But you can always tell when you get among the Dutch and the Quakers, for there you perceive that something has been done for posterity.  Their houses are of stone, and built for duration, not for show.  If a German builds a house, its walls are twice as thick as others—­if he puts down a gate-post, it is sure to be nearly as thick as it is long.  Every thing about him, animate and inanimate, partakes of this character of solidity.  His wife even is a jolly, portly dame, his children chubby rogues, with legs shaped like little old-fashioned mahogany bannisters—­his barns as big as fortresses—­his horses like mammoths—­his cattle enormous—­and his breeches surprisingly redundant in linseywoolsey.  It matters not to him, whether the form of sideboards or bureaus changes, or whether other people wear tight breeches or cossack pantaloons in the shape of meal-bags.  Let fashion change as it may, his low, round-crowned, broad-brimmed hat, keeps its ground, his galligaskins support the same liberal dimensions, and his old oaken chest and clothes-press of curled maple, with the Anno Domini of their construction upon them, together with the dresser glistening with pewter-plates, still stand their ground, while the baseless fabrics of fashion fade away, without leaving a wreck behind.  Ceaseless and unwearied industry is his delight, and enterprise and speculation his abhorrence.  Riches do not corrupt, nor poverty depress him; for his mind is a sort of Pacific ocean, such as the first navigators described it—­unmoved by tempests, and only intolerable from its dead and tedious calms.  Thus he moves on, and when he dies his son moves on in the same pace, till generations have passed away, without one of the name becoming distinguished by his exploits or his crimes.  These are useful citizens, for they bless a country with useful works, and add to its riches.  But still, though industry, prudence, and economy are useful habits, they are selfish after all, and can hardly aspire to the dignity of virtues, except as they are preservatives against active vices.

* * * * *

From “Westward Ho.”

=_281._= ABORTIVE TOWNS.

Zeno Paddock and his wife Mrs. Judith, departed from the village, never to return.  Such was the reputation of the proprietor of the Western Sun, that a distinguished speculator, who was going to found a great city at the junction of Big Dry, and Little Dry, Rivers, made him the most advantageous offers to come and establish himself there, and puff the embryo bantling into existence as fast as possible.  He offered him a whole square next to that where the college, the courthouse, the church, the library, the athenaeum, and all the public buildings were situated....  Truth obliges us to say, that on his arrival at the city of New Pekin, as it was called, he found it covered with a forest of trees, each of which would take a man half a day to walk round; and that on discovering the square