ake all promise-breakers grind. On this tree's top hangs pleasant Liberty, Not seen in Austria, France, Spain, Italy. True Liberty's there ripe, where all confess They may do what they will, save wickedness. Peace is another fruit which this tree bears, The chiefest garland that the country wears, Which o'er all house-tops, towns, and fields doth spread, And stuffs the pillow for each weary head. It bloomed in Europe once, but now 't is gone, And glad to find a desert mansion. Forsaken Truth, Time's daughter, groweth here,— More precious fruit what tree did ever bear,— Whose pleasant sight aloft hath many fed, And what falls down knocks Error on the head.
After a little time, Rebecca found means to draw the good Mr. Eliot into some account of his labors and journeys among the Indians, and of their manner of life, ceremonies, and traditions, telling him that I was a stranger in these parts, and curious concerning such matters.
So he did address himself to me very kindly, answering s
raying that the law might be put in force in respect to John Abbott his wife, the Court do judge it meet, if no further complaint come against her, that she enjoy the company of her husband.
Whereat we all laughed heartily.
Next morning, the fog breaking away early, we set sail for Agamenticus, running along the coast and off the mouth of the Piscataqua River, passing near where my lamented Uncle Edward dwelt, whose fame as a worthy gentleman and magistrate is still living.
We had Mount Agamenticus before us all day,—a fair stately hill, rising up as it were from the water.
Towards night a smart shower came on, with thunderings and lightnings such as I did never see or hear before; and the wind blowing and a great rain driving upon us, we were for a time in much peril; but, through God's mercy, it suddenly cleared up, and we went into the Agamenticus River with a bright sun. Before dark we got to the house of my honored uncle, where, he not being at home, his wife and daughters