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.