The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1860-11-28
V-NO "
NO. 215.
New York Correspondence.

New York Correspondence.
Own, SENECA Co., N. Y. Nov. 15, go.
DEAR COLONEL: In my last had got as
far as Geneva. After stroll of two hours
through that quiet, rich and beautiful town
including a visit to the almost deserted
building Of the Medical College where W.
once, eighteen years ago, earned and re.
ceivcd the coveted parchment, VIC took
passage up the lake on board the neat little
steamer s. T. Arnot. We could not help
but contrast the Arnot " ith the old War
Eagle or Key City Of the Upper Mississippi,
either of which might carry one such steam.
or as the Arnot lying across her toward
deck, another swung up on each side, and
tow four more aud still make pretty good
time. Yet the little steamer swung out in
to the clear blue waters of the lake and
soon proved that although small there was
no lack Of speed. At each stroke of the
engine we could feel the whole boat jar, and
it seemed to almost bound along over the
surface Of the water. The tall spires and
heavy blocks Of buildings soon began to
rccede from our view; next the beautiful
residences along the high banks, with their
terraced and trelliscd gardens and walls
reaching quite down to the waters edge,
and last, the many little boat houses along
the shore. The afternoon was bright and
clear, and the beautiful scenery of the
shores Of green fields, and houses and
woodland, attracted universal attention.
To any one Travelling this way for the first
time, the first few hours ride is always a
rich treat, and it is not unsual for some sem
tinental individual to be caught while look
ing upon the calm and beautiful landscape,
and upon the bright and clear blue waters
of the lake, repeating the lines of the poet,
"On thy fair bosom. silver lake,
The wild swan sprvads her snowy sail"
We looked in vain for the "swans" of
poetry; the lake was there in all its purity
and beauty, but instead Of swans We only
saw the white gulls and wild ducks of
prose.
"The waters Of this lake are remarkably
clear and pure their temperature is very
even-scldom becoming very warm in sum,
mer or freezing in winter. The country
around is most beautiful and productive
farming region. 1t has been brought to
this high state of cultivation within COM
parativcly short period, the time being with
in the memory of men when its banks were
covered with forests, in a primeval state :
The earth is still fresh on the grave of the
man who plowcd the first furrow on its
banks. Had Percival, whose pen has rem
dered the subject Of my letter classical, Wis
tied the scene Of his beautiful lyric at this
early day, he would probably not have
sung:
Con thy fair bosom. silver lake,
o. could ever sweep the oar,
Where carly birds at morning wake
And evening tells Us toll is DER"
His emotions Of sublimity would have
vanished and his Imagination Jagged be-
fore those stern realities- tomahawks and
scalpng knives. The signing Of the breeze,
the roar of the waves, or the rushing of the
fall would not have impressed him 50
very POLITICALLY, had he been listening for
the war-whoop of cnragcd savagcs. It's
waters would not have appeared to him so
silvery beautiful had he mistrusted scene
of barbarous disaster-his goods plundered,
his dwelling in flames, or his children
slaughtered. Instead Of ell-conducted
farms and smiling homes, he would have
found-oncc in five miles-a log hut, scarce
ly out Of the way of falling trees; and in.
stead Of peace and plenty within, compa.
ny Of squalid sufferers. Ho would hav,
found husbands, to save their wives and
children from starvation, digging up their
potatoes, which, but week before they
had planted among oaken stumps. IL,
would have found community withou,
the cultured joys of ripe society"
But great part of the forests have dis.
appeared. This wilderness of beauty has
become scene Of cheerful industry. Thrift
and enterprise have made their legible i'm.
press on the brow of every hill. Its waters
clear as crystal, which echoed only ths
scream Of the waterfowl, the shout Of tn,
sporting sa7age, or the paddle Of the ligh
canoe, have become vocal with tho glad
song of enlightened freedom; the name Of
Lafayette, and Patrick Henry, and Wash
ington, have rung their electic chorus; chris
tianity has lent her Ia lowed melody, and
to-day, all that can minister to peoples
happiness joins in the rejoicing song which
from hill, and valley, and forest, and lake
arises over it, as mists Of morning from its
BOSOM"
Afera an hours ride we landed on the east
side of the lake, and taking the stage W.
found ourselves, after ride of three miles
at the village Of Ovid. This village con-
tains population Of about eight hundred
and is adorned by the Court House, tht
buildings of the Seneca Collegiate institute
and other public edifces. 1t is situated or
the high land or dividing ridge between thu
Seneca and Cayu uga lakes, three miles from
the Seneca and six miles from the Cayuga
and is six hundred feet above them.-
The steamboats, which pass on each of these
lakes arc distinctly seen from here, and the
village as seen from the lakes is uncommon
ly picturesque and beautiful. The waters
Of the Seneca Lake never freeze over, and