« AnteriorContinuar »
AUTHOR OF “RICHELIEU," « PHILIP AUGUSTUS," &c.'
NEW-YORK: - : ;
NO. 82 CLIPESTREET.
I OPENED my eyes to the light of day on the shores of that part of the British Channel where the narrow seas which interpose between France and England first show an inclination to spread out into the Atlantic Ocean.
My father's house-Oh, what a multitude of thrilling memories, of early years, and happy dreams, and gall-less pleasures, rise up at the very name, mingling with the forms of the loved and the dead, and the tones of sweet voices that are heard no more-My father's house was raised upon the summit of one of those high cliffs which guard the coast of Devonshire; and, sweeping round within view of the windows, was a small beautiful bay, not a league and a half in diameter, within which the blue waters of the sea collected deep and still, as if for the purpose of repose. Bold high rocks, of a similar character to that on which our dwelling was perched, flanked the bay to the east; and on the west à long range of sandy shores extended towards the Atlantic, sloping gradually up into green fertile hills, whose high tops, covered with rich woods of oak and beach, sheltered the calm expanse velow from the wild gales that race across the wide ocean beyond. In some places those woods would sweep down the sides of the hills till they almost dipped their branches in the sea; and, following the bend of the bay, at a greater or less distance from the shore, during more than one-half of its extent, they reached uns