d feels the influence of the tides beyond Haverhill. This gives
picturesque effects at many points. The highest of the hills have
summits about three hundred and sixty feet above the surface of the
river, and there are many little lakes and ponds nestling in the
hollows in every direction. In the early days these hills were crowned
with lordly growths of oak and pine, and some of them still retain
these adornments. But most of the summits are now open pastures or
cultivated fields. The roofs and spires of prosperous cities and
villages are seen here and there among their shade trees, and give a
human interest to the lovely landscape. It is not surprising that
Whittier found inspiration for the beautiful descriptive passages which
occur in every poem which has this river for theme or illustration:--

"Stream of my fathers! sweetly still
The sunset rays thy valley fill;
Poured slantwise down the long defile,
Wave, wood, and spire beneath them smile."

[Illustration: RIVER PATH]

Here is a description of the scenery of the Merrimac valley by Mr.
Whittier himself, in a review of Rev. P. S. Boyd's "Up and Down the
Merrimac," written for a journal with which I was connected, and never
reprinted until now:--

"The scenery of the lower valley of the Merrimac is not bold
or remarkably picturesque, but there is a great charm in the
panorama of its soft green intervales: its white steeples
rising over thick clusters of elms and maples, its neat
villages on the slopes of gracefully rounded hills, dark
belts of woodland, and blossoming or fruited orchards, which
would almost justify the words of one who formerly
sojourned on its banks, that the Merrimac is the fairest
river this side of Paradise. Thoreau has immortalized it in
his 'Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers.' The late
Caleb Cushing, who was not by nature inclined to sentiment
and enthusiasm, used to grow eloquent and poetical when he
spoke of his native river. Brissot, the leader of the
Girondists in the French Revolution, and Louis Philippe, who
were familiar with its scenery, remembered it with pleasure.
Anne Bradstreet, the wife of Governor Bradstreet, one of the
earliest writers of verse in New England, sang of it at her
home on its banks at Andover; and the lovely mistress of
Deer Island, who sees on one hand the rising moon lean above
the lo