the capital, Albany. At eleven o'clock on the morning of Friday, the 12th of November, I started on my trumpery length of only ninety-six miles to Philadelphia, not intending to stop at Baltimore for the mere purpose of looking at the place in cold wet. weather. We were ferried across to Jersey City, and thence were whirled to the remarkable city of Philadelphia by one o'clock.

CHAPTER XI.

PHILADELPHIA.

AND surely Philadelphia may with justice be called a remarkable city. Take it as it now stands. It is, according to statistics, the largest city as to area in the United States. It is twenty-two miles long from north to south, with a breadth of five to eight miles, and has an area of 1294 square miles. It contains more than 900 miles of paved streets, and more buildings than any other city in the country; and its park, Fairmount Park, the largest city park in the world, extending a total distance of nearly fourteen miles, embraces a total area of 2740 acres. It lies upon the west, or right, bank of the Delaware river, and, though ninety or perhaps a hundred miles from the sea, larger vessels (as I was credibly informed) can sail up the river to its wharfs than can enter New York Harbour, because of the bar at Sandy Point.

So much for the city itself, while as regards its historical associations they are of supreme interest to the States. We all know that Philadelphia was founded by William Penn, who came over with a colony of Quakers, and purchased the site from the

Indians in 1682. The first Continental Congress assembled here in 1774, as did also the subsequent congresses during the war. The Declaration of Independence was made and issued here July 4, 1776. The convention which formed the Constitution of the Republic assembled here in May, 1787. The first President of the United States resided here. Until 1799 it was the capital of the state of Pennsylvania, and from 1790 until 1800 was the seat of the Government of the United States. Two years after Penn founded it its population was 2500; in 1880 it amounted to 847,000, and to-day probably to a million.

With all these features and associations, it is not to be wondered at that Philadelphia made great pretensions to become the permanent capital of the Union and seat of Government. But, amidst the many jealousies that arose, it was finally resolved to establish an entirely independent district for that important political honour. It was from Philadelphia that President Washington issued the Proclamation of January 24th, 1791, which defined the first intended boundaries of that district; and it was from Philadelphia that the seat of Government was removed, to be transferred to Washington, District of Columbia. Among the causes of the above-mentioned jealousies one should be particularly mentioned here—that the South Carolinians were particularly anxious Philadelphia should not be selected because of the Quakers, who "were continually dogging Southern members

with their schemes of emancipation." Nor can it be denied that they were sincere in these views, because so early as in 1788 they voluntarily emancipated their slaves.

Two buildings, by way of contrast, struck me very much in Philadelphia. One is old and of humble dimensions, comparatively speaking. It is now some 150 years since it was built, at a cost of £5600. The other is new and of magnificent proportions and appearance, and is to have a tower (with a figure of William Penn at the top), measuring 537 feet in height, and it is to cost at least 15,000,000 dollars. This second is called the Public Buildings, and is to contain all the law courts and public offices. The first is called Independence Hall, and it was in this building that the Declaration of Independence of July 4th, 1776, was adopted, and from its front steps was publicly proclaimed.

I lodged at the Continental Hotel, in Chestnut Street, which is considered the fashionable street of the city. But it is a very narrow street, and is occupied, moreover, by a tramway. It contains, however, many prominent structures, and among the number, at the corner of Sixth Street, the stately stone ledger building of five stories high, where Mr. George Childs, of American and English fame-a worthy successor of Penn-publishes his well-known daily Public Ledger. I took my letter to him, and had a very pleasant interview, but was, unfortunately, just one day too late to be presented with a free

ticket to the Opera for that night, where all the world at hand were to assemble. He had that very afternoon bestowed his last. The somewhat more sober and less joyous cards, though agreeable ones, with which he could supply me were, in one case, an introduction to Mr. McArthur, the architect of the Public Buildings, which I was desirous of visiting, and, in the other, a letter to Professor Fetterolf, the President of the famous Girard College. Both buildings and institution are astonishing. The great white marble structure of the Public Buildings occupies an area of four and a half acres, and the total amount of floorroom is fourteen and a half acres, there being 520 rooms in the building. Not the least effective part of this visit, through which Major Harwood was good enough to conduct me, was the walk over the extensive roofs. Its general style may be classed as of the Renaissance, but there are many independent modifications of this style. It is highly decorated, partaking of the florid style, with an abundance of arches and pillars. Were I to venture a criticism upon any part of it, I should suggest that they were putting worthy William Penn a little too high up. It seems to me that the tower, from 500 to 550 feet in height, is rather too lofty for due proportion with the building.

The Girard College is of world-wide fame, and every feature of the now vast establishment bespeaks wealth. It dates from 1831, and was founded under a bequest from one Stephen Girard, a Frenchman,