corn. The last and the richest month of summer had commenced, but the
harvest was not yet begun, and deep and golden showed the vegetation of
life, bedded among the dark verdure of the hedge-rows, and "the merrie
woods!" The evening was serene and lulled; at a distance arose the spires
and chimneys of the town, but no sound from the busy hum of men reached
the ear. Nothing perhaps gives a more entire idea of stillness than the
sight of those abodes where "noise dwelleth," but where you cannot now
hear even its murmurs. The stillness of a city is far more impressive
than that of Nature; for the mind instantly compares the present silence
with the wonted uproar. The harvest-moon rose slowly from a copse of
gloomy firs, and diffused its own unspeakable magic into the hush and
transparency of the night. As Walter walked slowly on, the sound of
voices from some rustic party going homeward, broke jocundly on the
silence, and when he paused for a moment at the stile, from which he
first caught a glimpse of Lester's house, he saw, winding along the green
hedgerow, some village pair, the "lover and the maid," who could meet
only at such hours, and to whom such hours were therefore especially
dear. It was altogether a scene of pure and true pastoral character, and
there was all around a semblance of tranquillity, of happiness, which
suits with the poetical and the scriptural paintings of a pastoral life;
and which perhaps, in a new and fertile country, may still find a
realization. From this scene, from these thoughts, the young loiterer
turned with a sigh towards the solitary house in which this night could
awaken none but the most anxious feelings, and that moon could beam only
on the most troubled hearts.

"Terra salutiferas herbas, eademque nocentes
Nutrit; et urticae proxima saepe rosa est."

He now walked more quickly on, as if stung by his reflections, and