Volume 2 — JOURNAL

OF A VISIT TO QUEBEC, VIA LAKE CHAMPLAN AND MONTREAL.

Saturday, May 30th.—Went on board the De Witt Clinton steam-boat about six P.M. and in the brightest possible night sailed up the most beautiful of rivers. We were not crowded; my excellent friend C——e was in company, on his way to take unto him a wife, and consequently the trip was to me unusually agreeable. We kept pacing the deck until we had passed through the deep shadows of the highlands, and floated over the silvery expanse of Newburg Bay.

Sunday, 31st.—Before six A.M. we were set ashore at Albany. Breakfasted at the Eagle, and at nine A.M. left for Saratoga by the railroad; thence by stage to Whitehall. The day was fine, the roads rough enough to be sure. To the north lay the mountain State of Vermont, and to the south a ridge of bold well-wooded heights. At Glenfalls we passed the Hudson by a wooden bridge thrown over the very foot of the cataract: luckily, whilst in the act of crossing, a trace came unhitched, and we pulled up to order matters, just at the centre of the misty abyss. Thus were we afforded ample leisure to look on the wild fall, which, when in the wilderness, must have been a glorious scene; for, disfigured as it now is by a mill or two of the ordinary kind, it is still magnificent.

Our ride from this place to Whitehall reminded me much of some part of North Wales: the enclosures are small, irregularly shaped, and surrounded by walls of stone; many rills of clear water are crossed, making their way to the Hudson through rough courses bestrewn with fragments of rock: close on the left the river is itself visible every now and then, whilst in the distance rise a confused heap of wild mountains.

Numerous comely-looking pigs, together with groups of round-faced fat children, barefooted and bareheaded, complete the resemblance.

For the last seven miles the road was of the roughest kind; but our coachman rattled along merrily, getting us to Whitehall by ten P.M.

Monday, June 1st.—At about one we quitted the comfortable inn here, and the busy little town of Whitehall; and in the fine steamer Phœnix thridded our way out of the swampy harbour formed by the head-waters of the lake.

The hills about us rose boldly, and were covered with a variety of trees now clothed in their freshest leaves, therefore beautiful to look on. For many miles the channel continues narrow, at times confined by a steep wall of marble surmounted by rich flowering shrubs; then, for a short distance, laving the edge of some rich meadow slope. At last, the lake expanded gloriously, reminding me, at a first glimpse, of the Trossachs, save that here was less grandeur and deep shadow, the outlines of the mountains were softer and the valleys more fertile.

The green mountains of the State of Vermont now bounded the lake upon the north, and on the south rose the Giant-mountains of the State of New York. These were for ever changing in form, as we crossed and re-crossed the lake in order to land or receive passengers from stated points. This circumstance also brought us acquainted with several very lovely locations. Beneath the old fort of Ticonderago we halted for a few minutes; and at Crown-point our stay was long enough to allow a rough sketch to be taken of the roofless barracks and the ruined works.

In the course of our progress we ran into two or three of the sweetest bays imaginable, where the calm lake was shadowed by steep mountains, down whose sides leaped little tributary streams that rushed sparkling and foaming into its turbid bosom.

It is most certain that, had these beauties been given to England or to Scotland, they would each and all have been berhymed and bepainted until every point of real or imaginable loveliness had been exhausted: for myself, I have looked on many lakes, and by none have been more delightfully beguiled than by a contemplation of this during some nine hours of sunshine, sunset, and twilight, the last alone too brief. Atmosphere, I am aware, does much; and this was one of those lovely days whose influence expands the heart and takes the reason prisoner.

After quitting Burlington, where we encountered the returning steam-boat, and received a large accession of force, I retired to my berth, and enjoyed the soundest possible sleep.

Tuesday, 2nd.—On deck at six A.M.: found the lake had assumed a river-like appearance; the channel narrow, the banks low and swampy. The day, too, was as much changed as the scene from yesterday, for a drizzling rain was falling, and the clouds looked heavy and threatening.

As we neared St. John's, we had a slight custom-house visitation; and, soon after landing, were served with an excellent breakfast; after which came the bustle of departure. A string of carriages, of the same build used throughout the States, occupied half the little street, all loading heavily with baggage and bipeds, till by nine we got in motion, forming quite a caravan.

The road lay for a time along the bank of the new canal destined to unite the head-waters of the lake with the St. Lawrence, and was a pleasant succession of ditch and bog-hole. It got better after a few miles' jolting, but was nowhere tolerable, or creditable to his Majesty's dominions.

On entering La Prairie, at noon, we found the good people annoyed by a visitation which had not yet reached St. John's, namely, myriads of a winged insect called the shad-fly; these covered and crowded every building, filled the water and the air; they lodged on your clothes, rendered sight difficult, and speaking impracticable, except with closed teeth. Luckily, these flies neither sting nor bite; so that, setting aside their appearance, and a certain tickling they inflict upon the neck and face, they are easily borne with. At half-past one P.M. the steamer Britannia quitted the port of La Prairie to cross the wide St. Lawrence, to where our Land of Promise, Montreal, lay glittering in sunshine some nine miles distant.

Half an hour landed us, and I received the pleasure of a grip of welcome from my old friend W——w, who, with two or three of his brother-officers, was on the look-out for me. Leaving my baggage to the care of Sam, I stepped into the boat, and at once accompanied W——w to St. Helen's, lying about half a mile from the main land.

In ten minutes more we were treading the verdant sod of the island, when my first movement was to walk round it. I found it to possess every variety of country in perfect miniature proportions: here were wood-crowned steeps, shady glades, and open meadows, all offered in as many changes as might well be managed on so small a surface. Viewed from this, the city too looked very attractive, scattered over the southern side of the great mountain.

This little island was the latest possession of the French in Canada. Above a fort now in ruins was last elevated the white standard, which at one time fluttered from the St. Lawrence to the Mississippi: thus girdling, as it were, the British colonies, France one day looked to sweep into the Atlantic.

Upon the westernmost point of the island, the tree still stands fresh and vigorous beneath which the articles for the final cession of the Canadas were agreed upon, and the last portion of the vast empire contemplated for France by the genius of Richelieu for ever abandoned.

The present garrison is composed of a company of the Royal Artillery. Here is an extensive depôt for stores, an armoury, two great magazines containing not less than six thousand barrels of gunpowder and all the other munitions of war.

In the afternoon I re-crossed the channel and surveyed Montreal, which has an air completely French. The streets are irregular, narrow, ill-paved, and moreover rejoice universally in a fishy savour in no way detracting from their Gallic characteristics.

Here is a large building in progress, or at least standing in an unfinished state, called the Cathedral, but, saving the size, putting forth externally small claim to notice; whilst the interior might serve as a model of ill-taste, both as to arrangement and colour, for the especial enlightenment of all future building committees. The convents appear well built; and many of the private dwellings are large, and of a goodly aspect.

Thursday, 4th.—Having fully made up my mind on this day to ride over the race-course, visit the Rapids of La Chine, and make a complete circuit of the mountain, I was resolute, my time being meted, to carry out my plan despite a thunderstorm of the most violent kind, which began as we were setting forth and continued all day, with one or two short intervals of sunshine.

I found in the beauty of the country as seen from the Rapids, and from the different points of the mountain, ample compensation: what my complaisant companions felt I am not so sure of. We of a certainty returned in the afternoon three of the most thoroughly soaked and dirtiest gentlemen within the wide range of his Majesty's dominions. On the whole, it was agreed that, having to choose between a ducking or a dusting, we were better off served up soused in rain and only parboiled, than we should have been smothered in dust and wholly roasted.

Dined at the hospitable mess of the 32nd, and quitted it late for St. Helen's.

The lightning was frequent and very vivid during our row across the rapid; and it was a curious speculation to narrowly watch an occasional flash descending the tall conducting rods, and gambol along the roof of the great magazine, as though prying for a sly crevice by which to enter. It afforded a subject for consideration to calculate the next possible resting-place of our little isle, should the ignition of six thousand barrels of gunpowder treat us with an ascension by moonlight.

The soldiers' wives were in great alarm, poor souls! and some of the chubby regimental urchins, destined to live on gunpowder, were now crying their eyes out for very fear, as they clung to their mothers' petticoats, where they gathered in little knots to watch the fantastic course of the wild fluid.

Fatigue had prepared me for sleep, and my rest was undisturbed, excepting that I conceived the sentry's quarterly cry of "All's well!" sounded louder than usual, or that I heard it oftener than was my wont, as it rose distinctly above the fitful roar of the storm.

Friday, 5th.—All is perfectly calm, and gladness and increase of beauty are spread over the newly-renovated field and forest. "What a delicious spot is this same St. Helen's!"

Such, involuntarily, was my exclamation as I this morning thrust aside the jalousies from my open window, and felt the pure air rush within my little chamber, and saw the sunbeams dancing down the passing rapid, and flashing from the bright roofs and spires of the more distant city. One might have fancied the tales of El Dorado realized, and that the precious metals were here devoted to cover the humblest dwellings.

I should like greatly to have a history of this sweet spot since the first bold savage braved in his canoe the perilous rapid, and found security beneath the shadow of these spreading trees.

In the winter, by the way, the passage is simple enough,—a natural high road of ice unites it to Montreal; and last season, my friends inform me, they drove their light carioles over a finer way than Mac Adam ever dreamed of, for full thirteen weeks.

Independent of the garrison, the population of St. Helen's is limited to three or four families in the civil employ of the government, together with the holder of a fine farm, a scion of the Green Isle, who bears the unquestionable name of Mister Dolan; a man of little labour but much Latin, whose humanities are at his finger-ends whilst his toes are out of his brogues.

In right of a small rental paid to government, this worthy carefully superintends the dilapidations performing by time and the climate upon the neat cottage, and a couple of rustic pavilions erected by the taste of Lady Dalhousie whilst her lord commanded here, together with an inclosed garden, which would, if decently cultivated, supply Montreal with fruit and vegetables, all of which, under the inspection of my friend Mister Dolan, is fast retrograding into its primitive condition.

I this morning, at eleven, met my company at the theatre, a very neat one; and, what with those already mustered, together with a windfall just landed from Waterford, in the shape of a pretty woman and her husband, in search of an engagement, I fancy my friend B——y and I may manage to get up one night's fun for Montreal, though, for my own part, I would rather idle than play.

Same night acted a couple of interludes to a full house, and an exceedingly merry-humoured one; although the only really good thing was the orchestra, composed of the excellent band of the 32nd regiment, which had been kindly placed by the commanding officer at the disposal of "the Lessee."

At a late hour took to the skiff for our quiet retreat, which rose, in this time of moonlight, above the shining waters like some fairy garden resting on a bed of mother-of-pearl. We sung Moore's Boat-song, and not a sound except the appropriate soft plash of the oars came between us and the echo that faintly repeated our chorus.

The echo from the island, by the way, is very distinct, and oft repeated; and, on such a night as this, to stand beside the nine-o'clock gun, listening to its bellow as it reverberates amongst the opposite heights, is one of the things of these parts worth doing.

Saturday, 6th.—Again, what sunshine! and how invigorating is the wind, now breathing sweet music through the trees as their thick leaves rustle above the swift river!

Two or three large rafts are in sight, their hardy crews straining on the huge oars as they cross the rapids for the city. At measured intervals their wild cry fills the air; whilst the notes of our island bugles, together with the drums of the city, reply merrily and boldly, as though flinging back the challenge of some approaching horde of savage invaders.

And verily no beings can look more wild of aspect or attire than the crews working the huge rafts which navigate these waters. Europeans, Indians, and Bois-brules, as the half-breed is denominated, are all found in this employ, but so much alike in equipment and complexion, that, only for the round Saxon face, light hair, and blue eyes, here and there distinguishable, it would be difficult to conceive them of different lineage.

A pair of loose trousers of coloured serge or flannel, a sash of scarlet worsted or wampum girt about the loins over a shirt of indescribable hue, moccassins on the feet, and a red cap or bonnet of fox-skin, or not unfrequently a shock of hair that despises any covering, and alike defies the force of sun and storm, forms the common costume of these sons of toil, whose lives, commonly of short duration, are wasted in quick alternations of perilous labour and wild debauch.

Their rough mates, the boatmen of old Mississippi and the lakes, have nearly disappeared; and how much longer steam and railway will yet leave this calling open to the Tartar-spirits of the North, it is impossible to say. At present they are evidently in full employ, for there is hardly a reach of the rivers flowing about the isles of Montreal but is, at some time or other throughout the day, laden by these cumbrous rafts, often measuring one hundred feet in length by ten in width.

These masses are rafted from vast distances; and, during their course of perhaps fifty days, their crews look for no covering: the rain descends upon them, and the waves of the rapids rise over them, but they abide both without shade or shelter; subsisting principally upon pork, dressed or raw, as may be, and having for their beverage the stream whereon they may chance to float, except during an occasional halt at some stated point where whisky invites them to hold a deep but brief carouse.

At ten A.M. crossed to the city according to appointment, to meet three friends in whose good company I was to visit

The Sault au Recollect.

I procured the stout charger whose quality of endurance I had well tested on a former occasion. True to our time, we took the road, such as it was, and, after an hour's hard riding, reached the river at the point where several fine mills and a fishery bring constant grist to the worthy monks of St. Sulpice, who are here the lords paramount of soil and stream.

The fishermen appeared divided into two watches or squads, one of which was actively casting for the shad, the other more pleasantly employed in cooking them.

We took our stand upon a green point elevated a few feet above the river it projected into; in front ran the Sault, or leap, raging like the ocean when lashed by a gale, and churning amongst reefs of rock. Opposite to us, at a distance of some half mile, stood a couple of very spacious stone-built mills, their lofty substantial walls pierced by numerous narrow windows, and surmounted by steep red roofs, high over which waved a grove of noble trees: this was l'île Jésu, and the stand whence we surveyed this scene the Isle of Montreal.

Whichever way we cast our eyes, up or down the stream, its course was vexed and its mood chafed more or less; but before, and close upon our right, was the wildest turmoil; and over an eddy of this, from off temporary platforms of planks, the fishermen flung down the stream their round landing-nets, as far as the eighteen-foot pole to which these were affixed would permit, then painfully dragged them back against the current, sometimes laden with fine shad, but oftener coming home empty, to be again leisurely cast back.

The sameness of this movement, the softness of the turf, and the difficulty attending conversation, had gradually lulled our little party into a pleasant reverie; when, on a sudden, we were startled by faint cheers borne on the downward breeze: we all sprang upon our feet in an instant, and, looking upwards, caught sight of a monstrous bed of timber bounding towards the Sault.

This was the very chance we had desired and were waiting for, and intensely was my sight directed towards it. On the very centre of the raft a tall pole was elevated, surmounted by a fanciful flag; at its foot the Pilot, or Conducteur, was stationed, motioning the course suggested by his glance at the state of the fall, towards which the mass was hurried with a rapidity each instant seemed to accelerate; and, in obedience to his directions, the active rameurs were seen tugging at the oars, and straining each sinew to the uttermost.

Involuntarily we approached the very edge of our stand, to watch as closely as possible the first plunge of that great raft down into the boiling breakers, from whose abyss a crew of Titans could not now have turned it. Quickly it neared the awful leap; at a signal from the watchful pilot, the foremost half of the crew abandoned their useless oars; and, running nimbly along the timber, rallied in a group about their standard, waving their caps, and braving the wild roar of the water with as wild a cheer. Suddenly the fluttering pennon drooped against the mast, then rose erect above it; the loud hurrah was lost, and headlong down they sank.

The heavy mass, loosely bound together, now writhed and bent about like a net of twine cast upon an angry brook, whilst the concussion produced by the clashing timbers sounded like a discharge from a battery. I drew short breath as I looked upon the men emerging from the foam, and again actively running to quarters to resume the heavy oars.

If the raft goes down unbroken, they guide it so as to preserve the very strength of the stream, until the diminished pace again demands their labour; but if any timbers are severed from the parent bed by the leap, as is frequently the case, the sternmost gang leisurely dart their pile-headed poles of an almost unwieldy length into the stray logs, and thus drawing them quickly back again, secure them in their places preparatory to the next fall lying on their perilous path.

I felt monstrously excited when, roused by the cry of the near voyageurs, I rose for the first time to witness a scene to which I feel my pen can do but little justice; from the first glance at the timber-ends emerging past a leafy turn in the up-stream, and bounding onward with a momentary increase of impetus, until the strong raft becomes but as a bed of straw upon the torrent. Then there is the desperate plying of the oars, their hurried abandonment, with the in-gathering, of the bold crew clinging together with cheers round their bright flag, until the leap is made, and the assailing waves rise boiling about and above them.

One of the descending rafts, for we were favoured with several, parted in nearly two halves within the rapids: luckily no one had been left out of bounds; for, as the fishermen assured us, the strongest swimmer is never seen alive after his first plunge into these frightful eddies.

Having abided our time, we purchased a fine shad, which we took to a near cottage, where the mistress cheerfully set about boucan-ing it for us; that is, roasting it over the fire in the smoke of the wood. With this, some brown-bread, and a glass of water, we made an excellent luncheon; then, after taking a considerable circuit, re-entered Montreal, and crossed at once to the island par excellence.

At half-past eight P.M. of the same evening I was put on board the "British America" steamboat, a fine large-class vessel, having a heavily laden schooner in tow.

As we swept down before the river-front of the city, I was struck with the appearance of the steep tin-roofed houses and many little domes glancing back the moon's rays; when, turning to regard St. Helen's, the blaze of a port-fire arrested my attention; the flash of the gun instantly succeeded, whilst, amidst its prolonged echoes, rose the contending notes of drum and bugle. It was just nine o'clock; in a few moments all was again calm and still, the last spire of Montreal quickly retreated in the shades of night, and the low banks of the St. Lawrence stretched away far and wide before us.

After a couple of hours' walk on deck, where two or three ladies and gentlemen were promenading with the quick, active step that at once proclaimed them English, I felt sufficiently wearied by some eighteen hours actively passed on foot or in saddle, to calculate on a sound sleep.

About midnight a devil of a row awakened me; I listened, and heard a rush overhead like a burst of cavalry, the trampling of horses, the yelling of dogs, together with the loud voices of many men in high contention. What the mischief can have come to us? thinks I.

A stray waiter, whom I discovered discoursin' a friend in the pantry, was at last made sensible of my calls, and from this youth I quickly learned our whereabout.

We were lying at Sorrel, the country-residence of the Governor, Lord Aylmer; and the noise was occasioned by the shipping of his lordship's stud for Quebec, whither the family had removed from this summer abode, to await and receive the commission about to supersede him in his high office.

Finding that the din was not occasioned by an infall of the aborigines, but was only a peaceful taking in of freight, I dismissed my waiter to his friend and pantry, and "addressed me again to sleep."

Sunday, 7th.—About noon arrived at Trois Rivières, a very pretty little town, which, being Sunday, was thronged with the rural population of the vicinity attending church.

Numbers of these persons were pacing along the river-bank upon sturdy little ponies, and in the harbour were many bateaux filling with them, before re-crossing the St. Lawrence: their dress was invariably neat and picturesque, and their physiognomy, though somewhat heavy, was gentle and pleasing. These bateaux were shaded with the branches of trees, and decorated with wild flowers, and when moving off with their freight had quite an Arcadian appearance.

From this place to St. Anne's, the north bank of this river might be sketched for the same side of the Mississippi as viewed from New Orleans to Baton Rouge; a natural levee runs along at about the same elevation, on a like dead level; directly behind this bank are scattered similar poor-looking tenements, badly built, and half painted; and, at a certain distance in the rear of these, rises a melancholy-looking forest of half-naked trees, with not a single rise or gap along the hazy line of the horizon resting upon them. The glowing heat of this calm day also favoured the illusion, which was certainly in all its points the most perfect imaginable: it would require very little to persuade a man landed here on such a day that he was in Louisiana.

The river again becomes interesting about the junction of the Richelieu. The banks are once more broken and of irregular heights. Numerous churches, having domes and spires like the béfrois of Normandy, only that these are roofed over with pure tin, shoot above each wooded knoll; and the stream whirls and boils amongst reefs of irregular rock, some hidden, others visible, moving at a great pace for the ticklish navigation.

At three P.M. the Heights of Abraham hove in sight, and our prospect grew in interest with every moment. Next rose a forest of tall masts along the shore; away upon our right was Point Levi, with its soft wooded brow; and above our heads upon the left glistened tower and town, with the grim batteries hanging over the precipice.

As we drew closer, the ruins of the Chateau formed an object of striking interest, and gave added effect to the approach to this most picturesque capital; an object of interest which I hope will soon be removed by his Majesty's loyal and liberal parliament for Lower Canada, and a new edifice erected, in a style becoming to their taste and worthy such a site.

The valley of Montmorency, with its long straggling suburb, soon opened to our view; and the river assumed the appearance of a lake encircled by mountains, and bounded at its eastern extremity by the Isle of Orleans.

I was perfectly enraptured with air, earth, and water: freshness and beauty reigned over all; there was not a cloud in the sky or a spot on the landscape one would have desired blotted out; and, taken as a coup d'œil, I do not hesitate to say this was by far the finest I ever beheld.

Sunday though this was, there was much bustle in the harbour. Little dwarfish steamers were flying across the channel in opposite directions; long boats, laden with sea-worn emigrants, were rowing from the shore back to their respective ships.

It was pleasant to look on these poor people coming back from a first attendance at the altars raised, by their predecessors in exile, amidst a wilderness now made, by the industry Heaven has blessed, so glorious.

How cheering in their eyes must have been this sunny view of the land of their adoption! How must their hearts have leaped within them as they pressed for the first time its shores, and heard once more the sound of the church-going bell, and kneeled in gratitude before that type of salvation which they came to bear yet deeper within the bosom of the desert, themselves the hardy pilgrims of a new crusade! their hâches d'armes, their stout wood-axes; their lances, the goads of the patient steer; their artillery, the plough and harrow; their advance, the progress of industrious hardihood; their bloodless victory, a blessing to the field they win, a glory to the banner under which they strive: braving peril, toil, and exile for a country to be made holy by their triumph, and consecrated at once to freedom and to God!

It was impossible to contemplate unmoved this rustic chivalry, this banding of men of every European tongue for a common purpose, so pregnant with good for themselves and for their posterity.

Let the healthful tide roll on, here is boundless space for all comers; and ages must pass before willing toil shall fail to find present employment, cheered by the prospect of ultimate independence.

About five P.M. we were landed. In company with Captain W——s, U. S. A. I ascended the mountain; and, as our time was limited, we had no sooner secured good quarters at the hotel than we sallied forth to survey the works, which are, I understand, of the strongest and most perfect description, sufficiently guaranteeing Quebec against all surprisal for the time to come.

The finest view is that offered from the Signal-tower.

The city, Point Levi, the winding river, with the Isle of Orleans, lay clearly spread beneath our feet as in a well-designed panorama, with such light and shadow as the artist is seldom favoured with, except in imagination.

Coming down from the fort, I was happy enough to encounter Captain Doyle, driving a right London-appointed tilbury. He had been to the hotel in search of me, and now, dismissing his boy, installed me in the vacancy, and set off at once for the field of battle on the Plains of Abraham.

Our first pull-up was by a little potato-field, memorable as the spot where the gallant Wolfe fell. A broken column of black marble had just been erected here by Lord Aylmer: a tribute honourable to the taste of the gallant soldier living, and which will henceforward worthily mark the spot where the young victor died.

After viewing over the battle-ground, with the ascent from Wolfe's Cove, we turned back to the city and drove to the Chateau, or rather to its ruins. We walked through the blackened hall out upon the still firm floor of the gallery, or balcony, overlooking at a giddy height the lower town. From this we strolled through the hanging-garden of the Chateau, which is laid out on terraces cut from the face of the precipice, and hedged in by a range of cannon of the largest calibre.

Took coffee with Doyle in a chamber, which, although placed at a somewhat unfashionable altitude, commanded a prospect worth all the labour of a threefold flight. Finding it a hopeless task waiting for night, that is, for darkness, went home and to bed, a little wearied, but more delighted, leaving directions to be called at five A.M. having arranged with Captain W——s to ride at that hour to the Falls of Montmorency.

Monday, 8th.—In saddle by half past five A.M. with a morning that made these narrow, dusty streets look both cool and clear. The market-folk were already in motion from the country, having light carts filled with the articles they supply to the bourgeoisie.

Crossing a long wooden bridge, whose toll was collected by a sturdy old invalid soldier, we entered, soon after, a perfect French village of interminable length, closely flanking the highway, and possessing a very large and well-built church, fronted, after the fashion universal here, by a couple of spires, with a large dome in the centre, all coated over with bright tin, and so glittering famously in the morning sun.

A tolerable road brought us in ten miles or so to the object of our early gallop. Hitching the horses beneath a near shed, we roamed about looking how best to descend; until discovering a ladder planted against the face of the precipice, we took to this, and going down it about seventy feet, were landed upon a table-rock exactly on a level with the torrent, and at the very point whence it makes its down leap into a bay of the St. Lawrence, a portion of it being arrested, and turned to the ignoble use of a wool-carding mill, which abuts on the very edge of the cataract.

I have no sort of doubt that, had I been brought hither before seeing Niagara, I should have felt duly impressed by its grandeur, which is unquestionably of a character sufficiently striking to inspire a much less sensitive admirer of the sublime in nature; as it was, this fall only brought fresh to my recollection the scene I had looked upon the year before, no feature of which can ever be effaced by any other object.

At this day I can find no adequate language wherein to dress my impressions of that wonder. Of Montmorency I only know that I felt, whilst viewing it, as though other doings of Nature might be found every way fellow to it: that such things, in fact, were existing elsewhere, or might be.

But Niagara in its greatness makes all else little. It stands, incomparable and alone, a time-defying monument of creation as first called from chaos; one feels that the waters of the deluge may have risen above it and subsided, leaving it unaltered. It is possible to imagine all other worldly things either changed, or within the scope of mutation and the power of Time. You feel that with most earthly things you have a right to speculate, to calculate on their endurance, to control and to direct them: but never so with old Niagara. Its aspect awes man into nothing, it mocks at his dreams, and defies alike his wisdom and his power.

Certain points on this Montmorency road afford, I fancy, the finest view of Quebec. Two sides of the city are presented, with its close streets, and bright-roofed buildings, rising irregularly tier over tier, and crowned by the formidable lines of defence over which the cross of Old England waves proudly in the breeze. Opposite swells the softer outline of Point Levi, sprinkled with pretty cottages, and separated from the mountain by a narrow channel. As a foreground, the smooth bay lies spread between, and over all bends a sky without a cloud, glowing in the colour of the early morning sun.

With this scene before us, we rattled back at a merry pace, reaching our quarters by a little after eight A.M. We found horses here awaiting to carry us to the Chateau to breakfast, an attention of Captain Doyle's which, after a hasty toilet, we availed ourselves of.

My steed, who had probably an eye to his own breakfast rather than to mine, made a bolt for the stable just as we gained the house; I strove to persuade him to take me to the door by the only means I possessed—patience, civility, and a stick: but he would not be 'ticed; I lost my patience, forgot my civility, and broke my stick, yet he fairly bullied me, till, finding my saddle turning, I left him to go his own way, and ungraciously ceded the point in dispute.

After breakfast, my American soldier companion being naturally solicitous to witness guard mounting, I accompanied him on to the parade, and had the pleasure of seeing the 79th Highlanders come on the ground, with the band and pipes playing alternately. It was really quite refreshing to see this fine corps in such order; the men were uncommonly good-looking fellows, and fairly shook the ground with their measured tread.

Of all our soldiers no arm attracts the notice and admiration of strangers so much as the Highland corps; the striking colours of the costume, its picturesque arrangement, the waving of the gay plaid and plume, together with the strange wild skirl of the bagpipes, lay hold on the imagination, and are at the same time so unlike the military array of any other country, that no comparison is ever suggested as a drawback.

It was no easy matter to tear oneself away from the hospitalities tendered from every quarter here; but finding that after this night no boat was to sail until Wednesday, and having pledged myself to be at Montreal on that day, I even buckled on the armour of resolution, and, making a virtue of necessity, broke away in time to join Captain W——s on board the steamer, at ten o'clock P.M. Within a quarter of an hour after we left the wharf, making a sweep downwards in order to take a large brig in tow from her moorings in the stream.

This chance and the correspondent delay, afforded us an opportunity of viewing the city from various points. The night was lovely, and the deep shadows of the towering mountain, with each salient angle made bright by the silver moon, formed a picture altogether enchanting.

The ruins of the Chateau, with the rays of bright light streaming through its open roof and many windows over the blackened broken walls, became, however, my chief object of admiration.

I trust the good citizens of Quebec, having been afforded this opportunity, will erect a pile here worthy the site; a castellated building would perhaps be the style best adapted to this, and would come well in with the river line of defence, whose strong curtain runs parallel with the terrace, from which the windows of the Chateau look perpendicularly upon the streets two hundred feet below.

At Wolfe's Cove we approached close under the wooded heights, where we took in tow a second brig; then sheering out, began painfully to ascend the current with a dead head-breeze, and having these monsters yawing about on each quarter.

Our Titan steamer groaned, and heaved, and strained, as though but sulkily submitting to this added charge, and doing the master's work, in the spirit of Caliban, under the spell of a higher intelligence.

Tuesday, 9th.—Find that during the night our progress continued painfully slow; indeed, only that the wind lulled, we could not have stemmed the rapids; but when above the Richelieu we made better way, arriving at Trois Rivières about noon, with a fine fair breeze blowing up the stream.

The brigs were here cast loose to make the best of their way whilst we took in a supply of wood. Meantime, Captain W——s and I took a stroll about the town, which in itself is pretty, and agreeably situated. All this day the breeze continued favourable, and consequently our pace was tolerable. How long we should have been with a head-wind, it is impossible to say.

Wednesday, 10th.—I was this morning on deck by four A.M. and was well repaid for my early rising. We were some thirty miles distant from Montreal, as our pilot informed me: the land on either side was low, but soft, verdant, and well wooded, with the prettiest-looking villages dotted along from point to point. At times, three or four of these, with their triple-spired churches, were at once visible as we slowly steered through groups of islets of every form and size, but all of a colour of unequalled purity.

I cannot wonder at the rapturous language used in the description of these places by the sea-wearied discoverers who viewed them for the first time in the summer season; for even I, with no such spur to imagination, find it difficult to stick to sober prose when recalling the luxuriant growth of these isles of the far North. It would appear as though Nature, aware that the possession of beauty is with them extremely limited, had resolved, by way of compensation, to render their short-lived loveliness surpassing.

At last was seen, high towering over all, the rounded top of the fairest of the hundred isles of the St. Lawrence, St. Helen's; and, shortly after, the glittering domes of the city of Montreal gave warning that our up-voyage was drawing to a happy conclusion.

Thursday, 11th.—This morning took a farewell stroll over St. Helen's, which, on a surface of a mile in length by half a mile in breadth, has all the attractions Nature could devise scattered with a most liberal hand. It is shadowed and scented by a hundred sorts of odorous shrubs and flowers. The groves are filled with birds of beautiful plumage; the graceful blue bird, the enamelled hummer, and the cardinal, with his hood of the brightest scarlet, are for ever on the wing in pursuit of the shad-fly. The pert woodpecker climbs the trees, and along the shores sits the contemplative heron, watching the rapids flowing by, which are, during certain seasons, absolutely alive with fish.

In short, I cannot imagine a more perfect summer abode in such a climate. The aromatic air wafted into one's window on a morning here, made it a delight to open it. The chamber I occupied looked out upon the grassy rampart and over it, affording a sight of the city in its best aspect, and the noble river dividing us from it. Close opposite to my window was a winding path, completely shaded, which led from the fort to the little harbour where the island fleet lies moored; which fleet consisted at this time of an Indian canoe, the soldiers' large market-boat, and the officers' cutter. Some one or other of these were almost constantly on the wing between isle and main; and really it was worth while, once a day, to take a sniff of the fishy atmosphere of the hot city, in order fully to appreciate the advantages of the cool pure air of la belle île.

At four P.M. after having taken leave of my island friends, whose attentions had rendered my stay here so delightful, I set off with my old comrade W——w, and Mr. E——r, who had decided upon accompanying me as far on my way as St. John's. We found the La Prairie steamboat quite crowded with the farmers of the continent, on their way home from the market of Montreal: amongst these were some French; but the majority was composed of lowland Scotch and Irish, with a fair proportion of Highlanders.

During our short passage I passed to and fro, below and above, amongst these various specimens of my fellow-subjects, but was at last fairly brought up by the look and gestures of a couple of men engaged in close argument.

The one was a person well stricken in years, with fine white hair straying beneath the broad leaf of his decent beaver hat; he had a keen small eye, well covered by a pair of thick grey eyebrows; with features much wrinkled, but full of intelligence: he was slightly humpbacked, and otherwise bent by the weight of years.

His antagonist was a low, square-built fellow, with a set of blunt features, quick sparkling little eyes, a ruddy complexion, and a broad low brow, over which was set, with a somewhat jaunty air, a blue bonnet. Both were evidently Scotch; the younger disputant, by his high shrill tone and peculiar pronunciation, a true Celt.

I soon discovered "the Glasgow body" was engaged in giving a lecture to the sturdy mountaineer upon the absolute folly of seeking to uphold exclusively the Gaelic tongue: the Highlander, who was head-vestryman in his parish, having, as it came out, lately advertised for a clergyman who could officiate in that ancient language. It may readily be supposed that between such disputants the argument was a warm one.

The Glasgow elder, slow, precise, and very energetic withal, insisted that the land they stood upon was no strangers' land; that they were not expected, like the Israelites of old whilst in a condition of bondage, to hold themselves a people apart; that the English tongue and English laws were lawfully theirs; and that those were the wisest men and the best subjects who learned the first in order that they might neither be ignorant nor forgetful of the last.

The hielan' man admitted, frigidly enough I thought, the present supremacy of English law and language, but insisted that the congregation upon their settlement absolutely needed a Gaelic pastor to preach the word, and no other; for, although all of them understood the Gaelic, full one half knew no word of English!

"More shame for them!" exclaimed the Glasgow man; "what for don't they learn it? Puir prejudiced bodies that they are!"

"What for no?" retorted quickly the nettled Highlander: "why, because they just prefer their ain: and I can't say I wonder at it all; for I know baith, and must aver, Mr. Dalgleish, that my preference is wholly for ta Gaelic, which is a finer language, and a petter and older language, and of a petter and an older nation by far."

"Hoot tout!" coolly responded old Glasgow; "Ye're just daft on thae points, Duncan M'Nab: why, man alive! yer' nae people at hame, much less here, where you are as the least plash flung from the paddle-wheel below us to the braid stream on which it drops to mingle with its waters; a lesson ye may tak profit by. Ye've neither country, nor laws, nor government that owns yer tongue on the whole face o' God's airth, if ever ye had either; whilst the laws and language o' England are at this time universal! ay, sir, universal, or at least mair sae than any one tongue ever yet was since the Lord made men strangers to their fellows at the confounding o' Babel."

"Ta Gaelic was spoken before tat day!" sharply bolted out M'Nab, "and was spoken since tat day by a bigger nation tan England ever was, or ever will be! Tak tat, now, Mr. Dalgleish!"

"Well now, see, Duncan M'Nab," continued the cooler Lowlander, in a tone provokingly unmoved; "that, I'm thinking, must be a matter o' doubt, rather than well-authenticated history; and before I either anger ye by contradicting it, or wrang my ain sense by allowing you the benefit o 't, I'll just seek counsel o' this gentleman, who evidently has a feelin' in our argument, although he taks no part in it by words. What say ye, sir?" he added, directly appealing to me; "shall we allow M'Nab's folk the credit o' havin' given a language to the world more universal than the English tongue?"

"I think you may, my good friend," replied I, thus engaged to speak, and in no way willing to spoil the controversy; "and this without losing any advantage by such an admission, seeing, that if the Gaelic were once so general, I don't think it a matter of credit or congratulation to its people that it is now extinguished, or only kept alive by the patriotic prejudices of a few clansmen in the Hielans and by the ignorance of my own countrymen in portions of Ireland."

"Ha!" cries Glasgow; "that's a hit, sir, and one that didna' occur to my mind! Now, M'Nab, how say ye to this? Why the deevil didna' ye keep yer ground that time ye had it all yer ain way, and no be lettin' strangers win it clean frae ye?"

"Ta' Gaelic was ta language o' Wallace and o' Bruce, and of Cyrus, who came before them," urged the Gael, hotly, "and who will say thae were easy to beat?"

"Who ever said that a Hielanman was easy to beat?" here cannily put in Glasgow: "not that I altogether allow Cyrus, or Wallace, or Bruce to ha' bin Hielanders; though I won't say that they didna' speak Gaelic: but fac's are ill to argue down, and the real fac' o' this matter is, M'Nab, that here Lowlander and Hielander are a' alike English, and it is not our duty alane, but our interest, to foregoe all thae hame prejudices, that have wrought us harm enough, and lang enough, without importing them here, to be left as an evil legacy to our children to keep them as strangers to ane anither."

"Look here, Mr. Dalgleish," demanded M'Nab, "do you admit your belief in election and free grace?"

At this I fairly bolted off the course; but in a few minutes after, whilst preparing to land at La Prairie, my old Glasgow-man sidled along by me, with an inquiry as to my pursuit and my name, in order, he added, that he might remember our pleasant argument, whispering in my ear as we separated,

"Hielanmen are aye weel enough in some particulars, sir; but they're just fairly eat up wi' pride and superstition, and fu' o' prejudices. At hame or abroad it's aye the like; they're of a race that can only be improved by amalgamation and time. I wish you a very pleasant passage hame, sir, and a good evening to you!"

Returning his civility, I was here separated from my elder. In about half an hour after I was about to quit the hotel, in the extra we had engaged for St. John's, when my Hielander, whose warm heart I had won by some honest commendation of his native country, ran up to me to shake hands, saying with a loud laugh,

"Ta old man was a good man, and a well-educated man; but a Glasgow is always a Glasgow; sell his web or his waens for ta money, and carein' as little for either kin or country as does ta cuckoo. God bless you, and if ever you should see Ben Nevis again, think on Duncan M'Nab that will see it no more."

Away ran the active Hielander, after his party, who were proceeding by the shore road, and in a few minutes my companions and myself were jolting at the rate of three miles and a half an hour over the ruts of La Prairie.

It is really surprising to observe how these sons of the Celt adhere to their native tongue, and preserve every early custom that is in any way practicable.

In the mountains of North Carolina there exists a colony of Sutherland Highlanders, two-thirds of whom speak no English, and who possess negroes who only know Gaelic; even within thirty miles of Philadelphia I stumbled upon a family in the third generation, or rather I ought to say, found the three generations together. The children tottering before the doors had, as had their fathers before them, a duck-puddle to wade in, with a dung-heap "quite convanient" to sun themselves upon in common with the pigs and fowls, and they were all lisping the Gaelic tongue with the most unsophisticated ignorance of any other whatever.

On one or two occasions I considered our present journey about to be concluded by an overturn into the canal, along whose bank we rolled most critically, as we neared our harbour; we were, however, landed in due time all safe, and procured a very good supper.

Friday, 12th.—Left St. John's with a couple of gentlemen in canoe for Île aux Nois, there to abide the coming of the steam-boat. The heat was intense, but our canoe-men were a pair of lusty old lads, Canadians, and they pulled us up stream merrily at the rate of six miles an hour, keeping close beneath the trees growing out of the lake, here a narrow channel merely.

We found Fort Lennox garrisoned by a party of the 32nd regiment, under the command of Major Swinburne, who was resident here with his family. The fort is regularly and well built, and the defences are in excellent order, save that the facing of the ditch, being of wood, is tumbling in at most points, to the great danger of the foundation. As this place is considered worthy a garrison, it would be as well that this ditch should be faced with stone, in a way becoming the other defences, all of which appear to be built in the best manner, and are in good preservation.

At three o'clock P.M. the steamer was announced in sight, and we hastened to the little wharf where the captain always lands to show his clearance; a matter of form which is strictly observed.

The inhabitants, at least the civilians, were all assembled on the wharf, for this arrival was the event of the day. The little group was composed of two or three officers' ladies, with their families. Amongst these I noticed one pretty black-eyed English girl, who I fancied looked after the boat as it left the shore, and was whirled alongside the steamer, with a mournful glance, wherein I read the word home written as plainly as I ever read it in a book.

"I wish you were returning to your home, my sweet girl," replied I, in the same language, "and that I might be your escort; you should be well and honestly guarded, at all events."

In a moment I was for ever sundered from this object of my commiseration; yet had my eyes only been as expressive as hers, all I have set down here might have been read therein.

Away we sped along the winding lake, turning from shore to shore, now visiting one pretty landing, now another; a mode of proceeding that is, amidst such scenery, perfectly delightful.

Saturday, 13th.—Breakfasted at Whitehall, and took the middle line to Albany, traversing a wild sterile country, over bad roads and worse bridges, until we reached Sandy-hill, where the noble Hudson bursts upon the view.

From this point to Albany the river is never lost sight of; and a grateful sight the beautiful stream afforded to a sun-dried, half-smothered traveller, to turn from the dusty track and contemplate its cool waters and pleasant groves.

I sincerely pity the heart to which a drive, at such a season, through this valley of the Hudson, brings no gladness. Talk of the beauties of the river from New-York to Albany, when, after all, it is here they are to be found; here where its waters are seen flowing between banks at times richly wooded, towering high and bold; then sinking suddenly, as they sweep for miles a continuous line of natural meadows, whose rich fringe of waving grass drinks for ever of the passing stream.

In many of these places the country puts on a park-like appearance, and you travel by hill and dale and glance down trim-looking slopes, dotted with irregular clumps of ornamental trees of the finest foliage and of all kinds, from the graceful silver ash and the umbrageous butter-nut, to the tall sombre-looking pine, and the wide-spreading elm.

The river itself is as changeful in its aspect as the lovely country through which it flows; in places its whole breadth is occupied by a stony bed over which it leaps along, forming for a mile or so a gentle uniform rapid. At the next turn it is seen freed from all impediment, moving majestically and slowly through deep-cut banks, or circling round some little islet won from the neighbouring plain.

During our journey we crossed the canal which runs near the river frequently, and the Hudson itself twice, by fine covered bridges.

We also passed through several pretty towns; Schuylersville, a beautiful romantic site; Mechanicsville, a bustling thriving place, with a considerable population, and where I noticed a great number of young girls of an appearance remarkably neat. It was Saturday afternoon, labour was passed for the week, and the street and neighbourhood presented an appearance most creditable to the operatives who are here congregated in a lovely neighbourhood.

By the time we reached Waterford it was dark: here we crossed the Hudson, near the Cohoos' Falls; and at Troy were ferried over, back again, coach, horses, a waggon, and a couple of oxen, in a schow, or flat boat, by torchlight.

From our last landing-place to Albany runs a well Macadamized road of noble proportions, and on this our wearied horses appeared to gain fresh courage, for they trotted along nimbly, setting me down at the door of the Eagle shortly after midnight.

Sunday, 14th.—Down the Hudson to New York, where I rested for a few days, intending to embark from this port; but finding the ships of every line crowded, and likely to be crowded for some time to come, I decided, in company with an excellent voyaging companion, who had resolved upon sharing my fortunes, to proceed to Philadelphia, and sail from that place, in the Algonquin packet-ship of the 20th inst. which promised equal comforts with fewer candidates; the length of the Delaware making Philadelphia less popular as a packet-station.