My baggage having arrived, I left Prescot by boat in the evening for Kingston, at that time the second town both in size and importance in Canada West.  It must, on account of its situation as a military and naval post, always be a place of consequence.  I fell in there with an old sea-dog, who had commanded a vessel, for many years trading between London and Quebec.  He had had the misfortune to lose his vessel, which was wrecked on the rocks at Gaspe, near the mouth of the St. Lawrence.  I was glad to find the friends I was going to reside with had come out passengers in his ship, and that the schooner he then commanded was bound for the Big-bay (now called Windsor), in the township of Whitby, within six or seven miles of my friends’ residence, and that they would sail in two days at farthest.

On our passage from Prescot to Kingston we passed Brockville, which looked very pretty from the river, and soon afterwards we were threading our way through the intricacies of the Thousand Islands.* Who has not heard of the far-famed Thousand Islands—­the Archipelago of the St. Lawrence?  Nothing can exceed the beauty of this spot.  The river is here several miles in width, studded with innumerable islands, of every variety of form.  The moon shone brightly on this lovely scene:  not a ripple stirred the mirror-like bosom of the stream—­“There was not a breath the blue wave to curl.”

[* “The Lake of the Thousand Isles.  The expression was thought to be a vague exaggeration, till the Isles were officially surveyed, and found to amount to 1692.  A sail through them presents one of the most singular and romantic succession of scenes that can be imagined—­the Isles are of every size, form, height and aspect; woody, verdant, rocky; naked, smiling, barren; and they present as numerous a succession of bays, inlets, and channels as occur in all the rest of the continent put together.”  “Encyclopaedia of Geography,” iv. 1321.]

The reflection of the trees in the water enhanced the natural beauties I have endeavoured to describe.

The next morning, June the 3rd, I embarked on board the schooner “Shamrock,” on my way to Darlington.  We passed the Duck islands towards evening, and found ourselves fairly launched on the bosom of the Great Ontario.  We anchored next day opposite the town of Cobourg, then a small village, without a harbour, now a fine, handsome, well-built town, containing a population of nearly 4,000 inhabitants.  A large sum of money has been laid out in the construction of a harbour, which appears to answer very well.

Cobourg is the county-town for the counties of Northumberland and Durham, which comprehend the following townships:  Darlington, Clarke, Hope, Hamilton, Haldimand, Cramache, Murray, Seymour, Percy, Alnwick, South Monaghan, Cavan, Manvers, and Cartwright.  The soil of most of these townships is of excellent quality, particularly the fronts of Hamilton, Haldimand, and all Cavan, being generally composed of a deep rich loam.