parade of the militia, some firing of cannon and small arms, a prosession of the different trades, and the day then terminates as it ought, in profuse and patriotic jollification. But on the present occasion it was determined, in addition to the ordinary cause of rejoicing, to get up a pageant of unusual splendour, in honour of the late revolution in France. This resolution, I was informed, originated exclusively in the operative classes, or workies, as they call themselves, in contradistinction to those who live in better houses, eat better dinners, read novels and poetry, and drink old Madeira instead of Yankee rum. The latter and more enviable class, however, having been taught caution by experience, were generally disposed to consider the present congratulatory celebration as somewhat premature. Finding, however, that it could not be prevented, they prudently gave in, and determined to take part in the pageant.

It was arranged, that, should the weather prove unfavourable on the 25th, the celebration should be deferred till the day following. Nor was this precaution unwise. The morning of the appointed day was as unpropitious, as the most strenuous advocate of legitimacy could have desired. The rain came down in torrents; the streets were flooded ankle-deep; and I could not help feeling strong compassion for a party of militia, with a band of music, who, with doleful aspect, and drenched to the skin, paraded past the hotel, to the tune of Yankee Doodle. But the morning following was of better promise: the rain had ceased, and though cold and cloudy, it was calm.

About 10 o'clock, therefore, I betook myself to a house in Broad

way, to which I had been obligingly invited, to see the procession. During my progress, every thing gave note of preparation. The shops were closed, and men in military garb, and others decorated with scarfs and ribbons, were seen moving hastily along to their appointed stations. On approaching the route of the procession, the crowd became more dense, and the steps in front of the houses were so completely jammed up with human beings, that it was with difficulty I reached the door of that to which I was invited.

Having at length effected an entrance, I enjoyed the honour of introduction to a large and very pleasant party, so that, though a considerable time elapsed before the appearance of the pageant, I felt no inclination to complain of the delay. At length the sound of distant music reached the ear; the thunder of drums, the contralto of the fife, the loud clash of symbols, and first and farthest heard, the spirit-stirring notes of the trumpet. ἵππων μὲ ἀκυπόδων ἀμφὶ κτύπος οὔατα βάλλει

On they came, a glorious cavalcade, making heaven vocal with sound of triumph, and earth beautiful with such colouring as nature never scattered from her pictured

urn.

And first appeared, gorgeously caparisoned, a gallant steed bestrode by a cavalier, whose high and martial bearing bespoke him the hero of a hundred fights. The name of this chieftain I was not fortunate enough to learn. Next passed a body of militia, who, if they wished to appear as unlike soldiers as possible, were assuredly most successful. Then came the trades. Butchers on horseback, or drawn in a sort of rustic arbour or sham.

bles, tastefully festooned with sausages. Tailors, with cockades and breast-knots of ribbon, pacing to music, with banners representative of various garments, waving proudly in the wind. Blacksmiths, with forge and bellows. Caravans of coblers most seducingly apparelled, and working at their trade on a locomotive platform, which displayed their persons to the best advantage. And carpenters too, but the rest must be left to the imagination of the reader; and if he throw in a few bodies of militia, a few bands of music, and a good many most outré and unmilitarylooking officers, apparelled in uniforms apparently of the last century, he will form a very tolerable idea of the spectacle.

I must not, however, omit to notice the fire-engines, which formed a very prominent part of the procession, it fortunately happening that no houses were just at that moment in conflagration. These engines were remarkably clean and in high order, and being adorned with a good deal of taste, attracted a large share of admiration. Altogether, it really did seem as if this gorgeous pageant were interminable, and, like a dinner in which there is too large a succession of courses, it was impossible to do equal justice to all its attractions. In the latter case, the fervour with which we demonstrate our approbation of one dish, forces us to disregard the charms of another. And thus it was, that I, fervent in my admiration of the butchers, was, in due course, charmed with the carpenters, and subsequently smitten with the singular splendour of the saddlers. But another and another still succeeded, till the eye and tongue of the spectator became literally bankrupt in applause. Est

modus et dulci; in short, there was too much of it, and one could not help feeling, after three hours of incessant admiration, how practicable it was, to become satiated with pomp, as well as with other good things.

But the procession did, at length, pass, and I walked on to Washington-square, in which the ceremonies of the day were to conclude with the delivery of a public oration. On arriving, I found that a large stage, or hustings, had been erected in the centre of the square. Above this stage rose another smaller platform, for the accommodation of the high functionaries of the state and city. As even the advanced guard of the procession had not yet given signal of its approach, it was evident that some delay must occur, and I therefore accepted an invitation to one of the houses in the square, where I found a very brilliant eoncourse of naval and military officers, and other persons of distinction. Among these was the venerable ex-president Munroe. It was, of course, not without interest that I gazed on an individual who had played so distinguished a part during the most perilous epoch of American history. He was evidently bent down by the united inroads of age and infirmity; and it was with regret I learned, that to those afflictions, which are the common lot of humanity, had been added those of poverty. The expression of Mr. Munroe's countenance was mild, though not, I thought, highly intellectual. His forehead was not prominent, yet capacious and well defined. His eye was lustreless, and his whole frame emaciated and feeble. It was gratifying to witness the respect paid to this aged statesman by all who approached

him; and I was delighted to hear the loud demonstrations of reverence and honour, with which his appearance in the street was hailed by the crowd.

Mr. Munroe being too feeble to walk even so short a distance, was conveyed to the hustings in an open carriage. His equipage was followed by a cortège of functionaries on foot; and, accompanying these gentlemen, I was admitted without difficulty to the lower platform, which contained accommodation for about a hundred. Having arrived there, we had still to wait some time for the commencement of the performance, during which some vociferous manifestations of disapprobation were made by the mob, who were prevented from approaching the hustings by an armed force of militia. At length, however, a portly gentleman came forward, and read aloud the address to the French inhabitants of New York, which had been passed at a public meeting. In particular, I observed that his countenance and gestures were directed towards a party of gentlemen of that nation, who occupied a conspicuous station on the stage beneath him. The document was too wordy and prolix, and written in a style of ambitious elaboration, which I could not help considering as somewhat puerile.

While all this was going forward on the hustings, the crowd without were becoming every instant more violent and clamorous; and a couple of boys were opportunely discovered beneath the higher scaffolding, engaged, either from malice or fun, in knocking away its supports, altogether unembarrassed by the consideration, that had their efforts been successful, they must themselves have been inevitably crushed in the fall of the platform.

Notwithstanding these désagrémens, the orator-a gentleman named Governor-came forward with a long written paper, which he commenced reading in a voice scarcely audible on the hustings, and which certainly could not be heard beyond its limits. The crowd, in consequence, became still more obstreperous. Having, no doubt, formed high anticipations of pleasure and instruction from the inspiration of this gentleman's eloquence, it was certainly provoking, to discover, that not one morsel of it were they destined to enjoy. The orator was, in consequence, addressed in ejaculations by no means complimentary, and such cries as "Raise your voice, and be damned to you!"-" Louder!"

Speak out!"-" We don't hear a word!" were accompanied by curses which I trust were not deep, in proportion either to their loudness or their number. In vain did Mr. Governor strain his throat, in compliance with this unreasonable requisition, but Nature had not formed him either a Hunt or an O'Connell, and the ill-humour of the multitude was not diminished.

At length order seemed at an end. A number of the mob broke through the barricade of soldiers, and, climbing up the hustings, increased the party there in a most unpleasant degree. But this was not all. The dissatisfied crowd below thought proper to knock away the supports of the scaffolding, and just as Mr. Governor was pronouncing a most emphatic period about the slavery of Ireland, down one side of it came with an alarming crash. Fortunately some gentlemen had the good sense to exhort every one to remain unmoved; and from a prudent compliance with this precaution, I believe little in

jury was sustained by any of the party. For myself, however, being already somewhat tired of the scene, the panic had no sooner ceased, than I took my departure.

Altogether, I must say, that the multitude out of earshot had no great loss. The oration appeared a mere trumpery tissue of florid claptrap, which somewhat lowered my opinion with regard to the general standard of taste and intelligence in the American people. On the whole, the affair was a decided failure. What others went to see I know not; but had I not anticipated something better worth looking at, than a cavalcade of artisans mounted on cart-horses, and dressed out in tawdry finery, or the burlesque of military display by bodies of undrilled militia, I should probably have staid at home. I do not say this in allusion to any deficiency of splendour in the pageant itself. A republic can possess but few materials for display, and in the present case I should not have felt otherwise, had the procession been graced by all the dazzling appendages of imperial grandeur. In truth, I had calculated on a sight altogether different. I expected to see a vast multitude animated by one pervading feeling of generous enthusiasm; to hear the air rent by the triumphant shouts of tens of thousands of freemen, hailing the bloodless dawn of liberty, in a mighty member of the

I

brotherhood of nations. As it was, witnessed nothing so sublime. Throughout the day, there was not the smallest demonstration of enthusiasm on the part of the vast concourse of spectators. There was no cheering, no excitement, no general expression of feeling of any sort; and I believe the crowd thought just as much of France as of Morocco,-of the Cham of Tartary, as of Louis Philippe, king of the French. They looked and laughed indeed at the novel sight of their fellow-tradesmen and apprentices tricked out in ribbons and white stockings, and pacing, with painted banners, to the sound of music. But the moral of the display, if I may so speak, was utterly overlooked. The people seemed to gaze on the scene before them with the same feeling as Peter Bell did on a primrose; and it was evident enough-if, without irreverence, I may be permitted to parody the fine words of the noblest of contemporary poets-that in the unexcited imagination of each spectator,

A butcher on his steed so trim,
A mounted butcher was to him,
And he was nothing more.

Such was the source of my disappointment in regard to this splendid festivity. How far it was reasonable, others may decide. I can only say I felt it.

I went, accompanied by a friend, to see the state-prison at Charleston, near Boston. The interesting description given by Captain Hall of the prison at Sing-Sing had

raised my curiosity, and I felt anxious to inspect an establishment, conducted on the same general principle, and with some improvements in detail. It was difficult

to conceive, that a system of discipline so rigid could be maintained, without a degree of severity revolting to the feelings. That hun dreds of men should live together for years in the daily association of labour, under such a rigorous and unbroken system of restraint, as to prevent them during all that period from holding even the most trifling intercourse, seemed a fact so singular, and in such direct opposition to the strongest propensities of human nature, as to require strong evidence to establish its credibility. I was glad to take advantage, therefore, of the first opportunity to visit the prison at Charleston and the scene there presented was unquestionably one of the most striking I have ever witnessed. Pleasant it was not; for it cannot be so to witness the degradation and sufferings of one's fellow

creatures.

;

In no part of the establishment, however, was there any thing squalid or offensive. The gaoler-one expects hard features in such an official-was a man of mild expression, but of square and sinewy frame. He had formerly been skipper of a merchantman, and it was impossible to compliment him on the taste displayed in his change of profession. Before proceeding on the circuit of the prison, le communicated some interesting details in regard to its general management, and the principles on which it was conducted.

The prisoners amounted to nearly three hundred; the keepers were only fourteen. The disparity of force, therefore, was enormous; and as the system adopted was entirely opposed to that of solitary confinement, it did, at first sight, seem strange that the convictsthe greater part of whom were

men of the boldest and most abandoned character should not take advantage of their vast physical superiority, and, by murdering the keepers, regain their liberty. A cheer,-a cry,-a signal, would be enough; they had weapons in their hands, and it required but a momentary effort of one-tenth of their number to break the chains of perhaps the most galling bondage to which human beings were ever subjected.

In what then consisted the safety of the gaoler and his assistants? In one circumstance alone. In a surveillance so strict and unceasing, as to render it physically impossible, by day or night, for the prisoners to hold the slightest communication without discovery. They set their lives upon this cast. They knew the penalty of the slightest negligence, and they acted like men who knew it.

The buildings enclose a quadrangle of about two hundred feet square. One side is occupied by a building, in which are the cells of the prisoners. It contains three hundred and four solitary cells, built altogether of stone, and arranged in four stories. Each cell is secured by a door of wrought iron. On the sides where the cell-doors present themselves, are stone galleries, three feet wide, supported by cast-iron pillars. These galleries extend the whole length of the building, and encircle three sides. of these ranges of cells. The fourth presents only a perpendicular wall, without galleries, stairs, or doors. Below, and exterior to the cells and galleries, runs a passage nine feet broad, from which a complete view of the whole can be commanded.

The cells have each a separate ventilator. They are seven feet