'O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Be Thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home.' The words had a strangely moving effect upon the people's emotions. Tears that had refused to flow on leaving Boston, now, with many, had their way. Doctor Canfield, seizing the opportunity presented by the quiet that followed the hymn, stepped forward, and in simple but beautiful language offered up a prayer of thanks for deliverance from the deep, and finally and earnestly commended all to the guidance and the mercy of God for the days to come. A little later, as great bars of scarlet were shooting up from the west, over the hill on which gaily flew the King's flag--for which we had willingly sacrificed so much--happy in the consciousness of having done right, strong in faith for the future, like our ancient ancestors the Pilgrim Fathers, with both songs and prayers on our lips, we stepped ashore. And from that day--the 30th of March, 1776--though we did not know it, a new nation began to be made, in the 'True North,' on Canadian soil. The Governor of Nova Scotia welcomed us heartily. The sudden and unexpected arrival of so many soldiers and Loyalists produced some difficulties, but everything possible was done to make us comfortable. For those of the Loyalists who had no means, both food and shelter were provided by the Government. With the assistance of Doctor Canfield, I was able to secure a temporary lodging for my mother and my sisters at a moderate rental. In this we proposed to remain until matters assumed a more settled shape, and we were enabled to resolve upon a course for the future. Fully two weeks were occupied before all the people were even fairly well provided for. Many had to be content with sheds, barns, and warehouses for homes. Good food was not always easily obtained. Many who had been accustomed only to finely carpeted halls, and to couches of down, were forced to occupy quarters where the floors were of rough planks, and the beds of straw. But there was no complaining. We resolutely determined to be happy; and we were happy. On the streets, in the quarters I visited, at the market, about the wharves, and on the ships, people moved care-free and light-hearted. Few spoke of the country we had left. There were many entertainments. The Governor, the army officers, the members of the council, and the more wealthy citizens opened their homes freely for our entertainment and comfort, and in a remarkably short time the memory of our sufferings and loss began to fade. To many, the old, happy days of colonial Boston came suddenly back again.