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.  When it is remembered that the average arrival of the first vessel after the breaking up of the ice is between the last week of April and the first week in May, this need not he much wondered at.

The Governor-General’s residence, is removed from the town, and a beautiful little country villa, called Spencer Wood, has been assigned him in lieu.  It is situated on the banks of the river, about half a mile inland; the only objection to it is, that the size thereof is not sufficient for vice-regal entertainments; but a very slight addition would remedy that defect.  In all other respects it is a charming place, as I can gratefully testify.  The drives and sights around the city are too well known to need much notice from me.

Montmorenci, with its frozen cone in winter, is one of the chief resorts for pic-nickers in their sleighs.  The trackless path over the frozen snow during the season is as full of life as Windsor park was in the old Ascot days.  Bright eyes beaming from rosy cheeks, and half buried in furs, anxiously watch for the excitement of a capsize, and laugh merrily as the mixed tenants of some sleigh are seen rolling over one another in most ludicrous confusion; the sun shines brightly, the bells ring cheerily, all is jollity and fun, and a misanthrope would be as much out of his element in one of these pic-nics as a bear in a ballet.

The falls of Lorette afford another pleasant excursion, not forgetting old Paul and his wife—­a venerable Indian chief and his squaw—­whom I visited, and the cleanliness of whose cottage I had great pleasure in complimenting him upon, as also upon his various medals, which extended from Chateau Gai down to the Exhibition of 1851.  He appeared as much struck with my venerable appearance as I was with his; for, upon being asked my age, he bestowed a searching glance from head to foot, and then gravely replied, “Seventy-five.”  I rebelled against his decision, and appealed to his wife, who kindly took my part, and after a steady gaze, said, “Oh, Paul! that gentleman is not more than seventy-two.”  It was in vain I tried to satisfy them, that thirty summers would have to pass over my head before I reached that honourable time of life.  However, it is not only Indians who miscalculate age, for a young lady, fresh from Ireland, having the same question put to her, said “Sixty;” and upon being told she was seventeen years out in her calculation, she replied, with painful coolness, “Which way?” I never felt a confirmed old bachelor till I heard that awful “Which way?”