voice of ages must roll, for the first time, on my ear. The French
gentleman stretched himself from the window, and expressed loud
admiration, while, by a sudden impulse, I threw myself back and closed
my eyes. When the scene shut in, I was glad to think, that for me the
whole burst of Niagara was yet in futurity. We rolled on, and entered
the village of Manchester, bordering on the falls.

I am quite ashamed of myself here. Not that I ran, like a madman to the
falls, and plunged into the thickest of the spray,--never stopping to
breathe, till breathing was impossible: not that I committed this, or
any other suitable extravagance. On the contrary, I alighted with
perfect decency and composure, gave my cloak to the black waiter,
pointed out my baggage, and inquired, not the nearest way to the
cataract, but about the dinner-hour. The interval was spent in
arranging my dress. Within the last fifteen minutes, my mind had grown
strangely benumbed, and my spirits apathetic, with a slight depression,
not decided enough to be termed sadness. My enthusiasm was in a
deathlike slumber. Without aspiring to immortality, as he did, I could
have imitated that English traveller, who turned back from the point
where he first heard the thunder of Niagara, after crossing the ocean to
behold it. Many a Western trader, by the by, has performed a similar
act of heroism with more heroic simplicity, deeming it no such wonderful
feat to dine at the hotel and resume his route to Buffalo or Lewiston,
while the cataract was roaring unseen.

Such has often been my apathy, when objects, long sought, and earnestly
desired, were placed within my reach. After dinner--at which an
unwonted and perverse epicurism detained me longer than usual--I lighted
a cigar and paced the piazza, minutely attentive to the aspect and
business of a very ordinary village. Finally, with reluctant step, and