10 PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND

Blockhouse Point on the one side and Keppoch on the other, the voyager finds himself in a splendid harbor—almost land—lockedvforrned by the confluence of the Hills- borough or East River, the West River, and the North River. In this harbor the largest warships in the English navy can anchor, and every summer some of the vessels attached to the North Atlantic squadron pay Charlottetown a visit. If the traveller is just from Halifax or Pictou, or from any ports in Cape Breton or up the St. Lawrence, the change from the rocky shores of the former places to the verdant well-tilled fields and thick woods of the Island is most surprising. Long before landing one comes to the conclusion that P. E. Island has a perfect right to the title of

the Garden of the Gulf.

About three miles from the mouth of the harbor the City of Charlottetown occupies a pleasant site, being laid out upon a slope that gradually rises from the water’s edge to a height of 50 feet above sea level.

A glance at the map will show the advantages Charlottetown possesses as regards a healthful situation, the city being almost surrounded by the sea.

Fort Edward.

On a prominent point of land commanding the entrance to the harbor is Tort Edward, with a battery of four guns. This is all that remains of a number of fortifi- cations erected during the time of the revolutionary war. From this battery salites are fired on Queen’s Birthday, and other occasions, by detachments of volurreer artillery.

Thirty years ago a writer called Charlottetown “a city of rectangles and red clay, regular in its streets and uniform in its color ; but the advantages of a situation beautifully sloping to a fine esturial sheet of water, have not had justice done then ; but at some future day, probably there will be some sort of ‘ Tyburnia ’ or ‘ Belgraiia,’ where mansion follows mansion in ”clustering magnificence, and one will be spared the feeling of having seen a whole town after looking at one imported stone Colmial Building, which, alone in its glory, stands like ‘ Patience on a monument, smilin,r at grief,’ or in its naked amplitude, groveless and unshrubbed. * * * * But vere