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having never witnessed a scene like this. I was glad that it afforded him pleasure, but for myself, I have: little partiality for mountains; I have suffered too much amongst mountains; they are splendid objects to look at, and sound well in theories, but nothing wears worse than mountains, when you take up your abode amongst them. True, you can have a delicious pheasant, a venison, or a trout now and then, but these delicacies are greatly overbalanced by the cold blasts of the winter, killing your lambs and calves by dozens, chilling vegetation, overwhelming every thing with snow, and a thousand other inconveniences, killing up your horses clambering over them, to bring you from a distance articles of necessity, rewarding your hard labour with a scanty bundle or two of buckwheat perhaps, or rye, and a few Irish potatoes. I confess I cannot admire mountains as I hear many do.

Spencer's Hill.-This hill took its name (as the story goes) from a man by the name of Spencer, who with his family was travelling westwardly, and encamped for the night on this hill, that having built his fire over a snake den, the snakes, annoyed by the heat, came out in the night and bit him in such numbers, that he died immediately. In the pangs of death he awoke, called his wife and bid her get up quickly, and save herself by flight, which she did. It appears incredible that the snakes should wreak their vengeance on the man, whilst the woman escaped unhurt. A number of legendary tales are related of this memorable mountain, such as people, being frozen to death in the snow, killed by the Indians, &c. Though there are several houses and farms on it, the land is thin, and the accommodation is wretched, hardly fit for waggoners.

When you gain the eastern limit of Cumberland, you have an extensive view of East Tennessee, Clinch River, Kingston, and Campbell's Fort: all are present at once, to view. It was truly grand and picturesque. The Fort rises conspicuous above the rest, it

being situated on a high hill, descending rapidly at all points. What a scene this for the fancy and pen of a poet! while I have neither leisure nor talents to exhibit it in simple prose.

The Cumberland mountain leaves you on the bank of Clinch River, a beautiful smooth-flowing stream, about 250 yards wide, navigable its whole length, which is a little less than 200 miles. While crossing Clinch (which you do in a boat) you witness another display of the rich and beautiful scenery which abounds in this country. Kingston lies before youthe majestic Tennessee shows itself below, having just joined Clinch river, while Campbell's Fort appears at the same time looking down upon the junction of these noble streams, from its lofty eminence to the right, decorated with fruit trees and shrubberies, like the guardian genius of the place.

Kingston, the seat of justice for Rowan county, E. Tennessee, is built on that point of land formed by the junction of Holston and Clinch rivers. It is a handsome little town, of about forty houses; a postoffice and a fine spring are all the objects of notice within it. Having travelled forty-four hours without sleep, we arrived at an inn a few miles west of Knoxville, at 10 o'clock at night, where, more dead than alive, I threw myself on a bed, without undressing, to await the hour of starting. We arrived at Knoxville to breakfast, and my friend of Abington and myself resolved to stop till the next stage, to refresh ourselves with sleep, for the want of which we were almost exhausted. I must not forget to mention that we passed Campbell's station a few miles below Knoxville, and the pleasure I had in seeing and talking with Col. Campbell, who gives name to it and to the Fort mentioned before. I had a message to him from his daughter, Mrs. Col. Wright, of Alabama. The good old man came out to meet me with a smiling countenance. He appeared to be between sixty and seventy, hale and active, tall and straight as an Indian. Happy should I have been to have spent some time

with him, but the stage drove on, and we parted. I ought to have mentioned too, that we set down our Tennessean in the road, the preceding night, being near his home.

Knoxville. Here our fellow travellers, of Nashville, parted from us, the one who belonged to Knoxville having arrived at the end of his journey--Mr. Major and his friend pursuing their's to the north.I never shall forget the former, particularly an expression of his, on a dispute which took place between the passengers: "Let us have peace." He spoke with such persuasive sweetness that harmony was soon restored. I never was more struck by so few words, and from so young a man.

Knoxville is the largest town we have seen since we left Huntsville. It is situated on the Holston river, below its junction with French broad. It contains four churches, for as many denominations, a courthouse, offices, a prison, two printing offices, a bank, a college, an academy, and several schools. It has twelve stores and 300 houses, several of which are of brick, besides barracks for 500 men. They have a watch, but the town is not lighted. The college is handsomely endowed by Congress, and is in a flourishing condition. The manners of the citizens are very pleasing, and much more refined than those of Huntsville, though with not half their eclat. The ladies are easy and artless, very much so,-and what is highly honorable to the citizens, and what I never met with before, the different sects of christians unite in worship! These must be christians indeed! The land near the town is very poor pine land, though I am told that large bodies of good land lie on the river.

We put up at Boyd's-a man who in every respect deserves the patronage of the public. He keeps a table spread with plenty and variety, and what was our bill? 50 cents per day, including extra charges.

While we remained in Knoxville (which was three days) I had an opportunity of indulging an inclination

I had long entertained of contemplating human na-
ture in a new guise. At the house where we put up,
was a lady eighty years of age. This was the first
opportunity in my life I had had of judging for myself
respecting a subject of which I had often heard and read,
viz.-that persons of her age were measurably dead
to those vivid affections and feelings of the heart,
which are common to the species of junior years; that
the powers of the mind become relaxed and enfee-
bled by long exercise. She was a stout hale woman,
could see to sew with a needle, and read without glas-
ses, though she told me (reluctantly I thought) that
she had used spectacles for thirty-five years. One
afternoon as she and I were sitting together in a pleas-
ant portico, I drew her into conversation with a view
to ascertain what were her ideas on moral and divine
truths, her opinion with respect to a future state, and
what were her views of christian duties, faith, charity,
&c. She was much averse to this conversation, though
she was fond of talking on other subjects. After some
time she answered to the several questions, but with
much incoherence, and only replied by monosyllables.
Before I was done with her she appeared to have a
mental view of the duties of a christian, but it was
long before I could draw it from her, in doing which,
I had to advance several texts of scripture again and
again. But of the practice of a christian, she was ei-
ther entirely ignorant or averse! I had a fair oppor-
tunity of deciding on this point; though I had, as I
thought, aroused her attention to this particular the
evening before.
I stepped into the kitchen one
morning, to send one of the servants for something I
wanted, and this old lady happened to be present.
She drew near to me, and looking earnestly in my
face, exclaimed," he can't go, he's got his work to
do." This negative of her's proved to me nothing
more than her selfish, uncharitable disposition, as
there were half a dozen servants then idle in the
kitchen. Upon our return to the parlour, I seized
the opportunity this circumstance afforded, to prove

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to her her want of christian charity. I found it easy to convince her, but the impression was momentary. The result proved what I had often heard, "that old people are callous to the duties of a christian."

During our stay at Knoxville, a beautiful female from the Northern States, accompanied by her husband and two beautiful children, passed through the town. Her husband has an interest in the salt works, already mentioned, near Sparta, he is a man of some wealth, and although a Yankee, had purchased several slaves as he came through Maryland, with a view of making his fortune at the salt works. Poor simpleton! he will lose his children, and very probably his wife, the first year, and the next he will break; the place being generally fatal to foreigners. This day's stage (I mean the fourth) brings one passenger, and with him we pursue our journey.

Our new fellow traveller was by far the best company we had had yet; he was all frolic, fun, life and spirits, that never flagged. He was different from our Irishman in this, he never drank a drop of spirits. He was not long in our company, before he imparted to us three of his maxims, one was "that he never drank," the second, "that he never played cards," and the third, "that he never gave or took paper money." All this was well. He, I soon discovered, would keep me from the hypo, so long as we remained together. He had been accustomed to travelling, and that too in a stage: he had never learned to ride on horseback. He was a Yankee, he said, but I do not believe him hardly yet; neither his conversation nor manners had any appearance of the Yankee. If he really was a Yankee, he was the most gentlemanly of the country I had ever seen. I hinted this to him. "I hope," said he, "you would'nt judge us all by the d-n little Yankee pedlars, that go through the country." He was about twenty-three years of age, well made, his complexion dark, his features handsome, and countenance all expression. He had what is called a laughing" black eye. He was a merchant from

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