There is no doubt that the atrocities of which Montreal was the scene constitute the most discreditable features in modern Canadian history, and which, it is to be hoped, the instigators to and actors in are long since fully ashamed of; nor can the temper and judgment of the Governor-General on this trying occasion be too highly extolled.  When it was imperative to dissolve the Parliament, he foresaw that his not doing so in person would be misconstrued by his enemies, and that he would be branded by them with that most galling of all accusations to a noble heart—­cowardice.  With a high-minded sense of duty, he put all such personal considerations aside.  There were two courses open to him:  one, to call out the military, and in their safe keeping dissolve the Assembly; the other, to depute the Commander of the Forces to perform that duty.  The former must have produced a collision with the populace, and the blood of many whom he believed to be as loyal as he knew they were misguided and excited would have flowed freely; the latter, he foresaw, would be misconstrued into an act of personal cowardice, but he knew it would prevent a flow of blood, the remembrance of which would keep alive the bitterest elements of political animosity for years to come.  With true patriotism, he sacrificed himself at the shrine of the country he was sent to govern, preferring to be the subject of the most galling accusations rather than shed unnecessarily one drop of the blood of those committed to his rule.

During the whole of Lord Elgin’s able and prosperous administration, I can scarcely conceive any one act of his to which he can look back with more satisfaction, than this triumph of his judgment over his feelings, when he offered up just pride and dignity on the altar of mercy, and retired to Quebec.  A shallow-pated fellow, who had probably figured personally in the outrages of that period, in talking to me on the subject, thus described it,—­“he bolted off in a funk to Quebec;” and doubtless hundreds of others, as shallow-pated as himself, had been made to believe such was the case, and vituperation being the easiest of all ignoble occupations, they had probably done their best to circulate the paltry slander.  Lord Elgin, however, needs no goose-quill defender; the unprecedented increasing prosperity of the colony under his administration is the most valuable testimony he could desire.  It is not every governor who, on his arrival, finding a colony in confusion and rebellion, has the satisfaction, on his resignation of office, of leaving harmony and loyalty in their place, and the revenue during the same period increased from 400,000l. to 1,500,000l.:  and if any doubt ever rested upon his mind as to whether his services were approved of and appreciated at home, it must have been removed in the most gratifying manner, when, upon a public dinner being given him at the London Tavern, 1854, all shades of politicals gathered readily to do him honour; and while the chairman, Lord John