_Sunday, 31st._--Before six A.M. we were set ashore at Albany. Breakfasted at the Eagle, and at nine A.M. left for Saratoga by the railroad; thence by stage to Whitehall. The day was fine, the roads rough enough to be sure. To the north lay the mountain State of Vermont, and to the south a ridge of bold well-wooded heights. At Glenfalls we passed the Hudson by a wooden bridge thrown over the very foot of the cataract: luckily, whilst in the act of crossing, a trace came unhitched, and we pulled up to order matters, just at the centre of the misty abyss. Thus were we afforded ample leisure to look on the wild fall, which, when in the wilderness, must have been a glorious scene; for, disfigured as it now is by a mill or two of the ordinary kind, it is still magnificent. Our ride from this place to Whitehall reminded me much of some part of North Wales: the enclosures are small, irregularly shaped, and surrounded by walls of stone; many rills of clear water are crossed, making their way to the Hudson through rough courses bestrewn with fragments of rock: close on the left the river is itself visible every now and then, whilst in the distance rise a confused heap of wild mountains. Numerous comely-looking pigs, together with groups of round-faced fat children, barefooted and bareheaded, complete the resemblance. For the last seven miles the road was of the roughest kind; but our coachman rattled along merrily, getting us to Whitehall by ten P.M. _Monday, June 1st._--At about one we quitted the comfortable inn here, and the busy little town of Whitehall; and in the fine steamer Phoenix thridded our way out of the swampy harbour formed by the head-waters of the lake. The hills about us rose boldly, and were covered with a variety of trees now clothed in their freshest leaves, therefore beautiful to look on. For many miles the channel continues narrow, at times confined by a steep wall of marble surmounted by rich flowering shrubs; then, for a short distance, laving the edge of some rich meadow slope. At last, the lake expanded gloriously, reminding me, at a first glimpse, of the Trossachs, save that here was less grandeur and deep shadow, the outlines of the mountains were softer and the valleys more fertile. The green mountains of the State of Vermont now bounded the lake upon the north, and on the south rose the Giant-mountains of the State of New York. These were for ever changing in form, as we crossed and re-crossed the lake in order to land or receive passengers from stated points. This circumstance also brought us acquainted with several very lovely locations. Beneath the old fort of Ticonderago we halted for a few minutes; and at Crown-point our stay was long enough to allow a rough sketch to be taken of the roofless barracks and the ruined works.