My brother he is in Elizium, / Perchance he is not drown'd: What thinke you, ſaylors?.

Alehouses were more frequented, drunkenness more general, tale-mongery and sedition, the vices of sedentary idleness, prevailed, while a fanatical gloom was spreading over the country.

This countrey ſwarmes with vile outragious men, That liue by rapine and by lawleſſe ſpoile, Fit ſouldiers for the wicked Tamburlaine.

The water shone pacifically; the sky, without a speck, was a benign immensity of unstained light; the very mist on the Essex marsh was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds.