Niagara Falls 



1858-61 of waters may fall down, down at once into a hell of rivers, for 

 ro °P e what the eye can see. It is glorious to watch them in their first 

 curve over the rocks. They come green as a bank of emeralds, 

 but with a fitful, flying colour, as though conscious that in one 

 moment more they would be dashed into spray and rise into air, 

 pale as driven snow. The vapour rises high into the air, and is 

 gathered there, visible always as a permanent white cloud over 

 the cataract; but the bulk of the spray which fills the lower 

 hollow of that horseshoe is like a tumult of snow. This you 

 will not fully see from your seat on the rail. The head of it 

 rises ever and anon out of that caldron below, but the caldron 

 itself will be invisible. It is ever so far down — far as your 

 imagination can sink it. But your eyes will rest full upon the 

 curve of the waters. The shape you will be looking at is that 

 of a horseshoe, but of a horseshoe miraculously deep from 

 toe to heel; and this depth becomes greater as you sit there. 

 That which at first was only great and beautiful, becomes 

 gigantic and sublime, till the mind is at loss to find an epithet for 

 its own use. To realize Niagara, you must sit there till you see 

 nothing else than that which you have come to see. You will 

 hear nothing else, and think of nothing else. At length you will 

 be at one with the tumbling river before you. You will find 

 yourself among the waters as though you belonged to them. The 

 cool, liquid green will run through your veins, and the voice of 

 the cataract will be the expression of your own heart. You will 

 fall as the bright waters fall, rushing down into your new world 

 with no hesitation and with no dismay; and you will rise again 

 as the spray rises, bright, beautiful, and pure. Then you will 

 flow away in your course to the uncompassed, distant, and eternal 

 ocean. 



When this state has been reached and has passed away, you 

 may get off your rail and mount the tower. I do not quite approve 

 of that tower, seeing that it has about it a gingerbread air, and 

 reminds one of those well-arranged scenes of romance in which 

 one is told that on the left you turn to the lady's bower, price 



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