“This salad is very gritty,” said a gentleman to Douglas Jerrold at a dinner party. “Gritty,” said Jerrold, “it’s a mere gravel path with a few weeds in it.” That was very unfair on the salad. 3. Criticism should be appropriate. I mean by this something different from proportionate. Sometimes the language of criticism is not that of exaggeration, but yet it is quite as inappropriate. The critic may have taken his seat too high or too low for a proper survey, or he may, by want of education or by carelessness, use quite the wrong words to express his meaning. You will hear a man say, “I was enchanted with the Biglow Papers,” or “I was charmed with the hyenas at the Zoological Gardens.” I think one of the distinguishing characteristics of a gentleman, and what makes the society of educated gentlemen so pleasant, is that their language is appropriate without effort. “‘What a delicious shiver is creeping over those limes!’ said p. 12Lancelot, half to himself. The expression struck Argemone; it was the right one.” This is what makes some people’s conversation so interesting. It is full of appropriate language. This is perhaps even more the case with educated ladies. I think it is Macaulay who says that the ordinary letter of an English lady is the best English style to be found anywhere. p. 12 “It would be bad grammar,” said Cobbett, “to say of the House of Commons, ‘It is a sink of iniquity, and they are a set of rascally swindlers.’” Of course, the bad grammar is almost immaterial. The expression is either a gross libel or a lamentable fact. “If a man,” said Sydney Smith, “were to kill the minister and churchwardens of his parish nobody would accuse him of want of taste. The Scythians always ate their grandfathers; they behaved very respectfully to them for a long time, but as soon as their grandfathers became old and troublesome, and began to tell long stories, they immediately ate them; nothing could be more improper and even disrespectful than dining off such near and venerable relations, yet we could not with any propriety accuse them of bad taste.” This is very humorous. To say that it is improper or disrespectful is as absurd as to say that it is bad taste. It is properly described as cruel, revolting, and abominable. Not being at all a French scholar, and coming suddenly in view of Mont Blanc, I ventured to say to my guide, “C’est très joli.” “Non, Monsieur,” said he, “ce n’est pas joli, mais c’est curieux à voir.” I think we were both of us rather out of it that time.