and weariness, on my return home, at
the close of a day's work, that the thought struck me of consulting my
wife, your present mother, and I had a presentiment that through her I
should discover what I so long wished to know. She is, as you know, a
native of Libos, and I remembered having heard her say that there were
protestants residing in that town and neighbourhood.

When the supper was ended, and we were seated by the fire, each in our
chimney-corner, she took her work, and I began the conversation nearly
in the following words:

"Annette," said I, "have I not heard you say that there are many
protestants in Libos and the neighbourhood?"

"Yes, Bayssiere," she replied, "there are a great many, but they are
a good deal scattered about the country. They belong to the church of
Mont Flanquin, where their priest or minister resides."

"And do you know any of them? Have you ever spoken to them, or been at
their houses?"

"O yes, I was acquainted with many families; I knew Mr. ----, and
Mr. ----, &c. &c. (I suppress names.) I have been employed in their
houses, and seen them frequently."

"Well, then, can you tell me what sort of people they are, and what
their characters and habits?"

"O yes, I can assure you that they are the best set of people in the
world. They are esteemed, loved, and respected by every one: I never
heard any thing but good of those I knew, and they always appeared
to me to conduct themselves irreproachably."

[Illustration: PETER BAYSSIERE]

I continued to question your mother on the manner in which the
protestants brought up their children; how they treated their
servants, strangers, and the poor. I asked if domestic harmony
prevailed among them, and how they conducted themselves as parents and
children, brothers and sisters.

All her answers tended to convince me that pious protestants lived
under the influence of the word of God; and at each disclosure she
made, (though unconscious of the value I attached to it,) I said to
myself, "_This is_ the morality of the Gospel."

Satisfied on this point, I turned to another:

"How do the protestants spend their Sabbaths and festivals," I asked,
"separated as they are from each other and their church? Do they ever
assemble for prayer, or do they live without worship?"

"O, no! they don't live without worship; they have their divine
services; they are at too great a distance from their minister and
each other to meet every Sunday, but they