way of indicating satisfaction, rubs its hands. The Scotch
have a peculiarity of their own. When they quit a room, they do not shut
the door, but merely draw it gently after them, so as to leave it
unlatched. Some individuals may not be strictly attached to this
practice; but on the whole the Scotch may, for the sake of distinction,
be said to be an anti-door-shutting nation. Now, why such should be the
case, becomes an interesting philosophical problem.

Much consideration have we spent in pondering on this national oddity,
and are free to admit that the conclusions arrived at are not so
satisfactory as could be wished. Nevertheless, in default of any better
explanation of the phenomenon, what we have to say may possibly carry a
degree of weight.

The reason why the Scotch do not shut the door is, as we imagine, highly
characteristic. It is not that they are ignorant of the important fact,
that doors are made for shutting. They are fully aware that latches are
not mere ornamental attributes of doors--things stuck on not to be used.
And it cannot be imputed to them, that they leave doors open for the
sake of ventilation. In short, if strangers were to guess for a hundred
years, they would fail to hit upon the real, true, and particular reason
why the Scotch do not shut the door. One would naturally think, that as
the act of shutting the door is the prerogative of the person who quits
an apartment, it would not by so mindful a people be neglected. And
neither it is. There is no neglect in the matter. The Scotch take a
profound view of the subject. They institute a rigorous comparison
between shutting and not shutting. True, they are not taught to do so,
any more than Frenchmen are taught to make gestures. It is in them. They
are born with a natural proneness to consider, as if it were a question
of algebraic quantities, whether the satisfaction they might impart by
shutting the door would not be more than counterbalanced by the
dissatisfaction that might accrue from distinctly and unmistakably
shutting it. Still, it seems strange how any displeasure could be
incurred by the performance of what all the rest of mankind believe to
be a mark of good-breeding. Strange, indeed! But it surely will be
observed, that much depends on making a principle of a thing. And with
respect to good-breeding, what if it can be placed in a double point of
sight? It may be the etiquette in some countries to shut the door; but
that proves not