not only as New Orleans and Natchez, but to the mouth of the Ohio, show this.  It must be evident to every one who takes the trouble to examine the phenomena, that an arm of the gulf anciently extended to this point; and that the Ohio, the Arkansas, Red River, and other tributaries of the present day, as well as the main Mississippi, had at that epoch entered this ancient arm of the gulf.  I landed at the light-house at the Balize.  We had to walk on planks supported by stakes in the water.  A sea of waving grass rose above the liquid plain, and extended as far as the eye could reach.  About twelve or fourteen inches depth of water spread over the land.  A light-house of brick or stone, formerly built on this mud plain, east of the main pass, had partially sunk, and hung in a diagonal line to the horizon, reminding the spectator of the insecurity of all solid structures on such a nascent basis.  The present light-house was of wood.  It was evident, however, that here were deposited millions of acres of the richest alluvion on the globe, and in future times another Holland may be expected to be rescued from the dominions of the ocean.  As we passed out into the gulf, another evidence of the danger of the channel met our view, in the wreck of a stranded vessel.  The vast stain of mud and alluvial filth extended for leagues into the gulf.  As the vessel began to take the rise and swell of the sea, I traversed the deck diligently, and, by dint of perseverance in keeping the deck, escaped sea-sickness.  I had never been at sea before.  When the land had vanished at all points, and there was nothing in sight but deep blue water around us and a sky above, the scene was truly sublime; there was a mental reaction, impressing a lesson of the insignificance of man, which I had never before felt.

We passed the Gulf of Florida, heaving in sight on one side, as we passed, of the Tortugas, and, on the other, of the Mora Castle of Havana, after which there was little to be noticed, but changes in the Gulf Stream, fishes, sea-birds, ships, and the constant mutations from tempests to the deep blue waters of a calm, till we hove in sight of the Neversinks, and entered the noble bay of New York.

It was the third of August when I reached the city, having stayed out my quarantine faithfully on Staten Island, the mineralogy and geological structure of which I completely explored during that period of municipal regimen—­for it was the season of yellow fever, and there was a rigid quarantine.  Dr. Dewitt, the health officer, who had known my father, received me very kindly, and my time wore off imperceptibly, while I footed its serpentine vales and magnesian plains.

On reaching the city, I fixed my lodgings at a point on the banks of the Hudson, or rather at its point of confluence with the noble bay (71 Courtland), where I could overlook its islands and busy water craft, ever in motion.