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��S. Paul's School.
��landscape. Beyond this to the right are the Epsom hills, from which it is said the Atlantic is visible. The course of the river can be followed by its high eastern bank, though the waters are hidden until they make a sharp turn in their descent to run the mills of Hooksett. This sudden ap- pearance of the Merrimack is a sec- ond striking feature in the view from Prospect.
Our subject, however, lies to the west of Concord, in the little valley of Millville. Against the horizon rests the bold, tri-parted mass of the Francestown mountains, and the two peaks of the Uncanoonucs which overhano- Goflfstown. Thence the de- scent is gradual, the hillsides being covered with oak and pine, to the shining waters of Big Turkev lake. These find an outlet by a stream which, after sweeping around three points of the compass, runs a saw- mill that marks the northern bounda- ry of 400 acres belonging to S. Paul's School. The stream then broadens, and two ponds are formed, whose lit- tle bays are called familiarly Ontario, Mexico, etc. Next, a picturesque old red grist-mill is reached : its wheel no longer grinds the farmer's corn, but saws fire-wood and launders clothes. Next, the stream skirts a rink, which in winter, even after the heaviest fall of snow, is alive with skaters, while in the dry summer sea- son, from beneath its surface, can now be pumped .^COOO gallons of water a day to fill the reservoir among the hills, which is capal)le of holding about 2,000,000 gallons. An eighth of a mile faither down its course the stream runs along what is probably one of the most beautiful play -grounds
��in the world. The great level^field is shut in on three sides by woodlaud, while the opening looks directly up the slope of the hill on which we may be supposed to be standing. This, in spring and summer, is fresh and green with the vegetation of those seasons, which is glorious in its richer after- dress of red and gold.
If we now look straight down into the valley below, no less than eigh- teen distinct buildings can be count- ed. In among the trees stand three in a group somewhat apart from the others. First of all we mark the slender spire of the chapel. It sug- aests all that is done for the religious and moral training of the boys, the development and strengthening of the highest part of their being. It reveals the secret of all that is best about the place, in motive, purpose, work, and aspiration. Except for what that heaven-pointing spire repre- sents, the community had never exist- ed. For, as Arnold used to say of Rugby, this is nothing if it is not a Christian school. Within the little chapel each morning more than 300 voices offer up their praises to the Author of their being, the Giver of all good and perfect gifts, not the small- est one of which it is their high privi- lege to enjoy in this valley. They confess the same faith for which that famous scholar of ancient times, whose name they bear, studied, and wrote, and taught. They pray the prayer he prayed, aud read the words he read. Young and unworthy they may be. yet they claim to belong to that same school of which he was once, and is more so to-day, a teach- er. His splendid life and work and death are the high standard held up
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