I am not comfortable among them.  They tread on my corns and offend me.  They make my daily life unpleasant.  But I do respect them.  I acknowledge their intelligence and personal dignity.  I know that they are men and women worthy to be so called; I see that they are living as human beings in possession of reasoning faculties; and I perceive that they owe this to the progress that education has made among them.

After all, what is wanted in this world?  Is it not that men should eat and drink, and read and write, and say their prayers?  Does not that include everything, providing that they eat and drink enough, read and write without restraint, and say their prayers without hypocrisy?  When we talk of the advances of civilization, do we mean anything but this, that men who now eat and drink badly shall eat and drink well, and that those who cannot read and write now shall learn to do so—­the prayers following, as prayers will follow upon such learning?  Civilization does not consist in the eschewing of garlic or the keeping clean of a man’s finger-nails.  It may lead to such delicacies, and probably will do so.  But the man who thinks that civilization cannot exist without them imagines that the church cannot stand without the spire.  In the States of America men do eat and drink, and do read and write.

But as to saying their prayers?  That, as far as I can see, has come also, though perhaps not in a manner altogether satisfactory, or to a degree which should be held to be sufficient.  Englishmen of strong religious feeling will often be startled in America by the freedom with which religious subjects are discussed, and the ease with which the matter is treated; but he will very rarely be shocked by that utter absence of all knowledge on the subject—­that total darkness which is still so common among the lower orders in our own country.  It is not a common thing to meet an American who belongs to no denomination of Christian worship, and who cannot tell you why he belongs to that which he has chosen.

“But,” it will be said, “all the intelligence and education of this people have not saved them from falling out among themselves and their friends, and running into troubles by which they will be ruined.  Their political arrangements have been so bad that, in spite of all their reading and writing, they must go to the wall.”  I venture to express an opinion that they will by no means go to the wall, and that they will be saved from such a destiny, if in no other way, then by their education.  Of their political arrangements, as I mean before long to rush into that perilous subject, I will say nothing here.  But no political convulsions, should such arise—­no revolution in the Constitution, should such be necessary—­will have any wide effect on the social position of the people to their serious detriment.  They have the great qualities of the Anglo-Saxon race—­industry, intelligence, and self-confidence; and if these qualities will no longer suffice to keep such a people on their legs, the world must be coming to an end.