fessor's pardon. A single instance of the facts opposed to the truth of one of his charges, shall suffice.

In our review, we alluded to what we conceived an absurd opinion, that Mount Tom and Mount Holyoke were once united, and that the pass between them has been excavated by the waters of the Connecticut, or the currents of a primitive lake-inferring, from the language used, 'that he, the professor, had fallen into this old and extravagant notion.' But he repels the idea, and declares that, for ten years past, he has been in the habit of devoting the greater part of a lecture to a refutation of this opinion, and seemingly complains that we only referred to the topographical part of the report, in proof of our position.'

We suppose a man bound to state facts, as well in the topographical as in the scientific part of a geological work. But the reader shall see how grossly we have misrepresented him.

་

Speaking of the Connecticut river, (p. 79,) he says: There it passes directly through the deep opening between Holyoke and Tom, WHICH ITS OWN WATERS, or more probably other agencies, have EXCAVATED in early times.' What these other agencies were, may be seen by a comparision of pp. 82, 88, 222, 223, 224, when it will be seen that the idea of a primitive lake' did not originate with the reviewer.

Again: Still higher is South Hadley, with Holyoke and Tom half encircling it on the West and North, except where the Connecticut HAS OPENED a passage between these mountains.' (p. 88.)

The professor may again complain of being judged by his topography, and therefore we say, let him be judged by his science. Thus, on pages 133, 134, 218, 225, the scientific part of his report, the reader will perceive that the professor takes it for granted, that not only the pass between Tom and Holyoke, but that of the Deerfield river through Deerfield Mountain, of the Westfield river, at West Springfield, and also the whole valley between Deerfield Mountain and Mount Toby, 'have been excavated by water.'

If the reader will carefully peruse all that has been written on this subject, he may find the other misstatements and misrepresentations almost as gross as the foregoing, and he will then be able to judge who has been the most misrepresented.

With these remarks, we must bid the professor adieuassuring both him and our readers, that the reviewer dares to give his name to the public,' and that he will do so, when he shall learn that the knowledge of his name can affect the truth of the facts, or whenever the customs of the world shall require or expect him to do so.

LOVE.

SHE loved as woman seldom loves;
Hers was that feeling, caught from heaven,
That never time nor change removes -
From which the heart can ne'er be riven:
For, be the soul to madness driven,
That feeling still would hold its sway-
The last beam o'er the shades of even,
That, lingering, shows it once was day.

M.

SONOROUS and stirring are the sounds of the bell at the Eagle, in Buffalo, which summon the wayfarer to the bolting of his meridian, nocturnal, and matutinal meal! Wo to him, the education of whose jaws, in the swift movements of mastication, has been neglected! It were better his mother had not borne him, than to have him seated at the table. However, I say nothing to this point. Eating is earthly and sensual; and the knife-and-fork system of pursuing it, especially where you cannot select your own hardware, is devilish. Commend me to the Turk. I could not eat with satisfaction at the table d'hote of any inn in the country (some ten excepted, which it would be invidious to name) - did the table groan with a feast like that which covered the parental board of Katrina Van Tassel-that Dutch beau ideal of our beloved Irving.

TALKING of WASHINGTON IRVING. I take it for granted, good reader, that you have never encountered him; for be it known, except in the elevated circle where he moves and shines, he is one who loves not to be seen of men.' He hates your pointings-out in the streets, and greetings in the markets: these he leaves to be struggled after, with painful yearnings, by the flimsy fry which injudicious friends would

inflate to his capacity and standard. It is a year ago since I had the pleasure of repeating the pleasure of discernment and intercourse with this genial, affectionate, and noble man. I have for IRVING — and I am willing to confess it —a kind of love. His veracious books, comprising the History of New-York, have created more risibility under my waistcoat, than any volumes from the past or of the present. I read them regularly once a year. There is about them such a transparent flow of wit such glorious satire such happiness of expression such more-than-meets-the-eye phrases that, take them up when and where I will, they violate my sobriety, and seduce me into a hearty guffaw. As Geoffrey Crayon, I am charmed with him; as an historian, I honor him; as a patriot and a gentleman, I thoroughly revere him. What a style is his! None of your shallow tinsel, your unnatural emblems, your forced conceits, your windy tropes: all is truth-gentlenessnature. God bless the gentleman! Well, as I was saying, 't is now about a year since I saw him last. It was a bridal scene. Sweet was the gusto of the Maccobrunner upon the lips of my friend G— and his comrade Ollapod, when the splendid coach flashed its whirring wheels between the green walks of the Park and our apartment at the Clinton. (As yet, famed Astor's was not.) Considerable if not more' were the oglings we received, as our satin-lined coats fluttered their white aspects around the door of the carriage; and the flowery favors I bore, elicited envious looks from each pedestria n churl,' as we rolled along Broadway to Square.

IMAGINE it a few moments after sunset, in a superb drawing-room, a few steps from a famous plaza-I think they call it.' The rosy lingerings of a June sky enable you to discern yourself surrounded with grooms and bride's-maids, some half a score. Carriages bustle up beneath you, freighted with beauty; the harp rings from the hall; the sweet perfumes from a hundred bouquets float through the apartment. The past and present meet together. Warm hands are in your grasp; fair smiles and happy laughter beam and echo around. Where,' one could not but think, 'may we all be within the year! Some, now around me, will be on the ocean, in the service of their country some in Italy some in Egypt - some in Greece.' And so they are.

DESCEND with me to the bridal saloon. There stands the holy man. We proceed, in order due;' and forming that open line,' which never looks so beautiful as on such an occasion, hear the vows that bind together two loving hearts. Silks rustle, kisses echo, diamonds gleamfairy voices murmur around. By the way, that kissing is a pleasant business. It is highly commended of St. Paul; and though I may, as that worthy apostle once said of himself, 'speak as a fool,' yet I am going to make a hitherto unattempted literary effort. I trust it will be well got up.' I am going to do what Solomon said could not be done namely, describe something new. This is the age of

* 'Greet one another with an holy kiss.' II Corinthians, xiii., 12.

improvement.

Ladies and gentlemen, stand back, and you will see' — a kiss on paper. Do n't be incredulous. I will give you the sound in types. Listen! When two pairs of affectionate lips are placed together, to the intent of osculation, the noise educed is something like to the ensuingepe-st' weep'st-e'e! — and then the sound tapers off so softly and so musical, that no letters can do it justice. But this is a digres sion. If any one thinks my description imperfect, let him surpass it, if

he can!

WHO is that gentleman, standing by the pier-table, in the other drawing room?' said I to a friend. I am oblivious of his name, but his countenance is familiar. He has a noble forehead - a discerning eye -a most goodly presence. How the organs of humor expand in his temples! What a benevolent smile plays around his lips!-and he seems, too, the focus of all eyes.'

Yes,' I was answered, and he deserves it. That is WASHINGTON IRVING.'

The remembrance of the face struck me in a moment. We had met before, but not as acquaintances; and the pleasure of an introduction offered by my friend, a long-tried compeer of CRAYON, was accepted with prompt alacrity. My memory of that interview, and the prolonged colloquy to which, from circumstances, it gave rise, is really among the most pleasant of my life. Irving had unknowingly done me sundry favors abroad, when Secretary of Legation at the Court of St. James, by the transmission of letters for me to America, through the department of state. For these I thanked him cordially. A stoop of wine followed; and how numerous were the excellent sayings that went forth from his lips, over those gouts of floating gold we quaffed together! Geoffrey seemed almost disposed, for the nonce, to eulogize the Benedict. The rustling of silks and the creaking of shoes betrayed his fond heart to woman.' A gleam of genuine pleasure laughed in his eye. In dress simple - in manners gentle, and easily entreated-he takes the hue of the time and the taste of his company so gracefully upon himself, that you think you have known him for years. And if you are a reader, so you have. I wondered at the verdict once given me respecting him, by Fanny K-, that at the aristocratic dinners of London he was quite reserved, and sometimes sleepy. Methought (as he passed on from subject to subject without impediment from the changes in the city of his heart, since the days of Stuyvesant and Van Twiller correcting now and then, with right good will, my errone. ous pronunciation of some of those jaw-sundering Dutch names) that there was something in the atmosphere of home, and the sweet pomp of a bridal scene, which won upon his affection, and sent a genial glow to his inmost heart. Would that the proprieties of social life might permit a transcript of the constant felicities which he then and there diffused into the porches of mine ear! Thoughts, common perhaps in themselves, clothed in such exquisite and telling expression; fancies evoked from every-day facts; happy terms and phrases innumerable. Could I record them, how much would they enrich this my fifth subsection of number sixteen!

REVENONS A BUFFALO. He who would form a just appreciation of this wonderful city, let him, as I did, (if he have literary acquaintances and comrades of the mind, but personally unknown,) take the arm of a friend, and as the twilight comes on, go down through Main-street to the Erie pier. What a sight! It is one which makes the heart of the observer swell with pride that he was born an American. It was a Sunday evening,' as Southey would say, when I coursed with my friend along the crowded quay of Buffalo. The sun had gone down beyond the far headlands toward the occident, and a track of quivering gold stretched for leagues to the west, over the dancing waves of that inland ocean, Erie - portraying the ruddy brightness of the daygod's car. Inspiring music filled the atmosphere; the streamers of steam craft, (ready, like a mighty war-horse, to burst their tether, and pawing the waves with impatience,) flouted the sky; the tramp of unnumbered feet echoed along the pavements; the church-going bells rang from afar. I stopped for some minutes to gaze upon the face of a beautiful Indian girl, of the Seneca tribe, as she offered me her gaycolored moccasins. I would not buy-but I could not go. I waited, therefore, with pleased delay, affecting not to understand her broken English; watching, the while, how her voluptuous lashes rose and fell over those dark, surprised, and dewy eyes. She was perhaps sixteen; graceful beyond words, yet stately as Juno, and her form moulded in all the fulness of youth. There was such a world of intelligence in her glance, and in that soft blush, half olive and half ruby, which glowed on her cheek, that—(I might as well own it)—the bosom of Ollapod was marvellously troubled. Laugh not, reader-but to that bright remnant of a perishing race the enthusiastic Benedict kissed his hand! Yes, and the tawny digits of the fair Seneca went to her lips, and a smile, bright as a line of unsullied sunlight from the pearly gates of Eden, beamed upon the parting glance of Ollapod. 'T was evanescent - but how nice!

I HAVE no idea of being statistical: my limited acquaintance with DABOLL, and other arithmetical gentlemen, forbids me from dabbling in figures. But, if any one desires to see practical multiplication, whether in persons or property, let him go to Buffalo. • Where are those steamboats bound?' asked I of my friend, as we stood upon the pier which, in front of warehouses for many a rood in extent, was covered to the height of fifteen and sometimes twenty feet with unhoused merchandise, for which the houses themselves, glutted to the overflow, had not admission.

'Oh, only a few hundred miles up the lake.'

A few hundred miles!' I exclaimed, astonished: In the name of aquatic locomotion, how far can they go? Do you pretend to say they can proceed farther to the west than I have come from the south-east?"

A hearty laugh followed this observation, which startled the by-standers. Just at this moment a steamer got under way. She moved majestically along the side of the pier, passing ships almost innumerable; bugles and trumpets hallowed the air with those national songs which do so stir my blood; and really I am quite unable to describe