ul that men do not oftener attach their lives to localities of
great beauty--that, when once deeply penetrated, they will let
themselves so easily be borne away by the general stream of things, to
live any where and any how. But there is something ludicrous in being
the hermit of a show-place, unlike St. Francis in his mountain-bed,
where none but the stars and rising sun ever saw him.

There is also a "guide to the falls," who wears his title labeled on his
hat; otherwise, indeed, one might as soon think of asking for a
gentleman usher to point out the moon. Yet why should we wonder at such,
either, when we have Commentaries on Shakspeare, and Harmonics of the
Gospels?

And now you have the little all I have to write. Can it interest you? To
one who has enjoyed the full life of any scene, of any hour, what
thoughts can be recorded about it, seem like the commas and semicolons
in the paragraph, mere stops. Yet I suppose it is not so to the absent.
At least, I have read things written about Niagara, music, and the like,
that interested _me_. Once I was moved by Mr. Greenwood's remark, that
he could not realize this marvel till, opening his eyes the next morning
after he had seen it, his doubt as to the possibility of its being still
there, taught him what he had experienced. I remember this now with
pleasure, though, or because, it is exactly the opposite to what I
myself felt. For all greatness affects different minds, each in "its own
particular kind," and the variations of testimony mark the truth of
feeling.

I will add a brief narrative of the experience of another here, as being
much better than anything I could write, because more simple and
individual.

"Now that I have left this 'Earth-wonder,' and the emotions it excited
are past, it seems not so much like profanation to analyze my feelings,
to recall minutely and accurately the effect of this manifestation of
the Eternal. But one should go to such a scene prepared to yield
entirely to its influences, to forget one's little self and one's little
mind. To see a miserable worm creep to the brink of this falling world
of waters, and watch the trembling of its own petty bosom, and fancy
that this is made alone, to act upon him excites--derision?--No,--pity."

As I rode up to the neighborhood of the falls, a solemn awe
imperceptibly stole over me, and the deep sound of the ever-hurrying
rapids prepared my mind for the lofty emotions to be experienced. When I
r