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cast on the world's unholy shore! I never saw any of them without sorrow, excepting a little party of them who had been induced to join a “boys' meeting,” where their sharpened faculties seemed to enable them to apprehend meaning more easily, and more to enjoy intellectual occupation than some of their peers.

The stores are very handsome, and the reckless way in which masses of valuable goods are exposed to the sun inside, and to the dust outside, very surprising. Several of the stores occupy a whole block of buildings —a space large enough for five or six moderately sized houses. On some of these one's eye rests with peculiar complacency as the fruit of industry united with integrity. You may be told as you pass along—“ Look at that fine store. Its owner came here in debt-he and his family allowed themselves no indulgences, but all worked hard, till he was able to return to Scotland, assemble his creditors, and pay up principal and interest. Since then they have never looked behind them—all has gone well.” I worshipped repeatedly in the church with such a family, and used to turn and see them step out of their carriages with as loyal a heart to them as I have felt to our own beloved Queen, when I stayed to see her step out of hers.

Perhaps the very purest pleasure of all the delights afforded me in that whole city, was meeting with some of my countrymen, now thriving, cheerful, hospitable, loving—who but a few years before

were care-worn beings, who having strained every fibre to raise money to carry them, had crossed the ocean with much trembling. To mingle sympathies in their thankfulness, as had often been done in their cares and sorrows at home, seemed to me a treat that angels might relish. To be fanned in their rocking-chairs, refreshed by their fruits and iced water, to inquire all their histories, to play with their children, to go with them to church, and “see how like old Scotland it was,” yea, even to mingle tears with them at Greenwood Cemetery, over their honoured and departed dead, was a treat worth the trouble of a voyage across the Atlantic. But the citizens have made me forget the city.

Broadway is a perfect puzzle - how smaller and lighter crafts make undemolished way through that throng of omnibuses, is amazing. Many a street in London is as much crowded, but I do not suppose in any one, if you except the vicinity of the Crystal Palace at evening, you could count twenty omnibuses at a time within sight. Yet there is no pressing and driving - but cheerful, smiling courtesy, on all hands. We had occasion to cross from Jersey City on Christmas eve, when the roomy steamer could scarcely afford standing room for the welldressed throngs of artisans and their families who were crossing to be ready for to-morrow's holiday. How pleased they looked! How obliging! Giving way when they could, or expressing regret to one another if they could not. Not one tipsy shout

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not one staggering mortal—no wife or sister looking fearfully on her escort. Ah, Scotland! when will temperance do for thee what it has done for these crowded cities !

My companions on that evening urged me to look in on Washington market—and it was a goodly sight. One does not care about the piles of food—such masses are to be seen in many a city in nearly equal quantity—it was the purchasers who drew my attention. The goodwife laden with cheese, and beef, and ham, and vegetables, and butter, and candles. The children clustering around, helping to carry her load of plum-cakes or currant-loaves, and her bunch of evergreen. The men, in blue blouses, or with blue trowsers over others, to preserve them from the lime or tar they had been working in all day, swinging along a huge turkey by the legs, its head knocking on the pavement as they went, while a lump of bacon filled the other hand. No wonder that brother Jonathan is vaunty and boastful—he has all the inspirations of prosperity and hope. And then to discern many an Irish countenance among these purchasers of viands, poor fellows! who never saw a turkey without its feathers in their lives, until they left “ould Ireland;” and to think the luxury could be had by honest working for it—it made one's heart happy.

The various devices employed for thrusting their business into notice, strikes one as new. Pillars erected on the verge of the pavement are stuck over

with instructions about oyster cellars, and barbers, and all sorts of eatables and wearables. The very boxes that protect the trees are covered with bills nailed, not pasted on. Flags under your feet have the name and trade of the occupant of the neighbouring store carved on them. Movable placards against walls and lamp-posts tell of places of amusement. These, I am sorry to say, are not withdrawn, or rather new ones are put forth, on the Lord's day, and often you may see the thoughtless, who have just quitted the sanctuary, turn round at the door of a theatre to read what can be had to divert them on the morrow. But the style of attracting notice, which gives a tattered and disorderly aspect to streets otherwise handsome, is the huge cotton flags stretched across the centre, in the manner the lamps are suspended in some ancient European cities. These present letters of gigantic size.

Before one of these I felt my feet arrested and my mind filled with emotions that referred to scenes and times far, far from the noise of Broadway. It was an announcement that Sir William Don would act for the public of New York every evening that week. Sir William Don! Newton Don! The scene of my children's happiest holidays. That thought came first. Mary Lundie's “ Hawthorn ” gathered there

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A thousand happy voices
Advance to bid it hail;
Oh, how the bee rejoices

To scent it in the gale!” Has it come to this! Has this poor young man left those lovely glades to act the droll for the amusement of a foreign multitude? Then rose to mind the ancestral

cups which had once for some weeks graced our sideboard, that all the pastors who came and went might see them. A pair of ancient candlesticks they were in reality, with bottoms like an inverted bowl, of workmanship so rough, that the dimple marks of the hammer that had beaten the șilver into shape, were still discernible. These candlesticks had, nearly three hundred years ago, been inverted, and used as extempore communion-cups when Knox visited Glencairn, and for the first time dispensed the ordinance of the Supper in the Reformed Church to a group in the Castle hall. This heirloom of an ancient house has descended to a player! The blood of this Christian Earl of Glencairn flows still in the veins of that young actor! And has it come to this! On festival days, when the city is afloat with frolic,

will see little flags with the stars and stripes on the heads of horses, on the roofs of carriages, flying out of windows, and at Barnum's Museum, not only all around the house, but flaunting from it across the street on cords attached to the chimney-tops on the opposite side.

On a stormy day early in December, the coach

you

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