DEAR FRANK,

LETTER XXXI.

I HAVE often regretted that our young men, whose fortune it is to have leisure, means, and opportunity, instead of gadding into foreign countries, did not sometimes take it into their heads to visit their own. All that is worth knowing of Europe, may be learned from books; and it too generally happens that a visit to the celebrated scenes of antiquity, answers no other purpose than to diminish our enthusiasm, by substituting the impression of a dull insignificant reality, in the place of a glowing picture of the imagination. I do not find that these pilgrims to the shrine of the classics, return with more vivid impressions of ancient genius or magnificence; on the contrary, the only ideas they in general seem to have retained, are those of beggars infesting their way; mule-drivers attempting every species of extortion; inns abounding in inconveniences and fleas; and innkeepers practising every art of imposition. In short, the labours and privations of the journey seem to have obliterated every agreeable or sublime impression from their recollection. Yet it must be confessed they have one advantage. They can contradict both history and tradition, as well as palm upon their hearers the most stupid absurdities, since there is no

resisting the testimony of a man who has been on the spot, and seen with his own eyes, even though he should run counter to the best authorities, and relate impossibilities. A visit to Italy, besides, makes a man of course a connoisseur in all the fine arts, and enables him to abuse every thing in this country with great effect. It is like a degree at college, which makes a man a scholar in spite of his teeth, and confers upon the fortune-travelled youth, pretty much the same distinction that is obtained by the pious mussulman who visits the shrine of Mecca, and stultifies himself with opium by the way.

I dare say you remember H, the son of the honest old mouser in street, who, after living in dust and cobwebs forty years, came out at last a fine gentleman, by the aid of money, meanness, and ostentation. Nothing would serve him, but his son Bobby must go abroad and get a polish, for it was past the art of this country to do it; and so far the old man was right. But in order to join pleasure and profit, (two ideas the old man could never separate in the whole course of his life,) he got him made supercargo to a ship, and away he went. Bobby had never been ten miles from the city, and knew no more of the country than a bank director. He knew, however, I will do him the justice to say, the names of several inland towns, for he had seen them tacked to the names of some of the debtors in his father's ledger, which, with the exception of the old man's bank-book, was the only book he had looked into since he left school. But Bobby had excellent

recommendations from several warm men on Change, and his father had given a grand dinner to one or two foreign ministers, who, of course, could not refuse him letters. Away went Bobby to Bordeaux, sold his cargo, pocketed the money, and hied him to Paris. The first thing he did was to Frenchify himself with a little short-skirted coat, with buttons nearly as far apart as the pillars of Hercules. His letters procured him admission into the politest circles, which, to the credit of Paris, are always literary; and he had learned French by the newly-invented patent method, in twenty lessons. It is to be observed, that among the learned on the continent of Europe, there is no country in the world which excites so much curiosity and interest as ours. To the mutual credit of freedom and philosophy, nearly all the distinguished philosophers of the age are friends to rational liberty, and now looking anxiously towards the United States, to witness the success of a great experiment, which is to decide, probably for ever, whether their theories of the capacity of mankind to govern themselves, are well or ill founded. It is here they feel that the question is to be decided, and not only their more enlarged benevolence, but their self-love, is nearly concerned in the result, which is to decide whether they are mere visionary speculatists, or grave and judicious teachers. They are consequently very inquisitive, with regard to the situation of the United States, as a body politic. The scientific men, on the other hand, having exhausted all the novelties of the old, look to the new world for

facts to uphold, or overthrow, their own or other theories; and the polite will select a traveller's own country as the subject of inquiry, because it is one with which he is supposed to be best acquainted.

Bobby was of course questioned on these matters. Sometimes he could not answer; at others it was still worse, for he answered like a blockhead. The savans took snuff at him; and the ladies pronounced him ame de boue, which was as far as their politeness would permit them to go. Bobby was cut, as the saying is; for among the learned, the witty, and the wise, a man who brings nothing with him, is very likely to take nothing away, unless he is a good laugher, and an intelligent listener; that is to say, listens as if he understood. But a man with the proceeds of a cargo in his purse, need not be without society, and can find friends even in Paris. Bobby found a plenty who demonstrated their regard by liberally shaving his purse, letting him pay their bills, and calling him "à d-d fine fellow." To make an end, Bobby came home, in about two years, and old Hwas obliged to post the proceeds of the cargo to profit and loss. This so affected the old man, that he broke up his gentility, and went through a retrograde transmigration, by changing from butterfly to grub-worm, after having changed from grub-worm to butterfly. Nevertheless, Bobby became a person of great distinction in the beau monde, and has ever since decided on the affairs of France, with as little opposition as the allied powers do at this time.

So long as this distinction is attained to in society,

VOL. II-H

merely from the circumstance of having been a year or two abroad, it is to be feared that our young men will continue as heretofore, better acquainted with every other country than their own; which, of all others, is best worthy of their attention, as of all others it ought to be nearest their hearts. The inhabitants of the United States, so far as I have had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with them, are that sort of people who, the more they know, the more they like each other; and it is a great pity that those whose talents, station, or fortune, give them an influence in society, would not go amongst each other; receive and bestow those courtesies, that are the sure forerunners of hearty good-will: and get rid of some of those silly and absurd antipathies that were ingrafted on error, or originated in characteristic peculiarities, that no longer exist, if indeed they ever existed at all. I have seldom or ever seen two honest worthy men fall together, even under the most unfavourable impressions of each other, who did not, in a little time, come to a good understanding, and wonder what could have made them enemies. There is something in being amongst people, sharing their enjoyments, partaking in all the good things of the world with them, and being happy in their society, that few good people can resist; and those that can, are not the men for my money. For my part, the more I see of my countrymen, the more I like the honest fellows; and this I will say of them, I never was in any place in the United States, where I did not find friends and a welcome.