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quietness and lonely thinking, which have accompanied me to maturer years.
In this Wilderness I found myself after a ten years' absence. Its stately fir trees were yet standing, with all their luxuriant company of underwood—the squirrel was there, and the melancholy cooings of the wood-pigeon—all was as I had left it—my heart softened at the sight—it seemed, as though my character had been suffering a change, since I forsook these shades.
My parents were both dead—I had no counsellor left, no experience of age to direct me, no sweet voice of reproof. The Lord had takenaway
