THE CANADIAN FORESTS.

HE scenery in Canada when first beheld by Europeans presented scarcely anything but forest and water. The vast lakes of Ontario, Erie, Huron, and Superior, and the smaller lakes of Simcoe, Rosseau, Moskoco, &c. (like so many expansive sheets of silver), were skirted to the very edge with trees; the great rivers of the St. Lawrence and Ottawa flowed for many hundreds of miles through dense forests; and the thousand of islands which stud those great collections of waters were generally covered with trees. Thus, thousands upon thousands of square miles presented one almost unbroken scene of forest and water. About two hundred years ago almost the only inhabitants of these extensive regions were the rude Indians and the wild animals which they hunted for food and clothing, and with these the rude savage had a supply infinitely beyond his requirements.

Great changes have, however, taken place since that period. Between four and five millions of Europeans have settled in Canada, and built many flourishing cities and towns; while the Indians, the original lords of the soil, are diminished to a few thousands. The dense forests have in many parts been turned into fruitful fields for growing corn and breeding cattle, to supply food for millions of people beyond what the inhabitants require for themselves; and the lakes and rivers may be seen studded with vessels and steamers for commerce in various parts of the world.

Wonderful, indeed, is the change effected within our own time. I well remember when Canada was reckoned to have only one and a half millions of people, and thus it must have increased three millions within my own memory. But there is now living in the splendid city of Toronto a man who remembers in his young days when the scene was an Indian settlement; covered with the forest, where he could go and shoot plenty of wild deer any morning before breakfast; and as for the lake Ontario, on the edge of which the flourishing city now stands, there were thousands of wild ducks and geese upon it, where the sportsman might go and shoot them to his heart's content.

Though so much land is cleared now in Canada, signs of the once universal dominion of the forest everywhere meet your view. When you pass through the country which is well cleared and cultivated, you see thousands of the stumps of trees which once flourished there; and even when you approach a flourishing city you see thousands of

the stumps of trees in the outskirts of the city, and sometimes in the very streets of a new city you see the massive stumps of gigantic trees which have not yet had time to decay.

Very grand are the forests which remain, stretching away for scores of miles, where the wild boar still roams at large, and the red deer still remains undisturbed, except by the screech of the railwayengine as it dashes through the silent shades of their dominion. When in Canada, two years ago, I used to enjoy the forest scenes with exquisite delight. "Here," thought I, "is nature in its primeval state; no plough has scratched this soil, no hand has planted these trees, and no axe has cut one down. Every tree, every bush, every creeping plant, and every flower is in its wild, free, and natural state." But in some parts the elements have waged war against them, and made sad havoc. Sometimes the fierce tempest blows down thousands of stately trees, and there they lie one upon another like giants fallen in battle. And sometimes the powerful beams of the sun kindle the dry leaves and grass into a fire, and then the flames revel in the forest for many many miles without interruption or restraint. I have passed through forests for twenty or thirty miles where nearly all the trees, amounting perhaps to millions, were scathed and charred by fire. There they stand-leafless, branchless, like upright poles in the earth, but blackened from top to bottom by the raging fire. Sometimes the fire sweeps on through the forest, feeding itself as it travels, until it reaches near some town, and then the danger is imminent and alarming. When I was in the city of Ottawa I was informed that, only a few years before, a forest fire had raged until it approached the city. Some families perished in the flames, and others fled from the scene, leaving all their possessions behind them to be destroyed. Even wild bears ran from the forest into the city to find a refuge there; and had it not been for the ingenious expedient of cutting down the bank of the river Rideau, and thus flooding the surrounding country with a deluge of water, the city itself might have perished. Such are some of the dangers incident to a new country where the forest still holds extensive dominion. This danger, however, lessens every year, and on the whole the emigrant lives a happy though quiet and laborious life; and often in a few years he rises to affluence, with a good prospect for the welfare of the family he may rear to succeed him. Our engraving affords a good representation of the Canadian forest where the emigrant is just beginning to clear a settlement for himself and his family.

W. C.

CARDINAL WOLSEY.

"Lo, this is the man that made not God his strength; but trusted in the abundance of his riches."-Psalm lii., 7.

THE experience of Cardinal Wolsey verified the above exclamation. He trusted in riches and honours instead of true religion; and in a fickle, wicked king instead of God; and what then? Why his king forsook him, his wealth was confiscated, his honours faded, and he died broken in heart, as well as sunk into disgrace; and among his last words were these memorable words: "Had I but served my God as faithfully as I have served my king, He would not have forsaken me now in my grey hairs; but this is the just reward that I must receive for my indulgent pains and study, not regarding my service to God, but only to my prince."

A lamentable end to a life of splendour! "Lo, this is the man that made not God his strength; but trusted in the abundance of his riches."

But what is a cardinal, and who was this man named Wolsey? Well, I will tell you. A cardinal is one of the seventy bishops who form the Pope's council; such men are next to the Pope himself in dignity and authority; and from these the Popes are elected. Wolsey was one of these cardinals.

He was the son of a butcher, born at Ipswich, studied at Oxford, and becoming one of the Crown chaplains, his fine appearance, natural eloquence, and business tactics, won the favour of the then reigning king, Henry VIII. He was appointed almoner to the monarch, and so adapted himself to the humour, the caprice, and the pleasures of his royal master, that he acquired great influence over him, and became his confidant and companion; and while relieving his cares of government, he flattered his vanity and gratified his passions. His influence at court brought him many admirers, and secured him many presents and lucrative preferments. In the year 1510 he became Rector of Torrington; in 1511, Canon of Windsor, and Registrar of the Order of the Garter; in 1512, Prebendary of York and Lord Treasurer; in 1513, Dean of York, and Bishop of Tournay, in France; in 1514, Bishop of Lincoln and Archbishop of York; in 1515 he was made Cardinal and Chancellor of England; and in 1516 Pope Leo made him Legate, with almost unlimited power over the clergy of the kingdom. He had now almost the whole authority of the Church and State in his hands, and his favour was courted by bishops and nobles at home, and by kings and princes abroad. Availing himself of his