an hour over a corduroy road, the company smoking, if not worse; to the
ample display of luxurious viands displayed upon the breakfast-table,
where, what with buffalo steaks, pumpkin pie, gin cock-tail, and other
aristocratically called temptations, he must be indeed fastidious who
cannot employ his half-hour. Pity it is, when there is so much good to
eat, that people will not partake of it like civilized beings, and with
that air of cheerful thankfulness that all other nations more or less
express when enjoying the earth's bounties. But true it is, that there
is a spirit of discontent in the Yankee, that seems to accept of benefits
with a tone of dissatisfaction, if not distrust. I once made this remark
to an excellent friend of mine now no more, who, however, would not
permit of my attributing this feature to the Americans exclusively,
adding, "Where have you more of this than in Ireland? and surely you
would not call the Irish ungrateful?" He illustrated his first remark by
the following short anecdote:--

The rector of the parish my friend lived in was a man who added to the
income he derived from his living a very handsome private fortune, which
he devoted entirely to the benefit of the poor around him. Among the
objects of his bounty one old woman--a childless widow, was remarkably
distinguished. Whether commiserating her utter helplessness or her
complete isolation, he went farther to relieve her than to many, if not
all, the other poor. She frequently was in the habit of pleading her
poverty as a reason for not appearing in church among her neighbours;
and he gladly seized an opportunity of so improving her condition, that
on this score at least no impediment existed. When all his little plans
for her comfort had been carried into execution, he took the opportunity
one day of dropping in, as if accidentally, to speak to her. By degrees
he led the subject to her changed condition in life--the alteration from
a cold, damp, smoky hovel, to a warm, clean, slated house--the cheerful