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As I left the church a man stepped up and served
upon me a paper with the following notice.
Assemblées Publiques pour l'independance du Canada.
Dimanche, à trois heures de l'après midi, à la Montagne, sur le plateau du côté Sud du chemin du Cimetière Anglais, près de l'hôtel Delmonico.
Lundi, à 8 heures du soir, au coin des rues La Montagne et St. Joseph.—Par Ordre
MEDERIC LANCTOT, Président. Montréal, Jeudi, 27 Aout 1868.
Public Meetings for the Independence of Canada.
Sunday at 3 p.m. on the heights near the mountain, on the South side of the English Cemetery Road, near Delmonico's Hotel.
Monday, at 8 o'clock, p.m., at the corner of Mountain and St. Joseph streets.- By Order
MEDERIC LANCTOT, President. Montreal, Thursday, 27 Aug. 1868. Fortunately Canada is so nearly Independent, that the further leap, to which discontented spirits would urge her, wonld scarcely produce any material change.
The English Cathedral is a beautiful structure. It is the purest specimen of Gothic architecture in America. It stands within a green enclosure, on a plateau between city and mountain. You will find many a Parish Church in England far more imposing, but none more attractive and ornate than this little minster of Montreal. Above the chancel arch is traced an illuminated text,
THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE. Aisles and nave are separated by columns of pure white
stone, crowned with carved capitals; which are alternately circled with sharp-edged acanthus, and clusters of vine
leaf and grape.
Those who rail at the inertia of England's National Church, will find no ground for their plaint in Canada. In the Dominion, its ministers are “of the people,” and work with their loins girded manfully to duty. Their ministrations are acceptable; their devotion to pure religion has its reward: for the lamp of service which young Edward's Bishops lighted and trimmed, burns steadily in the New World, amid wide-spread Unitarianism in New England, and Catholicism of Habitants and Irish.
I repeated my visit to the Cathedral in the evening, and again on returning to Montreal from the Great Lakes. Its service pleased me more and more. The singing at night was beautiful. The choir chanted the Psalms, and all the congregation joined in singing the beautiful hymns—“Nearer to Thee” and “Abide with me.” It seems to be my destiny to hear these favorite hymns wherever I go. I have heard the latter sung in English country-churches in fast-falling darkness, this night it was so on the banks of the St. Lawrence. The preacher had stirred up our hearts with his sermon from the noble words, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” Then came the closing hymn, appealing to us to remember whose presence alone can give strength and fortitude to live the righteous man's life. Green leaves waved against the diamond panes, as if telling a requiem for the dying eveningswelling a chorus of approval to sermon and song. When we came out of church, the moon was at full; we caught sight of shifting gleams of Aurora Borealis. All was silent to-night, but sometimes these grand lights
are accompanied by crackling sounds, caused by the clashing of electrical flames around them. On my return to Montreal, the citizens thronged the Cathedral to listen to a funeral sermon preached on the occasion of their Bishop's death. They had laid him to rest in hope, and now the preacher sought to improve the occasion, taking for his text the sublime and comforting words—“Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth ;" Rev. xiv, 13. On the next Sunday the Bishop of Rupert's Land occupied the Cathedral pulpit.
I attended evening service at St. Andrew's. This church is the largest and richest Scotch Presbyterian place of worship in the city. Its architecture is a close imitation of Salisbury Cathedral, though of course on a greatly reduced scale. As interior plan and order of service are somewhat unique, I will ventore to describe them. Organ and pulpit face each other on the ground floor. Each pew is constructed of polished ash or elm, and comfortably cushioned. The following is the order of service:
1.-A metrical Psalm (sung to the tune "Sun of my soul," choir standing, congregation sitting.)
2.-An extempore prayer by minister, (all males of congregation standing.)
9.-Collection. The church was very sparsely attended. I saw there a sea-captain acquaintance whom I had met on the steamer.
I heard him say that he had been at sea for twenty years, and captain on many voyages, before he knew the taste of whiskey. He was decidedly a temperance man.
I heard a lively story in connection with St. Andrew's. Where there is no endowment, a church to be rich, must have some rich parishioners. St. A. was fortunate in possessing this desirable thing. A. and D., two of the richest men in the city, turned their steps on Sundays to the Kirk at the foot of Beaver Hall Hill. It chanced that a new organ was wanted. Our two elders were both applied to, but neither of them would head a subscription list. Says D., “go to A. first;" says A., “Go to D., and what he gives I will likewise subscribe.” D. was grieved when the collectors went to him a second time without being able to quote his rich rival's example: and he said, “ Did A. really say that he would give as much as myself ?” “Yes.” “How much do you require for the "Four thousand dollars."
" Then put me down for 2,000 dollars, and let A. pay the rest.” When informed of this coup d'état, A. was taken in and no mistake! but he was bound in honor to pay his 2,000 dollars.
I heard the following tale of an old Scotch Presbyterian settler in Vermont from his son's lips. I repeat it not as a bon mot, but merely to show the strong hold which early training has upon us all. The village elders were raising subscriptions for a new organ to grace their meetinghouse, and during their canvass they called upon old Cameron. He listened patiently to their observations, 6. What is the usual thing in siller lifts,” said he. “One to five dollars,” replied the Deacons. “I will give you five dollars to keep the organ away,” was the old man's
The Parliament buildings at Ottawa are one of the marvels of Canada, the Victoria Bridge is another. The good folks of Montreal have reason to be proud of the iron tube which now spans old father Lawrence. Under its central girders, steam-ships pass on their way to and from the lakes; between its piers rush the waters of five inland seas.
Greatest triumph of all, is that which it wins against ice-floes. When the frost-bands relax in spring, huge fields of ice are sent careering down the stream, with the mighty strength of ocean-lakes. Then comes the tug of war. Flinty masses are packed, piled and frozen mountains high. It is granite against flint, man against nature, when a strain of 70,000 tons comes upon each buttress of the bridge. Art conquers, the work of Stephenson and Ross stands firm.
Walking up to the sally-port of the Grand Trunk, I was told by the guard, “no pass, no entrance." Said I to the canny Scott, “I have no pass but my own face, and I have brought it from very near your ain country.” Opposition vanished, and he kindly took me in. Half a mile of rubble embankment, leads from terra-firma on the north shore, to the mouth of the tube. A fortress was never more carefully protected against assaults of man, than is this railway mole, (by huge granite walls) against the onset of the polar king's forces. Each segment of the iron cavern rests upon solid towers of stone. The material was quarried fifteen miles up the river. It is a kind of blue limestone, flinty and difficult to work, yet once squared and set, it will run a race of endurance with Old Father Time himself. There is a gradual rise in the gradient, until in the central section, 25ft. is gained; when the iron way slants again to the southern side. The huge tunnel of 14 miles, expands and contracts six feet, as indicated by a sextant gauge at each entrance.