Indiana is unquestionably destined to become one of the most interesting of the Western States. Its principal towns that stand along on the Ohio, must of course become very important points. This will be particularly the case with New Albany, which is already one of the most populous and flourishing towns in Indiana. It bears on every part of it the marks of a new place, and the manner in which every house and shed within its precincts is crowded, shows that it must have expansion. It is situated about four miles from Louisville, just below the rapids, on a fine broad table of land, which is so far above high water mark, as effectually to secure it from those inundations, occasioned by the sudden rise of the Ohio. Some way back in the rear of the town, and nearly encircling it, rises up in a very picturesque manner, what is here called a knob, an elevated steppe of land, from which we look down upon the town and river, and see them spread out before us as on a map, in distinct and beautiful delineation. Louisville appears in the distance, and the adjacent country, which with the windings, and wooded scenery of the beautiful Ohio, presents a view so exquisite, that the imagination can scarcely conceive any thing more romantic.
It is only three or four years since there were but a handful of inhabitants at New Albany: it now numbers six thousand, and is rapidly increasing in population. A very large proportion of its inhabitants are young, enterprising men from the East, who possess moderate means, and have come here to build up their fortunes. How important to bring such minds under the influence of the Gospel! This is a centre from which influences for good or evil will go forth through the state, and I believe it may be truly said, it is one of those fields that "are white for the harvest."
I met Bishop Kemper at Louisville, on his way to hold an ordination at Madison, another interesting town in Indiana, on the Ohio, between Louisville and Cincinnati. The bishop purposes to devote two or three months between this and autumn to Indiana. He appears indefatigable in his efforts to promote the good cause, and every tongue through the whole west speaks forth his praise, and cheerfully accords to him the high encomium of a zealous, devoted, and holy man. There are now seven or eight Episcopal clergymen in Indiana, and the cry still is, "The harvest is plenteous, but the labourers are few."
Steamboat, Tuesday Evening, June 27th.
It was about three o'clock to-day, that we started on our way from Louisville, down the Ohio. It was excessively hot, and I experienced a languor and sense of exhaustion, which I do not recollect ever before to have felt. When the sun began to decline, and we again found ourselves gliding as by enchantment over the surface, and sweeping through the midst of the beautiful scenery of the Ohio, I felt that I had passed into a new world. As I traversed the deck of the boat, and saw reflected from the smooth and mirror-like bosom of the river, the luxuriant foliage, rich and dark by its own deep verdure—the smooth green bank that sloped down to the water's edge, as though to kiss the smiling surface that slept so quietly below—the abrupt precipitous bluff, starting up like a mound of earth, or a wall of solid masonry—and the head-land sweeping off into sloping woods that towered in majesty above the stream, I could not but feel, and could scarcely refrain from exclaiming aloud, how beautiful and surpassingly lovely are the works of God! What must the heart of that man be made of, who can pass through the midst of such displays of divine beauty, and pollute the very atmosphere as he passes with profanity! This is what hundreds are daily doing. Almost all the hands on board of the steamboats, down even to the little boys, utter an oath almost every other word. Profane swearing is one of the crying sins of this western world. Oaths the most horrid are awfully common among all sorts of people. Amid these scenes of varied beauty where creation appears so lovely we may truly say,
"* * * Every prospect pleases
And only man is vile.
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown."
Men pass here in thousands, and mindless of all these tokens of a wonder-working Deity, continue to live as though there were no God in the Universe, or as if He existed only to afford a theme for more aggravated profanity. And yet looking at the matter, aside from the native depravity of the human heart, one would think that the spontaneous effusion of every intelligent mind whose attention was directed to this scene, would be, as he looked around, "Surely this is the teaching of the mighty God! May lessons be impressed upon my heart by the outspread volumes before me, which no mutations of time, no excitement of passion, no fascinations of the world, no devices of the Evil one will ever efface. Eternal Creator, here among this green, boundless, majestic temple of thy works I renew the consecration of myself to thee, soul, body, and spirit. While these rivers roll their waters towards the sea—while a spear of grass grows in these fields—while a tree on these wooded banks is clothed with foliage in the vernal month—yea, while the solid earth lasts, and the cycles of eternity move on, with thy grace will I live only to serve and glorify Thee."
Wednesday, June 28th.
While we were leisurely sailing along to-day, the weather being oppressively warm, and the heavens very bright and sunny, and not a breath of air stirring, pyramids of snow-white clouds began to be piled up in the northern and western sky. These masses of cloud seemed heaped together in every fantastic form. They towered aloft like huge mountains of snow. What added to the interest and singular appearance of the scene was, that this arch of the snow-pillowed sky sprung directly up from a boundless sea of verdant foliage that stretched interminably around. Through these masses of white cloud, there occasionally appeared large interstices, like deep caverns, opening into the blue profound!—long vistas through which we could seem to catch a view of the inmost heaven. Suddenly a tremendous gale struck us; the waters of the calm Ohio were thrown into the utmost commotion, and the wind came down upon us with a power that threatened to shiver the steamer into a thousand atoms. The heavens gathered blackness, and the whole dark firmament presented a surface every now and then lit up with a sheet of the most vivid fire. The waters ran very high, the wind roared, and the thunder was awful. The captain very prudently sought the shelter of the shore, and our boat was soon fastened by a strong cable to a tree. Then the rain fell in torrents, as though the waters of the river itself were scooped up and poured upon us. We learned that a few days before, not far from where we were, a steamboat had been capsized by a similar flaw of wind. We were soon again on our way, moving beneath a bright and benignant sky, and fanned by a gentle and refreshing breeze. How much our course down this river resembles human life! I cannot stay to make the application, but will only add that they only are wise who seek the shelter of God's presence as a hidingplace till the storm be overpast.
We stopped towards evening to take in wood on the Kentucky shore. We there saw for the first time the native cane-brake. A wood-cutter's hut was near. A little ragged boy came out followed by two large dogs, and a little pet fawn. The dogs seemed to be fond of this little innocent thing, which had been taken only two or three weeks before. It seemed as it skipped along, and played around the footsteps of the child, very affectionate and confiding. Oh! that hardened sinners were transformed into a nature as mild, and gentle, and sweet as this little fawn! The power of Christ through the gospel can alone accomplish this.