our ancestors, nearly two centuries since, when, after a tedious voyage of seventy days, they approached the harbor of Salem. "There came forth to us, into our ship," said Governor Winthrop, "a wild pigeon and another small land-bird, likewise a smell from the shore, like unto the smell of a garden." The young voyagers crumbled their stale bread to lure these aerial visitants, watching with exclamations of joy the irized hues of the pigeon's glossy neck, as it turned its head from side to side, timidly regarding them. When long confined to the sight of sea and wave, any vestige of land is most cheering. How must Columbus and his disheartened people have hailed the floating weeds, which assured them that the world of their vision was indeed one of reality. Such heralds can never be correctly estimated by those who dwell quietly at home; but on the tossing deep we realize the truth of the words of the poet;—
"The floating weeds and birds that meet
The wanderers back at sea,
And tell that fresh and new and sweet
A world is on their lea,
Are like the hints of that high clime,
Toward which we steer o'er waves of time."
