in one great cauldron, the whole river boiling up in white and milky appearance, and then winding off in its deep channel, till at length it again assumed its native hue of green. The islands and groves, and wild scenery that environ this wonder of the world, were all gathered in one rich group distinctly before the eye. Who can look on such a scene and not remember its Creator? What must be the glories which God will reveal to his ransomed and sanctified people in the celestial world, when he allows to linger here amid the defilements and desolations of sin such traces of surpassing beauty and loveliness! We took Rochester in our way, and thence directed our course by stage to Canandaigua, which, with its tasteful court-yards, and beautiful houses, and elegantly shaded streets, reminds one of a beauteous, gemmed, and highly adorned bride that has retired from the festal scene, and is seeking repose in some rural bower. The country through which we rode from Rochester to Geneva is in a high state of cultivation, and the rich fields of waving grain around one makes him feel at every step that he is passing through the garden of America. We reached Geneva in the early part of the afternoon. There is not a lovelier spot beneath the far-expanded sky for the site of a village than the banks of the Seneca. Though the business part of the village is situated principally on the northwest corner of the lake, by far the most beautiful part of the town stretches along on the western bank which rises some fifty or hundred feet above the quiet waters of this beautiful lake. Here a street runs along parallel with the lake, and the most delightful residences are built up on either side. Almost every dwelling has before it a fine court-yard filled with shrubbery and ornamented with flowers. And those built on the brow of the lake have gardens terraced down to the water's edge. The lake is here some three miles wide, stretching off forty miles to the south, and presenting on the opposite side a beautiful and finely-cultivated country. On this street, looking off upon this lovely sheet of water, stands the college. As we recede to the west the land rises by gentle and successive undulations for a mile or two, furnishing on the summit of these successive ridges the most delightful locations for residences, from some of which you have brought within the ken of your eye the whole village and lake, and country beyond. I have already partially described the street that runs along on the western bank of the lake, which is adorned and shaded with trees, and on which the college and principal churches are built. Farther west and running parallel with this is another street inferior in beauty, but peculiarly attractive to me, as at its northern extremity is situated the old burying ground, where sleeps the dust of many, many dear friends.