There's a panorama!" It was indeed.

All around the high flat a valley lay, like a moat, or as if some broad river had been dried up in its course, and, century after century, gradually converted into meadow, woodland, and town.
For a little white town sat demurely at the bottom of the hollow, and a score or two of white cottages scattered themselves from this small nucleus of civilisation over the opposite bank of this imaginary river, which was now a lovely hill-side.

Gorges, purple with shadow, yellow corn-fields, and dark clumps of woodland dressed this broad hill-side in many colours; its highest point, Nunnely Hill, forming the horizon where last night I had seen the sun go down, and which now was tinted with the tenderest western morning grey.
"Do you like this, Phineas?
I do, very much.

A dear, smiling, English valley, holding many a little nest of an English home.

Fancy being patriarch over such a region, having the whole valley in one's hand, to do good to, or ill.