er to native feeling.

If any country in the whole civilized world exhibits the inequality of
classes more forcibly than another, it is the country which has lately
annexed Texas, and which aims at annexing all the New World.

There is a more marked line drawn between wealth and pretension on the
one hand, poverty and impertinent assumption on the other, than in the
dominions of the Czar. Birth, place, power, are all duly honoured, and
that sometimes to a degree which would astonish a British nobleman,
accustomed all his life to high society. I remember once travelling in a
canal boat, the most abominable of all conveyances, resembling Noah's
ark in more particulars than its shape, that I was accosted, in the
Northern States too, and near the borders, where equality and liberty
reign paramount, by a long slab-sided fellow-passenger, who, I thought,
was going to ask me to pay his passage, his appearance was so shabby,
with the following questions:

"Where are you from? are you a Livingstone?" I told him, for I like to
converse with characters, that I was from Canada. "What's your name?" he
asked. I satisfied him. He examined me from head to foot with attention,
and, as he was an elderly man, I stood the gaze most valiantly. "Well,"
he said, "I thought you were a Livingstone; you have got small ears, and
small feet and hands, and that, all the world over, is the sign of
gentle blood."

He was afterwards very civil; and, upon inquiring of the skipper of the
boat who he was, I found that my friend was a man of large fortune, who
lived somewhere near Utica, on an estate of his own.

This was before the sympathy troubles, and I can back it with another
story or two to amuse the reader.

Some years ago, when it was the fashion in Canada for British officers
always to travel in uniform, I went to Buffalo, the great city of
Buffalo on lake Erie, in the Thames steamer, commanded by my good
friend, Captain Van Allen, and the first British Canadian steamboat
that ever entered that harbour. We went in gallantly, with the flag
flying that "has braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze." I
think the majority of the population must have lined the wharfs to see
us come in. They rent the welkin with welcomes, and, among other
demonstrations, cast up their caps, and cried with might and main--"Long
live George the Third!"--Our gracious monarch had for years before bid
this world good night, but that was nothing; the good fol