calm in his intrenchments at Beauport. Meeting at Moncton's quarters, they wisely and unanimously gave their opinions against them all, and advised him to carry four or five thousand men above the town, and thus draw Montcalm from his impregnable situation to an open action. Wolfe consented to this proposal; and, with despair in his breast, yet as one conscious that he lived under the eyes of Pitt and of his country, he prepared to carry it into effect. Attended by the admiral he once more examined the citadel, with a view to a general assault. Although every one of the five passages from the upper to the lower town was carefully intrenched, Saunders was willing to join in any hazard for the public service; but said Wolfe, "I could not propose to him an undertaking so dangerous in its nature and promising so little success.

He would have the whole force of Canada to oppose, and, by the nature of the river, the fleet could render no assistance. On the 2d of September, he wrote to Pitt:

"In this situation, there is such a choice of difficulties, that I am myself at a loss how to determine. The affairs of Great Britain require the most vigorous measures; but then the courage of a handful of brave men should be exerted only where there is some hope."

The despatch was read by Pitt with dismay, and he dreaded to hear further tidings.

Wolfe did not despair, however. Securing the posts on the isles of Orleans and opposite Quebec, he marched, with the army, on the fifth and sixth of September, from Point Levi, to which place he had transferred all the troops from Montmorenci ; and embarked them in transports that had passed the town for the purpose. On the three following days, Admiral Holmes, with the ships, ascended the river to amuse De Bougainville, who had been sent the north shore to watch the movements of the British army and prevent a landing. New France began to feel that the worst dangers of the campaign were over. De Levi, the second officer in command, was sent to protect Montreal, with a detachment, it was said, of three thousand men. The short summer was over, and they knew the British fleet must soon withdraw from the river, which would soon be packed with ice.

up

Wolfe applied himself intently to reconnoitring the north shore above Quebec. Nature had given him good eyes, as well as warmth of temper to follow first impressions. He himself discovered the cove which now bears his name, where the bending promontories almost form a basin, with a very narrow margin, over which the hill abruptly rises. He saw the path that wound up the steep,

though so narrow that two men could hardly march abreast; and he knew by the number of tents which he counted on the summit, that the Canadian post which guarded it could not exceed a hundred. Here he resolved to land his army by surprise. To mislead the enemy his troops were kept far above the town; while Saunders, as if an attack were intended at Beauport, set Cook, the great mariner, with others to sound the water and plant buoys along that shore.

All the day and night of the twelfth were employed in preparations. The autumn evening was dark; but the general visited his stations to make his final inspection and utter his last words of encouragement. As he passed from ship to ship, he spoke to those in the boat with him of the poet Gray and the "Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Wolfe, who was a great lover of poetry, remarked:

"I would prefer being the author of that poem to the glory of beating the French to-morrow ;' then, as the boat glided in silence through the darkness, he repeated:

"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,

Await alike the inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

The last order had been issued, the last word of encouragement uttered, and when, at one o'clock in

the morning of the thirteenth of September, Wolfe, Moncton and Murray, with about half the forces, set off in boats and, using neither sail nor oars, glided down with the tide, every officer knew his appointed duty. Silence pervaded the flotilla, and it was a thrilling moment. The night was intensely dark; but the ships followed and reached the cove just in time to cover the landing. Wolfe and his troops with him leaped on the shore. Of the ascent to the plains of Abraham, perhaps there has never been written a more graphic account than the following, which we extract from the letter Noah Stevens wrote to his wife:

"I was with the light infantry and Americans in the first boats, and we were borne by the current a little below the path which we were to ascend. However, we effected a landing on a narrow strip of stony beach beneath the steep cliff. It was so dark, I could scarcely see my hand before me, nor did I know whether my own men were about me or the British regulars. Some one who was at my side said:

แ "We can scale the cliff.'

“Then I gave the command to the men, who slung their muskets on their backs and began to climb from one jutting crag to another, staying themselves by the roots and boughs of the mapie, spruce and ash trees that covered the precipitous

declivity. The night was cloudy, not a star appeared, nor could I see the men at my side. I thought I was first to start up the steep; but ere long my head struck against the heel of a soldier above me, and I knew that some one was in advance. At the same time, some one at my feet was pressing me upward, while on each side men. were ascending. Only the deep-drawn breath, the scrambling of feet, the loosening of earth and crackling of roots and bushes could be heard. Not a word was uttered. I need not deny that I had a We knew nothing of the cliff At any moment, the men

dread of the result. we were ascending. above might lose their hold and come tumbling down upon us, we in turn fall upon those below, until the whole regiment fell senseless and bleeding at the bottom of the bluff, but not a man lost his hold, though we moved rapidly, yet carefully. At every second I dreaded, expected and at the same time longed to hear the reports of guns, which would tell us that the top of the cliff was reached and the enemy struck. It seemed hours-it seemed an age climbing up the cliff in the darkness. Then I heard voices. They were Canadians speaking in French. They evidently hailed some one, and next moment I distinctly heard the report of a musket. It was followed by three or four more. The soldiers, hastening up the narrow path, struck