water level. The distance
from the verge of the cliff, over the arch to the water, is one
hundred and thirty-three feet, leaving three feet for the thickness of
the rock above the arch itself. The extreme height of the cliff is
about fifty feet more, making in all one hundred and eighty-three
feet. It is impossible, adequately, to describe this wonderful scene.
The vast dimensions of the cavern, the vaulted passages, the rare
combination of colors, the varied effects of the light as it streams
through the great arch and falls on the different objects; the deep,
emerald green of the water, the unvarying swell of the lake, keeping
up a succession of musical echoes; the reverberation of one's voice
coming back with startling effect, must all be seen and heard to be
fully appreciated.

Not far from this point is "The chapel" of the voyagers which nature
has cut out of the cliff thirty or forty feet above the lake. The
interior consists of a spacious vaulted apartment. An arched roof from
ten to twenty feet in thickness rests on four gigantic columns of
rock. These columns consist of finely stratified rock, and have been
worn into curious shapes. At the base of one of these pillars an
arched cavity or niche has been cut, access to which is had by a
flight of steps formed by the projecting strata. The arrangement of
the whole resembles very much the pulpit of a church, while the arched
canopy in front, opening out to the voluted interior, with a flat
tabular mass rising to a convenient height for a desk, and an isolated
block resembling an altar, all fashioned as appropriately as if formed
by the hand of man, constantly impresses one that he is within the
walls of a church.

In the Geological Report, made by Foster and Whitney, to Congress, we
find the following remark: "It is a matter of surprise, that so far as
we know, none of our artists, have visited this region, and given to
the world representations of scenery, so striking and so different
from any which can be found elsewhere. We can hardly conceive of any
thing more worthy of the artist's pencil, and if the tide of
pleasure-travel should once be turned in this direction, it seems not
unreasonable to suppose, that a fashionable hotel may yet be built
under the shade of the pine groves near the chapel, and a trip thither
become as common as one to Niagara now is."

Beyond the grand portal, the rock, being less exposed to the force of
the waves, bears fewer marks o