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whatever—both schools having long ceased to exist; but it furnishes a most striking proof of the existence, as well as of the pernicious effects of the last parental fault noticed. As a necessary consequence of this fault, comes the frequent changes made from school to school, often without any assignable cause, but the mere love of novelty; or some secret, but unfounded dissatisfaction imbibed from the ex parte misrepresentation of the children, most carefully concealed from the teachers themselves. If the matter ended here, it might not do more harm than occasion the loss of the particular pupils to the offending teachers; but the fancied injury, although never communicated to the person chiefly interested in removing the unfounded imputation, is, in general, the more diligently made known to others. With all these, the characters of the teachers are deeply injured, if not entirely ruined, without the possibility of a vindication, from utter ignorance of its being any where necessary. Persons who are thus regardless of what they say of schools and their conductors, and who are so careless as to the sources from which they seek a knowledge of their characters, are liable to be greatly deceived, even when making inquiries, in a manner that appears to them most likely to obtain correct information. Thus, in the opinion of these precipitate and reckless judges, it is at once concluded, that if an individual of their acquaintance has merely been at any particular school, whether in casually passing or specially to see it, this person must necessarily be well qualified to tell, describe, and explain every thing about it; and therefore, that the sentence of approval or condemnation produced by this off-hand judge, must be decisive, although it may go no farther than a simple "ipse dixit"—"he or she said it." Details are rarely, if ever asked by such inquirers, (for I have often witnessed their method of proceeding) but the mere opinion of the informant, for or against the school, is deemed all sufficient; the brief assertion, " I've no notion of it," or " I like it mightily," settles the question. It seems never to be even suspected, that to form a just and impartial judgment in regard to the merits or demerits of any school, requires much more time, learning, knowledge of the principles and management of schools in general, acquaintance with the various modes of instructing youth, but, above all, more power of discrimination than most persons possess. Hence, the characters both of schools and teachers, are generally at the mercy of individuals extremely incompetent to determine what they really are.

Another common fault with many parents and guardians, has always reminded me of the old miser who inquired of his merchant for a pair of shoes, that must be at once "very neat, and strong, and fine, and cheap." They confound together cheapness and lowness of price, although no two things generally differ more widely; and hence they always endeavor to purchase their schools as they do their merchandise. It is certainly true that a high price does not necessarily make either schools or merchandise of good quality; but it is equally true, that a low price can never have any such effect. The principle of equivalents must be alike consulted in both cases, or no fair, equitable bargain can be made, either for bodily or mental apparel. If much is required, much must be given, provided both parties are free to give and take; and those who act upon different prin

ciples—be they parents, guardians, or teachers, deserve to be, and generally are, utterly disappointed.

There is another fault which I will here mentionnot on account of any connexion with that just noticed, but because the recollection of it has just presented itself. It is of most fearful import, for I verily believe it to be the foundation of most of the infidelity which prevails among the youth of our country. I mean, the neglect of parents to require their children to seek religious instruction by constant attendance at places of religious worship—places where they thctnttlta, if professors of religion, deem it their sacred duty to attend. They require—nay, insist upon these children seeking classical, scientific, and literary knowledge by attending schools and colleges; how then can they possibly justify, or even excuse their attendance at church, not being at least equally insisted upon. They themselves, unless hypocrites, must deem religious knowledge far more important than all other kinds united. To leave their children then, at full liberty to seek or not to seek it, and to coerce them in seeking these other kinds, is to act, not only inconsistently and foolishly, but wickedly.

One of the greatest and most pernicious faults of all, I have reserved for the last to be noticed. It is the utter indifference which, not only parents and guardians but all other persons except the instructors themselves, appear to feel for the reputation of schools and their particular conductors, although this reputation is really a matter of the deepest interest to the whole community. Of these institutions and their managers, it seems in an especial manner, and most emphatically true, that "what is every body's business is no body's business." Slander and its effects may certainly be called ntrj body's business, since all are exposed to it; yet no individual appears to think it his own, or likely to be so, until it touches his own dear self, although one of the best modes of protecting himself from it, most obviously is—to manifest, on all occasions, a readiness to protect others. But while men remain so prone to believe ill, rather than good, of their fellow creatures, and are too regardless of any reputations but their own, it is hardly to be expected, that so long as they themselves are safe, much care will be felt whether the persons assailed, are openly or secretly attacked, or whether they k«« opportunities to defend themselves or not. Hence, there are no courts in the world that exercise a men despotic, reckless sway, than what may justly be called courts of defamation; the only qualifications forwhicn are, a talent and love for malignant gossipping. Even the tribunals of the inquisition make a pretence at justice, by calling the accused before them; but the selfconstituted inquisitors of reputation, who often, in l» course of their various sessions, sit upon schools ami their conductors, disdain to use even the mockery of» trial. With them, to try, to condemn, and to execute the character, while the body is absent, constitute but one and the same net; and like so many grand sultans, whose power is supreme, whose word is law, aw whose arguments are the scimitars and bowstrings« death, they are alike uncontrolled and uncontrollable by any considerations even approaching towards truth and justice. If defamation never meets with any thing to check it but the unheeded, unavailing complaints of the immediate sufferers from its diabolical spirit, it mu continue greatly to impair, if it does not utterly destroy ooe of the most copious sources of human happiness— I mean, the heart-cheering confidence, that all will acquire fair reputations by always acting in a manner to deserve them, and that nothing can bereave them of this inestimable blessing, but actual misconduct. It is true, that our laws hold out something like a remedy for slander by known individuals. But what is this remedy? While house-breaking and house-burning hate often been made punishable by death—characlerbraking and burning have met with no other legal corrective than pecuniary fines, and these too, dependent on enactment's hard to be applied to any particular case, and upon the capricious, ill-regulated, not to say, prejudiced, judgments of others. To mend the matter, public opinion generally attaches no small disgrace to the seeking this species of redress; as if to sue for damages to character, implied, on the part of woman, some strong probability of guilt, and on the part of man, a great presumption both of guilt and cowardice. Against the effect of inimical motives, calumnious opinions, and their underhand circulation, no law affords any protection whatever. These matters are entirely beyond the reach of all legislation, and unless they can be cured by moral instruction, moral discipline, and such a public sentiment as will keep alive in every bosom a strong sense of our obligations always to judge charitably and justly of each other, the members of our society, one and all, must still live exposed to this deep and deadly curse of secret defamation. Such is the baneful nature of this deplorable evil, that to fear or despise will only serve to aggravate it—while to live above it, although very comfortable to our consciences, can never entirely prevent the injuries it often has the power of inflicting upon even the best of mankind. The disastrous effects of it upon education, so far as this depends upon scholastic establishments, are incalculable; for although some particular schools might rise or fall a sightless distance above the hopes of their most sanguine friends—below the wishes of their bitterest enemies—without materially affecting the general cause of instruction; yet that cause cannot possibly flourish—cannot even approach its maximum of general food, without far greater protection from public senti"lent. Itnuuc protect, and with parental solicitude too, the reputation both of teachers and schools, or none whatever, even the best, can be secure of a twelve months' existence. None can possibly last, unless all »bo have any power of giving the tone and character of public opinion, will unite in marking with the severest reprobation the kind of spirit which so frequently gives birth and circulation to the numerous, unfounded calumnies we so often hear against the very best of them; calumnies too, to the greedy swallowing of which, it forms no objection with many, that they have no authors who have hardihood enough to avow them. But the same violent spirit which ruins some schools by calumny, often exerts itself with so little judgment as to destroy others by intended kindness. Thus, the same tongues which will persecute particular schools in secret—"even unto death," will praise and puff others so immeasurably, as to excite against them that never dying envy and animosity, which is always roused to action by high seasoned commendation of others. These headlong, unreflecting puffers,

are either utterly ignorant, or entirely forget that the world is still full of people who are brothers and sisters, at least in feeling, to that Athenian who voted to banish Aristides, (whom he acknowledged he did not know,) solely, as he declared—" because he teas weary and sick at heart, an hearing him every where called the Just."

The foregoing faults, as far as I can recollect, are the chief and most pernicious of those which attach particularly to parents and guardians. But there are many others to which they are parties, either as principals or accessories with that great and complicated mass of human beings, which, when considered in the aggregate, constitute what is called—" the public." These often form themselves into large subdivisions, arrayed against ench other with all the bitter animosity of partizan hostility, as the assailants and defenders of particular schools; without appearing, for a moment to reflect, that complete success to either party must sweep from the face of the earth one half of the existing schools, although it is manifest to all who will look soberly at our present condition, that the supply of good schools, still falls very far short of the demand. But if this exterminating war between the partizans and enemies of schools in general is never to cease, would it not be far better for the world, if all the schools in it, with their friends and enemies, were crushed together in one promiscuous mass—that some new, and, if possible, better road might be opened to science, literature and religion?

In education there should be, in reality, but one party— (if I may be allowed to say so) that of knowledge and virtue; but one object, and that object human happiness. Until this principle can be universally established and acted upon—until the class of instructors shall not only be held in higher estimation, but be more secure of being protected by public sentiment, from unmerited obloquy and secret detraction, thousands of those who are most capable of fulfilling all the momentous duties of teachers, will shrink entirely from so thankless, so discouraging an occupation. It is true, that even under present circumstances, we have the appearance of much good resulting from the various attempts to educate the rising generation; but no very extensive advantage— no permanent benefit, at all commensurate to the wants and wishes of our thirteen millions of people, can possibly result from them while things remain exactly as they are. This is not the worst consequence of such a state of public sentiment—for, not only will the accessions of highly qualified persons to theclassof instructors be much fewer, but those already belonging to it, will either abandon it, or, perceiving that the privilege of teaching is usually let to the lowest bidder, and that their profession is generally treated as an inferior one, having few claims to generous sympathy, and none to that respect and esteem which would bear them harmless, at all times, against all suspicions of meanness and servility, will insensibly contract the spiritless, submissive feelings which they find are commonly supposed to belong to their situation. Seeing also that a spirit of independence—a nice, high-minded sense of honor, are deemed by many, sentiments of much too exalted a grade for those who follow such a calling, their principles are always in danger of sinking to the level of such a standard, however arbitrary and unreasonable may have been its establishment. Woe to the unlucky wight of a schoolmaster or schoolmistress who happens to be gifted with so rebellious a heart, as to betray any feeling, even approaching to indignant resentment, for such treatment! Silence is their true policy, for it will be considered his or her humble duty ; and silence must be kept, cost what it may, unless they arc prepared to encounter the worst consequences of derision, scorn, or deprivation of what is called jmtronage.

It is readily admitted, that persons of this profession are more highly estimated than they were forty or fifty years ago; for I distinctly recollect the time when all 1 have said of the degrading treatment of teachers generally, both by parents and others, was literally true; when to the question, "who is such a one?" the common reply was, "oh, nothing but a schoolmaster or schoolmistress;" and when they were all commonly viewed precisely as we might imagine from such an answer. But although they have, of late years, been elevated a spoke or two higher up the ladder of respectability, still they are not admitted to a level with several other classes, whose real claims to superiority have no better foundation than their own silly, groundless pride.

The following extract from the London Examiner affords a striking proof that what I have affirmed of the public sentiment relative to the class of teachers in the United Suites, is true to a still more pernicious extent in Great Britain.

The author remarks, "A trust is generally accounted honorable in proportion toils importance, and the order of the qualities or acquirements requisite to the discharge of it. There is, however, one striking exception to this rule in the instance of the instructers of youth, who.specially appointed to communicate the knowledge and accomplishments which may command respect in the persons of their pupils, arc, in their own, denied every thing beyond the decencies of a reluctantly accorded civility, and often are refused even those barren observances. The treatment which tutors, governesses, ushers, and the various classes of preceptors, receive in this boasted land of liberality, is a disgrace to the feelings, as well as to the understanding of society. Every parent acknowledges that the domestic object of the first importance is the education of his children. In obtaining the services of an individual for this purpose, he takes care to be assured" (not always so with us) "that his morals are good and his acquirements beyond the common average—in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, we may add, beyond those which he himself possesses, and on which he sufficiently prides himself. When he has procured such a man as he believes this to be, he treats him with perhaps as much courtesy as his cork-drawer, and shows him less favor than his groom. The mistress of the family pursues the same course with the governess which the master adopts towards the tutor. The governess is acknowledged competent to form the minds and manners of the young ladies—to make, indeed, the future women: but of how much more consequence in the household is she who shapes the mistresses caps, and gives the set to her head-dress—the lady's maid! The unhappy teachers in almost every family are only placed just so much above the servants as to provoke in them the desire to pull them down—an inclination in the vulgar menials which is commonly encouraged by the

congenial vulgar and jealous pride of the heads of tic house, impatient of the intellectual equality or superiority which they have brought within their sphere. The remark, however, does not apply to the narrowminded only. All of us regard too lightly those who make a profit of communicating what all of us prat, and what we know entitles us to respect when we possess it. Some carry their neglect or contempt farther than others, but all are, in a greater or less degree, affected by the vicious standard of consideration common in the country. The instructers of youth serve for low wages; that is a sufficient cause for their being slighted, where money puts its value upon every thing and being. The butler and groom, indeed, serve for less than the tutor; but, beside the lowness of price, there is another peculiar ingredient in the condition of the last, which is, the accompaniment with it of a diin to respect on the score of a requital. It is this very claim, so ill-substantiated in hard cash, the secret force of which wounds the self-love of purse-proud nothingness, which sinks the poor tutor in regard below the man of corks or currycombs. AVe will not deny, too, that there arc families in which the care of wine and the training of horses are really recoimltd, although ml confesstd, of stiperior importance to the care and training of youth. These arc extreme cases, however, which we would not put. The common one is that of desiring and supposing every thing respectable in tie preceptor, and denying him respect—of proenrin; sn individual to instil virtue and know lodge into the rands of youth, and showing them, at the same lime, the practical nnd immediate example of virtue and knowledge neglected or despised in his person. How cans boy (and boys are shrewd enough) believe that thesequirements, the importance of which is dinned in U ears, are of any value ns a means of commanding the respect of the world, when he witnesses the treatment. the abject social lot of the very man, who, ns l«i stored with thorn, has been chosen hisinstrueterl Nil] he not naturally ask, how can these things obtain honor for me which do not command even courtesy for him who is able to communicate them to me?"

AVe remember, in a little volume treating on instractior, to have seen this anecdote:

"A lady wrote to her son, requesting to look rat f* a young lady, respectably connected, possessed of various elegant accomplishments and acquirements, sb .a in the languages, a proficient in music, and above a!, an unexceptionable moral character—and to make her an offer of 401. a year for her services as a governess. The son's reply was—' My dear mother, I have Img been looking out for snch a person as you describe, »w when I have the good fortune to meet with her, I propose to make her an offer—not of 40/. a year, but of my hand, and to ask her to become—not your governess, but my wife.'"

Such are the qualities expected or supposed in instructors; and yet, what is notoriously their treatment

I will hero end this long and painful catalogue off*" rental faults, and shall devote the next lecture loO* faults of teachers—merely remarking, in conclusion, that my sole undertaking being to point out thtip which require reformation, I shail present no favorab* views of the various parties concerned in the great "J* of education, although many very animating ones mi!"

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Which ever way my vision turns,

To heaven or earth, I see thee there,
In every star thy eyebeam burns,

Thy breath in every balmy air;
Thy words seem truth herself enshrined,

Sweet as the seraph minstrel sung,
And-thou, in dignity of mind,

An angel with a silver tongue.

What dreams of bliss entrance the soul,

When Persians watch their idol light, What pleasing visions o'er them roll

Caught from his beams serene and bright, Thus, when a sparkling ray is given,

From eyes so soft, so pure as thine— We feel as though our earth were heaven

And thou its radiant light divine.


In vain are musty morals taught in schools,
By rigid teachers and as rigid rules,
Where virtue with a frowning aspect stands,
And frights the pupil with her rough commands.
But Woman—

Charming Woman, can true converts make—
We love the precepts for the teacher's sake:
Virtue in them appears so bright and gay,
We hear with transport, and with pride obey.



The pages of our Magazine are open, and have ever been, to the discussion of all general questions in Political Law, or Economy—never to questions of mere party. The paper on the Right of Instruction, which forms our leading article this month, was addressed, in the form of a letter, to a gentleman of Richmond. The letter concluded thus—

"I assure you, my dear sir, that I hesitate about sending these sheets to you under the denomination of alcUer. But I began to write without knowing how far the subject might carry me on. No doubt had I time to write it over again, I might avoid repetition and greatly abridge it. But I pray you to take it with a fair allowance for all imperfections of manner; for the opinions and argument I confess my responsibility.

Most truly and respectfully your obedient servant,


LETTERS ON PENNSYLVANIA. A Pleasant Peregrination through the Prettiest Parts of Pennsylvania. Performed by Peregrine Prolix. Philadelphia: Grigg and Elliot.

We know nothing farther about Peregrine Profathan that he is the very clever author of a book entitled "Letters descriptive of the Virginia Springs," and that he is a gentleman upon the wrong side of forty. The first fact we are enabled easily to perceive from the peculiarity of an exceedingly witty-pedantic style characterizing, in a manner not to be mistaken, both the Virginia and the Pennsylvania Letters—the second appears from the first stanza of a rhyming dedication (much better than eulogistic) to John Guiliemard, Esquire, Fellow of the Royal Society, London— I send my friend a little token

Three thousand miles across the sea, Of kindness, forty years unbroken And cherished still for him by me. However these matters may be, it is very certain that Peregrine Prolix is a misnomer, that his book is R very excellent thing, and that the Preface is not the worst part of it.

Our traveller, before setting out on his peregrinations, indulges us, in Letter I, with a very well executed outline sketch, or scratch, of Philadelphia, not troubling himself much about either his keeping or his fillings in. We cannot do better than just copy the whole of his picture. _

Philadelphia is a flat, rectangular, clean, (almost too clean sometimes, for on Saturdays "nunquam cessavit lavari, aut fricari, aut tergeri, aut ornari, poliri, pingi, fingi,"*) uniform, well-built, brick and mortar, (except one stone house,) well-fed and watered, well-clad, moral, industrious, manufacturing,rich, sober, quiet, good-looking city. The Delaware washes its eastern and the Schuylkill its western front. The distance between the two rivers is one mile and three quarters, which space on several streets is nearly filled with houses. Philadelphia looks new. and is new, and like Juno always will be new; for the inhabitants are constantly pulling down and new-vamping their houses. The furor delendi with regard to old houses, is as rife in the bosoms of her citizens, as it was in the breast of old Cato with regard to Carthage. A respectable-looking old house is now a rare thing, and except the venerable edifice of Christ Church in Second above Market Street, we should hardly know where to find one.

The dwelling-houses in the principal streets are all very much alike, having much the air of brothers, sisters and cousins of the same family; like the supernumerary figures in one of West's historical paintings, or like all the faces in all of Stothard's designs. They are nearly all three stories high, faced with beautiful red unpainted Philadelphia brick, and have water tables and steps of white marble, kept so painfully clean as to make one fear to set his foot on them. The roofs are in general of cedar, cypress or pine shingles; the continued use of which is probably kept up (for there is plenty of slate,) to afford the Fire-Companies a little wholesome exercise.

The streets are in general fifty feet wide, having on each side convenient IroHotrj well paved with brick, and a carriage way badly paved with large round pebbles. They are kept very clean, and the kennels are frequently washed by floods of pure Schuylkill water, poured from the iron pipes with which all the streets are underlaid.

» Plauiua, Pn>nuli, Act i., Bc. 2, t. in.
Vol.. 11-57

This same Schuylkill water is the cause of many comforts in the shape of drinking, bathing and clean linen, (indusia toraliaque ;) and enters into the composition of those delicious and persuasive liquids called Pepper's beer and Gray's ale and porter.

This water is so pure, that our brothers of New York complain of its want of taste; and it is as wholesome and refreshing as the stream of father Nilus. It is also so copious, that our incendiaries are scarcely ever able to burn more than the roof or garret of one or two houses in a month. The fire companies are numerous, voluntary, well-organized associations, amply furnished with engines, hose, and all other implements and munitions necessary to make successful war upon the destroying element; and the members are intelligent, active and intrepid young men, so skilful from daily practice, that they will put you out three or four fires in a night, in less time than Higginbottom, that veteran fireman of London, would have allowed them to kindle.

The public confidence in these useful, prompt, energetic and faithful companies is so great, that no citizen is alarmed by the cry of fire; for he knows that the first tap on the State House bell, arouses hundreds of these vigilant guardians of the city's safety, who rush to the scene of danger with one accord; and with engines, axes, ladders, torches, hooks and hose, dash through summer's heat, or winter's hail and snows.

The old State House, in whose eastern room the Declaration of Independence was signed, has on the top of it, a sort of stumpy steeple, which looks as if somewhat pushed in, like a spy glass, half shut. In this steeple is a lan;c clock, which, twice as bad as Janus, presents four faces, which at dusk are lighted up like the full moon; and as there is a man in the moon, so there is a man in the clock, to see that it does not lag behind, nor run away from father time; whose whereabout, ever and anon, the people wish to know. This close observer of the time is also a distant observer of the fires, and possesses an ingenious method of communicating their existence and position to his fellow citizens below. One tap on the great bell means north; two indicate south ; three represent east, and four point out west; and by composition these simple elements are made to represent also the intermediate points. If the fire be in the north, the man strikes successive blows

with solemn and equal intervals, thus; lap tap

tap tap; if it be in the south, thus ; tap tap tap

tap; if it be in the north east, thus; tap tap tap

tap tap tap tap tap; so that when the thrifty

and well-fed citizen is roused by the cry of fire at midnight, from a pleasant dream of heaps of gold and smoking terrapins and whisky punch, he uncovers one ear and listens calmly for the State House bell, and if its iron tongue tell of no scathe to him, he turns him on his side and sleeps again. What a convenient invention, which tells the firemen when and where to go, and the terrapin men when to lie snug in their comfortable nests! This clever plan is supposed to have been invented by an M. A. P. S.; this however, we think doubtful, for the Magellanic Premium has never, to our knowledge, been claimed for the discovery. This reminds us that the American Philosophical Society is located* in Philadelphia, where it possesses a spacious hall, a good library, and an interesting collection of American antiquities, gigantic fossil bones, and other curiosities, all of which are open to the inspection of intelligent and inquisitive travellers.

The Society was founded by the Philosophical Franklin, and its presidential chair is now occupied by the learned and venerable Duponceau.

There exists here a club of twenty-four philosophers, who give every Saturday evening very agreeable male parties ;+ consisting of the club, twenty invited citi

* A new and somewhat barbarous, but exceedingly convenient yankeeisin, which will probably work its way into ffood society in England, as its predecessor ' fenrtAy,1 hue already done.

f Called WiBlar parties, in honor of the late illustrious Caspar Wistar, M. D., Professor of Anatomy in the University of Pennsylvania.

zens and any strangers who may happen to be in town. These parties are not confined to any particular circle; but all men who are distinguished in the arts, whether fine or mechanical; or in the sciences, whether natural or artificial, are liable to be invited. The members of the club are all M. A. P. S., and the parties are nipposed to look with a steady eye towards the cultivation of science; the other eye however regards with equal complacency the useful and ornamental arts of eating and drinking. The only defect in the latter department that we have discovered, is the banishment of ice cream and roman punch.

The markets are well supplied with good things. The principal one is held under long colonnades running along the middle of Market street, and extending from Front to Eighth street, a distance of more than one thousand yards. The columns are of brick and the roofs of shingles, arched and ceiled underneath. If I were to say all they deserve of its beef, mutton and veal, there would be no end to the praises that flesh is heir to; but the butter and cream-cheese in the spring and summer, are such dainties as are found in no other place under the welkin. They are produced on dairy farms and by families near the city, whose energies have for several generations been directed to this one useful end, and who now work with an art made perfect by the experience of a century.

Here is the seat of the University of Pennsylvania, which comprehends a College of the Arts and several preparatory schools; and a college of Medicine the most celebrated of the United States, in the list of whose professors are many names advantageously known in all civilized nations.

The Hospital for the insane, sick and wounded iss well conducted institution, and worth a stranger's visit. Go and see also the Museum, the Water-Works, the Navy-Yard, and the public squares, and lots of other things too tedious to write down.

The site of the city promises very little for the scenery of the environs -} but unlike the witches in Macbeth, what is promised is more than kept. Take an open carriage and cross the Schuylkill by the Market street bridge, and ride up the west bank of the river for five or six miles, and your labor will be fully rewarded by a succession of lovely landscapes, comprehending water, hill and dale; wood, lawn and meadow; villas, ramihouses and cottages, mingled in a charming variety.

On the west bank of the Schuylkill opposite to the city, we regret to say, is an enormous palace, which cost many hundred thousand dollars, called an Almshouse, (unhappy misnomer,) which is big enough to hold all the paupers that would be in the world, lfthere were no poor laws to make them. But you had '*"erf<' and see it, and take the length and breadth and height of our unreason, in this age of light, when we ought W know better.

The people of Philadelphia are in general well-informed, well-bred, kind, hospitable and of good manners, very slightly tinged with quaker reserve; and the tone of society is gx>od, except in a small circle of exclusive imagines siibita, who imitate very awkwardly the exaggerations of European fashion. The tone of the Satanic school, which has somewhat infected the highest circles of fashion in England, has not yet crossed the Atlantic.

There are many good Hotels, and extensive boarding houses ; and tie table of the Mansion House issud to be faultless.

Taking every thing into consideration, this is certainly the very spot for annuitants, who have reached the rational age of fifty, to nestle in during the long remnant of their comfortable days. We say i0"?1TM" nant, because as a class, annuitants are the longest livers; and there is an excellent company here, that m* only grants annuities, but also insures lives.

The climate of Philadelphia is variable, and exhibits (in the shade,) all the degrees of temperature that are contained between the tenth below, and the ninetieth

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