men labour their 
 fortunes in various ways ; some by handicraft trades 
 some by shaving beards, and some by shaving notes 
 some by long voyages by sea, and others by long peri 
 lous journeys by land. They spend the best part of 
 their lives in these pursuits, and at last, when worn with 
 care, hardships, and anxieties, they sit down in their.old 
 age, to nourish their infirmities and pamper their appe 
 tites with luxuries, that carry death in their train. Now 
 we would ask, is it not better to carry fortune by a coup 
 de main, and achieve an heiress off-hand, than to chase 
 her all our lives, and only be in at our own death, in 
 stead of the death of our game? The prejudice 
 against fortune hunters, as they are called, is therefore 
 unjust; and we advise all young fellows of spirit to 
 hunt away bravely, rather than drudge through the des 
 perate, long, lingering avenues of a profession. 
 
 Be this as it may, our hero began to be held rather 
 cheap by the young ladies, who used to compare notes, 
 and find out that he had made the same demonstrations 
 towards some score or two of them. It is observed by 
 deep philosophers, that the last thing a man or woman 
 will pardon in others, is the fault of which they are 
 most guilty themselves. All these pretty belle-butter 
 flies had flirted with divers young men, and intended to 
 do it again ; but they were exceedingly indignant at our 
 hero, and turned their backs no, their bishops to him 
 on all public occasions. Some ignoble spirits would 
 have turned, in grovelling despair, to a profession, and 
 quit forever the pursuit of these fatal beauties. But 
 
264 
 
 our hero was not the man to despair. He mustered all 
 his credit, and made a dead and successful set at his 
 tailor, who furnished him with two full suits, the price of 
 which he apportioned equally among his punctual cus 
 tomers, who, he justly thought, ought to pay something 
 for being in good credit. He blew a desperate blast, 
 and raised the wind for a gig and tandem, which he ob 
 tained by means which have puzzled us more than any 
 phenomenon we ever witnessed in all .our lives. He did 
 all this, and he triumphantly departed for the springs, 
 where the quo ad hoc hook catches many an inexperi 
 enced belle and beau, and where the pretty rice-fed 
 damsels of the south do congregate, whose empire ex 
 tends not only over the whole region of beauty, but 
 likewise over divers plantations of cotton, and diver? 
 scores of gentlemen, both of colour and no colour. 
 
 The arrival of our hero at the springs occasioned 
 quite a sensation. The young ladies inquired who he 
 was, and their mammas what he was worth. The an 
 swer to this latter question was by no means satisfacto 
 ry ; although nothing absolutely certain could be gather 
 ed for some time, as to the precise state of his finances. 
 Meanwhile he singled out a daughter of the sun, of 
 whom fame reported that she was heiress to a great 
 dismal swamp of rice, and plantations of cotton, and 
 feudal lady over hundreds of serfs, who bowed to hef 
 sway with absolute devotion. Our hero baited the quo 
 ad hoc hook, and angled for the fair lady of the rice 
 swamp, with more than the patience of a professor of 
 what Isaac Walton calls the "gentle craft." The 
 young lady was quite unknowing in the ways of tbf 
 
265 
 
 kon ton. She had been bred up in the country, where 
 she studied romance in books of religion, and religion 
 in books of romance. She had never run the gauntlet 
 through a phalanx of beaux, every one of whom gave 
 her a wound ; nor had she lost the sweetest inheritance 
 of a woman that willing, wilful credulity which almost 
 loves to be deluded, and which had rather be deceived 
 into a conviction of worth, than be obliged to believe 
 it has been deceived. She was in truth deplorably 
 unsophisticated in the ways of men and of the world. 
 She did not even dream that money was actually neces 
 sary to supply our wants, much less did it enter into her 
 innocent fancy, that it was utterly impossible to be mar 
 ried at present, without the indispensable requisites of 
 mahogany folding doors and marble mantel pieces, sil 
 ver forks, satin curtains, Brussels carpets, and all those 
 things which constitute the happiness of this life. In 
 short, she had no tournure at all, and was moreover a 
 little blue, having somehow imbibed a notion, that no 
 man was worth a lady's eye, unless he was distinguished 
 by something of some sort or other she hardly knew 
 what. It never entered her head and why should it f 
 for this is the result of experience alone it never en 
 tered her head, that good sense, a good heart, and e 
 good disposition, were far more important ingredients 
 in the composition of wedded bliss, than a pretty turn 
 for poetry, or a decided vocation to the fine arts. 
 
 But her lady mother, under whose guardian wing oui s 
 
 heroine now first expanded her pinions, was another 
 
 sort of " animal," as the polite Johnnies say of a wo* 
 
 man. She was perfectly aware of the ingredients no* 
 
 23 
 
266 
 
 cessary to the proper constitution of a rational wed 
 ding. None knew better than herself, that money only 
 becomes the brighter for wearing, and that a vast many 
 other things especially valued by inexperienced young 
 ladies, not only lose their lustre and value, but actually 
 wear out entirely in the course of time. Experience 
 had taught her, that Cupid was only the divinity of 
 youth, whereas honest Plutus never lost his attractions, 
 but only fascinated his votaries the more strongly as 
 they grew in age and wisdom. In short, she had a 
 great contempt for merit, and a much greater venera 
 tion for money. 
 
 Acting under these opposite conclusions, it is little 
 to be wondered at, if the old lady and the young one 
 drew different ways. Our hero made daily progress 
 with the daughter, and lost ground with the mother 
 faster than he gained it with the other. The old lady 
 watched him intensely, and always had something par 
 ticular to say to her daughter, whenever he occupied 
 her attention for a moment. She could not stir a step 
 without the young lady, and grew so weak and infirm, 
 that at length she could not walk across the room with 
 out the aid of her arm. Our hero entered the lists in 
 the art of mining and countermining, but he was no 
 match for the old lady, who, though she had but two 
 eyes, and those none of the brightest, saw all that Ar 
 gus could have seen with his fifty. The opposition of 
 currents is sure to raise the froth; and opposition ifl 
 love hath the same effect on the imagination, which is 
 Cupid's prime minister, if not Cupid himself. 
 
 In this way things -went on ; our hero was in the si- 
 
tuation of a general with two frontiers to defend, and 
 lost ground on one as fast as he gained it on the other. 
 With the young lady he was better than well ; with the 
 old one, worse than bad. About this time, another 
 pretender entered the lists against our hero, equally 
 well dressed, equal in whiskers, equal in intrepidity ? 
 and equally in want of the sine qua non. A rival is 
 sure to bring matters to a crisis, except in the case of 
 a young lady who knows and properly estimates the ex 
 quisite delights of flirtation. The good mother saw 
 pretty clearly, that this hew pretender would infallibly, 
 by the force of repulsion, drive her daughter to the op 
 posite side that is, into the arjns of our hero. She 
 therefore cut the matter short at once, and forbid the 
 young lady to speak, walk, sit, ride, or exchange looks 
 with our hero. The young lady obeyed in all except the 
 last injunction ; and, if the truth must be told, made 
 up in looks for the absence of all the others. The old 
 lady saw it would not do, and forthwith sending for our 
 hero, peremptorily dismissed him, with the assurance 
 that her daughter should never marry him that if she 
 did, she would never see or speak to her more, but hold 
 her alien to her heart forever. She then quitted our 
 hero with tears in her eyes, leaving him with his eyes 
 wide open. 
 
 He took his hat and stick paid his bill no, I am 
 wrong ; he did not pay his bill and casting a look at 
 the window of his " ladye' love" that cracked six panes 
 of glass, proceeded in a fit of desperation to the rock 
 then without a name, but now immortalized as the Lo 
 vers' Rock. This rock frowns tremendously, as all 
 
268 
 
 rocks do, and hangs in lowering majesty over the stream 
 of Kayaderosseros a name in itself sufficient to indi 
 cate the presence of something extraordinary if not 
 actually terrible. On arriving at this gloomy, savage, 
 wild, and dreary spot, our hero took out a pocket-glass 
 and adjusted his whiskers to the nicety of a hair he 
 then deliberately drew forth his pen knife with a pearl 
 handle and silver springs, and cleaned his nails. After 
 this he pulled up his neckcloth five or six times, and 
 shook his head manfully ; then he took off his coat, 
 folded it up carefully, laid it down, took it up, kissed 
 it, and shed some bitter tears over this object of his dear 
 est cares : then after a solemn and affecting pause, he 
 tied a white pocket handkerchief about his head, cast 
 his eyes upwards, clasped ms nanas, IOOK one lareweil 
 look at himself in the pocket glass, then dashing it into 
 a thousand pieces, he rushed furiously to the edge of 
 the precipice, and turning a sommerset by mistake back 
 wards, fell flat on his bishops, on the hard rock, where 
 be lay motionless for sometime doubtless as much sur 
 prised as was poor Gloster, when he threw himself as he 
 supposed from Dover Cliff, to find that he was not dead. 
 The truth is, our hero could hardly believe himself alive, 
 until at length he recognized to his utter surprise and 
 disappointment, that he had committed an egregious 
 blunder in throwing himself down on the top, instead 
 of the bottom of the rock. 
 
 He determined, in his own mind, to do the thing bet 
 ter next time, and was preparing to avoid a similar 
 blunder, when through the dim, wicked, enticing obscu 
 rity of the pine grove, he thought he saw a sylph like 
 
269 
 
 figure,, gliding- not walking swiftly in the direction ol 
 the rock. He gazed again, and it assumed the port of 
 aiortal woman. A little nearer, and it emerged from 
 the glossy, silver foliage, in the form of the sovereign 
 lady of his heart, the mistress of the rice swamps. She 
 had seen him depart with murder in his eye, and des 
 peration in his step ; she had heard from her mother of 
 his summary dismissal, and had no doubt he had gone 
 to that rock, where erewhile they had looked unutterable 
 things, to kill himself as dead as a stone. Taking ad 
 vantage of the interregnum of a nap, she escaped the 
 maternal guardianship, and followed him at a distance. 
 She had seen his preparations for self immolation ; she 
 had seen the pathetic farewell between him and himself, 
 the tying of. the handkerchief, the pulling off of the coat, 
 the wringing of the hands, the rush towards the edge of 
 the rock ; and she had seen him disappear, just as with 
 a shriek, which he heard not, she had fallen insensible 
 to the ground. When she name to herself, and recalled 
 what she had seen, she determined to follow her mur 
 dered lover to the rock, and throw herself down after 
 him, in the bitterness of her despair. But what can 
 describe her delight, when on arriving at the fatal spot, 
 she saw her true lover running towards her apparently 
 as well as ever he was in his life ! An explanation took 
 place, which was followed by words of sweet consola- 
 on the part of the lady. 
 
 " I swear," said she, " by the genius which inhabits 
 
 this rock, by the nymphs which sport in this babbling 
 
 brook, by the dryads and hamadryads that live in these 
 
 hollow pines, that I will not obey my cruel mother. I 
 
 23* 
 
 ' 
 
270 
 
 will marry thee, and should my obdurate parent disin 
 herit me, and send me forth to beggary, I will share it 
 with thee. Let her disinherit me if she will ; what is 
 fortune what is " 
 
 " Dis dis disin disinherit, did you say V 9 inter 
 rupted our hero, staring in wild astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, disinherit," replied the young lady, enthusias 
 tically, " I will brave disinheritance, poverty, exile, want, 
 neglect, contempt, remorse, despair, death, all for you. 
 SO you dont kill yourself again." 
 
 " Pis dis disin disinherit," continued our hero, 
 in a state of increasing distraction, " pov , ex , 
 wa , neg , con , re , des , death ; why what is 
 all this, angel of my immortal soul ?" 
 
 " O dont take on so dont take on so my own deai 
 heart : I swear again, and again, a hundred, aye, ten 
 hundred thousand million times, that I dont care if my 
 mother cuts me off with a shilling " 
 
 " Gut cut offshilling why I thought that is 
 I understood that is, I was assured that that you 
 had a fortune in your own right?" 
 
 " No, not a penny, thank heaven ; I can now show 
 you the extent of my love, by sacrificing fortune every 
 thing for you. I'll follow you in beggary through the 
 world." 
 
 c< I'll be if you will," our hero was just going 
 
 to say, but checked himself and cried out in accents of 
 despair, " And you have no fortune of your own I" 
 " No, thank heaven !" 
 " No rice swamps V 9 
 " No, thank heaven !" 
 
271 
 
 {i No cotton plantations ?" 
 
 "No, thank heaven!" 
 
 "No uplands, nor lowlands, nor sea island, nor 
 long staple, nor short staple ?" 
 
 " No, thank heaven !" 
 
 " Nor crops of corn ? ?; 
 
 " No, thank heaven !" 
 " Nor neg I mean gentlemen of colour." 
 
 " Not one, thank heaven !" 
 
 " And you are entirely dependent on your mother V r 
 
 " Yes ; and she has sworn to disinherit me if I marry 
 you, thank heaven ; you have now an opportunity of 
 showing the disinterestedness of your affection." 
 
 Our hero started up in a phrenzy of despair he rush 
 ed madly and impetuously to the edge of the precipice, 
 and avoiding a similar mistake with that he had just 
 committed, threw himself headlong down into the terrible 
 torrent with the terrible name, and floated none knew 
 whither, for his body was never found. The young lady 
 was turned into stone dont be alarmed, gentle reader- 
 only for a few minutes, at the end of which she be 
 thought herself of following her lover ; then she be 
 thought herself of considering the matter ; and finally 
 she fell into an inexplicable perplexity, as to what 
 eould have got into our hero, to drown himself in de 
 spair at the very moment she was promising to make 
 him the happiest of men. She determined to live till 
 she had solved this doubt, which by the way she never 
 could do to the end of her life, and she died without: 
 being able to tell what it was that made her lover make 
 away with himself at such an improper time. Be this 
 
272 
 
 as it may, the landlord and the man-mercer, like the 
 " devil and the king," in the affair of Sir Balaam, divi 
 ded the prize ; one taking the gig, the other the tandem. 
 From that time the place has gone by the name of the 
 LOVER'S ROCK, and not a true lover, or true hearted 
 lady ever visits the springs without sojourning many an 
 hour of sentimental luxury on the spot whert* our hero 
 could not survive the anguish of even anticipating, that 
 he should cause the lady of his heart to be disinherited 
 for love of him. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OF THE BEHAVIOUR PROPER FOR ELDERLY SINGLE GEN 
 TLEMEN AT THE SPRINGS. 
 
 In days of yore, before the march of mind and the 
 improvements in style and dress which distinguish the 
 present happy age, old bachelors deserved no mercy 
 unless they came under the class of disappointed lovers, 
 er proved to the satisfaction of the world, " they would 
 if they could." But now unless a man is born rich, he 
 cant afford to marry till he grows rich, in doing which he 
 is very apt to grow old. Hence the number of bache 
 lors is sure to increase with the progress of refinement, 
 which mainly consists in the invention or adoption of 
 new modes of dress, new fashioned furniture, and new 
 ways of spending money. Bachelors have, for these* 
 seasons, become of late sufficiently numerous to consti- 
 
273 
 
 lute a class by themselves, and to merit a code- designed 
 especially for their use and government. At the same 
 time we premise, that all things considered, we are of 
 opinion, that since it is indecent for a man of any preten 
 sions to get married until he can afford to live in a three 
 story house with mahogany~folding doors and marble 
 mantel pieces, he ought not to be classed with old 
 bachelors, till it can be proved he has been five years 
 rich enough for the deed, or till he is fully convicted of 
 threescore, when he must give in, and take his place in 
 the corps. 
 
 1. Bachelors, or more politely, single gentlemen 
 of a certain age, ought never to marry any but very 
 young, sprightly belles, of the first fashion and pre 
 tensions. The true foundation of mutual affection ia 
 in the attraction, not of affinity, but of contrast. This 
 contrast is perfect, between a gentleman of fifty and a 
 young lady of sixteen, and nothing can come of such a 
 union, but mutual love, and perfect obedience on the 
 part of the lady, who ten to one will look up to him 
 as a father. 
 
 2. Single gentlemen of a certain age, who are rich 
 enough to afford a curricle, together with a three story 
 house with folding doors and marble mantel pieces, need 
 not be under any apprehensions of being rejected by a 
 young lady, brought up as she ought to be, with a pro 
 per insight into the respective value of men and things. 
 But they should not be more than ten years making up 
 their minds, remembering the fowler, who was so long 
 taking aim that the bird flew away before he drew the 
 trigger. 
 
274 
 
 3. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never 
 play a double part, or sport with the hearts of inexperi 
 enced young'ladies. 
 
 4. Single gentlemen of a certain age, should beware 
 of the widowers, who are always in a hurry. We have 
 known a bachelor cut out by a brisk widower, before he 
 knew where he was. 
 
 5. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never 
 plead guilty to a single ache or pain, except growing 
 pains. They should never remember any thing that 
 happened more than ten years back. To recollect 
 past times, is a melancholy proof of old age. 
 
 6. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never 
 attempt a cotillion, or cut a caper, except they are sure 
 of going through with it. If they are once laughed at in 
 public it is all over with them. They had better be poor. 
 
 7. Single gentlemen of a certain age should beware 
 how they " buck up" to widows, unless they have pre 
 viously brought themselves, as Lady Macbeth who was 
 undoubtedly a widow when Macbeth married her -says, 
 " to the sticking place," that is, to the resolution of 
 committing matrimony at a moment's warning. Your 
 widows, if they mean to marry again at all, never like 
 to linger on the funeral pyre of a bachelor's indecision. 
 
 8. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never 
 marry, except they have proof positive of the disinte 
 rested affection of the young lady. In order to ascer 
 tain this, it would be well to circulate a rumour of great 
 losses, or actual bankruptcy, and put down the equipage. 
 Any lady we mean any young lady, of the real, fashion 
 able tournure, that can stand this, must have a heart like 
 a stone. 
 
275 
 
 9. Single gentlemen of a certain age ought never to 
 have more than two ladies in prospect at one time ; 
 one for each eye, else they may chance to lose both. 
 The prevailing offence of bachelors, is that of ill bred 
 pointers : you cannot bring them to a dead point, although 
 they will be popping their noses every where. 
 
 10. Single gentlemen of a certain age, being always 
 young, should never keep company with old people, for 
 fear the old proverb, about birds of a feather, should be 
 fired at their heads. They should now and then com 
 mit a gentlemanly excess, such as drinking six bottles 
 at a sitting, or playing cards all night, though it might 
 be expedient not to appear in public till the effects are 
 gone off. An old field is not so easily renovated as a 
 new one. 
 
 11. Single gentlemen of a certain age, who are well 
 to do in the world, ought to make the first advances 
 to the mothers of young ladies they are inspired with a 
 desire to appropriate. The former know the value of 
 money better than the latter, and a well bred daughter, 
 will think it indelicate to pretend to know any difference 
 between one man and another, except as respects his for- . 
 tune. For, as the great poet says, " worth makes the 
 man," that is, the money he is worth. 
 
 12. Single gentlemen of a certain age, which phrase 
 we ought before this to have explained, as indicating 
 gentlemen whose ages are altogether uncertain ; such 
 gentlemen ought never to deceive the young ladies in 
 any thing but their age and their money. A desire to 
 appear young, and to be thought rich, is so natural and 
 amiable, that none but a cynic, would ascribe it to a 
 bad motive. 
 
276 
 
 13. Very old single gentlemen of a certain age should 
 be careful how they marry in the month of January, for 
 reasons which shall be nameless ; or in February, for 
 reasons which will readily present themselves ; or in 
 March," for reasons we do not think proper to specify ; 
 or in April, for reasons best known to ourselves ; or in 
 May, for reasons of the first magnitude ; or in June, 
 for reasons which cannot be obviated ; or in July, for 
 reasons which no one will venture to controvert ; or in 
 August, for reasons which every body will understand ; 
 or in September, for reasons which to be ignorant of 
 would impeach the reader's understanding ; or in Octo 
 ber, for reasons highly appropriate ; or in November, 
 for reasons deep and profound ; or in December, for 
 reasons as plain as the nose on our face* There are, 
 moreover, seven days of the week in which very old 
 single gentlemen of a certain age ought not to think of 
 being married. Monday, because that is washing day. 
 Tuesday, or Twosday as it was originally written, be 
 cause that is ominous, " man and wife will be two" be 
 fore the end of the week. Wednesday, or Wedding- 
 day, as is the true orthography, for that is generally the 
 day of all others an old single gentleman of a certain 
 age recollects with the least satisfaction. Thursday, 
 or Thorsday, because it was christened after the Pagan 
 deity, Thor, and marriage is a Christian ceremony. 
 Friday, because it is hanging day, and he might be 
 tempted to disgrace the anniversary of his wedding by 
 turning himself off that day. Saturday, because that is 
 too far from the middle of the week, and the maxim in 
 dealing with the ladies is, medio tutissimtts ibis. Nor. 
 
277 
 
 above all, on Sunday, for that is dies wow, and no monied 
 transactions, or purchases and sales, are lawful on that 
 day. Any other day in the week it is perfectly safe for 
 them to marry. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OF MATRIMONY, AND THE BEST MODE OF INSURING 
 HAPPINESS IN THE STATE, BY A DISCREET CHOICE OF 
 A HELPMATE. 
 
 In the present improved system of society, when the 
 young ladies wear spatterdashes, and the young gentle 
 men corsetts, money is absolutely essential to the pa 
 tient endurance of the married state. The choice of a 
 rich husband, or wife, supersedes, therefore, the neces 
 sity of all rules, as wealth secures to the successful ad 
 venturer all the happiness this world can give, so long 
 as it lasts. But as every one is not so fortunate as to 
 achieve a rich heir or heiress, the following hints may 
 enable them to make a choice that will in some measure 
 supply the absence of the aforesaid indispensable re 
 quisite. 
 
 1. Beauty is a principal ingredient of happiness in 
 the married state, and it is scarcely ever observed that a 
 handsome couple is otherwise than truly happy. If it 
 is objected that beauty is but a fading flower, we an 
 swer, that when it is faded, all that the parties have to 
 do, is to think each other beautiful. If such an effort 
 24 
 
278 
 
 of the imagination is beyond them, they must do the best 
 they can, and admire each other for their good qualities* 
 
 2. Next in value to beauty, is the capacity of making 
 a figure at all public places, by dressing well, dancing 
 well, and making oneself agreeable to every body. 
 Nobody, except such as have experienced it, can con 
 ceive the happiness of having one's wife, or husband, 
 admired by all the world. As to how they conduct 
 themselves in private, and in the domestic lete a tete, that 
 is a matter of very little consequence, so long as they 
 have sufficient discretion to keep their own secrets, and 
 sufficient good breeding not to quarrel before the public. 
 
 3. As nothing is so outrageously vulgar, as the idea 
 of not spending money, because people have not got it 
 to spend, the next best gift to a rich or handsome wife, 
 is a wife that knows how to spend a fortune. This is 
 an infallible proof of high breeding, and great cleverness 
 withal. Any fool can make a figure with money, but 
 to make an equal figure' without it, is an invaluable 
 qualification in a wife. 
 
 4. Never marry any body you have ever heard or 
 seen laughed at by people of fashion, unless he or she 
 is rich, or who does not always follow the recent fashions 
 in every thing. A bonnet or a coat out of fashion, infalli 
 bly degrades people from their station in society, whe 
 ther they are young or old, and a person that leads the 
 ton, is almost an equal prize with an heiress or a beauty. 
 
 5. Never marry a lady who appears unconscious of 
 her "beauty or accomplishments, except she is an heiress ; 
 for this presupposes a degree of blindness and stupidity 
 truly deplorable. How can you expect a woman to see 
 the good qualities of her husband, who is blind to her owti ? 
 
279 
 
 6. Never many a woman of prudence, good sense, 
 good temper, and piety, excepting always she is rich ; 
 for if you happen to turn out an indifferent husband, all 
 the world will blame you ; whereas if she is as bad, or 
 worse than yourself, you will have the best possible 
 
 7. Never marry a woman who is particularly retiring 
 in her disposition and habits. This bespeaks shyness, 
 and shyness indicates slyness, and slyness, hypocrisy. 
 Your bold faced, harem-scarem women, who show all, 
 and disguise nothing, are the best. There is no decep 
 tion about them, and it is a proof that they have nothing 
 to hide, when they hide nothing. Ladies that eat nothing 
 in public, generally make it up in the pantry, and to 
 quote a saying fashionable at Almack's, " The still 
 sow, &c. &c." 
 
 8. Beware of that monstrmn horrendum, a woman 
 that affects to have a will of her own, before marriage, 
 and to act up to certain old fashioned notions of propri 
 ety and decorum. One who refuses to make herself 
 ridiculous, though it is the fashion ; who will not waltz 
 in public with a perfect stranger, though it is the fashion ; 
 who will not flirt with any body that comes in her way, 
 though it is the fashion ; and who absolutely refuses to 
 act and look like a fool, though every body else sets her 
 the example. Such a woman will trouble you exceed 
 ingly, and ten to one, never let you rest till you become 
 as ridiculous as herself. 
 
 9. Beware also of a woman who had rather stay at 
 home and read Paradise Lost, than walk up and down the 
 Paradise of Broadway, in a high wind and . cloud ol 
 
280 
 
 dust, holding her hat with one hand, and her cloak will/ 
 the other. Such a woman decidedly prefers exercise of 
 mind to exercise of limbs, and will never make a good 
 waltzer. 
 
 10. Beware of blue stockings, for they are abroad. 
 
 11. Beware of bishops and hoop petticoats^ for they 
 are abroad. 
 
 12. Beware we address ourselves particularly to 
 the ladies beware of all manner of men, that aspire to 
 be useful in their generation, except they be rich ; be 
 ware of all men who look as if nature had any hand in 
 their composition, except they be rich ; beware of all 
 that aspire to be better and wiser than their neighbours, 
 except they be rich ; beware of young lawyers, who 
 think of nothing but estates and ladies intail ; beware 
 of young physicians, whose knowledge of anatomy and 
 craniology enables them to dive into all your secrets ; 
 beware of the young parsons in spectacles, who look 
 through and through your hearts ; beware of all manner 
 of men who look at bills before paying them ; beware of 
 all sorts of handicraft men, except Monsieur Manuel, 
 the barber, and Monsieur Simon, the cook ; and, above 
 all, beware of your stiff, starched fellows, that aspire to 
 the cardinal virtues, for that smacks of Popery. 
 
 We had thoughts of following up these rules for en 
 tering the happy state of matrimony, with some general 
 directions for preserving harmony after marriage. But 
 upon the whole it is scarcely worth while. The great 
 thing after all, is to be fairly and honestly married, and 
 what happens afterwards is of minor consequence. If 
 
281 
 
 you have money you cannot be otherwise than happy. 
 If you have beauty, fashion and good dancing, it is your 
 own fault if you are not happy ; and if you have none of 
 these, you have no right to expect happiness. If you 
 are only contented and comfortable, that is all you can 
 hope for in this world, without riches, beauty, or fashion, 
 and that is more than you deserve for marrying only a 
 discreet, prudent, sensible, amiable, tolerable looking 
 dowdy of a man or woman. We shall therefore con 
 clude this portion of our undertaking, by cordially wish 
 ing all our fashionable readers, well, that is, richly mar 
 ried ; a wish which includes all sublunary blessings. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF THE BEST MODES OF KILLING THE GRAND ENEMY OF 
 THE FASHIONABLE HUMAN RACE, WHO HAVE NOTHING 
 TO DO IN THIS WORLD BUT BE HAPPY. 
 
 Of all the various modes and inventions devised since 
 the creation of the world, for passing the time, none can 
 compare with EATING ; and nothing appears wanting to 
 human happiness, but the capacity of eating on without 
 stopping, from the cradle to the grave. But alas ! 
 people cannot eat forever ! and all they can do, after 
 one meal, is to anticipate the delights of another. 
 When we can eat no more, the best possible substitute 
 is to think of eating. Such are the glorious effects of 
 the waters at the springs, that they would constitute the 
 best substitute for Nectar, or Binghanij or Nabob, to bo 
 24* 
 
282 
 \ 
 
 found upon this earth, if the good things to be eateii 
 were only in proportion to our appetite to eat them. 
 But alas ! truth obliges us to confess, this is not the 
 case. No canvass backs, no oysters, no turtle, no 
 Goose and Gridiron, no Droze, no Pardessus,no Sykes, 
 no Niblo, high priest and caterer of the gourmands of 
 JVova Eboracensis, we would say of the gods them 
 selves, were we not of opinion they knew little of the 
 importance of the grand science, as appears by then 
 omitting to ennoble one of their number, by installing 
 him god of eating, and thus placing him above the 
 great Bacchus himself. But on second thoughts, this 
 might have arisen from the jealousy of Jove, who doubt 
 less foresaw that such a deity would monopolize the 
 incense of mankind, and leave his shrine without a votary. 
 Well, therefore, might the great philosopher lay it 
 down as the grand secret of human happiness, that " we 
 should live to eat, and not eat to live," since in this is 
 contained the true secret of the summum bonum, which 
 so puzzled all antiquity. Previous to those prodigious 
 steps in the march of mind, which have ennobled the 
 present age beyond all others that preceded, or that will 
 succeed it, the gentler sex were unhappily precluded in 
 some degree, from eating more than was absolutely 
 necessary. Nay, some of the most approved models 
 of heroines of romance, so far as we are without any 
 authority from the authors of these works to the con 
 trary, never ate at all. It was considered indelicate to 
 eat as if they cared any thing about it ; and there is 
 good authority for saying, that a great match was once 
 broken off, in consequence of the lady being detected 
 by her lover in eating raw oysters. But the world of 
 
late years, grows wiser, much faster than it grows older, 
 and thanks be to the steam engines for it ! The inter 
 dict against female eating is withdrawn, and it does 
 one's heart good to see how they enjoy themselves at 
 the springs, and at parties in town. They eat like so 
 many beautiful little pigeons, till their beautiful little 
 craws seem, as if they might peradventure, burst their 
 corsetts ; and foul befall those egregious innovators, who 
 we hear are attempting to revive the fashion of giving 
 soirees, without the accompaniments of oysters, porter, 
 and champagne. May they be condemned to sponge 
 cake and lemonade all their lives, and be " at home" to 
 nobody, till they learn how to treat their friends. 
 
 One of the phenomena which has puzzled us more 
 than almost any thing in this world, is that people who 
 meet together solely for pleasure, should ever get tired 
 of themselves or their company. But so it is ; there is 
 probably a greater portion of time hanging on the hands 
 of those who live only for amusement, than falls to the 
 share of any other class. Hence it is that rich and 
 fashionable people are so frequently dull, out of humour 
 and splenetic ; while the labouring classes, and those 
 who ought, in reason and propriety, to be miserable, 
 enjoy an unaccountable hilarity of spirits, and actually 
 seem to crowd into one hour more real enjoyment than 
 a man of pleasure, whose sole business is to be happy, 
 gathers in a whole life of animated, uninterrupted 
 pursuit. How provoking it is to see a miserable linsey- 
 woolsey villain, without a single solitary requisite for 
 comfort in high life, laughing, and dancing, and revel 
 ling in an exuberance of spirits, while a company of 
 people of pleasure, who have nothing to do but be 
 
284 
 
 happy, will sit inveloped in gloom, dance as if they were 
 following a funeral, and laugh, if they laugh at all, with 
 a melancholy indifference truly exemplary. Is it pos 
 sible that labour, or at least employment of some kind, 
 is necessary to the enjoyment of ease, and to the viva 
 city of the animal spirits 1 Certainly it would seem so. 
 Nobody laughs with such glee as the chimney sweep, 
 and the negro slave of the south, whom we are always 
 pitying ; and of all the grave people on the face of the 
 earth, the North American Indian, who despises work, 
 and lives a life of ease, is the gravest ; while his wife 
 who carries the burdens, cultivates the corn, and per 
 forms, all the domestic labours, is observed to be gay 
 and cheerful. It is certainly passing strange, though it 
 would appear to be true, that the people we most envy, 
 namely the rich and the idle, enjoy the least of life's 
 sunshine, though they seem to be always basking in it. 
 The old indian affirmed that among the white men. 
 " the hog was the only gentleman," for he never worked, 
 was fed upon the best corn, and at last grew so fat he 
 could not walk. Certainly the comparison is not far 
 from odious ; but there are certain mortifying points of 
 resemblance between the quadruped and the biped gen 
 tleman. 
 
 Be this jj it i ,-iy, such being the difficulty which 
 environs the fortunate beings, who in thteir chase of 
 pleasure, at length run it down at the springs, and know 
 not what to do with themselves afterwards, we hold him 
 a great public benefactor, equal to the father of a canal 
 or a rail road, or a cotton manufactory, who shall devise 
 ways and means to rid these unfortunate beingsunfor 
 tunate in having too much time andjmoney on their hanck 
 
285 
 
 at least of a portion of the former. After much deep 
 and intense cogitation, we have devised a series of 
 amusements, which if followed up with proper industry; 
 will seldom, if ever, fail of the desired end. 
 
 The first and best preservative against ennui, is fall 
 ing in love. If you are successful, that cures all evils 
 for the time being ; and if otherwise, the disappoint 
 ment is a sovereign remedy for ennui, which never 
 troubles people who have any thing else to trouble them, 
 
 Dressing is no bad preventative, provided you are 
 long enough about it, and take a proper interest in look 
 ing well. We have known a dishabille give a tinge of 
 melancholy for a whole day ; and more than one per 
 son cured of a serious indisposition by resolutely getting 
 up, changing his linen, putting on a new suit, shaving 
 his beard, and perfuming his whiskers. Many ladies 
 have also been rescued from profound melancholy, by 
 putting on a gay coloured dress, with pearl ear-rings 
 and bracelets, which proved remarkably becoming. 
 The oftener you dress the better ; for besides the ma 
 nual exercise, the frequent change produces a corres 
 ponding change of ideas, and a consequent gentle exer 
 cise of the animal spirits, highly salutary. Gay colours 
 are best, as they make people look gay, which is the 
 next thing to being gay. After all, we are but camelions. 
 and owe the colour of our minds to outward objects. 
 
 Gentlemen have a great resource in the reading 
 room, provided they have a literary turn, and are redu 
 ced to great extremity to pass the morning. We recol 
 lect a literary character at the springs, who spent three 
 hours over the newspapers every day, yet could never 
 toll the news, nor the day of the week, and what was 
 
286 
 
 thought rather remarkable, seemed never the wiser for 
 his studies. Ladies must, however, be careful to read 
 nothing but romances, lest they should pass for blue 
 stockings, which among the fashionables, are considered 
 synonymous with blue devils. 
 
 Music and reading parties, are not bad in a rainy day. 
 A little music, provided it is not out of tune or time, 
 will while along the leaden hours of pleasure wonder 
 fully, when there are admiring beaux to listen and ap 
 plaud, and who can relish pure Italian. Beware how 
 ever of di tanti palpiti, which is grown so common thai 
 the very sweeps whistle it while making their way up 
 chimney. When any thing gets so common with the 
 vulgar, it is beneath the notice or patronage of people 
 of fashion, however beautiful it may be. One of the 
 great, indeed the sole objection to eating, drinking, 
 sleeping and breathing, is that we enjoy them in com 
 mon with the brutes, and the vulgar who are little better. 
 Moore's songs ought always to be preferred on these 
 occasions, because they are altogether sentimental, or 
 sensual, which is quite synonymous now a days. Next 
 to actual, bona fida kissings, embracings, palpitations, 
 luscious meetings, and heart rending adieus, is the de 
 scription of these things in luscious verse, aided by the 
 magic strains of melting melody. It almost makes one 
 feel as if really going through these delightful evolutions. 
 It is not worth while to mind what stiff people, who 
 affect decorum of speech, say on tbe subject. There 
 are many matters that may be sung, but not said. One 
 may sing about things, which it would be thought "rather 
 critical to talk about. 
 
 Jn respect to reading, it is much to be regretted that 
 
287 
 
 we have nothing new of Lord Byron, but his helmet, 
 which we understand is to be exhibited at the springs 
 the present season, provided it is not disposed of to a 
 valiant militia officer, who is said to be in treaty for the 
 same. Formerly the literary society of the springs 
 could calculate upon a new canto of Don Juan every 
 month, redolent with the inspiration of misanthropy and 
 '* gin and water;"* but now, at least with the exception 
 of this present work, unless a Waverley or a Cooper 
 tumbles down from the summit of Parnassus, theje is 
 scarcely any thing worth reading but souvenirs, which 
 unluckily appear so out of season, that they are a hun 
 dred years old before the spring, that is, the spring of 
 fashionable life at the springs arrives, with all the birds 
 of passage in its train. In this dilemma, the choice must 
 be left to the judgment of the party, with this solemn 
 caution, to select no work that is more than a month 
 old. 
 
 People who are not addicted to deep studies may 
 manage to get through a long storm pretty tolerably, by 
 looking out at a window, and wondering when it will 
 clear off % A northeast storm of two or three days is 
 the most trying time ; for as nobody thinks of a fire in 
 summer, though it be never so cold, the votaries of 
 pleasure have no other resource than going to bed to 
 keep themselves from an ague. Gentlemen who 'play, 
 have a never failing resource for all times, seasons, and 
 vicissitudes of the weather, all which pass unfelt and 
 unnoticed, in the delightful excitement of winning and 
 losing. The best way to guard against these storms, 
 is to shut the windows, lock the doors, light candles, 
 * See Leigh Hunt's notice of Lord Byron's life and habits. 
 
288 
 
 and turn day into night, as there are certain amuse 
 ments which are only proper for darkness and obscurity. 
 
 In addition to these domestic enjoyments, resources 
 may be found without doors in pleasant weather. 
 Among these is the excursion to Saratoga Lake, to ram 
 ble along its banks, or fish, or flirt, or do any other 
 fashionable thing. The water of the lake is so pure 
 and transparent, that people with tolerable eyes, may 
 see their faces in it. Hence arises a great advantage ; 
 for^oung persons who dont care to contemplate any 
 beauties but their own, may here behold them in the 
 greatest perfection, in the pure mirror of the waters. 
 So perfect is the reflexion, that more than one Narcissus 
 hath beheld himself there, and pined to death for love 
 of his own image ; and many a fair and unsuspecting 
 damsel, that never saw herself in gilded mirror, has 
 here, for the first time, become conscious of her charms, 
 by the babbling of these tell tale waters.. So vivid are 
 the pictures thus displayed, and so true to nature, that a 
 young fellow of our intimate acquaintance, who had some 
 what spoiled a pair of good eyes, by eternally squinting 
 through a glass, because it was the fashion, once actu 
 ally mistook the shadow of a young heiress in the lake, 
 for the young heiress herself, and jumped in to save her 
 from drowning. The lady was so touched by this gal 
 lant mistake, that she took the will for the deed, and the 
 young man into the bargain. N. B. The fish are not 
 worth the trouble of catching, but the men that go there, 
 are, sometimes, and so are the ladies. 
 
 There is also fine trout in Barheit's Pond, to which there 
 is a pleasant ricte through the pine woods, at least they 
 say there is fine trout, if one could only catch them with 
 
289 
 
 anything but a silver hook. But such is the staid allegi 
 ance of these loyal fishes, that they will not suffer them 
 selves to be hooked by any body but their sovereign lord, 
 the proprietor of the waters. We ourselves have fished 
 in this famous pool, till a great spider came and wove 
 his web, from the tip of our nose to the tip end of our 
 fishing rod, and caught several flies. But we caught 
 no fish, nor would St. Anthony himself, we verily believe, 
 had he preached ever such sound doctrines. N. B. Mine 
 host may possibly bite, though the trout wont. 
 
 For longer excursions, there is the famous field of 
 Saratoga, on which the key stone of the arch of our in 
 dependence was raised, and six thousand English inva 
 ders laid down their arms, and where a pillar ought to 
 be erected to commemorate the triumph of free soldiers. 
 There is also Lake George, the masterpiece of nature, 
 and Hadley's Falls, which will richly repay a visit, and 
 charmingly occupy a day. There is also a pleasant 
 little ride, which we ourselves discovered, due north 
 of Saratoga, along an excellent road, skirted on one 
 hand by rich meadows, on the other by a rugged, 
 rocky hill, from which ever and anon, pours down a little 
 brawling stream, that loses itself among the high green 
 grass of the lowlands. Of a fine afternoon towards 
 sunset, when the slanting beams of the sun leave the 
 east side of the hills enveloped in cooling shades, it is 
 pleasant to ride along and taste the charms of nature, 
 after revelling in those of art at the springs. But what 
 are we talking about ? we have forgot ourselves. Such 
 matters are unworthy our book and those to whom it is 
 addressed. 
 
 25 
 
290 
 
 Who indeed would waste his time in loitering about 
 these ignoble scenes, unsaid and unsung by names of 
 fashionable note, when they can walk back and forth 
 the long piazzas at the springs, where ladies bright are 
 sitting in the windows, ready to talk and be talked to \ to 
 exchange smile for smile, and to accompany any body in 
 this charming promenade if you only ask them? 
 When they can take a ride to Ballston if they are at 
 Saratoga, or to Saratoga if they are at Ballston, all the 
 way through the beautiful pine woods, show off their 
 airs we mean graces, display their fashionable dresses, 
 spy into the enemies' ramp at Sans Souci or Congress 
 Hall, criticise rival belles, rival houses, rival waters, 
 and bring home matter for at least one day's conver 
 sation, which is no trifling affair let us tell them. 
 Dire indeed is the hostility between these rival houses 
 of Sans Souci and Congress Hall, the Montagues and 
 Capulets, the Guelphs and Ghibelines of modern days. 
 Dire are the conflicts between the votaries of the diure 
 tic and cathartic nymphs of the springs, and dire the 
 scandals they utter of each other, when under the in 
 fluence of the inspiring draughts. Not rival cities, such 
 as Athens and Sparta, Rome and Carthage, London and 
 Paris, New York and Philadelphia; not rival belles, 
 rival poets, rival reviews, rival players, potentates, or 
 politicians ever breathed such defiances as Congress 
 Hall and Sans Souci. As sings the prize poet : 
 
 " Not vast ACHILLE, the greatest of the name, 
 (Not e'en excepting him of Grecian fame) 
 Not vast Achille, such pedal wars did wage 
 Against the mimic monarch of the stage, 
 
291 
 
 Who, with his hard invulnerable heel, 
 
 He laid all prostrate, quick as flint and steel ; 
 
 Nor e'er did soda, iron, or fix'd air, 
 
 So play the mischief with the rival fair," &c. 
 
 No vulgar conception can possibly comprehend the 
 exquisite excitement of this civil warfare of fashion, and 
 what a capital resource it is to the votaries of pleasure 
 at the springs, most especially on a stormy day. In 
 vain hath Professor Silliman essayed to neutralize these 
 conflicting and angry waters, by equally bearing testi 
 mony to the unequalled merits of both, unknowing that 
 there exist antipathies, which are not dreamt of in his 
 chymistry. The war still rages and will continue to rage 
 till Ballston and Saratoga, like Babylon and Nineveh 
 are no more, and their sweet waters, for the sins of the 
 people, turned into dead seas and lakes of sulphur. 
 
 It may however happen, since all things are pos 
 sible in this wonderful age, that notwithstanding all 
 these resources, these varied and never ending delights, 
 people may be at last overtaken even here, by the fiend 
 ennui, which seems to have been created on purpose to 
 confound the rich and happy. In that case, they may 
 as well give up the pursuit of happiness at once, as des 
 perate. There is nothing beyond the SPRINGS ; they are 
 the ultima thule of the fashionable world, and those who 
 find not pleasure there, may as well die at once or go 
 home. In vain will they toil on to old T, the Plains of 
 Abraham, the Falls of Montmorency, and the Lord 
 knows where. In vain fly from Ballston to Saratoga, 
 from Saratoga to Ballston, from Ballston to Lebanon, 
 from Lebanon to Rockawa^, and from Rockaway to 
 
292 
 
 Long Branch, where they may have the satisfaction of 
 bathing in the same ocean with people of the first 
 fashion. It is all in vain ; let them despair and go 
 home ; and as a last forlorn hope, endeavour to find 
 happiness in administering to the happiness of those 
 around them, an expedient we have actually known 
 to be successful in more than one instance. The 
 young ladies to working caps for a time of need ; 
 their mothers to their homely household gods ; their 
 husbands to planting trees, breeding merinos, and cul 
 tivating politics and ruta baga ; the brokers to shaving 
 closer than ever to make up for lost time ? the dandy to 
 the limits ; and his spruce rival the shop keeper, to his 
 Counter. " what a falling off!" 
 
 " The greatest fall since Adam's." 
 
 And now, gentle tourist ! having conducted thec 
 safely, and we hope, pleasantly, to the sanctuary where, 
 if thou findest not happiness it is not our fault, since we 
 have shown thee where she dwells and how to woo her, 
 we bid thee an affectionate farewell, cautioning thee, as 
 a last proof of our solicitude for thy welfare, not to go to 
 Niagara, lest peradventure, thou fallest into the hands of 
 the " Morgan Committee." Mayest thou to sum up 
 all in one consummate wish mayest thou pass thy 
 whole life in travelling for pleasure, meeting with glo 
 rious entertainment by the way, and at length find 
 peace and repose at that inn, where sooner or later, all 
 mankind take up their last night's lodging. 
 
 THE EN1K