As A Chinaman Saw Us | Page 5

amusing than to hear the true Yankee countryman talk. The
Philadelphian is quite as marked in tone and enunciation. A
well-educated Philadelphian will say where is me wife for my. I have
also been asked by a Philadelphian, "Where are you going at?" It would
be impossible to mistake the intonation of a Philadelphian, even though
you met him in the wilds of Manchuria in the depths of night.
Among the most charming and delightfully cultured people I met in
America were Philadelphians of old families. The New Yorker is more
cosmopolitan, while the Southern men, to a certain extent, have caught
the inflection of the negro, who is the nurse in the South for all white
children. The Americans are taught that the principal and chief end of
man is to make a fortune and get married; but to accomplish this it is
necessary first to "sow wild oats," become familiar with the vices of
drink, smoking, and other forms of dissipation, a sort of test of
endurance possibly, such as is found among many native races; yet one
scarcely expects to find it among the latest and highest exponents of
perfection in the human race.
The American pretends to be democratic; scoffs at England and other
European lands, but at heart he is an aristocrat. His tastes are only
limited by his means, and not always then. Any American, especially a
politician, will tell you that there is but one class--the people, and that
all are born equal. In point of fact, there are as many classes as there are

grades of pronounced individuality, and all are very unequal, as every
one knows. They are included in a general way in three classes: the
upper class (the refined and cultivated); the middle class (represented
by the retail shop-keepers); and last, the rest. The cream of society will
be found in all the cities to be among the professional men, clergymen,
presidents of colleges, long-rich wholesale merchants, judges, authors,
etc.
The distinctions in society are so singular that it is almost impossible
for a foreigner to understand them. There are persons who make it a life
study to prepare books and papers on the subject, and whose opinions
are readily accepted; yet such a person might not be accepted in the
best society. What constitutes American society and its divisions is a
mystery. In a general sense a retail merchant, a man who sold shoes or
clothes, a tailor, would under no circumstances find a place in the first
social circles; yet if these same tradesmen should change to wholesalers
and give up selling one article at a time, they would become eligible to
the best society. They do not always get in, however. At a dinner my
neighbor, an attractive matron, was much dismayed by my asking if she
knew a certain Mr. ----, a well-known grocer. "I believe our supplies
(groceries) come from him," was her chilly reply. "But," I ventured, "he
is now a wholesaler." "Indeed!" said madam; "I had not heard of it."
The point, very inconceivable to you, perhaps, was that the grocer,
whether wholesale or retail, was not readily accepted; yet the man in
the wholesale business in drugs, books, wine, stores, fruit, or almost
anything else, had the entrée, if he was a gentleman. The druggist, the
hardware man, the furniture dealer, the grocer, the retailer would
constitute a class by themselves, though of course there are other subtle
divisions completely beyond my comprehension.
At some of the homes of the first people I would meet a president of a
university, an author of note, an Episcopal bishop, a general of the
regular army (preferably a graduate of the West Point Academy),
several retired merchants of the highest standing, bankers, lawyers, a
judge or two of the Supreme Bench, an admiral of good family and
connections. I have good reason to think that a Methodist bishop would
not be present at such a meeting unless he was a remarkable man.

There were always a dozen men of well-known lineage; men who knew
their family history as far back as their great-grandparents, and whose
ancestors were associated with the history of the country and its
development. The men were all in business or the professions. They
went to their offices at nine or ten o'clock and remained until twelve;
lunched at their clubs or at a restaurant, returned at one, and many
remained until six before going to their homes. The work is intense. A
dominating factor or characteristic in the American man is his pursuit
of the dollar. That he secures it is manifest from the miles of beautiful
residences, the show of costly equipages and plate, the unlimited range
of "stores" or shops one sees in large cities. The millionaire is a very