English reporters in a place of worship on a Sunday are certainly more modest, and prefer to blush unseen. Toronto rises up, with its grand public buildings, proudly from the shore. The site of the city was very marshy, and at one time it was known as Muddy York. Only yesterday a lady was telling me how her mother was near losing her life in the mud of the chief street, leaving behind her the English pattens of which she was so proud. The further from the lake, the more the land rises, till you reach where, as Tom Moore wrote— ‘The blue hills of old Toronto shed Their evening shadows o’er Ontario’s bed.’ [Picture: King Street, Toronto] In 1812 the population of the place was under 1,000. It is now, including the suburbs, where some of the wealthiest citizens live in houses as well-built and as luxuriously fitted up as any in London, about 116,000. King Street, the principal one, is built up with substantial brick and stone buildings, many of which are equal to any on the American Continent. Forty years since, it was completely composed of wooden structures, and was barely passable to pedestrians. Now, it is adorned with stately stores, where the latest novelties of the Old World and the New are ostentatiously displayed. The public buildings are quite an ornament to the place, and the offices of the leading newspaper, _The Toronto Mail_, are one of the sights of the city. The yearly civic income and expenditure is over 2,000,000 dollars, and the assessed value of property last year was 61,942,581 dollars. The streets are spacious, well laid out, and regularly built. The two main arteries of the city are King and George Streets, which, crossing each other at right angles, divide the city into four large sections. I don’t think house-rent is cheap. I have been in one or two private houses, the rents of which seemed to me certainly dearer than would be the rents of similar houses in London. But, then, in Toronto—think of it, O respected Paterfamilias!—the best cuts of meat are about eightpence a pound, and prime butter is not much more, and—Sir Henry Thompson will rejoice to hear this—there is a plentiful supply of fish. The city also boasts of fine theatres, and halls, and colleges; while the Episcopalian Cathedral in James Street possesses the celebrated chimney and illuminated clock which took the first prize at the Vienna Exhibition, and which was purchased by the citizens, and presented to the Dean and churchwardens of the place on Christmas-eve, 1876. They tell me, however, that the strongest body of Christians in the city is that of the Wesleyans. I am staying at Walker House, the most comfortable place which I have discovered thus far. Toronto itself offers few opportunities to the emigrant, and the citizens are not enthusiastic in his favour. I met a reverend gentleman from England here, who, the other night, at a meeting