have induced me to pay you a visit, which I hope you
will not think troublesome: I should be glad
to spend a few hours in your garden. “The
greatest advantage,” replied he, “which
I receive from what thee callest my botanical fame,
is the pleasure which it often procureth me in receiving
the visits of friends and foreigners: but our
jaunt into the garden must be postponed for the present,
as the bell is ringing for dinner.” We
entered into a large hall, where there was a long
table full of victuals; at the lowest part sat his
negroes, his hired men were next, then the family
and myself; and at the head, the venerable father
and his wife presided. Each reclined his head
and said his prayers, divested of the tedious cant
of some, and of the ostentatious style of others.
“After the luxuries of our cities,” observed
he, “this plain fare must appear to thee a severe
fast.” By no means, Mr. Bertram, this honest
country dinner convinces me, that you receive me as
a friend and an old acquaintance. “I am
glad of it, for thee art heartily welcome. I
never knew how to use ceremonies; they are insufficient
proofs of sincerity; our society, besides, are utterly
strangers to what the world calleth polite expressions.
We treat others as we treat ourselves. I received
yesterday a letter from Philadelphia, by which I understand
thee art a Russian; what motives can possibly have
induced thee to quit thy native country and to come
so far in quest of knowledge or pleasure? Verily
it is a great compliment thee payest to this our young
province, to think that anything it exhibiteth may
be worthy thy attention.” I have been most
amply repaid for the trouble of the passage.
I view the present Americans as the seed of future
nations, which will replenish this boundless continent;
the Russians may be in some respects compared to you;
we likewise are a new people, new I mean in knowledge,
arts, and improvements. Who knows what revolutions
Russia and America may one day bring about; we are
perhaps nearer neighbours than we imagine. I
view with peculiar attention all your towns, I examine
their situation and the police, for which many are
already famous. Though their foundations are
now so recent, and so well remembered, yet their origin
will puzzle posterity as much as we are now puzzled
to ascertain the beginning of those which time has
in some measure destroyed. Your new buildings,
your streets, put me in mind of those of the city
of Pompeia, where I was a few years ago; I attentively
examined everything there, particularly the foot-path
which runs along the houses. They appeared to
have been considerably worn by the great number of
people which had once travelled over them. But
now how distant; neither builders nor proprietors remain;
nothing is known! “Why thee hast been a
great traveller for a man of thy years.”
Few years, Sir, will enable anybody to journey over
a great tract of country; but it requires a superior
degree of knowledge to gather harvests as we go.