Vienna.
Our disputes with the colonies have been a prevailing topic of
conversation wherever we have been since we left England. The warmth
with which this subject is handled increases every day.—At present the
inhabitants of the continent seem as impatient as those of Great Britain,
for news from the other side of the Atlantic, but with this difference,
that here they are all of one mind:—all praying for success to the
Americans, and rejoicing in every piece of bad fortune which happens to
our army.
That the French should be pleased with commotions which must distress
and weaken Great Britain, and may transfer to them an equal right to
every advantage we gained by the last war, is not surprising; but why the
inhabitants of every other country should take part against England, and
become partizans of America, is not so apparent.
I should forgive them, and even join in sentiment with them, as far as
my regard for the honour and happiness of my country would permit, if
this proceeded from an attachment to liberty, and a generous partiality
for men who repel oppression, and struggle for independency.—But this is
not the case.—Those who can reap no possible advantage from the revolt
of America; those who have not an idea of civil liberty, and would even
be sorry to see it established in their own country; those who have no
other knowledge of the dispute, than that it is ruining England; all join
as allies to the Americans, not from love to them, but evidently from
dislike to us.
When I first observed this hostile disposition, I thought it might
proceed from their being offended at that preference which the English
give to their own country and countrymen, above all others: but this
conceit we have in common with every other nation on the globe, all of
whom cherish the same favourable opinion of themselves. It assuredly
prevails in France in an eminent degree.—There is hardly one sceptic or
unbeliever in the whole nation.—It is the universal creed, that France
is the finest country in the world; the French the most ingenious and
most amiable people, excelling in all the arts of peace and war; and that
Paris is the capital of politeness, and the center of learning, genius,
and taste.
This satisfaction at the misfortunes of Great Britain cannot therefore
arise from a cause which is applicable to every other country. It may,
indeed, in some measure, proceed from envy of the riches, and jealousy
of the power of the English nation; but, I believe, still more from our
taking no trouble to conciliate the affections of foreigners, and to
diminish that envy and ill-will which great prosperity often creates.
The French, though perhaps the vainest people on earth of their own
advantages, have some degree of consideration for the feelings and
self-love of their neighbours. A Frenchman endeavours to draw from
them an acknowledgment of the superiority of his country, by making an
elogium on whatever is excellent in theirs. But we are apt to build our
panegyric of Old England, on the ruin and wretchedness of all other
countries.—Italy is too hot, the inns miserable, and the whole country
swarms with monks and other vermin.—In France, the people are slaves
and coxcombs, the music execrable;—they boil their meat to rags, and
there is no porter, and very little strong ale, in the country.—In
Germany, some of their Princes have little more to spend than an English
gentleman:—They use stoves instead of grates:—They eat sour crout, and
speak High Dutch.—The Danes and Swedes are reminded, that they are
rather at too great a distance from the equator; and many sly hints are
given concerning the inconveniencies of a cold climate.—Of all things, I
should think it most prudent to be silent on this last topic, as so many
paltry states will take precedency of Old England, whenever it is the
established etiquette that rank shall be determined by climate.
But this consideration has no effect on my honest friend John Bull.
When he is in a choleric humour, he will not spare his best friends and
nearest neighbours, even when he has most need of their assistance,
and when those at a distance seem to have plotted his ruin.—If his own
sister Peg should show a disposition to forget old squabbles, to live in
friendship with her brother, and should declare that all who renounced
his friendship were her enemies, and resolve to conquer by his side, or
if that should fail, to die hard along with him—No! d—n ye, says John,
none of your coaxing:—You be d—d! you are farther North than I—Keep your
distance.—And so he falls a pelting Peg with her own snow-balls; and then
turning from her, he attacks Lewis Baboon, Lord Strut, Lord Peter, and
dashes their soup maigre, olio’s, and maccaroni, full in their teeth.
But to drop allegory; the universal satisfaction which appears all over
Europe, at the idea of England’s being stript of her colonies, certainly
does not intirely originate from political sentiments; but in a great
degree from that reserve which keeps Englishmen from cultivating the
friendship of foreigners; that pride which hinders them from stooping
to humour prejudices; that indifference which makes them disregard the
approbation of others, and betray the contempt they are too ready to
entertain for customs or sentiments different from their own.
These are things not easily forgiven, and for which no superiority of
genius, magnanimity, or integrity, can compensate. The same causes which
have made foreigners take part against us in the dispute with America,
induce those of them who are rich, and can spend their revenues out of
their own country, to prefer France to England for that purpose. The
difference between London and Paris in point of climate is very small.
The winter amusements of the former are more magnificent; and perhaps
every conveniency, and most of the luxuries of life are to be found there
in greater perfection. During the summer months, by superior skill
in agriculture and a better taste in gardening, England displays such
scenes of cultivation, of verdure and fertility, as no country on earth
can equal. To these are added the blessings of liberty; yet few or no
foreigners reside in England, except those she maintains entirely at her
own expence; all the wealthy, after a short visit to London, returning to
spend their fortunes at Paris.
Exclusive of pecuniary advantages, it flatters the natural vanity of
the French to find their society preferred to that of all other people,
and particularly to that of their proud rivals.—Let them enjoy this
advantage; let them draw to their capital the idle, the dissipated, and
the effeminate of every country in Europe:—but for heaven’s sake, do you
and your friends in parliament fall on some measure to prevent them from
engaging the affections of our industrious brethren of America.
Such an event would be attended with severe consequences to Great
Britain, and probably to America. There are, however, so many repelling
points in the American and French characters, that I cannot imagine the
adhesion between them could be of long duration, should it take place.
You may naturally suppose, from some things in this letter, that the
people here are in a particular manner inveterate against England, in her
dispute with America. But in reality this is not the case: for although
in general they favour America, I have not seen so much moderation on
that question any where as at Vienna. The Emperor, when some person asked
which side he favoured, replied very ingeniously, Je suis par métier
royaliste.
I wish those of our countrymen, who by your account seem to be carrying
their zeal for America too far, would remember qu’ils font par naisance
Anglois.
Just as I was concluding the above I received yours, informing me that
your young friend was in a short time to set out on the usual tour
through Europe. I shall take another opportunity of writing to him on the
subject you desire, at present I must confine myself to the few following
hints.
I hope he will always remember that virtue and good sense are not
confined to any particular place, and that one end of travelling is
to free the mind from vulgar prejudices—he ought therefore to form
connections, and live on a social footing with the inhabitants of the
different countries through which he passes; let him at least seem
pleased while he remains among them; this is the most effectual method of
making them pleased with him, and of his accomplishing every object he
can have in visiting their country.
There are instances of Englishmen, who, while on their travels, shock
foreigners by an ostentatious preference of England to all the rest of
the world, and ridicule the manners, customs, and opinions of every other
nation, yet on their return to their own country, immediately assume
foreign manners, and continue during the remainder of their lives to
express the highest contempt for every thing that is English.—— I hope he
will entirely avoid such perverse and ridiculous affectation.
The taste for letters which he has acquired at the university, I dare say
will not be diminished on classic ground, or his mind be diverted, by a
frivolous enthusiasm for music, or any other passion, from the manly
studies and pursuits which become an English gentleman.
As he regards the confidence of his friends, the preservation of his
character, and the tranquillity of his mind, let no example, however
high, lead him into the practice of deep play. By avoiding gaming he will
secure one kind of independence, and at the same time keep possession
of another, by continuing the habit of study, till the acquisition of
knowledge has become one of his most pleasing amusements.—Unlike those
wretched mortals, who, to drag through the dreary hours of life, are
continually obliged to have recourse to the assistance of others, this
fortunate turn of mind will add to his own happiness, while it renders
him more useful to, and less dependent on, society.
The preceding sermon, if you think proper, you may deliver to the young
traveller, with my best wishes.
Having delayed our journey several weeks longer than was intended,
merely from a reluctance of leaving a place which we have found so very
agreeable, we have at length determined to set out for Italy—and are
to go by the Duchies of Stiria and Carinthia, which is a shorter route
than that by the Tirol. As the time we are to remain at Vienna will be
entirely employed in the necessary arrangements for the journey, and the
painful ceremony of taking leave of friends, you will not hear again from
me till we arrive at Venice.—Mean while, I am, &c.
* * * * * *
Transcriber’s note:
Evident printing errors have been changed, but otherwise the
original (and antiquated) spelling has been preserved, in both
English and French.