would be exaggerated and even false in himself. A man often has to
wait for his own death to find out what his English friend thinks of
him; and

"Wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us,"

we might often be surprised to discover what a wealth of real
affection and esteem lies hid under the glacier of Anglican
indifference. The American poet who found his song in the heart of a
friend could have done so, were the friend English, only by the aid of
a post-mortem examination. The American, on the other hand, has the
most open and genial way of expressing his interest in you; and when
you have readjusted the scale of the moral thermometer so as to allow
for the change of temperament, you will find this frankness most
delightfully stimulating. It requires, however, an intimate knowledge
of both countries to understand that when an Englishman congratulates
you on a success by exclaiming, "Hallo, old chap, I didn't know you
had it in you," he means just as much as your American friend, whose
phrase is: "Bravo, Billy, I always _knew_ you could do something
fine."

That the superior powers of articulation possessed by the American
sometimes takes the form of profuse and even extreme volubility will
hardly be denied by those conversant with the facts. The American may
not be more profound than his English cousin or even more fertile in
ideas, but as a rule he is much more ready and easy in the discussion
of the moment; whatever the state of his "gold reserve" may be, he has
no lack of the small counters of conversation. In its proper place
this faculty is undoubtedly most agreeable; in the fleeting interviews