teaches is commendable. In no other country do you see the old proverb, that "the hand must keep the head," so systematically exemplified as in America. From the earliest age the youthful American is taught to take care of himself, and hence, in a great measure, arises that sturdy independence which characterises the race, and which has made the American nation the marvel of the age.

The pages of history afford no parallel to the rapid strides with which America has advanced from a dependent colony to an independent nation. Her progress has been made in seven-leagued boots; her proportions are colossal; and her power gigantic. She has no foe to fear but herself. If she be shorn of her fair proportions, herself will hold the shears. But so vast, so mighty is America, that she can afford to be divided, and yet present to the world the spectacle of two great nations springing from the ashes of a British colony not a century deceased.

We arrived at Niagara station at 8.45 P.M., and leaving the cars, crossed the Niagara River, over the magnificent suspension-bridge; and lo! we were in Canada. It was pleasant to see the Union Jack and Vic. Regina, and to feel that we were, so to speak, in our own country once more, though I am bound to say that we received every civility and attention whilst under the protection of the star-spangled banner. As we crossed the bridge, in the Clifton Hotel omnibus, the mighty Falls were distinctly visible at about two miles' distance, whilst directly underneath us the river foamed and whirled furiously, being still under the influence of its headlong leap. The road to the Clifton Hotel runs along the top of the high cliffs overlooking the river, and beautifully wooded are these cliffs; but we had no eyes for anything but the Falls, and as we neared the hotel, at a sudden turn of the road, the glories of Niagara burst upon us.

The distance and the dim twilight veiled the full majesty of the Falls, but we could see a vast mass of foam, and volumes of mist rising high into the heavens, and, moreover, it was our first sight of Niagara, and very, very beautiful it was, though, of course, we could not at that distance, and by that light, appreciate its immensity and grandeur.

The Clifton House is the only hotel on the Canada side of the river, and, from its situation, is far the best to stop at. It is exactly opposite the American Falls, having nothing but the river between it and them, and the Canadian or Horse-shoe Falls, about half a mile higher up, are in full view of the hotel. The American hotels, of which there are several, are, of necessity, at the back of their own Falls; and Goat Island, with its lofty trees, intervening between them and the Horse-shoe Falls, completely shuts out the view; you cannot, therefore, see either of the Falls from any of the hotels on the American side, and you see them both from the Clifton House.

As a set-off to this disadvantage, you are close to the rapids above the Falls on the American side, which are, in their way, as grand as the Falls themselves; and you are close to Goat Island, and can walk through its woods up to the very edge of the Falls. Moreover, at the Cataract Hotel, where we stopped one night on our return to the States, you find a better cuisine than at the Clifton House. I state these facts for the benefit of future travellers. Were I to revisit Niagara I should go to

will

the Clifton House, because I place an uninterrupted and constant view of those two magnificent Falls before any and every other advantage.

It was a beautiful, still, moonlight night, and we stood in the verandah of the hotel, listening to the roar, and gazing on the glories of Niagara. I had been told that I should be disappointed with Niagara, that the Falls were of no height, &c. &c. Well, I cannot argue the question. I do not think that any one who has experienced a feeling of disappointment, whilst looking at Niagara, would understand why I felt none. I knew the height of the Falls before I saw them, and therefore did not expect them to be higher than they are; and, as to the rest-go and see. I may talk, and probably shall before I leave Niagara, of "the world of waters" and " seas of foam," but I shall not give you any idea of what I am talking about.

I shall never forget those moonlight nights in the verandah of the Clifton House. The flood of light on the top of the Falls; the deep, dark shadows below; the river surging from beneath the gloom of the rocks into the pale moonlight, where it danced and glittered with delight at having survived the desperate leap; the wreaths of foaming mists, ever ascending and ever changing in form and colour; below, black and heavy as a funeral pall; above, bright and light as a gossamer web floating high up in the still atmosphere; the incessant roar of waters; the dark-blue sky overhead; and the calm, grand moon looking lovingly down upon the picture she had painted, altogether formed a scene of singular loveliness and grandeur, probably without a parallel in the world, grand and lovely though it be. It was a difficult matter to go to bed during those moonlight nights, and when in bed the cradle of my thoughts was rocked by the roar of waters.

A word or two about the suspension-bridge may possibly be acceptable, and as I feel quite sure that to-morrow I shall be in the whirl of waters, and consequently blind to bridges, the word spoken must be now or never. The suspension-bridge is a noble and stupendous structure. It was begun in 1852, and is the work of Mr. John A. Roebling, of Trenton, New Jersey. It connects Canada with the United States, and over it are carried the Great Western and the New York Central railroads. Carriages and foot passengers cross the bridge upon a road twenty-eight feet beneath the railway. The cars traversed the bridge for the first time on the 8th of March, 1855. The cost of the bridge was over 100,000l. sterling. The height of the towers on the American side is 88 feet, on the Canada side 78 feet. The length of the bridge is 800 feet, the width 24 feet, the height above the river 250 feet. There are four enormous wire cables, of about 10 inches in diameter, which contain about 4000 miles of wire; the capacity of the four cables is about 12,400 tons. The total weight of the bridge is 800 tons, and it combines in an eminent degree strength and elegance of structure.

For this description, which is doubtless a correct one, I am indebted to a small guide-book, entitled "Falls of Niagara." I can myself corroborate the latter eulogy; it certainly has the appearance of great strength, and is a very beautiful structure. My guide-book says that, previous to the erection of this bridge, people crossed the river "in an iron basket slung under a single cable of iron wire, being let down the incline and drawn up on the opposite side by a windlass." I do not ques

tion the accuracy of the above statement, but I am certainly rejoiced that the bridge superseded the basket before I visited Niagara. There is a legend that while six workmen were employed in repairing the basketbridge a terrific gale burst upon them, tearing the planks away upon which they stood, and leaving four of their number clinging to two thin wires, which swung fearfully to and fro over the whirling rapids beneath. These men, after swinging by two thin wires over the whirling rapids (a performance which must make Blondin pale with envy) for some timehistory does not state the exact time-were happily saved by a brave individual, who "descended in the basket during a lull in the gale, and by means of a ladder rescued his companions from their awful position." This story reminds me of my thankfulness that Blondin was not at the Falls. I cannot imagine any thing, or body, so out of place as a mountebank at Niagara. However nearly the sublime and the ridiculous may occasionally approach one another, they never in reality go well together.

A propos of M. Blondin, I may as well mention, for the information of those who, like myself, imagined that he crossed the Falls-the mighty cataract itself on his rope, that he did nothing_of_the_sort. He crossed the river Niagara about a mile or so below the Falls. I was shown the place.

One more story, and then to bed, to dream of the noise which thunders in my ears, and to long for morning, that I may stand close by the cause of the foam and the fury, which as yet I have seen but distantly and dimly.

A small steamer, called the Maid of the Mist, belonging to a smart Yankee, used to leave the American side of the river, just above the suspension-bridge, and steam right up to the Falls. There, directly beneath the raging cataract, she remained, until the passengers, completely wet through from the showers of mist in which they were enveloped, were satisfied with the sight (they could not see) and then back sped the Maid for a fresh cargo. It came to pass, that the Yankee captain, smart though he was, got into difficulties-meaning debt. It was whispered to him by a friend that the Maid of the Mist would be taken in execution by a sheriff's officer the very next day, if she remained where she was. The Yankee was in a fix: the Maid, as a speculation, was a failure, therefore he could not sell her on the Canada side. She was of no use to any one (except for the purpose which, experience had proved, did not pay), on account of the rapids between her and Lake Ontario; rapids, down which no boat had ever ventureddown which no boat could live. The Yankee captain turned his quid; an idea and a jet of juice simultaneously left his lips. "I'll do it!" he said, slapping his thighs, "and that kind and considerate gentleman” (these are not the precise epithets used, I believe), "the sheriff, if he wornts the Maid, may go to (I forget the exact spot indicated, but it was not heaven) "and look for her." The idea which had floated from the lips of the bold captain was this: "He would take his boat to Queenstown, and sell her." To get her there, he would have to take her down the rapids, and through the whirlpool; having once passed these dangers, and his boat would be saleable, the lake and the Atlantic would be alike open to her.

Reader, have you descended the spiral staircase which conducts you to the river's edge, some quarter of a mile below the suspension-bridge, where the water rushes madly past, and the waves, twenty feet high, dash against each other in the very delirium of wrath? If you have done this you can form some idea of the first danger which the Yankee captain would have to encounter. About three-quarters of a mile lower down, the river takes an abrupt turn, dashing with great violence against the rocks and cliffs on the Canada side, and forming in the bend what is called "the Whirlpool ;" and certainly the water does whirl and surge around that bend most savagely; here, too, the captain must run the gauntlet; and yet again, below the whirlpool, are other rapids which he must pass through ere he reaches his wished-for haven-Queenstown.

Never had steamer ventured to encounter either the rapids or the whirlpool. To attempt to do so was certain destruction; you would be knocked to pieces in the rapids, and whirled into nothingness in the pool. Was it not an acknowledged fact-a matter of Niagara historythat whatever substance, whether animate or inanimate, whether wood or iron, flesh or fowl, once came within the influence of that dreadful vortex, it never again appeared; not the smallest particle ever again appeared to mortal view? Round and round, in an everlasting waltz of waters, you are washed into nothingness.

The Yankee captain well knew the danger of the rapids, which, indeed, required no fictitious horrors to magnify their true character.

I would rather try them than be hanged, but certainly no amount of dollars and cents would induce me to make the attempt. The Yankee captain thought otherwise; he "guessed he'd walk the Maid through the rapids like greased lightning, he would; he'd run her under before he'd let that tarnation critter, that old rip of a ," that is to say, that amiable individual the sheriff, "have her."

The morning was misty, and the Maid was accordingly in her proper element as she steamed from her usual moorings up the river towards the Falls. There was no one on board but the captain and the engineer. Something was amiss the day before (so the captain said), and he wished to see if it was all right again before taking his passengers on board.

The captain took the helm, and the engineer was below to see that all worked well. The Maid had not proceeded far up the river when the captain put down the helm, and round she came, heading direct for the suspension-bridge. As she neared it she began to dance about a bit, and the engineer popped up his head to see the cause of the boat's unusual motion. She was just passing underneath the bridge, and the engineer knew that in a few minutes she would be in the midst of the rapids. He turned pale with horror.

"In Heaven's name, capt'en, where are you steering to ?" he cried. "I'm going to run the rapids. Get below and attend to the engines," was the answer.

It was no time for expostulation or argument, the boat was thrashing through the troubled waters at railway speed. The engineer disappeared below, and in a few moments the boat was in the breakers.

Although the captain had kept his intention of running the rapids as secret as possible, it had, somehow or another, leaked out, and hundreds of spectators lined the cliffs on either side the river. An eye-witness of

the scene thus described it to me: "It was the most fearful sight I ever saw; the boat rushed madly into the midst of those awful breakers, and I thought all was over; she was tossed and thrown from wave to wave as though she had been a chip of wood, for the waves of those rapids are not like the waves of the sea, all driven one way, but, from the compression of that great body of water in the narrow compass of the river's banks, and from the under-current, the waves are dashed and driven one against the other in all directions, and with force enough, one would think, to split any boat to a thousand pieces that got amongst them. Well, when the Maid was about half way down the rapids, she gave a tremendous plunge, and away went her smoke-stack (Anglicè, funnel) over the side. There was a cry, 'She has foundered! it's all over with her!' And she really did almost disappear for a moment; she was buried in the waters, the waves flying clean over her, but in less time than I have taken to tell you she righted herself, and was dashing on as madly as ever. On she went, plunging and pitching as I never saw anything plunge or pitch before, and in a minute or two more she was clear of the rapids, and in comparative smooth water. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes; I wouldn't have believed that anything put together by man could have held together through those raging waters." My informant further told me that he watched the Maid pass the whirlpool, which she did also in safety; the rapids below were out of his sight, but the boat weathered them, and arrived all right, with the exception of the loss of her funnel, at Queenstown, which, being on the Canada side of the river, was safe from the Yankee sheriff.

This daring feat of seamanship had only happened about six weeks before our arrival at Niagara, and was, as might be expected, in every one's mouth.

IMPRESSIONS OF THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION.

As if to show the Commissioners' lofty disregard for the aesthetic sympathies of our foreign visitors and for the architectural honour of our country, Captain Fowke's great building for the "World's Fair" resembles on the outside only an overgrown railway terminus; and to make it the more unlike anything that has ever been constructed, two gigantic glass domes, each as high and broad as the dome of St. Peter's, "shine afar;" but they have no relation to the character of the building, nor are they in harmony with it, and they only proclaim that the contriver of this enormous structure has, like Martin in painting, aimed at the production of effect by magnitude, and has resolved to show how greatly he at all events is above architecture and the laws of composition.

But the interior presents a scene which affords to the eye an unexpected pleasure, yet one which is due more to the harmonious colouring of the structure than to any beauty of form or proportion that it can boast, for