VIEW _on the_ HUDSON RIVER ] After sunset, a brisk wind sprang up, which carried us on at the rate of six or seven miles an hour for a considerable part of the night; but for some hours we had to lie at anchor at a place where the navigation of the river was too difficult to proceed in the dark. Our sloop was no more than seventy tons burthen by register; but the accommodations she afforded were most excellent, and far superior to what might be expected on board so small a vessel; the cabin was equally large with that in a common merchant vessel of three hundred tons, built for crossing the ocean. This was owing to the great breadth of her beam, which was no less than twenty-two feet and a half although her length was only fifty-five feet. All the sloops engaged in this trade are built nearly on the same construction; short, broad, and very shallow, few of them draw more than five or six feet water, so that they are only calculated for sailing upon smooth water. Early the next morning we found ourselves opposite to West Point, a place rendered remarkable in history by the desertion of General Arnold, during the American war, and the consequent death of the unfortunate Major André. The fort stands about one hundred and fifty feet above the level of the water, on the side of a barren hill; no human creature appearing in it except the solitary sentinel, who marched backwards and forwards on the ramparts overgrown with long grass, it had a most melancholy aspect that perhaps was heightened by the gloominess of the morning, and the recollection of all the circumstances attending the unhappy fate of poor André. Near West Point there is also another post, called Fort Putnam, which, since the peace, has been suffered to get very much out of repair; however, steps are now taking to have it put in good order. Supposing that a rupture should ever unfortunately again take place between Great Britain and the United States of America, these posts would be of the greatest consequence, as they form a link in that chain of posts which extend the whole way along the navigable waters that connect the British settlements with New York. [Sidenote: ALBANY.] In this neighbourhood the highlands, as they are called, commence, and extend along the river on each side for several miles. The breadth of the river is here considerably contracted, and such sudden gusts of wind, coming from between the mountains, sometimes blow through the narrow passes, that vessels frequently have their topmasts carried away. The captain of the sloop we were in, said, that his mainsail was once blown into tatters in an instant, and a part of it carried on shore. When the sky is lowering, they usually take in sail going along this part of the river. About four o’clock in the morning of the fourth of July we reached Albany, the place of our destination, one hundred and sixty miles distant from New York.