of the mountain, I observed enormous masses of rock piled irregularly on each other, as if some subterraneous eruption had taken place there. From the spot where I stood, I had to make my way by a circuitous route to the high road. This I accomplished just before sunset, having been engaged nearly the whole day in traversing the mountain, tasting nothing and seeing no fellow being. I had yet six miles to walk to reach a house of shelter for the night, and pushing forward with vigour, I had not long to walk in the dark. Mountainous scenery is beheld to most advantage by twilight, indistinctness contributing to its majesty. Never before was I so struck with it, the total silence adding to the whole a sort of religious reverence. Just as I gained the farm-house where I requested and obtained a lodging, the moon rose from behind the mountain giving a new and more lovely aspect to both mountain and valley, and enabling me to see it in its various hues of blue, brown, yellow, and white. The valley into which I had now entered was uncultivated to a great extent, and destitute of beauty. I made my way to Charlottesville where fine scenery again claims the notice of the traveller. But it seems unnecessary to say more in illustration of American scenery, except in a few general particulars.

C

In no part is cultivation so finished as to exhibit all the charms of which it is susceptible; hence, where nature has not been liberal, travelling, as far as external appearances contribute to enjoyment, is little interesting, especially, as there are no large houses of tasteful architecture surrounded by lawns and woods of regular formation. Ornamental gardening is seldom seen; picturesque gardening totally unknown. It may have been these things which led an American author to say of his country, that it is the land of dull realities. The pleasure I experienced in surveying many different spots where grandeur reigns triumphant, and in tracing the minute beauties of others, as the banks of the Brandywine and Schuylkill, which though different from each other are both rich in attractions, forbid my concurring in this remark. The proportion of land incapable of being made arable is small, consequently absolute barrenness seldom displeases the eye. Even in swampy ground all is not desolate. The Dismal Swamp in Virginia and North Carolina is covered with juniper and cedar trees. And on the whole it And on the whole it may be said, that if art has done comparatively little in improving nature, nature in many instances is on a scale so large as to need scarcely any of her assistance. I ought not here to omit mentioning

that the sun sets in America with a radiance so surpassing, that it filled me with wonder and delight. How often have I stopped in my evening rambles to feast my eyes with the glorious prospect! The sky seemed in flame, as bright as an iron furnace when the liquid metal flows from it into the moulds.

In my walks through the country, especially when traversing the native forest, I was forcibly struck with the general silence of nature. How little was there to please compared with the melody of our groves! Frequently, nothing was to be heard but the woodpecker striking his bill against a tree. At other times I heard a chorus of frogs chirping rather than croaking. In the evening, I have stopped to listen to the plaintive but tiresome note of the whipperwill, a bird, named like the cuckow from its unvarying voice. But the lark springing upward to the sky, and making every thing resound with its lively, inspiriting strain; or the blackbird with its clear whistle; or the nightingale with its full, rich, voluptuous swell and fall;-these are not to be heard in America, to say nothing of the linnet, the thrush, or the whole tribe of finches. They have indeed birds called by these names, but they are quite different from ours. Some how

ever they have of very pleasant song, which may be heard at daybreak, and for an hour or two after. I cannot speak of the mocking-bird, for I was not fortunate enough to hear it; but I heard several whose names I have forgotten, which made the woods vocal in an enchanting manner. But no sooner does the sun gain considerable power, than a silence like the grave supervenes, except in the ponds and bogs, where the frogs and toads have fixed their abode. In many parts you may listen in vain to hear any sound at all. In the words of Dr. Young,

"Listening ear no object finds;

Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and nature made a pause;
An awful pause! prophetic of her end."

CHAPTER II.

CITIES, TOWNS, AND VILLAGES.

As the place where I first landed in America was New York, I shall begin by giving some account of that city. Standing like Constantinople on a point of land, it is nearly encompassed by water, and appears at a little distance as if afloat. Ships of the largest burden can approach it at all times of the year, and obtain secure anchorage in its harbour. It unites the advantages of a port on the sea-board, with those of a port like London or Hamburg, without the delays incident to a long river navigation. So important is this felt to be, that it is common for persons from Baltimore, Philadelphia, Montreal and Quebec to come to New York to take ship for Europe. That fine river the Hudson, after running longitudinally for upwards of three hundred miles, empties itself into New York bay. By means of canals now in progress, the city will soon be able to transport its merchandise into the western regions as well as the northern. Lakes Erie, Ontario, and Champlain will directly communicate with it, and contribute to its pros