than I am ready to follow him; yet not when he says: "As the
plant is made for the animal, as the vegetable world is made for
the animal world, America is made for the man of the Old
World.... The man of the Old World sets out upon his way. Leaving
the highlands of Asia, he descends from station to station
towards Europe. Each of his steps is marked by a new civilization
superior to the preceding, by a greater power of development.
Arrived at the Atlantic, he pauses on the shore of this unknown
ocean, the bounds of which he knows not, and turns upon his
footprints for an instant." When he has exhausted the rich soil
of Europe, and reinvigorated himself, "then recommences his
adventurous career westward as in the earliest ages." So far
Guyot.

From this western impulse coming in contact with the barrier of
the Atlantic sprang the commerce and enterprise of modern times.
The younger Michaux, in his Travels West of the Alleghanies in
1802, says that the common inquiry in the newly settled West was,
"'From what part of the world have you come?' As if these vast
and fertile regions would naturally be the place of meeting and
common country of all the inhabitants of the globe."

To use an obsolete Latin word, I might say, Ex Oriente lux; ex
Occidente FRUX. From the East light; from the West fruit.

Sir Francis Head, an English traveler and a Governor-General of
Canada, tells us that "in both the northern and southern
hemispheres of the New World, Nature has not only outlined her
works on a larger scale, but has painted the whole picture with
brighter and more costly colors than she used in delineating and