h natural resources, both in
regard to form and the development of contrasts of color in foliage,
which are rare in landscape gardening on this side of the Atlantic. Here
is the highest part of the Blue Ridge, and from the gentle summit
of Mount Jefferson the spectator has in view a hundred miles of this
remarkable range, this ribbed mountain structure, which always wears a
mantle of beauty, changeable purple and violet.

After supper there was an illumination of the cascade, and the ancient
gnarled arbor-vita: trees that lean over it-perhaps the largest known
specimens of this species-of the gorge and the Bridge. Nature is apt to
be belittled by this sort of display, but the noble dignity of the vast
arch of stone was superior to this trifling, and even had a sort of
mystery added to its imposing grandeur. It is true that the flaming
bonfires and the colored lights and the tiny figures of men and women
standing in the gorge within the depth of the arch made the scene
theatrical, but it was strange and weird and awful, like the fantasy of
a Walpurgis' Night or a midnight revel in Faust.

The presence of the colored brother in force distinguished this from
provincial resorts at the North, even those that employ this color as
servants. The flavor of Old Virginia is unmistakable, and life drops
into an easy-going pace under this influence. What fine manners, to be
sure! The waiters in the diningroom, in white ties and dress-coats,
move on springs, starting even to walk with a complicated use of all the
muscles of the body, as if in response to the twang of a banjo; they
do nothing without excessive motion and flourish. The gestures and
good-humored vitality expended in changing plates would become the
leader of an orchestra. Many of them, besides, have the expression
of class-leaders--of a worldly sort. There were the aristocratic
chambermaid and porter, who had the air of never having waited on any
but the first families. And what clever flatterers and readers of human
nature! They can tell in a moment whether a man will be complimented by
the remark, "I tuk you for a Richmond gemman, never shod have know'd
you was from de Norf," or whether it is best to say, "We depen's on de
gemmen frum de Norf; folks down hyer never gives noflin; is too pore."
But to a Richmond man it is always, "The Yankee is mighty keerful of
his money; we depen's on the old sort, marse." A fine specimen of the
"Richmond darkey" of the old school-po