could afford the expense; or the free and enlightened who do homage in Mrs. ——­’s temple at New Orleans, though perhaps she could not afford the expense; one thing is clear—­where the money is spent, there will the masses be gathered together.  General society is, however, more sober and sociable, many families opening their houses one day in the week to all their friends.  The difference of caste is going out fast:  the Creoles found that their intermarriages were gradually introducing a race as effete as the Bourbons appear to be in France; they are now therefore very sensibly seeking alliances with the go-ahead blood of the Anglo-Saxon, which will gradually absorb them entirely, and I expect that but little Trench will be spoken in New Orleans by the year 1900.  Another advantage of the Creole element, is the taste it appears to have given for French wines.  As far as I am capable of judging, the claret, champagne, and sauterne which I tasted here were superior in quality and more generally in use than I ever found them in any other city.  The hours of dinner vary from half-past three to half-past five, and an unostentatious hospitality usually prevails.

Servants here are expensive articles.  In the hotels you find Irishmen almost exclusively, and their wages vary from 2l. 8s. to 10l. per month.  In private houses, women’s wages range from 2l. 8s. to 4l. and men’s from 6l. to 8l. the month.  The residents who find it inconvenient to go to the north during the summer, cross the lake to their country villas at Passe Christianne, a pretty enough little place, far cooler and more shady than the town, and where they get bathing, &c.  A small steamer carries you across in a few hours; but competition is much wanted, for their charges are treble those of the boats in the north, and the accommodation poor in comparison.

When crossing over in the steamer, I overheard a conversation which showed how early in life savage ideas are imbibed here.  Two lads, the eldest about fifteen, had gone over from New Orleans to shoot ducks.  They were both very gentlemanly-looking boys, and evidently attending some school.  Their conversation of course turned upon fighting—­when did schoolboys meet that it was not so?  At last, the younger lad said—­

“Well, what do you think of Mike Maloney?”, “Oh!  Mike is very good with his fists; but I can whip him right off at rough-and-tumble.”

Now, what is “rough-and-tumble?” It consists of clawing, scratching, kicking, hair-pulling, and every other atrocity, for which, I am happy to think, a boy at an English school would be well flogged by the master, and sent to Coventry by his companions.  Yet, here was as nice a looking lad as one could wish to see, evidently the son of well-to-do parents, glorying in this savage, and, as we should call it, cowardly accomplishment.  I merely mention this to show how early the mind is tutored to feelings which doubtless help to pave the way for the bowie-knife in more mature years.