Meanwhile a pleasant interruption occurs in the post-horn winding loud and clear along the settlement. This is an event of rare occurrence in the back woods, where the want of a regular post communication is much felt, not so much in matters of worldly importance in business—these being generally transacted without the medium of letters—as by those who have loved ones in other lands. Alas! how often has the heart pined with the sickness of hope deferred, in waiting in vain for those long-expected lines, from the distant and the dear, which had been duly sent in all the spirit of affection, but which had been mislaid in their wanderings by land or sea; or the post-masters not being particularly anxious to know where the land of Goshen, the Pembroke, or the Canaan settlements were situated, had returned them to the dead letter office, and thus they never reached the persons for whom they were intended, and who lived on upbraiding those who, believing them to be no longer dwellers of the earth, cherished their memory with fondest love. Taking all these things into consideration, a meeting had been called in our settlement to ascertain if by subscription a sufficient sum could be raised to pay a weekly courier to assert our rights at the nearest post-office. This was entered into with spirit, all feeling sensible of the benefits which it would bring; they who could afford it giving freely of their abundance, and those who could not pay their subscription all inmoney, giving half a dollar cash, and a bushel or half a bushel of buck wheat or potatoes to the cause; and thus the sum necessary was soon raised—the courier himself subscribing a dollar towards his own salary. The thing had gone on very well—communication with the world seemed to have commenced all at once. Nearly every family took a different newspaper, and these being exchanged with each other, afforded plenty of food for the mind, and prevented it brooding too deeply over the realities of life.
The newspapers in this country, especially those of the United States, are not merely dull records of parliamentary doings, of bill and debate, the rising of corn or falling of wheat, but contain besides reviews and whole copies of the newest and best works of the day, both in science and lighter literature. We dwellers of the forest had no guineas to give for new books, and if we had, unless we freighted ships home on purpose, we could not have procured them. But this was not felt, while for our few yearly dollars the Albion's pearly paper and clear black type brought for society around our hearths the laughter-loving "Lorrequer," the pathos of the portrait painter, or the soul-winning Christopher North, whose every word seems written in letters of gold, incrusted with precious jewels. In the "New World" Froissart gave his chronicles of the olden time, and the mammoth sheets of "Era" and "The Notion" brought us the peerless pages of "Zanoni," or led us away with "Dickens" and "Little Nell," by the green glades and ancient churches of England. Little did we think while we read with delight of this author's princely welcome to the American continent, what would be the result of his visit, he came and passed like the wild Simoom. Soon after his return to England an edict came, forbidding in the British provinces of America publications containing reprints of English works. Of the deeper matters connected with the copyright question I know not, but this I do know, that our long winter nights seemed doubly long and drear, with nothing to read but dark details of horrid murder, or deadly doings of Rebeccaite and Chartist. As yet, however, this time was not come, and each passing week saw us now enlightened with the rays of some new bright gem of genius.
The postman blew his horn as he passed each dwelling for whose inmates he had letters or papers; and for those whose address lay beyond his route, places of depository were appointed in the settlement. Mrs. Gordon's was one of these, from whence they were duly despatched by the first chance to their destinations on the Nashwaak, Waterloo, or Windsor clearings. Although our Mercury would duly have signalised his approach as he passed our own dwelling, I possessed myself of my treasure here—my share of the priceless wealth of that undying intellect which is allowed to pour its brilliant flood, freely and untramelled, to the lowliest homes of the American world. Having glanced along the lines and seen that our first favourites had visited us this week, our tea seemed to bear with it an added fragrance; and this, although the walls around us were of logs, we had in fairy cups of ancient porcelain from the distant land of Scotland. And now the sun'sbroad disc having vanished behind the lofty pines, and the young moon rising in the blue heavens, tell us our short twilight will soon be gone, and that if we would reach home before the stars look out upon our path, 'tis time we were on our way.
The cow bells are ringing loud and clear as the herd winds slowly homeward, looking most luxuriantly comfortable, and bearing with them the spicy scent of the cedar-woods in which they have been wandering, and which they seem to leave so unwillingly. Philoprogenitiveness, or a deep feeling of motherly affection, being the only thing that does voluntarily induce them to come home. To encourage this desirable feeling the leader of the herd, the lady of the bell, is allowed to suckle her calf every evening. For this happy task she leaves all the delights of her pasture, plodding regularly homeward at the hour of sunset, the rest all meekly following in her train.
The evening is dry and clear, with no trace of rain in the atmosphere, or we would be surrounded with clouds of thoseawful critturs, the musquitoes, which the cattle bring home. These are often a dreadful annoyance, nothing but a thick cloud of smoke dispelling them, and that only for a time. At night they are particularly a nuisance, buzzing and stinging unceasingly through the silent hours, forbidding all thought of sleep till the dawn shows them clinging to the walls and windows, wearied and bloated with their night's amusement. Those who are sufficiently acclimated suffer comparatively little—'tis the rich blood of the stranger that the musquito loves, and emigrants, on the first season, especially in low marshy situations, suffer extremely from their attacks.
Mary Gordon having now gone with her pails to meet her milky charge, while her mother arranges the dairy within, Helen comes to set me on my way. Again we meet the frolickers returning rather earlier than is usual on such occasions; but there was sickness at the dwelling where they had been, which caused them to disperse soon after they had accomplished the "raising." Kindly greetings passed between us; for here, in this little world of ours, we have hardly room for the petty distinctions and pettier strifes of larger communities. We are all well acquainted with each other, and know each other's business and concerns as well as our own. There is no concealment of affairs. This, however, saves a vast deal of trouble—people are much easier where there is no false appearance to be kept up; and in New Brunswick there is less of "behind the scenes" than in most places. Many a bright eye glances under Helen's shadowy hat: and, see, one gallant axe-man lingers behind the others—he pauses now by the old birch tree—I know he is her lover, and in charity to their young hearts I must allow her to turn, while we proceed onward.
The fire-flies now gleam through the air like living diamonds, and the evening star has opened her golden eye in the rich deep azure of the sky. Our home stands before us, with its white walls thrown in strong relief by the dark woods behind it: and here, on this adjoining lot, lives our neighbour who is ill—he who to-day has had the "barn raising." It would be but friendly to call and enquire for him. The house is one of the best description of log buildings. The ground floorcontains two large apartments and a spacious porch, which extends along the front, has the dairy in one end and a workshop in the other, that most useful adjunct to a New Brunswick dwelling, where the settlers are often their own blacksmiths and carpenters, as well as splint pounders and shingle weavers. The walls are raised high enough to make the chamber sufficiently lofty, and the roof is neatly shingled. As we enter, an air of that undefinable English ideality—comfort—seems diffused, as it were, in the atmosphere of the place. There is a look of retirement about the beds, which stand in dim recesses of the inner apartment, with their old but well-cared-for chintz hangings, differing from the free uncurtained openness of the blue nose settler's couch; a publicity of sleeping arrangements being common all over America, and much disliked by persons from the old countries, a bed being a prominent piece of furniture in the sitting and keeping rooms of even those aristocratic personages, the first settlers. The large solid-looking dresser, which extends nearly along one side of the house, differs too from the light shelf of the blue nose, which rests no more crockery than is absolutely necessary. Here there is a wide array of dishes, large and small—old China tea-cups, wisely kept for show,—little funny mugs, curious pitchers, mysterious covered dishes, unearthly salad bowls, and a host of superannuated tea-pots. Above them is ranged a bright copper kettle, a large silvery pewter basin, and glittering brazen candlesticks, all brought from their English home, and borne through toil and danger, like sacred relics, from the shrine of the household gods. The light of the fire is reflected on the polished surface of a venerable oaken bureau, whose unwieldy form has also come o'er the deep sea, being borne along the creeks and rivers of New Brunswick, and dragged through forest paths to its present resting place. In the course of its wanderings by earth and ocean it has become minus a foot, the loss of which is supplied by an unsmoothed block of pine, the two forming not an inapt illustration of their different countries. The polished oaken symbol of England receiving assistance in its hour of need from the rude but hardy pine emblem of New Brunswick. The room is cool and quiet; the young people being outside with a few who have lingered after the frolic. By the open window, around which a hop vine is enwreathed, in memory of the rose-bound casements of England, and through which comes a faint perfume from the balm of gilead trees, sits the invalid, seemingly refreshed with the pleasant things around him. He has been suffering from rheumatic fever caught in the changeful days of the early spring, when the moist air penetrates through nerve and bone, and when persons having the least tendency to rheumatism, or pulmonary complaints, cannot use too much caution. At no other season is New Brunswick unhealthy; for the winter, although cold, is dry and bracing. The hot months are not so much so as to be injurious, and the bland breezes of the fall and Indian summer are the most delightful that can be imagined.
Stephen Morris had come from England, like the generality of New Brunswick settlers, but lightly burthened with worldly gear—but gifted with the unpurchasable treasures of a strong arm and willing spirit, that is, a spirit resolved to do its best, and not be overcome with the difficulties to be encountered in the struggle of subduing the mighty wilderness. While he felled the forest, his wife, accustomed in her own country to assist in all field labours, toiled with him in piling and fencing as well as in planting and reaping. Even their young children learned to know that every twig they lifted off the ground left space for a blade of grass or grain; beginning with this, their assistance soon became valuable, and the labour of their hands in the field soon lightened the burthen of feeding their lips. Slowly and surely had Stephen gone onward, keeping to his farm and minding nothing else, unlike many of the emigrants, who, while professing to be farmers, yet engage in other pursuits, particularly lumbering, which, although the mainspring of the province and source of splendid wealth to many of the inhabitants, has yet been the bane of others. Allured by the visions of speedy riches it promises, they have neglected their farms, and engaged in its glittering speculations with the most ardent hopes, which have far oftener been blighted than realised. A sudden change in trade, or an unexpected storm in the spring, having bereft them of all, and left them overwhelmed in debt, with neglected and ruined lands, with broken constitutions, (for the lumberer's life is most trying to the health,) and often too with broken hearts, and minds all unfitted for the task of renovating their fortune. Their life afterwards is a bitter struggle to get above water; that tyrant monster, their heavy debt, still chaining them downwards, devouring with insatiategreed their whole means, for interest or bond, until it be discharged; a hard matter for them to accomplish—so hard that few do it, and the ruined lumberer sinks, to the grave with its burthen yet upon him. Stephen had kept aloof from this, and now surveyed,
"——With pride beyond a monarch's spoil,His honest arm's own subjugated toil."
"——With pride beyond a monarch's spoil,His honest arm's own subjugated toil."
A neighbour of his had come out from England at the same time he had done and commenced farming an adjoining lot, but he soon wearied of the slow returns of his land and commenced lumbering. For a time he went on dashingly, the merchants in town supplying him freely with provisions and everything necessary to carry on his timber-making—whilst Stephen worked hard and lived poor, he enjoyed long intervals of ease and fared luxuriantly. But a change came: one spring the water was too low to get his timber down, the next the freshet burst at once and swept away the labour of two seasons, and ere he got another raft to market, the price had fallen so low that it was nearly valueless. He returned dispirited to his home and tried to conceal himself from his creditors, the merchants whom the sale of his timber was to have repaid for the supplies they had advanced; but his neglected fields showed now but a crop of bushes and wild laurel, or an ill-piled clearing, with a scanty crop of buck-wheat; while Stephen Morris looked from his window on fair broad fields from whence the stumps had all disappeared, where the long grass waved rich with clover-flowers between, and many a tract that promised to shine with autumn wreaths of golden grain; leaflets and buds were close and thick on the orchard he had planted, and where erst the wild-bush stood now bloomed the lovely rose. On a green hill before him stood the lofty frame of the building this evening raised, with all its white tracery of beam and rafter, a new but welcome feature in the landscape. A frame barn is the first ambition of the settler's heart; without one much loss and inconvenience is felt. Hay and grain are not stacked out as in other countries, but are all placed within the shelter of the barn; these containing, as they often do, the whole hay crop, besides the grain and accommodation for the cattle, must, of course, be of large dimensions, and are consequently expensive. With this Stephen had proceeded surely and cautiously as was his wont. In the winter he had hauled logs off his own land to the saw-mill to be made into boards. He cut down with much trouble some of the ancient pines which long stood in the centre of his best field, and from their giant trunks cut well-seasoned blocks, with which he made shingles in the stormy days of winter. Thus by degrees he provided all the materials for enclosing and roofing, and was not obliged, as many are, to let the frame, (which is the easiest part provided, and which they often raise without seeming even to think how they are to be enclosed,) stand for years, like a huge grey skeleton, with timbers all warped and blackened by the weather. Steadily as Stephen had gone on, yet as the completion of his object became nearer he grew impatient of its accomplishment, and determined to have his barn ready for the reception of his hay harvest; and for this purpose he worked on, hewing at the frame in the spring, reckless of the penetrating rain, the chill wind, or the damp earth beneath, and thus, by neglect of the natural laws, he was thrown upon the couch of sickness, where he lay long. This evening, however, he was better, and sat gazing with pleased aspect on the scene, and then I saw his eyes turn from the fair green hill and its new erection to where, in the hollow of a low and marshy spot of land, stood the moss-grown logs and sunken walls of the first shelter he had raised for his cattle—his old log barn, which stood on the worst land of the farm, but when it was raised the woods around were dark and drear, and he knew not the good soil from the bad; yet now he thought how, in this unseemly place, he had stored his crop and toiled for years with unfailing health, where his arm retained its nerve, unstrung neither by summer's heat nor winter's cold, when the voice of his son, a tall stripling, who had managed affairs during his illness, recalled him to the present, which certainly to him I thought might wear no unfavourable aspect. He had literally caused the wilderness to blossom as the rose, and saw rising around him not a degenerate but an improving race, gifted far beyond himself with bright mental endowments, the spontaneous growth of the land they lived in, and which never flourish more fairly than when engrafted on the old English stem; that is, the children of emigrants, or the Anglo-bluenoses, have the chance of uniting the high-aspiring impulses of young America to the more solid principles of the olden world, thus forming a decided improvement in the native race of bothcountries. But Stephen has too much of human nature in him not to prefer the past, and I saw that the sunbeams of memory rested brightly on the old log barn, obscuring the privations and years of bitter toil and anxiety connected with it, and dimming his eyes to ought else, however better; so that I left him to his meditations, and after a step of sixty rods, the breadth of the lot, I am once more at home, where, as it is now dark, we will close the door and shut out the world, to this old country prejudice has made us attach a small wooden button inside, the only fastening, except the latch, I believe, in the settlement. Bolts and bars being all unused, the business of locksmith is quite at a discount in the back woods, where all idea of a midnight robbery is unknown; and yet, if rumour was true, there were persons not far from us to whom the trade of stealing would not be new. One there was of whom it was said, that for this reason alone was New Brunswick graced with his presence. He had in his own country been taken in a daring act of robbery, and conveyed in the dark of night to be lodged in gaol. The officers were kind-hearted, and, having secured his hands, allowed his wife to accompany him, themselves walking a short distance apart. At first the lady kept up a most animated conversation, apparently upbraiding the culprit for his conduct. He answered her, but by degrees he seemed so overcome by her remarks that he spoke no more, and she had all the discourse to herself. Having arrived at their destination, the officers approached their prisoner, but he was gone, the wife alone remained. The darkness of the night bad favoured his escape while she feigned to be addressing him, and, having thus defeated the law, joined her spouse, and made the best of their way to America, where the workings of the law of kindness were exemplified in his case. His character being there generally unknown, he was treated and trusted as an honest man, and he broke not his faith. The better feelings were called into action; conscientiousness, though long subdued, arose and breathed through his spirit the golden rule of right.
The days in America are never so short in winter as they are in Europe, nor are they so long in summer, and there is always an hour or two of the cool night to be enjoyed ere the hour of rest comes. Our evening lamp is already lighted, and our circle increased by the presence of the school-mistress.
Although in this country the local government has done much towards the advancement of schools, yet much improvement requires to be made—not in their simple internal arrangements, for which there is no regular system, but in the more important article of remuneration. The government allows twenty pounds a year to each school; the proprietors, or those persons who send their children to the school, agreeing to pay the teacher a like sum at least (though in some of the older settled parts of the country from forty to fifty pounds is paid by them); as part payment of this sum providing him with board, &c., &c., and this alone is the evil part of the scheme; this boarding in turn with the proprietors, who keep him a week or a month in proportion to the number of the pupils they send, and to make up their share ofthe year, for which term he is hired, as his engagement is termed—an expression how derogatory to the dignity of many a learned dominie? From this cause the teacher has no home, no depository for his books, which are lost in wandering from place to place; and if he had them, no chance for study: for the log-house filled with children and wheels is no fit abode for a student. This boarding system operates badly in many ways. The nature of the blue nose is still leavened with that dislike of coercive measures inherited from their former countrymen, the Yankees. It extends to their children, and each little black-eyed urchin, on his wooden bench and dog-eared dilworth in hand, must be treated by his teacher as a free enlightened citizen. But even without this, where is there in any country a schoolmaster daring enough to use a ratan, or birch rod, to that unruly darling from whose mother he knows his evening reception will be sour looks, and tea tinged with sky-blue, but would not rather let the boy make fox-and-geese instead of, ciphering, say his lesson when he pleased, and have cream and short-cake for his portion. Another disagreeable thing is, that fond and anxious as they are for "larning," they have not yet enough of it to appreciate the value of education. The schoolmaster is not yet regarded as the mightiest moral agent of the earth; the true vicegerent of the spirit from above, by which alone the soul is truly taught to plume her wings and shape her course for Heaven. And in this country, where operative power is certain wealth, he who can neither wield axe or scythe may be looked on with a slight shade of contempt: but this only arises from constant association with the people; for were the schoolmaster more his own master, and less under their surveillance by having a dwelling of his own, his situation otherwise would be comfortable and lucrative.
The state of school affairs begins to attract much notice from the legislature, and no doubt the present system of school government will soon be improved. A board of education is appointed in each county, whose office it is to examine candidates for the office of parish school teacher, and report to the local governor as to their competency, previous to his conferring the required license. Trustees are also appointed in the several parishes, who manage the other business connected with them, such as regulating their number, placing masters where they are most wanted, and receiving and apportioning the sum appropriated to their support, or encouragement, by the government. Mr. B. held this situation, and frequent were the visits of the lords of the birch to our domicile, either asking redress for fancied wrongs, or to discuss disputed points of school discipline.
The female teachers are situated much the same, save that many of them, preferring a quiet home to gain, pay for their board out of their cash salary, and give up that which they could otherwise claim from the people. This, however, is by no means general, and the present mistress has come to stay her term with us, although having no occasion for the school, yet wishing to hasten the march of intellect through the back woods, we paid towards it, and boarded the teacher, as if we had. Grace Marley, who held this situation now, was a sweet wild-flower from the Emerald Isle, with spirits bright and changeful as the dewy skies of her own loved Erin. Her graceful but fully rounded figure shows none of those anatomical corners described by Captain Hamilton in the appearance of the native American ladies. Her dark eye speaks with wondrous truth the promptings of her heart, and her brown hair lies like folds of satin on her cheek, from which the air of America has not yet drank all the rose light. From her fairy ear of waxen white hangs a golden pendant, the treasured gift of one far distant. Before her, on the table, liesChambers' Journal, which always found its way a welcome visitant to our settlement, soon after the spring fleet had borne it over the Atlantic. She has been reading one of Mrs. Hall's stories, which, good as they are, are yet little admired by the Irish in America. The darker hues which she pourtrays in the picture of their native land have become to them all softened in the distance; and by them is their country cherished there, as being indeed that beautiful ideal "first flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea." A slight indignant flush, raised by what she had been reading, was on her brow as I entered; but this gave place to the heart-crushing look of disappointment I had often seen her wear, as I replied in the negative to her question, if there was a letter for her. From where, or whom she expected this letter I knew not, yet as still week after week passed away and brought her none, the same shade had passed over her face.
And now, reader, as the night wanes apace, and you no doubt are wearied with this day's journey through our settlement, I shall wish to you
"A fair good night, with easy dreams and slumbers light,"
"A fair good night, with easy dreams and slumbers light,"
while I, who like most authors am not at all inclined to sleep over my own writing, will sketch what I know of the history of Grace Marley, whose memory forms a sweet episode in my transatlantic experiences.
Grace had been left an orphan and unprovided for in her own country, when a relation, who had been prosperous here, wrote for her to come out. She did come, and at first seemed happy, but 'twas soon evident her heart was not here, and she sighed to return to her native land, where the streams were brighter, and the grass grew greener than elsewhere. Her friends, vexed at her obstinacy in determining so firmly to return, would give her no assistance for this purpose, fancying that she felt but that nostalgic sickness felt by all on their first arrival in America, and that like others she would become reconciled in time. But she was firm in her resolve, and to procure funds wherewithal to return she commenced teaching a school, for which her education had well qualified her. It was not likely that such a girl as Grace would, in this land of marrying and giving in marriage, be without fonder solicitations to induce her to remain, and a tall blue nose, rejoicing in the appellation of Leonidas van Wort, and lord of six hundred noble acres, was heard to declare one fall, that she, for an Irish girl, was "raal downright good-looking," and guessed he knew which way "his tracks would lay when snow came." Snow did come, and Leonidas, arrayed in his best "go-to-meeting style," geared up his sleigh, and what with bear skins and bells, fancying himself and appurtenances enough to charm the heart of any maid or matron in the back woods, set off to spark Grace Marley. "Sparking," the term used in New Brunswick for courtship, now that the old fashion of "bundling" is gone out, occupies much of the attention (as, indeed, where does it not?) of young folks. They, for this purpose, take Moore's plan of lengthening their days, by "stealing a few hours from the night," and generally breathe out their tender vows, not beneath the "milk-white thorn," but by the soft dim light of the birch-wood fire; the older members of the family retiring and leaving the lovers to their own sweet society.
Although it has been sometimes observed that mothers who, in their own young days, have been versed in this custom, insist most pertinaciously in sitting out the wooer, in spite of insinuations as to the pleasure their absence would occasion, still keep their easy chair, with unwearied eyes and fingers busied in their everlasting knitting. Grace's beau was most hospitably received by her aunt and uncle, who considering him quite an "eligible," wished to further him all in their power, soon left the pair to themselves, telling Grace that it would be the height of rudeness not to follow the custom of the country. She politely waited for Leonidas to commence the conversation, but he, unused to her proceeding, could say nothing, not even ask her if she liked maple sugar; and so, being unused to deep study, while thinking how to begin, fell asleep, a consummation Grace was most delighted to witness. By the fire stood the small American churn, which, as is often the case in cold weather, had been placed there to be in readiness for the morrow; this Grace, with something of the quiet humour which made Jeanie Deans treat Dumbie-dykes to fried peats in place of collops, she lifted and placed it by the sleeper's side, throwing over it a white cloth, which fell like folds of drapery, and softly retired to rest herself. Her uncle, on coming into the room at the dawn of morning, beheld the great Leonidas still sleeping, and his arm most lovingly encircling the churn dash, which no doubt in his dreams he mistook for the taper waist of Grace, when the loud laugh of the old man and his "helps," who had now risen, roused him. He got up and looked round him, but, with the Spartan firmness of his name-sake, said nothing, but went right off and married his cousin Prudence Prague, who could do all the sparking talk herself.
Many another lover since then had Grace—many a mathematical schoolmaster, to whom Euclid was no longer a mystery, became, for her sake, puzzled in the problem of love, and earnestly besought her to solve the question he gave, with the simple statement of yes. But still her heart was adamant, and still she was unwon, and sighed more deeply for her island home. She disliked the country, and its customs more. Her religion was Roman catholic, and she cherished all the tenets of her faith with the deepest devotion. I remember calling on her one Sunday morning and finding her alone in her solitary dwelling; her relations, themselves catholics, having gone, and half the settlement with them, to meeting, but she preferred her solitude rather than join in their unconsecrated worship. This want of their own peculiar means of grace is much felt by religiously inclined persons in the forest settlements, and this made her wish more earnestly for the closingof the year to come, when, with the produce of her school labours, she would be enabled to leave.
Such was, up to this period, what I knew of Grace's character and history. I was extremely fond of her society and conversation, as she, coming from that land of which 'tis said, her every word, her wildest thought, is poetry, had, in her imaginings, a twilight tinge of blue, which made her remarks truly delightful. She had become a little more softened in her prejudice, especially as she expected soon to leave the country, so that one day during her stay with us, in this same bright summer weather, I induced her to accompany me to a great baptist meeting, to be held in a river settlement some four or five miles off. On reaching the creek, the rest of our party, who had acquired the true American antipathy to pedestrianism, proceeded in canoes and punts to the place, but we preferred a walk to the dazzling glare of the sunshine on the water, so took not the highway, but a path through the forest, called the blazed track, from a chip or slice being made on the trees to indicate its line, and which you must keep sight of, or else go astray in the leafy labyrinth.
When I first trod the woods of New Brunswick, I fancied wild animals would meet me at each step—every black log was transformed into some shaggy monster—visions of bears and lucifee's were ever before me—but these are now but rarely seen near the settlements, although bruin will sometimes make a descent on the sheepfolds; yet they have generally retreated before the axe, along with the more valuable moose deer and caraboo, with which the country used to abound. The ugliest animal I ever saw was a huge porcupine, which came close to the door and carried off, one by one, a whole flock of young turkies; and the boldest, the beautiful foxes, which are also extremely destructive to the poultry; so that in walking the woods one need not be afraid, even if a bear's foot-print be indented in the soil, as perhaps he is then far enough off, and besides 'tis only in the hungry spring, after his winter's sleep, he is carniverous, preferring in summer the roots, nuts, and berries with which the forest supplies him. The living things one sees are quite harmless—the bright eyed racoon looking down upon us through the branches, or the squirrels hopping from spray to spray, a mink or an otter splashing through the pond of a deserted beaver dam, from which the ancient possessors have also retired, and a hare or sable gliding in the distance, are all the animals one usually sees, with flocks of partridges, so tame that they stir not from you, and there being no game laws, these free denizens of the wild are the property of all who choose to claim them.
The forests, especially in the hard wood districts, are beautiful in their fresh unbroken solitude—not the solitude of desolation, but the young wild loveliness of the untamed earth. The trees stand close and thick, with straight pillar-like stems, unbroken by leaf or bough, which all expand to the summit, as if for breathing space. There is little brush wood, but myriads of plants and creepers, springing with the summer's breath. The beautiful dog-wood's sweeping sprays and broad leaves, the maiden-hairs glossy wreathes and pearly buds, and the soft emerald moss, clothing the old fallen trees with its velvet tapestry, and hiding their decay with its cool rich beauty, while the sun light falls in golden tracery down the birch trees silver trunk, and the sparkling water flashes in the rays, or sings on its sweet melody unseen amid the luxuriant vegetation that conceals it.
Through this sweet path we held on our way, talking of every bard who has said or sung the green wood's glories, whose fancied beauties were here all realized. As we neared the clearings, we met frequent groups of blue nose children gathering, with botanical skill, herbs for dyeing, or carrying sheets of birch bark, which, to be fit for its many uses, must be peeled from the trees in the full moon of June. On these children, beautiful as young Greeks, with lustrous eyes and faultless features, Grace said she could hardly yet look without an instinctive feeling of awe and pity, cherishing as she did the partiality of her creed and nation for infant baptism. To her there was something awful, in sight of those unhallowed creatures, whose brows bore not the first symbol of christianity. We having passed through the woods, were soon in a large assemblage of native and adopted colonists.
The greater number of the native population, I think, are baptists, and their ministers are either raised among themselves, or come from the United States; or Nova Scotia. Once in every year a general association is convened of the members of the society throughout the province, the attendance on which gives ample proof of the greatness of their numbers, as well as their fervency of feeling. This association is held in a differentpart of the province each season—and generally lasts a week. Reports are here made of the progress of their religion, the state of funds, and of all other matters connected with the society. There is, generally, at these conventions a revival of religious feeling, and during the last days numerous converts are made and received by baptism into the church. This meeting is looked forward too by the colonists with many mingled feelings. By the grave and good it is hailed as an event of sacred importance, and by the gay and thoughtless as a season of sight-seeing and dress-displaying. Those in whose neighbourhood it was last year are glad it is not be so this time; and those near the place it is to be held, are calculating the sheep and poultry, the molasses and flour it will take to supply the numerous guests they expect on the occasion—open tables being kept at taverns, and private houses are so no longer, but hospitably receive all who come. No harvest is reaped by exorbitant charges for lodging, and all that is expected in return, is the same clever treatment when their turn comes. This convocation, occurring in the leisure spell between the end of planting and the commencement of haying, is consequently no hindrance to the agricultural part of the community; and old and young "off they come" from Miramichi, from Acadia, and the Oromocto, in shay and waggon, steam-boat and catamaran, on horseback or on foot, as best they can. This day, one towards the conclusion, the large frame building was crowded to excess, and outside were gathered groups, as may be seen in some countries around the catholic chapels. Within, the long tiers of benches display as fair an array of fashion and flowers as would be seen in any similar congregation in any country. The days of going to meeting in home-spun and raw hide moccasins are vanishing fast all through the province. These are the solid constituents of every-day apparel, but for holidays, even the bush maiden from the far-off settlements of the gulph shore has a lace veil and silken shawl, and these she arranges with infinitely more taste and grace than many a damsel whose eye has never lost sight of the clearings. By far the greater portion of the assembly have the dark eyes and intellectual expression of face which declares them of American origin; and, sprinkled among them, are the features which tell of England's born. The son of Scotland, too, is here, although unwont to grace such gatherings with his presence; yet this is an event of rare importance, and from its occurrence in his immediate neighbourhood, he has come, we dare not say to scoff, and yet about his expressive mouth their lingers a slight curl of something like it. And here, too, the Hibernian forgets his prejudices in the delight of being in a crowd. I do not class my friend Grace along with this common herd, but even she became as deeply interested as others in the discussion which was now going forward—this was the time of transacting business, and the present subject one which had occupied much attention. It was the appropriation of certain funds—whether they should be applied towards increasing their seminary, so as to fit it for the proper education of ministers for their church, or whether they should not be applied to some other purpose, and their priesthood be still allowed to spring uncultured from the mass. The different opinions expressed regarding this, finely developed the progress of mind throughout the land. Some white-headed fathers of the sect, old refugees, who had left the bounds of civilization before they had received any education, yet who had been gifted in the primitive days of the colony to lead souls from sin, sternly declaimed against the education system, declaring that grace, and grace alone, was what formed the teacher. All else was of the earth earthy, and had nought to do with heavenly things. One said that when he commenced preaching he could not read the bible—he could do little more now, and yet throughout the country many a soul owned its sickness to have been healed through him. Another then rose and answered him—a native of the province, and of his own persuasion, but who had drank from the springing fountains of science and of holiness—the bright gushing of whose clear streams sparkled through his discourse. I have since forgotten his language, but I know that at the time nothing I had ever heard or read entranced me as did it, glowing as it was with the new world's fervency of thought, and the old world's wealth of learning. He pleaded, as such should, for extended education, and his mighty words had power, and won the day. The old men, stern in their prejudices as their zeal, were conquered, and the baptists have now well conducted establishments of learning throughout the province.
This discussion occupied the morning, and, at noon, we were invited home to dinner by a person who sat next us at the meeting, but whom we had never before seen. Some twelve or fourteen others formed our party, rather a small one considering, but we were the second relay, another party having already dined and proceeded to the meeting house, where religious worship had commenced as soon as we left. Our meal was not so varied in its details of cookery as the wealthier blue noses love to treat their guests with. The number to be supplied, and the quantity of provisions required, prevented this. It consisted of large joints of veal and mutton, baked and boiled, with a stately pot-pie, on its ponderous platter,—the standing dish in all these parts. Soon after dinner we were given to understand the dipping was about to commence; and walked along the shore to the place appointed for the purpose, in the bright blue waters of the bay, which is here formed by an inlet of the chief river of the province, the silver-rolling St. John. The scene around us was wondrously rich and lovely—the bright green intervale meadows with their lofty trees, the cloudless sky, the flashing waters, and the balmy breeze, which bore the breath of the far-off spruce and cedars. From the assembled throng, who had now left the meeting-house, arose the hymns which form the principal part of their worship.
I have said the New Brunswickers are not, as yet, greatly favoured with the gift of music; this may, in a great measure, arise from deficient cultivation of the science, but at this time there was something strange and pleasant in the quick chaunting strain they raised, so different from the solemn sounds of sacred melody usual in other countries; and even Grace, accustomed to the organ's pealing grandeur and lofty anthems of her own church, was pleased with it. Still singing the minister entered the water, the converts one by one joining him, and singly became encircled in the shining waves: many of them were aged and bowed with time, and now took up the cross in their declining days; and others of the young and fair, who sought their creator in youth. It was wondrous now to think of this once lonely stream of the western world, the Indian's own Ounagandy. A few years since no voice had broke on its solitude save the red man's war-whoop, or his shrieking death song—no form been shadowed on its depths but the wild bird's wing, or the savage speeding on the blood chase. Now its living pictures told the holy records of the blessed east, and its waters typed the healing stream of Jordan. After some more singing and prayers offered for the newly-baptized, the ceremony was finished. 'Tis strange that on these dipping occasions no cold is caught by the converts. I suppose the excitement of the mind sustains the body; but persons are often baptised in winter, in an opening made through the ice for the purpose, and walk with their garments frozen around them without inconvenience, seeming to prove the efficacy of hydropathy, by declaring how happy and comfortable they feel. We, at the conclusion of the prayers, left the place, and proceeded homewards in a canoe; this is a mode of locomotion much liked by the river settlers, but to a stranger anything but agreeable. They glide along the waters swift and smooth, but a slight cause upsets them, and as perhaps you are not exactly certain about being born to be hanged, you must sit perfectly still—you are warned to dothis, but if you are the least nervous, you will hardly dare to breathe, much less move, and this, in a journey of any length, is not so pleasant. This feeling, however, custom soon dispels; and when one sees little fairy girls paddling themselves and a cargo of brothers and sisters to school, or women with babies taking their wool to the carding mill, they feel ashamed, and learn to keep the true balance.
Our light skiff, or bark rather, as it might be truely styled, being a veritable Indian canoe, made of birch bark most cunningly put together, these being so light as to float in shallow water, and to be easily removed, are for this reason preferred by the Indians to more solid materials, who carry them on their backs from stream to stream during their peregrinations through the country, soon bore us over the diamond water, whose mirrored surface we scarcely stirred, to the landing place, whose marshy precincts were now all gemmed with the golden and purple flowers of the sweet flag or calamus; and as the sun was yet high in the glorious blue, we resolved to spend the remainder of the day with a family living near; feeling, in this land of New Brunswick, no qualms about a sudden visitation, knowing that a people so proverbial for being "wide awake" can never be taken unawares. Their dwelling, a large frame building painted most gaily in the bright warm hues the old Dutch fancies of the states love to cherish, stands in the centre of rich parks of intervale. The porch is here, as well as at the more humble log-house, answering as it does in summer for a cool verandah, and in winter as a shelter from the snows. This, the taste of the country artist has erected on pillars, not recognisable as belonging to any known order of architecture, yet here esteemed as tasty and beautiful, and, as is his custom in the afternoon, is seated the owner of the dwelling, Silas Mavin, one of that fast declining remnant—the refugees. He had come from the United States at the revolution, and possessed himself of this fair heritage in the days when squatting was in vogue; those palmy days which the older inhabitants love to recall, when government had not to be petitioned, as it has now, for leave to purchase land, and when, in place of the now many-worded grant, with its broad seals and official signatures, people made out their own right of possession by raising their log-house, and placing the sign manual of their axe in whatever trees they chose; when moose and caraboo were plentiful as sheep and oxen are now; when salmon filled each stream, and the wood-sheltered clearings ripened the Indian corn without failing.
In this land, young as it is, there are those who mourn for the times gone by, and consider the increasing settlement of the country as their worst evil; wilfully closing their eyes against improvement, they see not the wide fields, waving fair with grass and wheat, but think it was better when the dense forest shut out the breeze and reflected the sunbeams down with greater strength on the corn, so dearly loved by the American. They hear not the sound of the busy mill when they mourn for the fish-deserted brooks, and forget that when moose meat was more plentiful than now bread stuffs were ground in the wearying hand-mill. One of this respectable class of grumblers was our present acquaintance, and here he sat in his porch, with aspect grave as the stoics—his tall form, although in ruins now, was stately in decay as the old forest's pines. His head was such as a phrenologist would have loved to look upon; the true platonic breadth of brow, and lofty elevation of the scalp silvered over, told of a mind fitting in its magnitude to spring from that gigantic continent whose streams are mighty rivers and whose lakes are seas; but, valueless as these, when embosomed in their native woods, were the treasures of the old man's mind, unawakened as they were by education, and unpolished even by contact with the open world, yet still, amid the crust contracted in the life he had led, rays of the inward diamond glittered forth. The wilderness had always been his dwelling—in the land he had left, his early days had been passed in hunting the red deer or the red man on the Prairie fields—there, with the true spirit of the old American, he had learned to treat the Indian as "varment," although a kindlier feeling was awakened towards them in this country, where white as well as red were recipients of England's bounty, and many a tale of wild pathos or dark horror has he told of the experience of his youth with the people of the wild. In New Brunswick his days had passed more peacefully. He sat this evening with his chair poised in that aerial position on one leg which none but an American can attain. Ambitious emigrants, wishing to be thought cute, attempt this delicate point of Yankee character, but their awkwardness falling short of the easy swing necessary for the purpose, often brings them to the ground. A beautiful English cherry tree, with its snowy wreathes in full blow, stood before him; he had raised it from the seed, and loved to look upon it. It had evidently been the object of his meditations, and served him now as a type wherewith to illustrate his remarks respecting the meeting we had attended—like those professors of religion we to-day heard, he said, was his beautiful cherry tree. It gave forth fair green leaves of promise and bright truth-seeming blossoms, but in summer, when he sought for fruit there was none; and false as it, were they of words so fair and deeds so dark, and he'd "double sooner trust one who laughed more and prayed less, than those same whining preachers." This was the old man's opinion, not only respecting the baptists, but all other sects as well. What his own ideas of religion were I never could make out. Universalism I fancied it was, but differing much from the theories of those evanescent preachers who sometimes flashed like meteors through the land, leaving doubt and recklessness in their path. The first truths of Christianity had been imparted to him, and these, mingling with his own innate ideas of veneration, formed his faith; as original, though more lofty in its aspirations, than the wild Indian's who tells of the flowery land of souls where the good spirit dwells, and where buffalo and deer forsake not the hunting grounds of the blessed. He held no outward form or right of sanctity. The ceremony which bound him to his wife was simply legal, having been read over by the nearest magistrate. His children were unbaptised, and the green graves of his household were in his own field, although a public burying-ground was by the meeting-house of the settlement.
Meanwhile the old lady, who had hailed our advent with the hospitality of her country, set about preparing our entertainment. Tradition says of the puritans, the pilgrims of New England, that when they first stood on Plymouth Rock, on their first arrival from Europe, they bore the bible under one arm and a cookery book under the other. Now, as to their descendants, the refugees, I am not exactly sure if, when they pilgrimised to New Brunswick, they were so careful of the bible, but I am certain they retain the precepts of the cookery book, and love to embody them when they may. Soon as a guest comes within ken of a blue nose, the delightful operations commence. The poorer class shifting with Johnny-cake and pumpkin, while, with the better off, the airy phantoms of custard and curls, which flit through their brains, are called into tangible existence. The air is impregnated with allspice and nutmeg—apple "sarce" and cranberry "persarves" become visible, while sal-a-ratus and molasses are evidently in the ascendant.
And now, while our hostess of this evening busied herself in compounding these sweet mysteries, the old man related to us the following love passage of his earlier days, which I shall give in my own language, although his original expressions rendered it infinitely more interesting.