Messrs. Coote and Dumbleton, good brewers of brown stout, on the banks of the great river Potowmac, late of Huntingdonshire, Old England. From the latter gentleman, I learn that nearly all the British emigrants feel disappointed. "It is not sufficient," says he, "that an Englishman lives; he expects to do better than live." Mr. D. seems to have done nothing for himself yet, but harm; having, together with his brother, spent all their money in mechanical pursuits. Constant work cannot be had, yet it is thought to be better than half a crown per day, constant, in England.
8th and 9th.—"Farming," says Messrs. C. and D., the brewers, "is more comfortable and profitable in England than here; for large and fine estates in Virginia do not keep families with necessaries. They send a little firewood to this market, for the sake of a few dollars, which some borrow one of another, for marketings daily. Neither is brewing so profitable as at home, although less capital will suffice, there being no public-houses {101} to buy here; but all the malting barley must be bought at once. Some, however, are not able to do so. Porter is cheaper here than at home." My now generous host, it is said, is almost the only successful emigrant, doing more business, and better too, than any other merchant; and yet he came hither without capital. His superior talents have insured success, which will, and must follow him. He is deemed the smartest, and wisest Briton in the city. Still, there are several hundreds of fine young men here and in Philadelphia, all out of employment; men, who ought not to have left England's overstocked common and glutted market. English labourers, and first-rate mechanics, too, are seen working, at the Capitol, for the low price of half a dollar per day, or whatever the master-builder pleases. Many firms, too, are lessening and disappearing, through
