FOURTH JOURNEY. 217 



corn-fields, villages, and pastures are ever and anon 

 bursting upon the traveller's view as he journeys on 

 through the remaining tracts of wood. I wish I could 

 say a word or two for the fine timber which is yet 

 standing. Spare it, gentle inhabitants, for your country's 

 sake ; these noble sons of the forest beautify your land- 

 scapes beyond all description ; when they are gone, a 

 century will not replace their loss ; they cannot, they 

 must not fall ; their vernal bloom, their summer rich- 

 ness, and autumnal tints, please and refresh the eye 

 of man ; and even when the days of joy and warmth 

 are fled, the wintry blast soothes the listening ear with 

 a sublime and pleasing melancholy as it howls through 

 their naked branches. 



" Around me trees unnumber'd rise, 

 Beautiful in various dyes : 

 The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, 

 The yellow beech, the sable yew ; 

 The slender tir, that taper grows, 

 The sturdy oak, with broad-spread boughs." 



A few miles before you reach Buffalo, the road is low 

 and bad, and, in stepping out of the stage, I sprained 

 my foot very severely ; it swelled to a great size, and 

 caused me many a day of pain and mortification, as 

 will be seen in the sequel. 



Buffalo looks down on Lake Erie, and 

 possesses a fine and commodious inn. At a 

 little distance is the Black Rock, and there you pass 

 over to the Canada side. A stage is in waiting to convey 

 you some sixteen or twenty miles down to the Falls. 

 Long before you reach the spot you hear the mighty 

 roar of waters, and see the spray of the far-famed Falls 

 of Niagara, rising up like a column to the heavens, and 

 mingling with the passing clouds. 



