random productions smack too much of the personal, our simple apology is that the general groundwork of such articles has been so completely covered, that to be at all original, one's observations must be principally confined to his own personal experience. Trusting then, in all confidence, to the indulgent charity of our readers, we will to our wanderings.

It was on the memorable twenty-first of July, 1851, that we left our home, by morning moonlight, for the far-distant shores of the Old World, still suffering under the ravages of a Southern fever, but buoyant with hope and busy with reflections on the changes which might occur in the circle of home and friends ere our return. The passion of our life was about to be gratified, the roving visions of our early boyhood tried by veritable reality, and the rattle of the stage-coach was as music in our ears.

It is needless to relate how from the "home of our boyhood" the stage-coach bore us to the banks of the Ohio; how from the fair city of Louisville we went gliding up the Ohio, whose lovely waters have so richly merited and received the appellation of "La Belle Riviere;" how from the "Queen City of the West" we took the cars for Cleveland, and went bounding away through the "Buckeye State" -the land of "bread and cheese"-a flat and monotonous route, utterly void of any interesting scenery. But rapidly trees, houses and farms flit by us, and ere the sun had sunk behind the western

hills, we were safely deposited in Cleveland city. Making a resolute push through the vociferous army of hackmen and porters that dogged our steps, we marched immediately aboard the splendid steamer that was then in waiting for our train, and soon we were dancing over the blue bosom of Lake Erie. On our right sat queenly Cleveland, looking out upon the broad waters, while the white sails of many vessels on our left, glimmered in the golden rays of the west-going sun as he slowly dipped to the distant wave.-'Twas forsooth a scene for painter's pencil or poet's verse as first we witnessed sunset on the waters. But night soon vails the land and wave, while music, the song and the deck promenade serve to wing the golden hours.

Early on the following morning, we landed at the flourishing city of Buffalo, and at nine o'clock, A. M., of the same morning, took the swift-footed cars for the falls of Niagara, those wondrous waters whose fame "hath gone forth into other lands," and whose very name is the poetry of might, majesty and beauty. Any attempt at description would be but impotent and vain. Suffice it to say that we had a merry romp over "Main Island" with several fair ladies from the "city of rocks," among the number, Mrs. James Bankhead, and Miss Jennie Watson, whose witching smiles shed sunlight on the scene, and lent the finishing touch to the beauty of the whole; that we ascended "Prospect Tower," overlooking the chasm of the "Horse-Shoe," and

looked down upon the roaring waters below; that we crossed over to the Canada side by the "Suspension Bridge," and from the dizzy height of this fairy work, gazed down on the rushing river far beneath us; that we stood upon the giddy brink of "Table Rock," and saw the snow-white rapids come racing on, to plunge with the roar of thunder to the misty caldron at our feet, while beauteous Iris spanned the boiling chaos, hovering like some angel of mercy over the region of the damned.

But our mission was still far in the distance; so bidding a reluctant adieu to the glories of Niagara, we pursued our way toward the eastern limits of our native land. Our iron steed is once more harnessed, his shrill snort heard, and tossing high his dark mane of smoke, he dashes onward, passing through as lovely a country as eye could wish to rest upon. Well may the "Empire State" lift up her head, proud of her flourishing cities, and their teeming thousands, her noble rivers and her lovely lakes, her goodly hills and her fertile valleys. We viewed, with delighted eye, her many treasures, and felt a proud satisfaction that it was our own land we looked upon. One day sufficed to bring us from Buffalo to Albany, whence we took the steamer down the Hudson, wanting only the ornamental villas and the crumbling, vine-clad castles of the Rhine, to render it the most beautiful river in the world. Reached New York in due time, and after devoting several days to the city, we made preparation for sailing.

CHAPTER II.

IT were hard to describe the contending emotions that now swelled the heart, as we trod the deck of a noble vessel, bound direct for foreign shores. The moment was rapidly drawing on, when we should bid adieu to the land of our birth, and have the face of nature shut out from our view, until our eyes should open on the olden world. The good ship "Asia" was crowded with passengers, and a great number had come to witness the departure of relatives and friends, while many a thoughtful, anxious face, and many a moistened eye, told how the floodgates of the heart were unlocked, and its deep fountains stirred at the thought that they were parting, and perhaps forever. But for us no eye was dimmed, no loved voice trembled in the fond farewell! for we were alone, without a friend, an acquaintance, or one familiar face, with whom we could claim an adieu.

Precisely at 12 o'clock, M., the last warning-bell is rung, our cables slipped, and as the brave ship moves out; her booming cannon shout a parting salute to the shores of our native land. Again and again, as we glide on, her guns are loaded, and as

the active sailor rams home the charge, again the loud report reverberates along the coast, and echoes over the bay. Rapidly we cleave the still, calm water, while our officers, in their handsome uniforms of blue, stand upon the gangways, and issue with trumpet-voice their many orders, to which is readily returned the hearty "aye, aye, sir!" Still swiftly glides onward our mammoth ship, passing by Governor's island, the Battery, the Fort, Staten Island, and other objects of interest, and erelong we are out upon the mighty deep, with the dim shores of Long Island trailing on our left, and the coast we had so lately quitted growing more and more indistinct. shades of night came creeping on, the day-king had sought his western couch, and as the last, faint outline of our native shores faded slowly away through the increasing gloom, we gave over our lingering gaze, and turning to our cabin sighed—

"My native land, good night!”

The

On the following morning we rose refreshed with sleep, and though the vessel was rocking slightly, we experienced no difficulty in making our simple toilet, nor felt as yet that wretched, deathly sensation, usually denominated, sea-sickness. But we were not destined to escape entirely the ills that the fresh mariner is heir to; so just conceive a woe-begone youth, most dejectedly seated on a four-legged stool, with his forlorn phiz buried in his hands, and whew! heaving like old Vesuvius, while a few old salts fill up the background, making merry over our misfor