e in which it is to be conveyed. Hence his
recorded travels dwindle away into a mere scrap-book of classical
quotations--a transcript of immaterial Latin inscriptions, destitute
of either energy, information, or eloquence. Does he come from
Cambridge? He could solve cubic equations as well as Cardan, is a more
perfect master of logarithms than Napier, could explain the laws of
physical astronomy better than Newton, and rival La Grange in the
management of the differential calculus. But as, unluckily, the world
which he visits, and in which we live, is neither a geometric world
nor an algebraic world, a world of conic sections or fluxions; but a
world of plains and mountains, of lakes and rivers, of men and women,
flesh and blood--he finds his knowledge of little or no avail. He
takes scarce any interest in the sublunary or contemptible objects
which engross the herd of ordinary mortals, associates only with the
learned and the recluse in a few universities, and of course comes
back without having a word to utter, or a sentence to write, which can
interest the bulk of readers. Does he come from the London University,
or any of the provincial academies? He is thinking only of railroads
or mechanics, of chemistry or canals, of medicine or surgery. He could
descant without end on sulphuric acid or decrepitating salts, on
capacity for caloric or galvanic batteries, on steam-engines and
hydraulic machines, on the discoveries of Davy or the conclusions of
Berzelius, of the systems of Hutton or Werner, of Liebig or Cuvier.
But although an acquaintance with these different branches of
practical knowledge is an indispensable preliminary to a traveller in
foreign countries making himself acquainted with the improvements they
have respectively made in the useful or practical arts, they will
never qualify for the composition of a great or lasting book of
travels. They would make an admirable course of instruction for the
overseer of a manufactory, of a canal or railway company, of an
hospital or an infirmary, who was to visit foreign countries in order
to pick up the latest improvements in practical mechanics, chemistry,
or medicine; but have we really become a race of shopkeepers or
doctors, and is Science sunk to be the mere handmaid of Art?

We despair therefore, as long as the present system of education
prevails in England, (and Scotland of course follows in the wake of
its great neighbour,) of seeing any traveller arise of las