FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 275 



infinite, in the last extremity (which is 

 never reached) each man s territory be 

 comes infinite in length and breadth as well 

 as in thickness. And so he has his escape 

 into the infinite. 



And it is worth something to see the sky, 

 even at second hand. Worth, ah ! how 

 much ! to look out upon great stretches of 

 it, upon untold and untellable millions of 

 miles, with its cloud-capped towers, its gor 

 geous palaces, its solemn temples. 



We are now in the full tide of the early 

 autumn, with its wealth of bloom. All the 

 old favourites are here : the asters and the 

 golden-rods, the cardinal flower, the fringed 

 gentian, the ladies -tresses, the grass of 

 Parnassus, the wild carrot, the autumn 

 buttercup, a wealth of bloom that defies 

 enumeration or computation or description. 

 And the green trees also are putting on 

 their ascension robes, not of white, but of 

 brown and of red and of gold. 



But the summer lingers ; the air is still 

 and sultry ; portentous clouds gather on 

 the hills beyond the valley, and are cloven 

 from time to time by flashes of lightning, and 

 heavy thunder rolls around the welkin. 



SEPTEMBER 16, 1894. 



