In all such matters, however, New York is pre-eminently great. All
through the States suffering humanity receives so much attention
that humanity can hardly be said to suffer. The daily recurring
boast of "our glorious institootions, sir," always provokes the
ridicule of an Englishman. The words have become ridiculous, and
it would, I think, be well for the nation if the term "Institution"
could be excluded from its vocabulary. But, in truth, they are
glorious. The country in this respect boasts, but it has done that
which justifies a boast. The arrangements for supplying New York
with water are magnificent. The drainage of the new part of the
city is excellent. The hospitals are almost alluring. The lunatic
asylum which I saw was perfect--though I did not feel obliged to
the resident physician for introducing me to all the worst patients
as countrymen of my own. "An English lady, Mr. Trollope. I'll
introduce you. Quite a hopeless case. Two old women. They've
been here fifty years. They're English. Another gentleman from
England, Mr. Trollope. A very interesting case! Confirmed
inebriety."

And as to the schools, it is almost impossible to mention them with
too high a praise. I am speaking here specially of New York,
though I might say the same of Boston, or of all New England. I do
not know any contrast that would be more surprising to an
Englishman, up to that moment ignorant of the matter, than that
which he would find by visiting first of all a free school in
London, and then a free school in New York. If he would also learn
the number of children that are educated gratuitously in each of
the two cities, and also the number in each which altogether lack
education, he would, if susceptible of statistics, be surprised