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UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE SOCIETY FORTHE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL INFORMATION

THE LIBRARYOFENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE

BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 

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THE LIBRARY OF ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE

THE

BACKWOODS OF CANADA

BEING

LETTERS FROM THE WIFE OF AN

EMIGRANT OFFICER, ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE DOMESTIC ECONOMY OF BRITISH AMERICA. 

[Catharine Parr Traill]

LONDON:CHARLES KNIGHT, 22, LUDGATE STREET. 

MDCCCXXXVI. 

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LONDON:PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, 14, CHARING CROSS. 

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CONTENTS. 

INTRODUCTION

LETTER I. --Departure from Greenock in the Brig _Laurel_. --Fitting up ofthe Vessel. --Boy Passenger. --Sea Prospect. --Want of Occupation andAmusement. --Captain's Goldfinch

LETTER II. --Arrival off Newfoundland. --Singing of the Captain'sGoldfinch previous to discovery of Land. --Gulf of St. Laurence. --Sceneryof the River St. Laurence. --Difficult navigation of the River. --FrenchFisherman engaged as Pilot. --Isle of Bic. --Green Island. --Regular Pilotengaged. --Scenery of Green Island. --Gros Isle. --Quarantine Regulations. --Emigrants on Gros Isle. --Arrival off Quebec. --Prospect of the City andEnvirons

LETTER III. --Departure from Quebec. --Towed by a Steam-vessel. --Fertilityof the Country. --Different Objects seen in sailing up the River. --Arrivaloff Montreal. --The Rapids

LETTER IV. --Landing at Montreal. --Appearance of the Town. --Ravages ofthe Cholera. --Charitable Institutions in Montreal. --Conversation at theHotel. --Writer attacked with the Cholera. --Departure from Montreal in aStage-coach. --Embark at Lachine on board a Steam-vessel. Mode oftravelling alternately in Steam-vessels and Stages. --Appearance of theCountry. --Manufactures. --Ovens at a distance from the Cottages. --Draw-wells. --Arrival at Cornwall. --Accommodation at the Inn. --Departure fromCornwall, and Arrival at Prescott. --Arrival at Brockville. --Ship-launchthere. --Voyage through Lake Ontario. --Arrival at Cobourg

LETTER V. --Journey from Cobourg to Amherst. --Difficulties to beencountered on first settling in the Backwoods. --Appearance of theCountry. --Rice Lake. --Indian Habits. --Voyage up the Otanabee. --Log-house, and its Inmates. --Passage boat. --Journey on foot to Peterborough

LETTER VI. --Peterborough. --Manners and Language of the Americans. --Scotch Engineman. --Description of Peterborough and its Environs. --Canadian Flowers. --Shanties. --Hardships suffered by first Settlers. --Process of establishing a Farm

LETTER VII. --Journey from Peterborough. --Canadian Woods. --Waggon andTeam. --Arrival at a Log-house on the Banks of a Lake. --Settlement, andfirst Occupations

LETTER VIII. --Inconveniences of first Settlement. --Difficulty ofobtaining Provisions and other necessaries. --Snow-storm and Hurricane. --Indian Summer, and setting-in of Winter. --Process of clearing the Land

LETTER IX. --Loss of a yoke of Oxen. --Construction of a Log-house. --Glaziers' and Carpenters' work. --Description of a new Log-house. --WildFruits of the Country. --Walks on the Ice. --Situation of the House. --Lakeand surrounding Scenery

LETTER X. --Variations in the Temperature of the Weather. --ElectricalPhenomenon. --Canadian Winter. --Country deficient in PoeticalAssociations. --Sugar-making. --Fishing season. --Mode of Fishing. --Duck-shooting. --Family of Indians. --_Papouses_ and their Cradle-cases. --Indian Manufactures. --Frogs

LETTER XI. --Emigrants suitable for Canada. --Qualities requisite toensure Success. --Investment of Capital. --Useful Articles to be broughtout. --Qualifications and Occupations of a Settler's Family. --Deficiencyof Patience and Energy in some Females. --Management of the Dairy. --Cheese. --Indian Corn, and its Cultivation. --Potatoes. --Rates of Wages

LETTER XII. --"A Logging Bee. "--Burning of the Log-heaps. --Crops for theSeason. --Farming Stock. --Comparative Value of Wheat and Labour. --Choiceof Land, and relative Advantages. --Clearing Land. --Hurricane in theWoods. --Variable Weather. --Insects

LETTER XIII. --Health enjoyed in the rigour of Winter. --Inconveniencesuffered from the brightness of the Snow. --Sleighing. --IndianOrthography. --Visit to an Indian Encampment. --Story of an Indian. --AnIndian Hunchback. --Canadian Ornithology

LETTER XIV. --Utility of Botanical Knowledge. --The Fire-Weed. --Sarsaparilla Plants. --Magnificent Water Lily. --Rice Beds. --IndianStrawberry. --Scarlet Columbine. --Ferns. --Grasses

LETTER XV. --Recapitulation of various Topics. --Progress of Settlement. --Canada, the Land of Hope. --Visit to the Family of a Naval Officer. --Squirrels. --Visit to, and Story of, an Emigrant Clergyman. --His earlyDifficulties. --The Temper, Disposition, and Habits of Emigrantsessential Ingredients in Failure or Success

LETTER XVI. --Indian Hunters. --Sail in a Canoe. --Want of Libraries in theBackwoods. --New Village. --Progress of Improvement. --Fire flies

LETTER XVII. --Ague. --Illness of the Family. --Probable Cause. --Root-house. --Setting-in of Winter. --Insect termed a "Sawyer. "--TemporaryChurch

LETTER XVIII. --Busy Spring. --Increase of Society and Comfort. --Recollections of Home. --Aurora Borealis

APPENDIX

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ILLUSTRATIONS. 1. Falls of Montmorenci2. Rice Grounds3. Sleigh-driving4. Silver Pine5. Spruce6. Log-house7. Log-village. --Arrival of Stage-coach8. Road through a Pine Forest9. Newly-cleared Land10. Chart showing the Interior Navigation of the Districts of Newcastleand Upper Canada11. Papouses12. Green Frogs13. Bull-frog14. The Prairie15. Red-bird16. Blue-bird17. Snow-Bunting18. Baltimore Oriole defending her Nest against the Black Snake19. Red Squirrels20. Flying Squirrel

INTRODUCTION

AMONG the numerous works on Canada that have been published within thelast ten years, with emigration for their leading theme, there are few, if any, that give information regarding the domestic economy of asettler's life, sufficiently minute to prove a faithful guide to theperson on whose responsibility the whole comfort of a family depends--the mistress, whose department it is "to haud the house in order. "

Dr. Dunlop, it is true, has published a witty and spirited pamphlet, "The Backwoodsman, " but it does not enter into the routine of feminineduties and employment, in a state of emigration. Indeed, a woman's penalone can describe half that is requisite to be told of the internalmanagement of a domicile in the backwoods, in order to enable theoutcoming female emigrant to form a proper judgment of the trials andarduous duties she has to encounter. 

"Forewarned, forearmed, " is a maxim of our forefathers, containing muchmatter in its pithy brevity; and, following its spirit, the writer ofthe following pages has endeavoured to afford every possible informationto the wives and daughters of emigrants of the higher class whocontemplate seeking a home amid our Canadian wilds. [Illustration:Peter, the Chief] Truth has been conscientiously her object in the work, for it were cruel to write in flattering terms calculated to deceiveemigrants into the belief that the land to which they are transferringtheir families, their capital, and their hopes, a land flowing with milkand honey, where comforts and affluence may be obtained with littleexertion. She prefers honestly representing facts in their real and truelight, that the female part of the emigrant's family may be enabled tolook them firmly in the face; to find a remedy in female ingenuity andexpediency for some difficulties; and, by being properly prepared, encounter the rest with that high-spirited cheerfulness of which well-educated females often give extraordinary proofs. She likewise wishes toteach them to discard every thing exclusively pertaining to theartificial refinement of fashionable life in England; and to point outthat, by devoting the money consumed in these incumbrances to articlesof real use, which cannot be readily obtained in Canada, they may enjoythe pleasure of superintending a pleasant, well-ordered home. She isdesirous of giving them the advantage of her three years' experience, that they may properly apply every part of their time, and learn toconsider that every pound or pound's worth belonging to any member of anout-coming emigrant's family, ought to be sacredly considered as_capital_, which must make proper returns either as the means ofbringing increase in the shape of income, or, what is still better, inhealthful domestic comfort. 

These exhalations in behalf of utility in preference to artificialpersonal refinement, are not so needless as the English public mayconsider. The emigrants to British America are no longer of the rank oflife that formerly left the shores of the British Isles. It is not onlythe poor husbandmen and artisans, that move in vast bodies to the west, but it is the enterprising English capitalist, and the once affluentlandholder, alarmed at the difficulties of establishing numerousfamilies in independence, in a country where every profession isoverstocked, that join the bands that Great Britain is pouring forthinto these colonies! Of what vital importance is it that the femalemembers of these most valuable colonists should obtain properinformation regarding the important duties they are undertaking; thatthey should learn beforehand to brace their minds to the task, and thusavoid the repinings and discontent that is apt to follow unfoundedexpectations and fallacious hopes!

It is a fact not universally known to the public, that British officersand their families are usually denizens of the backwoods; and as greatnumbers of unattached officers of every rank have accepted grants ofland in Canada, they are the pioneers of civilization in the wilderness, and their families, often of delicate nurture and honourable descent, are at once plunged into all the hardships attendant on the rough lifeof a bush-settler. The laws that regulate the grants of lands, whichenforce a certain time of residence, and certain settlement duties to beperformed, allow no claims to absentees when once the land is drawn. These laws wisely force a superiorly-educated man with resources of bothproperty and intellect, to devote all his energies to a certain spot ofuncleared land. It may easily be supposed that no persons wouldencounter these hardships who have not a young family to establish inthe healthful ways of independence. This family renders the residence ofsuch a head still more valuable to the colony; and the half-pay officer, by thus leading the advanced guard of civilization, and bringing intothese rough districts gentle and well-educated females, who soften andimprove all around them by _mental_ refinements, is serving his countryas much by founding peaceful villages and pleasant homesteads in thetrackless wilds, as ever he did by personal courage, or militarystratagem, in times of war. 

It will be seen, in the course of this work, that the writer is asearnest in recommending ladies who belong to the higher class ofsettlers to cultivate all the mental resources of a superior education, as she is to induce them to discard all irrational and artificial wantsand mere useless pursuits. She would willingly direct their attention tothe natural history and botany of this new country, in which they willfind a never-failing source of amusement and instruction, at onceenlightening and elevating the mind, and serving to fill up the voidleft by the absence of those lighter feminine accomplishments, thepractice of which are necessarily superseded by imperative domesticduties. To the person who is capable of looking abroad into the beautiesof nature, and adoring the Creator through his glorious works, areopened stores of unmixed pleasure, which will not permit her to be dullor unhappy in the loneliest part of our Western Wilderness. The writerof these pages speaks from experience, and would be pleased to find thatthe simple sources from which she has herself drawn pleasure, havecheered the solitude of future female sojourners in the backwoods ofCanada. 

As a general remark to all sorts and conditions of settlers, she wouldobserve, that the struggle up the hill of Independence is often a severeone, and it ought not to be made alone. It must be aided and encouragedby the example and assistance of an active and cheerful partner. Children should be taught to appreciate the devoted love that hasinduced their parents to overcome the natural reluctance felt by allpersons to quit for ever the land of their forefathers, the scenes oftheir earliest and happiest days, and to become aliens and wanderers ina distant country, --to form new ties and new friends, and begin, as itwere, life's toilsome march anew, that their children may be placed in asituation in which, by industry and activity, the substantial comfortsof life may be permanently obtained, and a landed property handed downto them, and their children after them. 

Young men soon become reconciled to this country, which offers to themthat chief attraction to youth, --great personal liberty. Theiremployments are of a cheerful and healthy nature; and their amusements, such as hunting, shooting, fishing, and boating, are peculiarlyfascinating. But in none of these can their sisters share. The hardshipsand difficulties of the settler's life, therefore, are felt peculiarlyby the female part of the family. It is with a view of amelioratingthese privations that the following pages have been written, to show howsome difficulties may be best borne and others avoided. The simpletruth, founded entirely on personal knowledge of the facts related, isthe basis of the work; to have had recourse to fiction might haverendered it more acceptable to many readers, but would have made it lessuseful to that class for whom it is especially intended. For those who, without intending to share in the privations and dangers of anemigrant's life, have a rational curiosity to become acquainted withscenes and manners so different from those of a long-civilized county, it is hoped that this little work will afford some amusement, andinculcate some lessons not devoid of moral instruction. 

LETTER I. 

Departure from Greenock in the Brig. _Laurel_. --Fitting-up of theVessel. --Boy Passenger. --Sea Prospect. --Want of Occupation andAmusement. --Captain's Goldfinch. 

Brig. _Laurel_, July 18, 1832

I RECEIVED your last kind letter, my dearest mother, only a few hoursbefore we set sail from Greenock. As you express a wish that I shouldgive you a minute detail of our voyage, I shall take up my subject fromthe time of our embarkation, and write as inclination prompts me. Instead of having reason to complain of short letters, you will, I fear, find mine only too prolix. 

After many delays and disappointments, we succeeded at last in obtaininga passage in a fast-sailing brig, the _Laurel_, of Greenock; andfavourable winds are now rapidly carrying us across the Atlantic. 

The _Laurel_ is not a regular passenger-ship, which I consider anadvantage, for what we lose in amusement and variety we assuredly gainin comfort. The cabin is neatly fitted up, and I enjoy the luxury (forsuch it is, compared with the narrow berths of the state cabin) of ahandsome sofa, with crimson draperies, in the great cabin. The statecabin is also ours. We paid fifteen pounds each for our passage toMontreal. This was high, but it includes every expense; and, in fact, wehad no choice. The only vessel in the river bound for Canada, was apassenger-ship, literally swarming with emigrants, chiefly of the lowerclass of Highlanders. 

The only passengers besides ourselves in the _Laurel_ are the captain'snephew, a pretty yellow-haired lad, about fifteen years of age, whoworks his passage out, and a young gentleman who is going out as clerkin a merchant's house in Quebec. He seems too much wrapped up in his ownaffairs to be very communicative to others; he walks much, talks little, and reads less, but often amuses himself by singing as he paces thedeck, "Home, sweet home, " and that delightful song by Camoens, "Isle ofbeauty. " It is a sweet song, and I can easily imagine the charm it hasfor a home-sick heart. 

I was much pleased with the scenery of the Clyde; the day we set sailwas a lovely one, and I remained on deck till nightfall. The morninglight found our vessel dashing gallantly along, with a favourablebreeze, through the north channel; that day we saw the last of theHebrides, and before night lost sight of the north coast of Ireland. Awide expanse of water and sky is now our only prospect, unvaried by anyobject save the distant and scarcely to be traced outline of some vesseljust seen at the verge of the horizon, a speck in the immensity ofspace, or sometimes a few sea-fowl. I love to watch these wanderers ofthe ocean, as they rise and fal with the rocking billows, or flit aboutour vessel; and often I wonder whence they came, to what distant shorethey are bound, and if they make the rude wave their home and resting-place during the long day and dark night; and then I recall to mind thewords of the American poet, Bryant, --

 "He who from zone to zone Guides through the boundless air their certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone Wilt guide my steps aright. "

Though we have been little more than a week on board, I am getting wearyof the voyage. I can only compare the monotony of it to being weather-bound in some country inn. I have already made myself acquainted withall the books worth reading in the ship's library; unfortunately, it ischiefly made up with old novels and musty romances. 

When the weather is fine I sit on a bench on the deck, wrapped in mycloak, and sew, or pace the deck with my husband, and talk over plansfor the future, which in all probability will never be realized. Ireally do pity men who are not actively employed: women have alwaystheir needle as a resource against the overwhelming weariness of an idlelife; but where a man is confined to a small space, such as the deck andcabin of a trading vessel, with nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothingto do, and nothing to read, he is really a very pitiable creature. 

There is one passenger on board that seems perfectly happy, if one mayjudge from the liveliness of the songs with which he greets us wheneverwe approach his cage. It is "Harry, " the captain's goldfinch--"the_captain's mate_, " as the sailors term him. This pretty creature hasmade no fewer than twelve voyages in the _Laurel_. "It is all one to himwhether his cage is at sea or on land, he is still at home, " said thecaptain, regarding his little favourite with an air of great affection, and evidently gratified by the attention I bestowed on his bird. 

I have already formed a friendship with the little captive. He neverfails to greet my approach with one of his sweetest songs, and will takefrom my fingers a bit of biscuit, which he holds in his claws till hehas thanked me with a few of his clearest notes. This mark ofacknowledgment is termed by the steward, "saying-grace. "

If the wind still continues to favour us, the captain tells us we shallbe on the banks of Newfoundland in another week. Farewell for thepresent. 

LETTER II

Arrival off Newfoundland. --Singing of the Captain's Goldfinch previousto the discovery of Land. --Gulf of St. Laurence. --Scenery of the RiverSt. Laurence. --Difficult navigation of the River. --French Fishermanengaged as a Pilot. --Isle of Bic. --Green Island. --Gros Isle. --QuarantineRegulations. --Emigrants on Gros Isle. --Arrival off Quebec. --Prospect ofthe City and Environs. 

Brig _Laurel_, River St. Laurence. August 6, 1832. 

I LEFT off writing, my dear mother, from this simple cause;--I hadnothing to say. One day was but the echo, as it were, of the one thatpreceded it; so that a page copied from the mate's log would have provedas amusing, and to the full as instructive, as my journal provided I hadkept one during the last fortnight. 

So barren of events has that time been that the sight of a party ofbottle-nosed whales, two or three seals, and a porpoise, possibly ontheir way to a dinner or tea party at the North Pole, was considered anoccurrence of great importance. Every glass was in requisition as soonas they made their appearance, and the marine monsters were well nighstared out of countenance. 

We came within sight of the shores of Newfoundland on the 5th of August, just one month from the day we took our last look of the British isles. Yet though the coast was brown, and rugged, and desolate, I hailed itsappearance with rapture. Never did any thing seem so refreshing anddelicious to me as the land breeze that came to us, as I thought, bearing health and gladness on its wings. 

I had noticed with some curiosity the restless activity of the captain'sbird some hours previous to "land" being proclaimed from the look-outstation. He sang continually, and his note was longer, clearer, and morethrilling than heretofore; the little creature, the captain assured me, was conscious of the difference in the air as we approached the land. "Itrust almost as much to my bird as to my glass, " he said, "and havenever yet been deceived. "

Our progress was somewhat tedious after we entered the gulf. Ninetymiles across is the entrance of this majestic river; it seems an oceanin itself. Half our time is spent poring over the great chart in thecabin, which is constantly being rolled and unrolled by my husband togratify my desire of learning the names of the distant shores andislands which we pass. 

We are without a pilot as yet, and the captain being a cautious seamanis unwilling to risk the vessel on this dangerous navigation; so that weproceed but slowly on our voyage. 

August 7. --We were visited this morning by a beautiful little bird, notmuch larger than our gold-crested wren. I hailed it as a bird of goodomen--a little messenger sent to bid us welcome to the New World, and Ifelt almost a childish joy at the sight of our little visitor. There arehappy moments in our lives when we draw the greatest pleasure from themost trifling sources, as children are pleased with the most simple toy. 

From the hour we entered the gulf a perceptible change had taken placein all on board. The captain, a man of grave, quiet manners, grew quitetalkative. My husband was more than usually animated, and even thethoughtful young Scotchman became positively an entertaining person. Thecrew displayed the most lively zeal in the performance of their duty, and the goldfinch sung cheerily from dawn till sunset. As for me Hopewas busy in my heart, chasing from it all feelings of doubt or regretthat might sadden the present or cloud the future. 

I am now able to trace distinctly the outline of the coast on thesouthern side of the river. Sometimes the high lands are suddenlyenveloped in dense clouds of mist, which are in constant motion, rollingalong in shadowy billows, now tinted with rosy light, now white andfleecy, or bright as silver, as they catch the sunbeams. So rapid arethe changes that take place in the fog-bank, that perhaps the next timeI raise my eyes I behold the scene changed as if by magic. The mistycurtain is slowly drawn up, as if by invisible hands, and the wild, wooded mountains partially revealed, with their bold rocky shores andsweeping bays. At other times the vapoury volume dividing, moves alongthe valleys and deep ravines, like lofty pillars of smoke, or hangs insnowy draperies among the dark forest pines. 

I am never weary of watching these fantastic clouds; they recall to methe pleasant time I spent in the Highlands, among the cloud-capped hillsof the north. 

As yet, the air is cold, and we experience frequent squalls of wind andhail, with occasional peals of thunder; then again all is serene andbright, and the air is filled with fragrance, and flies, and bees, andbirds come flitting past us from the shore. 

August 8. --Though I cannot but dwell with feelings of wonder andadmiration on the majesty and power of this mighty river, I begin togrow weary of its immensity, and long for a nearer view of the shore;but at present we see nothing more than long lines of pine-clad hills, with here and there a white speck, which they tell me are settlementsand villages to the south; while huge mountains divested of verdurebound our view on the north side the river. My admiration of mountainousscenery makes me dwell with more interest on this side the river, and Iwatch the progress of cultivation along these rugged and inhospitableregions with positive pleasure. 

During the last two days we have been anxiously looking out for a pilotto take us up to Quebec. Various signals have been fired, but hithertowithout success; no pilot has condescended to visit us, so we aresomewhat in the condition of a stage without a coachman, with only someinexperienced hand to hold the reins. I already perceive somemanifestations of impatience appearing among us, but no one blames thecaptain, who is very anxious about the matter; as the river is full ofrocks and shoals, and presents many difficulties to a person notintimately acquainted with the navigation. Besides, he is answerable forthe safety of the ship to the underwriters, in case he neglects to takea pilot on board. 

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While writing above I was roused by a bustle on deck, and going up tolearn the cause was informed that a boat with the long looked-for pilothad put off from the shore; but, after all the fuss and bustle, itproved only a French fisherman, with a poor ragged lad, his assistant. The captain with very little difficulty persuaded Monsieur Paul Bretonto pilot us as far as Green Island, a distance of some hundred mileshigher up the river, where he assured us we should meet with a regularpilot, if not before. 

I have some little difficulty in understanding Monsieur Paul, as hespeaks a peculiar dialect; but he seems good-natured and obligingenough. He tells us the corn is yet green, hardly in ear, and the summerfruits not yet ripe, but he says, that at Quebec we shall find applesand fruit in plenty. 

As we advance higher up the river the country on both sides begins toassume a more genial aspect. Patches of verdure, with white cottages, are seen on the shores and scattered along the sides of the mountains;while here and there a village church rears its simple spire, distinguished above the surroundings buildings by its glittering vaneand bright roof of tin. The southern shores are more populous but lesspicturesque than those of the north, but there is enough on either sideto delight the eye. 

This morning we anchored of the Isle of Bic, a pretty low island, covered with trees and looking very pleasant. I felt a longing desire toset my foot on Canadian ground, and must own I was a little disappointedwhen the captain advised me to remain on board, and not attempt to makeone of the party that were preparing to go on shore: my husband secondedthe captain's wish, so I contented myself with leaning over the ship'sside and feasting my eyes on the rich masses of foliage as they waved toand fro with the slight breeze that agitated them. I had soon reason tobe thankful that I had not followed my own wayward will, for theafternoon proved foggy, and on the return of the boat I learned that theground was swampy just where the party landed, and they sunk over theirankles in water. They reported the island to be covered knee-deep with amost luxuriant growth of red clover, tall trees, low shrubs, and anabundance of wild flowers. 

That I might not regret not accompanying him, my husband brought me adelightful bouquet, which he had selected for me. Among the flowers wereflagrant red roses, resembling those we call Scotch burnet-leaved, withsmooth shining leaves and few if any thorns; the blue flower calledPulmonaria or Lungwort, which I gathered in the Highlands, a sweet pea, with red blossoms and wreaths of lovely pale green foliage; a whiteorchis, the smell of which was quite delicious. Besides these wereseveral small white and yellow flowers, with which I was totallyunacquainted. The steward furnished me with a china jar and fresh water, so that I shall have the pleasure of a nosegay during the rest of thevoyage. The sailors had not forgotten a green bough or two to adorn theship, and the bird-cage was soon as bowery as leaves could make it. 

Though the weather is now very fine, we make but slow progress; theprovoking wind seems determined to blow from every quarter but theright. We float up with the flood tide, and when the tide fails castanchor, and wait with the best grace we can till it is time to weighanchor again. I amuse myself with examining the villages and settlementsthrough the captain's glass, or watching for the appearance of the whiteporpoises tumbling among the waves. These creatures are of a milkywhiteness, and have nothing of the disgusting look of the black ones. Sometimes a seal pops its droll head up close beside our vessel, lookingvery much like Sinbad's little old man of the sea. 

It is fortunate for me that my love of natural history enables me todraw amusement from objects that are deemed by many unworthy ofattention. To me they present an inexhaustible fund of interest. Thesimplest weed that grows in my path, or the fly that flutters about me, are subjects for reflection, admiration and delight. 

We are now within sight of Green Island. It is the largest, and Ibelieve one of the most populous we have passed. Every minute now seemsto increase the beauty of the passage. Far as the eye can reach you seethe shore thronged with villages and farms in one continuous line. Onthe southern side all are gay and glittering with the tin roofs on themost important buildings; the rest are shingles, whitewashed. This I donot like so well as the plain shingled roofs; the whiteness of the roofsof the cottages and homesteads have a glaring effect, and we look invain for that relief to the eye that is produced by the thatched orslated roofs. The shingles in their natural state soon acquire theappearance of slates, and can hardly be distinguished from them. Whatwould you say to a rose-coloured house, with a roof of the same gaudyhue, the front of the gay edifice being garnished with grass greenshutters, doors, and verandah. No doubt the interior is furnished withcorresponding taste. There is generally one or more of these _smart_buildings in a Canadian village, standing forth with ostentatioussplendour above its more modest brethren. 

August 11. --Just below Green Island we took on board a real pilot, who, by the way, I do not like half so well as Monsieur Paul. He is a littlebit pragmatical, and seems evidently proud of his superior knowledge ofthe river. The good-natured fisherman relinquished his post with a verygood grace, and seems already excellent friends with his more ablerival. For my part I was very sorry when the new pilot came on board;the first thing he did was to hand us over a pamphlet, containingregulations from the Board of Health at Quebec respecting the cholera, which is raging, he tells us, like a fearful plague both at that placeand Montreal. 

These regulations positively forbid the captain and the pilot to allowany person, whether of the crew or passengers, to quit the vessel untilthey shall have passed examination at the quarantine ground, under therisk of incurring a severe penalty. 

This was very annoying; as the captain, that very morning, had proposedtaking us on shore at a lovely spot called Crane Island, to spend theafternoon, while we waited for the return of the tide, at the house of aScotch gentleman, the owner of the prettiest settlement I had yet seen, the buildings and grounds being laid out with great taste. 

The situation of this island is of itself very beautiful. Around it arethe waters of the St. Laurence, bearing on its mighty current thecommerce of several nations: in the foreground are the populous andlively settlements of the southern shores, while behind and far, farabove it rise the lofty range of mountains to the north, now studdedwith rural villages, pleasant farms, and cultivated fields. The islanditself showed us smooth lawns and meadows of emerald verdure, withorchards and corn-fields sloping down to the water's edge. After aconfinement of nearly five weeks on board, you may easily suppose withwhat satisfaction we contemplated the prospect of spending a few hourson this inviting spot. 

We expect to reach the quarantine ground (Gros Isle) this evening, wherethe pilot says we shall be detained three days. Though we are all ingood health, yet, having sailed from an infected port, we shall bedetained on the quarantine ground, but not allowed to land. 

August 12. --We reached Gros Isle yesterday evening. It is a beautifulrocky island, covered with groves of beech, birch, ash, and fir-trees. There are several vessels lying at anchor close to the shore; one bearsthe melancholy symbol of disease, the yellow flag; she is a passenger-ship, and has the smallpox and measles among her crew. When anyinfectious complaint appears on board, the yellow flag is hoisted, andthe invalids conveyed to the cholera-hospital or wooden building, thathas been erected on a rising bank above the shore. It is surrounded withpalisadoes and a guard of soldiers. 

There is also a temporary fort at some distance from the hospital, containing a garrison of soldiers, who are there to enforce thequarantine rules. These rules are considered as very defective, and insome respects quite absurd, and are productive of many severe evils tothe unfortunate emigrants. 

When the passengers and crew of a vessel do not exceed a certain number, they are not allowed to land under a penalty, both to the captain andthe offender; but if, on the contrary, they should exceed the statednumber, ill or well, passengers and crew must all turn out and go onshore, taking with them their bedding and clothes, which are all spreadout on the shore, to be washed, aired, and fumigated, giving the healthyevery chance of taking the infection from the invalids. The sheds andbuildings put up for the accommodation of those who are obliged tosubmit to the quarantine laws, are it the same area as the hospital. 

[* It is to be hoped that some steps will be taken by Government toremedy these obnoxious laws which have repeatedly entailed those veryevils on the unhappy emigrants that the Board of Health wish to avertfrom the colony at large. 

Many valuable lives have been wantonly sacrificed by placing the healthyin the immediate vicinity of infection, besides subjecting them to manyother sufferings, expenses, and inconvenience, which the poor exilemight well be spared. 

If there must be quarantine laws--and I suppose the evil is a necessaryone--surely every care ought to be taken to render them as littlehurtful to the emigrant as possible. ]

Nothing can exceed the longing desire I feel to be allowed to land andexplore this picturesque island; the weather is so fine, and the wavinggroves of green, the little rocky bays and inlets of the island, appearso tempting; but to all my entreaties the visiting surgeon who came onboard returned a decided negative. 

A few hours after his visit, however, an Indian basket, containingstrawberries and raspberries, with a large bunch of wild flowers, wassent on board for me, with the surgeon's compliments. 

I amuse myself with making little sketches of the fort and thesurrounding scenery, or watching the groups of emigrants on shore. Wehave already seen the landing of the passengers of three emigrant ships. You may imagine yourself looking on a fair or crowded market, clotheswaving in the wind or spread out on the earth, chests, bundles, baskets, men, women, and children, asleep or basking in the sun, some in motionbusied with their goods, the women employed in washing or cooking in theopen air, beside the wood fires on the beach; while parties of childrenare pursuing each other in wanton glee rejoicing in their newly-acquiredliberty. Mixed with these you see the stately form and gay trappings ofthe sentinels, while the thin blue smoke of the wood fires, rising abovethe trees, heightens the picture and gives it an additional effect. Onmy husband remarking the picturesque appearance of scene before us toone of the officers from the fort who had come on board, he smiledsadly, and replied, "Believe me, in this instance, as in many others, 'tis distance lends enchantment to the view. " Could you take a nearersurvey of some of those very picturesque groups which you admire, Ithink you would turn away from them with heart sickness; you would therebehold every variety of disease, vice, poverty, filth, and famine--humanmisery in its most disgusting and saddening form. Such pictures asHogarth's pencil only could have pourtrayed, or Crabbe's pen described. 

August 14. --We are once more under weigh, and floating up the river withthe tide. Gros Isle is just five and twenty miles below Quebec, afavourable breeze would carry us up in a few hours; as it is we can onlymake a little way by tacking from side to side when we lose the tide. Irather enjoy this way of proceeding, as it gives one a close view ofboth sides the river, which narrows considerably as we approach nearertowards Quebec. To-morrow, if no accident happens, we shall be anchoredin front of a place rendered interesting both by its historicalassociations and its own native beauty of situation. Till to-morrow, then, adieu. 

I was reckoning much on seeing the falls of Montmorenci, which arewithin sight of the river; but the sun set, and the stars rosebrilliantly before we approached within sound of the cataract; andthough I strained my eyes till they were weary of gazing on the dimshadowy scene around me, I could distinguish nothing beyond the darkmasses of rock that forms the channel through which the waters of theMontmorenci rush into the St. Laurence. 

At ten last night, August the 15th, the lights of the city of Quebecwere seen gleaming through the distance like a coronet of stars abovethe waters. At half-past ten we dropped anchor opposite the fort, and Ifell asleep dreaming of the various scenes through which I had passed. Again I was destined to be disappointed in my expectations of going onshore. The visiting surgeon advised my husband and me by no means toland, as the mortality that still raged in the town made it veryhazardous. He gave a melancholy description of the place. "Desolationand woe and great mourning--Rachel weeping for her children because theyare not, " are words that may well be applied to this city of thepestilence. 

[Illustration - Falls of Montmorenci]

Nothing can be more imposing than the situation of Quebec, built on thesides and summit of a magnificent rock, on the highest point of which(Cape Diamond) stands the fortress overlooking the river, and commandinga most superb view of the surrounding scenes. I did, indeed, regret theloss of this noble prospect, the equal of which I suppose I shall neversee. It would have been something to have thought on and recalled inafter years, when buried in the solitude of the Canadian woods. 

The opposite heights, being the Point Levi side, are highly picturesque, though less imposing than the rock on which the town stands. The bank isrocky, precipitous, and clothed with trees that sweep down to thewater's edge, excepting where they are cleared away to give place towhite cottages, gardens, and hanging orchards. But, in my opinion, muchless is done with this romantic situation than might be effected if goodtaste were exercised in the buildings, and on the disposal of theground. How lovely would such a spot be rendered in England or Scotland. Nature here has done all, and man but little, excepting sticking up someugly wooden cottages, as mean as they are tasteless. It is, however, very possible there may be pretty villas and houses higher up, that areconcealed from the eye by the intervening groves. 

The river is considered to be just a mile across from Point Levi to thelanding-stairs below the custom-house in Quebec; and it was a source ofamusement to me to watch the horse ferry-boats that ply between the twoshores. The captain told me there were not less than twelve of thesecomical-looking machines. They each have their regular hours, so thatyou see a constant succession going or returning. They carry a strangeassortment of passengers; well and ill-dressed; old and young; rich andpoor; cows, sheep, horses, pigs, dogs, fowls, market-baskets, vegetables, fruit, hay, corn, anything and everything you will see byturns. 

The boat is flat, railed round, with a wicker at each end to admit thelive and dead stock that go or are taken on board; the centre of theboat (if such it can be called) is occupied by four lean, ill-favouredhacks, who walk round and round, as if in a threshing machine, and workthe paddles at each side. There is a sort of pen for the cattle. 

I am told there is a monument erecting in honour of Wolfe, in thegovernor's garden, looking towards the St. Laurence, and to be seen fromPoint Levi: the inscription has not yet been decided upon*. --------------------[* Since the period in which the author visited Quebec, Wolfe's monumenthas been completed. Lord Dalhousie, with equal good feeling and goodtaste, has united the names of the rival heroes Wolfe and Montcalm inthe dedication of the pillar--a liberality of feeling that cannot butprove gratifying to the Canadian French, while it robs the Britishwarrior of none of his glory. 

The monument was designed by Major Young of the 97th Regiment. To thetop of the surbase is fourteen feet from the ground; on this rests asarcophagus, seven feet three inches high, from which rises an obeliskforty-two feet eight inches in height, and the apex is two feet oneinch. The dimensions of the obelisk at the base are six feet by fourfeet eight inches. A prize medal was adjudged to J. C. Fisher, LL. D. Forthe following inscription on the sarcophagus:--

Mortem virtus communemFamam HistoriaMonumentum PosteritasDedit. 

On the surbase is an inscription from the pen of Dr. Mills, stating thefact of the erection of the monument at the expense of Lord Dalhousie, Governor of Lower Canada, to commemorate the death of Wolfe andMontcalm, Sept. 13 and 14, 1759. Wolfe fell on the field; and Montcalm, who was wounded by the single gun in the possession of the English, diedon the next day after the battle. ]--------------------

The captain has just returned from the town. He very kindly brought onboard a basket of ripe apples for me, besides fresh meat, vegetables, bread, butter, and milk. The deck is all bustle with custom-houseofficers, and men unloading a part of the ship's freight, which consistschiefly of rum, brandy, sugar, and coals, for ballast. We are to leaveQuebec by five o'clock this evening. The _British America_, a superbsteam-vessel of three decks, takes us in tow as far as Montreal. I mustnow say farewell. 

LETTER III. 

Departure from Quebec. --Towed by a Steam-vessel. --Fertility of theCountry. --Different Objects seen in sailing up the River. --Arrival offMontreal. --The Rapids. 

Brig _Laurel_, St. Laurence, below Montreal, August 17, 1832

IT was after sunset, and a glorious evening, when we left Quebec, whichwe did in company with a fine steam-vessel, whose decks and gallery werecrowded with passengers of all descriptions. A brave sight she was tolook upon; ploughing the bright waters which foamed and sung beneath herpaddles; while our brig, with her white sails, followed like a butterflyin her wake. The heavens were glowing with the richest tints of rose andsaffron, which were reflected below on the bosom of the river; and thencame forth the stars, in the soft blue ether, more brilliant than ever Isaw them at home, and this, I suppose, I may attribute to the superiorpurity of the atmosphere. My husband said this evening resembled thesunsets of Italy. 

Our voyage has proved a very pleasant one; the weather moderately warm, and the air quite clear. We have within the last few days emerged from acold, damp atmosphere, such as we often experience in Britain in thespring, to a delightful summer, moderated by light breezes from theriver. 

The further we advance up the country the more fertile it appears. Theharvest is ripening under a more genial climate than that below Quebec. We see fields of Indian corn in full flower: it is a stately-lookingcrop, with its beautiful feathery top tinted with a rich purple hue, below which tufts of pale green silk are waving in the breeze. Whenfully ripe they tell me it is beautiful to see the golden grain burstingfrom its silvery sheath; but that it is a crop liable to injury fromfrost, and has many enemies, such as bears, racoons, squirrels, mice, fowls, &c. 

We saw several fields of tobacco along the banks of the river, whichlooked healthy and flourishing. I believe tobacco is cultivated to someextent in both provinces; but the Canadian tobacco is not held in suchhigh esteem as that of Virginia. 

There is a flourishing and very pretty town situated at the junction ofthe Richelieu river with the St. Laurence, formerly called Sorel, nowcalled Fort William Henry. The situation is excellent. There are severalchurches, a military fort, with mills, and other public buildings, withsome fine stone houses. The land, however, in the immediate vicinity ofthe town seems very light and sandy. 

I was anxious to obtain a near view of a log-house or a shanty, and wassomewhat disappointed in the few buildings of this kind that I saw alongthe banks of the river. It was not the rudeness of the material so muchas the barn-like form of the buildings of this kind, and the littleattention that paid to the picturesque, that displeased me. In Britaineven the peasant has taste enough to plant a few roses or honeysucklesabout his door or his casement, and there is the little bit of gardenenclosed and neatly kept; but here no such attempt is made to ornamentthe cottages. We saw no smiling orchard or grove to conceal the bare logwalls; and as to the little farm-houses, they are uglier still, and lookso pert and ungraceful stuck upon the bank close to the water's edge. 

Further back a different style of building and cultivation appears. Thefarms and frame-houses are really handsome places, and in good taste, with clumps of trees here and there to break the monotony of theclearing. The land is nearly one unbroken level plain, apparentlyfertile and well farmed, but too flat for fine scenery. The countrybetween Quebec and Montreal has all the appearance of having been undera long state of cultivation, especially on the right bank of the river. Still there is a great portion of forest standing which it will takeyears of labour to remove. 

We passed some little grassy islands on which there were many herds ofcattle feeding. I was puzzling myself to know how they got there, whenthe captain told me it was usual for farmers to convey their stock tothese island pastures in flat-bottomed boats, or to swim them, if theplace was fordable, and leave them to graze as long as the foodcontinued good. If cows are put on an island within a reasonabledistance of the farm, some person goes daily in a canoe to milk them. While he was telling me this, a log-canoe with a boy and a stout lasswith tin pails, paddled across from the bank of the river, and proceededto call together their herd. 

We noticed some very pleasant rural villages to the right as weadvanced, but our pilot was stupid, and could not, or would not telltheir names. It was Sunday morning, and we could just hear the quicktinkling of the church bells, and distinguish long lines of caleches, light waggons, with equestrians and pedestrians hastening along theavenue of trees that led to the churchyard; besides these, were boatsand canoes crossing the river, bound to the same peaceful haven. 

In a part of the St. Laurence, where the channel is rendered difficultby shoals and sand-banks, there occur little lighthouses, lookingsomewhat like miniature watermills, on wooden posts, raised above theflat banks on which they are built. These droll little huts wereinhabited, and we noticed a merry party, in their holiday clothes, enjoying a gossip with a party in a canoe below them. They looked cleanand smart, and cheerful enough, but I did not envy them their situation, which I should think far from healthy. 

Some miles below Montreal the appearance of the country became richer, more civilized, and populous; while the distant line of blue mountains, at the verge of the horizon, added an interest to the landscape. Therich tint of ripened harvest formed a beautiful contrast with the azuresky and waters of the St. Laurence. The scenery of the river nearMontreal is of a very different character to that below Quebec; thelatter possesses a wild and rugged aspect, and its productions areevidently those of a colder and less happy climate. What the formerloses in grandeur and picturesque effect, it gains in fertility of soiland warmth of temperature. In the lower division of the province youfeel that the industry of the inhabitants is forcing a churlish soil forbread; while in the upper, the land seems willing to yield her increaseto a moderate exertion. Remember, these are merely the cursory remarksof a passing traveller, and founded on no personal experience. 

There was a feeling of anxiety and dread upon our minds that we wouldhardly acknowledge to each other as we drew near to the city of thepestilence, as if ashamed of confessing a weakness that was felt; but noone spoke on the subject. With what unmixed delight and admiration atany other time should we have gazed on the scene that opened upon us. 

The river here expands into a fine extensive basin, diversified withislands, on the largest of which Montreal is situated. 

The lofty hill from which the town takes its name rises like a crownabove it, and forms a singular and magnificent feature in the landscape, reminding me of some of the detached hills in the vicinity of Inverness. 

Opposite to the Quebec suburbs, just in front of the rapids, is situatedthe island of St. Helens, a spot of infinite loveliness. The centre ofit is occupied by a grove of lofty trees, while the banks, sloping downto the water, seem of the most verdant turf. The scene was heightened bythe appearance of the troops which garrison the island. 

The shores of the river, studded with richly cultivated farms; thevillage of La Prairie, with the little island of St. Ann's in thedistance; the glittering steeples and roofs of the city, with itsgardens and villas, --looked lovely by the softened glow of a Canadiansummer sunset. 

The church bells ringing for evening prayer, with the hum of voices fromthe shore, mingled not inharmoniously with the rush of the rapids. 

These rapids are caused by a descent in the bed of the river. In someplaces this declination is gradual, in others sudden and abrupt. Wherethe current is broken by masses of limestone or granite rock, as at theCascades, the Cedars, and the Long Sault, it creates whirlpools andcataracts. But the rapids below Montreal are not of this magnificentcharacter, being made perceptible only by the unusual swiftness of thewater, and its surface being disturbed by foam, and waving lines anddimples. In short, I was disappointed in my expectation of seeingsomething very grand; and was half angry at these pretty behaved quietrapids, to the foot of which we were towed in good style by our faithfulconsort the _British America_. 

As the captain is uncertain how long he may be detained at Montreal, Ishall send this letter without further delay, and write again as soon aspossible. 

LETTER IV. 

Landing at Montreal. --Appearance of the Town. --Ravages of the Cholera. --Charitable Institutions in Montreal. --Catholic Cathedral. --Lower andUpper Town. --Company and Conversation at the Hotel. --Writer attackedwith the Cholera. --Departure from Montreal in a Stage coach. --Embark atLachine on board a Steam-vessel. --Mode of travelling alternately inSteam-vessels and Stages. --Appearance of the Country. --Manufactures. --Ovens at a distance from the Cottages. --Draw-wells. --Arrival atCornwall. --Accommodation at the Inn. --Departure from Cornwall, andArrival at Prescott. --Arrival at Brockville. --Ship-launch there. --Voyagethrough Lake Ontario. --Arrival at Cobourg

Nelson Hotel, Montreal, August 21. 

Once more on terra ferma, dearest mother: what a strange sensation it isto tread the land once again, free from the motion of the heavingwaters, to which I was now, in truth, glad to bid farewell. 

By daybreak every creature on board was up and busily preparing forgoing on shore. The captain himself obligingly escorted us, and walkedas far with us as the hotel, where we are at present lodged. 

We found some difficulty in getting on shore, owing to the badness ofthe landing. The river was full of floating timbers, between which itrequired some skill to guide the boat. A wharf is now being built--notbefore it was needed*. [* Some excellent wharfs have since beencompleted. ]

We were struck by the dirty, narrow, ill-paved or unpaved streets of thesuburbs, and overpowered by the noisome vapour arising from a deep openfosse that ran along the street behind the wharf. This ditch seemed thereceptacle for every abomination, and sufficient in itself to infect awhole town with malignant fevers*. 

[* This has since been arched over. A market has been erected above it. ]

I was greatly disappointed in my first acquaintance with the interior ofMontreal; a place of which travellers had said so much. I could compareit only to the fruits of the Dead sea, which are said to be fair andtempting to look upon, but yield only ashes and bitterness when tastedby the thirsty traveller**. 

. .. .. .. .. . 

[** The following description of Montreal is given by M'Gregor in hisBritish America, vol. Ii. P. 504:--"Betwixt the royal mountain and theriver, on a ridge of gentle elevation, stands the town. Including thesuburbs, it is more extensive than Quebec. Both cities differ verygreatly in appearance; the low banks of the St. Laurence at Montrealwant the tremendous precipices frowning over them, and all that grandsublimity which characterizes Quebec. 

"There are no wharfs at Montreal, and the ships and steamers lie quietlyin pretty deep water, close to the clayey and generally filthy bank ofthe city. The whole of the lower town is covered with gloomy-lookinghouses, having dark iron shutters; and although it may be a littlecleaner than Quebec, it is still very dirty; and the streets are notonly narrow and ill-paved, but the footpaths are interrupted by slantingcellar doors and other projections. "

"It is impossible (says Mr. Talbot, in his Five Years' Residence) towalk the streets of Montreal on a Sunday or holiday, when the shops areclosed, without receiving the most gloomy impressions; the whole cityseems one vast prison;"--alluding to the window-shutters and outer doorsof iron, that have been adopted to counteract the effects of fire. ]

. .. .. .. .. . 

I noticed one peculiar feature in the buildings along the suburb facingthe river--that they were mostly furnished with broad wooden balconiesfrom the lower to the upper story; in some instances they surrounded thehouses on three sides, and seemed to form a sort of outer chamber. Someof these balconies were ascended by flights of broad stairs from theoutside. 

I remember when a child dreaming of houses so constructed, and fancyingthem very delightful; and so I think they might be rendered, if shadedby climbing shrubs, and adorned with flowers, to represent a hanging-garden or sweet-scented bowery walk. But nothing of this kind gladdenedour eyes as we toiled along the hot streets. Every house of publicresort was crowded from the top to the bottom with emigrants of allages, English, Irish, and Scotch. The sounds of riotous merriment thatburst from them seemed but ill-assorted with the haggard, careworn facesof many of the thoughtless revellers. 

The contrast was only too apparent and too painful a subject to thosethat looked upon this show of outward gaiety and inward misery. 

The cholera had made awful ravages, and its devastating effects were tobe seen in the darkened dwellings and the mourning habiliments of allclasses. An expression of dejection and anxiety appeared in the faces ofthe few persons we encountered in our walk to the hotel, which plainlyindicated the state of their minds. 

In some situations whole streets had been nearly depopulated; those thatwere able fled panic-stricken to the country villages, while othersremained to die in the bosom of their families. 

To no class, I am told, has the disease proved so fatal as to the poorersort of emigrants. Many of these, debilitated by the privations andfatigue of a long voyage, on reaching Quebec or Montreal indulged inevery sort of excess, especially the dangerous one of intoxication; and, as if purposely paving the way to certain destruction, they fellimmediate victims to the complaint. 

In one house eleven persons died, in another seventeen; a little childof seven years old was the only creature left to tell the woful tale. This poor desolate orphan was taken by the nuns to their benevolentinstitution, where every attention was paid that humanity could suggest. 

The number both of Catholic and Protestant benevolent societies is verygreat, and these are maintained with a liberality of principle that doeshonour to both parties, who seem indeed actuated by a fervent spirit ofChristian charity. 

I how of no place, not even excepting London itself, where the exerciseof benevolent feelings is more called for than in these two cities, Quebec and Montreal. Here meet together the unfortunate, theimprovident, the helpless orphan, the sick, the aged, the poor virtuousman, driven by the stern hand of necessity from his country and hishome, perhaps to be overtaken by sickness or want in a land ofstrangers. 

It is melancholy to reflect that a great number of the poorest class ofemigrants that perished in the reign of the cholera have left no traceby which their sorrowing anxious friends in the old country may learntheir fate. The disease is so sudden and so violent that it leaves notime for arranging worldly matters; the sentinel comes, not as it did toHezekiah, "Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live. "

The weather is sultry hot, accompanied by frequent thunder-showers, which have not the effect one would expect, that of cooling the heatedatmosphere. I experience a degree of languor and oppression that is verydistressing, and worse than actual pain. 

Instead of leaving this place by the first conveyance for the upperprovince, as we fully purposed doing, we find ourselves obliged toremain two days longer, owing to the dilatoriness of the custom-houseofficers in overlooking our packages. The fact is that everything andeverybody are out of sorts. 

The heat has been too oppressive to allow of my walking much abroad. Ihave seen but little of the town beyond the streets adjacent to thehotel: with the exception of the Catholic Cathedral, I have seen few ofthe public buildings. With the former I was much pleased: it is a finebuilding, though still in an unfinished state, the towers not havingbeen carried to the height originally intended. The eastern window, behind the altar, is seventy feet in height by thirty-three in width. The effect of this magnificent window from the entrance, the altar withits adornments and paintings, the several smaller altars and shrines, all decorated with scriptural designs, the light tiers of galleries thatsurround the central part of the church, the double range of columnssupporting the vaulted ceiling, and the arched windows, all combine toform one beautiful whole. What most pleased me was the extreme lightnessof the architecture though I thought the imitation of marble, with whichthe pillars were painted, coarse and glaring. We missed the time-hallowing mellowness that age has bestowed on our ancient churches andcathedrals. The grim corbels and winged angels that are carved on thegrey stone, whose very uncouthness tells of time gone by when ourancestors worshipped within their walls, give an additional interest tothe temples of our forefathers. But, though the new church at Montrealcannot compare with our York Minster, Westminster Abbey, and others ofour sacred buildings, it is well worthy the attention of travellers, whowill meet with nothing equal to it in the Canadas. 

There are several colleges and nunneries, a hospital for the sick, several Catholic and Protestant churches, meeting-houses, a guard-house, with many other public edifices. 

The river-side portion of the town is entirely mercantile. Its narrow, dirty streets and dark houses, with heavy iron shutters, have adisagreeable appearance, which cannot but make an unfavourableimpression on the mind of a British traveller. The other portion of thetown, however, is of a different character, and the houses areinterspersed with gardens and pleasant walks, which looked veryagreeable from the windows of the ball-room of the Nelson Hotel. Thisroom, which is painted from top to bottom, the walls and ceiling, with acoarse imitation of groves and Canadian scenery, commands a superb viewof the city, the river, and all surrounding country, taking in thedistant mountains of Chamblay, the shores of St. Laurence, towards LaPrairie, and the rapids above and below the island of St. Anne's. Theroyal mountain (Mont Real), with its wooded sides, its rich scenery, andits city with its streets and public buildings, lie at your feet: withsuch objects before you the eye may well be charmed with the scenery ofMontreal. 

We receive the greatest attention from the master of the hotel, who isan Italian. The servants of the house are very civil, and the companythat we meet at the ordinary very respectable, chiefly emigrants likeourselves, with some lively French men and women. The table is wellsupplied, and the charges for board and lodging one dollar per dayeach*. 

[* This hotel is not of the highest class, in which the charge is adollar and a half per day. Ed. ]

I am amused with the variety of characters of which our table iscomposed. Some of the emigrants appear to entertain the most sanguinehopes of success, appearing to foresee no difficulties in carrying theirschemes into effect. As a contrast to these there is one of mycountrymen, just returned from the western district on his way back toEngland, who entreats us by no means to go further up this horridcountry, as he emphatically styles the Upper Province, assuring us hewould not live in it for all the land it contained. 

He had been induced, by reading Cattermole's pamphlet on the subject ofEmigration, to quit a good farm, and gathering together what property hepossessed, to embark for Canada. Encouraged by the advice of a friend inthis country, he purchased a lot of wild land in the western district;"but sir, " said he, addressing my husband with much vehemence, "I foundI had been vilely deceived. Such land, such a country--I would not livein it for all I could see. Why, there is not a drop of wholesome waterto be got, or a potato that is fit to eat. I lived for two months in amiserable shed they call a shanty, eaten up alive with mosquitoes. Icould get nothing to eat but salted pork, and, in short, the discomfortsare unbearable. And then all my farming knowledge was quite useless--people know nothing about farming in this country. Why, it would havebroken my heart to work among the stumps, and never see such a thing asa well-ploughed field. And then, " he added, in a softer tone, "I thoughtof my poor wife and the little one. I might, for the sake of betteringmy condition, have roughed out a year or so myself, but, poor thing, Icould not have had the heart to have brought her out from the comfortsof England to such a place, not so good as one of our cow-houses orstables, and so I shall just go home; and if I don't tell all myneighbours what sort of a country this is they are all crazing to throwup their farms and come to, never trust a word of mine again. "

It was to no purpose that some persons present argued with him on thefolly of returning until he had tried what could be done: he only toldthem they were fools if they staid an hour in a country like this; andended by execrating those persons who deceived the people at home bytheir false statements, who sum up in a few pages all the advantages, without filling a volume with the disadvantages, as they might well do. 

"Persons are apt to deceive themselves as well as to be deceived, " saidmy husband; "and having once fixed their minds on any one subject, willonly read and believe those things that accord with their wishes. "

This young man was evidently disappointed in not finding all things asfair and pleasant as at home. He had never reflected on the subject, orhe could not have been so foolish as to suppose he would encounter nodifficulties in his first outset, in a settlement in the woods. We areprepared to meet with many obstacles, and endure considerableprivations, although I dare say we may meet with many unforeseen ones, forewarned as we have been by our Canadian friend's letters. 

Our places are taken in the stage for Lachine, and if all is well, weleave Montreal to-morrow morning. Our trunks, boxes, &c. Are to be senton by the forwarders to Cobourg. --August 22. 

Cobourg, August 29. --When I closed my last letter I told you, my dearmother, that we should leave Montreal by sunrise the following day; butin this we were doomed to be disappointed, and to experience the truthof these words: "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest notwhat an hour may bring forth. " Early that very morning, just an hourbefore sunrise, I was seized with the symptoms of the fatal malady thathad made so many homes desolate. I was too ill to commence my journey, and, with a heavy heart, heard the lumbering wheels rattle over thestones from the door of the hotel. 

I hourly grew worse, till the sister of the landlady, an excellent youngwoman, who had previously shown me great attention, persuaded me to sendfor a physician; and my husband, distracted at seeing me in such agony, ran off to seek for the best medical aid. After some little delay aphysician was found. I was then in extreme torture; but was relieved bybleeding, and by the violent fits of sickness that ensued. I will notdwell minutely on my sufferings, suffice to say, they were intense; butGod, in his mercy, though he chastened and afflicted me, yet gave me notover unto death. From the females of the house I received the greatestkindness. Instead of fleeing affrighted from the chamber of sickness, the two Irish girls almost quarrelled which should be my attendant;while Jane Taylor, the good young woman I before mentioned, never leftme from the time I grew so alarmingly ill till a change for the betterhad come over me, but, at the peril of her own life, supported me in herarms, and held me on her bosom, when I was struggling with mortal agony, alternately speaking peace to me, and striving to soothe the anguish ofmy poor afflicted partner. 

The remedies applied were bleeding, a portion of opium, blue pill, andsome sort of salts--not the common Epsom. The remedies proved effectual, though I suffered much from sickness and headache for many hours. Thedebility and low fever that took place of the cholera obliged me to keepmy bed some days. During the two first my doctor visited me four times aday; he was very kind, and, on hearing that I was the wife of a Britishofficer emigrating to the Upper Province, he seemed more than everinterested in my recovery, evincing a sympathy for us that was verygrateful to our feelings. After a weary confinement of several days, Iwas at last pronounced in a sufficiently convalescent state to begin myjourney, though still so weak that I was scarcely able to supportmyself. 

The sun had not yet risen when the stage that was to take us to Lachine, the first nine miles of our route, drove up to the door, and we gladlybade farewell to a place in which our hours of anxiety had been many, and those of pleasure few. We had, however, experienced a great deal ofkindness from those around us, and, though perfect strangers, had tastedsome of the hospitality for which this city has often been celebrated. Iomitted, in my former letter, telling you how we formed an acquaintancewith a highly respectable merchant in this place, who afforded us agreat deal of useful information, and introduced us to his wife, a veryelegant and accomplished young woman. During our short acquaintance, wepassed some pleasant hours at their house, much to our satisfaction. 

I enjoyed the fresh breeze from the river along the banks of which ourroad lay. It was a fine sight to see the unclouded sun rising frombehind the distant chain of mountains. Below us lay the rapids in theirperturbed state, and there was the island of St. Anne's, bringing to ourminds Moore's Canadian boat song: "We'll sing at Saint Anne's ourparting hymn. "

The bank of the St. Laurence, along which our road lay, is higher herethan at Montreal, and clothed with brushwood on the summit, occasionallybroken with narrow gulleys. The soil, as near as I could see, was sandyor light loam. I noticed the wild vine for the first time twining amongthe saplings. There were raspberry bushes, too, and a profusion of thattall yellow flower we call Aaron's golden rod, a _solidago_, and thewhite love-everlasting, the same that the chaplets are made of by theFrench and Swiss girls to adorn the tombs of their friends, and whichthey call _immortelle_; the Americans call it life-everlasting; also atall purple-spiked valerian, that I observed growing in the fields amongthe corn, as plentiful as the bugloss is in our light sandy fields inEngland. 

At Lachine we quitted the stage and went on board a steamer, a finevessel elegantly fitted up with every accommodation. I enjoyed thepassage up the river exceedingly, and should have been delighted withthe journey by land had not my recent illness weakened me so much that Ifound the rough roads very unpleasant. As to the vehicle, a Canadianstage, it deserves a much higher character than travellers have had thecandour to give it, and is so well adapted for the roads over which itpasses that I doubt if it could be changed for a more suitable one. Thisvehicle is calculated to hold nine persons, three back, front, andmiddle; the middle seat, which swings on broad straps of leather; is byfar the easiest, only you are liable to be disturbed when any of thepassengers choose to get out. 

Certainly the travelling is arranged with as little trouble to thetraveller as possible. Having paid your fare to Prescott you have nothought or care. When you quit the steam-boat you find a stage ready toreceive you and your luggage, which is limited to a certain proportion. When the portage is passed (the land carriage), you find a steam-vesselready, where you have every accommodation. The charges are notimmoderate, considering the comforts you enjoy. 

In addition to their own freight, the steamers generally tow up severalother vessels. We had three Durham boats at one time, beside some othersmall craft attached to us, which certainly afforded some variety, ifnot amusement. 

With the exception of Quebec and Montreal, I must give the preference tothe Upper Province. If not on so grand a scale, the scenery is morecalculated to please, from the appearance of industry and fertility itdisplays. I am delighted, in travelling along the road, with theneatness, cleanliness, and comfort of the cottages and farms. The log-house and shanty rarely occur, having been supplanted by pretty framehouses, built in a superior style, and often painted white-lead colouror a pale pea-green. Around these habitations were orchards, bendingdown with a rich harvest of apples, plums, and the American crab, thosebeautiful little scarlet apples so often met with as a wet preserveamong our sweetmeats at home. 

You see none of the signs of poverty or its attendant miseries. Noragged, dirty, squalid children, dabbling in mud or dust; but many atidy, smart-looking lass was spinning at the cottage-doors, with brighteyes and braided locks, while the younger girls were seated on the greenturf or on the threshold, knitting and singing as blithe as birds. 

There is something very picturesque in the great spinning-wheels thatare used in this country for spinning the wool, and if attitude were tobe studied among our Canadian lasses, there cannot be one more becoming, or calculated to show off the natural advantages of a fine figure, thanspinning at the big wheel. The spinster does not sit, but walks to andfro, guiding the yarn with one hand while with the other she turns thewheel. 

I often noticed, as we passed by the cottage farms, hanks of yarn ofdifferent colours hanging on the garden or orchard fence to dry; therewere all manner of colours, green, blue, purple, brown, red, and white. A civil landlady, at whose tavern we stopped to change horses, told methese hanks of yarn were first spun and then dyed by the good wives, preparatory to being sent to the loom. She showed me some of this home-spun cloth, which really looked very well. It was a dullish dark brown, the wool being the produce of a breed of black sheep. This cloth is madeup in different ways for family use. 

"Every little dwelling you see, " said she, "has its lot of land, and, consequently, its flock of sheep; and, as the children are early taughtto spin, and knit, and help dye the yarn, their parents can afford tosee them well and comfortably clothed. 

"Many of these very farms you now see in so thriving a condition werewild land thirty years ago, nothing but Indian hunting-grounds. Theindustry of men, and many of them poor men, that had not a rood of landof their own in their own country, has effected this change. "

I was much gratified by the reflection to which this good woman'sinformation gave rise. "We also are going to purchase wild land, and whymay not we see our farm, in process of time, " thought I, "equal thesefertile spots. Surely this is a blessed country to which we haveemigrated, " said I, pursuing the pleasing idea, "where every cottageabounds with the comforts and necessaries of life. "

I perhaps overlooked at that time the labour, the difficulties, theprivations to which these settlers had been exposed when they first cameto this country. I saw it only at a distance of many years, under a highstate of cultivation, perhaps in the hands of their children or theirchildren's children, while the toil-worn parent's head was low in thedust. 

Among other objects my attention was attracted by the appearance of openburying-grounds by the roadside. Pretty green mounds, surrounded bygroups of walnut and other handsome timber trees, contained the gravesof a family, or may be, some favoured friends slept quietly below theturf beside them. If the ground was not consecrated, it was hallowed bythe tears and prayers of parents and children. 

These household graves became the more interesting to me on learningthat when a farm is disposed of to a stranger, the right of buryingtheir dead is generally stipulated for by the former possessor. 

You must bear with me if I occasionally weary you with dwelling ontrifles. To me nothing that bears the stamp of novelty is devoid ofinterest. Even the clay-built ovens stuck upon four legs at a littledistance from the houses were not unnoticed in passing. When there isnot the convenience of one of these ovens outside the dwellings, thebread is baked in large iron pots--"_bake-kettles_" they are termed. Ihave already seen a loaf as big as a peck measure baking on the hearthin one of these kettles, and tasted of it, too; but I think the confinedsteam rather imparts a peculiar taste to the bread, which you do notperceive in the loaves baked in brick or clay ovens. At first I couldnot make out what these funny little round buildings, perched upon fourposts, could be; and I took them for bee-hives till I spied a good womandrawing some nice hot loaves out of one that stood on a bit of wasteland on the roadside, some fifty yards from the cottage. 

Besides the ovens every house had a draw-well near it, which differed inthe contrivance for raising the water from those I had seen in the oldcountry. The plan is very simple:--a long pole, supported by a post, acts as a lever to raise the bucket, and the water can be raised by achild with very trifling exertion. This method is by many personspreferred to either rope or chain, and from its simplicity can beconstructed by any person at the mere trouble of fixing the poles. Imention this merely to show the ingenuity of people in this country, andhow well adapted all their ways are to their means*. [* The plan ispursued in England and elsewhere, and may be seen in the market-gardenson the western suburb of London. It can only be done when the water isnear the surface. ]

We were exceedingly gratified by the magnificent appearance of therapids of the St. Laurence, at the cascades of which the road commandeda fine view from the elevation of the banks. I should fail in my attemptto describe this grand sheet of turbulent water to you. Howison haspictured them very minutely in his work on Upper Canada, which I knowyou are well acquainted with. I regretted that we could not linger tofeast our eyes with a scene so wild and grand as the river here appears;but a Canadian stage waits for no one, so we were obliged to contentourselves with a passing sight of these celebrated rapids. 

We embarked at Couteau du Lac and reached Cornwall late the sameevening. Some of the stages travel all night, but I was too muchfatigued to commence a journey of forty-nine miles over Canadian roadsthat night. Our example was followed by a widow lady and her littlefamily. 

We had some difficulty obtaining a lodging, the inns being full oftravellers; here, for the first time we experienced something of thatodious manner ascribed, though doubtless too generally, to the American. Our host seemed perfectly indifferent to the comfort of his guests, leaving them to wait on themselves or go without what they wanted. Theabsence of females in these establishments is a great drawback whereladies are travelling. The women keep entirely out of sight, or treatyou with that offensive coldness and indifference that you derive littlesatisfaction from their attendance. 

After some difficulty in obtaining sight of the landlady of the inn atCornwall, and asking her to show me a chamber where we might pass thenight, with a most ungracious air she pointed to a door which openedinto a mere closet, in which was a bed divested of curtains, one chair, and an apology for a wash-stand. Seeing me in some dismay at the sightof this uninviting domicile, she laconically observed there was that ornone, unless I chose to sleep in a four-bedded room, which had threetenants in it, --and those gentlemen. This alternative I somewhatindignantly declined, and in no very good humour retired to my cabin, where vile familiars to the dormitory kept us from closing our wearyeye-lids till the break of day. 

We took an early and hasty breakfast, and again commenced our journey. Here our party consisted of myself, my husband, a lady and gentlemanwith three small children, besides an infant of a month old, all ofwhom, from the eldest to the youngest, were suffering from hooping-cough; two great Cumberland miners, and a French pilot and hiscompanion, this was a huge amphibious-looking monster, who bounced inand squeezed himself into a corner seat, giving a knowing nod andcomical grin to the driver, who was in the secret, and in utter defianceof all remonstrance at this unlooked-for intrusion, cracked his whipwith a flourish, that appeared to be reckoned pretty considerably smartby two American travellers that stood on either side of the door at theinn, with their hats not in their hands nor yet on their heads, butslung by a black ribbon to one of their waistcoat buttons, so as to fallnearly under one arm. This practice I have seen adopted since, and thinkif Johnny Gilpin had but taken this wise precaution he might have savedboth hat and wig. 

I was dreadfully fatigued with this day's travelling, being literallybruised black and blue. We suffered much inconvenience from theexcessive heat of the day, and could well have dispensed with thecompany of two out of the four of our bulky companions. 

We reached Prescott about five the same afternoon, where we met withgood treatment at the inn; the female servants were all English, andseemed to vie with each other in attention to us. 

We saw little in the town of Prescott to interest or please. After anexcellent breakfast we embarked on board the _Great Britain_, the fineststeamer we had yet seen, and here we were joined by our new friends, toour great satisfaction. 

At Brockville we arrived just in time to enjoy what was to me quite anovel sight, --a ship-launch. A gay and exciting scene it was. The sunshone brilliantly on a concourse of people that thronged the shore intheir holiday attire; the church bells rang merrily out, mingling withthe music from the deck of the gaily painted vessel that, with flags andstreamers, and a well-dressed company on board, was preparing for thelaunch. 

To give additional effect, a salute was fired from a temporary forterected for the occasion on a little rocky island in front of the town. The schooner took the water in fine style, as if eager to embrace theelement which was henceforth to be subject to her. It was a moment ofintense interest. The newly launched was greeted with three cheers fromthe company on board the _Great Britain_, with a salute from the littlefort, and a merry peal from the bells, which were also rung in honour ofa pretty bride that came on board with her bridegroom on their way tovisit the falls of Niagara. 

Brockville is situated just at the entrance of the lake of the ThousandIslands, and presents a pretty appearance from the water. The town hasimproved rapidly, I am told, within the last few years, and is becominga place of some importance. 

The shores of the St. Laurence assume a more rocky and picturesqueaspect as you advance among its thousand islands, which present everyvariety of wood and rock. The steamer put in for a supply of fire-woodat a little village on the American side the river, where also we tookon board five-and-twenty beautiful horses, which are to be exhibited atCobourg and York for sale. 

There was nothing at all worthy of observation in the American village, unless I except a novelty that rather amused me. Almost every house hada tiny wooden model of itself, about the bigness of a doll's house, (orbaby-house, I think they are called, ) stuck up in front of the roof orat the gable end. I was informed by a gentleman on board, these baby-houses, as I was pleased to call them, were for the swallows to buildin. 

It was midnight when we passed Kingston, so of course I saw nothing ofthat "key to the lakes, " as I have heard it styled. When I awoke in themorning the steamer was dashing gallantly along through the waters ofthe Ontario, and I experienced a slight sensation of sickness. 

When the waters of the lake are at all agitated, as they sometimes are, by high winds, you might imagine yourself upon a tempest-tossed sea. 

The shores of the Ontario are very fine, rising in waving lines of hilland dale, clothed with magnificent woods, or enlivened by patches ofcultivated land and pretty dwellings. At ten o'clock we reached Cobourg. 

Cobourg, at which place we are at present, is a neatly built andflourishing village, containing many good stores, mills, a banking-house, and printing-office, where a newspaper is published once a week. There is a very pretty church and a select society, many families ofrespectability having fixed their residences in or near the town. 

To-morrow we leave Cobourg, and shall proceed to Peterborough, fromwhich place I shall again write and inform you of our futuredestination, which will probably be on one of the small lakes of theOtanabee. 

LETTER V. 

Journey from Cobourg to Amherst. --Difficulties to be encountered onfirst settling in the Backwoods. --Appearance of the Country. --RiceLake. --Indian Habits. --Voyage up the Otanabee. --Log-house, and itsInmates. --Passage boat. --Journey on foot to Peterborough. 

Peterborough, Newcastle District. September 8, 1832. 

We left Cobourg on the afternoon of the 1st of September in a lightwaggon, comfortably lined with buffalo robes. Our fellow travellersconsisted of three gentlemen and a young lady, all of whom proved veryagreeable, and willing to afford us every information respecting thecountry through which we were travelling. The afternoon was fine--one ofthose rich mellow days we often experience in the early part ofSeptember. The warm hues of autumn were already visible on the foresttrees, but rather spoke of ripeness than decay. The country roundCobourg is well cultivated, a great portion of the woods having beensuperseded by open fields, pleasant farms, and fine flourishingorchards, with green pastures, where abundance of cattle were grazing. 

The county gaol and court-house at Amherst, about a mile and a half fromCobourg, is a fine stone edifice, situated on a rising ground, whichcommands an extensive view over the lake Ontario and surroundingscenery. As you advance farther up the country, in the direction of theHamilton or Rice Lake plains, the land rises into bold sweeping hillsand dales. 

The outline of the country reminded me of the hilly part ofGloucestershire; you want, however, the charm with which civilizationhas so eminently adorned that fine county, with all its romanticvillages, flourishing towns, cultivated farms, and extensive downs, sothickly covered with flocks and herds. Here the bold forests of oak, beech, maple, and bass-wood, with now and then a grove of dark pine, cover the hills, only enlivened by an occasional settlement, with itslog-house and zig-zag fences of split timber: these fences are veryoffensive to my eye. I look in vain for the rich hedge rows of my nativecountry. Even the stone fences in the north and west of England, coldand bare as they are, are less unsightly. The settlers, however, invariably adopt whatever plan saves time, labour, and money. The greatlaw of expediency is strictly observed;--it is borne of necessity. Matters of taste appear to be little regarded, or are, at all events, after-considerations. 

I could see a smile hover on the lips of my fellow travellers on hearingof our projected plans for the adornment of our future dwelling. 

"If you go into the backwoods your house must necessarily be a log-house, " said an elderly gentleman, who had been a settler many years inthe country. "For you will most probably be out of the way of a saw-mill, and you will find so much to do, and so many obstacles toencounter, for the first two or three years, that you will hardly haveopportunity for carrying these improvements into effect. 

"There is an old saying, " he added, with a mixture of gravity and goodhumour in his looks, "that I used to hear when I was a boy, 'firstcreep* and then go'. [* Derived from infants crawling on all-foursbefore they have strength to walk. ] Matters are not carried on quite soeasily here as at home; and the truth of this a very few weeks'acquaintance with the _bush_, as we term all unbroken forest land, willprove. At the end of five years you may begin to talk of these prettyimprovements and elegancies, and you will then be able to see a littlewhat you are about. "

"I thought, " said I, "every thing in this country was done with so muchexpedition. I am sure I have heard and read of houses being built in aday. " The old gentleman laughed. 

"Yes, yes, " he replied, "travellers find no difficulty in putting up ahouse in twelve or twenty-four hours, and so the log-walls can be raisedin that time or even less; but the house is not completed when the outerwalls are up, as your husband will find to his cost. "

"But all the works on emigration that I leave read, " replied I, "give afair and flattering picture of a settler's life; for, according to theirstatements, the difficulties are easily removed. "

"Never mind books, " said my companion, "use your own reason. Look onthose interminable forests, through which the eye can only penetrate afew yards, and tell me how those vast timbers are to be removed, utterlyextirpated, I may say, from the face of the earth, the ground clearedand burnt, a crop sown and fenced, and a house to shelter you raised, without difficulty, without expense, and without great labour. Nevertell me of what is said in books, written very frequently by tarry-at-home travellers. Give me facts. One honest, candid emigrant's experienceis worth all that has been written on the subject. Besides, that whichmay be a true picture of one part of the country will hardly suitanother. The advantages and disadvantages arising from soil, situation, and progress of civilization, are very different in different districts:even the prices of goods and of produce, stock and labour, varyexceedingly, according as you are near to, or distant from, towns andmarkets. "

I began to think my fellow-traveller spoke sensibly on the subject, withwhich the experience of thirteen years had made him perfectlyconversant. I began to apprehend that we also had taken too flattering aview of a settler's life as it must be in the backwoods. Time and ourown personal knowledge will be the surest test, and to that we must bow. We are ever prone to believe that which we wish. 

About halfway between Cobourg and the Rice Lake there is a pretty valleybetween two steep hills. Here there is a good deal of cleared land and atavern: the place is called "Cold Springs. " Who knows but some centuryor two hence this spot may become a fashionable place of resort to drinkthe waters. A Canadian Bath or Cheltenham may spring up where now Naturerevels in her wilderness of forest trees. 

We now ascended the plains--a fine elevation of land--for many milesscantily clothed with oaks, and here and there bushy pines, with othertrees and shrubs. The soil is in some places sandy, but varies, I amtold, considerably in different parts, and is covered in large trackswith rich herbage, affording abundance of the finest pasture for cattle. A number of exquisite flowers and shrubs adorn these plains, which rivalany garden in beauty during the spring and summer months. Many of theseplants are peculiar to the plains, and are rarely met with in any othersituation. The trees, too, though inferior in size to those in theforests, are more picturesque, growing in groups or singly, atconsiderable intervals, giving a sort of park-like appearance to thisportion of the country. The prevailing opinion seems to be, that theplains laid out in grazing or dairy farms would answer the purpose ofsettlers well; as there is plenty of land that will grow wheat and othercorn-crops, and can be improved at a small expense, besides abundance ofnatural pasture for cattle. One great advantage seems to be, that theplough can be introduced directly, and the labour of preparing theground is necessarily much less than where it is wholly covered withwood. 

[Illustration: Rice Grounds]

There are several settlers on these plains possessing considerablefarms. The situation, I should think, must be healthy and agreeable, from the elevation and dryness of the land, and the pleasant prospectthey command of the country below them, especially where the Rice Lake, with its various islands and picturesque shores, is visible. The grounditself is pleasingly broken into hill and valley, sometimes gentlysloping, at other times abrupt and almost precipitous. 

An American farmer, who formed one of our party at breakfast thefollowing morning, told me that these plains were formerly famoushunting grounds of the Indians, who, to prevent the growth of thetimbers, burned them year after year; this, in process of time, destroyed the young trees, so as to prevent them again from accumulatingto the extent they formerly did. Sufficient only was left to formcoverts; for the deer resort hither in great herds for the sake of apeculiar tall sort of grass with which these plains abound, called deer-grass, on which they become exceedingly fat at certain seasons of theyear. 

Evening closed in before we reached the tavern on the shores of the RiceLake, where we were to pass the night; so that I lost something of thebeautiful scenery which this fine expanse of water presents as youdescend the plains towards its shores. The glimpses I caught of it wereby the faint but frequent flashes of lightning that illumined thehorizon to the north, which just revealed enough to make me regret Icould see no more that night. The Rice Lake is prettily diversified withsmall wooded islets: the north bank rises gently from the water's edge. Within sight of Sully, the tavern from which the steam-boat starts thatgoes up the Otanabee, you see several well cultivated settlements; andbeyond the Indian village the missionaries have a school for theeducation and instruction of the Indian children. Many of them can bothread and write fluently, and are greatly improved in their moral andreligious conduct. They are well and comfortably clothed, and havehouses to live in. But they are still too much attached to theirwandering habits to become good and industrious settlers. During certainseasons they leave the village, and encamp themselves in the woods alongthe borders of those lakes and rivers that present the most advantageoushunting and fishing grounds. 

The Rice Lake and Mud Lake Indians belong, I am told, to the Chippewas;but the traits of cunning and warlike ferocity that formerly marked thissingular people seem to have disappeared beneath the milder influence ofChristianity. 

Certain it is that the introduction of the Christian religion is thefirst greatest step towards civilization and improvement; its verytendency being to break down the strong-holds of prejudice andignorance, and unite mankind in one bond of social brotherhood. I havebeen told that for some time drunkenness was unknown, and even themoderate use of spirits was religiously abstained from by all theconverts. This abstinence is still practised by some families; but oflate the love of ardent spirits has again crept in among them, bringingdiscredit upon their faith. It is indeed hardly to be wondered at, whenthe Indian sees those around him that call themselves Christians, andwho are better educated, and enjoy the advantages of civilized society, indulging to excess in this degrading vice, that he should suffer hisnatural inclination to overcome his Christian duty, which might in somehave taken no deep root. I have been surprised and disgusted by thecensures passed on the erring Indian by persons who were foremost inindulgence at the table and the tavern; as if the crime of drunkennesswere more excusable in the man of education than in the half-reclaimedsavage. 

There are some fine settlements on the Rice Lake, but I am told theshores are not considered healthy, the inhabitants being subject tolake-fevers and ague, especially where the ground is low and swampy. These fevers and agues are supposed by some people to originate in theextensive rice-beds which cause a stagnation in the water; the constantevaporation from the surface acting on a mass of decaying vegetationmust tend to have a bad effect on the constitution of those that areimmediately exposed to its pernicious influence. 

Besides numerous small streams, here called _creeks_, two considerablerivers, the Otanabee and the Trent, find an outlet for their waters inthe Rice Lake. These rivers are connected by a chain of small lakes, which you may trace on any good map of the province. I send you adiagram, which has been published at Cobourg, which will give you thegeography of this portion of the country. It is on one of these smalllakes we purpose purchasing land, which, should the navigation of thesewaters be carried into effect, as is generally supposed to be incontemplation, will render the lands on their shores very advantageousto the settlers; at present they are interrupted by large blocks ofgranite and limestone, rapids, and falls, which prevent any but canoesor flat-bottomed boats from passing on them, and even these are limitedto certain parts, on account of the above-named obstacles. By deepeningthe bed of the river and lakes, and forming locks in some parts andcanals, the whole sweep of these waters might be thrown open to the Bayof Quinte. The expense, however, would necessarily be great; and tillthe townships of this portion of the district be fully settled, it ishardly to be expected that so vast an undertaking should be effected, however desirable it may be. 

[Illustration: Sleigh driving]

We left the tavern at Rice Lake, after an unusual delay, at nineo'clock. The morning was damp, and a cold wind blew over the lake, whichappeared to little advantage through the drizzling rain, from which Iwas glad to shroud my face in my warm plaid cloak, for there was nocabin or other shelter in the little steamer than an inefficient awning. This apology for a steam-boat formed a considerable contrast with thesuperbly-appointed vessels we had lately been passengers in on theOntario and the St. Laurence. But the circumstance of a steamer at allon the Otanabee was a matter of surprise to us, and of exultation to thefirst settlers along its shores, who for many years had been contentedwith no better mode of transport than a scow or a canoe for themselvesand their marketable produce, or through the worst possible roads with awaggon or sleigh. 

The Otanabee is a fine broad, clear stream, divided into two mouths atits entrance to the Rice Lake by a low tongue of land, too swampy to beput under cultivation. This beautiful river (for such I consider it tobe) winds its way between thickly-wooded banks, which rise gradually asyou advance higher up the country. 

Towards noon the mists cleared off, and the sun came forth in all thebrilliant beauty of a September day. So completely were we shelteredfrom the wind by the thick wall of pines on either side, that I nolonger felt the least inconvenience from the cold that had chilled me oncrossing the lake in the morning. 

To the mere passing traveller, who cares little for the minute beautiesof scenery, there is certainly a monotony in the long and unbroken lineof woods, which insensibly inspires a feeling of gloom almost touchingon sadness. Still there are objects to charm and delight the closeobserver of nature. His eye will be attracted by fantastic bowers, whichare formed by the scarlet creeper (or Canadian ivy) and the wild vine, flinging their closely-entwined wreaths of richly tinted foliage frombough to bough of the forest trees, mingling their hues with thesplendid rose-tipped branches of the soft maple, the autumnal tints ofwhich are unrivalled in beauty by any of our forest trees at home. 

The purple clusters of the grape, by no means so contemptible in size asI had been led to imagine, looked tempting to my longing eyes, as theyappeared just ripening among these forest bowers. I am told the juiceforms a delicious and highly-flavoured jelly, boiled with sufficientquantity of sugar; the seeds are too large to make any other preparationof them practicable. I shall endeavour, at some time or other, to trythe improvement that can be effected by cultivation. One is apt toimagine where Nature has so abundantly bestowed fruits, that is the mostfavourable climate for their attaining perfection with the assistance ofculture and soil. 

[Illustration: Silver Pine]

The waters of the Otanabee are so clear and free from impurity that youdistinctly see every stone-pebble or shell at the bottom. Here and therean opening in the forest reveals some tributary stream, working its waybeneath the gigantic trees that meet above it. The silence of the sceneis unbroken but by the sudden rush of the wild duck, disturbed from itsretreat among the shrubby willows, that in some parts fringe the leftbank, or the shrill cry of the kingfisher, as it darts across the water. The steam-boat put in for a supply of fire-wood at a clearing abouthalf-way from Peterborough, and I gladly availed myself of theopportunity of indulging my inclination for gathering some of thesplendid cardinal flowers that grew among the stones by the river'sbrink. Here, too, I plucked as sweet a rose as ever graced an Englishgarden. I also found, among the grass of the meadow-land, spearmint, and, nearer to the bank, peppermint. There was a bush resembling ourhawthorn, which, on examination, proved to be the cockspur hawthorn, with fruit as large as cherries, pulpy, and of a pleasant tartness notmuch unlike to tamarinds. The thorns of this tree were of formidablelength and strength. I should think it might be introduced with greatadvantage to form live fences; the fruit, too, would prove by no meanscontemptible as a preserve. 

As I felt a great curiosity to see the interior of a log-house, Ientered the open door-way of the tavern, as the people termed it, underthe pretext of buying a draught of milk. The interior of this rudedwelling presented no very inviting aspect. The walls were of roughunhewn logs, filled between the chinks with moss and irregular wedges ofwood to keep out the wind and rain. The unplastered roof displayed therafters, covered with moss and lichens, green, yellow, and grey; abovewhich might be seen the shingles, dyed to a fine mahogany-red by thesmoke which refused to ascend the wide clay and stone chimney, to curlgracefully about the roof, and seek its exit in the various crannies andapertures with which the roof and sides of the building abounded. 

The floor was of earth, which had become pretty hard and smooth throughuse. This hut reminded me of the one described by the four Russiansailors that were left to winter on the island of Spitzbergen. Itsfurniture was of corresponding rudeness; a few stools, rough andunplaned; a deal table, which, from being manufactured from unseasonedwood, was divided by three wide open seams, and was only held togetherby its ill-shaped legs; two or three blocks of grey granite placedbeside the hearth served for seats for the children, with the additionof two beds raised a little above the ground by a frame of split cedars. On these lowly couches lay extended two poor men, suffering under thewasting effects of lake-fever. Their yellow bilious faces strangelycontrasted with the gay patchwork-quilts that covered them. I felt muchconcerned for the poor emigrants, who told me they had not been manyweeks in the country when they were seized with the fever and ague. Theyboth had wives and small children, who seemed very miserable. The wivesalso had been sick with ague, and had not a house or even shanty oftheir own up; the husbands having fallen ill were unable to do anything;and much of the little money they had brought out with them had beenexpended in board and lodging in this miserable place, which theydignified by the name of tavern. I cannot say I was greatly prepossessedin favour of their hostess, a harsh, covetous woman. Besides the variousemigrants, men, women, and children, that lodged within the walls, thelog-house had tenants of another description. A fine calf occupied a penin a corner; some pigs roamed grunting about in company with some half-dozen fowls. The most attractive objects were three snow-white pigeons, that were meekly picking up crumbs, and looking as if they were too pureand innocent to be inhabitants of such a place. 

Owing to the shallowness of the river at this season, and to the rapids, the steam-boat is unable to go up the whole way to Peterborough, and ascow or rowboat, as it is sometimes termed--a huge, unwieldy, flat-bottomed machine--meets the passengers at a certain part of the river, within sight of a singular pine tree on the right bank; this is termedthe "Yankee bonnet, " from the fancied resemblance of the topmost boughsto a sort of cap worn by the Yankees, not much unlike the blue bonnet ofScotland. 

Unfortunately, the steamer ran aground some four miles below the usualplace of rendezvous, and we waited till near four o'clock for the scow. When it made its appearance, we found, to our discomfort, the rowers(eight in number, and all Irishmen) were under the exciting influence ofa --g of whiskey, which they had drunk dry on the voyage. They weremoreover exasperated by the delay on the part of the steamer, which gavethem four miles additional heavy rowing. Beside a number of passengersthere was an enormous load of furniture, trunks, boxes, chests, sacks ofwheat, barrels of flour, salt, and pork, with many miscellaneouspackages and articles, small and great, which were piled to a heightthat I thought very unsafe both to goods and passengers. 

With a marvellous ill grace the men took up their oars when their loadwas completed, but declared they would go on shore and make a fire andcook their dinners, they not having eaten any food, though they hadtaken large potations of the whiskey. This measure was opposed by someof the gentlemen, and a fierce and angry scene ensued, which ended inthe mutineers flinging down their oars, and positively refusing to rowanother stroke till they had satisfied their hunger. 

Perhaps I had a fellow-feeling for them, as I began to be exceedinglyhungry, almost ravenous, myself, having fasted since six that morning;indeed, so faint was I, that I was fain to get my husband to procure mea morsel of the coarse uninviting bread that was produced by the rowers, and which they ate with huge slices of raw pickled pork, seasoning thisunseemly meal with curses "not loud but deep, " and bitter taunts againstthose who prevented them from cooking their food like _Christians_. 

While I was eagerly eating the bit of bread, an old farmer, who had eyedme for some time with a mixture of curiosity and compassion, said, "Poorthing: well, you do seem hungry indeed, and I dare say are just out fromthe _ould_ country, and so little used to such hard fare. Here are somecakes that my woman (i. E. Wife) put in my pocket when I left home; Icare nothing for them, but they are better than that bad bread; take'em, and welcome. " With these words he tossed some very respectablehome-made seed-cakes into my lap, and truly never was anything morewelcome than this seasonable refreshment. 

A sullen and gloomy spirit seemed to prevail among our boatmen, which byno means diminished as the evening drew on, and "the rapids were near. "The sun had set, and the moon and stars rose brilliantly over the stillwaters, which gave back the reflections of their glorious multitude ofheavenly bodies. A sight so passing fair might have stilled the mostturbulent spirits into peace; at least so I thought, as, wrapped in mycloak, I leant back against the supporting arm of my husband, andlooking from the waters to the sky, and from the sky to the waters, withdelight and admiration. My pleasant reverie was, however, soon ended, when I suddenly felt the boat touch the rocky bank, and heard theboatmen protesting they would go no further that night. We were nearlythree miles below Peterborough, and how I was to walk this distance, weakened as I was by recent illness and fatigue of our long travelling, I knew not. To spend the night in an open boat, exposed to the heavydews arising from the river, would be almost death. While we weredeliberating on what to do, the rest of the passengers had made up theirminds, and taken the way through the woods by a road they were wellacquainted with. They were soon out of sight, all but one gentleman, whowas bargaining with one of the rowers to take him and his dog across theriver at the head of the rapids in a skiff. 

Imagine our situation, at ten o'clock at night, without knowing a singlestep of our road, put on shore to find the way to the distant town as webest could, or pass the night in the dark forest. 

Almost in despair, we entreated the gentleman to be our guide as far ashe went. But so many obstacles beset our path in the form of newly-chopped trees and blocks of stone, scattered along the shore, that itwas with the utmost difficulty we could keep him in sight. At last wecame up with him at the place appointed to meet the skiff, and, with apertinacity that at another time and in other circumstances we nevershould have adopted, we all but insisted on being admitted into theboat. An angry growling consent was extorted from the surly Charon, andwe hastily entered the frail bark, which seemed hardly calculated toconvey us in safety to the opposite shore. 

I could not help indulging in a feeling of indescribable fear, as Ilistened to the torrent of profane invective that burst forthcontinually from the lips of the boatman. Once or twice we were indanger of being overset by the boughs of the pines and cedars which hadfallen into the water near the banks. Right glad was I when we reachedthe opposite shores; but here a new trouble arose: there was yet moreuntracked wood to cross before we again met the skiff which had to passup a small rapid, and meet us at the head of the small lake, anexpansion of the Otanabee a little below Peterborough. At the distanceof every few yards our path was obstructed by fallen trees, mostlyhemlock, spruce, or cedar, the branches of which are so thicklyinterwoven that it is scarcely possible to separate them, or force apassage through the tangled thicket which they form. 

Had it not been for the humane assistance of our conductor, I know nothow I should have surmounted these difficulties. Sometimes I was readyto sink down from very weariness. At length I hailed, with a joy I couldhardly have supposed possible, the gruff voice of the Irish rower, and, after considerable grumbling on his part, we were again seated. 

Glad enough we were to see, by the blazing light of an enormous log-heap, the house of our friend. Here we received the offer of a guide toshow us the way to the town by a road cut through the wood. We partookof the welcome refreshment of tea, and, having gained a little strengthby a short rest, we once more commenced our journey, guided by a ragged, but polite, Irish boy, whose frankness and good humour quite won ourregards. He informed us he was one of seven orphans, who had lost fatherand mother in the cholera. It was a sad thing, he said, to be leftfatherless and motherless, in a strange land; and he swept away thetears that gathered in his eyes as he told the simple, but sad tale ofhis early bereavement; but added, cheerfully, he had met with a kindmaster, who had taken some of his brothers and sisters into his serviceas well as himself. 

Just as we were emerging from the gloom of the wood we found ourprogress impeded by a _creek_, as the boy called it, over which he toldus we must pass by a log-bridge before we could get to the town. Now, the log-bridge was composed of one log, or rather a fallen tree, thrownacross the stream, rendered very slippery by the heavy dew that hadrisen from the swamp. As the log admitted of only one person at a time, I could receive no assistance from my companions; and, though our littleguide, with a natural politeness arising from the benevolence of hisdisposition, did me all the service in his power by holding the lanternclose to the surface to throw all the light he could on the subject, Ihad the ill luck to fall in up to my knees in the water, my head turningquite giddy just as I came to the last step or two; thus was I wet aswell as weary. To add to our misfortune we saw the lights disappear, oneby one, in the village, till a solitary candle, glimmering from theupper chambers of one or two houses, were our only beacons. We had yet alodging to seek, and it was near midnight before we reached the door ofthe principal inn; there, at least, thought I, our troubles for to-nightwill end; but great was our mortification on being told there was not aspare bed to be had in the house, every one being occupied by emigrantsgoing up to one of the back townships. 

I could go no further, and we petitioned for a place by the kitchenfire, where we might rest, at least, if not sleep, and I might dry mywet garments. On seeing my condition the landlady took compassion on me, led me to a blazing fire, which her damsels quickly roused up; onebrought a warm bath for my feet, while another provided a warm potation, which, I really believe, strange and unusual to my lips as it was, didme good: in short, we received every kindness and attention that werequired from mine host and hostess, who relinquished their own bed forour accommodation, contenting themselves with a shakedown before thekitchen fire. 

I can now smile at the disasters of _that_ day, but at the time theyappeared no trifles, as you may well suppose. 

Farewell, my dearest Mother. 

LETTER VI. 

Peterborough. --Manners and Language of the Americans. --ScotchEngineman. --Description of Peterborough and its Environs. --CanadianFlowers. --Shanties. --Hardships suffered by first Settlers. --Process ofestablishing a Farm. 

Peterborough, Sept. 11, 1832. 

IT is now settled that we abide here till after the government sale hastaken place. We are, then, to remain with S------ and his family till wehave got a few acres chopped, and a log-house put up on our own land. Having determined to go at once into the bush, on account of ourmilitary grant, which we have been so fortunate as to draw in theneighbourhood of S------, we have fully made up our minds to enter atonce, and cheerfully, on the privations and inconveniences attendingsuch a situation; as there is no choice between relinquishing that greatadvantage and doing our settlement duties. We shall not be worse offthan others who have gone before us to the unsettled townships, many ofwhom, naval and military officers, with their families, have had tostruggle with considerable difficulties, but who are now beginning tofeel the advantages arising from their exertions. 

In addition to the land he is entitled to as an officer in the Britishservice, my husband is in treaty for the purchase of an eligible lot bysmall lakes. This will give us a water frontage, and a furtherinducement to bring us within a little distance of S------; so that weshall not be quite so lonely as if we had gone on to our government lotat once. 

We have experienced some attention and hospitality from several of theresidents of Peterborough. There is a very genteel society, chieflycomposed of officers and their families, besides the professional menand storekeepers. Many of the latter are persons of respectable familyand good education. Though a store is, in fact, nothing better than whatwe should call in the country towns at home a "_general shop_, " yet thestorekeeper in Canada holds a very different rank from the shopkeeper ofthe English village. The storekeepers are the merchants and bankers ofthe places in which they reside. Almost all money matters are transactedby them, and they are often men of landed property and consequence, notunfrequently filling the situations of magistrates, commissioners, andeven members of the provincial parliament. 

As they maintain a rank in society which entitles them to equality withthe aristocracy of the country, you must not be surprised when I tellyou that it is no uncommon circumstance to see the sons of naval andmilitary officers and clergymen standing behind a counter, or wieldingan axe in the woods with their fathers' choppers; nor do they lose theirgrade in society by such employment. After all, it is education andmanners that must distinguish the gentleman in this country, seeing thatthe labouring man, if he is diligent and industrious, may soon becomehis equal in point of worldly possessions. The ignorant man, let him beever so wealthy, can never be equal to the man of education. It is themind that forms the distinction between the classes in this country--"Knowledge is power!"

We had heard so much of the odious manners of the Yankees in thiscountry that I was rather agreeably surprised by the few specimens ofnative Americans that I have seen. They were for the most part, polite, well-behaved people. The only peculiarities I observed in them were acertain nasal twang in speaking, and some few odd phrases; but thesewere only used by the lower class, who "_guess_" and "_calculate_" alittle more than we do. One of their most remarkable terms is to"_Fix_. " Whatever work requires to be done it must be _fixed_. "Fix theroom" is, set it in order. "Fix the table"--"Fix the fire, " says themistress to her servants, and the things are fixed accordingly. 

I was amused one day by hearing a woman tell her husband the chimneywanted fixing. I thought it seemed secure enough, and was a littlesurprised when the man got a rope and a few cedar boughs, with which hedislodged an accumulation of soot that caused the fire to smoke. Thechimney being _fixed_, all went right again. This odd term is notconfined to the lower orders alone, and, from hearing it so often, itbecomes a standard word even among the later emigrants from our owncountry. 

With the exception of some few remarkable expressions, and an attempt atintroducing fine words in their every-day conversation, the lower orderof Yankees have a decided advantage over our English peasantry in theuse of grammatical language: they speak better English than you willhear from persons of the same class in any part of England, Ireland, orScotland; a fact that we should be unwilling, I suppose, to allow athome. 

If I were asked what appeared to me the most striking feature in themanners of the Americans that I had met with, I should say it wascoldness approaching to apathy. I do not at all imagine them to bedeficient in feeling or real sensibility, but they do not suffer theiremotion to be seen. They are less profuse in their expressions ofwelcome and kindness than we are, though probably quite as sincere. Noone doubts their hospitality; but, after all, one likes to see thehearty shake of the hand, and hear the cordial word that makes one feeloneself welcome. 

Persons who come to this country are very apt to confound the oldsettlers from Britain with the native Americans; and when they meet withpeople of rude, offensive manners, using certain Yankee words in theirconversation, and making a display of independence not exactly suitableto their own aristocratical notions, they immediately suppose they mustbe genuine Yankees, while they are, in fact, only imitators; and youwell know the fact that a bad imitation is always worse than theoriginal. 

You would be surprised to see how soon the new comers fall into thisdisagreeable manner and affectation of equality, especially the inferiorclass of Irish and Scotch; the English less so. We were ratherentertained by the behaviour of a young Scotchman, the engineer of thesteamer, on my husband addressing him with reference to the managementof the engine. His manners were surly, and almost insolent. Hescrupulously avoided the least approach to courtesy or outward respect;nay, he even went so far as to seat himself on the bench close besideme, and observed that "among the many advantages this country offered tosettlers like him, he did not reckon it the least of them that he wasnot obliged to take off his hat when he spoke to people (meaning personsof our degree), or address them by any other title than their name;besides, he could go and take his seat beside any gentleman or ladyeither, and think himself to the full as good as them. 

"Very likely, " I replied, hardly able to refrain from laughing at thissally; "but I doubt you greatly overrate the advantage of suchprivileges, for you cannot oblige the lady or gentleman to entertain thesame opinion of your qualifications, or to remain seated beside youunless it pleases them to do so. " With these words I rose up and leftthe independent gentleman evidently a little confounded at themanoeuvre: however, he soon recovered his self-possession, and continuedswinging the axe he held in his hand, and said, "It is no crime, Iguess, being born a poor man. "

"None in the world, " replied my husband; "a man's birth is not of hisown choosing. A man can no more help being born poor than rich; neitheris it the fault of a gentleman being born of parents who occupy a higherstation in society than his neighbour. I hope you will allow this?"

The Scotchman was obliged to yield a reluctant affirmative to the latterposition; but concluded with again repeating his satisfaction at notbeing obliged in this country to take off his hat, or speak with respectto gentlemen, as they styled themselves. 

"No one, my friend, could have obliged you to be well mannered at homeany more than in Canada. Surely you could have kept your hat on yourhead if you had been so disposed; no gentleman would have knocked itoff, I am sure. 

"As to the boasted advantage of rude manners in Canada, I should thinksomething of it if it benefited you the least, or put one extra dollarin your pocket; but I have my doubts if it has that profitable effect. "

"There is a comfort, I guess, in considering oneself equal to agentleman. "

"Particularly if you could induce the gentleman to think the same. " Thiswas a point that seemed rather to disconcert our candidate for equality, who commenced whistling and kicking his heels with redoubled energy. 

"Now, " said his tormentor, "you have explained your notions of Canadianindependence; be so good as to explain the machinery of your engine, with which you seem very well acquainted. "

The man eyed my husband for a minute, half sulking, half pleased at theimplied compliment on his skill, and, walking off to the engine, discussed the management of it with considerable fluency, and from thattime treated us with perfect respect. He was evidently struck with myhusband's reply to his question, put in a most discourteous tone, "Pray, what makes a gentleman: I'll thank you to answer me that?" "Good mannersand good education, " was the reply. "A rich man or a high-born man, ifhe is rude, ill-mannered, and ignorant, is no more a gentleman thanyourself. "

This put the matter on a different footing, and the engineer had thegood sense to perceive that rude familiarity did not constitute agentleman. 

But it is now time I should give you some account of Peterborough, which, in point of situation, is superior to any place I have yet seenin the Upper Province. It occupies a central point between the townshipsof Monaghan, Smith, Cavan, Otanabee, and Douro, and may with proprietybe considered as the capital of the Newcastle district. 

It is situated on a fine elevated plain, just above the small lake, where the river is divided by two low wooded islets. The original orgovernment part of the town is laid out in half-acre lots; the streets, which are now fast filling up, are nearly at right angles with theriver, and extend towards the plains to the northeast. These plains forma beautiful natural park, finely diversified with hill and dale, coveredwith a lovely green sward, enamelled with a variety of the mostexquisite flowers, and planted, as if by Nature's own hand, with groupsof feathery pines, oaks, balsam, poplar, and silver birch. The viewsfrom these plains are delightful; whichever way you turn your eyes theyare gratified by a diversity of hill and dale, wood and water, with thetown spreading over a considerable tract of ground. 

The plains descend with a steep declivity towards the river, whichrushes with considerable impetuosity between its banks. Fancy a long, narrow valley, and separating the east and west portions of the towninto two distinct villages. 

[Illustration: Spruce]

The Otanabee bank rises to a loftier elevation than the Monaghan side, and commands an extensive view over the intervening valley, the oppositetown, and the boundary forest and hills behind it: this is calledPeterborough East, and is in the hands of two or three individuals oflarge capital, from whom the town lots are purchased. 

Peterborough thus divided covers a great extent of ground, more thansufficient for the formation of a large city. The number of inhabitantsare now reckoned at seven hundred and upwards, and if it continues toincrease as rapidly in the next few years as it has done lately, it willsoon be a very populous town*. 

[*Since this account of Peterborough was written, the town has increasedat least a third in buildings and population. ]

There is great water-power, both as regards the river and the fine broadcreek which winds its way through the town and falls into the small lakebelow. There are several saw and grist-mills, a distillery, fulling-mill, two principal inns, beside smaller ones, a number of good stores, a government school-house, which also serves for a church, till one moresuitable should be built. The plains are sold off in park lots, and somepretty little dwellings are being built, but I much fear the naturalbeauties of this lovely spot will be soon spoiled. 

I am never weary with strolling about, climbing the hills in everydirection, to catch some new prospect, or gather some new flowers, which, though getting late in the summer, are still abundant. 

Among the plants with whose names I am acquainted are a variety ofshrubby asters, of every tint of blue, purple, and pearly white; a lilac_monarda_, most delightfully aromatic, even to the dry stalks and seed-vessels; the white _gnaphalium_ or everlasting flower; roses of severalkinds, a few late buds of which I found in a valley, near the church. Ialso noticed among the shrubs a very pretty little plant, resembling ourbox; it trails along the ground, sending up branches and shoots; theleaves turn of a deep copper red*; yet, in spite of this contradiction, it is an evergreen. I also noticed some beautiful lichens, with coralcaps surmounting the grey hollow footstalks, which grow in irregulartufts among the dry mosses, or more frequently I found them covering theroots of the trees or half-decayed timbers. Among a variety of fungi Igathered a hollow cup of the most splendid scarlet within, and a palefawn colour without; another very beautiful fungi consisted of smallbranches like clusters of white coral, but of so delicate a texture thatthe slightest touch caused them to break. 

[* Probably a _Gaultkeria_. --Ed. ]

The ground in many places was covered with a thick carpet ofstrawberries of many varieties, which afford a constant dessert duringthe season to those who choose to pick them, a privilege of which I amsure I should gladly avail myself were I near them in the summer. Besidethe plants I have myself observed in blossom, I am told the spring andsummer produce many others;--the orange lily; the phlox, or purple_lichnidea_; the mocassin flower, or ladies' slipper; lilies of thevalley in abundance; and, towards the banks of the creek and theOtanabee, the splendid cardinal flower (_lobelia cardinalis_) waves itsscarlet spikes of blossoms. 

I am half inclined to be angry when I admire the beauty of the Canadianflowers, to be constantly reminded that they are scentless, andtherefore scarcely worthy of attention; as if the eye could not becharmed by beauty of form and harmony of colours, independent of thesense of smelling being gratified. 

To redeem this country from the censure cast on it by a very clevergentleman I once met in London, who said, "the flowers were withoutperfume, and the birds without song, " I have already discovered severalhighly aromatic plants and flowers. The milkweed must not be omittedamong these; a beautiful shrubby plant with purple flowers, which arealike remarkable for beauty of colour and richness of scent. 

I shall very soon begin to collect a hortas siccus for Eliza, with adescription of the plants, growth, and qualities. Any strikingparticulars respecting them I shall make notes of; and tell her she maydepend on my sending my specimens, with seeds of such as I can collect, at some fitting opportunity. 

I consider this country opens a wide and fruitful field to the inquiriesof the botanist. I now deeply regret I did not benefit by the frequentoffers Eliza made me of prosecuting a study which I once thought dry, but now regard as highly interesting, and the fertile source of mentalenjoyment, especially to those who, living in the bush, must necessarilybe shut out from the pleasures of a large circle of friends, and thevarieties that a town or village offer. 

On Sunday I went to church; the first opportunity I had had of attendingpublic worship since I was in the Highlands of Scotland; and surely Ihad reason to bow my knees in thankfulness to that merciful God who hadbrought us through the perils of the great deep and the horrors of thepestilence. 

Never did our beautiful Liturgy seem so touching and impressive as itdid that day, --offered up in our lowly log-built church in thewilderness. 

This simple edifice is situated at the foot of a gentle slope on theplains, surrounded by groups of oak and feathery pines, which, thoughinferior in point of size to the huge pines and oaks of the forest, arefar more agreeable to the eye, branching out in a variety of fantasticforms. The turf here is of an emerald greenness: in short, it is a sweetspot, retired from the noise and bustle of the town, a fitting place inwhich to worship God in spirit and in truth. 

There are many beautiful walks towards the Smith town hills, and alongthe banks that overlook the river. The summit of this ridge is sterile, and is thickly set with loose blocks of red and grey granite, interspersed with large masses of limestone scattered in everydirection; they are mostly smooth and rounded, as if by the action ofwater. As they are detached, and merely occupy the surface of theground, it seemed strange to me how they came at that elevation. Ageologist would doubtless be able to solve the mystery in a few minutes. The oaks that grow on this high bank are rather larger and moreflourishing than those in the valleys and more fertile portions of thesoil. 

Behind the town, in the direction of the Cavan and Emily roads, is awide space which I call the "squatter's ground, " it being entirelycovered with shanties, in which the poor emigrants, commuted pensioners, and the like, have located themselves and families. Some remain hereunder the ostensible reason of providing a shelter for their wives andchildren till they have prepared a home for their reception on theirrespective grants; but not unfrequently it happens that they are tooindolent, or really unable to work on their lots, often situated manymiles in the backwoods, and in distant and unsettled townships, presenting great obstacles to the poor emigrant, which it requires moreenergy and courage to encounter than is possessed by a vast number ofthem. Others, of idle and profligate habits, spend the money theyreceived, and sell the land, for which they gave away their pensions, after which they remain miserable squatters on the shanty ground. 

The shanty is a sort of primitive hut in Canadian architecture, and isnothing more than a shed built of logs, the chinks between the roundedges of the timbers being filled with mud, moss, and bits of wood; theroof is frequently composed of logs split and hollowed with the axe, andplaced side by side, so that the edges rest on each other; the concaveand convex surfaces being alternately uppermost, every other log forms achannel to carry off the rain and melting snow. The eaves of thisbuilding resemble the scolloped edges of a clamp shell; but rude as thiscovering is, it effectually answers the purpose of keeping the interiordry; far more so than the roofs formed of bark or boards, through whichthe rain will find entrance. Sometimes the shanty has a window, sometimes only an open doorway, which admits the light and lets out thesmoke*. A rude chimney, which is often nothing better than an openingcut in one of the top logs above the hearth, a few boards fastened in asquare form, serves as the vent for the smoke; the only precautionagainst the fire catching the log walls behind the hearth being a fewlarge stones placed in a half circular form, or more commonly a bank ofdry earth raised against the wall. 

[* I was greatly amused by the remark made by a little Irish boy, thatwe hired to be our hewer of wood and drawer of water, who had been aninhabitant of one of these shanties. "Ma'am" said he, "when the weatherwas stinging cold, we did not know how to keep ourselves warm; for whilewe roasted our eyes out before the fire our backs were just freezing; sofirst we turned one side and then the other, just as you would roast a_guse_ on a spit. Mother spent half the money father earned at his strawwork (he was a straw chair maker, ) in whiskey to keep us warm; but I dothink a larger mess of good hot _praters_ (potatoes, ) would have kept uswarmer than the whiskey did. "]

Nothing can be more comfortless than some of these shanties, reekingwith smoke and dirt, the common receptacle for children, pigs, andfowls. But I have given you the dark side of the picture; I am happy tosay all the shanties on the squatters' ground were not like these: onthe contrary, by far the larger proportion were inhabited by tidy folks, and had one, or even two small windows, and a clay chimney regularlybuilt up through the roof; some were even roughly floored, and possessedsimilar comforts with the small log-houses. 

[Illustration: Log house]

You will, perhaps, think it strange when I assure you that manyrespectable settlers, with their wives and families, persons delicatelynurtured, and accustomed to every comfort before they came hither, havebeen contented to inhabit a hut of this kind during the first or secondyear of their settlement in the woods. 

I have listened with feelings of great interest to the history of thehardships endured by some of the first settlers in the neighbourhood, when Peterborough contained but two dwelling houses. Then there wereneither roads cut nor boats built for communicating with the distant andsettled parts of the district; consequently the difficulties ofprocuring supplies of provisions was very great, beyond what any onethat has lately come hither can form any notion of. 

When I heard of a whole family having had no better supply of flour thanwhat could be daily ground by a small hand-mill, and for weeks beingdestitute of every necessary, not even excepting bread, I could not helpexpressing some surprise, never having met with any account in the worksI had read concerning emigration that at all prepared one for suchevils. 

"These particular trials, " observed my intelligent friend, "are confinedprincipally to the first breakers of the soil in the unsettled parts ofthe country, as was our case. If you diligently question some of thefamilies of the lower class that are located far from the towns, and whohad little or no means to support them during the first twelve months, till they could take a crop off the land, you will hear many sad talesof distress. "

Writers on emigration do not take the trouble of searching out thesethings, nor does it answer their purpose to state disagreeable facts. Few have written exclusively on the "Bush. " Travellers generally make ahasty journey through the long settled and prosperous portions of thecountry; they see a tract of fertile, well-cultivated land, the resultof many years of labour; they see comfortable dwellings, abounding withall the substantial necessaries of life; the farmer's wife makes her ownsoap, candles, and sugar; the family are clothed in cloth of their ownspinning, and hose of their own knitting. The bread, the beer, butter, cheese, meat, poultry, &c. Are all the produce of the farm. Heconcludes, therefore, that Canada is a land of Canaan, and writes a booksetting forth these advantages, with the addition of obtaining land fora mere song; and advises all persons who would be independent and securefrom want to emigrate. 

He forgets that these advantages are the result of long years ofunremitting and patient labour; that these things are the _crown_, notthe _first-fruits_ of the settler's toil; and that during the intervalmany and great privations must be submitted to by almost every class ofemigrants. 

Many persons, on first coming out, especially if they go back into anyof the unsettled townships, are dispirited by the unpromising appearanceof things about them. They find none of the advantages and comforts ofwhich they had heard and read, and they are unprepared for the presentdifficulties; some give way to despondency, and others quit the place indisgust. 

[Illustration: Log-Village--Arrival of a Stage-coach]

A little reflection would have shown them that every rood of land mustbe cleared of the thick forest of timber that encumbers it before an earof wheat can be grown; that, after the trees have been chopped, cut intolengths, drawn together, or _logged_, as we call it, and burned, thefield must be fenced, the seed sown, harvested, and thrashed before anyreturns can be obtained; that this requires time and much labour, and, if hired labour, considerable outlay of ready money; and in the meantime a family must eat. If at a distance from a store, every articlemust be brought through bad roads either by hand or with a team, thehire of which is generally costly in proportion to the distance anddifficulty to be encountered in the conveyance. Now these things arebetter known beforehand, and then people are aware what they have toencounter. 

Even a labouring man, though he have land of his own, is often, I maysay generally, obliged to _hire out_ to work for the first year or two, to earn sufficient for the maintenance of his family; and even so manyof them suffer much privation before they reap the benefit of theirindependence. Were it not for the hope and the certain prospect ofbettering their condition ultimately, they would sink under what theyhave to endure; but this thought buoys them up. They do not fear an oldage of want and pauperism; the present evils must yield to industry andperseverance; they think also for their children; and the trials of thepresent time are lost in pleasing anticipations for the future. 

"Surely, " said I, "cows and pigs and poultry might be kept; and you knowwhere there is plenty of milk, butter, cheese, and eggs, with pork andfowls, persons cannot be very badly off for food. "

"Very true, " replied my friend; "but I must tell you it is easier totalk of these things at first than to keep them, unless on cleared orpartially cleared farms; but we are speaking of a _first_ settlement inthe backwoods. Cows, pigs, and fowls must eat, and if you have nothingto give them unless you purchase it, and perhaps have to bring it fromsome distance, you had better not be troubled with them, as the troubleis certain and the profit doubtful. A cow, it is true, will get herliving during the open months of the year in the bush, but sometimes shewill ramble away for days together, and then you lose the use of her, and possibly much time in seeking her; then in the winter she requiressome additional food to the _browse_* that she gets during the choppingseason, or ten to one but she dies before spring; and as cows generallylose their milk during the cold weather, if not very well kept, it isbest to part with them in the fall and buy again in the spring, unlessyou have plenty of food for them, which is not often the case the firstwinter. As to pigs they are great plagues on a newly cleared farm if youcannot fat them off-hand; and that you cannot do without you buy foodfor them, which does not answer to do at first. If they run loose theyare a terrible annoyance both to your own crops and your neighbours ifyou happen to be within half a mile of one; for though you may fence outcattle you cannot pigs: even poultry require something more than theypick up about the dwelling to be of any service to you, and are oftentaken off by hawks, eagles, foxes, and pole-cats, till you have propersecurities for them. "

[* The cattle are supported in a great measure during the fall andwinter by eating the tender shoots of the maple, beech and bass, whichthey seek in the newly-chopped fallow; but they should likewise beallowed straw or other food, or they will die in the very hard weather. ]

"Then how are we to spin our own wool and make our own soap andcandles?" said I. "When you are able to kill your own sheep, and hogs, and oxen, unless you buy wool and tallow"--then, seeing me begin to looksomewhat disappointed, he said, "Be not cast down, you will have allthese things in time, and more than these, never fear, if you havepatience, and use the means of obtaining them. In the mean while prepareyour mind for many privations to which at present you are a stranger;and if you would desire to see your husband happy and prosperous, becontent to use economy, and above all, be cheerful. In a few years thefarm will supply you with all the necessaries of life, and by and by youmay even enjoy many of the luxuries. Then it is that a settler begins totaste the real and solid advantages of his emigration; then he feels theblessings of a country where there are no taxes, tithes, nor poor-rates;then he truly feels the benefit of independence. It is looking forwardto this happy fulfillment of his desires that makes the rough pathssmooth, and lightens the burden of present ills. He looks round upon anumerous family without those anxious fears that beset a father inmoderate circumstances at home; for he knows he does not leave themdestitute of an honest means of support. "

In spite of all the trials he had encountered, I found this gentlemanwas so much attached to a settler's life, that he declared he would notgo back to his own country to reside for a permanence on any account;nor is he the only one that I have heard express the same opinion; andit likewise seems a universal one among the lower class of emigrants. They are encouraged by the example of others whom they see enjoyingcomforts that they could never have obtained had they laboured ever sohard at home; and they wisely reflect they must have had hardships toendure had they remained in their native land (many indeed had beendriven out by want), without the most remote chance of betteringthemselves or becoming the possessors of land free from allrestrictions. "What to us are the sufferings of one, two, three, or evenfour years, compared with a whole life of labour and poverty, " was theremark of a poor labourer, who was recounting to us the other day someof the hardships he had met with in this country. He said he "knew theywere only for a short time, and that by industry he should soon get overthem. "

I have already seen two of our poor neighbours that left the parish atwelvemonth ago; they are settled in Canada Company lots, and aregetting on well. They have some few acres cleared and cropped, but areobliged to "_hire out_", to enable their families to live, working ontheir own land when they can. The men are in good spirits, and say "theyshall in a few years have many comforts about them that they never couldhave got at home, had they worked late and early; but they complain thattheir wives are always pining for home, and lamenting that ever theycrossed the seas. " This seems to be the general complaint with allclasses; the women are discontented and unhappy. Few enter with theirwhole heart into a settler's life. They miss the little domesticcomforts they had been used to enjoy; they regret the friends andrelations they left in the old country; and they cannot endure theloneliness of the backwoods. 

This prospect does not discourage me: I know I shall find plenty ofoccupation within-doors, and I have sources of enjoyment when I walkabroad that will keep me from being dull. Besides, have I not a right tobe cheerful and contented for the sake of my beloved partner? The changeis not greater for me than him; and if for his sake I have voluntarilyleft home, and friends, and country, shall I therefore sadden him byuseless regrets? I am always inclined to subscribe to that sentiment ofmy favourite poet, Goldsmith, --

"Still to ourselves in every place consign'd, Our own felicity we make or find. "

But I shall very soon be put to the test, as we leave this town to-morrow by ten o'clock. The purchase of the Lake lot is concluded. Thereare three acres chopped and a shanty up; but the shanty is not ahabitable dwelling, being merely an open shed that was put up by thechoppers as a temporary shelter; so we shall have to build a house. Lateenough we are; too late to get in a full crop, as the land is merelychopped, not cleared, and it is too late now to log and burn the fallow, and get the seed-wheat in: but it will be ready for spring crops. Wepaid five dollars and a half per acre for the lot; this was rather highfor wild land, so far from a town, and in a scantily-settled part of thetownship; but the situation is good, and has a water frontage, for whichmy husband was willing to pay something more than if the lot had beenfurther inland. 

In all probability it will be some time before I find leisure again totake up my pen. We shall remain guests with ------ till our house is ina habitable condition, which I suppose will be about Christmas. 

LETTER VII. 

Journey from Peterborough. --Canadian Woods. --Waggon and Team. --Arrivalat a Log-house on the Banks of a Lake. --Settlement and firstOccupations. 

October 25, 1832. 

I SHALL begin my letter with a description of our journey through thebush, and so go on, giving an account of our proceedings both within-doors and with-out. I know my little domestic details will not provewholly uninteresting to you; for well I am assured that a mother's eyeis never weary with reading lines traced by the hand of an absent andbeloved child. 

After some difficulty we succeeded in hiring a waggon and span (i. E. Pair abreast) of stout horses to convey us and our luggage through thewoods to the banks of one of the lakes, where S------ had appointed toferry us across. There was no palpable road, only a blaze on the otherside, encumbered by fallen trees, and interrupted by a great cedarswamp, into which one might sink up to one's knees, unless we took theprecaution to step along the trunks of the mossy, decaying timbers, ormake our footing sure on some friendly block of granite or limestone. What is termed in bush language a _blaze_, is nothing more than notchesor slices cut off the bark of the trees, to mark out the line of road. The boundaries of the different lots are often marked by a blazed tree, also the concession-lines*. These blazes are of as much use as finger-posts of a dark night. 

[* These concession-lines are certain divisions of the townships; theseare again divided into so many lots of 200 acres. The concession-linesused to be marked by a wide avenue being chopped, so as to form a roadof communication between them; but this plan was found too troublesome;and in a few years the young growth of timber so choked the opening, that it was of little use. The lately-surveyed townships, I believe, areonly divided by blazed lines. ]

The road we were compelled to take lay over the Peterborough plains, inthe direction of the river; the scenery of which pleased me much, thoughit presents little appearance of fertility, with the exception of two orthree extensive clearings. 

About three miles above Peterborough the road winds along the brow of asteep ridge, the bottom of which has every appearance of having beenformerly the bed of a lateral branch of the present river, or perhapssome small lake, which has been diverted from its channel, and merged inthe Otanabee. 

On either side of this ridge there is a steep descent; on the right theOtanabee breaks upon you, rushing with great velocity over its rockybed, forming rapids in miniature resembling those of the St. Laurence;its dark, frowning woods of sombre pine give a grandeur to the scenerythat is very impressive. On the left lies below you a sweet secludeddell of evergreens, cedar, hemlock, and pine, enlivened by a fewdeciduous trees. Through this dell there is a road-track leading to afine cleared farm, the green pastures of which were rendered morepleasing by the absence of the odious stumps that disfigure theclearings in this part of the country. A pretty bright stream flowsthrough the low meadow that lies at the foot of the hill, which youdescend suddenly close by a small grist-mill that is worked by thewaters, just where they meet the rapids of the river. 

[Illustration: Road through a Fine Forest]

I called this place "Glen Morrison, " partly from the remembrance of thelovely Glen Morrison of the Highlands, and partly because it was thename of the settler that owned the spot. 

Our progress was but slow on account of the roughness of the road, whichis beset with innumerable obstacles in the shape of loose blocks ofgranite and limestone, with which the lands on the banks of the riverand lakes abound; to say nothing of fallen trees, big roots, mud-holes, and corduroy bridges, over which you go jolt, jolt, jolt, till everybone in your body feels as if it were going to be dislocated. Anexperienced bush-traveller avoids many hard thumps by rising up orclinging to the sides of his rough vehicle. 

As the day was particularly fine, I often quitted the waggon and walkedon with my husband for a mile or so. 

We soon lost sight entirely of the river, and struck into the deepsolitude of the forest, where not a sound disturbed the almost awfulstillness that reigned around us. Scarcely a leaf or bough was inmotion, excepting at intervals we caught the sound of the breezestirring the lofty heads of the pine-trees, and wakening a hoarse andmournful cadence. This, with the tapping of the red-headed and greywoodpeckers on the trunk of the decaying trees, or the shrill whistlingcry of the little striped squirrel, called by the natives "chitmunk, "was every sound that broke the stillness of the wild. Nor was I lesssurprised at the absence of animal life. With the exception of theaforesaid chitmunk, no living thing crossed our path during our longday's journey in the woods. 

In these vast solitudes one would naturally be led to imagine that theabsence of man would have allowed Nature's wild denizens to haveabounded free and unmolested; but the contrary seems to be the case. Almost all wild animals are more abundant in the cleared districts thanin the bush. Man's industry supplies their wants at an easier rate thanseeking a scanty subsistence in the forest. 

You hear continually of depredations committed by wolves, bears, racoons, lynxes, and foxes, in the long-settled parts of the province. In the backwoods the appearance of wild beasts is a matter of much rareroccurrence. 

I was disappointed in the forest trees, having pictured to myself hoarygiants almost primeval with the country itself, as greatly exceeding inmajesty of form the trees of my native isles, as the vast lakes andmighty rivers of Canada exceed the locks and streams of Britain. 

There is a want of picturesque beauty in the woods. The young growth oftimber alone has any pretension of elegance of form, unless I except thehemlocks, which are extremely light and graceful, and of a lovelyrefreshing tint of green. Even when winter has stripped the forest it isstill beautiful and verdant. The young beeches too are pretty enough, but you miss that fantastic bowery shade that is so delightful in ourparks and woodlands at home. 

There is no appearance of venerable antiquity in the Canadian woods. There are no ancient spreading oaks that might be called the patriarchsof the forest. A premature decay seems to be their doom. They areuprooted by the storm, and sink in their first maturity, to give placeto a new generation that is ready to fill their places. 

The pines are certainly the finest trees. In point of size there arenone to surpass them. They tower above all the others, forming a darkline that may be distinguished for many miles. The pines being so muchloftier than the other trees, are sooner uprooted, as they receive thefull and unbroken force of the wind in their tops; thus it is that theground is continually strewn with the decaying trunks of huge pines. They also seem more liable to inward decay, and blasting from lightning, and fire. Dead pines are more frequently met with than any other tree. 

Much as I had seen and heard of the badness of the roads in Canada, Iwas not prepared for such a one as we travelled along this day: indeed, it hardly deserved the name of a road, being little more than an openinghewed out through the woods, the trees being felled and drawn aside, soas to admit a wheeled carriage passing along. 

The swamps and little forest streams, that occasionally gush across thepath, are rendered passable by logs placed side by side. From the ridgyand striped appearance of these bridges they are aptly enough termedcorduroy. 

Over these abominable corduroys the vehicle jolts, jumping from log tolog, with a shock that must be endured with as good a grace as possible. If you could bear these knocks, and pitiless thumpings and bumpings, without wry faces, your patience and philosophy would far exceed mine;--sometimes I laughed because I would not cry. 

Imagine you see me perched up on a seat composed of carpet-bags, trunks, and sundry packages, in a vehicle little better than a great rough dealbox set on wheels, the sides being merely pegged in so that more thanonce I found myself in rather an awkward predicament, owing to the saidsides jumping out. In the very midst of a deep mud-hole out went thefront board, and with the shock went the teamster (driver), who lookedrather confounded at finding himself lodged just in the middle of aslough as bad as the "Slough of Despond. " For my part, as I could do nogood, I kept my seat, and patiently awaited the restoration to order. This was soon effected, and all went on well again till a jolt against ahuge pine-tree gave such a jar to the ill-set vehicle, that one of theboards danced out that composed the bottom, and a sack of flour and bagof salted pork, which was on its way to a settler's, whose clearing wehad to pass in the way, were ejected. A good teamster is seldom takenaback by such trifles as these. 

He is, or should be, provided with an axe. No waggon, team, or any othertravelling equipage should be unprovided with an instrument of thiskind; as no one can answer for the obstacles that may impede hisprogress in the bush. The disasters we met fortunately required butlittle skill in remedying. The sides need only a stout peg, and theloosened planks that form the bottom being quickly replaced, away you goagain over root, stump, and stone, mud-hole, and corduroy; now againstthe trunk of some standing tree, now mounting over some fallen one, withan impulse that would annihilate any lighter equipage than a Canadianwaggon, which is admirably fitted by its very roughness for such roadsas we have in the bush. 

The sagacity of the horses of this country is truly admirable. Theirpatience in surmounting the difficulties they have to encounter, theirskill in avoiding the holes and stones, and in making their footing sureover the round and slippery timbers of the log-bridges, renders themvery valuable. If they want the spirit and fleetness of some of ourhigh-bred blood-horses, they make up in gentleness, strength, andpatience. This renders them most truly valuable, as they will travel insuch places that no British horse would, with equal safety to theirdrivers. Nor are the Canadian horses, when well fed and groomed, at alldeficient in beauty of colour, size, or form. They are not very oftenused in logging; the ox is preferred in all rough and heavy labour ofthis kind. 

Just as the increasing gloom of the forest began to warn us of theapproach of evening, and I was getting weary and hungry, our driver, insome confusion, avowed his belief that, somehow or other, he had missedthe track, though how, he could not tell, seeing there was but one road. We were nearly two miles from the last settlement, and he said we oughtto be within sight of the lake if we were on the right road. The onlyplan, we agreed, was for him to go forward and leave the team, andendeavour to ascertain if he were near the water, and if otherwise, toreturn to the house we had passed and inquire the way. 

After running full half a mile ahead he returned with a dejectedcountenance, saying we must be wrong, for he saw no appearance of water, and the road we were on appeared to end in a cedar swamp, as the fartherhe went the thicker the hemlocks and cedars became; so, as we had nodesire to commence our settlement by a night's lodging in a swamp--where, to use the expression of our driver, the cedars grew as thick ashairs on a cat's back, --we agreed to retrace our steps. 

After some difficulty the lumbering machine was turned, and slowly webegan our backward march. We had not gone more than a mile when a boycame along, who told us we might just go back again, as there was noother road to the lake; and added, with a knowing nod of his head, "Master, I guess if you had known the bush as well as I, you would neverhave been _fule_ enough to turn when you were going just right. Why, anybody knows that _them_ cedars and himlocks grow thickest near the water;so you may just go back for your pains. "

It was dark, save that the stars came forth with more than usualbrilliancy, when we suddenly emerged from the depth of the gloomy forestto the shores of a beautiful little lake, that gleamed the more brightlyfrom the contrast of the dark masses of foliage that hung over it, andthe towering pine-woods that girt its banks. 

Here, seated on a huge block of limestone, which was covered with a softcushion of moss, beneath the shade of the cedars that skirt the lake, surrounded with trunks, boxes, and packages of various descriptions, which the driver had hastily thrown from the waggon, sat your child, inanxious expectation of some answering voice to my husband's long andrepeated halloo. 

But when the echo of his voice had died away we heard only the gurglingof the waters at the head of the rapids, and the distant and hoarsemurmur of a waterfall some half mile below them. 

We could see no sign of any habitation, no gleam of light from the shoreto cheer us. In vain we strained our ears for the plash of the oar, orwelcome sound of the human voice, or bark of some household dog, thatmight assure us we were not doomed to pass the night in the lone wood. 

We began now to apprehend we had really lost the way. To attemptreturning through the deepening darkness of the forest in search of anyone to guide us was quite out of the question, the road being so illdefined that we should soon have been lost in the mazes of the woods. The last sound of the waggon wheels had died away in the distance; tohave overtaken it would have been impossible. Bidding me remain quietlywhere I was, my husband forced his way through the tangled underwoodalong the bank, in hope of discovering some sign of the house we sought, which we had every reason to suppose must be near, though probablyhidden by the dense mass of trees from our sight. 

As I sat in the wood in silence and in darkness, my thoughts graduallywandered back across the Atlantic to my dear mother and to my old home;and I thought what would have been your feelings could you at thatmoment have beheld me as I sat on the cold mossy stone in the profoundstillness of that vast leafy wilderness, thousands of miles from allthose holy ties of kindred and early associations that make home in allcountries a hallowed spot. It was a moment to press upon my mind theimportance of the step I had taken, in voluntarily sharing the lot ofthe emigrant--in leaving the land of my birth, to which, in allprobability, I might never again return. Great as was the sacrifice, even at that moment, strange as was my situation, I felt no painfulregret or fearful misgiving depress my mind. A holy and tranquil peacecame down upon me, soothing and softening my spirits into a calmnessthat seemed as unruffled as was the bosom of the water that laystretched out before my feet. 

My reverie was broken by the light plash of a paddle, and a bright lineof light showed a canoe dancing over the lake: in a few minutes a well-known and friendly voice greeted me as the little bark was moored amongthe cedars at my feet. My husband having gained a projecting angle ofthe shore, had discovered the welcome blaze of the wood fire in the log-house, and, after some difficulty, had succeeded in rousing theattention of its inhabitants. Our coming that day had long been givenup, and our first call had been mistaken for the sound of the ox-bellsin the wood: this had caused the delay that had so embarrassed us. 

We soon forgot our weary wanderings beside the bright fire that blazedon the hearth of the log-house, in which we found S------ comfortablydomiciled with his wife. To the lady I was duly introduced; and, inspite of all remonstrances from the affectionate and careful mother, three fair sleeping children were successively handed out of their cribsto be shown me by the proud and delighted father. 

Our welcome was given with that unaffected cordiality that is sograteful to the heart: it was as sincere as it was kind. All means wereadopted to soften the roughness of our accommodation, which, if theylacked that elegance and convenience to which we had been accustomed inEngland, were not devoid of rustic comfort; at all events they were suchas many settlers of the first respectability have been glad to contentthemselves with, and many have not been half so well lodged as we noware. 

We may indeed consider ourselves fortunate in not being obliged to go atonce into the rude shanty that I described to you as the only habitationon our land. This test of our fortitude was kindly spared us by S------, who insisted on our remaining beneath his hospitable roof till such timeas we should have put up a house on our own lot. Here then we are forthe present _fixed_, as the Canadians say; and if I miss many of thelittle comforts and luxuries of life, I enjoy excellent health andspirits, and am very happy in the society of those around me. 

The children are already very fond of me. They have discovered mypassion for flowers, which they diligently search for among the stumpsand along the lake shore. I have begun collecting, and though the seasonis far advanced, my hortus siccus boasts of several elegant specimens offern; the yellow Canadian violet, which blooms twice in the year, in thespring and fall, as the autumnal season is expressively termed; twosorts of Michaelmas daisies, as we call the shrubby asters, of which thevarieties here are truly elegant; and a wreath of the festoon pine, apretty evergreen with creeping stalks, that run along the ground threeor four yards in length, sending up, at the distance of five or sixinches, erect, stiff, green stems, resembling some of our heaths in thedark, shining, green, chaffy leaves. The Americans ornament theirchimney-glasses with garlands of this plant, mixed with the driedblossoms of the life-everlasting (the pretty white and yellow flowers wecall love-everlasting): this plant is also called festoon-pine. In myrambles in the wood near the house I have discovered a trailing plantbearing a near resemblance to the cedar, which I consider has, withequal propriety, a claim to the name of ground or creeping cedar. 

As much of the botany of these unsettled portions of the country areunknown to the naturalist, and the plants are quite nameless, I take theliberty of bestowing names upon them according to inclination or fancy. But while I am writing about flowers I am forgetting that you will bemore interested in hearing what steps we are taking on our land. 

My husband has hired people to log up (that is, to draw the choppedtimbers into heaps for burning) and clear a space for building our houseupon. He has also entered into an agreement with a young settler in ourvicinity to complete it for a certain sum within and without, accordingto a given plan. We are, however, to call the "bee, " and provide everything necessary for the entertainment of our worthy _hive_. Now you knowthat a "bee, " in American language, or rather phraseology, signifiesthose friendly meetings of neighbours who assemble at your summons toraise the walls of your house, shanty, barn, or any other building: thisis termed a "raising bee. " Then there are logging-bees, husking-bees, chopping-bees, and quilting-bees. The nature of the work to be donegives the name to the bee. In the more populous and long-settleddistricts this practice is much discontinued, but it is highly useful, and almost indispensable to the new settlers in the remote townships, where the price of labour is proportionably high, and workmen difficultto be procured. 

Imagine the situation of an emigrant with a wife and young family, thelatter possibly too young and helpless to render him the leastassistance in the important business of chopping, logging, and building, on their first coming out to take possession of a lot of wild land; howdeplorable would their situation be, unless they could receive quick andready help from those around them. 

This laudable practice has grown out of necessity, and if it has itsdisadvantages, such for instance as being called upon at an inconvenientseason for a return of help, by those who have formerly assisted you, yet it is so indispensable to you that the debt of gratitude ought to becheerfully repaid. It is, in fact, regarded in the light of a debt ofhonour; you cannot be forced to attend a bee in return, but no one thatcan does refuse, unless from urgent reasons; and if you do not find itpossible to attend in person you may send a substitute in a servant orin cattle, if you have a yoke. 

In no situation, and under no other circumstance, does the equalizingsystem of America appear to such advantage as in meetings of this sort. All distinctions of rank, education, and wealth are for the timevoluntarily laid aside. You will see the son of the educated gentlemanand that of the poor artisan, the officer and the private soldier, theindependent settler and the labourer who works out for hire, cheerfullyuniting in one common cause. Each individual is actuated by thebenevolent desire of affording help to the helpless, and exertinghimself to raise a home for the homeless. 

At present so small a portion of the forest is cleared on our lot, thatI can give you little or no description of the spot on which we arelocated, otherwise than that it borders on a fine expanse of water, which forms one of the Otanabee chain of Small Lake. I hope, however, togive you a more minute description of our situation in my next letter. 

For the present, then, I bid you adieu. 

LETTER VIII. 

Inconveniences of first Settlement. --Difficulty of obtaining Provisionsand other necessaries. --Snow-storm and Hurricane. --Indian Summer, andsetting-in of Winter. --Process of clearing the Land. 

November the 20th, 1832. 

OUR log-house is not yet finished, though it is in a state offorwardness. We are still indebted to the hospitable kindness of S------and his wife for a home. This being their first settlement on their landthey have as yet many difficulties, in common with all residents in thebackwoods, to put up with this year. They have a fine block of land, well situated; and S------ laughs at the present privations, to which heopposes a spirit of cheerfulness and energy that is admirably calculatedto effect their conquest. They are now about to remove to a larger andmore commodious house that has been put up this fall, leaving us the useof the old one till our own is ready. 

We begin to get reconciled to our Robinson Crusoe sort of life, and theconsideration that the present evils are but temporary, goes a great waytowards reconciling us to them. 

One of our greatest inconveniences arises from the badness of our roads, and the distance at which we are placed from any village or town whereprovisions are to be procured. 

Till we raise our own grain and fatten our own hogs, sheep, and poultry, we must be dependent upon the stores for food of every kind. Thesesupplies have to be brought up at considerable expense and loss of time, through our beautiful bush roads; which, to use the words of a poorIrish woman, "can't be no worser. " "Och, darlint, " she said, "but theyare just bad enough, and can't be no worser. Och, but they aren't liketo our iligant roads in Ireland. "

You may send down a list of groceries to be forwarded when a team comesup, and when we examine our stores, behold rice, sugar, currants, pepper, and mustard all jumbled into one mess. What think you of a rice-pudding seasoned plentifully with pepper, mustard, and, may be, a littlerappee or prince's mixture added by way of sauce. I think the recipewould cut quite a figure in the Cook's Oracle or Mrs. Dalgairn'sPractice of Cookery, under the original title of a "bush pudding. "

And then woe and destruction to the brittle ware that may chance totravel through our roads. Lucky, indeed, are we if, through the superiorcarefulness of the person who packs them, more than one-half happens toarrive in safety. For such mishaps we have no redress. The storekeeperlays the accident upon the teamster, and the teamster upon the badroads, wondering that he himself escapes with whole bones after ajourney through the bush. 

This is now the worst season of the year;--this, and just after thebreaking up of the snow. Nothing hardly but an ox-cart can travel alongthe roads, and even that with difficulty, occupying two days to performthe journey; and the worst of the matters is, that there are times whenthe most necessary articles of provisions are not to be procured at anyprice. You see, then, that a settler in the bush requires to holdhimself pretty independent, not only of the luxuries and delicacies ofthe table, but not unfrequently even of the very necessaries. 

One time no pork is to be procured; another time there is a scarcity offlour, owing to some accident that has happened to the mill, or for thewant of proper supplies of wheat for grinding; or perhaps the weatherand bad roads at the same time prevent a team coming up, or people fromgoing down. Then you must have recourse to a neighbour, if you have thegood fortune to be near one, or fare the best you can on potatoes. Thepotatoe is indeed a great blessing here; new settlers would otherwise beoften greatly distressed, and the poor man and his family who arewithout resources, without the potatoe must starve. 

Once our stock of tea was exhausted, and we were unable to procure more. In this dilemma milk would have been an excellent substitute, or coffee, if we had possessed it; but we had neither the one nor the other, so weagreed to try the Yankee tea--hemlock sprigs boiled. This proved, to mytaste, a vile decoction; though I recognized some herb in the tea thatwas sold in London at five shillings a pound, which I am certain wasnothing better than dried hemlock leaves reduced to a coarse powder. 

S------ laughed at our wry faces, declaring the potation was excellent;and he set us all an example by drinking six cups of this truly sylvanbeverage. His eloquence failed in gaining a single convert; we could notbelieve it was only second to young hyson. To his assurance that to itsother good qualities it united medicinal virtues, we replied that, likeall other physic, it was very unpalatable. 

"After all, " said S------, with a thoughtful air, "the blessings and theevils of this life owe their chief effect to the force of contrast, andare to be estimated by that principally. We should not appreciate thecomforts we enjoy half so much did we not occasionally feel the want ofthem. How we shall value the conveniences of a cleared farm after a fewyears, when we can realize all the necessaries and many of the luxuriesof life. "

"And how we shall enjoy green tea after this odious decoction ofhemlock, " said I. 

"Very true; and a comfortable frame-house, and nice garden, and pleasantpastures, after these dark forests, log-houses, and no garden at all. "

"And the absence of horrid black stumps, " rejoined I. "Yes, and theabsence of horrid stumps. Depend upon it, my dear, your Canadian farmwill seem to you a perfect paradise by the time it is all undercultivation; and you will look upon it with the more pleasure and pridefrom the consciousness that it was once a forest wild, which, by theeffects of industry and well applied means, has changed to fruitfulfields. Every fresh comfort you realize around you will add to yourhappiness; every improvement within-doors or without will raise asensation of gratitude and delight in your mind, to which those thatrevel in the habitual enjoyment of luxury, and even of the commonestadvantages of civilization, must in a great degree be strangers. Mypass-words are, 'Hope! Resolution! and Perseverance!'"

"This, " said my husband, "is true philosophy; and the more forcible, because you not only recommend the maxim but practise it also. "

I had reckoned much on the Indian summer, of which I had read suchdelightful descriptions, but I must say it has fallen far below myexpectations. Just at the commencement of this month (November) weexperienced three or four warm hazy days, that proved rather close andoppressive. The sun looked red through the misty atmosphere, tinging thefantastic clouds that hung in smoky volumes, with saffron and palecrimson light, much as I have seen the clouds above London look on awarm, sultry spring morning. 

Not a breeze ruffled the waters, not a leaf (for the leaves had notentirely fallen) moved. This perfect stagnation of the air was suddenlychanged by a hurricane of wind and snow that came on without anyprevious warning. I was standing near a group of tall pines that hadbeen left in the middle of the clearing, collecting some beautifulcrimson lichens, S------ not being many paces distant, with his oxendrawing fire-wood. Suddenly we heard a distant hollow rushing sound thatmomentarily increased, the air around us being yet perfectly calm. Ilooked up, and beheld the clouds, hitherto so motionless, moving withamazing rapidity in several different directions. A dense gloomoverspread the heavens. S------, who had been busily engaged with thecattle, had not noticed my being so near, and now called to me to useall the speed I could to gain the house, or an open part of theclearing, distant from the pine-trees. Instinctively I turned towardsthe house, while the thundering shock of trees falling in all directionsat the edge of the forest, the rending of the branches from the pines Ihad just quitted, and the rush of the whirlwind sweeping down the lake, made me sensible of the danger with which I had been threatened. 

The scattered boughs of the pines darkened the air as they whirled aboveme; then came the blinding snow-storm: but I could behold the progressof the tempest in safety, having gained the threshold of our house. Thedriver of the oxen had thrown himself on the ground, while the poorbeasts held down their meek heads, patiently abiding "the pelting of thepitiless storm. " S------, my husband, and the rest of the household, collected in a group, watched with anxiety the wild havoc of the warringelements. Not a leaf remained on the trees when the hurricane was over;they were bare and desolate. Thus ended the short reign of the Indiansummer. 

[Illustration: Newley cleared Land]

I think the notion entertained by some travellers, that the Indiansummer is caused by the annual conflagration of forests by those Indiansinhabiting the unexplored regions beyond the larger lakes is absurd. Imagine for an instant what immense tracts of woods must be yearlyconsumed to affect nearly the whole of the continent of North America:besides, it takes place at that season of the year when the fire isleast likely to run freely, owing to the humidity of the ground from theautumnal rains. I should rather attribute the peculiar warmth and hazyappearance of the air that marks this season, to the fermentation goingon of so great a mass of vegetable matter that is undergoing a state ofdecomposition during the latter part of October and beginning ofNovember. It has been supposed by some persons that a great alterationwill be effected in this season, as the process of clearing the landcontinues to decrease the quantity of decaying vegetation. Nay, I haveheard the difference is already observable by those long acquainted withthe American continent. 

Hitherto my experience of the climate is favourable. The autumn has beenvery fine, though the frosts are felt early in the month of September;at first slightly, of a morning, but towards October more severely. Still, though the first part of the day is cold, the middle of it iswarm and cheerful. 

We already see the stern advances of winter. It commenced very decidedlyfrom the breaking up of the Indian summer. November is not at all likethe same month at home. The early part was soft and warm, the lattercold, with keen frosts and occasional falls of snow; but it does notseem to possess the dark, gloomy, damp character of our BritishNovembers. However, it is not one season's acquaintance with the climatethat enables a person to form any correct judgment of its generalcharacter, but a close observance of its peculiarities and vicissitudesduring many years' residence in the country. 

I must now tell you what my husband is doing on our land. He has let outten acres to some Irish choppers who have established themselves in theshanty for the winter. They are to receive fourteen dollars per acre forchopping, burning, and fencing in that quantity. The ground is to beperfectly cleared of every thing but the stumps: these will take fromseven to nine or ten years to decay; the pine, hemlock, and fir remainmuch longer. The process of clearing away the stumps is too expensivefor new beginners to venture upon, labour being so high that it cannotbe appropriated to any but indispensable work. The working season isvery short on account of the length of time the frost remains on theground. With the exception of chopping trees, very little can be done. Those that understand the proper management of uncleared land, usuallyunderbrush (that is, cut down all the small timbers and brushwood), while the leaf is yet on them; this is piled in heaps, and thewindfallen trees are chopped through in lengths, to be logged up in thespring with the winter's chopping. The latter end of the summer and theautumn are the best seasons for this work. The leaves then become quitedry and sear, and greatly assist in the important business of burningoff the heavy timbers. Another reason is, that when the snow has fallento some depth, the light timbers cannot be cut close to the ground, orthe dead branches and other incumbrances collected and thrown in heaps. 

We shall have about three acres ready for spring-crops, provided we geta good burning of that which is already chopped near the site of thehouse, --this will be sown with oats, pumpkins, Indian corn, andpotatoes: the other ten acres will be ready for putting in a crop ofwheat. So you see it will be a long time before we reap a harvest. Wecould not even get in spring-wheat early enough to come to perfectionthis year. 

We shall try to get two cows in the spring, as they are little expenseduring the spring, summer, and autumn; and by the winter we shall havepumpkins and oat-straw for them. 

LETTER IX. 

Loss of a yoke of Oxen. --Construction of a Log-house. --Glaziers' andCarpenters' work. --Description of new Log-house. --Wild Fruits of theCountry. --Walks on the Ice. --Situation of the House. --Lake, andsurrounding Scenery. 

Lake HouseApril 18, 1833

BUT it is time that I should give you some account of our log-house, into which we moved a few days before Christmas. Many unlooked-fordelays having hindered its completion before that time, I began to thinkit would never be habitable. 

The first misfortune that happened was the loss of a fine yoke of oxenthat were purchased to draw in the house-logs, that is, the logs forraising the walls of the house. Not regarding the bush as pleasant astheir former master's cleared pastures, or perhaps foreseeing some hardwork to come, early one morning they took into their heads to ford thelake at the head of the rapids, and march off, leaving no trace of theirroute excepting their footing at the water's edge. After many days spentin vain search for them, the work was at a stand, and for one month theywere gone, and we began to give up all expectation of hearing any newsof them. At last we learned they were some twenty miles off, in adistant township, having made their way through bush and swamp, creekand lake, back to their former owner, with an instinct that supplied tothem the want of roads and compass. 

Oxen have been known to traverse a tract of wild country to a distanceof thirty or forty miles going in a direct line for their former hauntsby unknown paths, where memory could not avail them. In the dog weconsider it is scent as well as memory that guides him to his far-offhome;--but how is this conduct of the oxen to be accounted for? Theyreturned home through the mazes of interminable forests, where man, withall his reason and knowledge, would have been bewildered and lost. 

It was the latter end of October before even the walls of our house wereup. To effect this we called "a bee. " Sixteen of our neighbourscheerfully obeyed our summons; and though the day was far fromfavourable, so faithfully did our hive perform their tasks, that bynight the outer walls were raised. 

The work went merrily on with the help of plenty of Canadian nectar(whiskey), the honey that our _bees_ are solaced with. Some huge jointsof salt pork, a peck of potatoes, with a rice-pudding, and a loaf as bigas an enormous Cheshire cheese, formed the feast that was to regale themduring the raising. This was spread out in the shanty, in a _very ruralstyle_. In short, we laughed, and called it a _pic-nic in thebackwoods_; and rude as was the fare, I can assure you, great was thesatisfaction expressed by all the guests of every degree, our "_bee_"being considered as very well conducted. In spite of the difference ofrank among those that assisted at the bee, the greatest possible harmonyprevailed, and the party separated well pleased with the day's work andentertainment. 

The following day I went to survey the newly-raised edifice, but wassorely puzzled, as it presented very little appearance of a house. Itwas merely an oblong square of logs raised one above the other, withopen spaces between every row of logs. The spaces for the doors andwindows were not then chopped out, and the rafters were not up. Inshort, it looked a very queer sort of a place, and I returned home alittle disappointed, and wondering that my husband should be so wellpleased with the progress that had been made. A day or two after this Iagain visited it. The _sleepers_ were laid to support the floors, andthe places for the doors and windows cut out of the solid timbers, sothat it had not quite so much the look of a bird-cage as before. 

After the roof was shingled, we were again at a stand, as no boardscould be procured nearer than Peterborough, a long day's journey throughhorrible roads. At that time no saw-mill was in progress; now there is afine one building within a little distance of us. Our flooring-boardswere all to be sawn by hand, and it was some time before any one couldbe found to perform this necessary work, and that at high wages--six-and-sixpence per day. Well, the boards were at length down, but ofcourse of unseasoned timber: this was unavoidable; so as they could notbe planed we were obliged to put up with their rough unsightlyappearance, for no better were to be had. I began to recall to mind theobservation of the old gentleman with whom we travelled from Cobourg toRice Lake. We console ourselves with the prospect that by next summerthe boards will all be seasoned, and then the house is to be turnedtopsy-turvy, by having the floors all relaid, jointed, and smoothed. 

The next misfortune that happened, was, that the mixture of clay andlime that was to plaster the inside and outside of the house between thechinks of the logs was one night frozen to stone. Just as the work wasabout half completed, the frost suddenly setting in, put a stop to ourproceeding for some time, as the frozen plaster yielded neither to firenor to hot water, the latter freezing before it had any effect on themass, and rather making bad worse. Then the workman that was hewing theinside walls to make them smooth, wounded himself with the broad axe, and was unable to resume his work for some time. 

I state these things merely to show the difficulties that attend us inthe fulfilment of our plans, and this accounts in a great measure forthe humble dwellings that settlers of the most respectable descriptionare obliged to content themselves with at first coming to this country, --not, you may be assured, from inclination, but necessity: I could giveyou such narratives of this kind as would astonish you. After all, itserves to make us more satisfied than we should be on casting our eyesaround to see few better off than we are, and many not half socomfortable, yet of equal, and, in some instances, superior pretensionsas to station and fortune. 

Every man in this country is his own glazier; this you will laugh at:but if he does not wish to see and feel the discomfort of broken panes, he must learn to put them in his windows with his own hands. Workmen arenot easily to be had in the backwoods when you want them, and it wouldbe preposterous to hire a man at high wages to make two days' journey toand from the nearest town to mend your windows. Boxes of glass ofseveral different sizes are to be bought at a very cheap rate in thestores. My husband amused himself by glazing the windows of the housepreparatory to their being fixed in. 

To understand the use of carpenter's tools, I assure you, is nodespicable or useless kind of knowledge here. I would strongly recommendall young men coming to Canada to acquire a little acquaintance withthis valuable art, as they will often be put to great inconvenience forthe want of it. 

I was once much amused with hearing the remarks made by a very finelady, the reluctant sharer of her husband's emigration, on seeing theson of a naval officer of some rank in the service busily employed inmaking an axe-handle out of a piece of rock-elm. 

"I wonder that you allow George to degrade himself so, " she said, addressing his father. 

The captain looked up with surprise. "Degrade himself! In what manner, madam? My boy neither swears, drinks whiskey, steals, nor tells lies. "

"But you allow him to perform tasks of the most menial kind. What is henow better than a hedge carpenter; and I suppose you allow him to chop, too?"

"Most assuredly I do. That pile of logs in the cart there was all cut byhim after he had left study yesterday, " was the reply, "I would see my boys dead before they should use an axe like commonlabourers. "

"Idleness is the root of all evil, " said the captain. "How much worsemight my son be employed if he were running wild about streets with badcompanions. "

"You will allow this is not a country for gentlemen or ladies to livein, " said the lady. 

"It is the country for gentlemen that will not work and cannot livewithout, to starve in, " replied the captain bluntly; "and for thatreason I make my boys early accustom themselves to be usefully andactively employed. "

"My boys shall never work like common mechanics, " said the lady, indignantly. 

"Then, madam, they will be good for nothing as settlers; and it is apity you dragged them across the Atlantic. "

"We were forced to come. We could not live as we had been used to do athome, or I never would have come to this horrid country. "

"Having come hither you would be wise to conform to circumstances. Canada is not the place for idle folks to retrench a lost fortune in. Insome parts of the country you will find most articles of provision asdear as in London, clothing much dearer, and not so good, and a badmarket to choose in. "

"I should like to know, then, who Canada is good for?" said she, angrily. 

"It is a good country for the honest, industrious artisan. It is a finecountry for the poor labourer, who, after a few years of hard toil, cansit down in his own log-house, and look abroad on his own land, and seehis children well settled in life as independent freeholders. It is agrand country for the rich speculator, who can afford to lay out a largesum in purchasing land in eligible situations; for if he have anyjudgment, he will make a hundred per cent as interest for his moneyafter waiting a few years. But it is a hard country for the poorgentleman, whose habits have rendered him unfit for manual labour. Hebrings with him a mind unfitted to his situation; and even if necessitycompels him to exertion, his labour is of little value. He has a hardstruggle to live. The certain expenses of wages and living are great, and he is obliged to endure many privations if he would keep withincompass, and be free of debt. If he have a large family, and brings themup wisely, so as to adapt themselves early to a settler's life, why hedoes well for them, and soon feels the benefit on his own land; but ifhe is idle himself, his wife extravagant and discontented, and thechildren taught to despise labour, why, madam, they will soon be broughtdown to ruin. In short, the country is a good country for those to whomit is adapted; but if people will not conform to the doctrine ofnecessity and expediency, they have no business in it. It is plainCanada is not adapted to every class of people. "

"It was never adapted for me or my family, " said the lady, disdainfully. 

"Very true, " was the laconic reply; and so ended the dialogue. 

But while I have been recounting these remarks, I have wandered far frommy original subject, and left my poor log-house quite in an unfinishedstate. At last I was told it was in a habitable condition, and I wassoon engaged in all the bustle and fatigue attendant on removing ourhousehold goods. We received all the assistance we required from ------, who is ever ready and willing to help us. He laughed, and called it a"_moving_ bee;" I said it was a "fixing bee;" and my husband said it wasa "settling bee;" I know we were unsettled enough till it was over. Whata din of desolation is a small house, or any house under suchcircumstances. The idea of chaos must have been taken from a removal ora setting to rights, for I suppose the ancients had their _flitting_, asthe Scotch call it, as well as the moderns. 

Various were the valuable articles of crockery-ware that perished intheir short but rough journey through the woods. Peace to their manes. Ihad a good helper in my Irish maid, who soon roused up famous fires, andset the house in order. 

We have now got quite comfortably settled, and I shall give you adescription of our little dwelling. What is finished is only a part ofthe original plan; the rest must be added next spring, or fall, ascircumstances may suit. 

A nice small sitting-room with a store closet, a kitchen, pantry, andbed-chamber form the ground floor; there is a good upper floor that willmake three sleeping rooms. 

"What a nut-shell!" I think I hear you exclaim. So it is at present; butwe purpose adding a handsome frame front as soon as we can get boardsfrom the mill, which will give us another parlour, long hall, and goodspare bed-room. The windows and glass door of our present sitting-roomcommand pleasant lake-views to the west and south. When the house iscompleted, we shall have a verandah in front; and at the south side, which forms an agreeable addition in the summer, being used as a sort ofouter room, in which we can dine, and have the advantage of cool air, protected from the glare of the sunbeams. The Canadians call theseverandahs "stoups. " Few houses, either log or frame, are without them. The pillars look extremely pretty, wreathed with the luxuriant hop-vine, mixed with the scarlet creeper and "morning glory, " the American namefor the most splendid of major convolvuluses. These stoups are really aconsiderable ornament, as they conceal in a great measure the roughlogs, and break the barn-like form of the building. 

Our parlour is warmed by a handsome Franklin stove with brass gallery, and fender. Our furniture consists of a brass-railed sofa, which servesupon occasion for a bed, Canadian painted chairs, a stained pine table, green and white curtains, and a handsome Indian mat that covers thefloor. One side of the room is filled up with our books. Some large mapsand a few good prints nearly conceal the rough walls, and form thedecoration of our little dwelling. Our bed-chamber is furnished withequal simplicity. We do not, however, lack comfort in our humble home;and though it is not exactly such as we could wish, it is as good as, under existing circumstances, we could have. 

I am anxiously looking forward to the spring, that I may get a gardenlaid out in front of the house; as I mean to cultivate some of thenative fruits and flowers, which, I am sure, will improve greatly byculture. The strawberries that grow wild in our pastures, woods, andclearings, are several varieties, and bear abundantly. They makeexcellent preserves, and I mean to introduce beds of them into mygarden. There is a pretty little wooded islet on our lake, that iscalled Strawberry island, another Raspberry island; they abound in avariety of fruits--wild grapes, raspberries, strawberries, black and redcurrants, a wild gooseberry, and a beautiful little trailing plant thatbears white flowers like the raspberry, and a darkish purple fruitconsisting of a few grains of a pleasant brisk acid, somewhat like inflavour to our dewberry, only not quite so sweet. The leaves of thisplant are of a bright light green, in shape like the raspberry, to whichit bears in some respects so great a resemblance (though it is notshrubby or thorny) that I have called it the "trailing raspberry. "

I suppose our scientific botanists in Britain would consider me veryimpertinent in bestowing names on the flowers and plants I meet with inthese wild woods: I can only say, I am glad to discover the Canadian oreven the Indian names if I can, and where they fail I consider myselffree to become their floral godmother, and give them names of my ownchoosing. 

Among our wild fruits we have plums, which, in some townships, are veryfine and abundant; these make admirable preserves, especially whenboiled in maple molasses, as is done by the American housewives. Wildcherries, also a sort called choke cherries, from their peculiarastringent qualities, high and low-bush cranberries, blackberries, whichare brought by the Squaws in birch baskets, --all these are found on theplains and beaver meadows. The low-bush cranberries are brought in greatquantities by the Indians to the towns and villages. They form astanding preserve on the tea-tables in most of the settlers' houses; butfor richness of flavour, and for beauty of appearance, I admire thehigh-bush cranberries; these are little sought after, on account of thelarge flat seeds, which prevent them from being used as a jam: thejelly, however, is delightful, both in colour and flavour. 

The bush on which this cranberry grows resembles the guelder rose. Theblossoms are pure white, and grow in loose umbels; they are veryornamental, when in bloom, to the woods and swamps, skirting the lakes. The berries are rather of a long oval, and of a brilliant scarlet, andwhen just touched by the frosts are semi-transparent, and look likependent bunches of scarlet grapes. 

I was tempted one fine frosty afternoon to take a walk with my husbandon the ice, which I was assured was perfectly safe. I must confess forthe first half-mile I felt very timid, especially when the ice is sotransparent that you may see every little pebble or weed at the bottomof the water. Sometimes the ice was thick and white, and quite opaque. As we kept within a little distance of the shore, I was struck by theappearance of some splendid red berries on the leafless bushes that hungover the margin of the lake, and soon recognized them to be theaforesaid high-bush cranberries. My husband soon stripped the boughs oftheir tempting treasure, and I, delighted with my prize, hastened home, and boiled the fruit with some sugar, to eat at tea with our cakes. Inever ate any thing more delicious than they proved; the more so perhapsfrom having been so long without tasting fruit of any kind, with theexception of preserves, during our journey, and at Peterborough. 

Soon after this I made another excursion on the ice, but it was not inquite so sound a state. We nevertheless walked on for about three-quarters of a mile. We were overtaken on our return by S------ with ahandsleigh, which is a sort of wheelbarrow, such as porters use, withoutsides, and instead of a wheel, is fixed on wooden runners, which you candrag over the snow and ice with the greatest ease, if ever so heavilyladen. S------ insisted that he would draw me home over the ice like aLapland lady on a sledge. I was soon seated in state, and in anotherminute felt myself impelled forward with a velocity that nearly tookaway my breath. By the time we reached the shore I was in a glow fromhead to foot. 

You would be pleased with the situation of our house. The spot chosen isthe summit of a fine sloping bank above the lake, distant from thewater's edge some hundred or two yards: the lake is not quite a milefrom shore to shore. To the south again we command a different view, which will be extremely pretty when fully opened--a fine smooth basin ofwater, diversified with beautiful islands, that rise like verdant grovesfrom its bosom. Below these there is a fall of some feet, where thewaters of the lakes, confined within a narrow channel between beds oflimestone, rush along with great impetuosity, foaming and dashing up thespray in mimic clouds. 

During the summer the waters are much lower, and we can walk for someway along the flat shores, which are composed of different strata oflimestone, full of fossil remains, evidently of very recent formation. Those shells and river-insects that are scattered loose over the surfaceof the limestone, left by the recession of the waters, are similar tothe shells and insects incrusted in the body of the limestone. I am toldthat the bed of one of the lakes above us (I forget which) is oflimestone; that it abounds in a variety of beautiful river-shells, whichare deposited in vast quantities in the different strata, and also inthe blocks of limestone scattered along the shores. These shells arealso found in great profusion in the soil of the Beaver meadows. When I see these things, and hear of them, I regret I know nothing ofgeology or conchology; as I might then be able to account for manycircumstances that at present only excite my curiosity. 

[Maps: Charts shewing the Interior Navigation of the District ofNewcastle and Upper Canada. ]

Just below the waterfall I was mentioning there is a curious naturalarch in the limestone rock, which at this place rises to a height of tenor fifteen feet like a wall; it is composed of large plates of greylimestone, lying one upon the other; the arch seems like a rent in thewall, but worn away, and hollowed, possibly, by the action of waterrushing through it at some high flood. Trees grow on the top of thisrock. Hemlock firs and cedars are waving on this elevated spot, abovethe turbulent waters, and clothing the stone barrier with a sad butnever-fading verdure. Here, too, the wild vine, red creeper, and poison-elder, luxuriate, and wreathe fantastic bowers above the moss-coveredmasses of the stone. A sudden turn in this bank brought us to a broad, perfectly flat and smooth bed of the same stone, occupying a space offull fifty feet along the shore. Between the fissures of this bed Ifound some rosebushes, and a variety of flowers that had sprung upduring the spring and summer, when it was left dry, and free from theaction of the water. 

This place will shortly be appropriated for the building of a saw andgrist-mill, which, I fear, will interfere with its natural beauty. Idare say, I shall be the only person in the neighbourhood who willregret the erection of so useful and valuable an acquisition to thisportion of the township. 

The first time you send a parcel or box, do not forget to encloseflower-seeds, and the stones of plums, damsons, bullace, pips of thebest kinds of apples, in the orchard and garden, as apples may be raisedhere from seed, which will bear very good fruit without being grafted;the latter, however, are finer in size and flavour. I should be gratefulfor a few nuts from our beautiful old stock-nut trees. Dear old trees!how many gambels have we had in their branches when I was as light ofspirit and as free from care as the squirrels that perched among thetopmost boughs above us. --"Well, " you will say, "the less that sagematrons talk of such wild tricks as climbing nut-trees, the better. "Fortunately, young ladies are in no temptation here, seeing that nothingbut a squirrel or a bear could climb our lofty forest-trees. Even asailor must give it up in despair. 

I am very desirous of having the seeds of our wild primrose and sweetviolet preserved for me; I long to introduce them in our meadows andgardens. Pray let the cottage-children collect some. 

My husband requests a small quantity of lucerne-seed, which he seemsinclined to think may be cultivated to advantage. 

LETTER X. 

Variations in the Temperature of the Weather. --Electrical Phenomenon. --Canadian Winter. --Country deficient in Poetical Associations. --Sugar-making. Fishing Season. --Mode of Fishing. --Duck-shooting. --Family ofIndians. --_Papouses_ and their Cradle-cases. --Indian Manufactures. --_Frogs_. 

Lake House, May the 9th. 1833. 

WHAT a different winter this has been to what I had anticipated. Thesnows of December were continually thawing; on the 1st of January not aflake was to be seen on our clearing, though it lingered in the bush. The warmth of the sun was so great on the first and second days of thenew year that it was hardly possible to endure a cloak, or even shawl, out of doors; and within, the fire was quite too much for us. Theweather remained pretty open till the latter part of the month, when thecold set in severely enough, and continued so during February. The 1stof March was the coldest day and night I ever experienced in my life;the mercury was down to twenty five degrees in the house; abroad it wasmuch lower. The sensation of cold early in the morning was very painful, producing an involuntary shuddering, and an almost convulsive feeling inthe chest and stomach. Our breaths were congealed in hoar-frost on thesheets and blankets. Every thing we touched of metal seemed to freezeour fingers. This excessive degree of cold only lasted three days, andthen a gradual amelioration of temperature was felt. 

During this very cold weather I was surprised by the frequent recurrenceof a phenomenon that I suppose was of an electrical nature. When thefrosts were most intense I noticed that when I undressed, my clothes, which are at this cold season chiefly of woollen cloth, or lined withflannel, gave out when moved a succession of sounds, like the cracklingand snapping of fire, and in the absence of a candle emitted sparks of apale whitish blue light, similar to the flashes produced by cuttingloaf-sugar in the dark, or stroking the back of a black cat: the sameeffect was also produced when I combed and brushed my hair*. 

[* This phenomenon is common enough everywhere when the air is verydry. --Ed. ]

The snow lay very deep on the ground during February, and until the l9thof March, when a rapid thaw commenced, which continued withoutintermission till the ground was thoroughly freed from its hoary livery, which was effected in less than a fortnight's time. The air during theprogress of the thaw was much warmer and more balmy than it usually isin England, when a disagreeable damp cold is felt during that process. 

Though the Canadian winter has its disadvantages, it also has itscharms. After a day or two of heavy snow the sky brightens, and the airbecomes exquisitely clear and free from vapour; the smoke ascends intall spiral columns till it is lost: seen against the saffron-tinted skyof an evening, or early of a clear morning, when the hoar-frost sparkleson the trees, the effect is singularly beautiful. 

I enjoy a walk in the woods of a bright winter-day, when not a cloud, orthe faint shadow of a cloud, obscures the soft azure of the heavensabove; when but for the silver covering of the earth I might lookupwards to the cloudless sky and say, "It is June, sweet June. " Theevergreens, as the pines, cedars, hemlock, and balsam firs, are bendingtheir pendent branches, loaded with snow, which the least motionscatters in a mimic shower around, but so light and dry is it that it isshaken off without the slightest inconvenience. 

The tops of the stumps look quite pretty, with their turbans of snow; ablackened pine-stump, with its white cap and mantle, will often startleyou into the belief that some one is approaching you thus fancifullyattired. As to ghosts or spirits they appear totally banished fromCanada. This is too matter-of-fact country for such supernaturals tovisit. Here there are no historical associations, no legendary tales ofthose that came before us. Fancy would starve for lack of marvellousfood to keep her alive in the backwoods. We have neither fay nor fairy, ghost nor bogle, satyr nor wood-nymph; our very forests disdain toshelter dryad or hamadryad. No naiad haunts the rushy margin of ourlakes, or hallows with her presence our forest-rills. No Druid claimsour oaks; and instead of poring with mysterious awe among our curiouslimestone rocks, that are often singularly grouped together, we referthem to the geologist to exercise his skill in accounting for theirappearance: instead of investing them with the solemn characters ofancient temples or heathen altars, we look upon them with the curiouseye of natural philosophy alone. 

Even the Irish and Highlanders of the humblest class seem to lay asidetheir ancient superstitions on becoming denizens of the woods of Canada. I heard a friend exclaim, when speaking of the want of interest thiscountry possessed, "It is the most unpoetical of all lands; there is noscope for imagination; here all is new--the very soil seems newlyformed; there is no hoary ancient grandeur in these woods; norecollections of former deeds connected with the country. The onlybeings in which I take any interest are the Indians, and they want thewarlike character and intelligence that I had pictured to myself theywould posses. "

This was the lamentation of a poet. Now, the class of people to whomthis country is so admirably adapted are formed of the unlettered andindustrious labourers and artisans. They feel no regret that the landthey labour on has not been celebrated by the pen of the historian orthe lay of the poet. The earth yields her increase to them as freely asif it had been enriched by the blood of heroes. They would not spare theancient oak from feelings of veneration, nor look upon it with regardfor any thing but its use as timber. They have no time, even if theypossessed the taste, to gaze abroad on the beauties of Nature, but theirignorance is bliss. 

After all, these are imaginary evils, and can hardly be considered justcauses for dislike to the country. They would excite little sympathyamong every-day men and women, though doubtless they would have theirweight with the more refined and intellectual members of society, whonaturally would regret that taste, learning, and genius should be thrownout of its proper sphere. 

For myself, though I can easily enter into the feelings of the poet andthe enthusiastic lover of the wild and the wonderful of historic lore, Ican yet make myself very happy and contented in this country. If itsvolume of history is yet a blank, that of Nature is open, and eloquentlymarked by the finger of God; and from its pages I can extract a thousandsources of amusement and interest whenever I take my walks in the forestor by the borders of the lakes. 

But I must now tell you of our sugar-making, in which I take rather anactive part. Our experiment was on a very limited scale, having but onekettle, besides two iron tripods; but it was sufficient to initiate usin the art and mystery of boiling the sap into molasses, and finally themolasses down to sugar. 

The first thing to be done in tapping the maples, is to provide littlerough troughs to catch the sap as it flows: these are merely pieces ofpine-tree, hollowed with the axe. The tapping the tree is done bycutting a gash in the bark, or boring a hole with an auger. The formerplan, as being most readily performed, is that most usually practised. Aslightly-hollowed piece of cedar or elder is then inserted, so as toslant downwards and direct the sap into the trough; I have even seen aflat chip made the conductor. Ours were managed according to rule, youmay be sure. The sap runs most freely after a frosty night, followed bya bright warm day; it should be collected during the day in a barrel orlarge trough, capable of holding all that can be boiled down the sameevening; it should not stand more than twenty-four hours, as it is aptto ferment, and will not grain well unless fresh. 

My husband, with an Irish lad, began collecting the sap the last week inMarch. A pole was fixed across two forked stakes, strong enough to bearthe weight of the big kettle. Their employment during the day wasemptying the troughs and chopping wood to supply the fires. In theevening they lit the fires and began boiling down the sap. 

It was a pretty and picturesque sight to see the sugar-boilers, withtheir bright log-fire among the trees, now stirring up the blazing pile, now throwing in the liquid and stirring it down with a big ladle. Whenthe fire grew fierce, it boiled and foamed up in the kettle, and theyhad to throw in fresh sap to keep it from running over. 

When the sap begins to thicken into molasses, it is then brought to thesugar-boiler to be finished. The process is simple; it only requiresattention in skimming and keeping the mass from boiling over, till ithas arrived at the sugaring point, which is ascertained by dropping alittle into cold water. When it is near the proper consistency, thekettle or pot becomes full of yellow froth, that dimples and rises inlarge bubbles from beneath. These throw out puffs of steam, and when themolasses is in this stage, it is nearly converted into sugar. Those whopay great attention to keeping the liquid free from scum, and understandthe precise sugaring point, will produce an article little if at allinferior to muscovado*. 

[* Good well-made maple-sugar bears a strong resemblance to that calledpowdered sugar-candy, sold by all grocers as a delicate article tosweeten coffee; it is more like maple-sugar in its regularcrystallizations. ]

In general you see the maple-sugar in large cakes, like bees' wax, closeand compact, without showing the crystallization; but it looks morebeautiful when the grain is coarse and sparkling, and the sugar isbroken in rough masses like sugar-candy. 

The sugar is rolled or scraped down with a knife for use, as it takeslong to dissolve in the tea without this preparation. I superintendedthe last part of the process, that of boiling the molasses down tosugar; and, considering it was a first attempt, and without anyexperienced person to direct me, otherwise than the information Iobtained from ------. I succeeded tolerably well, and produced somesugar of a fine sparkling grain and good colour. Besides the sugar, Imade about three gallons of molasses, which proved a great comfort tous, forming a nice ingredient in cakes and an excellent sauce forpuddings. 

The Yankees, I am told, make excellent preserves with molasses insteadof sugar. The molasses boiled from maple-sap is very different from themolasses of the West Indies, both in flavour, colour, and consistency. 

Beside the sugar and molasses, we manufactured a small cask of vinegar, which promises to be good. This was done by boiling five pails-full ofsap down to two, and fermenting it after it was in the vessel with barm;it was then placed near the fire, and suffered to continue there inpreference to being exposed to the sun's heat. 

With regard to the expediency of making maple-sugar, it depends oncircumstances whether it be profitable or not to the farmer. If he haveto hire hands for the work, and pay high wages, it certainly does notanswer to make it, unless on a large scale. One thing in its favour is, that the sugar season commences at a time when little else can be doneon the farm, with the exception of chopping, the frost not beingsufficiently out of the ground to admit of crops being sown; time is, therefore, less valuable than it is later in the spring. 

Where there is a large family of children and a convenient sugar-bush onthe lot, the making of sugar and molasses is decidedly a saving; asyoung children can be employed in emptying the troughs and collectingfire-wood, the bigger ones can tend the kettles and keep up the firewhile the sap is boiling, and the wife and daughters can finish off thesugar within-doors. 

Maple-sugar sells for four-pence and six-pence per pound, and sometimesfor more. At first I did not particularly relish the flavour it gave totea, but after awhile I liked it far better than muscovado, and as asweetmeat it is to my taste delicious. I shall send you a specimen bythe first opportunity, that you may judge for yourself of itsexcellence. 

The weather is now very warm--oppressively so. We can scarcely endurethe heat of the cooking-stove in the kitchen. As to a fire in theparlour there is not much need of it, as I am glad to sit at the opendoor and enjoy the lake-breeze. The insects are already beginning to betroublesome, particularly the black flies--a wicked-looking fly, withblack body and white legs and wings; you do not feel their bite for afew minutes, but are made aware of it by a stream of blood flowing fromthe wound; after a few hours the part swells and becomes extremelypainful. 

These "_beasties_" chiefly delight in biting the sides of the throat, ears, and sides of the cheek, and with me the swelling continues formany days. The mosquitoes are also very annoying. I care more for thenoise they make even than their sting. To keep them out of the house welight little heaps of damp chips, the smoke of which drives them away;but this remedy is not entirely effectual, and is of itself rather anannoyance. 

This is the fishing season. Our lakes are famous for masquinonge, salmon-trout, white fish, black bass, and many others. We often see thelighted canoes of the fishermen pass and repass of a dark night beforeour door. S------ is considered very skilful as a spearsman, and enjoysthe sport so much that he seldom misses a night favourable for it. Thedarker the night and the calmer the water the better it is for thefishing. 

It is a very pretty sight to see these little barks slowly stealing fromsome cove of the dark pine-clad shores, and manoeuvring among theislands on the lakes, rendered visible in the darkness by the blaze oflight cast on the water from the jack--a sort of open grated ironbasket, fixed to a long pole at the bows of the skiff or canoe. This isfilled with a very combustible substance called fat-pine, which burnswith a fierce and rapid flame, or else with rolls of birch-bark, whichis also very easily ignited. 

The light from above renders objects distinctly visible below thesurface of the water. One person stands up in the middle of the boatwith his fish-spear--a sort of iron trident, ready to strike at the fishthat he may chance to see gliding in the still waters, while anotherwith his paddle steers the canoe cautiously along. This sport requires aquick eye, a steady hand, and great caution in those that pursue it. 

I delight in watching these torch-lighted canoes so quietly gliding overthe calm waters, which are illuminated for yards with a bright track oflight, by which we may distinctly perceive the figure of the spearsmanstanding in the centre of the boat, first glancing to one side, then theother, or poising his weapon ready for a blow. When four or five ofthese lighted vessels are seen at once on the fishing-ground, the effectis striking and splendid. 

The Indians are very expert in this kind of fishing; the squaws paddlingthe canoes with admirable skill and dexterity. There is another mode offishing in which these people also excel: this is fishing on the icewhen the lakes are frozen over--a sport that requires the exercise ofgreat patience. The Indian, provided with his tomahawk, with which hemakes an opening in the ice, a spear, his blanket, and a decoy-fish ofwood, proceeds to the place he has fixed upon. Having cut a hole in theice he places himself on hands and knees, and casts his blanket overhim, so as to darken the water and conceal himself from observation; inthis position he will remain for hours, patiently watching the approachof his prey, which he strikes with admirable precision as soon as itappears within the reach of his spear. 

The masquinonge thus caught are superior in flavour to those taken laterin the season, and may be bought very reasonably from the Indians. Igave a small loaf of bread for a fish weighing from eighteen to twentypounds. The masquinonge is to all appearance a large species of thepike, and possesses the ravenous propensities of that fish. 

One of the small lakes of the Otanabee is called Trout Lake, from theabundance of salmon-trout that occupy its waters. The white fish is alsofound in these lakes and is very delicious. The large sorts of fish aremostly taken with the spear, few persons having time for angling in thisbusy country. 

As soon as the ice breaks up, our lakes are visited by innumerableflights of wild fowl: some of the ducks are extremely beautiful in theirplumage, and are very fine-flavoured. I love to watch these prettycreatures, floating so tranquilly on the water, or suddenly rising andskimming along the edge of the pine-fringed shores, to drop again on thesurface, and then remain stationary, like a little fleet at anchor. Sometimes we see an old duck lead out a brood of little ones from amongthe rushes; the innocent, soft things look very pretty, sailing roundtheir mother, but at the least appearance of danger they disappearinstantly by diving. The frogs are great enemies to the young broods;they are also the prey of the masquinonge, and, I believe, of otherlarge fish that abound in these waters. 

The ducks are in the finest order during the early part of the summer, when they resort to the rice-beds in vast numbers, getting very fat onthe green rice, which they eagerly devour. 

The Indians are very successful in their duck-shooting: they fill acanoe with green boughs, so that it resembles a sort of floating island;beneath the cover of these boughs they remain concealed, and are enabledby this device to approach much nearer than they otherwise could do tothe wary birds. The same plan is often adopted by our own sportsmen withgreat success. 

A family of Indians have pitched their tents very near us. On one of theislands in our lake we can distinguish the thin blue smoke of their woodfires, rising among the trees, from our front window, or curling overthe bosom of the waters. 

The squaws have been several times to see me; sometimes from curiosity, sometimes with the view of bartering their baskets, mats, ducks, orvenison, for pork, flour, potatoes, or articles of wearing-apparel. Sometimes their object is to borrow "kettle to cook, " which they arevery punctual in returning. 

Once a squaw came to borrow a washing-tub, but not understanding herlanguage, I could not for some time discover the object of hersolicitude; at last she took up a corner of her blanket, and, pointingto some soap, began rubbing it between her hands, imitated the action ofwashing, then laughed, and pointed to a tub; she then held up twofingers, to intimate it was for two days she needed the loan. 

These people appear of gentle and amiable dispositions; and, as far asour experience goes, they are very honest. Once, indeed, the old hunter, Peter, obtained from me some bread, for which he promised to give a pairof ducks, but when the time came for payment, and I demanded my ducks, he looked gloomy, and replied with characteristic brevity, "No duck--Chippewa (meaning S------, this being the name they have affectionatelygiven him) gone up lake with canoe--no canoe--duck by-and-by. " By-and-byis a favourite expression of the Indians, signifying an indefinite pointof time; may be it means to-morrow, or a week, or month, or it may be ayear, or even more. They rarely give you a direct promise. 

As it is not wise to let any one cheat you if you can prevent it, Icoldly declined any further overtures to bartering with the Indiansuntil my ducks made their appearance. 

Some time afterwards I received one duck by the hands of Maquin, a sortof Indian Flibberty-gibbet: this lad is a hunchbacked dwarf, veryshrewd, but a perfect imp; his delight seems to be tormenting the brownbabies in the wigwam, or teazing the meek deer-hounds. He speaks Englishvery fluently, and writes tolerably for an Indian boy; he usuallyaccompanies the women in their visits, and acts as their interpreter, grinning with mischievous glee at his mother's bad English and myperplexity at not being able to understand her signs. In spite of hisextreme deformity, he seemed to possess no inconsiderable share ofvanity, gazing with great satisfaction at his face in the looking glass. When I asked his name, he replied, "Indian name Maquin, but English name'Mister Walker, ' very good man;" this was the person he was calledafter. 

These Indians are scrupulous in their observance of the Sabbath, andshow great reluctance to having any dealings in the way of trading orpursuing their usual avocations of hunting or fishing on that day. 

The young Indians are very expert in the use of a long bow, with woodenarrows, rather heavy and blunt at the end. Maquin said he could shootducks and small birds with his arrows; but I should think they were notcalculated to reach objects at any great distance, as they appeared veryheavy. 

'Tis sweet to hear the Indians singing their hymns of a Sunday night;their rich soft voices rising in the still evening air. I have oftenlistened to this little choir praising the Lord's name in the simplicityand fervour of their hearts, and have felt it was a reproach that thesepoor half-civilized wanderers should alone be found to gather togetherto give glory to God in the wilderness. 

I was much pleased with the simple piety of our friend the hunterPeter's squaw, a stout, swarthy matron, of most amiable expression. Wewere taking our tea when she softly opened the door and looked in; anencouraging smile induced her to enter, and depositing a brown papouse(Indian for baby or little child) on the ground, she gazed round withcuriosity and delight in her eyes. We offered her some tea and bread, motioning to her to take a vacant seat beside the table. She seemedpleased by the invitation, and drawing her little one to her knee, poured some tea into the saucer, and gave it to the child to drink. Sheate very moderately, and when she had finished, rose, and, wrapping herface in the folds of her blanket, bent down her head on her breast inthe attitude of prayer. This little act of devotion was performedwithout the slightest appearance of pharisaical display, but insingleness and simplicity of heart. She then thanked us with a facebeaming with smiles and good humour; and, taking little Rachel by thehands, threw her over her shoulder with a peculiar sleight that I fearedwould dislocate the tender thing's arms, but the papouse seemed wellsatisfied with this mode of treatment. 

In long journeys the children are placed in upright baskets of apeculiar form, which are fastened round the necks of the mothers bystraps of deer-skin; but the _young_ infant is swathed to a sort of flatcradle, secured with flexible hoops, to prevent it from falling out. Tothese machines they are strapped, so as to be unable to move a limb. Much finery is often displayed in the outer covering and the bandagesthat confine the papouse. 

There is a sling attached to this cradle that passes over the squaw'sneck, the back of the babe being placed to the back of the mother, andits face outward. The first thing a squaw does on entering a house is torelease herself from her burden, and stick it up against the wall orchair, chest, or any thing that will support it, where the passiveprisoner stands, looking not unlike a mummy in its case. I have seen thepicture of the Virgin and Child in some of the old illuminated missals, not unlike the figure of a papouse in its swaddling-clothes. 

The squaws are most affectionate to their little ones. Gentleness andgood humour appear distinguishing traits in the tempers of the femaleIndians; whether this be natural to their characters, the savage state, or the softening effects of Christianity, I cannot determine. Certainlyin no instance does the Christian religion appear more lovely than when, untainted by the doubts and infidelity of modern sceptics, it isdisplayed in the conduct of the reclaimed Indian breaking down thestrong-holds of idolatry and natural evil, and bringing forth the fruitsof holiness and morality. They may be said to receive the truths of theGospel as little children, with simplicity of heart and unclouded faith. 

The squaws are very ingenious in many of their handiworks. We find theirbirch-bark baskets very convenient for a number of purposes. My bread-basket, knife-tray, sugar-basket, are all of this humble material. Whenornamented and wrought in patterns with dyed quills, I can assure you, they are by no means inelegant. They manufacture vessels of birch-barkso well, that they will serve for many useful household purposes, suchas holding water, milk, broth, or any other liquid; they are sewn orrather stitched together with the tough roots of the tamarack or larch, or else with strips of cedar-bark. They also weave very useful sorts ofbaskets from the inner rind of the bass-wood and white ash. 

Some of these baskets, of a coarse kind, are made use of for gatheringup potatoes, Indian corn, or turnips; the settlers finding them verygood substitutes for the osier baskets used for such purposes in the oldcountry. 

The Indians are acquainted with a variety of dyes, with which they stainthe more elegant fancy-baskets and porcupine-quills. Our parlour isornamented with several very pretty specimens of their ingenuity in thisway, which answer the purpose of note and letter-cases, flower-stands, and work-baskets. 

They appear to value the useful rather more highly than the merelyornamental articles that you may exhibit to them. They are very shrewdand close in all their bargains, and exhibit a surprising degree ofcaution in their dealings. The men are much less difficult to trade withthan the women: they display a singular pertinacity in some instances. If they have fixed their mind on any one article, they will come to youday after day, refusing any other you may offer to their notice. One ofthe squaws fell in love with a gay chintz dressing-gown belonging to myhusband, and though I resolutely refused to part with it, all the squawsin the wigwam by turns came to look at "gown, " which they pronouncedwith their peculiarly plaintive tone of voice; and when I said "no gownto sell, " they uttered a melancholy exclamation of regret, and wentaway. 

They will seldom make any article you want on purpose for you. If youexpress a desire to have baskets of a particular pattern that they donot happen to have ready made by them, they give you the usual vaguereply of "by-and-by. " If the goods you offer them in exchange for theirsdo not answer their expectations, they give a sullen and dogged look orreply, "_Car-car_" (no, no), or "_Carwinni_, " which is a still moreforcible negative. But when the bargain pleases them, they signify theirapprobation by several affirmative nods of the head, and a note not muchunlike a grunt; the ducks, fish, venison, or baskets, are placed besideyou, and the articles of exchange transferred to the folds of theircapacious blankets, or deposited in a sort of rushen wallets, not unlikethose straw baskets in which English carpenters carry their tools. 

The women imitate the dresses of the whites, and are rather skilful inconverting their purchases. Many of the young girls can sew very neatly. I often give them bits of silk and velvet, and braid, for which theyappear very thankful. 

I am just now very busy with my garden. Some of our vegetable seeds arein the ground, though I am told we have been premature; there being tenchances to one but the young plants will be cut off by the late frosts, which are often felt through May, and even the beginning of June. 

Our garden at present has nothing to boast of, being merely a spot ofground enclosed with a rough unsightly fence of split rails to keep thecattle from destroying the vegetables. Another spring, I hope to have anice fence, and a portion of the ground devoted to flowers. This springthere is so much pressing work to be done on the land in clearing forthe crops, that I do not like to urge my claims on behalf of a prettygarden. 

The forest-trees are nearly all in leaf. Never did spring burst forthwith greater rapidity than it has done this year. The verdure of theleaves is most vivid. A thousand lovely flowers are expanding in thewoods and clearings. Nor are our Canadian songsters mute: the cheerfulmelody of the robin, the bugle-song of the blackbird and thrush, withthe weak but not unpleasing call of the little bird called _Thitabecec_, and a wren, whose note is sweet and thrilling, fill our woods. 

For my part, I see no reason or wisdom in carping at the good we dopossess, because it lacks something of that which we formerly enjoyed. Iam aware it is the fashion for travellers to assert that our featheredtribes are either mute or give utterance to discordant cries that piercethe ear, and disgust rather than please. It would be untrue were I toassert that our singing birds were as numerous or as melodious on thewhole as those of Europe; but I must not suffer prejudice to rob myadopted country of her rights without one word being spoken in behalf ofher feathered vocalists. Nay, I consider her very frogs have beenbelied: if it were not for the monotony of their notes, I reallyconsider they are not quite unmusical. The green frogs are veryhandsome, being marked over with brown oval shields on the most vividgreen coat: they are larger in size than the biggest of our Englishfrogs, and certainly much handsomer in every respect. Their noteresembles that of a bird, and has nothing of the creek in it. 

The bull-frogs are very different from the greens frogs. Instead ofbeing angry with their comical notes, I can hardly refrain from laughingwhen a great fellow pops up his broad brown head from the margin of thewater, and says, "_Williroo, williroo, williroo_, " to which anotherbull-frog, from a distant part of the swamp, replies, in hoarseraccents, "_Get out, get out, get out_;" and presently a sudden chorus isheard of old and young, as if each party was desirous of out-croakingthe other. 

In my next I shall give you an account of our logging-bee, which willtake place the latter end of this month. I feel some anxiety respectingthe burning of the log-heaps on the fallow round the house, as itappears to me rather a hazardous matter. 

I shall write again very shortly. Farewell, dearest of friends. 

LETTER XI

Emigrants suitable for Canada. --Qualities requisite to ensure success. --Investment of Capital. --Useful Articles to be brought out. --Qualifications and Occupations of a Settler's Family. --Deficiency ofPatience and Energy in some Females. --Management of the Dairy. --Cheese. --Indian Corn, and its Cultivation. --Potatoes. --Rates of Wages. 

August 9, 1833

WITH respect to the various questions, my dear friend, to which yourequest my particular attention, I can only promise that I will do mybest to answer them as explicitly as possible, though at the same time Imust remind you, that brevity in epistolary correspondence is not one ofmy excellencies. If I become too diffuse in describing mere matters offact, you must bear with mine infirmity, and attribute it to my womanlypropensity of over-much talking; so, for your comfort, if your eyes bewearied, your ears will at least escape. 

I shall take your queries in due rotation; first, then, you ask, "Whoare the persons best adapted for bush-settlers?"

To which I reply without hesitation--the poor hard-working, soberlabourers, who have industrious habits, a large family to provide for, and a laudable horror of the workhouse and parish-overseers: this willbear them through the hardships and privations of a first settlement inthe backwoods; and in due time they will realize an honest independence, and be above want, though not work. Artisans of all crafts are betterpaid in village-towns, or long-cleared districts, than as mere bush-settlers. 

"Who are the next best suited for emigration?"

Men of a moderate income or good capital may make money in Canada. Ifthey have judgment, and can afford to purchase on a large scale, theywill double or treble their capital by judicious purchases and sales. But it would be easier for me to point out who are not fit foremigration than who are. 

The poor gentleman of delicate and refined habits, who cannot afford toemploy all the labour requisite to carry on the business of clearing ona tolerable large scale, and is unwilling or incapable of workinghimself, is not fitted for Canada, especially if his habits areexpensive. Even the man of small income, unless he can condescend totake in hand the axe or the chopper, will find, even with prudent andeconomical habits, much difficulty in keeping free from debt for thefirst two or even three years. Many such have succeeded, but thestruggle has been severe. 

But there is another class of persons most unsuited to the woods: theseare the wives and families of those who have once been opulenttradesmen, accustomed to the daily enjoyment of every luxury that moneycould procure or fashion invent; whose ideas of happiness are connectedwith a round of amusements, company, and all the novelties of dress andpleasure that the gay world can offer. Young ladies who have beenbrought up at fashionable boarding schools, with a contempt of everything useful or economical, make very indifferent settlers' wives. Nothing can be more unfortunate than the situations in the woods ofCanada of persons so educated: disgusted with the unpleasant change intheir mode of life, wearied and discontented with all the objects aroundthem, they find every exertion a trouble, and every occupation adegradation. 

For persons of this description (and there are such to be met with inthe colonies), Canada is the worst country in the world. And I wouldurge any one, so unfitted by habit and inclination, under noconsideration to cross the Atlantic; for miserable, and poor, andwretched they will become. 

The emigrant, if he would succeed in this country, must possess thefollowing qualities: perseverance, patience, industry, ingenuity, moderation, self-denial; and if he be a gentleman, a small income isalmost indispensable; a good one is still more desirable. 

The outlay for buying and clearing land, building, buying stock, andmaintaining a family, paying servants' wages, with many otherunavoidable expenses, cannot be done without some pecuniary means; andas the return from the land is but little for the first two or threeyears, it would be advisable for a settler to bring out some hundreds toenable him to carry on the farm and clear the above-mentioned expenses, or he will soon find himself involved in great difficulties. 

Now, to your third query, "What will be the most profitable way ofemploying money, if a settler brought out capital more than was requiredfor his own expenditure?"

On this head, I am not of course competent to give advice. My husbandand friends, conversant with the affairs of the colonies, say, lend iton mortgage, on good landed securities, and at a high rate of interest. The purchase of land is often a good speculation, but not always socertain as mortgage, as it pays no interest; and though it may at somefuture time make great returns, it is not always so easy to dispose ofit to an advantage when you happen to need it. A man possessing manythousand acres in different townships, may be distressed for twentypounds if suddenly called upon for it when he is unprepared, if heinvests all his capital in property of this kind. 

It would be difficult for me to enumerate the many opportunities ofturning ready money to account. There is so little money in circulationthat those persons who are fortunate enough to have it at command can doalmost any thing with it they please. 

"What are the most useful articles for a settler to bring out?"

Tools, a good stock of wearing-apparel, and shoes, good bedding, especially warm blankets; as you pay high for them here, and they arenot so good as you would supply yourself with at a much lower rate athome. A selection of good garden-seeds, as those you buy at the storesare sad trash; moreover, they are pasted up in packets not to be openedtill paid for, and you may, as we have done, pay for little better thanchaff, and empty husks, or old and worm-eaten seeds. This, I am sorry tosay, is a Yankee trick; though I doubt not but John Bull would do thesame if he had the opportunity, as there are rogues in all countriesunder the sun. 

With respect to furniture and heavy goods of any kind, I would recommendlittle to be brought. Articles of hardware are not much more expensivehere than at home, if at all, and often of a kind more suitable to thecountry than those you are at the trouble of bringing; besides, allland-carriage is dear. 

We lost a large package of tools that have never been recovered from theforwarders, though their carriage was paid beforehand to Prescott. It issafest and best to ensure your goods, when the forwarders areaccountable for them. 

You ask, "If groceries and articles of household consumption are dear orcheap?"

They vary according to circumstances and situation. In towns situated inold cleared parts of the country, and near the rivers and navigablewaters, they are cheaper than at home; but in newly-settled townships, where the water-communication is distant, and where the roads are bad, and the transport of goods difficult, they are nearly double the price. Where the supply of produce is inadequate to the demand owing to theinflux of emigrants in thinly-settled places, or other causes, then allarticles of provisions are sold at a high price, and not to be procuredwithout difficulty; but these are merely temporary evils, which sooncease. 

Competition is lowering prices in Canadian towns, as it does in Britishones, and you may now buy goods of all kinds nearly as cheap as inEngland. 

Where prices depend on local circumstances, it is impossible to give anyjust standard; as what may do for one town would not for another, and acontinual change is going on in all the unsettled or half-settledtownships. In like manner the prices of cattle vary: they are cheaper inold settled townships, and still more so on the American side the riveror lakes, than in the Canadas*. 

[* The duties on goods imported to the Canadas are exceedingly small, which will explain the circumstance of many articles of consumptionbeing cheaper in places where there are facilities of transit than athome; while in the Backwoods, where roads are scarcely yet formed, theremust be taken into the account the cost of carriage, and increasednumber of agents; the greater value of capital, and consequent increasedrate of local profit, &c. --items which will diminish in amount as thecountry becomes settled and cleared. --Ed. ]

"What are necessary qualifications of a settler's wife; and the usualoccupations of the female part of a settler's family?" are your nextquestions. 

To the first clause, I reply, a settler's wife should be active, industrious, ingenious, cheerful, not above putting her hand to whateveris necessary to be done in her household, nor too proud to profit by theadvice and experience of older portions of the community, from whom shemay learn many excellent lessons of practical wisdom. 

Like that pattern of all good housewives described by the prudent motherof King Lemuel, it should be said of the emigrant's wife, "She layethher hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. " "She seekethwool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. " "She looketh wellto the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. "

Nothing argues a greater degree of good sense and good feeling than acheerful conformity to circumstances, adverse though they be comparedwith a former lot; surely none that felt as they ought to feel, wouldever despise a woman, however delicately brought up, for doing her dutyin the state of life unto which it may have pleased God to call her. Since I came to this country, I have seen the accomplished daughters andwives of men holding no inconsiderable rank as officers, both naval andmilitary, milking their own cows, making their own butter, andperforming tasks of household work that few of our farmers' wives wouldnow condescend to take part in. Instead of despising these useful arts, an emigrant's family rather pride themselves on their skill in thesematters. The less silly pride and the more practical knowledge thefemale emigrant brings out with her, so much greater is the chance fordomestic happiness and prosperity. 

I am sorry to observe, that in many cases the women that come hithergive way to melancholy regrets, and destroy the harmony of their fire-side, and deaden the energies of their husbands and brothers by constantand useless repining. Having once made up their minds to follow theirhusbands or friends to this country, it would be wiser and better toconform with a good grace, and do their part to make the burden ofemigration more bearable. 

One poor woman that was lamenting the miseries of this country wasobliged to acknowledge that her prospects were far better than they everhad or could have been at home. What, then, was the cause of hercontinual regrets and discontent? I could hardly forbear smiling, whenshe replied, "She could not go to shop of a Saturday night to lay outher husband's earnings, and have a little chat with her _naibors_, whilethe shopman was serving the customers, --_for why?_ there were no shopsin the bush, and she was just dead-alive. If Mrs. Such-a-one (with whom, by the way, she was always quarrelling when they lived under the sameroof) was near her she might not feel quite so lonesome. " And so for thesake of a dish of gossip, while lolling her elbows on the counter of avillage-shop, this foolish woman would have forgone the advantages, realsolid advantages, of having land and cattle, and poultry and food, andfiring and clothing, and all for a few years' hard work, which, herhusband wisely observed, must have been exerted at home, with no otherend in view than an old age of poverty or a refuge from starvation in aparish workhouse. 

The female of the middling or better class, in her turn, pines for thesociety of the circle of friends she has quitted, probably for ever. Shesighs for those little domestic comforts, that display of therefinements and elegancies of life, that she had been accustomed to seearound her. She has little time now for those pursuits that were everher business as well as amusement. The accomplishments she has now toacquire are of a different order: she must become skilled in the arts ofsugar-boiling, candle and soap making, the making and baking of hugeloaves, cooked in the bake-kettle, unless she be the fortunate mistressof a stone or clay oven. She must know how to manufacture _hop-rising_or _salt-rising_ for leavening her bread; salting meat and fish, knitting stockings and mittens and comforters, spinning yarn in the bigwheel (the French Canadian spinning-wheel), and dyeing the yarn whenspun to have manufactured into cloth and coloured flannels, to clotheher husband and children, making clothes for herself, her husband andchildren;--for there are no tailors nor mantua-makers in the bush. 

The management of poultry and the dairy must not be omitted; for in thiscountry most persons adopt the Irish and Scotch method, that of churningthe _milk_, a practice that in our part of England was not known. For myown part I am inclined to prefer the butter churned from cream, as beingmost economical, unless you chance to have Irish or Scotch servants whoprefer buttermilk to new or sweet skimmed milk. 

There is something to be said in favour of both plans, no doubt. Themanagement of the calves differs here very much. Some persons wean thecalf from the mother from its birth, never allowing it to suck at all:the little creature is kept fasting the first twenty-four hours; it isthen fed with the finger with new milk, which it soon learns to takereadily. I have seen fine cattle thus reared, and am disposed to adoptthe plan as the least troublesome one. 

The old settlers pursue an opposite mode of treatment, allowing the calfto suck till it is neatly half a year old, under the idea that itensures the daily return of the cow; as, under ordinary circumstances, she is apt to ramble sometimes for days together, when the herbage growsscarce in the woods near the homesteads, and you not only lose the useof the milk, but often, from distention of the udder, the cow ismaterially injured, at least for the remainder of the milking season. Iam disposed to think that were care taken to give the cattle regularsupplies of salt, and a small portion of food, if ever so little, nearthe milking-place, they would seldom stay long away. A few refusepotatoes, the leaves of the garden vegetables daily in use, set asidefor them, with the green shoots of the Indian corn that are stripped offto strengthen the plant, will ensure their attendance. In the fall andwinter, pumpkins, corn, straw, and any other fodder you may have, withthe browse they get during the chopping and underbrushing season, willkeep them well. 

The weanling calves should be given skimmed milk or buttermilk, with theleafy boughs of basswood and maple, of which they are extremely fond. Awarm shed or fenced yard is very necessary for the cattle during theintense winter frosts: this is too often disregarded, especially in newsettlements, which is the cause that many persons have the mortificationof losing their stock, either with disease or cold. Naturally theCanadian cattle are very hardy, and when taken moderate care of, endurethe severest winters well; but owing to the difficulties that attend afirst settlement in the bush, they suffer every privation of cold andhunger, which brings on a complaint generally fatal, called the "_hollowhorn_;" this originates in the spine, or extends to it, and is cured orpalliated by boring the horn and inserting turpentine, pepper, or otherheating substances. 

When a new comer has not winter food for his cattle, it is wise to sellthem in the fall and buy others in the spring: though at a seeming loss, it is perhaps less loss in reality than losing the cattle altogether. This was the plan my husband adopted, and we found it decidedly thebetter one, besides saving much care, trouble, and vexation. 

I have seen some good specimens of native cheese, that I thought veryrespectable, considering that the grass is by no means equal to ourBritish pastures. I purpose trying my skill next summer: who knows butthat I may inspire some Canadian bard to celebrate the produce of mydairy as Bloomfield did the Suffolk cheese, yclept "Bang. " You rememberthe passage, --for Bloomfield is your countryman as well as mine, --itbegins:

 "Unrivalled stands thy county cheese, O Giles, " &c. 

I have dwelt on the dairy information; as I know you were desirous ofimparting all you could collect to your friends. 

You wish to know something of the culture of Indian corn, and if it be auseful and profitable crop. 

The cultivation of Indian corn on newly cleared lands is very easy, andattended with but little labour; on old farms it requires more. Theearth is just raised with a broad hoe, and three or four corns droppedin with a pumpkin-seed, in about every third or fourth hole, and inevery alternate row; the seed are set several feet apart. The pumpkinsand the corn grow very amicably together, the broad leaves of the formershading the young plants and preventing the too great evaporation of themoisture from the ground; the roots strike little way, so that they robthe corn of a very small portion of nourishment. The one crop trails toan amazing length along the ground, while the other shoots up to theheight of several feet above it. When the corn is beginning to branch, the ground should be hoed once over, to draw the earth a little to theroots, and cut down any weeds that might injure it. This is all that isdone till the cob is beginning to form, when the blind and weak shootsare broken off, leaving four or five of the finest bearing shoots. Thefeather, when it begins to turn brown and dead, should also be takenoff; that the plant may have all the nourishment to the corn. 

We had a remarkable instance of smut in our corn last summer. Thediseased cobs had large white bladders as big as a small puff-ball, orvery large nuts, and these on being broken were full of an inky blackliquid. On the same plants might be observed a sort of falsefructification, the cob being deficient in kernels, which by somestrange accident were transposed to the top feather or male blossoms. Ileave botanists to explain the cause of this singular anomaly; I onlystate facts. I could not learn that the smut was a disease common toIndian corn, but last year smut or dust bran, as it is called by some, was very prevalent in the oat, barley and wheat crops. In this countryespecially, new lands are very subject to the disease. 

The ripe corn is either shocked as beans are at home, or the cobs pulledand braided on ropes after the manner of onions, and hung over poles orbeams in the granaries or barns. The stripping of the corn gives riseamong some people, to what they call a husking-bee, which, like all theother bees, is one of Yankee origin, and is not now so frequentlyadopted among the more independent or better class of settlers. 

The Indian corn is a tender and somewhat precarious crop: it is liableto injury from the late frosts while young, for which reason it is neverput in before the 20th of May, or beginning of June, and even then itwill suffer; it has also many enemies; bears, racoons, squirrels, mice, and birds, and is a great temptation to _breachy_ cattle; who, to comeat it, will even toss down a fence with stakes and riders forprotection, i. E. A pole or cross-bar, supported between crossed stakes, that surmounts the zig-zag rail fences, for better securing them fromthe incursions of cattle. 

Even in Canada this crop requires a hot summer to ripen it perfectly;which makes me think Mr. Cobbett was deceiving the English farmer whenhe recommended it as a profitable crop in England. Profitable and highlyuseful it is under every disadvantage, as it makes the richest andsweetest food for all kinds of granivorous animals, even in its greenstate, and affords sound good food when ripe, or even partially ripe, for fattening beasts and working oxen. 

Last summer was very favourable, and the crops were abundant, but owingto the failure of the two preceding ones, fewer settlers grew it. Oursmall patch turned out very good. The flour makes a substantial sort ofporridge, called by the Americans "_Supporne;_" this is made with water, and eaten with milk, or else mixed with milk; it requires long boiling. Bread is seldom if ever made without a large portion of wheaten flour, mixed with the corn meal. 

With respect to the culture of other grain, I can tell you nothing butwhat every book that treats on emigration will give you. The potatoeinstead of being sown in drills is planted in hills, which are raisedover the sets; this crop requires hoeing. 

With respect to the usual rate of wages, this also differs according tothe populousness of the place: but the common wages now given to anactive able man are from eight to eleven dollars per month; ten isperhaps the general average; from four to six for lads, and three andfour for female servants. You may get a little girl, say from nine totwelve years, for her board and clothing; but this is far from a savingplan, as they soon wear out clothes and shoes thus bestowed. I have oncetried this way, but found myself badly served, and a greater loser thanif I had given wages. A big girl will go out to service for two and twoand a half dollars per month, and will work in the fields also ifrequired, binding after the reapers, planting and hoeing corn andpotatoes. I have a very good girl, the daughter of a Wiltshire emigrant, who is neat and clever, and respectful and industrious, to whom I givethree dollars only: she is a happy specimen of the lower order ofEnglish emigrants, and her family are quite acquisitions to the townshipin which they live. 

I think I have now answered all your queries to the best of my ability;but I would have you bear in mind that my knowledge is confined to asmall portion of the townships along the Otanabee lakes, therefore, myinformation after all, may be but local: things may differ, and dodiffer in other parts of the province, though possibly not verymaterially. 

I must now say farewell. Should you ever feel tempted to try yourfortune on this side the Atlantic, let me assure you of a warm welcometo our Canadian home, from your sincerely attached friend. 

LETTER XII. 

"A Logging Bee. "--Burning of the Log-heaps. --Crops for the Season. --Farming Stock. --Comparative Value of wheat and Labour. --Choice of Land, and relative Advantages. --Clearing Land. --Hurricane in the Woods. --Variable Weather. --Insects. 

November the 2d, 1833. 

MANY thanks, dearest mother, for the contents of the box which arrivedin August. I was charmed with the pretty caps and worked frocks sent formy baby; the little fellow looks delightfully in his new robes, and Ican almost fancy is conscious of the accession to his wardrobe, so proudhe seems of his dress. He grows fat and lively, and, as you may easilysuppose, is at once the pride and delight of his foolish mother's heart. 

His father, who loves him as much as I do myself; often laughs at myfondness, and asks me if I do not think him the ninth wonder of theworld. He has fitted up a sort of rude carriage on the hand-sleigh forthe little fellow--nothing better than a tea-chest, lined with a blackbear-skin, and in this humble equipage he enjoys many a pleasant rideover the frozen ground. 

Nothing could have happened more opportunely for us than the acquisitionof my uncle's legacy, as it has enabled us to make some useful additionsto our farm, for which we must have waited a few years. We have laid outa part of the property in purchasing a fine lot of land adjoining ourhome lot. The quality of our new purchase is excellent, and, from itssituation, greatly enhances the value of the whole property. 

We had a glorious burning this summer after the ground was all loggedup; that is, all the large timbers chopped into lengths, and drawntogether in heaps with oxen. To effect this the more readily we called alogging-bee. We had a number of settlers attend, with yokes of oxen andmen to assist us. After that was over, my husband, with the menservants, set the heaps on fire; and a magnificent sight it was to seesuch a conflagration all round us. I was a little nervous at first onaccount of the nearness of some of the log-heaps to the house, but careis always taken to fire them with the wind blowing in a direction awayfrom the building. Accidents have sometimes happened, but they are ofrarer occurrence than might be expected, when we consider the subtletyand destructiveness of the element employed on the occasion. 

If the weather be very dry; and a brisk wind blowing, the work ofdestruction proceeds with astonishing rapidity; sometimes the fire willcommunicate with the forest and run over many hundreds of acres. This isnot considered favourable for clearing, as it destroys the underbush andlight timbers, which are almost indispensable for ensuring a goodburning. It is, however, a magnificent sight to see the blazing treesand watch the awful progress of the conflagration, as it hurries onward, consuming all before it, or leaving such scorching mementoes as haveblasted the forest growth for years. 

When the ground is very dry the fire will run all over the fallow, consuming the dried leaves, sticks, and roots. Of a night the effect ismore evident; sometimes the wind blows particles of the burning fuelinto the hollow pines and tall decaying stumps; these readily ignite, and after a time present an appearance that is exceedingly fine andfanciful. Fiery columns, the bases of which are hidden by the densesmoke wreaths, are to be seen in every direction, sending up showers ofsparks that are whirled about like rockets and fire-wheels in the wind. Some of these tall stumps, when the fire has reached the summit, looklike gas lamp-posts newly lit. The fire will sometimes continueunextinguished for days. 

After the burning is over the brands are collected and drawn togetheragain to be reburnt; and, strange as it may appear to you, there is nowork that is more interesting and exciting than that of tending the log-heaps, rousing up the dying flames and closing them in, and supplyingthe fires with fresh fuel. 

There are always two burnings: first, the brush heaps, which have lainduring the winter till the drying winds and hot suns of April and Mayhave rendered them sear, are set fire to; this is previous to formingthe log-heaps. 

If the season be dry, and a brisk wind abroad, much of the lightertimber is consumed, and the larger trees reduced during this firstburning. After this is over, the rest is chopped and logged up for thesecond burning: and lastly, the remnants are collected and consumed tillthe ground be perfectly free from all encumbrances, excepting thestanding stumps, which rarely burn out, and remain eye-sores for severalyears. The ashes are then scattered abroad, and the field fenced in withsplit timber; the great work of clearing is over. 

Our crops this year are oats, corn, and pumpkins, and potatoes, withsome turnips. We shall have wheat, rye, oats, potatoes, and corn nextharvest, which will enable us to increase our stock. At present we haveonly a yoke of oxen (Buck and Bright, the names of three-fourths of allthe working oxen in Canada), two cows, two calves, three small pigs, tenhens, and three ducks, and a pretty brown pony: but she is such askilful clearer of seven-railed fences that we shall be obliged to partwith her. _Breachy_ cattle of any kind are great disturbers of publictranquillity and private friendship; for which reason any settler whovalues the good-will of his neighbours would rather part with the bestworking yoke of oxen in the township, than keep them if they prove_breachy_. 

A small farmer at home would think very poorly of our Canadianpossessions, especially when I add that our whole stock of farmingimplements consists of two reaping-hooks, several axes, a spade, and acouple of hoes. Add to these a queer sort of harrow that is made in theshape of a triangle for the better passing between the stumps: this is arude machine compared with the nicely painted instruments of the sort Ihave been accustomed to see used in Britain. It is roughly hewn, and puttogether without regard to neatness; strength for use is all that islooked to here. The plough is seldom put into the land before the thirdor fourth year, nor is it required; the general plan of cropping thefirst fallow with wheat or oats, and sowing grass-seeds with the grainto make pastures, renders the plough unnecessary till such time as thegrass-lands require to be broken up. This method is pursued by mostsettlers while they are clearing bush-land; always chopping and burningenough to keep a regular succession of wheat and spring crops, while theformer clearings are allowed to remain in grass. 

The low price that is now given for grain of every kind, wheat havingfetched only from two shillings and nine-pence to four shillings thebushel, makes the growing of it a matter of less importance than rearingand fatting of stock. Wages bear no proportion to the price of produce;a labourer receives ten and even eleven dollars and board a month, whilewheat is selling at only three shillings, three shillings and six penceor four shillings, and sometimes even still less. The returns are littlecompared with the outlay on the land; nor does the land produce thatgreat abundance that men are apt to look for on newly cleared ground. The returns of produce, however, must vary with the situation andfertility of the soil, which is generally less productive in theimmediate vicinity of the lakes and rivers than a little further backfrom them, the land being either swampy or ridgy, covered with pines andbeset with blocks of limestone and granite, the sub-soil poor and sandy. 

This is the case on the small lakes and on the banks of the Otanabee;the back lots are generally much finer in quality, producing hard wood, such as bass-wood, maple, hickory, butter-nut, oak, beach, and iron-wood; which trees always indicate a more productive soil than the pinetribe. 

In spite of the indifference of the soil the advantage of a waterfrontage is considered a matter of great importance in the purchasing ofland; and, lots with water privileges usually fetch a much higher pricethan those further removed from it. These lands are in general in thepossession of the higher class of settlers, who can afford to paysomething extra for a pretty situation, and the prospect of futureimprovements when the country shall be under a higher state ofcultivation and more thickly settled. 

We cannot help regarding with infinite satisfaction the few acres thatare cleared round the house and covered with crops. A space of this kindin the midst of the dense forest imparts a cheerfulness to the mind, ofwhich those that live in an open country, or even a partially woodedone, can form no idea. The bright sunbeams and the blue and cloudlesssky breaking in upon you, rejoices the eye and cheers the heart as muchas the cool shade of a palm-grove would the weary traveller on the sandywastes of Africa. 

If we feel this so sensibly who enjoy the opening of a lake of fullthree-quarters of a mile in breadth directly in front of our windows, what must those do whose clearing is first opened in the depths of theforest, hemmed in on every side by a thick wall of trees, through theinterminable shades of which the eye vainly endeavours to penetrate insearch of other objects and other scenes; but so dense is the growth oftimber, that all beyond the immediate clearing is wrapped in profoundobscurity. A settler on first locating on his lot knows no more of itsboundaries and its natural features than he does of the northwestpassage. 

Under such disadvantages it is ten chances to one if he chooses the bestsituation on the land for the site of his house. This is a verysufficient reason for not putting up an expensive building till the landis sufficiently cleared to allow its advantages and disadvantages tobecome evident. Many eligible spots often present themselves to the eyeof the settler, in clearing his land, that cause him to regret havingbuilt before he could obtain a better choice of ground. Butcircumstances will seldom admit of delay in building in the bush; adwelling must be raised speedily, and that generally on the firstcleared acre. The emigrant, however, looks forward to some no verydistant period when he shall be able to gratify both his taste and loveof comfort in the erection of a handsomer and better habitation than hislog-house or his shanty, which he regards only in the light of atemporary accommodation. 

On first coming to this country nothing surprised me more than the totalabsence of trees about the dwelling-houses and cleared lands; the axe ofthe chopper relentlessly levels all before him. Man appears to contendwith the trees of the forest as though they were his most obnoxiousenemies; for he spares neither the young sapling in its greenness northe ancient trunk in its lofty pride; he wages war against the forestwith fire and steel. 

There are several sufficient reasons to be given for this seeming wantof taste. The forest-trees grow so thickly together that they have noroom for expanding and putting forth lateral branches; on the contrary, they run up to an amazing height of stem, resembling seedlings on a hot-bed that have not duly been thinned out. Trees of this growth whenunsupported by others are tall, weak, and entirely divested of thosegraces and charms of outline and foliage that would make them desirableas ornaments to our grounds; but this is not the most cogent reason fornot leaving them, supposing some more sightly than others were to befound. 

Instead of striking deep roots in the earth, the forest-trees, with theexception of the pines, have very superficial hold in the earth; theroots running along the surface have no power to resist the wind when itbends the tops, which thus act as a powerful lever in tearing them fromtheir places. 

The taller the tree the more liable it is to being uprooted by storms;and if those that are hemmed in, as in the thickly-planted forests, fall, you may suppose the certain fate of any isolated tree, deprived ofits former protectors, when left to brave and battle with the storm. Itis sure to fall, and may chance to injure any cattle that are within itsreach. This is the great reason why trees are not left in the clearing. Indeed, it is a less easy matter to spare them when chopping than I atfirst imagined, but the fall of one tree frequently brings down two, three; or even more smaller ones that stand near it. A good chopper willendeavour to promote this as much as possible by partly chopping throughsmaller ones in the direction they purpose the larger one to fall. 

I was so desirous of preserving a few pretty sapling beech-trees thatpleased me, that I desired the choppers to spare them; but the only onethat was saved from destruction in the chopping had to pass through afiery ordeal, which quickly scorched and withered up its gay greenleaves: it now stands a melancholy monument of the impossibility ofpreserving trees thus left. The only thing to be done if you desiretrees, is to plant them while young in favourable situations, when theytake deep root and spread forth branches the same as the trees in ourparks and hedge-rows. 

Another plan which we mean to adopt on our land is to leave severalacres of forest in a convenient situation, and chop and draw out the oldtimbers for fire-wood, leaving the younger growth for ornament. Thismethod of preserving a grove of trees is not liable to the objectionsformerly stated, and combines the useful with the ornamental. 

There is a strange excitement created in the mind whilst watching thefelling of one of the gigantic pines or oaks of the forest. Proudly andimmoveably it seems at first to resist the storm of blows that assailits massy trunk, from the united axes of three or even four choppers. Asthe work of destruction continues, a slight motion is perceived--analmost imperceptible quivering of the boughs. Slowly and slowly itinclines, while the loud rending of the trunk at length warns you thatits last hold on earth is gone. The axe of the chopper has performed itsduty; the motion of the falling tree becomes accelerated every instant, till it comes down in thunder on the plain, with a crash that makes theearth tremble and the neighbouring trees reel and bow before it. 

Though decidedly less windy than our British isles, Canada is subject attimes to sudden storms, nearly approaching to what might be termedwhirlwinds and hurricanes. A description of one of these tempests I gaveyou in an early letter. During the present summer I witnessed anotherhurricane, somewhat more violent and destructive in its effect. 

The sky became suddenly overcast with clouds of a highly electricnature. The storm came from the north-west, and its fury appeared to beconfined within the breadth of a few hundred yards. I was watching withsome degree of interest the rapid movements in the lurid, black, andcopper-coloured clouds that were careering above the lake, when I wassurprised by the report of trees falling on the opposite shore, and yetmore so by seeing the air filled with scattered remnants of the pineswithin less than a hundred yards of the house, while the wind wasscarcely felt on the level ground on which I was standing. 

In a few seconds the hurricane had swept over the water, and withirresistible power laid low not less than thirty or forty trees, bendingothers to the ground like reeds. It was an awful sight to see the tallforest rocking and bowing before the fury of the storm, and with thegreat trunks falling one after the other, as if they had been a pack ofcards thrown down by a breath. Fortunately for us the current of thewind merely passed over our open clearing, doing us no further damagethan uprooting three big pine-trees on the ridge above the lake. But inthe direction of our neighbour ------ it did great mischief, destroyingmany rods of fencing, and crushing his crops with the prostrate trunksand scattered boughs, occasioning great loss and much labour to repairthe mischief. 

The upturned roots of trees thrown down by the wind are great nuisancesand disfigurements in clearings, and cause much more trouble to removethan those that have been felled by the axe. Some of the stumps of thesewind-fallen trees will right again if chopped from the trunk soon afterthey have been blown down, the weight of the roots and upturned soilbeing sufficient to bring them back into their former places; we havepursued this plan very frequently. 

We have experienced one of the most changeable seasons this summer thatwas possible. The spring was warm and pleasant, but from the latter partof May till the middle of harvest we had heavy rains, cloudy skies, withmoist hot days, and frequent tempests of thunder and lightning, mostawfully grand, but seemingly less destructive than such storms are athome. Possibly the tall forest-trees divert the danger from the lowdwellings, which are sufficiently sheltered from the effect of thelightning. The autumn has also proved wet and cold. I must say atpresent I do not think very favourably of the climate; however, it isnot right to judge by so short an acquaintance with it, as every onesays this summer has been unlike any of its predecessors. 

The insects have been a sad annoyance to us, and I hailed the approachof the autumn as a respite from their attacks; for these pests arenumerous and various, and no respecters of persons, as I have learnedfrom sad experience. 

I am longing for home-letters; let me hear from you soon. 

Farewell, friends. 

LETTER XIII. 

Health enjoyed in the rigour of Winter. --Inconvenience suffered from thebrightness of the Snow. --Sleighing. --Indian Orthography. --Visit to anIndian Encampment. --Story of an Indian. --An Indian Hunchback. --CanadianOrnithology. 

Lake Cottage, March 14, 1834. 

I RECEIVED your affectionate and interesting letter only last night. Owing to an error in the direction, it had made the round of twotownships before it reached Peterborough; and though it bore as many newdirections as the sailor's knife did new blades and handles, it did atlast reach me, and was not less prized for its travelling dress, beingsomewhat the worse for wear. 

I rejoiced to hear of your returning health and increased happiness--maythey long continue. Your expressions of regret for my exile, as you termmy residence in this country, affected me greatly. Let the assurancethat I am not less happy than when I left my native land, console youfor my absence. If my situation be changed, my heart is not. My spiritsare as light as ever, and at times I feel a gaiety that bids defiance toall care. 

You say you fear the rigours of the Canadian winter will kill me. Inever enjoyed better health, nor so good, as since it commenced. Thereis a degree of spirit and vigour infused into one's blood by the purityof the air that is quite exhilarating. The very snow seems whiter andmore beautiful than it does in our damp, vapoury climate. During a keenbright winter's day you will often perceive the air filled with minutefrozen particles, which are quite dry, and slightly prick your face likeneedle-points, while the sky is blue and bright above you. There is adecided difference between the first snow-falls and those of mid-winter;the first are in large soft flakes, and seldom remain long withoutthawing, but those that fall after the cold has regularly set in aresmaller, drier, and of the most beautiful forms, sometimes pointed likea cluster of rays, or else feathered in the most exquisite manner. 

I find my eyes much inconvenienced by the dazzling glitter of the snowon bright sunny days, so as to render my sight extremely dull andindistinct for hours after exposure to its power. I would stronglyadvise any one coming out to this country to provide themselves withblue or green glasses; and by no means to omit green crape or greentissue veils. Poor Moses' gross of green spectacles would not haveproved so bad a spec. In Canada*. 

[* Oculists condemn coloured spectacles, as injuring weak eyes by theheat which they occasion. Coloured gauze or coloured shades arepreferable. --Ed. ]

Some few nights ago as I was returning from visiting a sick friend, Iwas delighted by the effect produced by the frost. The earth, the trees, every stick, dried leaf, and stone in my path was glittering with mimicdiamonds, as if touched by some magical power; objects the most rude anddevoid of beauty had suddenly assumed a brilliancy that was dazzlingbeyond the most vivid fancy to conceive; every frozen particle sentforth rays of bright light. You might have imagined yourself in Sinbad'svalley of gems; nor was the temperature of the air at all unpleasantlycold. 

I have often felt the sensation of cold on a windy day in Britain farmore severe than I have done in Canada, when the mercury indicated amuch lower degree of temperature. There is almost a trance-likestillness in the air during our frosty nights that lessens theunpleasantness of the sensation. 

There are certainly some days of intense cold during our winter, butthis low temperature seldom continues more than three days together. Thecoldest part of the day is from an hour or two before sunrise to aboutnine o'clock in the morning; by that time our blazing log-fires or metalstoves have warmed the house, so that you really do not care for thecold without. When out of doors you suffer less inconvenience than youwould imagine whilst you keep in motion, and are tolerably well clothed:the ears and nose are the most exposed to injury. 

Gentlemen sometimes make a singular appearance coming in from a longjourney, that if it were not for pity's sake would draw from you asmile;--hair, whiskers, eyebrows, eyelashes, beard, all incrusted withhoar-frost. I have seen young ladies going to evening parties withclustering ringlets, as jetty as your own, changed by the breath ofFather Frost to silvery whiteness; so that you could almost fancy thefair damsels had been suddenly metamorphosed to their ancient grannies;fortunately for youth and beauty such change is but transitory. 

In the towns and populous parts of the province the approach of winteris hailed with delight instead of dread; it is to all a season ofleisure and enjoyment. Travelling is then expeditiously and pleasantlyperformed; even our vile bush-roads become positively very respectable;and if you should happen to be overturned once or twice during a journeyof pleasure, very little danger attends such an event, and very littlecompassion is bestowed on you for your tumble in the snow; so it iswisest to shake off your light burden and enjoy the fun with a goodgrace if you can. 

Sleighing is certainly a very agreeable mode of travelling; the moresnow, the better the sleighing season is considered; and the harder itbecomes, the easier the motion of the vehicle. The horses are alladorned with strings of little brass bells about their necks or middles. The merry jingle of these bells is far from disagreeable, producing alight, lively sound. 

The following lines I copied from the New York Albion for you; I thinkyou will be pleased with them:--

SLEIGH BELLS. 

'Tis merry to hear at evening timeBy the blazing hearth the sleigh-bells chime;To know each bound of the steed brings nearThe form of him to our bosoms dear;Lightly we spring the fire to raise, Till the rafters glow with the ruddy blaze. 

'Tis he--and blithely the gay bells sound, As his steed skims over the frozen ground. Hark! he has pass'd the gloomy wood;He crosses now the ice-bound flood, And sees the light from the open door, To hail his toilsome journey o'er. 

Our hut is small and rude our cheer, But love has spread the banquet here;And childhood springs to be caress'dBy our beloved and welcome guest;With smiling brow his tale he tells, They laughing ring the merry bells. 

From the cedar swamp the wolf may howl, From the blasted pine loud whoop the owl;The sudden crash of the falling treeAre sounds of terror no more to me;No longer I list with boding fear, The sleigh-bells' merry peal to hear*. 

[* This little poem by Mrs. Moodie has since been printed in a volume of"Friendship's Offering, " with some alterations by the editor thatdeprive it a good deal of the simplicity of the original. ]

As soon as a sufficient quantity of snow has fallen all vehicles ofevery description, from the stage-coach to the wheelbarrow, are suppliedwith wooden runners, shod with iron, after the manner of skates. Theusual equipages for travelling are the double sleigh, light waggon, andcutter; the two former are drawn by two horses abreast, but the latter, which is by far the most elegant-looking, has but one, and answers moreto our gig or chaise. 

Wrapped up in buffalo robes you feel no inconvenience from the cold, excepting to your face, which requires to be defended by a warm beaveror fur bonnet; the latter, I am surprised to find, is seldom if everworn, from the nonsensical reason that it is not the fashion. The red, grey, and black squirrels are abundant in our woods; the musk-ratinhabits little houses that he builds in the rushy parts of the lakes:these dwellings are formed of the roots of sedges, sticks, and othermaterials of a similar nature, and plastered with mud, over which athick close thatch is raised to the height of a foot or more above thewater; they are of a round or dome-shape, and are distinctly visiblefrom the shore at some distance. The Indians set traps to ensnare thesecreatures in their houses, and sell their skins, which are very thickand glossy towards winter. The beaver, the bear, the black lynx, andfoxes are also killed, and brought to the stores by the hunters, wherethe skins are exchanged for goods or money. 

The Indians dress the deer-skins for making mocassins, which are greatlysought after by the settlers in these parts; they are very comfortablein snowy weather, and keep the feet very warm, but you require severalwrappings of cloth round the feet before you put them on. I wore abeautiful pair all last winter, worked with porcupine-quills and boundwith scarlet ribbon; these elegant mocassins were the handicraft of anold squaw, the wife of Peter the hunter: you have already heard of himin my former letters. I was delighted with a curious specimen of Indianorthography that accompanied the mocassins, in the form of a note, whichI shall transcribe for your edification:--

SIR, Pleas if you would give something; you must git in ordir in store iswoyth (worth) them mocsin, porcupine quill on et. One dollers foureyard. 

[Illustration: The Prairie]

This curious billet was the production of the hunter's eldest son, andis meant to intimate that if I would buy the mocassins the price was onedollar, or an order on one of the stores for four yards of calico; forso the squaw interpreted its meaning. The order for four yards ofprinted cotton was delivered over to Mrs. Peter, who carefully pinned itwithin the folds of her blanket, and departed well satisfied with thepayment. And this reminds me of our visit to the Indian's camp lastweek. Feeling some desire to see these singular people in their winterencampment, I expressed my wish to S------, who happens to be a grandfavourite with the old hunter and his family; as a mark of a distinctionthey have bestowed on him the title of Chippewa, the name of theirtribe. He was delighted with the opportunity of doing the honours of theIndian wigwam, and it was agreed that he, with some of his brothers andsisters-in-law, who happened to be on a visit at his house, should comeand drink tea with us and accompany us to the camp in the woods. 

A merry party we were that sallied forth that evening into the gloriousstarlight; the snow sparkled with a thousand diamonds on its frozensurface, over which we bounded with hearts as light as hearts could bein this careful world. And truly never did I look upon a lovelier sightthan the woods presented; there had been a heavy fall of snow thepreceding day; owing to the extreme stillness of the air not a particleof it had been shaken from the trees. The evergreens were bendingbeneath their brilliant burden; every twig, every leaf, and spray wascovered, and some of the weak saplings actually bowed down to the earthwith the weight of snow, forming the most lovely and fanciful bowers andarcades across our path. As you looked up towards the tops of the treesthe snowy branches seen against the deep blue sky formed a silvery veil, through which the bright stars were gleaming with a chastenedbrilliancy. 

I was always an admirer of a snowy landscape, but neither in thiscountry nor at home did I ever see any thing so surpassingly lovely asthe forest appeared that night. 

Leaving the broad road we struck into a bye-path, deep tracked by theIndians, and soon perceived the wigwam by the red smoke that issued fromthe open basket-work top of the little hut. This is first formed withlight poles, planted round so as to enclose a circle of ten or twelvefeet in diameter; between these poles are drawn large sheets of birchbark both within and without, leaving an opening of the bare poles atthe top so as to form an outlet for the smoke; the outer walls were alsobanked up with snow, so as to exclude the air entirely from beneath. 

Some of our party, who were younger and lighter of foot than we sobermarried folks, ran on before; so that when the blanket, that served thepurpose of a door, was unfastened, we found a motley group of the darkskins and the pale faces reposing on the blankets and skins that werespread round the walls of the wigwam. 

The swarthy complexions, shaggy black hair, and singular costume of theIndians formed a striking contrast with the fair-faced Europeans thatwere mingled with them, seen as they were by the red and fitful glare ofthe wood-fire that occupied the centre of the circle. The deer-houndslay stretched in indolent enjoyment, close to the embers, while three orfour dark-skinned little urchins were playing with each other, orangrily screaming out their indignation against the apish tricks of thehunchback, my old acquaintance Maquin, that Indian Flibberty-gibbet, whose delight appeared to be in teazing and tormenting the littlepapouses, casting as he did so sidelong glances of impish glee at theguests, while as quick as thought his features assumed an impenetrablegravity when the eyes of his father or the squaws seemed directedtowards his tricks. 

There was a slight bustle among the party when we entered one by onethrough the low blanket-doorway. The merry laugh rang round among ourfriends, which was echoed by more than one of the Indian men, and joinedby the peculiar half-laugh or chuckle of the squaws. "_Chippewa_" wasdirected to a post of honour beside the hunter Peter; and squaw Peter, with an air of great good humour, made room for me on a corner of herown blanket; to effect which two papouses and a hound were sentlamenting to the neighbourhood of the hunchback Maquin. 

The most attractive persons in the wigwam were two Indian girls, oneabout eighteen, Jane, the hunter's eldest daughter, and her cousinMargaret. I was greatly struck with the beauty of Jane; her featureswere positively fine, and though of gipsey darkness the tint ofvermilion on her cheek and lip rendered it, if not beautiful, veryattractive. Her hair, which was of jetty blackness, was soft andshining, and was neatly folded over her forehead, not hanging loose anddisorderly in shaggy masses, as is generally the case with the squaws. Jane was evidently aware of her superior charms, and may be consideredas an Indian belle, by the peculiar care she displayed in thearrangement of the black cloth mantle, bound with scarlet, that wasgracefully wrapped over one shoulder, and fastened at her left side witha gilt brooch. Margaret was younger, of lower stature, and though livelyand rather pretty, yet wanted the quiet dignity of her cousin; she hadmore of the squaw in face and figure. The two girls occupied a blanketby themselves, and were busily engaged in working some most elegantsheaths of deer-skin, richly wrought over with coloured quills andbeads: they kept the beads and quills in a small tin baking-pan on theirknees; but my old squaw (as I always call Mrs. Peter) held herporcupine-quills in her mouth, and the fine dried sinews of the deer, which they make use of instead of thread in work of this sort, in herbosom. 

On my expressing a desire to have some of the porcupine-quills, she gaveme a few of different colour that she was working a pair of mocassinswith, but signified that she wanted "'bead' to work mocsin, " by which Iunderstood I was to give some in exchange for the quills. Indians nevergive since they have learned to trade with white men. 

She was greatly delighted with the praises I bestowed on Jane. She toldme Jane was soon to marry the young Indian who sat on one side of her inall the pride of a new blanket coat, red sash, embroidered powder-pouch, and great gilt clasps to the collar of his coat, which looked as warmand as white as a newly washed fleece. The old squaw evidently feltproud of the young couple as she gazed on them, and often repeated, witha good-tempered laugh, "Jane's husband--marry by and by. "

We had so often listened with pleasure to the Indians singing theirhymns of a Sunday night that I requested some of them to sing to us; theold hunter nodded assent; and, without removing his pipe, with thegravity and phlegm of a Dutchman, issued his commands, which were asinstantly obeyed by the younger part of the community, and a chorus ofrich voices filled the little hut with a melody that thrilled to ourvery hearts. 

The hymn was sung in the Indian tongue, a language that is peculiarlysweet and soft in its cadences, and seems to be composed with manyvowels. I could not but notice the modest air of the girls; as ifanxious to avoid observation that they felt was attracted by their sweetvoices, they turned away from the gaze of the strangers, facing eachother and bending their heads down over the work they still held intheir hands. The attitude, which is that of the Eastern nations; thedress, dark hair and eyes, the olive complexion, heightened colour, andmeek expression of face, would have formed a study for a painter. I wishyou could have witnessed the scene; I think you would not easily haveforgotten it. I was pleased with the air of deep reverence that sat onthe faces of the elders of the Indian family, as they listened to thevoices of their children singing praise and glory to the God and Saviourthey had learned to fear and love. 

The Indians seem most tender parents; it is pleasing to see theaffectionate manner in which they treat their young children, fondly andgently caressing them with eyes overflowing and looks of love. Duringthe singing each papouse crept to the feet of its respective father andmother, and those that were too young to join their voices to the littlechoir, remained quite silent till the hymn was at an end. One littlegirl, a fat brown roly-poly, of three years old, beat time on herfather's knee, and from time to time chimed in her infant voice; sheevidently possessed a fine ear and natural taste for music. 

I was at a loss to conceive where the Indians kept their stores, clothes, and other moveables, the wigwam being so small that thereseemed no room for any thing besides themselves and their hounds. Theiringenuity, however, supplied the want of room, and I soon discovered aplan that answered all the purposes of closets, bags, boxes, &c. , theinner lining of birch-bark being drawn between the poles so as to formhollow pouches all round; in these pouches were stowed their goods; oneset held their stock of dried deer's flesh, another dried fish, a thirdcontained some flat cakes, which I have been told they bake in a waypeculiar to themselves, with hot ashes over and under; for my part Ithink they must be far from palatable so seasoned. Their dressed skins, clothes, materials for their various toys, such as beads, quills, bitsof cloth, silk, with a thousand other miscellaneous articles, occupiedthe rest of these reservoirs. 

Though open for a considerable space at the top, the interior of thewigwam was so hot, I could scarcely breathe, and was constrained tothrow off all my wrappings during the time we staid. Before we went awaythe hunter insisted on showing us a game, which was something after themanner of our cup and ball, only more complicated, and requires moresleight of hand: the Indians seemed evidently well pleased at our wantof adroitness. They also showed us another game, which was a little likenine-pins, only the number of sticks stuck in the ground was greater. Iwas unable to stay to see the little rows of sticks knocked out, as theheat of the wigwam oppressed me almost to suffocation, and I was glad tofeel myself once more breathing the pure air. 

In any other climate one would scarcely have undergone such suddenextremes of temperature without catching a severe cold; but fortunatelythat distressing complaint _catchee le cold_, as the Frenchman termedit, is not so prevalent in Canada as at home. 

Some twenty years ago, while a feeling of dread still existed in theminds of the British settlers towards the Indians, from the remembranceof atrocities committed during the war of independence, a poor woman, the widow of a settler who occupied a farm in one of the then butthinly-settled townships back of the Ontario, was alarmed by the suddenappearance of an Indian within the walls of her log-hut. He had enteredso silently that it was not till he planted himself before the blazingfire that he was perceived by the frightened widow and her little ones, who retreated, trembling with ill-concealed terror to the furthestcorner of the room. 

Without seeming to notice the dismay which his appearance had excited, the Indian proceeded to disencumber himself from his huntingaccoutrements; he then unfastened his wet mocassins, which he hung up todry, plainly intimating his design was to pass the night beneath theirroof, it being nearly dark, and snowing heavily. 

Scarcely daring to draw an audible breath, the little group watched themovements of their unwelcome guest. Imagine their horror when theybeheld him take from his girdle a hunting-knife, and deliberatelyproceed to try its edge. After this his tomahawk and rifle underwent asimilar examination. 

The despair of the horror-stricken mother was now approaching a climax. She already beheld in idea the frightful mangled corpses of her murderedchildren upon that hearth which had so often been the scene of theirinnocent gambols. Instinctively she clasped the two youngest to herbreast at a forward movement of the Indian. With streaming eyes she wasabout to throw herself at his feet, as he advanced towards her with thedreaded weapons in his hands, and implore his mercy for herself and herbabes. What then was her surprise and joy when he gently laid the rifle, knife, and tomahawk beside her, signifying by this action that she hadnothing to fear at his hands*. 

[* It is almost an invariable custom now for the Indians on entering adwelling-house to leave all their weapons, as rife, tomahawk, &c. , outside the door, even if the weather be ever so wet; as they considerit unpolite to enter a family dwelling armed. ]

A reprieve to a condemned criminal at the moment previous to hisexecution was not more welcome than this action of the Indian to thepoor widow. Eager to prove her confidence and her gratitude at the sametime, she hastened to prepare food for the refreshment of the now nolonger dreaded guest; and, assisted by the eldest of her children, putclean sheets and the best blankets on her own bed, which she joyfullydevoted to the accommodation of the stranger. An expressive "Hugh!hugh!" was the only reply to this act of hospitality; but when he wentto take possession of his luxurious couch he seemed sorely puzzled. Itwas evident the Indian had never seen, and certainly never reposed on, an European bed. After a mute examination of the bed-clothes for someminutes, with a satisfied laugh, he sprang upon the bed, and, curlinghimself up like a dog, in a few minutes was sound asleep. 

By dawn of day the Indian had departed; but whenever he came on thehunting-grounds in the neighbourhood of the widow, she was sure to seehim. The children, no longer terrified at his swarthy countenance andwarlike weapons, would gather round his knees, admire the featheredpouch that contained his shot, finger the beautiful embroidered sheaththat held the hunting-knife, or the finely-worked mocassins andleggings; whilst he would pat their heads, and bestow upon them an equalshare of caresses with his deer-hounds. 

Such was the story related to me by a young missionary. I thought itmight prove not uninteresting, as a trait of character of one of thesesingular people. _Chiboya_ (for that was the name of the Indian) was oneof the Chippewas of Rice Lake, most of whom are now converts toChristianity, and making considerable advancement in civilisation andknowledge of agriculture. Hunting and fishing, however, appear to betheir favourite pursuits: for these they leave the comfortable houses atthe Indian villages, and return at stated times to their forest haunts. I believe it is generally considered that their numbers are diminishing, and some tribes have become nearly if not totally extinct in theCanadas*. The race is slowly passing away from the face of the earth, ormingling by degrees with the colonists, till, a few centuries hence, even the names of their tribes will scarcely remain to tell that theyonce existed. 

[* It is stated that the North-West Company had a census of all thetribes, and that the whole Indian population of that immense continentdid not now exceed 100, 000 souls. In a Parliamentary document of 1834, the Indians of Lower Canada are estimated at 3, 437, and those of UpperCanada at 13, 700, which latter number is stated to include those on theshores of Lake Huron, and to the westward. -Ed. ]

When next you send a box or parcel, let me have a few good tracts andhymn-books; as they prize a gift of this sort extremely. I send you ahymn, the one they sang to us in the wigwam; it is the Indiantranslation, and written by the hunter, Peter's eldest son: he wasdelighted when I told him I wanted him to copy it for me, that I mightsend it across the seas to my own country, that English people might seehow well Indians could write. 

[Illustration: Red-bird]

[Illustration: Blue-bird]

The hunchback Maquin has made me a miniature canoe of birch-bark, whichI send; you will prize it as a curiosity, and token of remembrance. Thered and black squirrel-skins are for Jane; the feather fans, and papersof feathers, for Sarah. Tell the latter the next time I send a packethome, she shall have specimens fit for stuffing of our splendid red-bird, which, I am sure, is the Virginian nightingale; it comes in May orApril, and leaves us late in the summer: it exactly corresponds to astuffed Virginian nightingale that I saw in a fine collection ofAmerican birds. The blue-bird is equally lovely, and migrates much aboutthe same time; the plumage is of a celestial blue; but I have never seenone otherwise than upon the wing, so cannot describe it minutely. Thecross-bills are very pretty; the male and female quite opposite incolour, one having a lovely mixture of scarlet and orange on the breastand back, shading into greenish olive and brown; the other more like ouryellowhammer, only it is not quite so bright in colour, though muchsofter, and more innocent-looking: they come to our windows and doors inthe winter as familiarly as your robins. During the winter most of ourbirds depart; even the hollow tapping of the red-headed and the smallspeckled grey and white woodpecker ceases to be heard; the sharpchittering of the squirrel, too, is seldomer distinguished; and silence, awful and unbroken silence, reigns in the forest during the season ofmidwinter. 

I had well nigh forgotten my little favourites, a species of thetitmouse, that does not entirely forsake us. Of a bright warm, sunny daywe see flocks of these tiny birds swinging among the feathery sprigs ofthe hemlocks or shrubby pines on the plains or in the forest; and many atime have I stayed my steps to watch their playful frolics, and listento their gay warbling. I am not quite certain, but I think this is thesame little bird that is known among the natives by the name of Thit-a-be-bee; its note, though weak, and with few changes, is not unpleasing;and we prize it from its being almost the only bird that sings duringthe winter. 

I had heard much of the snow-bunting, but never had seen it till theother day, and then not near enough to mark its form or colours. The daywas one of uncommon brilliancy; the sky cloudless, and the air almostwarm; when, looking towards the lake, I was surprised by the appearanceof one of the pine-trees near the shore: it seemed as if covered withstars of silver that twinkled and sparkled against the blue sky. I wasso charmed by the novelty, that I ran out to observe them nearer; when, to my surprise, my stars all took flight to another tree, where, by theconstant waving and fluttering of their small white wings against thesunlight, they produced the beautiful effect that had at first attractedmy observation: soon all the pines within sight of the window wereilluminated by these lovely creatures. About mid-day they went away, andI have seen them but once since. They never lit on the ground, or anylow tree or bough, for me to examine them nearer. 

Of our singing-birds, the robin; the blackbird, and a tiny bird, likeour common wren, are those I am most intimate with. The Canadian robinis much larger than our dear robin at home; he is too coarse and large abird to realize the idea of our little favourite, "the household-birdwith the red stomacher, " as he is called by Bishop-Carey, in a sonnetaddressed to Elizabeth, the daughter of James I. , on her marriage withthe unfortunate Frederic Prince Palatine. 

The song of the Canadian robin is by no means despicable; its notes areclear, sweet, and various; it possesses the same cheerful livelycharacter that distinguishes the carol of its namesake; but the generalhabits of the bird are very dissimilar. The Canadian robin is lesssociable with man, but more so with his own species: they assemble inflocks soon after the breeding season is over, and appear very amicableone to another; but seldom, if ever, approach very near to our dwelling. The breast is of a pinkish, salmon colour; the head black; the back of asort of bluish steel, or slate colour; in size they are as big as athrush. 

[Illustration: Snow-Bunting]

The blackbird is perhaps our best songster, according to my taste; fullas fine as our English blackbird, and much handsomer in its plumage, which is a glossy, changeable, greenish black. The upper part of thewing of the male bird of full growth is of a lively orange; this is notapparent in the younger birds, nor in the female, which is slightlyspeckled. 

Towards the middle of the summer, when the grain begins to ripen, thesebirds assemble in large flocks: the management of their maraudingparties appears to be superintended by the elders of the family. Whenthey are about to descend upon a field of oats or wheat, two or threemount guard as sentinels, and on the approach of danger, cry _Geck-geck-geck_; this precaution seems a work of supererogation, as they are sosaucy that they will hardly be frightened away; and if they rise it isonly to alight on the same field at a little distance, or fly up to thetrees, where their look-out posts are. 

They have a peculiarly melancholy call-note at times, which soundsexactly like the sudden twang of a harp-string, vibrating for a secondor two on the ear. This, I am inclined to think, they use to collecttheir distant comrades, as I have never observed it when they were allin full assembly, but when a few were sitting in some tree near thelake's edge. I have called them the "_harpers_" from this peculiar note. I shall tire you with my ornithological sketches, but must enumerate twoor three more birds. 

The bald eagle frequently flies over our clearing; it has a dark body, and snow-white head. It is sometimes troublesome to the poultry-yards:those we have seen have disdained such low game, and soared majesticallyaway across the lake. 

The fish-hawk we occasionally see skimming the surface of the water, andit is regarded as an enemy by those who take delight in spearing fishupon the lakes. 

Then we have the night or mosquito-hawk, which may be seen in the airpursuing the insect tribe in the higher regions, whilst hundreds ofgreat dragonflies pursue them below; notwithstanding their assistance, we are bitten mercilessly by those summer pests the mosquitoes and blackflies. 

The red-headed woodpecker is very splendid; the head and neck being of arich crimson; the back, wings, and breast are divided between the mostsnowy white and jetty black. The incessant tapping of the woodpeckers, and the discordant shriek of the blue jay, are heard from sunrise tosunset, as soon as the spring is fairly set in. 

I found a little family of woodpeckers last spring comfortably nested inan old pine, between the bark and the trunk of the tree, where theformer had started away, and left a hollow space, in which the old birdshad built a soft but careless sort of nest; the little creatures seemedvery happy, poking their funny bare heads out to greet the old ones, whowere knocking away at the old stumps in their neighbourhood to supplytheir cravings, as busy as so many carpenters at work. 

[Illustration: Baltimore Oriole defending her Nest against the BlackSnake. ]

A very curious bird's-nest was given me by one of our choppers; it waswoven over a forked spray, so that it had all the appearance of havingbeen sewn to the bough with grey thread. The nest was only secured atthe two sides that formed the angle, but so strong was it fastened thatit seemed to resist any weight or pressure of a moderate kind; it wascomposed of the fibres of the bass-wood bark; which are very thready, and may be drawn to great fineness: on the whole it was a curiousspecimen of the ingenuity of these admirable little architects. I couldnot discover the builder; but rather suspect the nest to have belongedto my protege, the little winter titmouse that I told you of. 

The nest of the Canadian robin, which I discovered while seeking for ahen's nest in a bush-heap, just at the further edge of the clearing, isvery much like our home-robin's, allowing something for difference ofsize in the bird, and in the material; the eggs, five in number, weredeep blue. 

Before I quit the subject of birds, I must recall to your remembrancethe little houses that the Americans build for the swallow; I have sincefound out one of their great reasons for cherishing this useful bird. Itappears that a most rooted antipathy exists between this species and thehawk tribe, and no hawk will abide their neighbourhood; as they pursuethem for miles, annoying them in every possible way, haunting the hawklike its evil genius: it is most singular that so small a creatureshould thus overcome one that is the formidable enemy of so many of thefeathered race. I should have been somewhat sceptical on the subject, had I not myself been an eyewitness to the fact. I was looking out of mywindow one bright summer-day, when I noticed a hawk of a largedescription flying heavily along the lake, uttering cries of distress;within a yard or two of it was a small--in the distance it appeared tome a very small--bird pursuing it closely, and also screaming. I watchedthis strange pair till the pine-wood hid them from my sight; and I oftenmarvelled at the circumstance, till a very intelligent French Canadiantraveller happened to name the fact, and said so great was the valueplaced on these birds, that they had been sold at high prices to be sentto different parts of the province. They never forsake their old hauntswhen once naturalized, the same pairs constantly returning year afteryear, to their old house. 

The singular fact of these swallows driving the hawk from his haunts isworthy of attention; as it is well authenticated, and adds one more tothe many interesting and surprising anecdotes recorded by naturalists ofthe sagacity and instinct of these birds. 

I have, however, scribbled so many sheets, that I fear my long lettermust weary you. 

Adieu. 

LETTER XIV. 

Utility of Botanical Knowledge. --The Fire-Weed. --Sarsaparilla Plants. --Magnificent Water-Lily. --Rice Beds. --Indian Strawberry. --ScarletColumbine. --Ferns. --Grasses. 

July 13, 1834

OUR winter broke up unusually early this year: by the end of Februarythe ground was quite free from snow, and the weather continued allthrough March mild and pleasant, though not so warm as the precedingyear, and certainly more variable. By the last week in April and thebeginning of May, the forest-trees had all burst into leaf, with abrilliancy of green that was exquisitely lovely. 

On the 14th, 15th, and 16th of May, the air became suddenly cold, withsharp winds from the north-west, and heavy storms of snow that nippedthe young buds, and destroyed many of the early-sown vegetable seeds;fortunately for us we were behindhand with ours, which was very well, asit happened. 

Our woods and clearings are now full of beautiful flowers. You will beable to form some idea of them from the dried specimens that I send you. You will recognize among them many of the cherished pets of our gardensand green-houses, which are here flung carelessly from Nature's lavishhand among our woods and wilds. 

How often do I wish you were beside me in my rambles among the woods andclearings: you would be so delighted in searching out the floraltreasures of the place. 

Deeply do I now regret having so idly neglected your kind offers whileat home of instructing me in flower-painting; you often told me the timewould come when I should have cause to regret neglecting the goldenopportunity before me. 

You proved a true prophetess; for I daily lament that I cannot makefaithful representations of the flowers of my adopted country, orunderstand as you would do their botanical arrangement. With some few Ihave made myself acquainted, but have hardly confidence in my scantystock of knowledge to venture on scientific descriptions, when I feelconscious that a blunder would be easily detected, and expose me toridicule and contempt, for an assumption of knowledge that I did notpossess. The only botanical work I have at my command is Pursh's NorthAmerican Flora, from which I have obtained some information; but mustconfess it is tiresome blundering out Latin descriptions to one whoknows nothing of Latin beyond what she derives through a knowledge ofItalian. 

I have made out a list of the plants most worthy of attention near us;there are many others in the township that I am a stranger to; somethere are with whose names I am unacquainted. I subjoin a slight sketch, not with my pencil but my pen, of those flowers that pleased meparticularly, or that possessed any remarkable qualities. 

The same plants do not grow on cleared land that formerly occupied thesame spot when it was covered with forest-trees. A distinct class ofvegetation makes its appearance as soon as the fire has passed over theground. 

The same thing may be remarked with regard to the change that takesplace among our forests. As one generation falls and decays, new ones ofa different character spring up in their places. This is illustrated inthe circumstance of the resinous substance called fat-pine being usuallyfound in places where the living pine is least abundant, and where theground is occupied by oak, ash, buck, maple, and bass-wood. 

The fire-weed, a species of tall thistle of rank and unpleasant scent, is the first plant that appears when the ground has been freed fromtimbers by fire: if a piece of land lies untilled the first summer afterits being chopped, the following spring shows you a smothering crop ofthis vile weed. The next plant you notice is the sumach, with its downystalks, and head of deep crimson velvety flowers, forming an uprightobtuse bunch at the extremity of the branches: the leaves turn scarlettowards the latter end of the summer. This shrub, though really veryornamental, is regarded as a great pest in old clearings, where theroots run and send up suckers in abundance. The raspberry and wildgooseberry are next seen, and thousands of strawberry plants ofdifferent varieties carpet the ground, and mingle with the grasses ofthe pastures. I have been obliged this spring to root out withremorseless hand hundreds of sarsaparilla plants, and also thecelebrated gingseng, which grows abundantly in our woods: it usedformerly to be an article of export to China from the States, the rootbeing held in high estimation by the Chinese. 

Last week I noticed a succulent plant that made its appearance on a drysandy path in my garden; it seems to me a variety of the hour-blowingmesembryanthium. It has increased so rapidly that it already covers alarge space; the branches converging from the centre of the plant; andsending forth shoots from every joint. The leaves are rather small, three-sided and pointed, thick and juicy, yielding a green liquor whenbruised like the common sedums. The stalks are thick and round, of abright red, and trail along the ground; the leaves spring from eachjoint, and with them a constant succession of yellow starry flowers, that close in an hour or so from the time they first unfold. I shallsend you some of the seed of this plant, as I perceived a number oflittle green pods that looked like the buds, but which, on opening, proved to be the seed-vessels. This plant covers the earth like a thickmat, and, I am told, is rather troublesome where it likes the soil. 

I regret that among my dried plants I could not preserve some specimensof our superb water-lilies and irises; but they were too large and toojuicy to dry well. As I cannot send you my favourites, I must describethem to you. 

The first, then, is a magnificent water-lily, that I have called by wayof distinction the "queen of the lakes, " for she sits a crown upon thewaters. This magnificent flower is about the size of a moderately largedahlia; it is double to the heart; every row of petals diminishing bydegrees in size, and gradually deepening in tint from the purest whiteto the brightest lemon colour. The buds are very lovely, and may be seenbelow the surface of the water, in different stages of forwardness fromthe closely-folded bud, wrapped in its olive-green calix, to the half-blown flower, ready to emerge from its watery prison, and in all itsvirgin beauty expand its snowy bosom to the sun and genial air. Nor isthe beauty of the flower its sole attraction: when unfolded it gives outa rich perfume not unlike the smell of fresh lemons. The leaves are alsoworthy of attention: at first they are of a fine dark green, but as theflower decays, the leaf changes its hue to a vivid crimson. Where alarge bed of these lilies grow closely together, they give quite asanguine appearance to the waters, that is distinguishable at somedistance. 

The yellow species of this plant is also very handsome, though it wantsthe silken texture and delicate colour of the former; I call this the"water-king. " The flower presents a deep golden-coloured cup, theconcave petals of which are clouded in the centre with a dark reddish-brown, that forms a striking contrast to the gay anthers, which are verynumerous, and turn back from the centre of the flower, falling likefringes of gold one over the other, in successive rows, till they fillup the hollow flower-cup. 

The shallows of our lakes abound with a variety of elegant aquaticplants: I know not a more lovely sight than one of these floatinggardens. Here you shall behold near the shore a bed of azure fleur-de-lis, from the palest pearl colour varying to the darkest purple. Nearerin shore, in the shallowest water, the rose-coloured persecaria sends upits beautiful spikes trailing below the surface; you see the red stalksand smooth dark green leaves veined underneath with rosy red: it is avery charming variety of this beautiful species of plants. Then a bed ofmy favourite white lilies, all in full bloom, floating on the water, with their double flowers expanding to the sun; near these, and risingin stately pride, a tall plant, with dark green spear-shaped leaves, andthick spike of bright blue flowers, is seen. I cannot discover the nameof this very grand-looking flower, and I neglected to examine itsbotanical construction; so can give you no clue by which to discover itsname or species. 

Our rice-beds are far from being unworthy of admiration; seen from adistance they look like low green islands on the lakes: on passingthrough one of these rice-beds when the rice is in flower, it has abeautiful appearance with its broad grassy leaves and light wavingspikes, garnished with pale yellow green blossoms, delicately shadedwith reddish purple, from beneath which fall three elegant straw-coloured anthers, which move with every breath of air or slightestmotion of the waters. I gathered several spikes when only just opened, but the tiresome things fell to pieces directly they became dry. Nextsummer I will make another attempt at preserving them, and it may bewith better success. 

The low shore of the lake is a complete shrubbery. We have a very prettySt. John's-wort, with handsome yellow flowers. The white and pink spiralfrutex also abounds with some exquisite upright honeysuckles, shrubbyplants about three feet in height; the blossoms grow in pairs or byfours, and hang beneath the light green leaves; elegant trumpet-shapedflowers of a delicate greenish white, which are succeeded by ruby-coloured berries. On gathering a branch of this plant, you cannot but bestruck with the elegant arrangement of the flowers along the under partof the stalks. The two blossoms are connected at the nectary of each ina singular manner. The Americans call this honeysuckle "twinflower. " Ihave seen some of the flowers of this plant pale pink: on the whole itis one of the most ornamental shrubs we have. I transplanted some youngtrees into my garden last spring; they promise to live and do well. I donot find any description of this shrub in Pursh's Flora, but know it tobe a species of honeysuckle, from the class and order, the shape andcolour of the leaves, the stalks, the trumpet-shaped blossom and thefruit; all bearing a resemblance to our honeysuckles in some degree. There is a tall upright bush, bearing large yellow trumpet-shapedflowers, springing from the extremities of the branches; the involucrumforms a boat-shaped cup that encircles the flowers from which they seemto spring, something after the manner of the scarlet trumpet-honeysuckle. The leaves and blossoms of this plant are coarse, and by nomeans to compare to the former. 

We have a great variety of curious orchises, some brown and yellow, others pale flesh-coloured, striped with crimson. There is one speciesgrows to the height of two feet, bearing long spikes of pale purpleflowers; a white one with most fragrant smell, and a delicate pink onewith round head of blossoms, finely fringed like the water-pinks thatgrow in our marshes; this is a very pretty flower, and grows in thebeaver meadows. 

Last autumn I observed in the pine-wood near us a very curious plant; itcame up with naked brown stems, branching off like some miniature tree;the stalks of this plant were brown, slightly freckled and beset withlittle knobs. I watched the progress of maturity in this strange plantwith some degree of interest, towards the latter end of October; thelittle knobs, which consisted of two angular hard cases, not unlike, when fully opened, to a boat in shape, burst asunder and displayed apale straw-coloured chaffy substance that resembled fine saw-dust: thesemust have been the anthers, but they bore more resemblance to seeds;this singular flower would have borne examination with a microscope. Onepeculiarity that I observed, was, that on pulling up a plant with itsroots, I found the blossoms open under ground, springing up from thelowest part of the flower-stems, and just as far advanced to maturity asthose that grew on the upper stalks, excepting that they were somewhatblanched, from being covered up from the air. I can find no descriptionof this plant, nor any person but myself seems to have taken notice ofit. The specimen I had on being dried became so brittle that it fell topieces. 

I have promised to collect some of the most singular of our nativeflowers for one of the Professors of Botany in the Edinburgh University. 

We have a very handsome plant that bears the closest affinity to ourpotatoe in its floral construction; it grows to the height of two orthree feet in favourable situations, and sends up many branches; theblossoms are large, purely white, freckled near the bottom of thecorolla with brownish yellow spots; the corolla is undivided: this isevidently the same plant as the cultivated potatoe, though it does notappear to form apples at the root. The fruit is very handsome, eggshaped, of a beautiful apricot colour when ripe, and of a shiningtempting appearance; the smell, however, betrays its poisonous nature:on opening one of the fruits you find it consists of a soft pulp filledwith shining black seeds. The plant continues in blossom from June tillthe first frosts wither the leaves; it is far less coarse than thepotatoe; the flower, when full blown, is about the size of a half crown, and quite flat; I think it is what you call salver-shaped: it delightsin light loamy soil, growing on the upturned roots of fallen trees, where the ground is inclined to be sandy. I have never seen this plantelsewhere than on our own fallow. 

The hepatica is the first flower of the Canadian spring: it gladdens uswith its tints of azure, pink, and white, early in April, soon after thesnows have melted from the earth. The Canadians can it snow-flower, fromits coming so soon after the snow disappears. We see its gay tufts offlowers in the open clearings and the deep recesses of the forests; itsleaves are also an enduring ornament through the open months of theyear; you see them on every grassy mound and mossy root: the shades ofblue are very various and delicate, the white anthers forming a lovelycontrast with the blue petals. 

The wood-cress, or as it is called by some, ginger-cress, is a prettywhite cruciform flower; it is highly aromatic in flavour; the root iswhite and fleshy, having the pungency of horseradish. The leaves are ofa sad green, sharply notched, and divided in three lobes; the leaves ofsome of them are slightly variegated; the plant delights in rich moistvegetable mould, especially on low and slightly swampy ground; theflower-stalk is sometimes naked, sometimes leafed, and is crowned with aloose spike of whitish cruciform flowers. 

There is a cress that grows in pretty green tufts at the bottom of thewaters in the creeks and small rivulets: it is more delicate andagreeable in flavour than any of the land-cresses; the leaves are of apale tender green, winged and slender; the plant looks like a greencushion at the bottom of the water. The flowers are yellow, cruciform, and insignificant; it makes a very acceptable salad in the early spring, and at the fall of the year. There are also several species of land-cress, and plants resembling some of the cabbage tribes, that might beused as spring vegetables. There are several species of spinach, oneknown here by the name of lamb's quarter, that grows in great profusionabout our garden, and in rich soil rises to two feet, and is veryluxuriant in its foliage; the leaves are covered with a white roughpowder. The top shoots and tender parts of this vegetable are boiledwith pork, and, in place of a more delicate pot-herb, is very useful. 

Then we have the Indian turnip; this is a very handsome arum, the rootof which resembles the capava, I am told, when boiled: the leaves ofthis arum are handsome, slightly tinged with purple. The spathe is of alively green, striped with purple: the Indians use the root as amedicine, and also as an esculent; it is often eaten by the settlers asa vegetable, but I never tasted it myself. Pursh calls this species_Arum atropurpureum_. 

I must not pass over one of our greatest ornaments, the strawberryblite, strawberry-bearing spinach, or Indian strawberry, as it isvariously named. This singular plant throws out many branches from onestem, these are garnished with handsome leaves, resembling in appearanceour long-leaved garden spinach; the finest of this plant is of a brightcrimson, pulpy like the strawberry, and containing a number of purpleseeds, partially embedded in the surface, after the same manner as thestrawberry. The fruit grows close to the stalk, completely surroundingit, and forming a long spike of the richest crimson berries. I havegathered branches a foot in length, closely covered with the beautifullooking fruit, and have regretted that it was so insipid in its flavouras to make it uneatable. On the banks of creeks and in rich ground, itgrows most luxuriantly, one root sending up twenty or thirty branches, drooping with the weight of their magnificent burden. As the middle andsuperior stems ripen and decay, the lateral ones come on, presenting aconstant succession of fruit from July till the frosts nip them off inSeptember. 

The Indians use the juice of this plant as a dye, and are said to eatthe berries: it is often made use of as a substitute for red ink, but itis liable to fade unless mingled with alum. A friend of mine told me shehad been induced to cross a letter she was sending to a relative inEngland with this strawberry ink, but not having taken the precaution tofix the colour, when the anxiously expected epistle arrived, one-half ofit proved quite unintelligible, the colours having faded nearly towhite; so that instead of affording satisfaction, it proved only asource of vexation and embarrassment to the reader, and of mortificationto the writer. 

The blood-root, sanguinaria, or puccoon, as it is termed by some of thenative tribes, is worthy of attention from the root to the flower. Assoon as the sun of April has warmed the earth and loosened it from itsfrozen bonds, you may distinguish a number of purely white buds, elevated on a naked footstalk, and partially enfolded in a handsomevine-shaped leaf, of a pale bluish green, curiously veined on the underside with pale orange. The leaf springs singly from a thick juicyfibrous root, which, on being broken, emits a quantity of liquor fromits pores of a bright orange scarlet colour: this juice is used by theIndians as a dye, and also in the cure of rheumatic, and cutaneouscomplaints. The flowers of the sanguinaria resemble the white crocusvery closely: when it first comes up the bud is supported by the leaf, and is folded together with it; the flower, however, soon elevatesitself above its protector, while the leaf having performed its duty ofguardian to the tender bud, expands to its full size. A rich blackvegetable mould at the edges of the clearings seems the favourite soilfor this plant. 

The scarlet columbine is another of my favourite flowers; it is brightred, with yellow linings to the tubes. The nectaries are more elongatedthan the garden columbines, and form a sort of mural crown, surmountedwith little balls at the tips. A tall graceful plant, with its brilliantwaving blossoms, is this columbine; it grows both in the sunshine andthe shade, not perhaps in deep shady woods, but where the under brushhas been removed by the running of the fire or the axe of the chopper;it seems even to flourish in poor stony soils, and may be found nearevery dwelling. The feathered columbine delights in moist open swamps, and the banks of rivulets; it grows to the height of three, and evenfour and five feet, and is very ornamental. 

Of Violets, we have every variety of colour, size and shape, lackingonly the delightful _viola odorata_ of our home woodlands: yet I knownot why we should quarrel with these meek daughters of the spring, because they want the fragrance of their more favoured sisters. Many ofyour wood-violets, though very beautiful, are also devoid of scent; herevariety of colour ought to make some amends for want of perfume. We haveviolets of every shade of blue, some veined with purple, others shadedwith darker blue. We have the delicate white, pencilled with purple: thebright brimstone coloured with black veinings: the pale primrose withdark blue veins; the two latter are remarkable for the luxuriance andsize of the leaves: the flowers spring in bunches, several from eachjoint, and are succeeded by large capsules covered with thick whitecottony down. There is a species of violet that grows in the woods, theleaves of which are exceedingly large; so are the seed-vessels, but theflower is so small and insignificant, that it is only to be observed bya close examination of the plant; this has given rise to the vulgarbelief that it blooms under ground. The flowers are a pale greenishyellow. Bryant's beautiful poem of the Yellow Violet is descriptive ofthe first-mentioned violet. 

There is an elegant _viola tricolor_, that blooms in the autumn; it isthe size of a small heart's-ease, and is pure white, pale purple, andlilac; the upper petals are white, the lower lip purple, and the sidewings a reddish lilac. I was struck with the elegance of this rareflower on a journey to Peterborough, on my way to Cobourg; I was unableto preserve the specimens, and have not travelled that road since. Theflower grew among wild clover on the open side of the road; the leaveswere small, roundish, and of a dark sad green. 

Of the tall shrubby asters, we have several beautiful varieties, withlarge pale blue lilac, or white flowers; others with very small whiteflowers and crimson anthers, which look like tufts of red down, spangledwith gold-dust; these anthers have a pretty effect, contrasted with thewhite starry petals. There is one variety of the tall asters that I haveseen on the plains, it has flowers about the size of a sixpence, of asoft pearly tint of blue, with brown anthers; this plant grows verytall, and branches from the parent stem in many graceful flowery boughs;the leaves of this species are of a purple red on the under side, andinclining to heart-shape; the leaves and stalks are hairy. 

I am not afraid of wearying you with my floral sketches, I have yet manyto describe; among these are those elegant little evergreens, thatabound in this country, under the name of winter-greens, of which thereare three or four remarkable for beauty of foliage, flower, and fruit. One of these winter-greens that abounds in our pine-woods is extremelybeautiful; it seldom exceeds six inches in height; the leaves are abright shining green, of a long narrow oval, delicately notched like theedges of a rose-leaf; and the plant emerges from beneath the snow in theearly part of the year, as soon as the first thaw takes place, as freshand verdant as before they were covered up: it seems to be a shyblossomer. I have never seen specimens of the flowers in bloom buttwice; these I carefully preserved for you, but the dried plant willafford but an imperfect idea of the original. You always called, youknow, your dried specimens corpses of plants, and said, that when wellpainted, their representations were far more like themselves. Theflower-stalk rises two or three inches from the centre of the plant, andis crowned with round crimson buds and blossoms, consisting of fivepetals, deepening from the palest pink to the brightest blush colour;the stigma is of an emerald greenness, forming a slightly ribbed turbanin the centre, around which are disposed ten stamens of an amethystcolour: in short, this is one of the gems of the floral world, and mightaptly be compared to an emerald ring, set round with amethysts. Thecontrast of colours in this flower is exceedingly pleasing, and thecrimson buds and shining ever-green leaves are scarcely less to beadmired than the flower; itself it would be considered a greatacquisition to your collection of American shrubs, but I doubt if itwould flourish when removed from the shade of the pine-woods. This plantappears to be the _Chimaphila corymbosa_, or winter-green, described byPursh, with some trifling variation in the colour of the petals. 

Another of our winter-greens grows in abundance on the Rice-Lake plains;the plant does not exceed four inches; the flowers are in little loosebunches, pale greenish white, in shape like the blossom of the arbutus;the berries are bright scarlet, and are known by the name of winter-berry, and partridge-berry; this must be _Gualtheria procumbens_. But amore beautiful little evergreen of the same species is to be found inour cedar swamps, under the name of pigeon-berry; it resembles thearbutus in leaf and flower more closely than the former plant; thescarlet berry is inserted in a scarlet cup or receptacle, divided at theedge in five points; it is fleshy, seeming to partake of the same natureas the fruit. The blossoms of this elegant little shrub, like thearbutus, of which it looks like the miniature, appear in droopingbunches at the same time the ripened berry of the former year is inperfection; this circumstance adds not a little to the charm of theplant. If I mistake not, this is the _Gualtheria Shallon_, which Purshlikens to the arbutus: this is also one of our winter-greens. 

There is another pretty trailing plant, with delicate little funnel-shaped flowers, and a profusion of small dark green round buds, slightlyvariegated, and bright red berries, which are produced at theextremities of the branches. The blossoms of this plant grow in pairs, closely connected at the germen, so much so, that the scarlet fruit thatsupersedes the flowers appears like a double berry, each berrycontaining the seeds of both flowers and a double eye. The plant is alsocalled winter-green, or twin-berry; it resembles none of the otherwinter-greens; it grows in mossy woods, trailing along the ground, appearing to delight in covering little hillocks and inequalities of theground. In elegance of growth, delicacy of flower, and brightness ofberry, this winter-green is little inferior to any of the former. 

There is a plant in our woods, known by the names of man-drake, may-apple, and duck's-foot: the botanical name of the plant is Podophyllum;it belongs to the class and order _Polyandria monogynia_. The blossom isyellowish white, the corolla consisting of six petals; the fruit isoblong; when ripe, of a greenish yellow; in size that of an olive, orlarge damson; when fully ripe it has the flavour of preserved tamarind, a pleasant brisk acid; it appears to be a shy bearer, though itincreases rapidly in rich moist wood-lands. The leaves come up singly, are palmated and shade the ground very much when a number of them grownear each other; the stalk supports the leaf from the centre: when theyfirst appear above the ground, they resemble a folded umbrella orparasol, all the edges of the leaves bending downward, by degreesexpanding into a slightly convex canopy. The fruit would make a delicatepreserve with sugar. 

The lily tribe offer an extensive variety from the most minute to thevery largest flowers. The red martagon grows abundantly on our plains;the dog's tooth violet, _Erythronium_, with its spotted leaves andbending yellow blossom, delicately dashed with crimson spots within, andmarked with fine purple lines on the outer part of the petal, proves agreat attraction in our woods, where these plants increase: they form abeautiful bed; the leaves come up singly, one from each separate tuber. There are two varieties of this flower, the pale yellow, with neitherspots nor lines, and the deep yellow with both; the anthers of this lastare reddish-orange, and thickly covered with a fine powdery substance. The daffodil of our woods is a delicate bending flower, of a paleyellow; the leaves grow up the flower-stalk at intervals; three or moreflowers usually succeed each other at the extremity of the stalk: itsheight is from six to eight inches; it delights in the deep shade ofmoist woods. This seems to unite the description of the jonquil anddaffodil. 

A very beautiful plant of the lily tribe abounds both in our woods andclearings; for want of a better name, I call it the douri-lily, thoughit is widely spread over a great portion of the continent. The Americansterm the white and red varieties of this species, the "white" and "reddeath. " The flower is either deep red, or of a dazzling white, thoughthe latter is often found stained with a delicate blush-pink, or a deepgreen; the latter appears to be caused by the calix running into thepetal. Wherefore it bears so formidable a name has not yet transpired. The flower consists of three petals, the calix three; it belongs to theclass and order _Hexandria monogynia_; style, three-cleft; seed-vesselof three valves; soil, dry woods and cleared lands; leaves growing inthree, springing from the joints, large round, but a little pointed atthe extremities. 

We have lilies of the valley, and their cousins the Solomon's seals, asmall flowered turk's-cap, of pale primrose colour, with an endlessvariety of small flowers of the lily tribe, remarkable for beauty offoliage or delicacy of form. 

Our Ferns are very elegant and numerous; I have no less than eightdifferent specimens, gathered from our immediate neighbourhood, some ofwhich are extremely elegant, especially one that I call the "fairyfern, " from its lightness. One elastic stem, of a purplish-red colour, supports several light branches, which are subdivided and furnished withinnumerable leaflets; each leaflet has a footstalk, that attaches it tothe branch, of so slight and hair-like a substance that the least breathof air sets the whole plant in motion. 

Could we but imagine Canada to have been the scene of fairy revels, weshould declare that these graceful ferns were well suited to shade theelfin court of Oberon and Titania. 

When this fern first appears above the ground, it is scarcely to bedistinguished from the decaying wood of the fallen pines; it is then ofa light reddish brown, curiously curled up. In May and June, the leavesunfold, and soon assume the most delicate tint of green; they are almosttransparent: the cattle are very fond of this fern. 

The mocassin flower or lady's-slipper (mark the odd coincidence betweenthe common name of the American and English species) is one of our mostremarkable flowers; both on account of its beauty and its singularity ofstructure. Our plains and dry sunny pastures produce several varieties;among these, the _Cypripedium pubescens_, or yellow mocassin, and the_C. Arietinum_ are the most beautiful of the species. The colour of thelip of the former is a lively canary yellow, dashed with deep crimsonspots. The upper petals consist of two short and two long; in textureand colour resembling the sheath of some of the narcissus tribe; theshort ones stand erect, like a pair of ears; the long or lateral pairare three times the length of the former, very narrow, and elegantlytwisted, like the spiral horns of the Walachian ram: on raising a thickyellow fleshy sort of lid, in the middle of the flower, you perceive theexact face of an Indian hound, perfect in all its parts, the eyes, nose, and mouth; below this depends an open sack, slightly gathered round atthe opening, which gives it a hollow and prominent appearance; theinside of this bag is delicately dashed with deep crimson, or blackspots: the stem of the flower is thick towards the upper part, and takesa direct bend; the leaves are large oval, a little pointed and ribbed;the plant scarcely exceeds six inches: the elegant colour and silkentexture of the lower lip or bag renders this flower very much morebeautiful to my taste than the purple and white variety, though thelatter is much more striking on account of the size of the flower andleaves, besides the contrast between the white and red, or white andpurple colours. 

The formation of this species resembles the other, only with thisdifference, the horns are not twisted, and the face is that of a monkey;even the comical expression of the animal is preserved with suchadmirable fidelity, as to draw a smile from every one that sees the oddrestless-looking visage, with its prominent round black eyes peeringforth from under its covering. 

These plants belong to class and order _Gynandria diandria_; aredescribed with some little variation by Pursh, who, however, likens theface of the latter to that of a sheep: if a sheep sat for the picture, methinks it must have been the most mischievous of the flock. 

There is a curious aquatic plant that grows in shallow, stagnant, orslow-flowing waters; it will contain a full wine-glass of water. A poorsoldier brought it to me, and told me it resembled a plant he used tosee in Egypt, that the soldiers called the "Soldier's drinking-cup" andmany a good draught of pure water, he said, I have drank from them. 

Another specimen was presented me by a gentleman who knew mypredilection for strange plants; he very aptly gave it the name of"Pitcher-plant;" it very probably belongs to the tribe that bear thatname. 

The flowers that afford the most decided perfumes are our wild roses, which possess a delicious scent: the milk-weed, which gives out a smellnot-unlike the night-blowing stock; the purple monarda, which isfragrance itself from the root to the flower, and even after months'exposure to the wintry atmosphere; its dried leaves and seed-vessels areso sweet as to impart perfume to your hands or clothes. All our Mintsare strong scented: the lily of the valley is remarkable for its finesmell; then there is my queen of the lakes, and her consort, the water-king, with many other flowers I cannot now enumerate. Certain it is thatamong such a vast assemblage of flowers, there are, comparatively, veryfew that are gifted with fragrant scents. Some of our forest-trees giveout a fine perfume. I have often paused in my walks to inhale thefragrance from a cedar swamp on some sunny day while the boughs werestill wet with the dew-drops or recently fallen shower. 

Nor is the balsam-poplar, or tacamahac, less delightfully fragrant, especially while the gummy buds are just beginning to unfold; this is anelegant growing tree, where it has room to expand into boughs. It growschiefly on the shores of the lakes and in open swamps, but it also formsone of the attractions of our plains, with its silver bark and wavingfoliage; it emits a resinous clear gum in transparent globules on thebark, and the buds are covered with a highly aromatic gummy fluid. 

Our Grasses are highly interesting; there are varieties that are whollynew to me, and when dried form the most elegant ornaments to ourchimney-pieces, and would look very graceful on a lady's head; onlyfashionists always prefer the artificial to the natural. 

One or two species of grass that I have gathered bear a close but ofcourse minute resemblance to the Indian corn, having a top feather andeight-sided spike of little grains disposed at the sidejoints. The_sisyrinchium_, or blue-eyed grass, is a pretty little flower of anazure blue, with golden spot at the base of each petal; the leaves areflat, stiff, and flag-like; this pretty flower grows in tufts on lightsandy soils. 

I have given you a description of the flowers most worthy of attention;and, though it is very probable some of my descriptions may not beexactly in the technical language of the correct botanist, I have atleast described them as they appear. 

My dear boy seems already to have a taste for flowers, which I shallencourage as much as possible. It is a study that tends to refine andpurify the mind, and can be made, by simple steps, a ladder to heaven, as it were, by teaching a child to look with love and admiration to thatbountiful God who created and made flowers so fair to adorn and fructifythis earth. 

Farewell, my dear sister. 

LETTER XV. 

Recapitulation of various Topics. --Progress of Settlement. --Canada, theLand of Hope. --Visit to the Family of a Naval Officer. --Squirrels. --Visit to, and Story of, an Emigrant Clergyman. --His early Difficulties. --The Temper, Disposition, and Habits of Emigrants essential Ingredientsin Failure or Success. 

September the 20th, 1834. 

I PROMISED when I parted from you before I left England to write as soonas I could give you any satisfactory account of our settlement in thiscountry. I shall do my best to redeem that promise, and forward you aslight sketch of our proceedings, with such remarks on the naturalfeatures of the place in which we have fixed our abode, as I thinklikely to afford you interest or amusement. Prepare your patience, then, my dear friend, for a long and rambling epistle, in which I may possiblyprove somewhat of a Will-o'-the-wisp, and having made you follow me inmy desultory wanderings, --

 Over hill, over dale, Through bush, through briar, Over park, over pale, Through flood, through fire, --

Possibly leave you in the midst of a big cedar swamp, or among thepathless mazes of our wild woods, without a clue to guide you, or even a_blaze_ to light you on your way. 

You will have heard, through my letters to my dear mother, of our safearrival at Quebec, of my illness at Montreal, of all our adventures andmisadventures during our journey up the country, till after much wearywandering we finally found a home and resting-place with a kindrelative, whom it was our happiness to meet after a separation of manyyears. 

As my husband was anxious to settle in the neighbourhood of one sonearly connected with me, thinking it would rob the woods of some of theloneliness that most women complain so bitterly of, he purchased a lotof land on the shores of a beautiful lake, one of a chain of small lakesbelonging to the Otanabee river. 

Here, then, we are established, having now some five-and-twenty acrescleared, and a nice house built. Our situation is very agreeable, andeach day increases its value. When we first came up to live in the bush, with the exception of S------, here were but two or three settlers nearus, and no roads cut out. The only road that was available for bringingup goods from the nearest town was on the opposite side of the water, which was obliged to be crossed on a log, or birch-bark canoe; theformer nothing better than a large pine-log hollowed with the axe, so asto contain three or four persons; it is flat-bottomed, and very narrow, on which account it is much used on these shallow waters. The birchcanoe is made of sheets of birch bark, ingeniously fashioned and sewntogether by the Indians with the tough roots of the cedar, young pine, or larch (tamarack, as it is termed by the Indians); it is exceedinglylight, so that it can be carried by two persons easily, or even by one. These, then, were our ferry-boats, and very frail they are, and requiregreat nicety in their management; they are worked in the water withpaddles, either kneeling or standing. The squaws are very expert in themanagement of the canoes, and preserve their balance with admirableskill, standing up while they impel the little bark with great velocitythrough the water. 

Very great is the change that a few years have effected in oursituation. A number of highly respectable settlers have purchased landalong the shores of these lakes, so that we no longer want society. Theroads are now cut several miles above us, and though far from good canbe travelled by waggons and sleighs, and are, at all events, better thannone. 

A village has started up where formerly a thick pine-wood covered theground; we have now within a short distance of us an excellent saw-mill, a grist-mill, and store, with a large tavern and many good dwellings. Afine timber bridge, on stone piers, was erected last year to connect theopposite townships and lessen the distance to and from Peterborough; andthough it was unfortunately swept away early last spring by the unusualrising of the Otanabee lakes, a new and more substantial one has risenupon the ruins of the former, through the activity of an enterprisingyoung Scotchman, the founder of the village. 

But the grand work that is, sooner or later, to raise this portion ofthe district from its present obscurity, is the opening a line ofnavigation from Lake Huron through Lake Simcoe, and so through our chainof small lakes to Rice Lake, and finally through the Trent to the Bay ofQuinte. This noble work would prove of incalculable advantage, byopening a direct communication between Lake Huron and the inlandtownships at the back of the Ontario with the St. Laurence. This projecthas already been under the consideration of the Governor, and is atpresent exciting great interest in the country: sooner or later there islittle doubt but that it will be carried into effect. It presents somedifficulties and expense, but it would be greatly to the advantage andprosperity of the country, and be the means of settling many of the backtownships bordering upon these lakes. 

I must leave it to abler persons than myself to discuss at large thepolicy and expediency of the measure; but as I suppose you have nointention of emigrating to our backwoods, you will be contented with mycursory view of the matter, and believe, as in friendship you are boundto do, that it is a desirable thing to open a market for inland produce. 

Canada is the land of hope; here every thing is new; every thing goingforward; it is scarcely possible for arts, sciences, agriculture, manufactures, to retrograde; they must keep advancing; though in somesituations the progress may seem slow, in others they are proportionablyrapid. 

There is a constant excitement on the minds of emigrants, particularlyin the partially settled townships, that greatly assists in keeping themfrom desponding. The arrival of some enterprising person gives astimulus to those about him: a profitable speculation is started, andlo, the value of the land in the vicinity rises to double and treblewhat it was thought worth before; so that, without any design ofbefriending his neighbours, the schemes of one settler being carriedinto effect shall benefit a great number. We have already felt thebeneficial effect of the access of respectable emigrants locatingthemselves in this township, as it has already increased the value ofour own land in a three-fold degree. 

All this, my dear friend, you will say is very well, and might affordsubject for a wise discussion between grave men, but will hardly amuseus women; so pray turn to some other theme, and just tell me how youcontrive to pass your time among the bears and wolves of Canada. 

One lovely day last June I went by water to visit the bride of a youngnaval officer, who had purchased a very pretty lot of land some twomiles higher up the lake; our party consisted of my husband, baby, andmyself; we met a few pleasant friends, and enjoyed our excursion much. Dinner was laid out in the _stoup_, which, as you may not know what ismeant by the word, I must tell you that it means a sort of wideverandah, supported on pillars, often of unbarked logs; the floor iseither of earth beaten hard, or plank; the roof covered with sheets ofbark or else shingled. These stoups are of Dutch origin, and wereintroduced, I have been told, by the first Dutch settlers in the states, since which they have found their way all over the colonies. 

Wreathed with the scarlet creeper, a native plant of our woods andwilds, the wild vine, and also with the hop, which here growsluxuriantly, with no labour or attention to its culture, these stoupshave a very rural appearance; in summer serving the purpose of an openante-room, in which you can take your meals and enjoy the fanning breezewithout being inconvenienced by the extreme heat of the noon-day sun. 

The situation of the house was remarkably well chosen, just on thesummit of a little elevated plain, the ground sloping with a steepdescent to a little valley, at the bottom of which a bright rill ofwater divided the garden from the opposite corn-fields, which clothed acorresponding bank. In front of the stoup, where we dined, the gardenwas laid out with a smooth plot of grass, surrounded with borders offlowers, and separated from a ripening field of wheat by a light railedfence, over which the luxuriant hop-vine flung its tendrils and gracefulblossoms. Now I must tell you the hop is cultivated for the purpose ofmaking a barm for raising bread. As you take great interest inhousewifery concerns, I shall send you a recipe for what we call hop-rising*. [* See Appendix. ]

The Yankees use a fermentation of salt, flour, and warm water or milk;but though the _salt-rising_ makes beautiful bread to look at, being farwhiter and firmer than the hop-yeast bread, there is a peculiar flavourimparted to the flour that does not please every one's taste, and it isvery difficult to get your salt-rising to work in very cold weather. 

And now, having digressed while I gave you my recipes, I shall step backto my party within the stoup, which, I can assure you, was verypleasant, and most cordially disposed to enjoy the meeting. We had booksand drawings, and good store of pretty Indian toys, the collection ofmany long voyages to distant shores, to look at and admire. Soon aftersun-set we walked down through the woods to the landing at the lakeshore, where we found our bark canoe ready to convey us home. 

During our voyage, just at the head of the rapids, our attention wasdrawn to some small object in the water, moving very swiftly along;there were various opinions as to the swimmer, some thinking it to be awater-snake, others a squirrel, or a musk-rat; a few swift strokes ofthe paddles brought us up so as to intercept the passage of the littlevoyager; it proved to be a fine red squirrel, bound on a voyage ofdiscovery from a neighbouring island. The little animal, with a courageand address that astonished his pursuers, instead of seeking safety in adifferent direction, sprung lightly on the point of the uplifted paddle, and from thence with a bound to the head of my astonished baby, andhaving gained my shoulder, leaped again into the water, and made directfor the shore, never having deviated a single point from the line he wasswimming in when he first came in sight of our canoe. I was surprisedand amused by the agility and courage displayed by this innocentcreature; I could hardly have given credence to the circumstance, had Inot been an eye-witness of its conduct, and moreover been wettedplentifully on my shoulder by the sprinkling of water from his coat. 

Perhaps you may think my squirrel anecdote incredible; but I can vouchfor the truth of it on my own personal experience, as I not only saw butalso felt it: the black squirrels are most lovely and elegant animals, considerably larger than the red, the grey, and the striped: the latterare called by the Indians "chit-munks. "

We were robbed greatly by these little depredators last summer; the redsquirrels used to carry off great quantities of our Indian corn not onlyfrom the stalks, while the crop was ripening, but they even came intothe house through some chinks in the log-walls, and carried off vastquantities of the grain, stripping it very adroitly from the cob, andconveying the grain away to their storehouses in some hollow 1og orsubterranean granary. 

These little animals are very fond of the seeds of the pumpkins, and youwill see the soft creatures whisking about among the cattle, carryingaway the seeds as they are scattered by the beasts in breaking thepumpkins: they also delight in the seeds of the sunflowers, which growto a gigantic height in our gardens and clearings. The fowls areremarkably fond of the sunflower-seeds, and I saved the plants with theintention of laying up a good store of winter food for my poor chicks. One day I went to cut the ripe heads, the largest of which was the sizeof a large dessert-plate, but found two wicked red squirrels busilyemployed gathering in the seeds, not for me, be sure, but themselves. Not contented with picking out the seeds, these little thievesdexterously sawed through the stalks, and conveyed away whole heads atonce: so bold were they that they would not desist when I approachedtill they had secured their object, and, encumbered with a load twicethe weight of their own agile bodies, ran with a swiftness along therails, and over root, stump, and log, till they eluded my pursuit. 

[Illustration: Red-squirrel]

Great was the indignation expressed by this thrifty little pair onreturning again for another load to find the plant divested of theheads. I had cut what remained and put them in a basket in the sun, on asmall block in the garden, close to the open glass-door, on the steps ofwhich I was sitting shelling some seed-beans, when the squirrels drew myattention to them by their sharp scolding notes, elevating their finefeathery tails and expressing the most lively indignation at theinvasion: they were not long before they discovered the Indian basketwith the ravished treasure; a few rapid movements brought the littlepair to the rails within a few paces of me and the sunflower-heads;here, then, they paused, and sitting up looked in my face with the mostimploring gestures. I was too much amused by their perplexity to helpthem, but turning away my head to speak to the child, they dartedforward, and in another minute had taken possession of one of thelargest of the heads, which they conveyed away, first one carrying it afew yards, then the other, it being too bulky for one alone to carry itfar at a time. In short, I was so well amused by watching theirmanoeuvres that I suffered them to rob me of all my store. I saw alittle family of tiny squirrels at play in the spring on the top of ahollow log, and really I think they were, without exception, theliveliest, most graceful creatures I ever looked upon. 

The flying squirrel is a native of our woods, and exceeds in beauty, tomy mind, any of the tribe. Its colour is the softest, most delicate tintof grey; the fur thick and short, and as silken as velvet; the eyes likeall the squirrel kind, are large, full, and soft the whiskers and longhair about the nose black; the membrane that assists this little animalin its flight is white and delicately soft in texture, like the fur ofthe chinchilla; it forms a ridge of fur between the fore and hind legs;the tail is like an elegant broad grey feather. I was agreeablysurprised by the appearance of this exquisite little creature; thepictures I had seen giving it a most inelegant and _batlike_ look, almost disgusting. The young ones are easily tamed, and are very playfuland affectionate when under confinement. 

[Illustration: Flying Squirrel]

How my little friend Emily would delight in such a pet! Tell her if everI should return to dear old England, I will try to procure one for her;but at present she must be contented with the stuffed specimens of theblack, red, and striped squirrels which I enclose in my parcel. I wish Icould offer you any present more valuable, but our arts and manufacturesbeing entirely British, with the exception of the Indians' toys, Ishould find it a difficult matter to send you any thing worth yourattention; therefore I am obliged to have recourse to the naturalproductions of our woods as tokens of remembrance to our friends _athome_, for it is ever thus we speak of the land of our birth. 

You wish to know if I am happy and contented in my situation, or if myheart pines after my native land. I will answer you candidly, and saythat, as far as regards matters of taste, early association, and allthose holy ties of kindred, and old affections that make "home" in allcountries, and among all nations in the world, a hallowed spot, I mustever give the preference to Britain. 

On the other hand, a sense of the duties I have chosen, and a feeling ofconformity to one's situation, lessen the regret I might be inclined toindulge in. Besides, there are new and delightful ties that bind me toCanada: I have enjoyed much domestic happiness since I came hither;--andis it not the birthplace of my dear child? Have I not here first tastedthe rapturous delight arising from maternal feelings? When my eye restson my smiling darling, or I feel his warm breath upon my cheek, I wouldnot exchange the joy that fills my breast for any pleasure the worldcould offer me. "But this feeling is not confined to the solitude ofyour Canadian forests, my dear friend, " you will say. I know it; buthere there is nothing to interfere with your little nursling. You arenot tempted by the pleasures of a gay world to forget your duties as amother; there is nothing to supplant him in your heart; his presenceendears every place; and you learn to love the spot that gave him birth, and to think with complacency upon the country, because it is _his_country; and in looking forward to his future welfare you naturallybecome doubly interested in the place that is one day to be his. 

Perhaps I rather estimate the country by my own feelings; and when Ifind, by impartial survey of my present life, that I am to the full ashappy, if not really happier, than I was in the old country, I cannotbut value it. 

Possibly, if I were to enter into a detail of the advantages I possess, they would appear of a very negative character in the eyes of personsrevelling in all the splendour and luxury that wealth could procure, ina country in which nature and art are so eminently favourable towardswhat is usually termed the pleasures of life; but I never was a votaryat the shrine of luxury or fashion. A round of company, a routine ofpleasure, were to me sources of weariness, if not of disgust. "There'snothing in all this to satisfy the heart, " says Schiller; and I admitthe force of the sentiment. 

I was too much inclined to spurn with impatience the fetters thatetiquette and fashion are wont to impose on society, till they rob itsfollowers of all freedom and independence of will; and they soon areobliged to live for a world that in secret they despise and loathe, fora world, too, that usually regards them with contempt, because they darenot act with an independence, which would be crushed directly it wasdisplayed. 

And I must freely confess to you that I do prize and enjoy my presentliberty in this country exceedingly: in this we possess an advantageover you, and over those that inhabit the towns and villages in _this_country, where I see a ridiculous attempt to keep up an appearance thatis quite foreign to the situation of those that practise it. Few, veryfew, are the emigrants that come to the colonies, unless it is with theview of realising an independence for themselves or their children. Those that could afford to live in ease at home, believe me, would neverexpose themselves to the privations and disagreeable consequences of asettler's life in Canada: therefore, this is the natural inference wedraw, that the emigrant has come hither under the desire and naturalhope of bettering his condition, and benefiting a family that he has notthe means of settling in life in the home country. It is foolish, then, to launch out in a style of life that every one knows cannot bemaintained; rather ought such persons to rejoice in the consciousnessthat they can, if they please, live according to their circumstances, without being the less regarded for the practice of prudence, economy, and industry. 

Now, we _bush-settlers_ are more independent: we do what we like; wedress as we find most suitable and most convenient; we are totallywithout the fear of any Mr. Or Mrs. Grundy; and having shaken off thetrammels of Grundyism, we laugh at the absurdity of those whovoluntarily forge afresh and hug their chains. 

If our friends come to visit us unexpectedly we make them welcome to ourhumble homes, and give them the best we have; but if our fare beindifferent, we offer it with good will, and no apologies are made orexpected: they would be out of place; as every one is aware of thedisadvantages of a new settlement; and any excuses for want of variety, or the delicacies of the table, would be considered rather in the lightof a tacit reproof to your guest for having unseasonably put yourhospitality to the test. 

Our society is mostly military or naval; so that we meet on equalgrounds, and are, of course, well acquainted with the rules of goodbreeding and polite life; too much so to allow any deviation from thoselaws that good taste, good sense, and good feeling have establishedamong persons of our class. 

Yet here it is considered by no means derogatory to the wife of anofficer or gentleman to assist in the work of the house, or to performits entire duties if occasion requires it; to understand the mystery ofsoap, candle, and sugar-making; to make bread, butter, and cheese, oreven to milk her own cows; to knit and spin, and prepare the wool forthe loom. In these matters we bush-ladies have a wholesome disregard ofwhat Mr. Or Mrs. So-and-so thinks or says. We pride ourselves onconforming to circumstances; and as a British officer must needs be agentleman and his wife a lady, perhaps we repose quietly on thatincontestable proof of our gentility, and can afford to be usefulwithout injuring it. 

Our husbands adopt a similar line of conduct: the officer turns hissword into a ploughshare, and his lance into a sickle; and if he be seenploughing among the stumps in his own field, or chopping trees on hisown land, no one thinks less of his dignity, or considers him less of agentleman, than when he appeared upon parade in all the pride ofmilitary etiquette, with sash, sword and epaulette. Surely this is as itshould be in a country where independence is inseparable from industry;and for this I prize it. 

Among many advantages we in this township possess, it is certainly noinconsiderable one that the lower or working class of settlers are welldisposed, and quite free from the annoying Yankee manners thatdistinguish many of the earlier-settled townships. Our servants are asrespectful, or nearly so, as those at home; nor are they admitted to ourtables, or placed on an equality with us, excepting at "bees, " and suchkinds of public meetings; when they usually conduct themselves with apropriety that would afford an example to some that call themselvesgentlemen, viz. , young men who voluntarily throw aside those restraintsthat society expects from persons filling a respectable situation. 

Intemperance is too prevailing a vice among all ranks of people in thiscountry; but I blush to say it belongs most decidedly to those thatconsider themselves among the better class of emigrants. Let none suchcomplain of the airs of equality displayed towards them by the labouringclass, seeing that they degrade themselves below the honest, sobersettler, however poor. If the sons of gentlemen lower themselves, nowonder if the sons of poor men endeavour to exalt themselves about himin a country where they all meet on equal ground; and good conduct isthe distinguishing mark between the classes. 

Some months ago, when visiting a friend in a distant part of thecountry, I accompanied her to stay a few days in the house of a residentclergyman, curate of a flourishing village in the township of ------. Iwas struck by the primitive simplicity of the mansion and itsinhabitants. We were introduced into the little family sitting-room, thefloor of which was painted after the Yankee fashion; instead of beingcarpeted, the walls were of unornamented deal, and the furniture of theroom of corresponding plainness. A large spinning-wheel, as big as acart-wheel, nearly occupied the centre of the room, at which a neatly-dressed matron, of mild and lady-like appearance, was engaged spinningyarn; her little daughters were knitting beside the fire, while theirfather was engaged in the instruction of two of his sons; a third wasseated affectionately in a little straw chair between his feet, while afourth was plying his axe with nervous strokes in the court-yard, casting from time to time wistful glances through the parlour-window atthe party within. 

The dresses of the children were of a coarse sort of stuff, a mixture ofwoollen and thread, the produce of the farm and their mother'spraiseworthy industry. The stockings, socks, muffatees, and warmcomforters were all of home manufacture. Both girls and boys woremocassins, of their own making: good sense, industry, and order presidedamong the members of this little household. 

Both girls and boys seemed to act upon the principle, that nothing isdisgraceful but that which is immoral and improper. 

Hospitality without extravagance, kindness without insincerity ofspeech, marked the manners of our worthy friends. Every thing in thehouse was conducted with attention to prudence and comfort. The livingwas but small (the income arising from it, I should have said), butthere was glebe land, and a small dwelling attached to it, and, by dintof active exertion without-doors, and economy and good managementwithin, the family were maintained with respectability: in short, weenjoyed during our sojourn many of the comforts of a cleared farm;poultry of every kind, beef of their own killing, excellent mutton andpork: we had a variety of preserves at our tea-table, with honey in thecomb, delicious butter, and good cheese, with divers sorts of cakes; akind of little pancake, made from the flour of buck-wheat, which aremade in a batter, and raised with barm, afterwards dropped into boilinglard, and fried; also a preparation made of Indian corn-flour, calledsupporne-cake, which is fried in slices, and eaten with maple-syrup, were among the novelties of our breakfast-fare. 

I was admiring a breed of very fine fowls in the poultry-yard onemorning, when my friend smiled and said, "I do not know if you willthink I came honestly by them. "

"I am sure you did not acquire them by dishonest means, " I replied, laughing; "I will vouch for your principles in that respect. "

"Well, " replied my hostess, "they were neither given me, nor sold to me, and I did not steal them. I found the original stock in the followingmanner. An old black hen most unexpectedly made her appearance onespring morning at our door; we hailed the stranger with surprise anddelight; for we could not muster a single domestic fowl among our littlecolony at that time. We never rightly knew by what means the hen cameinto our possession, but suppose some emigrant's family going up thecountry must have lost or left her; she laid ten eggs, and hatchedchickens from them; from this little brood we raised a stock, and soonsupplied all our neighbours with fowls. We prize the breed, not only onaccount of its fine size, but from the singular, and, as we thought, providential, manner in which we obtained it. "

I was much interested in the slight sketch given by the pastor oneevening, as we all assembled round the blazing log-fire, that was piledhalf-way up the chimney, which reared its stone fabric so as to formdeep recesses at either side of its abutments. 

Alluding to his first settlement, he observed, "it was a desolatewilderness of gloomy and unbroken forest-trees when we first pitched ourtent here: at that time an axe had not been laid to the root of a tree, nor a fire, save by the wandering Indians, kindled in these woods. 

"I can now point out the identical spot where my wife and little onesate their first meal, and raised their feeble voices in thankfulness tothat Almighty and merciful Being who had preserved them through theperils of the deep, and brought them in safety to this vast solitude. 

"We were a little flock wandering in a great wilderness, under thespecial protection of our mighty Shepherd. 

"I have heard you, my dear young lady, " he said, addressing thecompanion of my visit, "talk of the hardships of the bush; but, let metell you, you know but little of its privations compared with those thatcame hither some years ago. 

"Ask these, my elder children and my wife, what were the hardships of abush-settler's life ten years ago, and they will tell you it was toendure cold, hunger, and all its accompanying evils; to know at timesthe want of every necessary article of food. As to the luxuries anddelicacies of life, we saw them not;--how could we? we were far removedfrom the opportunity of obtaining these things: potatoes, pork, andflour were our only stores, and often we failed of the two latter beforea fresh supply could be procured. We had not mills nearer than thirteenmiles, through roads marked only by blazed lines; nor were there at thattime any settlers near us. Now you see us in a cleared country, surrounded with flourishing farms and rising villages; but at the time Ispeak of it was not so: there were no stores of groceries or goods, nobutchers' shops, no cleared farms, dairies, nor orchards; for thesethings we had to wait with patience till industry should raise them. 

"Our fare knew no other variety than salt pork, potatoes, and sometimesbread, for breakfast; pork and potatoes for dinner; pork and potatoesfor supper; with a porridge of Indian corn-flour for the children. Sometimes we had the change of pork without potatoes, and potatoeswithout pork; this was the first year's fare: by degrees we got a supplyof flour of our own growing, but bruised into a coarse meal with a hand-mill; for we had no water or windmills within many miles of our colony, and good bread was indeed a luxury we did not often have. 

"We brought a cow with us, who gave us milk during the spring andsummer; but owing to the wild garlic (a wild herb, common to our woods), on which she fed, her milk was scarcely palatable, and for want ofshelter and food, she died the following winter, greatly to our sorrow:we learned experience in this and in many other matters at a hard cost;but now we can profit by it. "

"Did not the difficulties of your first settlement incline you todespond, and regret that you had ever embarked on a life so different tothat you had been used to?" I asked. 

"They might have had that effect had not a higher motive than mereworldly advancement actuated me in leaving my native country to comehither. Look you, it was thus: I had for many years been the pastor of asmall village in the mining districts of Cumberland. I was dear to thehearts of my people, and they were my joy and crown in the Lord. Anumber of my parishioners, pressed by poverty and the badness of thetimes, resolved on emigrating to Canada. 

"Urged by a natural and not unlawful desire of bettering theircondition, they determined on crossing the Atlantic, encouraged by theoffer of considerable grants of wild land, which at that period werefreely awarded by Government to persons desirous of becoming colonists. 

"But previous to this undertaking, several of the most respectable cameto me, and stated their views and reasons for the momentous step theywere about to take; and at the same time besought me in the most movingterms, in the name of the rest of their emigrant friends, to accompanythem into the Wilderness of the West, lest they should forget their Lordand Saviour when abandoned to their own spiritual guidance. 

"At first I was startled at the proposition; it seemed a wild andvisionary scheme: but by degrees I began to dwell with pleasure on thesubject. I had few ties beyond my native village; the income arisingfrom my curacy was too small to make it any great obstacle: likeGoldsmith's curate, I was. 

'Passing rich with forty pounds a year. '

My heart yearned after my people; ten years I had been their guide andadviser. I was the friend of the old, and the teacher of the young. MyMary was chosen from among them; she had no foreign ties to make herlook back with regret upon the dwellers of the land in distant places;her youth and maturity had been spent among these very people; so thatwhen I named to her the desire of my parishioners, and she alsoperceived that my own wishes went with them, she stifled any regretfulfeeling that might have arisen in her breast, and replied to me in thewords of Ruth:--

"'Thy country shall be my country; thy people shall be my people; wherethou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me. '

"A tender and affectionate partner hast thou been to me, Mary, " headded, turning his eyes affectionately on the mild and dignified matron, whose expressive countenance bespoke with more eloquence than words thefeelings passing in her mind. She replied not by words, but I saw thebig bright tears fall on the work she held in her hand. They sprang fromemotions too sacred to be profaned by intrusive eyes, and I hastilyaverted my glance from her face; while the pastor proceeded to narratethe particulars of their leaving England, their voyage, and finally, their arrival in the land that had been granted to the little colony inthe then unbroken part of the township of ------. 

"We had obtained a great deal of useful advice and assistance from theGovernment agents previous to our coming up hither, and also hired somechoppers at high wages to initiate us in the art of felling, logging, burning, and clearing the ground; as it was our main object to get incrops of some kind, we turned to without any delay further than what wasnecessary for providing a temporary shelter for our wives and children, and prepared the ground for spring crops, helping each other as we couldwith the loan of oxen and labour. And here I must observe, that Iexperienced every attention and consideration from my friends. My meanswere small, and my family all too young to render me any service;however, I lacked not help, and had the satisfaction of seeing a littlespot cleared for the growth of potatoes and corn, which I could not haveeffected by my single exertions. 

"My biggest boy John was but nine years old, Willie seven, and theothers still more helpless; the two little ones you see there, " pointingto two young children, "have been born since we came hither. Thatyellow-haired lassie knitting beside you was a babe at the breast;--ahelpless, wailing infant, so weak and sickly before we came here thatshe was scarcely ever out of her mother's arms; but she grew and throverapidly under the rough treatment of a bush-settler's family. 

"We had no house built, or dwelling of any kind to receive us when wearrived at our destination; and the first two nights were passed on thebanks of the creek that flows at the foot of the hill, in a hut of cedarand hemlock boughs that I cut with my axe, and, with the help of some ofmy companions, raised to shelter my wife and the little ones. 

"Though it was the middle of May the nights were chilly, and we wereglad to burn a pile of wood in front of our hut to secure us from theeffects of the cold and the stings of the mosquitoes, that came up inmyriads from the stream, and which finally drove us higher up the bank. 

"As soon as possible we raised a shanty, which now serves as a shed formy young cattle; I would not pull it down, though often urged to do so, as it stands in the way of a pleasant prospect from the window; but Ilike to look on it, and recall to mind the first years I passed beneathits lowly roof. We need such mementos to remind us of our former state;but we grow proud, and cease to appreciate our present comforts. 

"Our first Sabbath was celebrated in the open air: my pulpit was a pileof rude logs; my church the deep shade of the forest, beneath which weassembled ourselves; but sincerer or more fervent devotion I neverwitnessed than that day. I well remember the text I chose, for myaddress to them was from the viiith chapter of Deuteronomy, the 6th, 7th, and 9th verses, which appeared to me applicable to ourcircumstances. 

"The following year we raised a small blockhouse, which served as aschool-house and church. At first our progress in clearing the land wasslow, for we had to buy experience, and many and great were thedisappointments and privations that befel us during the first few years. One time we were all ill with ague, and not one able to help the other;this was a sad time; but better things were in store for us. The tide ofemigration increased, and the little settlement we had formed began tobe well spoken of. One man came and built a saw mill; a grist-millfollowed soon after; and then one store and then another, till we behelda flourishing village spring up around us. Then the land began toincrease in value, and many of the first settlers sold their lots toadvantage, and retreated further up the woods. As the village increased, so, of course, did my professional duties, which had for the first fewyears been paid for in acts of kindness and voluntary labour by mylittle flock; now I have the satisfaction of reaping a reward withoutproving burdensome to my parishioners. My farm is increasing, andbesides the salary arising from my curacy I have something additionalfor the school, which is paid by Government. We may now say it is goodfor us to be here, seeing that God has been pleased to send down ablessing upon us. "

I have forgotten many very interesting particulars relating to thetrials and shifts this family were put to in the first few years; butthe pastor told us enough to make me quite contented with my lot, and Ireturned home, after some days' pleasant sojourn with this delightfulfamily, with an additional stock of contentment, and some useful andpractical knowledge, that I trust I shall be the better for all my life. 

I am rather interested in a young lad that has come out from England tolearn Canadian farming. 

The poor boy had conceived the most romantic notions of a settler'slife, partly from the favourable accounts he had read, and partlythrough the medium of a lively imagination, which had aided in thedeception, and led him to suppose that his time would be chiefly spentin the fascinating amusements and adventures arising from hunting theforest in search of deer and other game, pigeon and duck-shooting, spearing fish by torchlight, and voyaging on the lakes in a birch-barkcanoe in summer, skating in winter, or gliding over the frozen snow likea Laplander in his sledge, wrapped up to the eyes in furs, andtravelling at the rate of twelve miles an hour to the sound of anharmonious peal of bells. What a felicitous life to captivate the mindof a boy of fourteen, just let loose from the irksome restraint ofboarding-school!

How little did he dream of the drudgery inseparable from the duties of alad of his age, in a country where the old and young, the master and theservant, are alike obliged to labour for a livelihood, without respectto former situation or rank!

Here the son of the gentleman becomes a hewer of wood and drawer ofwater; he learns to chop down trees, to pile brush-heaps, split railsfor fences, attend the fires during the burning season, dressed in acoarse over-garment of hempen cloth, called a logging-shirt, withtrousers to correspond, and a Yankee straw hat flapped over his eyes, and a handspike to assist him in rolling over the burning brands. Totend and drive oxen, plough, sow, plant Indian corn and pumpkins, andraise potatoe-hills, are among some of the young emigrant'saccomplishments. His relaxations are but comparatively few, but they areseized with a relish and avidity that give them the greater charm. 

You may imagine the disappointment felt by the poor lad on seeing hisfair visions of amusement fade before the dull realities and distastefuldetails of a young settler's occupation in the backwoods. 

Youth, however, is the best season for coming to this country; the mindsoon bends itself to its situation, and becomes not only reconciled, butin time pleased with the change of life. There is a consolation, too, inseeing that he does no more than others of equal pretensions as to rankand education are obliged to submit to, if they would prosper; andperhaps he lives to bless the country which has robbed him of a portionof that absurd pride that made him look with contempt on those whoseoccupations were of a humble nature. It were a thousand pities wilfullyto deceive persons desirous of emigrating with false and flatteringpictures of the advantages to be met with in this country. Let the _pro_and _con_ be fairly stated, and let the reader use his best judgment, unbiassed by prejudice or interest in a matter of such vital importancenot only as regards himself, but the happiness and welfare of those overwhose destinies Nature has made him the guardian. It is, however, farmore difficult to write on the subject of emigration than most personsthink: it embraces so wide a field that what would be perfectly correctas regards one part of the province would by no means prove so asregarded another. One district differs from another, and one townshipfrom another, according to its natural advantages; whether it be longsettled or unsettled, possessing water privileges or not; the soil andeven the climate will be different, according to situation andcircumstances. 

Much depends on the tempers, habits, and dispositions of the emigrantsthemselves. What suits one will not another; one family will flourish, and accumulate every comfort about their homesteads, while otherslanguish in poverty and discontent. It would take volumes to discussevery argument for and against, and to point out exactly who are and whoare not fit subjects for emigration. 

Have you read Dr. Dunlop's spirited and witty "Backwoodsman?" If youhave not, get it as soon as you can; it will amuse you. I think aBackwoods-woman might be written in the same spirit, setting forth a fewpages, in the history of bush-ladies, as examples for our sex. Indeed, we need some wholesome admonitions on our duties and the folly ofrepining at following and sharing the fortunes of our spouses, whom wehave vowed in happier hours to love "in riches and in poverty, insickness and in health. " Too many pronounce these words without heedingtheir importance, and without calculating the chances that may put theirfaithfulness to the severe test of quitting home, kindred, and country, to share the hard lot of a settler's life; for even this sacrificerenders it hard to be borne; but the truly attached wife will do this, and more also, if required by the husband of her choice. 

But now it is time I say farewell: my dull letter, grown to a formidablepacket, will tire you, and make you wish it at the bottom of theAtlantic. 

LETTER XVI. 

Indian Hunters. --Sail in a Canoe. --Want of Libraries in the Backwoods. --New Village. --Progress of Improvement. --Fire-flies. 

HAVING in a former letter given you some account of a winter visit tothe Indians, I shall now give a short sketch of their summer encampment, which I went to see one beautiful afternoon in June, accompanied by myhusband and some friends that had come in to spend the day with us. 

The Indians were encamped on a little peninsula jutting out between twosmall lakes; our nearest path would have been through the bush, but theground was so encumbered by fallen trees that we agreed to go in acanoe. The day was warm, without being oppressively hot, as it too oftenis during the summer months: and for a wonder the mosquitoes and black-flies were so civil as not to molest us. Our light bark skimmed gailyover the calm waters, beneath the overhanging shade of cedars, hemlock, and balsams, that emitted a delicious fragrance as the passing breezeswept through the boughs. I was in raptures with a bed of blue irisesmixed with snow-white water-lilies that our canoe passed over. Turningthe stony bank that formed the point, we saw the thin blue smoke of thecamp curling above the trees, and soon our canoe was safely mooredalongside of those belonging to the Indians, and by help of thestraggling branches and underwood I contrived to scramble up a steeppath, and soon found myself in front of the tent. It was a Sundayafternoon; all the men were at home; some of the younger branches of thefamilies (for there were three that inhabited the wigwam) were amusingthemselves with throwing the tomahawk at a notch cut in the bark of adistant tree, or shooting at a mark with their bows and arrows, whilethe elders reposed on their blankets within the shade, some reading, others smoking, and gravely eyeing the young rival marksmen at theirfeats of skill. 

Only one of the squaws was at home; this was my old acquaintance thehunter's wife, who was sitting on a blanket; her youngest, little David, a papouse of three years, who was not yet weaned, was reposing betweenher feet; she often eyed him with looks of great affection, and pattedhis shaggy head from time to time. Peter, who is a sort of great man, though not a chief, sat beside his spouse, dressed in a handsome bluesurtout-coat, with a red worsted sash about his waist. He was smoking ashort pipe, and viewing the assembled party at the door of the tent withan expression of quiet interest; sometimes he lifted his pipe for aninstant to give a sort of inward exclamation at the success or failureof his sons' attempts to hit the mark on the tree. The old squaw, assoon as she saw me, motioned me forward, and pointing to a vacantportion of her blanket, with a good-natured smile, signed for me to sitbeside her, which I did, and amused myself with taking note of theinterior of the wigwam and its inhabitants. The building was of anoblong form, open at both ends, but at night I was told the openingswere closed by blankets; the upper part of the roof was also open; thesides were rudely fenced with large sheets of birch bark, drawn in andout between the sticks that made the frame-work of the tent; a longslender pole of iron-wood formed a low beam, from which depended sundryiron and brass pots and kettles, also some joints of fresh-killedvenison and dried fish; the fires occupied the centre of the hut, aroundthe embers of which reposed several meek deer-hounds; they evincedsomething of the quiet apathy of their masters, merely opening theireyes to look upon the intruders, and seeing all was well returned totheir former slumbers, perfectly unconcerned by our entrance. 

The hunter's family occupied one entire side of the building, whileJoseph Muskrat with his family, and Joseph Bolans and his squaw sharedthe opposite one, their several apartments being distinguished by theirblankets, fishing-spears, rifles, tomahawks, and other property; as tothe cooking utensils they seemed from their scarcity to be held incommon among them; perfect amity appeared among the three families; and, if one might judge from outward appearance, they seemed happy andcontented. On examining the books that were in the hands of the youngmen, they proved to be hymns and tracts, one side printed in English, the other the Indian translation. In compliance with our wishes the mensang one of the hymns, which sounded very well, but we missed the sweetvoices of the Indian girls, whom I had left in front of the house, sitting on a pine-log and amusing themselves with my baby, and seeminghighly delighted with him and his nurse. 

Outside the tent the squaw showed me a birch-bark canoe that wasbuilding; the shape of the canoe is marked out by sticks stuck in theground at regular distances; the sheets of bark being wetted, andsecured in their proper places by cedar laths, which are bent so as toserve the purpose of ribs or timbers; the sheets of bark are stitchedtogether with the tough roots of the tamarack, and the edges of thecanoe also sewed or laced over with the same material; the whole is thenvarnished over with a thick gum. 

I had the honour of being paddled home by Mrs. Peter in a new canoe, just launched, and really the motion was delightful; seated at thebottom of the little bark, on a few light hemlock boughs, I enjoyed myvoyage home exceedingly. The canoe, propelled by the Amazonian arm ofthe swarthy matron, flew swiftly over the waters, and I was soon landedin a little cove within a short distance from my own door. In return forthe squaw's civility I delighted her by a present of a few beads forworking mocassins and knife-sheaths, with which she seemed very wellpleased, carefully securing her treasure by tying them in a corner ofher blanket with a bit of thread. 

With a peculiar reserve and gravity of temper, there is at the same timea degree of childishness about the Indians in some things. I gave thehunter and his son one day some coloured prints, which they seemedmightily taken with, laughing immoderately at some of the fashionablydressed figures. When they left the house they seated themselves on afallen tree, and called their hounds round them, displaying to eachseverally the pictures. 

The poor animals, instead of taking a survey of the gaily dressed ladiesand gentlemen, held up their meek heads and licked their masters' handsand faces; but old Peter was resolved the dogs should share theamusement of looking at the pictures and turned their faces to them, holding them fast by their long ears when they endeavoured to escape. Icould hardly have supposed the grave Indian capable of such childishbehaviour. 

These Indians appear less addicted to gay and tinselly adornments thanformerly, and rather affect a European style in their dress; it is nounusual sight to see an Indian habited in a fine cloth coat andtrousers, though I must say the blanket-coats provided for them byGovernment, and which form part of their annual presents, are far moresuitable and becoming. The squaws, too, prefer cotton or stuff gowns, aprons and handkerchiefs, and such useful articles, to any sort offinery, though they like well enough to look at and admire them; theydelight nevertheless in decking out the little ones, embroidering theircradle wrappings with silks and beads, and tacking the wings of birds totheir shoulders. I was a little amused by the appearance of one of theseIndian Cupids, adorned with the wings of the American war-bird; a verybeautiful creature, something like our British bullfinch, only far morelively in plumage: the breast and under-feathers of the wings being atint of the most brilliant carmine, shaded with black and white. Thisbird has been called the "war-bird, " from its having first made itsappearance in this province during the late American war; a fact that Ibelieve is well authenticated, or at any rate has obtained generalcredence. 

I could hardly help smiling at your notion that we in the backwoods canhave easy access to a circulation library. In one sense, indeed, you arenot so far from truth, for every settler's library may be called acirculating one, as their books are sure to pass from friend to friendin due rotation; and, fortunately for us, we happen to have severalexcellently furnished ones in our neighbourhood, which are always opento us. There is a public library at York, and a small circulatinglibrary at Cobourg, but they might just as well be on the other side ofthe Atlantic for any access we can have to them. 

I know how it is; at home you have the same idea of the facility oftravelling in this country as I once had: now I know what bush-roadsare, a few miles' journey seems an awful undertaking. Do you remember myaccount of a day's travelling through the woods? I am sorry to say theyare but little amended since that letter was written. I have only onceventured to perform a similar journey, which took several hours _hard_travelling, and, more by good luck than any other thing, arrived withwhole bones at my destination. I could not help laughing at the frequentexclamations of the teamster, a shrewd Yorkshire lad, "Oh, if I had butthe driving of his excellency the governor along this road, how I wouldmake the old horses trot over the stumps and stones, till he should cryout again; I warrant he'd do _summut_ to mend them before he came alongthem again. "

Unfortunately it is not a statute-road on this side the river, and hasbeen cut by the settlers for their own convenience, so that I fearnothing will be done to improve it, unless it is by the inhabitantsthemselves. 

We hope soon to have a market for our grain nearer at hand thanPeterborough; a grist-mill has just been raised at the new village thatis springing up. This will prove a great comfort to us; we have atpresent to fetch flour up at a great expense, through bad roads, and theloss of time to those that are obliged to send wheat to the town to beground, is a serious evil; this will soon be remedied, to the joy of thewhole neighbourhood. 

You do not know how important these improvements are, and what effectthey have in raising the spirits of the emigrant, besides enhancing thevalue of his property in no trifling degree. We have already experiencedthe benefit of being near the saw-mill, as it not only enables us tobuild at a smaller expense, but enables us to exchange logs for sawnlumber. The great pine-trees which, under other circumstances, would bean encumbrance and drawback to clearing the land, prove a mostprofitable crop when cleared off in the form of saw-logs, which iseasily done where they are near the water; the logs are sawn to acertain length, and dragged by oxen, during the winter, when the groundis hard, to the lake's edge; when the ice breaks up, the logs float downwith the current and enter the mill-race; I have seen the lake oppositeto our windows covered with these floating timbers, voyaging down to thesaw-mill. 

How valuable would the great oaks and gigantic pines be on an estate inEngland; while here they are as little thought of as saplings would beat home. Some years hence the timbers that are now burned up will beregretted. Yet it is impossible to preserve them; they would prove agreat encumbrance to the farmer. The oaks are desirable for splitting, as they make the most durable fences; pine, cedar, and white ash arealso used for rail-cuts; maple and dry beech are the best sorts of woodfor fires: white ash burns well. In making ley for soap, care is takento use none but the ashes of hard wood, as oak, ash, maple, beech; anyof the resinous trees are bad for the purpose, and the ley will notmingle with the fat. In boiling, to the great mortification of theuninitiated soap-boiler, who, by being made acquainted with this simplefact, might have been spared much useless trouble and waste of material, after months of careful saving. 

An American settler's wife told me this, and bade me be careful not tomake use of any of the pine-wood ashes in running the ley. And here Imust observe, that of all people the Yankees, as they are termed, arethe most industrious and ingenious; they are never at a loss for anexpedient: if one thing fails them they adopt another, with a quicknessof thought that surprises me, while to them it seems only a matter ofcourse. They seem to possess a sort of innate presence of mind, andinstead of wasting their energies in words, they _act_. The old settlersthat have been long among them seem to acquire the same sort of habits, insomuch that it is difficult to distinguish them. I have heard theAmericans called a loquacious boasting people; now, as far as my limitedacquaintance with them goes, I consider they are almost laconic, and ifI dislike them it is for a certain cold brevity of manner that seems toplace a barrier between you and them. 

I was somewhat struck with a remark made by a travelling clock-maker, anative of the state of Ohio. After speaking of the superior climate ofOhio, in answer to some questions of my husband, he said, he wassurprised that gentlemen should prefer the Canadas, especially the bush, where for many years they must want all the comforts and luxuries oflife, to the rich, highly cultivated, and fruitful state of Ohio, whereland was much cheaper, both cleared and wild. 

To this we replied that, in the first place, British subjects preferredthe British government; and, besides, they were averse to the manners ofhis countrymen. He candidly admitted the first objection; and in replyto the last observed, that the Americans at large ought not to be judgedby the specimens to be found in the British colonies, as they were, forthe most part, persons of no reputation, many of whom had fled to theCanadas to escape from debt, or other disgraceful conduct; and added, "It would be hard if the English were to be judged as a nation by theconvicts of Botany Bay. "

Now there was nothing unfair or rude in the manners of this stranger, and his defence of his nation was mild and reasonable, and such as anyunprejudiced person must have respected him for. 

I have just been interrupted by a friend, who has called to tell me hehas an opportunity of sending safe and free of expense to London orLiverpool, and that he will enclose a packet for me in the box he ispacking for England. 

I am delighted by the intelligence, but regret that I have nothing but afew flower-seeds, a specimen of Indian workmanship, and a fewbutterflies to send you--the latter are for Jane. I hope all will notshare the fate of the last I sent. Sarah wrote me word, when they cameto look for the green moth I had enclosed in a little box, nothing ofhis earthly remains was visible beyond a little dust and some pink feet. I have, with some difficulty, been able to procure another and finerspecimen; and, for fear it should meet with a similar annihilation, Iwill at least preserve the memory of its beauties, and give you adescription of it. 

It is just five inches from wing to wing; the body the thickness of mylittle finger, snow-white, covered with long silken hair; the legsbright red, so are the antennae, which are toothed like a comb on eitherside, shorter than those of butterflies and elegantly curled; the wings, both upper and under, are of the most exquisite pale tint of green, fringed at the edges with golden colour; each wing has a small shadedcrescent of pale blue, deep red, and orange; the blue forming thecentre, like a half-closed eye; the lower wings elongated in deepscollop, so as to form two long tails, like those of the swallow-tailbutterfly, only a full inch in length and deeply fringed; on the wholethis moth is the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. 

We have a variety of the peacock butterfly, that is very rich, withinnumerable eyes on the wings. The yellow swallow-tail is also verycommon, and the black and blue admiral, and the red, white, and blackadmiral, with many other beautiful varieties that I cannot describe. Thelargest butterfly I have yet seen is a gay vermilion, marked with jetblack lines that form an elegant black lace pattern over its wide wings. 

Then for dragon-flies, we have them of every size, shape, and colour. Iwas particularly charmed by a pair of superb blue ones that I used tosee this summer in my walk to visit my sister. They were as large asbutterflies, with black gauze wings; on each pair was marked a crescentof the brightest azure blue, shaded with scarlet; the bodies of thesebeautiful creatures were also blue. I have seen them scarlet and black, yellow and black, copper-coloured, green, and brown; the latter aregreat enemies to the mosquitoes and other small insects, and may be seenin vast numbers flitting around in all directions of an evening insearch of prey. 

The fire-flies must not be forgotten, for of all others they are themost remarkable; their appearance generally precedes rain; they areoften seen after dark, on mild damp evenings, sporting among the cedarsat the edge of the wood, and especially near swamps, when the air isilluminated with their brilliant dancing light. Sometimes they may beseen in groups, glancing like falling stars in mid-air, or descending solow as to enter your dwelling and flit about among the draperies of yourbed or window curtains; the light they emit is more brilliant than thatof the glowworm; but it is produced in the same manner from the underpart of the body. The glowworm is also frequently seen, even as late asSeptember, on mild, warm, dewy nights. 

We have abundance of large and small beetles, some most splendid: greenand gold, rose-colour, red and black, yellow and black; some quiteblack, formidably large, with wide branching horns. Wasps are not sotroublesome as in England, but I suppose it is because we cannot offersuch temptations as our home gardens hold out to these ravenous insects. 

One of our choppers brought me the other day what he called a hornet'snest; it was certainly too small and delicate a piece of workmanship forso large an insect; and I rather conjecture that it belonged to thebeautiful black and gold insect called the wasp-fly, but of this I amnot certain. The nest was about the size and shape of a turkey's egg, and was composed of six paper cups inserted one within the other, eachlessening till the innermost of all appeared not larger than a pigeon'segg. On looking carefully within the orifice of the last cup, a smallcomb, containing twelve cells, of the most exquisite neatness, might beperceived, if anything, superior in regularity to the cells in the combof the domestic bee, one of which was at least equal to three of these. The substance that composed the cups was of a fine silver grey silkentexture, as fine as the finest India silk paper, and extremely brittle;when slightly wetted it became glutinous, and adhered a little to thefinger; the whole was carefully fixed to a stick: I have seen one sincefastened to a rough rail. I could not but admire the instinctive caredisplayed in the formation of this exquisite piece of insectarchitecture to guard the embryo animal from injury, either from thevoracity of birds or the effect of rain, which could scarcely findentrance in the interior. 

I had carefully, as I thought, preserved my treasure, by putting it inone of my drawers, but a wicked little thief of a mouse found it out andtore it to pieces for the sake of the drops of honey contained in one ortwo of the cells. I was much vexed, as I purposed sending it by somefavourable opportunity to a dear friend living in Gloucester Place, whotook great delight in natural curiosities, and once showed me a nest ofsimilar form to this, that had been found in a bee-hive; the materialwas much coarser, and, if I remember right, had but two cases instead ofsix. 

I have always felt a great desire to see the nest of a humming-bird, buthitherto have been disappointed. This summer I had some beds ofmignionette and other flowers, with some most splendid majorconvolvuluses or "morning gloves, " as the Americans call them; theselovely flowers tempted the hummingbirds to visit my garden, and I hadthe pleasure of seeing a pair of those beautiful creatures, but theirflight is so peculiar that it hardly gives you a perfect sight of theircolours; their motion when on the wing resembles the whirl of aspinning-wheel, and the sound they make is like the hum of a wheel atwork; I shall plant flowers to entice them to build near us. 

I sometimes fear you will grow weary of my long dull letters; my onlyresources are domestic details and the natural history of the country, which I give whenever I think the subject has novelty to recommend it toyour attention. Possibly I may sometimes disappoint you by details thatappear to place the state of the emigrant in an unfavourable light; Imerely give facts as I have seen, or heard them stated. I could give youmany flourishing accounts of settlers in this country; I could alsoreverse the picture, and you would come to the conclusion that there aremany arguments to be used both for and against emigration. Now, thegreatest argument, and that which has the most weight, is NECESSITY, andthis will always turn the scale in the favour of emigration; and thatsame imperative dame Necessity tells me it is _necessary_ for me to drawmy letter to a conclusion. 

Farewell, ever faithfully and affectionately, your attached sister. 

LETTER XVII. 

Ague. --Illness of the Family. --Probable Cause. --Root-house. --Setting inof Winter. --Insect termed a "Sawyer. "--Temporary Church. 

November the 28th, 1834. 

You will have been surprised, and possibly distressed, by my longsilence of several months, but when I tell you it has been occasioned bysickness, you will cease to wonder that I did not write. 

My dear husband, my servant, the poor babe, and myself, were all at onetime confined to our beds with ague. You know how severe my sufferingsalways were at home with intermittents, and need not marvel if they wereno less great in a country where lake-fevers and all kinds ofintermittent fevers abound. 

Few persons escape the second year without being afflicted with thisweakening complaint; the mode of treatment is repeated doses of calomel, with castor-oil or salts, and is followed up by quinine. Those personswho do not choose to employ medical advice on the subject, dosethemselves with ginger-tea, strong infusion of hyson, or any otherpowerful green tea, pepper, and whiskey, with many other remedies thathave the sanction of custom or quackery. 

I will not dwell on this uncomfortable period, further than to tell youthat we considered the complaint to have had its origin in a malaria, arising from a cellar below the kitchen. When the snow melted, thiscellar became half full of water, either from the moisture drainingthrough the spongy earth, or from the rising of a spring beneath thehouse; be it as it may, the heat of the cooking and Franklin stoves inthe kitchen and parlour, caused a fermentation to take place in thestagnant fluid before it could be emptied; the effluvia arising fromthis mass of putrifying water affected us all. The female servant, whowas the most exposed to its baneful influence, was the first of ourhousehold that fell sick, after which, we each in turn became unable toassist each other. I think I suffer an additional portion of the maladyfrom seeing the sufferings of my dear husband and my beloved child. 

I lost the ague in a fortnight's time, --thanks to calomel and quinine;so did my babe and his nurse: it has, however, hung on my husband duringthe whole of the summer, and thrown a damp upon his exertions and gloomupon his spirits. This is the certain effect of ague, it causes the samesort of depression on the spirits as a nervous fever. My dear child hasnot been well ever since he had the ague, and looks very pale andspiritless. 

We should have been in a most miserable condition, being unable toprocure a female servant, a nurse, or any one to attend upon us, andtotally unable to help ourselves; but for the prompt assistance of Maryon one side, and Susannah on the other, I know not what would havebecome of us in our sore trouble. 

This summer has been excessively hot and dry; the waters in the lakesand rivers being lower than they had been known for many years; scarcelya drop of rain fell for several weeks. This extreme drought rendered thepotatoe-crop a decided failure. Our Indian-corn was very fine; so werethe pumpkins. We had some fine vegetables in the garden, especially thepeas and melons; the latter were very large and fine. The cultivation ofthe melon is very simple: you first draw the surrounding earth togetherwith a broad hoe into a heap; the middle of this heap is then slightlyhollowed out, so as to form a basin, the mould being raised round theedges; into this hollow you insert several melon-seeds, and leave therest to the summer heat; if you water the plants from time to time, itis well for them; the soil should be fine black mould; and if your hillsare inclining to a hollow part of your ground, so as to retain themoisture, so much the finer will be your fruit. It is the opinion ofpractical persons who have bought wisdom by some years' experience ofthe country, that in laying out and planting a garden, the beds shouldnot be raised, as is the usual custom; and give us a reason, that thesun having such great power draws the moisture more readily from theearth where the beds are elevated above the level, and, in consequenceof the dryness of the ground, the plants wither away. 

As there appears some truth in the remark, I am inclined to adopt theplan. 

Vegetables are in general fine, and come quickly to maturity, considering the lateness of the season in which they are usually putinto the ground. Peas are always fine, especially the marrowfats, whichare sometimes grown in the fields, on cleared lands that are under theplough. We have a great variety of beans, all of the French or kidneykind; there is a very prolific white runner, of which I send you some ofthe seed: the method of planting them is to raise a small hillock ofmould by drawing the earth up with the hoe; flatten this, or ratherhollow it a little in the middle, and drop in four or five seeds roundthe edges; as soon as the bean puts forth its runners insert a pole offive or six feet in the centre of the hill; the plants will all meet andtwine up it, bearing a profusion of pods, which are cut and foiled asthe scarlet-runners, or else, in their dry or ripe state, stewed andeaten with salt meat; this, I believe, is the more usual way of cookingthem. The early bush-bean is a dwarf, with bright yellow seed. 

Lettuces are very fine, and may be cultivated easily, and very early, bytransplanting the seedlings that appear as soon as the ground is freefrom snow. Cabbages and savoys, and all sorts of roots, keep during thewinter in the cellars or root-houses; but to the vile custom of keepinggreen vegetables in the shallow, moist cellars below the kitchens, muchof the sickness that attacks settlers under the various forms of agues, intermittent, remittent, and lake-fevers, may be traced. 

Many, of the lower class especially, are not sufficiently careful inclearing these cellars from the decaying portions of vegetable matter, which are often suffered to accumulate from year to year to infect theair of the dwelling. Where the house is small, and the family numerous, and consequently exposed to its influence by night, the banefulconsequences may be readily imagined. "Do not tell me of lakes andswamps as the cause of fevers and agues; look to your cellars, " was theobservation of a blunt but experienced Yankee doctor. I verily believeit was the cellar that was the cause of sickness in our house all thespring and summer. 

A root-house is indispensably necessary for the comfort of a settler'sfamily; if well constructed, with double log-walls, and the roof securedfrom the soaking in of the rain or melting snows, it preservesvegetables, meat, and milk excellently. You will ask if the use be sogreat, and the comfort so essential, why does not every settler buildone?

Now, dear mamma, this is exactly what every new comer says; but he hasto learn the difficulty there is at first of getting these mattersaccomplished, unless, indeed, he have (which is not often the case) thecommand of plenty of ready money, and can afford to employ extraworkmen. Labour is so expensive, and the working seasons so short, thatmany useful and convenient buildings are left to a future time; and acellar, which one man can excavate in two days, if he work well, is madeto answer the purpose, till the season of leisure arrives, or necessityobliges the root-house to be made. We are ourselves proof of this verysort of unwilling procrastination; but the logs are now cut for theroot-house, and we shall have one early in the spring. I would, however, recommend any one that could possibly do so at first, to build a root-house without delay, and also to have a well dug; the springs lying veryfew feet below the surface renders this neither laborious or veryexpensive. The creeks will often fail in very dry weather, and the lakeand river-waters grow warm and distasteful during the spring and summer. The spring-waters are generally cold and pure, even in the hottestweather, and delightfully refreshing. 

Our winter seems now fairly setting in: the snow has twice fallen, andas often disappeared, since the middle of October; but now the ground isagain hardening into stone; the keen north-west wind is abroad; andevery outward object looks cold and wintry. The dark line of pines thatbound the opposite side of the lake is already hoary and heavy withsnow, while the half-frozen lake has a deep leaden tint, which is onlyvaried in shade by the masses of ice which shoot out in long points, forming mimic bays and peninsulas. The middle of the stream, where thecurrent is strongest, is not yet frozen over, but runs darkly along likea river between its frozen banks. In some parts where the banks aresteep and overhung with roots and shrubs, the fallen snow and water takethe most fantastic forms. 

I have stood of a bright winter day looking with infinite delight on thebeautiful mimic waterfalls congealed into solid ice along the bank ofthe river; and by the mill-dam, from contemplating these petty frolicsof Father Frost, I have been led to picture to myself the sublimescenery of the arctic regions. 

In spite of its length and extreme severity, I do like the Canadianwinter: it is decidedly the healthiest season of the year; and it is nosmall enjoyment to be exempted from the torments of the insect tribes, that are certainly great drawbacks to your comfort in the warmer months. 

We have just received your last packet;--a thousand thanks for thecontents. We are all delighted with your useful presents, especially thewarm shawls and merinos. My little James looks extremely well in his newfrock and cloak; they will keep him very warm this cold weather: hekissed the pretty fur-lined slippers you sent me, and said, "Pussy, pussy. " By the way, we have a fine cat called Nora Crena, the partinggift of our friend ------, who left her as a keepsake for my boy. Jamiedotes upon her; and I do assure you I regard her almost as a secondWhittington's cat: neither mouse nor chitmunk has dared intrude withinour log-walls since she made her appearance; the very crickets, thatused to distract us with their chirping from morning till night, haveforsaken their old haunts. Besides the crickets, which often swarm so asto become intolerable nuisances, destroying your clothes and woollens, we are pestered by large black ants, that gallop about, eating up sugarpreserves, cakes, anything nice they can gain access to; these insectsare three times the size of the black ants of Britain, and have a mostvoracious appetite: when they find no better prey they kill each other, and that with the fierceness and subtilty of the spider. They appearless sociable in their habits than other ants; though, from the numbersthat invade your dwellings, I should think they formed a community likethe rest of their species. 

The first year's residence in a new log-house you are disturbed by acontinual creaking sound which grates upon the ears exceedingly, tillyou become accustomed to it: this is produced by an insect commonlycalled a "sawyer. " This is the larvae of some fly that deposits its eggsin the bark of the pine-trees. The animal in its immature state is of awhitish colour, the body composed of eleven rings; the head armed with apair of short, hard pincers: the skin of this creature is so rough thaton passing your finger over it, it reminds you of a rasp, yet to the eyeit is perfectly smooth. You would be surprised at the heap of fine saw-dust that is to be seen below the hole they have been working in allnight. These sawyers form a fine feast for the woodpeckers, and jointlythey assist in promoting the rapid decomposition of the gigantic forest-trees, that would otherwise encumber the earth from age to age. Howinfinite is that Wisdom that rules the natural world! How often do wesee great events brought about by seemingly insignificant agents! Yetare they all servants of the Most High, working his will, and fulfillinghis behests. One great want which has been sensibly felt in this distantsettlement, I mean the want of public worship on the Sabbath-day, promises to be speedily remedied. A subscription is about to be openedamong the settlers of this and part of the adjacent township for theerection of a small building, which may answer the purpose of church andschool-house; also for the means of paying a minister for stated seasonsof attendance. 

------ has allowed his parlour to be used as a temporary church, andservice has been several times performed by a highly respectable youngScotch clergyman; and I can assure you we have a considerablecongregation, considering how scattered the inhabitants are, and thatthe emigrants consist of catholics and dissenters, as well asepiscopalians. 

These distinctions, however, are not carried to such lengths in thiscountry as at home; especially where the want of religious observanceshas been sensibly felt. The word of God appears to be listened to withgladness. May a blessing attend those that in spirit and in truth wouldrestore again to us the public duties of the Sabbath, which, left to ourown guidance, we are but too much inclined to neglect. 

Farewell. 

LETTER XVIII. 

Busy Spring. --Increase of Society and Comfort. --Recollections of Home. --Aurora Borealis

THIS has been a busy spring with us. First, sugar-making on a largerscale than our first attempt was, and since that we had workmen makingconsiderable addition to our house; we have built a large and convenientkitchen, taking the former one for a bedroom; the root-house and dairyare nearly completed. We have a well of excellent water close beside thedoor, and a fine frame-barn was finished this week, which includes agood granary and stable, with a place for my poultry, in which I takegreat delight. 

Besides a fine brood of fowls, the produce of two hens and a cock, or_rooster_, as the Yankees term that bird, I have some ducks, and am tohave turkeys and geese this summer. I lost several of my best fowls, notby the hawk but a horrid beast of the same nature as our polecat, calledhere a scunck; it is far more destructive in its nature than either foxor the hawk, for he comes like a thief in the night and invades theperch, leaving headless mementos of his barbarity and blood-thirstypropensities. 

We are having the garden, which hitherto has been nothing but a squareenclosure for vegetables, laid out in a prettier form; two half circularwings sweep off from the entrance to each side of the house; the fenceis a sort of rude basket or hurdle-work, such as you see at home, calledby the country folk wattled fence: this forms a much more picturesquefence than those usually put up of split timber. 

Along this little enclosure I have begun planting a sort of floweryhedge with some of the native shrubs that abound in our woods and lake-shores. 

Among those already introduced are two species of shrubby honeysuckle, white and rose-blossomed: these are called by the American botanists_quilostium_. 

Then I have the white _Spiroeafrutex_, which grows profusely on thelake-shore; the Canadian wild rose; the red flowering raspberry (_rubusspectabilis_), leather-wood (_dircas_), called American mezereon, ormoose-wood; this is a very pretty, and at the same time useful shrub, the bark being used by farmers as a substitute for cord in tying sacks, &c. ; the Indians sew their birch-bark baskets with it occasionally. 

Wild gooseberry, red and black currants, apple-trees, with here andthere a standard hawthorn, the native tree bearing nice red fruit Inamed before, are all I have as yet been able to introduce. 

The stoup is up, and I have just planted hops at the base of thepillars. I have got two bearing shoots of a purple wild grape from theisland near us, which I long to see in fruit. 

My husband is in good spirits; our darling boy is well, and runs abouteverywhere. We enjoy a pleasant and friendly society, which hasincreased so much within the last two years that we can hardly regretour absence from the more populous town. 

My dear sister and her husband are comfortably settled in their newabode, and have a fine spot cleared and cropped. We often see them, andenjoy a chat of home--sweet, never-to-be-forgotten home; and cheatourselves into the fond belief that, at no very distant time we mayagain retrace its fertile fields and flowery dales. 

With what delight we should introduce our young Canadians to theirgrandmother and aunts; my little bushman shall early be taught to lispthe names of those unknown but dear friends, and to love the lands thatgave birth to his parents, the bonny hills of the north and my ownbeloved England. 

Not to regret my absence from my native land, and one so fair and lovelywithal, would argue a heart of insensibility; yet I must say, for allits roughness, I love Canada, and am as happy in my humble log-house asif it were courtly hall or bower; habit reconciles us to many thingsthat at first were distasteful. It has ever been my way to extract thesweet rather than the bitter in the cup of life, and surely it is bestand wisest so to do. In a country where constant exertion is called forfrom all ages and degrees of settlers, it would be foolish to a degreeto damp our energies by complaints, and cast a gloom over our homes bysitting dejectedly down to lament for all that was so dear to us in theold country. Since we are here, let us make the best of it, and bearwith cheerfulness the lot we have chosen. I believe that one of thechief ingredients in human happiness is a capacity for enjoying theblessings we possess. 

Though at our first outset we experienced many disappointments, manyunlooked-for expenses, and many annoying delays, with some wants that tous seemed great privations, on the whole we have been fortunate, especially in the situation of our land, which has increased in valuevery considerably; our chief difficulties are now over, at least we hopeso, and we trust soon to enjoy the comforts of a cleared farm. 

My husband is becoming more reconciled to the country, and I daily feelmy attachment to it strengthening. The very stumps that appeared soodious, through long custom, seem to lose some of their hideousness; theeye becomes familiarized even with objects the most displeasing tillthey cease to be observed. Some century hence how different will thisspot appear! I can picture it to my imagination with fertile fields andgroves of trees planted by the hand of taste;--all will be different;our present rude dwellings will have given place to others of a moreelegant style of architecture, and comfort and grace will rule the scenewhich is now a forest wild. 

You ask me if I like the climate of Upper Canada; to be candid I do notthink it deserves all that travellers have said of it. The summer heatof last year was very oppressive; the drought was extreme, and in somerespects proved rather injurious, especially to the potatoe crop. Thefrosts set in early, and so did the snows; as to the far-fa_med Indiansummer it seems to have taken its farewell of the land, for little of ithave we seen during three years' residence. Last year there was not asemblance of it, and this year one horrible dark gloomy day, thatreminded me most forcibly of a London fog, and which was to the full asdismal and depressing, was declared by the old inhabitants to be thecommencement of the Indian summer; the sun looked dim and red, and ayellow lurid mist darkened the atmosphere, so that it became almostnecessary to light candles at noonday. If this be Indian summer, thenmight a succession of London fogs be termed the "London summer, " thoughtI, as I groped about in a sort of bewildering dusky light all that day;and glad was I when, after a day or two's heavy rain, the frost and snowset in. 

Very variable, as far as our experience goes, this climate has been; notwo seasons have been at all alike, and it is supposed it will be stillmore variable as the work of clearing the forest goes on from year toyear. Near the rivers and great lakes the climate is much milder andmore equable; more inland, the snow seldom falls so as to allow ofsleighing for weeks after it has become general; this, considering thestate of our bush-roads, is rather a point in our favour, as travellingbecomes less laborious, though still somewhat rough. 

I have seen the aurora borealis several times; also a splendid meteoricphenomenon that surpassed every thing I had ever seen or even heard ofbefore. I was very much amused by overhearing a young lad giving agentleman a description of the appearance made by a cluster of theshooting-stars as they followed each other in quick succession athwartthe sky. "Sir, " said the boy, "I never saw such a sight before, and Ican only liken the chain of stars to a logging-chain. " Certainly a mostnatural and unique simile, quite in character with the occupation of thelad, whose business was often with the oxen and logging-chain, and afterall not more rustic than the familiar names given to many of our mostsuperb constellations, --Charle's wain, the plough, the sickle, &c. 

Coming home one night last Christmas from the house of a friend, I wasstruck by a splendid pillar of pale greenish light in the west: it roseto some height above the dark line of pines that crowned the oppositeshores of the Otanabee, and illumined the heavens on either side with achaste pure light, such as the moon gives in her rise and setting; itwas not quite pyramidical, though much broader at the base than at itshighest point; it gradually faded, till a faint white glimmering lightalone marked where its place had been, and even that disappeared aftersome half-hour's time. It was so fair and lovely a vision I was grievedwhen it vanished into thin air, and could have cheated fancy into thebelief that it was the robe of some bright visitor from another and abetter world;--imagination apart, could it be a phosphoric exhalationfrom some of our many swamps or inland lakes, or was it at all connectedwith the aurora that is so frequently seen in our skies?

I must now close this epistle; I have many letters to prepare forfriends, to whom I can only write when I have the opportunity of freeconveyance, the inland postage being very high; and you must not onlypay for all you receive but all you send to and from New York. 

Adieu, my kindest and best of friends. 

Douro, May 1st, 1833. 

APPENDIX

[The following Communications have been received from the Writer of thisWork during its progress through the Press. ]

MAPLE-SUGAR. 

THIS spring I have made maple-sugar of a much finer colour and grainthan any I have yet seen; and have been assured by many old settlers itwas the best, or nearly the best, they had ever met with: whichcommendation induces me to give the plan I pursued in manufacturing it. The sap having been boiled down in the sugar-bush from about sixteenpailsful to two, I first passed it through a thin flannel bag, after themanner of a jelly-bag, to strain it from the first impurities, which aregreat. I then passed the liquor through another thicker flannel into theiron pot, in which I purposed boiling down the sugar, and while yetcold, or at best but lukewarm, beat up the white of one egg to a froth, and spread it gently over the surface of the liquor, watching the potcarefully after the fire began to heat it, that I might not suffer thescum to boil into the sugar. A few minutes before it comes to a boil, the scum must be carefully removed with a skimmer, or ladle, --the formeris best. I consider that on the care taken to remove every particle ofscum depends, in a great measure, the brightness and clearness of thesugar. The best rule I can give as to the sugaring-off, as it is termed, is to let the liquid continue at a fast boil: only be careful to keep itfrom coming over by keeping a little of the liquid in your stirring-ladle, and when it boils up to the top, or you see it rising too fast, throw in a little from time to time to keep it down; or if you boil on acooking-stove, throwing open one or all the doors will prevent boilingover. Those that sugar-off outside the house have a wooden crane fixedagainst a stump, the fire being lighted against the stump, and thekettle suspended on the crane: by this simple contrivance, (for anybush-boy can fix a crane of the kind, ) the sugar need never rise over ifcommon attention be paid to the boiling; but it does require constantwatching: one idle glance may waste much of the precious fluid. I hadonly a small cooking-stove to boil my sugar on, the pots of which werethought too small, and not well shaped, so that at first my fears werethat I must relinquish the trial; but I persevered, and experienceconvinces me a stove is an excellent furnace for the purpose; as you canregulate the heat as you like. 

One of the most anxious periods in the boiling I found to be when theliquor began first to assume a yellowish frothy appearance, and cast upso great a volume of steam from its surface as to obscure the contentsof the pot; as it may then rise over almost unperceived by the mostvigilant eye. As the liquor thickens into molasses, it becomes a fineyellow, and seems nothing but thick froth. When it is getting prettywell boiled down, the drops begin to fall clear and ropy from the ladle;and if you see little bright grainy-looking bubbles in it, drop some ona cold plate, and continue to stir or rub it till it is quite cold: ifit is ready to granulate, you will find it gritty, and turn whitish orpale straw colour; and stiff. The sugar may then safely be poured offinto a tin dish, pail, basin, or any other utensil. I tried twodifferent methods after taking the sugar from the fire, but could findlittle difference in the look of the sugar, except that in one thequantity was broken up more completely; in the other the sugar remainedin large lumps, but equally pure and sparkling. In the first I keptstirring the sugar till it began to cool and form a whitish thicksubstance, and the grains were well crystallised; in the other process, --which I think preferable, as being the least troublesome, --I waitedtill the mass was hardened into sugar, and then, piercing the crust inmany places, I turned the mass into a cullender, and placed thecullender over a vessel to receive the molasses that drained from thesugar. In the course of the day or two, I frequently stirred the sugar, which thus became perfectly free from moisture, and had acquired a finesparkling grain, tasting exactly like sugar-candy, free from any tasteof the maple-sap, and fit for any purpose. 

I observed that in general maple-sugar, as it is commonly made, is hardand compact, showing little grain, and weighing very heavy in proportionto its bulk. Exactly the reverse is the case with that I made, it beingextremely light for its bulk, all the heavy molasses having beenseparated, instead of dried into the sugar. Had the present season beenat all a favourable one, which it was not, we should have made a goodquantity of excellent sugar. 

VINEGAR. 

By boiling down five gallons of sap to one, and when just a little abovethe heat of new milk, putting in a cupful of barm (hop-rising will do ifit be good), and letting the vessel remain in your kitchen chimney-corner during the summer, and perhaps longer, you will obtain a fine, cheap, pleasant, and strong vinegar, fit for any purpose. This plan Ihave pursued successfully two years. Care must be taken that the cask orkeg be well seasoned and tight before the vinegar is put in; as thedryness of the summer heat is apt to shrink the vessel, and make itleak. If putty well wrought, tar, or even yellow soap, be rubbed overthe seams, and round the inner rim of the head of the cask, it willpreserve it from opening. The equal temperature of the kitchen ispreferred by experienced housewives to letting the vinegar stand abroad;they aver the coldness of the nights in this country is prejudicial tothe process, being as speedily perfected as if it underwent no suchcheck. By those well skilled in the manufacture of home-made wines andbeer, excellent maple-wine and beer might be produced at a very triflingexpense; i. E. That of the labour and skill exercised in the making it. 

Every settler grows, as an ornament in his garden, or should grow, hops, which form one of the principal components of maple-beer when added tothe sap. 

HOP-RISING

This excellent, and, I might add, indispensable, article in everysettler's house, is a valuable substitute for ale or beer-yeast, and ismade in the following simple manner:--Take two double handfuls of hops, boil in a gallon of soft water, if you can get it, till the hops sink tothe bottom of the vessel; make ready a batter formed by stirring adessert-platefull of flour and cold water till smooth and pretty thicktogether; strain the hop-liquor while scalding hot into the vessel whereyour batter is mixed ready; let one person pour the hop-liquor while theother keeps stirring the batter. When cooled down to a gentle warmth, sothat you can bear the finger well in it, add a cup or basinful of theformer barm, or a bit of leaven, to set it to work; let the barm standtill it has worked well, then bottle and cork it. Set it by in a cellaror cool place if in summer, and in winter it is also the best place tokeep it from freezing. Some persons add two or three mealy potatoesboiled and finely bruised, and it is a great improvement during the coolmonths of the year. Potatoes in bread may be introduced veryadvantageously; and to first settlers, who have all their flour to buy, I think it must be a saving. 

The following method I found made more palatable and lighter bread thanflour, mixed in the usual way:--Supposing I wanted to make up about astone and half of flour, I boiled (having first pared them carefully)--say three dozen good-sized potatoes in about three quarts or a gallon ofwater, till the liquor had the appearance of a thin gruel, and thepotatoes had become almost entirely incorporated with the water. Withthis potatoe-gruel the flour was mixed up, no water being required, unless by chance I had not enough of the mixture to moisten my floursufficiently. The same process of kneading, fermenting with barm, &c. , is pursued with the dough, as with other bread. In baking, it turns of abright light brown, and is lighter than bread made after the commonprocess, and therefore I consider the knowledge of it serviceable to theemigrant's family. 

SALT RISING. 

This is a barm much used by the Yanky settlers; but though the bread isdecidedly whiter, and prettier to look at, than that raised in any otherway, the peculiar flavour it imparts to the bread renders it highlydisagreeable to some persons. Another disadvantage is, the difficulty offermenting this barm in the winter season, as it requires a temperaturewhich is very difficult to preserve in a Canadian winter day. Moreover, after the barm has once reached its height, unless immediately made useof, it sinks, and rises again no more: careful people, of course, whoknow this peculiarity, are on the watch, being aware of the illconsequences of heavy bread, or having no bread but bannocks in thehouse. 

As near as I can recollect, the salt-rising is made as follows:--For asmall baking of two or three loaves, or one large bake-kettle-loaf, (about the size of a London peck loaf, ) take about a pint of moderatelywarm water, (a pleasant heat to the hand, ) and stir into the jug or potcontaining it as much flour as will make a good batter, not too thick;add to this half a tea-spoon of salt, not more, and set the vessel in apan of moderately warm water, within a little distance of the fire, orin the sun: the water that surrounds the pot in which your rising is, must never be allowed to cool much be low the original heat, more warmwater being added (in the pan, not to the barm) till the whole is in anactive state of fermentation, which will be from six to eight hours, when the dough must be mixed with it, and as much warm water or milk asyou require. Knead the mass till it is tough, and does not stick to theboard. Make up your loaf or loaves, and keep them warmly covered nearthe fire till they rise: they must be baked directly this second risingtakes place. Those that bake what I term a _shanty loaf_, in an ironbake-pot, or kettle, placed on the hot embers, set the dough to riseover a very few embers, or near the hot hearth, keeping the pot or panturned as the loaf rises; when equally risen all over they put hot ashesbeneath and upon the lid, taking care not to let the heat be too fierceat first. As this is the most common method of baking, and the firstthat a settler sees practised, it is as well they should be madefamiliar with it beforehand. At first I was inclined to grumble andrebel against the expediency of bake-pans or bake-kettles; but ascooking-stoves, iron ovens, and even brick and clay-built ovens, willnot start up at your bidding in the bush, these substitutes arevaluable, and perform a number of uses. I have eaten excellent lightbread, baked on the emigrant's hearth in one of these kettles. I haveeaten boiled potatoes, baked meats, excellent stews, and good soups, allcooked at different times in this universally useful utensil: so let itnot be despised. It is one of those things peculiarly adapted to thecircumstances of settlers in the bush before they have collected thosecomforts about their homesteads, within and without, that are the rewardand the slow gleaning-up of many years of toil. 

There are several other sorts of rising similar to the salt-rising. "Milk-rising" which is mixed with milk, warm from the cow, and about athird warm water; and "bran-rising, " which is made with bran instead offlour, and is preferred by many persons to either of the former kinds. 

SOFT SOAP. 

Of the making of soft soap I can give little or no correct information, never having been given any _certain_ rule myself; and my own experienceis too limited. I was, however, given a hint from a professionalgentleman, which I mean to act upon forthwith. Instead of boiling thesoap, which is some trouble, he assured me the best plan was to run offthe ley from a barrel of ashes: into this ley I might put four or fivepounds of any sort of grease, such as pot skimmings, rinds of bacon, orscraps from frying down suet; in short any refuse of the kind would do. The barrel with its contents may then be placed in a secure situation inthe garden or yard, exposed to the sun and air. In course of time theley and grease become incorporated: if the grease predominates it willbe seen floating on the surface; in such case add more ley; if themixture does not thicken, add more grease. Now, this is the simplest, easiest, and clearest account I have yet received on the subject ofsoap-making, which hitherto has seemed a mystery, even though a goodquantity was made last spring by one of my servants, and it turned outwell: but she could not tell why it succeeded, for want of being able toexplain the principle she worked from. 

CANDLES. 

Every one makes their own candles (i. E. If they have any materials tomake them from). The great difficulty of making candies--and, as far asI see the only one, is procuring the tallow, which a bush-settler, untilhe begins to kill his own beef, sheep, and hogs, is rarely able to do, unless he buys; and a settler buys nothing that he can help. A cow, however, that is unprofitable, old, or unlikely to survive the severityof the coming winter, is often suffered to go dry during the summer, andget her own living, till she is fit to kill in the fall. Such an animalis often slaughtered very advantageously, especially if the settler havelittle fodder for his cattle. The beef is often excellent, and goodstore of candles and soap may be made from the inside fat. Thesecandles, if made three parts beef and one part hogs lard, wil burnbetter than any store-candles, and cost less than half price. The tallowis merely melted in a pot or pan convenient for the purpose, and havingrun the cotton wicks into the moulds (tin or pewter moulds for sixcandles cost three shillings at the stores, and last many, many years), a stick or skewer is passed through the loops of your wicks, at theupper part of the stand, which serve the purpose of drawing the candles. The melted fat, not too hot, but in a fluid state, is then poured intothe moulds till they are full; as the fat gets cold it shrinks, andleaves a hollow at the top of the mould: this requires filling up whenquite cold. If the candles do not draw readily, plunge the mould for aninstant into hot water and the candles will come out easily. Manypersons prefer making dip-candles for kitchen use; but for my own part Ithink the trouble quite as great, and give the preference, in point ofneatness of look, to the moulds. It may be, my maid and I did notsucceed so well in making the dips as the moulds. 

PICKLING. 

The great want of spring vegetables renders pickles a valuable additionto the table at the season when potatoes have become unfit anddistasteful. If you have been fortunate in your maple-vinegar, a storeof pickled cucumbers, beans, cabbage, &c. May be made during the latterpart of the summer; but if the vinegar should not be fit at that time, there are two expedients: one is to make a good brine of boiled salt andwater, into which throw your cucumbers, &c. (the cabbage, by the by, maybe preserved in the root-house or cellar quite good, or buried in pits, well covered, till you want to make your pickle). Those vegetables, keptin brine, must be covered close, and when you wish to pickle them, remove the top layer, which are not so good; and having boiled thevinegar with spices let it stand till it is cold. The cucumbers shouldpreviously have been well washed, and soaked in two or three freshwaters, and drained; then put in a jar, and the cold vinegar poured overthem. The advantage of this is obvious; you can pickle at any season. Another plan, and I have heard it much commended, is putting thecucumbers into a mixture of whiskey* and water, which in time turns to afine vinegar, and preserves the colour and crispness of the vegetable;while the vinegar is apt to make them soft, especially if poured onboiling hot, as is the usual practice. 

[* In the "Backwoodsman, " this whiskey-receipt is mentioned as anabominable compound: perhaps the witty author had tasted the pickles inan improper state of progression. He gives a lamentable picture ofAmerican cookery, but declares the badness arises from want of properreceipts. These yeast-receipts will be extremely useful in England; asthe want of fresh yeast is often severely felt in country districts. ]

APPENDIX B. 

[In the wish to render this Work of more practical value to personsdesiring to emigrate, some official information is subjoined, under thefollowing heads:--]

STATISTICS OF EMIGRATION. 

I. The number of Sales and Grants of Crown Lands, Clergy Reserves, Conditions, &c. II. Information for Emigrants; Number of Emigrants arrived; withextracts from Papers issued by Government Emigration Agents, &c. III. Abstract of the American Passengers' Act, of Session 1835. IV. Transfer of Capital. V. Canadian Currency. VI. Canada Company. VII. British American Land Company. 

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I. SALES AND GRANTS OF CROWN LANDS. 

The following tables, abstracted from Parliamentary documents, exhibit--

1. The quantity of Crown lands _sold_ in Upper and Lower Canada from1828 to 1833, inclusive, with the average price per acre, &c. 

2. Town and park lots sold in Upper Canada during the same period. 

3. The quantity of Crown lands granted without purchase, and theconditions on which the grants were given, from 1824 to 1833, inclusive. 

4. The amount of clergy reserves sold in each year since the salescommenced under the Act 7 and 8 Geo. IV. , c. 62. 

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CROWN LANDS SOLD FROM 1828 TO 1833, LOWER CANADA

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

TableRow 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres sold. Column 3: Average price per acre. Column 4: Amount of purchase money received within the first year. Column 5: Amount of purchase money remitted to military purchaserswithin the first year. Column 6: Amount of quit-rent at 5 per cent on the purchase moneyreceived within the first year. Column 7: Whole amount of purchase money. 

Row 2Column 1: 1828Column 2: 20, 011 acresColumn 3: 4 shillings, 11 penceColumn 4: 1, 255 pounds, 14 shillings, 10 penceColumn 5: -, -, -Column 6: 39 pounds, 12 shillings, 6 penceColumn 7: 5, 044 pounds, 9 shillings, 9 pence

Row 3Column 1: 1829Column 2: 31, 366 acresColumn 3: 5 shillings, 2-3/4 penceColumn 4: 466 pounds, 2 shillings, 11 penceColumn 5: -, -, -Column 6: 307 pounds, 11 shillings, 0 penceColumn 7: 7, 469 pounds, 17 shillings, 7 pence

Row 4Column 1: 1830Column 2: 28, 077 acresColumn 3: 5 shillings, 8-3/4 penceColumn 4: 273 pounds, 10 shillings, 5 penceColumn 5: -, -, -Column 6: 322 pounds, 3 shillings, 0 penceColumn 7: 7, 461 pounds, 13 shillings, 5 pence

Row 5Column 1: 1831Column 2: 51, 357 acresColumn 3: 6 shillings, 1-3/4 penceColumn 4: 815 pounds, 19 shillings, 8 penceColumn 5: -, -, -Column 6: 484 pounds, 14 shillings, 7 penceColumn 7: 12, 442 pounds, 8 shillings, 0 pence

Row 6Column 1: 1832Column 2: 24, 074 acresColumn 3: 6 shillings, 9-1/4 penceColumn 4: 1, 013 pounds, 1 shillings, 11 penceColumn 5: 555 pounds, 11 shillings, 0 penceColumn 6: 119 pounds, 2 shillings, 7 penceColumn 7: 6, 139 pounds, 0 shillings, 10 pence

Row 7Column 1: 1833Column 2: 42, 570 acresColumn 3: 4 shillings, 2 penceColumn 4: 1, 975 pounds, 10 shillings, 11 penceColumn 5: 1, 936 pounds, 9 shillings, 3 penceColumn 6: -, -, -Column 7: 7, 549 pounds, 1 shillings, 5 pence

Row 8Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 197, 455Column 3: -, -Column 4: -, -, -Column 5: -, -, -Column 6: -, -, -Column 7: 46, 106 pounds, 11 shillings, 0 pence

The conditions on which the land was sold were--on sales on instalments, to be paid within three years; or on sales on quit-rent, at 5 per cent. , capital redeemable at pleasure. N. B. Sales on quit-rent ceased in 1832. 

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CROWN LANDS SOLD FROM 1828 TO 1833, UPPER CANADA

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

TableRow 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres sold. Column 3: Average price per acre. Column 4: Amount of purchase money received within the first year. Column 5: Whole amount of purchase money. 

Row 2Column 1: 1829Column 2: 3, 893 acresColumn 3: 15 shillings, 1-3/4 penceColumn 4: 760 pounds, 6 shillings, 10 penceColumn 5: 2, 940 pounds, 17 shillings, 3 pence

Row 3Column 1: 1830Column 2: 6, 135 acresColumn 3: 13 shillings, 8-1/2 penceColumn 4: 1, 350 pounds, 16 shillings, 6 penceColumn 5: 4, 209 pounds, 3 shillings, 0 pence

Row 4Column 1: 1831Column 2: 4, 357 acresColumn 3: 11 shillings, 3-1/2 penceColumn 4: 1, 626 pounds, 15 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: 2, 458 pounds, 1 shillings, 8 pence

Row 5Column 1: 1832Column 2: 10, 323 acresColumn 3: 9 shillings, 1-1/2 penceColumn 4: 2, 503 pounds, 3 shillings, 5 penceColumn 5: 4, 711 pounds, 2 shillings, 9 pence

Row 6Column 1: 1833Column 2: 26, 376 acresColumn 3: 8 shillings, 9-1/4 penceColumn 4: 5, 660 pounds, 8 shillings, 3 penceColumn 5: 11, 578 pounds, 19 shillings, 3 pence

Row 7Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 51, 074 acresColumn 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 25, 898 pounds, 3 shillings, 11 pence

Interest is now exacted on the instalments paid. Three years is the number within which the whole amount of the purchasemoney is to be paid. The sales of town lots, water lots, and park lots, in Upper Canada, are not included in this table, on account of thedisproportionate effect which the comparatively large sums paid forthese small lots would have on the average price per acre. They aregiven, therefore, separately, in the following table:-

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TOWN AND PARK LOTS SOLD IN UPPER CANADA FROM 1828 TO 1833

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

[TABLE]Row 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres sold. Column 3: Average price per acre. Column 4: Amount of purchase money received within the first year. Column 5: Whole amount of purchase money. 

Row 2Column 1: 1828Column 2: 2 acresColumn 3: 126 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 penceColumn 4: 63 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: 252 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 pence

Row 3Column 1: 1829Column 2: -Column 3: -, -Column 4: 63 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: -, -, -

Row 4Column 1: 1830Column 2: 19 acresColumn 3: 10 pounds, 10 shillings, 6-1/2 penceColumn 4: 55 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: 20 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 pence

Row 5Column 1: 1831Column 2: 3 acresColumn 3: 8 pounds, 7 shillings, 6-1/2 penceColumn 4: 95 pounds*, 12 shillings, 8 penceColumn 5: 25 pounds, 2 shillings, 8 pence

Row 6Column 1: 1832Column 2: 30 acresColumn 3: 15 pounds, 18 shillings, 6 penceColumn 4: 81 pounds, 18 shillings, 9 penceColumn 5: 327 pounds, 15 shillings, 0 pence

Row 7Column 1: 1833Column 2: 114 acresColumn 3: 14 pounds, 13 shillings, 9 penceColumn 4: 634 pounds, 8 shillings, 6 penceColumn 5: 1, 674 pounds, 9 shillings, 0 pence

Row 7Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 168 acresColumn 3: -, -, -Column 4: -, -, -Column 5: 2, 479 pounds, 6 shillings, 8 pence

There were no sales in 1829. The 63 pounds currency paid that year waspaid as instalments on lots sold in the previous year. 

The whole amount of the purchase money to be paid within three years. 

*Note. --It is so given in the Parliamentary Return, but probably the 9should be 1. 

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The following exhibits the quantity of Crown Lands granted, and theconditions on which the grants were given, from 1823 to 1833. 

[TABLE]

LOWER CANADA

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

Row 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres granted to militia claimants. Column 3: Number of acres granted to discharged soldiers and pensioners. Column 4: Number of acres granted to officers. Column 5: Number of acres granted, not coming within the previousdescriptions. Column 6: Total number of acres granted. 

Row 2Column 1: 1824Column 2: 51, 810Column 3: -Column 4: 4, 100Column 5: 34, 859Column 6: 90, 769

Row 3Column 1: 1825Column 2: 32, 620Column 3: -Column 4: 1, 000Column 5: 16, 274Column 6: 49, 894

Row 4Column 1: 1826Column 2: 3, 525Column 3: 5, 500Column 4: -Column 5: 48, 224Column 6: 57, 249

Row 5Column 1: 1827Column 2: 7, 640Column 3: 6, 300Column 4: 800Column 5: 38, 378Column 6: 53, 118

Row 6Column 1: 1828Column 2: 7, 300Column 3: -Column 4: 4, 504Column 5: 9, 036Column 6: 20, 840

Row 7Column 1: 1829Column 2: 3, 200Column 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 5, 282Column 6: 8, 482

Row 8Column 1: 1830Column 2: 81, 425Column 3: -Column 4: 2, 000Column 5: 10, 670Column 6: 94, 095

Row 9Column 1: 1831Column 2: 9, 400Column 3: 8, 273Column 4: 3, 408Column 5: 9, 900Column 6: 30, 981

Row 10Column 1: 1832Column 2: 10, 116Column 3: 19, 000Column 4: 4, 000Column 5: 4, 000Column 6: 37, 116

Row 11Column 1: 1833Column 2: 5, 200Column 3: 22, 500Column 4: 1, 200Column 5: -Column 6: 28, 900

Row 12Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 212, 236Column 3: 61, 573Column 4: 21, 012Column 5: 176, 623Column 6: 471, 444

_Settler's Conditions_. --That he do clear twenty feet of road on his lotwithin the space of ninety days. Military & Militia conditions. --That he do, within the space of threeyears, clear and cultivate four acres of his lot, and build a dwelling-house thereon. 

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[TABLE]

UPPER CANADA

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

Row 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres granted to militia claimants. Column 3: Number of acres granted to discharged soldiers and pensioners. Column 4: Number of acres granted to officers. Column 5: Number of acres granted, not coming within the previousdescriptions. Column 6: Number of acres granted to U. E. Loyalists. *Column 7: Total number of acres granted. 

Row 2Column 1: 1824Column 2: 11, 800Column 3: 5, 800Column 4: 5, 500Column 5: 134, 500Column 6: 30, 200Column 7: 187, 800

Row 3Column 1: 1825Column 2: 20, 300Column 3: 5, 700Column 4: 8, 100Column 5: 149, 060Column 6: 45, 000Column 7: 228, 160

Row 4Column 1: 1826Column 2: 16, 600Column 3: 3, 100Column 4: 4, 700Column 5: 19, 390Column 6: 24, 800Column 7: 68, 590

Row 5Column 1: 1827Column 2: 10, 900Column 3: 4, 200Column 4: 7, 200Column 5: 33, 600Column 6: 20, 200Column 7: 76, 100

Row 6Column 1: 1828Column 2: 10, 800Column 3: 900Column 4: 3, 000Column 5: 4, 304Column 6: 30, 800Column 7: 49, 804

Row 7Column 1: 1829Column 2: 5, 300Column 3: 7, 500Column 4: 8, 400Column 5: 3, 230Column 6: 22, 600Column 7: 47, 030

Row 8Column 1: 1830Column 2: 6, 400Column 3: 12, 500Column 4: 12, 600Column 5: 9, 336Column 6: 27, 400Column 7: 68, 236

Row 9Column 1: 1831Column 2: 5, 500Column 3: 58, 400Column 4: 7, 200Column 5: 8, 000Column 6: 34, 200Column 7: 113, 300

Row 10Column 1: 1832Column 2: 19, 300Column 3: 97, 800Column 4: 7, 600Column 5: 6, 100Column 6: 62, 600Column 7: 193, 400

Row 11Column 1: 1833Column 2: 35, 200Column 3: 46, 000Column 4: -Column 5: 9, 100Column 6: 135, 600Column 7: 225, 900

Row 12Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 142, 100Column 3: 241, 900Column 4: 64, 300Column 5: 376, 620Column 6: 433, 400Column 7: 1, 258, 320

_Condition_. - Actual settlement. 

* U. E. Loyalists means United English Loyalists--individuals who fledfrom the United States on the breaking out of the American war ofindependence. The grants in the above column are mostly to the childrenof these individuals. 

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The conditions in force in 1824, the time from which the Returns taketheir commencement, were enacted by Orders in Council of 20th October, 1818, and 21st February, 1820, applied equally to all classes ofgrantees, and were as follows:--

"That locatees shall clear thoroughly and fence five acres for every 100acres granted; and build a house 16 feet by 20 in the clear; and toclear one-half of the road, and chop down, without charring, one chainin depth across the lot next to road. These road duties to be consideredas part of the five acres per 100. The whole to be completed within twoyears from date of the location, and upon proof of their fulfilmentpatents to issue. 

"On the 14th of May, 1830, an additional stipulation was made inlocations to discharged soldiers, which required an actual residence ontheir lots, in person, for five years before the issue of their patents. 

"On the 14th of November, 1830, the then existing Orders in Council, respecting settlement duties, were cancelled, and it was ordered that inlieu thereof each locatee should clear half the road in front of hislot, and from 10 feet in the centre of the road cut the stumps so lowthat waggon wheels might pass over them. Upon proof of this, and that asettler had been resident on the lot two years, a patent might issue. Locatees, however, were at liberty, instead of placing settlers on theirlands, to clear, in addition to half the road on each lot, a chain indepth across the front, and to sow it and the road with grass seed. 

"Upon discharged soldiers and seamen alone, under this order, it becameimperative to reside on and improve their lands three years before theissue of the patent. 

"On the 24th of May, 1832, an Order in Council was made, abolishing, inall cases except that of discharged soldiers and seamen, the regulationspreviously existing; and which directed that, upon proof of an actualsettler being established on a lot, a patent should issue without thecondition of settlement duty. "

The following extract is taken from "official information" circulated byMr. Buchanan, and other Government emigration agents in Canada:--

"Emigrants, wishing to obtain fertile lands in the Canadas in a wildstate by purchase from the Crown, may rely on every facility beingafforded them by the public authorities. Extensive tracts are surveyedand offered for sale in Upper Canada monthly, and frequently every 10 or14 days, by the Commissioner of Crown lands, at upset prices, varyingaccording to situation from 10 shillings to 15 shillings per acre, excepting in the townships of Sunnidale and Nottawasaga, where the upsetprice of Crown lands is 5 shillings only. In Lower Canada, theCommissioner of Crown lands at Quebec puts up land for sale, at fixedperiods, in various townships, at from 2 shillings 6 pence to 12shillings 6 pence Halifax currency, per acre, payable by instalments. Wild lands may also be purchased from the Upper Canada Company on veryeasy terms, and those persons wanting improved farms will find littledifficulty in obtaining such from private proprietors. On no accountenter into any final engagement for your lands or farms _withoutpersonal examination_, and be certain of the following qualifications:--"1. A healthy situation. "2. Good land. "3. A pure spring, or running stream of water. "4. In the neighbourhood of a good, moral, and religious state ofsociety, and schools for the education of your children. "5. As near good roads and water transport as possible, saw and gristmills. "6. A good title. "

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Clergy Reserves sold in each year since the sales commenced under theAct 7 and 8, Geo. IV. C. 62

LOWER CANADA

[TABLE]

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

Row 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres sold. Column 3: Average price per acre. Column 4: Amount of purchase-money received within the first year. Column 5: Whole amount of the purchase-money. 

Row 2Column 1: 1829Column 2: 1, 100 acresColumn 3: 4 shillings, 6 penceColumn 4: 10 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: 230 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 pence*

Row 3Column 1: 1830Column 2: 9, 956 acresColumn 3: 4 shillings, 9 penceColumn 4: 543 pounds, 17 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: 1, 610 pounds, 3 shillings, 0 pence*

Row 4Column 1: 1831Column 2: 11, 332 acresColumn 3: 7 shillings, 2-3/4 penceColumn 4: 541 pounds, 7 shillings, 6 penceColumn 5: 2, 665 pounds, 9 shillings, 3 pence*

Row 5Column 1: 1832Column 2: 6, 873 acresColumn 3: 5 shillings, 8-1/2 penceColumn 4: 533 pounds, 2 shillings, 2 penceColumn 5: 1, 278 pounds, 11 shillings, 8 pence

Row 6Column 1: 1833Column 2: 37, 278 acresColumn 3: 8 shillings, 2-1/4 penceColumn 4: 3, 454 pounds, 11 shillings, 6 penceColumn 5: 12, 791 pounds, 17 shillings, 5 pence

Row 7Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 66, 539 acresColumn 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 18, 576 pounds, 1 shillings, 4 pence

The number of years within which the whole amount of the purchase-moneyis to be paid is three. 

* On sales on quit rent, at 5 per cent. , the capital redeemable atpleasure. 

N. B. Sales on quit-rent ceased in 1832. 

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UPPER CANADA

[TABLE]

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

Row 1, Column HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: Number of acres sold. Column 3: Average price per acre. Column 4: Amount of purchase-money received within the first year. Column 5: Whole amount of the purchase-money. 

Row 2Column 1: 1829Column 2: 18, 014 acresColumn 3: 14 shillings, 8-1/4 penceColumn 4: 2, 464 pounds, 14 shillings, 0 penceColumn 5: 13, 229 pounds, 0 shillings, 0 pence

Row 3Column 1: 1830Column 2: 34, 705Column 3: 13 shillings, 6 penceColumn 4: 6, 153 pounds, 5 shillings, 9 penceColumn 5: 23, 452 pounds, 4 shillings, 0 pence

Row 4Column 1: 1831Column 2: 28, 563 acresColumn 3: 12 shillings, 1-3/4 penceColumn 4: 8, 010 pounds, 2 shillings, 11 penceColumn 5: 17, 362 pounds, 12 shillings, 1 pence

Row 6Column 1: 1832Column 2: 48, 484 acresColumn 3: 13 shillings, 3-3/4 penceColumn 4: 10, 239 pounds, 9 shillings, 7 penceColumn 5: 32, 287 pounds, 19 shillings, 0 pence

Row 7Column 1: 1833Column 2: 62, 282 acresColumn 3: 14 shillings, 4-1/2 penceColumn 4: 14, 080 pounds, 16 shillings, 8 penceColumn 5: 44, 747 pounds, 19 shillings, 9 pence

Row 8Column 1: TotalsColumn 2: 192, 049 acresColumn 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 131, 079 pounds, 14 shillings, 10 pence

The whole amount of the purchase-money to be paid in nine years. Inaddition to the purchase-money paid, interest has also been paid witheach instalment, a statement of which is as follows:--

Interest received in 1829: 1 pound, 7 shillings, 3 pence currency. Interest received in 1830: 62 pound, 16 shillings, 1 pence currency. Interest received in 1831: 259 pound, 14 shillings, 9 pence currency. Interest received in 1832: 473 pound, 17 shillings, 2 pence currency. Interest received in 1833: 854 pound, 4 shillings, 3 pence currency. 

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II. INFORMATION FOR EMIGRANTS

In the year 1832 a little pamphlet of advice to emigrants was issued byhis Majesty's Commissioners for Emigration*, which contained some usefulinformation in a small compass. The Commission no longer exists. In lieuof it, J. Denham Pinnock, Esq. , has been appointed by Government HisMajesty's agent for the furtherance of emigration from England to theBritish Colonies. Letters on the subject of emigration should beaddressed to this gentleman at the Colonial Office, under cover to theColonial Secretary of State. One chief object of his appointment is toafford facilities and information to parish authorities and landedproprietors desirous of furthering the emigration of labourers andothers from their respective districts, especially with reference to theemigration clause of the Poor Laws Amendment Act. The followingGovernment emigration agents have also been appointed at the respectiveports named:--

Liverpool . .. Lieut. Low, R. N. Bristol . .. Lieut. Henry, R. N. Leith . .. Lieut. Forrest, R. N. Greenock . .. Lieut. Hemmans, R. N. Dublin . .. Lieut. Hodder, R. N. Cork . .. Lieut. Friend, R. N. Limerick . .. Lieut. Lynch, R. N. Belfast . .. Lieut. Millar, R. N. Sligo . .. Lieut. Shuttleworth, R. N. 

And at Quebec, A. C. Buchanan, Esq. , the chief Government emigrationagent, will afford every information to all emigrants who seek hisadvice. 

[* "Information published by His Majesty's Commissioners for Emigration, respecting the British Colonies in North America. " London, C. Knight, 1832. Price _twopence_. ]

The following is an extract from the pamphlet published in 1832:--

"Passages to Quebec or New Brunswick may either be engaged _inclusive_of provisions, or _exclusive_ of provisions, in which case the ship-owner finds nothing but water, fuel, and bed places, without bedding. Children under 14 years of age are charged one-half, and under 7 yearsof age one-third of the full price, and for children under 12 months ofage no charge is made. Upon these conditions the price of passage fromLondon, or from places on the east coast of Great Britain, has generallybeen 6 pounds with provisions, or 3 pounds without. From Liverpool, Greenock, and the principal ports of Ireland, as the chances of delayare fewer, the charge is somewhat lower; this year [1832] it willprobably be from 2 pounds to 2 pounds, 10 shillings without provisions, or from 4 pounds to 5 pounds, including provisions. It is possible thatin March and April passages may be obtained from Dublin for 1 pound, 15shillings or even 1 pound, 10 shillings; but the prices always growhigher as the season advances. In ships sailing from Scotland orIreland, it has mostly been the custom for passengers to find their ownprovisions; but this practice has not been so general in London, andsome shipowners, sensible of the dangerous mistakes which may be made inthis matter through ignorance, are very averse to receive passengers whowill not agree to be victualled by the ship. Those who do resolve tosupply their own provisions, should at least be careful not to lay in aninsufficient stock; fifty days is the shortest period for which it issafe to provide, and from London the passage is sometimes prolonged toseventy-five days. The best months for leaving England are certainlyMarch and April; the later emigrants do not find employment so abundant, and have less time in the colony before the commencement of winter. "

From a printed paper, issued by Mr. Buchanan at Quebec, the followingstatements are taken: (the paper is dated July, 1835). 

"There is nothing of more importance to emigrants, on arrival at Quebec, than correct information on the leading points connected with theirfuture pursuits. Many have suffered much by a want of caution, and bylistening to the opinions of interested, designing characters, whofrequently offer their advice unsolicited, and who are met generallyabout wharfs and landing-places frequented by strangers: to guardemigrants from falling into such errors, they should, immediately onarrival at Quebec, proceed to the office of the chief agent foremigrants, Sault-au-Matelot Street, Lower Town, where every informationrequisite for their future guidance in either getting settlements onlands, or obtaining employment in Upper or Lower Canada, will beobtained _gratis_. On your route from Quebec to your destination youwill find many plans and schemes offered to your consideration, but turnaway from them unless you are well satisfied of the purity of thestatements: on all occasions when you stand in need of advice, applyonly to the Government agents, who will give every information required, _gratis_. 

"Emigrants are informed that they may remain on board ship 48 hoursafter arrival, nor can they be deprived of any of their usualaccommodations for cooking or berthing during that period, and themaster of the ship is bound to disembark the emigrants and their baggage_free of expense_, at the usual landing places, and at seasonable hours. _They should avoid drinking the water of the river St. Lawrence, whichhas a strong tendency to produce bowel complaints in strangers_. 

"Should you require to change your English money, go to some respectablemerchant or dealer, or the banks: the currency in the Canadas is at therate of 5 shillings the dollar, and is called Halifax currency; atpresent the gold sovereign is worth, in Quebec and Montreal, about 1pound, 4 shillings, 1 pence currency. In New York 8 shillings iscalculated for the dollar, hence many are deceived when hearing of therates of labour, &c. --5 shillings in Canada is equal to 8 shillings inNew York; thus 8 shillings New York currency is equivalent to 5shillings Halifax currency. 

"Emigrants who wish to settle in Lower Canada or to obtain employment, are informed that many desirable situations are to be met with. Wildlands may be obtained by purchase from the Commissioner of Crown Landsin various townships in the province, and the British American LandCompany are making extensive preparations for selling lands and farms inthe Eastern Townships to emigrants. 

"Farm labourers are much wanted in all the districts of Upper Canada, and, if industrious, they may be sure of obtaining very high wages;mechanics of almost every description, and good servants, male and_female_, are much in request. 

"Emigrants proceeding to Upper Canada, either by the Ottawa or St. Lawrence route, are advised to supply themselves with provisions atMontreal, such as bread, tea, sugar, and butter, which they willpurchase cheaper and of _better quality_, until they reach Kingston, than along the route. They are also particularly cautioned against theuse of _ardent spirits or drinking cold river water_, or lying on thebanks of the river exposed to the night dews; they should proceed atonce from the steam-boat at Montreal to _the entrance of the Canal_ orLachine, from whence the Durham and steam-boats start for Prescott andBytown daily. The total expense for the transport of an adult emigrantfrom Quebec to Toronto and the head of Lake Ontario, by steam andDurham-boats, will not exceed 1 pound, 4 shillings currency, or 1 pound, 1 shilling sterling. Kingston, Belleville, up the Bay of Quinte, Cobourgh, and Port Hope, in the Newcastle district, Hamilton and Niagaraat the head of Lake Ontario, will be convenient stopping-places forfamilies intending to purchase lands in Upper Canada. 

"There is considerable competition among the Forwarding Companies atMontreal; emigrants therefore had better exercise a little cautionbefore agreeing for their transport to Prescott or Kingston, and theyshould avoid those persons that crowd on board the steam-boats onarrival at Montreal, offering their services to get passages, &c. Caution is also necessary at Prescott or Kingston, in selecting regularconveyances up Lake Ontario. I would particularly advise emigrantsdestined for Upper Canada, not to incur the expense of lodging or delayat Montreal, but to proceed on arrival of the steam-boat to the bargesfor Bytown or Prescott. 

"Labourers or mechanics dependent on immediate employment, are requestedto proceed immediately on arrival into the country. The chief agent willconsider such persons as may loiter about the ports of landing beyond_four days_ after their arrival, to have no further claims on theprotection of his Majesty's agents for assistance or employment, unlessthey have been detained by sickness or some other satisfactory cause. "

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Comparative Statement of the number of Emigrants arrived at Quebec from1829 to 1834 inclusive:--

[TABLE][Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

England and Wales1829: 3, 5651830: 6, 7991831: 10, 3431832: 17, 4811833: 5, 1981834: 6, 799

Ireland1829: 9, 6141830: 18, 3001831: 34, 1331832: 28, 2041833: 12, 0131834: 19, 206

Scotland1829: 2, 6431830: 2, 4501831: 5, 3541832: 5, 5001833: 4, 1961834: 4, 591

Hamburg & Gibraltar. 1832: 15

Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, West Indies, &c. 1829: 1231830: 4511831: 4241832: 5461833: 3451834: 339

Totals1829: 15, 9451830: 28, 0001831: 50, 2541832: 51, 7461833: 21, 7521834: 30, 935

The total number of emigrants arrived at Quebec, from 1829 to 1834, is198, 632. It will be remarked, that the number rose high in 1831 and1832, and fell very low in 1833. 

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Distribution of the 30, 935 Emigrants who arrived at Quebec during 1834:-

LOWER CANADA. City and District of Quebec: 1, 500District of Three Rivers: 350District of St. Francis and Eastern Townships: 640City and District of Montreal: 1, 200Ottawa District: 400Total to Lower Canada: 4, 090

UPPER CANADA. 

Ottawa, Bathurst, Midland and Eastern Districts, as far as Kingston, included: 1, 000District of Newcastle, and Townships in the vicinity of the Bay ofQuinte: 2, 650Toronto and the Home District, including Settlements around Lake Simco:8, 000Hamilton, Guelph, and Huron Tracts, and situations adjacent: 2, 660Niagara Frontier and District, including the line of the Welland Canal, and round the head of Lake Ontario, to Hamilton: 3, 300Settlements bordering on Lake Erie, including the London District, Adelaide Settlement, and on to Lake St. Clair: 4, 600Total to Upper Canada: 22, 210

Died of cholera in Upper and Lower Canada: 800Returned to United Kingdom: 350Went to the United States: 3, 485[Total:] 4, 635---------------------------------------

Of the number of 30, 935 Emigrants who arrived at Quebec in 1834, therewere of:--

Voluntary emigrants: 29, 041Assisted by parochial aid: 1, 892Number of males: 13, 565Number of females: 9, 683Number of children under fourteen years of age: 7, 681

Emigrants who prefer going into Canada by way of New York will receiveadvice and direction by applying to the British Consul at New York(James Buchanan, Esq. ) Formerly this gentleman could procure foremigrants who were positively determined to settle in the Canadas, permission to land their baggage and effects free of custom-house duty;but in a letter dated 16th March, 1835, he says:--

"In consequence of a change in the truly liberal course heretoforeadopted at this port, in permitting, without unpacking or payment ofduty, of the personal baggage, household, and farming utensils ofemigrants landing here to pass in transit through this state to hisMajesty's provinces, upon evidence being furnished of the fact, and thatsuch packages alone contained articles of the foregoing description, Ideem it my duty to make known that all articles arriving at this portaccompanying emigrants in transit to Canada, will be subject to the sameinspection as if to remain in the United States, and pay the duties towhich the same are subjected. I think it proper to mention that allarticles suited to new settlers are to be had in Canada on better termsthan they can be brought out--and such as are adapted to the country. "

The difference between proceeding to Upper Canada by way of Quebec andNew York, consists chiefly in the circumstance that the port of New Yorkis open all the year round, while the navigation of the St. Lawrence upto Quebec and Montreal is tedious, and the river is only open betweenseven and eight months of the year. The latter is, however, the cheapestroute. But to those who can afford it, New York is the most comfortableas well as the most expeditious way of proceeding to Upper Canada. 

The route, as given in a printed paper, distributed by the Britishconsul at New York, is as follows:--

"Route from New York and Albany by the Erie Canal to all parts of UpperCanada, west of Kingston, by the way of Oswego and Buffalo:--

New York to Albany, 160 miles by steam-boat. Albany to Utica, 110 do. By canal or stage. Utica to Syracuse, 55 do. By canal or stage. Syracuse to Oswego, 40 do. By canal or stage. Syracuse to Rochester, 99 do. By canal or stage. Rochester to Buffalo, 93 do. By canal or stage. 

Total expense from Albany to Buffalo, by canal, exclusive of victualsfor an adult steerage passenger--time going about 7 or 8 days--3 dollars63 cents; ditto by packet-boats, and found, 12-1/4 dollars, 6 daysgoing. 

"Ditto do. By stage, in 3-1/2 and 4 days--13 to 15 dollars. 

"Ditto do. From Albany to Oswego by canal, 5 days going, 2-1/2 dollars. 

"Ditto do. By stage, 2 days--6-1/2 to 7 dollars. 

"No extra charge for a moderate quantity of baggage. 

"Route from New York to Montreal, Quebec, and all parts of LowerCanada:--

"New York to Albany, 160 miles by steam-boat, 1 to 3 dollars, exclusiveof food. 

"Albany to Whitehall, by canal, 73 miles, 1 dollar; stage 3 dollars. 

"Whitehall to St. John's, by steam-boat, board included, cabin 5dollars; deck passage 2 dollars without board. 

"St. John's to Laprairie, 16 miles per stage, 5 shillings to 7 shillings6 pence. 

"Laprairie to Montreal, per ferry steam-boat, 8 miles. 6 pence. 

"Montreal to Quebec, by steam-boat, 180 miles, cabin, found, 1 pound, 5shillings; deck passage, not found, 7 shillings 6 pence. 

"Those proceeding to the eastern townships of Lower Canada, in thevicinity of Sherbrooke, Stanstead, &c. , &c. , will proceed to St. John's, from whence good roads lead to all the settled townships eastward. Ifthey are going to the Ottawa River, they will proceed from Montreal andLachine, from whence stages, steamboats, and batteaux go daily toGrenville, Hull, and Bytown, as also to Chateauguay, Glengary, Cornwall, Prescott, and all parts below Kingston. 

"Emigrants can avail themselves of the advice and assistance of thefollowing gentlemen:--at Montreal, Carlisle Buchanan, Esq. ; Prescott, John Patton, Esq. "

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Number of Emigrants who arrived at New York from the United Kingdom forsix years, from 1829 to 1834:--

[TABLE]

[Transcription note: The data presented below was originally in theconventional tabular row / column format. ]

Row 1. HeadingsColumn 1: Year. Column 2: England. Column 3: Ireland. Column 4: Scotland. Column 5: Total. 

Row 2Column 1: 1829Column 2: 8, 110Column 3: 2, 443Column 4: 948Column 5: 11, 501

Row 3Column 1: 1830Column 2: 16, 350Column 3: 3, 497Column 4: 1, 584Column 5: 21, 433

Row 4Column 1: 1831Column 2: 13, 808Column 3: 6, 721Column 4: 2, 078Column 5: 22, 607

Row 5Column 1: 1832Column 2: 18, 947Column 3: 6, 050Column 4: 3, 286Column 5: 28, 283

Row 6Column 1: 1833Column 2: -Column 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 16, 000

Row 7Column 1: 1834*Column 2: -Column 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 26, 540

Row 8Column 1: TotalColumn 2: -Column 3: -Column 4: -Column 5: 126, 464

* The returns for 1834 are made up to the 20th November of that year. 

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III. AMERICAN PASSENGERS' ACT. 

The 9th Geo. IV. , c. 21, commonly called the "American Passengers' Act, "was repealed during the Session of 1835, by an Act then passed, the 5and 6 Will. IV. , c. 53. The intention of the new Act is, of course, tosecure, as effectually as possible, and more effectually than theprevious Act did, the health and comfort of emigrants on board ofpassenger ships. By a clause of the Act, copies or abstracts are to bekept on board ships for the perusal of passengers, who may thus have anopportunity of judging whether the law has been complied with; but thediscovery of any infractions of the Statute may be made at a time when, in the particular instance, it may be too late to remedy it, so far asthe comfort and even the health of the passengers are concerned. It isto be hoped, therefore, that the humane intentions of the legislaturewill not be frustrated by any negligence on the part of those(especially of the officers of customs) whose business it is to see thatthe regulations of the Act have been complied with before each emigrantship leaves port. 

No passenger ship is to sail with more than three persons on board forevery five tons of registered burthen. Nor, whatever may be the tonnage, is there to be a greater number of passengers on board than after therate of one person for every ten superficial feet of the lower deck orplatform unoccupied by goods or stores, not being the personal luggageof the passengers. 

Ships with more than one deck to have five feet and a half; at theleast, between decks; and where a ship has only one deck, a platform isto be laid beneath the deck in such a manner as to afford a space of theheight of at least five feet and a half, and no such ship to have morethan two tiers of berths. Ships having two tiers of berths to have aninterval of at least six inches between the deck or platform, and thefloor of the lower tier throughout the whole extent. 

Passenger ships are to be provisioned in the following proportion:--purewater, to the amount of five gallons, to every week of the computedvoyage, for each passenger--the water to be carried in tanks or sweetcasks; seven pounds' weight of bread, biscuit, oatmeal, or bread stuffs, to every week for each passenger; potatoes may be included to one-thirdof the extent of supply, but seven pounds' weight of potatoes are to bereckoned equal to one pound of bread or bread stuffs. The voyage toNorth America is to be computed at ten weeks, by which each passengerwill be secured fifty gallons of water, and seventy pounds weight ofbread or bread stuffs for the voyage. 

Where there are 100 passengers, a medical practitioner is to be carried;if under 100, medicines of sufficient amount and kind are to be takenout as part of the necessary supplies. 

Passenger ships are not to be allowed to carry out ardent spirits asmerchandise beyond one-tenth of the quantity as would, but for thisrestriction, be allowed by the officers of the customs upon thevictualling bill of such ship for the outward voyage only, according tothe number of passengers. 

[An important restriction, which ought to be enforced to the letter ofthe law. The strong temptation which the tedium of a voyage presents tonumbers pinned up in a small space to resort to drinking, has frequentlymade sad havoc of the money, comfort, and health of emigrants, when, especially, the ship steward has contrived to lay in a good stock ofstrong waters. ]

In the enumeration of passengers, _two_ children above seven, but underfourteen, or _three_ under seven years of age, are to be reckoned as onepassenger. Infants under 12 months are not to be included in theenumeration. 

Passengers are entitled to be maintained on board for 48 hours after theship has arrived at her destination. [Emigrants whose means are limitedmay thus avoid much inconvenience and expense, by planning and executingwith promptitude the route which they mean to take, instead of landing, and loitering in the expensive houses of entertainment of a sea-port. ]

Masters of ships are to enter into bonds of 1, 000 pounds for the dueperformance of the provisions of the Act. The penalty on any infractionof the law is to be not less than 5 pounds, nor more than 20 pounds foreach offence. 

[The government emigration agents at the various ports, or the officersof customs, will doubtless give every facility to passengers who seektheir advice relative to any violation of the provisions of the Act, andpoint out the proper course to be taken. ]

If there be any doubt that a ship about to sail is not sea-worthy, thecollector and comptroller of the customs may cause the vessel to besurveyed. Passengers detained beyond the time contracted for to sail, are to be maintained at the expense of the master of the ship; or, ifthey have contracted to victual themselves, they are to be paid 1shilling each for each day of detention not caused by stress of weatheror other unavoidable cause. 

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IV. TRANSFER OF CAPITAL. 

It is, of course, of the greatest importance to emigrants that whatevercapital they may possess, over the necessary expenses of the voyage, &c. , should be remitted to Canada in the _safest_ and most _profitable_manner. Both the British American Land Company and the Canada Companyafford facilities to emigrants, by receiving deposits and grantingletters of credit on their agents in Canada, by which the emigrantsobtain the benefit of the current premium of exchange. It is unsafe andinjudicious to carry out a larger amount of specie than what will defraythe necessary expenses of the voyage, because a double risk isincurred, --the danger of losing, and the temptation of squandering. Theemigrant, therefore, who does not choose to remit his money througheither of the before-mentioned companies, should procure a letter ofcredit from some respectable bank in the United Kingdom on the Montrealbank. 

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V. CANADIAN CURRENCY. 

In all the British North American colonies accounts are kept and pricesare quoted in pounds, shillings, and pence, as in England. The accountsare contra-distinguished by calling the former currency, or Halifaxcurrency, and the latter sterling or British sterling. 

The one pound Halifax currency, or currency, as it is more commonlycalled, consists of four Spanish dollars. The dollar is divided intofive parts--called in Spanish pistoreens--each of which is termed ashilling. Each of these shillings or pistoreens is again subdivided intotwelve parts, called pence, but improperly, for there is no coinanswering to any such subdivision. To meet the want a great variety ofcopper coins are used, comprising the old English halfpenny, thehalfpenny of later coinage, the penny, the farthing, the American cent. ;all and each pass as the twenty-fourth part of the pistoreen or colonialshilling. Pence in fact are not known, though almost anything of thecopper kind will be taken as the twenty-fourth part of the pistoreen. *

[* The Americans also have their 1 shilling, which is the eighth part ofa dollar, or 12-1/2 cents. It is no uncommon thing to hear the emigrantboast that he can get 10 shillings per day in New York. He knows notthat a dollar, which is equal to eight of these shillings, is in Englandequivalent but to 4 shillings 2 pence, and that the American shillingis, therefore, when compared with the English shilling in value, only6-1/4 pence, and consequently, that 10 shillings a day is, in fact, butten 6-1/4 pence or 5 shillings 2-1/2 pence. This rate of payment it maybe said is still great; so it is, but it is not often obtained by thelabourer; when it is, it is for excessive labour, under a burning sun insea-port towns, during the busy shipping season. ]

At a time when the Spanish dollar, the piece of eight, as it was thencalled, was both finer and heavier than the coin now in circulation, itsvalue at the mint price of silver** was found to be 4 shilling 6 pencesterling. Accordingly, the pound currency was fixed at 18 shillingssterling, and 90 pounds sterling was equal to 100 pounds currency, therules of conversion being, _add one-ninth to sterling to obtaincurrency, and deduct one tenth from currency to find the sterling_. Thiswas called the par of exchange, and was so then. So long as it continuedcorrect, fluctuations were from a trifle above, to a trifle below par, and this fluctuation was a real _premium_ or _discount_, governed by thecost of the transportation of bullion from the one to the other side ofthe Atlantic, an expense which now does not exceed, and rarely equals, 2per cent. 4 shilling 6 pence has long ceased to be the value of thedollar. Both the weight and purity of the coin have been reduced, untilits value in the London market*** is not more than 4 shillings 2 pence, the pound currency being consequently reduced to 16 shillings 8 pencesterling and 100 pounds sterling become equivalent to 120 poundscurrency, or 480 dollars, the common average rate now given for the 100pounds sterling bill of exchange in England. 

[** The mint price then coincided more nearly with the market price thanat present. ]

[*** It is necessary to use the market price, as the difference betweenthe mint and the market price is 4 per cent. , and as the Spanish dollarpossesses no conventional value, it is only worth what it will bring asan article of traffic. ]

The Government, however, still sanction, nay, will not change, the oldlanguage, so that the difference is made up by adding what is commonlytermed a _premium_. The difference between the _real_ par, 4 shillings2 pence, and the nominal par, 4 shillings 6 pence, is 4 pence or eight percent. Thus the fluctuations, instead of being from 1 to 2 per cent. Below, to 1 or 2 per cent. Above the _real_ par, are from 1 to 2 percent. Below, to 1 to 2 per cent. Above 8 per cent. _premium_ as it iscalled on the _nominal_ par, or from 6 or 7 to 9 or 10 per cent. _premium_ on the par. This leads to gross deception, and the emigrant inconsequence is not unfrequently outrageously cheated by partiesaccounting to him for money obtained by sale of bills, minus this orsome portion of this nominal premium. Nothing is more common than tohear the new comer boast that he has sold his bill on England for 8 percent. Premium, while in fact he has not received _par_ value. As by theabove changes 100 pounds sterling is shewn to be equal to 120 currency, or 480 dollars, the rule of conversion, in the absence of a law, whereno understanding to the contrary existed, should be, _add one-fifth tosterling money, and currency is obtained, or deduct one-sixth fromcurrency, and sterling is found. _ An examination of the exchanges forten years has proved this to be correct. 

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VI. THE CANADA COMPANY. 

The Canada Company was incorporated by royal charter and Act ofParliament in 1826. The following are extracts from the prospectus ofthe Company:--

"The Canada Company have lands for sale in almost every part of theprovince of Upper Canada, on terms which cannot fail to be highlyadvantageous to the emigrant, as from the Company requiring only one-fifth of the purchase-money to be paid in cash, and allowing theremainder to be divided into five annual payments, bearing interest, thesettler, if industrious, is enabled to pay the balance from the produceof the land. 

"The lands of the Canada Company are of three descriptions, viz. --

Scattered reserves:Blocks or tracts of land, of from 1, 000 to 40, 000 acres each;The Huron tract, containing upwards of 1, 000, 000 acres. 

"_Scattered reserves_. The scattered crown reserves are lots of land offrom 100 to 200 acres each, distributed through nearly every township inthe province, and partaking of the soil, climate, &c. , of eachparticular township. These lands are especially desirable for personswho may have friends settled in their neighbourhood, and can be obtainedat prices varying from 8 shillings 9 pence to 25 shillings currency anacre. 

"_Blocks of Land. _ The blocks or tracts lie entirely in that part of theprovince situated to the westward of the head of Lake Ontario, andcontain lands which, for soil, climate, and powers of production, areequal, and perhaps superior, to any on the continent of America. Theseare worthy the attention of communities of emigrants, who from country, relationship, religion, or any other bond, wish to settle together. 

"The largest block of this kind in the Company's possession is thetownship of Guelph, containing upwards of 40, 000 acres, of which thegreater part has been already sold, and, in the space of a few yearsonly, a town has been established, containing churches, schools, stores, taverns, and mills, and where there are mechanics of every kind, and asociety of a highly respectable description. 

"_The Huron Territory_. This is a tract of the finest land in America, through which the Canada Company have cut two roads of upwards of 100miles in extent, of the best description of which a new country admits. 

The population there is rapidly on the increase. 

"The town of Goderich, at the mouth of the river Maitland, on LakeHuron, is very flourishing, and contains several excellent stores, ormerchants' shops, in which any article usually required by a settler isto be obtained on reasonable terms. There is a good school established, which is well attended; a Church of England and a Presbyterian clergymanare appointed there; and as the churches in Upper Canada are nowprincipally supported by the voluntary subscriptions of their respectivecongregations, an inference may be drawn of the respectable character ofthe inhabitants of this settlement and the neighbourhood. The town andtownship of Goderich contain about 1, 000 inhabitants; and since thesteam-boat, built by the Company for the accommodation of theirsettlers, has commenced running between Goderich and Sandwich, a greatincrease has taken place in the trade and prosperity of the settlement. In this tract there are four good saw-mills, three grist-mills, and inthe neighbourhood of each will be found stores well supplied. And as thetract contains a million acres, the greater portion of which is open forsale, an emigrant or body of emigrants, however large, can have nodifficulty in selecting eligible situations, according to theircircumstances, however various they may be. The price of these lands isfrom 11 shillings 3 pence to 15 shillings provincial currency, or aboutfrom 11 shillings to 13 shillings 6 pence sterling per acre. "

Emigrants wishing to communicate with the Company should address thesecretary, John Perry Esq. , St. Helen's-place, Bishopsgate-street, London, or the Company's agents at outports. 

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VII. THE BRITISH AMERICAN LAND COMPANY. 

The British American Land Company state, in their prospectus, that theyhave purchased from the British Government "nearly 1, 000, 000 of acres inthe counties of Shefford, Stanstead, and Sherbrooke, " in what are termed"the Eastern Townships of Lower Canada. " These townships comprise "atract of country, lying inland, on the south side of the St. Lawrence, between 45 degrees and 46-1/2 degrees north latitude, and 71 degrees and73 degrees west longitude. This tract, containing between five and sixmillions of acres, is divided into eight counties, and these again aresubdivided into about one hundred townships. These townships enjoy animportant advantage in their geographical position. On the one side, they are of easy access from Montreal, Quebec, and Three Rivers, theshipping ports and great markets of the Canadas; on the other, from NewYork up the Hudson River and through Lake Champlain, as well as fromBoston and other parts on the seaboard of the Atlantic. By their compactand contiguous position, facility of intercourse and mutual support areensured throughout the whole, as well as a general participation in alllocal improvements. "

The terms on which the Company propose to dispose of these lands "varyaccording to the situation, quality, and advantages which the differentlots may possess; but in the first instance they will generally rangefrom 4 shillings to 10 shillings currency per acre, and in all cases adeposit of part of the purchase-money will be required, viz. :--On thehigher priced lots one-fifth; on the lower priced lots one-fourth. 

"The terms of payment for the balance will be six annual instalments, bearing the legal interest of the province from the date of sale; butshould purchasers prefer anticipating the payments, they will have theoption at any time of doing so. 

"The price of a building lot at Port St. Francis, for the present season(1835), is 12 pounds 10 shillings, payable 5 pounds cash down, and thebalance in one year, with interest. 

"Deposits of purchase-money may be made with the Company in London forlands to be selected by emigrants on their arrival in the country. 

"By the agreement between his Majesty's Government and the Company, upwards of 50, 000 pounds of the purchase-money paid by the latter are tobe expended by them in public works and improvements, such as highroads, bridges, canals, school-houses, market-houses, churches, andparsonage-houses. This is an extremely important arrangement, and mustprove highly beneficial to settlers, as it assures to them theimprovement and advancement of this district. The formation of roads andother easy communications are the great wants of a new country; and theapplication of capital on works of this nature, which are beyond themeans of private individuals, is the best mode by which the successfulsettlement may be promoted and accomplished. 

"The expenditure of the large sum above mentioned, will offer at thesame time an opportunity of employment to honest and industriouslabourers, immediately on arrival. "

The office of the British American Land Company is at 4, Barge-yard, Bucklersbury, London: they have also agents at the various outports. 

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Transcription note: Except for the tables in the Appendix, which havebeen reformatted to accommodate the presentation of tables in plain text, this transcription attempts to faithfully reproduce the text andpunctuation found in the 1836 printed version of the book. As aconsequence, numerous instances of spelling and punctuation may appearincorrect by current standards.