Everybody who has heard of American scenery has heard of Lake George. At one time I was afraid I should have to leave the States without having visited the lake of all others which I most desired to see; so many hinderances had fallen in the way of my plans. A few weeks before I left the country, however, I was fortunate enough to be included in a party of four, who made a trip to the Springs and the Lake. It was not in the fashionable season; and for this I was not sorry. I had seen the Virginia Springs and Rockaway in the plenitude of their fashionable glory; and two such exhibitions are enough for one Continent.

It was about noon on the 12th of May when we alighted shivering from the rail-car at Saratoga. We hastened to the Adelphi; and there found the author of Major Jack Downing's Letters, and two other gentlemen, reading the newspapers round a stove. We had but little time to spare; and as soon as we had warmed ourselves, and ascertained the dinner hour, we set forth to view the place, and taste the Congress Water. There is nothing to be seen but large white frame-houses, with handsome piazzas, festooned with creepers,—(at this time only the sapless remains of the garlands of the last season).