50 PRISCILLA, THE PILGRIM MAIDEN. Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth, Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music together, Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the wall of a churchyard, Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the verses. Such was the book from whose pages she sang the old Puritan anthem, She, the Puritan girl,* in the solitude of the forest, Making the humble house and the modest apparel of home-spun Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the wealth of her being! H. W. Longfellow. The compiler respectfully takes exception to the term "Puritan" as applied to the Pilgrim Fathers, or any one of their company. They were Separatists, but not Puritans; the distinctions between these parties are too important to admit of any tampering with the facts on this point. The Puritans justified the intrusion of the powers of the State into the realins of conscience, and invoked those powers to enforce their views. The Separatists-to their eternal honour be it spoken-never persecuted, even in a persecuting age, and, when called upon to do so, protested and voted against it, as utterly opposed to Christ's teaching. They were also the first in modern times to assert the absolute supremacy of Christ in all matters concerning a Christian's conscience, and the independence of Christ's Kingdom of the powers of the world. THE MAYFLOWER RIDING AT ANCHOR. EVENING. Slowly as out of the heavens, with apocalyptical splen dors, Sank the City of God, in the vision of John the Apostle, So, with its cloudy walls of chrysolite, jasper, and sapphire, Sank the broad red sun, and over its turrets uplifted Glimmered the golden reed of the angel who measured the city. Dimly the shadowy form of the Mayflower riding at anchor, Rocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on the morrow. MORNING. -The village of Plymouth Woke from its sleep, and arose, intent on its manifold labors. Sweet was the air and soft; and slowly the smoke from the chimneys Rose over roofs of thatch, and pointed steadily east ward; Men came forth from the doors, and paused and talked of the weather, 52 THE MAYFLOWER RIDING AT ANCHOR. Said that the wind had changed, and was blowing fair for the Mayflower. Merrily sang the birds, and the tender voices of women Consecrated with hymns the common cares of the household. Out of the sea rose the sun, and the billows rejoiced at his coming; Beautiful were his feet on the purple tops of the moun tains; Beautiful on the sails of the Mayflower riding at anchor, Battered and blackened and worn by all the storms of the winter. Loosely against her masts was hanging and flapping her canvas, Rent by so many gales, and patched by the hands of the sailors. Suddenly from her side, as the sun rose over the ocean, Darted a puff of smoke, and floated seaward; anon rang Loud over field and forest the cannon's roar, and the echoes Heard and repeated the sound, the signal-gun of departure! Ah! but with louder echoes replied the hearts of the people! Meekly, in voices subdued, the chapter was read from the Bible, Meekly the prayer was begun, but ended in fervent entreaty ! THE MAYFLOWER RIDING AT ANCHOR. 53 Then from their houses in haste came forth the Pilgrims of Plymouth, Men and women and children, all hurrying down to the sea-shore, Eager, with tearful eyes, to say farewell to the Mayflower, Homeward bound o'er the sea, and leaving them here in THE RETURN OF THE MAYFLOWER. After remaining one hundred and ten days in Plymouth harbour, this historical and gallant little ship returned to England in April, 1621; and, notwithstanding their reduction by death, their sufferings, perils, and privations, all the surviving Pilgrims remained at their posts; not one re-embarked. O STRONG hearts and true! not one went back in the Mayflower! No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this ploughing! Soon were heard on board the shouts and songs of the sailors Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting the ponderous anchor. Then the yards were braced, and all sails set to the west-wind, Blowing steady and strong; and the Mayflower sailed from the harbour, Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving far to the southward Island and cape of sand, and the "Field of the First Encounter,"* So called from the encounter with the Indians on the first landing of the Pilgrims. |