Dear ——­,

I have little new to tell you of Frankfort.  It appeared to be the same busy, clean, pretty, well-built town, on this visit, as it did at the two others.  We examined the boulevards a little more closely than before, and were even more pleased with them than formerly.  I have already explained to you that the secret of these tasteful and beautiful walks, so near, and sometimes in the very heart (as at Dresden) of the large German towns, is in the circumstance of the old fortifications being destroyed, and the space thus obtained having been wisely appropriated to health and air.  Leipsig, in particular, enjoys a picturesque garden, where formerly there stood nothing but grim guns, and frowning ramparts.

Frankfort has been the subject of recent political disturbances, and, I heard this morning from a banker, that there existed serious discontents all along the Rhine.  As far as I can learn, the movement proceeds from a desire in the trading, banking, and manufacturing classes, the nouveaux riches, in short, to reduce the power and influence of the old feudal and territorial nobility.  The kingly authority, in our time, is not much of itself, and the principal question has become, how many or how few, or, in short, who are to share in its immunities.  In this simple fact lies the germ of the revolution in France, and of reform in England.  Money is changing hands, and power must go with it.  This is, has been, and ever will be the case, except in those instances in which the great political trust is thrown confidingly into the hands of all; and even then, in half the practical results, money will cheat them out of the advantages.  Where the pressure is so great as to produce a recoil, it is the poor against the rich; and where the poor have rights to stand on, the rich are hard at work to get the better of the poor.  Such is the curse of Adam, and man himself must be changed before the disease can be cured.  All we can do, under the best constructed system, is to mitigate the evil.

We left Frankfort at eleven, declining the services of a celebrated voiturier, called le petit Savoyard, whom Francois introduced, with a warm recommendation of fidelity and zeal.  These men are extensively known, and carry their soubriquets, as ships do their names.  The little Savoyard had just discharged a cargo of miladies, bound to England, after having had them on his charter-party eighteen months, and was now on the look-out for a return freight.  As his whole equipments were four horses, the harness, and a long whip, he was very desirous of the honour of dragging my carriage a hundred leagues or so, towards any part of the earth whither it might suit my pleasure to proceed.  But it is to be presumed that miladies were of full weight, for even Francois, who comes of a family of voituriers, and has a fellow-feeling for the craft, is obliged to admit that the cattle of le petit appear to have been overworked.  This negotiation occupied an hour, and it ended by sending the passport to the post.