NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. No. CCCLXXIII.-JUNE, 1881.-VOL. LXIII. washed by the ocean. These elevated summits are the White Mountains. Enthusiastic tourists long ago gave to this beautiful mountain region the name, a trifle grandiose, of the "Switzerland of America." For beauty and general attractiveness it is believed nothing in our own land can pretend to rival it. There are, it is true, higher mountains, deeper valleys, broader lakes, more stupendous Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by Harper and Brothers, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Vol. LXIII.-No. 373.-1 with me a veritable tour of the mountains, laying everything under contribution, as their lofty peaks do passing clouds. ravines; yet for that rare and exquisite is deserved, I wish my readers to make combination of all the most salient and picturesque types of mountain scenery, the travelled and the untravelled alike award to the White Mountains an incontestable superiority. This is saying a great deal. In order to put it to the test how far this eulogium With this object we will first journey leisurely along its eastern skirts, into the heart of the mountain region. Supposing ourselves now on board an Eastern Rail way train, let us, while rapidly leaving the glittering leagues of seacoast behind, sketch with equal rapidity an outline to be filled in by the fireside at home. The Indians, it is known, inhabited these mountains long before the settlement of any portion of New England by whites. But their villages were chiefly situated upon the skirts, where the hunting and fishing were good, and the ground favorable to their primitive mode of cultivating it. His infallible eye for the best sites is sufficiently evident, since we find the Indian's uncouth wigwam invariably succeeded by the most important settlements of the English. Otherwise, the mountains were for the American Indian, as for the natural man in all ages, a sealed book. He regarded them not only as an image, but as the actual dwelling - place, of Omnipotence. His dreaded Manitou, whose voice was the thunder, whose anger the lightning, and on whose face no mortal could look and live, was the counterpart of the terrible Thor, the Icelandic god, throned in a palace of ice, among frozen and inaccessible peaks. So far, then, as he was concerned, the mountain remained inviolate, inviolable, as a kind of hell filled with the despairing shrieks of those who in an evil hour transgressed the limits sacred to immortals. The first mention I have met with of the Indian name for these mountains is in the narrative of Captain John Gyles, printed in Boston in 1736, saying that "the White Hills called the Teddon [Katahdin], at the head of Penobscot River, are by the Indians said to be much higher than those called Agiockochook, above Saco." The probable signification of this Indian word is, according to the best living authority, "the mountains on that side," or over yonder," to distinguish them from the mountains of the Penobscot. It is not precisely known when or how these granite peaks first took the name of White Mountains. We find them so designated in 1672 by Josselyn, who himself performed the feat of ascending the highest summit, of which a brief record is found in his New England's Rarities. One can not help saying of this book that either the author was a liar of the first magnitude, or else we have to regret the degeneracy of nature, exhausted by her long travail; for this writer gravely tells us of frogs that were as big as a child a year old, and of poisonous serpents which the Indians caught with their bare hands, and ate alive with great gusto. These are rarities indeed! The name is traced, not, as in the case of Mont Blanc, to the fact that their peaks are covered with perpetual snows, for this is true of only half the year, but from the circumstance that the bare granite of which the highest are composed transmits a white light when observed from a distance. Mariners approaching from the open sea descried what seemed a cloudbank rising from the landward horizon when twenty leagues from the nearest coast, and before any other land was visible. short branch railroad to Wolfborough, a very charming village on the shore of Lake Winnipiseogee, where we take steamer for a voyage to Centre Harbor, at the head of the lake. The change comes gratefully to relieve the lassitude we were beginning to feel, the air is so pure, the breezes so refreshing. As the boat glides out of the land-locked inlet, at the bottom of which Wolfborough is situated, one of those pictures forever ineffaceable is presented. All the conditions of a beautiful picture are realized. Here is the shining expanse of the lake, stretching away in the distance, and finally lost among tufted islets and interlocking promontories. To the right, dark, vigorously outlined, and wooded to their summits, are the Ossipee Mountains; to the left, more distant, are the double-domed Belknap peaks; in front, and closing the view, the imposing Sandwich summits dominate the scene. All these mountains seem advancing into the lake. Having taken in the grander features, the eye is occupied with the details. We see the lake quivering in sunshine. From bold summit to beautiful water, the shores are clothed in most vivid green. The islands are almost tropical in the luxuriance and richness of their vegetation, and in the deep shadows they fling down into the lake the image of each is reflected, like that of Narcissus lost in the contemplation of his own beauty. Here and there the glimmer of water through the trees denotes secluded little havens. Boats float idly on the calm surface of the lake, water-fowl rise and beat the glassy dark water with startled wings, white tents appear, and handkerchiefs flutter on the jutting points. Over all tower the mountains. The low, athletic mountain now glidBut we are at length, not at the end of ing into the gap through which we looked our history, but at Wolfborough Junc- at the panorama of moving mountains is tion, and here we are transferred by a | Red Hill. Its position at the head of the lake, overlooking its whole extent, assures us that we shall find an incomparable view from its summit. Let us therefore ascend, as we may easily do before the close of the day, and from its heights behold the gorgeous spectacle of sunset on the lake. mountains, to rest at clouds floating in rosy vapor over their notched summits. From this point the Sandwich Mount- To attempt to describe this ravishing ains obtain far greater interest and char- spectacle is like a profanation. Paradise acter. No two summits are precisely seems to have opened wide its gates to our alike in form or outline. Higher and enraptured gaze; or have we, indeed, surmore distant peaks peer curiously over prised the secrets of the unknown world? their brawny shoulders from their lairs We stand spell-bound, with a strange, exin the Pemigewasset Valley; but more re-quisite feeling at the heart; we feel a thrill markable, more weird, than all, is the gigantic monolith topping the rock-ribbed pile of Chocorua. As the sun glides down the west, a ruddy glow tinges its pinnacle; while the shadows lurking in the ravines, stealing darkly up the mountain-side, crouch for a final spring upon the summit. Little by little twilight flows over the valley, and a thin haze rises from its surface. Glowing in sunset splendor, streaked with all the hues of the rainbow, the lake is indeed magnificent. In vain the eye roves hither and thither, seeking some foil for this peerless beauty. Everywhere the same unrivalled picture leads its captive over the long leagues of gleam of pain when a voice breaks the solemn stillness alone befitting this almost supernatural vision. Vanquished by the incomparable scene, the mind, turning away from earth, runs over the most sublime or touching incidents of Scripture-the Temptation, the Sermon on the Mount, the Transfiguration-and memory brings to our aid these words, so simple, so tender, yet so expressive, "And He went up into the mountain apart to pray." Let us now vary the journey by taking the stage for Tamworth. Let us now go and pay a visit to this strangely fascinating, this Mephistopheles of mountains, gaunt Chocorua. Let us now, sitting at his feet, imbibe the fullness of that grand |