miles further.
The farmers in our Mohawk Valley ought to pass through this gloomy,
chilly, misty country, and be shamed into a better improvement of their
rare but misused advantages.

Traveling is useful in that it gives us a more vivid idea of the immense
amount of knowledge we yet lack. I supposed till to-day that, by virtue
of a Scotch-Irish ancestry (in part) and a fair acquaintance with the
works of Walter Scott, Burns, Hogg, &c., I knew the Lowland Scotch
dialect pretty thoroughly; and yet a notice plainly posted up, "This Lot
To _Feu_," completely bothered me. On inquiry, I learned that _to feu_ a
lot means to let or lease it for building purposes--in other words, to
be built upon on a ground-rent. I suppose I learned this years ago, but
had entirely forgotten it.

The Clyde, though a fair stream at Glasgow, is quite narrow for twelve
to fifteen miles below that city, seeming hardly equal to the
Connecticut at Hartford, or the Hudson at Waterford; but then it has a
good tide, which helps the matter materially, and has at great expense
been dredged out so as to be navigable for vessels of several hundred
tuns. We passed a fine American packet-ship with a very wholesome
looking body of Scotch emigrants, hard aground some ten miles below
Glasgow, and I was informed that a large vessel, even though towed by a
steamboat, is seldom able to get down into deep water upon a single
tide, but is stopped half way to wait for another. This river fairly
swarms with small steamboats, of which there are regular lines
connecting Glasgow with Londonderry, Belfast, Dublin, Fleetwood
(north-west of England), Liverpool, London, &c. We met four or five
boats returning from Excursion parties crowded with the better paid
artisans and laborers of Glasgow, their wives and children.

The banks of the Clyde for some miles below Glasgow are low and marshy,
much of the intervale being devoted to pasturage, while a rude
embankment has been interposed on either side, consisting of stones of
five to fifty pounds each, intended to prevent the washing away of the
banks by the ripple raised by the often-passing steamboats. The end is
fairly though not cheaply subserved. As we descend, the shores become
bolder; the rugged hills, at first barely visible on the right, come
near and nearer the water: low rocks begin to lift their heads above the
surface of the stream, while others have their innate modesty
overpowered by wooden fixtures lifting th