e or condition he happened to be ignorant. This
reserve is unquestionably characteristic of the nation; to what is it
owing!--modesty? Did not national and deep personal vanity appear at once
to refute the assertion, we might enter into an investigation of it. The
good opinion of himself in an Englishman is more deeply seated, though
less buoyant, than that of his neighbors; in them it is more of manner, in
us more of feeling; and the wound inflicted on the self-love of the two is
very different. The Frenchman wonders at its rudeness, but soon forgets
the charge; while an Englishmam broods over it in silence and
mortification. It is said this distinction in character is owing to the
different estimation of principles and morals in the two nations. The
solidity and purity of our ethics and religious creeds may have given a
superior tone to our moral feeling; but has that man a tenable ground to
value himself on either, whose respect to sacred things grows out of a
respect to himself: on the other hand, is not humility the very
foundation of the real Christian? For our part, we should be glad to see
this national reserve lessened, if not done entirely away; we believe it
is founded in pride and uncharitableness, and could wish to see men thrown
accidentally together on the roads of the country, mindful that they are
also travelling in company the highway of life, and that the goal of their
destination is equally attainable by all.

John Moseley was occupied with thoughts very different from those of any
of his fellow-travellers, as they proceeded rapidly on their route; and it
was only when roused from his meditations by accidentally coming in
contact with the hilt of a sword, that he looked up, and in the
glimmerings of the morning's light, recognised the person of Lord Henry
Stapleton: their eyes met, and--"My lord,"--"Mr. Moseley,"--were repeated
in mutual surprise. John was eminently a social being, and he was happy to
find recourse against his gloomy thoughts in the conversation of the
dashing young sailor. The frigate of the other had entered the bay the
night before, and he was going to town to the wedding of his sister; the
coach of his brother the marquis was to meet him about twenty miles from
town, and the ship was ordered round to Yarmouth, where he was to rejoin
her.

"But how are your lovely sisters, Moseley?" cried the young sailor in a
frank and careless manner. "I should have been half in love with one of