They had a pleasant walk to their hotel, at the far end of the town; on their way they passed several handsome churches, one situated in a sort of court, the street terminating at the church. It was a pleasant evening service at the Richmond-street church: a very large congregation, hearty singing, and a good earnest sermon. On passing the pretty Congregational church on the corner of Adelaide and Bay streets, they walked in and found that the minister had just begun his sermon on, “At midnight there was a cry heard, Behold the Bridegroom cometh: go ye out to meet him.” The minister, with a strong Scotch accent was saying, as they entered, “Who of you would be willing to fix a time when you would be ready to hear that cry?” He spoke of the stillness and solemnity of the hour—midnight silence and darkness, when the slightest sound startles one; when the wind, or the rustling of a branch against the window, often terrifies one when sitting alone or suddenly awakened from sleep. What then will it be to hear the piercing tones of that trumpet that will rouse the universe? And then he said that that night might the cry sound to one who was listening to him, that suddenly, in the still watches of the night, that soul might be called to meet the Bridegroom. The morning would come; the family assembled at breakfast would miss the absent one, and on going to his room they would find only his lifeless remains; he would never meet with them again on earth. “Great God, is this our certain doom, And are we still secure? Still walking downward to the tomb, And yet prepared no more?” CHAPTER XXIII. ONCE MORE AT NIAGARA. Flow on forever in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty. God has set His rainbow on thy forehead, and the clouds Mantled around thy feet.—MRS. SIGOURNEY. Ontario was sleeping in the sunshine when they crossed it on Monday morning. “Is this an English or American fort?” asked Norman, as he looked at the massive walls of Fort Niagara at the mouth of the river. “It is an American fort,” said a young English officer, who stood near, “but we will come down and take it soon.” “Not so easily as you think,” replied Norman. “Yes we will,” said the Lieutenant; “we will come down and take it, and keep it too.” “I don’t believe you will,” said Norman. “We took it once,” rejoined the officer, “in the last war.” “But you did not keep it,” Norman replied. As Norman was going off the boat the Englishman said: “We will soon come and annex the United States.” From the boat to the cars, for the short ride to Clifton Station, there is a superb view of the Queenstown Heights, and Brock’s monument rising proudly on its grand pedestal.