quency of invitations at late hours, which consume so
much precious time, and with the perpetually mortifying consciousness
of inability to return the civility in the same manner." The
republican simplicity, not to say poverty, forced upon American
representatives abroad, was a very different matter in the censorious
and unfriendly society of London from what it had been at the kindly
disposed Court of St. Petersburg. The relationship between the mother
country and the quondam colonies, especially at that juncture, was
such as to render social life intolerably trying to an under-paid
American minister.

Mr. Adams remained in England until June 15, 1817, when he sailed from
Cowes, closing forever his long and honorable diplomatic career, and
bidding his last farewell to Europe. He returned home to take the post
of Secretary of State in the cabinet of James Monroe, then lately
inaugurated as President of the United States.

CHAPTER II (p. 101)

SECRETARY OF STATE AND PRESIDENT

From the capitals of Russia and Great Britain to the capital of the
United States was a striking change. Washington, in its early struggle
for existence, was so unattractive a spot, that foreigners must have
been at a loss to discover the principle which had governed the
selection. It combined all the ugliness with all the discomfort of an
unprosperous frontier settlement on an ill-chosen site. What must
European diplomats have thought of a capital city where snakes two
feet long invaded gentlemen's drawing-rooms, and a carriage, bringing
home the guests from a ball, could be upset by the impenetrable depth
of quagmire at the very door of a foreign minister's residence. A
description of the city given by Mr. Mills, a Representative from
Massachusetts, in 1815, is pathetic in its unutterable horror:--

"It is impossible [he writes] for me to describe to you my
feelings on entering this miserable desert, this scene of
desolation and horror.... My anticipations were almost (p. 102)
infinitely short of the reality, and I can truly say that the
first appearance of this seat of the national government has
produced in me nothing but absolute loathing and disgust."

If the place wore such a dreadful aspect to the simple denizen of a
New England country town, what must it have seemed to those who were
familiar with London and Paris? To them the social