174 MEMOIR OF DR. HARVEY. 



but does not always meet. The sermon was a brief exhortation 

 without a text, on the last question in the Church Catechism, 

 delivered in plain, simple, and earnest language. The church 

 is a pretty little Gothic structure, built in very good taste, and 

 situated close outside the park wall ; both it and the parsonage 

 embowered in trees. 



Early in September, Dr. Harvey left Hyde Park to visit the 

 Falls of Niagara. Writing from Troy, he again expresses his 

 admiration of the Hudson. " Having now," he says, " traversed 

 it for 152 miles, 145 of which it is navigable for large vessels, 

 I pronounce it the noblest stream for picturesque and unin- 

 terrupted beauty, without any sameness, that I have ever seen. 

 The three days of my route have had three separate characters, 

 and had I made the transit in ten days instead of three, each 

 would have had its own feature. Almost all the trees are still 

 in their summer green, but here and there a maple anion g the 

 green oaks stands out in clear pinky crimsons and carnations, 

 with colours as vivid as those of Berlin wool. How glorious it 

 will be in a fortnight or three weeks when I hope to be return- 

 ing down the river." 



" Troy," he proceeds, " is a large, well-built, and apparently 

 thriving town. One of the first signs we saw was Priam's stores. 

 In my evening walk I saw three large, well-filled, well-selected 

 booksellers' shops — better than Limerick would furnish. I 

 bought Lyell's new travels to read on the road. The Yankees 

 are great readers. The city is beautifully situated on the 

 Hudson, with Mount Ida and Mount Olympus rising immediately 

 behind it. Troy is a great place for iron-casting, and there are 

 numerous large furnaces and smoking chimneys. 



"September 13th. I rose at five this morning and started for 

 a walk to the summit of Mount Ida. Passing through a field 

 where was a woman milking a cow, I asked her, was this Mount 

 Ida ? No, this was not. Which was it then ? She was going to 

 point, and then begged my pardon, and said she thought it was 

 Mount 'Limpus I wanted. I said " No, Mount Ida ;" whereon she 

 pointed to a slightly higher hill, on which was a small house 

 with Attic portico — a favourite embellishment in these parts. 

 There was no view after all, dense mist rising from the country 

 on the one side, and dense smoke on the other. Boots at the 

 hotel is an Irishman from Mullingar, and we fraternised in 



