24 LETTERS FROM THE BACKWOODS. 



below, sprinkle all these lakes around, and fill these 

 vast solitudes with life ? Subdued and solemn, the 

 soul whispers the reply to its own inquiries, and in- 

 voluntarily renders homage to the Infinite One. 



But all scenes must end, and we prepared to de- 

 part. As I came to the brow of a rock and looked 

 off, I heard a shout below, and there, toiling painfully 

 up, I saw a friend, a young clergyman, who had pro- 

 mised to meet me at Adirondac, but did not arrive till 

 after we left. He was dripping with perspiration ; and 

 I took my green blanket, and folding him also in it, 

 walked back over the summit, to give him the view I 

 had been gazing on for an hour. The freezing blast 

 swept with piercing power over us ; but, though my 

 teeth were chattering with cold, I enjoyed the mute 

 surprise and awe of my friend as he stood and gazed 

 around him. 



At length, approaching night warned us to depart, 

 for we had yet to build us a hut to sleep in, and get 

 our supper before dark, and so we bade the lordly 

 summit good bye, and clattered furiously down its 

 sides. 



