the Oswego river, and the same at every rapid of
the river; in all, there is a fall of one hundred and sixty feet.
Simple as locks are, I could not help reverting to the wild rapids at
Trenton Falls, and reflecting upon how the ingenuity of man had so
easily been able to overcome and control Nature! The locks did not
detain us long--they never lose time in America. When the boat had
entered the lock, and the gate was closed upon her, the water was let
off with a rapidity which considerably affected her level, and her bows
pointed downwards. I timed one lock with a fall of fifteen feet. From
the time the gate was closed behind us until the lower one was opened
for our egress, was exactly one minute and a quarter; and the boat sank
down in the lock so rapidly as to give you the idea that she was
scuttled and sinking.

The country round the Oswego is fertile and beautiful, and the river,
with its islands, falls, and rapids, very picturesque. At one p.m. we
arrived at the town of Oswego, on Lake Ontario; I was pleased with the
journey, although, what with ducking to bridges, bites from mosquitoes,
and the constant blowing of their unearthly horn with only one note, and
which one must have been borrowed from the gamut of the infernal
regions, I had had enough of it.

For the first time since my arrival in the country, no one--that is to
say, on board the canal-boat--knew who I was. As we tracked above the
Oswego river, I fell into conversation with a very agreeable person, who
had joined us at Syracuse. We conversed the whole day, and I obtained
much valuable information from him about the country: when we parted, he
expressed a wish that we should meet again. He gave me his name and
address, and when I gave my card in return, he looked at it, and then
said, "I am most happy to make your acquaintance, sir; but I will
confess that had I known with whom I had been conversing, I should not
have _spoken so freely_ upon certain points connected with the
government and institutions of this country." This was American all
over; they would conceal the truth, and then blame us because we do not
find it out. I met him afterwards, but he never would enter into any
detailed conversation with me.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Niagara Falls.--Perhaps the wisest, if not the best description of the
Falls of Niagara, is in the simple ejaculation of Mrs Butler; for it is
almost useless to attempt to describe when you feel