y do not wear their hats, and the
activity of youth being happily past, they do not toss their
heels above their heads. I would I could add they do not spit;
but, alas! "I have an oath in heaven," and may not write an
untruth.

A very handsome room, opening on a noble stone balcony is fitted
up as a library for the members. The collection, as far as a
very cursory view could enable me to judge, was very like that of
a private English gentleman, but with less Latin, Greek, and
Italian. This room also is elegantly furnished; rich Brussels
carpet; library tables, with portfolios of engravings; abundance
of sofas, and so on. The view from it is glorious, and it looks
like the abode of luxury and taste.

I can by no means attempt to describe all the apartments of this
immense building, but the magnificent rotunda in the centre must
not be left unnoticed. It is, indeed, a noble hall, a hundred
feet in diameter, and of an imposing loftiness, lighted by an
ample dome.

Almost any pictures (excepting the cartoons) would look paltry in
this room, from the immense height of the walls; but the subjects
of the four pictures which are placed there, are of such high
historic interest that they should certainly have a place
somewhere, as national records. One represents the signing of
the declaration of independence; another the resignation of the
presidency by the great Washington; another the celebrated
victory of General Gates at Saratoga; and the fourth....I do not
well remember, but I think it is some other martial scene,
commemorating a victory; I rather think that of York Town.

One other object in the capitol must be mentioned, though it
occurs in so obscure a part of the building, that one or two
members to whom I mentioned it, were not aware of its existence.
The lower part of the edifice, a story below the rotunda, &c.,
has a variety of committee rooms, courts, and other places of
business. In a hall leading to some of these rooms, the ceiling
is supported by pillars, the capitals of which struck me as
peculiarly beautiful. They are composed of the ears and leaves
of the Indian corn, beautifully arranged, and forming as graceful
an outline as the acanthus itself. This was the only instance I
saw, in which America has ventured to attempt national
originality; the success is perfect. A sense of fitness always
enhances the effect of beauty. I will not attempt a long essay
on the subject, but if America, in he