said to me, "Do you know that three dollars you gave me were
counterfeits?" I apologised, and offered to replace them, "Oh! no,"
replied he; "it's of no consequence. I gave them in payment to my
people, who told me that they _were_ counterfeit; but they said it was
of no consequence, as they could easily pass them." In some of the
States lotteries have been abolished, in others they are still
permitted. They are upon the French principle, and are very popular.

There is one very remarkable point in the American character, which is,
that they constantly change their professions. I know not whether it
proceeds simply from their love of change, or from their embracing
professions at so early a period, that they have not discovered the line
in which from natural talents they are best calculated to succeed. I
have heard it said, that it is seldom that an American succeeds in the
profession which he had first taken up at the commencement of his
career. An American will set up as a lawyer; quit, and go to sea for a
year or two; come back, set up in another profession; get tired again,
go as clerk or steward in a steam-boat, merely because he wishes to
travel; then apply himself to something else, and begin to amass money.
It is of very little consequence what he does, the American is really a
jack of all trades, and master of any to which he feels at last inclined
to apply himself.

In Mrs Butler's clever journal there is one remark which really
surprised me. She says, "The absolute absence of imagination is of
course the absolute absence of humour. An American can no more
understand a fanciful jest than a poetical idea; and in society and
conversation the _strictest matter of fact_ prevails," etcetera.

If there was nothing but "_matter of fact_" in society and conversation
in America or elsewhere, I imagine that there would not be many words
used: but I refer to the passage, because she says that the Americans
are not imaginative; whereas, I think that there is not a more
imaginative people existing. It is true that they prefer broad humour,
and delight in the hyperbole, but this is to be expected in a young
nation; especially as their education is, generally speaking, not of a
kind to make them sensible to very refined wit, which, I acknowledge, is
thrown away upon the majority. What is termed the under current of
humour, as delicate raillery, for instance, is certainly not understood.
When they read Sam Slick