told me at the time, it was a noble object, and well might the government afford to quadruple the sum, but he thought it best to name ten thousand, because he presumed there would be no objection to that, when, if the object was promoted by it, there could be no difficulty in having the amount increased. This was in 1819. Nobody, who pretends to any knowledge of the progress that is making by about 1200 Indian children, by means of these ten thousand dollars, will deny that advantages the most unexampled have been realized; and those who know most of the matter, regret that the sum is not increased, because this work of improvement languishes for lack of means.

Soon after entering the highlands, and on your left, are the remains of Forts Clinton and Montgomery. These forts, you know, were the objects of attack of Sir Henry Clinton, who, desirous of relieving Gen. Burgoyne, when held somewhat uncomfortably by Gen. Gates, at Saratoga, or in its neighbourhood, marched in October, 1777, with 4000 men, to call off Gates' attention from Burgoyne, and thereby give the latter an opportunity to escape. This expedition was landed at Verplank's point, and a part of it pushed forward and across to Stony point, and thence on to Forts Clinton and Montgomery. General Putnam mistaking the object of Sir Henry, and supposing it to be an attack on Fort Independence, put himself, by crossing the river, in readiness to meet him there; for Putnam, you know, was not the man to avoid a place where he supposed fighting was to be done. He was not undeceived until the guns at Forts Montgomery and Clinton announced the brunt of the action to be there. The contest raged at these points from five P. M. till night. Our late venerable vice-president, George Clinton, was there. His spirit rode in the whirlwind of that battle. Our side lost, in that action, near 250 men, besides the forts; the garrisons, however, as at Fort Lee, made their escape. Thence the British moved upon West point, took the chain from across the river, that had been put there to prevent the passage of their ships, burned the place, and halted-for Burgoyne hav

ing surrendered, of which the British general received intelligence, all further movements in that direction were abandoned-the object for which they were undertaken no longer existing.

You see, my dear ***, I venture boldly upon the history of those times; do not rely implicitly upon my statements, especially as to dates, but in any event in which a more veritable sketch may be needed, and where dates may be concerned, consult Marshall.

Nearly opposite Fort Montgomery, and on the right, is Anthony's nose, of reasonable length enough, it being nearly one thousand feet long, or, in other words, the mountain projection which juts out into the river, at that place, and compels it, as it is often forced to do among the highlands, to make a circuit, is 935 feet high; and although not sufficiently perpendicular to have given the nose a Grecian, it is enough so to fashion it after the Roman form. But after all, it was a queer fancy that ever saw any thing like a nose in the outline of this mountain, at least from any one of the points of my approach to it. You remember the reason assigned by Knickerbocker why this name was given to this mountain bluff? It was, I believe, that the famous trumpeter, Van Conlear, (Anthony being his christian name, and by which, doubtless, he was familiarly called,) received upon his remarkable nose the first beam of a morning sun, which, on striking it, and meeting with a resistance not customary in such greetings, glanced down over the edge of the boat in which Anthony chanced to be, into the water, and killed an enormous sturgeon! If I recollect right, this story is inserted by that veritable historian with unusual gravity, and many assurances are given of its truth. From that time, he tells us, the promontory has been called "Anthony's Nose." It is a prodigious mountain, by the base of which the boats go. It makes one dizzy to look up at it from below, and doubtless thrice dizzy, those who look down from its summit upon the river and the world beneath.

We read of many interesting things in this neighbourhood, such as the bloody pond, behind Fort Clinton, into which it is said the bodies of the slain were thrown on the memorable day of the fight there; and distant views from those towering elevations which open to the eye of the traveller new worlds beyond;-but I saw none of these, and therefore have nothing to say about them.

Upon your left, and high up, and sometimes among the clouds, are seen the scite and the ruins of Fort Putnam. These lie nearly six hundred feet above the level of the water. I wished much to clamber up to these, and play Volney, though not all the part he played. I felt more than I have language to convey to you. I thought of the period that of our revolution-of the toil expended in erecting this fort-of the dangers which menaced it-of the privations of those noble fellows who had their stations there of the old General whose name it bears-of his wolf's den adventure-his horse-neck gallop-and then of the roar of artillery that had resounded through those hills, and echoed in their caverns-of the evacuation of the fort, and the capture and conflagration of West point, which lies just below it-of Kosciusco and his garden—and then, and with intense interest, and a glow of rapture, of the suddenly reflected scenery in the hour of gloom, and when West point was smoking in ruins-from the victory so opportunely won at Saratoga. It is easy to imagine the agitations which attended upon the retrograde movement of the enemy, and the feelings that oppressed his so recently triumphant army, when the news came that Burgoyne was captured. Portentous days! All, however, gone by. Even the agitations are stilled, and scarce a ripple is to be seen to disturb the calm that rests upon the surface of those events. Those ruins too-time is busy with them. Mutilated fragments, it is easy to discern, lie scattered around the parts of the walls. that yet remain upright, and serve to confirm even now the truth of this sentiment:

"The deep foundations that we lay,

Time ploughs them up, and not a trace remains.
We build with what we deem eternal rock;
A distant age asks where the fabric stood;

And in the dust, sifted and searched in vain,

The undiscoverable secret sleeps."

In distant periods of time, posterity, doubtless, will climb this height, and by the lights of history, seek among the rocks for some of the remains of Fort Putnam; and although these may be found, they will be unsatisfying, for no certainty will be arrived at, that they formed any part of the defences of the war of the revolution, at this spot.

Of West point I shall say nothing, because I cannot. The buildings and all the beauty which is attributed to the plain on which they stand, are too high to be seen, except partially, from the river, and I had not time to land. The period

was interesting too, as the examination of the cadets was about to commence, and I was tempted, strongly, to go ashore. But my hours were precious, and I had to forego the gratification of a call. I must, if I can, be at Detroit by the 16th. West point is a proud monument. It has its foundations in the confederacy; and every state is deeply interested in cherishing it. I look upon it as one of our most splendid appendages; and our eyes are never turned towards it but they are greeted with the moral grandeur that invests it. I believe this is felt every where, and in every section of our beloved country; and yet it costs only about $100,000 annually, to sustain it! On turning West point, and immediately in front, and some ten miles distant, Newburg is seen (on the left of the river) through the highlands, and this view is perhaps the most beautiful of any on the whole route. On arriving opposite this very handsome town, which graces a slope of a mountain, I was surprised at its extent, and no less at its fine appearance. Poughkeepsie is on the right, and some fifteen miles beyond Newburg. This place is made up of clusters of little villages, rather than of one compact and well built town.

It was here that night closed in upon me, and I could see no more. Neither the Pine Orchard, the Round Top, nor the Catskill mountains, except a distant view before night-fall; nor, indeed, any thing else, 'till awaking this morning I found myself in the overslaugh, a little, narrow, difficult part of the river, four miles from this place, where several sloops were holding on by their anchors, waiting a fair wind to pass down. I believe it sometimes happens that there is not water enough here for the steam boats to pass; and that a landing is made, and a ride taken to the town in stages. however, came through, bag and baggage.

We,

I would, if I dare, attempt some description of the highlands, and of the Hudson, winding its way around the bases of the mountains that project into it at so many points. I would delight, if I could, in making you see these broken up mountains, these towering heights, that stretch away off into the sky; and the crooked and pent up river in which their bases rest; but that is not possible. You need never expect to comprehend any thing in relation to the highlands. until you see them. The distance through them is about sixteen miles, and there is not an inch of the way in which the mind can disengage itself from the surprising grandeur, or break the spell of a most enchanting sublimity which the scenery fastens upon it.

I am in Albany, it is true, but have not a moment to say one word about it. I must snatch an hour for what I may have to say of this ancient city, at Schenectady.

It has just occurred to me whether you have been able to decypher my letters? I have my doubts about it. It is possible, should there be any parts so completely un-Gunter in all that relates to the formation of letters and words, that I may aid you in making them out on my return-but this is only possible. Ever yours.