into their own distinctive
habits at home, caused me to make a comparison between them and
ourselves, much to the disadvantage of the latter. I do not mean that
usages ought not to change, but that usages should be consistent with
themselves, and based on their general fitness and convenience for the
society for which they are intended. This is good sense, which is
commonly not only good-breeding, but high-breeding.

The Genevois are French in their language, in their literature, and
consequently in many of their notions. Still they have independence
enough to have hours, habits, and rules of intercourse that they find
suited to their own particular condition. The fashions of Paris, beyond
the point of reason, would scarcely influence them; and the answer would
probably be, were a discrepancy between the customs pointed out, "that
the usage may suit Paris, but it does not suit Geneva." How is it with,
us? Our women read in novels and magazines, that are usually written by
those who have no access to the society they write about, and which they
oftener caricature than describe, that people of quality in England go
late to parties; and they go late to parties, too, to be like English
people of quality. Let me make a short comparison, by way of
illustration. The English woman of quality, in town, rises at an hour
between nine and twelve. She is dressed by her maid, and if there are
children, they are brought to her by a child's maid: nourishing them
herself is almost out of the question. Her breakfast is eaten between
eleven and one. At three or four she may lunch. At four she drives out;
at half-past seven she dines. At ten she begins to think of the
evening's amusement, and is ready for it, whatever it may be, unless it
should happen to be the opera, or the theatre, (the latter being almost
proscribed as vulgar), when she necessarily forces herself to hours a
little earlier. She returns home, between one and four, is undressed by
her maid, and sleeps until ten or even one, according to circumstances.
These are late hours, certainly, and in some respects unwise; but they
have their peculiar advantages, and, at all events, _they are consistent
with themselves_.

In New York, the house is open for morning visits at twelve, and with a
large straggling town, bad attendance at the door, and a total want of
convenience in public vehicles, unless one travels in a stage-coach,
yclept an omnibus, it is closed at three, for dinne