THE DOME OF THE TACONICS. 



THE traveller by the Housatonic Railway, 

 northward bound from New York, becomes 

 aware, soon after leaving Ashley Falls, of 

 a mountain of no mean proportions, walling up the 

 western view. It is a mountain whose smooth out- 

 lines and gracious curves somewhat disguise its real 

 proportions. At first sight the supercilious tourist 

 from more ambitious altitudes might easily pass by 

 its beauties and count it a small affair ; though his 

 map will tell him that it is a bit higher than the 

 Mount Desert hills, and the peer of many of the 

 lesser peaks in the White Mountain ranges. 



But it is never safe to despise a mountain because 

 it does not stun you with its proportions. The man 

 who respects a high peak solely because of the chal- 

 lenge it makes to his eye or to his muscles, may be 

 an athlete or a sensation-seeker ; he is not a true 

 lover of the high places of earth. Altitude is only an 

 incident of a mountain. It is not essential either to 

 its beauty or to its impressiveness. I can easily 

 imagine that a sensitive and self-respecting peak 

 might be as unwilling to be judged by its height 

 alone as a man would be. Only the grandeurs and 



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