the St. Louis River from the West.  It has a length of seven miles, and is only a few yards in width.  Close to the Wisconsin shore a break occurs in this long narrow spit, and inside this opening lies the harbour and city of Superior incomparably a better situation for a city and lake-port, level, sheltered, capacious; but, nevertheless, Superior City is doomed to delay, while eight miles off its young rival is rapidly rushing to wealth.  This anomaly is easily explained.  Duluth is pushed forward by the capital of the State of Minnesota, while the legislature of Wisconsin looks with jealous eye upon the formation of a second lake-port city which might draw off to itself the trade of Milwaukie.

In course of time, however, Superior City must rise, in spite of all hostility, to the very prominent position to which its natural advantages entitle it.  I had not been many minutes in the hotel at Superior City before the trying and unsought character of land speculator was again thrust upon me.

“Now, stranger,” said a long-legged Yankee, who, with his boots on the stove—–­the day had got raw and cold—­and his knees considerably higher than his head, was gazing intently at me, “’I guess I’ve fixed you.”  I was taken aback by the sudden identification of my business, when he continued, “Yes, I’ve just fixed you.  You air a Kanady speculator, ain’t ye?” Not deeming it altogether wise to deny the correct ness of his fixing, I replied I had lived in Kanady for some time, but that I was not going to begin speculation until I had knocked round a little.  An invitation to liquor soon followed.  The disagreeable consequence resulting from this admission soon became apparent.  I was much pestered towards evening by offers of investment in things varying from a sand-hill to a city-square, or what would infallibly in course of time develop into a city-square.  A gentleman rejoicing in the name of Vose Palmer insisted upon inter viewing me until a protracted hour of the night, with a view towards my investing in straight drinks for him at the bar and in an extensive pine forest for myself some where on the north shore of Lake Superior.  I have no doubt the pine forest is still in the market; and should any enterprising capitalist in this country feel disposed to enter into partnership on a basis of bearing all expenses himself, giving only the profits to his partner, he will find “Vose Palmer, Superior City, Wisconsin, United States,” ever ready to attend to him.

Before turning our steps westward from this inland ocean of Superior, it will be well to pause a moment on its shore and look out over its bosom.  It is worth looking at, for the world possesses not its equal.  Four Hundred English miles in length, 50 miles across it, 600 feet above Atlantic level, 900 feet in depth-one vast spring of purest crystal water, so cold, that during summer months its waters are like ice itself, and so clear, that hundreds of feet below the surface the rocks stand out as distinctly