'I must go beyond second causes, Capt. Wing, for such a wonderful deliverance as this; our gratitude is due to a higher Power, and I would never forget it.'
'A sailor's gratitude, Walter, does not often express itself in words, but its impulses are not the less strong because they are invisible.'
'They are transient, however,' said Walter, 'and the occasion that gives them birth is forgotten as a dream. Gratitude must be a steady principle, and not a blind emotion; its fruits must be visible in the life.'
'We sailors,' said Wing, 'are not preachers; we do not study the items of theology; if we did, we should be poor navigators. You are a boy, Strale, and have seen little of the world; a few more tramps over its rough surface, and you will think nothing of these narrow escapes.'
Walter did not reply, but resting on the tafferel, and casting his eye over the fading light of a gorgeous sunset, he traced the beautiful images of a better land, and breathed an earnest prayer that he might be fitted to enter at last upon its pure and everlasting felicities.
No other incident of importance occurred, and on the evening of the third of July, the schooner was moored by the side of a little island off the harbor of Boston. The boat landed Walter and some of the crew by the side of a fine rivulet which flowed from the rock. The quiet evening soon gathered around, and was occupied in grateful recollections of the past, and bright anticipations of the morrow. The antiquary may be interested to know that all which remains of that green spot where Roberts and the young Virginian rambled by moonlight, may be found in the rocks now called 'the Hardings.'
At sunrise on the following morning, the fourth of July, the Sea Gull was again under way. The day was fine, with a clear sky and a soft southern breeze. The schooner glided among the beautiful islands of the inner harbor, which were then filled with trees, and vocal with the songs of birds. It was not, as now, covered by vessels of every name and from every clime, but along its still waters the little galley with oars, the fisherman's skiff, and now and then the white pinions of some taller bark, were seen to move over its silence and solitude; neither did that halo of glory which now circles the birth-day of freedom kindle the patriot's ardor; nor did the stripes and stars wave on the green hills, nor the merry peal of bells go up with the rejoicings of a liberated nation; yet the elements of all this glory were there, and many a prophetic eye even then discerned its dawn upon the mystic horizon of the future.
As the vessel approached the town, the eye of Walter roamed in delight among the varied scenery which adorned the prospect. The islands with their forests, the bay, the blue mountains on the left, were reposing in the beauty of the morning, and the youthful fancy of Strale threw around them a thousand visions of future bliss. On the west the tower of Harvard Hall rose in the distance, shadowing forth that eminence and literary fame, which have since adorned that noble institution. In a few moments, the town with its white edifices, the spires of its churches, its trees and gardens, which had for some time appeared in beautiful outline, were displayed in distinct groups and figures; and Walter, who had till then seen only a few scattered habitations, gazed with intense gratification on the miniature city, as it stretched its little outposts, its convenient and spacious wharf, its thirty sail of merchantmen and coasters, and its eight hundred buildings, with all the attractions of novelty on his eye.
The beauty of the day, the mild breathings of summer, and the carol of innumerable birds, were but the emblems of that sublimer glory, which in after times rested on the birth-day of freedom. The fathers of those times sleep in the dust. The sons, too, are silent as the fathers; but on the ears of the third generation the hymn of liberty poured its strains of gladness, and the name of Washington was borne on every breeze and enshrined in every patriot's heart. That name will be revered as long as Virtue herself shall be loved and honored; and in any future struggle for liberty, his grateful country will interweave with every fold of her star spangled banner, the beautiful motto:
'He led the fathers and inspires the sons.'