reached the Cornwall Canal, where we were much impeded by seven locks.
This splendid canal, the finest in the world, is one hundred feet wide,
and the locks fifty-two: it is twelve miles long, and about fourteen
feet deep. We now pass from Lower to Upper Canada, direct from east to
west; and about six miles forward we find the State of New York on the
left. About thirty miles farther we call at Ogdensburgh, on the American
side, and Prescott right opposite, where the windmill stands dilapidated
from the skirmish the patriots had here, when the English demolished the
lot. We called at Maitland for wood, and thence to Brockville, and
glided up the Thousand Islands: there really are a thousand islands
between here and Kingston. The foliage on the trees was grand--all
colours. It passed all description; and the trees actually grow out of
the rocks with which all the islands are covered. About ten miles from
Kingston, on one of the islands, lives the notorious Bill Johnston, the
patriot. We arrived at Kingston at four P.M., 216 miles in twenty-eight
hours.


_Sunday._--Sojourned at Lambton-house for the sake of its name, and
walked about this very poor town. It is a straggling place. The late
Government-house is neither elegant nor commodious, and is now a
Sunday-school: still it is the only house of any importance in the
neighbourhood. We walked down to a spring of mineral water, resembling
Harrogate, and one spring much stronger--kept by a hearty couple, Bone
and his wife, from Plymouth. They propose getting a large hotel built by
next year, to vie with Saratoga. I wish them success. They were very
kind. Mr. King came and spent the evening with me.


_Monday._--Found the tradesmen of the right sort: still their operations