Voyage of Hendrick Hudson.

Near a hundred years elapsed before that great thought acquired substance and form.  In the spring of 1609, the heroic but unfortunate Hudson, one of the brightest names in the history of English maritime adventure, but then in the employment of the Dutch East India Company, in a vessel of eighty tons, bearing the very astronomical name of the Half Moon, having been stopped by the ice in the Polar Sea, in the attempt to reach the East by the way of Nova Zembla, struck over to the coast of America in a high northern latitude.  He then stretched down southwardly to the entrance of Chesapeake Bay (of which he had gained a knowledge from the charts and descriptions of his friend, Captain Smith), thence returning to the north, entered Delaware Bay, standing out again to sea, arrived on the second of September in sight of the “high hills” of Neversink, pronouncing it “a good land to fall in with, and a pleasant land to see;” and, on the following morning, sending his boat before him to sound the way, passed Sandy Hook, and there came to anchor on the third of September, 1609; two hundred and forty-seven years ago next Wednesday.  What an event, my friends, in the history of American population, enterprise, commerce, intelligence, and power—­the dropping of that anchor at Sandy Hook!

Discoveryof the Hudson river.

Here he lingered a week, in friendly intercourse with the natives of New Jersey, while a boat’s company explored the waters up to Newark Bay.  And now the great question.  Shall he turn back, like Verazzano, or ascend the stream?  Hudson was of a race not prone to turn back, by sea or by land.  On the eleventh of September he raised the anchor of the Half Moon, passed through the Narrows, beholding on both sides “as beautiful a land as one can tread on;” and floated cautiously and slowly up the noble stream—­the first ship that ever rested on its bosom.  He passed the Palisades, nature’s dark basaltic Malakoff, forced the iron gateway of the Highlands, anchored, on the fourteenth, near West Point; swept onward and upward, the following day, by grassy meadows and tangled slopes, hereafter to be covered with smiling villages;—­by elevated banks and woody heights, the destined site of towns and cities—­of Newburg, Poughkeepsie, Catskill;—­on the evening of the fifteenth arrived opposite “the mountains which lie from the river side,” where he found “a very loving people and very old men;” and the day following sailed by the spot hereafter to be honored by his own illustrious name.  One more day wafts him up between Schodac and Castleton; and here he landed and passed a day with the natives,—­greeted with all sorts of barbarous hospitality,—­the land “the finest for cultivation he ever set foot on,” the natives so kind and gentle, that when they found he would not remain with them over night, and feared that he left them—­poor