covered a little cove at the foot of the heights which ascended to these plains. From this cove, where boats could be run in, he thought the heights could be scaled. On a quiet, moonless evening in September, the army crossed noislessly in small boats, and under cover of night began the ascent. They were obliged to catch at projecting rocks, twigs, and roots of trees, to pull themselves up. Of all their artillery they could only get up one small cannon. How they ever dragged even that up, it is difficult to imagine.

On the way across the river, in the silent night, Wolfe, lying in his boat, wrapped in a cloak, murmured softly to himself some verses of Gray's "Elegy," and when he had finished, said, “I would rather have written that poem than take Quebec."

In the morning when the French were awake, they saw something stirring out on the Plains of Abraham. They rubbed their eyes in wonder. It could not be possible! They could not believe their senses. And yet it really was the English army.

Montcalm was in Quebec, and on finding that the enemy were indeed on the plains, he went to meet them with his whole force. A severe battle began. Wolfe was wounded twice, but still fought heroically. As he led on his men in a final attack, he was struck in the side and fell with a deadly wound. At this moment he heard the cry, "They run! They run!" "Who run?" he asked eagerly. "The French!" "Go," he cried, "cut off the retreat of the fugitives to the bridge." Then sinking back into the arms of his attendants, he said, "I die in peace," and breathed his last breath.

Montcalm was also killed in this battle, which was a fatal one for the French. With the taking of Quebec, they knew that their power was broken in America. Almost at the same time of the taking of Quebec, came news that Sir William Johnson had taken Fort Niagara which was the only place of consequence, except Montreal, left to the French in their whole line from Louisburg to Duquesne.

Now the people in Boston and New York rang their bells and shouted and hurrahed. The boys built bonfires, and everybody in the English cause was delighted at the approach of peace. The French governor went down to Montreal, and concentrated his forces there, but it was no use. They were obliged to confess themselves beaten. This was in 1759, and peace would have been declared at once if the English government had not felt so elated over their success that they carried the war down into some of the West India islands owned by the French, and conquered those. In

1762 peace was at last made between France and England. France had to give up all her possessions in Canada to the English, and all her claim to America, except the tract known as Louisiana. I have already told you what a large tract that was, a good many times larger than the present State of Louisiana.

To pay Spain for helping her in the war, they then were obliged to give Spain the Louisiana country, and thus France lost her last claim to North America. Canada has ever since belonged to the English. Yet there are still many traces of the early French colony there. If you go to Quebec or Montreal, you will find that these towns are largely French. In the streets, stores, and markets you will hear almost as much French as English;

and you will see the Jesuit priests in their long black robes, mingling with English soldiers in the streets. Outside the walls, on the green Plains of Abraham, is a granite monument with the simple inscription, "Here lies Wolfe, victorious."

The fortress in Quebec is still very strong, much stronger than when Wolfe took it, and

General Wolfe.

there is always a large garrison there. The English are not afraid of the French any more. They cannot retake Quebec, but there is another great nation on her borders, against whom she would think it more necessary to keep Quebec guarded. Can you guess what nation it is? I am going to tell you directly how there came to be this new nation in America. Only I wish first to take you among the thirteen colonies, and see in what condition they find themselves after this last French war.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A TOUR IN AMERICA.

1760. Dress of Lady and Gentleman. - Thanksgiving in Spinners.. By Stage-coach to New Haven. -- New York New Year's Day. - Up

Sailing for Boston. - Boston in New England. - Irish Flax Harbor. - A Dutch Interior. Drive through New York City. the Hudson to Albany. Journey through New Jersey. How Philadelphia Streets were named. The Great State-house Bell. Account of Benjamin Franklin. - Plantations in Virginia. Christmas Festivities. - A Group of Noble Virginians. - Cotton Crop of Eliza Lucas.

WELL, French rule is over in North America, and the English colonists breathe freely. They have always been afraid that those

dreadful" Jesuits and Papists" would get control of affairs here, and they are very happy at having the dread removed. But this happiness is to be brief. In less than fifteen years these colonies, who are now rejoicing in the victory of their "dear mothercountry over that abominable nation of France, will be struggling to wrest their liberties from England, as men struggle from the grasp of their deadly enemy. There is a cloud now on their sky no bigger than a man's hand, which has in it all the thunder of rebellion. As yet, however, they do not see the cloud, and while they take a resting and breathing spell after the long war, you and I will go on a journey over these thirteen colonies, visit some of the largest cities, and see how these people are getting on.

Can you go back in imagination to the year 1760, and fancy yourself an English boy or girl about to take ship for his majesty's colonies in North America? You cannot go there in a steamship, you know. There are no steamships, no steam-engines, no means of traveling by steam. Just about this time, a man in England, named James Watt, is experimenting with steam, to see what can be done with it, but people generally have very little confidence that his labors will amount to anything.

So we will leave England in a sailing vessel, and shall be five or six weeks on the voyage, landing at last, very dirty and travel-worn, in the harbor at Boston, the largest town in New England. This city is now one hundred and thirty years old, and is really quite a stirring metropolis. As we come up the harbor, we can see the English flag flying from the public buildings, and we know we are under the protection of English law, and the rule of an English governor.

The city, as you see, is built upon three hills, and already some fine looking houses are scattered about. Rather irregularly, however, for this city was not carefully laid out when first settled, like Philadelphia or the new town of Savannah in Georgia. There are from 16,000 to 20,000 people in the city, and the spires of ten churches rise from among the clustering houses of brick and wood.

That fine house of brick, three stories high, belongs to Governor Hutchinson, the lieutenant-governor and chief-justice of the colony. If we enter the house, we shall find a large hall with massive staircase heavily carved, the floor laid in elegant mosaic of different woods. In the parlors the walls are painted in fresco, fluted columns supporting the ceiling, and heavy mahogany furniture is set round in stately grandeur. There are many houses in Boston which rival

Governor Hutchinson's in magnificence, and these things show a great improvement in arts and manufactures since the time the colonists first landed at Plymouth. Another fine house is the Province House. It stands on the principal street, a stately pile of brick, with the king's arms, handsomely gilded, put over the entrance. It has a little garden-plot in front, in which are a few trees. A cupola surmounts it, with the figure of an Indian on top, made of bronze.

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A little farther down is the court-house, which is thought quite a grand building; and still farther on is Peter Faneuil's new structure, Faneuil Hall, the most imposing in the town. Near the courthouse is the "South Meeting-house," and at the other end of the town, on Copp's Hill, stands the "North Meeting-house.' King's Chapel is the Episcopal church, and here the king's officers, who are nearly all stanch churchmen, attend worship.

Across Charles River, in the town of Cambridge, stands Harvard College, a flourishing university, almost as old as the town itself. There many of the rising young men of Massachusetts have graduated, among whom are Mr. John Adams and Mr. John Hancock of Braintree, who have both just left its walls.

Dress has also changed very much since the time of James I. and Charles II. The Puritans could not be called "Roundheads" any

more. They wear great powdered wigs when they go out in full dress, or else powder their own hair, and tie it behind in a long queue. Do you see that gentleman standing in his door taking a sniff of morning air before he goes out to walk? It is one of the prominent citizens. He has on a red velvet cap, with an inside cap of white linen which turns over the edge of the velvet two or three inches; a blue damask dressing-gown lined with sky-blue silk; a white satin waistcoat, with deep embroidered flaps; black satin breeches with long white silk stockings, and red morocco slippers. When he goes out into the street he will change his velvet cap for a three-cornered hat; his flowered brocade for a gold-laced coat of red or blue broadcloth, with deep lace ruffles at the wrists; put a sword at his side, and wear a pair of shoes with great silver or gold buckles. Then he will be a well-dressed gentleman of the eighteenth century. If he were a very young man, and a good deal of a dandy, his toilet would be more elaborate. His shirt front would be trimmed with fine lace, with a great brooch stuck in it, his breeches of green or red velvet, or white, lilac, or blue satin, and his morocco shoes would have diamond buckles.

The lady in the next house, who is going to a dinner party, sat three hours under the barber's hands to get her hair done in that amazing mass of frizzles and puffs and rolls, one upon the other, till it looks like a Pyramid or the Tower of Babel. She has on a brocade dress, green ground with great flowered sprigs on it, looped up over a pink satin petticoat. It is very low in the neck, with a lace stomacher, and is very tightly pulled over a stiff hoop which sticks out so on both sides that she has to go in at the door sideways. The heels of her shoes are very high, and she wears beautiful white silk stockings. Do you think her tastefully dressed? At home she