hear that Lett, the incendiary, escaped unscathed, and was still at large in the States. Passing through a rich, picturesque, and fertile country, a sound "like the rushing of many waters"-the roar of the Falls -was heard; and presently, descending from our rickety conveyance at the door of the Clifton House, the far-famed Falls of Niagara were before us. At first sight, I was disappointed; for though the coup d'œil from Clifton House embracing both the Horse-shoe fall and the American, and the wooded isle that seems to quake in the midst of the war of elements-is unrivalled, the height of the Falls is materially diminished, and consequently their effect is lost by viewing them from the banks of the river, which are on a level with the head of the Schute. It was only on crossing the river at the ferry that I became impressed with the awful grandeur of the scene, and the first impression destroyed. The books in which visitors incribe their names, &c., at the tablerock, or pavilion, deserve to be ranked amongst the curiosities of literature. I am sorry to say they are sadly mutilated, and sometimes whole pages torn out, by sacrilegious visitors. Here we find all sorts of effusions, for the noise and uproar of Falls beneath seem to inspire the visitors, and even the most stolid and Dutch, wax poetical; during my visits to the tablerock, I took the liberty to transcribe some of those bleatings into my note book.

Extract from the Visitors' Book, 1841.-Table Rock
House:

"Here I record the startling fact-
I've been beneath the cataract:

Bid Niagara's fairest daughter

Bring me a glass of gin and water;

'What have you seen beneath that fall,'
Let shrinking clerks and spinsters squall ;
Naiads and muses, one and all,
Apollo, and ye sacred nine,

Inspire me to write something fine.
Yon soaplock darts a hungry look,
He's dying to devour my book.
That fairy-footed child of song
Murmurs He keeps the book too long.'
While this dear creature, growing bolder,
Reads what I scribble, o'er my shoulder.
Gin sling-gin sling, ye gods and fishes,
A sherry cobbler, be propitious;
A brandy cocktail, waiter-fellow-
The cataract I must outbellow.
Pegasus rears-he's in a hurry,

My Charon swears he'll cross the ferry;
Without an Obolus I find

It will not do to stay behind;
And having bravely battled so far,
'Fly round an Independent loafer.'

"SAM SLICK."

"Babbler, forbear; in silence go thy ways,
And in oblivion end thy doleful days—
My holy awe is turn'd to shame and rage,
To find such nonsense scribbled on this page.

"EZRA TIBBS."

"By my troth, Arcades Ambo, Blackguards both,

What think you, Massa Sambo?

"I've seen the falls of Terni,

The lakes of sweet Killarney;
This waterfall it beats them all
Without a bit of blarney.

It need no further journey.

"ADAM SMYTH."

"I've seen a burning mountain,
And wonders past all counting;
Have taken tay over the way,
Beside a burning fountain.

"The only thing I wish is,
I may escape the fishes,
And safely spy old Ireland's eye,
For I am not ambitious;

I need no further journey.

“My love, my life, my cara,

Shall hear of Niagara ;

When, without fuss, she gives a buss,

To her own T. O'Mara.

I need no further journey."

"Where is the red man, where the tameless child-
Soul of the desert, monarch of the scene?
He stood unblench'd and heedless in the midst

Of warring elements, the direful jar

Of riven rocks and mountains rent in twain ;
While crashing forests of the sturdy oak,
The giant pine, and dwarfish tamarack
Glanced wildly by, like leaflets in the blast,
When Erie, rising in his pearly shroud,
Leap'd like a billow from the vasty deep,
Pursued by Huron, chased by Michigan,

Impell'd to burst his bonds by Superior
What barrier could stay that band of brothers?
The mighty ravine opens, and a peal

Of stunning thunder bids the earth recoil,
Ere the unbridled waters madly sweep,
And crested Erie took his fearful leap
Down Niagara to Ontario.

"EURIKA THRUMS."

"Where is the red man? where is the white man? Where is the black man? all right-good night, man.

"PETER PARLE."

"C'est trop-c'est trop, mon ami,
Trop difficile d'écrire.

፡፡

Je ne puis pas vous exprimiez,

Tous ce que ce lieu m'inspire—
Jamais-Jamais-Jamais!

Niagara est unique,

La chûte, la plus grand, la plus belle,

Superb-sublime-magnifique !
Enfin, c'est-pretty well.

"DE JOINVILLE."

"When God speaks, let man hold his tongue.

"ICHABOD CRANE."

"The above was loan'd, stolen, or stray'd, from John Bunnion

or Doctor Watts.

"SY. BAGGS, M. O. U., Missouri."

"Sy Baggs,

Father of Wags,

Who the devil are you?

Take Bunnion and Watts,

And tinker your pots,

In M. O. U.

"J. BARLOW, Boston."

"What a glorious water power is here; fully sufficient to drive all the mill wheels in the Union, I calculate.

"J. HOBBS, Ramsbottom."

"My! what an almighty plan for washing sheep.

"L. HOOSIER, Miss."

Here follows a long rigmarole in Dutch, savouring of Scheidam and the Zuyder Zee; and another effu

sion in the Eurika Thrums style, which I skip over, and conclude my elegant extracts with

"Here in the balcony,

Basking' like any fly,'

I slantindicular sit in my chair,

Whiffing a light cigar

Over this water war,

All at my ease, with my heels in the air.

"Fly round, my tulips,

Bring me mint julips,

Iced to a miracle-fix'd with a straw

Wooing the eager lip

Deeper to suck and sip,

Rich as a bottom in sweet Arkansaw.

"Writing and rhyming,

And all this tall climbing,

Tickles my fancy, though all in my eye-
Boy with a corn cob,

Lightly my shoulders rub,

Ecstasy ecstasy-now let me die!

"N. P. WILLIS."

"Take off every stitch of your clothes, lock them up in this drawer, put on this here red shirt, duck pants, straw hat, and slippers," said the host of the pavilion, to whom I signified my intention to visit that delectable grotto under the horse-shoe fall.

I obeyed, with certain reservations, as I did not at all admire the damp flimsy habiliments tendered for my outward man; and followed the guide down steep flights of slippery stairs and steps to the water's edge. Here, pausing a moment to view the terrible yet magnificent scene, we pushed on to the table rock, drenched with spray and mist, en avant. The guide laid hold on a penny cord, nailed into the trembling rocks; he disappeared under the broad sheet. Holding my light