Montreal—Quebec—Niagara—Toronto.

Although the hotels we had visited had prepared us for a good deal of magnificence in upholstery, the rooms of the Windsor at Montreal fairly astonished us. There is nothing in the hotel way in London comparable to the house, except perhaps the Grand at Charing Cross, and if adjectives must be used, I could say the Windsor was the grander of the two. Our rooms were almost too beautiful. The Duke's room was robed in purple satin. Lord Stafford was lodged in a bridal suite, decked in Star of India blue satin, with doves and cupids all over the apartments generally. My bedroom was an arrangement in delicately flowered amber satin. I hope Montreal will live up to the Windsor Hotel.

How miserably small this world is becoming. "Ruling the roast" in the banqueting rooms of the hotel was O'Hara, haply descendant of a kingly race (for, as O'Connell declared long ago, "most of the descendants of Irish kings are engaged on the coal quay; and when they're not there, they generally don't make so much"), but certainly for years the trusted aide-de-camp in personal service to Archbishop Whately and to Lord Strathnairn; at least, if he was not, I am not to blame for this averment.

May 10th.—At 11 o'clock, Mr. Hickson, Manager of the Trunk Railway, the Mayor of Montreal, and many irresistible citizens, came to the hotel, and carried off the Duke and some of his friends in carriages to visit the Victoria Bridge, and other objects of attraction; among which, of course, was the hill above the city, whence a very fine view can be obtained in good weather. But this day was not one favourable to sight-seeing. It rained in torrents in the early morning, and there was, moreover, an exceedingly dense mist. Some of us were a little indisposed. Perhaps the incessant motion by rail and by wheel, and the agitated existence which it had been our lot to lead since our arrival, had something to do with it; so it was that several of the party preferred to remain in the seclusion of their rooms till lunch-time and later, when they were tempted to try the St. James's Club, of which they had been made honorary members.

Ay de mi! How many years is it since I resigned myself doubtingly, but as it seemed necessarily, to the acceptance of Free Trade as the one thing in economics needful for the world. And now I am in a dominion where the doctrine is regarded as a melancholy heresy, and its professors as all but——. "But for protection, Sir," shouted out a vigorous Scotchman, full of figures and faith, "I tell you there would have been no manufactures in Canada; and more, there would have been no population to work our fields! In protection lies our only chance of successful struggle with the States." "Don't go away with that ideey!" exclaims another Scotch philosopher. "I can show you to a dee-monstration that Canady wad bee in a far finer pos-eeshun but for protection, than she has at this pree-sent." Between Canada and the United States there must always be, in all probability, a keen competition in bidding for the traffic of the great quantities of produce which pass down from the upper lakes to the sea. It was natural that we should hear a good deal about a question of very great importance to the well-being of both countries—the water communications from the North-west. There has been a discussion going on, too, respecting the possibility of sending cargoes down the lakes without transhipment, and so out to sea and to Europe; but it is found, practically, that the cargo must be transhipped. The question arises where that operation is best performed. The Welland Canal Company is, at the present moment, about being enlarged; but the shipbuilders on the upper lakes are enlarging their ships too, so that the lakes are covered with craft which could not enter the canal. Grain is carried to Buffalo and the Erie Canal in very large ships which cannot navigate the Welland; and the extra expense of transhipping from these large bottoms is more than compensated by the farming of the grain and other advantages at Buffalo. The Canadian Government have reduced their tolls, and have exhibited an anxiety which is too well justified for their share of the trade. When they ask, however, for the fulfilment of the Treaty of Washington, by which they are entitled to "the freedom of the canals of the United States," they are met with the mocking rejoinder that the United States Government has no power to make the State of New York respect Federal treaties, and that they cannot compel any State in the Union to open its waterways free to foreigners. The solution of many of the contentions between Americans and Canadians, however, may possibly prove to be found in the Mississippi, where barges now are finding their way down to New Orleans, at an average in nine days, loaded with corn, which can be brought from St. Louis for 6 cents, while it costs 22 cents and upwards to carry corn from Chicago to New York. The people of Chicago start at once to open a canal from Rock Island on the Mississippi to Hennepin on the river Illinois; and no doubt each move on one side will be met by a counter-move on the other, and the rivalry between Canada and the United States will be repeated and accentuated in the efforts of the great cities like Buffalo, Cleveland, Toledo, Chicago, St. Louis, &c., south of the lakes, to secure as much as possible of the carrying trade, the through traffic, and the consequent profits. I escaped eventually from the clangor virorum, and had a stroll through the town with Lord Stafford, in the course of which I dropped in on my old quarters at the "St. Lawrence," where the host Hogan, racy of the soil, and full of sport, made me doubt if twenty years could have passed since Augustus Anson and I had been his guests. He was charged with reminiscences, and among them recent memories, solidified in photographs, of an excursion for fishing and other purposes, in which Lord "Bewfore"—who was, I believe, his Grace of Beaufort—was introduced. If any one needs a good introduction to fish and hunt in Montreal, I recommend Mr. Hogan with modest confidence.

After an early dinner, we drove to the quay, where the steamer "Montreal" was prepared for all comers, and after some delay, made up her (or its) mind to start for Quebec. It is a mistake to go down the river at this time of year in the hope of enjoying the scenery. Darkness set in on the river very soon after we embarked, and there were no sights on shore to look at. Now and then the local authorities pointed out to us sites of towns, and occasionally through the trees we caught a glimmer of fire, where little circles of bright light dotted the clouds, and indicated the hamlets. On board the steamer there was a senator of a very pronounced national colour, or stripe, or school, whatever the term may be, who considered that the politics of the world revolved round the narrow area in which, according to him, Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Parnell were contending for mastery; and it was not difficult to discover on which side he thought right, if not might, was placed. As he was speaking, there came from the depths between decks a strain of high-pitched speech in French, interrupted by shouts of laughter, and descending the companion to ascertain the cause, I perceived an Indian—charged, I am sorry to say, with the fire-water of the pale-faces—haranguing the passengers on the miseries and misfortunes of his race with great volubility—nay, eloquence. Whenever he made a good hit the Canadians laughed, but when one of the ship's officers seized the orator by the arm and led him away, it was plain the white man had the best of the argument. Poor wretch! Demosthenes could not save Athens from the Macedonian.

By selecting the night steamer from Montreal to Quebec, however, we succeeded in preventing an undue strain on our faculties in the way of admiring scenery. What sights we escaped! what objects we shunned! All night through there were stoppages at unknown stations. The people trooped in and trooped out, and doors were banged on board. To sleep was not facile. And so it was that it was not with clear, composed minds we awoke on the morning of May 11th, just as the bluffs of Quebec were looming in the distance, and in an hour more were preparing to grapple with the wharf under the Citadel, where the Governor-General was already visible waiting, with a moderate cortege, to receive his uncle. There was something else waiting for us too! Scarcely had we got into the open carriages ere a deluge of rain—just as if the St. Lawrence was tumbling out of the skies—began to fall, and, as the ascent to the Citadel is at an angle of 45 degrees or thereabouts, it was not possible to evade the tornado by rapid driving. So we climbed the hill in a waterspout, and were right glad to get under the shelter of the hospitable roof of the Queen's Legate in her good Dominion of Canada. The fires in our rooms were felt to be needed even this 11th of May.

The Citadel is now but an historic site, and has no potency as a fortified place, but Lord Lorne has done much to make the quarters a little better than the rough barrack they formerly were and to improve the accommodation. The apartments are comfortable, absolutely luxurious in their fittings compared with the style of former days, and there are evidences of refined taste in the reception-rooms, which remind one of the illustrious lady whose temporary absence when we were in Canada was much regretted, and whose presence when she returns will be hailed with delight.

When I was last here, Quebec had all the appearance of a large garrison town. It was a time of trouble. I think two battalions of Guards, a couple of regiments of foot, and a strong force of artillery were quartered in and about the city, and the citadel and forts were militarily occupied. The cities of Canada were filled with refugees from the northern States, valiant men and fair women, soldiers like Magruder, and gentlemen like Corbin, whose souls were with the South. They were waiting for the hour of vengeance and victory, for a change in the tide; and they raged exceedingly against the Federals, and reviled Lincoln and Seward and all their ways with the animosity which is engendered by civil war. Americans in Canada spoke more bitter things of the American Government in our common English tongue at that time than were ever perhaps said or written by any people in the world. Now all is changed; the refugees have disappeared, not a single red-coat is to be seen. I am told that there is much to regret in the policy which has handed over the defences of Canada so entirely to the Canadians, and that no one is pleased, but of this I know nothing. The only people who are said to be happy at the withdrawal of the English are the young Canadian gentlemen of French race, who thought that the red-coats were in too much favour at balls and parties, and who are not sorry to be rid of such formidable rivals. But there is a very large and well-appointed force in the Dominion—Canada has an army of her own to be proud of. The Canadian artillery whom I saw could not be distinguished without a very close inspection from the Royal Artillery, and a more serviceable, soldierly-looking detachment than that which presented arms to the Governor-General as he passed to-day, and which paraded on the ground of the Citadel later on, I never beheld. In the forenoon the Duke went out with the Governor to visit the Lieutenant-Governor, M. Robitaille, and when the rain ceased I went down, literally down—and rambled about the old city, which seemed more French and less English than ever. There was a dinner party in the evening, at which the Lieutenant-Governor, the members of the Dominion Government, and as many as the table could hold of distinguished persons and their wives who were in Quebec, were present. And then came a reception, at which as many as could possibly be got into the rather limited suite of rooms came to pay their respects to his Excellency and to see the Duke.

On the 12th we paid an exceedingly interesting visit to the Ursuline Convent. Those who have friends and relatives within the walls are only permitted access to them when the Governor-General or some high dignitary, such as the Lieutenant-Governor, inspects the establishment. In one of the spacious rooms were arrayed the good sisters and the pupils, dressed in charming simplicity, all in virgin white, with bouquets of rare flowers. A young lady delivered an address of welcome to Lord Lorne and to the Duke, which was in very good taste, although it was not unstudied eloquence; and in spite of the natural nervousness of a young girl on such an occasion, every word of the oration was uttered with becoming emphasis, and accompanied by gestures which were easy and graceful. When the address had been delivered, there was a little song of welcome and "God Save the Queen," very prettily sung, and the girls presented bouquets to the strange visitors, and a few words were spoken by the Governor-General and by the Duke in acknowledgment; then, escorted by the sisters and the clergy, the party went over the convent. The skull of Montcalm is the sacred relic of the Ursulines, and is more reverenced by the good priests, I think, than any living head. The Latin epitaph (the work of the Academy, I believe) is very fine. There are many people living under the shadow of the citadel who take greater pride in the victory of the Chevalier de LÉvis over General Murray, which is commemorated by the Napoleon statue on the plains where Montcalm was defeated by Wolfe, than they do in the triumph of the latter. Why should it not be so? Blood will ever be thicker than water, and that is a fact to be remembered in Quebec as well as in other places.

After an agreeable hour or two with the devoted ladies who were to be shut in within the walls without seeing a soul except their pupils and the clergy who attend the convent, until the next visit of a Governor-General, we departed, and walked down to the river, where we embarked on board the "Druid" for the Falls of Montmorency, the Harbour Works, the Graving Docks, and the Princess Louise Embankment, as to which I have no novel observation to offer, although my note-book is full of facts and figures connected with Quebec, beginning with Montcalm and Wolfe, and its improvements, ending with the new docks. One thing I may remark, that "the Gibraltar of America" seems to rely on moral force for its defence, so far as artillery goes, for the armament of the works is by no means suitable to modern warfare.

There is still a fine mediÆval Catholic "old France" air about Quebec which makes it as refreshing to come upon (not to the nose always), after a string of American cities, as a good old picture is among a gallery of Dusseldorf paintings.

The exceeding heat of the last few days had caused our excellent friend Mr. Knowles great inconvenience (and his friends had shared it with him), but the unpleasant conviction was gradually growing stronger in our minds that it would not be prudent for him to undertake the rapid and protracted journey on which we were about to engage. When he arrived in Quebec he had come to the same conclusion, and to our great sorrow, we felt obliged to admit that he was adopting the wisest course in taking his passage in one of the fine steamers of the Allan Line, direct from the St. Lawrence to Liverpool. He arranged accordingly to sail on the Saturday—the day after we left Quebec. Among the causes for regret at quitting this interesting city, none was felt more than the necessity for saying adieu to one whose close observation, sound judgment, and practical knowledge had rendered his companionship so useful, just as his amiable qualities had made him a most agreeable fellow-traveller. Our party was doomed to suffer still another reduction. Lord Stafford felt that the pressure of his Parliamentary duties, at a time when most important measures were under discussion, would force him to return to London without visiting the Western States.

At 4 o'clock the Governor-General, attended by Colonel de Winton and others of his personal suite, came to the station with his uncle and the party who were bound for Montreal. The kindness of the General Manager of the Pennsylvania Railway, Mr. Thompson, had followed us into Canada, and the President's car, with special carriages, was awaiting us at Quebec. And so we glided out of the station, amidst the cheers of the small crowd of friends, and the waving handkerchiefs of the ladies who had been good enough to see us off, and the fire of fog-signals in lieu of artillery. We were bound to assist at a function that evening, and the special train was tolerably well filled by members of the Legislature and of the Council, and many others who were going to witness the first trial of the electric light under the auspices of the Canadian Electric Light Company, at the depot of the Q. M. O. & O. Railway at Hochelaga. The Premier, Mr. Chapleau, the Provincial Secretary, Mr. Paquet, and other ministers were in the train. The Duke, to do honour to the occasion, and to get a little fresh air and keep his hand in perhaps, drove the engine from Quebec to Three Rivers, a distance of seventy-eight miles, which, according to the Montreal papers, is the first occasion upon which a Duke drove a train in the Dominion, and probably will be the last.

It certainly was not owing to slow driving that we were late, but it so happened that instead of arriving at 9 P.M. we did not reach Hochelaga until 10 o'clock, and then it was to find a great and rather a noisy if good-humoured crowd assembled, and the banquet, which afforded the occasion for the display of the electric light, laid out in the hall of the station. Three large tables were already occupied, and the impatience visible on the faces of the company was, according to one of my friends, very much intensified by the effect of the white light, which cast deep shadows over their hungry looks. But not only was there supper to be eaten, but speeches to be made. The Mayor was irresistible. He got the Duke on his legs, although the latter candidly told the company that he would rather drive an engine through a deep drift of snow than make a speech. There were very telling orations in French and English, and Mr. Chapleau made an excellent address, and there were French-Canadian glees and choruses by the company. Not to be wondered at was it if after such a long day and night we all retired with alacrity to seek rest in our quarters at the comfortable and magnificent hotel Windsor, to which we were once more assigned.

Saturday, 14th.—We were roused up soon after 6 o'clock in the morning, for we had to take the early train to La Chine in order to "enjoy" the descent of the famous "rapids" in the steamer which makes the run down to the city. It was a lovely morning, and we had a delightful run up the left bank, and charming views of Montreal and the "Victoria Bridge." There is nothing in America finer than this Canadian town and its grand frontage of masonry extending for miles along the shores of the lake, the varied architecture of its noble buildings, and the wooded heights dotted with fair villas. We got on board our steamer and shot "the Rapids" as thousands do every year. It was one sensation more. The water was a little too high, however, to give us an idea of all its terrors. Very exciting were the preparations for the committal of the craft, which began to show signs of friskiness as we approached the shoot, to the tyranny of the waters. Steering gear was prepared, extra tackles put on the apparatus, the helm was called on to aid the wheel, four men threw themselves on spoke and rope, and we left off talking about the price of corn and the possible cost per bushel at Liverpool and cognate matters, as we felt the river had got hold of us, and as we looked down from the deck on the boiling swirl and seething eddies which heralded our coming to the broken water. "And the boldest held his breath for a time" as the boat took her header. If anything were to give way?—if the men at the helm did something they ought not to do? A Thames canoe-man who has braved Boulter's Lock in its fury has been moved just as we were—all but the market women, who went on knitting, and the priest, who never raised his eyes from his "Hours"—and the navigating habituÉs. And there, as with all the power of steam and science we were battling with the evil power of the river, there shot out from the shore a tiny craft with a single Indian sitting bolt upright and keeping his course with his paddles through the tortured flood. "Does he mean to commit suicide?" "Not he. He's going to the other side, I guess. These Injuns don't drown easy." I would not have taken his place for all the silver sculls that ever were won, nor would I advise any winner of them to essay the same. In five minutes it was all over—that is, the worst part of the Rapids. It was rather annoying to be told that there has been no loss of life in the many years the "shooting" of them has been going on. We got back to the town in time for breakfast at the hotel, and then there was a good deal to be done before our departure for Toronto. An excursion about Montreal, "over the hills and far away," engaged the attention and the time of most of my friends for the day; but I remained in all the forenoon, and only went out for an hour before dinner "to take a last fond look" at the well-remembered scene of the hospitalities and repose I enjoyed in the winter of 1861 in the house of the kindest and best of hosts.

Yes! "And there's rosemary—that's for remembrance." The travellers come back delighted with their excursion—to dine early, and start in the special train at dusk, attended by many friends. But the programme must be attended to.

In Canada, where the Scotch form a great and influential part of the most thriving community, the Duke of Sutherland was, of course, received with enthusiasm, and the interest in his visit was not diminished by the fact that he is uncle to a Governor who, succeeding one of the ablest and most popular administrators that ever crossed the seas, has managed to wear the mantle of his predecessor with dignity and grace, and to secure an extraordinary measure of respect and goodwill from all classes of the Queen's subjects in this vast Dominion. There are villages peopled by the descendants of the Sutherland immigrants, who thought it a hard fate to be deported from their bleak hills and watery glens. Their fathers lived long enough to recognise with gratitude the benefits of the policy which they resented so bitterly; and the descendants of these Sutherland men are now prosperous and happy, a credit to the old country and to the clan.

Sunday, 15th.—We awoke from our repose in the train at a siding near Prescott in the early morning—looked out, and, lo, there was Lake Ontario clouded in the rain-sweep and all the landscape shrouded with mist. Presently, at 7.30, the steamer comes up, glistening with wet, and waddles to the wharf. It had been arranged that we were to go from Prescott to Kingston by the Lake and then take the train on to Toronto, and we went aboard accordingly, and found places reserved and every preparation made for us; but the fog was thickening, and as it was possible that the steamer might not start, or if she started at all that she might be brought up all standing in the Lake by reason of the weather, we resolved to go on by train. At 9.30 A.M. the special started, and ran all day without any incident worthy of notice. Stay, ungrateful that I am! Is it possible to forget the surprise at the Coburg Station, where the Grand Trunk Railway Company, to break our journey, had prepared a banquet, set forth with flowers and served by the nicest people possible? Somehow or other our day was a coup manquÉ, and we hustled through the country in a vacuous way, with an outlook of scraggy pine woods and ragged clearings with black fang-like stumps in the midst, and towns innominate. The rain never ceased, and at 6 o'clock, when we arrived at Toronto and took shelter in the Queen's Hotel, where Captain Geddes, aide-de-camp to the Lieutenant-Governor, the Mayor, Mr. McMurrich, and Alderman Walker saw the Duke and made arrangements for the morrow, it was falling in torrents; but Toronto seen under the most disadvantageous circumstances was voted to be very surprising, for my friends had heard so much of the immobility if not backsliding of Canada, that they were not prepared for such very fine buildings and such a great array of wharves and quays on the lake, and the great fleet of craft alongside them. The hotel, too, was in very good keeping with all the surroundings. Still we were not happy. Those Montreal people had disturbed the minds of some of my companions with statistics bearing on the price of wheat, and the Auditor and others were busy working away turning cents into halfpence and pounds into bushels, and calculating whether wheat could ever be sold at Liverpool for 32s. 6d. a quarter.

We were all pretty fresh after a good night's rest, when we were summoned to breakfast, and after that I had a visit from a soldier whom I parted with on the plateau of Sebastopol, where he fought and bled, and, wounded as he was, remained to the end, till his regiment (the 30th) left, now a pensioner, and not in very good case in Toronto. It is strange enough that there is no race, so far as I know, in the world which is held in the least by the ties of fosterage but one—the Irish—and even with them the relations of that sort are relaxing rapidly.

The Mayor and his friends came early and carried off the travellers to do all of Toronto that might be in the time. Some day, surely, this "place of meeting," which is, I believe, the meaning of the name, must be of greater importance than it is now, rapid as has been its growth, and great as is its present prosperity. Twice ruined by American invaders—they are very handy there across Lake Ontario—Toronto has increased in all the elements of wealth and consequence by springs and bounds, and since 1861, when I was there, its population has doubled (it numbers now 82,000 souls), and it is increasing still very rapidly. The University is worthy of a great nation—a noble Norman pile with good endowments and admirable professors, beautifully situated. I regretted much that I had not an opportunity, owing to the shortness of our visit, of seeing the venerable ex-President, Dr. McCaul, whose edition of Horace caused me infinite wailing in the time of Consul Plancus when I was at school, and who is still in perfect mental vigour.

After a visit to the Lieutenant-Governor, Mr. Beverly Robinson, the Mayor, Mr. Walker, Mr. Swinyard, Alderman Denison, &c., conducted the Duke and his party through the city, and showed them the Normal College, the Wellesley Schools, where the Duke got a half-holiday for the children, having put it to their own votes whether they would take it or not, and Osgoode Hall, where Chief Justice Spragge received them. It was only possible to skim the surface of the sights, and the perverse weather made even that slight performance unsatisfactory. President Wilson was disappointed that the visitors could not (I should have said rather that there would have been no use in their doing it under the circumstances) climb the University Tower, from which there is a beautiful prospect in fine weather. There was a lunch, and it was all the more agreeable that there were no toasts or speeches, at Government House, where the Lieutenant-Governor and Mrs. Robinson had a large party to meet the Duke. The Lieutenant-Governor is full of confidence in the future of his beautiful Province—all it needs is to be better known to respectable emigrants. There is an almost neglected island, "Manitoulin," under his sway, about which we heard many good things, that ought to be an agricultural Paradise. It is admitted to be cold, and to be badly off for communication with the rest of the world in winter time. There are many parts of the States quite as cold and as remote, and not so fertile, to which emigrants resort in swarms. Nothing is done to direct the stream to Canada. But we must be off. The "Buckingham"—the Pullman Palace—the Great Western official carriage, the Pennsylvania drawing-room carriage and baggage waggon, and Conductor Blount are waiting for us at the Great Western Station, and at 2 o'clock we resume our journey, and away by Hamilton and past the New Welland we speed, in weather which effectually prevents our seeing anything an inch beyond the panes of glass in the windows, and which gives the idea that Niagara is unduly extending its area.

The rain was still heavy and incessant when the party arrived at Niagara, but they were all bent on making the best of it, and some of them walked from the station at the Falls. They trudged manfully through mud and water along the road right up to the verge of the whirling clouds of steam-like vapour which were drifting over the Canadian side, by the edge of the gruesome gorge through which the St. Lawrence[8] runs at full speed, as if terrified by its tremendous jump, to escape into placid Ontario, and, to the immense wonder of a solitary spectator, went past the hotel. "Well," quoth he, when it went forth that "the Duke, Lord Stafford, and others were walking," "that's ree-markable! The Duke walking in the rain! I guess he don't mind being wet"—which was a fact.

Well! Niagara has disappointed no one, for a wonder! I have seen people who were quite displeased with the Falls at first, because they failed to grasp the magnitude of what they came to look at. And it must be owned the circumstances under which we beheld it were not exhilarating. Church has painted the scene; gifted beings may pour out their souls in a great cascade of words to express what they think ought to be felt by "a properly prehensile intelligence" at the sight, but no one can describe it.

I should have thought it was scarcely within the reach of the power of man to render this stupendous spectacle so irritating to the eye. But on the American side they have succeeded in making Niagara nearly hideous with smoke-stacks, factory chimneys, staring advertisements, and the affiches of quack doctors painted on the rocks. Down by the edge of the water they have put a thing with blue, red, and white bands, like an enormous humming-top, and the banks of the river are disfigured by shoots of rubbish of all sorts, dÉbris and timber, and, terrible to relate, streams of black oozy tarry matter discharged from the gasworks!

On Friday, 13th May, the landlord of the Clifton House was notified of the coming of the party. His house was closed, awaiting the opening day, but Mr. Cotham, scorning the word "impossible," and trenching on the reservations of the Sabbath, set to work, telegraphed to New York for waiters, cooks, and domestics, and papered, painted, and fixed up and dusted so energetically, that when the starving travellers were delivered at his house, they found the interior as dry, warm, and comfortable as if they had been lodged—I had nearly in my Chauvinism written in any English—but will stay in any good hotel at the height of the season. There was a splendid—that is the word—stove in the hall. It was called "The Crowning Glory," and it looked so bright and cheerful, and threw out such a pleasant glow, that it gained instant favour, and its fellows are now warming up English and Scotch interiors. Even the "Museum," inevitable adjunct of such scenes as Niagara, was open, and the good lady was quite ready to sell any number of photographs, fossils, feathers, Indian nick-nacks, warm purse belts, mocassins, and the like, but generally the establishments on the British side looked dank and mouldy. We went to bed, to the thunder of the waters and to the clatter of all the window-shutters, in the hope of a fine day to-morrow—and awoke to find it was not realised.

May 17th.—"Twenty golden years ago"—not that they, or any of them, brought gold to me—since I stood on the esplanade at Clifton House with Augustus Anson, who was fresh from the sunny South and Washington, and another Britisher on his travels! There were few visitors then, for it was winter time. The river, struggling with the bonds of frost, cleft its way between snow-covered banks, bearing triumphantly through the narrowed channel floes of ice which were churned into creamy waves and foam in the wild leap into the gulf, which now was hidden by dense clouds of vapour and drifting rain and fog—cold, raw—and I thought it was incomparably the grandest and the "purest" sight that human eye could see. Above a bright blue sky. Below all the landscape was clad in white—trees, and fields, and house-tops—no other colour anywhere visible save the green of the rushing river, almost of emerald hue, and the stark peaks of the reefs of rocks. Somehow the spectacle was not so striking now. There was only one colour, lead, everywhere, except the Humming-top and the blackened ruins of a factory over on the American side. Stay! What is that rising out of the broken water? I fixed my glass on it, and by all that is horrible I made out a monster advertisement of a quack medicine painted in gigantic letters many feet in height on a huge frame of wood above the Falls. The monster seized the moment when an ice bridge had formed from the shore to one of the rocky islands, and had sent his emissaries across to erect the hideous thing, and when the ice was swept away it was out of the power of anything but artillery to reach it. How delighted I should have been to have opened fire on the outrage!

Lord Dufferin made an effort to secure the Canadian side as public property when he was Governor-General, and the American Government had or has a Commission to the same end on their side, so that in the fulness of time the profanation of one of the most magnificent and awful of Nature's works may be averted, but I own that there are grave reasons to dread the worst. The factory is to be rebuilt at once in red brick! The gasworks are to be enlarged. The harpies are sharpening their beaks and claws. They will fight to the death for their "rights." It is a case for an Æsthetic despotism to deal with; but where is that blessing to be looked for now?

Every one went out and had a nibble of a look at the Falls early in the morning. After breakfast the Duke and the other visitors, clad in waterproofs, which soon glistened like coats of black mail, set out on their excursion, and we saw them in half an hour afterwards, when they had crossed the Suspension Bridge to the American side, descending to the edge of the basin by the snow boulders which had not yet yielded to the sunshine. I believe that every one of the party enjoyed his sight-seeing most thoroughly, each in his own way. There was, perhaps, a general impression among the serious-minded and practical that Niagara was having too much of its own way, and that it ought to be turned to better account as a reserve of force. The ultimate destiny of that great power may be safely predicted. Niagara will turn machinery.

After mid-day Lord Stafford, Mr. Wright, and myself drove from the hotel to do the sights. It is an aggravating function. There never was such a nest of harpies as is nurtured here. Talk of a Swiss valley, or Savoy, or the Lakes, or Killarney, of any place infested by the creatures who live on travellers' blood—roll them into one gigantic fee-devouring giant, with the hands and heads of Briareus, it would not be "a circumstance" to Niagara. Every step is marked by demands for dollars and cents. There must be some authority for these payments, but somehow it strikes one that Niagara, which is doing its part—the chief certainly in the play—derives no benefit from its performance, and that a set of impostors are turning its waters into silver and gold. I have no patience with such imposts. I swear, and eke I pay. American side, Canadian side, Goat Island, Burning Well—they are all the same, "Dollars and cents." How near death one may be when he is in a passion! I was walking over a bridge made of planks, from one island to another, on our way from the Burning Well—my foot slipped, and I shot off the plank on my back—No! not into the water, but on a bed of sedge.—There was no one near me. I had just crossed a similar bridge, where a similar accident would have sent me into a rush of water, wherein a few gasps and cries would have been all that could have preceded the death of the strongest swimmer in his agony. But that is a detail. There were at dinner some very clever gentlemen, whose conversation and ideas proved that go-ahead-ishness is not exclusively an American attribute. One of them destroyed Manitoulin, my Island of the Blest with a few contemptuous criticisms. It was, he declared, "a very one-horse sort of place," but he knew of an immense tract to be had almost for a song, where there were homes for thousands, all bound to prosper, &c. And then we heard a development of interesting theories of what might be done with Niagara as a motive force in the way of working spindles, machinery, electric lighting, irrigating, something like M. Victor Hugo's notion, in 'L'Homme qui Rit,' of setting the tides to work on the coast of France. All the while there was Niagara thundering away, never minding the theories, and bent on the practical business of escaping into the sea.

After an animated attack on Montcalm by some of the party, who had been reading up a guide-book in their rain-bound leisure, for allowing his English prisoners to be massacred (vide Fenimore Cooper), we broke up for the night. Next morning (April 18th) our party had to lament another departure. Mr. Knowles sailed last Saturday from Quebec, and now Lord Stafford retraces his steps to the Citadel, and thence goes homeward by way of New York, and we lose one of the best companions in the world. He bade us good-bye, and went off by the 10.30 A.M. train eastward, and half an hour later we drove over the Suspension Bridge to the station on the American side.