necticut river, at Hartford, after a nearly opposite course of about 55 miles, and also dividing the head waters of Pasumsic river from those of the Camoil, it runs up into a high peak in the northeast corner of the state, called the upper Great Mohawk, whence it passes into the province of Lower Canada, and either connects with, or constitutes the height of land which divides this province from the district of Maine. The western ridge continues a northerly course, and is much more elevated, broken, and precipitous than the eastern. In this range are the lofty summits of the Camel's Rump and Mansfield Mountain already noticed. Camel's Rump is situated on the south side of Onion river, from which its summit is distant about five miles; the lower extremities of its base being washed by the river. It lies partially in four townships, the four corners of which, I am informed, meet not far from the top, viz. Duxbury, Huntington, Fayston, and Stooksborough. The pinnacle, I believe, is in Huntington. It is distant from the village of Waterbury about 11 miles, from Montpelier 23 miles, and about the same from Burlington. Mansfield Mountain is situate in the same range, about 20 miles to the north of Camel's Rump. It lies principally in the township of the same name; though the most elevated part (called the Chin) I believe is in Stirling. The eastern side of this mountain, near the top, is rocky, and very precipitous; while on the western, the descent is much more gradual. Its summit is distant from the village of Stowe about 12 miles, from that of Waterbury about 22 miles, and from Montpelier 34 miles. About three miles to the north of the principal summit is the Notch, a narrow passage through the mountain, which nature appears to have designed for a road. A grant has been obtained for a turnpike through this opening, which, when completed, will very much facilitate the intercourse between the people residing on the eastern and western sides. The distance from the village of Stowe, on the eastern, to that of Cambridgeborough, on the op

posite side, as the roads now go, is twen-
ty-seven miles; whereas, through the
Notch, it is only fifteen miles, a difference
worth noticing. To the north of the
Notch, the range again assumes a very
considerable elevation, which it maintains
until it approaches lake Memphramagog,
in the north part of the state, when it
gradually subsides into a plain country,
fronting to the north, and finally termi-
nating near the St. Lawrence, in Canada.
Between the eastern and western ridges
there is an intermediate range, called the
Hog-Back Mountains. This commences
a few miles to the north of Onion river,
and passing through the eastern part of
Stowe, and Morristown, in nearly a north-
ern direction, terminates not far from
Hyde-Park, being about twenty miles in
length. The highest summit appears
quite lofty, I should suppose its altitude
not less than 3000 feet. The western
range of the mountains, I have reason to
believe, commences near Fairfield, in the
state of Connecticut, and thence passing
near Ridgefield, it continues its course
northerly, nearly on the confines of the
states of Connecticut and Massachusetts,
on the east end of New-York; on the west
it forms the western boundary of the val-
ley through which the Housatonic flows,
and constitutes the height of land between
that river and the Hudson. Entering the
state of Vermont near its southwest cor-
ner, it shortly after exhibits Mount An-
thony, a summit of considerable eleva-
tion, between Pownall and Bennington.-
Thence continuing northward, and form-
ing the western boundary of the valley
through which Alten creek flows, it final-
ly terminates near lake Champlain, in
the south part of Addison county. This
range is more broken than the eastern.
The principal summits, besides Mount
Anthony, are in the townships of Sunder-
land, Manchester, Dorset, and Danby;
these are all of considerable elevation.
There is, perhaps, no chain of mountains
in the world of equal extent and elevation,
which contains so little waste land as that
of the Green Mountains, particularly the
eastern range. If we except the high-

est peaks, there is very little of the land
which will not admit of cultivation. It is
a fact, that Wilmington, situated immedi-
ately on the range midway between Brat-
tleborough and Bennington, is one of the
most wealthy agricultural towns in the
state. The number of cattle raised there
is immense, and it is particularly cele-
brated for the quantity and excellence of
its butter and cheese. The passage across
these mountains is generally not difficult.
Commencing near the south line of the
state, and proceeding north, the princi-
pal routes are as follows: 1st, from Brat-
tleborough, on Connecticut river, across
Bennington, a turnpike and stage route,
the road hilly but not difficult; 2d, from
Weathersfield, on Connecticut river,
through Cavendish, across to Clarendon-
a turnpike, and the passage easy; 3d,
from Windsor, on Connecticut river,
across to Burlington, a turnpike and stage
route, not difficult; 4th, from Brookfield,
on the second branch of White river,
through Berlin, across to Montpelier-a
turnpike-not difficult; 5th, from Brook-
field to Montpelier, through the Gulf (so
called)—a turnpike; this is the least
difficult route of the whole. The Gulf
is a remarkable passage through the east-
ern ridge, a height of land (before men-
tioned) which nature appears to have de-
signed for a road. It is formed by the
second branch of White river, which
here almost interlocks with a branch of
Onion river. It is about four miles in
length, lying partly in Brookfield and
partly in Williamstown. The road through
is excellent, and almost entirely level,
while the mountains on each side, nearly
the whole distance, rise more than one
thousand feet in height. The views in
passing are romantic and grand. I went
through here on my tour to the Camel's
Rump. These mountains embosom large
quantities of iron ore, which is worked
to a very considerable extent, particu-
larly in Rutland county. Lime-stone
abounds in Bridgewater, Plymouth, and
some other towns, whence large quanti-
ties of lime are produced, which supply
the country around. The eastern side of

Like the Green

the range is, generally speaking, covered
with a heavy growth of hard timber, con-
sisting of mountain oak, beech, both su-
gar and white maple, birch, elm, and
ash, while on the western side, and also
on the summit, the evergreens, consist
ing of hemlock, spruce, and firs, prevail.
A few of the most elevated peaks only are
destitute of vegetation. The main trunk
of the Moose Hillock range (the great
back bone of the country between Con-
necticut river and the Atlantic) com-
mences at Lyme, in the state of Con-
necticut, and pursuing a northerly course,
forms the eastern boundary of the Con-
necticut river vale, constituting the
height of land between that river and the
Thames, which empties below New-Lon-
don, and its subsidiaries. In its passage
through the states of Connecticut and
Massachusetts, it does not attain any con-
siderable elevation.
Mountain range in the same states, it
admits of cultivation to its summit, and
constitutes a fine tract for grazing. En-
tering the state of New-Hampshire, about
20 miles east from the river, it exhibits,
about 10 miles to the north of the territo-
rial line, the celebrated peak called the
Monadnock, the altitude of which, above
tide-water, as determined by James Win-
throp, Esq. in 1780, is 3254 feet. About
thirty miles further north, is Sunapee
Mountain, altitude, I believe, not known,
and continuing on about fifty miles fur-
ther, we arrive at Moose Hillock, a sum-
mary account of which, as well as its
altitude, I have given in a former com-
munication. From Moose Hillock the
range bears away more to the northeast,
and proceeding on about fifty miles in
that direction, we reach the celebrated
White mountains, which are undoubtedly
the highest on this side the Mississippi.
I made a tour to these mountains in July,
1811, of which I shall take the liberty of
submitting a brief account.

I started from this place on foot, on the morning of the 11th of July, 1811, equipped with my barometer, thermometer, and pocket level, and after a march of two days and a half, rendered fatiguing

!

in consequence of the heat of the wea- we found ourselves on a plain of considerable extent, covered with a species of grass, and exhibiting very much the appearance of a low marshy meadow in the fall, after a large portion of the grass is killed by the frost. Here also are two considerable ponds, at an elevation of about five thousand feet above the sea, the water of which is clear and cold. By the side of the largest of these we ate our dinner, consisting of raw pork, with bread and cheese moistened with plenty of water from the pond. From this plain the pinnacle of Mount Washington rises with majestic grandeur, like an immense pyramid, to the height of about 1600 feet. It is composed almost entirely of huge rocks of granite piled on each other, and finally terminates almost in a point. Having finished our repast, we commenced climbing this pyramid, and in about one hour reached its summit.

ther, and an almost continued repetition of violent showers, I arrived at the house of Capt. Rosebrooks, in Briton woods, on the west side of the range, and about five miles from the celebrated passage through it called the Notch. Here I was obliged to remain, in consequence of the badness of the weather, nearly two days. On the morning of the 15th, however, the weather appeared favourable, and I determined to attempt reaching the summit. I accordingly set out about sunrise, in company with Capt. Rosebrooks' son, as a guide. We followed down the road to within about one mile of the Notch. We then struck off into the woods, to the eastward, directing our course towards the summit of the main ridge, distant about four miles, which we gained by ten o'clock. One mile to the north of the Notch, the ascent was in some parts steep, and in others precipitous, and was rendered more difficult as we approached the summit, in consequence of the firs, which, attaining a height of only three or four feet, and closely interlocking their scrubby boughs, form an almost impenetrable barrier. Before reaching the summit, however, which at this place was elevated 4630 feet above tide water, they entirely vanished, and vegetation was nearly extinct. From this station the towering summit of Mount Washington bore nearly N. N. E. and distant about five miles. To reach it, it was necessary to proceed along the top of the ridge, passing over all the intermediate peaks (four in number) which continually increased in height as we approached the grand pinnacle. We accordingly started a little after ten o'clock, but found our course much impeded by the scrubby firs whenever we descended to the rcgion of vegetation, which was generally the case in passing the hollows intervening between two peaks. At length, after one of the most fatiguing marches I ever endured, alleviated in some degree by the grandeur and sublimity of the prospect, we arrived, about one o'clock, at the foot of Mount Washington. Here

Here we soon found ourselves enveloped in a thick dense mist-the wind blew violently from the west, and the thermometer, which at the foot of the mountain ranged at between 80 and 90°, here fell to 53°. There was also some rain mixed with hail, and a few fleaks of snow. I soon became quite chilly. This was occasioned, however, I presume, in a considerable degree, in consequence of my having got completely drenched in passing through the woods, with the water which fell copiously from the bushes, and also from being in a violent perspiration from fatigue when I reached the top. Having completed my observations, and remained here as long as our time would permit, we commenced retracing our steps down the mountain; but as we were not able, on account of the fog, to distinguish any distant objects, we deviated from the true course, and instead of going down the south side, took a spiral direction round the pinnacle, which brought us to the north side of it near the base. Here the fog dispersed for a few minutes, and enabled us to discover a peak to the south of us, to which we directed our course, and, on gaining its summit, we found ourselves at the

very spot from which we started, viz. seventy miles in a right line. On the on the top of Mount Washington. Thus, north, it is said, the view extends to the after about two hours of wearisome march, country in the vicinity of Quebec, and we were in a situation to begin de novo. to the south and southwest, the range of Our second, however, was more successmountains extends further than the eye ful, and we hastened our return as fast can reach. The Notch is a remarkable as possible. Night, however, overtook passage in the range. It appears designus before we cleared the woods, and ob- ed by nature for a road, without which bliged us to encamp. My companion the people residing on the west side would immediately attempted to light a fire, but be obliged to travel nearly double the his tinder had become so damp, in con- distance they now do to get to market. sequence of his clothes being completely It forms the channel of one branch of saturated with water, that it would not Saco river, which flows easterly into the take fire. I, in the mean time, was busy Atlantic, and almost interlocks with. in collecting fir boughs to make a bed. the head waters of lower Ammonoosuck, On this we reposed ourselves, supperless, which runs westerly to Connecticut after the hardest day's work I ever per- river. The turnpike from Lancaster, in formed in my life. The next morning Vermont) passes through the Notch. At we started as soon as we could see to East Rock, a precipice near New-Haven, travel, and reached Capt. Rosebrooks' similar in appearance to West Rock, about eight o'clock. Here I took break- from which it is about two miles distant, fast, and then took up my line of march commences a range of high ground, for this place, where I arrived on the which takes a direction nearly north18th, considerably worn down with the northeast, and crossing Connecticut river expedition, which was rendered more a few miles below Northampton, in the severe in consequence of my being ex- state of Massachusetts, unites with the posed almost every day to sudden showers main ridge. In this range, shortly after of rain, succeeded by a very hot sun. it passes the river, is situated Mount This produced a kind of slow fever, which Holycke, a place of fashionable resort, hung about me for some time after. The on account of the fine prospect from its whole route was between 180 and 190 summit. At Stonington, in Connecticut, miles. The lower regions of these moun- another range of high ground commences, tains are covered with a thick growth of which runs nearly parallel with the main timber, much of the same description as ridge, and terminates in the state of that which grows on the Green Moun- New-Hampshire. This range, though tains, while the more elevated summits broken, and in some parts entirely disare entirely bald. The rocks are cover- continued, has been considered by some ed with a thick coat of moss, which re- as being independent of the main range, tains the water that fails like a sponge, and constituting one by itself. I think, and gives rise to numberless rills that however, it ought to be considered only descend down the sides. The prospect as a secondary, bearing nearly the same from their summits is extensive and very relation to the principal range as the grand. To the east, a large portion of western range of the Green Mountains, the state of New-Hampshire, and also of already noticed, does to the eastern. To the district of Maine, with their ponds, these observations respecting mountains, lakes and rivers, are in full view, while I shall take the liberty to add the results on the west it is limited only by the of some barometrical calculations I have Green Mountains. Mr. Rosebrooks in- made, which perhaps may be of some use formed me that in a clear morning, be- in illustrating the rise of the country as fore the sun causes the vapours to ascend, we proceed from the level of tide-water the Atlantic can be distinctly seen with to the interior. During the last winter the naked eye, though distant about I calculated the height of my residence

at this place, which is situated on the high grounds, about two miles west from Connecticut river, above tide-water, and found it to be 836 1-3 feet. This result was deduced from a mean of 794 observations made here, and of 2763 made at West-Point, (the height of which above the river I had ascertained) and I may be relied upon as nearly correct. I also calculated the height of my residence above Connecticut river, at Hanover bridge, which I found to be 640 feet, which taken from 886 1-3, leaves 246 1-3 feet for the elevation of the surface of Connecticut river, at Hanover bridge, above tide-water, from which it is distant in the nearest direction about 100 miles; but as the river runs about 160 miles, the descent of the river, therefore, including the falls, of which there are several, is 246 1-3 feet in 160 miles, or 1,537 feet (1 foot 6 1-20 inches) per mile. A more correct idea, however, of the natural descent of the channel may be formed from the following result: Oxford bridge is eighteen miles above Hanover bridge, and no falls intervene. The dif

July was the warmest month, its mean temperature being 70 2-3°-that of August 70°. January was the coldest month, its mean temperature being 14°-that of February 15°. The greatest quantity of snow fell in February, amounting to 38 inches-in January to 23 4-10 inches. The winter of 1811 and 12, was perhaps the coldest ever known in this section of the country. The foregoing results may perhaps afford some data by which to form an estimate of our climate. I have the honour to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

A. PARTRIDGE. Hon. SAML. L. MITCHILL.

Mr. EDITOR,

ference in elevation of the surface of the A brief Inquiry into the Nature of Truth. piver at these two bridges, from the best observations I could make, is fifteen feet, giving a descent of ten inches per mile. The site of the meeting house on Norwich plain, is 172 feet higher than the surface of the river at Hanover bridge (from which it is distant half a mile), and 418 feet above tide-water; and that of the meeting house on Dartmouth College plain, distant from Norwich plain one mile, is 190 feet above the river at the same place, and 436 feet above tidewater. These results, I think, may at least be considered as an approximation to the truth, subject, however, to such correction as repeated observation may point out. I shall conclude this long letter by presenting you with the results of a series of meteorological observations which I made at this place, commencing on the first of July, 1811, and ending the last of April, 1812. They are as follows, viz.

VOL. IV. -No. 11.

17

You will recollect that in the 2d volume of your Magazine, page 281, is a review of the Transactions of the Physico Medical Society, in which the critic has entered into a disquisition, in his survey of the first article in that work, on the signification of the word Truth. In the enclosed letter, which I received from a friend, are some objections to that review, which, if you think they will be acceptable to your readers, you will please to publish. I offer the remarks of my correspondent at this late period, upon the authority of one of the parties concerned, that "truth is ever one and the same," and may therefore be as successfully sought at this, as at that, or any former time. It is presumed that no apology will be required for again introducing

* This denotes that the thermometer was 81 below cypher.