sposed."

Ever since the commencement of this early geographical controversy, men
have been labouring with more or less energy and success to ascertain
the form and character of the earth; a grand, glorious labour it has
been; resulting in blessings innumerable to mankind--blessings both
spiritual and temporal.

We have heard some people object to geographical discovery, especially
in the inclement parts of the earth, on the ground that it could be of
no use, and involved great risk to life and limb. "Of no use!" Who can
tell what discoveries shall be useful and what useless? "The works of
God are great, sought out of all those that have pleasure therein,"
saith the Scripture. There is no reference here to usefulness, but the
searching out of God's works, without limitation, is authorised; and
those who "take pleasure therein," will be content to leave the result
of their labours in the hands of Him who sent them forth. As to
"risk,"--why, a carpenter cannot ascend to the top of a house to put the
rafters thereon without risk; a chemist cannot investigate the
properties of certain fumes without risk; you cannot even eat your
dinner without risk. Only this are we sure of--that, if man had never
undertaken labour except when such was _obviously_ useful and devoid of
risk, the world would still be in the darkness of the Middle Ages.

Reuben Guff held these sentiments, or something like them; and Reuben
was a man who had seen a great deal of life in his day, although at the
time we introduce him to public notice he had not lived more than
six-and-thirty summers. He was a bronzed, stalwart Canadian. His
father had been Scotch, his mother of French extraction; and Reuben
possessed the dogged resolution of the Scot with the vivacity of the
Frenchman. In regard to his tastes and occupation we shall let him
speak for himself.

Sitting under a pine-tree, in the wild wilderness that lies to the north
of Canada with the drumstick of a goose in one hand and a scalping-knife
in the other; with a log-fire in front of him, and his son, a stripling
of sixteen, by his side, he delivered himself of the following
sentiments:--

"I tell 'ee what it is, Lawrence," (the lad was named after the great
river on the banks of which he had been reared), "I was born to be a
pioneer. Ever since I was the height of a three-fut rule I've had a
skunner at the settlements and a love for the wilderness that I couldn't
overcome nohow. More