CHAPTER VIII.

Not by the sunshine, with its golden glow,
Nor the green earth, nor yet the laughing sky;
Nor the fairest flower-scents, as they come and go
In the soft air, like music wandering by;
-Oh! not by these, th' unfailing, are we taught
How time and sorrow on our frame has wrought,
But by the sadden'd eye, the darken'd brow,
Of kindred aspects, and the long dim gaze,

Which tells us we are changed-how changed from other days!

CONSTANCE reflected much on the character of her new friend; and felt more and more deeply the excellence, the piety, the touching cheerfulness of Mrs Grey. She saw her devoted attachment to her husband and her children; she felt how painful it would be to part from such a friend.

"I shall never again regret our coming to America, since I have gained here such a friend as you, Mrs Grey. Oh, what an example to me!"

"Call me Amy; all my friends who love me in the old country, call me Amy Grey; and to hear my name in your soft voice, is like being at home."

"The name and excellence of dear Amy Grey," said Constance, pressing her hand, "will be ever remembered by me. Wherever I may be, I shall love you as a sister and a friend. Never can I forget my happiness at meeting such a family in these dreary woods. Oh, what a change !— after being among the coarse, and the vulgar, and the savage -after days of fatigue and of anxiety-to find myself suddenly amongst people of gentle manners, and evidently of gentle blood-as hospitable as they are polished and interesting! But I must confess, I often wonder why you selected for your residence this country, so desolate for gentlemen, though profitable perhaps for farmers and labouring men."

"A very unexpected reverse in our affairs," replied Amy, "made it impossible, as we thought, to live at home; we

dreaded becoming a burden to our friends. The favourable accounts, I must say much exaggerated, which we heard of this country, induced us to seek for independence here. It was a severe trial—the anguish of it, I cannot express! We have found by experience that travellers see only superficially, while settlers, anxious to attract others to join them, frequently represent the advantages of these countries vastly beyond the reality. I had imagined, that in some respects we should have been more comfortable than we are; however, we are independent of our friends though not of labour; and I have the real happiness of possessing good children and the kindest husband. I have many blessings for which I am most grateful to Providence, and have every reason to place my whole trust in Him. It is remarkable, that from my birth till now— -and my life has had some variety—the hand of God has supported me in every change -every trial. Had we continued in prosperity, I might have forgotten to be humble-to be grateful.”

"I do not think that possible, dear Amy, for you are disposed to see good in everything, and to value it."

How

"I believe that to be a sure source of real happiness," returned Amy; "without that disposition, even our blessings would be but half enjoyed-perhaps despised. often, and how sadly do the prosperous tire of their comforts, and feel a distaste for all that their wealth can easily obtain !"

"Sadly indeed!" said Constance, heaving a deep sigh; "but I think that distaste arises much more from the love of change of variety-than from ingratitude, and we may be thankful if principle continues steady in defiance of it. But even those who are inclined to seek variety, may in time, it is to be hoped, enjoy the tranquil happiness of home.”

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They should spend a year in this country," replied Mrs Grey, who perceived that she had touched a painful chord ; they should live in solitude such as I have known here, and they will value home, and country, and friends; and their hearts will expand with revived affection. Hours have passed when I have had no creature with me but my little helpless children. The dread stillness of these woods, interrupted only by the stroke of the woodcutter's axe, or perhaps unbroken till my husband returned from his wearying labour only to take a short repose. There are no rural

sounds like those at home. There is but little song of birds here to thrill the heart. The harsh chirping of a robin, or the scream of the blue jay, only increased the sadness; and the absence of all society was the more marked to me by the visits of the Indians, who startled me when they interrupted my loneliness by tapping at my window to ask for meal, or perhaps unexpectedly walked into the house."

"What strength of mind you must have possessed, my dear Amy, to prevent your spirits from sinking!"

"Perhaps those who had no imperious duties, no important occupations, might feel their spirits sink; but there was here so much that must be done, that I was forced to exert myself, and I went plodding on without any leisure for my imagination to exercise itself,-happy if all was tolerably comfortable-my husband pleased-my children well."

"The complete alteration of all your pursuits and habits, must have been one of the most painful circumstances attending your new situation; how difficult at first to conform yourself to your new mode of life!"

"I think," replied Amy, "it seems more painful in looking back to it than I found it at the time. I sometimes wonder now how very little we felt the privations and the want of comforts to which we were exposed. But there was novelty; while both my courage and power of endurance were excited and supported by my anxiety that my husband should not. be cast down by apparent regret or unhappiness on my part. It has been very justly remarked that the first months of the life of a family settling in these remote solitudes have a charm thrown over them, which, alas! more intimate acquaintance is but too sure to dispel."

Constance again sighed.

"But I assure you," continued Amy Grey, "I consider our difficulties and hardships here as comparatively nothingthey supplied an additional opportunity of exerting myself for my dear husband. We have borne our privations together; and we have together enjoyed the gradual success of our labours, though frequently discouraged by losses and disappointments. Mr Grey and I have toiled at this place to make it what it is; and it is endeared to us as the work of our hands, and the abode that has sheltered us, where many happy and contented days have been spent."

While Amy Grey spoke, Constance, too much touched to

interrupt her, almost envied her the embarrassments which had produced such exertions-such sacrifices for her husband and children. And in reflecting on the strength of affection and of resolution which Amy Grey's character displayed, she felt her own mind invigorated by the example. She determined to endeavour to benefit by it, and to adapt herself to her new duties like Amy Grey, who, while intent on fulfilling them, still preserved the warmest affection for the friends she had loved in the old country, and a vivid recollection of the scenes she had known there.

As Constance recovered apace, the fresh air became her best restorative; she strolled with Mrs Grey in the inclosure near her house, where a walk, bounded by shrubs and paling, gave an appearance of comfort to the humble dwelling. While examining the flowers which decked the garden, she was surprised when Amy pointed to the humming-bird flitting about amongst them, looking beautiful in the sunbeams as it darted from flower to flower.

"Pretty little creature! I had not expected to see it so far to the north; but you seem to have here both plants and birds of opposite climates."

Many of those we loved best at home," said Amy, as she gathered some mignonette for her; "but not as fragrant, I think, as in our own country; and yet there is a pleasure in even seeing a plant here that I have known at home. The Canadian vine which we had there in our gardens, grows here in all the woods; and when the snow melts away, the ground is actually covered with the beautiful pure white flowers of the puccoon, and many other plants which deck your gardens in spring."

"How glad you must feel when, after the tedious winter, cheerful spring returns!"

"I can scarcely call it cheerful spring," said Amy, "for it is, I may almost say, but momentary. There is so short a space of time which can be considered as either spring or autumn in this country, that I love them, I believe, more than ever. Yet the thoughts of them make me sad, for they bring many tender recollections; all my childish delights are associated with them, and never, never to be forgotten. parents and friends who cherished my youth; the companion of my walks, who first led me to observe all that the fields and groves display to interest us; many a plan never exe

The

cuted ; many a little hope that animated my youthful mind; many a wise counsel overlooked in the days of heedless youth, come now painfully to my mind."

"I can well conceive those feelings, my dear friend, for even I have felt somewhat of them, though I have not suffered like you. Your autumn seems, however, less fleeting than your spring, and yet this grey and sombre weather that we now have, leaves a melancholy impression on the mind."

"There is a remark by Coleridge," replied Amy, "which is so truly what I feel that it often recurs to my thoughts. He says A feeling of sadness, a peculiar melancholy, is wont to take possession of me, alike in spring and autumn. But in spring it is the melancholy of hope-in autumn it is the melancholy of resignation.""

"But here," said Constance, "you have little space for the hope alluded to in that remark."

"The defect in our spring here, is that we have no time for hope. We burst from the cold of frost in which every thing is locked, into all the beauty of flowery plains, and trees covered with the brightest verdure; but we have scarcely felt the renewal of life and vegetation, before the heat becomes too violent, and its overpowering effects are so dreaded as to cause great anxiety to save the crops, and then comes all the bustle of watering and attending to them. It is an anxious time to those who have little besides their farm to depend on for the winter's sustenance."

"Your autumn must therefore be more agreeable than your spring," said Constance; "all hurry and suspense are over, and you can enjoy your success in tranquillity."

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Very true; it has been called the Indian summer; the soft grey sky and cool even temperature are so refreshing. The air, you perceive, has lost the sultry feel that it had when you came here, and you see autumn now in all its beauty; the woods have got their various tints, and the bright red leaves of the oak give them that glowing peculiar hue. This sort of

mild melancholy weather makes me feel that life, like the year, is declining, but will be succeeded by a happier one. All seasons may bring a blessing to those who are grateful, and disposed to make their own happiness wherever they may reside."

They just then sat down in a bower of Canadian vine;