64 CONDESCENSION IN FOREIGNERS. 



lives in hotels because of their greater publicity, and is 

 never so pleased as when his domestic affairs (if he may be 

 said to have any) are paraded in the newspapers. Barnum, 

 it is well known, represents perfectly the average national 

 sentiment in this respect. However it be, we are not 

 treated like other people, or perhaps I should say like 

 people who are ever likely to be met with in society. 



Is it in the climate? Either I have a false notion of 

 European manners, or else the atmosphere affects them 

 strangely when exported hither. Perhaps they suffer from 

 the sea- voyage like some of the more delicate wines. 

 During our Civil War an English gentleman of the highest 

 description was kind enough to call upon me, mainly, as it 

 seemed, to inform me how entirely he sympathised with the 

 Confederates, and how sure he felt that we could never 

 subdue them, &quot; they were the gentlemen of the country, 

 you know.&quot; Another, the first greetings hardly over, asked 

 me how I accounted for the universal rneagreness of my 

 countrymen. To a thinner man than I, or from a stouter 

 man than he, the question might have been offensive. The 

 Marquis of Hartington* wore a secession badge at a public 

 ball in New York. In a civilised country, he might have 

 been roughly handled ; but here, where the bienseances are 

 not so well understood, of course nobody minded it. A 

 French traveller told me he had been a good deal in the 

 British colonies, and had been astonished to see how 

 soon the people became Americanised. He added, with 

 delightful bonhomie, and as if he were sure it would 

 charm me, that &quot; they even began to talk through their 

 noses, just like you ! &quot; I was naturally ravished with this 

 testimony to the assimilating power of democracy, and 

 could only reply that I hoped they would never adopt our 



* One of Mr. Lincoln s neatest strokes of humour was his treatment 

 of this gentleman when a laudable curiosity induced him to be 

 presented to the President of the Broken Bubble. Mr. Lincoln 

 persisted in calling him Mr. Partington. Surely the refinement of 

 good-breeding could go no further. Giving the young man his real 

 name (already notorious in the newspapers) would have made his visit 

 an insult. Had Henri IV. done this, it would have been famous. 



