For The Journal - Communicated by a travelling correspondent, dated Marshville, May 13
Mr. Editor - Since I penned my last communication, I have travelled from Port Dalhousie to Dunnville, on the Welland Canal. During my tour, I have regarded with deep interest, that link in the chain of navigation which connects Lake Erie with Lake Ontario, and opens a channel of communication between two great and growing countries.
You and most of your readers are aware that the feeder of the Welland Canal has lately been materially improved in width and depth. Many of the locks have also been repaired; several new bridges erected, and some parts of the tow path are so smooth and as firm as a macadamized road. Yet there is abundant room for further improvement. When the contractors shall have finished their engagements, this portion of the canal will not suffer in comparison with any artificial water communication of the same extent, on the continent of America.
If our neighbors wish to see proofs of Canadian enterprise, let them travel along the line of the canal, from Dunnville to Port Dalhousie, and I am confident they will not hesitate to affirm that William Hamilton Merritt is the Clinton of Canada.
Immense quantities of pork, flour, and almost every other description of produce, ares hipped through the medium of this work, to every port on the lakes. I have seen strings of schooners wending their way from lock to lock, resembling a floating forest, at a distance. Here and there a raft or scow crawling sluggishly along, hugging the heel-path, to make room for the swifter packet-boat.
In travelling on the canal, your are not obliged to be constantly nodding and dodging for fear of being made a head shorter by the bridges - one or more persons generally volunteering to throw open the swing bridges that span the canal, when the craft can pass on without meeting any obstacle whatever, to impede its progress. A variety of soil and scenery refresh the eye of the observer - and among the hills, and over valleys; and if he wishes to fall into the embrace of Morphus, let him do so whilst passing through the Cranberry Marsh. G.W.R.