<h3 class="chap">CHAPTER XIX<br/> Conclusion</h3>
<div class="verse">
<p class="line">"Why dost thou fear to speak the honest truth?</p>
<p class="line">Speak boldly, fearlessly, what thou think'st right,</p>
<p class="line">And time shall justify thy words and thee!"</p>
<p class="initials">S.M.</p>
</div>
<p>We left Niagara at noon. A very pleasant drive brought us to Queenstone,
and we stepped on board the "Chief Justice" steamboat, that had just
touched the wharf, and was on her return trip to Toronto.</p>
<p>Tired and ill, I was glad to lie down in one of the berths in the
ladies' cabin to rest, and, if possible, to obtain a little sleep.
This I soon found was out of the question. Two or three noisy, spoiled
children kept up a constant din; and their grandmother, a very
nice-looking old lady, who seemed nurse-general to them all, endeavoured
in vain to keep them quiet. Their mother was reading a novel, and took
it very easy; reclining on a comfortable sofa, she left her old mother
all the fatigue of taking care of the children, and waiting upon
herself.</p>
<p>This is by no means an uncommon trait of Canadian character. In families
belonging more especially to the middle class, who have raised
themselves from a lower to a higher grade, the mother, if left in poor
circumstances, almost invariably holds a subordinate position in her
wealthier son or daughter's family. She superintends the servants, and
nurses the younger children; and her time is occupied by a number of
minute domestic labours, that allow her very little rest in her old age.</p>
<p>I have seen the grandmother in a wealthy family ironing the fine linen,
or broiling over the cook-stove, while her daughter held her place in
the drawing-room. How differently in my own country are these things
ordered! where the most tender attention is paid to the aged, all their
wants studied, and their comfort regarded as a sacred thing.</p>
<p>Age in Canada is seldom honoured. You would imagine it almost a crime
for any one to grow old--with such slighting, cold indifference are the
aged treated by the young and strong. It is not unusual to hear a lad
speak of his father, perhaps, in the prime of life, as the "old fellow,"
the "old boy," and to address a grey-haired man in this disrespectful
and familiar manner. This may not be apparent to the natives themselves,
but it never fails to strike every stranger that visits the colony.</p>
<p>To be a servant is a lot sufficiently hard--to have all your actions
dictated to you by the will of another--to enjoy no rest or recreation,
but such as is granted as a very great favour; but to be a humble
dependent in old age on children, to whom all the best years of your
life were devoted with all the energy of maternal love, must be sad
indeed. But they submit with great apparent cheerfulness, and seem to
think it necessary to work for the shelter of a child's roof, and the
bread they eat.</p>
<p>The improved circumstances of families, whose parents, in the first
settlement of the country, had to work very hard for their general
maintenance, may be the cause of this inversion of moral duties, and
the parents not being considered properly on an equality with their
better dressed and better educated offspring; but from whatever cause
it springs, the effect it produces on the mind of a stranger is very
painful. It is difficult to feel much respect for any one who looks down
upon father or mother as an inferior being, and, as such, considers them
better qualified to perform the coarse drudgeries of life. Time, we
hope, will remedy this evil, with many others of the same class.</p>
<p>There was a bride, too, on board--a very delicate looking young woman,
who was returning from a tour in the States to her native village. She
seemed very much to dread the ordeal she had yet to pass through--in
sitting dressed up for a whole week to receive visitors. Nor did I in
the least wonder at her repugnance to go through this trying piece of
ceremonial, which is absolutely indispensable in Canada.</p>
<p>The Monday after the bride and bridegroom make their first appearance at
church, every person in the same class prepares to pay them a visit of
congratulation; and if the town is large, and the parties well known,
the making of visits to the bride lasts to the end of the week.</p>
<p>The bride, who is often a young girl from sixteen to twenty years of
age, is doomed for this period to sit upon a sofa or reclined in an easy
chair, dressed in the most expensive manner, to receive her guests.</p>
<p>Well she knows that herself, her dress, the furniture of her room, even
her cake and wine, will undergo the most minute scrutiny, and be the
theme of conversation among all the gossips of the place for the next
nine days. No wonder that she feels nervous, and that her manners are
constrained, and that nothing looks easy or natural about her, from her
neck-ribbon to her shoe-tie.</p>
<p>"Have you seen the bride yet? What do you think of her? How was she
dressed? Is she tall, or short? Pretty, or plain? Stupid, or clever?
Lively, or quiet?" are all questions certain to be asked, and answered
according to the taste and judgment of the parties to whom they are
put; besides those thousand little interludes which spring from envy,
ill-nature, and all uncharitableness. The week following they, in
courtesy, must return all these visits; and, oh, what a relief it must
be when all this stiff complimentary nonsense is over, and they are
once more at home to themselves and their own particular friends!</p>
<p>There is another custom, peculiar to Canada and the United States, which
I cordially approve, and should be very much grieved for its
discontinuance.</p>
<p>On New-Year's day all the gentlemen in the place call upon their
friends, to wish them a happy new year, and to exchange friendly
greetings with the ladies of the family, who are always in readiness
to receive them, and make them a return for these marks of neighbourly
regard, in the substantial form of rich cakes, fruit, wine, coffee, and
tea. It is generally a happy, cheerful day; all faces wear a smile, old
quarrels are forgotten, and every one seems anxious to let ill-will and
heart-burnings die with the old year.</p>
<p>A gentleman who wishes to drop an inconvenient acquaintance, has only to
omit calling upon his friend's wife and daughters on New-Year's day,
without making a suitable apology for the omission of this usual act of
courtesy, and the hint is acknowledged by a direct cut the next time the
parties meet in public.</p>
<p>It is an especial frolic for all the lads who have just returned
from school or college to enjoy their Christmas holidays. Cakes and
sweetmeats are showered upon them in abundance, and they feel themselves
of vast importance, while paying their compliments to the ladies, and
running from house to house, with their brief congratulatory address--"I
wish you all a happy New Year!"</p>
<p>It would be a thousand pities if this affectionate, time-honoured,
hospitable custom, should be swept away by the march of modern
improvement. Some ladies complain that it gives a number of vulgar,
underbred men the opportunity of introducing themselves to the notice
and company of their daughters. There may be some reasonable truth
in this remark; but after all it is but for one day, and the kindly
greetings exchanged are more productive of good than evil.</p>
<p>The evening of New-Year's day is generally devoted to dancing parties,
when the young especially meet to enjoy themselves.</p>
<p>The Wesleyan Methodists always "pray the old year out and the new year
in," as it is termed here, and they could not celebrate its advent in a
more rational and improving manner. Their midnight anthem of praise is a
sacred and beautiful offering to Him, whose vast existence is not meted
out like ours, and measured by days and years.</p>
<p>Large parties given to very young children, which are so common in this
country, are very pernicious in the way in which they generally operate
upon youthful minds. They foster the passions of vanity and envy, and
produce a love of dress and display which is very repulsive in the
character of a child. Little girls who are in the constant habit of
attending these parties, soon exchange the natural manners and frank
simplicity so delightful at their age, for the confidence and flippancy
of women long hacked in the ways of the world.</p>
<p>For some time after I settled in the town, I was not myself aware that
any evil could exist in a harmless party of children playing together
at the house of a mutual friend. But observation has convinced me that
I was in error; that these parties operate like a forcing bed upon
young plants, with this difference, that they bring to maturity the
seeds of <i>evil</i>, instead of those of goodness and virtue, and that a
child accustomed to the heated atmosphere of pleasure, is not likely in
maturer years to enjoy the pure air and domestic avocations of home.</p>
<p>These juvenile parties appear to do less mischief to boys than to girls.
They help to humanize the one, and to make heartless coquets of the
other. The boys meet for a down-right romping play with each other; the
girls to be caressed and admired, to show off their fine dresses, and
to gossip about the dress and appearance of their neighbours.</p>
<p>I know that I shall be called hard-hearted for this assertion; but it is
true. I have frequently witnessed what I relate, both at my own house
and the houses of others; and those who will take the pains to listen
to the conversation of these miniature women, will soon yield a willing
assent to my observations, and keep their little ones apart from such
scenes, in the pure atmosphere of home. The garden or the green field
is the best place for children, who can always derive entertainment
and instruction from nature and her beautiful works. Left to their own
choice, the gay party would be a <i>bore</i>, far less entertaining than a game
of blind-man's buff in the school-room, when lessons were over. It is
the vanity of parents that fosters the same spirit in their children.</p>
<p>The careless, disrespectful manner often used in this country by
children to their parents, is an evil which in all probability
originates in this early introduction of young people into the mysteries
of society. They imagine themselves persons of consequence, and that
their opinion is quite equal in weight to the experience and superior
knowledge of their elders. We cannot imagine a more revolting sight than
a young lad presuming to treat his father with disrespect and contempt,
and daring presumptuously to contradict him before ignorant idlers like
himself.</p>
<p>"You are wrong, Sir; it is not so"--"Mamma, that is not true; I know
better," are expressions which I have heard with painful surprise from
young people in this country; and the parents have sunk into silence,
evidently abashed at the reproof of an insolent child.</p>
<p>These remarks are made with no ill-will, but with a sincere hope that
they may prove beneficial to the community at large, and be the means of
removing some of the evils which are to be found in our otherwise
pleasant and rapidly-improving society.</p>
<p>I know that it would be easier for me to gain the approbation of the
Canadian public, by exaggerating the advantages to be derived from a
settlement in the colony, by praising all the good qualities of her
people, and by throwing a flattering veil over their defects; but this
is not my object, and such servile adulation would do them no good, and
degrade me in my own eyes. I have written what I consider to be the
truth, and as such I hope it may do good, by preparing the minds of
emigrants for what they will <i>really find</i>, rather than by holding
out fallacious hopes that can never be realized.</p>
<p>In "Roughing it in the Bush," I gave an honest personal statement of
<i>facts</i>. I related nothing but what had really happened; and if
illustrations were wanting of persons who had suffered <i>as much</i>, and been
reduced to the same straits, I could furnish a dozen volumes without
having to travel many hundred miles for subjects.</p>
<p>We worked hard and struggled manfully with overwhelming difficulties,
yet I have been abused most unjustly by the Canadian papers for
revealing some of the mysteries of the Backwoods. Not one word was said
<i>against the country</i> in my book, as was falsely asserted. It was
written as a warning to well-educated persons not to settle in
localities for which they were unfitted by their <i>previous habits and
education</i>. In this I hoped to confer a service both on them and
Canada; for the <i>prosperous</i> settlement of such persons on cleared
farms must prove more beneficial to the colony than their <i>ruin in the
bush</i>.</p>
<p>It was likewise very cruelly and falsely asserted, that I had spoken ill
of the <i>Irish people</i>, because I described the revolting scene we
witnessed at Grosse Isle, the actors in which were principally Irish
emigrants of the <i>very lowest class</i>. Had I been able to give the whole
details of what we saw on that island, the terms applied to the people
who furnished such disgusting pictures would have been echoed by their
own countrymen. This was one of those cases in which it was <i>impossible</i>
to reveal the <i>whole truth</i>.</p>
<p>The few Irish characters that occur in my narrative have been drawn with
an <i>affectionate</i>, not a malignant hand. We had very few Irish settlers
round us in the bush, and to them I never owed the least obligation. The
contrary of this has been asserted, and I am accused of <i>ingratitude</i> by
one editor for benefits I never received, and which I was too proud to
ask, always preferring to work with my own hands, rather than to <i>borrow</i>
or <i>beg</i> from others. All the kind acts of courtesy I received from the
<i>poor Indians</i> this gentleman thought fit to turn over to the Irish, in
order to hold me up as a monster of ingratitude to his countrymen.</p>
<p>In the case of Jenny Buchannon and John Monaghan, <i>the only two Irish
people</i> with whom I had anything to do, the benefits were surely mutual.
Monaghan came to us a runaway apprentice,--not, by-the-bye, the best
recommendation for a servant. We received him starving and ragged, paid
him good wages, and treated him with great kindness. The boy turned
out a grateful and attached creature, which cannot possible confer the
opposite character upon us.</p>
<p><i>Jenny's love and affection</i> will sufficiently prove <i>our ingratitude</i>
to <i>her</i>. To the good qualities of these people I have done ample justice.
In what, then, does my ingratitude to the <i>Irish people</i> consist? I should
feel much obliged to the writer in the <i>London Observer</i> to enlighten me
on this head, or those editors of Canadian papers, who, without reading
for themselves, servilely copied a <i>falsehood</i>.</p>
<p>It is easy to pervert people's words, and the facts they may represent,
to their injury; and what I have said on the subject of education may
give a handle to persons who delight in misrepresenting the opinions of
others, to accuse me of republican principles; I will, therefore, say a
few words on this subject, which I trust will exonerate me from this
imputation.</p>
<p>That all men, morally speaking, are equal in the eyes of their Maker,
appears to me a self-evident fact, though some may be called by His
providence to rule, and others to serve. That the welfare of the most
humble should be as dear to the country to which he belongs as the best
educated and the most wealthy, seems but reasonable to a reflective
mind, who looks upon man as a responsible and immortal creature; but,
that <i>perfect equality</i> can exist in a world where the labour of man is
required to procure the common necessaries of life--where the industry
of one will create wealth, and the sloth of another induce poverty--we
cannot believe.</p>
<p>Some master spirit will rule, and the masses will bow down to superior
intellect, and the wealth and importance which such minds never fail to
acquire. The laws must be enforced, and those to whom the charge of them
is committed will naturally exercise authority, and demand respect.</p>
<p>Perfect equality never did exist upon earth. The old republics were more
despotic and exclusive in their separation of the different grades than
modern monarchies; and in the most enlightened, that of Greece, the
plague spot of slavery was found. The giant republic, whose rising
greatness throws into shade the once august names of Greece and Rome,
suffers this heart-corroding leprosy to cleave to her vitals, and sully
her fair fame, making her boasted vaunt of <i>equality</i> a base lie--the
scorn of all Christian men.</p>
<p>They thrust the enfranchised African from their public tables--born
beneath their own skies, a native of their own soil, a free citizen by
their own Declaration of Independence; yet exclaim, in the face of this
<i>black</i> injustice--"Our people enjoy equal rights." Alas! for Columbia's
<i>sable sons!</i> Where is their equality? On what footing do they stand with
their white brethren? What value do they place upon the negro beyond his
price in dollars and cents? Yet is he equal in the sight of Him who gave
him a rational soul, and afforded him the means of attaining eternal
life.</p>
<p>We are advocates for <i>equality of mind</i>--for a commonwealth of intellect;
we earnestly hope for it, ardently pray for it, and we feel a confident
belief in the possibility of our theory. We look forward to the day
when honest labour will be made honourable; when he who serves, and he
who commands, will rejoice in this freedom of soul together; when both
master and servant will enjoy a reciprocal communion of mind, without
lessening the respect due from the one to the other.</p>
<p>But equality of station is a dream--an error which is hourly
contradicted by reality. As the world is at present constituted, such a
state of things is impossible. The rich and the educated will never look
upon the poor and ignorant as their equals; and the voice of the public,
that is ever influenced by wealth and power, will bear them out in their
decision.</p>
<p>The country is not yet in existence that can present us a better
government and wiser institutions than the British. Long may Canada
recognise her rule, and rejoice in her sway! Should she ever be so
unwise as to relinquish the privileges she enjoys under the sovereignty
of the mother country, she may seek protection <i>nearer</i> and <i>fare worse!</i>
The sorrows and trials that I experienced during my first eight years'
residence in Canada, have been more than counterbalanced by the
remaining twelve of comfort and peace. I have long felt the deepest
interest in her prosperity and improvement. I no longer regard myself as
an alien on her shores, but her daughter by adoption,--the happy mother
of Canadian children,--rejoicing in the warmth and hospitality of a
Canadian Home!</p>
<p>May the blessing of God rest upon the land! and her people ever prosper
under a religious, liberal, and free government!</p>
<div class="verse">
<h4>For London.</h4>
<h4>A National Song.</h4>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="line">"For London! for London! how oft has that cry</p>
<p class="line">From the blue waves of ocean been wafted on high,</p>
<p class="line">When the tar through the grey mist that mantled the tide,</p>
<p class="line">The white cliffs of England with rapture descried,</p>
<p class="line">And the sight of his country awoke in his heart</p>
<p class="line">Emotions no object save home can impart!</p>
<p class="line">For London! for London! the home of the free,</p>
<p class="line">There's no part in the world, royal London, like thee!</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="line">"Old London! what ages have glided away,</p>
<p class="line">Since cradled in rushes thy infancy lay!</p>
<p class="line">In thy rude huts of timber the proud wings lay furl'd</p>
<p class="line">Of a spirit whose power now o'ershadows the world,</p>
<p class="line">And the brave chiefs who built and defended those towers,</p>
<p class="line">Were the sires of this glorious old city of ours.</p>
<p class="line">For London! for London! the home of the free,</p>
<p class="line">There's no city on earth, royal London, like thee!</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="line">"The Roman, the Saxon, the Norman, the Dane,</p>
<p class="line">Have in turn sway'd thy sceptre, thou queen of the main!</p>
<p class="line">Their spirits though diverse, uniting made one,</p>
<p class="line">Of nations the noblest beneath yon bright sun;</p>
<p class="line">With the genius of each, and the courage of all,</p>
<p class="line">No foeman dare plant hostile flag on thy wall.</p>
<p class="line">For London! for London! the home of the free,</p>
<p class="line">There's no city on earth, royal London, like thee!</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="line">"Old Thames rolls his waters in pride at thy feet,</p>
<p class="line">And wafts to earth's confines thy riches and fleet;</p>
<p class="line">Thy temples and towers, like a crown on the wave,</p>
<p class="line">Are hail'd with a thrill of delight by the brave,</p>
<p class="line">When, returning triumphant from conquests afar,</p>
<p class="line">They wreathe round thy altars the trophies of war.</p>
<p class="line">For London! for London! the home of the free,</p>
<p class="line">There's no part in the world, royal London, like thee!</p>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<p class="line">"Oh, London! when we, who exulting behold</p>
<p class="line">Thy splendour and wealth, in the dust shall be cold,</p>
<p class="line">May sages, and heroes, and patriots unborn,</p>
<p class="line">Thy altars defend, and thy annals adorn!</p>
<p class="line">May thy power be supreme on the land of the brave,</p>
<p class="line">The feeble to succour, the fallen to save,</p>
<p class="line">And the sons and the daughters now cradled by thee,</p>
<p class="line">Find no city on earth like the home of the free!"</p>
</div>
</div>
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