My First Summer 



the Merced peaks, and the vast multitude of 

 snowy fountain peaks extending far north 

 and south along the axis of the range. No 

 feature, however, of all the noble landscape 

 as seen from here seems more wonderful than 

 the Cathedral itself, a temple displaying Na- 

 ture's best masonry and sermons in stones. 

 How often I have gazed at it from the tops 

 of hills and ridges, and through openings in 

 the forests on my many short excursions, de- 

 voutly wondering, admiring, longing ! This 

 I may say is the first time I have been at 

 church in California, led here at last, every 

 door graciously opened for the poor lonely 

 worshiper. In our best times everything turns 

 into religion, all the world seems a church 

 and the mountains altars. And lo, here at last 

 in front of the Cathedral is blessed cassiope, 

 ringing her thousands of sweet-toned bells, 

 the sweetest church music I ever enjoyed. 

 Listening, admiring, until late in the after- 

 noon I compelled myself to hasten away east- 

 ward back of rough, sharp, spiry, splintery 



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