New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1851-09-11
SUMMER NOTES OF A HOWADU.
LAKE GEORGE
# The y Y Tribune.

CouestOndonce # The y Tribune.
AUGUST 26, 1851.
NY DEAR EDIroR II was an August
moonlight upon Lake George, and we were
watching the water over the low trees IN the
garden, when the Empress said to me Now,
is IT not more beautiful than Como" 1t was an
unfortunate question, because the lake OF Como
is the most beautiful lake that the traveller sees,
and because the details Of comparison were IN
.tanily forced upon my mind
Lake George Is a simple mountain lake upon
the verge of the wilderness. You ascend from
IT'S banks westward and plunge into an un-
settled region. The hills that frame the water
are low, and when not bare for fires frequently
consume many miles of wood land on the hill
SIDES, covered with the stfy outlined, dark and
cold foliage OF the evergreens. Among these are
no signs of life You might well fancy the popu.
lace of the primeval forest yet hsding those re-
treats You might still dream IN the twilight
that II were not impossible to catch the ring of
French or English rifle or the wild whoop of the
Indian sure that the landscape you see was
that they saw and their remotest ancestors
From the water rise the rocks, sometimes soil
iary and bearing single tree, sometimes massed
into bowery island. The boat-boys count the
isles Of the lake 10y the days of the year, and tell
YOU of three hundred and sixty-tve Ii Is story
agreeable enough to hear, but wearsome when
you are RECALLED with the same AT every pretty
stretch of islanded water In the late afternoon
or by moonlight /, is pleasant TO skim the quiet
water 20 the little Tea-island which has a tree
/ /, ,l. L..
ruined temple to T. But whether Bohea or Gun
powder or some more mysterious divinity, the
boat-boys reluct to say, and YOU must rely upon
fancy TO suggest only know that as we pushed
aside the branches that overhang the cove and
climbed the island and the temple, we had no
sooner set foot upon Its floor and gazed lstlessly
forth over the lake, which the moon enchanted,
than the slow beat of oars pulsed through the
twilight and directly across the moon pavenp path
of the water sho, skifi with female figures only.
The throb of oars approached, and voices singing
unsteady mingled with the beat. The boat
drove silently into the black shadow of the cove,
the singing ceased, and hushed tumult OF low
laughter trembled through the trees. For that
momen, was a South-sea islander, 1'ypeean,
a Herman Melville, and down the ruined steps |
spIang TO catch moonlight glimpse of Fayaway,
but saw only the ripping brllhance OF the rapidly
aiding boat Therefore know not what forms
hey were, nor the moonlight mysteries OF Lake
George nor OF the little T island
What 'eaf.frnged legend haunts abouiihy shape
OF peltes or Mortals, or of both"
Another day we spread our sails and flew four
miles up the lake TO Diamond Island 1t has a
little stony beach, on which crystals are found,
and here also are runs, but OF nothing more
stable than ROBIN Hoods temples faded
bower. spacious enough for the pavilion Of the
loveheS, May.Queen, and romantic enough 10
serve as trap for fancy to catch reverleS, Is
The ruin OF the Island The brisk wind that
blew us rapidly thiiher dropped as il passed the
faded bower and the lake Tapped idly agalns,the
stones, as We embarked for Caldwell We drift
ed homewad IN gusts and Gains, while gor.
geous sunse, streamed from behind the western
mountains
All tins was pleasant, but all tins does not
make a lake as beautiful Como. Here. at
Lake George. Is no variety OF foliage. The sol
,mn eyercreens emphasize the fact OF a wild
pumeval landscape Were there brilliant, full
=.
mono,ony Of hue. OF spring expresses and
domed stone pines to multiply different FORMS or
long reache. Of terraced shore, the melancholy
mono,ony OF impression, which is now 50 promi'
nent, would be alleviaied. The scene Is too sad
and lonely The eye Is tortured 10y the doomed
ranks Of hrs and hemloeks, that descend Ike
resigned martyrs 70 the shore. |, is not sublime
1t is not the perfection Of loneliness, II is not the
best OF It's KIND
We, in the August moonlight the Empress
asked me II II were no, more beautiful than
Lake Como.
Consider Como That strip of water blends
the mos, characteristic Swiss and Italian beauty.
From the dark and awful shadow Of the snow
Alps which brood over its northern extremity,
the lake stretches under waving vines and SHIN
merlng olives chat lock as they grew only by