enter into every man’s habits.  It was almost deemed immoral to breakfast or dine at an hour later than one’s neighbour.  Now, just this sort of feeling, one quite as vulgar, and much more malignant, prevails in Europe against those who may see fit to entertain more liberal notions in politics than others of their class.  In England, I have already told you, the system is so factitious, and has been so artfully constructed, by blending church and state, that it must be an uncommonly clever man who, in politics, can act vigorously on the golden rule of Christ, that of doing “unto others, as you would have others do unto you,” and escape the imputation of infidelity!  A desire to advance the interests of his fellow-creatures, by raising them in the social scale, is almost certain to cause a man to be set down as destitute of morals and honesty.  By imputations of this nature, the efforts and influence of some of the best men England has ever produced, have been nearly neutralized, and there is scarcely a distinguished liberal in the kingdom, at this moment, whom even the well-meaning of the church-and-state party do not regard with a secret distrust of his intentions and character.  In the practice of imitation this feeling has even extended (though in a mitigated form) to America, a country in which, were the truth felt and understood, a man could not possibly fulfil all the obligations of education and superior training, without being of the party of the people.  Many gentlemen in America, beyond dispute, are not of the popular side, but I am of opinion that they make a fundamental mistake as gentlemen.  They have permitted the vulgar feelings generated by contracted associations and the insignificant evils of a neighbourhood, to still within them the high feelings and generous tendencies that only truly belong to the caste.

In France, the English feeling, modified by circumstances, is very apparent, although it is not quite so much the fashion to lay stress on mere morality.  The struggle of selfishness and interests is less veiled and mystified in France than on the other side of the Channel.  But the selfish principle, if anything, is more active; and few struggle hard for others, without being suspected of base motives.

By looking back at the publications of the time, you will learn the manner in which Washington was vituperated by his enemies, at the commencement of the revolution.  Graydon, in his “Memoirs of a Life spent in Pennsylvania,” mentions a discourse he held with a young English officer, who evidently was well disposed, and wished to know the truth.  This gentleman had been taught to believe Washington an adventurer, who had squandered the property of a young widow whom he had married, by gambling and dissipation, and who was now ready to embark in any desperate enterprise to redeem his fortune!  This, then, was probably the honest opinion the British army, in 1776, entertained of the man, whom subsequent events have shown to have