Sunday, Nov. 1.--This day was spent in visiting a family near Louisville, friends of my youthful days, whom I had not seen for eighteen years. As I approached the dwelling, happy days that are never to return, pleasant hours, youthful, happy and blooming faces, joyous scenes and many dear moments, flashed suddenly across my mind. But judge of my disappointment on meeting the remains of this amiable family. I will not attempt to express feelings that in the human language know no description. Mrs. M----, a truly good woman, had been borne to that shore "from whence no traveler returns." Her daughter, who was the admiration of all that knew her, soon followed. The remains of the family which eighteen years ago was young and fashionable, elegant and beautiful, had become sedate, crooked, wrinkled and even gray. To witness the ravages of time produced a gloom which lasted several days. I took an affectionate leave of them, never expecting to see them again. Tuesday, Nov. 3.--Remained in Louisville Monday and part of today. Left Aleen's the 2d. Passed through Shipping Port, on the bank of the Ohio, two and one-half miles below Louisville. A very promising little village. Twelve or thirteen steamboats lying at this place aground, owing to the unusual drought. Curiosity induced me to go on board the largest steamboat in the world, lying at this place. She is called the United States, and is owned by a company of gentlemen. I have taken down her dimensions: Length of keel, 165 feet 8 inches; depth of hold, 11 feet 3 inches; breadth of beam and girder, 56 feet; length on deck, 176 feet 8 inches; breadth of beam without girder, 37 feet. This mammoth boat has eight boilers and elegant accommodations for a large number of passengers. Many of the steamships lying at this place are built on improved plans and are very handsome. We crossed the Ohio at a point where it is three-quarters of a mile wide. Passed through New Albany, Ind., a little village inhabited by tavernkeepers and mechanics. Traveled to Miller's, a distance of six miles over the knobs. Country very much broken. Some steep hills and sugar-loaf knobs. The woods being on fire, a scene truly sublime presented itself at night. The lands indifferent. Weather warm and dry. Passed many travelers bound to the west, and met three or four wagons with families returning from the promised land. Slept in a house without glass in the windows and no fastenings to the doors. The inhabitants impudent and lazy beyond example. Supped on cabbage, turnips, pickles, beets, beefsteak made of pickled beef, rye coffee and sage tea. The people of Indiana differ widely from Kentuckians in habits, manners and even dialect. Whilst hospitality, politeness and good sense characterize Kentuckians, ignorance, impudence and laziness has stamped the Indianians. III.--A BROTHERHOOD OF CUTTHROATS