We arrived at this place about half after three in the afternoon of a rainy and disagreeable day. There is something truly grand all along the _frontier_ as far as I have seen it. But great nations should have great landmarks. Towards evening I walked down to the river, which is but a short distance, but having spent its wrath, and left the upper region, as it were, it gradually expands, and flows quietly to wed its destined bride, _Ontario_. I could distinctly see the very spot on which poor Brock fell, for it was pointed out by a white-painted post, standing a few rods from the monumental column. It was from this height immediately opposite where I stood, that the British troops surprised our brave soldiers while taking a refreshment, and rushed upon them with such terrible fury as to cause them to leap the precipice, the first pitch of which is nearly 100 feet, surrounded by huge crags and rocks. But there was no alternative--for death behind them, by the bayonet, was sure. Many of these poor fellows were killed by the leap, while others clung to the rocks and there received the balls of the enemy, who, with deliberate aim, amused themselves by sending them into the dreadful abyss below. The thought that the theatre of this dreadful carnage was before me, caused me to shudder and cry aloud, "O the merciless horrors of war!" On the morning of the 14th I was called up early to take stage for Rochester, distant eighty miles, fare $3.25. We started at 5 o'clock, six of us, and arrived at the wonderful mushroom of the west at 5 in the afternoon, over the great ridge road, the finest I have ever travelled. This road is truly remarkable. It seems to me that when old mother Nature, after having perfected the gigantic cataract originally begun at Lewistown, was so tickled and delighted with her production, that she resolved to make a pathway for the children of men to come and see her prodigy--accordingly she went to work and made this beautiful turnpike of from eight to twelve rods wide, of hard gravel and sand, through a low country of swamp and clay--and said to the children of men, "Travel, behold and wonder!" But, to speak seriously upon the subject. I should say that when the falls were at Lewistown, this remarkable natural turnpike was the shore and beach of Ontario, as the whole of the land lying between it and the lake is low and swampy. Its direction is in form of a curve, and parallel to the lake shore. Its elevation above the land on either side is from ten to thirty feet, and is perfectly hard, and free from stones and ruts. This indeed seems to be the country of the _greats_ and the _grands_. Here we have the Grand Clinton Canal, the Great Western Turnpike, the Great and Grand Falls of Niagara, the Great Lakes, the scites of the Great Battles, the Great Ridge Road, and many others that I have not seen.