preceded that of Plymouth, the various adventurers from the
ancient world had exhibited upon innumerable occasions that
ardor of enterprise and that stubbornness of pursuit which set
all danger at defiance, and chained the violence of nature at
their feet. But they were all instigated by personal interests.
Avarice and ambition had tuned their souls to that pitch of
exaltation. Selfish passions were the parents of their heroism.
It was reserved for the first settlers of new England to perform
achievements equally arduous, to trample down obstructions
equally formidable, to dispel dangers equally terrific, under the
single inspiration of conscience. To them even liberty herself
was but a subordinate and secondary consideration. They
claimed exemption from the mandates of human authority, as
militating with their subjection to a superior power. Before the
voice of Heaven they silenced even the calls of their country.

Yet, while so deeply impressed with the sense of religious
obligation, they felt, in all its energy, the force of that tender tie
which binds the heart of every virtuous man to his native land.
It was to renew that connection with their country which had
been severed by their compulsory expatriation, that they
resolved to face all the hazards of a perilous navigation and all
the labors of a toilsome distant settlement. Under the mild
protection of the Batavian Government, they enjoyed already
that freedom of religious worship, for which they had resigned
so many comforts and enjoyments at home; but their hearts
panted for a restoration to the bosom of their country. Invited
and urged by the open-hearted and truly benevolent people
who had given them an asylum from the persecution of their
own kindred to form their settlement within the territories then