contributed to the carrying on of the war with spirit, affording by its action and success a powerful illustration of the vigour with which voluntary associations can be worked in America. That there was still in New York a strong party which by no means belonged to the Union League Club or approved of the principles of the association, however, we had reason to suspect from the manner in which our announcement that we were going to the Ladies' Reception there was received by some of our American acquaintances. At one of the several clubs of which our party were made honorary members during our stay in the city, I happened, the same night, to ask a gentleman with whom I was speaking, "Have you been at the Union League Club Reception?" "Union League! What on earth would take me or any one there who could go anywhere else? No, sir! I should be very sorry to meet a friend of mine inside that sort of place." It was, I suppose, like asking a member of Brooks's if he went much to the City Conservative, or a Carlton man if he was going to the Cavendish, but that sort of knowledge which enables people to avoid social rocks does not come but by experience.

Long as the day, and trying as our experiences had been, our labours were not yet over. The Duke's fame as an amateur of fire-engine work had been proclaimed and insisted upon in the American papers, and it would be difficult to say whether an ordinary reader thought the principal object of his Grace's visit was to buy railway shares or land, or to put out fires in the United States. If there is any one of the many things of which Americans are proud, that they take more pride in than another, it is their Fire Department. And their pride is not at all diminished by the reflection that fires are perhaps more frequent and destructive in the United States than in any country in the world, not even excepting Russia.

Mr. Butler Duncan had arranged before dinner that we should visit a fire-station; but it was understood that no warning should be given, and that we were to take any station near at hand à l'improviste. Accordingly we went from one of the clubs down Fifth Avenue, and turned up a cross street to a house not distinguishable from those on either side of it, except by a lamp and the name and number of the station. On the ringing of a bell the door was opened by a man in a kind of uniform, and we were shown into a hall occupying the whole of the ground floor, in the centre of which there was a fire-engine and tender, and at one side stalls, in which four horses were peaceably nibbling their fodder by gas-light. The officer in charge summoned his chief, who came downstairs partly dressed, and who, when made acquainted with the desires of his visitors, quickly set to work to carry them out. On his pressing a brass knob in the side of the wall, we heard the clang of an alarm-bell, and in a second or two, down the stairs, pell-mell, there came a gang of firemen, who had evidently been sleeping in their boots and breeches, and who were hastily buttoning their coats as they descended. In the twinkling of an eye they were in their places on the fire-engine and the horses trotted out and placed themselves in position of their own accord, so that by an electric arrangement the harness was lowered on their backs from the ceiling, and secured in a moment. The gate in the wall was thrown open in front to the street, and out dashed the engine ready for work. All this was exceedingly well done. The Duke was so pleased with it that the experiment was repeated again, and we retired thanking the courteous chief of the establishment for the trouble he had taken, and with the conviction that if they do not always put out fires in New York, it is not owing to any deficiency in the speed with which the engines are turned out of the stations, or the efficiency of the Fire Department.

April 27th.—The early morning was devoted to a stroll down Fifth Avenue and Broadway, and then we returned to the hotel and gave some time to the consideration of the plans for the journey which was to be made to the Far West, and to the details of the excursions which had been arranged before we left England. We had "friends in council," and it says a good deal for the care and forethought with which the expedition had been sketched out that but very few alterations, and those of a trifling character, were necessary in the programme. The hall of the Brevoort House was still thronged with gentlemen desirous of interviews with the new-comers, or verifying the descriptions of them in the newspapers.

In the forenoon we were conducted to the Elevated Railway, and took our places in the special train which started from a station in a cross street close to the Brevoort House, off the Fifth Avenue. I am not going to be the world's policeman, or to inveigh against a mode of conveyance which is tolerated by the people most affected by it; but as I travelled along this extraordinary construction, I could not but feel, as I inadvertently looked into a long series of private interiors, through the open windows on a level with me, and beheld the domestic arrangements of family after family carried out under my eyes, that I was taking a great liberty with private life. Here, drawn by an engine which in common with the carriages distilled oil plentifully on the road below, at a height varying from 20 to 40 feet, was I being borne along in the middle of streets thronged with people and filled with vehicles, looking into drawing-rooms or third-floor windows as I travelled. In a city elongated for miles as New York is, the convenience, no doubt, is very great; but I fail to see why the railway should not have been made on the plan of our own Metropolitan underground system. The speed, in spite of the numerous stoppages, was very respectable, more than 15 miles an hour; but we were retarded from time to time by the trains in advance of us. Wonderful was it to see them gliding round the sharp curves as the line pursued its sinuous course through the streets like a monster millipede. At some parts of its career the railway seems to run right over the pavements, and if the passers-by are not careful, they may receive some of the disjecta of the carriages on their clothes and faces; indeed I am not sure that any amount of care would prevent that sometimes occurring. The remarks which I made to one of the railway officials respecting the inconvenience to which the railway must subject the people living in the houses on either side of it, were met by the statement that "the rents had not diminished." The case of a householder who brought an action against the Company for damages and got a verdict in his favour was not regarded with much favour, and was, I was told, not likely to become a precedent, inasmuch as the final appeal did not lie with the court in which the judgment had been entered; and it was the intention of the company to carry the cause to a higher jurisdiction, where their contention that they had right to cause inconvenience to the few on account of the benefit of the many would be accepted, probably, as good morality and law. To my mind, however, nothing but hard necessity could compel people to live under such conditions as those to which the inhabitants of the houses exposed to the nuisance of the Elevated Railway must submit. It is not alone that they are under incessant inspection of the passengers if they keep blinds and windows up or open, but that the noise and whirl must be distracting. A train passes every minute, I was told, during the hours of business. There are two of these elevated railways, one going east from the Battery to Harlem, the other west from the same starting-point to Fifty-Ninth Street. The Metropolitan line starts from a point near West Broadway to the Central Park. The line on