DESCRIPTION" OF THE CUT OF WASHINGTON.

New Zealand Herald, Volume I, Issue 136, 20 April 1864, Page 4

DESCRIPTION" OF THE CUT OF WASHINGTON.

Acoisru.s de Sala, the '' Special Commissioner" of tho London JJuily Tekyriip/i, thua graphically descibea tho city of Washington :—

I have been endeavour for many hours, but with different success, to determine in my own inind what Washington is like. Tliat it resembles in any wuv tho metropolis of a great, powerful, and wealthy commonweaitli can at once, without much fear of contradiction, be denied. It contains, certainly, soiuo noble public buildings, but they me scattered far and wide, with all kinds of incongruous environments, producing upon tiie 511-angur a perplexed impression that the bntish Jluseuni has suddenly migrated to tho centre ol ail exhausted brickiiehl, where rubbish may be shot; or that St. Paul's Cathedral, washed quite white, and stuck upon stone st:lcs, nas been transferred to tiie centre 01 the great desert of Sahara, and calie.i a Capitol. Th"i'e is A perpetual solution ol continuity at Washington. There is no cohesion about Penn-sylvania-avenue; its houses are as Hudibras story of tiie bear and tiie fiddle—begun and broke off iii tho u.idiile. It is an architectural conundrum winch wj body can guess, and in which I candidly believe thers is no meaning. The Yitruviuses and Palladios of America have perpetrated a v;ftt practical joke, and called it Washington. There is 110 begiumng, 110 centre, and no end to Washington. It is tho most bogus of towns-—a shin-piaater in bricks and lnortur aim marble. Tiie peopio seem to b» very fond of budding houses, but when t.iey have run up three or lour store\s which threaten to attain the aitituilo of the Tow er of Isabel, t lie confusion of tongues sets in; the builders abandon their work: but, uotliing disheartened, erect three or four storeys ot fresh houses elsewhere. It is said of those patrons of the drama who habitually avuii themselves of half-price, that they have seen nothing but itiuatimKuls. Washington, 011 the contrary, is u collection of Ih'.-t acts without any catasttopnes. It presents a converse to ilerciitio's description of Ills wound : its avenues are as deep its wells, aud its blocks as w ide as church doors; but they do not serve any purpose that I am aware of. Washington will be, when completed, the most mag nilicent city 011 this side of tiie Atlantic, but it is not begun yet. We arestili at the soup and fish, and aie have not got to the Urst cjtt/'ce. Never was there so interminable an overture. "Two piastres more", cries the Arab funambulist, umvortjuly parodied bv the London street mountebank, " and tne ass shail itscend tho ladder." iiut those piastres tire never lortiicoming, and the donkey never goes up. Onlv two hundred millions of dollars more, and two hundred thousand inhabitants, or thereabouts, and Wellington would be able to rival the Kmpire City and the Crescent City, and and all tiie otner cities to wliich tiie Americans nave given, to uso the diction of Jit. Arleinus Ward, " maguolius and spanglorious" appellatives. I't-iuleute Washington doesn't precisely languish, but it wallows in the dust, liko an eel in a sand-basket, 'delicious wjien fried orjstewed, but sligiitly repulsive to the sight before ho is skinned and cooked. Wiislungton will be, I have no doubt, some day uproariously oplundid; but at present it isn t anything. It is in the LUstriet of Columbia and the Statu of tne Future.

Ami yet I must, for the sake of those who will never probably visit this rumbling of streets without houses, and houses without .streets, liken it to something. Well, it is like a jumbled-up collection oi' toy villages .seen through the operaglass ot the King oi'lJrobainguag. Again, it is not unlike the Old Kent-road, grown out of all patience. Stay, it i.> like Brentford run mud, with a dash of iiigiigale out of its wits, and a spice of IJamet at tho i'au* tiiiie—lor ragged is here abundant— the whole mingled with llolborn-liiil, and set in the midst of S;disburv Plain. After tiiis imagine a to/iodo/n.i of Canterbury I talis and dancing saloons, government oiliees and old clothes shops, "j>ath and vJheltennum-private mansions and log cabins, oysters*, negroes?, largebeer, mules, oxen, waggons-, dnv-roon.-, ladies in crinolines, and loafers in "sit on *em" h;il.% and the very faiutest notion of "Washington may begin to dawn upon you.

\\ illard s Hote], notwithstanding, is a wonderful place. Opinions may ditfer as to the amount oi personal comfort to be obtained there, and it is by no means rare to hear Americans assert the preferability ol private lodgings over the huge, noisv, caravanserai ol (Jongressopolis. There is a drawback, however, tu giving practical effect to such a preference, inasmuch as private aj>nrtment.s are «dl but impossible to procure. Our cousins are not ;i lodging-letting people. -Urs. Lirripor would not be at iioiue hero Tiie omnivorous lodging-house cat is an animal happily unknown to tue Buttons and Cuviers ol" the States. To keep an liotel, indeed, or a hotel, as grammatical precisians on this side persist on the word being pronounced, is accounted a grand, wise, and beautiful thing; and next to the President of the United States, the Commander of the Army of the Potoinic, the conductor of i railway ear, and the editor ot the A etc \ork Ji.mcklt-duxtcr, X have very little doubt that an hotel-keeper is, about as remarkable and important a personage as can be met '.*ith in a country where nine out of every ten individ wis you meet are presumedly rumakable and contend!)" important, luumay keepu boarding-house,too,with-ouiderogating to any great extent iroin your dignity; althougn as a rule, a lady who takes commands more respect tha'n a male engaged in the same vocation "would do ; but you musn't let lodgings it is ** mean and above all human frailties, the Americans, to their honour, abhor meanness. Thus, iailing furnished lodgings and a " man of the house," or, worse still, a Megaira who lives on lier lodgers, \\ ill<-u*d 's becomes in most cases Hobson's choice. " 1 have stayed at Yv'illard's tor twenty yeavs," an acquaintance* recently remarked, and for twenty I have declared that t would never go to W iliard s again.*' There are two or three morn ostensibly hotels, but virtuallv there is but one step irom \\ illard's to the niost comfortless and the groggiest taverns. So you go to Willard's and grumble, or else grin, shrug \\-ur shoulders, «nd bear the heat, Uie noise, the dust, the Miioke. thu expectoration, the scramble tor eatables, anil the struggle ibr drinkables, precisely as vou happen to be a philosopher orotherwi>e. Alter all, it is something to be continually jostling senators in the hall and members oi the House of .Representatives on the You can scarcely fad either to gain some salutary insight into the practical equality which m many instances marks Auiericun society; for neitiier senator nor representative, Governor of » State, nor LTener.il in the urmv, millionaire, merchant, nor roving English dandy, is a bit better off or treated with one whit mole deference at \V illard's than the roughest specimen of a bapuau in the dry goods, line, or tho poorest suitor tor Government employment who lias come up toW asi>iugton witii the hope of getting a consulate and would be glad to get a lighthouse.