Not so with Orleans. Over her massive buildings and pretty streets, the veil of night is cast in vain! Anon a soft and yellow light issues from a thousand lamps, and tells that untiring man is still abroad. Has the merchant pored over his books the whole day, he at this happy hour sups his tea, and thinks in anticipation of Monsieur Malet's delightful party. Has the lawyer attended upon the courts and given audience to clients, he now forms plans for this night's amusement. Has the laborious editor written "copy" by the long hour until exhausted and fatigued, he now kicks the exchange papers under the table, throws aside his pen, and recals with delight the Orleans Theatre and the sweet music of Norma. Has the gay matron visited and shopped, and shopped and visited for the last eight hours, she now once more attires herself for the splendid "route" of Mad. Solon. Has the creole maiden danced and sung, and slept and read, and lounged in flowing dishabille, she now rises from her delicious ottoman and for the St. Louis masquerade, once more adorns her lovely form. Has the good and pious man toiled all day in honorable trade in behalf of his virtuous wife and smiling children, he now sits around his evening meal, blesses his Maker for "all the good HE gives," and catches with joy the sound of the deep-toned bell, calling him to the worship of his God. Thus may all tastes and dispositions find accommodation by "Orleans at night." The cabs and coaches moving in all directions, with lights attached, resemble at a distance so many 'ignuis fatuis,' or jack o' the lanterns. They never stop, but go the whole night; for the gay and dissipated, surfeited with one amusement, seek another, and it is not uncommon for the same person to have made the entire rounds of the public amusements in one night. Stepping out of the theatre at eleven o'clock, they are escorted by the eager cabmen proposing to convey them to the Quarteroon Ball, the St. Louis Masquerade, and many other places. By the way, these cabs are most delightful inventions, easy to get in, fine to ride in. To prevent cheating on the part of the driver, the police have arranged the fare, so that the visitor pays one dollar per hour, as long as he rides. The city is supplied with one thousand cabs and coaches for public hire. There are fifteen hundred milk and market wagons. The quantity of milk consumed at the St. Charles Hotel alone, is eighty gallons per day! Four thousand drays are constantly moving with merchandise of all kinds. They are drawn by large mules driven in tandem style, and although these useful animals are apparently well fed, they are certainly most unmercifully laden and cruelly beaten. I should suppose that twelve thousand mules are engaged in the commerce of Orleans one way and another. What a mart for Kentucky!