Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West | Page 6

has yet followed this
periodical phenomenon. But will this visitation be only confined to the
mountain range north of Quebec, where the great earthquake that
convulsed a portion of the globe in 1663 has left visible marks of its
influence, by overturning the sand-stone rocks of a tract extending over
three hundred miles?* [* "Encyclopaedia of Geography."] Quebec
contains several nunneries, for the French inhabitants are mostly
Roman catholics. The nuns are very useful to emigrants, who have
often been bountifully relieved by these charitable vestals, who employ
themselves in nursing the sick and feeding the hungry.
The inhabitants--or _habitans_, as the French Canadians are usually
termed--are an amiable, hospitable, simple people, kind in manner, and
generous in disposition. The women are lively and agreeable, and as

fond of dress in Quebec as in other civilized places. They are pretty in
early youth in the Lower Province, but lose their complexions sooner
than the English ladies, owing, perhaps, to the rigour of the climate.*
However, they possess charms superior to beauty, and seem to retain
the affections of their husbands to the last hour of their lives. [* Mac
Taggart's "Three Years' Residence in Canada."]
Short as was my stay in Quebec, I could not leave without regret the
hospitable city where I had received from strangers such a warm
welcome. I have never visited the Lower Province since; but my
remembrance of its old capital is still as agreeable as it is distinct. The
next day our brig was taken in tow by the fine steam-boat, the
"Richelieu de Chambly," and with a leading wind and tide in our favour
we proceeded at a rapid rate up the river.
I shall not attempt to describe the charming scenery of this most
beautiful of all rivers, which has already been so amply described by
abler writers. I was delighted with everything I saw; but nothing
occurred worthy of narration.
The next day saw us safely moored in the port of Montreal, just forty-
five days from our departure from the London Docks. Montreal is a
handsome town, well situated, and must eventually become the most
important city in British North America. The river here is very broad.
The Lachine rapids commence immediately above the town, which are
an impediment to the navigation, now obviated by a canal terminating
at the village of Lachine, I believe nine miles distant from Montreal.
I took my passage in a Durham boat, bound for Kingston, which started
the next day. We had hard work poling up the rapids. I found I had
fallen in with a rough set of customers, and determined in my own
mind to leave them as soon as possible, which I happily effected the
next evening when we landed at Les Cedres. Here the great Otawa
pours its mighty stream into the St. Lawrence, tinging its green waters
with a darker hue, which can be traced for miles, till it is ultimately lost
in the rapids below.
I now determined to walk to Prescot, where I knew I should be able to
take the steam-boat for Kingston, on Lake Ontario. At the Coteau du
Lac I fell in with a Roman Catholic Irishman, named Mooney. We
travelled in company for three days, and as I had nothing else to do, I
thought I might as well make an effort to convert him. However, I

signally failed; and only endangered my own head by my zeal.
In the heat of argument and the indiscretion of youth, I used
expressions which the Papist considered insulting to his religion. He
was not one to put up patiently with this, so he would fire up, twirl his
blackthorn round his head, and say, "By St. Patrick, you had better not
say that again!" In everything else we agreed well enough; but I found,
on parting, that all my eloquence had been entirely thrown away. Mr.
Mooney remained just as firm a Roman Catholic as ever. Indeed, it was
the height of presumption in me, a boy in my twentieth year, to attempt
the conversion of such a strict Romanist as this Irishman.
The weather was excessively fine. The trees were just bursting into leaf.
The islands in the St. Lawrence, which are here numerous, wore the
brightest hues, and presented a charming contrast to the foaming rapids.
I remained two or three days at Prescot, waiting the arrival of my
baggage, which I had left on board the Durham boat. I amused myself
during the interval by taking walks in the neighbourhood. The land
appeared very sandy, the timber being chiefly hemlock: the situation of
the town is good. Steam-navigation commenced at this place, and now
that the Welland Canal is completed, it affords an uninterrupted
navigation be borne in mind that at the time of