would only recollect that impressions, which are thus hastily collected must of necessity share the imperfection of all things done in a hurry, they would not record these hurriedly gleaned facts with such an appearance of infallibility, or, rather, they might be induced to try a second rush across the Atlantic before attempting that first rush into print.  Let them remember that even the genius of Dickens was not proof against such error, and that a subsequent visit to the States caused no small amount of alteration in his impressions of America.  This second visit should be a rule with every man who wishes to read aright, for his own benefit, or for that of others, the great book which America holds open to the traveller.  Above all, the English traveller who enters the United States with a portfolio filled with letters of introduction will generally prove the most untrustworthy guide to those who follow him for information.  He will travel from city to city, finding everywhere lavish hospitality and boundless kindness; at every hotel he will be introduced to several of “our leading citizens;” newspapers will report his progress, general-superintendents of railroads will pester him with free passes over half the lines in the Union; and he will take his departure from New York after a dinner at Delmonico’s, the cartes of which will cost a dollar each.  The chances are extremely probable that his book will be about as fair a representation of American social and political institutions as his dinner at Delmonico’s would justly represent the ordinary cuisine throughout the Western States.

Having been feted and free-passed through the Union, he of course comes away delighted with everything.  If he is what is called a Liberal in politics, his political bias still further strengthens his favourable impressions of democracy and Delmonico; if he is a rigid Conservative, democracy loses half its terrors when it is seen across the Atlantic—­just as widow-burning or Juggernaut are institutions much better suited to Bengal than they would be to Berkshire.  Of course Canada and things Canadian are utterly beneath the notice of our traveller.  He may, however, introduce them casually with reference to Niagara, which has a Canadian shore, or Quebec, which possesses a fine view; for the rest, America, past, present, and to come, is to be studied in New York, Boston, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and half a dozen other big places, and, with Niagara, Salt Lake City and San Francisco thrown in for scenic effect, the whole thing is complete.  Salt Lake City is peculiarly valuable to the traveller, as it affords him much subject-matter for questionable writing.  It might be well to recollect, however, that there really exists no necessity for crossing the Atlantic and travelling as far west as Utah in order to compose questionable books upon unquestionable subjects; similar materials in vast quantities exist much nearer home, and Pimlico and St. John’s Wood will be found quite as prolific in “Spiritual