no heed to his
words, but did continue to talk lovingly together as before; whereupon
he waxed exceeding wroth, and would have laid hands upon the man. But,
hearing a voice calling upon him to forbear, he did look about him, and
behold one, with a shining countenance, and clad in raiment so white
that it did dazzle his eyes to look upon it, stood before him. And the
shape said, "Dost thou well to be angry?" Then said the magistrate,
"Yonder is a Quaker with his hat on talking to a godly minister."
"Nay," quoth the shape, "thou seest but after the manner of the world
and with the eyes of flesh. Look yonder, and tell me what thou seest."
So he looked again, and lo! two men in shining raiment, like him who
talked with him, sat under the tree. "Tell me," said the shape, "if thou
canst, which of the twain is the Quaker and which is the Priest?" And
when he could not, but stood in amazement confessing he did see neither
of them, the shape said, "Thou sayest well, for here be neither Priest
nor Quaker, Jew nor Gentile, but all are one in the Lord." Then he
awoke, and pondered long upon his dream, and when it was morning he went
straightway to the jail, and ordered the man to be set free, and hath
ever since carried himself lovingly towards the Quakers.

My brother's lines have indeed fallen unto him in a pleasant, place.
His house is on a warm slope of a hill, looking to the southeast, with a
great wood of oaks and walnuts behind it, and before it many acres of
open land, where formerly the Indians did plant their corn, much of
which is now ploughed and seeded. From the top of the hill one can see
the waters of the great Bay; at the foot of it runs a small river
noisily over the rocks, making a continual murmur. Going thither this
morning, I found a great rock hanging over the water, on which I sat
down, listening to the noise of the stream and the merriment of the
birds in the trees, and admiring the green banks, which were besprinkled
with white and yellow flowers. I call to mind that sweet fancy of the
lamented Anne Broadstreet, the wife of the new Governor of
Massachusetts, in a little piece which she nameth "Contemplations,"
being written on the banks of a stream, like unto the one whereby I was
then sitting, in which the writer first describeth the beauties of the
wood, and the flowing water, with the bright fishes therein, and then
the songs of birds in the boughs over her head, in this sweet and
pleasing vers