Roman Catholic Church and Nunnery, on the bank just above the Horse Shoe Fall. The remains of the cellar and foundation can still be seen close to the reservoir of the Clifton House water works.

The prospect from the balcony or observatory was singularly beautiful. In fact the most picturesque and varied view to be seen about the Falls is, without doubt, that from the higher bank between the site of the Pavilion Hotel and the Nunnery. From this point one can overlook a great portion of the surrounding country. Right under your feet you look down into the cauldron of the Horse Shoe Fall, the mist rising up and partially hiding its depths. Farther on you look down upon Goat Island and the American Fall; and on the other shore over the white buildings and large hotels of Manchester, to the fields beyond. The centre of the picture is filled up with the great river coming into sight on the horizon miles away, near Tonawanda, with Grand Island and Navy Island dividing it into different broad channels, looking like arms of the sea. In the distance the river seems still and almost dead in its quiet calm; as it comes nearer, ruffled a little upon its surface, until it gets into the rapids, and then for about a mile it comes tearing down, pitching and leaping, now breaking into great waves of spray dashing against each other, now gliding in a rushing green mass, too heavy, too massive, for the unevenness of the channel to print itself upon its surface. So it moves in its onward progress until it takes the last plunge into the abyss beneath, and loses itself in spray and foam and mist.

From our standpoint Navy Island lay before us, about a mile and a half above the commencement of the rapids, and almost in the middle of the river. Towards Navy Island, then occupied by the sympathisers, we noticed a steamer leave the American shore, almost opposite to it, and move across the river towards the island. We had with us a powerful telescope, and immediately

brought it to bear upon the vessel, which was about two miles from us, and among other things we noticed wheels upon the deck showing above the bulwarks. At first it was thought they were cart or waggon wheels, but a closer inspection showed they were cannon wheels of field pieces, which were being conveyed from Fort Schlosser to the aid of the rebels whom we were besieging. It must be remembered that from the Canadian shore, opposite Navy Island, the trees upon it completely hid what was going on behind it and between it and the American shore.

The news that the steamer (which proved afterwards to be the Caroline), was carrying cannon and supplies to the rebels, was communicated to Sir Allan MacNab, with the further information that she was moored behind the island, and that it appeared likely that she would remain there.

Sir Allan MacNab, immediately upon hearing that the steamer was conveying munitions of war to the enemy and was moored in British waters, determined to organize an expedition to cut her out and send her over the Falls. His plans were laid at once with great skill, and every means taken to ensure success. Volunteers were called for, and only those accustomed to boats and the water were allowed to take part. Captain Drew of the Royal Navy, a retired officer, was appointed to command the expedition, assisted by Lieutenants Sheppard, McCormack, John Elmsley and others. The men were ignorant of the service they were to perform; for Captain Drew merely called for a few fellows that would be willing "to follow him to the devil.”

Five boats were prepared, well manned, well armed, and with muffled oars and every arrangement that could conduce to success. To properly understand the difficulty of the enterprize it must be understood that there is probably nowhere a more dangerous piece of water to navigate than that immediately above the Falls and about Navy Island.

The current runs from four to five miles an hour, so smoothly and quietly that when upon the river it is impossible to tell how you are drifting unless you take bearings upon shore, when if you desist from rowing for a minute it makes you shudder to feel how quietly and rapidly you are gliding down to the fearful cataract whose sounding waters are roaring in your ears, and whose column of white spray towers up before you. The river below Navy Island is almost three miles across from shore to shore, and it is only about a mile and a half to the rapids, so one can readily imagine the difficulty of navigating a piece of water of that shape with so rapid a current. A broken oar, a strong wind down stream, a capsized boat or a little carelessness, and the poor boatman is lost beyond all hope. When all this is considered, and that this operation had to be performed at night, the danger will appear in all its force. The most skilful ferryman will refuse to cross at night unless it is singularly clear, so that the opposite shore can be

seen.

To give bearings to guide the boats at night a line was taken by daylight and the sites fixed for two large fires, one on the shore of the river and the other about half a mile inland. These were lighted after dark and gave the expedition a line below which it would be dangerous to drift and by which they could fix their positions while upon the

water.

The little expedition set out quietly on its undertaking about 11 p.m. After getting away from the shore Captain Drew gathered the boats around him and told his followers the service they were about to undertake and gave them the necessary directions. They then moved on again. The greatest silence was observed, and with muffled oars and careful stroke they glided across the river, went around the Island, and skirted its farther shore without finding the object of their search. In doing this three of the boats, namely, those commanded by Captain

Drew and McCormack and Elmsley became separated from the others. Coming together, a hurried consultation was held. It was thought the Caroline had gone back after dark to Fort Schlosser, and the brave sailors, not to be foiled, determined to follow and cut her out from that place. The execution of the plan followed closely upon the conception, and the three boats were soon under the side of the Caroline, which was moored to the wharf at Schlosser. On coming alongside they were challenged by a sentry. Captain Drew said he would give him the countersign when on deck and immediately boarded by the starboard gangway while McCormack led on another party by the starboard bow. Captain Drew, who was first on deck, was fired at and set upon by five men. He cut down one and disabled another, and, his men supporting him, they drove the others off the vessel on to the wharf. Lieutenant McCormack was not so fortunate. Upon boarding he was immediately fired upon and badly wounded, but not before he had cut down two of the rebels. The vessel was then at once carried.

As soon as the Canadians had obtained possession of the Caroline, their next object was to cut her adrift, and, after setting fire to her, let her float down the rapids and over the Falls. The moorings were with some difficulty loosened, Lieutenant Elmsley and a few men covering the operation, and she was set on fire in several places. The crews got into their boats and, counting over their numbers before starting, they missed Lieutenant McCormack. They hurriedly went again on board the steamer, which was drifting downwards, and burning, and found McCormack lying insensible with no less than five severe gun-shot wounds in addition to sabre cuts. They had barely time to get him out and into the boats when they had to leave, and, turning their bows up stream, they worked their way back to Chippawa.

McCormack was rupposed to be mortally

wounded, but with great care and attention he was brought round and eventually recovered. His gallantry was so marked as to be acknowledged by all, and he was granted by the Canadian Parliament a pension of £100 a year for his services on that occasion, and after his death Parliament, with rare liberality, continued it to his widow. The Caroline on fire, with the flames continually increasing, drifted down the main channel and into the Horse Shoe Rapids. On reaching the rapids she was shaken and broken almost immediately. A large portion of her stuck on a ledge of rock and remained there for years, the remainder broke up and was dashed over the Falls. The fire went out almost as soon as she got into the rapids.

Pictures were published and extensively circulated purporting to represent the Caroline going over the Falls, in which she was depicted in full blaze, just taking the final plunge. These views are entirely false, for she went over in pieces.

The next morning numbers of us went down under the bank below the Falls and picked up pieces of the vessel that had been

drifted up against the rocks. I picked up a piece of oak which I still keep in my possession as a relic of the ill-fated but historic

steamer.

This affair created an intense excitement in the States, and almost caused a war between them and us. There is no doubt, however, that the United States authorities were to blame in the matter, for they had no justification in allowing cannon to be taken from their own arsenals by filibusters to wage war against a country with which they were at peace.

The cutting out of the Caroline was a vigorous step. It dispirited the enemy as much as it encouraged our own men, while it had a wholesome effect upon the American sympathisers. Soon afterwards the patriots decamped and we were able to return to our homes. Canadians proved then, as always, that they had the power and did not lack the will to defend their hearths. That her sons may always be able, in the future as in the past, to protect the soil and maintain the honour of our native land is the fervent

wish of an old Canadian.

What may the summer bring?

Freshness and calm

To the care-worn and troubled, Beauty and balm.

O toil-weary spirit,

Rest thee anew,

For the heat of the world-race

Summer hath dew!

What will the summer bring?
Sultry noon hours,
Lurid horizons,

Frowning cloud-towers!
Loud-crashing thunders,
Tempest and hail;
Death-bearing lightnings,
It brings without fail.

What may the summer bring?
Dimness and woe,
Blackness of sorrow

Its bright days may know ;

Flowers may be wormwood,
Verdure a pall,

The shadow of death
On the fairest may fall.

Is it not ever so? Where shall we find Light that may cast

No shadow behind? Calm that no tempest

May darkly await? Joy that no sorrow

May swiftly abate?

Will the story of summer
Be written in light,

Or traced in the darkness

Of storm-cloud and night? We know not-we would not know; Why should we quail? Summer, we welcome thee ! Summer, all hail !

MR

R. Augustus Hare is already most favourably known as the author of "Walks in Rome." He has now brought out a book of somewhat similar character on Spain, and as it happens, at a moment when general attention is turned to that country by a fresh crisis in its stormy fortunes. His style is very pleasant, though not always correct; his descriptive powers are great, and he gives us a vivid picture of the land of ancient grandeur, of modern decrepitude and decay, with its scenery in the strange extremes of beauty and ugliness; its glowing atmosphere; its picturesque, though dilapidated cities; its mixture of Moorish with Christian art; its fine and gay, though idle and listless race; and the dark pall of