The contrast to this at Mr. Flower's was violent and pleasing; there, we met with every polite and hospitable attention during our stay, and from thence alone we were grieved to depart. In the midst of these wilds the elegant repast and social converse were again, as if by magic, enjoyed; and in such agreeable dissipation of mind the purposes of the journey were perhaps too much lost sight of, and many inquiries neglected which are now causes of regret. We did not fail however to explore the retreat of Mr. Morris Birkbeck,--a pleasant drive across the Prairie brought us to the Flat, at one extremity of which Mr. B. has established himself. We found him busy superintending the building of his house; the site of which is within twenty yards of his erection of logs, a square building divided into two rooms, as I heard, for we did not see the interior of this _sanctum sanctorum_ from whence have been issued relations of so many snug cottages, with adjoining piggeries, cow-steads, gardens, and orchards; where the limbs of the poor emigrant were to find repose and his {116} mind solace, not to mention the ranges of log rooms for the arch priest himself which were building two years ago;[39*] all--all have vanished "into thin air," except the humble primitive log building before mentioned. This serves the whole family, according to the cobbler's song, "For parlour, for kitchen and hall;" and furnishes a proof, though perhaps not sufficient for every one, (the world is so incredulous,) of Mr. Birkbeck's humility, for he certainly does not at present enjoy the _otium cum dignitate_ whatever he may have in prospect.