Snobbery . . . .  I could give Mark Twain an example of the American specimen.  It is a piquant story.  I never published it because I feared my readers might think that I was giving them a typical illustration of American character instead of a rare exception.

I was once booked by my manager to give a causerie in the drawing-room of a New York millionaire.  I accepted with reluctance.  I do not like private engagements.  At five o’clock on the day the causerie was to be given, the lady sent to my manager to say that she would expect me to arrive at nine o’clock and to speak for about an hour.  Then she wrote a postscript.  Many women are unfortunate there.  Their minds are full of after-thoughts, and the most important part of their letters is generally to be found after their signature.  This lady’s P. S. ran thus:  “I suppose he will not expect to be entertained after the lecture.”

I fairly shorted, as Mark Twain would say, and then, indulging myself in a bit of snobbishness, I was back at her as quick as a flash: 

“Dear Madam:  As a literary man of some reputation, I have many times had the pleasure of being entertained by the members of the old aristocracy of France.  I have also many times had the pleasure of being entertained by the members of the old aristocracy of England.  If it may interest you, I can even tell you that I have several times had the honor of being entertained by royalty; but my ambition has never been so wild as to expect that one day I might be entertained by the aristocracy of New York.  No, I do not expect to be entertained by you, nor do I want you to expect me to entertain you and your friends to-night, for I decline to keep the engagement.”

Now, I could fill a book on America with reminiscences of this sort, adding a few chapters on bosses and boodlers, on New York ’chronique scandaleuse’, on the tenement houses of the large cities, on the gambling-hells of Denver, and the dens of San Francisco, and what not! [But not even your nasty article on my country, Mark, will make me do it.]—­We should not think it kind.  No matter how much we might have associated with kings and nobilities, we should not think it right to crush her with it and make her ashamed of her lowlier walk in life; for we have a saying, “Who humiliates my mother includes his own.”

Do I seriously imagine you to be the author of that strange letter, M. Bourget?  Indeed I do not.  I believe it to have been surreptitiously inserted by your amanuensis when your back was turned.  I think he did it with a good motive, expecting it to add force and piquancy to your article, but it does not reflect your nature, and I know it will grieve you when you see it.  I also think he interlarded many other things which you will disapprove of when you see them.  I am certain that all the harsh names discharged at me come from him, not you.  No doubt you could have proved me entitled to them with as little trouble as it has cost him to do it, but it would have been your disposition to hunt game of a higher quality.