It often seems more difficult to recognize beauty in things with which we are familiar than in those which are more foreign to us. The Hudson is, beyond question, as splendid a river as any of which European cities can boast, yet visitors to New York often seem to appreciate it more than do the New Yorkers themselves. Whether twinkling under myriad lights on a summer night, or storm lashed in January, the Hudson sweeps the whole west shore of Manhattan in lasting yet ever changing grandeur. Imagine yourself in an unknown, distant city, and watch the sun go gorgeously down behind the Palisades, while on the water its long reflection is ploughed to pieces by the river craft.