her out to sea; and thus the
unfortunate lovers were left to their fate. This event happened late
in autumn. The winter passed without any word being heard of the
lovers; in the ensuing spring their bodies were found clasped in each
other's arms, and the young man's gun close by with fifteen notches
cut in the stock, supposed to mark the number of days they suffered
ere relieved by death.

CHAPTER XII.

VOYAGE TO ENGLAND--ARRIVAL AT PLYMOUTH--REFLECTIONS--ARRIVE AT
THE PLACE OF MY NATIVITY--CHANGES--DEPOPULATION--LONDON--THE
THAMES--LIVERPOOL--EMBARK FOR NEW YORK--ARRIVAL--THE
AMERICANS--ENGLISH AND AMERICAN TOURISTS--ENGLAND AND
AMERICA--NEW YORK.

1842.--I embarked for England on the 18th of August, on board a small
schooner of sixty tons, deeply laden with fish and oil. It is scarcely
necessary to observe, that the accommodations the craft afforded
were of the meanest kind; but the inconveniences weighed lightly in
the scales, when compared with the anticipated delight of visiting
one's native land. We had a very fine passage; a steady fair breeze
carried us across the broad Atlantic in a fortnight. The green hills
of Cornwall came in view on the 1st of September, and I had the
satisfaction of treading the soil of England early on the 3d.

I remained a few days at Plymouth, to feast my eyes on scenery such as
I had long been a stranger to;--scenery, I may say, unrivalled by any
I had ever beheld at home or abroad. What spot in the world, in fact,
can present such varied charms, as the summit of Mount Edgecumb? where
the most refined taste, aided by the amplest means, has been employed
for a thousand years in beautifying the glorious landscape. To me,
just arrived from _Ungava_, the beauties of the scene were undoubtedly
heightened by the contrast; and one short visit to Mount Edgecumb
effaced from my mind the dreary prospect of bleak rocks, snow banks,
and icebergs, with which it had been so long and so sadly familiar,
and inspired it with a rapture and delight to which it had long been
a stranger. Yet this terrestrial paradise, I am informed, belongs to
a noble lord, who is a miserable invalid. Alas, for poor humanity!
neither wealth nor grandeur preserve their possessors from the ills
that flesh is heir to: and this nobleman may, perhaps, envy the lot of
the humblest individual that visits his enchanting domain.

Bidding adieu to Plymouth, and its delightful environs, I set out
f