Is it not one of the rich rewards of a long visit in any valley, to be able to drive directly to the seats which Nature has fixed along her picture-gallery, for studying leisurely, to the best advantage, her masterpieces of drawing, her most fascinating combinations of sublimity and loveliness, and the most mystic touches of her pencils of light, that edge the "mountain gloom" with "mountain glory?" Travellers in New Hampshire do not think enough of the simple fact that every triumph of a human artist is only an illusion, producing a semblance of a real charm of air or foliage, of sunset cloud, or dewy grass, or mountain splendor, which Nature offers. If a man could. own all the landscape canvas which the first painters of the world. have colored, it would not be a tithe so rich an endowment, as if Providence should quicken his eye with keener sensibility to the hues of the west at evening, the grace of trees, and the pomp of piled or drifting clouds.

We have called attention to this law of focal distance in connection with the Androscoggin valley, and to the privilege which belongs to Gorham among other places near the White Hills that rightfully claim our interest, because it is less known, thus far, than any other point of so easy access. And let any traveller who stays in Gorham before going to "The Glen," and who is disposed to test this law in the most satisfactory and decisive way, drive in an open wagon from the Alpine House down the river towards Shelburne. He will find, on the return drive, that a perfectly finished picture is shown from a small hill, about four miles from the hotel, just at the turn of the road that leads to "The Lead-mine Bridge." Mount Madison sits on a plateau over the Androscoggin meadows. No intervening ridges hide his pyramid, or break the keen lines of his sides. He towers clear, symmetrical, and proud, against the vivid blue of the western sky. And as if the bright foreground of the meadows golden in the afternoon light, and the velvety softness of the vague blue shadows that dim the desolation of the mountain, and the hues that flame on the peaks of its lower ridges, and the vigor of its sweep upwards to a sharp crest, are not enough to perfect the

artistic finish of the picture, a frame is gracefully carved out of two nearer hills, to seclude it from any neighboring roughness around the Peabody valley, and to narrow into the most shapely proportions the plateau from which it soars. It is not probable that the tourist

will find any other point in the region, where one of the White Moun tains is singled out from the rest and drawn so firmly in isolated grandeur. And yet he will find that a quarter of a mile, either way, from the insignificant hill on which his wagon rests, spoils the charm of the picture by breaking the frame, or cutting away the base, or shutting out some portion of the meadow foreground, or extinguishing the flashes of the silvery river.

This view, during the long midsummer days, can be enjoyed after

tea, and before sunset, when the light is most propitious, on the same day that the traveller leaves Boston. A drive of three quarters of an hour from the Alpine House in Gorham, on the Shelburne road, is the only exertion it costs. Or, the same time devoted to a wagon ride towards Berlin, or towards Randolph, will bring out other mountains of the range, framed off in similar ways from the chain, in majesty equally impressive; though no other view, perhaps, combines so many elements of a fascinating mountain-landscape.

THE SACO VALLEY.

By the Saco valley the tourist is led to the extreme westerly base of the Mount Washington range, as by the Androscoggin valley he reaches, at once, the extreme easterly declivities. The nearest point to the Saco route accessible by railroad is the shore of Lake Winnipiseogee. The borders of this charming sheet of water may be reached in about five hours. One can go by the Boston and Maine railroad, connecting with the Cocheco railroad at Dover, which ends at Alton Bay, or by the Boston, Concord, and Montreal road, which has a station on the shore of the lake, at Weir's. By the Alton Bay route, the steamer traverses the length of the lake thirty miles to Centre Harbor; from Weir's, the steamer's track is across the lake diagonally to Centre Harbor, and is twelve miles. We shall devote a separate chapter to the scenery of Lake Winnipiseogee, and of its immediate neighborhood, and therefore will not detain the reader here with any prelude about its attractions.

From Centre Harbor, the distance to the base of the White Mountain range at the Crawford House, which is situated just beyond the further gateway of "The Notch," is sixty-two miles. It is travelled wholly by stage. Until within a very few years, this was the only route by which the heart of the hill-country in New Hampshire could be reached. And we question if now, when the cars carry

visitors so much more speedily to villages much nearer the two great ranges, so much pleasure and profit are gained from the journey, as when the approach was gradually made along the line of the Sandwich range to the Saco at Conway; and when every traveller went away with delightful recollections of the ride through Bartlett, up the narrowing and darkening valley, which gradually prepares the eye and mind for the desolation and the gloom of "The Notch," through which the Saco, as a mere rivulet, hurries towards the meadows below.

The journey from Centre Harbor to "The Notch" is naturally divided by Conway, where there is a large and excellent hotel. Leaving Boston in the morning, crossing Lake Winnipiseogee and stopping only to dine at Centre Harbor, Conway is the nearest point to the Mount Washington range that can be reached by regular stage the same night. This is still thirty-two miles from the Crawford House and The Notch." If the roads are in tolerable condition, and the afternoon is not excessively hot, the passengers, who make thus their first excursion to the Hills, will not only be interested in the varied forms of the Sandwich range, but will have a glorious view, in the evening light, from the top of Eaton Hill, before entering Conway, of

the mountains piled

Heavily against the horizon of the north,

Like summer thunder-clouds.

They might be mistaken for clouds, until one sees that their form is permanent, and that their edges, firmly drawn and not fleecy as cloud-shapes are, show a delicate gleam of thoroughly tempered steel against the evening sky. What refreshment for the fatigues of the journey, and what glorious promise for the morrow, in those cool, dark towers and domes that swell along the northwest, and on whose heights no tropic-breath is ever blown!

Conway is too generally considered now a mere resting-place for the night. Many persons, if they should fail to rise early enough for the morning stage to "The Notch," would hardly know what to

do with a day thus left unemployed upon their hands. And yet, if they have any taste for landscape, they might take excursions by wagon from the hotel, that would make them grateful for the interruption of their journey. Let them drive, for instance, some nine miles to Chocorua Lake, in which the rugged, torn, lonely, and proud-peaked mountain reflects the ravage of its slopes and the vigor of its lines, and, when a week is over, let them say if they would willingly drop this picture from the portfolio of their memory. Many of the most competent artists, who have made faithful studies during summer vacations in New Hampshire, award superiority to Chocorua for picturesqueness over any view that they have found of Mount Washington.

After this view is taken, (or instead of it, if there is time only for one,) let an excursion be made to Gould's Pond, about equally distant in another direction. Chocorua and the Mote Mountain will form many charming associations, during the winding drive, until Potter's Farm is reached. Here is a combination of lake and mountain scenery different from anything to be found between Centre Harbor and "The Notch." Fortunate will the tourist be, who can find any other view, along this whole favorite avenue to the mountains, that he can call more fascinating. The lake is a fine broad expanse of water, with many islands. The Rattlesnake range, one of the guardian walls of North Conway, stretches off to the right, overtopped by the feminine beauty of the slopes of Kiarsarge. To the left are "The Ledges" and the neighboring heights. A little below these, and on nearly the same line, rise the Mote and Chocorua, towering over intervening hills. And in the centre, the White Mountains, back of all, heave their bulk crowned by the dome of Mount Washington. Any grand landscape-view of the highest range, with a lake or a wide river prospect in the foreground, is so rare, that special attention should be called to each of them in any guidebook. Yet not one in a thousand of the summer visitors to New Hampshire has ever seen either of these views, so easily accessible from Conway. Not one in a thousand, probably, has ever heard of