I wanted to do in the time. I remember he expressed himself rather
finely about the only proper attitude for Americans visiting England
being that of magnanimity, and about the claims of kinship, only once
removed, to our forbearance and affection. He put me on my guard, so to
speak, about only one thing, and that was spelling. American spelling,
he said, had become national, and attachment to it ranked next to
patriotism. Such words as "color," "program," "center," had obsolete
English forms which I could only acquire at the sacrifice of my
independence, and the surrender of my birthright to make such
improvements upon the common language as I thought desirable. And I know
that I was at some inconvenience to mention "color," "program," and
"center," in several of my letters just to assure Mr. Page that my
orthography was not in the least likely to be undermined.

Indeed, I took his advice at every point. I hope I do not presume in
asking you to remember that I did. I know I was receptive, even to penny
buns, and sometimes simply wild with appreciation. I found it as easy as
possible to subdue the critical spirit, even in connection with things
which I should never care to approve of. I shook hands with Lord
Mafferton without the slightest personal indignation with him for being
a peer, and remember thinking that if he had been a duke I should have
had just the same charity for him. Indeed, I was sorry, and am still
sorry, that during the four months I spent in England I didn't meet a
single duke. This is less surprising than it looks, as they are known to
be very scarce, and at least a quarter of a million Americans visit
Great Britain every year; but I should like to have known one or two. As
it was, four or five knights--knights are very thick--one baronet, Lord
Mafferton, one marquis--but we had no conversation--one colonel of
militia, one Lord Mayor, and a Horse Guard, rank unknown, comprise my
acquaintance with the aristocracy. A duke or so would have completed the