your knees you will wade through the bogs, you will lose yourself
among rude hillocks, you will be out of the reach of humanity. The
unfinished dome of the Capitol will loom before you in the distance,
and you will think that you approach the ruins of some western
Palmyra. If you are a sportsman, you will desire to shoot snipe
within sight of the President's house. There is much unsettled land
within the States of America, but I think none so desolate in its
state of nature as three-fourths of the ground on which is supposed
to stand the City of Washington.

The City of Washington is something more than four miles long, and
is something more than two miles broad. The land apportioned to it
is nearly as compact as may be, and it exceeds in area the size of a
parallelogram four miles long by two broad. These dimensions are
adequate for a noble city, for a city to contain a million of
inhabitants. It is impossible to state with accuracy the actual
population of Washington, for it fluctuates exceedingly. The place
is very full during Congress, and very empty during the recess. By
which I mean it to be understood that those streets which are
blessed with houses are full when Congress meets. I do not think
that Congress makes much difference to Massachusetts Avenue. I
believe that the city never contains as many as eighty thousand, and
that its permanent residents are less than sixty thousand.

But, it will be said, was it not well to prepare for a growing city?
Is it not true that London is choked by its own fatness, not having
been endowed at its birth or during its growth with proper means for
accommodating its own increasing proportions? Was it not well to
lay down fine avenues and broad streets, so that future citizens
might find a city well prepared to their hand?