’Philip tried to laugh, but he did not succeed; he bit his lip and was silent.

’"I am under orders to entertain you, Mr. Blondel, and if my poor brain can be made to gird this fairy isle, I shall certainly be obedient.  So I begin with playing the leech.  What ails you, sir?”

’"Miss Blair!” he was going to remonstrate.

’"Miss Blair!  Now, pity.  I’m a quack! for whip me, if I know whether Miss Blair is a fever or an ague.  How did you catch it, sir?”

’"Really, Miss Blair—­”

’"Nay, I see you don’t like doctoring; I give over, 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 society.