But to ensure the perusal of any future production, I must tax your patience no farther now. Suffice it to say that the farther I advance the better am I pleased with the tour I have undertaken. Let the issue be what it may, the commencement has introduced to me a friend, whom I shall _never_ forget. May the blessing of the Christian's God attend you. MELANCTHON L. WOOLSEY. To ---- ----. II. Lake Superior, July 5, 1831. It was my intention to have had a letter for you in readiness to send by Mr. Aikin, but we met him sooner than we expected, and I was obliged to postpone the fulfilment of my promise until the Indian boys returned. In my letter to Mrs. S., I conducted her as far as Lake Leelinau. Supposing that an account of our further progress would be as acceptable as any thing I can write, I will give you an invitation to a seat in our canoe, as we depart for the Pictured Rocks. These you have often heard described, and nothing can be added by my poor pen to what has already been said about them. They were all, and more than an excited imagination had conceived them to be. As we approach them the mind is struck with awe at their lofty battlements, and in comparison the most stupendous of the works of art sink into insignificance. Near their commencement a beautiful cascade comes tumbling down the rocks, and finally makes a leap of about thirty feet into the waters below. Passing on from this, we soon come to a most singular arrangement of rocks and arches, and the first thought that strikes the mind is, to ascend and give them an examination. It is the work but of a moment, for the eye is unsatisfied until it has drunk in all the wonders before it. Our first resting place was under the main arch, from which we had a bird's-eye view of the world of woods, and waters, and rocks, by which we were surrounded. While here, Mr. Clary with his barge came along, and jumping upon the rocks, he soon made one of our party, when we commenced a minute examination of the celebrated Doric Rock. The principal arch, under which we were, is about twenty feet in height; and while standing under its crumbling walls, our sensations were not lessened by the idea that in an instant it might be said of us, _we had been_. At our left, and in the centre of one of the large pillars another arch is formed,--upon entering this we still find one more at our right, and which commands a view of the lake. Between the two stands a pillar of stone, near four feet in height, entirely detached at the sides, and composed of thin plates of sand rock. As we go out from these, for the purpose of ascending the roof, a large urn of nature's own design and workmanship, appears before us. It might be a fit depository for the ashes of some of those mighty men, who before the children "with a white, white face," overran their country, strode through these forests, or in their light canoes bounded over these