critics of the English press have unanimously awarded to it.

"We may remark that a Persian of Montesquieu, a Huron of Voltaire,
even a simple Peruvian woman of Madame de Graffigny, reasons much
more wisely about European civilization than an American of San
Francisco. The fact is, that it is not sufficient to have wit, or
even natural taste, in order to appreciate works of art.

"It is the right of humorists to be extravagant; but still common
sense, although carefully hidden, ought sometimes to make itself
apparent. . . . In Mark Twain the Protestant is enraged against
the pagan worship of broken marble statues--the democrat denies
that there was any poetic feeling in the middle ages. The sublime
ruins of the Coliseum only impressed him with the superiority of
America, which punishes its criminals by forcing them to work for
the benefit of the State, over ancient Rome, which could only draw
from the punishments which it inflicted the passing pleasure of a
spectacle.

"In the course of this voyage in company with Mark Twain, we at
length discover, under his good-fellowship and apparent
ingenuousness, faults which we should never have expected. He has
in the highest degree that fault of appearing astonished at
nothing--common, we may say, to all savages. He confesses himself
that one of his great pleasures is to horrify the guides by his
indifference and stupidity. He is, too, decidedly envious. . . .
We could willingly pardon him his patriotic self-love, often
wounded by the ignorance of Europeans, above all in what concerns
the New World, if only that national pride were without mixture of
personal vanity; but how comes it that Mark Twain, so severe upon