New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1881-07-28

your CHAR that you may become better acquainted
with this new frame brought from the top of Minsi,
which you look at lazily and salute as a far-off
frlend-not that this delicate air predsposes you
to feats OF activity; at least my experience of 1t
was that it tempted one with the quiet which &C
companied it, to prolonged dolce far niente 1t
was not exactly laziness; it was not the dreamy
sluggishness of Thomson's Castle of Incidence; 1t
was not the dissolution of Tennysons Lotos Eaters
put rather sense Of reserved strength, with
no present inclination to bring it into requisiton.
You could, an you would; but you did not choose
to. Emerson's words in Mature" came into my
mind: Almost fear to think how glad am" Yet
1t was quiet gladness. The senses taking
their holiday. Eye and ear had come for vaca-
ton, the brain and weary finger for a furlougb
ana 10! there was revelation that there was
work in rest, and accomplishment possible without
running about, and an excellence worth having, with
no fuss in it.
This is the abstract side of my Water Gap visit.
MY readers will thank me more heartily, perhaps,
Tor some notice of different sort of creature COM
fort. 1t is pleasant to find that while nature has
done her part man has done his to make this re-
treat almost faultless. bad hotel would spoil oil.
Nobody can enjoy scenery when driven to growl
about his dinner. Mr. Brodheads Water Gap House,
which believe has already been favorably noticed
III The TRIBUNE, is to me q sort of miracle.
Perchcd upon the top of Sunset HILL you might
from lemon"; and yet it would be hard to find
better house in all New-York. Some things, of
course are to be had anywhere with little care
good beds, for instance and civil treatment but
Mr. Brodhcad has contrved to create hat is usually
called "a tirst-cass hotel" in the wilderness, he also
contrlves to maintain it there, with cook who is
an artist, and with all upon whom you depend fer
comfort and convenience, willing oblging and in
telhgent. There is crowding, no jostling. no
hngtl Ibn 41raa hmm ren
guests have ample elbow room, and one may make
new acquaintance not as he p'eases There is a
little dancing in the dining-room once or twice a
week but it is composed mostly of the young folks
the older and wiser evidently have not to
the Water Gap to dance. We know all of the far
off outside world which we care to know. The New
YORK morning newspapers we have by noon and
there are two mails u day by which may
keep rapport with business or family or friends.
But for this nj ht well land very well it s)
ne IN the Happy Valley of Rasselas. SO we read
novels ana chat and dream waking dreams and
sleep dreamlcssly all night; so we get Up every
morning with feeling that life is worth living, and
with conviction that all work and no play"
Is good neither for Jack nor for ourselves
There must be, suppose. n great many people at
the Water Gap, for there are a good maay hotels
besides our own. But there is, rs have said no
sense of crowding Absolute solitude l., TO ne had
by those who like it, almost within stones throw
OF those hundred human beings. Perfect rest is
within reach Of all. There - nothing to irritatc or
annoy There ia silence, if silence be desira bic and
chat for those Who relish il. so il is not strange
that thosc who visit the Water Gap come again
and again. They may already begin to feel that it
belongs to thom; but that is a harmless delusion.
The railway will carry any body there, and the
Water Gap House is "a very conmodious structure
C.T.C