As for Weston’s colony, this was the last of it. Some of the better of the pioneers went to Plymouth; others finally found their way back to England. They had landed under far better auspices than the Pilgrims. They were welcomed by fellow-countrymen, and sheltered throughout the winter. They commenced their settlement in the summer, when nature laughed, and the hill-sides were gay with flowers, and the air sweet with the songs of birds. They possessed a ship. They had been left competently provided in the wilderness. Yet they were no sooner _settled_ than they were _unsettled_. Bankrupt and starving, they sought safety in flight. This was the fate of a colony whose “main end was to fish,” which was founded on no higher law than the greed of gain. “‘Certainly the best works, and of greatest merit for the public,’ observed the childless Lord Bacon, with complacent self-love, ‘have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men.’ Weston’s company, after having boasted of their strength as far superior to Plymouth, which was enfeebled, they said, by the presence of women and children, yet owed their deliverance to the colony that had many women, children, and weak ones, with them.”[432] Thus it should seem that weakness is sometimes strength. Ethics are better buoys than numbers. Devout weakness is always stronger than self-complacent and impious strength. Justice and a helpful hand—these are the palladiums. “Too happy were men, if they understood There is no safety but in doing good.”[433] CHAPTER XVI. A CHECKERED RECORD. “Naught shall prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.” WORDSWORTH. A few weeks after the final abandonment of Wessagusset by Weston’s colonists, a fishing-smack dropped anchor off Plymouth. A boat was lowered, and in a trice an Englishman, in the guise of a blacksmith, was landed. He seemed anxious to learn the condition and prospects of Weston’s settlement, and was evidently ignorant of its untoward fate. On being informed of the conspiracy, massacre, and abandonment of the project, he seemed to be profoundly agitated. This stranger was Weston himself, once a prosperous London merchant, now alone in the wilderness, a ruined man. “A strange alteration there was in him to those who had known him in his former flourishing condition,” moralizes the old Plymouth governor; “so uncertain are the mutable things of this unstable world. And yet men set their hearts upon them, though they daily see the vanity thereof.”[434]