character. These are disjointed, and will escape almost any memory, if
not secured in writing. Those who do not draw should also note scenery.
A very few descriptive touches will bring back a landscape, with all its
human interest, after a lapse of years: while perhaps there is no memory
in the world which will present unaided the distinctive character of a
succession of scenes. The returned traveller is ashamed to see the
extent of his record of his personal feelings. His changes of mood, his
sufferings from heat or cold, from hunger or weariness, are the most
interesting things to him at the moment; and down they go, in the place
of things much better worth recording, and he pays the penalty in many a
blush hereafter. His best method will be to record as little as possible
about himself; and, of other things, most of what he is pretty sure to
forget, and least of what he can hardly help remembering.

Generally speaking, he will find it desirable to defer the work of
generalization till he gets home. In the earlier stages of his journey,
at least, he will restrict his pen to the record of facts and
impressions; or, if his mind should have an unconquerable theorizing
tendency, he will be so far cautious as to put down his inferences
conjecturally. It is easy to do this; and it may make an eternal
difference to the observer's love of truth, and attainment of it,
whether he preserves his philosophic thoughts in the form of dogmas or
of queries.

Though it is commonly spoken of as a settled thing that the journal
should be written at night, there are many who do not agree to this.
There are some whose memory fails when the body is tired, and who find
themselves clear-headed about many things in the morning which were but
imperfectly remembered before they had the refreshment of sleep. The
early morning is probably the best time for the greater number; but it
is a safe general rule that the journal should be written in the
interval when the task is pleasantest. Whether the regularity be
pleasant or not, (and to the most conscientious travellers it is the
most agreeable,) the entries ought to be made daily, if possible. The
loss incurred by delay is manifest to any one who has tried. The
shortest entries are always those which have been deferred. The delay of
a single day is found to reduce the matter unaccountably. In the midst
of his weariness and unwillingness to take out his pen, the traveller
may comfort himself by re