, seems
to have become a form in England. In America, when a new acquaintance
says, 'Come and see me,' he means it. When he says it here, in nine
cases out of ten he looks unaffectedly astonished if you are fool enough
to take him at his word. I hate insincerity, Miss Regina--and now I have
returned to my own country, I find insincerity one of the established
institutions of English Society. 'Can we do anything for you?' Ask them
to do something for you--and you will see what it means. 'Thank you for
such a pleasant evening!' Get into the carriage with them when they
go home--and you will find that it means, 'What a bore!' 'Ah, Mr.
So-and-so, allow me to congratulate you on your new appointment.'
Mr. So-and-so passes out of hearing--and you discover what the
congratulations mean. 'Corrupt old brute! he has got the price of his
vote at the last division.' 'Oh, Mr. Blank, what a charming book you
have written!' Mr. Blank passes out of hearing--and you ask what his
book is about. 'To tell you the truth, I haven't read it. Hush! he's
received at Court; one must say these things.' The other day a friend
took me to a grand dinner at the Lord Mayor's. I accompanied him first
to his club; many distinguished guests met there before going to the
dinner. Heavens, how they spoke of the Lord Mayor! One of them didn't
know his name, and didn't want to know it; another wasn't certain
whether he was a tallow-chandler or a button-maker; a third, who had met
with him somewhere, described him as a damned ass; a fourth said, 'Oh,
don't be hard on him; he's only a vulgar old Cockney, without an _h_ in
his whole composition.' A chorus of general agreement followed, as the
dinner-hour approached: 'What a bore!' I whispered to my friend, 'Why
do they go?' He answered, 'You see, one must do this sort of thing.'
And when we got to the Mansion House, they did that sort of thing with
a vengeance! When the speech-making set in, these very men who had been
all expressing their profound contempt for the Lord Mayor behind his
back, now flattered him to his face in such a shamelessly servile way,
with such a meanly complete insensibility to their own baseness, that
I did really and literally turn sick. I slipped out into the fresh air,
and fumigated myself, after the company I had kept, with a cigar. No,
no! it's useless to excuse these things (I could quote dozens of other
instances that have come under my own observation) by saying that they
are trifl