the Battery northward multiply. In all that vast collec- tion of iron and masonry there are a few individual masses that are symmetrical, but these are lost in the great aggregation. Separate structures have been shot into the air as though impelled by some terrific volcanic agency, but there is no hint of any idea of relationship between them; they suggest rather the accidental huddling of more or less unrelated and even incon- PEAKS OF THE MANHATTAN RANGE Digitized by Microsoft® New Buildings and Old 37 gnious elements. The saw-tooth sky-line thus pro- duced does not add an element of beauty to the aspect of the city as seen from the river : on the contrary, the ragged, irregular procession of domes, pyramids, cones, spires, and bricks-on-end give an impression of wealth, power, aggressiveness, — of almost anything under heaven except taste and relationship. In all this mon- ster collection of buildings there is no suggestion of any community of interest. Every sky-scraper proclaims, as far as it can be seen, that it does not recognise any other sky-scraper except as a possible rival to be over- topped by the addition of several more stories or a cupola or two. It will seem to many people like heresy to affirm that New York from any point of view lacks beauty ; but it is sometimes a melancholy duty to cherish a heresy. THE CITY THAT HIDES MANHATTAN Digitized by Microsoft® 38 The Hudson River or even, upon occasion, to proclaim it. As a matter of opinion we hold that there are in the world several cities containing a fraction of the population and enter- prise and wealth of New York that are much more im- pressive in a perspective view. There are cities, and even small towns, that present themselves to the im- agination as units and are in their degree satisfying to that sane something within us that demands balance and proportion in art. They are at once comprehen- sive and comprehensible. But Manhattan is without a plan. Each building is a unit, sufficient unto itself, and the city is chaos. It is aside from the purpose of this book, and more fitting for a philosophical treatise, to suggest that there is something in the life and activity of the metropolis that conforms to its architectural sky-line. But mere size is impressive in its way, after all. The eye sweeps that line of jagged towers and dizzy pinnacles in search of food to satisfy the craving for the marvellous which is perhaps no more a modern than it was an ancient failing. We own to a feeling of exultation when we discover that the Park Row Building (that looks like the London Tower elongated) is three hundred and eighty — or is it ninety? — feet high, and that the Manhattan Life does not touch it by forty feet or more, though this in turn overtops the Cable, St. Paul, American Surety, Tract Society, World, Empire, Gillender, and all other three- hundred-footers, as they do such trumpery affairs as Digitized by Microsoft® New Buildings and Old 39 the Produce Exchange, BowHng Green, Equitable, etc. There is old Trinity spire, that we used to think was in danger of tearing the silver lining from the clouds with its heavenward-pointing tip. How dwarfed and in- significant it seems now among all its tall worldly neighbours! And yet, with the rush of a thousand thronging associations, how the eye seeks and dwells upon it, recognising in it a significance deeper and stronger than is suggested by all the iron mills and stone quarries of the land. However we may take exception to the superficial outline of the lower city, it would hardly be possible for one not born blind to be insensible to the glorious wealth of colour that commonly compensates for all other defects. What hues of cream and rose are there, with strong Venetian tones to balance dark masses of slaty blue; what gleams of yellow, and amber lights, and tints of green! Here a dome of gold and there a cloud of opalescent steam, catch the sunlight; and hundreds of smoke-jets soften and blend the warm, rich shades that meet and melt in purple mystery. But best of all is the marvellous transformation when night comes, and the chimneys are down, and the sky-line fades away. There are no drawbacks or incongruities then ; but the corruscation of uncounted lights — flashing galaxies, not of stars, but of constella- tions and firmaments of stars — render the scene one of indescribable beauty. Below the zone of white bril- liants there is that other, of coloured shore lights, Digitized by Microsoft® 40 The Hudson River fountains of emerald and ruby that overflow and paint the unresting wave-rims with serpentine hieroglyphs.