think the age they live in is
the most enlightened: so it may be with respect to the preceding, and
indeed, so much so, that the succeeding will rather decline than improve
upon it, but it would be difficult to convince them of the fact. It is
certain, however, that scarcely a day passes but some new invention or
improvement is offered to public notice. The perusal of the newspapers
is an evidence of my assertion; and as London is the centre of
attraction, so it is the seat of knowledge, of science and information."

"I should judge, that if a person who had lived some two hundred years
ago, even in this wild place, were to rise up amongst us, his surprise
and astonishment would be strongly excited," said Bob, endeavouring to
draw forth more of his observations as they bowled along the road.

"There can be no question on that subject," said Tom, "for how would the
high ideas he entertained of the ingenuity of the age in which he had
lived, dwindle into nothing! Nay, should he appear in the country
first, what would he think of the various implements of husbandry, for
ploughing, and preparing the land; the different machines for sowing
the corn, for threshing, grinding, and dressing it; and in numerous
instances (though perhaps not quite so much now as it has been, on
account of the present agricultural distresses) he would find something
else too which he might not consider an improvement: instead of meeting
the honest homely farmer, assisting personally in the gathering in his
crops, and his daughter following the cart with a rake, he would find
the former mounted on his Prad following the hounds, and the latter at
boarding school. Instead of the farmer's son bringing home his cows of
an evening, and his sister going out to meet him at the sound of his
well known voice, with her milk-white pail, he would find the one poring
over Latin and Greek, and the other running her fingers over the chords
of a harp or piano-forte."

~71 "These," said Bob, "are refinements in manners at least."

"Then, should he take a peep at London, as we are now doing, he would be
struck dumb with admiration. But here we are on the Waterloo Road. That
building on the right is the Coburg Theatre, so named in compliment
to the Prince of Saxe Coburg, who married the unfortunate Princess
Charlotte of Wales, the much regretted daughter of our present King.
Before us is Waterloo Bridge, which leads to the Strand, and was
originally denominated th