With regard to the _climate_ of Philadelphia, it is observed that the heats of summer are excessive; and that the cold of winter is equally extreme. During the few days which Mr. Weld spent at Philadelphia, in the month of June, 1795, the heat was almost intolerable. For two or three days the thermometer stood at 93 deg., and, during these days, no one stirred out of doors who was not compelled to do so. Light white hats were universally worn, and the young men appeared dressed in cotton or linen jackets and trowsers. The window-shutters of the houses were closed early in the mornings, so as to admit no more light than what was absolutely necessary for domestic business. Indeed, many of the houses were kept so dark, that, on going into them from the street, it was impossible, at first entrance, to perceive who was present. The best houses in the city are furnished with Venetian blinds, at the outside, to the windows and hall doors, which are made to fold together like common window-shutters. A very different scene was presented after sunset. Every house was then thrown open, and all the inhabitants crowded into the streets, to take their evening walks, and to visit their acquaintance. This usually lasted till about ten o'clock: at eleven all was quiet; and a person might have passed over half the town without seeing a single human being, except the watchmen. Heavy dews sometimes fall after the sun is down, and the nights are then very cold: at other times there are no dews, and the air continues hot all the night through. At this season of the year meat cannot be kept sweet, even for a single day, except in an icehouse or a remarkably cold cellar. Milk generally turns sour in an hour or two; and fish is never brought to market without being covered with lumps of ice. Poultry, intended for dinner, is never killed till about four hours before it is wanted, and even then it is kept immersed in water.