The bay of New York is a fine piece of water, studded with islands, and is usually first viewed with sensations of agreeable surprise. From its designation, I expected to find it presenting a semicircular form, like most other bays; but to the eye of an individual entering from the Atlantic, it assumes the appearance of a fine circular lake, about eight miles in diameter; and, I think, that term would describe it more correctly than the one adopted. In strict propriety, either is a misnomer—it is an estuary. This magnificent sheet of water, by whatever name it may be known, is bounded on the north by Manhatten Island, on the southern extremity of which stands the city of New York.

It was just before sun set, on a delightful evening in the month of October, allowed to be, by far the pleasantest period of a transatlantic year, when we approached this commercial metropolis of the New World. Here the atmosphere like that of Italy, is extremely clear; it imparts a charming lustre to the surrounding landscape, and clothes the scenery with an appearance of inconceivable brilliancy. Under these advantages the prospect was most delightful. We seemed as if gently gliding over a sea of fluid gold. In the distance, guarded by unnumbered vessels stood the city, occupying a dignified station on the banks, and just at the point of confluence of two of the finest rivers in the world. These, the magnificent Hudson and the Eastern River, were seen pouring their tributary floods of liquid light, into the bosom of this splendid estuary. On the right, were the heights of Long Island—far off, on the left, was Jersey City, stationed on the coast to which it gives its name. The whole prospect, enriched by a pleasing variety of wood and water, and viewed through the bright medium of this clear atmosphere, rendered still more brilliant by the setting sun, combined to form a scene most enchantingly beautiful—too grand, indeed, for the most sanguine imagination to conceive.

My husband, with three of the other gentlemen, impatient at being detained at the quarantine ground, had embraced the opportunity offered by a passing steamer, of proceeding to the city before us; and, having made arrangements for our accommodation, was waiting to receive us. Those will sympathize with my feelings, on first setting foot on dry land, who, like myself, have endured five weeks’ confinement in a ship; which is indeed, nothing more than a floating prison, differing only from a stationary one, in the probable event of a general jail delivery by drowning.

Arrived at length and safely debarked, we soon found ourselves installed as inmates of a genteel boarding-house, at the upper end of Beekman-street, near the City Hall. On entering, I was a little surprised at the appearance of the rooms—being much better furnished, and presenting altogether a nobler air than I expected to find assumed by a mere boarding-house, in this far-away country. After we had forwarded our letters and refreshed ourselves, we retired to a comfortable bed room on dry land; rendered doubly grateful, after the tempestuous tossings of the ocean, and the fatigue produced by this day of excitement.

The next morning we all arose early, and with glowing expectations, set forward to perambulate the city. What strange sensations affect the mind of a stranger, on first entering a foreign city—what an air of novelty every thing appears to wear that the eye can rest upon! Every trifle attracts attention, and our desires for information appear as if they could never be satisfied.

This city of New York certainly is a noble place; it is divided into fourteen wards, and contains about three hundred thousand inhabitants. The houses are chiefly of red brick, and altogether its internal appearance fully justified the impressions produced by the outline of the previous night.

Broadway, as the principal street is called, is the leading feature, in point of position and fashionable attraction; it runs in a direct line, from south to north, through the heart of the city; and is, I believe, about five miles and a half in length: its southern extremity communicates with a fine promenade, leading to the south battery. This fort is situated at the southern extremity of the city, just at the termination of Manhatten Island, and at the point of confluence of the East and Hudson Rivers. Its position, as a place of pleasurable resort, is delightful; and from its commanding situation, it must, when required, form an excellent post of defence. Long may it continue to be the resort of the votaries of pleasure, rather than the theatre of military glory.

Broadway is the fashionable lounge for all the black and white belles and beaux of the city; its commodious and extensive pave, completely covered with neat awnings, forms as agreeable a promenade, as is to be found, perhaps, in any city in the world. Many a transatlantic poet has endeavoured to immortalize this noble walk, and its glittering pedestrians; but no one has succeeded in prevailing upon Pegassus to use the trottoir of Broadway.

Nearly parallel with Broadway, are several other streets, and these again are connected with others, which intersect them at right angles. The relative position of the streets in the old, or southern part of the city, is somewhat confused; but nothing can exceed the regularity with which the upper part is disposed, as a reference to the plan will sufficiently testify. Straightness is here the prevailing feature, which, although it preserves the uniformity entire, yet never displays street architecture so advantageously as the fine sweeping curve.

About a mile up Broadway, is the Park. This is a small enclosure of a few acres, encircled with an iron railing, divided into walks, planted with trees, furnished with seats, and made, every way as agreeable as it is possible to make a small oasis of verdure, situated in the centre of a populous city. At the upper end of the Park, stands the pride of New York—the City Hall. It is a fine marble structure certainly, but it did not strike me as possessing that magnificent appearance that I expected, from a building composed entirely of marble. But tastes differ. One of our company on this occasion, related an anecdote of an Irish gentleman, whom he had conducted round the city. After surveying several of the public buildings and many streets presenting architectural attractions, all of which the Irishman had dismissed in succession with this remark, “Very good indeed, but not like Dublin,”—he was suddenly brought within full view of the City Hall. The Hibernian appeared struck with astonishment, and unguardedly exclaimed, “But was this built here?”

There are several buildings of white marble in various parts of the city; some also of brick, handsomely faced with Jersey free-stone, which present a very genteel and substantial appearance. The air of newness pervading the whole city, never fails to arrest the attention of the stranger and excite admiration. Indeed, the whole of the buildings present so clean an exterior, that they seem as if just finished. This is accounted for by the absence of coal smoke, that impartial enemy to architectural beauty, in the “old country,” as they here term England.

Coal is here only burned by the opulent, and although fashion has declared in favour of its use, yet wood is the chief, and indeed, almost the only fuel consumed here; it is certainly much healthier and cleaner, than its sable substitute, but the matter of dollars and cents has its share of influence.

The number of superb houses is very great: though it must be confessed that, like the streets, their uniformity greatly detracts from the effect they would produce under other circumstances. They appear all to be built upon one plan; the chief feature of which is, that the dining and drawing rooms are situated on the lower floor, and so arranged, as by throwing open a large pair of folding doors, to form one splendid apartment. Their furniture is magnificent in the extreme. In this, as well as all other household embellishments, the natives pride themselves; and certainly they succeed to admiration in their attempts to produce a brilliant effect with slender materials.

The buildings for the celebration of public worship, are generally denominated “churches;” I conceive this uniformity of designation is caused by the absence of an established religion. St. Paul’s, in Broadway, a Protestant episcopal church, is the principal ecclesiastical edifice in the city. It is a plain modern structure composed of free-stone, with a steeple of the same material; the east end is ornamented by a colonnade, supporting a pediment enriched with a statue of St. Paul. The whole is well disposed, and produces an agreeable effect; but the interior is merely plain and neat, without any pretension whatever to splendour. This church has the advantage of a burial ground, a convenience somewhat questionable, and by no means general throughout the city.

All the other churches are composed of either brick or red granite, and appear to be erected without any design whatever to add to the beauty of the city. There are neither domes nor towers; the steeples are by no means lofty, and from the elevation of the surrounding dwellings, they seem lower than they are in reality. Each of these erections shelters one bell, or at most two; and when all these are in united operation on a Sunday morning, the universal clanking may be conceived to be any thing but harmonious.

Almost every sect and denomination of religion has its temple and its supporters; but it must be conceded, that the most respectable part of the citizens attend the Protestant episcopal churches; and the proportion in this city, is acknowledged to correspond with that of the larger towns in England.

There are two principal theatres, the Park and the Bowery; besides a number of minor ones, continually springing up and declining. The blacks, who are never behind in rivalling their superiors, contrive to keep open one, and sometimes two theatres; where the popular characters of Lady Macbeth, Juliet, the fair Desdemona, and others, are all some way sustained by the sable sisterhood. A lively inmate of our boarding-house, amused us one morning at breakfast, with an account of his last night’s entertainment at the black theatre, where a sable “Richard” was the point of attraction. In order to please his audience, the crooked-backed monarch politely accommodated his language to the meridian of the place: whenever the word “York” occurred, he invariably altered the text, and called it “New York!”—the “house of New York,” &c. In this instance, the ladies were personated by negresses!

Rents are here much higher than in London. On investigation, I suppose it would be found that the value of building ground in the lower part of this city, is exceeded by no area of equal dimensions in England—perhaps not in the world. The whole of the mercantile business is transacted in that part of the city, which lies below the Park. On inspecting the plan, the reader will perceive that the only direction in which land can be obtained, is upwards, that is to the north; and, as this is allowed by men of business, to be out of the market, the merchant must either have his offices below the City Hall, or be altogether excluded. The value of land in this section being exorbitantly increased by competition, and the desire of all who have business to transact to be as near the market as possible, joined to the scarcity of room, combine to raise the price of land to an extravagant height in every part of the city.

It is considered probable, that New York will at some future period, cover the whole of Manhatten Island. The village of Brooklyn, on the opposite coast of Long Island, and Jersey City, on the western bank of the Hudson, are also becoming very populous from their proximity to this grand market of the Union. A well regulated communication by steam is kept up with these two outports of commerce; a boat starts for the former every three minutes, and for the latter, every ten minutes during the day.

New York, is, beyond dispute, the first commercial city in the New World, and receives into its ports, vessels laden with the produce and manufactures of every quarter of the globe. But the retail department of trade is here conducted in a slovenly and most irregular manner; so much so that it is advisable for the buyer to be acquainted with the value of the article he intends to purchase, before he closes his bargain; or he will run the risk of paying a penalty proportionable to his ignorance.

Auction sales are here numerous beyond conception. Hence that part of the inhabitants having family establishments, and other extensive consumers, supply themselves from these, as frequently as possible. These sales are effected in the lower part of the city; and a red banner displayed, serves as an insigne of an auction sale in this city, as a spear answered the same purpose in ancient Rome.

It is true, that goods sold in this manner, are disposed of in very large quantities, as sales on this principle are expected to be frequented only by shop-keepers; but this difficulty is frequently obviated, by a few families uniting and entering into a reciprocal engagement, to make purchases as opportunities occur, of certain articles agreed upon by the compact. The high prices demanded in the shops, almost compel the public to resort to this expedient in self defence.

Some few however, make very odd kind of bargains at these sales. I remember one of our friends, a young gentleman, purchasing at an auction three hundred fans! This reminded me of Moses, in the “Vicar of Wakefield,” and the gross of green spectacles: but simplicity is far from being fashionable in this part of the world, and poor Moses would have stood no better chance here, than in the hands of Ephraim Jenkinson.

There are, nevertheless, a vast number of good shops, and without doubt many are substantial and highly respectable; but still, I never could heartily admire their system of transacting business; it required an Englishwoman to be so provokingly cautious and suspicious, if she wished to prevent the Yankees from being “too smart” for her. A term they use triumphantly on every fresh display of low trickery.

Perhaps there are not, proportionably, a greater number of sharpers here than in London; but there is certainly a marked difference in the treatment they receive. The smile of approbation bestowed upon a clever villain, while relating his witty rogueries is shockingly misplaced; and in my opinion, evinces a species of moral cowardice. A severe castigation would serve the interests of society much more effectually. Indeed, it were better to lead the life of an anchoret at once, than to associate with such characters as I have seen admitted into the company of merchants, judges, and professional men. But, alas! the convenient excuse of “business purposes,” too often serves as a mantle to cover, if it cannot justify, a multitude of sins.

To my great surprise, on the other hand, I found the crime of smuggling held in utter abhorrence. I rejoice at this, and from all I observed, I think it would be exceedingly difficult to find an American that could be prevailed upon to engage in a smuggling transaction of ever so trivial a nature. To cheat “Uncle Sam,” as they term their government, is with them, a crime paramount! And they never fail to treat those foreigners with ineffable contempt, who are so perfidious as to defraud their own governments. I have heard instances of some of our British sharp fellows being sadly taken by surprise, through ignorance of this peculiarity of the national character.

Without hesitation, I allow that every species of villany ought to meet with the unmitigated condemnation of all just men. The question then naturally arises: How is it that those who regard roguery with such indifference, when practised on private individuals—nay, smile with approbation, if the transaction be associated with any thing witty—should single out the vice of smuggling, as the only one that deserves exclusive reprobation? I leave the question open; but the general opinion is, that as this crime is regarded by far too many on this side the Atlantic, as a venial offence, it is placed on the criminal code of “Uncle Sam,” through a pure love of opposition.

This appellation, “Uncle Sam,” is willingly acknowledged as the national soubriquet of the “free-born citizens of the United States,” while on the other hand, the terms, “Brother Jonathan” and “Yankee,” are considered highly offensive. As the origin of this favoured term is not generally known in England, I beg leave to insert a verbatim copy from an American newspaper, of the baptism of this independent personage, together with a description of his sponsors.

“Immediately after the declaration of the last war with England, Elbert Anderson, Esq. of this city, then a contractor, visited Troy, on the Hudson, where was concentrated, and where he purchased a large quantity of provisions—beef, pork, &c. The inspectors of these articles at that place were Messrs. Ebenezer and Samuel Wilson. The latter gentleman (invariably known as “Uncle Sam”) generally superintended in person a large number of workmen, who, on this occasion, were employed in overhauling the provisions purchased by the contractor for the army. The casks were marked E. A.—U. S. This work fell to the lot of a facetious fellow in the employ of the Messrs. Wilsons, who, on being asked by some of his fellow workmen the meaning of the mark (for the letters U. S. for United States were almost then entirely new to them,) said, “he did not know, unless it meant Elbert Anderson and Uncle Sam”—alluding exclusively, then, to the said “Uncle Sam” Wilson. The joke took among the workmen, and passed currently; and “Uncle Sam” himself being present, was occasionally rallied by them on the increasing extent of his possessions. Many of these workmen being of a character denominated “food for powder,” were found shortly after following the recruiting drum, and pushing toward the frontier lines, for the double purpose of meeting the enemy, and of eating the provisions they had lately laboured to put in good order. Their old jokes of course accompanied them, and before the first campaign ended, this identical one first appeared in print—it gained favour rapidly, till it penetrated and was recognised in every part of our country, and will, no doubt continue so long as U. S. remains a nation. It originated precisely as above stated; and the writer of this article distinctly recollects remarking, at the time when it first appeared in print, to a person who was equally aware of its origin, how odd it would be, should this silly joke, originating in the midst of beef, pork, pickle, mud, salt, and hoop-poles, eventually become a national cognomen.”