endeavouring, while I sipped it, smoked a cigar, and read the _Courier
and Inquirer_, to forget the scene I had just witnessed. Leaving soon
after, I pursued my way down Broadway, passing Peel's Museum and the
Astor House, to the Battery Marine Promenade. This is a delightful spot,
the finest in point of situation (although not in extent) of the kind I
ever saw, the Esplanade at Charleston in South Carolina, of which I
shall have by-and-by to speak more particularly, being excepted.

Ladies and gentlemen were promenading up and down, under the umbrageous
foliage of the lofty trees which skirt the Battery Park, and which were
as yet unscathed by the recent frosts, forming a delightful retreat from
the scorching rays of an American sun. The sea view from this point,
with the adjacent scenery, is interesting and attractive; the broad
expanse of ocean in the distance, the highlands looming in the
perspective, the numerous aquatic birds skimming the surface of the
estuary, and the picturesque fort and woody shores of New Jersey, all
tending to diversify the scene and add to its natural beauty. I
afterwards visited this place over and over again, and every succeeding
visit added to my admiration and enhanced its attractions. To the left
lies, in panoramic grandeur, the harbour, literally teeming with ships
of all sizes and all nations; while, on the right, the entrance of the
majestic Hudson or north river, with crowds of magnificent steamers,
traders to Troy, Albany, and the West, forms a prominent feature in that
direction. The passing and repassing of steamers and other vessels of
home-traffic, and the more exciting arrival of ships from foreign parts,
give a zest to the scene which must be witnessed to be fully
appreciated.

A day or two after, having obtained, through a friend, leave of
admission, I crossed over to Brooklyn, and visited the Navy-yard. The