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 sixpence; and on the right ascend to the knight’s bed, price sixpence more, with a view of the hermit’s tomb thrown in.  But nevertheless the tower is worth mounting, and no money is charged for the use of it.  It is not very high, and there is a balcony at the top on which some half dozen persons may stand at ease.  Here the mystery is lost, but the whole fall is seen.  It is not even at this spot brought so fully before your eye, made to show itself in so complete and entire a shape, as it will do when you come to stand near to it on the opposite or Canadian shore.  But I think that it shows itself more beautifully.  And the form of the cataract is such that here, on Goat Island, on the American side, no spray will reach you, although you are absolutely over the waters.  But on the Canadian side, the road as it approaches the fall is wet and rotten with spray, and you, as you stand close upon the edge, will be wet also.  The rainbows as they are seen through the rising cloud—­for the sun’s rays as seen through these waters show themselves in a bow, as they do when seen through rain—­are pretty enough, and are greatly loved.  For myself, I do not care for this prettiness at Niagara.  It is there, but I forget it, and do not mind how soon it is forgotten.

But we are still on the tower; and here I must declare that though I forgive the tower, I cannot forgive the horrid obelisk which has latterly been built opposite to it, on the Canadian side, up above the fall; built apparently—­for I did not go to it—­with some camera-obscura intention for which the projector deserves to be put in Coventry by all good Christian men and women.  At such a place as Niagara tasteless buildings, run up in wrong places with a view to money making, are perhaps necessary evils.  It may be