"Mr. Simon Fraser, perhaps one of those converted Jacobites who scaled the height of Quebec, in 1759, turned civilian, gives us the price of tea: Single Green tea is 13s. a pound, Best Hyson, 25s; Bohea, 6/6d. Pity that tea was so dear and wine so cheap! Bread was very cheap, and large quantities of wheat were exported—whereas now Lower Canada has to import the most of its cereals. Great attention was paid to dress, and though no sumptuary laws were in force, the principle on which they were founded was still remembered, and attire bespoke the position of the wearer. The articles and styles advertised by drapers and tailors are, of course, in accordance with the manufacture and fashion of the time. The lists of dry goods and fancy goods are very full, but to those engaged in the business now the antique nomenclature might be puzzling. Irish linen was sold at from 1/6 to 7/0 per yard, and Irish sheeting at from 1/6 to 2/6. We are not told the prices of tammies or durants, romals or molletons, cades or shalloons, but we are always carefully informed that they may be had at the lowest prices. Pains are also taken, in many instances, to indicate the previous experience of the advertisers. Thus tailors and mantua-makers generally 'hail from' London. Mr. Hanna, the watch- maker, whose time-keepers still tick attestation to his industry and popularity, is proud to have learned his trade by the banks of the Liffey. Mr. Bennie, tailor and habit-maker, from Edinburgh, 'begs leave to inform the public that all gentlemen and ladies who will be so good as to favour him with their custom may depend upon being faithfully served on the shortest notice and in the newest fashion for ready money or short credit, on the most reasonable terms.' There were peruke-makers in those days and they seem to have thriven well in Quebec, if we may judge by their advertised sales of real estate. Jewellers also seem to have had plenty to do, as they advertise occasionally for assistants instead of customers. Furriers, hatters, couturieres and shoemakers also present their claims to public favour, so that there was no lack of provision for the wants of the outer man.

"From the general tone and nature of the advertisements it is easily inferred that the society of Quebec soon after the conquest was gay and luxurious. We are not surprised when we find that a theatrical company found it worth their while to take up their abode there. Among the pieces played we find Home's 'Douglas' and Otway's 'Venice Preserved.' The doors were opened at five o'clock and the entertainment began at half-past six! The frequenters of the 'Thespian Theatre' were a select and privileged class, and only subscribers were admitted. Private theatricals were much in vogue; and, indeed, there was every variety of amusement which climate could allow or suggest, or the lovers of frolic devise. Nor were bards wanting to celebrate these festivities, witness the following extract from a 'carioling song:'

"'Not all the fragrance of the spring, Nor all the tuneful birds that sing, Can to the Plains the ladies bring, So soon as carioling.

"'Nor Venus with the winged Loves, Drawn by her sparrows or her doves, So gracefully or swiftly moves, As ladies carioling,"

"Another poet, whose mind was evidently less healthily braced by out- door exercise, gives us a very different picture of the recreations of the period. It occurs in the course of an essay in versification called 'Evening.'

"'Now minuets o'er, the country dance is formed See every little female passion rise, By jealousy, by pride, by envy warmed, See Adam's child the child of Eve despise.

"'With turned-up nose Belinda Chloe eyes, Chloe Myrtilla with contempt surveys, "What! with that creature dance!" Cleora cries, "That vulgar wretch! I faint—unlace my stays.

* * * * *

"'Now meet in groups the philosophic band, Not in the porch, like those of ancient Greece, But where the best Madeira is at hand From thought the younger students to release

"'For Hoyle's disciples hold it as a rule That youth for knowledge should full dearly pay, Wherefore to make young cubs the fitter tool Presuming sense by Lethean drafts they slay.

* * * * *

"'With all the fury of a tempest torn, With execrations horrible to hear, By all the wrath of disappointment borne, The cards, their garments, hair, the losers tear.'

"The winner's unfeeling composure is described in another verse, and

"'Now dissipation reigns in varied forms Now riot in the bowl the senses steeps, Whilst nature's child, secure from passion's storms, With tranquil mind in sweet oblivion sleeps.'

"It is to be hoped, for the honour of the ladies and gentlemen of old Quebec, that 'Asmodeus' was under the malign influence of envy, hatred and all uncharitableness when he wrote those cynical verses. If he wrote the truth we cannot be too thankful that the Chloes and Cleoras are dead and buried.

"Who was Miss Hannah MacCulloch? She was a young lady once; and, if we may believe her panegyrist, was a beauty in her day. The acrostic in her honor is anonymous, and occasion is taken in the course of it to almost mention some other young ladies by the way of making a climax of her charms. The poet seems to have been inspired by indignation at the insinuations of 'Asmodeus,' for he begins thus.

"'Muses, how oft does Satire's vengeful gall Invoke your powers to aid its bitter sting,'

and then he prefers his own claims to the favor of the Nine

"'Sure you will rather listen to my call, Since beauty and Quebec's fair nymphs I sing'

"It seems his petition was heard, for he forthwith begins his laudation:

"'Henceforth Diana in Miss S—ps—n see, As noble and majestic is her air, Nor can fair Venus, W—lc—s, vie with thee, Nor all her heavenly charms with thine compare.

"'Around the B—ch—rs Juno's glory plays, Her power and charms in them attract our praise Minerva, who with beauty's queen did vie And patronized all the finer arts, Crowned the McN—ls with her divinity, Crowned them the queens of beauty and of hearts.

"'Unto fair F—m—n now I turn my song, Lovely in all she says, in all she does, Lo! to her toilet see each goddess throng, One cannot all, but each a charm bestows Could all these beauties in one female be, Her whom I sing would be the lovely she.'

"This effusion provoked more criticism than many a book of poetry is subjected to nowadays, and the censors were in their turn criticized by others. Montreal even took part in this literary tournament. But we are left in the dark as to its effect on the spirits, tempers or destinies of Miss MacCulloch and her sister belles.

"It would seem that the author was a young clerk or merchant of Quebec, as one of the critics spitefully tells him not to desert his shop. The ladies themselves do not escape, one writer suggesting that they are coquettish enough already without making them more so. The Montreal correspondent is warned off as an intruder, and told that he had better have saved his ninepence of postage money. Just imagine this silly acrostic furnishing gossip for Quebec and matter for the Gazette for two months!

"As another note of the state of society at that time may be mentioned occasional advertisements for the sale of negro lads and wenches, or of rewards for the recovery and restoration of missing ones. Slavery was not abolished in Lower Canada till 1803. In Upper Canada, as a separate province, it hardly ever existed. Did the manumitted blacks remain in Canada after their liberation, or did they seek a more congenial climate?

"For education there does not seem to have been any public provision, but private schools for both sexes were numerous. These were probably expensive, so that the poorer classes were virtually debarred from the advantages of learning. The instruction of Catholic children was in the hands of the clergy, and it may be that in some of the conventual schools a certain number were admitted free of expense or at reduced rates. It would appear that some of the young ladies were sent to English boarding-schools, if we may judge by advertisements in which the advantages of these institutions are set forth.

"A Miss or Mrs. Agnes Galbraith not only taught school, but also carried on the millinery business, to which she informs the public that she had served a regular apprenticeship, besides having been 'a governess for several years to a genteel boarding-school.'

"The principal of a boys' school who resided at Three Rivers 'respectfully begs leave to remark that he means to presume no further than he is perfectly able to perform, and build his hope of encouragement on no other foundation than his assiduity to merit it.' His 'course' is nevertheless a pretty full one, including English, French, Latin, Greek, writing in a natural and easy style after the best precedents; arithmetic, vulgar and decimal; geography, with use of the globes; geometry, navigation with all the late modern improvements; algebra, and every other useful and ornamental branch of mathematical learning. Some of the other male teachers write in a similar strain of their qualifications."

"It may be inferred, then, that the wealthier classes of Canada in those days had much the same advantages of culture as their friends in England. Intercourse with the mother country was much more general and frequent than might be imagined, and, no doubt, many young gentlemen, after a preliminary training at a colonial academy, were sent home to enter some of the English public schools or universities. From the higher ranks downwards education varied till it reached the 'masses,' with whom its index was a cipher. There is no reason to suppose, however, that the population of Canada, taken as a whole, was less cultivated during the last forty years of the eighteenth century than that of any European nation during the same period. From the consideration of education, one naturally passes to that of crime. Thefts were frequent, and sometimes committed on a large scale. The punishment was whipping at a cart-tail through the streets of the city—the culprits themselves being whipped and whipsters in turn. Assault, stealing in private houses, and highway robbery were punished with death. The expiation for manslaughter was being branded in the hand which did the deed. Desertion was very frequent, especially among the Hessians and Brunswickers then stationed in Canada. In some cases they were promised pardon if they returned to their regiments, but woe to them if they returned against their will! Towards the end of the year 1783 'Gustavus Leight, a German doctor, confined for felony, broke out of His Majesty's jail at Quebec.' He was '25 years of age, about 5 feet high.' We are not told whether or not he was captured as the advertisement is continued to the end of the year, but if he did not change his dress he could not have succeeded in baffling very long the keen eye of a detective, for "he had on, when he made his escape, a brown coat, red plush waistcoat, white stockings and cock'd hat.' If such a gentleman made his appearance in the streets of any Canadian city to-day, he would certainly be requested to 'move on,' or asked to 'explain his motives.' One thing is certain, that prisoners for felony in the year 1783 had not to submit to any arbitrary sumptuary arrangement—at least in the Quebec gaol (as it is always spelled in the Gazette, perhaps because it is the goal of evildoers).

"The general state of society in Montreal, as well as in Three Rivers, St. Johns, L'Assomption, Terrebonne, Sorel and the other towns and villages in existence at the period which we are considering was, in all probability, very like that of Quebec—the last-mentioned place having, of course, a certain prestige as the capital.

"It would be futile to attempt to give an accurate picture of the appearance of Montreal or Quebec at that distant date, and a description pretending to accuracy would not be possible without the collation of more ancient records than are easily obtainable by one person. The names of some of the streets, as Notre Dame, St. Paul and St. Antoine in Montreal, and St. John's, Fabrique, St. Peter and others in Quebec, are still unchanged. Villages near these towns, such as Ste. Foye, Beauport, Charlesbourg, Sault aux Recollets, St. Denis, Ste. Therese, etc., are also frequently mentioned in the old Gazettes. Detroit and Niagara were places of considerable importance, and St. Johns, Chambly, Berthier, L'Assomption, L'Acadie and other places were much more influential communities in comparison with the population of the country than they are to-day. The authorities at Quebec and Montreal were not wanting in endeavors to keep these cities clean, to judge, at least, by the published 'regulations for the police.' Every householder was obliged to put the Scotch proverbs in force, and keep clean and 'free from filth, mud, dirt, rubbish straw or hay' one-half of the street opposite his own house The 'cleanings' were to be deposited on the beach, as they still are in portions of Montreal and Quebec which border on the river. Treasure-trove in the shape of stray hogs could be kept by the finder twenty-four hours after the event, if no claim had been made in the meantime, and if the owner declared himself in person or through the bellman, he had to pay 10s. before he could have his pork restored. Five shillings was the penalty for a stray horse. The regulations for vehicles, slaughter-houses, sidewalks, markets, etc., were equally strict. Among other duties, the carters had to keep the markets clean. The keepers of taverns, inns and coffee-houses had to light the streets. Every one entering the town in a sleigh had to carry a shovel with him for the purpose of levelling cahots which interrupted his progress, 'at any distance within three leagues of the town.' The rates of cabs and ferry-boats are fixed with much precision. No carter was allowed to plead a prior engagement, but was to go 'with the person who first demanded him, under a penalty of twenty shillings.' The rate of speed was also regulated, and boys were not allowed to drive.

"Constant reference is made to the walls and gates of Montreal as well as Quebec, and there is reason to believe the smaller towns were similarly fortified. Beyond the walls, however, there was a considerable population, and many of the military officers, Government officials and merchants had villas without the city. The area in Montreal which lies between Craig, St. Antoine and Sherbrooke streets was studded with country-houses with large gardens and orchards attached. The seigneurs and other gentry had also fine, capacious stone-built residences, which much enhanced the charm of the rural scenery. Some of the estates of those days were of almost immense extent. The Kings of France thought nothing of granting a whole province, and, even in British times, there were gentlemen whose acres would have superimposed an English county. The extraordinary donation of James I. of a large portion of North America to Sir William Alexander was not long since brought before the public by the claims of his descendants. Large tracts of land were given away by Louis XIII., Louis XIV. and other French kings, by Oliver Cromwell and the Stuarts, and the same extravagant system of entailing unmanageable wealth on companies and individuals was continued after the conquest.

"It would be interesting to know what was the kind of literary fare on which the intellect of Canada subsisted in those days. It cannot be supposed that the people spent all their time in business and social pleasure. There must have been readers as well as cariolers and dancers, and the literature of England and France was by no means scanty. Great writers on every subject have flourished since that time, but some of the greatest that ever lived, some of those whose productions are still read with the highest pleasure, were the offspring of the two centuries which preceded the conquest. No one will be surprised to find, then, that in the year 1783, a circulating library in Quebec numbered nearly 2,000 volumes. Nor is the enquirer left in the dark as to its probable contents. In the Quebec Gazette of the 4th of December, a list of books is given which 'remained unsold at M. Jacques Perrault's, very elegantly bound'—and books were bound substantially as well as elegantly in those days. In this list are found 'Johnson's Dictionary,' then regarded as one of the wonders of the literary world, 'Chesterfield's Letters,' long the vade-mecum of every young gentleman beginning life, and which, even in our own days (and perhaps still), were frequently bound along with spelling and reading books, the 'Pilgrim's Progress', which it is not necessary to characterize, Young's 'Night Thoughts,' the 'Spectator and 'Guardian,' Rapin's 'English History,' 'Cook's Voyages,' Rousseau's 'Eloise,' 'Telemaque,' 'Histoire Chinoise,' 'Esprit des Croissades,' 'Lettres de Fernand Cortes,' 'Histoire Ancienne' par Rollin, 'Grammaire Anglaise et Francaise,' 'Dictionnaire par l'Academie,' 'Dictionnaire de Commerce,' 'Dictionary of the Arts and Sciences,' 'Smith's Housewife,' 'The Devil on Sticks,' 'Voltaire's Essay on Universal History,' 'Dictionnaire de Cuisine' and several others on various subjects, 'Oeuvres de Rabelais,' 'American Gazetteer,' etc. These, it will be remembered, had remained unsold, but among the sold there must have been copies of the same.

"It is, according to our notions of to-day, a meagre collection, but, no doubt, many families possessed good libraries, brought with them from over the sea, and the bookseller may not have kept a large stock at one time. It was the custom for merchants to sell off all their overlying goods before they went or sent to Europe for a reinforcement.

"The following books were advertised as 'missing:'—Langhorn's Plutarch, 1st vol., Thomson's Works, 4th vol., Gordon's 'Universal Accountant,' 1st vol.; and Gray's Hudibras, 2nd vol. For each one of them there is offered a reward of two dollars! Reading was expensive recreation in those times.

"The reader, perhaps, has seen, or, it may be, possesses one of those old libraries, of which the general public occasionally have a glimpse at auction rooms, composed of standard authors, and beautifully and solidly bound, which had adorned the studies of the fathers of our country. They contain all that was best in the French and English literature of the last century—history, poetry, divinity, belles lettres, science and art. From these may be gathered what were the tastes, the culture and the thought of the Canadians of the last century.

"Music and painting were cultivated—the former being, as now, a necessary part of female education. Of a festival given by the young ladies of a place called La Cote, near Quebec, in 1764, it is promised in the programme that "the orchestra and symphony will be composed of instruments of all kinds." It may interest some ladies to know that among the dances at the same entertainment are mentioned 'l'Harlequinade,' 'La Chinoise,' and 'La Matelote Hollandaise'—some relation, perhaps, to the 'Sailor's Hornpipe.'

"The settlement in Canada of the United Empire Loyalists, after the peace of September, 1783, by which the independence of the revolted colonies was recognized, must have had a considerable influence on Canadian society, and more than atoned for sufferings inflicted on the colony during the progress of the war. Repeated efforts had been made by the Americans to engage the affections of the Canadians. Among those whom Congress had appointed commissioners to treat with the Canadian people on this subject was the renowned Dr. Benjamin Franklin, whose visit to this country was not the most successful portion of his career. Although in some instances there was a manifestation of disaffection to the British Government, the great bulk of the population remained unmistakably loyal. In the Quebec Gazette of October 23rd, 1783, is found the Act of Parliament passed in favour of the Loyalists, in which the 25th day of March, 1784, is fixed as the limit of the period during which claims for relief or compensation for the loss of property should be received. How many availed themselves of the provisions of this act it is not easy to say, but the whole number of persons dispossessed of their estates and forced to seek another home in consequence of their continued allegiance, is set down at from 25,000 to 30,000. Of these, the great majority took up their abodes in the Canadas, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, while a few went to the West Indies, and others returned to England. The biographies of some of these Loyalist settlers in British North America would be full of interest and instruction. But records of family movements and vicissitudes are very rarely kept—most rarely in those cases in which adventures are most frequent and the course of events most changeful. I have, however, seen accounts of the early settlements in the Eastern Townships, P. Q., and in different portions of Ontario, which were full of the romance of faith, of courage, and of perseverance."

THE ST. LOUIS HOTEL

A sketch of this fashionable thoroughfare—St. Louis street—the headquarters of the judiciary, barristers, politicians, etc., would be incomplete without a mention of the chief trysting-place of travellers and tourists for the last thirty years—the leading hostelry of Quebec. St. Louis Hotel is made up of two or more private dwellings joined together. That on the corner of Haldimand and St. Louis streets formerly was owned as a residence by the late Edward Burroughs, Esq., P. S. C. Next to it stood, in 1837, Schluep's Hotel—the Globe Hotel—kept by a German, and where the military swells in 1837-8-9 and our jolly curlers used to have recherche dinners or their frugal "beef and greens" and fixings. In 1848, Mr. Burroughs' house was rented to one Robert Bambrick, who subsequently opened a second-class hotel at the corner of Ste. Anne and Garden streets, on the spot on which the Queen's printer, the late Mr. George Desbarats, built a stately office for the printing of the Canada Gazette—subsequently sold on the removal of the Government to Ottawa —now the Russell House. The Globe Hotel belonged to the late B. C. A. Gugy, Esq. It was purchased by the late Messrs Lelievre & Angers, barristers, connected with two or three adjacent tenements, and rented, about 1852, to Messrs. Azro and Willis Russell (represented now by the Russell Hotel Company) for the St. Louis Hotel. Connected by a door through the wall with the Music Hall, it is a notable landmark in St. Louis street and an object of considerable interest to city cabmen as well, during the season of tourists. Its dining saloon, on the second flow, has witnessed many bountiful repasts, to celebrate social, military, political or literary events, none better remembered than that of the 17th of November, 1880, when the elite of Quebec crowded in unusual numbers— about one hundred and eighty citizens, English and French—to do honour, by a public banquet, to the laureate of the French Academy, M. Louis Honore Frechette, [30] to celebrate his receiving in August last, in Paris, from the Academie Francaise, the unprecedented distinction, for a colonist, of the Grand Prix Monthyon (2,000 livres) for the excellence of his poetry.

Subjoined will be found the names of some of those present, also, extracts from a few of the addresses delivered. We regret much that want of space precludes us from adding more of the eloquent speeches delivered, because they throw light for English readers on the high degree of culture French literature has attained at Quebec. All, we are sure, will rejoice with us that, for the cause of letters, M. Frechette was timely rescued from the quagmire of political warfare and hustings promises.

THE FRECHETTE DINNER, NOVEMBER 17, 1880.

"Mr. L. H. Frechette, the laureate of the French Academy, was last night the recipient of marks of honor and esteem, in the shape of a magnificent banquet given him at the St. Louis Hotel, by the citizens of Quebec and vicinity. The tables were laid in the large dining hall of the St. Louis Hotel, which was handsomely decorated for the occasion. The walls were partially covered with French and English flags, and wreaths of evergreen surrounded all the windows. Behind the Chairman, on a bracket, was an excellent bust of the Canadian poet, having on either side paintings of scenes in Mr. Frechette's drama, 'Papineau,' by Mr. E. W. Sewell, Levis.

"Over 125 gentlemen sat down to the banquet, amongs-whom we noticed— The Honorable Judge Henri T. Taschereau, M. Lefaivre, Consul of France, Count de Premio-Real, Consul-General of Spain, the Baron Bols, Consul-General of Belgium, Major Wasson, Consul of the United States, M. Thors, Hon. W. Laurier, Hon. I. Thibaudeau, Hon. C. A. P. Pelletier, C.M.G. Hon. D. A. Ross, M.P.P., Achille Larue, N.P., Charles Langelier, M.P.P., Hon. H. G. Joly, M.P.P., Hon. F. Langelier, M.P.P., Hon. Arthur Turcotte, Speaker of the Assembly, Dr. Rinfret, M.P.P, P. B. Casgrain, N.P., James Dunbar, Esq., Q.C., Nazaire Turcotte, Dr. Colin Sewell, Oscar Dunn, C. Antil, B. Bedard, G. T. Davie, G. Pare, Henri Delagrave, W. E. Brunet, E. W Sewell, F. X. Lemieux, Faucher de St. Maurice, F. M. Dechene, G. E. T. Rinfret, O. L. Richardson, Louis Bilodeau, Oscar Lanctot, N. Levasseur, George Stewart, jr., Edward Thomas, D. Chambers, F. G. Gautier, Paul de Cazes, R. J. Bradley, D. J. Montambault, T. Godfroy Papineau, N.P., Montreal, De La Broquerie Tache, C. Massiah, James M. LeMoine, President Literary and Historical Society, W. J. Wyatt, Alphonse Pouliot, Dr. L. LaRue, Colonel Rhodes, Dr. Pourtier, C. Duquet, V. Belanger, Charles Langlois, W. C. Languedoc, Alfred White, Peter McEwan, George Henry Powell, A. P. Beaulieu, Alfred Lemieux, Elie Lachance, Richard L. Suffur, Lieut.-Col. Turnbull, H. M. Price, R. St. B. Young, G. R. White, Captain Gzowski, J. U. Laird, Chariot, Fitzpatrick, E. Swindell, E. J. Hale, Cecil Fraser, Aug. Stuart, C. V. M. Temple, Timolaus Beaulieu, C. S. Beaulieu, N. Laforce, George Bouchard, L. N. Carrier, J. B. Michaud, Dr. Lamontagne. Dr. Collet, Arthur Lavigne, P. Boutin, M.P.P., F. Fortier, G. Bresse, J. S. C. Wurtele, M.P.P., P. E. Godbout, Paul Dumas, Lieutenant Drury, Captain Wilson, H. G. Sheppard, J. B. Charleson, Dr. Hubert LaRue, H. J. J. B. Chouinard, President de l'Institut Canadien, H. J. Beemer, J. L. Renaud, E. W. Methot, E. C. E. Gauthier, O. Leger, J. E. Pouliot, D. R. Barry, L. P. Lemay, Jacques Auger, Ernest Pacaud, J. Allaire, M.P., T. G. Tremblay, M.P., J. J. Gahan, Joseph Blondeau, Thomas Potvin, J. B. Z. Dubeau, Frs. Bertrand, J. C. Hamel, Emile Jacot, John Buchanan, Antoine Carrier, William Breakey.

"The Chair was occupied by Hon. Judge H. T. Taschereau, having on his right the guest of the evening, L. H. Frechette, the Count Premio- Real, Hon. C. A. P. Pelletier, Mr. Wasson, Hon. F. Langelier, M. Thors of Paris, &c., and on his left the Consul-General for France, Hon. Mr. Laurier, Mr. Bols, Hon. D. Ross, &c.

"The banquet was given in the well-known excellent style of the Russell Hotel Company, which never leaves anything to be desired. After full justice had been done the good things provided for the occasion, silence was obtained, when the following resolution, presented to Mr. Frechette by the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, was read by the Secretary, Mr. Delagrave:—

"At a monthly general meeting of the Literary and Historical Society, held on the 13th October last:

"It was proposed by Commander Ashe, R.N., seconded by R. McLeod, Esq.,

"That the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec has witnessed with the highest satisfaction the literary honours conferred in August last, by the Academie Francaise, on Monsieur Louis Honore Frechette, for the poetical excellence of his two poems, 'Les Fleurs Boreales' and 'Les Oiseaux de Neige.'

"That the Academical crown, encircling the brow of a Canadian poet, ought to be as much prised by Canada as it must be dear to its gifted son, the Laureate of the French Academy.

"That such a signal distinction conferred by the highest literary tribunal, whilst it exhibits in such a favourable light the intellectual vigour of the Province of Quebec, cannot be otherwise than a subject of legitimate pride to the Dominion of Canada.

"That the President and Secretary of this Society be charged with the pleasant duty of conveying to Monsieur L. H. Frechette the expression of the sentiments of admiration with which it views his literary success.

(Signed,) J. M. LEMOINE, President ALEX. ROBERTSON, Secretary

Quebec, 13th October, 1880.

"The usual loyal toasts—the Queen and Governor-General—were given by the Chairman, and enthusiastically honoured.

"The Chairman then proposed "France," the toast being received with the usual honours and responded to by M. Lefaivre, the Consul-General for France.

"M. Lefaivre made an interesting speech, alluding to the past and present of France, to the communication between the France of the Old World and the Nouvelle France of this Western hemisphere, dwelling upon the honours achieved by the guest of the evening in Paris, and contending that literature was the soul of a nation.

"The Chairman, Hon. Mr. Justice H. Taschereau, then rose to propose the toast of the evening, being received with loud and prolonged cheering. He said,—

"GENTLEMEN,—I have now the honour to propose the toast of the evening—the health of our distinguished fellow-countryman, our guest, Louis Honore Frechette, the poet of Canada, crowned by the Academy of France. You have heard, gentlemen, the loud hurrah of all Canada in honour of one of her children, and here, perhaps, I might cease speaking. Nothing that I might say could increase the glad strength of the general voice of the country, when the news arrived here that the grand arena of literature, the French Academy, an institution whose life is counted by centuries, and which is without equal in the world, that great interpreter and infallible judge of the difficulties, the beauties and the genius of the French language, had given one of its annual prizes, and perhaps the finest of all—the prize of poetry—to one of our countrymen. I could never fittingly express or depict the sentiments of pride and joy felt by all lovers of literature in this country—I may add of all good Canadians—when the news came from beyond the ocean, from that sacred France, mother of civilization; from fairy Paris, capital of the Muses, that Mr. Frechette had been crowned! But, as Chairman of this happy reunion, at the risk of but faintly re-echoing the general sentiment, I must at least try to express my feelings in proposing this toast. The emotions which I feel are of a dual nature, that of friendship and of patriotism, and, as friendship is nearer to the heart, so I gave that feeling the first place. The speaker here referred to his collegiate days in the Seminary of Quebec, where he met Mr. Frechette, and in preparing himself for the battle of life, had won the friendship of the Canadian poet. He alluded to Mr. Frechette's first efforts in verse, and had judged his early attempts, and in referring to his (the Judge's) own literary works at the time, the speaker said that the line of Boileau might be applied to him,

"'Pour lui, Phoebus est sourd et Pegase est retif.'

"At that time, Mr. Frechette had not reached the heights of Helicon, nor attained the regions wherein the 'Boreal Flowers' are gathered and the 'Snow Birds' fly, but the little flowers he gathered in more modest fields had around them the perfume of genuine poetry, and the emerald, ruby and topaz of art already shone in the dainty plumage of his summer birds. Mr. Frechette published in a small journal in manuscript, called L'Echo, of which Judge Taschereau was then editor in the Seminary, the first efforts of his muse. This souvenir of the past is now very precious to me, said the speaker, because it enables me to state that I was the first editor of our poet's works. Judge Taschereau further alluded to the time when, with Mr. Frechette, he studied law, that dry study, and though the poet was thus devoted to the goddess Themis, he nevertheless found time to worship at the shrine of song. How could the poet do otherwise? His fame had already gone abroad. The journals of the country were already publishing his sonnets, odes and songs. His acrostics were sought after to grace the albums of fair ladies. Even the volunteers of Canada asked him for war-songs, which are happily more frequently heard in drawing-rooms than in camps. The young student did not possess himself. He was already the property of the country, and the Institutes of Justinian were put aside for the more pleasing task of framing idyllic pictures of poetic genius. In fact, Cremazie was almost forgotten, and the name of Frechette was on every tongue. Mr. Taschereau tried to reclaim the poet to his legal duties, and give him the place of Mr. Faucher de St. Maurice in his office. Mr. Frechette accepted the sinecure, but no sooner had he done so than Mr. Faucher returned, anxious, no doubt, for good and congenial company. Judge of my happiness, with Frechette and Faucher in my office, and I their humble patron. I thought I would succeed in converting my friends, but in this I failed, for they led me on their own paths until I myself began to versify, and, instead of reading Pothier, read 'proofs' of verses. As it is, Mr. Frechette did become a lawyer; but Mr. Faucher abandoned the pursuit—he retired from my office, lost forever to Themis, but safe to the cause of literature. The departure of my young friends saved me. I could never expect to win the applause of the French Academy, and thus, as I am enabled to preside at this banquet, I may be permitted to offer our guest a bouquet of friendship's flowers, gathered during twenty-five years, and I feel that its perfume will be agreeable to my distinguished friend. The life of Mr. Frechette is written in the poetry and literature of this country. He has marched steadily onward from the day on which he wrote his Loisirs, until the grand moment when he stood the crowned victor in the Academy of France. We have known our guest as a lawyer, journalist and member of Parliament, and have always admired his wonderful faculties, ever ready as he was to promote the welfare of his friends. His large heart contributed to pave the way to success, for, undoubted though his talents are, his winning manners won for him an ever-growing popularity, and we may affirm that, if he had traducers, he had, on the other hand, a host of friends. Traducers always follow the wake of a literary man, and they resemble the creeping things which we suffer in our gardens, because their existence can lead to no effectual harm. I may have occupied your time at too great length in treating of Mr. Frechette as a friend. Allow me now, however, for a few moments, to speak of his success from a patriotic point of view. As French-Canadians, we are proud of our Laureate, and happy to see him in our midst this evening. In crowning our distinguished poet, the French Academy has given a splendid recognition to Canadian literature in the great Republic of Letters. Our Laureate is a French-Canadian, but our fellow-citizens of British origin have joined with us in this manifestation of our joy, and through their press, as at such gatherings as this, they have spontaneously recognized his talent, thus showing their spirit of justice and their enlightened patriotism. Party politics have ceased their discordant cries to join unanimously in honoring our Laureate, and this is a spectacle of consolation to the country. No commentary is required on this expression of our joy. It is, in itself, the most eloquent of proofs that the citizens of Quebec, as well as those of Montreal, in giving this festival to Mr. Frechette, have invited all Canadians, in the largest acceptation of the word, to do him honour. In concluding, as I know you are anxious to hear him address you this evening, permit me to make a comparison. One of the most distinguished of modern poets, Alfred de Musset, said in a moment of despair:—

"J'ai perdu ma force, et ma vie, Et mes amis, et ma gaite: J'ai perdu jusqu'a la fierte Qui faisait croire a mon genie."

"'I have lost my strength and my life, my friends and my gayety, almost my very pride, which made me believe in my genius.' We may say to Mr. Frechette, as an offset to this cry of despair from one of his elder poetic brethren: 'Courage! You have strength and life! More friends than ever! An enthusiasm of gayety which is fathomless! March on and sing! We are proud of you, and we believe in your genius, crowned, as it is, by the highest literary tribunal in the world—that of the Forty Immortals!' (Cheers.)

"The utmost enthusiasm pervaded those present, and when the poet laureate rose to reply, he was greeted with loud applause, which continued for several minutes. Mr. Frechette said:—

"MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN,—For some time past I have abstained from public speaking, and there are those amongst my best friends who tell me that I have done well. To-day Montreal [31] and Quebec seem to have conspired against me, to oblige me to make two speeches on the same subject. This, though flattering to me, is hardly fair. If, having pleaded in one sense, I were asked to take the opposite ground, it might appear that such would not embarrass a lawyer, and one who has also been a politician, but in my present position I am called upon to treat the same question twice, and absolutely in the same sense. How can I discover something new to advance. Naturally, I felt embarrassed at the outset, but, at any risk, my duty is to respond to your flattering call, and thus to best avenge myself upon this conspiracy of my friends. It will not be surprising if I affirm that the occasion of this reunion has for me a character of especial solemnity. Seated at this festive board, I see the representatives of different nations, who, in private capacities also, have won general respect. I see, also, my fellow-citizens of Quebec and of Levis, my native town—the schoolmates of my earliest days—confreres in professional life and in the walks of literature—comrades of past political struggles—friends, ever indulgent and generous—political leaders of whom I have always been proud, and gentlemen of various origins, divergent opinions and different religious beliefs, all tendering me their warmest congratulations upon the success I have achieved in the literary world. No words of mine are adequate to express my feelings, not can I sufficiently thank you all for this spontaneous and sympathetic demonstration in honour of one who regrets that he is not more worthy of your favour. I can only accept your evidences of friendship with cordial emotion, thank you from the depth of my heart and bear with me from this hall a proud memory which will unite with the remembrances of my youth, all of which are so intimately identified with the hospitable people of Quebec, and, in so declaring, I am but assuring you that this remembrance will ever attend upon me. The past vouches for this; for when my tent of exile shook in the winds from off the great Western lakes, or slept on the bowery shores of Louisianian streams; when my traveller's skiff was rocked on the waters of the Southern gulfs, or was reflected on the blue waves of the Loire; when I had before me the wild majesty of Niagara, the immensity of the ocean, or when, filled with admiration, I paused to gaze upon the stupendous monuments of the Old World, my thoughts ever instinctively flew back to the good old city of Champlain, unparalleled in the world for the picturesque splendor of its site, and the poetry which no less issues from the very stones of its fortress, than it lingers upon every page of its history. Yes! Old Quebec! In all places I have cherished with devotion every memory of you, for within your walls my heart first opened to the noble teaching of intellect! It is your lofty embrasures—your flag, bravely floating in the skies—your abrupt rock, your stretches of ramparts, your brilliant steeples, reflecting their beauty on the bosom of the St. Lawrence, mingled with the sails of your cosmopolitan navies; which, for the first time, awoke the poetic enthusiasm in my breast. Long ago I first saw these scenes from the window of an humble cottage of Levis, half-hidden in a screen of foliage; and in my youngest days, ere I knew the method or formation of a verse, I felt the fluttering against the cage of my heart of that golden bird, whose sonorous voice is styled Poetry. In fact, gentlemen, I was carried towards a literary career from the very outset, and in this connection you will permit me to relate a little anecdote. You will pardon me if I appear egotistical, but your cordial reception warrants me in looking for your indulgence. I had learned to read in a book full of reveries and sentiment, entitled 'Letters or the poet Gilbert to his sister.' Of course I understood but little of it, yet it made a deep impression on my imagination. One day my father, an honest man and good citizen, if there were ever any such, but who had nothing in common with the Muses, asked my brother and I what professions we would adopt when we grew big. 'For me,' replied my happy-hearted brother Edmond, 'I will be a carter,' and 'I will be a poet,' I immediately added. I still remember my father's smile of affectionate pity when he heard these unexpected declarations from the hopes of his declining years. "My poor children," said he, with a resigned air, "these two occupations will never lead you to wealth and fortune." Later I understood the wise reflection of my father, but no one carves out his own destiny and he must submit to fate. I have vainly tried other careers but finally was obliged to return to this dream of my infancy. As the poet says,

"Drive away the natural, and it returns at full speed."

Yes, dear old City of Quebec, so old and so glorious, so beautiful in your ensemble and so characteristic in your details, so cordial and so hospitable, in presence of your noblest children assembled here to welcome me, within your old walls, let me give this testimony, that if I have had the happiness of causing the Canadian name to be heard in the immortal shrine of French literature it is to you I owe it, and to you is my gratitude offered. For I must tell you, gentlemen, that I loved Quebec too much, at the distance, not to hasten across the river, when the bird felt that his wings were strong enough to fly. At that time the greatest of the poets of Quebec, Octave Cremazie, sang the glories of our ancestors and the brave deeds of old France. His energetic and inspired voice excited youthful emulation. A group of budding writers surrounded him, but each one felt timid and hesitated to tune his notes amongst the loud echoes of his vigorous patriotism. Alas! the star fled from our skies, another generation of enthusiastic poets and writers disputed the honour of seizing the lyre, so heavy for their fingers, which had been left on the rock of Quebec, by the author of the Flag of Carillon. O! my old comrades, do you think as frequently as do I, of those old days, when with hearts full of poetic illusions, we united our talents, our hopes and I might add our poverty, to establish that spiritual association in which the beautiful was idolized, seekers as we were after the ideal, dealers in mental bijouterie, despised at first by some, but which succeeded more than once in directing the attention of literary France to our shores? Do you, at times, remember our joyful meetings, our interminable readings, our long hours of continued study and waking reveries in common—do you yet remember the bewildering evenings in which the glass of Henri Murger mingled its sonorous tinklings, bright and merry, to the love-song of our flowery youth? We were all rivals, but

"Our hearts, as our lute, vibrated as one,"

and God knows that this rivalry never severed the bonds of affection which united us, and so was founded what has since been styled the Mutual Admiration Society. Mutual Admiration Society! If we were to consider the number of books, dress-coats, gloves and other articles of more intimate character that were exchanged between us, it might more safely have been called the Society for Mutual Support. At all events, from the spectacle before me this evening I gather that this Society of Mutual Admiration, if admiration it must be termed, has taken a singular development since I had the honour of assisting so frequently at its meetings, and there is nothing surprising in this, since one of the most distinguished of the founders of this society, Mr. Faucher de St. Maurice, informed me the other day that the society in question was about to annex the French Academy. (Laughter.) But to be serious, allow me to recount another anecdote. There was a time, gentlemen, when our Mutual Admiration was far from being so ambitious as to dream of having a succursale under the rotunda of the French Institute. But if our productions were meagre, our revenues were still more so, and famine often reigned in the chests of the confraternity. However we had our own days of abundance when there was corn in Egypt. The first Quebecer who understood that poetry, unlike perpetual motion, could not feed itself, was a brewer, whose memory is now legendary and who was known by the harmonious name of McCallum. Arthur Casgrain, who in a couple of years afterwards we sorrowfully bore to the cemetery, had thought of composing an Epic on the Grand Trunk. This was called "La grande Tronciade!" Well in one of the twelve parts of this production, so very original, there were three remarkable lines.

"Buvons, buvons, amis, de ce bon maccallome, Venant directement du brasseur qu'il denome! C'est ca qui vous retape et vous refait un homme?"

The effect was magical. The heart of the brewer was touched. A long waggon on which we could read the eloquent words "pale ale and porter" stopped next day before our door. For twenty minutes a man with burthened step climbed the Jacob's ladder which led to the poet's attic, and one hundred and forty-four bottles of inviting appearance ranged themselves around the chamber. I cannot picture the joy of the happy recipient. In his enthusiasm he offered me a community in his good fortune—of course under a pledge of inviolable secrecy. But as I felt the imperious necessity of communicating my emotions I was as wanting in discretion as he had been, and that evening all the Bohemians, students and literary friends even to the remotest degree followed in the wake of McCallum's bottles, and invaded the attic chamber of poor Arthur (your good-natured cousin, Mr. President.) There we had French, English, Latin and Greek speeches in prose and in verse. Arsene Michaud has even prepared a story for the occasion. In brief, the hecatomb was made; the libation was Olympic, the twelve dozen disappeared and on the morrow poor Casgrain showed me with a sad face the Homeric remains of his one day's wealth, and in a lamentable tone of despair he exclaimed: "I will have to write another poem." Gentlemen, that was the first time in Canada that poetry made a return to its author, and in tasting these delicate viands which the hospitable city of Quebec now offers to one of those early Bohemians in recognition of his literary success, I could not fail to recollect with emotion this amusing circumstance now enveloped, with other scenes of youth, sometimes glad—sometimes sorrowful, in the shadowy robe of past recollections. Another story just suggests itself to my mind. Lusignan and I occupied the attic of an old house in Palace street. Our room was heated by a stove-pipe, which reached from the lower apartments. One day I had published in Le Canadien—Tempora Mutantur—a little poem in which was the following line:

"Shivering in my attic poor."

The next day a surprise awaited us. A dumb stove had replaced the mere stove-pipe, and while holding our sides from laughter we heard this speech: "Gentlemen, we are very indulgent, considering your noisy meetings—we are not very particular when rent-day arrives—and if you so shivered in your room, it would have been better to have said so privately, than to have complained of it in the newspapers." (Laughter.) Poor Mrs. Tessier, our landlady—she was not well acquainted with figures of speech, but she has been the Providence of many of the destitute, and more than one who hears me now can say as I do, that no better or more obliging heart ever beat in a more pitiful bosom towards purseless youth. And who knows, it is perhaps due to this sympathetic feeling of its population towards literary men and writers that this city of Quebec has seen such an array of talent within her bosom, such a succession of Pleiades of distinguished litterateurs, who have glorified her name and that of their country. For the last fifty years, men eminent in all branches of literature have made a gorgeous and resplendent aureole around the city of Quebec. In the generation immediately preceding us, we see Petitclerc, Parent, Soulard, Chauveau, Garneau, L'Ecuyer, Ferland, Barthe and Real Angers, these grand pioneers of intellect, who in history, poetry, drama and romance, made such a wide opening for the generation which followed them. Then we have l'Abbe Laverdiere, l'Abbe Casgrain, LeMoine, Fiset, Tache, Plamondon, LaRue, and the first among all Octave Cremazie, who coming at different times bravely and constantly continued the labours of their predecessors, until we reach the brilliant phalanx of contemporary writers, Lemay, Fabre, l'Abbe Begin, Routhier, Oscar Dunn, Faucher de St. Maurice, Buies, Marmette and Legendre, all charged with the glorious task of preserving for Quebec her legitimate title of the Athens of Canada. And how could it be otherwise? Is not Quebec the cradle of our nationality—the spot whereon is engraved the most illustrious pages of our history—heroic annals, touching souvenirs, all combining with the marvels of nature to speak here the soul of the historian and of the poet. What a flourishing field for the historian and poet is not the tale of that handful of Breton heroes, who, three centuries ago, planted on the rock of Quebec the flag of Christianity and civilization! What innumerable sources of inspiration can we not find in our majestic river, our gigantic lakes, our grand cascades, our lofty mountains, our impenetrable forests and in all that grand and wild nature, which will ever be the characteristic feature of our dear Canada. Oh! our history, gentlemen! Oh, the picturesque beauties of our country! Two marvellous veins—two mines of precious material open at our feet. The European writers are ever striving to discover something fresh. Having exhausted all kinds of themes, they are now stooping to the dust to find an originality which seems to fly from them. Well, this freshness, this originality, so courted and so rare now-a-days, may be found within our grasp,—it is there in our historical archives—in our patriarchal customs—in the many characters of a people young and thirsting for independence—a robust and healthy poetry, floats on our breezes—breathes in our popular songs—sings in the echoes of our wild forests, and opens graceful and proud her white wings to the winds of the free aspirations of the new world. To us this virgin field belongs, gentlemen! Take from Europe her form and experience, but leave to her, her old Muses. Let us be true to ourselves! Be Canadians and the future is ours. "That which strikes us most in your poems" said a member of the French Academy to me, "is that the modern style, the Parisian style of your verses is united to something strange, so particular and singular—it seems an exotic, disengaged from the entire." This perfume of originality which this writer discovered in my writings was then unknown to myself. What was it? It was the secret of their nationality,—the certificate of their origin, their Canadian stamp! And it is important for us, gentlemen, never to allow this character to disappear. Let our young writers stamp it broadly on their pages and then advance to their task, they need no longer fear the thorns on the way. The path is wide open and millions of readers await their efforts. To the work then; France offers us her hand, and now that we have renewed the bonds between us and our illustrious and well-beloved mother country—bonds broken by the vicissitudes which occur in the life of peoples, we shall be enabled once more to prove the great truth enunciated by Bulwer Lytton in "Richelieu," that

"The pen is mightier than the sword."

The Chairman called upon Hon. Wilfred Laurier to propose the next toast.

Hon. Mr. Laurier, on being called on to propose the toast of the Academy of France, was loudly cheered on rising, and the enthusiasm became the greater as he advanced, showing the many claims the great French tribunal of letters had upon the attention of the learned word. He spoke of the old ties which bound France and Canada, and alluded to the argument of Doucet, the French Academician, in favour of the admission of Frechette to the French concours, viz., that when France was in the throes of agony, the voice of French Canada spoke out its loud attachment to the cause of the ancient mother country. In such action was the forgotten daughter restored to its sorrowing mother. The hon. gentleman then in language of forcible eloquence referred to the pleasure shown by English-Canadians at the success of Mr. Frechette, and concluded a highly intellectual and eloquent speech, amidst the reiterated cheers of the whole assemblage.

The Chairman then proposed the toast of English and French literature.

Mr. George Stewart, jr., who on rising was greeted with cheers, said:—

MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN:—I must thank you for the very enthusiastic manner in which you have just drank to this toast, and for the cordiality with which you have been good enough to receive my name. Before asking you to consider with me the subject which has just been so happily proposed from the chair, I would ask your permission to say how gratified I am at being present, this evening, to assist you in paying homage to one whom we all delight to honour, and at whose feet it is our special privilege to sit. (Cheers.) It is all of seventeen years since Mr. Frechette gave to the public, in a little book, the best fruits of his youthful muse, but those early efforts of his mind gave abundant promise of future excellence and hope,—a promise which has since been admirably and delightfully fulfilled. I cannot tell you how proud we all feel,—we who speak the English tongue, alike with you who utter the liquid and mellow language of Beranger and De Musset,—that the "Forty Immortals" of Mother France, recognized in Mr. Frechette,—what all of us knew before,—that he was a tender and graceful poet, and that his work is as pure and sweet as anything to be found in the lyric poetry of our time. (Cheers.) Mr. Frechette had not to go abroad to find that out, but it is pleasing to us all to find our opinions confirmed and ratified by the highest authority in France. I again thank you, gentlemen, for the privilege which you have afforded me of saying these few words regarding our laurel-crowned poet and guest. (Applause.) With regard to the subject which has brought me to my feet, what am I to say? I might dilate upon the beauties of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, or Edmund Spenser's immortal Faerie Queene, or Shakespeare's tender women, the Juliet we love, the Rosalind who is ever in our hearts, the Beatrice, the Imogen, gentle Ophelia, or kindly but ill-starred Desdemona, or the great heroes of tragedy, Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet or Othello, or I might ask you to hear a word about Ben Jonson, "rare Ben," or poor Philip Massinger who died a stranger, of the Puritan Milton, the great Catholic Dryden, or Swift, or Bunyan, Defoe, Addison, Pope and Burke and grim Sam Johnson who made the dictionary and wrote Rasselas, the Prince of Abyssinia, but there is not time for us to go into the subject as minutely as that. At a dinner of this kind, which is so rich in every delicacy which the most sensitive palate could desire, and which boasts wines as delicate and as fragrant in bouquet as one of Mr. Frechette's sonnets—(Cheers)—and I might add also as one of my friend LeMay's hopefullest lyrics— (Cheers), it would be ungenerous of me to keep you very long. I will content myself therefore with a remark or two regarding the peculiar features which seem to inspire our literature, at the present time, and by our literature I mean English literature in its broadest sense and amplest significance. Perhaps at no period of letters, in the whole history of literature from the days of Chaucer and Raleigh, from the renaissance, through the classic period, to more modern times, to our own day in fact, has the cultured world seen such a brilliant array of brilliant men and women, who write the English prose which delights our fire-sides, and enriches our minds at the present time. The world has never presented to mankind before, in all its years of usefulness, such a galaxy of great essayists and novelists as we have enjoyed and enjoy now, within a period of fifty or sixty years, and which properly belong to our own age. The era is rich in stalwart minds, in magnificent thinkers, in splendid souls. Carlyle, Emerson, Wilson, Morley, Froude, Holmes, Harrison, Darwin, Huxley, Spencer, Mill, Buckle, Lewes. In fiction the list is too long for mention, but, in passing, I may note George Eliot—a woman who writes as if her soul had wings, William Black who paints almost as deftly as Walter Scott, Thomas Hardy, Anthony Trollope, Thackeray, Dickens, Reade, William Howells, who has not forgotten to write of the grandeur of the Saguenay, and William Kirby whose Chien d'Or will serve to keep a memory green in many a Quebecer's heart. I need hardly name more. The list could, I am well aware, be extended indefinitely, and as each of you doubtless has your favourite novelist, I need not waste your time by the simple enumeration of men and women who have from time to time, beguiled away the hours with their stories of the heart, or of purpose, or of endeavour. We get blase now and then perhaps through the reading of so many moderns, but the cure for that lies within easy range. We can take a peep at those old fellows in old- fashioned bindings, who used to delight our grandfathers in the "brave days of old," when Richardson told the story of "Pamela," and "Clarissa Harlowe," when Fielding wrote "Tom Jones," and Smollett narrated the history of "Humphrey Clinker," and the career of "Tristram Shandy" found a truthful historian in that mad parson Lawrence Sterne. We might even read those ancient authors, ancient in style at least, for a change, and still be reading English literature in its truest and widest sense. But it is less with the fiction- writers that we have to deal, than with the thinkers who have given to belles-lettres in this age, its robustness and vigour. In political economy, in scientific thought, in history, in moral philosophy and in polite learning, and in criticism, I think our day has produced the greatest teachers, as well as the largest number of them since the English tongue had a literature of its own. (Applause.) This is true at least in prose writing. I know that in poetry we are surpassed in grandeur and majesty by the bards of other periods of our mental activity, I know that we have not produced a Milton yet, nor a Dryden, nor a Pope—I leave Shakespeare and Chaucer out of the question, nor a Spenser. We have very many more than our share of really tuneful singers and fine poets like Tennyson and Longfellow, Morris and Swinburne, the Arnolds and Lowell—all of them sweet and in every way charming, none of them grand and magnificent like the sons of song of the great days of poesy. We have singers and singers, minor poets and minor poets, all engaged in weaving for our delight very many pretty fancies; graceful story-tellers in verse, if you will, but our chief strength lies in prose, sober, scholarly and healthful prose. Our fame will rest on that branch of the service. (Applause.) Turning to Canada, I might say that our mental outfit is by no means beggarly. In fiction we have produced, and I confine myself particularly to those who have written in English, Judge Haliburton, James DeMille, Wm. Kirby, John Lesperance. (Applause.) In poetry, Heavysege, John Reade, Roberts, Charles Sangster, Wm. Murdoch, Chandler, Howe; in history, Beamish Murdoch, Todd, Morgan, Hannay, Mr. LeMoine—(Applause)—whom I see present here to night; Dr. Miles, Mr. Harper, the efficient Rector of our High School, and others of more or less repute. In Science, Dr. Dawson and Sir Wm. Logan; in logic, Wm. Lyall; in rhetoric, James DeMille. In political and essay writing we have a good list, the most prominent names being Goldwin Smith, whom we may fairly claim, Bourinot, Haliburton, Todd, Howe, Elder, Ellis, Griffin, Anglin, Dymond, McDougall, White. (Cheers.) And here I would just say to you—for I have spoken longer than I intended—over-taxed your patience I fear very much—that we must, if we would ever become great in helping to form current thought and the intellectual movement of the day, renounce all sectionalism in letters, and go in for the great goal which all may aspire to who wish. When the French Academy hailed our friend Frechette as a brother poet, the act was not done because he was a Canadian, but because he was a poet, writing and speaking the French tongue. (Applause.) There is no such thing really as Canadian literature or American literature. It is all English literature, and we should all strive to add to the glory of that literature. We can do it, in our way, as well as Moore and Lover and Lever and Carleton and McGee did, when they added the splendid work of their genius to build up the renown and prestige of the parent stock. (Applause.) As Scott and Burns, Dunbar and Hector McNeill, and Tannahill and James Hogg and bluff "Kit North;" all of Scotland, did to make the English literature massive and spirited and grand. (Applause.) As Hawthorne and Longfellow, Holmes and Bryant, Cooper and Irving, and Motley did, and as our own John Reade (cheers) and Charles Roberts, a new poet whose star has just arisen, and Bourinot— (cheers)—and the rest of them are doing now. We must forget the small localism which can do us no good, and join the great brotherhood of letters which writes the world over, in the English tongue. France, Germany and Russia, Italy and Spain teem with the grand work of their children. We who speak and write in the English language must not be unmindful of our several duties. We must work for the attainment of the great end, the development of English literature, of which we are as truly a part as the authors of the United States, of Scotland, of Ireland and of England. English literature does not mean simply a literature written solely by Englishmen. It takes its name from the fact that it draws its nourishment from all writers who write in English, and Scotchmen, Irishmen, Americans, and colonists, as well as citizens of England are invited to add to its greatness and permanency. I thank you Mr. Chairman and you gentlemen for your kindness and forbearance in listening to me so long, and so patiently. (Loud continued cheering.)

Mr. Lemay, in replying for French literature, said—It is particularly agreeable to be called on to speak on this occasion because it affords me the opportunity to render to our host an evidence of the admiration and friendship which I bear towards him this evening. It is now over twenty years since we were together at College, and the same tastes which pleased us then govern us now. The same destiny which led us towards the bar guided us also on the paths of literature. The speaker here improvised a magnificent address to the genius of French-Canadian letters. He alluded to the first pages of Canadian history written in the blood of martyrs, thus giving to the Canadian people a literature of heroes. The speaker then traced the changeful epochs from the days of the soldiers of the sword to the warriors of the pen, and he drew forth loud applause as he alluded to the brave polemists who traced their literary endeavors in the brave work of defending their country and redeeming its liberties. In quoting Sir Geo. Cartier's well known line, "O Canada, my country and my love," ("O Canada, mon pays, mes amours,") the eloquent orator elicited the warm and hearty applause of the assemblage. From the troublous days of 1837 to the present moment, Mr. Lemay reviewed the various efforts at literary renown of the French Canadian people, and concluded one of the finest speeches of the evening amidst the tumultuous applause of his sympathising auditors.

The next toast was that of the Literary and Historical Society and of the Institut Canadien of Quebec.

Mr. J. M. LeMoine, in replying to the first part of the toast said:—

GENTLEMEN,—In the name of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, I thank you cordially for the health just proposed—As the President of a society numbering close on 400 members, who though diverse in creed and language, are united for one common object—the promotion of culture and science and the encouragement of historical studies,—I cannot help feeling I stand here somehow in the character of a representative man. In tendering a welcome to Mr. Frechette, our honoured guest, I can add but little to the sentiments conveyed in the resolution adopted at our last meeting and which you have heard read. In presence of so many distinguished persons, several of whom have made their mark, at the Bar—or on the Bench—the forum—in literature—in the bank parlor or in the counting house,—with so many fluent speakers here present and prepared to applaud, with all the graces of oratory and fervour of patriotism,—the distinction conferred on French Canada, by the highest literary tribunal in France—convinced myself of the honour which Mr. Frechette's laurels must confer on this ancient and picturesque Province of Quebec, with its glorious though yet unrevealed destinies, I feel proud as a Canadian in standing here, the bearer even of a solitary rosebud for the fragrant bouquet, which a grateful country offers this night to its gifted child. Alas! had not the relentless hand [32] of death—had not a self-imposed fate, darker even than death, removed from our midst, another "mind pregnant with celestial fire," Canada this night might possibly have counted two laurel-crowned poets—Louis Honore Frechette and Octave Cremazie. For I am not one of those who refuse to recognize Canadian talent; on the contrary, I feel myself moved to rejoice in our wealth of intellect. I am reminded to be brief; around me there is a surging stream of eloquence ready to burst through its floodgates. I must give way. With your permission, I shall therefore merely ask a question. What propitious turn of fortune? which of the benign fairies who watched over his natal hour has Mr. Frechette to thank for his present success? How came it to pass that, though he was born a poet, he should have to undergo an ordeal like another great poet (whom posterity may specially claim as an historian) the author of the "Lays of Ancient Rome," of emancipating himself from his earthy—at one time not burdensome—thraldom before soaring on the wings of poesy to that lofty region, where his classic diction and lyric power attracted the attention of those worthy but fastidious gentlemen, yclept "The Forty Immortals of the French Academy." I have mentioned a very illustrious name in the Republic of Letters,—a name as dear to Britain as that of our Laureate ought to be to Canada—that of Macaulay—historian, essayist, poet. You all know how his parliamentary defeat as candidate for Edinburgh in 1847, rescued him forever from the "dismal swamp" of politics, providing his wondrous mind, with leisure to expand and mature, in the green fields of literature. If New France has not yet produced such a gorgeous genius as he, of whom all those who speak Chatham's tongue are so justly proud, it has however out of its sparse population of one million, put forth a representative whom Old France with its thirty- eight millions has deemed a fit subject to honour in an unmistakable way. Shall I tell you how, figuratively, if you should prefer, ended for Frechette the "day of tumult"?

That Ignis Fatuus, ambition, has allured, as you are aware, more than one youthful fowler to an uncertain swampy hunting ground, called "politics." Mr. Frechette was one of the unfortunate. 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. There, too, might be seen the keen, bold features of Cartier, the first discoverer, and of Champlain, the first explorer of the new land, and the founder of Quebec. The gallant, restless Louis Buade de Frontenac was pictured there, side by side with his fair countess, called, by reason of her surpassing loveliness, "The Divine." Vaudreuil, too, who spent a long life of devotion to his country, and Beauharnois, who nourished its young strength until it was able to resist, not only the powerful confederacy of the Five Nations, but the still more powerful league of New England and the other English Colonies. There, also, were seen the sharp intellectual face of Laval, its first bishop, who organized the church and education in the colony; and of Talon, wisest of Intendants, who devoted himself to the improvement of agriculture, the increase of trade, and the well being of all the King's subjects in New France. And one more portrait was there, worthy to rank among the statesmen and rulers of New France—the pale, calm, intellectual features of Mere Marie de l'Incarnation—the first superior of the Ursulines of Quebec, who in obedience to heavenly visions, as she believed, left France to found schools for the children of the new colonists, and who taught her own womanly graces to her own sex, who were destined to become the future mothers of New France." (Page 109.)

It were difficult to group on a smaller and brighter canvass, so many of the glorious figures of our storied past.

In the days of de Montmagny and later, the Jesuits' Journal retraces gay scenes at the Chateau in connection with the festivals of the patron saints, of St. Joseph, whose anniversary occurred on the 19th March, and of St. John the Baptist, whose fete happened on the 24th June.

For a long time the old Chateau, was the meeting place of the Superior Council.

"On any Monday morning one would have found the Superior Council in session in the antechamber of the Governor's apartment, at the Chateau St. Louis. The members sat at a round table, at the head was the Governor, with the Bishop on his right and the Intendant on his left. The councillors sat in the order of their appointment, and the attorney-general also had his place at the board. As La Hontan says, they were not in judicial robes, but in their ordinary dress and all but the Bishop wore swords. The want of the cap and the gown greatly disturbed the Intendant Meules, and he begs the Minister to consider how important it is that the councillors, in order to inspire respect, should appear in public in long black robes, which on occasions of ceremony they should exchange for robes of red. He thinks that the principal persons of the colony should thus be induced to train up their children to so enviable a dignity; "and" he concludes, "as none of the councillors can afford to buy red robes, I hope that the King will vouchsafe to send out nine such; as for the black robes, they can furnish those themselves."

"The King did not respond, and the nine robes never arrived. The official dignity of the Council was sometimes exposed to trials against which even red gowns might have proven an insufficient protection. The same Intendant urges that the tribunal ought to be provided immediately with a house of its own."

"It is not decent," he says, "that it should sit in the Governor's antechamber any longer. His guards and valets make such a noise, that we cannot hear each other speak. I have continually to tell them to keep quiet, which causes them to make a thousand jokes at the councillors as they pass in and out. As the Governor and the council were often on ill terms, the official head of the colony could not always be trusted to keep his attendants on their good behaviour." (Parkman's Old Regime, p. 273.)

At other times, startling incidents threw a pall over the old pile. Thus in August 1666, we are told of the melancholy end of a famous Indian warrior: "Tracy invited the Flemish Bastard and a Mohawk chief named Agariata to his table, when allusion was made to the murder of Chasy. On this the Mohawk, stretching out his arm, exclaimed in a Braggart tone, "This is the hand that split the head of that young man." The indignation of the company may be imagined. Tracy told his insolent guest that he should never kill anybody else; and he was led out and hanged in presence of the Bastard. [33]

Varied in language and nationality were the guests of the Chateau in days of yore: thus in 1693, the proud old Governor Frontenac had at one and the same time Baron Saint Castin's Indian father-in-law, Madocawando, from Acadia, and "a gentleman of Boston, John Nelson, captured by Villebon, the nephew and heir of Sir Thomas Temple, in whose right he claimed the proprietorship of Acadia, under an old grant of Oliver Cromwell." (Parkman's Frontenac, p. 357.)

FORT ST. LOUIS

Ere one of the last vestiges of the ancien regime, Haldimand Castle, disappears, a few details culled from reliable sources may not be unacceptable, especially as by fire, repairs and the vicissitudes of time, the changes are so great, as to render difficult the delineation of what it originally formed part of in the past.

Grave misconceptions exist as to what constituted the stately residence of our former Governors. Many imagine that the famous Chateau St. Louis, was but one structure, whilst in reality, it was composed at one time of three, viz:—Fort St. Louis, Chateau St. Louis and Haldimand Castle, the present Normal School. The writer has succeeded in collecting together nine views of the Fort and Chateau St. Louis since the days of Champlain down to modern times. Champlain's "brass bell" is conspicuous in more than one of the designs.

According to Father DuCreux, the first fort erected by Champlain on the crest of the promontory, arx aedificata in promontarii cuspidine, was not placed on the site of Dufferin Terrace, but at the south-east point of the area, which is now occupied by the Grand Battery, north-east of the present Parliament building and looking down on Sault-au-Matelot street. Champlain subsequently removed it to a still more elevated site; its bastions, towers and ramparts surrounded the space on which the former Governor's residence, soldier's barracks, magazine, &c., were constructed.

"The fortress, says Bouchette, (Fort) of St. Louis covered about four acres of ground, and formed nearly a parallelogram; on the western side two strong bastions on each angle were connected by a curtain, in the centre of which was a sallyport: the other faces presented works of nearly a similar description, but of less dimensions." [34]

We may add that Fort St. Louis, shown on the plan of Quebec of 1660, published by Abbe Faillon, and more plainly exhibited on Jeffery's map of Quebec, published in London in 1760, disappears after the conquest. No mention is made of it in 1775, and still less in 1784, as a fortress.

Champlain, in his deposition, [35] sworn to, on the 9th Nov. 1629, in London, before the Right Worshipful Sir Henry Martin, Knight, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty, describes minutely, the armament and belongings of Fort St. Louis, on the 9th August 1629, when he surrendered it to the Kirkes: cannon such as they were, and ammunition he seems to have had in abundance, without forgetting what he styles "the murderers with their double boxes or charges," a not excessively deadly kind of mitrailleuse or Gatling gun, we should imagine; the Fort also contained a smith's forge, carpenter's tools, machinery for a windmill, and a handmill to grind corn, a brass bell—probably to sound the tocsin, or alarm, at the approach of the marauding savages of Stadacona, the array of muskets—(thirteen complete)—is not formidable. Who was the maker of his pistol-proof coats-of-mail?

NEW CHATEAU ST. LOUIS.

"Such dusky grandeur clothed the height Where the huge castle holds its state, And all the steep slope down Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, Piled deep and massy, close and high Mine own romantic town." (Scott's Marmion.)

"Few circumstances of discussion and enquiry, says Hawkins, are more interesting than the history and fate of ancient buildings, especially if we direct our attention to the fortunes and vicissitudes of those who were connected with them. The temper, genius and pursuits of an historical era are frequently delineated in the features of remarkable edifices, nor can any one contemplate them without expressing curiosity, concerning those who first formed the plan, and afterwards created and tenanted the structure. These observations apply particularly to the subject of this chapter.

The history of the ancient Castle of St. Louis, or Fort of Quebec, for above two centuries the seat of Government in the Province (of Quebec), affords subjects of great and stirring interest during its several periods. The hall of the old Fort during the weakness of the colony was often a scene of terror and despair at the inroads of the persevering and ferocious Iroquois, who, having passed or overthrown all the French outposts, more than once threatened the fort itself and massacred some friendly Indians within sight of its walls. Here, too, in intervals of peace, were laid those benevolent plans for the religious instruction and conversion of the savages which at one time distinguished the policy of the ancient governors. At a later era, when, under the protection of the French kings, the province had acquired the rudiments of military strength and power, the Castle of St. Louis was remarkable as having been the site whence the French governors exercised an immense sovereignty, extending from the Gulf of St. Lawrence, along the shores of that noble river, its magnificent lakes, and down the course of the Mississippi to its outlet below New Orleans. The banner which first streamed from the battlements of Quebec was displayed from a chain of forts which protected the settlements throughout this vast extent of country, keeping the English colonies in constant alarm, and securing the fidelity of the Indian nations. During this period the council-chamber of the castle was the scene of many a midnight vigil [36]—many a long deliberation and deep-laid project to free the continent from the intrusion of the ancient rival of France and assert the supremacy of the Gallic lily. At another era, subsequent to the surrender of Quebec to the British armies, and until the recognition of the independence of the United States, the extent of empire of the government of which the Castle of Quebec was the principal seat, comprehended the whole American continent north of Mexico. It is astonishing to reflect for a moment, to how small, and, as to size, comparatively insignificant an island in the Atlantic ocean this gigantic territory was once subject. Here also was rendered to the representative of the French king, with all its ancient forms, the fealty and homage of the noblesse and military retainers, who held possessions in the province under the crown. A feudal ceremony, suited to early times, which imposed a real and substantial obligation on those who performed it, not to be violated without forfeiture and dishonour. The king of Great Britain having succeeded to the rights of the French crown, this ceremony is still retained.

"Fealty and homage is rendered at this day (1834) by the seigniors to the Governor, as the representative of the sovereign, in the following form: His Excellency being in full dress and seated in a state chair, surrounded by his staff, and attended by the Attorney-General, the seignior, in an evening dress and wearing a sword, is introduced into his presence by the Inspector General of the Royal Domain and Clerk of the Land Roll, and having delivered up his sword, and kneeling upon one knee before the Governor, places his right hand between his and repeats the ancient oath of fidelity; after which a solemn act is drawn up in a register kept for that purpose, which is signed by the Governor and the seignior, and countersigned by the proper officers." —(Hawkin's Picture of Quebec.)