Snow usually falls in the beginning of December, and continues till the end of April; but there are frequent thaws in the meantime. Through the winter there is a constant succession of storms, the lakes and many of the bays and rivers are frozen over, and all internal communication is by sleighs.

The colony is under the authority of a governor, who is assisted by a Legislative and Executive council of nine members. There is also a House of Representatives, elected by almost universal suffrage, consisting of fifteen delegates, not always selected for very high qualities. Indeed, some people are illiberal enough to imagine that the affairs of the country would not materially suffer if honorable members for such important constituencies as those of Kiddy Viddy Cove or Starvation Creek, were to direct their attention to cod-fishing instead of legislation.

The most thriving settlements besides the capital, are Carbonear, Harbor Grace, and Petit Harbor, all towns on the sea

coast.

If St. John's be the fishiest, it is also one of the friendliest places in the world; no cold, formal, letter of introduction dinners, but hearty, cordial, and agreeable hospitality. The society is, of course, very limited in extent, consisting of the clergy, the civil and military officers, and the principal merchants. Some of the latter have attained to considerable affluence, and are men whose kindness, intelligence, and practical views, render them agreeable and instructive associates. Among the younger members of their families, accomplishments and the graces of life receive due attention; not a few of them have had European education. The reunions of St. John's possess so much charm, that many among the officers of the army and navy who have participated in them, have carried away living vouchers for their attractions.

We could scarce leave Newfoundland without having seen a specimen of the codfishing. One of our acquaintances kindly offered to drive us to Portugal Cove for the purpose, a distance of ten miles. The captain, the ensign, and myself, with our friend driving, formed the party. The conveyance was a light spiderlike, double-seated carriage, drawn by a wiry, strong, brown horse; he had a splendid shoulder and area a ewe neck, a cun

ning-buck look, like a hare, and an uneasy tail; just the sort of animal which instantly suggests running reins and kicking straps. He started at a fair trotting pace; but our driver, by twisting the reins round each hand, and by setting his feet against the dash-board, showed that he expected work. All went on very smoothly, however, till we got within a couple of miles of our journey's end, when unfortunately the conversation turned upon American travellers.

"This horse is one," said our friend," he can do the mile in two minutes and fifty seconds."

"Indeed," said I. Now, "Indeed," must have been pronounced in some very expressive manner, and conveyed the extraordinary delusion that I wished to see it done, for our friend instantly made some sort of freemason sign, and away went the diabolical brute, up and down hill, in a sort of shambling shuffling pace, at a rate which nearly took the breath out of my body. As soon as I could speak, I begged to assure his owner that I had not the least doubt of his powers, and implored of him to pull up. By the time I was informed that it was quite impossible, the animal stopped of his own accord at the inn at Portugal Cove.

This establishment is a small wooden building, prettily situated on the banks of a turbulent little stream, which gets up a waterfall in view of the windows. It is a favorite spot for passing the first part of the honeymoon; and is, perhaps, judiciously chosen, for there is nothing whatever of luxury, convenience, or amusement, to disturb the thoughts of the happy couple from each other.

The

A straggling village of log houses lies along the shore, with a boat pier of the same material; a fleet of fishing boats lay moored to it. We embarked in one, a rough clumsy concern; and, with a wild unshaven fellow to guide us, put to sea. bay is about the size of that of Tenby; a large flat island, with steep sides, protects the opening, looking as if it had been snapped off the mainland and floated out to where it now stands; like all the rest of the sea-board, it is covered with scrubby, stunted forest. At the eastern end of the island is a very curious rock, standing about two hundred yards clear of it, and of about the same height, looking, in the distance, like one of the round

towers of Ireland. Our boatman, speaking in a Cork brogue, slightly overlaid with a Yankee twang, said that, "No one, barring the birds, had ever got to the top of it." The Captain gravely observed, that "unless the inducements to get there were very much increased, probably none ever would."

We soon arrived at our fishery, and cast our lines of strong cord with a heavy leaden sink, and three or four hooks baited with slices of fish. In a minute or two there was a chorus of "I've got him ;" and, as we pulled, the prizes plunged, dived, and twisted, filling the dark-green water with pale distorted ghosts of sea-monsters, which, as they neared the surface, and became exhausted, condensed into the sober realities of resigned and unresisting codfish. Our myrmidon immediately put an end to their sufferings, by striking them on the head with a short bludgeon he called "the priest." He then cut off a piece of the tail of one of them, to furnish fresh bait. By thus encouraging their cannibal propensities, we soon caught so many that we were heartily tired of the sport. To give us an idea of the innumerable multitudes of fish, the boatman cast a line, with a heavy weight at the end, and half a dozen hooks attached, full length into the water, till it had nearly reached the bottom, and then jerked it along, pulling it towards him; it seldom came up without a victim writhing on one of the barbs. Fully contented with this specimen of the truly national sport of Newfoundland, I reluctantly trusted myself to the mercy of the high trotting horse again, and he soon whirled us home.

The road was not without beauty, but of a sad and desolate character, which the few miserable patches of cultivation and the wretched log huts by the road-side, did not tend to enliven. Windsor lake, or, "Twenty mile pond," as the people prefer calling it, is a large, picturesque sheet of water, with some pretty, lonely-looking islands; but its shores are shapeless hills, and its forests stunted brushwood.

From the top of the last eminence before descending to St. John's, the view is very striking. The finely-situated town spread along the shore, the massive government house in the foreground, relieved by cheerful ornamental villas round it, the roadstead filled with shipping and small boats, the old, barren

coast beyond, softening down, to the right, into green fields and gardens; while opposite, on the left, grim-looking Signal hill, with the union-jack floating over the fog on the top, protects the entrance of the harbor. And far away, filling up the background of the picture, with its hard, dark line against the summer's sky, lies calm, deep, and treacherous-the great Atlantic.

In the spring of the year 1497, a small squadron of ships sailed from Bristol, in search of a passage to India by the northwest. Two men of Venetian origin, John Cabot and his son Sebastian, a youth of twenty years of age, undertook their guidance. After a toilsome Voyage of many weeks, they entered a region of vast banks, fogs, and mists, but continued on with unshaken hardihood. About three o'clock on the morning of the 24th of June, they reached a land hitherto unnoted in any map or record; sterile and uncultivated, abounding in great white bears and elks. The discoverers called this country by a name signifying "rich in fish," from the numbers which swarmed in the rivers and along the sea-coast. The inhabitants were wild and unfriendly, clothed with the skins of beasts, and painted with a reddish clay.

The Cabots returned to England that year, and it does not appear that any further notice was taken of this country, which the English called Newfoundland, till 1534; when the brave Jacques Cartier, with only sixty men, sailed from St. Malo in two small vessels, under the French flag, and nearly circumnavigated the island. He found it to be a great triangle, of irregular shape, and about nine hundred miles round, with deep indentures and numerous harbors, but with a soil everywhere unfruitful.

Two Englishmen, named Elliott and Thorn, traded there for some years under the protection of Henry VIII., obtaining rich furs from the natives. At length these unhappy men, with a body of their dependents, made a settlement, and determined to remain there the winter. They knew not what they had to meet; their provisions failed, none of them survived, and tradition says they ate each other.

The most remarkable among the adventurers who visited these bleak shores, for many years afterwards, was Sir Humphry Gil

bert. He took possession in the name of Queen Elizabeth, but was lost on his return to England. His good brave words in the storm are left us still, 66 Courage, friends, we are as near Heaven here as on the land."

From the beginning of the seventeenth century the French had a settlement at Placentia, on the south coast. George Calvert landed from England in the year 1622, having with him seeds, grain, and cattle. His settlers were successful, and some of their descendants founded, in a commodious harbor, the capital, St. John's.

At the treaty of Utrecht, Louis XIV. of France gave up his claim to the island, which probably he did not care much about, as his subjects retained the right of fishing. It has ever since remained an English colony, and is at present garrisoned by a detachment of artillery and three companies of infantry. The barren soil and ungenial climate defy the skill and industry of the husbandman: wheat does not grow, the scanty crops of barley and oats rarely ripen; from sheltered places near the towns a moderate supply of potatoes and garden vegetables is forced from the unwilling earth. There are a few cattle, the grasses being plenty and nutritious. All else, for the use of man, comes from over sea. During the six months summer, some of the lakes and bays are rich in short-lived beauty. Few have penetrated into the interior, for any distance; the hills, as you advance, rise into mountains, the shrubs into trees. There is an idea that the centre of the island is a great valley, filled with numerous lakes and impassable morasses: none of the rivers are navigable far up the country, and there seems but little to tempt the explorer.

The natives met with in the first discovery were Esquimaux; fierce men of stalwart frame and intractable disposition; their complexion was a dark red; they were bold hunters and fishers, and of great courage in battle. From the first, they and the white men were deadly foes. The Mic-Mac Indians of Nova Scotia, and these red men, carried on a war of extermination against each other for centuries; each landing, with destructive swoop on the other's coasts, scalping the men, and carrying the women into slavery. The Escuimaux warriors were more fre