A CANADIAN SCENE. On a raw Sabbath morning, after a night of heavy rain, in the month of August, we were assembled round the breakfast-table in our log-cabin, when the sound of a horse's hoofs, followed by a smart rap on the door, announced a visitor. It was Mr Reid, who informed us that his child, which had been missing on the plains the night before, was not yet found, and begging of us, as we were near the ground, to turn out and assist in the search. What are called plains in Canada are ranges of high ground, which stretch through the country, usually parallel to some lake or river, and extend in breadth from two or three to twenty or thirty miles. The soil is sandy, and, except near a stream, thinly wooded; while the ground is covered with swarth, intermixed with the most brilliant wild-flowers, and occasional beds of blaeberries and wild strawberries; thickets of brush, frequently interspersed, rendering it difficult for a stranger to keep his course. It is usual to make picnics to these fruit-gardens, and several of our number had been there the day before. On their return, they mentioned Mr Reid searching for his child, but we had no apprehensions for its safety. Some immediately started for the appointed rendezvous, while those who were left behind to look after the cattle were not slow in following. Scarcely had we reached the foot of the ridge, which was about a quarter of a mile from our house, when a severe thunder-storm commenced, accompanied by heavy rain; and as we entered the forest, the roar of the storm, with the crash of fallen trees, had a most awful effect. We thought of the terrors which must be felt by the poor lost one, and fervently wished it might be in some place of safety. Holding on our way, the smoke of a large fire soon brought us to head-quarters, where we found a number of people assembled, going about without any sort carried on with less energy as the prospect of success diminished: the day was spent in traversing the woods in long ranks, but many seemed careless; and though the finding of a saucer which the child had carried seemed to revive hope, we parted at night fully persuaded that we should never find her alive. Mr Reid had now been out with us every day, and looked fatigued both in body and mind. This morning, on meeting in an altogether new quarter, he told us he had now no hope of finding his child alive, but it would be some satisfaction to ascertain her fate; and if we would use our utmost endeavour this day, he dare hardly ask to trespass further on our time. We now started with a determined energy, and beat round for some hours. At length we mustered the whole party to go back four or five miles to a burn, beyond which we imagined she would not wander; every thicket was examined, and many places seen which had been missed before. It was beautiful to see the deer bound harmless along our track, as the old hunters raised their sticks, wishing they had been rifles; yet we reached the hill overhanging the burn without success. Here we at once stretched ourselves on the sunny bank, and soon stripped the blaeberries of their black fruit. The younger part of us raked about the banks of the burn, while the elders lay down to rest, satisfied that our fruitless labour was now done. When the sun began to decline, we all started homewards, like the company breaking up from some country race - course. Many used praiseworthy endeavours to bring us to order, but in vain. Sometimes we formed line; again it was broken by a startled deer or a covy of pheasants; after which numbers bounded, shouting and yelling with unseasonable merriment. Some trudged along, deep in conversation; while others, in short sleeves, overcome by heat, seated themselves on a log, or, leaning on their companions, jogged lazily along. At length we descended into a hollow thicket, in whose cool shade we again recovered a sort of line. Scarcely had we begun to ascend the opposite hill, when a faint cheer was heard; immediately the woods re-echoed the response of our whole line, and we rushed onward, heedless of every impediment, until we reached a large clearing, amidst which stood an empty frame of a house, and approaching it, there was Mr Reid, with his child in his arms. I will not attempt to describe his joy: we all crowded round to get one glimpse, and then returned to our homes, elated with our success. After being in the woods from Saturday morning until Thursday evening, the child was found by a party of two or three who had straggled from the rest. They saw her standing on a log, and her first question to one of them who advanced was: Do you know where Mr Reid lives?' What had been the sufferings of the little creature for three days and two nights in the open forest, may be left to the imagination of the reader. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE. BY SIR HENRY WOTTON [BORN 1568, DIED 1640.] How happy is he born and taught, Whose passions not his masters are, Of public fame, or private breath: Who envies none that chance doth raise, How deepest wounds are given by praise; Who hath his life from rumours freed, Who God doth late and early pray This man is freed from servile bands THE SOUTH-SEA MARAUDERS. 6 Ir used to be a common phrase among the most roving and wild class of sailors, that there was no peace south of the Line.' This was certainly the case during the chief part of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the tropical regions of the West were so dreadfully infested by bucancers or pirates. These desperadoes belonged to mostly all European nations, but were chiefly English, Dutch, and French, and the whole burden of their cruelty and rapacity fell upon the Spaniards. Against the 'Dons,' as they called them, they waged a continual war, and, as it appeared, on the specious pretence of revenging the cruelties which the Spanish nation had committed upon the Indians. So much did the Spaniards suffer in this way, that they at length adopted the inglorious expedient of desisting from carrying on an intercourse with their SouthAmerican colonies. This, however, served but to excite instead of allaying the plundering propensities of the bucaneers, who now landed from their ships and attacked the colonists in their cities. Curiously enough, these depredations met with little attention in England, or in any country to which the pirates belonged. At this period, the English and other courts of Europe generally winked at the evil deeds of the bucaneers, except when pressed to convict and punish them for their murders and robberies on the high seas. So far as the English were concerned in these enterprises, there can be little reason to doubt that the antipathy which both the nation and the government had to the Spaniards-an antipathy originating, in a great measure, in the attempt of the Spanish Armada on the country, in Queen Elizabeth's time, and which lasted even up till the middle of last century—was one of the prevailing causes of the piratical aggressions, and the impunity with which they were committed. One of the most audacious piratical leaders about the middle of the seventeenth century, was Henry Morgan, a Welshman, who contrived to gain the favour and patronage of Charles II. Morgan levied war on his own account, and that of his companions, on a great scale. In 1670, he undertook a grand expedition against the Spanish SouthAmerican colonies, with thirty-seven sail of vessels and 2000 men, the vessels being well provisioned, and the crews armed to the teeth. After holding a council of war at Cape Tiberoon, it was determined to proceed to attack and plunder the rich town of Panama. But this city was situated on the Pacific side of the South-American continent, and the vessels of the pirates were in the Atlantic. It was hence proposed to leave the ships on the coast, and march overland to the place of meditated destruction. The daring project, which would have daunted less resolute men, was instantly put in execution. Morgan landed at Fort San Lorenzo, on the West India side of the Isthmus of Darien. Having captured this stronghold, in which he left a garrison of 500 of his men, and having committed the charge of the ships to 150 more, the advance towards the shores of the Pacific was commenced. At first, the party ascended the river Chagre in canoes, which took them a certain length. After surmounting incredible difficulties, both on the river and on land, and enduring |