284 GLORIES OF SPKING-TIME. 



of the valley beneath, the lake was so calm and still, the old 

 woods stood around so moveless and solemn, that one could 

 scarcely persnade himself that he was not looking upon some 

 gigantic picture, the fanciful grouping and transcendent 

 coloring of some ingenious and winning artist. 



" The hillsides about these lakes," remarked the Doctor, 

 " must be superlatively beautiful in the fall, when the forest 

 puts on its autumnal foliage. They present such a variety 

 of trees, of so many different kinds, and the hills and moun- 

 tains are so admirably arranged, that they must be gorgeous 

 beyond description. However we may prefer the green and 

 living beauty of spring, when everything is so full of vitality, 

 so buoyant and free, yet the autumn scenery is the most 

 magnificent of any in the year." 



" Every season has its charms," said Spalding, " Even 

 the winter, with its cold, its dead and cheerless desolation, 

 has its robe of chaste and peerless white, which, as well as 

 that of the spring-time, the summer, and the autumn, has 

 been the theme of song. I agree with you, that in gorgeous- 

 ness of beauty, there is no season so rich as the autumn. 

 Spring-time has its pleasant scenery, its genial days, its deep 

 green, its flowers, and its singing birds ; and these are all 

 the more lovely because they follow so closely upon the cold 

 storms, and bleak winds, the chilling and blank desolation 

 of winter. We love the spring because of its freshness, its 

 pervading vitality, its recuperating influences. Everybody 

 loves the spring-time ; everybody talks about the spring-time ; 

 poets sing of it ; orators praise it ; ' fair women and brave 



