he well-dressed population of the
improved districts of the Upper Province, she had not formed the
slightest conception. To her fancy, it was a vast region of cheerless
forests, inhabited by unreclaimed savages, or rude settlers doomed to
perpetual toil,--a climate of stern vicissitudes, alternating between
intense heat and freezing cold, and which presented at all seasons a
gloomy picture. No land of Goshen, no paradise of fruits and flowers,
rose in the distance to console her for the sacrifice she was about to
make. The ideal was far worse than the reality.

Guided by these false impressions, she made choice of articles of dress
too good for domestic drudgery, and not fine enough to suit the rank to
which she belonged. In this case, extremes would have suited her better
than a middle course.

Though fine clothes in the Backwoods may be regarded as useless lumber,
and warm stuffs for winter, and good washing calicoes for summer, are
more to be prized than silks and satins, which a few days' exposure to
the rough flooring of a log-cabin would effectually destroy; yet it is
absolutely necessary to be well dressed when visiting the large towns,
where the wealthier classes not only dress well, but expensively.

In a country destitute of an hereditary aristocracy, and where the
poorest emigrant, by industry and prudence, may rise to wealth and
political importance, the appearance which individuals make, and the
style in which they live, determine their claims to superiority with the
public, chiefly composed of the same elements with themselves. The
aristocracy of England may be divided into three distinct classes,--that
of family, of wealth, and of talent,--all powerful in their order. The
one which ranks the last should hold its place with the first, for it
originally produced it; and the second, which is far inferior to the
last, is likewise able to buy the first. The heads of old families are
more tolerant to the great men of genius than they are to the
accumulators of riches; and a wide distinction is made by them between
the purse-proud millionaire and the poor man of genius, whose refined
tastes and feelings are more in unison with their own.

In Canada, the man of wealth has it all his own way; his dollars are
irresistible, and the money makes the man. Fine clothes are there
supposed to express the wealth of the possessor; and a lady's gown
determines her right to the title, which, after all, presents the lowest