At about this period of her history Canada threatened to become that against which Washington had warned his countrymen, a slave to inveterate antipathies. The mass of the people were violently for or against each person, cause or abstract question, in turn; and naturally, the times being critical, weak men went to the wall and those who were by nature autocrats came to the front, and in their way did the best of work. Sir John Colborne, St. Eustache notwithstanding, was the right man in the right place; his severe acts were not committed either thoughtlessly or wantonly. Each was useful in his own way as circumstances and a narrow orbit permitted. After Sir John came Prince, MacNab and Drew. None of them hated in a small, toothy way; there was nothing of the schemer about any one of them. It was a word and a blow. And although at one time it seemed as if the most prominent of them, Prince and MacNab, had given force to the saying that the man who commits a crime gives strength to the enemy, the two events in which they figured--as criminals or heroes according to prejudice--and which nearly caused a great war, were the means of putting down the rebellion. The _Caroline_, and the prisoners who were “shot accordingly,” showed that the iron heel could stamp, that the iron hand was better without the glove. Following closely upon Gallows Hill came the occupation of Navy Island and the burning of the _Caroline_. “What,” asked Canada, “is meant by Neutrality?” and Jonathan, smoothing the rough edges of his meaning in poesie, replied: “Excite fresh men t’invade that monarch’s shore, And fill a loyal country with alarms, And give them men, with warlike stores and arms, Encourage brigands and all aid supply; I guess that’s _strict, downright Neutral-i-ty_!” At the foot of the terrible three hundred and thirty-four feet of water-leaps taken in the last thirty-six miles of the river-bed of the Niagara, lay Navy Island, only a mile and a half above the cauldron, and within three-quarters of a mile of the worst of the mysterious strugglings and throes of the rapids. This, with several other small islands, forms a strait and two channels, and lies within a half-mile row of the Canadian shore. The Canadian boatman, intrepid as he is, knows the meaning of that sound, which is ocean at its maddest--a rolling sea heralding a coming storm that is born in the countless million tons of clear, deep green water and milk-white bubble, bubble, toil and trouble, which leap into the appalling confusion below. Here, on December 13th, was run up the patriot flag, with its twin stars supposed to represent “the Canadas--two pretty provinces, like two pretty daughters kept in durance vile by an old and surly father; they will either soon elope, or be carried off _nolens volens_.”