Getting, at length, tired of this solitary and unproductive life,
I started for England, with the resolution of placing my domestic
matters on a more comfortable footing. By a happy accident, at the
house of a literary friend in London, I became acquainted with one
to whose cultivated mind, devoted affections, and untiring energy of
character, I have been chiefly indebted for many happy hours, under
the most adverse circumstances, as well as for much of that hope
and firm reliance upon Providence which have enabled me to bear up
against overwhelming misfortunes. I need not here repeat what has
been already stated respecting the motives which induced us to
emigrate to Canada. I shall merely observe that when I left South
Africa it was with the intention of returning to that colony, where
I had a fine property, to which I was attached in no ordinary
degree, on account of the beauty of the scenery and delightful
climate. However, Mrs. Moodie, somehow or other, had imbibed an
invincible dislike to that colony, for some of the very reasons that
I liked it myself. The wild animals were her terror, and she fancied
that every wood and thicket was peopled with elephants, lions, and
tigers, and that it would be utterly impossible to take a walk
without treading on dangerous snakes in the grass. Unfortunately,
she had my own book on South Africa to quote triumphantly in
confirmation of her vague notions of danger; and, in my anxiety to
remove these exaggerated impressions, I would fain have retracted my
own statements of the hair-breadth escapes I had made, in conflicts
with wild animals, respecting which the slightest insinuation of
doubt from another party would have excited my utmost indignation.

In truth, before I became familiarised with such danger, I had
myself entertained similar notions, and my only wonder, in reading
such narratives before leaving my own country, was how the