they are completely lost to his sight, he finds the brilliancy which illumed imaginary prospects, gathers in greater refulgence around the well-remembered scenes he has for a time forsaken. In absence, his own country becomes doubly dear to him; and he becomes a somewhat severe critic on the strange usages by which he is soon surrounded. As the circle of his experience widens, though some of his national prejudices may be effaced, his expectations are commonly disappointed: he finds "nothing new under the sun," and feels, emphatically, that "there is no place like home."
Yet the traveller may indulge himself, especially in such a country as Mexico, with the most pleasing prospects and illusions. He will see sublimity in the wild mountain-passes, where all is vast and solemn, and nothing human or transient intervenes between himself and his Creator; where everlasting hills rear their heads against the expanse of heaven, and aged pine-trees cast their sombre shadows; where volcanic layers and fissures remind him of by-gone ages, and of nature's strong convulsions; and huge, rough-cleft rocks and sudden precipices at once assert themselves as the work of
