in fictitious writings. In no play or novel that I have read, was the quaker ever justly conceived or faithfully portrayed. He that is made to pass by that name in such books, is usually a very respectable and meritorious character, but has no resemblance to the true quakers, the quaker either of habit or of principle. The reason is plain. No one but a man educated a quaker can truly describe the sect, and no one hitherto, with such an education, has turned fabulist, or, at least, attempted to portray in his fable, one of this sect. L. I think, madam, it would be an excellent scheme to exhibit the true character of your friends. The theme is certainly not wanting in importance and dignity, and, to a large part of the reading world, would be full of novelty and interest: as you do not object to reading, perhaps you would be persuaded to write a story of this sort. R. There is another thing, my dear, which I deem of far more importance, and that is a candid and accurate view of their " discipline," that is, of their system of moral and ecclesiastical government. I have often been astonished at the ignorance on this head, of men otherwise enlightened and inquisitive. There are, indeed, some difficulties in the way of acquiring this knowledge, but none which a rational curiosity might not overcome. This system differs from most other religious systems, as it is intended to supply a rule of universal action, and to supersede all other law and government. A community entirely of friends would need no other laws and institutions than the society has at present. MEMORANDUMS MADE ON A JOUR is no cultivation of any kind between the two places. The large trees have at different periods been blown down, and the ground is thickly covered with low timber, chiefly oak bushes, producing vast quantities of acorns, nuts and berries, and inhabited by panthers and deer, together with immense multitudes of pheasants, and other wild fowl, among which the turkey is frequently seen. It is probable that many years will elapse before this tract will become the home of man, as there are yet so many millions of acres of better land unsettled in the United States. The temptation to cultivate any portion of this spot must therefore be feeble and remote. The period may never arrive....but it is evident, sterile and bleak as it is, that it might be forced to contribute to human support. One great art in cultivation consists in adapting the product to the nature of the climate and soil, and where berries and nuts grow spontaneously, the genius and industry of man, goaded by necessity, may surely contrive the means of subsistence. The surface is gravel, sand, and rock, with a small mixture of loam. We overtook two young men on foot, who had killed a rattle-snake having twelve rattles. This is undoubtedly one of the most formidable reptiles of North-America; and it is a fortunate circumstance that he seldom if ever commences an attack without previous notice. He is naturally sluggish, but, conscious of his power, is little disposed to yield his path to an intruder. His maxim seems to be, "Let me alone, and I'll let you alone." When irritated he rarely misses his object, if within his reach, and it is a remarkable fact, that, after the head is severed from the NEY THROUGH PART OF PENN- body, if you touch the tail with a SYLVANIA. (Continued from page 167.) THE next stage was Lavenberg's, nine miles from Kepner's. There stick, the part nearest the head will strike the offending stick with great force, and so instantly and certainly, that it requires uncommon dexterity to avoid the blow. Notwithstanding vulgar prejudice, there are few of our snakes whose bite is not as harmless as the bite of a mouse. This is certainly the case with the black snake, garter snake, water snake, and some others. Lavenberg finds it necessary to house his sheep at night. Not many years since the wolves were so bold that they frequently advanced into his barn yard in the day time and carried off his flock. To keep the wolf at a distance, it is sufficient occasionally to scour his haunts with a pack of the larger species of hounds: they are his natural enemies, and he never fails to desert the country which echoes to their music. When at Lavenberg's, we imagined we had passed the worst of our day's ride, having crossed no less than five stupendous ridges of mountains: the Blue, the Tuscaroro, the Locust, the Broad, and the Mahanoy. The passage over them is better adapted to the taste of a poet, than to that of a farmer. Here are also a few handsome lover's leaps, where the heart-sick melting swain might find a ready cure for all his earthly afflictions. The road skirts some of these ridges at the height of one thousand or more feet, nearly vertically above the contracted vallies which border their rude bases. Instances sometimes occur of loaded waggons meeting in these dangerous passes, in which case there is no alternative but to ungear one of the teams, to conduct the horses one by one to the rear of the waggon, and then to draw it back until a spot can be found sufficiently level and spacious to turn aside, which in some parts requires the patient toil of hours, and the retrograde motion of miles. To prevent these disagreeable consequences, the waggoners crack their whips, and whoop to give notice of their approach. They had need to be careful, for a trifling mistake would be attended with inevitable destruction. It is not a little surprising that waggons, car rying from twelve to fourteen barrels of flour, are continually travelling these roads, which, we thought, were almost impassable on horseback, and frequently led our horses, and walked for hours successively in preference to riding. It had been threatening rain all day, and while at Lavenberg's, a smart shower fell; it ceased between four and five in the afternoon, when we again mounted and proceeded on our way. Presently we began to ascend what is called the Little Mountain, but which is in reality a very lofty and rugged ridge. As we approached its summit, a scene suddenly opened to our view, which, for a time, rivetted our whole attention, and engrossed all our thoughts. We were struck with admiration and surprise, mixed with pleasure and awe. Towards the south-west our view extended to an immense distance over an unimproved and woody country, where mountains rise back of mountains as far as the eye can reach, seeming to vie with each other in the wild aspect of their fronts, and in the bold elevation of their peaks. Around them clouds were seen to rush in every direction, and dark storms were fast gathering on their craggy sides. Neither of us had ever witnessed similar appearan ces, and we involuntarily halted to indulge in the transports of the mo ment. We saw the rain descending in copious streams beneath the mountains' tops; witnessed the vivid flash of the tremulous lightning apparently below us; and listened to the awful peal of distant thunder re-echoed from cliff to cliff, and answering to the hollow blast of the driving wind. We were not long permitted to remain idle spectators of this conflict of the elements, nor to enjoy unmolested the novelty and sublimity of this scene. Presently a tumultuous assemblage of clouds arriving from various points, presented themselves against the side of the mountain nearest to us, and distant about three miles. We saw the storm hastily advance, and dash itself against the opposing eminence. It grew darker and darker, as if enraged at the interruption, and determined to surmount it. We were in full view of the contest. It was of short duration. The storm moved slowly to the summit in an oblique direction from us, and having surmounted it, came with headlong speed down the opposite side. The mountain on which we were was the next highest point of attraction, and the gloomy mass advanced with great velocity towards us. The wind began to whistle keenly around us, and the wild driving of the coming tempest soon awakened us to a sense of our exposed situation. To avoid it was impossible, and our inhospitable region afforded us not the slightest shelter. We prepared to defend ourselves in the best manner we could, by covering our huts with oil cloths, and buttoning our great coats tight about us. It was in vain; for, in a few minutes we were wet to the skin and completely drenched; the water appeared to fall, not in drops, but in sheets, and the effects of its violence on our faces was very disagreeable and even painful. Our horses were not better pleased than ourselves. They could snort and prance, but, like their masters, were compelled to bear the wind and rain without a hope of protection or escape. On our right there was an insurmountable barrier of rocks, and on our left a most dangerous precipice. The road was too rough and steep to admit of their being urged out of a slow walk, in addition to which the rain that fell so covered the passage, that, in a short time, they were constantly wading through torrents, which must have effectually precluded our march, had not the floods found frequent openings, down which they rushed to the lower grounds: in this situation we dragged on, the storm beating on us with great violence....our horses moved forward with reluctance, and we became apprehensive, that, when we should descend to the op posite foot of the mountain, we should have to encounter some current rendered impassable by the rain, and thus be compelled to return to Lavenberg's after night. In this apprehension we were partly mistaken, for we afterwards discovered that our course lay over high grounds, the western descent of the mountain being inconsiderable. We continued in a wilderness, nor saw improvement of any kind, until we were seven miles from our last stage, when we were gratified with the appearance of a house. The storm had greatly abated, but it continued to rain very fast, and we pleased ourselves with the hope of procuring a comfortable retreat for the night. A nearer inspection of the miserable hovel decided the matter, and we determined to proceed rather than enter it. It was a one story building, but whether of wood or stone we did not sufficiently examine to remember. It was evidently too much open to the weather to protect its inhabitants, who, young and old, flocked together to gape at us as we passed. Their complexions were ruddy, and the children were in rags about the door sporting in the rain and mud. Two miles further on our way we passed another sorry dwelling, after which we saw several newly improved farms and cottages, in a tolerable soil. Night came on as we crossed the Catawessy Mountain, which was nigh occasioning us a disagreeable if not a fatal accident. We were utter strangers to the road, and it became so dark that we could scarce see a yard before us. When arrived at the Catawessy creek, my horse refused to move forward; I urged him but he became unruly. J. who had been behind me, came up, and thought he could perceive that we were about to enter on the ruins of a bridge totally impassable on horseback. This we found to be the case when we had an opportunity of viewing the same place in open day, and had we proceeded many steps further, it is quite probable that both horses and riders would have been lost. The skeleton of an old wooden bridge, with a single plank extended length-wise over the stream, and barely sufficient to admit a footman, was all that remained. From the roaring of the water it was evidently not inconsiderable either in quantity or force; but whether the noise was the effect of natural falls, or proceeded from a mill-dam, we were unable to determine. We could not, in our wet disagreeable trim, think of turning back, especially as there was no house near us, nor any that we knew of, in which we could count on being comfortably lodged on this side of Lavenberg's. The prospect on either hand was not very consoling; we could not have reached Lavenberg's before morning, and we knew not the width, depth, or rapidity of the creek. There was no person at hand to consult, and who by a single friendly word, might have relieved us from our perplexity. At length we determined to proceed, encouraged by the appearance of a light on the opposite shore, which convinced us that a human habitation was at hand. Directed by the roaring of the falls, we moved cautiously below them, and boldly took the stream: we were exceedingly elated on finding it less formidable than we feared, and soon landed safely on the western banks. We now inquired our way, and being directed into the right road, reached the town of Catawessy in a short time, it being but about half a mile from the creek. Our first care was to change our clothing, but on opening our saddlebags, we perceived that the rain had penetrated them and wet every garment. However, by an interchange of civilities, we contrived to muster as many pieces between us as enabled each to have a tolerably dry suit. A silk coatee in which I rode, was changed into a dozen colours and shades, and might have suited Joseph of cd, though it was VOL. I....NO. IV. rendered useless to me. Even our hats, notwithstanding their coverings of oil cloth, were thoroughly wet. After a little furbishing and recruiting, we could not but give vent to some merriment, on looking round our chamber, which had more of the appearance of a washerwoman's kitchen than of a lodging room, so handsomely had we decorated it with our dripping apparel. 23d. A good dish of coffee in the evening, and a comfortable night's lodging, make us feel little the worse for the exposure and drenching of yesterday. It rained most of the night. This morning the sky is fair and serene. This cheese, It seems an odd humour in our landlady to make choice of a case of walnut drawers placed in our chamber, for the storage of her Dutch cheese. The odour is generally not much more agreeable to the nose of an Englishman than the smell of rotten eggs. or, as the Germans call it, karse, is made of the curd of milk suffered to grow sour; it is salted, pressed in cloths, and afterwards dried and hardened in the sun, and not unusually ripened in hay. In this state, when made of rich milk, it is very palatable, and little inferior to the cheese of the English dairy, but the Germans prefer it when rancid or putrid, in which state it emits a stench to which nothing but habit and prejudice can reconcile us. An agreeable sauce called schmeerkaese, is also made by the Germans, from the curd of sour milk. The whey being entirely pressed out, the curd is moistened with fresh cream, brought to a suitable consistence for spreading, and then eaten on bread, but more frequently on bread and butter. This is a delicate preparation, and is rarely rejected by the most dainty palate. The Germans of Pennsylvania are greatly attached to these simple relishes for bread, and it is not uncommon, among the better class of the farmers, to see the master of the house regale himself with butter, 3 MEMORANDUM MADE OF honey, apple-butter*, and schmeerkaese, spread in successive layers on the same slice of bread, and in this manner eaten with milk, and sometimes with wasser-suppe. The latter is an universal dish among the German-Americans, and is composed of fried flour and butter, on which boiling water is poured, after the addition of thin slices of bread, and the common culinary spices. My boots being too wet to wear, I have been obliged to borrow a pair of shoes from the landlord, which being much too large, I make rather an aukward appearance, and J. is very merry at my hobbling gait. We nevertheless attended divine service at friends' meetinghouse; about one hundred persons of both sexes, and mostly from the adjacent settlement, were present. It is the only house of worship in -the town. There are about forty-five dwellings in Catawessy; only one of them is built of stone, the rest are either log or frame. It is a place of little or no trade, and most probably ever will be. It was planned and settled about fifteen years ago, when every speculator, who owned a level tract of land on the Susquehanna, seemed infected with the town-making mania. Poor people were induced, by specious and illusory representations, to purchase lots, and having spent all their money, and perhaps run in debt, in the erection of small tenements, they could not, after finding themselves deceived and disappointed, sell ut, and have therefore been compelled to remain for want of the means to remove. Catawe sy is on the eastern branch of the Susquehanna. The mountains on the east, south, and Borth of the town, form an irregu lar semi-circle, with the points terminating in the river, and are dis • The substance is made by boiling apples in sweet cyder, to which some simple spice, most generally pimento, is added. The Germans call it ludwerg. tant about three-fourths of a mile. Indian burying ground, and some habitants, from motives of curio- R |