Taking at random one of the multitude of illustrations crowding upon
my mind, let me sketch a vexatious incident of personal history. Some
years ago--no matter how many, nor how long was my sojourn in the town
which was the scene of the story--I accepted the invitation of an
acquaintance to take a seat in her carriage while on my way to call
upon a woman well known to us both. The owner of the equipage, Mrs.
D----, overtook me while I was trudging up the long street leading to
the suburb in which our common acquaintance lived. The day was bleak
and windy, and I was glad to be spared the walk. Mrs. C----, to whom
the visit was paid, came down to receive us with her hat and cloak on.
She was going down town presently, she said, and would not keep us
waiting while she laid aside her wraps. No! she would not have us
shorten our call on her account; she could go half an hour later as
well as now. A good deal was said of the disagreeable weather, and the
bad sidewalks in that new section of the city--as I recollected
afterward. At the time, I was more interested in her mention that her
favorite brother, an editor of note from another town and State, was
visiting her. She asked permission to bring him to call, and I
consented with alacrity, thinking, as I spoke, that I would, after
meeting him, arrange a little dinner-party of choice spirits in his
honor.

When we were ready to go, Mrs. D----, to my surprise and
embarrassment, did not propose that our hostess should drive down-town
with us, although we were going directly back, and a cold "Scotch
mist" was beginning to fall. To this day, I do not know to what to
attribute what I then felt--what I still consider--was gross
incivility. The most charitable supposition is that it never occurred
to her that it would be neighborly and humane to offer a luxurious
seat in her swiftly rolling chariot to the woman who must otherwise