--ah, why? But that my firm courage and cheerful exertions
might shelter the dear mate, whom I chose in the spring of my life; though
the throbbings of my heart be replete with pain, though my hopes for the
future are chill, still while your dear head, my gentlest love, can repose
in peace on that heart, and while you derive from its fostering care,
comfort, and hope, my struggles shall not cease,--I will not call myself
altogether vanquished.

One fine February day, when the sun had reassumed some of its genial power,
I walked in the forest with my family. It was one of those lovely
winter-days which assert the capacity of nature to bestow beauty on
barrenness. The leafless trees spread their fibrous branches against the
pure sky; their intricate and pervious tracery resembled delicate sea-weed;
the deer were turning up the snow in search of the hidden grass; the white
was made intensely dazzling by the sun, and trunks of the trees, rendered
more conspicuous by the loss of preponderating foliage, gathered around
like the labyrinthine columns of a vast temple; it was impossible not to
receive pleasure from the sight of these things. Our children, freed from
the bondage of winter, bounded before us; pursuing the deer, or rousing the
pheasants and partridges from their coverts. Idris leant on my arm; her
sadness yielded to the present sense of pleasure. We met other families on
the Long Walk, enjoying like ourselves the return of the genial season. At
once, I seemed to awake; I cast off the clinging sloth of the past months;
earth assumed a new appearance, and my view of the future was suddenly made
clear. I exclaimed, "I have now found out the secret!"

"What secret?"

In answer to this question, I described our gloomy winter-life, our sordid
cares, our menial labours:--"This northern country," I said, "is no place
for our diminished race. When mankind were few, it was not here that they
battled with the powerful agents of nature, and were enabled to cover the
globe with offspring. We must seek some natural Paradise, some garden of
the earth, where our simple wants may be easily supplied, and the enjoyment
of a delicious climate compensate for the social pleasures we have lost. If
we survive this coming summer, I will not spend the ensuing winter in
England; neither I nor any of us."

I spoke without much heed, and the very conclusion of what I said brought
with it other thoughts. Should we, any of us, survive the comi