ously from the water; in others, small cultivated hills here and there ornamented with a gentleman's house attract the eye. In one part, where the river passes through the Kaatskill mountains, it expands into a capacious basin resembling a lake, having that seclusion in the midst of magnificence, which gives to lake scenery its characteristic charm. We cast anchor in it, and just at twilight the steam-boat passed us. No sound was to be heard but that of its paddles striking the water. I looked around me, and while surveying the hills dark below, and bright above with the sunshine, I felt the power of a placid, majestic scene on the mind. It is productive of that pleasing melancholy described by Dyer,

"There is a mood,

There is a kindly mood of melancholy

That wings the soul and points her to the skies."

On the following morning we came in sight of two towns, one on each side of the river. They formed an agreeable spectacle, as showing us, that notwithstanding our last evening's loneliness, we were still near man and his haunts ; for beautiful as nature is, it is in society that our chief delight is found. Beauty after beauty claimed my attention till we reached Albany. The Hudson at a future day will attract Americans as the Rhine now attracts Europeans.

From Albany I proceeded to Schenectady, through rough uninviting lands. From that place to Little Falls, the road runs by the side. of the Mohawk, a river tributary to the Hudson. With rocky hills on one side, and water on the other, the prospect is in some parts picturesque, though there is more often a dreariness displeasing to the eye, and repelling to the fancy. The village of Little Falls is quite romantic. The river being impeded in its course by huge. stones, in a spot where the descent is rapid, dashes through them with fearful impetuosity. A little below the rapids, stands an aqueduct for supplying the Erie canal, and though of only three arches, yet being a handsome piece of masonry, it contrasts well with the rugged scene around. Below the aqueduct is an islet covered with trees; an interesting feature in the landscape. Parallel with the river runs the canal, and it having been necessary in its formation to remove a large portion of the rock by blasting, a wall of great height surmounted by trees flanks it for some distance. Above, below, and opposite, the rock remains in its natural state, knoll upon knoll as if nature were in a vagary. If the hand of taste were judiciously applied in this enchanting spot, it might be rendered like what we fancy of fairy land. Westward of Little Falls

extends a tract called the German Flatts. Numerous farm houses having an appearance of great comfort, surrounded by land in a middling state of cultivation and in sight of lofty hills, make this an agreeable part to travel in.

The lakes in New York are worthy the notice of the admirer of nature, for though not encompassed by mountains, and of course not sublime, they have beauties by no means despicable. The native forest at present occupies the circumjacent land, removed here and there however to make way for a village with its little church spire, and for green pastures where sheep and oxen are seen grazing. Where a small stream fails into the lake, there is a beautiful opening in the bank exhibiting trees of various heights and foliage. It was a fine day when I made the voyage of Lake Cayuga in a steam-packet. Autumn had just begun to embrown and redden the forest, giving it its most attractive aspect. The cultivated patches, refreshed by some recent showers, seemed in their holiday dress: and who but could rejoice in the thought that the whole wilderness was likely in a few years to give place to corn and pasture? It was animating to reflect that a numerous population will be here settled, and that that land where the roaming savage pursued

his prey, never advancing one step in civilization, will be occupied by an industrious people, cultivating the arts and charities of social life with the domestic gratifications and virtues. If a copy of my book should chance to reach posterity, some future inhabitant of this region may exult in the realization of my anticipations. Near the village of Ithaca at the south end of the lake are some fine waterfalls, to which I was conducted by an inhabitant with whom I fell into conversation. A small creek called Fall creek has seven of them differing from each other in appearance, and all beautiful. In one the descent is perpendicular, in another the masses of rock are so arranged, as to look like a natural staircase, over which the water tumbles and foams, the dark brown rock showing itself in places through the white froth. The rocks on each side rise in several parts perpendicularly to the height of one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet in other parts, the swell is gradual: in all, timber is abundant. There are two or three tremendous fissures in the hills; and the spectator standing on the brink of one of them, if he first surveys the cascade, then directs his eyes to the gulf below, and the prodigious rocks around, will find in the whole a truly majestic scene. Taken separately the parts are beautiful,

A

combined almost awful. To add to the general interest, there is a passage between two lofty walls, made by digging and blasting the rock to form a sluice for the supply of a mill. Few objects of the kind are more imposing. Besides the cascades in Fall creek, there are several others in the neighbourhood of Ithaca, in one of which, the water falls into a basin of considerable depth, from a height of fifteen or twenty feet. person told me, that he had plunged from the ledge of the rock over which it passes into the stream, and had been driven by it to the bottom of the basin. Being informed that on the other side of the lake, there was a fall still more worthy of notice than those I had seen, I walked to Trumansberg, near which village it is situate; and richly indeed was I recompensed. A sheet of water about twenty feet wide has an unbroken fall of two hundred, appearing before it reaches the bottom like mist. The rocks rise around it perpendicularly on every side, and are three hundred feet high, forming an amphitheatre of prodigious dimensions. I should have liked to view this from below; but I found it would require more time to descend to the bottom than I could conveniently spare, and my companion was eager to return. From above, it was the sublimest and most thrilling object I had ever seen. I crept to