292 FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 



beauty, and sometimes achieve it, even if 

 our ways are often mistaken ones. 



And I think that this is true not only of 

 an old village such as this, old in the 

 American sense, I mean, but I think that 

 it is also true of the more retired regions 

 of the Eastern States, whence cities are not 

 readily accessible, where the demands of 

 life are hard, and where intercommunica 

 tion between families and neighbourhoods 

 is difficult. 



I am fain to believe that another genera 

 tion will effect considerable changes, and 

 changes for the better, in the region that I 

 have just left. Therefore I live in hope. 

 I saw there two distinct phases of life, the 

 old life which suffers under the vis inertia:, 

 and which has hardly awakened to the pres 

 ent, and the disagreeable new life of what 

 seems almost like a border town (although 

 in fact one of the oldest in the country), 

 because it has recently been invaded by the 

 speculative immigrant from the North, with 

 all his shrewdness, and all his lack of 

 &quot;sweetness and light.&quot; But grace and 

 beauty are sure to blossom in the end. 



At the extreme south end of our village, 

 upon a low mound at the foot of a beautiful 



