Main, and the exhilarating idea of a constant int change of sentiment with those who may deem worthy of their correspondence, this feeble spir devoid of every other support, would, I fear, so sink beneath the burden of its sad reflections, You had frequently endeavoured to persua me, that, in the first moments of keen afflictio it is useless to contend with the overwhelming so rows of the heart; but the justness of this remar I was, as you may recollect, always unwilling t admit. Now, however, I am satisfied, from painfu experience, that, in such cases, we vainly loo around us for sensible objects, which, though no sufficiently potent to eradicate our sorrows, may serve at least to divert them;-that man, of himself is more eminently "a creature of circumstances,' than the wisest or the humblest of us is willing to allow ;-that human nature is rightly said, on the highest possible authority, to inherit the property of looking too much at "the things which are seen," at those objects which urgently force themselves on the immediate attention of our spirits;—and that consequently, the more elevating and important considerations, of whose benign and salutary impressions we are at other times susceptible, are frequently, on these more trying occasions, either totally forgotten, or allowed to exert their influence without effect. While enveloped in this mental gloom, we lose our relish for the captivating scenery of nature, which, in its almost infinite variety of forms, is calculated to inspire delight: But her charms in vain present themselves to one, whose heart is ill at ease, and who is either lingering with mixed sensations of complacency and regret on the past, or is yielding the reins to his imagination in excursive anticipations respecting the future. These keen emotions have taught me, that if the first ebullitions of sorrow receive no sudden check, but are permitted to expend their rage, they will, like the troubled waves of the ocean after a violent storm, gradually subside, and imperceptibly qualify us for resuming our former placidity, without losing the more soothing portion of our regrets. 66 Sensible, however, that "while the mind contemplates its own distress, it is acted upon and never acts, and that, by indulging in this contem"plation, it only becomes more unfit for action," -I shake off the lethargy that already begins to steal upon my faculties. Lamenting no longer what is remediless, I will not seem desirous of exciting your sympathy by further sorrowful allusions to events now beyond human control; but will proceed to the fulfilment of my parting promise, and have only to request that you will kindly Accept whate'er Æneas can afford. After bidding you perhaps an eternal adieu, on the morning of the 4th instant, I passed through the most romantic country imaginable; but, not withstanding the beauty and magnificence of the diversified landscapes, studded with beautiful seats and elegant villas, which continually came within my view, I sauntered along without deriving even a momentary gratification from the scene. I beheld all, perhaps too much in the spirit of a convict, (though devoid of the guilty portion of his corroding feelings,) who is doomed to perpetual exile, and who, while sailing to a foreign land, looks with a stupid indifference upon the shores of his native country, as they recede from his sight in majestio pride, and with unpitying rapidity. I reflected that, in all human probability, I had beheld for the last time the "scenes of my childhood;" and the very thought of quitting my native land for a foreign soil, sickened pleasure in a manner which baffles expression. I said within myself, and my looks must have conveyed my sentiments to all around: "Sublime "and picturesque assemblages, adieu! The contem"plation of the enchanting scenery and superb "erections which you present, would formerly have "afforded me unmixed satisfaction; but your proud"est displays now serve only to add poignancy to 66 grief, and to aggravate those wounds which are "still rankling under recent inflictions. Never more "will you produce a pleasing sensation in my mind, "which will not be embittered with sleepless regret, "which will not be mingled with the gloom of "retrospection, and the sigh of patriotism." Perhaps you will call me an enthusiast; but you know, That when, by adversity frequent and deep, The bosom is sentenc'd to bleed; We feel a sad pleasure, all lonely to weep, When we came to Cove, we found, that the vessel which was appointed to convey us to America, had not arrived. We were therefore compelled to take lodgings, which, fortunately, we procured at a moderate price, and in an agreeable part of the town, from which we had an extensive view of the harbour and its various fortifications. In this place we remained upwards of a month, before we heard of the arrival of the BRUNSWICK. She is a very fine ship, and elegantly fitted up for our accommodation. Her cabin-apartments consist of a large dining-room; two state-rooms, in each of which are births for four persons; and two ample bed-chambers, with births for nearly twenty persons. The steerage contains about forty births, each of which is capable of accommodating six men, or a proportionate number of women and children. The BRUNSWICK is of 541 tons burden, and commanded by Captain Blake, an Englishman and an officer of great experience. She has on board 150 tons of ballast, 150 tons of ordnancestores for the garrison of Quebec, and three months' provisions for my father's settlers. These provi sions are to be issued, only in the event of their ow being exhausted by a tedious voyage, or throug any other fortuitous occurrence. The cabin was intended solely for the reception of my father and his family; but as there ar three other families of respectability to accompany us,-those of Mr. Geary, Mr. Hardy, and Mr Burton, we have allowed them to partake of the accommodations which it affords. 1 Yesterday morning the settlers embarked; and, about eight o'clock in the evening, the captain despatched a boat for the cabin-passengers, the ship having previously dropped down the river. While the boat approached towards the shore, we stood on the quay, twenty-four in number; and never surely did ghastly countenances and downcast eyes better portray the feelings of the heart, than did those which we exhibited when the sailors called aloud for "the state passengers of the BRUNSWICK!” It was a fine calm evening; and the sun,-as if unwilling to witness our grief, or to expose us to the full gaze of impertinent curiosity,-had just retired below the Western horizon. After handing the ladies and children into the boat, I stood for a few moments on the shore; and, looking up towards heaven, implored its Eternal King to pour down his choicest blessings on the care-worn inhabitants of my native isle. "May dire necessity never more constrain a son "of Erin to abandon her emerald shores !," was the |