! Who else like you
Could sift the seed corn from our chaff,
And make us, with the pen we knew,
Deathless at least in epitaph?"

PLUTOCRACY AND SNOBBERY IN NEW YORK,

BY EDGAR FAWCETT.

Let us imagine that a foreigner has entered a New York ball-room for
the first time, and let us make that foreigner not merely an
Englishman, but an Englishman of title. He would soon be charmed by
the women who beamed on every side of him. Their refinement of manner
would be obvious, though in some cases they might shock him by a
shrillness and nasal harshness when speaking, while in other cases
both their tone and accent might repel him through extreme affectation
of "elegance." But for the most part he would pronounce these women
bright, cultivated, and often remarkably handsome. They would not
require to be amused or even entertained after the manner of his own
countrywomen; they would appear before him amply capable of yielding
rather than exacting diversion, and often through the mediums of
nimble wit, engaging humor, or an audacity at once daring and
picturesque. But after a little more time our titled stranger would
begin to perceive that behind all this feminine sparkle and freshness,
lurked a positive transport of humility. He would discover that he had
swiftly become with these fashionable ladies an object of idolatry,
and that all the single ones were thrilled with the idea of marrying
him, while all the married ones felt pierced by the sad realization
that destiny had disqualified them for so golden a bit of luck. He
would find himself assailed by questions about his precise English
rank and standing. Had he any other title besides the one by which he
was currently known? How long ago was it since his family had been
elevated to the peerage? Did he personally know the Queen or the
Prince of Wales? Was his mother "Lady" anybody before she married his
father? Did he own several places in the country, and if so, what was
the name of each?

The men would naturally be less inquisitive; but then the men all
would have their Burke or DeBrett to consult at their clubs, and could
"look him up" there as if he had been an unfamiliar word in the
dictionary. And these male followers of fashion would, for the most
part, distress and perplex him. He would be confronted with a mournful
fact in our social life: the men who "go out" are nearly all silly
striplings who, on reaching a sensible age, discreetly re