harm's reach. But not only was
the place a harbor of safety, and a bower of ease, but for utility in
other things it was most admirable.

Barrington Isle is, in many respects, singularly adapted to careening,
refitting, refreshing, and other seamen's purposes. Not only has it good
water, and good anchorage, well sheltered from all winds by the high
land of Albemarle, but it is the least unproductive isle of the group.
Tortoises good for food, trees good for fuel, and long grass good for
bedding, abound here, and there are pretty natural walks, and several
landscapes to be seen. Indeed, though in its locality belonging to the
Enchanted group, Barrington Isle is so unlike most of its neighbors,
that it would hardly seem of kin to them.

"I once landed on its western side," says a sentimental voyager long
ago, "where it faces the black buttress of Albemarle. I walked beneath
groves of trees--not very lofty, and not palm trees, or orange trees, or
peach trees, to be sure--but, for all that, after long sea-faring, very
beautiful to walk under, even though they supplied no fruit. And here,
in calm spaces at the heads of glades, and on the shaded tops of slopes
commanding the most quiet scenery--what do you think I saw? Seats which
might have served Brahmins and presidents of peace societies. Fine old
ruins of what had once been symmetric lounges of stone and turf, they
bore every mark both of artificialness and age, and were, undoubtedly,
made by the Buccaneers. One had been a long sofa, with back and arms,
just such a sofa as the poet Gray might have loved to throw himself
upon, his Crebillon in hand.

"Though they sometimes tarried here for months at a time, and used the
spot for a storing-place for spare spars, sails, and casks; yet it is
highly improbable that the Buccaneers ever erected dwelling-houses upon
the isle. They never were here except their ships remained, and they
would most likely have slept on board. I mention this, because I cannot
avoid the thought, that it is hard to impute the construction of these
romantic seats to any other motive than one of pure peacefulness and
kindly fellowship with nature. That the Buccaneers perpetrated the
greatest outrages is very true--that some of them were mere cutthroats
is not to be denied; but we know that here and there among their host
was a Dampier, a Wafer, and a Cowley, and likewise other men, whose
worst reproach was their desperate fortunes--whom persecution, or