handsome, being of white marble, and built after
Grecian models. The State House has nothing externally to
recommend it, but the room shown as that in which the declaration
of independence was signed, and in which the estimable Lafayette
was received half a century after he had shed his noble blood in
aiding to obtain it, is an interesting spot. At one end of this
room is a statue in wood of General Washington; on its base is
the following inscription:-

First in Peace,
First in War,
and
First in the hearts of his Countrymen.

There is a very pretty enclosure before the Walnut Street
entrance to the State House, with good well-kept gravel walks,
and many of their beautiful flowering trees. It is laid down in
grass, not in turf; that, indeed, is a luxury I never saw in
America. Near this enclosure is another of much the same
description, called Washington Square. Here there was an
excellent crop of clover; but as the trees are numerous, and
highly beautiful, and several commodious seats are placed beneath
their shade, it is, in spite of the long grass, a very agreeable
retreat from heat and dust. It was rarely, however, that I saw
any of these seats occupied; the Americans have either no
leisure, or no inclination for those moments of _delassement_
that all other people, I believe, indulge in. Even their drams,
so universally taken by rich and poor, are swallowed standing,
and, excepting at church, they never have the air of leisure or
repose. This pretty Washington Square is surrounded by houses on
three sides, but (lasso!) has a prison on the fourth; it is
nevertheless the nearest approach to a London square that is to
be found in Philadelphia.

One evening, while the rest of my party went to visit some
objects which I had before seen, I agreed to await their return
in this square, and sat down under a magnificent catalpa, which
threw its fragrant blossoms in all directions; the other end of
the bench was occupied by a young lady, who was employed in
watching the gambols of a little boy. There was something in her
manner of looking at me, and exchanging a smile when her young
charge performed some extraordinary feat of activity on the
grass, that persuaded me she was not an American. I do not
remember who spoke first, but we were presently in a full flow of
conversation. She spoke English with elegant correctness, but
she was a German, and with an ardour of feeling which gave her