sign to the stranger in Philadelphia, are the ruins of “Pennsylvania Hall,” which most of my readers are probably aware was destroyed by a pro-slavery mob in the spring of 1838.  It stood near the centre of the city, and was sixty-two feet front by one hundred deep, and fifty-two feet to the eaves:  the large saloon in the second story with its galleries being capable of holding three thousand persons.  On the occasion of its opening, a large number of the friends of emancipation assembled in the city, to attend the anniversary of the Pennsylvania Anti-Slavery Society, and some other meetings connected with the cause.  Letters of congratulation on the opening of the hall were received by the managers from ex-president Adams, William Slade and Francis James, members of Congress, Thomas Morris of the U.S.  Senate, Judge Jay, Gerritt Smith, and other distinguished friends of equal rights.  The letter of the venerable ex-president is written with his characteristic energy, and I quote an extract from it in further proof of the sentiments already expressed on the state of feeling in the land of Penn and Benezet, Pemberton and Franklin, on the subject of slavery.

“The right of discussion upon slavery, and an indefinite extent of topics connected with it, is banished from one-half the States of this Union.  It is suspended in both houses of Congress; opened and closed at the pleasure of the slave representation; opened for the promulgation of nullification sophistry; closed against the question, What is slavery? at the sound of which the walls of the capitol staggered like a drunken man.

“For this suppression of the freedom of speech and press, and the right of petition, the people of the free States of this Union are responsible, and the people of Pennsylvania most of all.  Of this responsibility, I say it with a pang, sharper than language can express, the city of Philadelphia must take herself the largest share.”

The meetings of the first day passed without disturbance.  On the evening of the second day, a meeting of the Female Anti-Slavery Society was held in the hall, the proceedings of which were greatly disturbed by a mob of from 1500 to 2000 persons, assembled without.  The windows on all sides were beaten in by stones and other missiles, and one or two persons severely injured.  The next day the mob lingered about the building, no effort being made by the pro-slavery authorities to disperse them.  In the evening the building was attacked, the doors burst open, and fire communicated to the interior; and in the midst of at least 20,000 persons, the noble and costly hall was consumed, with the exception of its bare walls.  My friend John G. Whittier, who was present at the time, states that the most dreadful threats were uttered by the rioters against the prominent abolitionists.  The house of Samuel Webb was particularly marked for destruction; and as the mob assembled nightly for