one house that there were few or no wells between these places. That family used water from a creek that was then low and stagnant, and the water of a green tinge. Yet the inhabitants seemed to have a good share of hospitality, and were obliging and civil, and contented with their situation. For the pleasure of being thus crowded and roasted for this 18 miles, we only paid $2 as stage fare. Being so long delayed, we did not get to St. Johns until after the dinner hour, and as the steam boat was waiting for us, we were obliged to snatch what we could from a table where others had dined, and hurry off to the boat. We had not therefore any opportunity to look around us in St. Johns, enough to describe it any farther than first impressions so hastily made and faintly recollected will allow. It is situated at the outlet of Lake Champlain, on the west side of the river Sorelle. By means of the water communication it enjoys with the U. States by the lake, there is considerable business done here. But the local situation of the place is any thing but pleasant. The country around is the same dead lev el as between this and the St. Lawrence, nor are there any elegant houses or fine public buildings to enliven the dull scene. The village covers a considerable extent of ground, and the houses are of the true Canadian stamp. Had we come to this place from the United States, we might probably have seen a variety of things to interest and amuse us, but as it was, we were much more anxious to secure a passage in the boat than to stay and hunt up the picturesque in such a place.

We had been in the Provinces for three or four weeks, during which time amidst a foreign language, strange forms and faces, his Majesty's red coated soldiers, and his red cross'd flag, we felt that we were among foreigners, among men who were not Americans in the sense in which that word is there used, and it was with no small delight that we first saw the flag of our country on the steam boat "Congress." We thought how triumphantly it had waved on the bosom of that lake, when the gallant McDonough bore it on to victory. It seemed like the genius of our country, guarding her sons in a foreign land, and protecting their rights and property, and if we ever felt a pride of country, it was in pursuing the train of associations which were then awaked.

The very vessel upon which it was borne was a proud monument of the triumph of American genius, holding as she did her destined course through the waters, regardless of their currents, or the impotent resistence of the winds. It was with these feelings-of

self complacency that we entered the boat and were happy to find no occasion for disappointment or chagrin.

Lake Champlain had much the appearance of a river for many miles from St. Johns, as it is quite narrow, and has nothing to remind one of its being a lake but its name. The banks upon either side appear to be as low, or lower, than the surface of the lake, and entirely destitute of cultivation. The passage for many miles was extremely destitute of interesting objects. The first one we saw was Isle au Noix, about one mile in extent, upon which there are extensive fortifications. The channel here is narrow, and the boat passed very near the Island. It appeared to be of the same flat surface as the neighboring country. The barrack was a very handsome building, facing the channel through which we passed, hav-! ing in front a fine parade ground, and on either side the buildings usually attached to a military post. We saw the decaying vessels which were prepared, or in process of preparation, about the close of the late war, to regain, if possible, the ascendancy of the lake. The number appeared to have been very considerable, and from those of large size to the gun boat. But the sheds under which many of them were placed were, like the vessels, fast decaying, and new treasures must be expended before the thunder of artillery can again wake the echo of war along the peaceful shores of Champlain. There appeared to be but few soldiers upon the island, and those were either lounging in the barrack yard or sitting on the little piers by the lake, catching fish, or asleep. The government, no doubt, esteem this as an important post, as it completely commands the channel of the lake, and the passage into Canada from the United States. They were erecting new fortifications upon the south end of the island, and it had the appearance of very considerable strength. The Captain of the Congress sent his boat ashore here, a ceremony, we understand, which he always has to go through. We passed, towards evening, Rouse's point, upon which the U. States began an extensive military work, but upon establishing the line it was found to be within the Province of Canada, and consequently abandoned by our government. Nothing has been done to it since. The part upon which any considerable work had been done seemed to be an octagonal tower of hewn stone, raised to the height of perhaps 25 or 30 feet. It is so situated as completely to command the passage of the lake, here quite narrow, and, standing upon a little peninsula, must be difficult of approach upon the land side. It was an interesting object standing alone in the grey of the

evening, the only object around upon which the hand of man appeared to have exerted its power, and that deserted and abandoned and going to decay under the influence of the climate, and the insufficiency of its foundation, having been built upon marshy land.

The line separating the United States from Canada passes a few rods south of this tower, and it was with great satisfaction that we felt ourselves breathing American air. We had, it is true, been most hospitably treated under bis Majesty's government, and while others sung "God save the King," they did not compel us to respond to it. We had thought and said just what we pleased, but after all, there is a feeling of attachment to our homes, and next to that to our country, which cannot be overcome; and wretched must be the exile even amidst the splendor of courts, who feels that his exile is involuntary, and who sighs for the green fields of his country.

7

We took our supper on the American side of the line, and we found every thing to our heart's and stomach's content. We had seen all the cabin passengers singly by themselves, but we now found them all seated at one table, and were again amused at the group around us. On our right was a lady who had never before left Montreal, and next to her a lady who had once before been in the United States, and consequently knew every thing about the country. It happened that we had several dishes of black-berries served up with sugar upon the table, and the first lady was quite curious to know what berries they were; 'why, they are whortleberries, to be sure,' answered the second, but she found herself most unhesitatingly corrected by a lady from one of our cities, who assured her they were mulberries. On our left was Mr. B. one of the Aldermen of the city of ―, who had sat all the afternoon on the sunny side of the deck asleep. His face was the most rubicund imaginable. It had, however, rather the tinge of Cherry rum, and his form was that of a beer barrel. He hardly seemed satisfied with his supper, though he did ample justice to it, while he most rapturously descanted to a little pale looking man opposite upon the delicious fish he should have when he arrived to New York.

Having drank enough river water the day before in Montreal to derange our digestive system, and too much to put it in requisition at this time, we quitted the table before his eulogy was through, and before we had particularly marked any but our immediate neighbors.

Soon after passing the line, the American custom house officer,

who happened to be a fellow passenger, politely enquired whether we had any contraband goods in our trunks, and upon our assuring him we had not, and opening several of them, and exhibiting a goodly quantity of soiled linen and dirty stockings, he left us and we pursued our way.

The first town we passed in sight of, on the New York side of the line, was Champlain. It appeared to have a considerable number of houses, mostly unpainted, but it was so dark we could distinguish them but faintly. The shores here were more elevated, and become in some places quite abrupt.

Darkness soon closed upon the surrounding scenery, and as there was no moon to keep our fancy or imagination awake, while its long line of light danced over the rippling waves of the lake, and we were moreover sick, tired, and sleepy, so far as our corporeal system was concerned, we retired early to our crib by the side of the cabin, and were soon lulled to sleep by the incessant dash of the water against the part of the boat where was our birth, the rumbling sound of the machinery, and the whizzing of the steam as it escaped from the boiler. How long we slept, or how far, we cannot tell, but we were awakened by the preparations which were making to land at Plattsburg. Having a strong inclination to see this place, we "turned out," but were unable to gratify our curiosity. A long line of white buildings indistinctly seen were pointed out as the barracks of the United States soldiers, the last detachment of which had recently left them. This was all that we could discern of the town or the country around it. The moon had just risen, but was of that red color it sometimes wears when its light faintly struggles through the blue mists along the horizon. But we saw or thought we saw, some of the Islands near which McDonough's little fleet gained for their country the command of that important lake, and for their commander and themselves a deathless fame. That event is too closely interwoven with the history of our country for any one to pass the scene of its accomplishment without a glow of enthusiasm, or without paying a tribute of admiration to the memory of him who forgot not the feelings and sympathies of the man in the glory and applause of the hero. After indulging in the train of reflections awakened by a recollection of the events that had transpired here, and enquiring of a civil fellow passenger the spots most memorable in that transaction, and straining our eyes to catch even a slight glimpse of the shadowy forms of the objects he pointed out to us, we again sought our birth and again went through the process of

shutting our eyes, listening to the dashing of the water, the rumbling of the wheels, and new anti-somnolary sounds, the various styles of snoring adopted by our companions, from the deep bull frog snore to the gurgling rattle in the throat, like the emptying a jug of its contents, and at last went to sleep."

We were again awakened by the steward, who took it into his head that we were to stop at Burlington, and came to tell us that we were just there. After our most solemn assurance that we should not stop, he left us to our slumbers again. We found it would be in vain to attempt to see any thing if we were out of bed, and therefore had to take the word of the Captain that we did in fact pass that town at all. We had roused enough to look at a little landing place called Port Kent, on the New York side of the lake, and could only see three or four new white houses, and what affected us more, the departure of a pretty fellow passenger who had brought home with her a new Piano from Montreal, and has no doubt e'er this played "home, sweet home" upon it to some one who has paid her for the tune by sharing his own home with her.

SELECTED.

TO THE IVY.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

On! how could fancy crown with thee
In ancient days, the God of wine,
And bid thee at the banquet be

Companion of the vine?

Thy home, wild plant, is where each sound
Of revelry hath long been o'er,

Where song's full notes once peal'd around,
But now are heard no more.

The Roman, on his battle plains,

Where Kings before his Eagles bent,
Entwin'd thee, with exulting strains,

Around the Victor's tent;

Yet there, though fresh in glossy green,

Triumphantly thy boughs might wave,
Better thou lov'st the silent scene,
Around the Victor's grave.

Where sleep the sons of ages flown,

The bards and heroes of the past-
Where, through the halls of glory gone,
Murmurs the wintry blast!

Where years are hastening to efface

Each record of the grand and fair,

W.