life, but in spite of the natural principle of retaliation and revenge, (and I will maintain that it is a natural principle) they have evinced that virtue which the Bible has never taught many of us who have had access to it—forgiveness of our enemies.

Do not, however, think that I have lost myself in the interminable forests which still remain to the original proprietors of this continent—or that I have assumed the rifle and the moccasin. I should even prefer taking up my residence in this place which you know we have always considered one of the advanced posts in the march of civilization. It is true I have not yet descended from the roofs as aforesaid, to see what kind of an animal a Philadelphian really is in his own family circle, and shall have to defer a picture of this non-descript till opportunity of observation occurs. I have as yet seen only the outside. I have seen the Pennsylvania hospital externally; I have seen the figure of old William Penn standing like a good old fashioned broad brimmed sentinel before the door of the edifice, like all sentries exposed to the wind and the weather, with his head as it were drooping over the fine hot-house plants that surround him. But a bronze statue of the old gentleman I must confess seemed rather outre, although he richly deserved an equipment in that same costume from the perseverance which history tells us he evinced in the strife with the bailiffs that beset him in our old island. But let that pass; I would consent to be surrounded by tipstaves all my life to leave such a character as he did behind.—I have seen the Academy of Fine Arts, most modestly retiring from public view, behind a range of buildings that some of the cits have unconscionably erected on the front of the street, thus clearly evincing their disposition, to use the words of my Chesnut street friend, to throw the fine arts in the back ground. By the way the good people here are said to be (by the New Yorkers at least) most intolerably given to punning, and I must admit that some of the gentlemen who attend our excellent ordinary, have put off a few attempts at that vile species of wit, of a most contemptible character. I should, however, be very sorry to pass an opinion on the whole genus by the few specimens I have seen. Philadelphia is really a very handsome city; yet to take a panoramic view of it, you would be exceedingly disappointed. There are no steeples, or rather there is one, and that a very decent one—the architecture of which is by no means contemptible; but then there is but one steeple in a city of upwards of fifteen thousand houses, principally constructed of brick. If there were only a standard or ensign appended to its spire, which is about 200 feet from the ground, and that standard in proportion to its height, this goodly town would look like one grand encampment. Few of the houses exceed three stories, of about ten or twelve feet each. The city is however, flanked by two shot towers, one in the southeast, the other in the northwestern extremity; which afford some relief to the dead uniformity in the general aspect of the town. How successful the proprietors of these said towers may have been in the pursuit of their vocation, I know not; but for ornament to this place, I would not give one steeple, like that which is bottomed in the good old diocesan episcopal church for a thousand of them.

You see I have obeyed the injunction laid on me at parting, to express every thing as it presented itself to my observation, but in nothing can you find more sincerity of feeling than when I assure you neither time nor distance has diminished the warmth of affection with which I continue to be your friend.

Treatise on Agriculture.

SECT. II.

Of the actual state of Agriculture in Europe.

This is very different in different states, and even in different parts of the same state; its greater or less degree of perfection, depending on causes physical, or political, or both. Where a state, or part of a state, from soil, climate, manners, or geographical position, draws its principal subsistence from the fishery or the chase, as in the more northern parts of Europe, agriculture will not succeed; when a state is from any cause both essentially maritime or manufacturing, as in England, or principally manufacturing, as in Prussia; where public opinion has degraded manual labour, as in Spain, Portugal, and the Papal territory; or where laws villainize it, as in Russia, Prussia, Poland, Hungary, &c. &c. it is in vain to expect pre-eminent agriculture.—These principles will receive illustration as we go along.

1. In the Campania of Rome, where in the time of Pliny were counted twenty-three cities, the traveller is now astonished and depressed at the silence and desolation that surround him.—Even from Rome to Trescati, (four leagues of road the most frequented) we find only an arid plain, without trees, without meadows, natural or artificial, and without villages, or other habitation of man! Yet is this wretchedness not the fault of soil or climate, which (with little alteration[2]) continue to be what they were in the days of Augustus. "Man is the only growth that dwindles here," and to his deficient or ill directed industry, are owing all the calamities of the scene.[3] Instead of the hardy and masculine labours of the field; the successors of Cato and of Pliny employ themselves in fabricating sacred vases, hair powders and pomatums, artificial pearls, fiddle strings, embroidered gloves, and religious relics! They are also great collectors of pictures, statues, and medals—"dirty gods and coins," and find an ample reward in the ignorance and credulity of those who buy them.

2. How different from this picture is that of Tuscany! where the soil, though less fertile,[4] is covered with grains, with vines, and with cattle; and where a surface of 1200 square leagues, subsists a population of nine hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, of whom eighty thousand are agriculturists. It may amuse, if it does not instruct, the reader, to offer a few details of a husbandry, among the most distinguished of the present age. The plough of the north of Europe, as of this country, has the powers of a wedge, and acts perpendicularly; but that of Tuscany resembles a shovel, is eight or nine inches long, and nearly as broad, and cuts the earth horizontally. This instrument is particularly adapted to the loose and friable texture of the soil. A second plough, of the same shape, but of smaller size, follows that already described, and with the aid of the hoe and the spade,[5] throws the earth, already broken and pulverised, into four feet ridges, or beds, on which the crop is sown. The furrows answer a threefold purpose; they drain the beds of excessive moisture, ventilate the growing crops, and supply paths for the weeders.

The rotation of crops, employs two periods of different length; the one of three, the other of five years. In the rotation of three years, the ground is sown five