oot of the mountain a hundred miles to seek a vent. On your left
approaches the Potomac, seeking a vent also. In the moment of their
junction, they rush together against the mountain, rend it asunder, and
pass off to the sea.

"The first glance at this scene hurries our senses into the opinion that
this earth has been created in time; that the mountains were formed
first; that the rivers began to flow afterwards; that, in this place
particularly, they have been dammed up by the Blue Ridge Mountains, and
have formed an ocean which filled the whole valley; that, continuing to
rise, they have at length broken over at this spot, and have torn the
mountain down from its summit to its base.

"The piles of reckon each hand, but particularly on the Shenandoah, the
evident marks of their disrupture and avulsion from their beds by the
most powerful agents of nature, corroborate the impression. But the
distant finishing which nature has given to this picture, is of a very
different character. It is a true contrast to the foreground. It is as
Placid and delightful as that is wild and tremendous.

"For, the mountain being cloven asunder, she presents to the eye,
through the cleft, a small catch of smooth blue horizon, at an
infinite distance in the plain country, inviting you, as it were, from
the riot and tumult roaring around, to pass through the breach, and
participate of the calm below."--Jefferson's Notes on Virginia.

Note 2.

"Save the plaintive song of the whip-poor-will."

That the Indian mind and language are not devoid of poetry, the names
they have given to this bird (the whip-poor-will) sufficiently evidence.
Some call it the "Muckawis," others the "Wish-ton-wish," signifying "the
voice of a sigh," and "the plaint for the lost." Those, who in its
native glens at twilight, have listened to its indescribably melancholy
song, will know how beautifully appropriate these names are.

Note 3.

"They, the foul slaves' of lust and gold,
Say that our blood and hearts are cold."

It has been advanced by some writers, that the almost miraculous
fortitude often displayed by Indians, under the most intense suffering,
is to be accounted for by their insensibility to pain, resulting, they
allege, from a defective nervous organization. From the absence of a
display of gallantry and tenderness between the sexes, they argue also,
in them, the nonexistence of love, and its kindred passions. This we
think unj