We find the credit system very cleverly demonstrated. A working man enters into a banking house with his month’s earnings nicely tied up in the corner of his handkerchief: a blandly smiling clerk, with well pared nails and laundried linen, receives it and notes the amount in the depositor’s account book;--the workingman departs. Then the proprietor enters, gives a portion of the money to his clerk and puts the remainder carefully away--in his pocket. In another apartment, the projectors of a railway company offer a graceful financier one-half of their beautifully printed stock certificates, on condition that he floats the other half. A widow, with the money which she has just received as insurance upon her husband’s life, comes upon the scene. She makes known to the banker her anxiety to invest this money securely for the benefit of her helpless family. He magnanimously spares her a portion of the railroad stock, charging her but a small commission for his services. With the balance of his stock as collateral, he borrows money from a national bank and makes a corner in flour. Through the window of this apartment there is a beautifully arranged vista, showing the banker building a magnificent villa and settling it upon his wife. A third compartment contains the closing tableaux:--a meeting of assignees declaring a dividend of nothing, payable in twelve, twenty-four, and thirty-six months, and the banker stepping on board of an A, 1, steamer, to pass the remainder of his life in ease and luxury among the wonders and beauties of the old world. In this department also, we find a collection of the coins of our country, at which its people look in amazement. A father is endeavoring to explain to his son, a boy of twelve, what these gold and silver pieces were once used for. It is an interesting study in ancient history for the lad, but he is doubting as youth is apt to be, and does not appear thoroughly satisfied that they were ever current money. We push our way rapidly through the States. Maine has her liquor law, charmingly framed--but we find her Commissioners in Kentucky drinking Kentucky lemonade. Vermont exhibits a green mountain boy; the look in his eye belies his color. Massachusetts presents her genealogical tree. Rhode Island is represented by an immense specimen of inflated bullfrog. New York has on hand her canal ring, blazing with diamonds. Pennsylvania has her Switchback. Delaware another kind of switchback--her whipping post, and here we delay our progress to admire hers. Great bodies move slowly, and the Delawareans have great bodies--but mighty little souls. Their “stocks” are up, however, and they don’t seem to care. We suggest that the Governor of the State and the members of the Legislature be thrashed alternately every hour, to give a general idea of the _modus operandi_ to foreigners. Our suggestion is not received in the spirit in which it is offered.