[BOURINOT ] DUNDURN AND BURLINGTON HEIGHTS 11 
of the Bay of Quinté, where lofty elms alone tell in many places of the 
pioneer’s grave—from the banks of the swift Niagara, where so many 
weary wanderers found a refuge—from many a lonely graveyard in the 
counties of Lincoln, Welland, and Wentworth—from the storm-swept 
beaches of the Atlantic coast, where the surf ever beats a requiem in 
memory of the hapless exiles who wept on those lonely shores ? Do we 
not hear the voices of Brock and the York volunteers as they dashed 
up the heights of Queenston ? Do we not hear—do not all true French 
Canadians in these days of Imperial necessity hear the voices of De 
Salaberry and his French Voltigeurs amid the bugle-calls and the In- 
dian yells which reéchoed, far and wide, through the woods of Chateau- 
guay ? Do we not hear the voices of Vincent, Harvey, and Fitzgibbon 
on Burlington Heights ? Do we not hear, amid the din of musketry, 
mingled with the roar of the great cataract, the voices of the English 
and Canadian soldiers led by Drummond on that famous midsummer 
night in Lundy’s Lane ? Do we not hear the voices of MacNab and the 
men of Gore, as they set forth to put down treason to the Crown, and 
save Upper Canada from Mackenzie’s mad effort to win political rights 
by rebellion ? Does not Inglis call to us from the beleaguered walls of 
Lucknow ? Williams from the ancient capital of Kars? Parker and 
Welsford from the trenches of the Redan ? Do we not hear the shouts 
of undaunted Canadians as they dashed into the trenches at Paardeberg 
on the Modder River ? And, alas, do we not hear the sad voice of many 
a Canadian woman, as she weeps for “ her soldier slain” and thinks of 
that grave in South Africa which she will never see ? Do not the voices 
of Baldwin, Lafontaine, Howe, MacNab, Wilmot, Cartier, and above all 
of Sir John Macdonald, tell us to continue true to those principles of 
government which they laid deep and firm in the provinces of this wide 
Dominion ? But, though we may now hear only in imagination the 
voices of these Makers and Defenders of Canada—of these Pioneers, 
Soldiers, and Statesmen—their spirit still survives in the deep loyalty 
of the people of the Dominion to the Crown and Empire—in the con- 
fidence with which they are labouring to develop the great national 
heritage which they possess on the American continent. And as I listen 
to these voices of the past, I recall the verses of an eloquent son of a 
loyalist, of the Nova Scotian, Joseph Howe, poet, orator and statesman : 
‘* Not here? Oh yes, our hearts their presence feel, 
Viewless, not voiceless, from the deepest shells 
On memory’s shore harmonious echoes steal. 
And names, which in the days gone by were spells, 
Are blent with that soft music. If there dwells 
The spirit here our country’s fame to spread, 
Whilst every breast with joy and triumph swells, 
And earth reveberates to our measured tread, 
Banner and wreath will own our reverence for the dead.” 
