Mr. Law told a friend of mine that he brought 100,000 guineas in gold, but could not now raise, by any means, at a short notice, 1,000_l._ City lots and land allured him almost to ruin. Land seems a substance, but is yet only a shadow in many neighbourhoods. _A common hot day at Washington._--The wind southerly, like the breath of an oven; the thermometer vacillating between 90 and 100; the sky blue and cloudless; the sun shedding a blazing light; the face of the land, and every thing upon it, save trees, withered, dusty, baked, and continually heated, insomuch that water would almost hiss on it; the atmosphere swarming with noxious insects, flies, bugs, mosquitoes, and grasshoppers, and withal so drying, that all animal and vegetable life is exposed to a continual process of exhaustion. The breezes, if any, are perfumed by nuisances of all sorts, emptied into the streets, rotting carcases, and the exhalations of dismal swamps, made vocal and alive with toads, lizards, and bellowing bull-frogs. Few people are stirring, except negroes; all faces, save those {439} of blacks, pale, languid, and lengthened with lassitude, expressive of any thing but ease and happiness. Now and then an emigrant or two fall dead at the cold spring, or fountain; others are lying on the floor, flat on their backs; all, whether idle or employed, are comfortless, being in an everlasting steam-bath, and feeling offensive to themselves and others. At table, pleased with nothing, because both vegetable and animal food is generally withered, toughened, and tainted; the beverage, tea or coffee, contains dead flies; the beds and bed-rooms, at night, present a smothering unaltering warmth, the walls being thoroughly heated, and being withinside like the outside of an oven in continual use. Hard is the lot of him who bears the heat and burthen of this day, and pitiable the fate of the poor emigrant sighing in vain for comforts, cool breezes, wholesome diet, and the old friends of his native land. At midnight, the lightning-bugs and bull-frogs become luminous and melodious. The flies seem an Egyptian plague, and get mortised into the oily butter, which holds them like birdlime. Having requested some communication on the subject of farming, and other matters, in Pennsylvania, from a friend, possessing great experience, I was favoured with the following heads, which contain much information in a condensed form. {440} _1st. Pennsylvania._--The land is of the first quality, and the best farming in the United States is found here. The climate is of a medium temperature, but the extremes meet as in the other states. _2nd. Crops._--The average produce is sixteen bushels, per acre, of wheat; other grain in proportion; but the crops are very subject to the Hessian fly and mildew. _3rd. Fruit._--As in the other states, it is inferior to that of Europe, and no dependence is to be placed on crops.