amazing; and in this respect they literally appear to me to want a sense. I have been filled with astonishment and perplexity at the total indifference with which they behold scenes of grandeur and loveliness, that any creature, with half a soul, would gaze at with feelings almost of adoration. But in these glorious tabernacles of nature, where God's majesty seems, as it were, visibly resting on his works, I have seen Americans come and stare, and stand for a moment, and depart again, apparently impressed with nothing but the singularity of the man or woman who could remain there longer than they did. What can be the cause of this?--Is it possible that a perception of the beautiful in nature is a result of artificial cultivation?--is it that the grovelling narrowness of the usual occupations to which the majority addict themselves has driven out of them the fine spirit, which is God's altar in men's souls?--is it that they become incapable of beauty? Wretched people! They remind me, by contrast, as I see them toiling along the crowded streets of their cities, those dens of Mammon, of Wordsworth's noble description of him "Who walk'd in glory and in joy, Behind his plough, upon the mountain side." * * * * * * * * * * At about sunset, I wandered into the wood, to the top of the steps leading to the waterfall; where I could hear, far below, its sweet voice singing as it passed away. I remained standing here till the carriage was announced. Just before we went away, our host gave me a small piece of crystal. It is found among the rocks here, which, I believe, present many curious geological phenomena, which I leave to the learned to describe. The strata are the most beautifully regular possible; and, upon their broad smooth surfaces, a thousand theories sit; which I hope I did not disturb, as I walked over them in the plenitude of my ignorance, admiring God's masonry. Oh, fair world!--oh, strange, and beautiful, and holy places--where one's soul meets one in silence--and where one's thoughts arise, with the everlasting incense of the waters, from the earth, which is _His_ footstool, to the heavens, which are _His_ throne. It grew dark long before we reached Utica: half the way I sang; the other half I slept, in spite of ruts five fathoms deep, and all the joltings of these evil ways. To-morrow we start on our way to Niagara; which, Mr. ---- says, is to sweep Trenton clean from our memories. I do not think it. _Saturday, 13th._