ourselves again in our vehicle, and progressed. Mr. ---- had procured for me a bunch of flowers; and I amused myself with making a wreath of them. Our route lay over what is called the Ridge road; a very remarkable tract, pursuing a high embankment, which was once the boundary of Lake Ontario; though the waters are now distant from it upwards of seven miles. The theories of the geologists respecting the former position of the lake are very singular; though borne out by similar instances of natural convulsions, and also by the very features of the land. The country through which we journeyed to-day was wilder and less cultivated than any we have yet seen. A great deal of forest land, consisting of close, thin, tall, second-growth, springing around the stump of many a huge tree; thick tangled underwood; marsh and damp green wilderness, where the grass and bushes trailed about in rank luxuriance; and piles of felled timber, with here and there a root yet smoking, bore witness to the first inroads of human cultivation. None of the trees that were standing were of any girth, or comparable in size and beauty to our park trees; but some of the stumps were of large size, and must have been the foundations of noble forest pillars. Our road, after leaving the Ridge road, was horrible: for some length of time before we reached Lockport, we were dragged over what is called a _corduroy road_; which consists merely of logs of wood laid close to each other, the natural inequalities of which produce a species of jolting incomparably superior to any other I ever felt, and administering but little comfort either to our bruised bones or apprehensive nerves. We reached Lockport at about four o'clock. There had been rain in the course of the morning, but the evening was clear, though very cold. The appearance of Lockport is very singular: a collection of new white houses, that look as though they were but this instant finished, standing in a half-cleared wilderness. All round the town, if such it may be called, stretch the remains of the once pathless woods, half cleared, half savage-looking yet; and, as far as the eye can reach, the country presents a series of dreary slopes, covered with prostrate trees, heaps of hewn timber, smoking stumps, and blackened trunks--a sort of forest stubble-land--a very desolate-looking thing indeed. The house where we stopped appeared to be hardly finished. We ordered dinner, and I forthwith began kindling a fire, which was extremely welcome to us all. I was very much bruised with our morning's overturn, and went and lay down in my bed-room, where I presently slept profoundly. _Wednesday, 17th._