Yet, When You Breathe The Poisoned Air, Laden With Everything Noxious To
Health, And Have The Physical And Moral Senses
Alike met with everything
that can disgust and offend, it ceases to be a matter of wonder that the
fair
Tender plant of beautiful childhood refuses to grow in such a
vitiated atmosphere. Here all distinctions between good and evil are
speedily lost, if they were ever known; and men, women, and children
become unnatural in vice, in irreligion, in manners and appearance. Such
spots as these act like cankers, yearly spreading further and further
their vitiating influences, preparing for all those fearful retributions
in the shape of fever and pestilence which continually come down. Yet,
lamentable as the state of such a population is, considered merely with
regard to this world, it becomes fearful when we recollect that the wheels
of Time are ceaselessly rolling on, bearing how few, alas! to heaven - what
myriads to hell; and that, when "this trembling consciousness of being,
which clings enamoured to its anguish," not because life is sweet, but
because death is bitter, is over, there remains, for those who have known
nothing on earth but misery and vice, "a fearful looking for of judgment
and fiery indignation," when they that have done evil "shall rise to the
resurrection of damnation."
It was not that the miserable degraded appearance of St. Roch was anything
new to me; unfortunately the same state of things exists in a far greater
degree in our large towns at home; what did surprise me was, to find it in
the New World, and that such a gigantic evil should have required only two
hundred years for its growth. It seemed to me also that at Quebec the gulf
which separates the two worlds is greater even than that which lies
between Belgravia and Bethnal Green or St. Giles's. The people who live in
the lower town are principally employed on the wharfs, and in the lumber
trade. But my readers will, not thank me for detaining them in a
pestiferous atmosphere, among such unpleasing scenes; we will therefore
ascend into the High-street of the city, resplendent with gorgeous
mercers' stores, and articles of luxury of every description. This street
and several others were at this period impassable for carriages, the
roadways being tunnelled, and heaped, and barricaded; which curious and
highly disagreeable state of things was stated to arise from the laying
down of water-pipes. At night, when fires were lighted in the narrow
streets, and groups of roughly dressed Frenchmen were standing round them,
Quebec presented the appearance of the Faubourg St. Antoine after a
revolution.
Quebec is a most picturesque city externally and internally. From the
citadel, which stands on a rock more than three hundred feet high, down to
the crowded water-side, bustling with merchants, porters, and lumbermen,
all is novel and original. Massive fortifications, with guns grinning from
the embrasures, form a very prominent feature; a broad glacis looks
peaceful in its greenness; ramparts line the Plains of Abraham; guards and
sentries appear in all directions; nightfall brings with it the challenge
- "Who goes there?" and narrow gateways form inconvenient entrances to
streets so steep that I wondered how mortal horses could ever toil up
them. The streets are ever thronged with vehicles, particularly with rude
carts drawn by rough horses, driven by French peasants, who move stolidly
along, indifferent to the continual cry "Place aux dames." The stores
generally have French designations above them, the shop men often speak
very imperfect English; the names of the streets are French; Romish
churches and convents abound, and Sisters of Charity, unwearied in their
benevolence, are to be seen visiting the afflicted.
Notices and cautions are posted up both in French and English; the light
vivacious tones of the French Canadians are everywhere heard, and from the
pillar sacred to the memory of Wolfe upon the Plains of Abraham, down to
the red-coated sentry who challenges you upon the ramparts, everything
tells of a conquered province, and of the time, not so very far distant
either, when the lilies of France occupied the place from which the flag
of England now so proudly waves.
I spent a few days at Russell's Hotel, which was very full, in spite of
the rats. In Canadian hotels people are very sociable, and, as many during
the season make Russell's their abode, the conversation was tolerably
general at dinner. Many of the members of parliament lived there, and they
used to tell very racy and amusing stories against each other. I heard one
which was considered a proof of the truth of the saying, that "the tailor
makes the gentleman." A gentleman called on a Mr. M - - , who had been
appointed to a place in the government, and in due time he went to return
the visit. Meeting an Irishman in the street, he asked, "Where does Mr.
'Smith' live?" - "It's no use your going there." "I want to know where he
lives, do you know?" - "Faith, I do; but it's no use your going there." Mr.
M - - , now getting angry, said, "I don't ask you for your advice, I simply
want to know where Mr. 'Smith' lives." - "Well, spalpeen, he lives down
that court; but I tell ye it's no use your going there, for I've just been
there myself, and he's got a man." It is said that the discomfited
senator returned home and bought a new hat!
Passing out by the citadel, the Plains of Abraham, now a race-course, are
entered upon; the battle-field being denoted by a simple monument bearing
the inscription "Here died Wolfe victorious." Beyond this, three miles
from the city, is Spencer-Wood, the residence of the Governor-General. It
is beautifully situated, though the house is not spacious, and is rather
old-fashioned. The ball-room, however, built by Lord Elgin, is a beautiful
room, very large, admirably proportioned, and chastely decorated. Here a
kind of vice-regal court is held; and during the latter months of Lord
Elgin's tenure of office, Spencer-Wood was the scene of a continued round
of gaiety and hospitality.
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