nine miles from the latter lake. Its perpendicu lar height may be about two hundred feet; but the cause of its violence is that, from Lake Erie to the cataract, the river constantly flows with a rapid declination for almost six leagues so that, at the place of fall, it is more like an impetuous sea than a river, and a hundred thousand torrents seem to be rushing towards the gaping gulph. The cataract is divided into two branches, and forms a curve, in the shape of a horse-shoe, the length of which is about half a mile. Between the two falls is an enormous rock hollowed out below, which hangs with all its firs, over the chaos of the waters. The mass of the river, which precipitates itself on the south side, is collected into the form of a large cylinder at the moment it quits the brink, then rolls out in snowy whiteness, and shines in the sun with every variety of prismatic colours. That, which falls on the northern side, descends in a terrific cloud like a column of water at the deluge. Innumerable bows are to be seen in the sky, curving and crossing over the abyss, and from it proceeds a horrid roar which is heard to the

Wild

distance of sixty miles around. The water, thus furiously falling on the rock beneath, recoils in clouds of whirling spray, which mount above the summits of the forest, and resemble the thick smoke of a tremendous conflagration. Enor mous rocks, towering upwards like gigantic phantoms, decorate the sublime scene. walnut trees, of a reddish and scaly appearance, find the means of desolate existence upon these fossil skeletons. Scarcely a living animal is seen in the neighbourhood, except eagles, which, as they hover above the cataract in search of prey, are overpowered by the current of air, and forced with giddy fall to the bottom of the abyss.

The spotted Carcajou, suspended by its long tail from the extremity of a lower branch, tries to catch the fragments of drowned carcases which are thrown ashore by the boiling surge, such as those of elks and bears; while rattlesnakes announce, by their baleful sound, that they are lurking on every side.

VISIT

TO THE COUNTRY OF THE SAVAGES.

I TOOK my departure for the country of the Savages in a packet boat, which was to convey me from New-York to Albany by Hudson's river. The passengers were numerous and agreeable, consisting of several women and some American Officers. A fresh breeze conducted us gently towards our destination. Towards the evening of the first day, we assembled upon deck, to partake of a collation of fruit and milk. The women seated themselves upon the benches, and the men were stationed at their feet. The conversation was not long kept up. I have always remarked that when nature exhibits a sublime or beautiful prospect, the spectators involuntarily become silent. Suddenly one of the company exclaimed: "Near that place Major André was executed." My ideas instantly took another turn. A very pretty American lady was intreated to sing the ballad, which describes the story of

that unfortunate young man. She yielded to our solicitation; her voice evidently betrayed her timidity, but it was exceedingly replete with sweet and tender sensibility.

The sun now set, and we were in the midst of lofty mountains. Here and there huts were seen, suspended over the abysses, but they soon disappeared among the clouds of mingled white and rosy hue, which, horizontally flitted past these dwellings. rocks and firs were discovered above these clouds, one might have fancied them to be islands floating in the air. The majestic river, the tides of which run North and South, lay outstretched before us in a strait line, inclosed between two exactly parallel banks. Suddenly it took a turn to the West, winding its golden waves around a mountain which overlooked the river with all its plants, and had the appearance of a large bouquet, tied at its base with azure riband. We preserved a profound silence; for my own part, I hardly ventured to breathe. Nothing interrupted the plaintive song of the fair passenger, except the sound (of which we were hardly sensible) made by the vessel, as it glided before a

When the summits of the

light breeze through the water. Sometimes the voice acquired an additional swell when we steered near the bank, and in two or three places it was repeated by a slight echo. The ancients would have imagined that the soul of André, attracted by this impressive melody, felt a pleasure in murmuring its last notes among the mountains. The idea of this brave and unfortunate man, who was a lover and a poet, who died for his country in the flower of his age, regretted by his fellow citizens and honoured by the tears of Washington, spread over this romantic scene a softer tint. The American officers and I had tears in our eyes-I from the effect of the delicious state of mind into which I was plunged-They no doubt from the recollection of their country's past troubles, which doubled the calmness of the present moment. They could not, without a sort of ecstacy, contemplate a district, lately covered with battalions in glittering arms, and resounding with the noise of war, now buried in profound tranquility, lighted by the last fires of day, decorated with all the pomp of nature, animated by the soft whistle of Virginian night