But the language is not more marked by its peculiarities than the manners. There are all sorts of people in every land. Some of each variety go abroad, so that we must expect to meet them, and it is very absurd to judge of a country by the few specimens you meet on the road. But while I am heartily ashamed of some of my own countrymen who are abroad, and make themselves ridiculous by an extravagance of _independence_ that amounts to a contempt of every thing and everybody except themselves and their country, still I think that, as a whole, they are the best behaved people abroad. At the Baur du Lac Hotel, Zurich, day before yesterday, at breakfast, a German lady took her seat at the head of a long table, rested both elbows upon it, and taking a roll of bread eight inches long, held it in both hands, and without taking it from her lips, or taking her elbows down, she ate the whole of it from end to end. I sat next to her, on the corner, and saw it done. She then took another roll, a round one, and devoured that: all this while waiting for her coffee. What more she ate, or how, I did not see, having turned away in disgust. It is not probable that any woman from America would go through such an exercise at home or abroad. Yesterday, in the rail-car in which I was riding, an English gentleman and family entered the compartment in which I was seated, the only passenger. There were four seats, two on each side of a little table, on which we could lay books or papers. Overhead were racks and pegs for bags and bundles. He piled his, and his wife’s, and his wife’s sister’s, on the top of the table, usurping the whole of it, and utterly ignoring the right of anybody else to any of it. Jonathan would put a thing in its place, and be ashamed to interfere with the convenience of his neighbor. John Bull looks out for number one. This selfishness extends to neglecting those little attentions to women, on which an American prides himself, and which makes it so easy for women in America to travel alone.