9th. Wages.—Not so much as in England, taking the year through.
July 6th.—Visited the house of the President, a good, substantial, pleasant abode, but neither so elegant, superb, nor costly as the seats of our nobility. I saw nothing about it remarkable; no pictures, save Washington's; no curiosities, no painted ceilings. The walls are covered with French paper, and the rooms are furnished with French furniture. Its front looks over the Potowmac and Alexandria, down to Mount Vernon, through a vast extent of Southern Virginian scenery. A favourite English butler shewed us all, and regaled us with good biscuit, brandy, and sherry.
7th.—This morning the Hon. Thomas Law, accompanied by Mr. Elliott, made me a call in return for mine. He very politely regretted his absence when I called, and invited me to come and spend a day or two with him at his farm, for the purpose of concluding the conversation now commenced in the following words.
Mr. Law.—"You, Mr. F., saw my farm and garden. They are poor, but I will improve the gravelly hills by carting earth on to them from the [444] valleys. The English labourers sent to me by Mr. Curwen, I have dismissed. They could do nothing but plough; they were stupid, conceited, uncivil, and latterly drunken; whiskey, and the company they met, seduced them. When I began farming I knew not wheat from rye, or rye from barley; but I well know what are the benefits of farming." "You, Sir, pursue it only for your pleasure?" "No, Sir, I want profit." "In the present distressed state of agriculture little profit is to be had." "Truly so; but a paper circulation is wanted. Mr. Crawford fully agreed with me on this point, but disingenuously seceded from it in his report, on which account I have addressed several pointed letters to him, which I will send you as well as my address to the agricultural society of Prince George's county."
"On my return home shall I advise and recommend my countrymen to emigrate here?" "Why, Sir, I cannot answer that question. I have never recommended emigration, nor caused any to quit their country; every thing is strange and unsuitable to English farmers and labourers; he can cultivate with success only by slaves." "Have you, Mr. Law, no regrets at having spent so much of your time in this country?" "No, Sir, none whatever." "What, Sir, none at the loss of that society which you must have had in common with your family in England?" Here Mr. Law hesitated a little as if at a loss for an answer. "Why, [445] Sir, I once with Lord Cornwallis governed India. I returned and saw my acquaintance sliding into commerce, brewers, manufacturers, and merchants, to be cheated; such a course had no attractions for me, and I was opposed to the French war and other government measures. I therefore determined on visiting and ultimately on living in this country, where I have spent my time much to my satisfaction, never being at a loss for amusement. I write and read, and talk and visit, on the most familiar and friendly terms with my neighbours, with whom I frequently stay all night; and whenever I please, I can without ceremony go and talk frequently and freely with the President, Mr. Crawford, Calhoun, and all the heads of the government, and therefore I have the best society the land affords." "But, Sir, there are the honours and emoluments of England which must have been yours." "My wants were then, and have always been, very few. I believe I have always been happier than any of my brothers. As I never knew how to say 'My lord' to any man, I did not seek or want honours or emoluments. I saw my family and friends dependant on the funds which are likely some day to beggar them and many others; a situation from which I fled." "What, Mr. Law, is likely to remedy the diseases of England?" "Sir! England is over-peopled. It is not wholly the fault of the government. A famine will be the remedy." "Could not the surplus population [446] be transported to the colonies?" "No, Sir. A famine is the only remedy." "But, Sir, is not a famine calculated to plunge the country into a dreadful political convulsion and revolution?" "It is, Sir, but the government is not blameable."
"Morally considered, or with respect to morals, do you not think the population of this country inferior to that of England?" "The people in the mass are here more intelligent. You now see them at the worst time. You see them generally acting unworthily and meanly, but their poverty and not their will consents. As to slaves, they steal." "And they have a right to steal," said a third person. I answered, "They, to be sure, have been robbed on a broad scale." "Why, Sir, the friends of slavery insist on it that slavery is essential to the existence of liberty. To what conclusions will they not come?"
"Is there, Mr. Law, no aristocratical feeling in this country?" "Yes, Sir, amongst the black population." "You mean, Sir, amongst the masters of blacks?" "Yes, Sir. You, Sir, have visited Mr. Birkbeck?" "I have." "Is he not a very pleasant, intelligent man?" "He is highly so." "What is he doing?" "Fast spending dollars." "Had he raised any produce?" "None." "Why?" "He had been, he said, occupied in settling his neighbours, who together with himself have been supplied with provisions from Harmony at 100 per cent, above their value; but cheaper, they have [447] said, than they could have then and there raised them." "I, Sir, do not approve of going into the wilderness away from market and society, while land is to be had with both. What is Harmony?" "It is a most flourishing settlement, and indeed the only flourishing one I saw in the wilderness. What think you, Mr. Law, of the climate?" "Why, Sir, as Lloyd says,
"With things at once so hot and cold,
I can no friendship hold."
Mr. Law talks in an oratorical manner, and with an energy of action which makes him appear much in earnest. He is full to overflowing, and quite inexhaustible. "His worth," says Mr. Elliott, "is not one-tenth of it known, but is thrown away upon this country."
"It is said, Sir, that the population of this country is systematically unprincipled, and almost without virtue." "That, Sir, is not true. In the cities, since the commercial distress, the people seem dishonest. The commercial demand from England, and the withdrawing a paper capital by this government, have driven the people to desperation. They are unjustly done by. They were once esteemed good customers. A circulating medium only is wanted to heal the breach. In the country the people are anxious to meet their engagements." "Do you, Sir, think that no remedy but famine remains for England?" "No, Sir! no other." "Then the sooner it comes the better." "But, Sir, (said he) [448] such confusion, and horror, and calamity, will characterize the catastrophe as the world has not seen." "Do you think it will exceed the French revolution? Will the people of England be more bloody and heartless in such a struggle than the French?" "The desperation of their situation will make them so. Consider, Sir, the rage, anguish, and collision of so many starving millions, screwed up into a space not larger than our state of Virginia. Here, Sir, we have plenty, and whether sleeping or waking are safe in our houses, and liberty and prosperity are secure. You, I find, are deputed to collect information. Dine with me on Monday, and I will get my sons out to meet you."