My first visit to America was mainly induced by a misfortune which happened to me in the spring of 1846. The year 1845 had been one of excitement, and my hands had been very full at that time. I was to a great extent a water drinker. I had the habit of sticking to my work, various and complicated as much of it was, day by day, until that day's work was done. It often happened that I forgot to eat the modest lunch carefully put in my pocket by my wife on my leaving home, in early morning. And often and often I did not get home till nine o'clock at night, so tired that occasionally I fell asleep over my dinner; and my wife, seeing my condition of fatigue, got into the habit of carving our frugal joints, a habit which has become permanent. Thus, when I say, as a bit of pleasantry, that where the lady carves, you learn who is the master of the house, Lady Watkin will retort by mentioning this old story of past and anxious times. Well, the Trent Valley Railway, of which I was Secretary and Manager, was sold, at a large profit--I think 438,000_l._--to the London and Birmingham and Grand Junction Companies, then about to amalgamate under the name of the "London and North Western." In the spring of 1846 it became necessary to close our accounts, and balance our books, with a view to give each shareholder his share of principal and profit. It was arranged that the shareholders should call at the office in Norfolk Street, in Manchester, for their cheques on and after a day in April, 1846. Two days before this date, my Scotch book-keeper came to me to report that in balancing the books he was out the small sum of 1_s_. 10_d_. (I think it was), and he proposed to carry that to profit and loss ("Profeet and Loasse," he said). To which I, of course, replied, "My good friend, a failure to balance of even a penny may conceal errors on the two sides of the account by the hundred. Set all hands to work to call over every item." We set to work, and I was up the best part of one, and the whole of another, night. I was so anxious that I did not feel to want food; and drink I was unused to. A beefsteak and a pint of stout would have saved me from ten years, more or less, of suffering, weakness, and all kinds of misery. In the early morning of the day on which we were to begin paying off our shareholders, the books balanced. We had discovered errors, both to debit and credit, probably a hundred at least in number.