pointed women, whose life is a prolonged pageant, and they are
dragged hither and thither in it, are bled of their golden blood, and
forced into a position they do not covet and which they despise. Then
there are the inheritors of wealth. How many of them inherit the valiant
genius and hard frugality which built up their fortunes; how many
acknowledge the stern and heavy responsibility of their opportunities
how many refuse to dream their lives away in a Sybarite luxury; how many
are smitten with the lofty ambition of achieving an enduring name by
works of a permanent value; how many do not dwindle into dainty
dilettanti, and dilute their manhood with factitious sentimentality
instead of a hearty, human sympathy; how many are not satisfied with
having the fastest horses and the "crackest" carriages, and an unlimited
wardrobe, and a weak affectation and puerile imitation of foreign life?

And who are these of our secondly, these "old families?" The spirit of
our time and of our country knows no such thing, but the habitue of
"society" hears constantly of "a good family." It means simply, the
collective mass of children, grand-children, nephews, nieces, and
descendants, of some man who deserved well of his country, and whom his
country honors. But sad is the heritage of a great name! The son of
Burke will inevitably be measured by Burke. The niece of Pope must show
some superiority to other women (so to speak), or her equality is
inferiority. The feeling of men attributes some magical charm to blood,
and we look to see the daughter of Helen as fair as her mother, and the
son of Shakespeare musical as his sire. If they are not so, if they are
merely names, and common persons--if there is no Burke, nor Shakespeare,
nor Washington, nor Bacon, in their words, or actions, or lives, then we
must pity them, and pass gently on, not upbraiding them, but regretting
that it is one of the laws of greatness that it dwindles all things in
its vicinity, which would otherwise show large enough. Nay, in our
regard for the great man, we may even admit to a compassionate honor, as
pensioners upon our charity, those who bear and transmit his name. But
if these heirs should presume upon that fame, and claim any precedence
of living men and women because their dead grandfather was a hero--they
must be shown the door directly. We should dread to be born a Percy, or
a Colonna, or a Bonaparte. We should not like to be the second Duke of
Wellington