his creation of your fancy be "top-dressed"
about a foot deep with equal proportions of clay and coal-dust; then try
to realize in your mind the effect which a week's violent struggle
between Messrs. Snow and Sleet would produce, and you will thus be
enabled to enjoy some idea of the charming scene which Pittsburg
presented on the day of my visit. But if this young Birmingham has so
much in common with the elder, there is one grand feature it possesses
which the other wants. The Ohio and Monongahela rivers form the delta on
which it is built, and on the bosom of the former the fruits of its
labour are borne down to New Orleans, _via_ the Mississippi--a distance
of two thousand and twenty-five miles exactly. Coal and iron abound in
the neighbourhood; they are as handy, in reality, as the Egyptian geese
are in the legend, where they are stated to fly about ready roasted,
crying, "Come and eat me!" Perhaps, then, you will ask, why is the town
not larger, and the business not more active? The answer is simple. The
price of labour is so high, that they cannot compote with the parent
rival; and the _ad valorem_ duty on iron, though it may bring in a
revenue to the government, is no protection to the home trade. What
changes emigration from the Old World may eventually produce, time alone
can decide; but it requires no prophetic vision to foresee that the
undeveloped mineral riches of this continent must some day be worked
with telling effect upon England's trade. I must not deceive you into a
belief that the Ohio is always navigable. So far from that being the
case, I understand that, for weeks and months even, it is constantly
fordable. As late as the 23rd of November, the large passage-boats were
unable to make regular passages, owing to their so frequently getting
aground; and the consequence was, that we were doomed to prosecute our
journey to Cincinnati by railroad, to my infinite--but, as my friend
said, not inexpressible--regret.

Noon found us at the station, taking the last bite of fresh air before
we entered the travelling oven. Fortunately, the weather was rather
finer than it had been, and more windows were open. There is something
solemn and grand in traversing, with the speed of the wind, miles and
miles of the desolate forest. Sometimes you pass a whole hour without
any--the slightest--sign of animal life: not a bird, nor a beast, nor a
being. The hissing train rattles along; the trumpet-tongued whistle--or
rat