that they are not evils at all; that they give more pleasure than pain, seeing that they tend to the enjoyment of the multitude.  But there are edifices of this description which cry aloud to the gods by the force of their own ugliness and malposition.  As to such, it may be said that there should somewhere exist a power capable of crushing them in their birth.  This new obelisk, or picture-building at Niagara, is one of such.

And now we will cross the water, and with this object will return by the bridge out of Goat Island, on the main land of the American side.  But as we do so, let me say that one of the great charms of Niagara consists in this:  that over and above that one great object of wonder and beauty, there is so much little loveliness—­ loveliness especially of water I mean.  There are little rivulets running here and there over little falls, with pendent boughs above them, and stones shining under their shallow depths.  As the visitor stands and looks through the trees, the rapids glitter before him, and then hide themselves behind islands.  They glitter and sparkle in far distances under the bright foliage, till the remembrance is lost, and one knows not which way they run.  And then the river below, with its whirlpool,—­but we shall come to that by-and-by, and to the mad voyage which was made down the rapids by that mad captain who ran the gantlet of the waters at the risk of his own life, with fifty to one against him, in order that he might save another man’s property from the sheriff.

The readiest way across to Canada is by the ferry; and on the American side this is very pleasantly done.  You go into a little house, pay twenty cents, take a seat on a wooden car of wonderful shape, and on the touch of a spring find yourself traveling down an inclined plane of terrible declivity, and at a very fast rate.  You catch a glance of the river below you, and recognize the fact that if the rope by which you are held should break, you would go down at a very fast rate indeed, and find your final resting-place in the river.  As I have gone down some dozen times, and have come to no such grief, I will not presume that you will be less lucky.  Below there is a boat generally ready.  If it be not there, the place is not chosen amiss for a rest of ten minutes, for the lesser fall is close at hand, and the larger one is in full view.  Looking at the rapidity of the river, you will think that the passage must be dangerous and difficult.  But no accidents ever happen, and the lad who takes you over seems to do it with sufficient ease.  The walk up the hill on the other side is another thing.  It is very steep, and for those who have not good locomotive power of their own, will be found to be disagreeable.  In the full season, however, carriages are generally waiting there.  In so short a distance I have always been ashamed to trust to other legs than my own, but I have observed that Americans are always dragged up.  I have seen single young men of from eighteen to twenty-five, from whose outward appearance no story of idle, luxurious life can be read, carried about alone in carriages over distances which would be counted as nothing by any healthy English lady of fifty.  None but the old invalids should require the assistance of carriages in seeing Niagara, but the trade in carriages is to all appearance the most brisk trade there.