companions—­one of whom was a fellow of Oxford, and the other a captain in Her Majesty’s service—­he becomes grandly Byronic, and consequently quite frantic at the idea of Mr. A. Tennyson supplanting him!  “Byron and Tennyson!—­what an unholy alliance of names!—­what sinful juxtaposition!  He who could seriously compare the insipid effusions of Mr. Tennyson with the mighty genius of Byron, might commit the sacrilege of likening the tricks of Professor Anderson to the miracles of Our Saviour.”

Having delivered himself of this pious burst, he proceeds to a castigation of the English for their observations on the nasal twang of his countrymen, and also for their criticism upon the sense in which sundry adjectives are used; and, to show the superior purity of the American language, he informs the reader that in England “the most elegant and refined talk constantly of “fried ’am” ... they seem very reluctant to hacknowledge this peculiarly hexceptionable ’abit, and hinsist that hit his confined to the low and hignorant of the country.”  He then gets indignant that we call “stone” “stun,” and measure the gravity of flesh and blood thereby.  “To unsophisticated ears, 21 stone 6 pounds sounds infinitely less than three hundred pounds, which weight is a fair average of the avoirdupois density of the Sir Tunbelly Clumsies of the middle and upper classes.”

From this elegant sentence he passes on to the evils of idleness, in treating of which he supplies The Christian Advocate with the true cause of original sin.  “Does any one imagine that the forbidden fruit would ever have been tasted if Adam had been daily occupied in tilling the earth, and Eve, like a good housewife, in darning fig-leaf aprons for herself and her husband?  Never!” The observation would lead one to imagine that the Bible was a scarce article in Kentucky.  He passes on from Adam to the banker and merchant of the present day, and informs the reader that they command a high respect in society, but it would be deemed a shocking misapplication of terms to speak of any of them as gentlemen.  After which truthful statement, he enters into a long definition of a gentleman, as though he thought his countrymen totally ignorant on that point:  he gets quite chivalrous in his description:  “He ought to touch his hat to his opponent with whom he was about to engage in mortal combat."[BM] After which remark he communicates two pieces of information—­the one as true as the other is modest:  “Politeness is deemed lessening to the position of a gentleman in England; in America it is thought his proudest boast.”  Of course he only alludes to manner; his writings prove at every page that genuine American feeling dispenses with it in language.  His politeness, I suppose, may be described in the words Junius applied to friendship:—­“The insidious smile upon the cheek should warn you of the canker in the heart.”  By way of encouraging