compared with one of our popular meetings during the revolution. The American speaker is violent, aggressive, not rarely abusive. But respect for freedom of speech at a meeting is so great that a speaker is hardly ever interrupted, even if he says very foolish or exasperating things. Every one feels himself personally responsible for the order of the meeting and, if necessary, every one is a representative of the police. This characteristic trait contrasts strongly with the otherwise irrepressible exuberance of the American. Every one here feels the most complete independence.
This nation has a strange indifference to life, which manifests itself in its sports, its races, its wars and also in its daily life. Men who daily win their life anew in sustained effort give it up with reckless indifference. Nevertheless, there is the same personal safety as in Paris or London. There is much less stealing, and the stories of murder usually revolve around the question of “gentleman” or no “gentleman.” An educated man lives as quietly as anywhere else, and to annoy a woman is considered a social crime. The cult of woman is almost enjoined by law; her social liberty is unlimited, she is mistress of herself. A woman can travel alone over the whole country and every gentleman must be ready to render her any service she may demand. Her privileges may sometimes be abused, but an admirable trait of the American character comes to the rescue. The abuse of the good does not prompt the American to abolish it. The abuse of liberty does not tempt him to curtail liberty. The American knows that liberty is the best means of education and that it is the highest guarantee for the Republic. We have not yet seen how a free people exercises its freedom. We have not seen in real life the practical application of the principles which we preach. Here all is spread before our gaze in a vast
