its ethereal haze gives to each part of the prospect its true relations in subdued gradations, I know of nothing in this country that can equal or surpass this prospect. If we look northward from Sabbath-day Point, the scene is quite reversed. We see before us a broad lake resembling the sea in its hue and expanse. From its shores the hills every where retire, and no islands break the breadth of the view. Miles and miles away in the distant horizon, faintly outlined and tinted with the softest of pearly grays, loom the bold perpendicular cliffs of Rogers's Rock and Anthony's Nose, like the shores of an unknown land which we approach after a long voyage. Here and there a white sail, a mere glistening speck in the distance, lends to the illusion.

It was at Sabbath-day Point that Lord Abercrombie halted on his expedition to Ticonderoga. Here the troops-16,000 in number, in 500 or 600 boats-landed and passed the night. One would like to know more about one of the most interesting and picturesque events in the annals of war: how did the battalions encamp; how long did they linger by the lake, building their bateaux; what stories they told around the camp fires by the wavering, dusky gloom of the primeval

glided along the echoing shores, until they landed on the sward of Sabbath-day Point, and, rolled in their blankets, slept deep, many of them for the last time in this world, while the sentinels marched their rounds, and called, through the night-watches, "All is well," while the Indian scouts prowled in the neighboring forest to spy out the movements of the foe, until the reveille smote sharp on the air of dawn, and the regiments sprang to greet the morning star, and marched to meet their doom.

Proceeding northwest from Sabbathday Point, we have on our right the spacious waters of Blair's Bay and the gentle slopes of Spruce Mountain. On our left is a settlement called the Hague, on a pretty inlet at the mouth of a cleft among the hills, which carries the eye inland to the ridge called the Three Brothers. yond the Hague is Friends' Point, whose beauty is enhanced by a cluster of emeralds called the Waltonian Islands by a fishing club which at one time made it their summer resort.

Be

We are now drawing near to the striking headland called Anthony's Nose. It dips with considerable abruptness to the water at the end of a long and lofty ridge. Its rocky sides are richly varie

forest; the foraging and scouting parties; did ladies accompany the expedition; were the notes of fife and drum heard among the hundred isles, as they swept up the lake in mighty procession, the regimental banners incarnadining the blue sheen of the winding lake, and interweaving their crimson with the plume-like branches of the isles amid which the mighty armament threaded its majestic course with the measured rhythm of ten thousand oars, which startled the eagle screaming from its eyrie. Mile after mile, hour after hour, the stately host

Vol. LIX.-No. 351.-22

gated with the vivid tints of lichens and mosses, and the water around it is 400 to 500 feet deep, and of a brilliant sea-green color. Passing Anthony's Nose, we turn a sharp angle and enter into a fourth division of Lake George, which is quite closed in, while no part of the lake has more individual traits of its own. Facing us are the vertical sides of Rogers's Rock, which stands out into the lake, quite isolated, and rises to a height of 640 feet above the water-altogether a very massive and impressive feature of the landscape. The rock is of a rich purple-brown

THE NORTHERN EXTREMITY OF LAKE GEORGE.

color, and on the south side the precipice is deeply grooved, giving the effect of a fortress of old, supported at the angles by heavy bastions. The vegetation which clothes the lower part of the cliff resembles ivy clambering up a mouldering wall. About four of the clock in the afternoon of an August day, the sun so strikes the rock that one side of the bastions is in dark shadow, while the other, smitten by the light, stands out in strong relief. The effect is magnificent.

On the east side of Rogers's Rock is a smooth space entirely bare of vegetation. and sloping to the water at a very sharp angle. This is called Rogers's Slide. It took its name from the circumstance that Major Rogers, in the winter of 1757-58, was defeated by the Indians when scouting in

the vicinity of Ticonderoga. The company was dispersed, and Rogers himself was hotly pursued by the savages. He had made a name for himself by his exploits, and they would have danced with unusual glee around him if they could but see him bound to a stake undergoing torture. But he was a man shrewd and ready in expedients. Making his way to the top of the precipice, then called Bald Mountain, but since then named after him, Rogers flung his rifle and accoutrements down the dizzy slope called the Slide, to the ice of the frozen lake below. Then hastily reversing himself on his snowshoes, and treading in his tracks, he made his way to the foot of the Slide, and slid out on the lake. The Indians, coming to the top of the cliff, surmised that he had slipped over the precipice, and concluded that of course he must have been killed. But when they saw him skating away from its base across the lake, they inferred that he was under the special care of the Great Spirit, and refrained from pursuing him. Major Rogers was a man of considerable note in his day. He wrote a narrative of his adventures with the rangers around Lake George, and afterward fought at Detroit, and composed a curious drama about the siege of Detroit, and Pontiac, the Indian chief. Unfortunately, when the Revolution broke out, Major Rogers sided with the crown.

Echo Bay, formed by a beautiful and abrupt promontory jutting out from Rogers's Rock, is a most charming spot, noted, as the name indicates, for its echoes. Inclosed by massive cliffs and leafy underwood, its waters are at once deep and limpid. The rambles up the steep sides of the rock have a singularly wild solitude and picturesqueness, and are well appreciated by the partridges and squirrels. One is often greeted there by the whirring drum of the former and the shrill bark of the latter.

There is a simplicity and a grandeur in the beauty of this part of Lake George which allies it to some of the European lakes. The outlines are drawn with a firm hand in long unbroken curves, and the eye is occupied with masses rather than with details, while the height of the shores and the absence of islands make it seem like the bowl of a vast sunken crater into which the sea has poured. In the distance, far away to the south, the faint lilac-tinted outline of Black Mountain re

lieves the grand sweep of Anthony's Nose, and gratefully appeals to the fancy. In no part of Lake George is the water more beautifully blue. Thus the lake appears

from the promontory alluded to above. But on descending to the water, and following the shore of the lake to its extreme northern limit, it shows still another phase.

Passing Coates Point, we find that the hills recede, and that another geological formation shows a beach different from any other on the lake, while the ripples that curl on the sand indicate that the water is there somewhat colored by the clay against which it dashes, and assumes a pale creamy green. It was on that

Here Lake George

beach that Lord Abercrombie landed his army. Not far from it is an islet called Prisoners' Island, on which the English who were captured in the battle that followed were confined. terminates as a lake. But through a narrow winding course of four miles farther it seeks to pour its waters into those of Lake Champlain, dashing down in musical rapids, which caused the French to call the meeting of the waters Carillon. There in the forest still stand the earthworks which Abercrombie vainly sought to storm. Lord Howe and. 2000 men fell on that memorable day, whose sadness was but partially effaced by the victory of Lord Amherst in the following year. Just beyond are the ruins of Fort Ticonderoga, overlooking Lake Champlain. The fortress is one of the most interesting spots on the continent. A thorn bush, covered with blood-red berries, on the beetling brow of one of the salient angles, is the only semblance of a banner left waving there now, and the cattle and sheep browsing on the herbage within the glacis around the roofless quarters of the garrison plainly tell us that war has rung its clarion for the last time on those ramparts where Montcalm and Amherst, Ethan Allen and Arnold, St. Clair and Burgoyne, have in turn battled and held sway.

He who has not seen Lake George should no longer defer to cultivate its acquaintance, while he who has once formed a friendship for its attractive beauty feels that he has stored his memory with an enduring treasure of lovely pictures that shall cheer him along the dusty road of life, and lead him to return often to behold the glorious original of his dreams.