been so long withheld; which can only be accounted for by your extreme modesty, and that of your friends, in not presenting your claims and services to the notice of the government of your native state; yet I trust you wiil not consider it the less acceptable, when you are assured that the resolution which present you was unanimously adopted, as soon as it was offered, and that every citizen of Pennsylvania believes, that should the government of the United States, at any time hereafter, become engaged in war upon the ocean, nothing but an opportunity will be wanting to convince them, that you continue worthy of their partiality and kind feeling; that you will do honour to the state which gave you birth; that you are deserving of that high recommendation, which in your youth you obtained; that you are capable of taking the place of Decatur, Perry, Lawrence, and those other naval worthies, who, though called from this to, we trust, a better world, have left their names and characters as imperishable as the world itself; that you are destined to be one of the most honoured and illustrious among the bravest of the brave.

CAPTAIN CONNER'S REPLY.

It is with emotions of the deepest sensibility that I receive this most gratifying evidence of the approbation with which the government of my native state has viewed my public services. A splendid testimonial of this character, emanating from a state, distinguished for her enlightened patriotism, constitutes the highest reward to which an officer can aspire. The sons of Pennsylvania engaged in the national service, may well be proud of their birthright, since she loses no opportunity of rewarding the humblest of them, who have acquitted themselves in a satisfactory manner, while engaged with the enemies of our country.

For the kind and flattering manner in which you have been pleased to notice my humble services, I offer to you my most respectful thanks. I also beg leave to offer, through you, to the members of the legislature, and to the distinguished patriot who now occupies the executive chair of the state, and whom you now represent, my most heartfelt thanks for the honour which has been this day conferred upon me. The splendour of the reward which you have so handsomely bestowed, has far exceeded my deserts; and though I cannot hope to fulfil the high expectations which you have been pleased to express; yet it shall be my constant duty to exercise all the talents and zeal I may possess, when an opportunity shall again offer, to defend the rights of our beloved country. [Journal of the Senate.

(From the Village Record.) MAUCH CHUNK-IN CONCLUSION. A few steps from the landing of the raft brought me to the Mauch Chunk Hotel, a large and elegant building, well finished and furnished, and crowded with well dressed, fashionable people, evidently strangers, on a visit to the mines. A glance round the tea-table, told me there was both beauty and grace among the female visitants. An examination of the book, where each person's name is recorded, informed me that some of the first characters and talent of the state, were guests at the mansion. After an early breakfast, the bugle sounded to rally all the company who wished to visit the mines and view the rail-road. Behold us on the summit level, a mile from the mine-and eight from the river, preparing to return-a sky clear-a gentle breeze and pure air, bracing the frame, and giving buoyancy to the spirits. A brigade of fifty-three wagons was drawn up on the rail-road, each loaded with a ton and a half of coal. The wagons are square boxes, widening at the top; some of wood-some of sheet iron, running on low cast iron wheels, of 18 to 24 inches diameter-the felloes four inches broad, cast with a flange on the inner edge to keep the wheel in its place on the rail-way. The axle-tree, of iron, turns with the wheel. A tin tube is inserted, having a piece of sponge at the bottom, to permit oil to trickle through constantly,

Fourteen

where each axle-tree is subjected to friction. wagons move together in a section, and a sections go down at the same time. All being ready, the ugle of the coachman sounded, and the company saw the sections start. Very little effort was necessary to set them in motion. At first they went off slowly, gaining velocity as they advanced. One man is sufficient to each section of the wagons, and of course twenty-one tons of coal. He mounts a little box behind, and by the simple pulling of a rope, restrains their speed to any point between twenty miles and one mile an hour. He has the train in perfect command. Next to the two sections, and perhaps 40 perches in the rear, came the pleasure carriages filled with company from the Hotel, ladies and gentlemen. Of these there were fourteen or fifteen. The coachman, a merry fellow, yet exceeding ly civil and obliging, took his seat, called to his horses, cracked his whip, and away we went at fine speed.

After us came a section of boxes, filled with mules and horses, troughs before them filled with provender, which they eat with as much freedom as if in their stables, as they roll along the rail-way. The road is made by laying logs across it, perfectly bedded and levelled, a foot perhaps a part; on these, lengthwise, and running with the road, and on each side wide enough apart for the wheels to run, are fastened two timbers six or seven inches square. On these are nailed bars of iron. This simple-very simple construction, constitutes the rail-road. Consider yourself standing a few perches from the way. Hear you that distant rumbling sound like an earthquake? In an instant behold those wagons! with what speed they come, yet how regular are their movements!-how easily they guide!-with what facility they turn with every turning of the road! A lever is fixed to each wagon from near the front left wheel, and rises above the side of the car; by pulling that le ver back, by the most simple machinery, every wheel is clasped by two semi-circular pieces of wood. The friction thus produced retards or instantly stops the wagon, however fast it may be going. All these levers are fastened together by a rope, the end of which is held by the one who guides, so that at pleasure, he can stop the whole train with scarce an effort.

Behold the pleasure carriages coming! The driver has let the coal train get a mile ahead-for that moves only about five miles an hour, though it might go 10 or 15, or even more, but five is deemed most prudent. The rogue has let the way become clear to show the company the speed of his feet steeds. They are of the same train with those of Achilles, begotten by the wind-aerial coursers. Imagination can scarcely conceive their swiftness. He cracks his whip-speaks sharply, as if he had really Xanthus and Balius before him; the carriages glide with the velocity of the swallow, and almost with its apparent ease-a breeze seems to meet you, so swiftly do you press upon the air-the respiration becomes more hurried. Scarcely have you tasted the pleasure of this rapid motion before you approach the coal train. The driver calls gently to his steeds, and in a moment, by his lever, the carriages are moving slowly and gently along the smooth way.

And lastly, what do you see? Did even imagination, in its wildest flights, ever picture to itself wagons laden with twenty-two tons running for many miles without aid, and more than this, that mules and horses should ride in coaches, feasting by the way like London turtle fed aldermen! The whole view of the descent of the wagons, coaches, and mule boxes, is one of the most inciting, extraordinary-pleasing and wonderful, that I have ever beheld. Wonderful-wonderful! again and again, exclaimed every one to whom it was new. returning, three mules draw up four carts c wagons. The ascent being moderate the labour is light. Two hundred tons are delivered at the landing a day, at a cost of about 22 cents per ton. I used to give 34 and 4 dollars a ton for hauling coal from the mine. The coal field itself is an object of curiosity. Rail-roads are laid

On

through the openings in all directions, and numerous hands employed in quarrying coal, loading wagons, and removing rubbish. No description can give a just idea the depth, extent, and value of this vast and inexhaustible mine. Coal enough seems presented to the eye to last for centuries, and yet examination shows, that for several miles in various directions from the place now working, there is coal in abundance.

When the wagons arrive at the brink of the mountain near Mauch Chunk, they are one at a time let down the chute to the coal house, which projects over the water, and from which the boats are laden. The chute is 700 feet in length-the perpendicular height 230 feet. You will at once see how extremely steep must be the descent, and how heavy the pressure of 30,000 weight of coal in a heavy wagon. Yet so simple and sure is the process of descending, that without the slightest accident or disorder, thousands of tons are let down yearly. The loaded wagon in descending draws up the empty wagon, there being a double rail-way down the chute. A large drum, round which the rope is wound, turning, lets off the rope which is fastened to the descending wagon, and at the same time winds up the rope to which the empty car is attached. It is curioas to see the car which has left its load, starting as if by itself-for the distance is so great you ean scarcely observe the rope that draws it-and coming rapidly up the steep. To prevent the drum from revolving too rapidly, and letting the wagon descend too swift, a band of iron clasps one end. This band is drawn close, by a lever, or loosened, giving at pleasure any velocity to the cars the manager pleases, or stopping both mid-way, in a moment. I feel how very imperfect is this description. Words cannot give an idea of these works-much less those so feeble as mine. To awaken liberal curiosity is rather my object than to gratify it. Except the steam engine, I know nothing that gives so lively and strong an impression of what the power and ingenuity of man may accomplish. The astonishing ascendancy of mind over matter. These works are worth a journey across the Atlantic to The intelligent and liberal should visit-admire and enjoy. The boats and other works I described when there two or three years ago, and need not repeat. The wild mountain scenery-the pure air and active exercise; are conducive to health and pleasure. The excellent aceommodations of Mr. Kimball, yield the traveller every comfort that the city would afford. look along a table so well spread, having between 30 and 40 guests, attended by ready, neat, and obliging waiters the handsome furniture the beautiful flowers upon the mantle-piece-you experience all the pleasure of intelligent and refined society in the midst of a dense population. Go to the window, and the lofty mountain, rugged and inaccessible, presents you the aspect of nature in her rudest form. You may there partake of the pure spring, as it gushes from beneath the mountain rock; or the bland Madeira from the "south side," and the finest vintage. At ten steps from the door you may penetrate the wildest solitude; or sitting in the neat carpetted parlour, surrounded by books, listen to the sweet-toned piano, touched with taste and feeling by some fair and accomplished hand.

see.

To

The canal to the Delaware is in a rapid state of advancement, and will be wholly or nearly finished this fall.

The reverse of my course home, may be agreeable to those who should like to visit Mauch Chunk.

John Ange, a planter, between Broad creek and the head of Wicomoco river in swampy grounds, at that time reputed Maryland, now of the territory of Pennsylvania, died about five years ago, aged one hundred and forty years, according to his own ca'culation, and his neighbours firmly believed it, from the tradition of their fathers. He had been totally blind with age some years before his death. He left a son of about eighty years, or more, who is already a great-grand-father, yet more hale, lively, and active than most men in their prime, and has no grey hairs. Both he and his father were of lean constitutions, and lived poor and sparing, i. e. on simple and natural food; not the nerve-destroying teas and coffee; not kept in perpetual fevers by strong Madeira, nor provoking a sickly appetite by rich and high seasoned dishes; while the pure moisture of the soil prevented the pestilential, nervous, or putrid fevers and fluxes, so often epidemical and fatal in high and dry grounds, in these warm climates.

Yours,

M. W. June 30, 1775. [Pa. Mag. STEAM BOAT NAVIGATION. Statement showing the amount of steam-boat tonnage of each state and territory of the United States; a'so, the duty collected on the same, during the year 1827. Steam-boat tonnage. Duty collected. Dolls. Cts.

STATES.

Maine..
Rhode Island..
Connecticut..
New-York..
New-Jersey
Pennsylvania.
Delaware....
Maryland.....
District of Columbia.
Virginia.....
South Carolina.
Alabama..
Louisiana..
Georgia....

Tons. 95ths.

Treasury Department,

"Register's office, april 15, 1828.}

JOSEPH NOURSE, Register.

Statement of the Ridge Turnpike Company affairs, for the year 1827.

Balance on hand 1st January, 1827..
Tolls in 1827........

Repairs... Salaries. Expenses..

$299 49

9,662 69

Certificates of debt, bonds, notes....• ..* .$104,673 46 Interest on same, unpaid... 46,305 29

$150,978 75

Evansburg to Perkiomen

34

Up Turnpike

THOS. H. WHITE, Treasurer. Philadelphia, January 1, 1828.

Turnpike to Sumneytown

8

Sumneytown to Millerstown

[Orleave Millerstown half a mile on your left.]

No. 59, Locust street, near Eighth, Philadelphia.

be not some fault in the system itself, or some imperfection in its details, which renders it injurious to the cominunity at large, without being beneficial to the particular class, for whose relief it was intended.

With regard to the question of radical defect in the system itself, it is not the intention of your committee to enter at large into a speculative argument upon it, in this report. It has, however, been the subject of keen and voluminous discussion in England, for many years past, and a very succinct summary of a few of the leading arguments which have been there used, may not perhaps be unacceptable.

The opponents of the system have alleged, that while it must always be admitted that charity is the first of our duties, and most grateful to our feelings as men, and consonant with our sentiments as Christians, yet it has been wisely ordained by Providence to be a duty of imperfect obligation, and left to be enforced by the opera tion of religious motives, and that sympathy for the distressed which is natural to the human heart. That cha

rity, no more than gratitude, or any other duty of a similar nature, is the proper object of human laws, or to be enforced by human sanctions. That, left unrestrained and uncompelled, while on the one hand the constitution of our nature and the dictates of religion, render any general failure of charity extremely improbable, there is on the other hand such an uncertainty attending the relief, which may be required in any particular case, that no individual is tempted to rely upon others, while he can find a support in his own industry or resources. That an individual too, who is about to make a voluntary gift at his own expense, will generally take reasonable care that it is bestowed upon a proper object-upon the deserving and unfortunate; and that those who have contributed, by their own abandoned and dissolute habits, to reduce themselves to penury, will then, and ought always, to find the access to relief hard and difficult. And that moreover, there is always a feeling of humiliation, attendant upon alms taking, which is unpleasant and degrading, and which affords a pledge, that this mode of subsistence will generally not be resorted to, while any other remains open.

In the third place it is asserted, that the most opera tive stimulus to exertion, among the labouring classes, is the fear of want. That the ambition of a labouring man is, by his exertions during the more vigorous period of his life, to lay up something for his own future support, and to provide a fund for the maintenance of his family when death shall have taken him from them, or age or infirmity shall have rendered him incompetent to contribute to their sustenance, by his own industry. That this desire, so long as he is conscious that its fulfilment depends entirely upon himself, renders him industrious, frugal and provident. But that if it be proclaimed to such a man, that he shall be supported whenever he shall choose to relinquish a laborious employmentthat his wife, his family, shall be provided for, whenever he shall cease to provide for them, he is deprived by the assurance thus given, of his sole or principal motive for leads to profligacy-profligacy is sure to end in disease, exertion; he soon falls into habits of idleness-idleness and he becomes a wretched being, useless to himself, useless to his family and to society; and for the remainder of his miserable existence, au incumbrance-a dead weight upon the public bounty. Or that at least, the temptations thus held out to him will operate gradually to relax his frugal and industrious habits; that he will learn to indulge in unnecessary expenses; that he will imperceptibly become improvident and careless of the future, and at last end his days in the poor house. That the natural tendency of the system (supposing those who are affected by it, to be actuated by the ordinary motives which operate on human nature, will always be to swell the number of paupers to an unlimited degree, and to destroy or diminish the virtue and industry of the labouring classes. And that moreover, as the temptation held out will be indefinite and universal, while the fund itself must always be limited within some bounds, the public provision will never be found adequate to the relief of the paupers, which it has contributed to create; that the needy surplus must fall at last upon the private charity of the citizens, and that in proportion as the number is increased of those who depend upon public bounty, will also be augmented the number of those, whose sole resource must be in the individual sympathies of their fellow men,-sympathies already weakened, by the circumstance that the public have undertaken, however inefficiently, to do away the necessity for their exertion.

ent.

And lastly, it is insisted that the poor laws encourage improvident marriages, among those who are entirely unable by their own exertions to support a family, and thus tend to breed generation after generation, of here ditary paupers, who, through their whole lives, never know any other mode of subsistence than that which is afforded to them by the public bounty.