10. New England is bounded north by Lower Canada, east by the British province of New Brunswick and the Atlantic ocean, south by the same ocean, and Long Island sound, and west by the state of New York. Its west line begins at the mouth of Byram river, which empties into Long Island sound, at the south west corner of Connecticut, north latitude 410, and runs a little to the east of north, till it strikes the 45th degree of latitude; it then curves to the north east along the highlands, till it reaches about the 48th degree of north latitude.

Note. The Baltic is a large sea, between Denmark and Sweden, to the west, and Germany, Poland, and Russia to the east, from which run the gulfs of Bothnia, Finland, Riga and Dantzic. It is said this sea neither ebbs nor flows. The Adriatic sea, or gulf of Venice, lies between Italy and a part of Turkey in Europe. Cape Cod is a peninsula 65 miles long and from 1 to 20 broad. It is the southernmost point of Massachusetts Bay.

ROCK BRIDGE IN VIRGINIA.

1. ON a lovely morning, towards the close of spring, I found myself in a very beautiful part of the Great Valley of Virginia. Spurred on by impatience, I beheld the sun rising in splendor, and changing the blue tints on the tops of the lofty Alleghany mountains, into streaks of the purest gold, nature seemed to smile in the freshness of beauty. A ride of about fifteen miles, and a pleasant woodland ramble of about two, brought myself and companion to the Natural Bridge.

2. Although I had been anxiously looking forward to this time, and my mind had been considerably excited by expectation, yet I was not altogether prepared for this visit. This great work of nature is considered by many as the second great curiosity in our country, Niagara falls being the first. I do not expect to convey a very correct idea of this bridge, for no description can do this.

3. The Natural Bridge is entirely the work of God. It is of solid limestone, and connects two huge mountains together by a most beautiful arch, over which there is a

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great wagon road. Its length, from one mountain to the other, is nearly 80 feet, its width about 35, its thickness 45, and its perpendicular height over the water is not far from 220 feet. A few bushes grow on its top, by which the traveller may hold himself as he looks over.

4. On each side of the stream, and near the bridge, are rocks projecting ten or fifteen feet over the water, and from 200 to 300 feet from its surface, all of limestone. The visiter cannot give so good a description of this bridge, as he can of his feelings at the time. He softly creeps out on a shaggy projecting rock, and looking down a chasm of from 40 to 60 feet wide, he sees, nearly 300 feet below, a wild stream foaming and dashing against the rocks beneath, as if terrified at the rocks above.

5. This stream is called Cedar Creek. The visiter here sees trees under the arch, whose height is 70 feet; and yet, to look down upon them, they appear like small bushes of perhaps two or three feet in height. I saw several birds fly under the arch, and they looked like insects. I threw down a stone, and counted 34 before it reached the water. All hear of heights and of depths, but they here SEE what is high, and they tremble, and FEEL it to be Jeep.

6. The awful rocks present their everlasting butments, the water murmurs and foams far below, and the two moun tains rear their proud heads on each side, separated by a channel of sublimity. Those who view the sun, the moon, and the stars, and allow that none but GOD could make them, will here be impressed, that none but an Almighty God could have built a bridge like this.

7. The view of the bridge from below is as pleasing as the top view is awful. The arch from beneath would seem to be about two feet in thickness. Some idea of the distance from the top to the bottom may be formed, from the fact that as I stood on the bridge, and my companion beneath, neither of us could speak with sufficient loudness to be heard by the other. A man from either view does not appear more than four or five inches in height.

8. As we stood under this beautiful arch, we saw the place where visiters have often taken the pains to engrave their names upon the rock. Here Washington climbed up 25 feet and carved his own name, where it still remains. Some, wishing to immortalize their names, have engraven

them deep and large, while others have tried to climb up and insert them high in this book of fame. A few years since, a young man, being ambitious to place his name above all others, came very near losing his life in the attempt. After much fatigue, he climbed up as high as possible, but found that the person who had before occupied his place was taller than himself, and consequently had placed his name above his reach. But he was not thus to be discouraged.

9. He opens a large jack-knife, and in the soft limestone, began to cut places for his hands and feet. With much patience and industry he worked his way upwards, and succeeded in carving his name higher than the most ambitious had done before him. He could now triumph, but his triumph was short, for he was placed in such a situation that it was impossible to descend, unless he fell upon the ragged rocks beneath him. There was no house near, from whence his companions could get assistance. He could not long remain in that condition, and, what was worse, his friends were too much frightened to do any thing for his relief. They looked upon him as already dead, expecting every moment to see him precipitated upon the rocks below, and dashed to pieces.

10. Not so with himself. He determined to ascend. Accordingly he plies himself with his knife, cutting places for his hands and feet, and gradually ascended with great labour. He exerts every muscle. His life was at stake, and all the terrors of death rose before him. He dared not to look downwards, lest his head should become dizzy; and perhaps on this circumstance his life depended. His companions stood at the top of the rock, exhorting and encouraging him. His strength was almost exhausted; but a bare possibility remained of saving his life, and hope, the last friend of the distressed, had not yet forsaken him.

11. His course upwards was rather obliquely than perpendicularly. His most critical moment had now arrived. He had now ascended considerably more than 200 feet, and had still further to rise, when he felt himself fast growing weak. He thought of his friends and all his earthly joys, and he could not leave them. He thought of the grave, and he dared not meet it. He now made his last effort, and succeeded. He had cut his way not far from 250

feet from the water, in a course almost perpendicular; and in a little less than two hours, his anxious companions reached him a pole from the top and drew him up.

12. They received him with shouts of joy; but he himself was completely exhausted. He immediately fainted away on reaching the spot, and it was some time before he could be recovered! It was interesting to see the path up these awful rocks, and to follow in imagination this bold youth as he thus saved his life. His name stands far above all the rest, a monument of hardihood, of rashness, and of folly.

Note. The Alleghany Mountains are situated between the Mississippi river and the Atlantic Ocean; extending nearly parallel with the sea coast, 900 miles in length.— Niagara river forms the communication between Lakes Erie and Ontario, and runs from south to north about 30 miles. Eighteen miles north of the entrance of the river, the waters rush down a stupendous precipice of 140 feet.

THE ANDES IN SOUTH AMERICA.

1. AMONG the wonders, or uncommon phenomena of the world, may be classed stupendous mountains; and of these, the Andes in South America are the loftiest the most extensive, and, therefore, the most wonderful. Descriptions of objects which are striking, because they are vast, often fail of exciting appropriate ideas; and however accurate or poetical may be the accounts of this class of Nature's prodigies, no just notions of their vastness can be conveyed by any written or graphical representation.

2. The magnitude of an object must be seen to be duly conceived, and mountain wonders will be best felt by those who have visited Wales, Scotland, Switzerland, or the mountainous regions of America or Asia. The stupendous mountains, called by the Spaniards the Cordilleras, stretch north and south, near the western coast, from the Isthmus of Darien, through the whole of the continent of South America, to the Straits of Magellan. In the north there are three chains of separate ridges, but in advancing

from Popayan towards the south, the three chains unite in a single group, which is continued far beyond the equator.

3. In the kingdom of Quito, the more elevated summits of this group are ranged in two rows, which form a double crest to the Cordilleras. The extent of the Andes Mountains is not less than four thousand three hundred miles. In this country, the operations of nature appear to have been carried on on a large scale, and with a bolder hand, than elsewhere; and in consequence, the whole is distinguished by a peculiar magnificence. Even the plain of Quito, which may be considered as the base of the Andes, is more elevated above the sea than the summits of many European mountains.

4. In different places the Andes rise more than one third above the famous Peak of Teneriffe, the highest land in the ancient hemisphere. The cloud-enveloped summits, though exposed to the rays of the sun in the torrid zone, are covered with eternal snows, and below them the storm is seen to burst, and the exploring traveller hears the thunder roll, and sees the lightnings dart beneath his feet.

5. Throughout the whole of the range of these extensive mountains, as far as they have been explored, there is a certain boundary, above which the snow never melts, which boundary in the torrid zone, has been ascertained to be 14,600 feet or nearly three miles above the level of the South Sea. The ascent to the plain of Quito, on which stands Chimborazo, Cotopaxi, Pichincha, &c. is thus described by Don Juan de Ulloa.

6. "The ruggedness of the road from Taraguaga, leading up the mountain, is not easily described. The declivity is so great in some parts, that the mules can scarcely keep their footing; and in others the acclivity is equally difficult. This trouble of sending people before to mend the road, the pain arising from many falls and bruises, and the being constantly wet to the skin, might be supported; but these inconveniences are augmented by the sight of such frightful precipices, and deep abysses, as excite con

stant terror.

7. "The road, in some places, is so steep, and yet so narrow, that the mules are obliged to slide down, without making any use of their feet whatever. On one side of the rider, in this situation, rises an eminence of many hundred yards; and on the other is an abyss of equal depth; so