Beautiful as the environs of the city appear when seen at a distance, they do not appear less so on a more close inspection; and in passing through them the eye is entertained with a most pleasing variety of fine landscapes, whilst the mind is equally gratified with the appearance of content and happiness that reigns in the countenances of the inhabitants. Indeed, if a country as fruitful as it is picturesque, a genial and healthy climate, and a tolerable share of civil and religious liberty, can make people happy, none ought to appear more so than the Canadians, during this delightful season of the year. Before I dismiss this subject entirely, I must give you a brief account of two scenes in the vicinity of Quebec, more particularly deserving of attention than any others. The one is the Fall of the River Montmorenci; the other, that of the Chaudiere. The former stream runs into the St. Lawrence, about seven miles below Quebec; the latter joins the same river nearly at an equal distance above the city. The Montmorenci River runs in a very irregular course, through a wild and thickly wooded country, over a bed of broken rocks, till it comes to the brink of a precipice, down which it descends in one uninterrupted and nearly perpendicular fall of two hundred and forty feet. The stream of water in this river, except at the time of floods, is but scanty, but being broken into foam by rushing with such rapidity as it does over the rocks at the top of the precipice, it is thereby much dilated, and in its fall appears to be a sheet of water of no inconsiderable magnitude. The breadth of the river at top, from bank to bank, is about fifty feet only. In its fall, the water has the exact appearance of snow, as when thrown in heaps from the roof of a house, and it seemingly descends with a very slow motion. The spray at the bottom is considerable, and when the sun happens to shine bright in the middle of the day, the prismatic colours are exhibited in it in all their variety and lustre. At the bottom of the precipice the water is confined in a sort of bason, as it were, by a mass of rock, extending nearly across the fall, and out of this it flows with a gentle current to the St. Lawrence, which is about three hundred yards distant. The banks of the Montmorenci, below the precipice, are nearly perpendicular on one side, and on both inaccessible, so that if a person be desirous of getting to the bottom of the fall, he must descend down the banks of the St. Lawrence, and walk along the margin of that river till he comes to the chasm through which the Montmorenci flows. To a person sailing along the St. Lawrence, past the mouth of the chasm, the fall appears in great beauty. [Sidenote: GRAND FALLS.]