"
DRYDEN.
What changes a few years make in places! That spot over which the Indians
roved, free of all control, is now a large and wide-spreading town. Those
glorious old trees are fast fading away, the memory only of them remains to
some of the first settlers, who saw them twenty-five years ago, shadowing
the now open market-place; the fine old oaks have disappeared, but the
green emerald turf that they once shaded still remains. The wild rushing
river still pours down its resistless spring floods, but its banks have
been levelled, and a noble bridge now spans its rapid waters. It has seen
the destruction of two log-bridges, but this new, substantial, imposing
structure bids fair to stand from generation to generation. The Indian
regards it with stupid wonder: he is no mechanic; his simple canoe of birch
bark is his only notion of communication from one shore to another. The
towns-people and country settlers view it with pride and satisfaction,
as a means of commerce and agricultural advantage. That lonely hill, from
which Catharine viewed the rapid-flowing river by moonlight, and marvelled
at its beauty and its power, is now the Court-house Hill, the seat of
justice for the district,--a fine, substantial edifice; its shining roof
and pillared portico may be seen from every approach to the town.
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