The Germans! he has been amongst them, and amongst many other nations, and confesses that his opinion of the Germans, as men, is a very low one.  Germany, it is true, has produced one very great man, the monk who fought the Pope, and nearly knocked him down; but this man his countrymen—­a telling fact—­affect to despise, and, of course, the Anglo-Germanists:  the father of Anglo-Germanism was very fond of inveighing against Luther.

The madness, or rather foolery, of the English for foreign customs, dresses, and languages, is not an affair of to-day, or yesterday—­ it is of very ancient date, and was very properly exposed nearly three centuries ago by one Andrew Borde, who under the picture of a “Naked man, with a pair of shears in one hand, and a roll of cloth in the other,” {3} inserted the following lines along with others:-

“I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here,
Musing in my mind what garment I shall weare;
For now I will weare this, and now I will weare that,
Now I will weare, I cannot tell what. 
All new fashions be pleasant to mee,
I will have them, whether I thrive or thee;
What do I care if all the world me fail? 
I will have a garment reach to my taile;
Then am I a minion, for I wear the new guise. 
The next yeare after I hope to be wise,
Not only in wearing my gorgeous array,
For I will go to learning a whole summer’s day;
I will learn Latine, Hebrew, Greek, and French,
And I will learn Dutch, sitting on my bench. 
I had no peere if to myself I were true,
Because I am not so, divers times do I rue. 
Yet I lacke nothing, I have all things at will
If I were wise and would hold myself still,
And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining,
But ever to be true to God and my king. 
But I have such matters rowling in my pate,
That I will and do—­I cannot tell what,” etc.

CHAPTER IV

On Gentility Nonsense—­Illustrations of Gentility.

What is gentility?  People in different stations in England—­ entertain different ideas of what is genteel, {4} but it must be something gorgeous, glittering, or tawdry, to be considered genteel by any of them.  The beau-ideal of the English aristocracy, of course with some exceptions, is some young fellow with an imperial title, a military personage of course, for what is military is so particularly genteel, with flaming epaulets, a cocked hat and plume, a prancing charger, and a band of fellows called generals and colonels, with flaming epaulets, cocked hats and plumes, and prancing chargers vapouring behind him.  It was but lately that the daughter of an English marquis was heard to say, that the sole remaining wish of her heart—­she had known misfortunes, and was not far from fifty—­was to be introduced to—­whom?  The Emperor of Austria!  The sole remaining wish of the heart of one who ought to have been thinking of the grave and judgment, was