Improvement was for a time necessarily gradual. Religion, the only motive which could have induced such sacrifices as were made in its cause, was first established; and civil order, and the means of education, were deemed next important by the wise and virtuous founders of our republic. The necessaries and comforts of life were secured before they had leisure to think of its embellishments. Necessity produced a frugal and industrious spirit, and the wealthiest encouraged by their example the economy and self-denial of the lower orders. Artisans and mechanics soon found ample employment, and various manufactures were ingeniously contrived to supply the ordinary wants of the colony. The natural products of the soil gradually yielded a superfluity, which was exported to the West Indian and other islands;—the commencement of that extensive traffic, which has since raised Boston to a high rank among the commercial cities of the world. It was also sent in exchange for the commodities of the mother country, who, indulgent to her children while too feeble to dispute her authority, then generously remitted those duties which afterwards proved a "root of bitterness" between them. The fisheries, also, were even then an object of consideration; and many found employment in that craft, which has now become a source of national wealth. Vessels of considerable burthen were launched from the shores of the wilderness, and their light keels already parted the waters of distant seas. Nations which then viewed our hardy navigators with contempt, have since seen their white sails flutter in the winds of every climate, and their adventurous ships braving the dangers of every rugged shore. The proudest have acknowledged their rights in each commercial port, and the bravest have struck unwillingly to their victorious flag.
The advancement which the colony had made within fourteen years from its settlement, was indeed surprising. The germ of future prosperity seemed bursting from its integuments. The principles of a free government were established; the seed which was "sown in tears," though it appeared "the least of all seeds," was preparing to shoot forth and spread its branches into a mighty tree. As yet, however, the future was "hid under a cloud;" and what had already been done, could only be justly appreciated by those who acted and suffered from the commencement. But the fruits of their labor were evident, even to the most indifferent observer; and Stanhope's thoughts were forcibly drawn from the subject of his own anxiety, and fixed on the scene before him.
The scene, glorious as it appeared in the simple garniture of nature, and softened by the adornments of art, charmed the eye and awakened the enthusiasm of a refined and imaginative mind. But the high moral courage, the stern yet lofty impulse of duty, which had achieved so great an enterprize; which had burst the strong links of kindred and country, and exchanged honor and affluence for reproach and poverty, and the countless trials of a wilderness, appealed directly to the best feelings of the heart. Arthur was reminded by all around him, of this noble triumph of mind and principle over the greatest physical obstacles; and he strongly felt the contrast which it presented to the habits and opinions of the Acadian settlers, with whom he had been lately associated. The bitter enmity of La Tour and D'Aulney, the struggle for pre-eminence, which kept them continually at strife, had deadened every social affection and aroused the most fierce and selfish passions. They had attempted to colonize a portion of the New World, from interested and ambitious motives; their followers were in general actuated by a hope of gain, or the mere spirit of adventure, which characterized that age; and, if religion was at all considered, it was only from motives of policy. The purity and disinterestedness of the New-England fathers was more striking from the comparison; and, as Stanhope mused on them, he wondered that the light sacrifices he had himself been compelled to make, could ever have appeared so important. His country, his profession, his hopes of honorable advancement, were indeed abandoned; but dearer hopes had succeeded the dreams of ambition; and what country would not become a paradise, when brightened by the smiles of affection!
His reverie, by a very lover-like process, had thus revolved back to the point where it commenced, when he was reminded of the lapse of time, by the sound of a bell, which floated sweetly on the still air, and announced the stated hour for the second services of the day. He was slowly turning to obey its summons, when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a vessel; and he again paused in curiosity and suspense. It was a pinnace of large size, and sailed slowly over the smooth waters, frequently tacking to catch the light breeze, which scarcely swelled the canvass. The waves curled, as if in sport, around the prow, leaving a sinuous track behind, as it came up through the channel, north of Castle Island, like a solitary bird, skimming the surface of the deep, and spreading its snowy wings towards some region of rest. As it entered the spacious harbor, the gay streamer, which hung idly from the mainmast, was raised by a passing breeze, displaying the colors of France, united with the private arms of Mons. d'Aulney.
The vessel soon attracted general observation, but the sanctity of the day prevented any open expression of curiosity or surprise. It was permitted to anchor, unmolested by the formidable battery on the eastern hill; the bell continued to ring for public worship, and the citizens to assemble as usual. But, situated as the colonists then were, with regard to Acadia, the arrival of a vessel from thence, was a matter of some importance. Certain negociations had already taken place between the magistrates of Boston and M. d'Aulney, and the latter had proposed sending commissioners to arrange a treaty. The magistrates, rightly conjecturing that they had at length arrived, sent two officers to receive them at the water's side, and conduct them quietly to an inn. Wishing, however, to treat them with suitable respect, when the services of the day were over, a guard of musketeers was despatched to escort them to the governor's house, where they were invited to remain, during their stay in town.
A treaty was commenced on the following day; and, throughout its progress, the utmost ceremony and attention was observed towards the commissioners, which policy or politeness could suggest. Mutual aggressions were complained of, and mutual concessions made; and though D'Aulney had, in truth, been hitherto faithless to his promises, the Bostonians evidently feared his growing power, and strongly inclined to conciliatory measures. Under these circumstances, an amnesty was, without much difficulty, concluded; and the commissioners soon after returned, well satisfied, to Penobscot.
This treaty, for a time, seemed almost fatal to the prospects of La Tour. It restrained the colonists from rendering him any further assistance; and there was every probability that D'Aulney would at length effect his long meditated designs against fort St. John's. Stanhope felt much anxiety respecting Luciè's situation; but as winter was now rapidly approaching, it was hardly possible that any hostile operations would be commenced, before the return of spring. That period, he trusted, would fulfil the hopes which she had sanctioned, and place her under his own protection; and, through the autumn, he had the satisfaction of hearing frequently from her, by means of the vessels which continued to trade at the river, with La Tour. With extreme surprise, he learned that she had discovered her father, in the mysterious priest; and, strange as the connection seemed, he felt a satisfaction, in knowing that she could claim a natural guardian, till he was permitted to remove her from a situation, which was so constantly exposed to danger.