The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1855-09-05
EASTERN CORRKsPoNpENCE.
WATER Gar. Penn. Aug. 23d. 1s

ASoUOAo, Will COlldlh JOIeiHSS uO"h ~ 0AO
way"
| am still IN statu quo; pavillioned among the
same mountains and hills of which wrote
you week ago. But as 1 then wrote nothing
about the scenery of the place, you will indulge
me little now. My front window overlooks
a charming little valley, stretching in pensive
quietness between elevations of the Delaware,
which CLEANS out here and there, in the distance,
its silvery waters simmering in tbs sun rays
like FURNISHED mirror. My side window
gives me fair view of the Jersey side Of the
Blue Ridge, by casting my eye back upon
which, behold the gorgeous and sublime
chasm through which the waters pass, kissing,
with kind Of alteration, the feet (better than
the Popes toe,) of Kittatinny, or, "endless noun
tains,'' as the Indian name imports-as they
pass in tribute to the everlasting ocean-em-
blem of the eternity into which all life's rivers
increasingly flow.
There are some ten square miles of earth,
that are worth voyage over the Atlantic to
gaze upon; and l cannot help re-echoing a SEN
timent that others have uttered before me, that
it is burning shame that so many Americans
lavish money, and time, and adulation in for
eign travel, and beholding European scenery,
when they know absolutely nothing of the
glorious scenery of their own land. lam well
acquainted with gentleman who has recently
Travelled much and extensively in Europe, who
affirms that there is no more beautiful scenery,
no more to awaken the reverence of natures
student there than in our own United States.
That there is here, "a set off, for everything
that is grand or peculiar there, upon the princi-
pie, that if we have no Vesuvius, we have a
Niagara that can put it out in minute.
But to 'the Gap" 1t is a thing of beauty
and ofmystery. Ofmystery-for here is a ire
mendous mountain chain abruptly broken, or
cleft through, as if for no other purpose than to
form passage for the river; the country above
the Gap bearing indications of formerly having
been the bed of lake. In many places,
exceedingly steep, ragged hills, terminating at
their base with sweep of bottom land, as level
as floor. The questions then arise: Was
there once lake here? What was its extent?
How was this thorough-fare of waters made?
Did the waters wear, or wash their way thro',
or was it accomplished suddenly, by some
mighty CONFUSION of nature? These are ques-
tons which every observer, and particularly
every geological adept, would naturally ask;
and to me it seems evident, that the rent was
made by some violent conclusion of nature
The mountains are obviously volcanic, and
they have here been heaved up and apart, by
subterranean action---in plain English, it is the
the work of an earthquake.
But now for the beauty of the thing. You
must not regard the topography of the place as
constituted by single long range of noun
tains. For miles below, the river is edged
with the widest kind of rocky scenery. These
parts are a kind of general rendezvous very
congress of Hills and Mountains; among which,
when first rate thunder storm reverberates
and rattles, there is eloquence enough to awe
the most phlegmatic mind into attention and
sublime reverence. And then, such an ever
lasting showing of themselves! They are OF
'our best society,"" "the most aristocratic,
| 'the upper crust" changing their habiliments
every day and, as many times in day as the
most fastidious Potiphar in all upper tendom'
There is their dressing gown of mist, their
breakfast robe covered over with sun-kisses
their dress to receive calls in, and then their
full dinner toilet when the day god b les them
in glowing warmth and light and so on until
evening comes on, spreading over all its
crimson and purple tapestries and setting a
diadem of light and beauty upon each brow,
and last of all sable darkness creeps up from
below, and they become invisible, with their
night gO,ons on, like any other mortals.
The very clouds here, of themselves, are a
study. Sometimes they are above you, some
times below; now chasing up the hills and
now down. Here gathered beautiful and
white and soft, as if Angels were embodied in
sweet repose, and there black and harsh as i
the very Cyclops were at work; one hour a
wreath of subtle mist crowns solitary peak,
another hour and it stretches in dense dark
folds over long extent of mountain, joining
earth and sky in mysterious union; now Grim
son, now golden, now, as they reflect the trees
all emerald, now snowy, now pitchy black
In short, there is an ever changing, and end
less variety; look when you will, there is some
thing unique before your vision.
No one sees ''the Cap from any one point
any more than he sees Niagara from Terrepin
rock or the town. The most impressive view
is undoubtedly from the river, as your rover