mean, I'm sure, that I would not come to see you, but you know
you are not lords, and therefore I know very well how you are
treated in your own country."

I very rarely contradicted statements of this kind, as I found
it less trouble, and infinitely more amusing, to let them pass;
indeed, had I done otherwise, it would have been of little avail,
as among the many conversations I held in America respecting my
own country, I do not recollect a single instance in which it
was not clear that I knew much less about it than those I
conversed with.

On the subject of national glory, I presume I got more than my
share of buffeting; for being a woman, there was no objection to
their speaking out. One lady, indeed, who was a great patriot,
evinced much delicacy towards me, for upon some one speaking of
New Orleans, she interrupted them, saying, "I wish you would not
talk of New Orleans;" and, turning to me, added with great
gentleness, "It must be so painful to your feelings to hear that
place mentioned!"

The immense superiority of the American to the British navy was
a constant theme, and to this I always listened, as nearly as
possible, in silence. I repeatedly heard it stated, (so often,
indeed, and from such various quarters, that I think there must
be some truth in it), that the American sailors fire with a
certainty of slaughter, whereas our shots are sent very nearly at
random. "This, " said a naval officer of high reputation, "is
the blessed effect of your game laws; your sailors never fire at
a mark; whilst our free tars, from their practice in pursuit of
game, can any of them split a hair." But the favourite, the
constant, the universal sneer that met me every where, was on our
old-fashioned attachments to things obsolete. Had they a little
wit among them, I am certain they would have given us the
cognomen of "My Grandmother, the British," for that is the tone
they take, and it is thus they reconcile themselves to the crude
newness of every thing around them.

"I wonder you are not sick of kings, chancellors, and
archbishops, and all your fustian of wigs and gowns," said a
very clever gentleman to me once, with an affected yawn,
"I protest the very sound almost sets me to sleep."

It is amusing to observe how soothing the idea seems, that they
are more modern, more advanced than England. Our classic
literature, our princely dignities, our noble institutions, are
all gone-by relics of the dark ages.