See Prospectus, on advertising sheet, for terms of Magazine and 'Merry-Making in the Olden Time.'

LINES: THE RIVER,'

ART. 1. ADVENTURES ON A MOUNTAIN TOP,

II. STANZAS: WAITING,'

III. 'STATION-LIFE' IN AUSTRALIA,

IV. HOPE: 'AFTER THE MANNER' OF HOOD,

V. KING ROLF: A DREAM OF A WINTER'S NIGHT,

VI.

353

364

365

375

376

389

VII. THE GARDEN: A REMEMBRANCE,

391

VIII. JOHN KEATS: HIS CAREER AND GENIUS,

392

IX. LINES: 'TOO DEEP FOR TEARS,'

897

X.

CHINESE RECORDS. BY THE LATE JOHN K. DUER, U. S. NAVY,

398

2.

1. TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL LEE. BY GEORGE H. MOORE,
THE DOOMED CHIEF. BY JUDGE THOMPSON, VERMONT,

422

423

5. LIFE IN SPAIN, PAST AND PRESENT. BY WALTER THORNBURY,

: 427

6. LIFE AND TIMES OF GENERAL SAM DALE,

428

7. EDGAR A. POE AND HIS CRITICS. BY SARAH H. WHITMAN,

429

EDITOR'S TABLE:

430

1. EDITORIAL HISTORICAL NARRATIVE OF THE KNICKERBOCKER
MAGAZINE: NUMBER TWELVE,
2. REMINISCENCES OF THE LATE WASHINGTON IRVING,... 439

1. LETTER FROM IRVING TO MR. VAN NESS, OF KINDERHOOK, IN 1809: AN 'AUTHENTIC' DREAMER:
NARROW ESCAPE FROM DROWNING: THE OLD PARK THEATRE, AND ITS COMPANY: TRIBUTES
OF AFFECTION AT IRVING'S GRAVE: TABLET IN CHRIST CHURCH AT TARRYTOWN: LETTER
FROM AN ARTIST-VISITOR AT SUNNYSIDE: 'MOUNTJOY AND ALLSTON: THE ENGLISH PRESS
UPON IRVING'S DEATH: MODERN GOBLINS IN SLEEPY-HOLLOW: LETTER FROM MR. LEVING TO
THE EDITOR: AUTHENTIC AND CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE OF 'THE MAN.'

3. GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS, .

1. ORIGINAL LETTER FROM MRS. THEODOSIA BURR ALSTON TO MRS. MADISON, ASKING INFLUENCE FOR THE RESTORATION FROM EXILE OF HER FATHER, AARON BUER. 2. MILITARY 'DUTY: A PEREMPTORY 'SERGEANT-AT-ARMS. 8. A HOT-HEADED PARTISAN, 'JOKE-PROOF. 4. A WELLDESERVED' TRIBUTE TO A WIDE-AWAKE PRINTING-OFFICER: THE GREAT COMFORT OF A GOOD PROOF-READER. 5. TOUCHING STANZAS: 'THE BABY. 6. GENERAL JACKSON CONQUERED, AND A CAPTIVE, 7. A POETICALLY-INSPIRED IRISH WAITER. 8. THE 'EVACUATOR OF THE EVACUATING 'BRITISHERS. 9. THE NEW-YORK LEADER' UPON MRS. WHITMAN'S WORE ON POR. 10. A LESSON FOR 'YOUNG LOVYERS. 11. NEW BOOK BY 'PAUL SIOGVOLK, AUTHOR OF SCHEDIASMS. 12. DEFERRED 'GOSSIPRY: DEATH OF WILLIAM E. BURTON, ETC. 18. LINES: 'A YEAR IN HEAVEN.

4. BRIEF NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS,

444

452

DURING the summer of 1858 I ascended for the third time one of the highest summits of the Green Mountain ranges, which until within a few years has been comparatively little visited, is still unknown to the majority of summer tourists, but from which can be had a view of scenery, for variety, extent and grandeur, scarcely excelled on this continent. A good portion of the sentiment of travelling is lost even amid the utmost magnificence of Nature, as soon as the path begins to be beaten, and the crowd rushes in.

I was accompanied by one friend, and we expected to meet a guide at the little village of Stowe, which lies snugly nestled at the base of the great Mansfield Mountain. The weather looked doubtful, but we were unwilling to turn back without giving it a trial. Arrived at the point from which we were to begin the ascent, we perceived the unwelcome prognostics of foul weather. Drops of rain fell, while clouds and vapor assembled about the multitudinous peaks to obscure or shut out the panorama on which we had come to gaze. The expedition seemed fairly at an end. That bright and enthusiastic traveller, the eye, goes excursionizing over magnificent distances, leaps over chasms, flies delighted from summit to summit, only when the amber highway is clear. Should we turn back? It might be the last chance for my friend, Seth, as his vacation was nearly at an end, and he must return to the flatlands of life, and might never see the Green Mountains again. There is many a dark and dismal morning which changes to a bright and balmy day. Oh! how unfortunate to stop building when we have laid the foundation, to leave the field when we have put our hand to the plough, to drop the arrow when it is placed to the string, to go chasing after a kiss, and having just reached the lovely port, to lose our smack!

Our guide was the proprietor of the mountain. Many awful convulsions of nature, elemental warfare, fire and water, had been at work in far-back ages to heap it up in sublime and savage trim for

him, so that he could own it in fee-simple, with all its improvements made from chaos by the hand of God, and so that he could place a house of hospitality upon it, and add the crowning graces of humanity to its rugged peaks. For many a year, like a privileged Moses, he had ascended it alone to behold the CREATOR'S glory with a kind of prophetic gaze. But the Gentiles had begun to come up in troops. To his infinite satisfaction one camp-meeting had been held, and from the high altar of stone the songs of Zion had resounded from Mount Washington to the Adirondacks, and thence with volumes of cloudy incense, went up from this great temple of Nature to the skies. What wonder that he should feel an interest in property which he held by a sort of Divine right, that he should be loth to see any worshippers turn away, and that at last, after various uneasy glances at the skies, he should open his parable, and say: 'Gentlemen, this is not going to be a rainy day, it is a mere flurry; the sunset will be clear. I guess we had better take dinner, push up to the half-way house, then if the prospect is better, keep a-goin' up, and after that we shall see what we shall see!'

It was spoken with the wisdom of a Solomon. The delicate allusion to dinner, which was most happily coïncident with a puff from the kitchen, touched a tender part of poor human nature, and with a sigh of relief, while a slight flush of hope mantled upon our cheeks, we poured out a crystal flood in two tin basins, and with our faces turned toward the Mecca of our desires, perfected our ablutions with the religious zest of Turks. Good beef gives a man strength, an aphorism of patriarchal simplicity and age; yea, a pot of good humming ale beside, enfeebleth him not. By this time the artillery of heaven began to play, the lightnings flashed, but when the general who had charge of the expedition, stretching out his arm majestically to the great breast-work of mountains, said, 'Do you think that you can scale those batteries?' each one replied modestly yet firmly, with concert of voice and speech: 'I will try, Sir.'

A serene smile overspread the face of Napoleon, as he ordered the baskets of provision to be placed in the wagon. 'Gentlemen,' he said, 'the work is as good as done. Consider your hands shook.'

We were to drive some miles to the last bounds of cultivation, to a farm-house on the edge of a vast primeval forest. There the carriage was to be left, we were to mount horses, and through a narrow bridle-path try a steeper ascent. We had scarcely gone two miles, when the rain descended in torrents; all the signs were unpropitious, and in dogged silence we pushed on toward the solemn realms where we expected to pillow our heads for the night. With the thirst for adventure somewhat abated by copious floods of rain-water, we arrived at the first stopping-place. While the man of the house looked