The river St. John, in New Brunswick, by which the Prince traveled to Fredericton, is worthy of a fame far more extended than it now possesses. Near its mouth, at the harbor of St. John, the scenery is of a character as bold and varied as any to be found on the Hudson, and far away in the interior, over the entire length of its main stream—a distance of three hundred and sixty miles—scenes of rare picturesque beauty frequently present themselves, while in no part is there monotony or utter tameness. About sixty miles above Fredericton the river presents a series of falls, which descend perpendicularly over a depth of seventy feet.

New Brunswick gave the Prince a loyal reception, but it was second in magnificence to that of Halifax. This was as I anticipated. At Halifax there were six British ships of war, half a dozen batteries and two regiments of the line, besides artillery to thunder out royal salutes in his honor, and it being the capital, and his stay there more prolonged than at either St. John's or Fredericton, more opportunities were afforded for display than at either of the two places named. The cheering at the landing stage at St. Jolnr's was not as enthusiastic as it might have been, but I rightly attributed it to a lack of manner rather than of feeling, for I observed an awe, amounting to reverence, pictured in the faces of all I saw.