nothing but disappointment is felt. And I fear that there is no
look-out into the future which can justify a hope that the design
will be fulfilled. It is therefore a melancholy place. The society
into which one falls there consists mostly of persons who are not
permanently resident in the capital; but of those who were permanent
residents I found none who spoke of their city with affection. The
men and women of Boston think that the sun shines nowhere else; and
Boston Common is very pleasant. The New Yorkers believe in Fifth
Avenue with an unswerving faith; and Fifth Avenue is calculated to
inspire a faith. Philadelphia to a Philadelphian is the center of
the universe; and the progress of Philadelphia, perhaps, justifies
the partiality. The same thing may be said of Chicago, of Buffalo,
and of Baltimore. But the same thing cannot be said in any degree
of Washington. They who belong to it turn up their noses at it.
They feel that they live surrounded by a failure. Its grand names
are as yet false, and none of the efforts made have hitherto been
successful. Even in winter, when Congress is sitting, Washington is
melancholy; but Washington in summer must surely be the saddest spot
on earth.

There are six principal public buildings in Washington, as to which
no expense seems to have been spared, and in the construction of
which a certain amount of success has been obtained. In most of
these this success has been more or less marred by an independent
deviation from recognized rules of architectural taste. These are
the Capitol, the Post-office, the Patent-office, the Treasury, the
President's house, and the Smithsonian Institution. The five first
are Grecian, and the last in Washington is called--Romanesque. Had
I been left to classify it by my own unaided lights, I should have
called it bastard Gothic.