two young priests, who a few
years before had fought on opposite sides during the civil strife which
resulted in the preservation of the Great Republic.

A mathematician and astronomer from the Cambridge and also from a
government observatory, who had donned the cassock, gave me much
valuable information in regard to the mountain peaks of Lake George,[A]
which he had carefully studied and accurately measured. Through his
courtesy and generosity I am enabled to give on the preceding page the
results of his labors.

The interesting conversation was here interrupted by the tolling of the
convent bell. A deep silence prevailed, as, with uncovered heads and
upon bended knees, the whole company most devoutly crossed themselves
while repeating a prayer. I felt much drawn towards a young priest with
delicate and refined features, who now engaged me in conversation. He
was an adept in all that related to boats. He loved the beautiful lake,
and was never happier than when upon its mirrored surface, except when
laboring at his duties among the poor of the ninth district of New York.
The son of a distinguished general, he inherited rare talents, which
were placed at his Saviour's service. His Christianity was so liberal,
his aspirations so noble, his sympathies so strong, that I became much
interested in him; and when I left the lake, shortly after, he quietly
said, "When you return next summer to build your cottage, let me help
you plan the boat-house." But when I returned to the shores of Lake
George, after the completion of my voyage to the Gulf of Mexico, no
helping hand was there, and I built my boat-house unassisted; for the
gentle spirit of the missionary Paulist had gone to God who gave it,
and Father Rosencranz was receiving his reward.

When I joined my travelling companion, David Bodfish, he grievously
inveighed against the community of Whitehall because some dishonest
boatmen from the canal had appropriated the stock of pipes and tobacco
he had laid in for his three or four days' voyage to Albany. "Sixty
cents' worth of new pipes and tobacco," said David, in injured tones,
"is a great loss, and a Bodfish never was worth anything at work without
his tobacco. I used to pour _speerits_ down to keep my speerits up, but
of late years I have depended on tobacco, as the speerits one gets
nowadays isn't the same kind we got when I was a boy and worked in old
Hawkin Swamp."

Canal voyaging, after one has experienced the swe