musí persons in mis country or in Jïurope who have heard of Lookout Mountain since " the war " have also been told ot the " battle above the clouda." It was my fortune to scale the remarkable palisade at a time when the broad plateau whioh runs along its summit was literally enshrouded in formidable mists. The rain was falling in torrents as, with two oompanions, I galloped through the little town at the foot of the mountain ; but, ere we had sealed the winding road, the shower was over, and a brisk wind began to stir the mists. We could see little but the ledges along whoae sides the route ran, but as we arrived nearly at the summit, the mist curtain was lifted for an instant, and revealed to us a delicious ex panse of valley, with sunlight smiles here and there chasing away the rain's tears. Then we were shrouded. in again, and our horses, apparently inspired by the gloomy grandeur of the occasion, rattled furiously along the hard roads, over which the boughs hung uncomfortably near our heads. The red sandy clay nourishes enormous pines, whose roots have here and there been disturbed by the sandstone bowlders, and stretched out their fibers in a desperate grasp ; along the pathways great of stone, carved by the storms andpolished by the winds, are scattered. We galloped nearly to the massive perpendicular wall which arises directly out of the valley, and disdainfully frowns down upon the Tennessee, spurned from its base fourteen hundred feet below ; and tethering our horses, approached to the very edge. There we seemed shut off from all the world. Now and then a hum from the valley- the faint growl of a locomotive or the rolling of wheels - came faintly up ; we heard the cow-bells and the bleating of the sheep on the hill-sides behind us ; and just as we were trying to imagine how "the battle" must have been, the wind came sweeping away the mist curtain, and - we beheld the whole !- - Edward King ; " tjouthern Mountain Rambles;" Scribner 's for Moy.