In speaking of the outward appearance of “our post-office,” we may be singular in our ideas of what constitutes architectural beauty, and others may appreciate what we censure. It is not, however, altogether a matter of taste with us, but a sense of what constitutes harmony. In every thing that owes its existence to nature alone, there is harmony. It is, in fact, the music of the spheres joining chorus with the growth of plants and flowers, which the ancients believed came blooming into life with music; or, as the poet says, it may be “the language of some other state, born of its memory.” Thus, in all things imitative of nature there should be harmony. Why not in art? Perhaps there is no other block of buildings in this city that presents a greater variety of architectural incongruities than does that wherein stands the Philadelphia post-office. It may be called a picturesque view of brick, marble, and mortar thrown together without regard to order, style, or _harmony_. Let the classic reader cast his eyes over the topographical view of Olympia as seen from the walls of Altis, glancing down through the “Sacred Grove” and along the Alpheus River: you will see even at that period, 440 B.C., how strictly the ancients adhered to harmony. The Temple of Jupiter and the Prytaneum or Senate-house, although widely different in their architectural designing, bore nevertheless a remarkable similarity in style, so as to preserve what might be termed classic harmony. Near to the Mount of Saturn stood the Temple of Juno. In the Temple of Vesta, the Theatre, the Hypodrammon, even to the Stables of Œnomaus and the Workshop of Phidias, the same harmonic traits in style and design were observable. Every thing was classic, every thing artistic. How is this feature observed with us? Speaking of the block alluded to above, embracing the custom-house, the post-office, the Philadelphia Bank, the Farmers’ and Mechanics’ Bank, &c., perhaps the following scene from R. B. Sheridan’s “School for Scandal” will give a better description of the style of architecture characterizing each than any thing we could furnish. The several characters are describing the personal appearance of a lady:— “_Crabtree._—She has the oddest countenance, a collection of features from all corners of the globe. “_Sir Benjamin._—She has, indeed, an Irish front. “_Crabtree._—Caledonian locks. “_Sir Benjamin._—Dutch nose. “_Crabtree._—Austrian lips. “_Sir Benjamin._—The complexion of a Spaniard. “_Crabtree._—And teeth _à la Chinoise_. “_Sir Benjamin._—In short, her face resembles a table d’hôte at Spa, where no two guests are of a nation.” _OUTSIDE AND INSIDE VIEW OF THE PHILADELPHIA POST-OFFICE._