FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 2OI 



then a faint church spire. On a moderate 

 hill nearly to the north, and eight or ten 

 miles away, I see distinctly in the noon- 

 clay light the long walls of the great new 

 house of a New York merchant. To the 

 east of north, and on my right, runs out 

 the line of high hills which abut upon the 

 &quot;second mountain&quot; and form the rim of 

 our basin to the east, with gently sloping 

 cultivated fields between, and still show 

 ing on the hither side a remnant of the 

 old &quot; Pilgrims Path &quot; of the colonial time. 

 Due north, and fifteen miles away, rise 

 from the valley the two singular hills 

 which form its portal. 



Nearly the whole country seems covered 

 with forest, though most of it is young or 

 of moderate age, probably none &quot;prime 

 val,&quot; as I have heretofore said, and here 

 and there in the distance I see a space 

 marked by recent severe cutting, or browned 

 by a late forest-lire. Beyond the valley the 

 hills lie in ranges, almost seeming, toward 

 &quot;Satan s kingdom&quot; in the northwest, or 

 thirty miles away in the far north, to float 

 in the hot and hazy air ; and they recede 

 until they become indistinguishable in tint 

 from the sky which falls to meet them. 



Over all this spreads the sky, fading from 



