Niagara--Arrival at Forsythes--First sight of the Falls-- Goat Island--The Rapids--Buffalo--Lake Erie--Canandaigna-- Stage-coach adventures At length we reached Niagara.

It was the brightest day that June could give; and almost any day would have seemed bright that brought me to the object, which for years, I had languished to look upon.
We did not hear the sound of the Falls till very near the hotel, which overhangs them; as you enter the door you see behind the hall an open space surrounded by galleries, one above another, and in an instant you feel that from thence the wonder is visible.
I trembled like a fool, and my girls clung to me, trembling too, I believe, but with faces beaming with delight.

We encountered a waiter who had a sympathy of some sort with us, for he would not let us run through the hall to the first gallery, but ushered us up stairs, and another instant placed us where, at one glance, I saw all I had wished for, hoped for, dreamed of.
It is not for me to attempt a description of Niagara; I feel I have no powers for it.
After one long, stedfast gaze, we quitted the gallery that we might approach still nearer, and in leaving the house had the good fortune to meet an English gentleman, (The accomplished author of "Cyril Thornton.") who had been introduced to us at New York; he had preceded us by a few days, and knew exactly how and where to lead us.

If any man living can describe the scene we looked upon it is himself, and I trust he will do it.

As for myself, I can only say, that wonder, terror, and delight completely overwhelmed me.