Mr. Cartier's sole query was, "Have you arranged with the Government at home as to the Military Revenue?"--to which I replied, that there was no occasion: the Government made no objection, and regularly paid the moderate charges made for the conveyance of men and material over the Railway: and we could, of course, if the Canadian Parliament passed our draft Bill into an Act, appropriate these receipts in any way the Act directed. With the Canadian Government it was different. The Canadian Government had, so far, delayed any settlement of our accounts for the costly conveyance of mail matter, by special trains, over long distances, so timed as to suit the Province but not to suit the Grand Trunk passengers; and one of my objects in coming out was to endeavour to induce Mr. Cartier and his colleagues to close up this pending matter for the past and to accord a just and adequate amount for the service of the future, such amount to be effective over a period of years. We then went into general conversation. I told Mr. Cartier I had been in Canada in 1851: and had at that time seen Papinean, Mackenzie, and others, whose resistance had led to peace and union, and greater liberty for all. This remark fired his eye; and he said, "Ah! it is eight years that I am Prime Minister of Canada; when I was a rebel the country was different, very different." Mr. Cartier often preceded his observations, I believe, by the words "When I was a rebel;" and old George Crawford, of the Upper Province, a magnificent specimen of a Scotch Upper Canadian, once said, "Cartier, my frind, ye'll be awa to England and see the Queen, and when ye come bock aw that aboot ye're being a robbell, as no doobt ye were, will never be hard again. Ye'll begin, mon, 'When I was at Windsor Castle talking to the Queen.'" Years before, on Cartier being presented to the Queen by Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, he told Her Majesty that a Lower Canadian was "an Englishman who speaks French." But Mr. Cartier had been a rebel; and a gallant and brave one. One of the incidents was, that when Sir John Colborne's troops invested the Chateau of St. Eustache, Cartier, a young man of nineteen, was lowered from a window at night, crawled along to the Cache, then under range of fire, and brought back a bag of cartridges strapped round his waist, to replenish the exhausted ammunition of the defenders of the Chateau. And I believe that he was hauled up again amidst a rain of bullets, having been discovered,--which bullets, fortunately for Canada, missed the "rebel."