before we could decide on the most eligible site. After spending the greater part of the day in approving and disapproving of particular lots, we unanimously determined on making the second lot, in the sixth concession, the future asylum of our exiled family. When we had agreed on this point, our next consideration was, to procure shelter for the night; for we were upwards of nine miles from the abodes of civilized beings, and in the midst of desolate wilds,

Where beasts with men divided empire claim,

And the brown Indian marks with murd'rous aim.

After walking about for some time, in quest of a suitable place for making a fire, we discovered an old Indian wig-wam, deserted by its inhabitants. In this little hut we resolved to continue during the night; and, having a tinder-box, with all the other necessary materials, we speedily lighted an excellent fire. After we had taken supper on the trunk of a tree, we lay down to rest, each rolling himself up in a blanket, and each in his turn supplying fuel to the fire. Thus did we pass the first night on our American estate. In the morning, about sun-rise, we were suddenly awakened by the howling of a pack of wolves, which were in full cry after an unfortunate deer. The howl of these ferocious animals so nearly resembles the cry of fox-dogs, that, when I awoke and heard it, I fancied myself in the midst of the sporting woods of Erin. But the delusion was not of long

continuance; for I speedily discovered, that, instead

of being in my native land,

Where the tints of the earth and the hues of the sky,

In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,

I was in the midst of a dreary and unvaried wilderness,

Where crouching wolves await their hapless prey,
And savage men, more murd'rous still than they.

To increase our consternation, or, at least, to direct it into another channel, the horses, which we brought with us to carry our bed-clothes and provisions, had broken from their tethers during the night and consumed every ounce of our bread.

Calm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms,

Except when fast-approaching danger warns ;

and yet I was on this occasion sufficiently provoked, to revenge our loss on the sides of the illnatured brutes. We had brought our provender, with the utmost difficulty, a distance of nearly twelve miles through woods and swamps: And then, to be deprived of it in this way, was too much for a man of my philosophy to bear without impatience! We should have been under the disagreeable necessity of dispensing with a breakfast, if we had not had the consideration to bring some potatoes with us, which, happily for us, are not so well-suited to the appetite of an American horse, as they are to the palate of an Irishman :

For, if this had been the case, we should have been compelled to stay our hunger, till provisions could arrive from Westminster.

We continued encamped in the woods from the 26th of October, until the 1st of December. During this period, we laid the foundation of a house, forty-six feet long, and twenty-one feet wide; one half of which we finished first, for the accommodation of the family, who removed into it on the 2d of December,-five months and nineteen days. after our embarkation for America. During the thirty-five days which we spent in the woods previous to the arrival of the family, our only lodging was the miserable wig-wam, which, like ancient Argos, had an hundred eyes, or rather eye-holes, through which, when lying awake at night, we could easily note every remarkable star that passed the meridian. Our only bed, all that time, was composed of a few withered leaves, while

A log contriv'd a double debt to pay,

By night a pillow, and a seat by day.

These are only slight specimens of the hardships, which must be encountered by those who settle in a wilderness; and yet, no small degree of fortitude is requisite, to support the mind of him who is obliged to submit to them. It is a grievance of no inconsiderable magnitude, to be compelled, after a day of severe labour, to stretch one's weary limbs on the bare ground in the cold month of November, and to be protected from "the fierce North

wind with his airy forces," and from the chilling frost, only by a miserable hut, with a fire sufficiently near it to counteract in some degree their benumbing effects. But the hope of independence is sufficient to sustain the mind under privations still greater than these; and he,-who can bring himself to think, when lying down to rest on the bare earth, that the day is not far distant when he may happily repose on a more inviting couch, without one anxious thought respecting the future prospects of himself and his family,regards these transient sufferings with a kind of feeling nearly allied to actual pleasure. He sees the time fast approaching, when the wilderness to him shall be "a fruitful field, and the desert shall blossom as the rose ;"-when the productive soil shall gratefully yield an ample reward to his toils;—and when the hardships of his situation shall, by the blessing of heaven on his exertions, gradually disappear, and leave him in possession of health, plenty, and independence. While indulging in such joyful and ecstatic visions, the wooden pillow of a new and industrious settler becomes softer than bolsters of down, and his solitary blanket feels more comfortable than sheets of Holland.

LETTER VII.

VILLAGE OF DUNDAS ANCASTER - GREAT WESTERN ROAD TALBOT-STREET SITUATION OF THE TALBOT SETTLEMENT NIAGARA, OR FORT GEORGE, TAKEN BY. THE AMERICANSRETALIATION OF THE BRITISH-FALLS OF NIAGARA-SUPPOSED TO BE ONCE AT QUEEN'STOWN-ANECDOTE OF AN INDIAN AND OF TWO WHITE MEN-NOISE OF THE FALLS-CHIPPAWA-LAKE ERIE, LONG POINT, AND TURKEY POINT -THE BONDEAU AMERSBURG SANDWICH-LAKES ST. CLAIR, MICHIGAN, HURON, SUPERIOR, AND LAKE OF THE WOODS.

THE traveller by land from York to Amersburgh, -which is the most Westerly town in the Upper Province, and which is distant from York about 326 miles, meets with few villages, and those few very inconsiderable in size. DUNDAS, fifty miles from York; ANCASTER, three miles from Dundas; and BURFORD, twenty-eight miles from Ancaster, are the only places, which, from the multitude of their inhabitants, bear the least resemblance to villages; and the whole population of the three together does not exceed 600 souls. The road, which nearly all the way preserves a South Western direction, lies through the richest and most fertile country in British North America. Thirty years ago, there was not a single human habitation