so that he could see the breaking dawn. The
sky, deep blue above, faded and glowed towards the horizon into gold,
redder and more radiant below; and in the midst, fast becoming merged
in the increasing light, shone the planet Venus, in her pale, calm
brilliance.

There was repose and delight in dwelling on that fair morning sky, and
Louis lay dreamily gazing, while thoughts passed over his mind, more
defined and connected than pain and weakness had as yet permitted.
Since those hours in which he had roused his faculties to meet with
approaching death, he had been seldom awake to aught but the sensations
of the moment, and had only just become either strong enough, or
sufficiently at leisure for anything like reflection. As he watched
the eastern reddening, he could not but revert to the feelings with
which he had believed himself at the gate of the City that needs
neither sun nor moon to lighten it, and, for the first time, he
consciously realized that he was restored to this world of life.

The sensation was not unmixed. His youthful spirit bounded at the
prospect of returning vigour, his warm heart clung round those whom he
loved, and the perception of his numerous faults made him grateful for
a longer probation; but still he had a sense of having been at the
borders of the glorious Land, and thence turned back to a tedious,
doubtful pilgrimage.

There was much to occasion this state of mind. His life had been
without great troubles, but with many mortifications; he had never been
long satisfied with himself or his pursuits, his ardour had only been
the prelude to vexation and self-abasement, and in his station in the
world there was little incentive to exertion. He had a strong sense of
responsibility, with a temperament made up of tenderness, refinement,
and inertness, such as shrank from the career set before him. He had
seen just enough of political life to destroy any romance of
patriotism, and to make him regard it as little more than party spirit,
and dread the hardening and deadening process on the mind. He had a
dismal experience of his own philanthropy; and he had a conscience that
would not sit down satisfied with selfish ease, pleasure, or
intellectual pursuits. His smooth, bright, loving temper had made him
happy; but the past was all melancholy, neglect, and futile enterprise;
he had no attaching home--no future visions; and, on the outskirts of
manhood, he shrank back from the turmoil, the te