I never saw Brown of Philadelphia again, or recovered my lost capital.
It had gone where the good, or bad, niggers go; and I only hope "Brown" has gone there too! This misfortune filled up the measure of my troubles, though they were numerous enough already.
To get employment of a regular character, which became more necessary to me now than ever--was as impossible as it had been all along! Nobody seemed to want anybody like me, in spite of my being not unskilled in foreign languages, and up to clerk's work--having not yet forgotten the book-keeping which my crammer had crammed into me for the benefit of the "Polite Letter Writer Commissioners." I was not actually in necessity, as I had still sufficient funds left to defray my bare living expenses for some months, with strict economy; but I had not come to America merely to exist! I had left home to make my fortune, I tell you; and, how could I be satisfied at this state of things?
I was losing time, day by day; and not approaching one whit nearer to the object of my life! In addition to these reflections, I had found out the truth of the time- honoured maxim, "coelum non animam mutant qui trans mare currunt."-- I might go from the old world to the new; but I could not leave my old memories, my old thoughts behind me! At first, the novelty of things about me distracted my attention.
I was in a strange country amongst fresh faces, all connected only with the present, so that, I had little time to look back on the past.
Besides, I was hopeful of carving out a new career for myself; and hope is a sworn antagonist to retrospection.
But, as I began to get used to the place and people, never-forgotten scenes and associations came back to mind, which I felt were more difficult to banish now, three thousand miles away, than when I was on the spot with which they had been connected.
Oh! how, bustled about amidst a crowd of unsympathising strangers, to whom our domestic life is only an ideality, I longed for the quiet and charm and love of an English home! I think that your wanderers and prodigals and black sheep, little though you may believe it, appreciate family union and social ties much more than your steady-going respectables who never stray without the routine circle of upright existence; never err; are never banned as outcasts! The former look upon "home"-- what a world does the very name convey to one who has never known what it is!--much as Moore's "Peri" regarded Paradise, and as the lost angels may wistfully think of the heaven from which they were expelled.

Perhaps they overrate its attributes, imagining, as they do, that it is a blissful state of being, for ever debarred to them; but they _do_ have such feelings--the dregs, probably, of their bitter nature! I can speak to the point, for, I was one of this class.
_I_ was a prodigal, a black sheep, a wanderer.

One on whom Fate had written on his forehead at his birth, "unstable as water, thou shalt not excel," and yet, I had the madness, (you may call it so,) to dream of regeneration and happiness! How many a time had I not pictured to myself the home of my longing.
Nothing grand or great occurred to me--my old ambitions were dead.
I only wished for a little domain of my own, where some _one_ would look up to me, at all events, watching for my coming, and receiving me with gladness "in sorrow or in rest." A kingdom of affection, where no angry word should be ever spoken or heard; where peace and love would reign, no matter what befell! It was a dream:--you are right.

I thought so, now, often enough, far away from England and all that I held dear; and, unsuccessful as I always had been, as I always seemed doomed to be! Happiness for me?
What a very ridiculous idea! I was a lunatic.

I should "laugh with myself," as poor Parole d'Honneur used to say! I knew what sundry kindly-natured persons would say, in the event of my returning to England empty-handed, were I to lead the steadiest life possible.--"Here is Frank Lorton back again like a bad penny!"-- they would sneer.--"Reformed from all his wild ways, eh?
Really, Mrs Grundy, you must not expect us to believe _that_! Can the leopard change his spots ?"--and so on; or else, kindly hint, that,--"when the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be: when the devil got well, the devil a monk was he."-- Oh yes, I had little doubt what _their_ charitable judgment would be! Still, the thought of these people's opinions did not oppress me much; for I knew equally well that, should some freak of Fate endow me with fame and fortune, they would be the first to receive me with open arms-- ignoring all my former social enormities .-- Their tune would be slightly different then! It would be--"Dear me! how glad we are to see him back! You know, Mrs Grundy, that you always said he would turn out well .-- His little fastnesses and Bohemian ways ?--Pooh! we won't speak of those now:--only the hot blood of youth, you know--signs of an ardent disposition--we all have our faults;"-- and so on.
No, I was not thinking much of "society's" opinion; but, of that of others, whose good esteem I really valued.