A member of the Ottawa government, who was on his way to the Governor-General’s ball at Halifax, informed us that this country is rich in minerals, in iron especially, and he pointed out spots where gold had been washed out.  But we do not covet it.  And we were not sorry to learn from this gentleman, that since the formation of the Dominion, there is less and less desire in the Provinces for annexation to the United States.  One of the chief pleasures in traveling in Nova Scotia now is in the constant reflection that you are in a foreign country; and annexation would take that away.

It is nearly dark when we reach the head of the Bedford Basin.  The noble harbor of Halifax narrows to a deep inlet for three miles along the rocky slope on which the city stands, and then suddenly expands into this beautiful sheet of water.  We ran along its bank for five miles, cheered occasionally by a twinkling light on the shore, and then came to a stop at the shabby terminus, three miles out of town.  This basin is almost large enough to float the navy of Great Britain, and it could lie here, with the narrows fortified, secure from the attacks of the American navy, hovering outside in the fog.  With these patriotic thoughts we enter the town.  It is not the fault of the railroad, but its present inability to climb a rocky hill, that it does not run into the city.  The suburbs are not impressive in the night, but they look better then than they do in the daytime; and the same might be said of the city itself.  Probably there is not anywhere a more rusty, forlorn town, and this in spite of its magnificent situation.

It is a gala-night when we rattle down the rough streets, and have pointed out to us the somber government buildings.  The Halifax Club House is a blaze of light, for the Governor-General is being received there, and workmen are still busy decorating the Provincial Building for the great ball.  The city is indeed pervaded by his lordship, and we regret that we cannot see it in its normal condition of quiet; the hotels are full, and it is impossible to escape the festive feeling that is abroad.  It ill accords with our desires, as tranquil travelers, to be plunged into such a vortex of slow dissipation.  These people take their pleasures more gravely than we do, and probably will last the longer for their moderation.  Having ascertained that we can get no more information about Baddeck here than in St. John, we go to bed early, for we are to depart from this fascinating place at six o’clock.

If any one objects that we are not competent to pass judgment on the city of Halifax by sleeping there one night, I beg leave to plead the usual custom of travelers,—­where would be our books of travel, if more was expected than a night in a place?—­and to state a few facts.  The first is, that I saw the whole of Halifax.  If I were inclined, I could describe it building by building.  Cannot one see it all from the citadel hill, and by walking down by