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Gradually, and after much contemplation, I came to know, by my own
feelings, that Niagara is indeed a wonder of the world, and not the less
wonderful, because time and thought must be employed in comprehending
it. Casting aside all preconceived notions, and preparation to be dire-
struck or delighted, the beholder must stand beside it in the simplicity
of his heart, suffering the mighty scene to work its own impression.
Night after night, I dreamed of it, and was gladdened every morning by
the consciousness of a growing capacity to enjoy it. Yet I will not
pretend to the all-absorbing enthusiasm of some more fortunate
spectators, nor deny that very trifling causes would draw my eyes and
thoughts from the cataract.

The last day that I was to spend at Niagara, before my departure for the
Far West, I sat upon the Table Rock. This celebrated station did not
now, as of old, project fifty feet beyond the line of the precipice, but
was shattered by the fall of an immense fragment, which lay distant on
the shore below. Still, on the utmost verge of the rock, with my feet
hanging over it, I felt as if suspended in the open air. Never before
had my mind been in such perfect unison with the scene. There were
intervals, when I was conscious of nothing but the great river, rolling
calmly into the abyss, rather descending than precipitating itself, and
acquiring tenfold majesty from its unhurried motion. It came like the
march of Destiny. It was not taken by surprise, but seemed to have
anticipated, in all its course through the broad lakes, that it must
pour their collected waters down this height. The perfect foam of the
river, after its descent, and the ever-varying shapes of mist, rising
up, to become clouds in the sky, would be the very picture of confusion,
were it merely transient, like the rage of a tempest. But when the
beholder has stood awhile, and perceives no lull in the storm, and
considers that the vapor and the foam are as everlasting as the rocks
which produce them, all this turmoil assumes a sort of calmness. It
soothes, while it awes the mind.

Leaning over the cliff, I saw the guide conducting two adventurers
behind the falls. It was pleasant, from that high seat in the sunshine,
to observe them struggling against the eternal storm of the lower
regions, with heads bent down, now faltering, now pressing forward, and
finally swallowed up in their victory. After their disappearance, a
blast rushed out with an old hat, which it had swept from one of their
heads. The rock, to which they were directing their unseen course, is
marked, at a fearful distance on the exterior of the sheet, by a jet of
foam. The attempt to reach it appears both poetical and perilous to a
looker-on, but may be accomplished without much more difficulty or
hazard, than in stemming a violent northeaster. In a few moments, forth
came the children of the mist. Dripping and breathless, they crept
along the base of the cliff, ascended to the guide’s cottage, and
received, I presume, a certificate of their achievement, with three
verses of sublime poetry on the back.

My contemplations were often interrupted by strangers, who came down
from Forsyth’s to take their first view of the falls. A short, ruddy,
middle-aged gentleman, fresh from Old England, peeped over the rock, and
evinced his approbation by a broad grin. His spouse, a very robust
lady, afforded a sweet example of maternal solicitude, being so intent
on the safety of her little boy that she did not even glance at Niagara.
As for the child, he gave himself wholly to the enjoyment of a stick of
candy. Another traveller, a native American, and no rare character
among us, produced a volume of Captain Hall’s tour, and labored
earnestly to adjust Niagara to the captain’s description, departing, at
last, without one new idea or sensation of his own. The next comer was
provided, not with a printed book, but with a blank sheet of foolscap,
from top to bottom of which, by means of an ever-pointed pencil, the
cataract was made to thunder. In a little talk, which we had together,
he awarded his approbation to the general view, but censured the
position of Goat Island, observing that it should have been thrown
farther to the right, so as to widen the American falls, and contract
those of the Horseshoe. Next appeared two traders of Michigan, who
declared, that, upon the whole, the sight was worth looking at, there
certainly was an immense water-power here; but that, after all, they
would go twice as far to see the noble stone-works of Lockport, where
the Grand Canal is locked down a descent of sixty feet. They were
succeeded by a young fellow, in a homespun cotton dress, with a staff in
his hand, and a pack over his shoulders. He advanced close to the edge
of the rock, where his attention, at first wavering among the different
components of the scene, finally became fixed in the angle of the Horse
shoe falls, which is, indeed, the central point of interest. His whole
soul seemed to go forth and be transported thither, till the staff
slipped from his relaxed grasp, and falling down–down–down–struck
upon the fragment of the Table Rock.