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beaux, going to make merry on the opposite shore. The passage is not of more than ten minutes dura. tion, yet there is a tavern bar on the lower deck, and a constant demand for cigars, liquors, and mint julepby the men only, I pray you to observe, and the Americans chiefly; I never saw the French peasants ask for drink.

Yesterday and to-day, feeling better, I have passed some hours straying or driving about on the British shore.

I hardly know how to convey to you an idea of the difference between the two shores; it will appear to you as incredible as it is to me incomprehensible. Our shore is said to be the most fertile, and has been the longest settled; but to float between them (as I did to-day in a little canoe made of a hollow tree, and paddled by a half-breed imp of a boy)—to behold on one side a city, with its towers and spires and animated population, with villas and handsome houses stretching along the shore, and a hundred vessels or more, gigantic steamers, brigs, schooners, crowding the port, loading and unloading; all the bustle, in short, of prosperity and commerce; -and, on the other side, a little straggling hamlet, one schooner, one little wretched steamboat, some windmills, a catholic chapel or two, a supine ignorant peasantry, all the symptoms of apathy, indolence, mistrust, hopelessness !-can I, can any one,

help wondering at the difference, and asking whence it arises? There must be a cause for it surely-but what is it? Does it lie in past or in present-in natural or accidental circumstances?—in the institutions of the government, or the character of the people? Is it remediable? is it a necessity? is it a mystery? what and whence is it?-Can you tell? or can you send some of our colonial officials across the Atlantic to behold and solve the difficulty?

The little hamlet opposite to Detroit is called Richmond. I was sitting there to-day on the grassy bank above the river, resting in the shade of a tree, and speculating on all these things, when an old French Canadian stopped near me to arrange something about his cart. We entered forthwith into conversation; and though I had some difficulty in making out his patois, he understood my French, and we got on very well. If you would see the two extremes of manner brought into near comparison, you should turn from a Yankee storekeeper to a French Canadian! It was quite curious to find in this remote region such a perfect specimen of an old-fashioned Norman peasant-all bows, courtesy, and good. humour. He was carrying a cart-load of cherries to Sandwich, and when I begged for a ride, the little old man bowed and smiled, and poured forth a volu. ble speech, in which the words enchanté! honneur! and madame! were all I could understand; but these were enough. I mounted the cart, seated myself in an old chair surrounded with baskets heaped with ripe cherries, lovely as those of Shenstone

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Scattering like blooming maid their glances round,
And must be bought, though penury betide!"

No occasion, however, to risk penury here; for after permission asked, and granted with a pleasant smile and a hundredth removal of the ragged hat, I failed not to profit by my situation, and dipped my hand pretty frequently into these tempting baskets. When the French penetrated into these regions a century ago, they brought with them not only their national courtesy, but some of their finest national fruits, plums, cherries, apples, pears, of the best quality-excellent grapes, too, I am told-and all these are now grown in such abundance as to be almost valueless. For his cart-load of cherries my old man expected a sum not exceeding two shillings.

Sandwich is about two miles below Detroit. It is the chief place in the Western District, the county town; yet the population does not much exceed four hundred,

I had to regret much the absence of Mr. Prince, the great proprietor of the place, and a distinguished member of our House of Assemby, both for ability and eloquence; but I saw sufficient to convince me that Sandwich makes no progress. The appearance of the place and people, so different from all I had left on the opposite side of the river, made me melancholy, or rather thoughtful. What can be the reason that all flourishes there, and all languishes here?

Amherstberg, another village about ten miles farther, contains about six hundred inhabitants, has a good harbour, and all natural capabilities; but here also no progress is making. There is a wretched

little useless fort, commanding, or rather not com. manding, the entrance to the Detroit river on our side, and memorable in the history of the last Ameri. can war as Fort Malden. There are here a few idle soldiers, detached from the garrison at Toronto; and it is said that even these will be re. moved. In case of an attack or sudden outbreak, all this exposed and important line of shore is absolutely without defence.*

Near Amherstberg there is a block of reserved land, about seven miles square, the property of a tribe of Huron or Wyandot Indians: it extends along the banks of the Detroit river, and is one of the finest regions for climate, soil, and advantages of every kind, in the whole province; of great impor. tance too, as lying opposite to the American shore, and literally a stumbling-block in the way of the white settlements, diminishing very considerably the value and eligibility of the lands around. Our gov. ernment has been frequently in negociation with these Indians to induce them to dispose of their lands, and I understood that fifteen thousand acres have lately been purchased from them. It is most certain, however, that in all these transactions they consider themselves aggrieved.

I have in my possession an original petition of these Wyandot Indians, addressed to Sir John Colborne. It appears that in 1829, the other lake tribes, the Chippewas, Pottowattomies, and Ottawas,

This was written on the spot. Since the late troubles in Upper Canada, it is understood to be the intention of Sir John Colborne to fortify this coast.

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claimed an equal right to these lands, and offered to dispose of them to our government. The Hurons resisted this claim, and were most unwilling to relinquish their right to keep and reside on their "own little piece of land." The petition, which has been translated by one of their missionaries in a style rather too ambitious and flowery, contains some very touching and beautiful passages. They open their statement of grievances thus :

"FATHER!

"Your Red children the Hurons approach you "under the gathering clouds of affliction. Father, "we visit you to tell you the sorrows of our hearts. "We have learned at a council that the three nations "of Ottawas, Chippewas, and Pottowattomies, claim

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our lands. We understand, with grief and sur"prise, that they proposed at that council to traffic "with you for our Huron reserve."

They then allude to their ancient contests with the Iroquois, by which they were driven up the lakes, as far as beyond Lake Michigan; and their return to their former hunting-grounds when these contests ceased.

"Our fires were quenched, and their ashes scat"tered; but, Father, we collected them again, " removed to our present homes, and there rekindled "the embers."

They allude to their services in the late war, as giving them a peculiar claim to protection.

"Father, when the war-hatchet was sent by our "great Father to the Americans, we too raised it

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