ied beauties, especially of
its rural districts--the rich meadows, the waving corn-fields, the thick
woods, and, more than all, the shady lanes and green hedges, full of
roses and honeysuckles, with numberless beautiful flowers growing on the
mossy bank beneath them. But still deeper impression did the
sequestered village make on me, with its open green and neat cottages,
surrounded by pretty gardens; and its clear pond, with gravelly bed; and
its neighbouring coppice; and its quiet church, with graceful spire; and
the neat and unpretending parsonage; and the old minister, with thin
cheeks and long white hair, and grave, yet kind loving countenance, to
whom all smiled and courtesied or doffed their hats as he passed; and
the long low school-house, with rosy, noisy children rushing out of it,
and scattering here and there instantly to begin their play; and the
buxom mothers and old dames coming out from their doors to watch them,
or to chat with each other in the intervals of work; and the sheep on
the sunny downs above; and the sparkling stream which came murmuring by,
half overgrown with bushes, so that its pleasant sound alone showed its
locality; and its deep pool, where the trout loved to lie; and the
cattle in the green meadow, seeking for shade under the tall elms, or
with lazy strokes of their tails whisking off the flies; and the boys
whistling in the fields; and the men, with long white smocks and gay
handkerchiefs worked in front, tending the plough or harrow, or driving
the lightly-laden waggon or cart with sturdy well-fed horses. And then
the air of tranquillity and repose which pervaded the spot, the
contentment visible everywhere, made an impression on me which time has
never been able to obliterate, and which, in far, far-off regions, has
come back on me with greater force than ever, and prevented me from
remaining, as many of my companions did, among their half-savage
inhabitants, to enjoy the supposed delights of idleness, and has renewed
in me the desire to end my days in my fatherland.

In such a scene as I have described I found the family of my poor
shipmate. I easily made myself known. They had no doubt of the truth
of my story, and gave me a kind though tearful welcome. The old mother
seized my arm and pushed me into a seat, which she mechanically wiped
with her blue apron; the tall sunburned father, with grizzled locks, and
dressed in long smock and yellow gaiters, grasped my hand.

"And yo