hionists always prefer the artificial to the natural.

One or two species of grass that I have gathered bear a close but of
course minute resemblance to the Indian corn, having a top feather and
eight-sided spike of little grains disposed at the sidejoints. The
_sisyrinchium_, or blue-eyed grass, is a pretty little flower of an
azure blue, with golden spot at the base of each petal; the leaves are
flat, stiff, and flag-like; this pretty flower grows in tufts on light
sandy soils.

I have given you a description of the flowers most worthy of attention;
and, though it is very probable some of my descriptions may not be
exactly in the technical language of the correct botanist, I have at
least described them as they appear.

My dear boy seems already to have a taste for flowers, which I shall
encourage as much as possible. It is a study that tends to refine and
purify the mind, and can be made, by simple steps, a ladder to heaven,
as it were, by teaching a child to look with love and admiration to that
bountiful God who created and made flowers so fair to adorn and fructify
this earth.

Farewell, my dear sister.

LETTER XV.

Recapitulation of various Topics.--Progress of Settlement.--Canada, the
Land of Hope.--Visit to the Family of a Naval Officer.--Squirrels.--
Visit to, and Story of, an Emigrant Clergyman.--His early Difficulties.
--The Temper, Disposition, and Habits of Emigrants essential Ingredients
in Failure or Success.

September the 20th, 1834.

I PROMISED when I parted from you before I left England to write as soon
as I could give you any satisfactory account of our settlement in this
country. I shall do my best to redeem that promise, and forward you a
slight sketch of our proceedings, with such remarks on the natural
features of the place in which we have fixed our abode, as I think
likely to afford you interest or amusement. Prepare your patience, then,
my dear friend, for a long and rambling epistle, in which I may possibly
prove somewhat of a Will-o'-the-wisp, and having made you follow me in
my desultory wanderings,--

Over hill, over dale,
Through bush, through briar,
Over park, over pale,
Through flood, through fire,--

Possibly leave you in the midst of a big cedar swamp, or among the
pathless mazes of our wild woods, without a clue to guide you, or even a
_blaze_ to light you on your way.

You will have heard, through my letters to my dear mother, of our safe
arrival at Qu