"Can the language of strangers, in accents unknown, Send a thrill to the bosom like that of our own! The face may be fair, and the smile may be bland, But it breathes not the tones of our dear native land. There's no spot on earth Like the home of our birth, Where heroes keep guard o'er the altar and hearth. "How sweet is the language that taught us to blend The dear names of father, of husband, and friend; That taught us to lisp on our mother's fond breast, The ballads she sang as she rock'd us to rest! May the blessing of God Ever hallow the sod, And its valleys and hills by our children be trode! "May old England long lift her white crest o'er the wave, The birth-place of science, the home of the brave! In her cities may peace and prosperity dwell! May her daughters in beauty and virtue excel! May their beauty and worth Bless the land of their birth, While heroes keep guard o'er the altar and hearth!" CHAPTER XIX Conclusion "Why dost thou fear to speak the honest truth? Speak boldly, fearlessly, what thou think'st right, And time shall justify thy words and thee!" S.M. We left Niagara at noon. A very pleasant drive brought us to Queenstone, and we stepped on board the "Chief Justice" steamboat, that had just touched the wharf, and was on her return trip to Toronto. Tired and ill, I was glad to lie down in one of the berths in the ladies' cabin to rest, and, if possible, to obtain a little sleep. This I soon found was out of the question. Two or three noisy, spoiled children kept up a constant din; and their grandmother, a very nice-looking old lady, who seemed nurse-general to them all, endeavoured in vain to keep them quiet. Their mother was reading a novel, and took it very easy; reclining on a comfortable sofa, she left her old mother all the fatigue of taking care of the children, and waiting upon herself. This is by no means an uncommon trait of Canadian character. In families belonging more especially to the middle class, who have raised themselves from a lower to a higher grade, the mother, if left in poor circumstances, almost invariably holds a subordinate position in her wealthier son or daughter's family. She superintends the servants, and nurses the younger children; and her time is occupied by a number of minute domestic labours, that allow her very little rest in her old age. I have seen the grandmother in a wealthy family ironing the fine linen, or broiling over the cook-stove, while her daughter held her place in the drawing-room. How differently in my own country are these things ordered! where the most tender attention is paid to the aged, all their wants studied, and their comfort regarded as a sacred thing.