May 5.—I had quite a treat to-day— have been with a party, horseback riding, to the top of Lookout Mountain. I do not know how many feet its elevation is, but the road we took was four miles from the base. It is a made one, and many parts of it is cut out of solid rock; some portions are very narrow, and it made me quite nervous and giddy to look back.
“Now wound the path its dizzy ledge
Around a precipice’s ledge;
Sometimes in dizzy steps ascending,
Sometimes in narrow circuit bending,
Sometimes in platform broad extending,
Its varying circuit did combine.”
When we reached the summit, the view from it was really entrancing.
We sat on the Point of Rocks, which is the furtherest point of the mountain, under the shade of some magnificent trees. The scene presented below was one of the most beautiful pictures I ever beheld. The Tennessee River, with its various windings, made the plain beneath look like many islands, on which were
“Deep waving fields and pastures green,
With gentle slopes and groves between.”
We sat for some time in perfect silence; I was completely awed; I thought of our Savior when he preached his memorable “sermon on the mount.” I am afraid we have not profited much by it, or we would not be as we are now.
I am told that on a clear day, with a good glass, seven states can be seen from the top of this mountain.
As we came down, a Mr. Chandler, who was with us, took us to a natural stone bridge, which was about a hundred feet high. A very fine spring of water gushed from the side of the rocks forming this bridge, making a perfect waterfall. The whole scene was like fairy land. I do not think that Switzerland or Scotland has any finer scenes than we have here. Had this country only poets to sing her beauties, I have no doubt they would be as famous as any in the old world.
