In sailing from Port Amboy

to New-York,
we picked up a good new boat, worth 10 or 12
guineas, which was drifting out to sea. Having
been so detained at Perth Amboy, and the wind
proving unfavourable, we did not arrive at New-
York until after dark. As the yellow fever had for
some time prevailed at New-York, I was desirous of
being put on shore at Brooklyn, on Long Island;
but, the night being dark with wind and rain, I
could not prevail upon the Captain of the packet
to land me; nor could I obtain a boat of any kind
to take me over. I was therefore under the neces-
sity of going to New-York, where all was silent
and solitary; and what used to be the busiest parts,
were now without an inhabitant to be seen.

Having landed at Quince's Wharf

, I went along
Water-street to the Fly-market wharf, hoping to
meet with the ferry-boat; but here likewise all was
silence and solitude. I then went through the
whole length of Fly-market, which had the ap-
pearance of having been untrodden for weeks past;
the light of some lamps shewing the boarded floor
to be as clean as that of a parlour. From the Fly-
market, I crossed Pearl-street, into Maiden-lane,
and went on to Broad-way, to the City Hotel, a
large spacious inn; where I was the only guest.
When I was here last, the house was crowded with
company; so much had this awful visitation varied
the scene in every part of this busy city. Some