her and I hear
that she has been exceedingly well educated besides she is not a bad
match even for a Knickerbocker.

"Hoping that you will be able to report at the office before the end of
the month,

"I am affectionately yours,

"SCHUYLER BREVOORT."

"Well, that's all right," said the artist, after a pause. "I suppose the
world might go on if you spend another night in this hotel. But if you
must go, I'll bring on the women and the baggage when navigation opens
in the morning."

XVI. WHITE MOUNTAINS, LENNOX.

The White Mountains are as high as ever, as fine in sharp outline
against the sky, as savage, as tawny; no other mountains in the world
of their height so well keep, on acquaintance, the respect of mankind.
There is a quality of refinement in their granite robustness; their
desolate, bare heights and sky-scraping ridges are rosy in the dawn and
violet at sunset, and their profound green gulfs are still mysterious.
Powerful as man is, and pushing, he cannot wholly vulgarize them. He
can reduce the valleys and the show "freaks" of nature to his own moral
level, but the vast bulks and the summits remain for the most part
haughty and pure.

Yet undeniably something of the romance of adventure in a visit to the
White Hills is wanting, now that the railways penetrate every valley,
and all the physical obstacles of the journey are removed. One can never
again feel the thrill that he experienced when, after a weary all-day
jolting in the stage-coach, or plodding hour after hour on foot, he
suddenly came in view of a majestic granite peak. Never again by the new
rail can he have the sensation that he enjoyed in the ascent of Mount
Washington by the old bridlepath from Crawford's, when, climbing out of
the woods and advancing upon that marvelous backbone of rock, the whole
world opened upon his awed vision, and the pyramid of the summit stood
up in majesty against the sky. Nothing, indeed, is valuable that is
easily obtained. This modern experiment of putting us through the
world--the world of literature, experience, and travel--at excursion
rates is of doubtful expediency.

I cannot but think that the White Mountains are cheapened a little by
the facilities of travel and the multiplication of excellent places of
entertainment. If scenery were a sentient thing, it might feel indignant
at being vulgarly stared at, overrun and trampled on, by a horde of
tourists who chiefly value luxurious hotels and easy c