MRS. CHILD ' S LETTERS FROM NEW YORK.

MRS. CHILD, who is known as an American authoress, is, we believe, a Bostonian by birth, whom circumstances carried to New York, and detained there, in the years 1841-42 and '43. During this period, she wrote the letters before us, apparently to a friend, but probably only to one of those convenient abstractions whom an author can always create to receive his lucubrations.

The merits of Mrs. CHILD as a writer are, great elegance and fluency of style, with an easy command of language, and a good deal of amiable feeling,—if the last be not rather a holyday senti- ment than a healthy pulsation ; for, sooth to say, there is a mixed air of the theatre and the charitable meeting about some of the instances, which indicate an effort for effect. The faults of the Letters are those which are common to American writers in general —a want of matter, reality, and repose. The book is rather a series of essays or rhapsodies expressive of Mrs. Climb's opinions and feelings, than a description of the features of New York and its population. Some of the letters are merely outpourings upon particular subjects, that could have been written anywhere—as the epistle containing Mrs. CHILD'S views of Woman's Rights, or Animal Magnetism, or her lucubration on Flowers. Many others. though indebted to New York or its vicinity for the subject, are rather a reverie upon what the subject suggests than a description of things or persons ; and even in the more substantial letters, diction displaying sentiments or notions exceeds beyond all pro- portion words representing images or conclusions. Facts and descriptions may no doubt be lbund, some of them characteristic in themselves, and all agreeably written ; but the real as it exists does not form above one fifth of the book, whilst the remainder consists of Mrs. CHILD'S eloquent effusions. Her being native and to the manner born may have prevented her from seeing points in New York that would have struck strangers; or if she saw them, she made the mistake of considering them less in- teresting than her own reflections. One, however, is indicated by her sentimentalism—that a considerable amount of misery from dirt and poverty exists in New York, perhaps as much as in Lon- don in proportion to the extent of the two capitals.

Reality is sometimes imparted to the Broadway eloquence of our authoress by its being employed on questions in which she takes an interest. Thus, she is an Anti-Slavery person ; is opposed to the punishment of death; conceives mankind may be regenerated by education and an extension of the law of love ; with a variety of other views, sometimes practical sometimes mystical. These often give more purpose to her lucubrations than they would otherwise possess ; and sometimes her sex enables her to elicit a truth or a point that a man could not have done so truly. There is nicety of feminine observation here.

PUBLIC CHILDREN.

At Long Island Farms I found six hundred children, supported by the public. It gives them wholesome food, comfortable clothing, and the common rudiments of education. For this it deserves praise. But the aliment which the spirit craves, the public has not to give. The young heart asks for love— yearns for love—but its own echo returns to it through empty halls, instead of answer.

The institution is much lauded by visiters, and not without reason; for every thing looks clean and comfortable, and the children appear happy. The drawbacks are such as inevitably belong to their situation, as children of the public. The oppressive feeling is, that there are no mothers there. Every thing moves by machinery, as it always must with masses of children, never

subdivided into families. Iii one place, 1 saw a stack of small wooden guns,

and was informed that the boy s were daily drilled to military exercises, as a useful means of forming habits of order, as well as fitting them fur the future service of the state. Their infant school evolutions partook of the same drill

character ; and as for their religion, I was informed that it was " beautiful to see them pray ; for at the first tip of the whistle, they all dropped on their

knees." Alas, poor childhood, thus doth " Church and State " provide for thee! The State arms thee with wooden guns, to play the future murderer, and the Church teaches thee to pray in platoons, "at the first tip of the whistle." Luckily they cannot drive the angels from thee, or most assuredly they would do it, pro bond public°. The sleeping-rooms were clean as a Shaker's apron. When I saw the long rows of nice little beds, ranged side by aide, I inquired whether there was not a merry buzz in the morning. " They are not permitted to speak at all in the sleeping apartments," replied the Superintendent. The answer sent a chill through my heart. I acknowledged that in such large establishments the most exact method was necessary, and I knew that the children had abundant op- portunity fur fun and frolic in the sunshine and the open fields, in the after part of the day ; but it is so natural for all young things to crow and sing when they open their eyes to the morning light, that I could not bear to have the cheerful instinct perpetually repressed.

The hospital for these children is on the neighbouring island of Blackwell. This establishment, though clean and well supplied with outward comforts, was the moat painful sight I ever witnessed. About one hundred and fifty children were there, mostly orphans, inheriting every variety of disease from vicious and sickly parents. In beds all of a row, or rolling by dozens over clean matting on the floor, the poor little pale, shrivelled, and blinded creatures were waiting for death to come and release them. Here the absence of a mother's love was most agonizing; not even the patience and gentleness of a saint could supply its place; and saints are rarely hired by the public. There was a sort of resignation expressed in the countenances of some of the little ones, which would have been beautiful in maturer years, but in childhood it spoke mournfully of a withered soul. It was pleasant to think that a large proportion of them would soon be received by the angels, who will doubtless let them sing in the morning.

The following specimen of city archaeology is pleasant, and the information may be new to many.

THE ANTIQUITIES OF NEW YORK.

The Bowery, with name so flowery, where the discord of a thousand wheels is overtopped by shrill street cries, was a line of orchards, and mowing-land, in rear of the olden city, called in Dutch, the Bouwery's, or Farms; and in popu- lar phrase, " The high-road to Boston." In 1631, old Governor Stuyvesant bought the " Bouwerys," (now so immensely valuable iu the market sense.) for 6,400 guilders, or 1,0661.; houses, barn, six cows, two horses, and two young Negro slaves, were included with the land. He built a reformed Dutch Church at his own expense, on his farm, within the walls of which was the family-vault. The church of St. Mark now occupies the saute site, and on the outside wall stands his original grave stone, thus inscribed: " In this vault lies buried Petrus Stuyvesant, late Captain-General and Commander-in-Chief of Amsterdam, in New Netherland, now called New York, and the Dutch West India Islands. Died August, A.D. 1682, aged 80 yeaArsp.'e'ar. tree stands without the wall, still vigorous, though brought from Holland, and planted there by the Governor himself. His family, still among the wealthiest of our city aristocracy, have preserved some curious memorials of their venerable Dutch ancestor. A portrait in armour, well-executed in Holland, probably while he was Admiral there, represents him as a dark-com- plexioned man, with strong bold features, and mustachios on the upper lip. They likewise preserve the shirt in which he was christened; of the finest Holland linen, edged with narrow lace.

IMPOSSIBILITY OF ROYALTY IN AMERICA.

" This Democratic experiment will prove a failure," said an old-fashioned Federalist; "before fifty years are ended, we shall be governed by a king in this country." "And where will you get the blood ? " inquired an Irishman, with earnest simplicity ; "sure you will have to send over the water to get some of the blood." Whereupon irreverent listeners laughed outright, and asked wherein a king's blood differed from that of an Irish ditch-digger. The poor fellow was puzzled. Could he have comprehended the question, I would have asked, " And if we could import the kingly blood, how could we import the sentiment of loyalty."

There is some keenness in the following examples of the effect of education and public opinion on the " victims of chance."

UNEQUAL WORKINGS OF MODERN EDUCATION.

Every thing in school-books, social remarks, domestic conversation, lite- rature, public festivals, legislative proceedings, and popular honours, all teach the young soul that it is noble to retaliate, mean to forgive an insult, and un- manly not to resent a wrong. Animal instincts, instead of being brought into snbjection to the higher powers of the soul, are thus cherished into more than natural activity. Of three men thus educated, one enters the army, kills a hundred Indians, hangs their scalps on a tree, is made Major-General, and con- sidered a fitting candidate for the Presidency. The second goes to the South- west to reside ; some " roarer " calls him a rascal—a phrase not misapplied, perhaps, but necessary to be resented ; he agrees to settle the question of honour at ten paces, shoots his insulter through the heart, and is hailed by society as a brave man. The third lives in New York ; a man enters his office, and, true or untrue, calls him a knave. He fights, kills his adversary, is tried by the laws of the land, and hung. These three men indulged the same pas- sion, acted from the same motives, and illustrated the same education ; yet how different their fate !

The following is an agreeable piece of description, and in- dicates more generosity and sensibility in the country population of the States than might be supposed to exist judging only from the towns.

MAJOR ANDReS TOMB AND EXHUMATION.

A very pleasant ride at sunset brought us to Orangetown, to the lone field where 31ajor Andre was executed. It is planted with potatoes, but the plough spares the spot on which was once his gallows and his grave. A rude heap of stones, with the remains of a dead fir-tree in the midst, are all that mark it ; but tree and stones are covered with names. It is on an eminence, command- ing a view of the country for miles. I gazed on the surrounding woods, and remembered that on this self-same spot, the beautiful and accomplished young man walked back and forth, a few minutes preceding his execution, taking an earnest farewell look of earth and sky. My heart was sad within me. Our guide pointed to a house in full view, at half a mile's distance, which he told us was at that time the head-quarters of General Washington. I turned my back suddenly upon it. The last place on earth where I would wish to think of Washington, is at the grave of Andre. • • • A few years ago, the Duke of York requested the British Consul to send the remains of Major Andre to England. At that time, two thriving firs were found near the grave, and a peach-tree, which a lady in the neighbourhood had planted there, in the kindness of her heart. The farmers, who came to wit- ness the interesting ceremony, generally evinced the most respectful tenderness for the memory of the unfortunate dead; and many of the women and children wept. A few idlers, educated by militia traininga, and Fourth of July decla- mation, begun to murmur that the memory of General Washington was in- sulted by any respect shown to the remains of Andre; but the offer of a treat lured them to the tavern, where they soon became too drunk to guard the cha- racter of Washington. It was a beautifnl day; and these disturbing spirits being removed, the impressive ceremony proceeded in solemn silence. The coffin was in goon preservation, and contained all the bones, with a small quan- tity of dust. The roots of the peach-tree had entirely interwoven the skull with their fine network. His hair, so much praised for its uncommon beauty, was tied, on the day of his execution, according to the fashion of the times. When his grave was opened, bast century afterwards, the riband was found in perfect preservation, and sent to his sister in England. When it was known that the sarcophagus containing his remains had arrived in New York, on its way to London, many ladies sent garlands and emblematic devices, to be wreathed around it, in memory of the "beloved and lamented Andre." In their compassionate hearts, the teachings of nature were unperverted by maxima of war, or that selfish jealousy which dignifies itself with the name of Patriotism. Blessed be God that custom forbids women to electioneer or light. May the sentiment remain till war and politics have passed away. Had not women and children been kept free from their polluting influence, the medium of communication between earth and heaven would have been com- pletely cut off. At the foot of the eminence where the gallows had been erected, we found an old Dutch farmhouse, occupied by a man who witnessed the execution, and whose father often sold peaches to the unhappy prisoner. He confirmed the account of Andre's uncommon personal beauty : and had a vivid remembrance of the pale but calm heroism with which he met his untimely death. Every thing about this dwelling was antiquated. Two pictures of George the Third and his Queen, taken at the period when we owed allegiance to them as "the government ordained of God," marked plainly the progress of art since that period; for the portraits of Victoria on our cotton-spools are graceful in com- parison. An ancient clock, which has ticked uninterrupted good time, on the same ground, for more than a hundred years, stood in one corner of the little parlour. It was brought from the East Indies by an old Dutch sea-captain, great-grandfather of the present owner. We might extend this class of extracts without difficulty ; but we have taken sufficient to show the character of the better parts of the Letters from New York.