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RV 132 (LONDON AT LEISURE) towards the suburbs. Very salient and very characteristic figures may make a certain mark upon the mind—the German Emperor is, for some reason or another, particularly impressive to the lower order of Londoner—"Kaiser's telegrams" is an evidence of it. He will evoke some such comment as "Willie's a bit dotty", but practically never such trite general reflections as that immense power, immense isolation, or immense conspicuousness, will drive a man to eccentricities of speech and action. And indeed, anyone who made such an observation aloud, would run the risk of being silenced with: "Oh, don't talk like a book here." Or: "When we want to hear a preacher, we go to the City Temple." In a country cottage, on the other hand, the remark would be considered, accepted, and even commented on. This dislike for generalisations is as a rule set down as an English trait. An English trait it is not: but the London habit of mind it is. Probably, too, it is what has made conversation in London a lost art. It gives one something of a shock to read in Emerson: "English stories, bon-mots, and table talk are as good as the best of the French. In America we are apt scholars, but have not yet attained to the same perfection: for the range of nations from which London draws, and the steep contrasts of conditions create the picturesque in society, as a broken country makes picturesque landscape, whilst our prevailing equality makes a prairie tameness: and secondly, because dressing for dinner every day at dark has a tendency to hive and produce to advantage every- 132