Wednesday, May 1st.
Mr. —— came in the morning, and I settled to call down at eleven for Mrs. —— to go to the fair. We drove to Faneuil Hall, a building opposite the market, which was appropriated to the uses of the fair; but the crowd was so dense round the steps, that we found it impossible to approach them, and wisely gave up the attempt, determining to take our drive, and then come back and try our later fortune. We drove down to the Chelsea beach. The day was bleak and cold, though bright, with a cutting east wind. After taking a good race along the bright creaming edge, we returned to the carriage, and drove into town again to the fair, which we managed at last to enter. The whole thing was crowd, crush, and confusion, to my bewildered eyes. We got upon a platform behind the stalls, and squeezed our way to Mrs. ——'s shop, where my father had desired me to buy him a card-case, which I did. I found —— installed in her stall. —— joined us, and Mr. ——, who drew me away to his wife's table, where I bought one or two things, and, having emptied my purse, came away. After dinner, Mr. —— came in: he showed us some things he had bought at the fair. I thought the prices enormous, but the money is well spent in itself, or rather, on its ultimate object, and the immediate return is of no import.
Thursday, 2d.
After breakfast, went over to rehearsal; at half-past eleven, went out to ride: the day was heavenly, bright, and mild, with a full, soft, sweet spring breeze blowing life and health over one. The golden willow-trees were all in flower, and the air, as we rode by them, was rich with their fragrance. The sky was as glorious as the sky of Paradise: the whole world was full of loveliness; and my spirits were in most harmonious tune with all its beauty. We rode along the chiming beach, talking gravely of many matters, temporal and spiritual; and when we reached the pines, I dismounted, entreated for a scrap of paper, and, in the miserable little parlour of this miserable little mansion, sat down and scribbled some miserable doggrel to ease my heart. How beautiful the scene around me was! the bright boundless sea, smooth as a sapphire, except at the restless rippling edge; the serene holy sky looking down so earnestly and gently on the flowering earth; the reviving breeze, dipping like a bird its fresh wings into the water,—how beautiful all things did seem to me,—how full of witnesses of the great power and goodness that created them. Why is it that clouds ever come between us and God when there are seasons like this, when we seem to sit at his very feet,—when his glory and his mercy seem the atmosphere we are breathing, and our whole existence is lifted, for a time, into the reality of all we hope and pray for? Yet these are but passing emotions: they are not, indeed, the very spirit of God,—they are but reflections of his image, caught from the glorious mirror of nature. The sky becomes cloudy,—the sea stormy; the blossoming and the bearing seasons pass away, and winter comes apace, with withered aspect, and bitter biting breath; the face of the universe becomes dark, and the trust, and faith, and joy of our souls, fade into doubt, disbelief, and sorrow. Infirmity and imperfection pluck us back from our heavenward flight, and the weight of our mortality drags us down fast, fast again towards the earth. These fair outward creatures, and the blessed emotions they excite, will pass away,—must—do pass away,—and where is the abiding revelation of God to which we shall turn? It lives for ever, in the still burning light of a strong and steadfast soul; in the resolute will and high unshaken purpose of good; in the quiet, calm, collected might of reason; in the undying warmth and brightness of a pure and holy heart.
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My ride did me ten thousand goods. As we were riding through Mrs. ——'s farm, a little boy came running to meet me with his hand full of beautiful flowers, which he stood upon tiptoe to thrust into my hand, and, without waiting to be thanked, rushed back into the house. I was delighted: the flowers were exquisite, and the manner of the gift very enchanting. Altogether, I do not know when I have been so completely filled with pleasurable emotions as during this ride.
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I have taken several enormous rides round Boston, and am more and more delighted with its environs, which are now in full flush of blossoming, as sweet, and fresh, and lovely as any thing can be. On Saturday, rode to the Blue Hills, a distance of upwards of twelve miles. The roads round this place are almost as good as roads in England, and the country altogether reminds me of that dear little land.[97] These Blue Hills were, a few years ago, a wilderness of forest—the favourite resort of rattlesnakes; but the trees have been partly cleared, and though 'tis still a wild desolate region, clothed with firs, and uncheered by a human habitation, its more savage tenants have disappeared with the thick coverts in which they nestled, and we rode to the summit of the highest hill without seeing any thing in the shape of Eve's enemy. At the top, by the by, we did find some species of building in decay and ruin. Whoever perched himself up there had no mind to be overlooked, and must have been fond of fresh air. The view from the mountain is magnificent, yet I do not believe the elevation to be very extraordinary; although, as I looked down, it seemed to me as though the world was stretched at my feet; and I thought of the temptation of our Saviour. The various villages, with their blossoming orchards, looked like patches of a snow-scene; the river wound, like a silver snake, all round the fields; the little lakes lay diminished to drops of bright blue light; and the lesser mountains rose below us like the waves of a dark sea. The whole was strange and awful to me—the savage loneliness of the place, its apparent remoteness from the earth, and its walkers, filled me with a solemn sensation. Had I been there alone, I do not know a place where I should sooner have expected to meet some of the wandering spirits of mid-air,—shapes, and sights, and beings of another order from those of the world, that lay like a map below me. The mountain itself is formed of granite, of which large slabs appeared through the turf and brushwood. I looked in vain for what I found in such abundance on the Portland hill, the sweet wild thyme. I thought I should find some of it among the stony rifts, where it loves to cling, but I was disappointed. Indeed, I met with a much more severe disappointment than that. The turf was thickly strewn with clumps of violets, the very same in form and colour as our own sweet wood violet. I stooped in an ecstasy to gather them, but found they were totally senseless—mere pretences of violets. A violet without fragrance! a wild one, too!—the thing's totally unnatural. I flung the little purple cheat away in a rage. I have since found cowslips with the same entire absence of fragrance. The heat and cold of this climate chill or wither every thing; and almost all the flowers which are most common and sweet, growing in the moist soil of England, seem reared with difficulty here, and lose their great fragrance, their soul, as it were, under the extreme influences of this sky.[98] There were many wild things growing on this mountain, that for beauty, and delicacy of form and colour, would have found honourable place in our conservatories; but they had not the slightest perfume, and I took no delight in them. A scentless flower is a monster; and though I acknowledge with due admiration the pale beauty of that queen of flowers, the camelia, I never see it in its cold pearl-like pride of bloom, that it does not strike me like a fine lady—an artificial creature, fair indeed to behold, but without the very property of a flower—sweetness. Oh, the lilies of the valley,—the primroses,—the violets,—the sweet, sweet hawthorn,—the fresh fragrant blush rose,—the purple lilac bloom,—the silver serynga,—the faint breathing hyacinths,—the golden cowslips, of a morning, at the close of May in England!—the fulness of sweetness that loads the temperate air, as it breathes over the fresh lawns of that flower garden!
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I took another long ride to a quarry ten miles distant from Boston, whence the granite, which is much used in Boston for building, is drawn. I started at six in the morning, and rode about twenty miles before breakfast, which I think was a piece of virtue bordering upon heroism: to be sure, I had my reward, for any thing so sweet as the whole world, at about half-past six, I never beheld. The dew was yet fresh upon tree and flower,—the roads were shady and cool,—the dust had not yet been disturbed; a mild, soft, full breeze blew over the flowery earth, and the rosy apple blossoms stirred on the rocking boughs against the serene and smiling sky. They have in this country neither nightingales, thrushes, linnets, nor blackbirds, at least, none with the same notes as ours; but every now and then, from the snowy cherry trees, there came a wild snatch of trilling melody, like the clear ringing song of a canary bird. My companion did not know the minstrel by his note; but I never heard a more brilliant and joyful strain, or one more fitted to the bright hour of opening day,—always excepting the lark's, that triumphant embodied spirit of song.[99] The blackbird's song is to me the sweetest in the world,—sad and soft, and rich as the sunsets through which it is heard. The quarry which we visited is an extensive vein of fine dark-coloured granite. We dismounted, and walked among the workmen to see them at their various processes. This quarry, and one at a short distance, merely supply the blocks of granite, which, being detached from the main stone, are piled upon cars, and sent down an inclined plane to the rail-road, by means of a powerful chain, which acts at once as a support and check, suffering the load to proceed slowly down the declivity, and at the same time sending up from the bottom, upon another track, the empty car from which the granite has been unloaded below, as the buckets of a well are drawn up and down. A very serious accident occurred here, by the by, to a party of gentlemen, among whom Mr. —— was one. They had placed themselves in the empty car at the bottom of the inclined plane, and were being slowly drawn up, as the car loaded with granite descended on the other track. Just as they were approaching the summit, the chain by which the car was drawn up gave way, and it rolled backwards down the plane with fearful velocity, and, starting off the track of the rail-road, pitched down into a ravine full of rocks and blocks of granite, over which the road passes like a bridge at the foot of the quarry. I believe one of them was killed, and the others most terribly injured. The rough blocks of granite are conveyed by horses, in the same rail-road cars, to smaller quarries below, where they are wrought and shaped for their appointed uses. After looking down from the summit of the granite rock upon the country which lay smiling for many a sunny mile of flowery earth and sparkling sea below, and wandering about the works, which are interesting and curious, we remounted, and rode home over turfy wood-paths, through tangled thickets of pine, fir, and cedar, whose warm fragrance was beginning to be drawn forth by the morning sun. We disturbed in our path a poor woodcock, who was sitting with her young: it was a pity to see the poor thing flutter about her treasure, and go trailing a little way into the brush-wood, to entice us away from them. Poor mother! what a tempest of fear and agony was in your downy breast. I was very sorry we had frightened her, poor creature. The country we rode through was extremely pretty,—so, indeed, I think all the country round Boston is; the only deficiency is water,—running water, I mean; for there are several beautiful pools in this vicinity,—and, turn which way you will, the silver shield of the sea shining against the horizon is a lovely feature of the landscape. But there are no rivulets, no brooks, no sparkling singing water-courses to refresh one's senses, as one rides across the fields and through the woodlands. —— called on us on Sunday last. He is very enchanting: I wish it had been my good fortune to see him oftener. One of the great men of this country, he would have been a first-rate man all the world over; and, like all first-rate people, there is a simplicity and a total want of pretension about him that is very delightful. He gave us a description of Niagara, which did what he complained no description of it ever does,—conveyed to us an exact idea of the natural position and circumstances which render these falls so wonderful; whereas, most describers launch forth into vague and untangible rhapsodies, which, after all, convey no express idea of any thing but water in the abstract, he gave me, by his few simple words, a more real impression of the stupendous cataract than all that was ever writ or spoken of waterfalls before, not excepting Byron's Terni. Last Saturday, I dined at ——'s; where, for my greater happiness, I sat between —— and ——. I remember especially two bright things uttered; the one by the one, the other by the other of these worthies. Mr. ——, speaking of Knowles's Hunchback, said, "Well, after all, it's no great matter. The author evidently understands stage effect and dramatic situations, and so on; but as for the writing, it's by no means as good as Shakspeare." I looked at the man in amazement, and suggested to him that Shakspeare did not grow upon every bush. Presently, Mr. —— began a sentence by assuring me that he was a worshipper of Shakspeare; and ended it by saying that Othello was disgusting, King Lear ludicrous, and Romeo and Juliet childish nonsense: whereat I swallowed half a pint of water, and nearly my tumbler too, and remained silent; for what could I say? However, in spite of this, I owe —— some gratitude, for he brought —— to see me the other day, whose face is more like that of a good and intellectual man than almost any face I ever saw. The climate of this place is dreadful! The night before last, the weather was so warm, that, with my window open, I was obliged to take half the clothes off my bed: last night was so cold, that, with window shut, and additional covering, I could scarce get to sleep for the cold. This is terrible, and forms a serious drawback upon the various attractions of Boston; and to me it has many. The houses are like English houses: the Common is like Constitution Hill; Beacon Street is like a bit of Park Lane; and Summer Street, now that the chestnut trees are in bloom, is perfectly beautiful. But for the climate, I should like to live in Boston very much: my stay here has been delightful. It is in itself a lovely place, and the country round it is charming. The people are intellectual, and have been most abundantly good-natured and kind to me.
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I have finished ——'s sermons, which are most excellent. I think he is one of the purest English prose-writers now living. I revere him greatly; yet I do not think his denial of the Trinity is consistent with the argument by which he maintains the truth of the miracles. I have begun the Diary of an Ennuyée again: that book is most enchanting to me,—merely to read the names of the places in which one's imagination goes sunning itself for ever, is delightful.
New York.
I have seen ——, who in his outward man bears but little token of his inward greatness. Miss —— had prepared me for an exterior over which debility and sickness had triumphed now for some years; but, thought I, there must be eyes and a brow; and there the spirit will surely be seen upon its throne. But the eyes were small grey eyes, with an expression which struck me at first as more akin to shrewdness of judgment, than genius and the loftier qualities of the mind; and though the brow and forehead were those of an intellectual person, they had neither the expanse nor conformation I had imagined. The subject of our conversation, though sufficiently natural for him to choose, addressing one of my craft, did not appear to me to be a happy one for his own powers,—perhaps I thought so because I differed from him. He talked about the stage and acting in as unreal, and, in my opinion, mistaken, a manner as possible. Had he expressed himself unknowingly about acting, that would not have surprised me; for he can have no means of judging of it, not having frequented the theatre for some years past: and those who have the best means of forming critical judgments upon dramatic subjects for the most part talk arrant nonsense about them. Lawrence was the only man I ever heard speak about the stage who did so with understanding and accuracy. I have heard the very cleverest men in England talk the greatest stuff imaginable about actors and acting. But to return to ——: he said he had not thought much upon the subject, but that it appeared to him feasible and highly desirable to take detached passages and scenes from the finest dramatic writers, and have them well declaimed in comparatively private assemblies,—this as a wholesome substitute for the stage, of which he said he did not approve; and he thought this the best method of obtaining the intellectual pleasure and profit to be derived from fine dramatic works, without the illusion and excitement belonging to theatrical exhibitions. My horror was so unutterable at this proposition, and my amazement so extreme that he should make it, that I believe my replies to it were all but incoherent. What! take one of Shakspeare's plays bit by bit, break it piece-meal, in order to make recitals of it!—destroy the marvellous unity of one of his magnificent works, to make patches of declamation! If the stage is evil, put it away, and put away with it those writings which properly belong to it, and to nothing else; but do not take dramatic compositions, things full of present action and emotion, to turn them into recitations,—and mutilated ones too. Get other poems to declaim, no matter how vivid or impassioned in their descriptions, so their form be not dramatic. It is not to be supposed that the effect proper and natural to a fine dramatic conception can be preserved when the language is merely declaimed without the assistance of distance, dress, scenic effects,—all the appertainings that the author has reckoned upon to work out his idea. —— mentioned the dagger soliloquy in Macbeth, as an instance which would admit of being executed after his idea; saying, that that, well read by any person in a drawing-room, would have all the effect necessary or desirable. I remember hearing my aunt Siddons read the scenes of the witches in Macbeth; and, while doing so, was obliged to cover my eyes, that her velvet gown, modern cap, and spectacles might not disturb the wild and sublime images that her magnificent voice and recitation were conjuring up around me. If a man professes to tell you a story, no matter what,—say the story of Romeo and Juliet,—and sits in a modern drawing-room, in modern costume, it matters not,—he is no part of his story,—you do not connect him with his narrative,—his appearance in no way clashes with your train of thought,—you are not thinking of him, but of the people he is talking about. But if a man in a modern drawing-room, and in modern costume, were to get up, and begin reciting the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet, I think the case would be altered. However, never having heard such a proposal before, I had not thought much about it, and only felt a little stunned at the idea of Shakspeare's histories being broken into fragments.[100]
Thursday.
At a little after ten, —— came to take us to see the savages. We drove down, D——, my father, he, and I, to their hotel. We found, even at that early hour, the portico, passage, and staircase, thronged with gazers upon the same errand as ourselves. We made our way, at length, into the presence-chamber; a little narrow dark room, with all the windows shut, crowded with people, come to stare at their fellow wild beasts. Upon a sofa sat Black Hawk, a diminutive shrivelled-looking old man, with an appearance of much activity in his shrunk limbs, and a calmness and dignified self-composure in his manner, which, in spite of his want of size and comeliness, was very striking. Next to him sat a young man, the adopted son of his brother the prophet, whose height and breadth, and peculiar gravity of face and deportment, were those of a man nearly forty, whereas he is little more than half that age. The undisturbed seriousness of his countenance was explained to me by their keeper, thus: he had, it seems, the day before, indulged rather too freely in the delights of champagne, and was suffering just retribution in the shape of a headach,—unjust retribution, I should say, for in his savage experience no such sweet bright poison had ever before been recorded, I guess, by the after pain it causes. Next to him sat Black Hawk's son, a noble big young creature, like a fine Newfoundland puppy, with a handsome scornful face, which yet exhibited more familiarity and good-humoured amusement at what was going on than any of the rest. His hair was powdered on the top, and round the ears, with a bright vermilion-coloured powder, and knots of scarlet berries or beads, I don't know which, hung like ear-rings on each side of his face. A string of glass beads was tied round his naked throat; he was wrapped in a large blanket, which completely concealed his form, except his legs and feet, which were clothed in common leather shoes, and a species of deerskin gaiter. He seemed much alive to what was going on, conversed freely in his own language with his neighbour, and laughed once or twice aloud, which rather surprised me, as I had heard so much of their immovable gravity. The costume of the other young man was much the same, except that his hair was not adorned. Black Hawk himself had on a blue cloth surtout, scarlet leggings, a black silk neck-handkerchief, and ear-rings. His appearance altogether was not unlike that of an old French gentleman. Beside him, on a chair, sat one of his warriors, wrapped in a blanket, with a cotton handkerchief whisped round his head. At one of the windows apart from their companions, with less courtesy in their demeanour, and a great deal of sullen savageness in their serious aspects, sat the great warrior, and the prophet of the tribe—the latter is Black Hawk's brother. I cannot express the feeling of commiseration and disgust which the whole scene gave me. That men such as ourselves, creatures with like feelings, like perceptions, should be brought, as strange animals at a show, to be gazed at the livelong day by succeeding shoals of gaping folk, struck me as totally unfitting. The cold dignity of the old chief, and the malignant scowl of the prophet, expressed the indecency and the irksomeness of such a situation. Then, to look at those two young savages, with their fine muscular proportions, and think of them cooped up the whole horrible day long, in this hot prison-house full of people, made my heart ach. How they must loathe the sight of these narrow walls, and the sound of these strange voices; how they must sicken for their unmeasured range of wilderness! The gentleman who seemed to have the charge of them pressed me to go up and shake hands with them, as every body else in the room did; but I refused to do so from literal compassion, and unwillingness to add to the wearisome toil they were made to undergo. As we were departing, however, they reiterated their entreaties that we would go up and shake hands with them,—so I did. Black Hawk and the young men received our courtesy with great complaisance; but when we went to the great warrior and the prophet, they seemed exceedingly loath to receive our hands, the latter particularly, who had, moreover, one of the very worst expressions I think I ever saw upon a human countenance. I instinctively withdrew my hand; but when my father offered his, the savage's face relaxed into a smile, and he met his greeting readily. I wonder what pleased him about my father's appearance, whether it was his large size or not. I had a silver vinaigrette in my pouch, which I gave Black Hawk's son, by way of keepsake: it will make a charming present for his squaw.
Sunday, June 30th.
Rose at four, but, after looking at my watch, resumed my slumbers until six, when I started up, much dismayed to find it so late, and presently, having dressed as fast as ever I could, we set off for the steam-boat. The morning was the brightest possible, the glorious waters that meet before New York were all like rivers of light blazing with the reflected radiance of the morning sky. We had no sooner set foot on board the steam-boat, than a crowd of well-known faces surrounded us: I was introduced to Mr. ——, and Mr. —— the brother of our host at Cold Spring. Mr. —— came and stood by me for a considerable time after we started. It is agreeable to talk to him, because he has known and seen so much; traversed the world in every direction, and been the friend of Byron and Shelley; a common mind, that had enjoyed the same opportunities (that's impossible, by the by, no common mind would have sought or found them), must have acquired something from intercourse with such men, and such wide knowledge of things; but he is an uncommon man, and it is very interesting to hear him talk of what he has seen, and those he has known.
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When we reached West Point, Mr. —— was waiting with his boat to convey us over to Cold Spring; and accordingly, bidding our various acquaintance and companions farewell, we rowed over out of the course of the river, into a sunny bay it forms among the hills, to our kinsman's abode.
Mr. ——'s place is a lovely little nook, situated on the summit of a rise on the brink of the placid curve of water formed here by the river, and which extends itself from the main current about a mile into the mountains, ending in a wide marsh. The house, though upon a hill, is so looked down upon, and locked in by the highlands around it, that it seems to be at the bottom of a valley. From the verandah of his house, through various frames which he has had cut, with exceeding good judgment, among the plantations around the lawn, exquisite glimpses appeared of the mountains, the little bay, the glorious Hudson itself, with the graceful boats for ever walking its broad waters, their white sails coming through the rocky passes where the river could not be detected, as though they were sailing through the valleys of the earth. The day was warm, but a fresh breeze stirred the boughs, and cooled the air. My father and D—— seemed overcome with drowsiness, and lay in the verandah with half-closed eyes, peeping at the dream-like scene around them. I was not inclined to rest; and Mr. —— having promised to show me some falls at a short distance from the house, he, his brother, and I set forth thither. We passed through the iron-works: 'twas Sunday, and every thing, except a bright water-course, laughing and singing as it ran, was still. They took me over the works; showed me the iron frames of large mill-wheels, the machinery and process of boring the cannon, the model of an iron forcing-pump, the casting-houses, and all the wonders of their manufactory. All mechanical science is very interesting to me, when I have an opportunity of seeing the detail of it, and comprehending, by illustrations presented to my eyes, the technical terms used by those conversing with me. We left these dark abodes, and their smouldering fires, and strange powerful-looking instruments, and, taking a path at the foot of the mountains, skirted the marsh for some time, and then struck into the woods, ascending a tremendous stony path, at the top of which we threw ourselves down to pant, and looked below, through a narrow rent in the curtain of leaves around us, on the river, and rocks, and mountains, bright with the noonday splendour of the unclouded sky. After resting here a few moments, we arose, and climbed again, through the woods, across a sweet clover-field, to the brow of the hill where stands the highland school, a cheerful-looking cottage, with the mountain tops all round, the blessed sky above, and the downward sloping woods, and lake-like river below. Passing through the ground surrounding it, we joined a road skirting a deep ravine, from the bottom of which the waters called to me. I was wild to go down, but my companions would not let me: it was in vain that I strained over the brink, the trees were so thickly woven together, and the hollow so deep, that I could see nothing but dark boughs, except every now and then, as the wind stirred them, the white glimmer of the leaping foam, as it sprang away with a shout that made my heart dance. We followed the path, which began to decline; and presently a silver thread of gushing water ran like a frightened child across our way, and flung itself down into the glen. At length we reached the brown golden-looking stream. Mr. —— was exhorting us to take an upper path, which, he said, would bring us to the foot of the fall; but I was not to be seduced away from the side of the rivulet, and insisted upon crossing it then and there, through the water, over moss-capped stones, across fallen trees, which, struck by the lightning, or undermined by the cold-kissing waters, had choked up the brook with their leafy bridges. So striving on, as best we might, after wading through the stream two or three times, we reached the end and aim of our journey, the waterfall. We stood on the brink of a pool, about forty feet across, and varying in depth from three to seven or eight feet: it was perfectly circular, and except on the south, where the waters take their path down the glen, closed round with a wall of rock about thirty feet high, in whose crevices trees with their rifted roots hung fearlessly, clothing the grey stone with a soft curtain of vivid green. Immediately opposite the brook, and at the north of the pool, the water came tumbling over this rocky wall in three distinct streams, which, striking the projecting ledges of iron-looking stone, at different angles, met within eight or ten feet of the pool, and fell in a mingled sheet of foam. The water broke over the rocks like a shower of splintered light; the spray sprang up in the sunlight, and fell again all glittering into the dark basin below, that gleamed like a magic jewel set in the mossy earth. On the edge of the rocks, beside the waterfall, a tree stood out among its greenly-mantled fellows, bare, broken, and scathed to the very roots with lightning. Its upper half had fallen aslant one branch of the waterfall, and lay black and dripping over the pure white torrent; half falling down its course, half stayed by some rocky ledges on which it rested. As I gazed up in perfect ecstasy, an uncontrollable desire seized me to clamber up the rocks by the side of the fall, and so reach the top of it. My companions laughed incredulously as I expressed my determination to do so; but followed where I led, until they became well assured that I was in earnest. Remonstrance, and representation of impossibility, having been tried in vain, Mr. —— prepared to guide me, and Mr. —— with my bag, parasol, and bonnet in charge, returned to the edge of the pool to watch our progress. Away we went over the ledges of the rocks, with nothing but damp leaves, and slippery roots of trees, for footing. At one moment, the slight covering of mould on which I had placed my foot crumbled from beneath it, and I swung over the water by a young sapling which upheld me well, and by which I recovered footing and balance. We had now reached the immediate side of the waterfall, and my guide began ascending the slippery slanting rocks down which it fell. I followed: in an instant I was soaked through with the spray, my feet slipped, I had no hold, he was up above me, the pool far below. With my head bowed against the foam and water, I was feeling where next to tread, when a bit of rock, that my companion had thought firm, broke beneath his foot, and came falling down beside me into the stream. I paused, for I was frightened: I looked up for a moment, but was blinded by the water, and could not see where my guide was; I looked down the slanting ledge we had climbed, over which the white water was churning angrily: "Shall I come down again?" I cried to Mr. ——, who was anxiously looking up at our perilous path. "Give me your hand," shouted his brother, above me. I lifted my head, and turned towards him, and a dazzling curtain of spray and foam fell over my face. "I cannot see you," I replied; "I cannot go on; I do not know what to do." "Give me your hand!" he exclaimed again; and I, planting one foot upon a ledge of rock so high as to lift me off the other, held up my arm to him: but my limbs were so strained from his height above me, that I had no power to spring or move, either up or down. However, I felt my presence of mind going: I knew that to go down was impossible, except headlong; the ascent must therefore be persevered in. "Are you steady, quite, quite steady?" I enquired; he replied, "Yes;" and holding out his hand, I locked mine in it, and bade him draw me up. But he had not calculated upon my weight; my slight appearance had deceived him; and as I bore upon his arm, we both of us slipped. I turned as sick as death; but only cried out, "Recover yourself, recover yourself, I am safe;" which I was, upon a rocky rim about three inches wide, with my arm resting on the falling stump of the blasted tree. He did recover his balance; and, again holding out his hand, drew me up beside where he was sitting, on the edge of the rocks, in the water. We pledged each other in the clear stream; and, standing on the top of our hardly-gained eminence, in the midst of the rushing brook I wrang my handkerchief triumphantly at Mr. ——; which was rather a comical consideration, as I was literally dripping from head to foot. No Naïad ever looked so thoroughly watery, or could have taken more delight in a ducking. As soon as he saw us safe, he scrambled up through the woods to the road; and we doing the same, we presently all met on the dusty highway, where we congratulated each other on our perseverance and success, and laughed very exceedingly at my soaked situation. We determined not to pass through the highland school-ground, but kept the main road for the advantage of sun and wind, the combined influences of which presently dried my frock and handkerchief. When I reached home, ran up stairs, and dressed myself for dinner, which we sat down to at about four. After dinner, came up to my room and slept very profoundly, until summoned to coffee, which we drank in the verandah. At about eight o'clock, the sun had left the sky; but his warm mantle lay over the western clouds, and hung upon the rocks and woody mountain sides. A gentle breeze was stirring the trees round where we sat; and through the thick branches of a chestnut tree, as they waved to and fro, the silver disk of the full moon looked placidly down upon us. We set out strolling through the woods: leisurely as foot could fall, we took our way through the twilight paths; and when we reached the Roman Catholic chapel our host is building by the river side, the silent thoughtful mountains were wrapped in deep shadows, and the broad waters shone like a sheet of silver in the moonlight. We sat down on the cannon lying on the pebbly shore, and Mr. —— ran off to order the boat, which presently came stealing round over the shining waters. We got in, —— rowing, and they put me at the helm: but, owing to Mr. ——'s misdirections, who seemed extremely amused at my awkwardness, and took delight in bothering poor ——, by making me steer all awry, we made but little progress, and that rather crab-wise; backing, and sideling, and turning, as though the poor boat had been a politician.
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Full of my own contemplations, I kept steering round and round, and so we wandered, as purposeless as the night air over the smooth waters, and beneath the shadows of the solemn hills, till near eleven o'clock, when we made for shore, and slowly turned home. We sat for a length of time under the verandah: the gentlemen were discussing the planetary system, as accepted in the civilised world; and Mr. —— maintained, with sufficient plausibility, that we knew nothing at all about it, in spite of Newton: for that, though his theories were borne out by all observation, it did not follow, therefore, that another theory equally probable might not exist; that because he had found out one way of accounting for the construction and motion of the heavenly bodies, there was no other possible way in which they were constructed and impelled; because one means is sufficient, he argued, it does not thence follow, that 'tis the only sufficient means. Mr. —— maintained that there was, at least, strong presumption in favour of Newton's systems; because they are borne out by our observation of results, and also because hitherto no other better method of accounting for what we perceive has been discovered. And so they went on, the end of all being, to my mind, as usual, utter unsatisfactoriness; and, as the mosquitoes were stinging me, I left them to their discussions, and came to bed.
Monday, July 1st.
Major —— and Mr. —— came over from West Point: they were going to prove some cannon that had not yet been fired; and some time passed in the various preparations for so doing. At length, we were summoned down to the water-side, to see the success of the experiment. The cannon lay obliquely one behind the other, at intervals of about six yards, along the curve line of the little bay; their muzzles pointed to the high gravelly bank into which they fired. The guns were double-loaded, with very heavy charges; and as soon as we were safely placed, so as to see and hear, they were fired. The sound was glorious: the first heavy peal, and then echo after echo, as they rimbombavano among the answering hills, who growled aloud at the stern voice waking their still and noonday's deep repose. I pushed out in the boat, from shore, to see the thick curtain of smoke as it rolled its silver, and brassy, and black volumes over the woody mountain-sides; parting in jagged rents as it rose; through which the vivid green, and blessed sky, smiled in their peaceful loneliness. They ended in discharging all the cannon at once; which made a most glorious row, and kept the mountains grumbling with its echoes for some minutes after the discharge. All the pieces were sound; which was highly satisfactory, as upon each one that flaws in the firing Mr. —— loses the cost of the piece. Just as the smoke cleared off from the river, we saw the boat making to shore; and, presently, Mr. ——, his wife and children, and a young Mr. ——, landed. After introductions, and one or two questions, Mrs. —— went up to her cottage to put things in order there; Mr. —— betook himself to Froissart and the shade; Mr. —— to his business; and D——, my father, Mr. —— and myself, set forth to the fountain in the glen. The weather was intensely hot; the thermometer above ninety in the shade; it was about half-past twelve; and we toiled and gasped on like so many Indians up the steep path. The walk had been so laborious, that neither D—— nor my father were willing, at first, to admit that the object was a sufficient one. We sat for some time by the dark shady pool; and they, by degrees, recovered their breath and complacency, and began to perceive how beautiful the place really was. My father said the waterfall looked like a fine lace veil torn by the rocks; which pleased me, because it did look like that. Mr. —— proposed an admirable plan, that of walking down the water's side, and taking a boat upon the Hudson; and so avoiding the long hot walk home. We called at the highland school; where the worthy man who keeps it received us with infinite civility, put us into a delicious cool room, and gave us some white hermitage and water to drink, which did us all manner of good.[101] We then descended to the river: after some delay and difficulty, got a boat and rowed home.
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Tuesday, 2d.
Packed up my bag, took a cup of tea, went and gathered some flowers, and gave the poor lamb some heads of clover; bade a very unwilling farewell to the pretty place, and rowed over to West Point, where Mr. —— was waiting for us. We breakfasted at ten, and went down to meet the boat. Young Mr. —— came over to see us off, and brought me some lovely fresh flowers. Mr. —— and Mr. —— were both at the embarking-post. When the boat came up, the rush to and from it was, without exception, the most frightful thing I ever saw. The ——s were landing; and I just spoke to her, as she was borne past by the throng. Safely on board, I again found myself surrounded by familiar faces: I took out my work, and Mr. —— sat down by us. As a nuisance, which all unsought-for companionship is, he is quite the most endurable possible; for he has seen such things, and known such people, that it is greatly worth while to listen to him. Every thing he says of Byron and Shelley confirms my own impression of them. The scenery of the Hudson, immediately beyond West Point, loses much of its sublimity, though no beauty. The river widens, and the rugged summits of the highlands melt gradually into a softer and more undulating outline. The richness, and swelling, and falling of the land reminded me occasionally of England. The yellow grain was giving diversity and warmth to the green landscape; and the shadowy woods fencing the corn-fields threw over the whole picture a sheltering peaceful charm. On the left, we presently began to see the blue outline of the Catskill mountains, towering into the hot sky, and looking most blessedly cool and dark amid the fervid glowing of the noonday world. Mrs. —— came on board at one of the stopping places. I was quite glad to see her sweet face, and hear her gentle voice again. Mr. —— was greatly smitten with her calm look of repose, and lulling speech, and took to her vehemently. She told me long stories, like fairy tales, of caverns lately discovered in the bosom of these mountains; of pits black and fathomless; of subterranean lakes in gloomy chambers of the earth; and tumbling waters, which fall down in the dark, where men heard, but none had dared to go. How I should like to go there! Oh, who will lead me into the secret parts of the earth; who will guide me to the deep hiding-places where spirits are—where the air of this upper world is not breathed, and its sounds are unknown—where the light of the sun is unseen, and the voice of human creatures unheard? how I should like to go there! At about half-past three in the afternoon, the sky became suddenly and thickly overcast: the awning which sheltered the upper deck was withdrawn, and every preparation made for a storm. The pale angry-looking clouds lay heaped like chalk upon a leaden sky; and presently one red lightning dipped down into the woods like a fiery snake falling from the heavens. At the same time, a furious gust of wind and torrent of rain rushed down the mountain side. We scuttled down to the lower deck as fast as ever we could; but the storm met us at the bottom of the stairs, and in an instant I was drenched. Chairs, tables, every thing was overturned by the gust; and the boat was running with water in every direction. It thundered and lightened a little; but the noise of the engine was such, that we scarce heard the storm. I stood by the door of the furnace, and dried leisurely, talking the while to Mr. ——, who is sun-burnt enough to warm one through with a look. During our progress, one of the wheels (or paddles, as they are properly called) took it into its head to knock its case to pieces, and banged the boards about in a strange way. Accident the second:—one of the men, a black, who was employed in tending the fire, got so dreadfully heated with the intense furnace, that he rushed out of the engine-room, and swallowed two or three draughts of cold water. The effect was instantaneous: he fell down in violent internal spasms, and died, poor wretch! before we arrived at Albany. We reached that town at about half-past five in the afternoon, and went to a house the ——s recommended to us. At about seven, they gave us dinner; and immediately after I came up to my own room. I was so exhausted with fatigue, and a violent cold and cough, that I literally fell down on the floor, and slept till dark. As we came up the river, we passed Dr. ——'s place, Hyde Park, which has the reputation of being the best-kept private estate in America: the situation of the house, on the edge of a ridge, appeared to me, from the river, rather too much exposed.
Saturday, 6th.
My father had settled to go to the Cohoes Falls.
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When we were in the steam-boat, going up to Troy,[102] —— put a letter into my hands, which he told me was written by the mother of Allegra, Byron's child. The letter was remarkable only for more straightforwardness and conciseness than is usual in women's letters. I do not know whether —— gave it me to read on that account alone, or because it contained allusions to wild and interesting adventures of his own: perhaps there was a mingling of motives. There never was, by the by, a homogeneous motive, as Brewster would say, in the human breast. We reached Troy in about twenty minutes, and walked up into the town to procure some species of vehicle for our progress to the falls. There was none ready; and while one was being procured, a man, who was standing near us, very civilly invited us to come into his shop and sit down, which we did very readily. The situation of the warehouses, on the side near the river, of the main street of Troy, is exceedingly pretty. They are, for the most part, large long rooms, opening to the street at the one end, and on the other looking down, from a considerable height, upon the Hudson. The shop we were in was a china-store; and the nice cold crockery-ware made one cool to look at it: the weather was roasting. Mr. —— left us to gather information, and kindly brought me back word that the population of Troy was five hundred, or five thousand, I really forget which; and, for my journal, it don't much matter; and that the storekeeper assured him the Trojans were an exceedingly refined and literary set of folks; and that the society, in point of these two advantages, was no whit behind Boston: there's for Boston!—We obtained a coach, and crossed a ferry, such as I had never seen before, worked by horses. Poor wretches! they reminded me of ——'s steeds, Martyre et Souffrance. Mr. —— observed that they led the life of the majority; and so they do,—labour and suffering that custom renders endurable, and that ends by grinding down every faculty of mind or soul: we're a blessed pack of drudges, and deserve to be just what we are. After crossing the ferry, we drove about five miles through some gentle smiling lands, that made one feel very charitable. The Cohoes is, I believe, a Dutch name for a hill just above a turn in the Mohawk, where, after some shallow, rapid, hasty running over a rocky bed, the river flings itself down over a broad barrier, between thirty and forty feet high, with the most delightful gushing sound in the world. The foam looked very nice, and soft, and thick, and cold: I longed to be in the middle of it.
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After wandering about for some time, we sat ourselves down on a high grassy knoll just above the falls.
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We returned in time, as we flattered ourselves, to meet the steam-boat which leaves Troy for Albany at four; but, just as we were crossing the ferry, the steamer ran past us, leaving us, with eyes and mouths wide open, very much bothered as to how we were to get down to Albany. D—— proposed a row-boat, and the sense of the company seemed to agree thereto; but, upon driving to the inn where we hired our carriage, and enquiring for such a conveyance, we were assured that there was no such thing to be had: whereupon my father, good easy man! believed there was not, and got into the coach again. Mr. ——, however, had absconded, and remained gone so long, that I began to think he had, perhaps, started to swim down the river; when he presently appeared, informing us that he had gotten a boat for us. We jumped readily out of the coach; and, though my father had actually made a bargain for the hire of it, to convey us to Albany, with the innkeeper, and, moreover, given him the money, the righteous man refunded the dollars; which, Falstaff knows, is a displeasing thing to do: "I hate that paying back!" Our row back was delightful: the evening was calm and lovely beyond description; the sun had lost his fierceness, and the warm air clasped the fresh woods tenderly; the waters were unbroken as a mirror; the very spirit of love and peace possessed the world: the effect of all which was to send me into a very sound sleep.
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We reached Albany in very good time for dinner. Mr. —— dined with us: what a savage he is, in some respects! He's a curious being: a description of him would puzzle any one who had never seen him. A man with the proportions of a giant for strength and agility; taller, straighter, and broader than most men; yet with the most listless indolent carelessness of gait, and an uncertain wandering way of dropping his feet to the ground, as if he didn't know where he was going, and didn't much wish to go any where. His face is as dark as a Moor's; with a wild strange look about the eyes and forehead, and a mark like a scar upon his cheek: his whole appearance giving one an idea of toil, hardship, peril, and wild adventure. The expression of his mouth is remarkably mild and sweet, and his voice is extremely low and gentle. His hands are as brown as a labourer's: he never profanes them with gloves, but wears two strange magical-looking rings: one of them, which he showed me, is made of elephant's hair.
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Occasionally, in his horror of one class of prejudices, he embraces the opposite ones: perhaps the extreme of any evil, in this world of imperfect means, can only be effectually resisted by its reverse extreme.
Monday, 8th.
After breakfast, went to rehearsal: Mr. —— came with us. The actors were one and all reading their parts: the lady who played Charlotte was the only exception—she was perfect. As I sat on the stage, between my scenes, a fat, good-tempered, rosy, bead-eyed, wet-haired, shining-faced looking man accosted me; and, having ascertained that I was myself, proceeded to accuse me of having, in Mrs. Haller, pronounced the word "industry" with the accent on the middle syllable, as "industry;" adding, that he had already quoted my authority to several people for the emphasis, and begging to know my "exquisite reason" therefor. It was in vain that I urged that it must have been a mistake if I said so; that I never meant to say so, if I did say so; that if I did say so, I was very wrong to say so; that I was very sorry for having said so; that I never would say so again. Between each of my humblest apologies my accuser merely replied, "But you did say industry," with an inflexible pertinacity of condemnation, which was not a whit softened by my sincere confessions. Presently the worthy creature, adverting to the letter in the Mirror about General Jackson, begged that as I had passed the fourth of July, that glorious anniversary, in Albany, I would illustrate its celebration by some remarks in the style of that admirable composition. Great was the fat man's surprise, and evident his contempt for me, when I disclaimed the authorship of that document. Greater still waxed both, when I assured him that on the fourth of July I positively walked out of the town, to avoid the noise in it. After this, he remained gazing at me in silent amazement; and, as soon as he had sufficiently recovered from it to move, he took up his hat, and briefly wished me "good morning." Mr. —— told me the man was a newspaper-editor; but I think he looked too fat, and fresh, and good-tempered for that. When we returned home, sat down to write journal.
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The play was the Gamester: the house was very full. Mr. —— did not know one syllable of his part, and bothered me utterly. At the end of the play, they called for my father, and civilly desired we would act the Hunchback; as, however, we had not the dresses for it with us, he declined, but promised we would return hereafter.
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Tuesday, 9th.
After breakfast, the day being extremely fine, Mr. —— urged us to go out, and take a walk; so forth we set, my father and I leading the way, and D—— and Mr. —— following.
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We crossed the river, and, following the first road like a flock of geese errant, arrived at the top of a delightful breezy knoll, opposite a tiny waterfall, the rocks and basin of which were picturesque; but the water had been turned off to turn a mill. The hill where we stood commanded a beautiful view of the Hudson, Albany, and the shores stretching away into sunny indistinctness. My father, and D——, and Mr. ——, sat down under some oak trees: I ran off to explore the stream.
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After looking about in every direction, I returned to my friends: we strolled away through the woods and along the high road, with the sweet smell of mellow hay keeping us company the while. We halted at an orchard corner, near a pleasant-looking farm, where we all agreed we should like to live.
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Mr. —— killed us with laughing with an account he gave us of some of Byron's sayings and doings, which were just as whimsical and eccentric as unamiable, but very funny. To-morrow we start for Utica: Mr. —— comes with us: I am glad of it—I like him.
Wednesday, 10th.
Just as we were getting into the railroad coach for Schenectady, a parcel was put into my hand: it was a letter from ——, and Pellico's "Mie Prigioni:" I was glad of it. At Schenectady we dined. By the by, I must not forget to mention the civility we met with from the people who kept the house. There have been so many instances given of the discomfort and discourteousness which travellers encounter in America, that it is but justice to record the reverse when one meets with it. For my own part, with very few exceptions, I have hitherto met with nothing but civility and attention of every description. We have almost always commanded private sitting, and single sleeping, rooms; have had our meals served in tolerable comfort and decency; and even on board the steam-boats, where every thing is done by shoal, I have found that, in spite of being an inveterate dawdle, and never ready at any of the bell-ringings, I have always had a place reserved for me, and enough to eat without fighting for it. But to return to our Schenectady hosts. The house was very full; and, while waiting for the canal boat, to avoid the gaping crowds with which all the rooms were filled, D—— and I walked out into the verandah, when a pretty lassie, the daughter, I conclude, of the house, invited us into a very nice private parlour, belonging to the family, where I found a fine piano, books, music, and all civilisation as well as civility. We proceeded by canal to Utica, which distance we performed in a day and a night, starting at two from Schenectady, and reaching Utica the next day at about noon. I like travelling by the canal boats very much. Ours was not crowded; and the country through which we passed being delightful, the placid moderate gliding through it, at about four miles and a half an hour, seemed to me infinitely preferable to the noise of wheels, the rumble of a coach, and the jerking of bad roads, for the gain of a mile an hour. The only nuisances are the bridges over the canal, which are so very low, that one is obliged to prostrate one's self on the deck of the boat, to avoid being scraped off it; and this humiliation occurs, upon an average, once every quarter of an hour. Mr. —— read Don Quixote to us: he reads very peculiarly; slowly, and with very marked emphasis. He has a strong feeling of humour, as well as of poetry: in fact, they belong to each other; for humour is but fancy laughing, and poetry but fancy sad. The valley of the Mohawk, through which we crept the whole sunshining day, is beautiful from beginning to end; fertile, soft, rich, and occasionally approaching sublimity and grandeur in its rocks and hanging woods. We had a lovely day, and a soft blessed sunset, which, just as we came to a point where the canal crosses the river, and where the curved and wooded shores on either side recede, leaving a broad smooth basin, threw one of the most exquisite effects of light and colour I ever remember to have seen over the water and through the sky. The sun had scarce been down ten minutes from the horizon, when the deck was perfectly wet with the heaviest dew possible, which drove us down to the cabin. Here I fell fast asleep, till awakened by the cabin girl's putting her arms affectionately round me, and telling me that I might come and have the first choice of a berth for the night, in the horrible hen-coop allotted to the female passengers. I was too sleepy to acknowledge or avail myself of the courtesy; but the girl's manner was singularly gentle and kind. We sat in the men's cabin until they began making preparations for bed, and then withdrew into a room about twelve feet square, where a whole tribe of women were getting to their beds. Some half undressed, some brushing, some curling, some washing, some already asleep in their narrow cribs, but all within a quarter of an inch of each other: it made one shudder. As I stood cowering in a corner, half asleep, half crying, the cabin girl came to me again, and entreated me to let her make a bed for me. However, upon my refusing to undress before so much good company, or lie down in such narrow neighbourhood, she put D—— and myself in a small closet, where were four empty berths, where I presently fell fast asleep, where she established herself for the night, and where D——, wrapped up in a shawl, sat till morning under the half-open hatchway, breathing damp starlight.
Thursday, 11th.
D——'s exclamations woke me in the morning: the day was breaking brightly, and the dewy earth was beginning to smile in the red dawn, when we approached Little Falls, a place where the placid gentle character of the Mohawk becomes wild and romantic, and beautifully picturesque. The canal is for some space cut through the solid rock, and the banks, high and bold, were crowned with tangled woods, and gemmed with wild flowers, and the delicate vivid tufts of fern. It was exceedingly beautiful; and though I believe I missed some part of the scenery immediately surrounding Little Falls, the approach to it, which is of the same nature, enchanted me extremely. When we arrived at Utica, I gave the nice cabin-girl my silver needle-case: her tenderness and care of me the night before made it impossible for me to offer her money. She took my gift, and, throwing her arms round my neck, kissed me very fervently for it. I was struck with her manner, which had appeared to me, in discharge of her common duties, reserved, and rather dignified. This exhibition of feeling surprised me therefore; and together with her dark eyes, hair, and complexion, made me think she must have foreign blood in her veins. I asked her, but she said no: American by birth, English by descent: certainly she had neither the face nor bearing of the one or the other. She was a very singular and striking looking person. As for Mr. ——, he fell in love with her forthwith, and, I think, had half a mind to settle on the Mohawk, and make her his fellow farmer. At Utica we dined; and after dinner I slept profoundly. The gentlemen, I believe, went out to view the town, which twenty years ago was not, and now is a flourishing place, with fine-looking shops, two or three hotels, good broad streets, and a body of lawyers, who had a supper at the house where we were staying, and kept the night awake with champagne, shouting, toasts, and clapping of hands: so much for the strides of civilisation through the savage lands of this new world. The house was full, and we could not get a room to ourselves; so we sat in a corner of the large dining-room. Passed the evening in writing journal. Mr. —— showed me his of Sunday last.
Friday, 12th.
We all breakfasted early together, and immediately after breakfast got into an open carriage and set off for Trenton. D—— and my father sat beside each other, and I opposite them; Mr. —— on the box; and so we progressed. The day was bright and breezy: the country was all smiling round us in rich beauty; the ripening sheets of waving grain; the sloping fields, with here and there the grey tomb-stone of a forest tree; the vivid thickets bounding the pale harvest plots; the silvery-looking fences, with their irregular lines relieved against the dark woods; the clear sky above; all was lovely. About seven miles from Utica, we stopped to water the horses at a lonely road-side house: we alighted, and without ceremony strolled into the garden,—a mere wilderness of overgrown sweet briar, faint breathing dog-roses, and flaunting red poppies, overshadowed by some orchard trees, from which we stole sundry half-ripe cherries. The place was desolate, I believe; yet we lingered in it, and did not think it so. We got into the carriage again: the remaining eight miles of our journey were as beautiful and as bad as the preceding ones had been. I thought of our dark drive back through these miry and uneven ways. At last we reached the house at which visiters to the Falls put up; a large comfortable dwelling enough, kept by a couple of nice young people, who live in this solitude all the year round, and maintain themselves and a beautiful big baby by the profits they derive from the pilgrims to Trenton. We ordered dinner, and set forth to the Falls, with our host for guide. We crossed a small wood immediately adjoining the house, and, descending several flights of steps connected by paths in the rocky bank, we presently stood on the brink of the channel, where the water was boiling along, deep, and black, and passing away like time. We followed along the rocky edge: the path is not more than a foot wide, and is worn into all manner of unevenness and cavities, and slippery with the eternal falling of the spray. —— walked before me: we dared not turn our heads, for fear of tumbling into the black whirlpool below. We walked on steadily, warning each other at every step, and presently we arrived at the first fall, where the rest of our party were halting. I can't describe it: I don't know either its height or width; I only know it was extremely beautiful, and came pouring down like a great rolling heap of amber. The rocks around are high to the heavens, scooped, and singularly regular; and the sides of the torrent are every now and then paved with large smooth layers of rock, as even and regular in their proportions as if the fairies had done the work. After standing before the tumbling mass of water for a length of time, we climbed to the brink above, and went on. Mr. —— flung himself down under a roof of rock by the waterfall. My father, D——, and the guide, went on out of sight, and —— and I loitered by the rapid waters, flinging light branches and flowers upon the blood-coloured torrent, that whirled, and dragged, and tossed them down to the plunge beneath. When we came to the beautiful circular fall, we crept down to a narrow ridge, and sat with our feet hanging over the black caldron, just opposite a vivid rainbow that was clasping the waterfall. We sat here till I began to grow dizzy with the sound and motion of the churning darkness beneath us, and begged to move, which we did very cautiously. I was in an agony lest we should slip from the narrow dripping ledges along which we crawled. We wandered on, and stopped again at another fall, upon a rocky shelf overhanging the torrent, beside the blasted and prostrate trunk of a large tree. I was tired with walking, and —— was lifting me up to seat me on the fallen tree, when we saw Mr. —— coming slowly towards us. He stopped and spoke to us, and presently passed on; we remained behind, talking, and dipping our hands into the fresh water. At length we rejoined the whole party, sitting by a narrow channel, where the water looked like ink. Beyond this our guide said it was impossible to go: I was for ascertaining this by myself, but my father forbade me to attempt the passage further. I was thirsty; and the guide having given me a beautiful strawberry and a pale blue-bell, that he had found, like a couple of jewels in some dark crevice of the rocks, I devoured the one, and then going down to the black water's edge, we dipped the fairy cup in, and drank the cold clear water, with which abundant draught I relieved my father's thirst also.[103] Around the place where we were resting, the rocks rose like circular walls up to the very sky. From their overhanging edges, tiny threads of water fell upon the rocky pavement beneath, with a silver glancing, and a clear plashing tone, that sounded even amid the hoarse talking of the dark waters below. In some mould among these cliffs, at their very highest edge, a tree had struck its roots, and, growing upside down, stretched its drooping green arms to the hurrying stream below, that would not tarry. We had walked, I suppose, a mile and a half along the water's side, and in this distance its course is broken by six beautiful cataracts. The variety of the colour of the water, occasioned by the various depths of its channel, and the different tints of the rocks over which it flows, is singular. Where the river expands, its rapid broken waves were of the darkest red-brown, like coffee; or rather, indeed, redder than that, like a deep blood colour: reaching the walls of rock, over which they fall into a lower bed, they became pouring masses of amber and diamonds, or soft thick heaps of whitest foam; and then again, in the deep narrow channels which received their headlong leaping, all was black as blackest night, and the waters were sucked away under the hollow rocks in inky eddies, that made me think of drowning with double horror. The several falls are very various in their height and forms, but they are all beautiful, most beautiful; not a place to visit for a day, but to live the summer away in.