in proportion to the value of that authority which is the result of actual observation, are they irritated to find its weight cast into the opposite scale.  Had not Capt.  Hall been converted by what he saw in North America, from the Whig faith he exhibited in his description of South America, his book would have been far more popular in England during the last two years of public excitement; it may, perhaps, be long before any justice is done to Capt.  Hall’s book in the United States, but a less time will probably suffice to establish its claim to attention at home.

CHAPTER 32

Journey to Niagara—­Hudson—­West Point—­Hyde Park—­
Albany—­Yankees—­Trenton Falls—­Rochester—­
Genesee Falls—­Lockport

How quickly weeks glide away in such a city as New York, especially when you reckon among your friends some of the most agreeable people in either hemisphere.  But we had still a long journey before us, and one of the wonders of the world was to be seen.

On the 30th of May we set off for Niagara.  I had heard so much of the surpassing beauty of the North River, that I expected to be disappointed, and to find reality flat after description.  But it is not in the power of man to paint with a strength exceeding that of nature, in such scenes as the Hudson presents.  Every mile shows some new and startling effect of the combination of rocks, trees, and water; there is no interval of flat or insipid scenery, from the moment you enter upon the river at New York, to that of quitting it at Albany, a distance of 180 miles.

For the first twenty miles the shore of New Jersey, on the left, offers almost a continued wall of trap rock, which from its perpendicular form, and lineal fissures, is called the Palisados.  This wall sometimes rises to the height of a hundred and fifty feet, and sometimes sinks down to twenty.  Here and there, a watercourse breaks its uniformity; and every where the brightest foliage, in all the splendour of the climate and the season, fringed and chequered the dark barrier.  On the opposite shore, Manhatten Island, with its leafy coronet gemmed with villas, forms a lovely contrast to these rocky heights.

After passing Manhatten Island, the eastern shore gradually assumes a wild and rocky character, but ever varying; woods, lawns, pastures, and towering cliffs all meet the eye in quick succession, as the giant steam-boat cleaves its swift passage up the stream.

For several miles the voyage is one of great interest independent of its beauty, for it passes many points where important events of the revolutionary war took place.

It was not without a pang that I looked on the spot where poor Andre was taken, and another where he was executed.

Several forts, generally placed in most commanding situations, still show by their battered ruins, where the struggle was strongest, and I felt no lack of that moral interest so entirely wanting in the new States, and without which no journey can, I think, continue long without wearying the spirits.