"The reading of this last despatch more than astonished me, and my astonishment was greater when I saw by the 'London Gazette' that it wascarried into effectby thenotificationabovealluded to. I have had no more opportunity to answer the second despatch of the Duke than thefirst one, which was marked 'confidential.' Allow me to add, that the 'Duke' expressed in his 'first communication' that he did not like to suggest that my name should be struck off the roll, because an ungenerous construction now and hereafter might be made against me by those not acquaintedwith the facts. Now, by the course followed, as explained in his second despatch, I feel as badly treated as if the first course had been adopted. In one case my name would have been ordered to be struck off the roll, and by the second course followed up, my name was ordered to be omitted in the second notification. There is not much difference between these two courses. I have written a letter to Lord Monck to complain of the second course followed up, inasmuch as there being no reason assigned for the omission of my name in the second notification, a construction ungenerous to myself and my children after me could now and hereafter be made. Excuse me for troubling you so long about that C.B. matter. Now, with regard to theHudson Bay matter, not the least doubt that the speech of 'John A.' was very uncalled for and injudicious. He had no business to make such a speech, and I told him so at the time— that he ought not to have made it. However, you must not attach too much importance to that speech. I myself and several of my colleagues, and John A. himself, have no intention to commit any spoliation; and, for myself in particular, I can say to you that I will never consent to be a party to a measure or anything intended to be an act of spoliation of the Hudson Bay's rights and privileges. I must bring this long epistle to a close.
"My kindest regards and respects to Mrs. Watkin.
"Remember me to your dear son, and believe me, my dear Mr. Watkin,
"Yours very truly,"GEO. E. CARTIER.
"E. W. WATKIN, Esq."
These discussions were both unfortunate and embarrassing; in the course of them, I had suggested that the way out of the difficulty was generously to offer a baronetcy to Mr. Cartier. During the discussion Dr. Tupper arrived in England. He cordially agreed with me. He deplored the mistake made, and, acting from his official position, and with the great judgment which he has always shown, he was able to assist in the desired happy solution.
On the 22nd of April I received the following letter:—
"WESTMINSTER PALACE HOTEL, "April 22nd, 1868.
"The Duke (of Buckingham) showed me (instrict confidenceuntil after the official announcement here) the copy of his telegram to Lord Monck, announcing the fact that the Queen had conferred a baronetcy upon Mr. Cartier, and a C.B. upon Langevin, and was pleased to say that he was very much indebted to me for having suggested it. I told him that I was satisfied that his Grace had conferred a signal service to our country, which would be productive of much good. Knowing how much pleasure this will give you I cannot forbear mentioning it, of course in confidence.
"I enclose a letter received to-day from our late lamented friend. Be good enough to return it to me. Ought I to communicate his wishes to Messrs. Hurst &
Blackwell? I had a long interview with Mr. Cardwell to-day. He will do anything in his power to aid in putting matters right in Nova Scotia, and is anxious that I should see Mr. Bright. Mr. C. takes your view as to the Union question having been an issue before the people in 1863, in the strongest manner.
"Yours faithfully,"C. TUPPER.
"E. W. WATKIN, Esq., M.P."
I feel assured that Mr. Cartier was moved, solely, by a regard for the honor of his compatriots.
"OTTAWA,"28th May, 1868.
"On Friday last, the 21st instant, our Parliament was prorogued. We have had a very hard and laborious session. For my part, I had charge of the two most difficult measures, the Militia and the Fortifications measures, which I carried through successfully, and which were sanctioned on the 21st instant. Without being considered guilty ofboasting, I can say, and every man in Parliament will say, that I was the only one who could carry through these measures. My Lower Canada Parliamentary strength supported me nobly. I consider that in carrying these two measures to successful issue, I have rendered a good service to Canada, to England, and to British transactions. I wanted to write you last week, before the closing of our session, but really I could not find a moment for so doing. During ten days we sat three times a day, and we had to attend our executive sittings during the very short intervals allowed us. I have not as yet answered your so kind letter of the 24th April last, nor your also kind former one of March last, and I hope you will have the goodness to excuse my delay. My dear Mr. Watkin, I do really not know how to thank you for all that you have done for me with regard to the injustice done me in the matter of the distribution of honors to the Confederation delegates, and with regard to the baronetcy which the Queen intends to confer on me. As you remark in your last note, I became aware of Her Majesty's intentions by acabletelegram to Lord Monck, and the lastmailhas brought a despatch to Lord Monck from the Duke of Buckingham to apprise meofficiallyof Her Majesty's intentions, and to request me to send to the Colonial Office my pedigree and my coat of arms, for the preparation of the letters patent to be issued. I am now procuring all the information and things required by the Heralds' College. The first telegram to Lord Monck was to offer me the baronetcy, and to ascertain if I would accept of it. I took a few days to consider the matter, as I would not do anything which might not have been approved by Galt and Langevin. Both of them urged me to accept; and consequently I made Lord Monck aware of my acceptance. A few days afterwards came anothercable telegram, informing Lord Monck that the Queen had conferred on me the baronetcy dignity, and the C.B. on Langevin. When the Queen's pleasure was announced in the House, there were cheers and approbation from both sides of the House. I have not theleastdoubt that I am under obligation to Lord Derby and to Lord Wharncliffe for their interference in my favour; and I must add, that I feel under stronger obligation to you for the honor conferred on me, first, for your havingmovedso kindly and so urgently Lord Wharncliffe, and, secondly, for your so chivalrous disinterestedness in having yourself declined the royal mark of favour offered to you by Mr. Disraeli, on the ground of the injustice at first done to me. My dear Mr. Watkin, I cannot forget such friendly and disinterested conduct on your part. I hope it will be in my power, in return, to be useful to you. Very likely I will have to go to England on the question ofdefencebefore the next Session of our Parliament, and I will not fail to say theproper wordsto the proper quarters; and if it were possible for me to do something by correspondence, I would gladly do it; but I don't know how to proceed, andwhomto move. Besides, I would not like to do or write anything which might not meet your wishes. I would like very much to know your views on that delicate question. I thank you for your suggestion to write a few lines to Lord Wharncliffe. I enclose you a letter for him, which I leave open, in order that you should see it. If the letter meets your views, be kind enough to seal it and to mail it to Lord Wharncliffe. I was so pleased the other day to hear from our friend Brydges, that your dear son had arrived in Montreal, and that his health is improving. I have not failed to let Langevin know your kind congratulations to him. He feels very thankful for the interest you take in him. I showed him your last note to me. I have duly transmitted to Mrs. Cartier and my daughters your kind message,—and they all feel grateful to you. I enclose you the Militia and Fortification measures as they finally passed. I enclose you also the return to anaddressfor the correspondence and despatches on the defence-fortification question. You may, perhaps, like to have all these papers. I enclose you also thereturnto an address for the correspondence on the C.B. matter, and the report of theSelect Committeeupon it; you will find the report of theCommitteein theNotes and Proceedingsof the 15th of May. It seemed to me, that you might like to have these documents, as you took such a degree of interest in Galt and myself. Do me the kindness to present my best regards to Mrs. Watkin, and to remember me kindly to your daughter when you write her.
"We are threatened with aFenianinvasion in the course ofJune next. We are preparing to meet it. It is too bad that theImperial Governmentshould allow such an hostile organization to be formed in the United States without aword of remonstrance. In the hope of hearing from you at your earliest convenience,
"Believe me, my dear Mr. Watkin,"Your sincere and grateful friend,"GEO. ET. CARTIER.
"E. W. WATKIN, Esq., M.P. London."
Sir George Cartier's allusion to the neglect by our Government in permitting, without remonstrance, the repeated invasion of Canada, makes one shiver with shame. As President Johnson said to me in 1865, "Why don't your people remonstrate?"
My countrymen may feel assured that if remonstrances, firm and dignified, had anticipated each known intended outrage—English and Irish-American conspiracies would have not been as now.
"ROSE HILL, NORTHENDEN, near MANCHESTER, "12th August, 1868.
"I, gladly, enclose a copy of the Gazette notice of your Baronetcy.
"I have had the fees at the Heralds' College, and also the stamps and expenses, through the Home Office, duly paid, and I will send you the papers and receipts as soon as I receive them.
"The completion of this matter will close the somewhat intimate connection which now for some years has given me, if trouble and anxiety, still deep pleasure and satisfaction,—in reference to your now united Provinces.
"With best wishes allow me to remain,"Yours very faithfully,"EDW. W. WATKIN.
"To the Hon. Sir G. E. CARTIER, Bart.,"Montreal, Canada."
"OTTAWA,"18th September, 1868.
"The last English mail has brought us the happy news that the honor of knighthood has been conferred on you by the Queen.
"Allow me to offer you, Lady Watkin, and your dear son and daughter, my sincere and heartfelt congratulations on the bestowal on you of so well deserved a distinction. You must bear in mind that I do not forget that the honor so recently bestowed on you would have been conferred on you a long time ago, had not your generous feelings towards me prompted you at one time to decline the same distinction. Lady Cartier and my daughters gladly unite with me in this expression of congratulation, which I now offer you, Lady Watkin, and your son and daughter. I hope that your future election will not give you much trouble, and that Canada and the British people will have again the benefit of your presence in Parliament.
"I may see you before long in England. Be kind enough to accept for you and Lady Watkin the assurance of the kindest regards of myself, Lady Cartier, and my daughters, "And, believe me, my dear Sir Edward, "Yours very truly,
"Sir EDWARD W. WATKIN, M.P., Kt., London."
"London,"Westminster Palace Hotel,"20th November, 1868.
"My dear Sir Edward,
"You cannot conceive how sorrowful I feel that the result of the election in Stockport was adverse to you. I was watching the incidents and proceedings connected with that election with such an interest and with such sure hope that you would be successful. You have no idea of my grief and disappointment when I became aware of your defeat. Our friend Brydges has mentioned to me some of thecauseswhich have militated against you amongst your constituents, viz. your having attended at the laying of the corner stone of a Roman Catholic School, and your drinking the health of the 'Pope' at thelunchwhichensued, and also thedispleasurewhich you haveincurred from Mr. Brightand some of his friends for not having supportedhiminhis motionfor Nova Scotia against the Confederation. I have already written to some of my colleagues in Canada to let them know there the'liberality'of these pretended 'Liberals' here. I hope you will not remain a long timeoutofParliament, and that very soon some vacancy will occur which will give you an opportunity to be re-elected, and to serve andadvocateagain in the Imperial Parliament, not only the interests of thethree British Isles, but also the Colonial interests, and particularly those of the Dominion of Canada, to which you have always attended with such ability, zeal, and ardour, that you have now the everlasting gratitude of every Canadian. I hope your electoralcontretemswill not deter you from your political pursuits. I would have had such a pleasure in congratulating Lady Watkin on your electoral success.
"I hope Lady Watkin, Miss Watkin, and your son are enjoying good health. Have the goodness to present my best regards to Lady Watkin, and to remember me kindly to your dear daughter and son; and, my dear Sir Edward, reiterating to you my sincere thanks for all you have done for me, and expecting the pleasure of seeing you very soon in London, believe me, as always,
"Your very sincere,"And devoted friend,"GEO. ET. CARTIER.
"Sir EDWARD W. WATKIN, 21, Old Broad Street, London.
"On my leaving Canada Lady Cartier and my daughters have asked me not to forget to present to you and Lady Watkin their best wishes and kindest regards, to remember them kindly to your son, and to offer their compliments to Miss Watkin, in the hope of making her acquaintance hereafter."
Disraeli—Beaconsfield.
No one aided the cause of Canada more readily than Mr. Disraeli, and I ought to explain how I first gained his confidence and kindness. But Mr. Philip Rose, who was his solicitor, his friend, his executor; who had stuck by him "per angusta ad augusta," was of priceless service in placing before him, from time to time, the facts, affecting Confederation, as I collected them.
My first acquaintance with Mr. Disraeli was the consequence of my connection, as an honorary secretary, with the "Manchester Athenaeum," a literary institute, originated in 1835 by Richard Cobden, on his return from a visit to his brother in the United States, a country at that time on the rage for social clubs with classic names. The "Manchester Athenaeum," owing partly to defective management and architectural costliness, partly to some years of bad trade and deficient employment, and partly to an unfortunate sectarian conflict, had fallen into debt and difficulty; and a few of the younger members, who had profited by the existence of the institution, came to the rescue, and by various methods got rid of its debts, and set it fairly on the way again. One method was, the holding of a great literary soiree in the Manchester Free Trade Hall. The audience was more than 4,000. The President was Charles Dickens.
On the morning of the day before the soiree, which took place on Thursday, the 5th of October, 1843, I received a note, in these terms, from Mr. Cobden:—
"MOSLEY St, "Wednesday.
"Dear Sir,
"Mr. Benj'n Disraeli, the author of 'Vivian Grey,' is at the MoselyArms Hotel, with Mrs. Disraeli.
"I wish you would call and invite them to the soiree.
"Yours truly,"R. COBDEN.
"Mr. E. Watkin,"High St."
I print the note exactly as it was written.
It has appeared to me, since, that Mr. Cobden at that time considered it necessary to identify Mr. Disraeli as Mr. "Benj'n" Disraeli, "the author of Vivian Grey."
I called accordingly, without delay. Mr. Disraeli was out, but I found Mrs. Disraeli at home. She was a little, plain, vivacious woman; one who, like an india-rubber toy, you have only to touch, and it issues sound. But she was obviously no common-place woman. Her comments upon what she had seen already in Manchester were acute, and, at times, decidedly humorous. They were those of a shrewd observer. We became good friends. She promised, both for herself and her husband, to attend the soiree; and, in answer to my further request that Mr. Disraeli would speak, she said, she "could almost promise that he would." The soiree of the next evening was brilliant. Dickens was at his very best; and it must have been difficult indeed to follow so admirable a speaker. But Mr. Disraeli certainly shared the honours and the applause of this great meeting. His speech, in fact, created so decided a sensation that I was asked to invite him to preside at the soiree of the coming year of 1844,—which he did. Few, who heard it, will forget the eloquent oration he delivered. I cannot forbear, out of place as it may seem to some, here to quote the concluding portions of this remarkable address; an address which I have never yet seen amongst the published speeches of Lord Beaconsfield:—
"If my description of what this institution offers to us, if my view of what it in some degree supplies, be just, what, I must inquire, is the reason that an institution, the prosperity of which now cannot be doubted, but so brief a time ago could have been apparently in the last stage of its fortunes? It is not an agreeable task—I fear it may be considered by some an invidious one—if I, who am a stranger among you, shall attempt to play the critic upon your conduct; but I feel confidence in your indulgence. I remember the kindness which has placed me in this honourable position, and therefore I shall venture to express to you the two reasons to which I think the dangerous state of our position must fairly be ascribed. I would say, in the first place, without imputing the slightest fault to the originators of this institution, wishing to be most distinctly understood as not only not imputing any fault to them, but most decidedly being of opinion that the fault does not lie at their door; still I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that, in the origin of this institution, by circumstances not foreseen, and which, certainly, were not intended, a party, a limited, and a sectarian feeling, in some degree pervaded its management. I confess, myself, that it appears to me that it would have been a marvel had it been otherwise. When we remember the great changes that had then but very recently occurred in this country—when we recall to our mind not only the great changes that had occurred, but the still greater that were menaced and discussed—when we remember what an influence is created when local jealousy blends with political passion—it is not difficult to imagine, because there are none of us present but in their sphere must have felt its influence—it is not wonderful that men of different political opinions should look with extreme jealousy upon each other. A combination of peculiar circumstances that created a balanced state of parties in those places where the struggle for dominion and power takes place, very much assisted this feeling; and that such a feeling existed throughout all England in a degree more intense and more virulent than has ever been equalled in the history of this country, I think no man will deny, and all must deplore. For my own part, I really believe that, had that party and sectarian feeling proceeded in the same ratio of virulence it has done for the last twelve or fourteen years, it must have exercised a barbarising influence upon public sentiments and public manners. There are some amongst us now, I know, who believe that the period has arrived when a great effort must be made to emancipate this country from the degrading thraldom of faction—to terminate, if possible, that extreme, that sectarian, and limited view, in which all human conduct is examined, observed, and criticized—to put an end to that exclusiveness, which, in its peculiar sphere, is equally deleterious as that aristocratical exclusiveness of manners which has produced so much evil; and, as far as I can form an opinion, these views have met with sympathy from every part of the country. I look upon it that to-night—I hope I am not mistaken—we are met to consummate and to celebrate the emancipation of this city, at least so far as the Athenaeum extends, from the influence of these feelings. I hope that our minds and our hearts are alike open to the true character of this institution, to the necessities which have created it, to the benefits to which it leads; and happy I shall be, and all, I am sure, who are assisting me this evening, if it prove that our efforts, however humble, may have assisted in so delightful and so desirable a consummation.
"Now that is one of the reasons, and one of the principal reasons, why I believe a blight seemed to have fallen over our fortunes. I think at the same time that there is another cause that has exercised an injurious effect upon the position, until recently, of this institution. I think that a limited view of its real character has been taken even by those who were inclined to view it in a spirit of extreme friendliness. It has been looked upon in the light of a luxury, and not of a necessity—as a means of enjoyment in the hour of prosperity, from which we ought to be debarred when the adverse moment has arrived; so that, when trade was prospering, when all was sunshiny, a man might condescend to occupy his spare hours in something else than in a melancholy brooding over the state of the country—that, when returns were rapid, and profits ready, one might deign to cultivate one's faculties, and become acquainted with what the mind of Europe was conceiving or executing; but these were delights to be reserved only for those chosen hours. Now that, I am bound frankly to say, is not the view which I take of this question—not the idea which I have formed of the real character of the Manchester Athenaeum. I look upon it as part of that great educational movement which is the noble and ennobling characteristic of the age in which we live. Viewing it in that light, I cannot consent myself that it should be supported by fits and starts. The impulse which has given us that movement in modern times, is one that may be traced to an age that may now be considered comparatively remote, though the swell of the waters has but recently approached our own shore. Heretofore society was established necessarily on a very different principle to that which is now its basis. As civilization has gradually progressed, it has equalized the physical qualities of man. Instead of the strong arm, it is the strong head that is now the moving principle of society. You have disenthroned Force, and placed on her high seat Intelligence; and the necessary consequence of this great revolution is, that it has become the duty and the delight equally of every citizen to cultivate his faculties. The prince of all philosophy has told you in an immortal apophthegm, so familiar to you all, that it is now written in your halls and chambers,—'Knowledge is power.' If that memorable passage had been pursued by the student who first announced this discovery of that great man to society, he would have found an oracle not less striking, and, in my mind, certainly not less true; for Lord Bacon has not only said that 'Knowledge is power,' but living one century after the discovery of the printing press, he has also announced to the world that 'Knowledge is pleasure.' Why, when the great body of mankind had become familiar with this great discovery— when they learned that a new source was opened to them of influence and enjoyment—is it wonderful that from that hour the heart of nations has palpitated with the desire of becoming acquainted with all that has happened, and with speculating on what may occur? It has indeed produced upon the popular intellect an influence almost as great as—I might say analogous to—the great change which was produced upon the old commercial world by the discovery of the Americas. A new standard of value was introduced, and, after this, to be distinguished—man must be intellectual. Nor, indeed, am I surprised that this feeling has so powerfully influenced our race; for the idea that human happiness is dependent on the cultivation of the mind, and on the discovery of truth, is, next to the conviction of our immortality, the idea the most full of consolation to man; for the cultivation of the mind has no limits, and truth is the only thing that is eternal. Indeed, when you consider what a man is who knows only what is passing under his own eyes, and what the condition of the same man must be who belongs to an institution like the one which has assembled us together to-night, is it—ought it to be—a matter of surprise that, from that moment to the present, you have had a general feeling throughout the civilized world in favour of the diffusion of knowledge? A man who knows nothing but the history of the passing hour—who knows nothing of the history of the past but that a certain person, whose brain was as vacant as his own, occupied the same house as himself, who in a moment of despondency or of gloom has no hope in the morrow because he has read nothing that has taught him that to-morrow has any changes—that man, compared with him who has read the most ordinary abridgment of history, or the most common philosophical speculation, is as distinct and different an animal as if he had fallen from some other planet, was influenced by a different organization, working for a different end, and hoping for a different result. It is knowledge that equalizes the social condition of man—that gives to all, however different their political position, passions which are in common and enjoyments which are universal. Knowledge is like the mystic ladder in the patriarch's dream. Its base rests on the primaeval earth—its crest is lost in the shadowy splendour of the empyrean; while the great authors, who for traditionary ages have held the chain of science and philosophy, of poesy and erudition, are the angels ascending and descending the sacred scale, and maintaining, as it were, the communication between man and heaven. This feeling is so universal that there is no combination of society in any age in which it has not developed itself. It may, indeed, be partly restrained under despotic governments, under peculiar systems of retarded civilization; but it is a consequence as incidental to the spirit and the genius of the Christian civilization of Europe as that the day should follow night, and the stars should shine according to their laws and order. Why, the very name of the institution that brings us together illustrates the fact—I can recall, and I think I see more than one gentleman around me who equally can recall, the hours in which we wandered amid
"Fields that cool Ilyssus laves.
At least, there is my honorable friend the member for Stockport (Mr. Cobden), who has a lively recollection of that classic stream, for I remember one of the most effective allusions he made to it in one of the most admirable speeches I ever listened to. But, notwithstanding that allusion, I would still appeal to the poetry of his constitution, and I know it abounds in that quality. I am sure that he could not have looked without emotion on that immortal scene. I still can remember that olive-covered plain, that sunset crag, that citadel fane of ineffable beauty! That was a brilliant civilization, developed by a gifted race more than two thousand years ago, at a time when the ancestors of the manufacturers of Manchester, who now clothe the world, were themselves covered with skins, and tattooed like the red men of the wilderness. But influences more powerful even than the awful lapse of time separate and distinguish you from that race. They were the children of the sun; you live in a distant, a rugged, and northern clime. They bowed before different altars; they followed different customs; they were modified by different manners. Votaries of the Beautiful, they sought in Art the means of embodying their passionate conceptions: you have devoted your energies to Utility; and by the means of a power almost unknown to antiquity, by its miraculous agencies, you have applied its creative force to every combination of human circumstances that could produce your objects. Yet, amid the toil and triumphs of your scientific industry, upon you there comes the undefinable, the irresistible yearning for intellectual refinement—you build an edifice consecrated to those beautiful emotions and to those civilizing studies in which they excelled, and you impress upon its front a name taken from—
"Where on AEgean shores a city rose,Built nobly, dear the air, and light the soil,Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of artsAnd eloquence."
Beautiful triumph of immortal genius! Sublime incentive to eternal fame! Then, when the feeling is so universal, when it is one which modern civilization is nurturing and developing, who does not feel that it is not only the most benevolent, but the most politic thing you can do to avail yourselves of its influence, and to direct in every way the formation of that character upon which intellect must necessarily now exercise an irresistible influence? We cannot shut our eyes any longer to the immense revolution. Knowledge is no longer a lonely eremite, affording a chance and captivating hospitality to some wandering pilgrim; knowledge is now found in the market-place, a citizen, and a leader of citizens. The spirit has touched the multitude; it has impregnated the mass—
"——Totamque infusa per artus,Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet.
"I would yet say one word to those for whom this institution is not entirely but principally formed. I would address myself to that youth on whom the hopes of all societies repose and depend. I doubt not that they feel conscious of the position which they occupy—a position which, under all circumstances, at all periods, in every clime and country, is one replete with duty. The youth of a nation are the trustees of posterity; but the youth I address have duties peculiar to the position which they occupy. They are the rising generation of a society unprecedented in the history of the world; that is at once powerful and new. In other parts of the kingdom the remains of an ancient civilization are prepared ever to guide, to cultivate, to influence, the rising mind; but they are born in a miraculous creation of novel powers, and it is rather a providential instinct that has developed the necessary means of maintaining the order of your new civilization than the matured foresight of man. This is their inheritance. They will be called on to perform duties—great duties. I, for one, wish, for their sakes and for the sake of my country, that they may be performed greatly. I give to them that counsel which I have ever given to youth, and which I believe to be the wisest and the best —I tell them to aspire. I believe that the man who does not look up will look down; and that the spirit that does not dare to soar is destined perhaps to grovel. Every individual is entitled to aspire to that position which he believes his faculties qualify him to occupy. I know there are some who look with what I believe is short-sighted timidity and false prudence upon such views. They are apt to tell us— 'Beware of filling the youthful mind with an impetuous tumult of turbulent fancies; teach youth, rather, to be content with his position—do not induce him to fancy that he is that which he is not, or to aspire to that which he cannot achieve.' In my mind these are superficial delusions. He who enters the world finds his level. It is the solitary being, the isolated individual, alone in his solitude, who may be apt to miscalculate his powers, and misunderstand his character. But action teaches him the truth, even if it be a stern one. Association affords him the best criticism in the world, and I will venture to say, that if he belong to the Athenaeum, though when he enters it he may think himself a genius, if nature has not given him a passionate and creative soul, before a week has elapsed he will become a very sober-minded individual. I wish to damp no youthful ardour. I can conceive what such an institution would have afforded to the suggestive mind of a youthful Arkwright. I can conceive what a nursing- mother such an institution must have been to the brooding genius of your illustrious and venerated Dalton. It is the asylum of the self- formed; it is the counsellor of those who want counsel; but it is not a guide that will mislead, and it is the last place that will fill the mind of man with false ideas and false conceptions. He reads a newspaper, and his conceit oozes out after reading a leading article. He refers to the library, and the calm wisdom of centuries and sages moderates the rash impulse of juvenescence. He finds new truths in the lecture-room, and he goes home with a conviction that he is not so learned as he imagined. In the discussion of a great question with his equals in station, perhaps he finds he has his superiors in intellect. These are the means by which the mind of man is brought to a healthy state, by which that self-knowledge that always has been lauded by sages may be most securely attained. It is a rule of universal virtue, and from the senate to the counting-house will be found of universal application. Then, to the youth of Manchester, representing now the civic youth of this great county and this great district, I now appeal. Let it never be said again that the fortunes of this institution were in danger. Let them take advantage of this hour of prosperity calmly to examine and deeply to comprehend the character of that institution in which their best interests are involved, and which for them may afford a relaxation which brings no pang, and yields information which may bear them to fortune. It is to them I appeal with confidence, because I feel I am pleading their cause—with confidence, because in them I repose my hopes. When nations fall, it is because a degenerate race intervenes between the class that created and the class that is doomed. Let them then remember what has been done for them. The leaders of their community have not been remiss in regard to their interests. Let them remember, that when the inheritance devolves upon them, they are not only to enjoy but to improve. They will one day succeed to the high places of this great community; let them recollect those who lighted the way for them; and when they have wealth, when they have authority, when they have power, let it not be said that they were deficient in public virtue and public spirit. When the torch is delivered to them, let them also light the path of human progress to educated man."
As time went on, I had many interviews and conversations with Mr. and Mrs. Disraeli. I learned to appreciate, more and more, that the oddities attributed to the latter were mainly of society manufacture; while her fine qualities had been kept in the background by the over- shadowing ability, and prominence, of her husband. She was a devoted wife, and the soul of kindness to every one she liked or respected. Peace and honor to her memory.
In the sad years which followed my misfortune of 1846, previously alluded to, it was enough for me, wearily, to get through the work of the day, and then to return to a home where there has always been sympathy, kindness, and cheerfulness in the darkest and most anxious hours of laborious and self-denying lives. In those years I rarely saw any of my old friends of prominence and station. My wife and I lived the lives of recluses until clouds ceased to lower. Health became restored, a moderate and augmenting fortune, laid in the foundations of carefulness, came to us; and we at last emerged into daylight, again.
When in Parliament, in 1857, I made a speech in the House of Commons, which some thought timely, upon the then pressing question of Indian railways. Mr. Disraeli did me the honor to listen to what I had to say. After his lamented death, one of his executors handed back to me, in an envelope, endorsed in his own hand, the letters which I had written to him in the years of the Manchester Athenaeum.
I may add, that Mr. Disraeli's ear was always open to me during the struggles for the Intercolonial Railway as a means, and the Confederation of the British Provinces in America as the great end, of our efforts. He was strongly in favour of Confederation; and, just as we owe the establishment of a Crown Colony in British Columbia to the sagacity of Bulwer Lytton, so we owe the final realization of Confederation, through the passing of an Act by the Queen, Lords, and Commons of Great Britain and Ireland, to the Government, no less sagacious on this question, of Lord Beaconsfield.
I think the following letters reflect no discredit upon my motives,— neither self-seeking nor selfish. At the same time they are further evidence of Mr. Disraeli's thorough kindness and feeling of justice towards all who had, in his judgment, "deserved well of their country."
"LONDON, "3rd August, 1867.
"On my return from Scotland yesterday I learnt, confidentially, that you had been good enough to propose to present my name to the Queen for the honour of knighthood, in consideration of my services in connection with the union of the British North American Provinces under the Crown, and with their Intercolonial Railway. And I see that a semi-official statement to that effect is in some of the papers. Will you permit me to thank you very sincerely for such a recognition of the services of a political opponent whose known opinions will protect him from the suspicion of receiving, and you from that of giving, an unworthy reward.
"But the mail brings me tidings from Canada which convince me that the French Canadian population at large look upon the course pursued towards Messrs. Cartier and Langevin in the recent distribution of honors as an act of indifference towards themselves. It might be possible, therefore—but you will be the best judge—that the honor now proposed for me might lead to an aggravation of this feeling of dissatisfaction, which arises at the very inopportune moment of the birth of the 'new Dominion.'
"I think, therefore, that I should be as deficient in public duty as in generosity, if I did not evince my gratitude for your unsolicited remembrance by saying that, should the difficulty I allude to be found really to exist, I shall not feel myself slighted or aggrieved should your kindness proceed no further, pending such an unfortunate state of feeling.
"I ought to add, that my late most kind and indulgent friend, the Duke of Newcastle, suggested some little time before his death an even higher reward for the services, which he alone knew the real extent of; but at my request it was postponed until—all the manifold difficulties being one by one cleared away—the great question of policy which he had so much at heart should be finally realized in legislation.
"Having thus been led almost, to rely upon some adequate recognition of several years' gratuitous and arduous exertion on both sides of the Atlantic, I feel the sacrifice I propose to make. But a desire to avoid aggravating this unfortunate misunderstanding induces me to trouble you now.
"I have the honour to be, dear Sir,"Yours very faithfully and obliged,"E. W. WATKIN.
"DOWNING STREET, S.W. "August 8, 1867.
"I have had the honor of receiving your letter of the 3rd instant, in which you refer to the rumoured intention of Her Majesty's Government to recommend your name to the Queen for the honor of knighthood, in consideration of services connected with the International Colonial Railway, and the influence of that undertaking on the union of the British North American Provinces; and in which you state your apprehension, that such an intention, in consequence of the recent intelligence from Canada with respect to the distribution of honors, might prove embarrassing to the Government.
"Under that impression you have, in a manner highly creditable to yourself, and most considerate to the Government, stated that you should not feel yourself slighted or aggrieved, if the views of Her Majesty's Government towards yourself were not proceeded with pending such an unfortunate feeling in Canada.
"It is quite true that it was the intention of Her Majesty's Government to recommend to Her Majesty to confer the honor of knighthood on you, in consideration of your services in question, thereby, as they believe, fulfilling the purpose of the late Duke of Newcastle, when his Grace was Secretary of State for the Colonies; but Her Majesty's Government, appreciating your motives in the suggestion which you have made, are of opinion that it may be expedient to suspend, for a time, conferring a distinction on you which, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, might occasion a painful, though an unfounded, feeling of jealousy.
"I have the honor to remain,"Dear Sir, yours faithfully,"B. DISRAELI."E. W. WATKIN, Esq., M.P."
Time went on, and, one morning in the summer of 1868, I received this letter:—
"10, DOWNING STREET, WHITEHALL, "August 11, 1868.
"The Queen has been graciously pleased to order, that letters patent should be prepared, to confer the honor of knighthood on Mr. Watkin, the Member for Stockport.
"As I know you take a great interest in the welfare of that gentleman, I have sent you this line, that you may be the first to know the distinction that awaits him.
"Sincerely yours,"B. DISRAELI."PHILIP ROSE, Esqre."
I may also add a curious bit of history of a personal character.
Mr. Disraeli was returned to Parliament, in 1837, for Maidstone, mainly, by the exertions and influence of his agent, Mr. Richard Hart, the eminent solicitor. Mr. Hart was my friend and agent on my return for the borough of Hythe, in 1874, and in 1880.
Mr. Hart had many interesting reminiscences of Mr. Disraeli to recount, and some day, in a more appropriate place, I hope to be able to recount them.
Visits to Quebec and Portland, and Letters Home, 1861.
Leaving Montreal by the night boat, I arrived at the wharf at Quebec; and, after a visit to the hotel and a walk round the city, called on Mr. Cartier, the Chief Minister of Canada, at the small house he then inhabited.
My first relation with Quebec was in acting as Honorary Secretary to a Committee in Manchester, which raised 7,500_l_. by subscription, and sent it out in money and goods to relieve the people, houseless and ruined by the great Quebec fires of May and July, 1845, when 3,015 houses were burnt down, and thousands of people were made homeless, and were starving. I also visited the city in 1851. Later on, in the year 1866, I was Chairman of the City of London Committee, which raised 23,800_l_. to alleviate the suffering caused by the great Quebec fire of that year.
In my walk round the city (in 1861) I was struck with the absence of precautions against fire, and the persistence in building wooden houses, when the cost of brick or stone could not be greatly more than of wood.
I may say, however, in my right as an old helper in these fire disasters, that on inspecting the city last September (1886), I was much impressed by the new building regulations in rigid force, and especially by the admirable system adopted for the effective repression of fires. There are central and subordinary fire stations, all connected together by telegraph and telephone. A constant watch is kept, engines are always ready to start off, and a sufficient number of men available for duty night and day.
But to come back to Mr. Cartier. After I had waited in his salon for a few minutes, he entered: A man under middle height, hair turning a little grey, eyes grey blue, sparkling and kindly; face almost Grecian; figure spare but muscular; well proportioned; manner full of almost southern fire, and restlessness. We discussed our Grand Trunk affairs. I explained the objects of our draft Bill, which were few and simple— (A) To raise 500,000_l_. as an "equipment" mortgage, to provide the railway with, much needed, plant and material; (B) to set aside all revenue derived from postal and military services; and upon the security of this revenue to issue "Postal and Military" Bonds, wherewith to pay the debts due by the Company in Canada and England. These debts were pressing, and were large. (C) To alter the administration of the Company in such wise that while the executive work would be done in Canada, with Montreal as headquarters, the seat of government would be in London, the stock and bonds being mainly held in England. I think, at that time, there were not more than 20,000_l_. of the original issue of Ordinary Stock of the Grand Trunk held in Canada.
Mr. Cartier knew, of course, all the ins and outs of the Grand Trunk. His Government had in previous years placed the loan of 3,100,000_l_. from Canada, expended in construction, behind other securities, to enable an issue of second bonds with which to complete the Trunk lines. But, unfortunately, as a condition of this concession, profitless branches were undertaken, branches, no doubt, locally useful, perhaps politically needful, but profitless nevertheless.
Mr. Cartier's sole query was, "Have you arranged with the Government at home as to the Military Revenue?"—to which I replied, that there was no occasion: the Government made no objection, and regularly paid the moderate charges made for the conveyance of men and material over the Railway: and we could, of course, if the Canadian Parliament passed our draft Bill into an Act, appropriate these receipts in any way the Act directed. With the Canadian Government it was different. The Canadian Government had, so far, delayed any settlement of our accounts for the costly conveyance of mail matter, by special trains, over long distances, so timed as to suit the Province but not to suit the Grand Trunk passengers; and one of my objects in coming out was to endeavour to induce Mr. Cartier and his colleagues to close up this pending matter for the past and to accord a just and adequate amount for the service of the future, such amount to be effective over a period of years. We then went into general conversation. I told Mr. Cartier I had been in Canada in 1851: and had at that time seen Papinean, Mackenzie, and others, whose resistance had led to peace and union, and greater liberty for all. This remark fired his eye; and he said, "Ah! it is eight years that I am Prime Minister of Canada; when I was a rebel the country was different, very different."
Mr. Cartier often preceded his observations, I believe, by the words "When I was a rebel;" and old George Crawford, of the Upper Province, a magnificent specimen of a Scotch Upper Canadian, once said, "Cartier, my frind, ye'll be awa to England and see the Queen, and when ye come bock aw that aboot ye're being a robbell, as no doobt ye were, will never be hard again. Ye'll begin, mon, 'When I was at Windsor Castle talking to the Queen.'" Years before, on Cartier being presented to the Queen by Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, he told Her Majesty that a Lower Canadian was "an Englishman who speaks French."
But Mr. Cartier had been a rebel; and a gallant and brave one. One of the incidents was, that when Sir John Colborne's troops invested the Chateau of St. Eustache, Cartier, a young man of nineteen, was lowered from a window at night, crawled along to the Cache, then under range of fire, and brought back a bag of cartridges strapped round his waist, to replenish the exhausted ammunition of the defenders of the Chateau. And I believe that he was hauled up again amidst a rain of bullets, having been discovered,—which bullets, fortunately for Canada, missed the "rebel."
I may here mention that in the autumn of 1865 I had a long interview with President Andrew Johnson, at the White House at Washington, having been introduced by Mr. Rice, of St. Paul's, Minnesota, a man to whom the United States and Canada are each deeply indebted, for the completion of railways from St. Paul's to the Hudson's Bay post of Fort Garry, now the thriving town of Winnipeg. The President told me he had that morning received a letter from the wife of the ex-President of the just defeated Southern Confederacy, which he said was "the reverse of complimentary." He read a sentence or two; and smiled quietly at a reference to his, as assumed by the lady, early occupation of journeyman tailor. President Davis was at the moment in prison in the case-mates of Fort Hatteras. "It is, of course, difficult to know what to do with him." Well, I said, "Mr. President, I remember when you were a Senator you said to those who talked secession, that if they carried out their threats, and you had your way, you would 'hang them as high as Haman.'"
The President paused, and then lifted his head and replied, "So I did, Sir. But we must look at things all round; consider faults on both sides, and that we have to be fellow-citizens in future." I added, "Mr. President, I have just left Canada, and taken leave of Mr. Cartier, the Prime Minister of that country. The Queen has not a more loyal subject. Yet, in 1839, he was a rebel in arms against the Crown.Hewas a secessionist. For a while he was a refugee in the woods at Rouse's Point, on Lake Champlain. A reward of 500_l_. was offered for his apprehension. But our country removed grievances, recognized the equality of French and English Canadians, united the Provinces, and forgave the rebels. All that sad contest is now forgotten."
The President seemed much struck, and, after a pause, he said, "Sir, will you say that again?" I repeated the words, and he scribbled, as I spoke, some notes on the blotter of the portfolio before him. He then said, "A countryman of mine has been over to your side of the Atlantic to teach you to tame horses. This gentleman, Mr. Rarey, uses what he calls 'mild force.' Mild force will probably be useful with us." The Fenian demonstrations in the United States against England were named as a breach of comity. The President said, sharply, "Why don't your people remonstrate? We hear no complaint."
To return to my narrative, Mr. Cartier arranged an interview for me with the Governor-General, Sir Edmund Head, and I presented my letters from Mr. Baring, and was assured of all the help he could give me. "Your demands are very clear, and appear to me equally just. First you ask the Government of Canada to aid you in passing a Bill through Parliament, which clearly is for the benefit of Canada, because it proposes to increase the efficiency of the railway service by a further outlay of capital, and also to pay off debt, a considerable part of which is incurred in Canada; and secondly, you ask for an immediate and just settlement of the charge for the conveyance by you of the mails."
The Governor-General then sent for Mr. John A.
Macdonald, who came immediately, and the conversation which had taken place was repeated.
This was the first time I had seen either Cartier, Sir Edmund Head, orMacdonald.
Sir Edmund Head was a tall stately man, with thoughtful brow, and complexion a little purpled by cardiac derangement. As the don of a college he would have been great, and in his sphere: as the Governor of a Province with a self-asserting people, I doubt if he had found the true groove.
His despatches were scholastic essays. His simplest replies were grave and learned, sometimes too complex for ordinary comprehension. When he, subsequently, became Governor of the Hudson's Bay Company, he tried to manage a profit-and-loss undertaking as if he were governing a province: just as when he governed a province he administered all things as if he were dealing with Russia in Europe. He was, however, a man of the kindest heart, and the strictest honor. But, after all, he was one of the round men put into the square holes of Provincial Government by the "authorities" at home. Still, on the whole, a noble character, and in very truth a gentleman. His chronic ailment led to some irritability of temper; and when, during the visit of the Prince of Wales, one of the Governor's aides-de-camp was pushed over from the steamer at Detroit by the press of the crowd, and fell into the water, Colonel Irving said:—"Ah! there was no danger whatever to ——'s life. The Governor-General has blown him up so much that he could never sink." I was present at a farewell dinner to Sir Edmund Head at Mr. Cartier's, at Quebec, in the winter of 1861-2. In response to the toast of his health, he alluded to his infirmity of temper, admitted his suffering—before concealed from outside people—and expressed his apologies in a manner so feeling and so gentle that the tears came into everybody's eyes. I heard more than one sob from men whose rough exterior disguised the real tenderness of their hearts.
Mr. John A. Macdonald entered the Governor-General's presence with a manly deference. I was at once struck by an odd resemblance in some of his features and expressions to Disraeli—dark curly hair, piercing eyes, aquiline nose, mouth sometimes firm, almost stern in expression, sometimes so mild that he seemed especially fitted to play with little children. I soon learned that, in tact, fixed purpose, and resources, he was ahead of them all. And, after watching his career for a quarter of a century, I have seen no reason to alter that opinion. He is the statesman of Canada—one of the ablest men on the Continent. I wish he administered the Colonial relations of the whole Empire. Had he done so for the last ten years we should have escaped our mistakes in South Africa, and the everlasting disgrace of Majuba Hill. Why is it that such men are excluded from office at home? Sir John A. Macdonald (then Mr. Macdonald) was once taken by me under the gallery, by special order of Mr. Speaker, to hear a "great" speech of Mr. Gladstone, whom he had not before heard. When we went away, I said: "Well, what do you think of him?" He replied: "He is a great rhetorician, but—he is not an orator." Would that men would not be carried away in a torrent of happy words. One hour of the late Patrick Smyth was, to my mind, worth a week of all the great rhetoricians.
A day or two after these interviews, the Hon. John Ross took me down to Portland, to have an interview with the Hon. A. T. Galt, the Finance Minister of Canada. I at once recognized in Mr. Galt a reduced likeness of his father. Mr. Galt was about five feet eleven: his father, who I had seen when a boy, about six feet four, and "buirdly" and stout in proportion. The father wore spectacles—the son did not. The father was the author of the "Annals of the Parish," "Laurie Todd," and many works greatly read when I was young. He was, also, the founder of the town of "Guelph," and of other towns in Upper Canada. If anyone wants to see an admirable likeness of him, he had better consult "Fraser's Magazine," of one of the issues of 1830 to 1833, and he will there find a rough engraving of the hoisting of the Union Jack at Guelph. Mr. Galt,pere, was so very large a man that Mr. Archibald Prentice, of the "Manchester Times," used to tell a story about his pointing Mr. Galt out to a little humpbacked Scotchman in the High Street of Edinburgh: "Eh! Jamie, mon, there's the great Galt, author of the 'Annals of the Parish.'" "'Annals o' the Payrish,' Archie, hech, sirs, he's big eneuch to be the Payrish itself—let alone the annals o' it."
Mr. Galt, the Finance Minister, has done great services to Canada, and is doing them still, in developing the mineral resources of the West, and in other ways. Our conversation on Grand Trunk affairs was long and anxious. I could see that Mr. Galt would do everything in his power; but the public prejudice was strongly against the Grand Trunk. The Grand Trunk Arrangements Bill was passed, as herein stated, in May, 1862; but, alas, the question of postal payments by Canada stood over till the end of 1864.
In reference to my visit, of 1861, so far as my personal journeyings were concerned, I will merely transcribe a few letters sent home.
"STEAMSHIP 'PERSIA'"(in the Gulf of St. Lawrence),"Sunday noon.
"I have not had a pen in hand for a week—not since I wrote just as we were coming to Cork.
"Just now the weather is as like that of last Sunday as one pea is to another—rain and mist—mist and rain! Yet we have, on the whole, had wonderful weather—little sea—little wind—little of anything very unpleasant—nothing unbearable.
"Our church-service is just over: the Captain reads prayers and a sermon, and does it very well: the sailors are dressed in their best, and behave with great decorum, but show some sleepiness: the day is wet, and that, and the general devoutness, draws a large congregation, —indeed, the cabin is full.
"And now for a long letter:—
"When I left off, before, we were coming to Cork. It was blowing and raining, and the atmosphere was thick with mist. We went on till six. Captain looked anxious—the Cork pilot bothered, the passengers ill- tempered, and everything had a dismal dampness about it. At last we stopped, and the big boilers sent out their steam through the waste pipe with a loud roar. Around us was nothing butmist—the, to me, nastiest form of fog. We could not see more than three times the length of the ship. We tried the lead twice, and the second time got soundings. We then fired a gun—then another—then a third. Then we moved on—then stopped—then moved on. The Captain sent for his chart, and put on his eye-glasses. The pilot stared out into the fog, and pointed first in one direction, then in another. All no use. We knew weoughtto be outside the Queenstown harbour—but we could see nothing. At last we heard a gun, and then in quick succession appeared a row boat and a steam tug with the passengers and mails; and, the mist breaking a little, we saw the land right a-head of us, about half-a- mile off. It was disagreeable, but it got over; and now came the transfer of bags, luggage, and passengers—only two or three of the latter. The tug came alongside and made fast, but there was a good deal of swell, and as she bobbed up and down it became highly amusing to see the crew and passengers scramble up the ladder, which sometimes was perpendicular, and at other times almost flat, as it followed the altering level of the tug. The ladder got broken—two or three ropes snapped—a deal of profane swearing took place—but it got over, too.
"The tug brought the news—the Confederates had defeated the Federal forces at Manasses Junction—three thousand killed and wounded— prisoners taken—artillery captured, &c., &c. I went up to one of the Misses Preston and hoped the news was happy—for she seemed delighted at what she had heard, and which then I had not. She said she 'did not quite know—it was for the South.' I replied that such news hardly could be happy for both sides, and, unless the news werepeace, was unhappy for all the world. She did not quite agree—and then told me the tidings. But what a strange effect in such a little ship- confined community!
"The Southern people collected together in delight—the Northern in anger and disgust. The former predicted an early possession of Washington for the Palmetto flag; the latter talked of raising half-a- million of men, and 'crushing out' the South, right amain; while, as in any disaster, there is always someone to be blamed, many of the Northern men laid all the responsibility upon the 'lawyer-generals' and 'store-keeping-colonels,' who had assumed commands for which they were never fit. It is a sad, unhappy quarrel!
"But I must describe our circle to you. First, I should tell you that Ihave the honor to sit at the Captain's table, and on his left hand—aMiss Ewart sitting on his right. Our set consists of the Captain,Judkins—the right and left-hand passengers as aforesaid—Col. Preston,Mrs. Preston and the three Misses Preston.
Mr. Stone, Col. Stewart, Miss Warde, Mr. Still, and Mr. Hutton, of Sheffield, and his daughter. We have 134 passengers,only, on board—a slack muster, caused by the evil times in America—and all were at dinner on Saturday, the day we sailed, but the wind, rain, mist, and misery of the next three days sent many of them below, and for those days we had plenty of elbow-room. The weather, however, improved, the sun got now and then out, though it has, so far, been anything but warm, and out came the sick people again in renovated appetite—some epicurean and dainty, many others with a ravenous, all- devouring maw, reminding one of the 'worm that never dieth.'
"Now, Col. Preston is the late U.S. Ambassador to Madrid, where he has resided officially, and with his family, for the four years of the Buchanan Presidency. He is now replaced, I think, by a Mr. Falkner. He is a tall, stout, gentlemanly man, but, while a perfect gentleman in his conversation, and having less of the American accent than most Americans, his manner is somewhat ungainly—perhaps owing to his make, which is large and a little inclining to the unwieldy.
"Mrs. Preston has an Americo-Grecian face, and is a 'grand-dame.' She talks of the blessings of slavery, and of the vain and self-recoiling efforts of her mother, who liberated many slaves and educated more, to reduce the evil; and is full of the troubles and robberies of foreign house-keeping and of the gossip of the diplomatic circle.
"Her daughters are high-spirited, good-humoured, large-sized girls— fresh, natural and charming. One of them has a fine face with eyes of blue, just like those Bradley liked to paint—and the other two are good looking enough. They have, however, no conversation—lots of talk and gossip; much of it, too, amusing and quick witted, but it wants thought. They all come from Kentucky, where they are now going. Colonel Stewart is, I think, from Louisiana. He talks little, and does not interest me. Mr. Stone is a voluble high-spirited Northern man, with Southern tendencies. He says that the men who started this secession, and have made it what it is, ought (on both sides) to be hung, and he 'would go home on purpose.' It seems that a house in which he had a large sum has failed, and, to use a phrase I have heard both Mr. Preston and himself make use of, the civil war has 'shocked' his property above one half,i.e.has reduced its value above one half. They all agree, in fact, that the value of all property has gone down at least half, a loss, if the nation had to sell up—which it has not, but has only to 'liquidate'—of a sum greater than required to buy up all the slaves and set them free. Credit is gone—the faith of the people in their Government is weakened, and thousands are ruined in every city in the land. Sad civil war! Our passengers comprise all sorts of people—from all sorts of places, clothed in all sorts of dresses: anything will do at sea. We have, too, a good many old stagers of the Atlantic, who think nothing of 'going across.' This will console you—as you have to go 'across' next spring—to know that one man has been across 57 times, another 31, another 18, and another 13; and one lady has been 6—while the fat buxom stewardess has done a hundred, and is alive and well, and quite as ready to receive a half crown from a passenger, of any country, as ever!
"But I must give over writing for a little, till this breeze of wind is over.
"We have now only 1,000 miles to go, and shall be in New York onWednesday.
"Monday.
"We had a bad night, and I could not sleep for the row and the motion. We have now got it over, and are going merrily along with a smart breeze, bright sun, and sparkling sea. It will be late on Wednesday, however, when we get in.
"A rough night at sea has its features. On board these ships there are strict rules and strict discipline. We breakfast, lunch, dine, and tea at hours which are kept to a moment. The bell rings, and down we sit. Then the bar closes at 11, and all lights are put out at 12. The lights in the cabins are placed inside a partition, glazed with ground glass, so that there is no glare, and you cannot get at them. No loose lights are allowed, and a passenger who struck a light would be severely handled. These are proper precautions against fire, and should be obeyed. But at 12 we are in total darkness—the ship rolls and pitches —every now and then a sea strikes her, and burr—hush—swish—goes the water over her sides or bows, and along her decks.
Then the men above run about, ropes are pulled, sails set or taken in, and a general hullabaloo goes on—no doubt in the interest of the passengers—but very disagreeable. Then the boatswain's whistle—Pee- ee-ee ah! Pee-ee-ee ah-h-h!—every now and then wakes you up. Light is a comfort, and darkness at sea seems to aggravate the strange feeling which now and then affects you, as you think you are following a great road without track or guide—save that which the stars, if visible, and the previous day's observations afford.
"On Saturday morning (10 August) I was called up to see the Great Eastern: and certainly an immense steamer was making its way eastward, about 15 miles due north of us. You will see by the date of her arrival if she was the object we saw or not. Saturday was very cold. We had heard at Queenstown, from a note from Capt. Stone to Judkins, that icebergs had been seen on the homeward passage, and at 3 o'clock we saw ahead of us something which looked like the wreck of a steamer—but which was pronounced to be ice. It was about 10 miles off. As we approached it we found it was a little mountain of ice, covering perhaps a couple of acres in area, and about 50 or 60 feet high. It assumed all sorts of shapes as we caught sight of it at different points—it looked, once, like a great lion crouching on the water—then it took an appearance like part of the causeway at Staffa. As soon as we got abreast of it we saw pack ice around it, and the light, then shining upon the whole mass, gave a fairy-like whiteness—transparent, snowy whiteness—which was very beautiful to see. While we were observing it, a great mass broke away, toppled over into the sea, sending up an immense snowy spray, and disappeared. The remainder stayed in sight, with the evening sun-light upon it, for a couple of hours.
"Yesterday, Sunday, morning, we sighted Cape Race, the eastern extremity of Newfoundland, and ran close in shore along a most desolate, dismal, coast, for a couple of hours. Abreast of the lighthouse and telegraph station a boat came off, and we pitched over a packet, with a little red flag attached, containing the latest news, to be telegraphed from thence to New York and other places, so that our passing would be known that afternoon everywhere—and if the steamer had not left Halifax it might bring the news thence to England; thus you may know of our safe arrival, so far, by about the 18th or 19th. I hope you may, as it will relieve your mind from various fears about me. It is very seldom indeed that the steamers actually sight Cape Race, as we did. However, we saw that desolate coast and the poor hermits of the place. Rounding the Cape, we enter the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which broke in rain and storm upon us. We saw several fishing sloops 'lying to,' to wait for better weather. These little craft are often run over by larger vessels, as they swarm in what is the great east and west track for steamers and other large ships; and when the wind is south, or south west, there is always fog and mist in the Gulf, and on the banks of Newfoundland outside.
"I find it a great comfort having a cabin to myself. I am now writing in my 'drawing-room'—i.e.,my upper berth, with my legs hanging down over my bed-room, or lower berth. All my property is stowed away and hung up, and the steward keeps all nice and clean—calls me in the morning, and at half-past seven brings me a foot-pan of fresh sea-water to bathe in. Therumis not very much diminished, as I have been very self-denying, being desirous of coming home in full vigour and hard health, if possible. It is very good, however, and when I finish this letter I shall reward good resolution by taking a little drop to drink your health—and God bless you!
"Taylor was excessively sick and ill, but is now all alive, and says he 'feels so light' he could run a race.
"I am pretty well. I have not been sick at all: I wish I had—but I ought to be thankful for a great deal of comfort in this long journey.
"I shall open this if anything worth recording takes place before we reach New York. If not, the receipt of this will tell you that we are 'safely landed.' I shall, however, write again from New York before I leave it for Boston—but I shall only remain a portion of a day and a night at New York."
"ST. LAWRENCE HALL, MONTREAL. "Sunday, August 18.