How well we remember the ponderous magnates of our neighborhood in the county! The stately morning calls, the inevitable topics of local interest, the solemnity of that “quarter of an hour” which we were fain to liken to that rendered famous by an old author. Unfailing resources, O _Court Journal_! the royal visit to such and such a place, the marriage of so‐and‐so, etc., etc. Then the flower‐garden and the poultry‐yard (hereditary hobbies with English ladies), the agricultural show, the coming election. And then the formidable ordeal comes to an end, probably to the great relief of both parties. Neither of the two cared for the subjects discussed or for the interlocutor discussing them; but etiquette demanded the waste of fifteen minutes, and the laws of society are as those of the Medes and Persians. In a lower rank of life, the proprieties are perhaps still more rigidly enforced, and the only difference would be in the choice of topics. George Eliot’s inimitable gossip in _The Mill on the Floss_ describes that to a nicety, and indeed, although written in England, might do duty almost as well anywhere else. The quality of the house linen, the antiquity of the silver spoons, the solemn conclave over a new bonnet, and the delinquencies of the maid‐servant—such would be the staple. In every case you see the mask is on, it fits close, and no form of “society” is disregarded! Staying for a few days at a friend’s house is a terrible trial in polite society. You are never a moment off duty; you have to change costumes as often as an actress in a play where the “unities” are “nowhere”; and, above all, if you are a woman, you have the dismal prospect of three hours’ morning talk with a bevy of your own sex, your hands meanwhile engaged in some useless piece of fancy‐work. The topics of conversation may be guessed, their range not being very extensive; of course, somebody’s marriage or probable engagement is discussed, silks and laces are made up into imaginary toilets with surprising rapidity, the history of some refractory scholar and the details of the clothing club are next drawn upon, and it is very seldom that the talk glides into any interesting or rational channel. It really is a pity that people will persist in talking of each other and not of _things_. So much might be altered for the better in society, if conversation were not so exclusively personal. Mutual improvement is a thing altogether overlooked in the civilized world. Even men succumb to gossip; for what is the staple of club‐talk? So‐and‐so has “sold out,” and gone into a less expensive regiment; such an one seems very attentive to Miss So‐and‐so; such another was deeply offended because he was not asked to Lady So‐and‐so’s party; the shooting in Lord C——’s preserves is confoundedly bad this year; Mr. A—— thinks of contesting the next election at B——. Interminable waves of gossip flood the world from the club as from the _boudoir_, though the