One cannot help being struck with this tardy appearance of spring in a latitude so far south. We are now in latitude 48, which is not only to the south of the most southerly part of England, but even considerably to the south of Paris, where summer heat is now oppressive. If we compare the commencement of vegetation in the old and new world, we shall perceive a striking difference even where both situations may feel the influence of the sea air. In Norfolk (on the coast), which is at nearly an equal distance from the north and south extremes of England, vegetation was last year very generally observed, both in the field and in the forest, about the middle of March, although upwards of five degrees to the north of our present situation.

We anchored, during the night, at the foot of the traverse, a well known part of the St. Lawrence, where we first had an opportunity of observing the great rapidity of the tides, and where, from shoals and islands, the navigation, to strangers, becomes somewhat difficult, and even dan

gerous; but with a good pilot and a fair wind there is little or no risk.

This morning we have a fine breeze, and we approach Quebec fast. We are now opposite the Island of Orleans, one of the largest in the river, and one of the most beautiful. It is about thirty miles in length, by about ten in breadth. Looking at this island one might fancy one's self in some part of Britain. The greatest part of it appears cultivated; and villages and cottages every where present themselves to

the eye.

Quebec just begins to open to our view in very fine style: the scenery on both sides of the river is charming. On the left we see Point Levi, with its romantic church and scattered cottages; on the right is the upper point of the Island of Orleans; beyond it the main land opens to view, and you are struck with the magnificent Falls of Montmorency. A river, called The Montmorency, of very considerable magnitude (as large as the Thames at Richmond), is seen precipitating itself in a body over a perpendicular precipice of 246 feet. It is allowed to be one of the

finest waterfalls in the world. The eye then runs along a cultivated country for about half a dozen miles, and the prospect is terminated by a ridge of mountains on the right, and by Cape Diamond and the Plains of Abraham on the left, where you see the city and battlements of Quebec commanding majestically the surrounding country.

The ship is alongside the wharf; and although she is as good a ship, and we have had as good a voyage as falls to the lot of most people, yet I do assure you, I very willingly step out of her,-into the Continent of America.

LETTER V.

Quebec, July, 1806.

HAVING led you, my worthy friend, across the Atlantic, and Gulf of St. Lawrence, and conducted you up the river to Quebec, let us take a view of this famou city and its neighbourhood. I have now been here a few weeks; and a few weeks residence is, I conceive, quite enough to enable one to see and judge of the outward and visible part of a country, its inhabitants, and their customs. Indeed, I am convinced that it is during the first few weeks' residence that you are best qualified to judge of, and describe these matters. In the first place, the appearance and manners of the country you came from, are alive in recollection; hence you will the more forcibly be struck with every thing new; and in the second place, while these impressions are new, they will so occupy your mind, as to enable you, with facility, to describe

them clearly and forcibly, which you would have great difficulty in doing after time had familiarized them to you, and weakened your recollection of that country, and of those appearances with which you originally contrasted them. Hence you always find that the truest and most lively descriptions of countries, of people, and of manners, are given by travellers who make a point of noting down, under the impressions of the moment, whatever may strike them as worthy of remark.

Europeans have ever been told that the appearance of America is extremely imposing; and, so far as I have seen, I can safely bear testimony to the truth of the remark. Nature seems to have sketched the picture with a bold hand: the outline is rough, but the effect is grand, and à la distance, the scenery is extremely pleasing.

There is not, perhaps, in the whole extent of this immense continent, so fine an approach to it as by the river St. Lawrence. In the southern states you have, in general, a level country for many miles in