the whirlpool of Charybdis. In its rapid march along the Atlantic coast, it throws up those volumes of sand which form a natural embankment, that attracts the eye of the voyager by a silvery whiteness, scarcely relieved by the faint verdure of the mangrove and the palmetto. If, from the aspect of the coast, we direct our attention to the face of the country, and advance from the extremity of the peninsula to the northern boundary of Florida, we first pass over a region which looks as if it had been just recovered from the ocean. Within the banks of sand that skirt the coast, the fresh waters repose amid the grasses they nourish in endless plains, until the rainy season, when they swell into almost impassable floods. The Indians, when these waters are up, never attempt to cross the peninsula but in canoes. Of this region, the greater part has never been visited. by civilized man. The only exploration was made by an expedition in 1823. The detachment literally waded through trackless swamps and grassy seas, during the greater part of their journey; and, in crossing the peninsula, must have been overwhelmed, if the attempt had been made a few days later; the water, at the time of their passage, being almost beyond their depth. Such regions must be left in the undisturbed occupancy of the alligator and the mosquito, and their only moral use may be, to teach man that other sensitive existences, besides himself, are the care of Providence, and the objects of its diffusive bounty. These flooded prairies probably terminate to the South of a line drawn between Tampa Bay and Cape Carnaveral, for, midway between these points, a ridge begins to swell, which gradually rises as it proceeds North through the middle of the peninsula, till it attains the heighth of 87 feet between the Amaxura and the Ocklaway rivers. It divides the streams that run to the East and the West, gradually sloping off each way. As it advances towards the head-waters of the St. Mary's, it rises in heighth, until, at that point, it attains to an elevation of 150 feet above the level of the sea. It may be considered the back-bone of the peninsula. This eminence also stretches from the head-waters of the St. Mary's, along the Georgia and Alabama line, the whole length of the western province. At some points, it attains the heighth of 200 feet. It is a broad ridge or high plain, which gradually declines towards the Gulf of Mexico. The general character of these ridges consists of a sandy soil and a growth of pine: but throughout, are interspersed tracts of the very choicest land of every variety, of clay of diversified depths, most generally based on a foundation of stratified rotten limestone. These are the mines of the terri tory. Their riches are indicated by the lofty and magnificent trees which cover them, or by the impervious cane-brakes which yield only to the action of fire. Under the pine forests, more than two feet of vegetable soil are often found, The oak and hickory lands are of a stiff clay, striking at least ten or twelve feet down. These forests are generally free from underwood. But the choicest land is what is designated as hammoc; and is distinguished into high and low. Here the magnolia, the dogwood, the chesnut, the live-oak, the cherry and the water-oak, stretch their lofty trunks and spread their wide arms over the canes which seem to emulate in heighth the lesser trees. These trees are a proof of the vigour of the soil; whose basis is a rich black or red clay, supporting the fine mould above the droppings of the vegetations of ages. It possesses an inexhaustible fertility: its depth has not yet been reached, and may not be for centuries. This chequered soil, from the exhaustless fertility of the hammocs to the sterile wastes and pine barrens that encircle them, appears to be one of the mysteries of nature. The transitions are so sudden that as yet their cause has baffled inquiry. They seem scattered like fairy favours. They surprise the traveller suddenly in the midst of the extensive pine forests, which generally cover the whole ridge, like islands in the midst of a boundless ocean. The pine forests have all the monotony of the sea, of which they remind us, not only by an uniform scene and the dull ideas it generates, but by the healthy breezes which they breathe, and the free riches they hold; teeming with endless pastures and with an inexhaustible growth for timber and fuel. The forest scenery of the rich lands is eminently striking. The oak and hickory restrained, by the thickness of the woods, from spreading wide, their branches shoot up into lofty columns of fifty and one hundred feet. No underwood impedes the vision or entangles the foot. The traveller treads on a carpet, "where the violet, crocus and hyacinth, with rich inlay broider the ground;" while the breezes, loaded with no sickly moisture, course freely over his head. As he approaches the hammocs, his journey is impeded by the impervious thickets of cane, but his eye is relieved by the magnificence of the magnolias that tower so high above them. The loftiness of this tree is crowned with the beauty of the flower; and to add to its picturesque effect, from the highest arms depend long vines, like the shrouds of a ship of the line. In this "boundless contiguity of shade"-this night in the midst of day-the world and its vanities are shut out, and man feels at once his littleness and his greatness. The dread magnificence of nature only humbles to exalt him. He falls prostrate before its mighty author, but gathers strength from his humility, and feels, as his thoughts expand and his bosom glows, the grandeur of his being and the mysteriousness of his destiny. Already has the hand of agriculture prostrated many of the ancient tenants of the forest, and swept away the cane-brakes, and driven out their inmåtes, the deer, the bear, and the cat before a whirlwind of flame. These fires, on the edge of a forest, give a new beauty to its scenery as night advances. First a distant gleam breaks upon the eye; then the blaze spreads until its light penetrates the gloom sufficiently to define the outline of the woods, and to hold up to the darkness the bodies, the limbs, and the foliage of the trees. In the absence of artificial fires, the forests glow with innumerable shooting stars. They cross each other and thicken until they even illuminate the path of the lover of nature, and furnish him with a friendly light. "The insect youth are on the wing;" nor can any thing be more expressive of intense delight than the gyrations and scintillations of the fire-fly. The ridge, of which we have been speaking, though generally level, is occasionally varied by inequalities of surface. Amid gentle eminences and slopes we sometimes meet with abrupt descents or dens, known by the name of sinks! Lakes of transparent water are also scattered over the country. Several streams take their rise in this ridge, and seek their way to the gulf; but in their progress often disappear beneath the surface, and afterwards break out again in their course. The lakes are either fed by springs or are openings through which hidden streams show themselves in their passage, like the fountain of Paradise. .6 "For God had thrown "That mountain as his garden mould high raised These lakes breathe only health and beauty. They adorn the landscape without tainting the atmosphere. In the noontide heat of summer they never stagnate, but refresh the senses with vernal airs and liquid murmurings. They were, no doubt, often resorted to to revive the traveller oppressed with an almost tropical heat; and by the aid of romance, the virtue of conferring perpetual youth was ascribed to one of them. There are other lakes of a larger size, such as Lake Jackson, which, by the extent and limpidness of their waters, and the forest scenery on their borders, remind the visitor of the beautics of the lesser lakes of New-York. VOL. VI.—No. 12. 53 The St. John's, the Suwanee and the Apalachicola, are the principal rivers of Florida. There are various others which run from Georgia and Alabama to the gulf, contributing, at the same time, to the fertility of the soil and the convenience of navigaAlmost all those that discharge themselves into the gulf, are obstructed by shoals at their mouths. From Vacassar Bay, where the Suwanee finds an outlet to the Ockloconee, the coast is skirted by a ridge of oyster shells, through which the streams, as they seek the ocean, have made partial openings. These may be susceptible of some extension, and if that at the mouth of the Suwanee could be permanently enlarged, the proposed canal, of which we are about to speak, could be terminated here at an expense which might ensure its construction, which a longer route would probably hazard. The St. John's has more the appearance of a sound than a river, and, unlike all the other streams in the territory, runs North. It is equally prolific of fish and of alligators; of whose numbers and voracity, Bartram has furnished a lively and terrible picture. The great width of this river, almost up to Lake George, gives it a most imposing appearance; but it derives a new interest from its offering the most feasible natural channel for the inland navigation of the province. The risks of the navigation by the Gulf of Florida early directed public attention to the inquiry, whether an inland passage might not be had across the Peninsula. During the administration of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Gallatin suggested the inquiry into the feasibility of uniting the St. Mary's and the Mississippi, and on the temporary occupation of Florida, by the American troops, in 1818, Mr. Calhoun, the Secretary of War, seized the occasion of directing some partial examinations near the head waters of the St. Mary's and the Suwanee, with the view to inland communication between the Atlantic and the Gulf. On the acquisition of the Territory, an appropriation, after the subject had been often brought to the view of Congress, was at length obtained to defray the expense of the scientific examination of the intervening country. The report of General Bernard, accompanied by a map, which was transmitted to Congress in February, 1829, are now before us. It embraces a topographical and hydrographical description of Florida; the surveys, levellings, and routes of a canal across the Peninsula; the inland navigation of the coast from Tampa to the head of the Delta of the Mississippi, and of improvements through the latter. Many valuable details have been collected; scientific investigations made, and the results well summed up in this report, in relation to the leading object of inquiry. The map, which is well arranged and neatly executed, embodies in an appropriate shape, and gives at once to the eye all the information which has been collected in relation to the canal. It has passed through the hands of General Bernard, a member of the board of internal improvement, whose exile has given to America the aids of that genius and those scientific attainments which were so highly appreciated by the Emperor Napoleon. The amount of the whole is, that a boat canal only could be constructed, at a moderate expense, to unite the St. John's or the St. Mary's with the Suwanee; which by a coastwise navigation could be afterwards connected with New-Orleans and the Mississippi. This is an object which concerns the whole Union. It would facilitate the communication between the East and the West, the Atlantic and the Mississippi, and add a fresh rivet to the chain of interest which binds together the members of our common country. In peace, it would secure from the dangers of the gulf a large portion of that commerce between the Atlantic and the West, which pays so heavy a tribute to the wreckers or the insurers. In war, it would lengthen and complete that chain of inland navigation, for which the long line of Atlantic coast offers such convenient and beautiful facilities. It would be an improvement to which nature invites us, having herself done much; leaving it to art and industry to follow her footsteps and complete her unfinished work. At a moderate expense it might be completed by the United States on their own ground, and within their undisputed pale of appropriation. Neither State nor sectional jealousy could be provoked. A favour would not be forced upon a proud sovereign; and the two great and only interests, the Western and the Atlantic, which here happily amalgamate in a common object, would be mutually benefited. Internal improvement, which has hitherto been the fatal subject of discord, would for once breathe peace and promote union. The St. John's and the Suwanee, though separated by the ridge that divides the waters of the East from those of the West, approach each other through their tributaries, Black Creek and Santa Fe, and the intervening ponds. The St. John's may, by these, be connected with the Suwanee; or, after uniting with the Suwanee, may be linked with the St. Mark's by means of the Auscilla. It would appear from the survey, that there will be no want of water to supply the canals which may be constructed, and that the route, by the St. John's, embraces the greatest line of natural navigation with that by canals. For this reason, and because a shorter canal will be required by the St. John's, the route by this river is preferred to that by the St. Mary's. The Board, however, recommend that St. Mary's harbour should be selected as the mouth of the canal; and that |