of many of the thoughtless revellers.

The contrast was only too apparent and too painful a subject to those
that looked upon this show of outward gaiety and inward misery.

The cholera had made awful ravages, and its devastating effects were to
be seen in the darkened dwellings and the mourning habiliments of all
classes. An expression of dejection and anxiety appeared in the faces of
the few persons we encountered in our walk to the hotel, which plainly
indicated the state of their minds.

In some situations whole streets had been nearly depopulated; those that
were able fled panic-stricken to the country villages, while others
remained to die in the bosom of their families.

To no class, I am told, has the disease proved so fatal as to the poorer
sort of emigrants. Many of these, debilitated by the privations and
fatigue of a long voyage, on reaching Quebec or Montreal indulged in
every sort of excess, especially the dangerous one of intoxication; and,
as if purposely paving the way to certain destruction, they fell
immediate victims to the complaint.

In one house eleven persons died, in another seventeen; a little child
of seven years old was the only creature left to tell the woful tale.
This poor desolate orphan was taken by the nuns to their benevolent
institution, where every attention was paid that humanity could suggest.

The number both of Catholic and Protestant benevolent societies is very
great, and these are maintained with a liberality of principle that does
honour to both parties, who seem indeed actuated by a fervent spirit of