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THE PHILOSOPHY OF WHIST.

BY C. W. THOMSON.

THE road of life is but a game,
Where some a thirst for power and fame,

And some for pleasure feel-
But every player does not win,
Although he fairly may begin,

And make a proper deal.

Some men assume the part of trade,
Some turn the soil with active spade,

While some to wealth incline,
And making into earth their way,
Bring up, before the light of day,

The diamond of the mine.

In clubs some take an active part-
While some the dictates of the heart

With eager zeal pursue;
And, giv'n to wine, their ruin prove-
Or, trusting else in faithless love,

Their disappointment rue.

All have their different parts assign'd,
And ranks throughout the world we find,

'Mid people red and black,
Each on the one below him leans-
Some rise aloft to Kings and Queens,

Some sink to humble Jack.

But whether stationed high or low,
He who his honest heart can know

Free from reproving thumps,
E'en though he own nor house, nor lands,
That man in native glory stands,

The very ace of trumps.

Some men will shuffle through their day, Unmindful how their partners play ;

Unmoved they seem to stand, And throw their cards with a most bold And tranquil face, although they hold

A miserable hand.

The daring spirits take the lead,
While those that in the game succeed,

Seem bound to follow suit,
Such play the very deuce at last,
Their fortune, character they blast,

And reap the bitter fruit.

How oft alas! it is the fate
Of jarring comrades, wise too late,

To play a luckless club,
And sadly finding out at last,
The time for meditation past,

A heart had gained the rub.

By honour some their fortunes win,
And some by trick, nor deem it sin

To profit as they may-
But time will oft the wretch expose
To merited contempt, who chose

Dishonourable play.

'Tis only he, who, void of guile, Knows that he has a right to smile,

And tells his heart the same 'Tis only he, when Fate shall close His pack of chequered joys and woes,

Has fairly won the game.

REMINISCENCES OF PHILADELPHIA.

BY MRS. SARAH HALL.

I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.- Twelfth Night.

As human nature is said to be the same in every age and country, it is reasonable to expect that our infant stage should successively exhibit every character that has fourished in maturer regions. The antiquary, one might imagine, could find no food in our new world to regale his appetite. Yet even antiquaries are starting up amongst us; and our ancients are called upon to ransack their memories, and recite the tales of days long past. It is said to be the spirit of the times to neglect the aged, and give all honour to the young. Old men, and old women, will then be gratified by this unexpected summons, and will, very probably, bring out all their stores. America has no Druidical altars; no incomprehensible Stonehedge; no circle of Dendara, to elicit her lore. Every thing with us is young; all is within the memory or the attainment of her citizens. Some ancient monuments have indeed been discovered in our western states, and their origin and design have hitherto baffled the investigations of our philosophers. We have, then, no subjects of inquiry but the gradual progress of our settlements, and the everchanging manners of their inhabitants; and if man be the proper study of man, these topics may not be without interest to the curious.

There are yet living in Philadelphia, many who can tell of increclible revolutions since they played in her streets. They well remember when this wide-spread metropolis was comparatively a village, and had the simple manners of a village. The impressions of childhood are too deep to be effaced. The language of that day, when they said of a person who was about to make a voyage to England, that he was going home, seems to them but of yesterday; and the peal of Christ church bells, for the king's birth-day, or the discovery of the gunpowder plot, still rings in their ears. The revolution made a change in all these matters of homage to the mother country, not more remarkable than that which it quickly produced upon the appearance of the city and the manners of the people.

Previous to the occupation of Philadelphia, by the British troops, in 1777, Water, Front, and Third, were the only streets parallel with the Delaware river, that were closely built. Many houses in these days, which are not now thought sufficiently genteel or convenient for a second-rate tradesman, were then inhabited by the rich and honourable of the land. The cross streets, from Pine to Vine, extended from the river to Fourth street. A large double house in Market street,* between Fifth and Sixth, stood alone, and was considered out of town. It was afterwards successively occupied by the two Presidents, Washington and Adams. The house now tenanted by the Schuylkill Bank, is the only one besides, recollected in this quarter. This belonged to Joseph Galloway, Esq., and was confiscated, in consequence of his adherence to the king in the revolutionary war. The state house, a

* Built by William Masters, Esq., whose eldest daughter was the lady of the governor, Richard Penn.

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