184 Walks in New England 



soften the rays of the southing sun, and it has 

 been ungrateful to complain. 



The week that now closes has been of the 

 richest colour and light. Never, perhaps, have 

 the New England hills been more splendidly 

 adorned than during this time, and though after 

 the dashing rains and windy tempests of the last 

 day thereof there can be little left of the gor 

 geous show, it will remain in memory as unsur 

 passed for harmonious pride of bloom. Generous 

 indeed is Nature in what is wrongfully called our 

 bleak New England clime. Nowhere in the 

 world can this parting glory of the green year, 

 rising into superb blossoming of ripened life, be 

 excelled, as it is seen each fall from the Canadas 

 down to the Carolinas, on the eastward slopes of 

 the grand Appalachian ranges. No time else 

 better presents Nature in her kindliest character. 



It is the season of cheer and promise. Spring 

 has more aggravations and discouragements ; for 

 she gives one day to take back the next, and 

 wintry storms recall the snows to the hills and 

 fasten the streams in fetters they had been freed 

 from by the climbing sun. The weariness of 

 hope deferred vexes us, and the season is long 

 and labouring, with all its charms, which, lovely 

 as they are, one humanly forgets in their frequent 

 oblivion. But the attractions of autumn are loth 



