by the world. _Here_ a
person's rank is ascertained, and his society settled, at his immediate
entrance into life; a gentleman and lady will always be regarded as
such, let what will be their behaviour.--It is therefore highly
commendable when they seek to adorn their minds by culture, or pluck out
those weeds, which in hot countries will spring up among the riches of
the harvest, and afford a sure, but no immediately pleasing proof of the
soil's natural fertility. But my country-women would rather hear a
little of our _interieur_, or, as we call it, family management; which
appears arranged in a manner totally new to me; who find the lady of
every house as unacquainted with her own, and her husband's affairs, as
I who apply to her for information.--No house account, no weekly bills
perplex _her_ peace; if eight servants are kept, we will say, six of
these are men, and two of those men out of livery. The pay of these
principal figures in the family, when at the highest rate, is fifteen
pence English a day, out of which they find clothes and eating--for
fifteen pence includes board-wages; and most of these fellows are
married too, and have four or five children each. The dinners drest at
home are, for this reason, more exactly contrived than in England to
suit the number of guests, and there are always half a dozen; for dining
_alone_ or the master and mistress _tete-a-tete_ as _we_ do, is unknown
to them, who make society very easy, and resolve to live much together.
No odd sensation then, something like shame, such as _we_ feel when too
many dishes are taken empty from table, touches them at all; the common
courses are eleven, and eleven small plates, and it is their sport and
pleasure, if possible, to clear all away. A footman's wages is a
shilling a day, like our common labourers, and paid him, as they are
paid, every Saturday night. His livery, mean time, changed at least
_twice a year_, makes him as rich a man as the butler and valet--but
when evening comes, it is the comicallest sight in the world to see them
all go gravely home, and you may die in the night for want of help,
though surrounded by showy attendants all day. Till the hour of
departure, however, it is expected that two or three of them at least
sit in the antichamber, as it is called, to answer the bell, which, if
we confess the truth, is no light service or hardship; for the stairs,
high and wide as those of Windsor palace, all stone too, run up from t