JOURNEY TO BOSTON.— BOSTON.— PRISON.— HOSPITAL.— SPRINGFIELD.— ALBANY.— TRENTON FALLS.— JOURNEY TO NIAGARA.— NIAGARA.

Delavan House, Albany, Sept. 15th, 1858.

I find it at present impossible to keep up my letter to you from day to day, but I am so afraid of arrears accumulating upon me that I shall begin this to-night, though it is late and we are to start early to-morrow. My last letter brought us up to our arrival at Boston, but I have not yet described to you our delightful journey there.

We left Newport with our friends, Mr. and Miss Morgan, at two o'clock on the 13th, and embarked in a small steamer, which took us up the Narragansett Bay to the interesting manufacturing town of Providence. We were about two hours on the steamer, and kept pace with the railway cars which were running on the shores parallel to us, and also going to Providence. The shores were very pretty, green and sloping, and dotted with bright and clean white wooden houses and churches. We passed the pretty-looking town of Bristol on our right. The day was lovely, brilliant and cool, with a delightfully bracing wind caused by our own speed through the water.

The boat brought us to Providence in time only to walk quickly to the railway, but we had an opportunity of getting a glance at the place. It is one of the oldest towns in America, dating as far back as 1635; but its original importance is much gone off, Boston, which is in some respects more conveniently situated, having carried off much of its trade. It is most beautifully situated on the Narragansett Bay, the upper end of which is quite encircled by the town, the city rising beyond it on a rather abrupt hill. Among the manufactories which still exist here, those for jewellery are very numerous.

We were now to try the railway for the second time in America, and having been told that the noise of the Hudson River line was caused by the reverberation of the rocks, and was peculiar to that railway, we hoped for better things on this, our second journey. We found, however, to our disappointment, that there was scarcely any improvement as to quiet; and as papa would eat a dinner instead of a luncheon at Newport, this and the noise together soon worried his poor head into a headache. We were confirmed in our dislike of the cars and railways, which have many serious faults. The one window over which papa and I (sitting together) were able to exercise entire control, opened like all others by pushing it up. A consequence of this arrangement is that the shoulder next to it is in danger of many a rheumatic twinge, being so exposed to cold; whereas, if the window opened the reverse way, air could be let in without the shoulder being thus exposed. I forgot in my description of the cars, to tell you that the seats are all reversible, enabling four persons to sit in pairs facing each other, and also if their opposite neighbours are amiably disposed, enabling each pair to rest their feet on the opposite seat, and if the opposite seat is empty, the repose across from seat to seat can be still more complete; but it is an odious contrivance, and neither repose nor rest can be thought of in these most uncomfortable carriages. Our seats faced the front door, and were close to it, which was very desirable as the air is clearer at that end, and not so loaded with the impurities of so large a mass of all classes as at the other end. We made various purchases as we went along. First came the ticket man, then cheap periodicals, then apples and pears, common bon-bons, and corn pop, of which I am trying to keep a specimen to send you. It is a kind of corn which is roasted on the fire, and in so doing, makes a popping noise, whence its name. It is pleasant to nibble. Then came iced water, highly necessary after the dry corn pop, and finally about twenty good and well-chosen books. Papa bought the Life of Stephenson.

But if we had room to grumble about discomforts within, we could only admire unceasingly without the very lovely road along which we were rapidly passing. The country consisted of undulating hills and slopes, prettily wooded, while bright white wooden houses and churches rapidly succeeded each other; the tall, sharp, white church spire contrasting beautifully with the dark back-ground of trees. It was delightful to see all the houses and cottages looking trim and neat, and in perfect order and repair. There was no such thing as dilapidation or poverty apparent, and the necessary repairs being so easily made, and the paint-brush readily available, all looked in the most perfect order. We could do little else than admire the scenery, and arrived at Boston at about six o'clock; the last few minutes of the journey being over a long wooden bridge or viaduct, which connects the mainland with the peninsula on which Boston is built. We found rooms ready for us at Tremont House. It is an enormous hotel, but the passages are close, and the rooms small. They were otherwise, however, very luxurious, for I had a small dressing-room out of my bedroom in which was a warm bath and a plentiful supply of hot and cold water laid on, besides other conveniences.

The next morning we found Lord and Lady Radstock in the breakfast-room; and papa accompanied Lord Radstock to see an hospital and prison.

The prison was the jail in which prisoners are detained before their trial, as well as when the duration of their imprisonment is not to be very long. Nothing, by papa's description, can exceed the excellency of the arrangements as far as the airiness and cleanliness of the cells, and even the comforts of the prisoners, are concerned, but the system is one of strict solitary confinement. Papa and Lord R. were surprised to find that some unhappy persons, who were kept there merely in the character of witnesses, were subject to the same rigorous treatment. Lord R. remarked, that he would take good care not to see any offence committed while in this country, but the jailor replied, "Oh, it would be quite enough if any one declared you saw it."

The hospital appears to be a model of what such an establishment ought to be. The wards are large, and, like the prison cells, very airy and clean, but with a great contrast in the character of the inmates for whose benefit they are provided. The great space which can usually be allotted, in a country like this, to institutions of this description, may perhaps give this hospital an advantage over one situated in the centre of a large city like London; though the semi-insular position of Boston must render space there comparatively valuable; but even this cannot take away from the merit of the people in showing such attention to the comforts of the needy sick. But what papa was most pleased with, was the provision made, on the plan which has been often tried in London, but never with the success it deserves, of an hospital, or home for the better classes of the sick. In the Boston hospital, patients are received who pay various sums up to ten dollars a week, for which they can have a comfortable room to themselves, and the best medical advice which the town affords. Papa and Lord R. were shown over this institution by Dr. Shaw, who was particularly attentive and obliging in answering all their questions.

We have since been exploring the town, and are quite delighted with it. It has none of the stiff regularity of New York, and the dwelling houses have an air of respectable quiet comfort which is much wanted in that city of wealth and display. The "stores" too are far more attractive than in New York, though their way of asking you to describe exactly what you want before they show you anything, except what is displayed, reminded me much of France. The city is altogether very foreign-looking in its appearance, and we are glad to think we are to return and make a better acquaintance with it later in the month. There is a delightful "common," as they call it, or park, which is well kept, and much prized by the inhabitants. Some beautiful elm trees in it are the largest we have seen in this country. Around one side are the best dwelling houses, some of which are really magnificent. The hotel, which is a very large one, has some beautiful public sitting rooms, greatly larger than those at the Brevoort House at New York, which is much more quiet in this respect; but these large rooms form an agreeable adjunct to an hotel, as they are in general well filled by the guests in the house, and yet sufficiently large to let each party have their own little coterie.

The character of the inhabitants for honesty seems to be called in question by the hotel-keepers, for all over these hotels there are alarming notices to beware of hotel thieves (probably English pickpockets); and in Boston we were not only told to lock our doors, but not to leave the key on the outside at any time, for fear it should be stolen.

Trenton Falls, Sept. 16th.—We left Boston on Tuesday afternoon, and got as far as Springfield, a town beautifully situated on the river Connecticut, and celebrated for a government institution of great importance, where they make and store up fire-arms. It is just 100 miles from Boston, and the railway runs through a beautifully wooded country the whole way, which made the journey appear a very short one. The villages we passed had the same character as those between Providence and Boston, and were, like them, built altogether of wood, generally painted white, but occasionally varied by stone-colour, and sometimes by a warm red or maroon colour picked out with white.

Springfield lay on our way to Albany, and as we had heard much of the beauty of the place, we were not deterred from sleeping there by being told that a great annual horse-fair was to be held there, but to secure rooms we telegraphed for them the day before. At the telegraph station they took upon themselves to say, there was no room at the established hotels, but that a new one on the "European plan" had been opened the day before, where we could be taken in; at this we greatly rejoiced, but to our dismay on arriving, we found its existence ignored by every one, and we were almost in despair when we bethought ourselves to go to the telegraph office, where we were directed to a small new cabaret, whose only merit was that we, being its first occupants, found everything most perfectly fresh and clean; but having been only opened that day, and the town being very full, everything was in disorder, and there were but two bedrooms for papa, myself, William, and Thrower.[2] It became an anxious question how to appropriate them, as there was but one bed in one of the rooms, and two in the other. However, it was finally arranged, that papa and William should sleep in the double-bedded room, and Thrower and I together in the single bed. We called Thrower a lady of the party, and made her dine with us, for had they known she was only a "help," she might probably have fared badly.

After getting some dinner, at which the people are never at a loss in America, any more than in France, we sallied forth to see the town, and were exceedingly pleased with its appearance. Nothing could be brighter or fresher than it looked, and the flags and streamers across the street, and general lighting up, were foreign-looking and picturesque. Although the town is but small compared with those we had just left, the shops were spacious and well filled, and the things in them of a good quality. Hearing that there was a meeting at the City Hall, we went to it, little expecting to find such a splendid room. In order to reach it, we had to pass through a corridor, where the names of the officers of the corporation were painted over doors on each side, and were struck with amazement, when, at the end of this, we entered a hall, as light and bright-looking as St. James' Hall in London, and though not perhaps so large, still of considerable dimensions, and well proportioned. The walls were stone-colour, and the wood-work of the roof and light galleries were buff, picked out with the brightest scarlet. On a platform at one end of the room were seated the Mayor of Springfield, and many guests whom he introduced one by one to the audience in short speeches. These worthies delivered harangues on the subject of horses and their uses; and the speeches were really very respectable, and not too long, but were delivered in general with a strong nasal twang. There were persons from all parts of America; Ohio, Carolina, &c. &c.

We made out our night tolerably well, and next morning went to look at the arsenal, and depÔt of arms, and were shown over the place by a person connected with the establishment, who was most civil and obliging in explaining the nature of all we saw. The view from the tower was most lovely. The panorama was encircled by high hills, clothed with wood; and the town, and many villages and churches, all of dazzling whiteness, lay scattered before the eye. We drove next to the Horse Fair, which was very well arranged. There was a circus of half a mile, forming a wide carriage road, on which horses were ridden or driven, to show off their merits. The quickest trotted at the rate of twenty miles an hour. When the horses were driven in pairs, the driver held a rein in each hand. There was a platform at one end filled with well-conducted people, and a judge's seat near it. The horses in single-harness went faster even than those in pairs: one horse, called Ethan Allen, performing about twenty-four miles an hour; though Edward may arrive nearer than this "about," by calculating at the rate of two minutes and thirty-seven seconds, in which it went twice round this circle. The owner of this horse has refused $15,000 or 3000l. for it. It is said to be the fastest horse in America, and a beautiful animal, but most of the horses were very fine. The people seemed to enjoy themselves much, and all appeared most quiet and decorous, but the whole population surprised us in this respect. We have seen but one drunken man since we landed. Even in our new cabaret, the opening of which might have given occasion for a carousal, every thing was most orderly. Our landlord, however, seemed very full of the importance of his position, and could think and talk of nothing but of this said cabaret. Their phraseology, is often very odd. In the evening, he said, "Now, will you like your dinner right away?" As we walked along the streets, and tried to get a room elsewhere, a man said, smacking his hands together, "No, they are already threbled in every room."

But I must now tell you of our journey from Springfield to Albany: the distance between the two is exactly 100 miles; Boston being 200 from Albany. We left Springfield by train at twelve o'clock, and reached Pittsfield, a distance of fifty miles, at half-past two. This part of the road presented a succession of beautiful views. Your sisters will remember that part of the road near Chaudes Fontaines, where it runs through the valley, and crosses the Vesdre every five minutes. If they can imagine this part of it extended for fifty miles, and on a much larger scale, they may form some notion of what we saw. The railway crossed the river at least thirty times, so we had it on the right hand and left hand alternately, as on that little bit in Belgium. The river, called the Westfield, was very rapid in places, and the water, when deep, almost of a rich coffee colour. At Pittsfield we got on to the plateau which separates the Connecticut River and the Hudson. The plain is elevated more than 1000 feet above the sea. We then began rapidly to descend. The country was still as pretty as before, but more open, with hills in the back-ground, for till we reached Pittsfield these were close to us, and beautifully wooded to the top. At Pittsfield, in the centre of the town, there is a very large elm tree, the elm being the great tree of the country, but this surpassed all its neighbours, its height being 120 feet, and the stem 90 feet before any branches sprang from it.

We reached Albany at five o'clock; and a most beautiful town it is. The great street, as well as one at right angles to it leading up to the Capitol, is wider, I think, than any street we ever saw; and the shops on both sides are very splendid. The hotel is very large and good; but, alas! instead of our dear darkies at Newport, we had some twenty pale-faced damsels to wait at table, all dressed alike in pink cottons, their bare necks much displayed in front, with large white collars, two little frills to form the short sleeves, large, bare, clean, white arms, and short white aprons not reaching to the knees. They had no caps, and such a circumference of hoops! quite Yankeeish in their style; and most careless, flirtatious-looking and impertinent in their manners. We were quite disgusted with them; and even papa could not defend any one of them. We were naturally very badly waited upon; they sailing majestically about the room instead of rushing to get what we wanted, as the niggers at Newport did. Men-servants answered the bed-room bells, and brought our hot water; the ladies being employed only as waiters.

This morning the fine weather we had hitherto enjoyed began to fail us, as it rained in torrents. Notwithstanding this, we started at half-past seven; passing through what in sunshine must be a lovely country, to Utica on the New York Central Railway, and thence by a branch railway of fifteen miles to Trenton Falls. The country was much more cultivated than any we have yet seen. There were large fields of Indian corn, and many of another kind, called broom corn, being grown only to make brooms. We passed many fields of a brilliant orange-red pumpkin, which, when cooked, looks something like mashed turnips, and is called squash: it is very delicate and nice. But beautiful as the country was, even in the rain, we soon found out that we had left New England and its bright-looking wooden houses. The material of which the houses are built remains the same; but instead of being painted, and looking trim and neat as in New England, they consisted of the natural unpainted wood; though twelve hours of pouring rain may have made them more melancholy-looking than usual; for they were all of a dingy brown, and had a look bordering on poverty and dilapidation in some instances, to which we were quite unaccustomed.

On reaching this place we found the hotel was closed for the season; but rooms had been secured in a very fair country inn, where we had a tolerable dinner. We were glad to see the rain gradually cease; and the promise of a fine afternoon caused us to sally out as soon after dinner as we could to see the falls. These are very beautiful: they are formed by a tributary of the Mohawk River, along the banks of which (of the Mohawk itself I mean) our railway this morning passed for about forty miles. The Erie Canal, a most celebrated work, is carried along the other bank of the river; so that, during all this distance, the river, the railway, and the canal were running parallel to each other, and not a pistol shot across the three.[3] We had been warned by some Swiss friends at Newport against carelessness and rashness in walking along the narrow ledge cut in the face of the rock, so we took a guide and found the pass very slippery from the heavy rain. The amiable young guide took possession of me, and for a time I got on tolerably well, clinging to the chain which in places was fastened against the face of the rock; but as the path narrowed, my head began to spin, and as the guide discouraged me, under these circumstances, from going any further, I turned back with Thrower and regained dry land, while the rest of the party were accomplishing their difficult task. They returned much sooner than we expected, delighted with all they had seen, though papa said I was right not to have pursued the narrow ledge. He then took me through a delightful wood to the head of the falls, where a seat in a little summer-house enabled me to enjoy the lovely scene. The river takes three leaps over rocks, the highest about 40 feet; though in two miles the descent is 312 feet. Beautifully wooded rocks rise up on either side; and the sunshine this afternoon lighting up the wet leaves added to the beauty of the scene. We scrambled down from the summer-house to the bed of the river, and walked on to the foot of the upper fall; which, though not so high as the others, was very pretty. In returning home we had glimpses of the falls through the trees. Many of the firs and maples are of a great height, rising an immense way without any branches, reminding us of the oaks at Fontainebleau.

We had to change our damp clothes on our return to the inn; and after partaking of tea-cakes, stewed pears, and honey, I am now sitting in the public room in my white dressing-gown. This toilette, I have no doubt, is thought quite en rÉgle, for white dresses are much worn in America; and the company here this evening is not very refined or capable of appreciating the points in which mine may be deficient. There is dancing at the great hotel every night in the season; but that is now over. Some sad accidents have happened here, by falls over the precipice into the river. The last occurred this year, when a young boy of eight, a twin son of a family staying here, from New York, was drowned: but these accidents, we are told, generally happen in the safest places from carelessness. We go on, to-morrow, probably to Rochester, where there are some pretty small falls; and on Saturday, the 17th, we hope to reach Niagara, from whence this letter is to be posted for England.

A nigger, and our guide of this afternoon, have just seated themselves in the corner of the drawing room where I am writing, and are playing, one the fiddle, and the other the guitar. Perhaps they are trying to get up a "hop," later, but there do not seem materials enough for it, and their tune is at present squeaky—jerky—with an attempt at an adagio. The nigger is now playing "Comin' thro' the Rye," with much expression, both of face and fiddle! Oh, such, squeaks! I wish Louisa heard them. Here come the variations with accompaniment of guitar.—Later.—The nigger is now singing plaintive love ditties!

International Hotel, Niagara Falls, September 18th.—We had gone from the station at Trenton to Trenton Falls in a close, lumbering, heavy coach, which is of very ordinary use in America. But yesterday morning we went over the same ground in an omnibus, which allowed us to see the great beauty of the country to perfection; and, although we had occasional heavy showers, the day was, on the whole, much more propitious for travelling, as the atmosphere was very clear, and the sandy dust was laid. We returned to Utica, or "Utikay," as they call it, and, having an hour to spare, went and saw the State Lunatic Asylum; but there was not much to remark upon it, although everything, as seems generally the case in this country, was very orderly and well kept.

The building, however, was not seen to advantage, as a very large portion of it was burnt down last year, and the new buildings were not entirely finished. The gentleman who showed us round was very attentive, and gave us a report of the establishment, which shows how creditably every one acted in the trying emergency of the fire. He gave us, also, two numbers of a little periodical, which is written and published by the inmates.

We left Utica soon after eleven, and came on to Syracuse, through a well wooded and better cultivated country than we have yet passed. The aspect of the country is varied by fields of Indian corn, and tracts of burnt and charred stumps of trees, the remains of burnt forests. These stumps are left for some time to rot in the ground, and a few taller stems, without branches, are left standing, giving the whole a forlorn appearance but for the thought that the land will soon be cultivated and return a great produce; were it not for this, one would regret the loss of the trees, which are turned everywhere here to good account. The houses and cottages are all wood. The hurdles, used everywhere instead of hedges, are wood. The floorings of both the large and small stations are wood, worn to shreds, sometimes, by the tramp of feet. The engine burns wood. The forests are burnt to get rid of the wood. Long and enormous stacks of wood line the road continually, and often obstruct the view. All this made our journey to Syracuse, though interesting, much tamer than on the preceding days. An accident happened to the boiler, which detained us at Rome, but, as we were luckily near the station, we soon got another engine. On the whole, one travels with quite as great a feeling of security as in England.

From Syracuse to Rochester there are two roads, one short and direct, and another, which, by taking a southern direction, passes through Auburn, Cayuga, Geneva, and Canandaigua. We were well repaid by taking the longer route, as the road went round the heads of the lakes, and in one case, indeed, crossed the head of the lake where these beautiful little towns are situated. The views of all these lakes, but especially of lake Cayuga, and of lake Seneca on which Geneva is situated, are very lovely. They stretch "right away" between high banks, varying from two to five miles apart, each forming a beautiful vista, closed up by distant blue hills at the further end. These lakes vary from thirty to forty miles in length, and by means of steamboats form an easy communication, though a more tedious one than the railways, between this and the southern part of the State of New York. We had a capital cicerone to explain all that we saw as we went along, in a Yankee, who told us he was "raised" in these parts, though he lived in "Virginny." He looked like a small farmer, but had a countenance of the keenest intelligence. He told papa, before he had spoken five minutes with him, that it was quite right a person of his intelligence should come to this country. When we came to Auburn, he quoted "'Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain;' a beautiful poem, sir, written by Goldsmith, one of your own poets." We told him we thought of going to St. Paul, beyond the Mississippi, when he said, "Oh yes! that's a new country—that's a cold country too. If you are there in the winter, it will make you snap."

At Rochester we stopped for an hour to dine. We had intended to sleep there, but none of us being tired, we changed our plan in order to come on here last night. During this hour we went to see the Falls of the Genessee, which in some respects surpassed Trenton, as the river is very broad, and falls in one sheet, from a height of ninety-six feet, over a perpendicular wall of rock. We dined, and then papa and I took a rapid walk to the post office, to post a letter to Alfred O., at Toronto. The streets, as usual, were very wide, with spacious "stores" running very far back, as they all seem to do in America. I asked when the letter would reach Toronto, and the man answered, "It ought to do so to-morrow, but it is uncertain when it will." Papa asked our guide from the hotel where he was "raised," (papa is getting quite a Yankee), to which he replied, "in Ireland." I slept, wonderful to say, through part of our journey here, in one of those most uncomfortable cars, but woke up as we approached the station. The night was splendid (we had seen the comet at Rochester), and the moon was so bright as to make it almost as light as day; you may imagine our excitement when we saw, in the distance, rising above the trees, a light cloud of mist from the Falls of Niagara.?

Clifton House, September 18th.—Papa got into a melancholy mood at the International Hotel yesterday evening, on account of the hotel being an enormous one, and like a huge barrack; half of it we suspect is shut up, for they gave us small room au second, though they acknowledged they made up four hundred beds, and had only one hundred guests in the house. The dining room was about one hundred and fifty feet long, and the hotel was half in darkness from the lateness of the hour, and had no view of the Falls; so papa got more and more miserable, and I could only comfort him by reminding him we could be off to this hotel early in the morning; for as it is the fashion to try first one side for the view, and then the other, there was no offence in going from the United States to our own English possessions. On this he cheered up and we went out, and the first sight we got of this glorious river was at about eleven o'clock, when he insisted upon my passing over the bridge to Goat Island. It was the most lovely moonlight night conceivable, and the beams lit up the crests of the foaming waves as they came boiling over the rapids. It was a glorious sight, though I was rather frightened, not knowing what perils might be in store for us.

To-day we made out our move to the Canada side, and are most comfortably lodged. Before coming to this hotel, we took a long drive down the river, on the American side. We got out of the carriage to see the Devil's Hole, a deep ravine, often full of water, but now dry. We stood on a high precipice, and had a grand view of the river. The river is generally passed over in silence in all descriptions of Niagara, and yet it is one of the most lovely parts of the scene. Its colour after it has left the Falls, and proceeds on its rapid way, full of life and animation, to Lake Ontario, is a most tender sea green. We drove on about six miles, and then crossed a slight suspension bridge (the suspension bridge being a ponderous structure for the railroad trains to pass over); but the one by which we crossed looked like a spider's-web; and the view midway, whether we looked up or down, was the finest specimen of river scenery I ever beheld. We then turned up the stream, and came by the English side to a most wonderful whirlpool, formed by the river making a rapid bend, and proceeding in a course at right angles to the one it had been previously pursuing; but the violence of the stream had caused it to proceed a long way first in the original direction; and it was evidently not till it had scooped, or hollowed out, a large basin, that it was forced to yield to the barrier that was opposed to it. This is the sort of bend it takes.

Diagram of Whirlpool

After dinner we went to deliver a letter which papa had brought for Mr. Street, who has a house above the Falls. He was not at home; but we went through the grounds and over a suspension bridge he has built to connect a large island, also his property, with the mainland. There are, in fact, not one but many islands, into which one large one has probably, in the course of time, become divided by the raging torrent. It is just above the Horse-Shoe Fall, in the midst of the most boisterous part of the rapids; and it was quite sublime on looking up the river to see the horizon formed at a considerable level above our heads by the mass of foaming water. But now for the Falls!

You must fill up this blank with your imagination, for no words can convey any idea of the scene. They far surpass anything we could have believed of them. This, however, I write after a thorough study of them from various points of view; for when we first caught a glimpse, in our drive to-day, of the Fall on the American side, it disappointed us; but from the verandah of this hotel, on which our bed-room windows open, we had the first astounding view of the two Falls, with Goat Island dividing them; and that sight baffles all description. The Horse-Shoe Fall is magnificent. The curve is so graceful and beautiful; and the mist so mysterious, rising, as it does, from the depths below, and presenting the appearance of a moving veil as it glides past, whether yielding to every breath of wind, or, as now, when driven quickly by a gale; then the height of the clouds of light white mist rising above the trees; and, above all, the delicate emerald green where the curve itself takes place: all these elements of beauty combined, fill the mind with wonder, when contemplating so glorious a work of God's hand; so simple, and yet so striking and magnificent. We can gaze at the whole all day and all night, if we please, from our own windows. The moon being nearly full, is a great addition to the beauty of the scene. I have frequently risen from my seat while writing this, to look first at the rapids above the American Fall, lit up and shining like the brightest silver; then at the moon on the mist, illuminating first one part of it and then another. I must proceed with my description of our doings (if I can) on Monday, before leaving this for Toronto, which we are to do on Monday afternoon; but this must be posted here, and I should like to finish my description of Niagara in this letter. We met a real Indian to-day. He had somewhat of a Chinese cast of countenance. Perhaps we shall see more of them. It is said that some of the black waiters in this hotel are escaped slaves, having come to English ground for safety.

September 19th.—This being Sunday, we went to a chapel in a village of native Indians of the Tuscarrara tribe. The chapel was about half filled with these poor Indians and half with visitors like ourselves. They have had a missionary among them for about fifty years, and it is to be hoped that former missionaries talked more sense to them, and taught them better truths, than the one we heard to-day. His sermon was both long and tedious, and was interpreted into the Tuscarrara language sentence by sentence as the preacher, who was a Presbyterian, delivered it. The burden of it was their ingratitude, not to God, but to the Government of the United States, which had devoted an untold number of dollars for their conversion; and he ended by a threat that this generosity on their part would be withdrawn if they did not alter their wicked course of life. As we were there for half an hour before the service began, we had an opportunity of conversing with many of these poor people, who seemed little to deserve this severe censure, for many of them had evidently come from a distance, having brought their food with them, and the people seemed of a quiet and harmless disposition. Few of them seemed to understand English, and these only the men, as the women professed, at least, not to understand papa when he tried to talk to them. They had all of them remarkably piercing and intelligent black eyes, but were not otherwise good looking. There were two little babies in their mothers' arms, one in a bright yellow dress. The women wore handkerchiefs tied over their heads, except one or two who wore round hats and feathers. Some in hoops and crinolines! All wore bead necklaces. They are the makers of the well-known mohair and bark and beadwork. In the churchyard were many tombstones with English inscriptions. The following is the copy we made of one:—

"SEKWARIHTHICH-DEA WM. CHEW,

GRAND SACHEM OF THE TUSCARRARA NATION OF INDIANS,

Who died Dec. 16, 1857,

In the 61st year of his age.

The memory of his many virtues will be embalmed in the hearts of
his people, and posterity will speak of his praise.

He was a good man, and a just.

He held the office of Grand Sachem 30 years, and was
Missionary Interpreter 29 years."

After chapel we returned to the American side of the Fall, where the table d'hÔte dinner was later than at the Clifton Hotel, which we had missed. While waiting for dinner, we went again to Goat Island, and had some splendid views of the Falls, the day being magnificent beyond all description. Papa and William afterwards took a long walk to get a new view of the whirlpool. Papa has made me dreadfully anxious all day by going too close to the edges of the precipices; and as the rock is very brittle and easily crumbles off, and as his feet often trip in walking, you may suppose the agonies I have been in; at last I began to wish myself and him safe in the streets of Toronto. I was not the least frightened for myself, but it was trying to see him always looking over, and about to lean against old crazy wooden balustrades that William said must have given way from sheer rottenness with any weight upon them. This is such a night, not a single cloud; the clearest possible sky and the moon shining brightly, as it did over the two Falls the first night we were here. Papa calls me every minute—"Oh come, do come, this minute; I do not believe you have ever yet seen the Falls!!!" To-morrow we have one remaining expedition,—to go in a small steamer called the "Maid of the Mist," which pokes her nose into the two Falls about six times a day. The passengers are put into waterproof dresses. This I hope to describe to you to-morrow, and shall despatch my letter before starting for Toronto.