Mr. Robinson says: "O Americans! never blame the climate, for it is an admirable one. The succulent vegetables of the old country grow here, with very few exceptions, and by their sides you gather the ears of the stately and graceful maize - most useful of its wonderfully useful family. Muskmelons better than those which cost an English country gentleman six dollars each to produce on hot-beds and in glass houses, grow side by side with your delicious sweet potato, which I used to grow as a curiosity in a hot-house. Our old and popular Williams pear (you call it the Bartlett), larger, sweeter and more golden than with us, falls by the side of egg-plants, with fruit so large as to be a constant source of surprise to me, who had often grown the fruit to the size of a turkey egg in hot-houses in England. Rosy-cheeked English apples are seen above the quaint, large-flowered of the okra, which to us is an impossible exotic. Blessed by every variety of climate, and with its peoples not hedged out from each others' improvements by strange tongues, I look forward to the time when this vast country shall be more famous for rural beauty than for the wealth of her many cities".