As nay first object was to reach Quebec, I only stayed one day at
Montreal, which I employed in driving about to see what changes had
taken place in the town and neighbourhood since my former visit in 1826.
I started by steamer in the evening, and arrived early the next morning.

Is there any scene more glorious to look upon than that which greets the
eye from the citadel at Quebec? The only scene I know more glorious is
Rio Janeiro, which I believe to be by far the grandest in the world; but
the Rio lacks the associations of Quebec. Who can ever forget that
beneath its walls two chieftains, the bravest of the brave, fell on the
same battle-field--the one in the arms of victory, the other in defence
of his country and her honour? The spot where our hero fell is marked by
a pillar thus simply inscribed:--

HERE DIED
WOLFE,
VICTORIOUS.

Nor has the noble foe been forgotten, though for a long time unnoticed.
In the year 1827, the Earl of Dalhousie being Governor-General, a
monument was raised in Quebec to Wolfe and Montcalm; and the death they
both met at the post of honour is commemorated on the same column,--a
column on which an Englishman may gaze with pride and a Frenchman
without a blush. The following words, forming part of the inscription, I
think well worthy of insertion: "Military prowess gave them a common
death, History a common fame, Posterity a common monument."

It is a curious fact, that when the foundation-stone was laid, an old
soldier from Ross-shire, the last living veteran of the gallant band who
fought under Wolfe, was present at the ceremony, being then in his
ninety-fifth year. Everybody who has seen or read of Quebec must
remember the magnificent towering rock overhanging the river, on the
summit of which the citadel is placed, forming at once the chief
stronghold of its defence, and the grandest feature of its scenery. But
perhaps everybody does not know that to this same glorious feature the
city owes its name. The puny exclamation of Jacques Cartier's Norman
pilot upon beholding it was, "_Que bec_!" and this expression of
admiration has buried, in all but total oblivion, the old Algonquin name
of Stadacona. What a pity that old pilot was not born dumb.

The increase of population here does not seem, to be very rapid. In
1844, it was about 36,000; now, it is little more than 42,000. There can
be no doubt that the severity of the climate is one great cause of so
small an increase.