Charles Gethings, son of Captain James Gethings, an Irish officer of the old 100th Regiment, was born in Bona Vista, Newfoundland, and came to this country with his father. His first residence was that occupied formerly by Hon. George Primrose. Captain Gethings was stricken with paralysis while mounting guard at Hope Gate, and died at the fourth house on the right hand going up towards the Fabrique. His son Charles, after being employed a short time in the Commissariat, then with Gillespie, Moffatt & Co., Montreal, subsequently in the City Bank of Quebec, spent many years as manager of the Quebec Bank, Quebec, receiving to the day of his death a liberal pension from the Quebec Bank. A kind father, a scrupulously upright man, the family all honor his memory. He sleeps in St. Matthew’s churchyard vault. *NEW YEAR’S DAY, 1840—IN QUEBEC.* Old Time, with customary speed, Has passed us on his flying steed, And once again a New Year’s day Now greets us smiling bright and gay. My young friends, I live so little in the present, so much in the past, I hardly know the customs of modern society, but I am not so totally out of the world as not to be conscious that old-time hospitalities on that day are quite relegated to the past, and happily the cake and wine given once so freely are no longer fashionable, for I think now with amaze of our ancient customs, and wonder how, having partaken of the lavish hospitality of these old days, any of our beaux could have got home without the aid of Dickens’ traditional wheelbarrow. As it may amuse you I will just give you a picture of New Year’s day as kept about forty years ago. Well, I cannot state what precise year, but one New Year’s day the courtyard of the English Cathedral was a mass of glare ice, just like a skating rink, and no lady could go to service at the English cathedral without the assistance of a well-shod beau to help her to keep her equilibrium, and after service return with me to the home of one of our city belles. You will find the mother of the family in full dress, seated in a comfortable arm chair, a bright fire burning in the grate, magazine in hand, to while away the hour when the ready attendant will usher in the first visitor. A couple of young ladies beside her, in full dress, pink, blue or gray satin or silk décolleté, a heavy gold chain or valuable watch visible attached to a handsome gold watch hook on the side of the dress, a bouquet holder in one hand, and embroidered handkerchief and white kid gloves and numerous bracelets, they sit with all the indifference it is possible to simulate, till the announcement of Mr. A, soon followed by B, C, D, and E, till the room is so crowded only the compliments of the season can be exchanged before with a bow one gentleman gives place to another, and so numerous are the visitors in some favored houses, perhaps even eighty in a day, one of the family