out to Englishmen how different is the nature of schools in London.  It must not, however, be supposed that these are charity schools.  Such is not their nature.  Let us say what we may as to the beauty of charity as a virtue, the recipient of charity in its customary sense among us is ever more or less degraded by the position.  In the States that has been fully understood, and the schools to which I allude are carefully preserved from any such taint.  Throughout the States a separate tax is levied for the maintenance of these schools, and as the taxpayer supports them, he is, of course, entitled to the advantage which they confer.  The child of the non-taxpayer is also entitled, and to him the boon, if strictly analyzed, will come in the shape of a charity.  But under the system as it is arranged, this is not analyzed.  It is understood that the school is open to all in the ward to which it belongs, and no inquiry is made whether the pupil’s parent has or has not paid anything toward the school’s support.  I found this theory carried out so far that at the deaf and dumb school, where some of the poorer children are wholly provided by the institution, care is taken to clothe them in dresses of different colors and different make, in order that nothing may attach to them which has the appearance of a badge.  Political economists will see something of evil in this.  But philanthropists will see very much that is good.

It is not without a purpose that I have given this somewhat glowing account of a girls’ school in New York so soon after my little picture of New York women, as they behave themselves in the streets and street cars.  It will, of course, be said that those women of whom I have spoken, by no means in terms of admiration, are the very girls whose education has been so excellent.  This of course is so; but I beg to remark that I have by no means said that an excellent school education will produce all female excellencies.  The fact, I take it, is this:  that seeing how high in the scale these girls have been raised, one is anxious that they should be raised higher.  One is surprised at their pert vulgarity and hideous airs, not because they are so low in our general estimation, but because they are so high.  Women of the same class in London are humble enough, and therefore rarely offend us who are squeamish.  They show by their gestures that they hardly think themselves good enough to sit by us; they apologize for their presence; they conceive it to be their duty to be lowly in their gesture.  The question is which is best, the crouching and crawling, or the impudent, unattractive self-composure.  Not, my reader, which action on her part may the better conduce to my comfort or to yours.  That is by no means the question.  Which is the better for the woman herself?  That, I take it, is the point to be decided.  That there is something better than either, we shall all agree—­but to my thinking the crouching and crawling is the lowest type of all.