The inducements to emigrate, and the facilities of living here, are neither so great nor so many as I wished and expected to find them. The majority of those who come are without capital and above useful labour. Of this kind seem our friends ---- and ----, and others known to you, whose {415} prospects are, I assure you, very shadowy. I speak impartially. Even capital, I believe, can any where be better employed than here. And as to labourers, there are more than can be paid. By the late report of this city, it appeared that 11,000 within these walls were in a state of unemployed pauperism; while in one prison only, are 600 thieves and incendiaries, the natural fruits of increasing poverty. Land, generally, is not property in this country, because there is infinitely more than enough; the surplus, therefore, is worth nothing. What is already in cultivation by hired hands lessens, rather than augments capital. Even potatoes, you know, cannot be produced from one without the agency of the other. The markets are all glutted, and without foreign demand, a surplus produce is not desirable, because unsaleable and perishable. All travel is restless labour, and "vanity and vexation of spirit." Its idea was once so supremely fascinating to my ambition, that I thought I never could have enough of it, and therefore wished myself doomed to perpetual travel. I have my wish, or something like it, and it disappoints me. During the last two years I have indeed found "no continuing city;" it is well if I seek and find one to come. I fly from city to city, from town to town, state to state, climate to climate, with the velocity of an eagle. I have frigid and tropical latitudes, polar cold and equinoxial heat, wintry desolation, {416} and the summery foliage of oranges and myrtles, all in the short space of one week, or less. For although this beautiful city of William Penn lies in an Egyptian latitude, winter has not long been over; whereas, it never enters the city of Charleston, which I have just quitted, where "Blossoms and fruits and flowers together rise, And all the year in rich confusion lies."