In the hour when for the first time I stood before the cataracts
of Niagara, I seemed to see a vision of the fears and hopes of
America. It was midnight, the moon was full, and I saw from the
suspension bridge the ceaseless contortion, confusion, whirl,
and chaos which burst forth in clouds of foam from that immense
central chasm which divides the American from the British
dominion; and as I looked on that ever-changing movement, and
listened to that everlasting roar, I saw an emblem of the
devouring activity, and ceaseless, restless, beating whirlpool
of existence in the United States. But into the moonlight
sky there rose a cloud of spray twice as high as the falls
themselves, silent, majestic, immovable. In that silver column,
glittering in the moonlight, I saw an image of the future of
American destiny, of the pillar of light which should emerge
from the distractions of the present--a likeness of the buoyancy
and hopefulness which characterize you both as individuals and
as a nation.--ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY.
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