rapidity of the current, its violence is displayed only on each side of the river, the middle remaining sufficiently smooth to admit of boats, passing down to the island, that separates the river into two branches before the waters are dashed down the precipice which forms the Falls. As the current approaches this island, it seems to run with redoubled velocity: It is impossible to conceive any thing equal to the force and swiftness of its progress to the ledge of rocks over which it is propelled, till it impetuously tumbles into the bed of the river beneath, with a noise louder than that of thunder. When the waters fall into the deep basin, they rebound into the air in immense spherical figures, white as snow, and sparkling as diamonds. These figures, after rising and apparently remaining stationary for a moment, explode at the top and emit columns of spray to an astonishing height. height. They then subside, and are succeeded by others which appear and disappear in the same manner.

From that part of the table-rock which yet remains, and the path to which I have already described, the spectator commands one of the grandest and most romantic views in nature. The tremendous rapids above the Falls,-Goat Island in their midst, covered with trees, each of which seems at every moment about to be swept away,the Horse-shoe Fall immediately below the TableRock, Fort Schloper Fall, beyond Goat Island,—— and the frightful gulf beneath, boiling with per

petual rage, and shooting upwards immense volumes of sparkling foam, smoking with the apparènt intensity of furious heat,-are a few of the great objects which are forced upon his attention.

+ Since this chapter was put to press, I have obtained a copy of Professor DWIGHT's Travels, which are just published, and contain an excellent description of the Falls and their scenery. The following passage explains very accurately, as well as philosophically, the peculiar sort of "boiling" described in the text:

"You will easily believe, that by the falling of such a mass of water from such a height, the stream below must be intensely convulsed. The world, it is presumed, furnishes no example of similar agitation. The river does not, however, boil, in the common acceptation of that word, at all. The whole surface, and probably all beneath it, is a body of foam, differing essentially from what I have seen produced elsewhere, and much more strongly indicating the immense force of the current. The bubbles, of which it is universally composed, are extremely small; and appear continually ascending, and spreading on the surface in millions of irregular circular areas. These are all limited by lines, formed by chains of the larger bubbles, stretching between the several areas, so as to mark distinctly the extent of each. The lines themselves fluctuate unceasingly, and while they continually change their form, move along the surface, also, in every direction. Thus the whole river appears in one common convulsion,' as if affected with a deep paralytic tremor, reaching from shore to shore, as far down the stream as the eye can trace it, and apparently from the surface to the bottom. To give you the impression, which it made on my mind, I think of no better method, than to say, that it seemed as if a vast volcanic struggle had commenced beneath this world of waters, whose incumbent weight hitherto prevented the approaching explosion.

"The cause of this singular phenomenon may be thus understood. Immediately below the precipice, the bed of the river, where it receives the falling sheet, is of immense depth. Into this receptacle, the mass of descending water, plunging from

Another place from which the Falls assume, if possible, a more striking and awful appearance, is at the bottom of the cataract. The precipice,

such a height, forces its way to the bottom. Here, forming a curve, it begins to ascend. The current is, however, checked in every stage of its progress by the immeasurable weight of the superincumbent water. The motion upward must therefore become slow, divided, and irregular. In these circumstances, instead of a current, there must obviously be a general agitation, an universal heaving; such as might be expected from the throes of an earthquake. As the ascending current is thus broken, and enervated, before it reaches the surface, the surface is not billowy, but comparatively level. The wavy, tossed aspect of other streams, immediately below their cataracts, is the result of a force, applied at the surface; or of a current, descending only to a moderate depth. In the present case, as the ascending current comes from a depth so vast, it almost equally affects the whole mass, and cannot disturb the common level by the smallest fluctuations. The whole appearance, however, made an impression on the mind, of an agitation incalculably greater, and a force far more astonishing, than that, which produces the loftiest billows of the ocean. This was a scene, which I was unprepared to expect, and an exhibition of the force of water, which I had never before imagined.

"Of the singular depth of the river at this place, no spectator will ask for proof. To others it may be alleged, that a deep stream, from two to three and a half miles wide, is here contracted at once to somewhat less than half a mile; that logs, and other substances, after descending the precipice, continue buried a long time before they emerge; and that this immense mass of water, plunging from such a height, has been so long and so unceasingly excavating the bed below."

+ I cannot describe the view from this point in more appropriate language, than in that of Doctor Dwight:

"The emotions," says he, "excited by the view of this stupendous scene, are unutterable. When the spectator casts his

leading to this spot, is descended by means of a ladder, commonly called the Indian ladder,—a piece of mechanism simply consisting of a cedar-tree, the boughs of which are lopped off at a sufficient distance from the trunk to make them answer all the purposes of irregular steps. After descending this ladder, the perpendicular height of which is upwards of sixty feet, you proceed along the edge of the river, which is covered with broken rocks, the wrecks of boats, and other exuvia, until you arrive at the bottom of the Horse-shoe Fall. From this place, visitors frequently proceed on foot several hundred yards within a prodigious sheet of caverned water, which is formed by the overshooting of the cataract. But they must be men of the firmest nerve, who venture on such a daring excursion; for the most undaunted resolution is

eye over the long ranges of ragged cliffs, which form the shores of this great river below the cataract; cliffs one hundred and fifty feet in height, bordering it with lonely gloom and grandeur, and shrouded every where by shaggy forests; when he surveys the precipice above, stretching with so great an amplitude, rising to so great a height, and presenting in a single view its awful brow, with an impression not a little enhanced by the division, which the island forms between the two great branches of the river; when he contemplates the enormous mass of water, pouring from this astonishing height in sheets so vast, and with a force so amazing; when, turning his eye to the flood beneath, he beholds the immense convulsion of the mighty mass; and listens to the majestic sound which fills the heavens; his mind is overwhelmed by thoughts too great, and by impressions too powerful, to permit the current of the intellect to flow with serenity."

in danger of being shaken, on looking upward at the impending rock, which continually seems to bend, and groan beneath the rolling flood to which it serves as a fearful support or aqueduct. From the projecting edge of this rock, the mass of waters is impelled forward, and leaves a large and smooth expanse, which reaches from the natural sheet of falling water to the very base of the gradually undermined mountain. If the atmosphere be dense, it is still more dangerous to engage in the bold attempt of exploring the stable foundations of the embedded river; for people at such times not unfrequently lose the power of respiration in proceeding far beneath the rocky ceiling. + Notwith

+ Professor Dwight has satisfactorily accounted for the difficulty occasionally experienced by those pedestrians who try to get behind the screen of falling waters, by walking along the slippery banks of the river from the bottom of the ladder already described. He has proved, that the height of the river, both above and below the Falls, depends upon the quarter from which the wind blows. "Lake Erie," he says, "is regularly raised at the Eastern end [where the Falls commence] by every wind, blowing between the North-west and the South-west. A strong Westerly wind elevates the surface six feet above its ordinary level. The river must of course be proportionally elevated; and at the outlet must, when such a wind blows, be six feet higher than the general water-mark. Of this, also, the proof is sufficient, if it can need proof, in the appearance of the banks; which bear evident marks of having been washed to a considerable height above the common surface of the stream. All parts of the river must of course partake of this elevation. At the cataract, and at the entrance into Lake Ontario, it must be higher than usual, as well as at its efflux from Lake Erie. Immediately below the cataract, the ele