ench paper
an eloquent appeal from a general to his soldiers, which concluded by
his telling them, to remember, that they were "Mexicans." I devoutly
trust that they understood the meaning of his phrase, and were able,
without difficulty, to call to mind the bright prerogative alluded to;
for upon my conscience, as an honest man, it would puzzle me sorely to
say what constitutes a Mexican.

But the absurdity goes further still: for, not satisfied with the
bounties of Providence in making us what we are, we must indulge a
rancorous disposition towards our neighbours for their less-favoured
destiny. "He behaved like a Turk," is an every-day phrase to indicate
a full measure of moral baseness and turpidity. A Frenchman's abuse
can go no further than calling a man a Chinese, and when he says, "_tu
es un Pekin_," a duel is generally the consequence. I doubt not that
the Turks and the Chinese make use of retributive justice, and treat
us no better than we behave to them.

Civilisation would seem rather to have fostered than opposed this
prejudice. In the feudal ages, the strength of a brawny right arm, the
strong hand that could wield a mace, the firm seat in a saddle, were
the qualities most in request; and were physical strength more
estimated than the gifts of a higher order, the fine distinctions of
national character either did not exist, or were not attended to. Now,
however, the tournament is not held on a cloth of gold, but on a broad
sheet of paper; the arms are not the lance and the dagger, but the
printing-press. No longer a herald in all the splendour of his tabard
proclaims the lists, but a fashionable publisher, through the medium
of the morning papers, whose cry for largess is to the full as loud.
The result is, nations are better known to each other, and, by the
unhappy law of humanity, are consequently less esteemed. What
signifies the dislike our ancestors bore the French at Cressy or
Agincourt compared to the feeling we entertain for them after nigh
thirty years of peace? Then, indeed, it was the strong rivalry between
two manly natures: now, the accumulated hate of ages is sharpened and
embittered by a thousand petty jealousies that have their origin in
politics, military glory, society, or literature; and we detest each
other like quarterly reviewers. The Frenchman visits England as a Whig
commissioner would a Tory institution--only anxious to discover abuses
and defects--with an obliquity of vision tha