in his family, resolved himself to destroy the ferocious beast, lest she should escape through some unknown fissure of the rock. 7. His neighbors strongly remonstrated against the perilous enterprise; but he, knowing that wild animals were intimidated by fire, and having provided several strips of birch bark, the only combustible material which he could obtain, which would afford light in this deep and darksome cave, prepared for his descent. 8. Having accordingly divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and having a long rope fastened round his legs, by which he might be pulled back at a concerted signal, he entered, head foremost, with a blazing torch in his hand. 9. Having groped his passage till he came to a horizontal part of the den, the most terrifying darkness appeared in front of the dim circle of light afforded by his torch. It was silent as the house of death. None but monsters of the desert had ever before explored this solitary mansion of horror. 10. He cautiously proceeding onward came to an ascent, which he slowly mounted on his hands and knees, until he discovered the glaring eye balls of the wolf, which was sitting at the extremity of the cavern. Startled at the sight of fire, she gnashed her teeth, and gave a sullen growl. 11. As soon as he had made the necessary discovery, he kicked the rope, as a signal for pulling him out. The people at the mouth of the den, who had listened with painful anxiety, hearing the growling of the wolf, and supposing their friend to be in the most imminent danger, drew him forth with such celerity, that he was stripped of his clothes, and severely bruised. 12. After he had adjusted his clothes, and loaded his gun with nine buck-shot, holding a torch in one hand, and the musket in the other, he descended a second time. When he drew nearer than before, the wolf assuming a still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, snapping her teeth, and dropping her head between her legs, was evidently in the attitude and on the point of springing at him. 13. At this critical instant, he leveled and fired at her head. Stunned with the shock, and suffocated with the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave. But having refreshed himself, and permitted the smoke to dissipate, he went down the third time. 14. Once more he came within sight of the wolf, which appearing very passive, he applied the torch to her nose; and perceiving her dead, he took hold of her ears, and then kicking the rope (still tied round his legs) the people above, with no small exultation, dragged them both out together. CHAPTER XXVII. THE AGED PRISONER RELEASED FROM THE BASTILE. 1. No where else on earth, perhaps, has human misery, by human means, been rendered so lasting, so complete, or so remediless, as in that despotic prison, the bastile. This the following case may suffice to evince; the particulars of which are translated from that elegant and energetic writer, Mr. Mercier. 2. The hainous offense which merited an imprisonment surpassing torture, and rendering death a blessing, was no more than some unguarded expressions, implying disrespect towards the late Gallic monarch, Louis fifteenth. 3. Upon the accession of Louis sixteenth to the throne, the ministers then in office, moved by humanity, began their administration with an act of clemency and justice. They inspected the registers of the bastile, and set many prisoners at liberty. 4. Among those, there was an old man who had groaned in confinement for forty-seven years, between four thick and cold stone-walls. Hardened by adversity, which strengthens both the mind and constitution, when they are not overpowered by it, he had resisted the horrors of his long imprisonment, with an invincible and manly spirit. 5. His locks, white, thin, and scattered, had almost acquired the rigidity of iron; whilst his body, environed for so long a time by a coffin of stone, had borrowed from it a firm and compact habit. The narrow door of his tomb, turning upon its grating hinges, opened not as usual by halves, and an unknown voice announced his liberty, and bade him depart. 6. Believing this to be a dream, he hesitated; but at length rose up and walked forth with trembling steps, amazed at the space he traversed. The stairs of the prison, the halls, the court, seemed to him vast, immense, and almost without bounds. 7. He stopped from time to time, and gazed around like a bewildered traveler. His vision was with difficulty reconciled to the clear light of day. He contemplated the heavens as a new object. His eyes remained fixed, and he could not even weep. 8. Stupified with the newly acquired power of changing his position, his limbs, like his tongue, refused, in spite of his efforts, to perform their office. At length he got through the formidable gates. 9. When he felt the motion of the carriage which was prepared to transport him to his former habitation, he screamed out, and uttered some inarticulate sounds; and as he could not bear this new movement, he was obliged to descend. Support ed by a benovolent arm, he sought out the street where he had formerly resided: he found it, but no trace of his house remained; one of the public edifices occupied the spot where it had stood. 10. He now saw nothing which brought to his recollection either that particular quarter, the city itself, or the objects with which he was formerly acquainted. The houses of his nearest neighbors, which were fresh in his memory, had assumed a new appearance. 11. In vain were his looks directed to all the objects around him; he could discover nothing of which he had the smallest remembrance. Terrified, he stopped and fetched a deep sigh. To him, what did it import, that the city was peopled with living creatures? None of them were alive to him; he was unknown to all the world, and he knew nobody; and whilst he wept, he regretted his dungeon. 12. At the name of the bastile, which he often pronounced and even claimed as an asylum, and the sight of his clothes, which marked his former age, the crowd gathered around him; curiosity, blended with pity, excited their attention. The most aged asked him many questions, but had no remembrance of the circumstances which he recapitulated. 13. At length, accident brought to his way an ancient domestic, now a superannuated porter, who, confined to his lodge for fifteen years, had barely sufficient strength to open the gate. Even he did not know the master he had served; but informed him, that grief and misfortune had brought his wife to the grave thirty years before; that his children were gone abroad, to distant climes, and that of all his relations and friends, none now remained. 14. This recital was made with the indifference which people discover for events long past and almost forgotten. The miserable man groaned, and groaned alone. The crowd around, offering only unknown features to his view, made him feel the excess of his calamities, even more than he would have done in the dreadful solitude which he had left. 15. Overcome with sorrow, he presented himself before the minister, to whose humanity he owed that liberty which was now a burden to him. Bowing down, he said, "Restore me again to that prison from which you have taken me. I cannot survive the loss of my nearest relations; of my friends; and in one word, of a whole generation. Is it possible in the same moment to be informed of this universal destruction, and not to wish for death? 16. "This general mortality, which to others comes slowly, and by degrees, has to me been instantaneous,-the operation of Whilst secluded from society, I lived with myself a moment. only; but here I can neither live with myself, nor with this new race, to whom my anguish and despair appear only as a dream." 17. The minister was melted; he caused the old domestic to attend this unfortunate person, as only he could talk to him of his family. 18. This discourse was the single consolation which he received; for he shunned intercourse with the new race, born since he had been exiled from the world; and he passed his time, in the midst of Paris, in the same solitude as he had done whilst confined in a dungeon for almost half a century. 19. But the chagrin and mortification of meeting no person who could say to him, "We were formerly known to each other," soon put an end to his life. CHAPTER XXVIII. DESCRIPTION OF THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. 1. Among the many natural curiosities which this country affords, the cataract of Niagara is infinitely the greatest. In order to have a tolerable idea of this stupendous fall of water, it will be necessary to conceive that part of the country in which Lake Erie is situated, to be elevated above that which contains Lake Ontario, about three hundred feet. 2. The slope which separates the upper and lower country is generally very steep, and in many places almost perpendicular. It is formed by horizontal strata of stone, great part of which is what we commonly call lime-stone. The slope may be traced from the north side of Lake Ontario, near the bay of Toronto, round the west end of the lake; thence its direction is generally east, between Lake Ontario and Lake Erie; it crosses the strait of Niagara, and the Genesee river; after which it becomes lost in the country towards the Seneca Lake. 3. It is to this slope that our country is indebted, both for the cataract of Niagara, and the great falls of the Genesee. The cataract of Niagara, was formerly down at the northern side of the slope, near to that place which is now known by the name of the Landing; but from the great length of time, added to the great quantity of water, and distance which it falls, the solid stone is worn away, for about seven miles, up towards Lake Erie, and a chasm is formed, which no person can approach without horror. 4. Down this chasm, the water rushes with a most astonishing velocity, after it makes the great pitch. In going up the road near this chasm, the fancy is constantly engaged in the contemplation of the most romantic and awful prospects imaginable; until, at length, the eye catches the falls, the imagina tion is instantly arrested, and you admire în silence! The river is about one hundred and thirty-five rods wide, at the falls, and the perpendicular pitch, one hundred and fifty feet. 5. The fall of this vast body of water produces a sound which is frequently heard at the distance of twenty miles, and a sensible tremulous motion in the earth, for some rods round. A heavy fog, or cloud, is constantly ascending from the falls, in which rainbows may always be seen when the sun shines. 6. This fog, or spray, in the winter season, falls upon the neighboring trees, where it congeals, and produces a most beautiful crystaline appearance. This remark is equally applicable to the falls of the Genesee. 7. The difficulty which would attend leveling the rapids in the chasm, prevented my attempting it; but I conjecture the water must descend at least sixty-five feet. The perpendicular pitch at the cataract, is at least one hundred and fifty feet; to these add fifty-eight feet, which the water falls in the last halfmile, immediately above the falls, and we have two hundred and seventy-three feet, which the water falls in the distance of about seven miles and a half. 8. If either ducks or geese inadvertently alight in the rapids, above the great cataract, they are incapable of getting on the wing again, and are instantly hurried on to destruction. There is one appearance at this cataract, worthy of some attention, and which I do not remember to have seen noted by any writer. 9. Just below the great pitch, the water and foam may be seen puffed up in spherical figures, nearly as large as common cocks of hay; they burst at the top, and project a column of spray to a prodigious hight; they then subside, and are succeeded by others, which burst in like manner. This appearance is most conspicuous about half way between the isle that divides the falls, and the west side of the strait, where the largest column of water descends. CHAPTER XXIX. NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY OF MRS. HOWE, TAKEN BY THE INDIANS AT HINSDALE, NEW HAMP SHIRE, JULY 27, 1755. 1. As Messrs. Caleb Howe, Hilkiah Grout, and Benjamin Gaffield, who had been hoeing corn in the meadow, west of the river, were returning home, a little before sunset, to a place called Bridgman's Fort, they were fired upon by twelve Indians, who had ambushed their path. 2. Howe was on horseback, with two young lads, his children, behind him. A ball, which broke his thigh, brought him |