broad; still broader and still more turbid it seems to me under this grey, chilly, wintry sky. Its waters become more and more swollen every day, and the shores become still more flat and swampy, bordered with cotton-wood and cane-brake. Huge blocks of timber, trees, and all kind of things float along the Mississippi, all telling of wreck and desolation. This great river seems to me like the waters of the Deluge, and they bear along with them a vast register of sin. Our magnificent Noah's Ark, however, more cosmopolitan than its ancient predecessor, floats upon the great cosmopolitan waters with an easy conscience, and is such a capital place altogether, that though I sometimes think of the Deluge and the Mississippi register of sin, and of De Soto's fate in these regions, and see the impression of his spirit stamped upon the gloomy landscape, upon the grey earth and sky, yet even so musing, I cannot but feel cheerful of mood. I seem to see myself here, like a citizeness of the world, conveyed along by the great citizen of the world; and thus I know that I shall now become acquainted with its geographical history to its very close, and that I shall see that beautiful Cuba and the life of the tropics; and thus, I think——many thoughts.
Everything on board is quiet, and all goes on with order and propriety. I spend the forenoons by myself, read a little in the “History of America,” and in Buchanan's “Journal of Man,” and let my thoughts flow with the stream forth into the ocean. The afternoons and evenings are passed in company with some agreeable passengers on board. At meal-times Mr. Lerner H. always stands ready in the saloon to conduct me to table, and in the morning extends to me his hand, with a brotherly salutation. He sits beside me at table, mentions the various dishes to me, and tells me what I may eat, and always is right; is charming and agreeable in every way; reminds me often in his manner of our Captain G., and resembles him
