says Peter de Langtoft, and his translator, Robert de Brunn; and they assign, among the reasons why he merited such mention at their hands, the following:

This notice of the old chroniclers' pioneer king of Britain has again and again recurred to us as we have had occasion to narrate the energetic doings of the first ruler of Upper Canada, here and previously. What Britain was when Belin and his Celts were at work, Canada was in the days of our immediate fathers—a trackless wild. That we see our country such as it is to-day, approaching in many respects the beauty and agricultural finish of Britain itself, is due to the intrepid men who faced without blenching the trials and perils inevitable in a first attack on the savage fastnesses of nature.

A succinct but good account is given of the origin of Yonge Street in Mr. Surveyor General D. W. Smith's Gazetteer of 1799. The advantages expected to accrue from the new highway are clearly set forth; and though the anticipations expressed have not been fulfilled precisely in the manner supposed, we see how comprehensive and really well-laid were the plans of the first organizer of Upper Canada.

"Yonge Street," the early Gazetteer says, "is the direct communication from York to Lake Simcoe, opened during the administration of his Excellency Major-General Lieut.-Governor Simcoe, who, having visited Lake Huron by Lake aux Claies (formerly also Ouentaronk, or Sinion, and now named Lake Simcoe), and discovered the harbour of Penetanguishene (now Gloucester) to be fit for shipping, resolved on improving the communication from Lake Ontario to Lake Huron, by this short route, thereby avoiding the circuitous passage of Lake Erie. This street has been opened in a direct line, and the road made by the troops of his Excellency's corps. It is thirty miles from York to Holland's river, at the Pine Fort called Gwillimbury, where the road ends; from thence you descend into Lake Simcoe, and, having passed it, there are two passages into Lake Huron; the one by the river Severn, which conveys the waters of Lake Simcoe into Gloucester Bay; the other by a small portage, the continuation of Yonge Street, to a small lake, which also runs into Gloucester Bay. This communication affords many advantages; merchandize from Montreal to Michilimackinac may be sent this way at ten or fifteen pounds less expense per ton, than by the route of the Grand or Ottawa River; and the merchandize from New York to be sent up the North and Mohawk Rivers for the north-west trade, finding its way into Lake Ontario at Oswego (Fort Ontario), the advantage will certainly be felt of transporting goods from Oswego to York, and from thence across Yonge Street, and down the waters of Lake Simcoe into Lake Huron, in preference to sending it by Lake Erie."

We now again endeavour to effect a start on our pilgrimage of retrospection up the long route, from the establishment of which so many public advantages were predicted in 1799.

The objects that came to be familiar to the eye at the entrance to Yonge Street from Lot Street were, after the lapse of some years, on the west side, a large square white edifice known as the Sun Tavern, Elliott's; and on the east side, the buildings constituting Good's Foundry.

The open land to the north of Elliott's was the place generally occupied by the travelling menageries and circuses when such exhibitions began to visit the town.

The foundry, after supplying the country for a series of years with ploughs, stoves and other necessary articles of heavy hardware, is memorable as having been the first in Upper Canada to turn out real railway locomotives. When novelties, these highly finished ponderous machines, seen slowly and very laboriously urged through the streets from the foundry to their destination, were startling phenomena. We have in the Canadian Journal (vol. ii. p. 76), an account of the first engine manufactured by Mr. Good at the Toronto Locomotive Works, with a lithographic illustration. "We have much pleasure," the editor of the Canadian Journal says "in presenting our readers with a drawing of the first locomotive engine constructed in Canada, and indeed, we believe, in any British Colony. The 'Toronto' is certainly no beauty, nor is she distinguished for any peculiarity in the construction, but she affords a very striking illustration of our progress in the mechanical arts, and of the growing wants of the country. The 'Toronto' was built at the Toronto Locomotive Works, which were established by Mr. Good, in October, 1852. The order for the 'Toronto' was received in February, 1853, for the Ontario, Simcoe and Huron Railroad. The engine was completed on the 16th of April, and put on the track the 26th of the same month. Her dimensions are as follows: cylinder 16 inches diameter, stroke 22 inches, driving wheel 5 feet 6 inches in diameter, length of internal fire box 4 feet 6 inches, weight of engine 25 tons, number of tubes 150, diameter of tubes 2 inches."

With property a little to the north on the east side, the name of McIntosh was early associated, and—Canadian persistency again—is still associated. Of Captains John, Robert and Charles McIntosh, we shall have occasion to speak in our paper on the early Marine of York harbour. It was opposite the residence of Captain John McIntosh that the small riot took place, which signalized the return home of William Lyon Mackenzie, in 1849, after the civil tumults of 1837. Mr. Mackenzie was at the time the guest of Captain McIntosh, who was related to him through a marriage connexion.

Albert Street, which enters Yonge Street opposite the McIntosh property, was in 1833 still known as Macaulay Lane, and was described by Walton as "fronting the Fields." From this point a long stretch of fine forest-land extended to Yorkville. On the left side it was the property partly of Dr. Macaulay and partly of Chief Justice Elmsley. The fields which Macaulay Lane fronted were the improvements around Dr. Macaulay's abode. The white entrance gate to his house was near where now a street leads into Trinity Square. Wykham Lodge, the residence of Sir James Macaulay after the removal from Front Street, and Elmsley Villa, the residence of Captain J. S. Macaulay, (Government House in Lord Elgin's day, and subsequently Knox College,) were late erections on portions of these spacious suburban estates.

The first Dr. Macaulay and Chief Justice Elmsley selected two adjoining park lots, both of them fronting, of course, on Lot Street. They then effected an exchange of properties with each other. Dividing these two lots transversely into equal portions, the Chief Justice chose the upper or northern halves, and Dr. Macaulay the lower or southern. Dr. Macaulay thus acquired a large frontage on Lot Street, and the Chief Justice a like advantage on Yonge Street. Captain Macaulay acquired his interest in the southern portion of the Elmsley halves by marriage with a daughter of the Chief Justice. The northern portion of these halves descended to the heir of the Chief Justice, Capt. John Elmsley, who having become a convert to the Church of Rome, gave facilities for the establishment of St. Basil's college and other Roman Catholic Institutions on his estate. Of Chief Justice Elmsley and his son we have previously spoken.

Dr. Macaulay's clearing on the north side of Macaulay lane was, in relation to the first town plot of York, long considered a locality particularly remote; a spot to be discovered by strangers not without difficulty. In attempting to reach it we have distinct accounts of persons bewildered and lost for long hours in the intervening marshes and woods. Mr. Justice Boulton, travelling from Prescott in his own vehicle, and bound for Dr. Macaulay's domicile, was dissuaded, on reaching Mr. Small's house at the eastern extremity of York, from attempting to push on to his destination, although it was by no means late, on account of the inconveniences and perils to be encountered; and half of the following day was taken up in accomplishing the residue of the journey.

Dr. Macaulay's cottage might still have been existent and in good order; but while it was being removed bodily by Mr. Alexander Hamilton, from its original site to a position on the entrance to Trinity Square, a few yards to the eastward, it was burnt, either accidentally or by the act of an incendiary. Mr. Hamilton, who was intending to convert the building into a home for himself and his family, gave the name of Teraulay Cottage—the name by which the destroyed building had been known—to the house which he put up in its stead.

A quarter of a century sufficed to transform Dr. Macaulay's garden and grounds into a well-peopled city district. The "fields," of which Walton spoke, have undergone the change which St. George's Fields and other similar spaces have undergone in London:

The area which Dr. Macaulay's homestead immediately occupied now constitutes Trinity Square—a little bay by the side of a great stream of busy human traffic, ever ebbing and flowing, not without rumble and other resonances; a quiet close, resembling, it is pleasant to think, one of the Inns of Court in London, so tranquil despite the turmoil of Fleet Street adjoining.

Trinity Square is now completely surrounded with buildings; nevertheless an aspiring attic therein, in which many of these collections and recollections have been reduced to shape, has the advantage of commanding to this day a view still showing within its range some of the primitive features of the site of York. To the north an extended portion of the rising land above Yorkville is pleasantly visible, looking in the distance as it anciently looked, albeit beheld now with spires intervening, and ornamental turrets of public buildings, and lofty factory flues: while to the south, seen also between chimney stacks and steeples and long solid architectural ranges, a glimpse of Lake Ontario itself is procurable—a glimpse especially precious so long as it is to be had, for not only recalling, as it does, the olden time when "the Lake" was an element in so much of the talk of the early settlers—its sound, its aspect, its condition being matters of hourly observation to them—but also suggesting the thought of the far-off outer ocean stream—the silver moat that guards the fatherland, and that forms the horizon in so many of its landscapes.

To the far-off Atlantic, and to the misty isles beyond—the true Insulæ Fortunatoe—we need not name them—the glittering slip which we are still permitted to see yonder, is the highway—the route by which the fathers came—the route by which their sons from time to time return to make dutiful visits to hearthstones and shrines never to be thought of or named without affection and reverence.—Of that other ideal ocean-stream, too, and of that other ideal home, of which the poet speaks, our peep of Ontario may likewise, to the thoughtful, be an allegory, by the help of which

The Church with the twin turrets, now seen in the middle space of Trinity Square, was a gift of benevolence to Western Canada in 1846 from two ladies, sisters. The personal character of Bishop Strachan was the attraction that drew the boon to Toronto. Through the hands of Bishop Longley of Ripon, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, a sum of £5,000 sterling was transmitted by the donors to Bishop Strachan for the purpose of founding a church, two stipulations being that it should be forever, like the ancient churches of England, free to all for worship, and that it should bear the name of The Holy Trinity. The sum sent built the Church and created a small endowment. Soon after the completion of the edifice, Scoresby, the celebrated Arctic navigator, author of "An Account of the Arctic Regions, with a History and Description of the Northern Whale Fishery," preached and otherwise officiated within its walls. Therein, too, at a later period was heard the voice of Selwyn, Bishop of Lichfield, but previously the eminent Missionary Bishop of New Zealand. Here also, while the Cathedral of St. James was rebuilding, after its second destruction by fire in 1849, Lord Elgin was a constant devout participant in Christian rites, an historical association connected with the building, made worthy of preservation by the very remarkable public services of the Earl afterwards in China and India.—We recall at this moment the empressement with which an obscure little chapel was pointed out to us in the small hamlet of Tregear in Cornwall, on account of the fact that John Wesley had once preached there. Well then: it may be that with some hereafter, it will be a matter of curiosity and interest to know that several men of world-wide note, did, in their day, while sojourning in this region, "pay their vows" in the particular "Lord's House" to which we now have occasion to refer.

In the grove which surrounded Sir James Macaulay's residence, Wykham Lodge, we had down to recent years a fragment of the fine forest which lined Yonge Street, almost continuously from Lot Street to Yorkville, some forty years since. The ruthless uprooting of the eastern border of this beautiful sylvan relic of the past, for building purposes, was painful to witness, however quickly the presence of rows of useful structures reconciled us to the change. The trees which cluster round the great school building in the rear of these improvements will long, as we hope, survive to give an idea of what was the primeval aspect of the whole of the neighbourhood.

The land on the opposite side, a little to the north of the point at which we have arrived, viz., Carleton Street—long remaining in an uncultivated condition, was a portion of the estate of Alexander Wood, of whom we have already spoken. His family and baptismal names are preserved, as we have before noted, in "Wood" Street and "Alexander" Street.

The streets which we passed southward of Wood Street, Carleton, Gerrard, Shuter, with Gould Street in the immediate vicinity, had their names from personal friends of Mr. McGill, the first owner, as we have seen, of this tract. They are names mostly associated with the early annals of Montreal, and seem rather inapposite here.

Northward, a little beyond where Grosvenor Street leads into what was Elmsley Villa, and is now Knox College, was a solitary green field with a screen of lofty trees on three of its sides. In its midst was a Dutch barn, or hay-barrack, with movable top. The sward on the northern side of the building was ever eyed by the passer-by with a degree of awe. It was the exact spot where a fatal duel had been fought.

We have seen in repeated instances that the so-called code of honour was in force at York from the era of its foundation. "Without it," Mandeville had said, "there would be no living in a populous nation. It is the tie of society; and although we are beholden to our frailties for the chief ingredient of it, there has been no virtue, at least that I am acquainted with, which has proved half so instrumental to the civilizing of mankind, who, in great societies, would soon degenerate into cruel villains and treacherous slaves, were honour to be removed from among them." Mandeville's sophistical dictum was blindly accepted, and trifles light as air gave rise to the conventional hostile meeting. The merest accident at a dance, a look, a jest, a few words of unconsidered talk, of youthful chaff, were every now and then sufficient to force persons who previously, perhaps, had been bosom friends, companions from childhood, along with others sometimes, in no wise concerned in the quarrel at first, to put on an unnatural show of thirst for each other's blood. The victim of the social usage of the day, in the case now referred to, was a youthful son of Surveyor-General Ridout.

Some years after the event, the public attention was drawn afresh to it. The surviving principal in the affair, Mr. Samuel Jarvis, underwent a trial at the time and was acquitted. But the seconds were not arraigned. It happened in 1828, eleven years after the incident (the duel took place July 12, 1817), that Francis Collins, editor of the Canadian Freeman, a paper of which we have before spoken, was imprisoned and fined for libel. As an act of retaliation on at least some of those who had promoted the prosecution, which ended in his being thus sentenced, he set himself to work to bring the seconds into court. He succeeded. One of them, Mr. Henry John Boulton, was now Solicitor-General, and the other, Mr. James E. Small, an eminent member of the Bar. All the particulars of the fatal encounter, were once more gone over in the evidence. But the jury did not convict.

Modern society, here and elsewhere, is to be congratulated on the change which has come over its ideas in regard to duelling. Apart from the considerations dictated by morals and religion, common sense, as we suppose, has had its effect in checking the practice. York, in its infancy, was no better and no worse in this respect than other places. It took its cue in this as in some other matters, from very high quarters. The Duke of York, from whom York derived its name, had himself narrowly escaped a bullet from the pistol of Colonel Lennox: "it passed so near to the ear as to discommode the side-curl," the report said; but our Duke's action, or rather inaction, on the occasion helped perhaps to impress on the public mind the irrationality of duelling: he did not return the fire. "He came out," he said, "to give Colonel Lennox satisfaction, and did not mean to fire at him; if Colonel Lennox was not satisfied, he might fire again."

Just to the north of the scene of the fatal duel, which has led to this digression, was the portion of Yonge Street where a wooden tramway was once laid down for a short distance; an experiment interesting to be remembered now, as an early foreshadowing of the existing convenient street railway, if not of the great Northern Railway itself. Subterranean springs and quicksands hereabout rendered the primitive roadmaker's occupation no easy one; and previous to the application of macadam, the tramway, while it lasted, was a boon to the farmers after heavy rains.

Mr. Durand's modest cottage and bowery grounds, near here, recall at the present day, an early praiseworthy effort of its owner to establish a local periodical devoted to Literature and Natural History, in conjunction with an advocacy of the cause of Temperance. A diligent attention to his profession as a lawyer did not hinder the editor of the Literary Gem from giving some of his leisure time to the observation and study of Nature. We accordingly have in the columns of that periodical numerous notes of the fauna and flora of the surrounding neighbourhood, which for their appreciativeness, simplicity, and minuteness, remind us of the pleasant pages of White's "Natural History of Selborne." The Gem appeared in 1851-2, and had an extensive circulation. It was illustrated with good wood-cuts, and its motto was "Humanity, Temperance, Progress." The place of its publication was indicated by a square label suspended on one side of the front entrance of a small white office still to be seen adjoining the cottage which we are now passing.

The father of Mr. Durand was an Englishman of Huguenot descent, who emigrated hither from Abergavenny at a very early period. Having been previously engaged in the East India mercantile service, he undertook the importation of East India produce. After reaching Quebec and Montreal in safety, his first consignments, embarked in batteaux, were swallowed up bodily in the rapids of the St. Lawrence. He nevertheless afterwards prospered in his enterprise, and acquired property. Nearly the whole of the eastern moiety of the present city of Hamilton was originally his. He represented the united counties of Wentworth and Halton in several parliaments up to 1822. A political journal, entitled The Bee, moderate and reasonable in tone, was, up to 1812, edited and published by him in the Niagara District. Mr. Durand, senior, died in 1833, at Hamilton, where he filled the post of County Registrar. His eldest son, Mr. James Durand, when, in 1817, member for Halton, enjoyed the distinction of being expelled from the House of Assembly. A Parliament had just expired. He offered some strictures on its proceedings, in an address to his late constituents. The new House, which embraced many persons who had been members of the previous Parliament, was persuaded to vote the Address to the electors of Halton a libel, to exclude its author from the House, and to commit him to prison. His instant re-election by the county of Halton was of course secured. We observe from the evidence of Mr. James Durand before the celebrated Grievance Committee of 1835, that he was an early advocate of a number of the changes which have since been carried into effect. This Mr. Durand died in 1872 at Kingston, where he was Registrar for the County of Frontenac.

We have been enabled to present these facts, through the kindness of Mr. Charles Durand, who, in a valuable communication, further informs us that besides being among the earliest to engage in mercantile enterprises in Upper Canada, his father had also in 1805, a large interest in the extensive flour mills in Chippawa, known as the Bridgewater Mills: mills burnt by the retreating American army in 1812, at which period Mr. Durand, senior, was in the command of one of the flank companies of Militia, composed of the first settlers in the neighbourhood of the modern Hamilton: moreover he was the first who ever imported foxhounds into Upper Canada, a pack of which animals he caused to be sent out to him from England, being fond of the hunter's sport. With these he hunted near Long Point, on Lake Erie, in 1805, over a region teeming at the time with deer, bears, wolves and wild turkeys. Mr. Peter Des Jardins, from whom the Dundas Canal has its name, was, in 1805, a clerk in the employment of Mr. Durand. (Omitted elsewhere, we insert here a passing notice of Mr. J. M. Cawdell, another well-remembered local pioneer of literature. He published for a short time a magazine of light reading, entitled the Rose harp, the bulk of which consisted of graceful compositions in verse and prose by himself. Mr. Cawdell had been an officer in the army. Through the friendship of Mr. Justice Macaulay (afterwards Sir James), he was appointed librarian and secretary to the Law Society of Osgoode Hall. He died in 1842.)

Proceeding now onward a few yards, we arrived, in former times, at what was popularly called the Sandhill—a moderate rise, showing where, in by-gone ages, the lake began to shoal. An object of interest in the woods here, at the top of the rise, on the west side, was the "Indian's Grave," made noticeable to the traveller by a little civilized railing surrounding it.

The story connected therewith was this: When the United States forces were landing in 1813, near the Humber Bay, with the intention of attacking the Fort and taking York, one of Major Givins' Indians, concealed himself in a tree, and from that position fired into the boats with fatal effect repeatedly. He was soon discovered, and speedily shot. The body was afterwards found, and deposited with respect in a little grave here on the crest of the Sandhill, where an ancient Indian burying ground had existed, though long abandoned. It would seem that by some means, the scalp of this poor Indian was packed up with the trophies of the capture of York, conveyed by Lieut. Dudley to Washington. From being found in company with the Speaker's Mace on that occasion, the foolish story arose of its having been discovered over the Speaker's chair in the Parliament building that was destroyed.

"With the exception," says Ingersoll, in his History of the War of 1812-14, "of the English general's musical snuff-box, which was an object of much interest to some of our officers, and a scalp which Major Forsyth found suspended over the Speaker's chair, we gained but barren honour by the capture of York, of which no permanent possession was taken."

Auchinleck, in his History of the same war, very reasonably observes, that "from the expertness of the backwoodsmen in scalping (of which he gives two or three instances), it is not at all unlikely that the scalp in question was that of an unfortunate Indian who was shot while in a tree by the Americans, in their advance on the town." It was rejected with disgust by the authorities at Washington, Ingersoll informs us, and was not allowed to decorate the walls of the War Office there. Colonel W. F. Coffin, in his "1812: The War and its Moral," asserts that a peruke or scratch-wig, found in the Parliament House, was mistaken for a scalp.

Building requirements have at the present day occasioned the almost complete obliteration of the Sandhill. Innumerable loads of the loose silex of which it was composed have been removed. The bones of the Indian brave, and of his forefathers, have been carried away. In a triturated condition, they mingle now, perhaps, in the mortar of many a wall in the vicinity.

Vain, however, was the poet's appeal. Even the prosaic proclamations of the civil power had but temporary effect. We quote one of them of the date of Dec. 14th, 1797, having for its object the protection of the fishing places and burying grounds of the Mississaga Indians:

"Proclamation. Upper Canada. Whereas, many heavy and grievous complaints have of late been made by the Mississaga Indians, of depredations committed by some of his Majesty's subjects and others upon their fisheries and burial places, and of other annoyances suffered by them by uncivil treatment, in violation of the friendship existing between his Majesty and the Mississaga Indians, as well as in violation of decency and good order: Be it known, therefore, that if any complaint shall hereafter be made of injuries done to the fisheries and to the burial places of the said Indians, or either of them, and the persons can be ascertained who misbehaved himself or themselves in manner aforesaid, such person or persons shall be proceeded against with the utmost severity, and a proper example made of any herein offending. Given under my hand and seal of arms, at York, this fourteenth day of December, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and ninety-seven, and in the thirty-eighth year of his Majesty's reign. Peter Russell, President, administering the government. By his Honour's command, Alex. Burns, Secretary."

As to the particular ancient burial-plot on the Sandhill north of York, however, it may perhaps be conjectured that prior to 1813 the Mississagas had transferred to other resting places the bulk of the relics which had been deposited there.

Off to the eastward of the sandy rise which we are ascending, was one of the early public nursery gardens of York, Mr. Frank's. Further to the North on the same side was another, Mr. Adams'. Mr. Adams was a tall, oval-faced, fair-complexioned Scotchman. An establishment of the same kind at York more primitive still, was that of Mr. Bond, of whom we shall have occasion to speak by and by.

Kearsny House, Mr. Proudfoot's, the grounds of which occupy the site of Frank's nursery garden, is a comparatively modern erection, dating from about 1845; an architectural object regarded with no kindly glance by the final holders of shares in the Bank of Upper Canada—an institution which in the infancy of the country had a mission and fulfilled it, but which grievously betrayed those of the second generation who, relying on its traditionary sterling repute, continued to trust it. With Kearsny House, too, is associated the recollection, not only of the president, so long identified with the Bank of Upper Canada, but of the financier, Mr. Cassells, who, as a kind of deus ex machinâ, engaged at an annual salary of ten thousand dollars, was expected to retrieve the fortunes of the institution, but in vain, although for a series of years after being pronounced moribund it continued to yield a handsome addition to the income of a number of persons.

Mr. Alexander Murray, subsequently of Yorkville, and a merchant of the olden time at York, occupied the residence which preceded Kearsny House, on the Frank property. One desires, in passing, to offer a tribute to the memory of a man of such genuine worth as was Mr. Murray, although the singular unobtrusiveness which characterized him when living seems almost to forbid the act.

The residue of the Sandhill rise that is still to be discerned westward of Yonge Street has its winsome name, Clover Hill, from the designation borne by the home of Captain Elmsley, son of the Chief Justice, situate here. The house still stands, overshadowed by some fine oaks, relics of the natural wood. The rustic cottage lodge, with diamond lattice windows, at the gate leading in to the original Clover Hill, was on the street a little further on. At the time of his decease, Captain Elmsley had taken up his abode in a building apart from the principal residence of the Clover Hill estate; a building to which he had pleasantly given the name of Barnstable, as being in fact a portion of the outbuildings of the homestead turned into a modest dwelling.

Barnstable was subsequently occupied by Mr. Maurice Scollard, a veteran attaché of the Bank of Upper Canada, of Irish birth, remembered by all frequenters of that institution, and by others for numerous estimable traits of character, but especially for a gift of genuine quiet humour and wit, which at a touch was ever unfailingly ready to manifest itself in word or act, in some unexpected, amusing, genial way. Persons transacting business at the India House in London, when Charles Lamb was a book-keeper there, must have had the solemn routine of the place now and then curiously varied by a dry "aside" from the direction of his desk. Just so the habitués of the old Bank, when absorbed in a knotty question of finance, affecting themselves individually, or the institution, would oftentimes find themselves startled from their propriety by a droll view of the case, gravely suggested by a venerable personage sure to be somewhere near at hand busily engaged over a huge ledger.

They who in the mere fraction of a lifetime have seen in so many places the desert blossom as the rose, can with a degree of certainty, realize in their imagination what the whole country will one day be, even portions of it which to the new comer seem at the first glance very unpromising. Our Sandhill here, which but as yesterday we beheld in its primeval condition, with no trace of human labour upon it except a few square yards cleared round a solitary Indian grave, to-day we see crowned along its crest for many a rood eastward and westward with comfortable villas and graceful pleasure-grounds. The history of this spot may serve to encourage all who at any time or anywhere are called in the way of duty to be the first to attack and rough-hew a forest-wild for the benefit of another generation.

If need were to stay the mind of a newly-arrived immigrant friend wavering as to whether or not he should venture permanently to cast in his lot with us, we should be inclined to direct his regards, for one thing, to the gardens of an amateur, on the southern slope of the rise, at which we are pausing, where choice fruits and flowers are year after year produced equal to those grown in Kent or Devon; we should be inclined to direct his regards, likewise, to the amateur cultivator himself of those fruits and flowers, Mr. Phipps—a typical Englishman after a residentership in York and Toronto of half a century.

But we must push on.—To the north of our Sandhill, a short distance, on the east side, was a sylvan halting place for weary teams, known as the Gardeners' Arms. It was an unpretending rural wayside inn, furnished with troughs and pump. The house lay a little way back from the road. Its sign exhibited an heraldic arrangement of horticultural implements. Another rural inn, with homely name, might have been noted, while we were nearer Lot Street: the Green Bush Tavern. But this was a name transferred from another spot, far to the north on Yonge Street, when the landlord, Mr. Abrahams, moved into town. In the original locality, the sign was a painted pine-tree or spruce of formal shape—not the ivy-bush, the sign referred to by the ancient proverb when it said, "Wine needeth it not"—"Vino vendibili non opus est suspensa hedera."

On the right, beyond the Gardeners' Arms, appeared in this region at an early date, at a considerable distance from each other, two or perhaps three flat, single-storey square cottages, clapboarded and painted white, with flat four-sided roofs, door in the centre and one window on either side: little wooden boxes set down on the surface of the soil apparently, and capable, as it might seem, of being readily lifted up and transported to any other locality. They were the first of such structures in the outskirts of York, and were speedily copied and repeated in various directions, being thought models of neatness and convenience.

Opposite the quarter where these little square hutches were to be seen, there are to be found at the present day, the vineyards of Mr. Bevan; to be found, we say, for they are concealed from the view of the transient passenger by intervening buildings. Here again we have a scene presenting a telling contrast to the same spot and its surroundings within the memory of living men: a considerable area covered with a labyrinth of trellis work, all overspread with hardy grapes in great variety and steadily productive. To this sight likewise we should introduce our timid, hesitating new comer, as also to the originator of the spectacle—Mr. Bevan, who after a forty years' sojourn in the vicinity of York and Toronto, continues as genuinely English in spirit and tone now as when he first left the quay of his native Bristol for his venture westward. While engaged largely in the manufacture of various articles of wooden ware, Mr. Bevan adopted as a recreation the cultivation of the grape, and the making of a good and wholesome wine. It is known in commerce and to physicians, who recommend it to invalids for its real purity, as Clintona.

Just before reaching the first concession-road, where Yorkville now begins, a family residence of an ornamental suburban character, put up on the left by Mr. Lardner Bostwick, was the first of that class of building in the neighbourhood. His descendants still occupy it. Mr. Bostwick was an early property owner in York. The now important square acre at the south-east angle of the intersection of King Street and Yonge Street, regarded probably when selected, as a mere site for a house and garden in the outskirts of the town, was his. The price paid for it was £100. Its value in 1873 may be £100,000.

The house of comparatively modern date, seen next after Mr. Bostwick, is associated with the memory of Mr. de Blaquiere, who occupied it before building for himself the tasteful residence—The Pines—not far off, where he died; now the abode of Mr. John Heward.

Mr. de Blaquiere was the youngest son of the first Lord de Blaquiere, of Ardkill, in Ireland. He emigrated in 1837, and was subsequently appointed to a seat in the Legislative Council of Upper Canada. In his youth he had seen active service as a midshipman. He was present at the battle of Camperdown in the Bounty, commanded by Captain Bligh. He was also in the Fleet at the Nore during the mutiny. He died suddenly here in his new house in 1860, aged 76. His fine character and prepossessing outward physique are freshly remembered.

Thus again and again have we to content ourselves with the interest that attaches, not to the birth-places of men of note, as would be the case in older towns, but to their death-places. Who of those that have been born in the numerous domiciles which we pass are finally to be ranked as men of note, and as creators consequently of a sentimental interest in their respective birth-places, remains to be seen. In our portion of Canada there has been time for the application of the requisite test in only a very few instances.

The First Concession Road-line derived its modern name of Bloor Street from a former resident on its southern side, eastward of Yonge Street. Mr. Bloor, as we have previously narrated, was for many years the landlord of the Farmers' Arms, near the market place of York, an inn conveniently situated for the accommodation of the agricultural public. On retiring from this occupation with a good competency, he established a Brewery on an extensive scale in the ravine north of the first concession road. In conjunction with Mr. Sheriff Jarvis, he entered successfully into a speculation on land, projecting and laying out the village of Yorkville, which narrowly escaped being Bloorville. That name was proposed: as also was Rosedale, after the Sheriff's homestead; and likewise "Cumberland," from the county of some of the surrounding inhabitants. The monosyllable "Blore" would have sufficed, without having recourse to a hackeyned suffix. That is the name of a spot in Staffordshire, famous for a great engagement in the wars between the Houses of Lancaster and York. But Yorkville was at last decided on, an appellation preservative in part of the name just discarded in 1834 by Toronto.

Mr. Bloor was an Englishman, respected by every one. That his name should have become permanently attached to the Northern Boulevard of the City of Toronto, a favourite thoroughfare, several miles in extent, is a curious fact which may be compared with the case of Pimlico, the famous west-end quarter of London. Pimlico has its name, it is said, from Mr. Benjamin Pimlico, for many years the popular landlord of a hotel in the neighbourhood. Bloor Street was for a time known as St. Paul's road: also as the Sydenham road.

While crossing the First Concession Line, now in our northward journey, the moment comes back to us when on glancing along the vista to the eastward, formed by the road in that direction, we first noticed a church-spire on the right-hand or southern side. We had passed that way a day or two before, and we were sure no such object was to be seen there then; and yet, unmistakeably now, there rose up before the eye a rather graceful tower and spire, of considerable altitude, complete from base to apex, and coloured white.

The fact was: Mr. J. G. Howard, a well-known local architect, had ingeniously constructed a tower of wood in a horizontal, or nearly horizontal, position in the ground close by, somewhat as a shipbuilder puts together "the mast of some vast ammiral," and then, after attending to the external finish of, at least, the higher portion of it, even to a coating of lime wash, had, in the space of a few hours, by means of convenient machinery raised it on end, and secured it, permanently, in a vertical position.

We gather some further particulars of the achievement from a contemporary account. The Yorkville spire was raised on the 4th of August, 1841. It was 85 feet high, composed of four entire trees or pieces of timber, each of that length, bound together pyramidically, tapering from ten feet base to one foot at top, and made to receive a turned ball and weather-cock. The base was sunk in the ground until the apex was raised ten feet from the ground; and about thirty feet of the upper part of the spire was completed, coloured and painted before the raising. The operation of raising commenced about two o'clock p.m., and about eight in the evening, the spire and vane were seen erect, and appeared to those unacquainted with what was going on, to have risen amongst the trees, as if by magic. The work was performed by Mr. John Richey; the framing by Mr. Wetherell, and the raising was superintended by Mr. Joseph Hill.

The plan adopted was this: three gin-poles, as they are called, were erected in the form of a triangle; each of them was well braced, and tackles were rove at their tops: the tackles were hooked to strong straps about fifty feet up the spire, with nine men to each tackle, and four men to steady the end with following poles. It was raised in about four hours from the commencement of the straining of the tackles, and had a very beautiful appearance while rising. The whole operation, we have been told, was conducted as nearly as possible in silence, the architect himself regulating by signs the action of the groups at the gin-poles, being himself governed by the plumb-line suspended in a high frame before him.

Perhaps Fontana's exploit of setting on end the obelisk in front of St. Peter's, in Rome, suggested the possibility of causing a tower and spire complete to be suddenly seen rising above the roof of the Yorkville St. Paul's. On an humble scale we have Fontana's arrangements reproduced. While in the men at the gin-poles worked in obedience to signs, we have the old Egyptians over again—a very small detachment of them indeed—as seen in the old sculptures on the banks of the Nile.

The original St. Paul's before it acquired in this singular manner the dignified appurtenance of a steeple, was a long, low, barn-like, wooden building. Mr. Howard otherwise improved it, enlarging it by the addition of an aisle on the west side. When some twenty years later, viz., in 1861, the new stone church was erected, the old wooden structure was removed bodily to the west side of Yonge Street, together with the tower, curtailed, however, of its spire.

We have been informed that the four fine stems, each eighty-five feet long, which formed the interior frame of the tower and spire of 1841, were a present from Mr. Allan, of Moss Park; and that the Rev. Charles Matthews, occasionally officiating in St. Paul's, gave one hundred pounds in cash towards the expense of the ornamental addition now made to the edifice.

The history of another of Mr. Howard's erections on Yonge Street, which we are perambulating, illustrates the rapid advance and expansion of architectural ideas amongst us. In the case now referred to it was no shell of timber and deal-boards that was taken down, but a very handsome solid edifice of cut-stone, which might have endured for centuries. The Bank of British North America, built by Mr. Howard, at the corner of Yonge Street and Wellington Street in 1843, was deliberately taken down, block by block, in 1871, and made to give place to a structure which should be on a par in magnificence and altitude with the buildings put up in Toronto by the other Banks. Mr. Howard's building, at the time of its erection, was justly regarded as a credit to the town. Its design was preferred by the directors in London to those sent in by several architects there. Over the principal entrance were the Royal Arms, exceedingly well carved in stone on a grand scale, and wholly disengaged from the wall; and conspicuous over the parapet above was the great scallop-shell, emblem of the gold-digger's occupation, introduced by Sir John Soane, in the architecture of the Bank of England. (The Royal Arms of the old building have been deemed worthy of a place over the entrance to the new Bank.)

The Cemetery, the gates and keeper's lodge of which, after crossing the concession road and advancing on our way northward, we used to see on the left, was popularly known as "The Potter's Field"—"a place to bury strangers in." Its official style was "The York General or Strangers' Burying Ground." In practice it was the Bunhill Fields of York—the receptacle of the remains of those whose friends declined the use of the St. James's churchyard and other early burial-plots.

Walton's Directory for 1833, gives the following information, which we transfer hither, as well for the slight degree of quaintness which the narrative has acquired, as also on account of the familiar names which it contains. "This institution," Walton says, "owes its origin to Mr. Carfrae, junior. It comprises six acres of ground, and has a neat sexton's house built close by the gate. The name of the sexton is John Wolstencroft, who keeps a registry of every person buried therein. Persons of all creeds and persons of no creed, are allowed burial in this cemetery: fees to the sexton, 5s. It was instituted in the fall of 1825, and incorporated by Act of Parliament, 30th January, 1826. It is managed by five trustees, who are chosen for life; and in case of the death of any of them, a public meeting of the inhabitants is called, when they elect a successor or successors in their place. The present trustees (1833) are Thomas Carfrae, jun., Thomas D. Morrison, Peter Paterson, John Ewart, Thomas Helliwell."

(Mr. Carfrae was for some years the collector of Customs of the Port of York. The other trustees named were respectively the medical man, iron-merchant, builder, and brewer, so well known in the neighbourhood.)

A remote sequestered piece of ground in 1825, the Potter's Field in 1845 was more or less surrounded by buildings, and regarded as an impediment in the way of public improvement. Interments were accordingly prohibited. To some extent it has been cleared of human remains, and in due time will be built over. Its successor and representative is the Toronto Necropolis, the trustees of which are empowered, after the lapse of twenty-one years, to sell the old burying-ground.

Proceeding on, we were immediately opposite the Red Lion Tavern, anciently Tiers', subsequently Price's, on the east side; a large and very notable halting-place for loaded teams after the tremendous struggle involved in the traverse of the Blue Hill ravine, of which presently.

In old European lands, in times by-gone, the cell of a hermit, a monastery, a castle, became often the nucleus of a village or town. With us on the American continent, a convenient watering or baiting place in the forest for the wearied horses of a farmer's waggon or a stage-coach is the less romantic punctum saliens for a similar issue. Thus Tiers's, at which we have paused, may be regarded as the germ of the flourishing incorporation of Yorkville. Many a now solitary way-station on our railroads will probably in like manner hereafter prove a centre round which will be seen a cluster of human habitations.

We discover from a contemporary Gazette that so early as 1808, previous, perhaps, to the establishment of the Red Lion on Yonge Street, Mr. Tiers had conducted a public house in the Town of York. In the Gazette of June 13, 1808, we have the following announcement. It has an English ring; "Beefsteak and Beer House.—The subscriber informs his friends and the public that he has opened a house of entertainment next door to Mr. Hunt's, where his friends will be served with victualing in good order, on the shortest notice, and at a cheap rate. He will furnish the best strong beer at 8d. New York currency per gallon if drank in his house, and 2s. 6d. New York currency taken out. As he intends to keep a constant supply of racked beer, with a view not to injure the health of his customers, and for which he will have to pay cash, the very small profits at which he offers to sell, will put it out of his power to give credit, and he hopes none will be asked. N.B. He will immediately have entertainment for man and horse. Daniel Tiers. York, 12th January, 1808."

The singular Hotel de Ville which in modern times distinguishes Yorkville, has a Flemish look. It might have strayed hither from Ghent. Nevertheless, as seen from numerous points of view, it cannot be characterized as picturesque, or in harmony with its surroundings.—The shield of arms sculptured in stone and set in the wall above the circular window in the front gable, presents the following charges arranged quarterly: a Beer-barrel, with an S below; a Brick-mould, with an A below; an Anvil, with a W below; and a Jackplane, with a D below. In the centre, in a shield of pretence, is a Sheep's head, with an H below. These symbols commemorate the first five Councillors or Aldermen of Yorkville at the time of its incorporation in 1853, and their trades or callings; the initials being those respectively of the surnames of Mr. John Severn, Mr. Thomas Atkinson, Mr. James Wallis, Mr. James Dobson, and Mr. Peter Hutty. Over the whole, as a crest, is the Canadian Beaver.

The road which enters from the west, a little way on, calls up memories of Russel-hill, Davenport and Spadina, each of them locally historic. We have already spoken of them in our journey along Front Street and Queen Street, when, in crossing Brock Street, Spadina-house in the distance caught the eye. It is a peculiarity of this old bye-road that, instead of going straight, as most of our highways monotonously do, it meanders a little, unfolding a number of pretty suburban scenes. The public school, on the land given to Yorkville by Mr. Ketchum, is visible up this road.

In this direction were the earliest public ice-houses established in our region, in rude buildings of slab, thickly thatched over with pine branches. Spring-water ice, gathered from the neighbouring mill-ponds, began to be stored here in quantities by an enterprising man of African descent, Mr. Richards, five-and-thirty years ago.

On the east side of Yonge Street, near the northern toll-gate, stood Dr. R. C. Horne's house, the lurid flames arising from which somewhat alarmed the town in 1837, when the malcontents of the north were reported to be approaching with hostile intent. Of Dr. Horne we have already spoken, in connexion with the early press of York.

Were the tall and very beautiful spire which in the present day is to be seen where the Davenport Road enters Yonge Street, the appendage of an ecclesiastical edifice of the mediæval period—as the architecture implies—it would indicate, in all probability, the presence of a Church of St. Giles. St. Ægidius or Giles presided, it was imagined, over the entrances to cities and towns. Consequently, fancy will always have it, whenever we pass the interesting pile standing so conspicuously by a public gate, or where for a long while there was a public gate, leading into the town, that here we behold the St. Giles' of Toronto.