n, and very curious and interesting,
that this young woman, with her antecedents so distinctly set before us,
should be represented as a lady, not at all out of place among her
cultivated companions, and 'ready to become an ornament of society the
moment she lands in Venice."

Reams of writing could not more clearly explain what is meant by
"inability to understand" American conditions and to judge fairly the
literature growing out of them; and reams of writing would be wasted in
the attempt to make our curious critic comprehend the situation. There is
nothing in his experience of "farmers' daughters" to give him the key to
it. We might tell him that his notion of a farmer's daughters in England
does not apply to New England. We might tell him of a sort of society of
which he has no conception and can have none, of farmers' daughters and
farmers' wives in New England--more numerous, let us confess, thirty or
forty years ago than now--who lived in homely conditions, dressed with
plainness, and followed the fashions afar off; did their own household
work, even the menial parts of it; cooked the meals for the "men folks"
and the "hired help," made the butter and cheese, and performed their
half of the labor that wrung an honest but not luxurious living from the
reluctant soil. And yet those women--the sweet and gracious ornaments of
a self-respecting society--were full of spirit, of modest pride in their
position, were familiar with much good literature, could converse with
piquancy and understanding on subjects of general interest, were trained
in the subtleties of a solid theology, and bore themselves in any company
with that traditional breeding which we associate with the name of lady.
Such strong native sense had they, such innate refinement and courtesythe
product, it used to be said, of plain living and high thinking--that,
ignorant as they might be of civic ways, they would, upon being
introduced to them, need only a brief space of time to "orient"
themselves to the new circumstances. Much more of this sort might be said
without exaggeration. To us there is nothing incongruous in the
supposition that Lydia Blood was "ready to become an ornament to society
the moment she lands in Venice."

But we lack the missionary spirit necessary to the exertion to make our
interested critic comprehend such a social condition, and we prefer to
leave ourselves to his charity, in the hope of the continuance of which
we rest in ser