However prepared a youth may be, by all the cautious injunctions of friends, and by the detail of knaveries practised by such characters, still it is by no means easy to avoid the snare! When we reflect on the anxiety inseparably attendant upon arrival in a country where every thing is new, every thing strange, and where, in case of disappointment, all must be misery; it should not surprize us to find so much dependence placed on those who cheer the novice, by speaking to him in his native tongue. But, admitting the folly of confiding in any stranger, how is the case to be ameliorated? Ignorant of the language, as well as of the customs; totally unacquainted with any soul on the spot; and eager to obtain a shelter from the oppressive heats; what is the poor adventurer to do? He cannot remain in the boat! He cannot take root, and vegetate, at the water side! Nor can he perambulate the public roads, until fatigue shall sink him to the dust, or some benevolent, and inspired European may, on perceiving his distress, offer him an asylum! What then is to be done?—Why, the _sircar_ must lead him to some paltry tavern, in which he either is interested, or from whose keeper he receives a douceur for introducing the guest. In the mean time, his baggage, with the exception of such minutiæ as may adhere to the fingers of the boat-men, or of those who have the handling of them on shore, will follow, and there will be no want of attention to immediate accommodation. The tavern-keeper, under the plausible pretext of aiding towards the completion of the youth’s wishes, never fails to enquire whether the gentleman has any friends in town? or even in the country? If affirmatively answered, ‘mine host’ feels himself tolerably secure of his money: but will probably assert, that the friend in town is out of the way, and will not be back for some days: should the gentleman be totally destitute of friends, then comes the rich harvest. Imposition following imposition, swell the bill; which, if appearances warrant forbearance, is kept back as long as possible, under the pleasing assurance of perfect confidence: but, in the end, a catalogue of items is produced, which never fails to alarm, if not to ruin, the unsuspecting victim!