We can't say what it is, any more than we can define wit, or humour, or humbug; but we KNOW what it is.

Some weeks since, happening to have the felicity to sit next to a young lady at a hospitable table, where poor old Jawkins was holding forth in a very absurd pompous manner, I wrote upon the spotless damask 'S--B,' and called my neighbour's attention to the little remark.
That young lady smiled.

She knew it at once.

Her mind straightway filled up the two letters concealed by apostrophic reserve, and I read in her assenting eyes that she knew Jawkins was a Snob.

You seldom get them to make use of the word as yet, it is true; but it is inconceivable how pretty an expression their little smiling mouths assume when they speak it out.