The last word reminds me that I must say a word or two here, about the English railways. In point of speed I think their reputation out-runs the fact. I did not find their average, (with the exception of the road between Liverpool and London,) much above that of our best northern and eastern roads. They make; for instance, hardly 20 miles an hour with the ordinary trains, and about 36 miles an hour with the express trains. But the perfect order and system with which they are managed; the obliging civility of ail persons in the employment of the companies to travellers, and the quietness with which the business of the road is carried on, strikes an American very strongly. For example, suppose you are on a railroad at home. You are about to approach a small town, where you may leave and take up, , twenty passengers. As soon as the town is in sight, the engine or its whistle begins to scream out - the bell rings - the steam whiz- zes - and the train stops. Out hurry the way passengers, in rush the new comers.

Again the bell rings, the steam whizzes, and with a noise something between a screech and a yell, but more infernal than either - a noise that deafens the old ladies, delights the boys, and frightens all the horses, off rushes the train - whizzing and yelling over a mile or two more of country, before it takes breath for the like process at the next station.

In an English railway you seldom hear the scream of the steam whistle at all. It is not considered part of the business of the engineer to disturb the peace of the whole neighborhood, and inform them that he and the train are coming. The guard at the station notices the train when it first comes in sight. He immediately rings a hand-bell, just loud enough to warn the passengers in the station, to get ready. The train arrives - no yelling, screaming - or whizzing - possibly a gentle letting off of the steam - quite a necessary thing - not at all for effect. The passengers get out, and others get in, and are all carefully seated by the aforesaid guard or guards. When this is all done, the guard of the station gives a tinkle or two with his hand-bell again, to signify to the conductor that all is ready, and off the train darts, as quietly as if it knew screaming to be a thing not tolerated in good society. But the difference is national after all. John Bull says in his railroads, as in everything else, "steady - all right." Brother Jonathan, "clear the the coast - go ahead!" Still, as our most philosophical writer has said, it is only boys and savages who scream - men learn to control themselves - we hope to see the time when our people shall find out the advantages of possessing power without making a noise about it.

If we may take a lesson from the English in the management of rail-ways, they might learn vastly more from us in the accommodation of passengers. What are called "first-class carriages" on the English rails, are thoroughly comfortable, in the English sense of the word. They have seats for six- - each double-cushioned, padded, and set off from the rest, like the easy chair of an alderman, in which you can entrench yourself and imagine that the world was made for you alone. But only a small part of the travel in England is in first-class cars, for it is a luxury that must be paid for in hard gold - costing four or five times as much as the most comfortable travelling by railroad in the United States. And the second class cars - in which the great majority of the British people really travel - what are they? Neat boxes, in which you may sit down on a perfectly smooth board, and find out all the softness that lies in the grain of deal or good English oak - for they arc guiltless of all cushions. Our neighbors of this side of the Atlantic have been so long accustomed to catering for the upper class in this country, that the fact that the railroad is the most democratic institution of the day, has not yet dawned upon them in all its breadth.

An American rail-car, built to carry a large number in luxurious comfort, at a price that seems fabulous in England, pays better profits by the immense travel it begets, than the ill-devised first and second-class carriages of the English rail-ways.

But what finish and nicety in these English roads! The grades all covered with turf, kept as nicely as a lawn, quite down to the rails, and the divisions between the road and the lands adjoining, made by nicely trimmed hedges. The larger stations are erected in so expensive and solid a manner as to have greatly impaired the profits of some of the roads. But the smaller ones are almost always built in the style of the cottage ornee - and, inI reached London only to leave it again in another direction, to accept a kind invitation to the country house of Mrs.------the distinguished authoress of some charming works of fiction - which are widely known in my country, though I shall not transgress English propriety by giving you a clue to her real name.

This place reminded me of home more than any that I have seen in England; not, indeed, of my own home in the Hudson highlands, with its bold river and mountain scenery, but of the general features of American cultivated landscape. The house, which is not unlike a country house of good size with us, is situated on a hill which rises gently, but so high above the surrounding country, as to give a wide panorama of field and woodland, such as one sees from a height about Boston and Philadelphia. The approach, and part of the grounds, are bordered with plantations of forest trees, which, though all planted, have been left to themselves so much as to look quite like our native after-growth at home. The place, too, has not the thorough full-dress air of the great English country places where I have been staying lately, and both in extent and keeping, is more like a residence on the Hudson. The house sits down quite on a level with the ground, however, so that you can step out of the drawing-room on the soft grass, and stroll to yonder bright flower-garden, grouped round the fountain dancing in the sunshine, as if you were only going out of one room into another.