iptive cairn heaped up by generations
of tourists in honor of the King-Cataract; simply because it is
presumption in any man to pass judgment on that famous scene till he has
studied it for more days than I could spare hours. I do not think, the
eye is disappointed, even at first sight: after being fully prepared by
Church's vivid picture--a very triumph of transparent coloring--you
still stand dumb in honest admiration of that one miracle in the midst
of wonders--the central curve of the Horse-shoe--where the main current
plunges over the verge, without a ripple to break the grandeur of the
clear, smooth chrysoprase, flashing back the sunlight through a filmy
lace-work of foam. But the ear is certainly dissatisfied: perhaps my
acoustics were out of order, as well as other cephalic organs; but it
struck me that Niagara hardly _made any noise at all_. Yet I penetrated
under the Fall as far as there is practicable foothold; and listened at
all sorts of distances for a _deafening_ roar, which never came.
I started eastward again by that same night's express. I cannot let
this, my last experience, pass, without recording my vote on the
much-mooted question of American railway travel. The natives, of course,
extol the whole system as one of the greatest of their institutions; but
I cannot understand any difference of opinion among strangers. The
baggage arrangement--except when the Company suffers under an aberration
of intellect, such as I have mentioned on the Niagara route--is really
convenient, and the _commissionaires_ attached to every train relieve
you of all responsibility at your journey's end, by collecting your
effects and transporting them to any given direction; but this solitary
advantage does not counterbalance other _desagremens_. When the weather
is such as to allow a true current of air to circulate through the car,
the atmosphere is barely endurable; but with stoves at work, and all
apertures closed, it soon becomes dangerously oppressive. The German
element prevails strongly throughout Yankee-land: perhaps this accounts
for the natives' dread of fresh air. Your only chance of escaping from
semi-suffocation is to secure a seat next to a window, and keep it open,
hardening your heart against all the grumbling of your neighbors, who
run through a whole gamut of complaints, in the hope of softening or
shaming the Hyperborean. Sometimes you will have to encounter menaces;
but, in such a cause, it is surely wor
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