Picturesque Quebec | Page 5

into my soul, that my
spirit fell prostrate before it, and I melted involuntarily into tears."
Such the poetic visions which were awakened in the poetic mind of the
brilliant author of "_Roughing it, in the Bush._" Charles Dickens also
had his say in this matter, on his visit to Quebec, in May 1842, where
he was the guest of the President of the Literary and Historical Society,
Dr. John Charlton Fisher:--
"The impression made upon the visitor by this Gibraltar of America, its
giddy heights, its citadel suspended, as it were, in the air; its
picturesque steep streets and frowning gateways; and the splendid
views which burst upon the eye at every turn, is at once unique and
lasting. It is a place not to be forgotten or mixed up in the mind with
other places, or altered for a moment in the crowd of scenes a traveller
can recall. Apart from the realities of this most picturesque city, there
are associations clustering about it which would make a desert rich in
interest. The dangerous precipice along whose rocky front Wolfe and
his brave companions climbed to glory; the Plains of Abraham, where
he received his mortal wound; the fortress so chivalrously defended by
Montcalm; and his soldier's grave, dug for him when yet alive, by the
bursting of a shell, are not the least among them, or among the gallant
incidents of history. That is a noble monument too, and worthy of two
great nations, which perpetuates the memory of both brave Generals,
and on which their names are jointly written.
"The city is rich in public institutions and in Catholic churches and
charities, but it is mainly in the prospect from the site of the Old
Government House and from the Citadel, that its surpassing beauty lies.

The exquisite expanse of country, rich in field and forest,
mountain-heights and water, which lies stretched out before the view,
with miles of Canadian villages, glancing in long white streaks, like
veins along the landscape; the motley crowd of gables, roofs and
chimney tops in the old hilly town immediately at hand; the beautiful St.
Lawrence sparkling and flashing in the sunlight; and the tiny ships
below the rock from which you gaze, whose distant rigging looks like
spiders' webs against the light, while casks and barrels on their decks
dwindle into toys, and busy mariners become so many puppets; all this
framed by a sunken window [1] in the fortress and looked at from the
shadowed room within, forms one of the brightest and most enchanting
pictures that the eye can rest upon." (Dickens' American Notes.)
A distinguished French _littérateur_, fresh from the sunny banks of the
Seine, thus discourses anent the Ancient capital; we translate:--
"Few cities," says M. Marmier, [2] "offer as many striking contrasts as
Quebec, a fortress and a commercial city together, built upon the
summit of a rock as the nest of an eagle, while her vessels are
everywhere wrinkling the face of the ocean; an American city inhabited
by French colonists, governed by England, and garrisoned with Scotch
regiments; [3] a city of the middle ages by most of its ancient
institutions, while it is submitted to all the combinations of modern
constitutional government; an European city by its civilization and its
habits of refinement, and still close by, the remnants of the Indian tribes
and the barren mountains of the north, a city of about the same latitude
as Paris, while successively combining the torrid climate of southern
regions with the severities of an hyperborean winter; a city at the same
time Catholic and Protestant, where the labours of our (French)
missions are still uninterrupted alongside of the undertakings of the
Bible Society, and where the Jesuits driven out of our own country
(France) find a place of refuge under the aegis of British Puritanism!"
An American tourist thus epitomises the sights:--
"As the seat of French power in America until 1759, the great fortress
of English rule in British America, and the key of the St. Lawrence,
Quebec must possess interest of no ordinary character for well-

informed tourists. To the traveller, there are innumerable points and
items vastly interesting and curious--the citadel and forts of Cape
Diamond, with their impregnable ramparts that rival Gibraltar in
strength and endurance against siege, the old walls of the city and their
gates each of which has its legend of war and bloody assault and
repulse, the plains of Abraham, every foot of which is commemorated
with blood and battle; Wolfe's monument, where the gallant and brave
soldier died with a shout of victory on his lips, the Martello towers,
with their subterranean communications with the citadel; the antique
churches, paintings, and all their paraphernalia, treasures, and
curiosities that are religiously preserved therein, the falls of