262 WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 



faloes. It is an enclianting journey from Albany 

 to Schenectady, and from thence to Lake Erie. 

 The situation of the city of Utica is particularly 

 attractive; the Mohawk running close by it, the 

 fertile fields and woody mountains, and the falls 

 of Trenton, forcibly press the stranger to stop a 

 day or two here before he proceeds onward to 

 the lake. 



At some far-distant period, when it will not 

 be possible to find the place where many of the 

 celebrated cities of the East once stood, the world 

 will have to thank the United States of America 

 for bringing their names into the western regions. 

 It is, indeed, a pretty thought of these people to 

 give to their rising towns the names of places so 

 famous and conspicuous in former times. 



As I was sitting one evening under an oak, in 

 the high grounds behind Utica, I could not look 

 down upon the city without thinking of Cato and 

 his misfortunes. Had the town been called Crof- 

 ton, or Warmfield, or Dewsbury, there would have 

 been nothing remarkable in it; but Utica at once 

 revived the scenes at school long past and half for- 

 gotten, and carried me with full speed back again 

 to Italy, and from thence to Africa. I crossed the 

 Rubicon with Caesar; fought at Pharsalia; saw 

 poor Pompey into Larissa, and tried to wrest the 

 fatal sword from Cato's hand in Utica. Wien I 

 perceived he was no more, I mourned over the 

 noble-minded man who took that part which he 

 thought would most benefit his country. There 

 is something magnificent in the idea of a man 

 taking by choice the conquered side. The Roman 

 gods themselves did otherwise. 



