The Portland daily press., 1869-09-23


clear springs of Shenandoah Valley we wend
our way through Baltimore 10 the Quaker
city," tarrying long enough to walk through
Laurel Hi and Woodland, where the num-
Der, variety, and beauty of mausoleums, and
monuments, must surprise stranger. Here
are maryels Of exquisite tracery in marble, on
polished shafts, and columns, chapels ofpurest
marble, with massive granite pyramids. Some
of these mark the resting places of those who
| have fallen in battle The suburban residences
are beautiful in Frankford, which we reach by
| city cars We spend an hour in the studio of
| James Hamilton, the marine artist, whose
| picture OF "What are the wild waves saying?'
| was so heartily appreciated by Charles Dick
| ems.
The passionate love Of the grand in art.
with the modesty, characteristic of this great
artist, are strikingly displayed in the charm
ing parlor, looking out on an avenue of trees
| beyond. Every thing of his own is excluded,
| though the walls are covered with favorite
creations from kindred minds. Over the mant-
elwhie robed angels summon quick and dead
to the Last Judgment" while in another
picture, which will always linger in memory,
the fearful scenes Of the "Great Day of His
wrath" are powerfully depicted. On the oppo-
site wall are the peaceful 'Pains Of Heaven"
Leaving Franklord for the busy city, we visit
the Academy of art, where hangs Hamilton's
moonlight at Atlantic eity,"-in this, the
boundlessness of sea, sky, and beach, impress
us strangely as symbols of eternity. The
pleasing fall and summer views of other ar
fists, seem to bring out more strik-
| inoly the merits of w. v. de Van
| Bonfeld's snow scenes. There is a fascina-
| ton about NWinter Moonlight" Through a
| mass of struggling, halfparted clouds, the
| moonlight breaks Oh the snowy roof of low
| cottage, from the solitary window of which a
CHEEKY light shines, while the old tree or the
right stretches its bare branches over it as a
| shield, at the same time nterposing single
branch between you and the moon. One
| cannot but wonder who are the dWellers with
in, and try to picture the now desoate tree as
it will be when clothed in spring leaves, green
| and beautiful. In New York we briefly ex-
| plore Central Park, Its placid lake, in sum-
I
| laughter of parties in boats, crossing from
side to side, or disappearing under its mimic
| bridges, to call forth the sleeping Echo" its
| fountains quivering in the sunlight; the mar
| vels wrought in stone, stairways and arches;
| and the long carriage road, or broad avenue
OF stately trees, behind which we may see the
sun go down in kingy state, canopied in gold
i IL. -
the rising moon from one of those rustic ar
| bors on the hilltop, contrasting if so dispos-
| ed, its steady, placid light with the restless
glare and twinkle of gas jets on the distant
city avenues,-al these are only few of its
many attractions. The characteristic features
of different streets strike us with interest
To the student, whatever his taste, the
haunts of pub ishers will offer most attrac-
| tions.
Superb foreign reprints (among them that
| pride of artists, "Fhe London Art Journal
with its copies of old masters) are brought
out here. The shades of evening
gather round US in the saloon Of the "Prov-
dence" on our way to Newport and Boston.
From the deck we have a fine view of ship
| ping. Blackwell's Island, with its different
| Institutions; lovely islands, and dwellings
| fronting green lawns, on which children at
play shouted TO lis as we passed; with
twinkling and revolving lights from light
houses set in the waves Sunset and moon
light were alike enchanting, while the inspir-
iting music of Dodworth's Band added not a
little TO the romance of the trip. In the early
morning we take the Old Colony Railroad,
through Fall River, Easton, the home of the
Hon. o. Ames, President of the great Pacific
road, Brantree, and Taunton, famed by
pleasant breezes, to Boston. This time we
hear, as well as see, the great organ, with its
mighty throbs and swellings of sound, and
again its low cadences, like spirit voices.
| The Portland boat leaves US at one of the
wharves of that city next morning and few
steps from the depot of the Grand Trunk rail-
way, which we take to Gorham. Part of the
route is full of beauty, winding along the An
droscoggin through Bethel, Gilead and Sher-
burne, a landscape of rare loveliness, framed
in by the distant ranges and peaks of the
| famed White Mountains. The shadows on
| these alone are studies for an artist. From
the Alpine House at the foot of Mount Hayes
| to Berlin Falls is a charming ride. The river
here dashes through narrow passage, and in
| its descent forms the falls. In the neighbor-
/ hood of Gorham the finest distant view of
i Mt. Washington may be had, enthroned in
| clouds, which seem to rest on its summit
/ The Glen House at the base of Mt. Washing
i lie iobt mil fi,rfb
| rest we take the stage to the Crawford House,
through the Notch and past the old Wiley
| dwelling, thirty-four miles. A short ramble
| through a forest path and down stairway,
| brings us in full view of Glen Ellis Fall, which
seems suspended over rock sixty feet high,
like a veil Of gauze-like spray. Into what
4 marvellous beauty the water tosses itself in
its descent, ere it is lost in the dark deep pool
below. Now and then an isolated dwelling is
i passed, and children come out to look at the
strangers, or offer tiny baskets of blackberries
for sale. Changing conveyance at Jackson,
we ride TO Upper Bartlett, and from thence,
/ passing many places where the wndings of
stony ways show the former pathways of
many pleasant brooks now dry, we follow
| the Saco, passing Nancy's Brook, and the
4 tree under which so many years ago that de-
1 voted girl met terrible death, and stop
some time after at the old Wiley house, at
| the back of which rises that steep mountain
| from which death was hurled on nine human
| beings The meadow in the rear of the
1 dwelling is gone, in its placs the ground was
1 raised by the slide" fifteen feet. A little
4 above Is large rock which once stood thirty
| ieet higher, and broke the force OF the ava
lanche, which dividing in the fall, saved the
| house. .- .- -- ..r
| ELEGANCE DOES NOT MAKE A HoME.-l
| never saw garment too fine for man or maid;
| there was never a chair TOO good for cob
| bier or cooper or king to sit i'll never a house
| too fine to shelter the human head These
elements about us, the gorgeous sky, the inl-
| perial SUI, are not too good for the human
| race. Elegance fits man But do we not vaue
these tools OF housekeeping little more than
the are worth, and sometimes mortgage a
home for the mahogany we would bring into
it6 L had rather eat my dinner Off the head
OF barrel, or dress alter the fashion of John
the Baptist in the wilderness, or sit on
block allmy lie, than consume myself before
got TO home, and take so much PaIr9 P,
with the outside that the inside was as Hono" i,'i
| as an empty nut Beauty is gre i4o' Ills
but beauty OF garments. house ana lui lli .,'
| is a verv tawdry ornament coiipaIeu WIN