Music — Poetry — Fiction 



fication of His power who poured it " from the hollow of his 1834 

 hand." You tremble at its feet. With a great voice of thunder ' 8 ° u 

 it warns you not to approach. The winds spread out their wings, 

 and whelm you in a deluge of spray. You are sensible of the 

 giant force of the tide, bearing up the boat, which like an egg- 

 shell is tossed upon its terrible bosom. You feel like an atom in 

 the great creation of God. You glance at the athletic sinews of 

 the rowers, and wonder if they are equal to their perilous task. 

 But the majesty of the surrounding scene annihilates selfish appre- 

 hension ; and, ere you are aware, the little boat runs smoothly to 

 her haven, and you stand on the Canadian shore. 



Hitherto, all you have seen will convey but an imperfect 

 impression of the grandeur and sublimity that are unfolded 

 on the summit of Table-Rock. This is a precipice nearly 

 160 feet in height, with flat, smooth, altar-shaped surface. As 

 you approach this unparapeted projection, the unveiled glories 

 of Niagara burst upon the astonished senses. We borrow the 

 graphic delineation of a gentleman, 1 who nearly forty years since 

 was a visitant of this scene, and thus describes it from the summit 

 of Table-Rock. 



" On your right hand, the river comes roaring forward with 

 all the agitation of a tempestuous ocean, recoiling in waves and 

 whirlpools, as if determined to resist the impulse which is forcing 

 it downward to the gulf. When within a few yards, and appar- 

 ently at the moment of sweeping away, it plunges headlong into 

 what seems a bottomless pit, for the vapour is so thick at the foot 

 of the precipice, that the torrent is completely lost to view. 



"Seen from the Table-Rock, the tumbling green waters of the 

 rapids, which persuade you that an ocean is approaching; the 

 brilliant colour of the water; the frightful gulf, and headlong 

 torrent at your feet; the white column rising from its centre, and 

 often reaching to the clouds; the black wall of rock frowning 

 from the opposite island; and the long curtain of foam descend- 

 ing from the other shore, interrupted only by one dark shaft, form 

 altogether one of the most beautiful, as well as awful, scenes in 



1 Dr. Wadsworth, Esq. 717 



