XVIII.]
NEWPORT.
349
horizon, which is so familiar to the eye and so mysterious to the heart, caressed by the gentle breeze which makes all but simple, social, delightful now and here seem unreal and untasteful—the sweet fruit of the lotus grows more than ever succulent and magical. How sensible they ought to be, the denizens of these pleasant places, of their peculiar felicity and distinction! How it should purify their temper and refine their tastes! How delicate, how wise, how discriminating they should become! What excellent manners—what enlightened opinions—their situation should produce! How it should purge them of vulgarity! Happy villeggianti of Newport!
