1816.} Alexander Wilson. 837 
mean to be m town chief part of the time. Iam most earnestly 
bent on pursuing my plan of making a collection of all the birds in 
this part of North America. Now I don’t want you to throw cold 
water, as Shakspeare says, on this notion, quixotic as it may 
appear. I have been so long accustomed to the building of airy 
castles and brain windmills, that it has become one of my earthly 
comforts, asort of a rough bone, that amuses me when sated with 
the dull drudgery of life.” 
In the month of October, 1804, Mr. Wilson, accompanied by 
two of his friends, set out on a pedestrian journey to visit the far- 
famed Cataract of Niagara, whereof he had heard much, but which 
he never before had an opportunity of beholding. The magnificent 
scenery of that beautiful river, as might be expected, filled’ the 
bosom of our poet with the most rapturous emotions. He gazed 
upon the cataract with an enthusiasm bordering upon distraction ; 
and ever after declared that no language was sufficiently compre- 
hensive to convey an adequate idea of that wonderful curiosity. 
_ It is possible, -by the force of description of a work of art, or 
eommon scene of nature, to raise the fancy to such a degree that 
the reality comes short of expectation. But of the Falls of Niagara 
it may with truth be observed that the utmost stretch of the ima- 
gination falls infinitely short of portraying the terrific sublimity of 
the mighty torrent. 
On the return of Mr. Wilson he employed his leisure moments 
in writing a poetical narrative of the journey. This poem, which 
abounds with interesting description and pleasing imagery, is en- 
titled The Forresters, and was gratuitously tendered to the pro- 
prietors of the Port Folio, and published in that excellent mis- 
cellany. 
This expedition was undertaken rather too late in the season, and 
consequently our travellers were subjected to hardships of which 
they were not aware. Winter overtook them whilst in the Gennesee 
country, on their return by the way of Albany; and they were 
compelled to trudge the greater part of the route through snow 
mid-leg deep. Perhaps it may gratify the readers of the poem, 
which closes at the Falls of Niagara, to be informed, that of the 
colleagues of the author, one tarried amongst his friends on the 
Cayuga lake, and the other gave out, and took the benefit of a more 
agreeable mode of travelling. | But the hardy Wilson’s pride would 
not permit him to be overcome by fatigue or difficulties. He man- 
fully kept the road, refusing to be relieved even of his gan and 
baggage ; and arrived at his home the 7th of Dec., having been 
absent 59 days, and traversed in that time upwards of 1,200 miles. 
The last day he walked 47 miles. 
. The following letter to Mr. Bartram, illustrative of his views and 
$eelings at this juncture, is interesting in a great degree :— 
“ Gray’s Ferry, Dec. 15, 1804. 
** Though now snugly at home, looking back in recollection on 
6 
