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geese themselves. If this can be done, the opportunity should be embraced of unravelling several other knotty points in metaphysics.

Places which we visit after protracted intervals of time, can hardly ever wear, to our perceptions, precisely the same aspect, though they should in the mean time undergo no obvious change. Yet there may be exceptions to this general truth. The present associated images may fortuitously be so identical with those of a former hour, that the intervening years, with all their joys and sorrows, shall have their effects and influence momentarily suspended, and that we shall go back in the chronology of memory.

There is a well-known anecdote, illustrative of this phenomenon. A gentleman was about to sail for the East Indies, who had a propensity for telling long stories. He stood on the quay, with his most intimate friend, telling him one of his most prolix legends, when he was summoned to get into the small boat which was to convey him on board. Many years elapsed, during which he married and buried two wives, and made and lost a fortune, when he returned and landed on the same quay, where he met the same friend. "As I was saying"-he continued, taking him by the arm; and finished his narrative, resuming it at the precise point where he had been interrupted. There is nothing extravagantly improbable in this incident; and, from all I heard about it in Germany, there is no reason to doubt that it actually occurred.

When an alteration has been made in any place which it is our chance or desire to revisit, or when it has received some addition, no matter how small in comparison with the whole, the whole will seem changed to us; but it will depend on other associations, whether we most regard the novel object, and wonder whence it came, or the former scene, and wonder why it is altered.

In the course of my somewhat rambling life, I have myself often experienced the various effects which circum

stances produce, in changing the appearance of natural and artificial objects. But I remember no more violent and disagreeable sensations arising from this cause, than those which I felt on paying a second visit to what is called the Pine Orchard, an elevated platform on the Catskill Mountains, of late most terribly becockneyfied in newspaper prose.

I ascended to it many years ago, accompanied by two experienced admirers of nature. We carried with us only our pilgrim staves and scrips. Our path was a rugged and often a toilsome one; but, as it led us onward amid deep woods and a fine landscape bounded by a barren and wild prospect, in the valley through which the Katerskill creek runs, winding its course onward until it unites with the Kattskill or turned abruptly round some bold rampart, whose rocky foundation jutted forth in defiance, supporting a respectable hill, which would, in a level country, be dignified with the name of a mountain-or as it carried us over gurgling water-courses, through shady glens, and into dark ravines or left us to clamber and actually to crawl up precipitous ascents-still, "the rough road seemed not long." Ever-shifting scenery and converse as varied beguiled us, so that we felt not fatigue, and should scarcely bave been conscious of the difference between our sluggish progress, and that of "Hyperion's march on high," had it not been for the increasing heat. And ever and anon we paused to contemplate some striking picture before us; or arrested our footsteps, and stopped on a level landing-place to gaze on the region we had left behind, when a new opening presented such a combination of the imagery we had before beheld in detail, as the mind could not have grouped, or the imitative power of painter or poet expressed.

We were sensible that we were constantly ascending; but the mountain did not rise before the sight, nor was the point to be gained at all visible. And, afterward, I could not help assimilating our journey to that of Life, when the

unseen and unknown heaven has been steadfastly kept in mind as the bourne of its pilgrimage; and after toil encountered, mazes threaded, and difficulties overcome, it is crowned with the Beatific vision.

At length we reached a delightfully cool grotto, which, with its smooth projecting stone roof sheltered us from the sun, while we reclined on as primitive seats of the same material beneath. The moisture which exuded from the rock all around, filled this retreat with freshness. A natural basin in the living stone was filled with pure cold water by its secret fountains, which welled out also in other directions, forming little rivulets that played and murmured softly around our feet. Here we refreshed ourselves for a short time, and blessed the Nymph of the place, to whom antiquity would have given a name, had her haunt in classic days been approached by the footsteps of the then civilized

man.

My companions did not inform me how near we were to the Mecca of our pilgrimage; nor had they given me any other notion of the view from the spot we had almost reached, than that it was a very extensive one. When, therefore, after climbing a moderate ascent on the left, I stood upon the naked flat rock, two or three acres in extent, called the Pine Orchard, by a catachresis (a few dwarf evergreens of two feet high, or less, and of an unhealthy look, which sprouted from the crevices of the platform, being the only specimens of vegetation), and when I advanced to its brink, overlooking five or six States, the vastness of the scene that broke upon me all at once was overwhelming, and, at first, not understood.

I beheld-" Creation " as Natty Bumpo said, "dropping the end of his line into the water, and sweeping his hand around him in a circle." On the verge of this stupendous precipice, whose sheer descent is in some places nearly a thousand feet, in an atteuuated atmosphere, above the common clouds and vapours, with all heaven over head, and

half the earth, as it would seem at first, spread beneath the feet, there was nothing artificial, nothing that man had done, to relieve or break the suspension of the faculties which occurred instantaneously when the prospect burst upon the eye. We stood on this narrow table-land, isolated from the world; of which we gazed on a portion seen in miniature so far below; while beside, and behind us, the everlasting mountains lifted their heads, still towering higher into the clear and boundless firmament.

The presence of Gon was realized in the breathless pause of the moment. Nor did the sensation accompanying this consciousness soon pass away. On changing my position, to which I had been fixed and rooted for the time, on moving to other points of observation, and on ascending to higher acclivities, still the same unlimited extension lay before the sight, and the image of eternity dwelt upon the mind.

And when we arose the next morning (for we bivouacked after a fashion beneath the rocks and under the trees), the mist that covered the level scene below, just before the dawn, unbounded by any outline, but mingling with the allcasing air that enwraps the planet we live upon, presented to the feelings a more immediate though cloudy type of that which is without beginning or end, or any confines, than the ocean itself has ever suggested to me. I have been on much more elevated spots, and have powerfully felt the natural influences of the locality, and the picture before

But the sense of mighty solitude, of somewhat oppressive and always sublimating abstraction from the peddling concerns of mankind, never overcame me more forcibly than on this occasion. I heard a deep voice, though all was silent, and saw a vast phantom stretching and spreading away for ever; and the shadow which this pageant cast over the brain was constantly that of "Eternity, Eternity, and Power."

There has been no description attempted fit to be com

pared for an instant with that given by the hunter in the Pioneers, either of this place or of the neighbouring Fall. It was my fortune to read the passages to which I refer before I thought of expressing in written language my own recollections of the effects produced on myself by both of them. My ingenious countryman has anticipated me altogether (as he has anticipated everybody else), by making his favourite hero the organ of his own reminiscences.

As we stood on the floor of rocks, down which the streamlet which was so soon to take so terrible a leap, came sportively winding and dancing onward, with as much glee as if it was always holyday upon earth, and as we looked down into the profound depths, where its waters, after having been resolved and shattered into spray, resumed their course-and gazed laboriously up the side of another gigantic mountain, rising fairly to the sight, in all its distinct grandeur, from its very base to its dome-shaped summit, clothed from bottom to top with its drapery of solemn woods, mounting girdle upon girdle, until the eye ached that tried to count for even a small portion of its unmeasured conoid, the number of their cinctures-here, there, and everywhere we saw nothing which interfered with the religion of the place. Nature remained, stalled and throned in her own holy solitudes. We trod, involuntarily, with cautious steps; and spoke in regulated tones, as if feeling that we were in her Cathedral; that the voices of her waters and the whisperings of her wilderness were devotional litanies and thanksgivings.

I do not think that Natty Bumpo himself would have been much more scandalized and afflicted, had he known that the march of the "Settlements" would extend up to these wild regions, where, by himself alone, he had chased the bear, the wolf, and the panther, and where, safe from man's intrusion, he had gazed from his eyrie, in his contemplative moods, upon the "carryings on" of this world-than I was, when I learned that some people had been building

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