LIFE OF WILSON. cxliii 



ney, I am obliged to omit much that would amuse and interest 

 you; but my present situation, a noisy tavern, crowded in eve- 

 ry corner, even in the room where I write, with the sons of 

 riot and dissipation, prevents me from enlarging on particulars. 

 I could also have wished to give you some account of this place, 

 and of the celebrated Mississippi, of which you have heard so 

 much. On these subjects, however, I can at present only of- 

 fer you the following slight sketch, taken the morning after my 

 arrival here. 



" The best view of this place and surrounding scenery, is 

 from the old Spanish fort on the south side of the town, about 

 a quarter of a mile distant. From this high point, looking up 

 the river, Natchez lies on your right, a mingled group of green 

 trees, and white and red houses, occupying an uneven plain, 

 much washed into ravines, rising as it recedes from the bluff 

 or high precipitous bank of the river. There is, however, 

 neither steeple, cupola, nor distinguished object to add interest 

 to its appearance. The country beyond it to the right is thrown 

 up into the same irregular knolls; and at the distance of a mile, 

 in the same direction, you have a peep of some cultivated farms, 

 bounded by the general forest. On your left you look down, 

 at a depth of two or three hundred feet, on the river, winding 

 majestically to the south; the intermediate space exhibiting wild 

 perpendicular precipices of brown earth. This part of the ri- 

 ver and shore is the general rendezvous of all the arks or Ken- 

 tucky boats, several hundreds of which are at present lying 

 moored there, loaded with the produce of the thousand shores 

 of this noble river. The busy multitudes below present a per- 

 petually varying picture of industry; and the noise and uproar, 

 softened by the distance, with the continual crowing of the 

 poultry with which many of these arks are filled, produce 

 cheerful and exhilirating ideas. The majestic Mississippi, 

 swelled by his ten thousand tributary streams, of a pale brown 

 colour, half a mile wide, and spotted with trunks of trees, that 

 show the different threads of the current and its numerous ed- 

 dies, bears his depth of water past in silent grandeur. Seven 



