New York is probably the most cosmopolitan city in the world. To give an idea of it, I may tell you that there are newspapers published there in English, French, German, Russian, Italian, Spanish, Swedish, Dutch, Hungarian, Chinese, and Hebrew.
I received one day a circular of a meeting of the "Knights of Labour." It was printed in six different languages.
The streets are wide, bright, and animated; the shops handsome. In Broadway and Union Square the jewellers and confectioners flourish, pretty flower-shops abound: it is Paris, rather than London, without, however, being one or the other.
As I said before, there are no grand buildings to to invite one's gaze to rest; to rejoice the eyes, one must penetrate into the houses of the rich.
There is a small collection of pictures in the Museum in the Central Park; but most of the art treasures of America are to be found in private collections.
Boston (pronounced Boast'on) is quite an English city, handsomely and solidly built. It has a public garden in the centre, the effect of which at night is enchanting.
It is the most scholarly city of the United States—one of the greatest centres of erudition in the world.
Boston Society is less showy than that of New York, the women have, perhaps, less chic, but they have more colour in their faces and more repose in their manner.
Nothing is more diverting than to hear the dwellers in each great American town criticise the dwellers in the others. All these societies, each almost in its infancy as yet, are jealous one of another. At Boston, for instance, you will be told that the Chicago people are all pig-stickers and pork-packers. In Chicago, you will hear that Boston is composed of nothing but prigs and précieuses ridicules.