the more favourable, I shall first name Vanity as a great national
feature. The fulsome adulation with which the Press bespatters its
readers, throughout the length and breadth of the Union, wherever any
comparisons are drawn with other nations, is so great that the masses
have become perfectly deluded; and being so far removed from the nations
of the Old World, and knowing, consequently, nothing of them except
through the columns of a vanity-feeding Press, they receive the most
exaggerated statements as though they were Gospel truths--little aware
how supremely ridiculous the vaunting which they read with delight makes
them appear in the eyes of other people.

I insert the following extract from the Press, as one instance among
many of the vain and ridiculous style of some of their editorial
leaders. It is taken from the _New York Herald_--one of the most
widely-circulated papers in the Union, but one which, I am bound in
justice to say, is held in contempt[CK] by the more intelligent portion
of the community. Speaking of Mrs. B. Stowe's reception in England, he
says:--"She proves herself quite an American in her intercourse with the
English aristocracy. Her self-possession, ease, and independence of
manner were quite undisturbed in the presence of the proud duchesses
and fraughty dames of the titled English nobility. They expected
timidity and fear, and reverence for their titles, in an untitled
person, and they found themselves disappointed. Mrs. Stowe felt herself
their equal in social life, and acted among them as she felt. This,
above all other things, has caused a great astonishment in the higher
circles in favour of American women, for in fact it is a quality
peculiarly distinguishing an American woman, that she can be and is a
duchess among duchesses."

Even in the simple article of diplomatic dress we see the same feature
peeping out. Vanity may be discovered as readily in singularity, however
simple, as in the naked savage who struts about as proud as a peacock,
with no covering but a gold-laced cocked hat on his head and a
brass-mounted sword at his side. When civilized society agrees upon some
distinctive uniform for diplomatic service, who can fail to observe the
lurking vanity that dictated the abolition of it by the Republic?--not
to mention the absurdity of wearing a sword in plain clothes. The only
parallel it has among bipeds, that I know of, is a master-at-arms on
board a ship, with a cane by his s