Naturalist as I am, I cannot but put the people first,--the people who have opened this part of the American continent to European civilization. What a people! But to understand them you must live among them. Our education, the principles of our society, the motives of our actions, differ so greatly from what I see here, that I should try in vain to give you an idea of this great nation, passing from childhood to maturity with the faults of spoiled children, and yet with the nobility of character and the enthusiasm of youth. Their look is wholly turned toward the future; their social life is not yet irrevocably bound to exacting antecedents, and thus nothing holds them back, unless, perhaps, a consideration for the opinion in which they may be held in Europe. This deference toward England (unhappily, to them, Europe means almost exclusively England) is a curious fact in the life of the American people. They know us but little, even after having made a tour in France, or Italy, or Germany. From England they receive their literature, and the scientific work of central Europe reaches them through English channels. . .Notwithstanding this kind of dependence upon England, in which American savans have voluntarily placed themselves, I have formed a high opinion of their acquirements, since I have learned to know them better, and I think we should render a real service to them and to science, by freeing them from this tutelage, raising them in their own eyes, and drawing them also a little more toward ourselves. Do not think that these remarks are prompted by the least antagonism toward English savans, whom no one more than myself has reason to regard with affection and esteem. But since these men are so worthy to soar on their own wings, why not help them to take flight? They need only confidence, and some special recognition from Europe would tend to give them this. . .