make us understand the Greek mythology,
and weaken our desire to have some glimpse of the most famous women of
history. The "best society" is that in which the virtues are most
shining, which is the most charitable, forgiving, long-suffering,
modest, and innocent. The "best society" is, by its very name, that in
which there is the least hypocrisy and insincerity of all kinds, which
recoils from, and blasts, artificiality, which is anxious to be all that
it is possible to be, and which sternly reprobates all shallow pretense,
all coxcombry and foppery, and insists upon simplicity as the
infallible characteristic of true worth. That is the "best society,"
which comprises the best men and women.

Had we recently arrived from the moon, we might, upon hearing that we
were to meet the "best society," have fancied that we were about to
enjoy an opportunity not to be overvalued. But unfortunately we were not
so freshly arrived. We had received other cards, and had perfected our
toilette many times, to meet this same society, so magnificently
described, and had found it the least "best" of all. Who compose it?
Whom shall we meet if we go to this ball? We shall meet three classes of
persons: first, those who are rich, and who have all that money can buy;
second, those who belong to what are technically called "the good old
families," because some ancestor was a man of mark in the state or
country, or was very rich, and has kept the fortune in the family; and,
thirdly, a swarm of youths who can dance dexterously, and who are
invited for that purpose. Now these are all arbitrary and factitious
distinctions upon which to found so profound a social difference as that
which exists in American, or, at least in New York, society. First, as a
general rule, the rich men of every community, who make their own money,
are not the most generally intelligent and cultivated. They have a
shrewd talent which secures a fortune, and which keeps them closely at
the work of amassing from their youngest years until they are old. They
are sturdy men, of simple tastes often. Sometimes, though rarely, very
generous, but necessarily with an altogether false and exaggerated idea
of the importance of money. They are a rather rough, unsympathetic, and,
perhaps, selfish class, who, themselves, despise purple and fine linen,
and still prefer a cot-bed and a bare room, although they may be worth
millions. But they are married to scheming, or ambitious, or
disap