CHAPTER XXXI.

SOON were the sorrows of Lefevre, on leaving Montreal, subdued by the animating recollection, that he was going home. Soon did he arrive at Quebec; and without pausing to see the falls of Montmorenci, or other wonders of the new world, he hastened on board the vessel, that was to convey him to the haven of his country.

The anchor was weighed; the sails were unfurled; and the freshening gales pressed heavily upon them. Now they cleared the shipping in the river; now the glistening heights of Quebec were lost. Rapidly did the vessel plough up her path over the gulph of St. Lawrence; and quickly was she riding in majesty, on the swelling, tumultuous waters of the great Atlantic Ocean!

Lefevre was a most joyful witness of this scene. He would have enjoyed a fine

sail on the boundless deep, for its own sublimity; but his enjoyment was improved many degrees, at this time, by the conviction, that every fathom the noble vessel cleared, brought nearer the realization of his highest wishes. Often be looked at her foaming sides, with eyes beaming with hopeful pleasure; and then, with ecstacy he would exclaim-"Faster, faster, faster!"

Yet there was a demand on his patience. He had the prospect of making a very quick passage; but still time, and considerable time, was necessary for its accomplishment. This Lefevre knew; and, to compose his mind, and occupy some weeks, that would otherwise be most tedious to him, he determined to employ them, in drawing out a short account of the last eventful ten years of his life. In doing this, he proposed rather to register the faults of his character, than the incidents of his history; he wished to trace the influence of events upon him, rather than dwell on the events themselves. He sought to account for the variations of his mind, under certain circumstances; and, especi

ally, it was an object with him to mark most distinctly on this moral chart, the rocks, and shoals, and quicksands, on which he had nearly made shipwreck of faith, and a good conscience.

As Lefevre applied himself to this good work, he found it became most interesting and agreeable. Most of his days, excepting what parts were sacred to devotion, were given to it; and it itself was so truly beneficial to him, that it might well be denominated with those exercises, that are immediately paid to God. It improved his self-knowledge. It gave a palpable and durable existence and connexion to those impressions of his heart, which were engraven in indelible characters; but which, though indelible themselves, might, by the hand of forgetfulness, be separated from all those circumstances which rendered the remembrance of them advantageous. It confirmed his humility-awakened his circumspection-invigorated his purposesand exalted his soul in renewed acts of gratitude to his Deliverer! It is one of those employments of his life, for conduct

ing his thoughts to which, he will ever be thankful to Divine Providence.

Delightful as was this engagement to Lefevre, it did not withdraw his attention from the progress of the vessel. His night and morning question to the helmsman was "How many knots an hour?" and the reply always had its effect upon his feelings. As they neared to land he became uneasy, and could not settle to the use of his pen so freely. He spent much time on deck; and for hours he would sit on the cable, or hang over the forecastle, anxiously searching for land, where all was wide, illimitable water.

After he had, one afternoon, wearied his sight in this exercise without success, a voice from the rigging announced “Land.” Lefevre flew up the shrouds, and begging the glass, sought for the object. For a time, his eagerness prevented his discovering any thing; and when he did detect it, he feared it was a cloud-he had been before deceived by such an appearance. However, ere the day ended, all allowed it to be land; and the captain assured

them it was England! Lefevre gazed upon it while it was visible; and was seen at the prow of the vessel seeking for it again, in the mists of the ensuing morning.

What with the haziness of the weather, and what with the ship's taking an eastward direction to drop into the mouth of the Thames, to Lefevre's disappointment, the land became little more visible all that day.

The early light of the next day was, however, more favorable. The North Foreland lighthouse, and the cliffs that project on each side of it, were distinctly recognised, veiled in a frosty mist, through which the sun was shining, like a mother smiling in tears. These were objects familiar to Lefevre; his heart palpitated with joy. "My country! my country!" he cried, "Let me once more rest my weary feet on thy shores, and I will never again forsake thee! Other countries may yield richer fruits-boast a finer climate-claim a wider empire-or be tricked out with more of the blandishments of artificial existence-but with thee is found liberty of thought, do