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of six-even if he do not ask for a gratuity, show palpably by his manner that he expects one. On the other hand, a gentleman would scarcely accept the slightest civility from a man of an inferior class without payment, even if none were demanded or expected. He pays for it to mark that he does not regard what has been done for him in the light of an act of courtesy from man to man, but as a service rendered him by a being so inferior to himself that there can be nothing in common between them. The rich man, in fact, exacts, on most occasions, a servile deference from the poor one-and pays for it; while the latter has so little self respect that he is only too willing to be paid.

No inequality of position or circumstances, however, will make a native of any portion of the United States submit to being dealt with in the manner, or spoken to in the tone, which, in this country, the "man in broadcloth" adopts as a matter of course towards the "man in fustian." No one, perhaps, has a keener appreciation of the advantages of wealth and education than the American; but that the possessor of them should feel justified in using towards him the language of a superior to an inferior is what he can not understand, and will not for one moment put up with. An anecdote related of the elder Mathews, when in New-York, well illustrates this phase of the national character. Walking up Broadway one day, he addressed an individual, having the appearance of a mechanic, in these terms: My good man, I want to go to Franklin Street." "Then why the devil don't you go there ?" was the uncivil reply.

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Now I have heard this story quoted as showing the rudeness of the lower orders in the United States. But it was, I have no doubt, the unlucky phrase " My good man," and the patronizing tone in which it may be inferred that such words would be uttered, that roused the gall of the individual spoken to, and provoked a discourteous retort. The inquiry differently put, would not only have elicited a civil answer from ninety-nine out of a hundred of those to whom it might have been addressed, but they would-seeing he was a foreigner-have shown a courteous readiness to afford him any information in their power; and that, too, without the slightest expectation of a fee or reward. Indeed, the offer of a gratuity under such

circumstances would be resented by the poorest American as an insult.

That the national independence of character may, occasionally, be pushed too far, and degenerate into offensive self-assertion, must, however, be admitted. Thus it is related of a stage-driver in one of the Western States that, on entering a tavern in search of a passenger, he addressed the solitary occupant of the bar-room in these terms: "Are you the man that's going by this here stage?" adding as the reason for his making the inquiry, "I'm the gentleman that drives it."

This is ridiculous enough; but such cases are, in the older settled States at least, quite exceptional; and it would be most unfair to regard the individual who figures in the above anecdote as the representative of other than a limited class in any section of the country.

So far, indeed, as my observation has extended, not only is the American of the poorer classes better mannered than the Englishman of the same grade, but so superior is he in this respect, that no comparison can fairly be instituted between them.

Any one who returns to this country after having spent some time on the Continent or in the United States, can not, in fact, but be struck by the coarseness—I might almost say the brutality-of the lower classes; at least of such of them as the eye falls upon in the public streets. In the rough practical jokes, in the "chaff,” in which they so liberally indulge amongst themselves, the desire to inflict pain or annoyance is, almost always, the basis of their wit. Treating each other with habitual rudeness, it follows that the show of courtesy they put on towards those above them is prompted simply by the desire of gain. Their civility is, in fact, little better than servility.

The American, on the other hand, however humble in position, has a keen sense of personal dignity; no taste for horseplay; and, prompt to resent an impertinence or an insult, is equally slow, unprovoked, to offer either.

The difference in morals as well as in manners between the lower classes in the two countries, is rather significantly illustrated by the fact that, during a residence of upwards of seventeen years in NewYork, the writer can not call to mind a single instance of any native American citizen

appearing at the bar of a police court on the charge of wife-beating. And as to drunkenness, more intoxicated men, and women too, may be seen in the streets of London in one day, than in those of any city of the United States in six months.

The admirable system of public schools -in which a purely gratuitous education is offered to all alike-which exists throughout the whole of the Northern and Eastern States, has done very much to elevate the moral as well as the intellectual character of the people. In New-England the percentage of crime to population is less that that of any European country, with the exception, possibly, of Holland. Even the State of New-York-the chief city of which is the common receptacle for ignorance, poverty, and crime from all parts of Europe-presents a very fair record in this respect; and, if the foreign population be eliminated from the calculation, an excellent one. Few persons, indeed, are aware how much this same foreign population contributes to the statistics of crime in America. In the State of New-York alone seventy per cent of all the offences which are brought under the cognizance of the tribunals are committed by individuals of Irish parentage, while the fair proportion of this class would be less than twenty per cent.

As an evidence of the moral development of the people which has resulted from education, may be adduced the readiness with which they are disposed to subordinate their individual preferences to what they consider to be for the good of the commonwealth; of this the "Prohibitory Liquor Law" is a conspicuous example. Whatever differences of opinion may exist in this country as to the asbtract merits of such a law, there can be, I conceive, no question but that the very fact of its existence presupposes a considerable amount of self-denial on the part of a large number of those who have been instrumental in passing it. Many thousands, in fact, in various States, voted for what is known as the "Maine" law, who had never been, nor were ever likely to be, guilty of excess themselves; but who denied themselves what they believed to be a perfectly innocent indulgence, purely for the sake of those of their fellow-citizens less able to exercise self-control.

The American is proverbially sensitive -almost morbidly so as to what is said

of his country by foreigners. Curtis, perhaps, scarcely exaggerated when he asserted that after the disaster at Bull's Run, what troubled his countrymen most, was not the reverse their arms had sustained -that they knew they should retrievebut the thought of what the Times' correspondent would say about it. But this very thin-skinnedness-though a defect in the national character, as evincing a certain lack of dignity-has yet its counterbalancing advantages. The sufferer writhes and cries out under the lash of his critics; but his punishment makes a permanent impression on him, and he sets himself seriously to work to correct the faults or follies which have been condemned or satirized.

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Many years ago, when Mrs. Trollope visited New-York, the occupants of the upper tiers of boxes of the Park Theatre were in the habit, between the acts, of resting their legs upon the balustrade in front of them, and were guilty of other breaches of etiquette. But so much did the people take to heart what the lady said of them in her book, that, for years afterwards, if any of the practices she had commented on were indulged in, a cry was raised of “ A Trollope! a Trollope!" and the offending individual was obliged to desist. At the present day the propriety, the order, the courtesy of manner to each other of an American audience, are remarkable. A play, too, is seldom or never, what is termed in theatrical parlance, damned. If a performance does not please those who witness it, they show their dissatisfaction only by silence, being apparently of Lovelace's opinion, that to "manifest dislike to a play by tumultuous disapprobation" is in bad taste. The only exceptions I can remember to this rule were when a performer was guilty of some violation of decorum, by either word or gesture; and then he has been dealt with sharply enough.

Before concluding these desultory observations upon American traits, I may observe, that any Englishman who returns home, after a residence of some years in the United States, can not but be struck by the ignorance which exists here both with regard to the institutions and character of the people of that country-an ignorance, be it said, infinitely more inexcusable than that so frequently imputed to the French in respect to us. For them, indeed, may be pleaded the excuses of difference of race and language-the latter an almost insu

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perable barrier to the thorough comprehension of the idiosyncracies of a people. But of the Americans-derived from a common stock, and speaking the same tongue as ourselves-we absolutely know less than we do of any Continental nation. Even of the geography of the United States the English people are, as a rule, curiously ignorant.

of the country from Maine to Texas; and such as, it may safely be affirmed, was never yet heard from the lips of any one human being. It is the same on the stage. In "Our American Cousin," Lord Dundreary is accepted for what it is, an exceedingly clever representation of an individual idiosyncrasy. Asa Trenchard, on the other hand, is received by the audience as a fair type not only of a class, but of a people. Yet Mr. Buckstone, excellent as he is in his own line, so far from giving a fair likeness of the Yankee, does not even present a caricature of him; that is, if caricature be understood in its proper sense, ie., the humorous or ridiculous exaggeration of features or habits peculiar to the individual or species. Asa Trenchard on the Haymarket stage is simply a vulgar cockney, with a habit of speaking through his nose; and it appears strangely inconsistent that a delicate-minded, refined woman like Mary Meredith should tolerate the addresses of such a man. When the play in question was originally produced in New-York, Jefferson, of Rip Van Winkle fame, was the Asa Trenchard, and in his hands the character became a fair, unexaggerated type of New-England-cool, clear-headed, brave, warm-hearted, but ignorant of the conventionalities of society. Here it would have been caviare to the mass of playgoers, their preconceived idea. of the character being so totally different.

One explanation of our ignorance of the social characteristics of the Americans may be found in the fact that our impressions of them are, partly, derived from the books of travelers who, in hurried journeys through the States, have simply noted such superficial traits of the people as came un der their observation in hotels, railroads, steamboats; but also, in still greater degree, I conceive, from those English works of fiction in which natives of the United States have been introduced, the individuals therein delineated being, very generally, accepted by the majority of readers as fair types of the American. In nearly every one of these works, the American figures in either an odious or a ridiculous aspect. To say nothing of those portions of "Martin Chuzzlewit," the scene of which is laid in the United States, I may mention Richard Avernal in Bulwer's "My Novel;" the Colonel in Lever's "One of Them;" Fullalove in Charles Reade's "Very Hard Cash;" the younger Fenton in Yates's" Black Sheep ;" and the American in "Mugby Junction." In every instance, whether represented as a man of good social position and presumably fair education, or not, he is made to express himself in a dialect happily combining all the peculiarities of speech of each section

In closing this paper I may add that the opinions expressed have not been lightly hazarded, but are the result of careful observation of the characteristics of the American people. W. C. M.

Macmillan's Magazine.

THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON.

BY WILLIAM BLACK, AUTHOR OF "A DAUGHTER OF HETH," ETC.

CHAPTER XIII.

SAVED!

"Unto the great Twin Brethren
We keep this solemn feast.
Swift, swift the great Twin Brethren

Came spurring from the east!" CASTOR and Pollux did us notable service that morning at Worcester. Arthur was coming round to see Bell before we started. Queen Tita was oppressed by anxious fears; and declared that now the

great crisis had come, and that the young man from Twickenham would demand some pledge from Bell as he bade her good-by. The dread of this danger drove the kindly little woman into such exaggerations of his misconduct of yesterday that I began to wonder if this Arthur were really the same lad she used to pet and think so much of when he came down to Leatherhead and dawdled with my Lady and Bell along the Surrey lanes

of an evening. What had changed him since then?

"You are pleased to be profound," says Tita, abruptly.

Well, I was only pointing out to her that one of the chief accomplishments of life is consideration for the sick; and that whereas nearly all women seem to have an inherited instinct that way, men only acquire the habit as the result of experience and reflection. Indeed, with most women, the certain passport to their interest and kindliness is to be unwell and exact a great deal of patient service from them. Now I was saying to Tita when she uttered that unnecessary rebuke-why don't women show the same consideration to those who are mentally ailing ?-to the unfortunate persons whose vexed and irritated brain renders them peevish and illtempered? Once get a patient down with fever, and all his fractious complainings are soothed, and all his querulous whims are humored. But when the same man is rendered a little insane by meeting with a disappointment-or if he is unable to stand being crossed in argument, so that the mildest statement about some such contested subject as the American War, Governor Eyre, or the Annexation of Alsace, sends a flash of flame through his head— why should not the like allowance be made for his infirmities? Why should the man who is ill-tempered because of a fever be humored, caressed, and coaxed? and the man who is ill-tempered because his reason is liable to attacks of passion, be regarded as an ill-conditioned boor, not fit for the society of well-bred ladies and gentlemen ?

"I think," says Tita, with a little warmth, "you do nothing now but try to invent excuses for Arthur. And it is not fair. I am very sorry for him if he is so vexed that he loses his temper; but that does not excuse his being absolutely rude!"

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miseration of even the most angelic of women."

I regarded that last expression as rather effective; but no. My Lady remarked that she was not accustomed to the treatment of the insane; and that another day such as that she had just passed would soon make her as ill as himself.

Our Bonny Bell did not seem so disturbed as might have been expected. When we went down to the coffee-room, we found the Lieutenant and her sitting at opposite sides of a small table, deeply engaged over a sheet of paper. On our entrance the document was hastily folded up and smuggled away.

"It is a secret," said the Lieutenant, anticipating inquiry. "You shall not know until we are away on our journey again. It is a packet to be opened in a quiet place -no houses near, no persons to listen; and then-and then

"Perhaps it will remain a secret? Bien! Life is not long enough to let one meddle with secrets; they take up so much time in explanation, and then they never contain any thing."

"But this is a very wonderful thing," said the Lieutenant," and you must hurry to get away from Worcester that you shall hear of it."

We were, however, to have another sealed packet that morning. Master Arthur, knowing full well that he would have but little chance of speaking privately with Bell, had intrusted his thoughts to a piece of paper and an envelope; and just as we were in the hurry of departure, the young man appeared. The truth was, the Lieutenant had ordered the horses to be put in some quarter of an hour before the time we had said we should start; and my Lady showed so much anxiety to set forth at once that I saw she hoped to leave before Arthur came.

The phaeton stood in the archway of the hotel, and on the stone steps were flung the rugs and books. "My dear," says Tita, rather anxiously, to Bell, " do get in! The horses seem rather fresh, and-and"Won't you wait to bid good-by to Arthur ?" says Bell.

"It is impossible to say when he will. come-he will understand—I will leave a message for him," says Queen Titania, all in a breath; and with that the Lieutenant assists Bell to get up in front.

I have the reins in my hand, awaiting orders. The last rugs are thrown up, books stowed away, every thing in readiness; Tita takes her seat behind, and the Lieutenant is on the point of getting up.

At this moment Arthur comes round the corner, is amazed for a moment to see us ready to start, and then suddenly brings out a letter.

"Bell," he says, "I-I have-there is something here I want you to see-only a moment, and you can give me an answer now-yes or no

The unfortunate young man was obviously greatly excited; his face quite pale, and his speech rapid and broken. He handed up the letter: the crisis that Tita had endeavored to avoid had come. But in this our darkest hour-as I have already hinted-Castor and Pollux came to the rescue. It was the battle of the Lake Regillus acted once again in the gateway of the Worcester Star Hotel. For Pollux, casting his head about and longing to start, managed to fix his bit on the end of the pole, and, of course, a wild scene ensued. Despite the efforts of the ostler, the horse threw himself back on his haunches; the phaeton described a curve, and was driven against the wall with a loud crash; the people about fled in every direction, and the Lieutenant jumped out and sprang to the horses' heads. Pollux was still making violent efforts to extricate himself, and Castor, having become excited, was plunging about; so that for a moment it seemed as though the vehicle would be shattered in pieces against the wall of the court. The women were quite still, except that Tita uttered a little suppressed cry as she saw the Lieutenant hanging on to the rearing horses. He stuck manfully to their heads, and, with the assistance of the ostler, at last managed to get the bit off. Then both horses sprung forward. It would have been impossible to have confined them longer in this narrow place. The Lieutenant leaped in behind; and the next moment the phaeton was out in the main street of Worcester, both horses plunging and pulling so as to turn all eyes towards us. Certainly, it was a good thing the thoroughfare was pretty clear. The great Twin Brethren, not knowing what diabolical occurrence had marked their setting out, were speeding away from the place with

might and main; and with scarcely a look at Worcester, we found ouselves out in the country again, amid quiet and wooded lanes, with all the sweet influences of a bright summer morning around us.

"I hope you are not hurt," said my Lady to the Lieutenant, who was looking about to see whether the smash had taken some of our paint off, or done other damage.

"Oh, not in the least, madame," he said, "but I find that one of my boots is cut, so that I think the shoe of the horse must have done it. And has he caught on the pole before ?"

"Only once," she says.

"Then I would have the bit made with bars across, so that it will be more difficult; for suppose this did happen in the road, and there was a ditch, and he backed you

"I suppose we should go over," remarked Queen Tita, philosophically. "But it is strange how often accidents in driving might occur, and how seldom they do occur. But we must really have the bit altered."

"Well," I say to my gentle companion, "what message did you leave with Arthur?"

"I could not leave any," said Bell; "for, of course, when the horses went back, he had to get out of their way. But he will understand that I will write to him.”

"Have you read the letter ?"
"No."

"Do, like a good girl, and have it over. That is always the best way. You must not go into this beautiful country that lies ahead with a sort of cloud over you."

So Bell took out the letter, and furtively opened it. She read it carefully over, without uttering a word; then she continued looking at it for a long time.

"I am very glad that accident occurred," she remarked in a low voice. "He said I was to answer 'yes' or 'no.' I could not do that to such a letter as this; and if I had refused, he would have been very much hurt. I will write to him from whatever place we stop at tonight."

This resolution seemed greatly to comfort her. If any explanation were needed, it was postponed until the evening; and in the meantime we had fine weather,

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