The celerity with which the soil has been peopled, and the har mony which has prevailed in the erection of their governments, has no parallel in history, and seems to be the effect of magic rather than of human agency. Europe was at one time overrun by numereus hordes, who rushing like a torrent from the North, in search of a more genial climate, captured or expelled the effeminate inhabitants of the South, and planted colonies in its richest provinces. But these were barbarians who conquered with the sword, and ruled with the rod of iron. The "arm of flesh" was visible in all their operations. The colonies, like ours, were formed by emigration-the soil was peopled with an exotic population -but here the parallel ends. The country gained by violence, was held by force; the blood stained soil produced nothing but "man and steel, the soldier and his sword."

What a contrast does our happy country present to scenes like these! It remained for us to exhibit to the world, the novel spectacle of a people coming from various nations, and differing in language politics and religion, sitting down quietly together, erecting new states, forming constitutions and enacting laws, without blood-shed or dissention. Our curiosity is naturally excited to know what powerful attraction has drawn these multitudes from their native plains, and why, like bees, they swam as it were, to the same bough; nor is it less interesting to inquire by what process such heterogeneous particles have become united, and to observe the effect of so extraordinary a combination. Is it not singular to behold the Englishman and the Frenchman rushing to the same goal; the laborious, economical New-Englander, treading the same path with the high-minded, luxurious native of the South; nay, even the cautious German, with an enterprise foreign to his nature, rearing his vine and his fig-tree, at a spot whence the footsteps of the savage aborigines are scarcely yet effaced? Is it not more strange that such men can live in fellow ship, act in unison, make laws in peace, and " do all things which are requisite and necessary, as well for the body as the soul," in harmonious concert.

But there are other considerations besides those of a political nature, which render this country peculiarly interesting. It is the refuge of thousands, who have fled from poverty, from tyranny, and from fanaticism. The tumults of Europe have driven hither crowds of unhappy beings, whose homes have been ren

dered odious or unsafe, by the mad ambition of a few aspiring sovereigns. Here is no Holy Alliance, trafficking in human blood; no sceptre to be obeyed; no mitre to be worshipped. Here they find not merely a shelter from the rude storm that pelts them, but they become proprietors of the soil, and citizens in the state. Here they learn the practical value of that liberty, which they only knew before in theory. They learn here that although the Englishman is born a freeman, the American only is bred a freeman. You are not to suppose, however, that this is the land of radicals and paupers. Far from it. Though many emigrate from necessity, still more do it from inclination. Among the emigrants are many gentlemen of wealth and education, whose object is to build up estates for their children, in a country which offers such facilities for the accumulation of property, and which presents so fair a promise to posterity. By far the greater class, however, are neither wealthy nor poor; these are respectable farmers and mechanics, who in the present unpropitious times, find it to their interest to seek out a residence, where their labours will yield more profit than at home.

There are also a variety of historical and literary facts connected with this country, which serve to give it interest in the eyes of an American. Braddock was defeated, and Washington immortalized on the romantic shores of the Monongahela; and the vicinity of Pittsburgh, already famous for the loveliness of its mountain scenery, and the magnitude of its mineral treasures, has been the scene of martial atchievements, which may one day wake the lyre of the Pennsylvania bard, to strains as national and as sweet as those of Scott. In the western forests, did Wayne gather a wreath of imperishable laurel; and St. Clair—I blush to same him-injured man! a crown of thorns. On the borders of the Ohio, Butler fell in the prime of his life, and the vigour of his ambition, leaving a name which his countrymen have delighted to embalm. Can we trace with indifference the path of Burr, the sweetest of all seducers, but himself seduced by the wildest of all visionary schemes; or pass without a tear of sympathy, the spot where the philosophic Blannerhasset, surrounded in his loved seclusion, with rural and literary enjoyments, tasted of " that peace which the world cannot give"-tasted alas! but for a moment, and dashed away! Is it not delightful, to stray along those shores where Wilson strayed-to view the scenes which charmed his

poetic fancy-to mark the plumage, and listen to the "wood-notes wild," which allured him through many a weary mile.

Who has not heard of the Antiquities of the West? Who that has heard, has not listened with admiration or incredulity? Of all that has been written on this most interesting subject, how little has appeared that could satisfy a reasonable mind! The time was when the tales of western travellers, were received as fanciful productions, written to beguile the unwary emigrant into the fangs of speculating avarice. When we read of the Great Valley, whose noble rivers stretching in every direction from the distant mountains, poured their waters into the bosom of the Father of Streams; and of the rich bottoms, extensive prairies, and gigantic forests of the west, we could smile at what we believed to be simple exaggeration. But when we heard of caverns extending horizontally for miles, and exhibiting traces of former inhabi tants; of immense mausoleums filled with human bones, some of them of a dwarfish size, which indicate the former existence of a piginy race; of the skeletons of gigantic brutes; of metalic ornaments, warlike instruments, and earthen utensils, found buried in the soil; of the vestiges of temples, and fortifications, in short of the many remains of a civilized population, we were inclined to consider them as gross impostures. Yet all these curiosities actually exist, as well as many others of equal interest; and while we can no longer withhold our credence, we cannot help exclaiming,

"Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer cloud,
Without our special wonder!"

Are you answered now? Is not here sufficient food for speculation? Will it not be gratifying to mingle with the mighty flood which is sweeping onward to the west, to see it prostrating the forest, and depositing the seeds of art and refinement? The spots which I shall visit have not been consecrated by the classic pen -an Homer has not sung their heroes, nor an Ovid peopled their shades with divinity-but shall I not stroll among the ruins of ancient cities, and recline upon the tombs of departed heroes? You may not admire my taste-but believe me, I should tread with as much reverence over the mausoleum of a Shawanee chief as among the catacombs of Egypt, and would speculate with

as much delight on the site of an Indian village, as in the gardens of Tivoli, or the ruins of Herculaneum.

But to add another, and a last inducement; there has been a material variance in the statements of writers who have treated of this country, and of travellers who have visited it. Some laud it as a paradise, others denounce it as a hell. Some have given it health, fertility, and commercial advantages, others have filled it with swamps, agues, tomahawks, and musquitoes. One writer tells us, that "a dirk is the inseparable companion of every gentleman in Illinois," while another facetiously hints that the ladies in Kentucky, conceal the same weapon among the folds of their graceful vestments. This latter insinuation, however, I take to be a metaphorical compliment to the lovely daughters of Kentucky, believing as I do, that the gentleman, alluding to an expres. sion of Romeo, intended to say, "there is more peril in those eyes than twenty of their dirks." I could refer you to a thousand other strange stories, but I have not room.

"I will see into it," said Mr. Shandy, when he went to France to learn whether" they ordered things better" there than at home; "I will see into it" said I, when I found how doctors disagreed about a section of my native country, and it is in conformance with this determination, that I am now fairly embarked, and gliding merrily down the Ohio.

No. 2.

DEAR N.

The promises of friendship, like those of love, are often carelessly made, and lightly broken. We are ready to concede any thing to the entreaty of one we love, without reflecting how many little contingencies may interfere with the engagement. Our hearts are indeed but bad economists, and are apt to make liberal promises, which they have neither the ability, nor the inclination afterwards to fulfil. Thus it is that the last request of a friend, which at parting, vibrates feelingly on the ear, and entwines itself among our warmest sympathies, is often obliterated by the pains or pleasures of new scenes and novel avocations. My pledge to you, however, was of such a nature as not to be so easily forgotten. Dearly as I love to lounge away the passing hours, I should feel highly culpable, could I forget, for a moment, that you have a claim to part of them; and independently of this incentive, I assure you

that the pleasure I shall experience in participating my sentiments with one so able to appreciate them, will more than compensate me for the labour of making up the record. But for these reflections, believe me, my last long epistle would have exhausted my patience, as I dare say it has yours, and I should never have had the temerity to attempt another. But I have promised to write, and you are doomed to listen.

I left Pittsburg, in a keel-boat, carrying about forty-five tons, laden with merchandise, and navigated by eight or ten of those "half horse and half alligator" gentry, commonly called Ohio boatmen, whose coarse drollery, I forsee already, will afford us some amusement. My cabin is in the bow of the boat, and is formed by leaving a vacancy among the boxes and barrels which encompass me. I have an excellent bedstead composed of the same materials as the walls aforesaid; and here I snore among British goods, and domestic manufactures, as composedly as if neither of those articles had ever caused us one moments angry discussion. The deck, or roof, of the boat, affords ample room for a promen. ade; and there I saunter or recline, and enjoy the varied hues of the forest, now just budding into luxuriance. When tired of this employment, or when the sun is too high to allow me to continue it, I retire below, and read a little, sing a little, whistle a little, and if all that will not fill up the time, I turn in and sleep a little.Thus I manage to pass away the time, in the most tedious of all tiresome situations, that of being imprisoned in a boat.

The view of Pittsburg, from the Ohio river, is exceedingly beautiful. The rivers Alleghenny and Monongahela, with their fine bridges, the surrounding hills, the improvements in the rear of the town, and the villages on each side of it, all show to great advantage. Description would be vain-for I assure you I have seldom felt so lovely a prospect.

The river pursues a winding course to Steubenville, presenting nothing worthy of remark but its beautiful scenery, which is in the highest degree romantic. From Steubenville, which is a pretty village in Ohio, we pass on by Charleston in Virginia, to Wheeling, in the same state.

This latter place, which the editor of the Pittsburg Gazette, calls "the little town at the foot of the hill," most truly deserves the pleasant appellation he has given to it; and I no sooner saw it, than I subscribed to the correctness of his coup d'œil. The hill