Rochester is well known to all who take an interest in America, as a remarkable instance of what may be done in the way of transition, and as exhibiting in its streets a perfect sample of the progress from stumps to steeples.  It is certainly an interesting place, and presents a busy scene of manufacturing and commercial enterprise.  My time being limited, I immediately procured a cicerone, and proceeded to walk over the town, concluding with the banks of the river, where there is a powerful fall upon the Genesee, about 90 feet in height, forming a most romantic scene, and which may be fairly denominated the parent of Rochester, as the mill power which it supplies has brought the whole affair into existence.  There are also sulphur springs and baths in the town of some repute.

A splendid aqueduct carries the canal here across the river by ten arches.  It is also at present in contemplation to unite the Genesee and Alleghany rivers, by a canal of more than 100 miles in extent, and which would open up a valuable trade with the upper part of the Ohio Valley.  I have no doubt that it will be carried into effect, or perhaps a railroad substituted.  Close upon the verge of the precipice at the fall, is observed a small islet or green knoll, from whence poor Sam Patch took his final plunge.  Sam, it would seem, was no subscriber to the tenets of the Temperance Society, for upon this occasion his perceptions were far from being clear; and having neglected to spring in his usual adroit style, the unlucky wight never again appeared.  The interest which this poor creature excited, both here and at Niagara, was astonishing.  His very exit (than which nothing could be more natural) was considered somewhat mysterious, as his body was not found; and some time subsequent to the event, a fellow of a waggish disposition happening to be accidentally in that part of the country, and bearing, it is said, a singular resemblance to Patch, was stopped by a Rochester-man on the road, and questioned on the subject.  The stranger immediately saw a fair opening for fun, and, after some hesitation, reluctantly confessed that he was actually Sam himself; but that, for particular reasons, his being alive must be kept a profound secret, until a day he named, when he would make a public appearance in Rochester, and that he trusted to the fidelity of the person who had discovered him not to mention the circumstance, meantime, to any living being. As a matter of course, it was speedily confided, in like manner, to the whole population; and on the appointed day, crowds assembled to laugh at the credulity of one another.  A poor tradesman of the town had taken wilfully the same fatal leap, only on the day preceding my visit.  Many of the poor Indians are lost over the fall, when rum has been in plenty.  A squaw was observed upon one occasion, with her canoe absorbed in the current, and she herself utterly insensible to the danger.  Warned at last by loud exclamations from the banks, she roused herself, only to behold the frightful chasm before her, when, perceiving all hope of escape to be vain, and every effort fruitless, she coolly finished off the contents of her bottle, and plunged into the abyss.—­See Quart.  Journ.  Agric. No. 18.