E-text prepared by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net)
from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive
(https://archive.org)

A
VIEW
OF
SOCIETY and MANNERS
IN
FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, AND GERMANY:

WITH
ANECDOTES relating to some EMINENT CHARACTERS.

BY JOHN MOORE, M.D.

VOL. II.

The FOURTH EDITION, Corrected.

LONDON:
Printed for W. Strahan; and T. Cadell, in the Strand,
MDCCLXXXI.

CONTENTS
OF THE
SECOND VOLUME.

A
VIEW
OF
SOCIETY and MANNERS
IN
France, Switzerland, and Germany.

LETTER L.

Frankfort.

DEAR SIR,

Since my return from Darmstadt, the weather has been so very bad, that I have passed the time mostly at home. That I may obey your injunctions to write regularly at the stated periods, I will send you the substance of a conversation I had within these few days with a foreigner, a man of letters, with whom I am in a considerable degree of intimacy.

This gentleman has never been in England, but he speaks the language a little, understands it very well, and has studied many of our best Authors. He said, that he had found in some English books, a solidity of reasoning, and a strength of expression, superior to any thing he had met with elsewhere;—that the English history furnished examples of patriotism and zeal for civil liberty, equal to what was recorded in the Greek or Roman story;—that English poetry displayed a sublimity of thought, and a knowledge of the human heart, which no writings, ancient or modern, could surpass; and in philosophy it was pretty generally allowed, that the English nation had no rival.—He then mentioned the improvements made by Englishmen in medicine and other arts, their superiority in navigation, commerce, and manufactures; and even hinted something in praise of a few English statesmen. He concluded his panegyric by saying, that these considerations had given him the highest idea of the English nation, and had led him to cultivate the acquaintance of many Englishmen whom he had occasionally met on their travels. But he frankly acknowledged, that his connection with these had not contributed to support the idea he had formed of their nation.

As I had heard sentiments of the same kind insinuated by others, I replied at some length, observing, that if he had lived in the most brilliant period of Roman grandeur, and had accidentally met with a few Romans in Greece or Asia, and had formed his opinion of that illustrious commonwealth from the conduct and conversation of these travellers, his ideas would, in all probability, have been very different from those which the writings of Livy, Cæsar, Cicero, and Virgil, had given him of the Roman people:—That the manners and behaviour of the few English he might have met abroad, so far from giving him a just view of the character of the whole nation, very possibly had led him to false conclusions with regard to the character of those very individuals. For that I myself had known many young Englishmen who, after having led a dissipated, insignificant kind of life while on their travels, and while the natural objects of their ambition were at a distance, had changed their conduct entirely upon their return, applied to business as eagerly as they had formerly launched into extravagance, and had at length become very useful members of the community.

But, continued I, throwing this consideration out of the question, the real character of a people can only be discovered by living among them on a familiar footing, and for a considerable time. This is necessary before we can form a just idea of any nation; but perhaps more so with respect to the English, than any other: for in no nation are the education, sentiments, and pursuits of those who travel, so different from those of the people who remain at home.

The first class is composed of a few invalids, a great many young men raw from the university, and some idle men of fortune, void of ambition, and incapable of application, who, every now and then, saunter through Europe, because they know not how to employ their time at home.

The second class is made up of younger brothers, who are bred to the army, navy, the law, and other professions;—all who follow commerce, are employed in manufactures, or farming;—and, in one word, all who, not being born to independent fortunes, endeavour to remedy that inconveniency by industry, and the cultivation of their talents.

England is the only country in Europe whose inhabitants never leave it in search of fortune. There are, moderately speaking, twenty Frenchmen in London for every Englishman at Paris. By far the greater part of those Frenchmen travel to get money, and almost all the English to spend it. But we should certainly be led into great errors, by forming an idea of the character of the French nation from that of the French fiddlers, dancing-masters, dentists, and valet-de-chambres to be met with in England, or other parts of Europe.

The gentleman acknowledged, that it would be unfair to decide on the French character from that of their fiddlers and dancing-masters; but added, that he did not perceive that the English could reasonably complain, should foreigners form an opinion of their national character from the men of fortune, rank, and the most liberal education of their island.

I answered, they certainly would, because young men of high rank and great fortune carry a set of ideas along with them from their infancy, which very often disappoint the purposes of the best education.—— Let a child of high rank be brought up with all the care and attention the most judicious parents and matters can give;—let him be told, that personal qualities alone can make him truly respectable;—that the fortuitous circumstances of birth and fortune afford no just foundation for esteem;—that knowledge and virtue are the true sources of honour and happiness;—that idleness produces vice and misery;—that without application he cannot acquire knowledge;—and that without knowledge he will dwindle into insignificance, in spite of rank and fortune:—— Let these things be inculcated with all the power of persuasion; let them be illustrated by example, and insinuated by fable and allegory;—yet, do we not daily see the effect of all this counteracted by the insinuations of servants and base sycophants, who give an importance to far different qualities, and preach a much more agreeable doctrine?——

They make eternal allusions in all their discourse and behaviour to the great estate the young spark is one day to have, and the great man he must be, independent of any effort of his own. They plainly insinuate, if they do not directly say it, that study and application, tho’ proper enough for hospital boys, is unnecessary, or perhaps unbecoming a man of fashion. They talk with rapture of the hounds, hunters, and race-horses of one great man; of the rich liveries and brilliant equipage of another; and how much both are loved and admired for their liberality to their servants. They tell their young master, that his rank and estate entitle him to have finer hounds, horses, liveries and equipage than either, and to be more liberal to his servants; and consequently a greater man in every respect. This kind of poison, being often poured upon the young sprouts of fortune and quality, gradually blasts the vigour of the plants, and renders all care and cultivation ineffectual.

If we suppose that domestics of another character could be placed about a boy of high rank, and every measure taken to inspire him with other sentiments; he cannot stir abroad, he cannot go into company without perceiving his own importance, and the attention that is paid to him. His childish pranks are called spirited actions; his pert speeches are converted into bon mots; and when reproved or punished by his parent or master, ten to one but some obsequious intermeddler will tell him that he has suffered great injustice.

The youth, improving all this to the purposes of indolence and vanity, arrives at length at the comfortable persuasion, that study or application of any kind would in him be superfluous;—that he ought only to seek amusement, for at the blessed age of twenty-one, distinction, deference, admiration, and all other good things will be added unto him.

A young man, on the other hand, who is born to no such expectations, has no sycophants around him to pervert his understanding;—when he behaves improperly, he instantly sees the marks of disapprobation on every countenance:—He daily meets with people who inform him of his faults without ceremony or circumlocution.—He perceives that nobody cares for his bad humour or caprice, and very naturally concludes that he had best correct his temper.—He finds that he is apt to be neglected in company, and that the only remedy for this inconveniency will be the rendering himself agreeable.—He loves affluence, distinction, and admiration, as well as the rich and great; but becomes fully convinced that he can never obtain even the shadow of them, otherwise than by useful and ornamental acquirements. The truth of those precepts, which is proved by rhetoric and syllogism to the boy of fortune, is experimentally felt by him who has no fortune; and the difference which this makes, is infinite.

So that the son of a gentleman of moderate fortune has a probability of knowing more of the world at the age of sixteen, and of having a juster notion of people’s sentiments of him, than a youth of very high rank at a much more advanced age; for it is very difficult for any person to find out that he is despised while he continues to be flattered.

So far, therefore, from being surprised that dissipation, weakness and ignorance, are so prevalent among those who are born to great fortunes and high rank, we ought to be astonished to see so great a number of men of virtue, diligence and genius among them as there is. And if the number be proportionably greater in England than in any other country, which I believe is the case, this must proceed from the impartial discipline of our public schools; and the equitable treatment which boys of the greatest rank receive from their comrades. Sometimes the natural, manly sentiments they acquire from their school companions, serve as an antidote against the childish, sophistical notions with which weak or designing men endeavour to inspire them in after-life.

The nature of the British constitution contributes also to form a greater number of men of talents among the wealthy and the great, than are to be found in other countries; because it opens a wider field for ambition than any other government;—and ambition excites those exertions which produce talents.

But, continued I, you must acknowledge that it would be improper to form a judgment of the English genius, by samples taken from men who have greater temptations to indolence, and fewer spurs to application than others.

My disputant still contested the point, and asserted that high birth gave a native dignity and elevation to the mind;—that distinctions and honours were originally introduced into families by eminent abilities and great virtues;—that when a man of illustrious birth came into a company, or even when his name was mentioned, this naturally raised a recollection of the great actions and shining qualities of the eminent person who had first acquired those honours;—that a consciousness of this must naturally stimulate the present possessor to imitate the virtues of his ancestors;—that his degenerating would subject him to the highest degree of censure, as the world could not, without indignation, behold indolence and vice adorned with the rewards of activity and virtue.

I might have disputed this assertion, that honours and titles are always the rewards of virtue; and could have produced abundance of instances of the opposite proposition. But I allowed that they often were so, and that hereditary honours in a family always ought to have, and sometimes had, the effect which he supposed: but these concessions being made in their fullest extent, still he would do injustice to the English, by forming a judgment of their national character from what he had observed of the temper, manners, and genius of those Englishmen with whom he had been acquainted in foreign countries; because three-fourths of them were, in all probability, men of fortune, without having family or high birth to boast of; so that they had the greatest inducements to indolence, without possessing the motives to virtuous exertions, which influence people of high rank.—For, though it rarely happened in other countries, it was very common in England for men of all the various professions and trades to accumulate very great fortunes, which, at their death, falling to their sons, these young men, without having had a suitable education, immediately set up for gentlemen, and run over Europe in the characters of Milords Anglois, game, purchase pictures, mutilated statues and mistresses, to the astonishment of all beholders: And, conscious of the blot in their escutcheon, they think it is incumbent on them to wash it out, and make up for the impurity of their blood, by plunging deeper into the ocean of extravagance than is necessary for a man of hereditary fashion.

Here our conversation ended, and the gentleman promised that he would abide by the idea he had formed of the English nation from the works of Milton, Locke and Newton, and the characters of Raleigh, Hambden, and Sidney.

LETTER LI.

Frankfort.

Among the remarkable things in Frankfort the inns may be reckoned. Two in particular, the Emperor and the Red House, for cleanliness, conveniency, and number of apartments, are superior to any I ever saw on the continent, and vie with our most magnificent inns in England.

At these, as at all other inns in Germany and Switzerland, there is an ordinary, at which the strangers may dine and sup. This is called the Table d’Hôte, from the circumstance of the landlord’s sitting at the bottom of the table and carving the victuals. The same name for an ordinary is still retained in France, tho’ the landlord does not sit at the table, which was the case formerly in that country, and still is the custom in Germany.

There are no private lodgings to be had here as in London, nor any hôtels garnis as in Paris. Strangers therefore retain apartments at the inn during the whole time of their residence in any of the towns. And travellers of every denomination in this country under the rank of sovereign princes, make no scruple of eating occasionally at the table d’Hôte of the inn where they lodge, which custom is universally followed by strangers from every country on the continent of Europe.

Many of our countrymen, however, who despise œconomy, and hate the company of strangers, prefer eating in their own apartments to the table d’Hôte, or any private table to which they may be invited.

It would be arrogance in any body to dispute the right which every free-born Englishman has to follow his own inclination in this particular: Yet when people wish to avoid the company of strangers, it strikes me, that they might indulge their fancy as completely at home as abroad; and while they continue in that humour, I cannot help thinking that they might save themselves the inconveniency and expence of travelling.

The manners and genius of nations, it is true, are not to be learnt at inns; nor is the most select company to be found at public ordinaries; yet a person of observation, and who is fond of the study of character, will sometimes find instruction and entertainment at both. He there sees the inhabitants of the country on a less ceremonious footing than he can elsewhere, and hears the remarks of travellers of every degree.

The first care of a traveller certainly should be, to form an acquaintance and some degree of intimacy with the principal people in every place where he intends to reside;—to accept invitations to their family parties, and attend their societies;—to entertain them at his apartments, when that can be conveniently done, and endeavour to acquire a just notion of their government, customs, sentiments, and manner of living.—Those who are fond of the study of man, which, with all due deference to the philosophers who prefer that of beasts, birds and butterflies, is also a pardonable amusement, will mix occasionally with all degrees of people, and, when not otherwise engaged, will not scruple to take a seat at the table d’Hôte.

It is said that low people are sometimes to be found at these ordinaries. This to be sure is a weighty objection; but then it should be remembered, that it is within the bounds of possibility that men even engaged in commerce, may have liberal minds, and may be able to give as distinct accounts of what is worthy of observation, as if they had been as idle as people of the highest fashion through the whole of their lives. A man must have a very turgid idea of his own grandeur, if he cannot submit, in a foreign country, to dine at table with a person of inferior rank; especially as he will meet, at the same time, with others of equal, or superior rank to himself: For all etiquette of this nature is waved even in Germany at the tables d’Hôtes.

A knowledge of the characters of men, as they appear varied in different situations and countries;—the study of human nature indeed in all its forms and modifications, is highly interesting to the mind, and worthy the attention of the greatest man. This is not to be perfectly attained in courts and palaces. The investigator of nature must visit her in humbler life, and put himself on a level with the men whom he wishes to know.

It is generally found, that those who possess real greatness of mind, never hesitate to overleap the obstacles, and despise the forms, which may stand in the way of their acquiring this useful knowledge.

The most powerful of all arguments against entirely declining to appear at the public table of the inn, is, that in this country it is customary for the ladies themselves, when on a journey, to eat there; and my partiality for the table d’Hôte may possibly be owing in some degree to my having met, at one of them, with two of the handsomest women that I have seen since I have been in this country, which abounds in female beauty.

There is more expression in the countenances of French women, but the ladies in Germany have the advantage in the fairness of their skin and the bloom of their complexion. They have a greater resemblance to English women than to French; yet they differ considerably from them both.—I do not know how to give an idea of the various shades of expression, which, if I mistake not, I can distinguish in the features of the sex in these three countries.

A handsome French woman, besides the ease of her manner, has commonly a look of cheerfulness and great vivacity.—She appears willing to be acquainted with you, and seems to expect that you should address her.

The manner of an English woman is not so devoid of restraint; and a stranger, especially if he be a foreigner, may observe a look which borders on disdain in her countenance. Even among the loveliest features, something of a sulky air often appears. While their beauty allures, this in some degree checks that freedom of address which you might use to the Frenchwoman, and interests your vanity more, by giving the idea of the difficulties you have to conquer.

A German beauty, without the smart air of the one, or the reserve of the other, has generally a more placid look than either.

LETTER LII.

Frankfort.

Several individuals here are fond of distinguishing themselves by their passion for the fine arts, and strangers are informed, that it is well worth while to visit certain private collections of paintings which are to be seen at Frankfort.

You know I am no connoisseur; and if I were, should not take up your time in describing them, or giving a criticism on their subject. For though I have seen them, you have not; and nothing, in my opinion, can be more unintelligible and tiresome to the Reader, than criticisms on paintings which he has not seen. I shall only observe, that as all these collections have acquired the esteem and approbation of the proprietors, which I presume was the chief end of their creation, they are certainly intitled to respect from every unconcerned spectator.—— One of them in particular must be very valuable, on account of the prodigious sum of money which the present possessor was offered for it, and which he refused as inadequate to its worth; though the sum offered would have at once made the gentleman easy in his circumstances, which, I am sorry to say, is far from being the case. This anecdote cannot be doubted, for I had it from his own mouth.

It is still more the fashion here to form cabinets of natural curiosities. Besides the repositories of this kind, which are to be seen at the courts of the princes, many individuals all over Germany have Museums in their houses, and strangers cannot pay their court better, than by requesting permission to see them. This would be an easy piece of politeness, if the stranger were allowed to take a view, and walk away when he thought proper. But the misfortune is, that the proprietor attends on these occasions, and gives the history of every piece of ore, petrifaction, fossil-wood, and monster that is in the collection. And as this lecture is given gratis, he assumes the right of making it as long as he pleases: so that requesting a sight of a private collection of natural curiosities, is a more serious matter than people are aware of.

The D—— of H—— has brought himself into a scrape, out of which I imagine it will be difficult to extricate him. Being unacquainted with the trouble which these gentlemen give themselves on such occasions, he has expressed an inclination to three or four virtuosi to see their cabinets. I attended him on his first visitation yesterday. The gentleman made an unusual exertion to please his Grace. He said, being fully convinced of his taste for natural philosophy, in which people of his high rank were never deficient, he would therefore take pleasure to explain every particular in the collection with the greatest deliberation. He had kept himself disengaged the whole forenoon on purpose, and had given orders not to be interrupted. He then descanted on each particular in the collection, with such minuteness and perseverance, as completely satiated His Grace’s curiosity, and gave him such a knowledge of earths, crystals, agates, pyrites, marcasites, petrifactions, metals, semi-metals, &c. &c. as will, I dare swear, serve him for the rest of his life.

Cassel.

I began this letter at Frankfort, not suspecting that our departure would be so sudden. But as the day approached on which we had been promised the sight of another cabinet of curiosities, I found the D——’s impatience to be gone increase every moment. So sending our apology to the proprietors of two or three which he had asked permission to visit, we passed one day with Madame de Barkhause’s family, and another with Mr. Gogle’s, and then bidding a hasty adieu to our other acquaintances at Frankfort, we set out for this place. We slept the first night at Marburg, and on the second, about midnight, arrived at Cassel.

As the ground is quite covered with snow, the roads bad, and the posts long, we were obliged to take six horses for each chaise, which, after all, in some places moved no faster than a couple of hearses. The D—— bore this with wonderful serenity, contemplating the happy evasion he had made from the cabinets at Frankfort. A slave who had escaped from the mines could not have shown greater satisfaction. His good humour remained proof against all the phlegm and obstinacy of the German postillions, of which one who has not travelled in the extremity of the winter, and when the roads are covered with snow, through this country, can form no idea.

The contrast of character between the French and Germans is strongly illustrated in the behaviour of the postillions of the two countries.

A French postillion is generally either laughing, or fretting, or singing, or swearing, all the time he is on the road. If a hill or a bad road oblige him to go slow, he will of a sudden fall a cracking his whip above his head for a quarter of an hour together, without rhyme or reason; for he knows the horses cannot go a bit faster, and he does not intend they should. All this noise and emotion, therefore, means nothing; and proceeds entirely from that abhorrence of quiet which every Frenchman sucks in with his mother’s milk.

A German postillion, on the contrary, drives four horses with all possible tranquillity. He neither sings, nor frets, nor laughs: he only smokes;—and when he comes near a narrow defile, he sounds his trumpet to prevent any carriage from entering at the other end till he has got through. If you call to him to go faster, he turns about, looks you in the face, takes his pipe from his mouth, and says, Yaw, Mynher;—yaw, yaw; and then proceeds exactly in the same pace as before. He is no way affected whether the road be good or bad; whether it rains, or shines, or snows:—And he seems to be totally regardless of the people whom he drives, and equally callous to their reproach or applause. He has one object of which he never loses sight, which is, to conduct your chaise and the contents from one post to another, in the manner he thinks best for himself and the horses. And unless his pipe goes out (in which case he strikes his flint and rekindles it), he seems not to have another idea during the whole journey.

Your best course is to let him take his own way at first, for it will come to that at last.—All your noise and bluster are vain.