gested that an English lord would impute that to his ignorance of how to manage a title. This new view of the subject seemed somewhat mortifying, seeing what he designed to exhibit was not his ignorance, but his contempt of such kickshaws.

Nevertheless, I thought I observed that the arrival of a titled man produces a degree of empressement in the fashionable worldly circles, though they strive to conceal it except, indeed, in case of such a visitor as Lord Morpeth, whose fair and dispassionate views and moral worth recommended him to a higher style of men than those of the mere circles of fashion.

It often struck me that the desire of approbation which is so strongly marked in the American character, instead of having its source in an exacting or boasting spirit, springs from two generous sentiments The first is the love of country. It is often amusing, but always agreeable, to see a man kindle in describing habits, properties, and inventions, which are endeared to him from his having a personal honour or credit in them. The country is not worth living in that is not worth loving; and the government that deadens instead of awakening the patriotic sentiment must be unhealthy. I am not sure that every American who applauds his native land will coincide with or thank me for the remark, that the second seems to have its source in respect for other countries, and especially for the parent country, Great Britain. They desire their approval.

They wish to be the model of all republics. They desire to be the finest as well as the widest country in the world, and their enjoyment of its greatness is much enhanced if you admire it with them. This sentiment could not deserve to be called generous, if they only held up their country for men to admire, and closed it against strangers. But their conduct is the very reverse of this. They welcome to its homes the refugee from every country. Their soil provides a place for ex-kings, ex-generals, expatriots. Nay, in the energy of their patriotic welcomes, they are in danger of killing with kindness. In the case of the ex-governor of Hungary, it is possible that for the first time it entered the mind of Kossuth, that there is some advantage in "streets bristling with bayonets," and ways cleared by gens d'armes, when he, weary, sea-worn, anxious, and really sick, was forced to wait two hours at the Castle Garden before room could be made for him to pass to a place of rest. The enthusiasm is generous and inspiring, and moves all ages at once to lively demonstration. It may, however, excite expectations in Hungary which America is not prepared to meet. Individuals will give liberally of their gold, their huzzas, and speeches of welcome, and feasts, and showers of nosegays. These may

seem preliminary steps towards very serious interferences with European despots, from which the nation will probably shrink back at the hour of action.

But not only do they welcome illustrious exiles. There might be some pride in sheltering themsome éclat in the eyes of the spectator-nations, in affording asylums to such as they have cast out. They receive with as free a welcome the houseless and poor-they stretch out their hands to help the landing of those who in the first instance cost them much unprofitable trouble and expense. The newcomers must be housed-nursed, if sick, at the risk of propagating pestilence-placed in positions where their qualifications can be made available, and often forwarded to such situations with trouble and expense to their employers. Yet you never hear the multitude of emigrants murmured against, though you often hear it wondered at. "Let them comelet them come," they say; "this is a great country; we have room and resources for them all. No industrious man or woman need starve in our country -let them come-let them come."

Few troops of human beings could look less inviting than those that are to be seen daily making their way to the emigration offices. But the natives look past the lean squalor of the outside to the man within, and repeat kindly, "Let them come." The wants of the country form their welcome. So many willing labourers are equivalent to so much capital.

They land without the means to purchase their first meal, but they bring a robust northern constitution. Their powers are soon found to be exactly suited to the necessity. Look on those seven hod

men on one swinging ladder, each carrying his quotum of brick or mortar. They began at morning, and now it is noon. They have not ceased to go the round, up sky high with their load, and down by another ladder after they have laid it on the scaffold. Do they come down to stand and breathe? or sit down and rest? No; they go on, up down, up down, until evening, only pausing for meals.

Americans, reared under a more enervating sun, and fed on hot cakes and loads of butter and butcher-meat, could by no means execute those rounds, they would soon give in and rest-and so of all other laborious works. Who drain the marshes, and clear the forests, and pull the snags out of the rivers? Who dig the canals, improve the harbours, and lay the roads? It is these same shivering, starving emigrants, of whom the wise in their policy and the benevolent in their pity say, "Let them come."

The God of providence, who designs to people the western world from the east, has so inclined their hearts; and one looks through the first struggle and difficulty, and in imagination sees these starving fed, and these naked clothed, and these wild little children at common school being taught. The mind finds such a picture charming, were it not for the fear that the poor people, bringing their empty cup, will find it difficult, according to our Scotch proverb, to " carry a full one with a steady hand." If to this smiling plenty they add the fear

of God, all will be well. If they are filled only with this world, they will become heady and high-minded, and in a few years will find themselves as poorly provided for the eternal shore on which they must land, as they were for the shores of the New World when they first landed upon them.

One looks with great respect on the courage of women taking up an object and pursuing it through many difficulties and intricacies, in all manner of positions, not allowing the recollection of their sex to interfere with or impede their steps. We saw one lady seated in the library of the Capitol searching records for herself, and pointing out passages to her secretary which she desired to have extracted. Another, whose name is publicly honoured, so that to mention it is not unbecoming, Miss Dix, has acted a Howard's part in searching out the cause of the neglected or ill-managed. Year after year, she has made investigations from city to city, and from state to state, and having obtained evidence of the necessities, has laid before Congress petitions for grants of land to endow and on which to build hospitals for the insane, and prisons more airy and better ordered. Her business brings her to the seat of government, as a matter of course, and she never fails to find the right man to take up her cause and plead it. Through her disinterested exertions, many sufferings have been alleviated, and many neglected ones have been made comfortable. To be thus useful members of society it is not