ongs, romances and legends,
that it would ill-become me to even attempt the subject. A writer, many
years ago, while paddling up the river and among the Islands, expressed
himself thus: "As the sun set below the islands the full moon rose in
all her beauty. The light evening breeze had subsided into a calm; not a
breath of air ruffled the glassy waters.

Impressed with the solemnity of the scene, I could not refrain from
wishing that here, at least, Nature might be permitted to reign
unmolested, but the solitary watch-fires of the recent settlers gave
proof that though his tenure was yet but frail, man! rapacious and
indefatigable man! was fast establishing usurpation." This was written
many years ago. What would be the astonishment of the writer, if he
could revisit the scene. Would he think it improvement or desecration?
On the islands cottages are built, and well kept lawns, sloping down to
the water, are brightened by the bright dresses of women and children,
and in some places the modern game of lawn tennis is being played, and
everything shows that Nature has not been allowed to reign unmolested.
Steamboats are plying from place to place; pleasure seekers lift their
voices to hear the sounds re-echoed from island to island, from shore to
shore, until the faint reverberation is lost among the murmuring pines.
Surely the crags and trees, the pines and poplars, are tempted to
return the echo as a protest against this invasion. If the sensibilities
were quickened to the sounds of nature, the words re-echoed would be
"leave us alone in our solitude."

The St. Lawrence does not speak to our hearts of deep tragedies, but
breathes into the soul a spirit of love.

"When Eve plucked death from the tree of life and brought tears of
sorrow upon earth, Adam was driven out into the world to mourn with her,
and taste from the bitter spring that we drink to-day."

"Then angels on their wings, bore the silent Eden to the eternal spheres
on high, and placed it in the heavens--but in passing through space,
they dropped along the way, to mark their course, some flowers from the
garden divine. These flowers of changing hues, falling into the great
river, became the Thousand Isles--the Paradise of the St. Lawrence."

It is a study to watch the different expressions and manners of the
people whom we meet. There is the woman who, on meeting makes one feel
that they have passed through some difficult surgical operation, her
look is s