Most of our people come from Boston on the horse-cars, and it is only the
dwellers on the Avenue and the neighboring streets whom hurrying homeward
I follow away from the steam-car station. The Avenue is our handsomest
street; and if it were in the cosmopolitan citizen of Charlesbridge to
feel any local interest, I should be proud of it. As matters are, I
perceive its beauty, and I often reflect, with a pardonable satisfaction,
that it is not only handsome, but probably the very dullest street in the
world. It is magnificently long and broad, and is flanked nearly the whole
way from the station to the colleges by pine palaces rising from spacious
lawns, or from the green of trees or the brightness of gardens. The
splendor is all very new, but newness is not a fault that much affects
architectural beauty, while it is the only one that time is certain to
repair: and I find an honest and unceasing pleasure in the graceful lines
of those palaces, which is not surpassed even by my appreciation of the
vast quiet and monotony of the street itself.
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