ver, and now I'll
be sensible. It's a fine day, Mr. Blondel."

'"Very."

'"A pleasant lane, this, to walk in, if one's company were
agreeable."

'"Does Mr. Skefton stay long?" asked Philip, abruptly.

'"No one knows,"

'"Indeed! are you so ignorant?"

'"And why does your wisdom ask that question?"'

In no society in the world can the advantage of travel be so
conspicuous as in America, in other countries a tone of
unpretending simplicity can more than compensate for the absence
of enlarged views or accurate observation; but this tone is not
to be found in America, or if it be, it is only among those who,
having looked at that insignificant portion of the world not
included in the Union, have learnt to know how much is still
unknown within the mighty part which is. For the rest, they all
declare, and do in truth believe, that they only, among the sons
of men, have wit and wisdom, and that one of their exclusive
privileges is that of speaking English _elegantly_. There are
two reasons for this latter persuasion; the one is, that the
great majority have never heard any English but their own, except
from the very lowest of the Irish; and the other, that those who
have chanced to find themselves in the society of the few
educated English who have visited America, have discovered that
there is a marked difference between their phrases and accents
and those to which they have been accustomed, whereupon they
have, of course, decided that no Englishman can speak English.

The reviews of America contain some good clear-headed articles;
but I sought in vain for the playful vivacity and the
keenly-cutting satire, whose sharp edge, however painful to the
patient, is of such high utility in lopping off the excrescences
of bad taste, and levelling to its native clay the heavy growth
of dulness. Still less could I find any trace of that graceful
familiarity of learned allusion and general knowledge which mark
the best European reviews, and which make one feel in such
perfectly good company while perusing them. But this is a tone
not to be found either in the writings or conversation of
Americans; as distant from pedantry as from ignorance, it is not
learning itself, but the effect of it; and so pervading and
subtle is its influence that it may be traced in the festive
halls and gay drawing-rooms of Europe as certainly as in the
cloistered library or student's closet; it is, perhaps, the last
finish of highly-finished