produced at first upon me completely wore away, and
as I became familiar with it, its dazzling brightness, its soothing
voice, its gliding motion, its soft, thick, furry beds of foam, its
vails and draperies of floating light, and gleaming, wavering
diadems of vivid colors, made it to me the perfection of loveliness
and the mere magnificence of beauty. It was certainly not the
"familiarity" that "breeds contempt," but more akin to the "perfect
love" which "casteth out fear;" and I began at last to understand
Mr. Trelawney's saying that the only impression it produced on him
was that of perfect repose; but perhaps it takes Niagara to
mesmerize him.

[The first time I attempted to go under the cataract of Niagara I had a
companion with me, and one of the local guides, who undertook to pilot
us safely. On reaching the edge of the sheet of water, however, we
encountered a blast of wind so violent that we were almost beaten back
by it. The spray was driven against us like a furious hailstorm, and it
was impossible to open our eyes or draw our breath, and we were obliged
to relinquish the expedition. The next morning, going down to the falls
alone, I was seduced by the comparative quietness and calm, the absence
of wind or atmospheric disturbance, to approach gradually the entrance
to the cave behind the water, and finding no such difficulty as on the
previous day, crept on, step by step, beneath the sheet, till I reached
the impassable jutting forward of the rock where it meets the full body
of the cataract. My first success emboldened, me to two subsequent
visits, the small eels being the only unpleasant incident I encountered.
The narrow path I followed was a mere ledge of shale and broken
particles of the rock, which is so frayable and crumbling, either in its
own nature, or from the constant action of the water, that as I passed
along and pressed myself close against it, I broke off in my hands the
portions of it that I grasped.]

A few miles below the falls is a place called the whirlpool, which,
in its own kind, is almost as fine as the fall itself. The river
makes an abrupt angle in its course, when it is shut in by very
high and rocky cliffs--walls, in fact--almost inaccessible from
below. Black fir trees are anchored here and there in their cracks
and fissures, and hang over the dismal pool below, most of them
scathed and contorte