ands near it; some, because it had most edible
birds, and the best figs; but none of those who now coveted residences
there for their families, or the name of residences there, would allow
even to themselves, what was the simple fact, that the place received it
highest distinction on account of the more distinguished individuals who
dwelt on it. At first, the _name_ was given to several settlements in
the group, just as the Manhattanese have their East and West Broadway;
and, just for the very same reasons that have made them so rich in
Broadways, they will have ere long, first-fifth, second-fifth, and
third-fifth avenue, unless common sense begins to resume its almost
forgotten sway among the aldermen. But this demonstration in the way of
names, did not satisfy the minor-majority, after they got into the
ascendant; and a law was passed authorizing a new survey, and a new
subdivision of the public lands on the Peak, among the citizens of the
colony. On some pretence of justice, that is not very easily to be
understood, those who had property there already were not to have shares
in the new lottery; a lottery, by the way, in which the prizes were
about twice as large as those which had originally been distributed
among the colonists.

But, Mark and Bridget endeavoured to forget everything unpleasant in
this visit to their much-loved home. They regarded the place as a boon
from Providence, that demanded all their gratitude, in spite of the
abuses of which it was the subject; and never did it seem to them more
exquisitely beautiful, perhaps it never had been more perfectly lovely,
than it appeared the hour they left it. Mark remembered it as he found
it, a paradise in the midst of the waters, wanting only in man to erect
the last great altar in his heart, in honour of its divine creator. As
yet, its beauties had not been much marred; though the new irruption
menaced them, with serious injuries.

Mr. and Mrs. Woolston took leave of their friends, and tore themselves
away from the charming scenery of the Peak, with heavy hearts. The
Rancocus was waiting for them, under the lee of the island, and
everybody was soon on board her. The sails were filled, and the ship
passed out from among the islands, by steering south, and hauling up
between the Peak and the volcano. The latter now seemed to be totally
extinct. No more smoke arose from it, or had indeed risen from it, for a
twelvemonth. It was an island, and in time it might b