II.

How many cataracts does the habitual tourist visit at which the waters fail him! But at Niagara the waters never fail. There it thunders over its ledge in a volume that never ceases, and is never diminished; as it has done from times previous to the life of man, and as it will do till tens of thousands of years shall see the rocky bed of the river worn away, back to the upper lake.

This stream divides Canada from the States; the western or farthermost bank belonging to the British Crown, and the eastern or nearer bank being in the State of New York.

The falls are, as I have said, made by a sudden breach in the level of the river. All cataracts are, I presume, made by such breaches; but generally the waters do not fall precipitously as they do at Niagara; and never elsewhere, as far as the world yet knows, has a breach so sudden been made in a river carrying in its channel such, or any approach to such, a body of water.

Up above the falls, for more than a mile, the waters leap and burst over the rapids, as though conscious of the destiny that awaits them. Here the river is very broad and comparatively shallow; but from shore to shore it frets itself into little torrents, and begins to assume the majesty of its power.

Looking at it even here, in the expanse which forms itself over the greater fall, one feels sure that no strongest swimmer could have a chance of saving himself, if fate had cast him in among even those petty whirlpools. The waters, though so broken in their descent, are deliciously green. This color, as seen early in the morning, or just as the sun has set, is so bright as to give to the place one of its chiefest charms.

This will be best seen from the further end of the island, Goat Island, as it is called, which, as the reader will understand, divides the river immediately above the falls. above the falls. Indeed, the island is a part of that precipitously broken ledge over which the river tumbles; and no doubt in process of time will be worn away and covered with water. The time, however, will be very long. In the meanwhile, it is perhaps a mile round, and is covered thickly with timber.

At the upper end of the island, the waters are divided, and, coming down in two courses, each over its own rapids, form two separate falls. The bridge by which the island is reached is a hundred yards or more above the smaller fall.

III.

We will go at once on to the glory, and the thunder, and the majesty, and the wrath of the larger fall. Advancing beyond the path leading

down to the lesser fall, we come to that point of the island at which the waters of the main river begin to descend. From hence, across to the Canadian side, the cataract continues itself in one unabated line. But the line is very far from being direct or straight.

After stretching for some little way from the shore to a point in the river which is reached by a wooden bridge, at the end of which stands a tower upon the rock, after stretching to this, the line of the ledge bends inwards against the floods, — in, and in, and in, till one is led to think that the depth of that horseshoe is immeasurable.

Go down to the end of that wooden bridge, seat yourself on the rail, and there sit till all the outer world is lost to you. There is no grander spot about Niagara than this. The waters are absolutely around you. If you have that power of eye, control, — which is so necessary to the full enjoyment of scenery, you will see nothing but the water.

You will certainly hear nothing else; and the sound, I beg you to remember, is not an ear-cracking, agonizing crash and clang of noises, but is melodious and soft withal, though loud as thunder. It fills your ears, and, as it were, envelops them; but at the same time you can speak to your neighbor without an effort. But, at this place and in these moments, the less of speaking, I should say, the better.

There is no grander spot than this. Here, seated on the rail of the bridge, you will not see the whole depth of the fall. In looking at the grandest works of nature, and of art, too, I fancy it is never well to see all. There should be something left to the imagination.

It is glorious to watch the waters in their first curve over the rocks. They come green as a bank of emeralds, but with a fitful, flying color, as though conscious that in one moment they would be dashed into spray and rise into air, pale as driven snow.

The vapor 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 the caldron below, but the caldron itself will be invisible. It is ever so far down far as your own imagination can sink it.

But your eyes will rest full upon the curve of the waters. The shape at which you will be looking 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 was at first only great and beautiful, becomes gigantic and sublime, till the mind is at a loss to find an epithet for its own use.

see.

To realize Niagara, you must sit there till you see nothing else than that which you have come to 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 own course to the unbounded, distant, and eternal ocean.

- ANTHONY TROLLOPE.

6. THE CAÑONS OF THE COLORADO.

I.

The Colorado River is formed by the junction of the Grand and the Green. Grand River has its source in the Rocky Mountains, five or six miles. west of Long's Peak, in latitude 40° 17' and longitude 105° 40', approximately. A group of little Alpine lakes that receive their waters from perpetual snow-banks discharge into a common reservoir known as Grand Lake - a beautiful sheet of water,