Beautiful Scenes and Strange Experiences.  
And, truly, the scene which met their gaze was of a nature calculated to arouse enthusiasm in a much less ardent bosom than that of Captain Trench. A wide undulating country, studded with lakelets and rich with verdure, stretched away from their feet to the horizon, where a range of purple hills seemed to melt and mingle with cloudland, so that the eye was carried, as it were, by imperceptible gradations from the rugged earth up into the soft blue sky; indeed, it was difficult to distinguish where the former ended and the latter began. The lakes and ponds were gay with yellow water-lilies, and the air was musical with the sweet cries of wildfowl; while the noon-tide sun bathed the whole in a golden glory.
 
The effect of such a sight on our wanderers was at first too powerful for words, and when words did burst forth they served to show how wonderfully diverse are the spirits of men. Captain Trench, as we have seen, was moved by this vision of beauty to shout, almost to dance, with delight, while in thought he bounded over the length and breadth of the new land, taking bearings, and making notes and charts with the view of extending the geographical knowledge of mankind! His son Oliver, on the other hand, allowed his imagination to revel freely through the forests and over the hills and across lakes and savannahs in powerful sympathy with the aspirations which must have animated Nimrod; while to Paul Burns, whose temperament was sedate and earnest, as well as cheerful and hearty, the glorious vision at once suggested thoughts of that tranquil home in which man’s lot was originally cast by the loving heart of God.
 
“Now it is quite plain,” said Trench, as they slowly descended into this beautiful scene, “that this land is no collection of small islands, as we have been led to suppose, but a great land full of all that is needful to make it the happy abode of man.”
 
“Just so, daddy!” exclaimed the enthusiastic Oliver, “and we have been sent to explore it and carry home the news—perhaps to bring out the first settlers and show them the way!”
 
“Why, Olly, you carry too much sail for so small a craft; you look out rather too far ahead. And what mean ye by saying we are sent? Nobody sent us on this journey that I know of, unless you mean that Swinton—the big scoundrel!—sent us.”
 
“Whatever Olly meant by the expression,” interposed Paul, “I think he is right; for all men are sent by the Almighty, no matter where they go.”
 
“What! d’ye mean that men are sent by the Almighty whether they go to do good or evil?”
 
“Ay, Master Trench, that is what I mean; they are sent by Him, though not sent to do evil. Look here, don’t you admit that God created all men and sent them into this world?”
 
“Of course I do.”
 
“And that He made you an Englishman, and so sent you to England; and that He made you a sea-captain, and among other places sent you to Newfoundland.”
 
“Well—I—I suppose He did,” returned the captain, with that puzzled expression of countenance which was wont to indicate that his mind was grappling difficulties.
 
“Well, then,” continued Paul, “being good, of course the Almighty sent us to do good; but He also gave us free wills, which just means permission to do as we please; so it remains to be seen whether we will use our free wills in working with Him, or in trying to work against Him, for, strange to say, we cannot really work against God, we can only try to do it, and in so trying we establish the fact of our own wickedness; but His grand and good purposes shall be carried out in spite of us notwithstanding, for he can bring good out of evil.”
 
“Now, Paul, I’ve lost soundings altogether, and it’s my opinion that you are foolishly talking about things that you, don’t understand.”
 
“I never heard, Master Trench, that it was foolish to talk about what one does not understand! On the contrary, it is by talking of things that we don’t understand that we manage at last to understand them. You had a deal of talking about navigation, had you not, before you understood it?”
 
“Look ’ee here, lad,” said Trench, stopping suddenly, with his legs planted firmly apart as though on the quarter-deck of his ship in a cross sea, while he drove his right fist into the palm of his left hand argumentatively. “Look ’ee here. How can it be possible that—that—pooh! Come along, we’ll never get on with our survey of the land if we dispute at this rate.”
 
The stout mariner turned away with an air of exasperation, and resumed his walk at a rapid pace, closely followed by his amused friend and son.
 
This irreverent mode of dismissing a grave and difficult subject was not peculiar to Captain Trench. It has probably been adopted by those who shrink from mental effort ever since the days of Adam and Eve. Minds great and small have exercised themselves since the beginning of time on this perplexing subject—God’s sovereignty and man’s free will—with benefit, probably, to themselves. We recommend it in passing, good reader, to your attention, and we will claim to be guiltless of presumption in thus advising, so long as the writing stands, “Prove all things, and hold fast that which is good.”
 
Before the sun went down that night our explorers had plunged into the very heart of the beautiful country which we have described—now pushing through tangled underwood, or following the innumerable deer-tracks with which the country was seamed, or breasting the hill-sides, or making détours to get round small lakes, being guided, in a westerly direction, by a small pocket-compass which Captain Trench was fortunately in the habit of carrying with him wherever he went. No large lakes or broad rivers had yet been met with, so that up to this point the divergencies from the direct line had not been great.
 
Thus they advanced for several days, subsisting on game and fish, chiefly the last, however; for their shooting powers were very defective, and Oliver was an ardent—too ardent—fisher. Their inability to shoot became at last a serious matter, for many arrows and bolts were lost, as well as much game.
 
“Look, now, there’s another chance,” whispered Paul, pointing to a plump willow-grouse that sat in a bush in front of them. “You try first, Master Trench.”
 
“An’ don’t miss, daddy,” said Oliver entreatingly; “there’s only the bones of a rabbit left from this morning’s breakfast.”
 
The captain took a fervently careful aim, but went far wide of the mark, to his intense chagrin. Paul then bent his bow, but without success, though his arrows stuck in a branch close under the bird, which, being very tame, only glanced down inquiringly. Oliver’s arrow went over it, and the stone which he afterwards slang made such a rattling in the bush that the ............