have had no objection to become the possessor of one of these
"villa residences;" but I do not think that I should have "gone in"
for hotel life at Newport.

We hired saddle-horses, and rode out nearly the length of the
island. It was all very well, but there was little in it
remarkable either as regards cultivation or scenery. We found
nothing that it would be possible either to describe or remember.
The Americans of the United States have had time to build and
populate vast cities, but they have not yet had time to surround
themselves with pretty scenery. Outlying grand scenery is given by
nature; but the prettiness of home scenery is a work of art. It
comes from the thorough draining of land, from the planting and
subsequent thinning of trees, from the controlling of waters, and
constant use of minute patches of broken land. In another hundred
years or so, Rhode Island may be, perhaps, as pretty as the Isle of
Wight. The horses which we got were not good. They were unhandy
and badly mouthed, and that which my wife rode was altogether
ignorant of the art of walking. We hired them from an Englishman
who had established himself at New York as a riding-master for
ladies, and who had come to Newport for the season on the same
business. He complained to me with much bitterness of the saddle-
horses which came in his way--of course thinking that it was the
special business of a country to produce saddle-horses, as I think
it the special business of a country to produce pens, ink, and
paper of good quality. According to him, riding has not yet become
an American art, and hence the awkwardness of American horses.
"Lord bless you, sir! they don't give an animal a chance of a
mouth." In this he alluded only, I presume, to saddle-horses. I
know nothing of the trotting horses, but I should imagine that a