th their goods, the women employed in washing or cooking in the
open air, beside the wood fires on the beach; while parties of children
are pursuing each other in wanton glee rejoicing in their newly-acquired
liberty. Mixed with these you see the stately form and gay trappings of
the sentinels, while the thin blue smoke of the wood fires, rising above
the trees, heightens the picture and gives it an additional effect. On
my husband remarking the picturesque appearance of scene before us to
one of the officers from the fort who had come on board, he smiled
sadly, and replied, "Believe me, in this instance, as in many others,
'tis distance lends enchantment to the view." Could you take a nearer
survey of some of those very picturesque groups which you admire, I
think you would turn away from them with heart sickness; you would there
behold every variety of disease, vice, poverty, filth, and famine--human
misery in its most disgusting and saddening form. Such pictures as
Hogarth's pencil only could have pourtrayed, or Crabbe's pen described.

August 14.--We are once more under weigh, and floating up the river with
the tide. Gros Isle is just five and twenty miles below Quebec, a
favourable breeze would carry us up in a few hours; as it is we can only
make a little way by tacking from side to side when we lose the tide. I
rather enjoy this way of proceeding, as it gives one a close view of
both sides the river, which narrows considerably as we approach nearer
towards Quebec. To-morrow, if no accident happens, we shall be anchored
in front of a place rendered interesting both by its historical
associations and its own native beauty of situation. Till to-morrow,
then, adieu.

I was reckoning much on seeing the falls of Montmorenci, which are
within sight of the river; but the sun set, and the stars rose
brilliantly before we approached within sound of the cataract; and
though I strained my eyes till they were weary of gazing on the dim
shadowy scene around me, I could distinguish nothing beyond the dark
masses of rock that forms the channel through which the waters of the
Montmorenci rush into the St. Laurence.

At ten last night, August the 15th, the lights of the city of Quebec
were seen gleaming through the distance like a coronet of stars above
the waters. At half-past ten we dropped anchor opposite the fort, and I
fell asleep dreaming of the various scenes through which I had passed.
Again I was destined to be disappoi