be much in the habit of seeing farmers, has
not always just conceptions. He must not live in a village newly made,
but actually reside in a log-hut, just erecting, to know what life in
the Bush is. Gentlemen and lady travellers are the worst judges
possible, because, even if they go and visit their friends, the best
foot is always put foremost to receive them, and vanity or love
induces every sacrifice to make them comfortable.

They see nothing of the labours of the seven months' winter, of the
aguish wet autumn, of the uncertain spring, of the tropical summer, of
ice, of frost, of musquitoes and black flies, of mud and mire, of
swamp and rock, of all the innumerable drawbacks with which the spirit
of the settler has to contend, or the very coarse and scanty fare to
solace him after his toils of the day.

See a young pair of brothers, sons of an officer of high rank, whose
father dying left them but partially provided for, with a mother and
several grown-up daughters.

They fly to France to live. This resource might, by a war, be soon
broken up. The sons collect what remains of money--they arrive in
Canada. They purchase cheap land far in the interior, miles away from
any town. They build a log-hut, clear their land, and accumulate
gradually the furniture and household goods. Toil, toil, toil. The
log-hut is enlarged. The mother and daughters are invited from home to
join their "life in the Bush." They are expected. Everything is made
comfortable for them. The brothers are chopping in the woods--night
approaches. They return--return to find their log-house, furniture,
wardrobe, books, linen--every thing consumed. They are wanderers in
the wilderness. Do they despair? Yes, because one brother, the
strongest, takes cold--he lingers, he dies.

The survivor, indomitable, yet bowing under his accumulated
afflictions, assisted by his neighbours, builds another log-house. His
mother and sisters arrive, are dispersed among the nearest neighbours,
get the ague. Struggle, struggle, struggle! on, on, on! The pension
here is of service. The girls, brought up in luxury, scions of a good
race, turn their hands cheerfully to do every thing. Their conduct is
admired. Other settlers from the gentry at home arrive with some
capital. The locality turns out good. The girls marry well. The
surviving son, ten years afterwards, has four hundred acres of his
own--thinks of building a house fit for a gentleman farmer to live in,
and is s