I arrived at New Orleans, and again passed three weeks amidst attentions that never wearied, and the most flattering professional success. I will here, as I have before done, drop my Journal, and put my Impressions together in a less desultory form. FOOTNOTE: [2] Since this sheet has been in the course of printing, I have received an account of the capture of the murderers, from a correspondent at Mobile. The State had offered a large reward, and taken active measures for the M'Crews' detection. The retreat of one was traced out in the Mexican territory; and the details of his surprisal and capture, whilst resident amongst the Comanche Indians, are absolutely romantic, and highly creditable to the courage and patience of the captor, a private individual. I have to regret that these details are too long to be inserted by way of note. The murderers (or one of them at least) are now at Mobile awaiting trial. NEW ORLEANS. The day of my first arrival at this capital of many waters, this city _sui generis_, was one to which I had looked forward with much impatience and highly-roused expectations. The disastrous affair of 1812 had made New Orleans a name familiar to Britain, and given to it a celebrity more general amongst all sorts of men than its vast trade alone would have achieved for it in double the time. From the day also of my landing on the continent I had never heard this city named without accompanying remarks being elicited descriptive of its rapid increase, its singular position, and motley population, together with the speculations founded on the promise of its future greatness derived from its present healthful condition; that is, its political and commercial sanity; since no term can be worse applied, as illustrative of the views entertained of it by the North, whether physically or morally considered; views however that, on both these points, I have decided are singularly overcharged, even by persons one would conceive possessed of the information likely to lead to a correct judgment. This I attribute partly to the habit we are in of taking reports of places for granted, and repeating them from father to son without much personal examination, or rather comparison, and partly to the changes constantly operating upon society here, with a rapidity at least equal to the growth of building or the increase of produce and population; changes which come like Duncan's couriers, "thick as hail," the last giving the flat lie to the truth just told; to be, in turn, proved false by a successor. To a stranger, the point of observance most original and striking, and which will at once inform and interest him, is the view from the Levee, with a walk along this artificial embankment, which commencing a hundred miles above New Orleans, and thence waiting on the stream whose rule it circumscribes, here bends like a drawn bow about the city, forming a well-frequented quay of some seven miles.