New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1869-06-14
THE WoES OF WATERING PLACES

THE Woes OF WATERING PLACES.
Watering places are mirage, Afar off they
look brilliant and enticing. They are phan-
toms Of pleasure, hospitality, rest, delight.
| Approached, the unsubstantial vision resolves
| itself into the sun of Fashion and the bubble,
reputation. The sea- the lakes the hills, the
springs, all offer an excuse but not reason
for watering place. Reason, fOrsOoth! Rea-
| son for one and reason at one are equally In
conceivable.
| sane man or woman, dreaming of the
mountains, has foregleams of an eternal
majesty and beauty, of an icy purity and
peace of limitless freedom as of the winds
that blow through the passes; dreaming Of
the sea, has sight of worlds unknown and a
| larger life, and hears solemnly chanted the
burden and the mystery of these narrow days;
dreaming Of lakes, looks out on level leagues
of blue, where tiny islands float like flower
cups, and the still shores seem to sleep;
dreaming Of springs, fancies woodland nook
all greenness, and GOODNESS, and Odor-mOsses
and the shining leaves of the wake-robin
under foot a shade of dancing leaves over
head, and the tIickle of water among gray
rocks. Then the sane man or woman, taking
counsel of the soul, says: AT the White
Mountains, or Long Branch, or Lake George,
cor Saratoga, not only shall this prophetic
vision be seen Of these teshly eyes, but
{" fine society shall be encountered. Lovely
"persons will go there to find other lovely
"persons from Atlantis and Cathay, who could
"never hope TO meet but at such common
"center. They will move in an atmosphere of
"quiet and refinement, of gayety and
"leisure, of simplicity and sweetness. There
"shall be found the grace of the city without
ats pretensions, tho elegance without the ex-
"clusiveness, the brliancy without the glare.
"A Summer month would fly too fieetly thus,
! "and the only pain be that of parting. Let
Gus hasten thither.n The sane man or woman
| then packs the pertinent worldly gear, and ar
rives, let us say, ut Saratoga. The lovely vii
| lagc of the imagination, regal with elms and
musical with waters, turns into a colony of no.
tells, each bigger and winter, and more preten-
tious than the other. Choosing one
for his abode the eager traveller bethinks
! him of his woodland nook and wanders
forth to find it. The Spring, at thought of
which his heart leaped up, is melancholy
orifce in the floor of a wooden pavilion, like
| a huge bung-hol in the great Tun of Hedel-
berg. Shock headed boys dip up tumblers-tull
of nauseousness and absorb pennies with pre-
ternatural Tapdity. An the world and her
| husband lounge over the ratings, and giggle,
| and tattle, and gossip. The odOrous meadow
! is rcctangle, primly fenced. For spongy
mosses stretch hard, straight walks of gravel (;
! for gloom and stiffness, are glare of sun and
| clink of metallic voices for rest, the friction
of q restless erowd. Back to his hotel tolls
| the ingenious tourist in search of the ideal So
ciety. Loud, slangy, or stupid men confront
| him; brazen, oyerdressed, and fippant women /;
poor little children older than their mothers,
and arrogant as their fathers. No doubt the
gracious citizens of Atlantis and Cathay are
| there, but he cannot find them. For this Fools
| Paradise is but transplanted New-1ork. The
people who knew each other at home,
josted in the Exchange, or outdressed each
| other at routs meet again to say and do the
same things, to eat and drink the same things,
TO follow, in the country, the same empty
| fashion of life which disquiets them in town.
| And the quiet, earnest, simple souls who did
not guess that dress and diamonds were the
measure of social success look on, amused on
| the first day, bored on the second, saddened on
| the third, and cynical on the fourth, If by any
| chance they stay so long. Every sense is OF
Tended by this artificial life. The great dim
| ing-roOms, with their gregarious and greedy
! diners; the great bathrooms, with their staring
walls and floods of light, and SNOWY toilets OF
women submitting to be stared at by all man
ner of men; the great bowling-alleys, with
their noisy troops of bowlers; the great parlors,
| with their eternal dress-parade of vanites; the
great lawn. where conscious croquet-players in
vte admiration; the great piazzas, crowded
with promenaders brassier than the mstru-
ments that time their steps-what part have
refinement and good sense, and good taste in
! these exhibitons7
If the tourist, listening with credulity to the
whispers of fancy, and expecting that the
| deficiencies Of the present day will be supplied
by the morrow, comes yet undismayed to Long
Branch, he viii wear his rue with but the
slightest difference. There is an ocean, to be
sure; but only certain maniacs. mad for Nep-
| tune and the Nereids remember it. There Is a
bleak and barren stretch of sand doomed, at
the Primal Curse, " bear hotels. And 1t u
tho business u tAo sweuey thoSEad pcarAs
who Opend Aair ssMAcn Gssrs b. eaA. sd
drink, ana essce, end kirt, end dresA and
gable about nothing, 30 that they may come
back TO town more extravagant, more un-
real moro censori0us, more worldly, more inane
than they went AHay. Newport, and Sharon.
IA III ns.wrarN ktnn uVor, ssad hAcauAe