Since the time when Mrs. Trollope exposed the weaker side of what she deemed the bastard civilization of America, the British public has been frequently amused by authors who have described the characteristics of the upper grades of society in that country. All these writers, including Mr. Charles Dickens and Mr. Chambers, may be said to occupy almost the same ground. Authors of distinguished character, and authors altogether undistinguished except for their social training, would alike find themselves obliged to move in select social circles. The great hive of toiling humanity, which in reality constitutes the every-day life of America, would therefore be ignored or only very partially noticed by such writers. They would find it simply impossible to speak of the working classes, and report their peculiarities from the familiar level of fellowship. Their observations, however keen, would be those of onlookers, compelled to stand aside and see the stream flow past them.

This being the case, the results of my experience as an artisan in this great world of modern civilization, with its mixed breeds of humanity, may not be unacceptable to those of my readers who have never crossed the Atlantic. I may observe, in the outset, that it is a very difficult task for a man with old-world notions and prepossessions to describe the characteristics of society in America with anything like impartiality, in consequence of the widely-diversified character and the incoherence of the materials of which it is composed.