r. _Sending_ a card
would be little short of social treason. We are too country-bred for
such an impertinence. After dinner, there is an interval of three hours,
when tea is served, and the mistress of the house is at a loss for
employment until ten, when she goes into the world, in order to visit at
the hour she has heard, or read, that fashion prescribes such visits
ought to be made, in other countries, England in particular. Here she
remains until one or two, returns home, undresses herself, passes a
sleepless morning, perhaps, on account of a cross child, and rises at
seven to make her husband's coffee at eight!

There is no exaggeration in this, for such is the dependence and
imitation of a country that has not sufficient tone to think and act for
itself, in still graver matters, that the case might even be made
stronger, with great truth.--The men are no wiser. When _invited_, they
dine at six; and at home, as a rule, they dine between three and four. A
man who is much in society, dines out at least half his time, and
consequently he is eating one day at four and the next at six, all
winter!

The object of this digression is to tell you that, so far as my
observation goes, we are the only people who do not think and act for
ourselves, in these matters. French millinery may pass current
throughout Christendom, for mere modes of dress are habits scarce worth
resisting; but in Germany, Belgium, Italy, Switzerland, or wherever we
have resided, I have uniformly found that, in all essentials, the
people have hours and usages of their own, founded on their own
governing peculiarities of condition. In America, there is a constant
struggle between the force of things and imitation, and the former often
proving the strongest, it frequently renders the latter lame, and, of
course, ungraceful. In consequence of this fact, social intercourse with
us is attended with greater personal sacrifices, and returns less
satisfaction, than in most other countries. There are other causes,
beyond a doubt, to assist in producing such a result; more especially in
a town like New York, that doubles its population in less than twenty
years; but the want of independence, and the weakness of not adapting
our usages to our peculiar condition, ought to be ranked among the
first. In some cases, necessity compels us to be Americans, but whenever
there is a tolerable chance, we endeavour to become "second chop
English."

In a fit of gallantry, I