It often snubs, but does not altogether repulse, those gifted and
privileged outsiders who (just for the honor and glory of the thing) are
ever so ready to flatter and instruct and amuse it, and run its
errands, and fetch and carry, and tumble for its pleasure, and even to
marry such of its "ugly ducklings" (or shall we say such of its
"unprepossessing cygnets?") as cannot hope to mate with birds of their
own feather.

For it has the true English eye for physical beauty.

Indeed, it is much given to throw the handkerchief--successfully, of
course--and, most fortunately for itself, beyond the pale of its own
narrow precincts--nay, beyond the broad Atlantic, even, to the land
where beauty and dollars are to be found in such happy combination.

Nor does it disdain the comeliness of the daughters of Israel, nor their
shekels, nor their brains, nor their ancient and most valuable blood. It
knows the secret virtue of that mechanical transfusion of fluids
familiar to science under the name of "endosmoses" and "exosmoses" (I
hope I have spelled them rightly), and practises the same. Whereby it
shows itself wise in its generation, and will endure the longer, which
cannot be very long.

Peter Ibbetson (etc., etc.), for one, wishes it no manner of harm.

* * * * *

But to return. With all these temptations of travel and amusement and
society and the great world, such was our insatiable fondness for "the