This game
preserve, I pronounce "uncertain" because owing to several
inexplicable eventualities sportsmen innumerable, therefrom return
empty handed, whilst others, Mr. Chairman, make up, we know, pretty
good bags. The Son of Apollo, whilst thus hunting one gruesome, windy
morning, fortunately for us, sank in a boggy, yielding quicksand.
Luckily he extricated himself in time, and on reaching the margin of
the swamp, there stood an old pet of his tethered as if waiting for
its loved rider, a vigorous Norman or Percheron steed. Our friend
bestrode him, cantered off, and never drew rein until he stood,
panting perhaps, but a winner in the race, on the top of a mount,
distant and of access arduous, called Parnassus.
In conclusion, Mr. LeMoine quoted the memorable lines from Macaulay,
written the night when his parliamentary defeat at Edinburgh, in 1847,
restored him to letters: -
The day of tumult, strife, defeat, was o'er,
Worn out with toil, and noise, and scorn, and spleen,
I slumbered and in slumber saw once more
A room in an old mansion, long unseen.
That room, methought, was curtained from the light;
Yet through the curtains shone the moon's cold ray
Full on a cradle, where, in linen white,
Sleeping life's first sleep, an infant lay.
* * * * *
And lo! the fairy queens who rule our birth
Drew nigh to speak the new-born baby's doom:
With noiseless step, which left no trace on earth,
From gloom they came, and vanished into gloom.
Not deigning on the boy a glance to cast
Swept careless by the gorgeous Queen of Gain.
More scornful still, the Queen of Fashion passed,
With mincing gait and sneer of cold disdain.
The Queen of Power tossed high her jewelled head
And o'er her shoulder threw a wrathful frown.
The Queen of Pleasure on the pillow shed
Scarce one stray rose-leaf from her fragrant crown.
Still fay in long procession followed fay;
And still the little couch remained unblest:
But, when those wayward sprites had passed away,
Came One, the last, the mightiest, and the best.
Oh! glorious lady, with the eyes of light,
And laurels clustering round thy lofty brow,
Who by the cradle's side didst watch that night,
Warbling a sweet strange music, who wast thou?
"Yes, darling; let them go," so ran the strain:
"Yes; let them go, gain, fashion, pleasure, power,
And all the busy elves to whose domain
Belongs the nether sphere, the fleeting hour.
"Without one envious sigh, one anxious scheme,
The nether sphere, the fleeting hour assign.
Mine is the world of thought, the world of dream,
Mine all the past, and all the future mine.
* * * * *
"Of the fair brotherhood who share my grace,
I, from thy natal day, pronounce thee free;
And, if for some I keep a nobler place,
I keep for none a happier than for thee.
* * * * *
"No; when on restless night dawns cheerless morrow,
When weary soul and wasting body pine,
Thine am I still in danger, sickness, sorrow,
In conflict, obloquy, want, exile, thine;
"Thine where on mountain waves the snowbirds scream,
Where more than Thule's winter barbs the breeze,
Where scarce, through lowering clouds, one sickly gleam
Lights the drear May-day of Antarctic seas;
* * * * *
"Amidst the din of all things fell and vile,
Hate's yell, and envy's hiss, and folly's bray,
Remember me!"
FORT ST. LOUIS, CHATEAU ST. LOUIS, HALDIMAND CASTLE.
CHATEAU ST. LOUIS.
In Professor Kalm's saunter round Quebec, his description of the public
edifices, in 1749, is worthy of note:
"The Palace (Chateau Saint Louis) says he, is situated on the west or
steepest side of the mountain, just, above the lower city. It is not
properly a palace, but a large building of stone, two stories high,
extending north and south. On the west side of it is a court-yard,
surrounded partly with a wall, and partly with houses. On the east
side, or towards the river, is a gallery as long as the whole
building, and about two fathoms broad, paved with smooth flags, and
included on the outside by iron rails, from whence the city and the
river exhibit a charming prospect. This gallery serves as a very
agreeable walk after dinner, and those who come to speak with the
Governor-General wait here till he is at leisure. The palace is the
lodging of the Governor-General of Canada, and a number of soldiers
mount the guard before it, both at the gate and in the court-yard; and
when the Governor, or the Bishop comes in or goes out, they must all
appear in arms and beat the drum. The Governor-General has his own
chapel where he hears prayers; however, he often goes to Mass at the
church of the Recollets, which is very near the palace."
Such it seemed, in 1749, to the learned Swedish naturalist and philosopher
Peter Kalm. How many rainbow tints, poetry and romance can lend to the
same object, we may learn from the brilliant Niagara novelist, William
Kirby! In his splendid historical novel "Le Chien d'Or," whilst venturing
on the boldest flights of imagination, he thus epitomises some striking
historical features of the state residence of the French Viceroys of
Canada.
"The great hall of the Castle of St. Louis was palatial in its
dimensions and adornment. The panels of wainscoting upon the walls
were hung with paintings of historic interest - portraits of the Kings,
Governors, Intendants and Ministers of State, who had been
instrumental in the colonization of New France.
"Over the Governor's seat hung a gorgeous escutcheon of the Royal
arms, draped with a cluster of white flags, sprinkled with golden
lilies - the emblems of French sovereignty in the colony; among the
portraits on the walls, beside those of the late (Louis XIV.,) and
present King (Louis XV) - which hung on each side of the throne - might
be seen the features of Richelieu, who first organized the rude
settlements on the St. Lawrence in a body politic - a reflex of feudal
France; and of Colbert, who made available its natural wealth and
resources, by peopling it with the best scions of the Mother Land - the
noblesse and peasantry of Normandy, Brittany and Aquitaine.
