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England (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 3
h every department of literature and philosophy. Thomas Lloyd was a ripe and rare scholar. The great Loganian Library of Philadelphia bears witness to the varied learning and classical taste of its donor, James Logan. Thomas Story, member of the Council of State, Master of the Rolls, and Commissioner of Claims under William Penn, and an able minister of his Society, took a deep interest in scientific questions, and in a letter to his friend Logan, written while on a religious visit to Great Britain, seems to have anticipated the conclusion of modern geologists. ‘I spent,’ he says, ‘some months, especially at Scarborough, during the season attending meetings, at whose high cliffs and the variety of strata therein and their several positions I further learned and was confirmed in some things,—that the earth is of much older date as to the beginning of it than the time assigned in the Holy Scriptures as commonly understood, which is suited to the common capacities of mankind, as to s
Nain (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
peneth unto all. “Yet, sometimes glimpses on my sight, Through present wrong, the eternal right; And, step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man; That all of good the past hath had Remains to make our own time glad, Our common daily life divine, And every land a Palestine. Thou weariest of thy present state; What gain to thee time's holiest date? The doubter now perchance had been As High Priest or as Pilate then! What thought Chorazin's scribes? What faith In Him had Nain and Nazareth? Of the few followers whom He led One sold Him,—all forsook and fled. O friend! we need nor rock nor sand, Nor storied stream of Morning-Land; The heavens are glassed in Merrimac,— What more could Jordan render back? We lack but open eye and ear To find the Orient's marvels here; The still small voice in autumn's hush, Yon maple wood the burning bush. For still the new transcends the old, In signs and tokens manifold; Slaves rise up men; the olive waves, With roots deep set i<
Dutch (West Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
lcome to the Western spring, And bluebird borrowing from the sky his wing. And when the miracle of autumn came, And all the woods with many-colored flame Of splendor, making summer's greenness tame, Burned, unconsumed, a voice without a sound Spake to him from each kindled bush around, And made the strange, new landscape holy ground! And when the bitter north-wind, keen and swift, Swept the white street and piled the dooryard drift, He exercised, as Friends might say, his gift Of verse, Dutch, English, Latin, like the hash Of corn and beans in Indian succotash; Dull, doubtless, but with here and there a flash Of wit and fine conceit,—the good man's play Of quiet fancies, meet to while away The slow hours measuring off an idle day. At evening, while his wife put on her look Of love's endurance, from its niche he took The written pages of his ponderous book. And read, in half the languages of man, His ‘Rusca Apium,’ which with bees began, And through the gamut of creation ran. <
Deerfield, Mass. (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
flowers,— Roving boy and laughing maiden, In their school-day hours, Love the simple tale to tell Of the Indian and his well. 1837. Pentucket. The village of Haverhill, on the Merrimac, called by the Indians Pentucket, was for nearly seventeen years a frontier town, and during thirty years endured all the horrors of savage warfare. In the year 1708, a combined body of French and Indians, under the command of De Chaillons, and Hertel de Rouville, the infamous and bloody sacker of Deerfield, made an attack upon the village, which at that time contained only thirty houses. Sixteen of the villagers were massacred, and a still larger number made prisoners. About thirty of the enemy also fell, and among them Hertel de Rouville. The minister of the place, Benjamin Rolfe, was killed by a shot through his own door. In a paper entitled The Border War of 1708, published in my collection of Recreations and Miscellanies, I have given a prose narrative of the surprise of Haverhill.
Massachusetts (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
ssion of Acadia, forms one of the most romantic passages in the history of the New World. La Tour received aid in several instances from the Puritan colony of Massachusetts. During one of his voyages for the purpose of obtaining arms and provisions for his establishment at St. John, his castle was attacked by D'Aulnay, and succeshand grasped his sword-hilt, His forehead grew black. He sprang on the deck Of his shallop again. “We cruise now for vengeance! Give way!” cried Estienne. “Massachusetts shall hear Of the Huguenot's wrong, And from island and creekside Her fishers shall throng! Pentagoet shall rue What his Papists have done, When his palisades be found therewith: Unto gentleness belong Gifts unknown to pride and wrong; Happier far than hate is praise,— He who sings than he who slays. Banished from Massachusetts. 1660. On a painting by E. A. Abbey. The General Court of Massachueetts enacted Oct. 19, 1658, that any person or persons of the cursed sect of Quakers
Great Neck, N. Y. (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
ending where The Gulf, midsummer, feels the chill blockade Of icebergs stranded at its northern gate. To thee the echoes of the Island Sound Answer not vainly, nor in vain the moan Of the South Breaker prophesying storm. And thou hast listened, like myself, to men Sea-periled oft where Anticosti lies Like a fell spider in its web of fog, Or where the Grand Bank shallows with the wrecks Of sunken fishers, and to whom strange isles And frost-rimmed bays and trading stations seem Familiar as Great Neck and Kettle Cove, Nubble and Boon, the common names of home. So let me offer thee this lay of mine, Simple and homely, lacking much thy play Of color and of fancy. If its theme And treatment seem to thee befitting youth Rather than age, let this be my excuse: It has beguiled some heavy hours and called Some pleasant memories up; and, better still, Occasion lent me for a kindly word To one who is my neighbor and my friend. 1883. The skipper sailed out of the harbor mouth, Leaving the
Olga (North Dakota, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
ng to the refectory, Rousseau said tome, with his heart overflowing, At this moment I experience what is said in the gospel: Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. There is here a feeling of peace and happiness which penetrates the soul. I said, If Fenelon had lived, you would have been a Catholic. He exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, Oh, if Fenelon were alive, I would struggle to get into his service, even as a lackey! In my sketch of Saint Pierre, it will be seen that I have somewhat antedated the period of his old age. At that time he was not probably more than fifty. In describing him, I have by no means exaggerated his own history of his mental condition at the period of the story. In the fragmentary Sequel to his Studies of Nature, he thus speaks of himself: The ingratitude of those of whom I had deserved kindness, unexpected family misfortunes, the total loss of my small patrimony through enterprises solely undertaken for t
Dover, N. H. (New Hampshire, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
umbers by fighting and famine that they agreed to a peace with Major Waldron at Dover, but the peace was broken in the fall of 1676. The famous chief, Squando, was es of our youth, But in His own best way!” 1882. How the women went from Dover. The following is a copy of the warrant issued by Major Waldron, of Dover, Dover, in 1662. The Quakers, as was their wont, prophesied against him, and saw, as they supposed, the fulfilment of their prophecy when, many years after, he was killed by the Indians. To the constables of Dover, Hampton, Salisbury, Newbury, Rowley, Ipswich, Wenham, Lynn, Boston, Roxbury, Dedham, and until these vagabond Quakers aer it at your peril; and this shall be your warrant. Richard Waldron. Dated at Dover, December 22, 1662. This warrant was executed only in Dover and Hampton. ADover and Hampton. At Salisbury the constable refused to obey it. He was sustained by the town's people, who were under the influence of Major Robert Pike, the leading man in the lower
Nashua (New Hampshire, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
so cold and so lone, From the arms of that wintry-locked mother of stone, By hills hung with forests, through vales wide and free, Thy mountain-born brightness glanced down to the sea! No bridge arched thy waters save that where the trees Stretched their long arms above thee and kissed in the breeze: No sound save the lapse of the waves on thy shores, The plunging of otters, the light dip of oars. Green-tufted, oak-shaded, by Amoskeag's fall Thy twin Uncanoonucs rose stately and tall, Thy Nashua meadows lay green and unshorn, And the hills of Pentucket were tasselled with corn. But thy Pennacook valley was fairer than these, And greener its grasses and taller its trees, Ere the sound of an axe in the forest had rung, Or the mower his scythe in the meadows had swung. In their sheltered repose looking out from the wood The bark-builded wigwams of Pennacook stood; There glided the corn-dance, the council-fire shone, And against the red war-post the hatchet was thrown. There the old
Gennesaret (Israel) (search for this): chapter 3
ight and air of Palestine, Impregnate with His life divine! Oh, bear me thither! Let me look On Siloa's pool, and Kedron's brook; Kneel at Gethsemane, and by Gennesaret walk, before I die! Methinks this cold and northern night Would melt before that Orient light; And, wet by Hermon's dew and rain, My childhood's faith revive a “O stranger; but if need be thine, I bid thee welcome, for the sake Of Him who is thy Lord and mine.” A grave, calm face the stranger raised, Like His who on Gennesaret trod, Or His on whom the Chaldeans gazed, Whose form was as the Son of God. ‘Know'st thou,’ he said, ‘thy gift of old?’ And in the hand he lifted up The Pontier own the pitying love of Christ. So wheresoe'er the guiding Spirit went She followed, finding every prison cell It opened for her sacred as a tent Pitched by Gennesaret or by Jacob's well. And Pride and Fashion felt her strong appeal, And priest and ruler marvelled as they saw How hand in hand went wisdom with her zeal, A
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