plan, and execution of the attack, which was concerted with much talent and judgment. On the night of the 12th September, the troops were embarked in the boats of the squadron, and sent some miles up the river, to deceive the vigilance of the French sentinels, with orders afterwards to drop down, with the rapid current of the river, to a landingplace a mile and a half above the town; the ships appointed to co-operate followed, under the orders of Rear-Admiral Holmes; and the service was so well arranged, that they arrived at the appointed station together. And here we cannot refuse ourselves the pleasure of relating an anecdote which we received. many years ago, at Edinburgh, from an intimate friend of the celebrated Professor Robison, who, in early life, was a midshipman in the royal navy, and happened to be the officer of the boat which conveyed the General to inspect the enemy's positions the night before the assault. The oars were muffled, and a profound silence reigned in the boat, every one being absorbed in anticipations of the approaching conflict. Wolfe, perhaps to rouse his companions from this gloom, began, with his characteristic energy, to repeat to them Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard," which was then but lately published in England. They listened with delight; and, when the recital was finished, the General struck the gunwale of the boat with emphasis, declaring that, highly as he valued the honours they were about to gain on the heights of Abraham, he would willingly forego them all to be the author of that beautiful poem. The instant the troops were on shore they overcame all opposition. The difficulties of ascent were great; the precipice was so steep that not two men could mount abreast by the winding path which led them to the top. The Admiral's narrative states, that the light infantry pulled themselves up by the stumps and boughs of the trees which covered the steep; while the sailors rivalled the zeal of the troops, whom they assisted in aragging the cannon up the heights. The whole succeded in gaining the summit, and imme F diately formed in perfect order. The Marquis de Montcalm, when informed of their success, scarcely credited the report, but hastened with his whole force to meet them. As the French advanced, Wolfe, who confided in his men, instructed them to receive the enemy's fire, and reserve their own till within forty paces, when they poured in a destructive volley, and the battle immediately became general. Both commanders displayed uncommon skill and bravery. They exposed their persons under the hottest fire. The Canadian sharpshooters produced terrible havoc. Wolfe received a ball through his wrist, which he wrapped in a handkerchief, and continued to give his orders with his usual animation. Shortly after another ball through his breast brought him to the ground; and, about the same time, General Moncton, second in command, was shot through the lungs. They were conveyed to the rear, and the command devolved upon General (afterwards Marquis) Townshend. While supported in the arms of his soldiers, Wolfe strove in vain to follow the battle with his eye, for, as the stream of life ebbed away, his sight became dim. An officer exclaimed, "They run! they run !" "Who run?" said the dying hero, as he raised his head for the last time. "The French,” replied the aid-de-camp. "Then God be thanked !" cried Wolfe, "I die contented," and immediately expired. The victory was now complete, but it cost many valuable lives on both sides. Five hundred of Wolfe's brave comrades lay with him dead upon the field, while upwards of 1500 of their opponents were stretched beside them, among whom was the gallant Marquis de Montcalm, and the three French Generals next in command. The citadel of Quebec capitulated upon honourable terms the following day; and, by this conquest, the whole of the French settlements in Canada fell into the possession of the British, and were secured to the crown of England by the succeeding peace of 1763. The loss of a commander so distinguished, at the early age of 32, was lamented by the whole nation, but it is not generally known that he was gradually sinking under an excruciating and incurable disease when he met his fate in the field of battle. His remains being brought to England, were deposited beneath the parish church of Greenwich, by the side of his father, Lieutenant-General Edward Wolfe, whose death preceded that of his heroic son only by a few months. He was born at Westerham, whither his mother had retired, from her residence at Blackheath, after the loss of her husband, It is recorded, that when the whole nation was engaged in celebrating the triumph of Quebec, the inhabitants of his native village forbore from all public rejoicings, in tenderness to a mother's feelings. This lady, at her death, in 1765, bequeathed 500l. to the Widows' College at Bromley. No monument has been erected over the remains of General Wolfe at Greenwich: but a handsome cenotaph was raised to his memory in Westminster Abbey by order of Parliament; a tablet in the church of Westerham bears the following inscription : "JAMES, Son of Colonel EDWARD WOLFE, and HENRIETTA, his Wife, was born in this parish, 2d January, 1727, and died in America, 13th September, 1759, Conqueror of Quebec. "While George in sorrow bows his laurell'd head GIBRALTAR. OUR industrious readers, whose daily occupations afford little time for literary pursuits, may nevertheless find leisure sometimes to look upon a map, and amuse themselves by examining the position which the great nations of the world bear to each other. Those who are familiar with history have great pleasure in such a recreation. While the eye wanders over the boundaries of different countries, the memory calls up a thousand interesting circumstances peculiar to each, and, with a rapid glance, retraces the remarkable transactions which distinguish the places which pass successively under review. The spot which is commemorated by a great battle,--the birthplace of a hero or a philosopher, the ruins of some ancient city of renown, the discoveries of our celebrated navigators, or the track of enterprizing travellers, who have penetrated into obscure regions still unblessed with the light of the Gospel ;-all these are subjects of unfailing interest to the intelligent student of a map. But a personal regard is often mingled with this interest, which greatly augments the pleasure of the observer. He who has traversed any of these distant countries loves once more to travel in imagination along the path he has formerly trodden; he regards with peculiar interest the cities he has visited, the adventures he has encountered, and the dangers he has escaped. If he be not himself a traveller, he will often examine with a lively interest the progress of some parent, friend, or brother, destined to roam in foreign climes; or, with a still deeper anxiety, he will follow the course of some darling child, separated by many a weary league from his country, and his home. These are considerations which give to the study of geography its highest inte rest, and convert a dry detail of lines and names into an inexhaustible source of instruction and delight. When we survey the map of Europe, the long extent of the Mediterranean sea, which separates this quarter of the globe from Africa, powerfully attracts our attention, for its shores are fertile of subjects for deep reflection. The nations which bordered its coast have supplied the most important incidents of history. Christianity first spread her holy light from its eastern extremity, while learning and science attained their highest lustre among the neighbouring nations, at a time when England, now the centre of knowledge and civilization, lay obscured in the darkest ignorance. The Mediterranean is landlocked on every side, excepting one narrow entrance from the Atlantic ocean, which appears to be guarded by two lofty mountains, called by the ancients the Pillars of Hercules, and supposed by many, in those remote times, to be the utmost boundaries of the world. One of these eminences is Gibraltar, a barren rock projecting into the sea from the coast of Spain, with which it is united by a low neck of land. It forms a natural fortress, and art has added to it those defences which now render it almost impregnable. The Rock of Gibraltar rises abruptly from the sea to the height of about 440 yards. It is somewhat more than two miles in length, and nearly one in breadth. The town, which lies at the foot of the mountain, consists of about 500 houses. As the surface of the rock is totally barren, except a few gardens, formed with mould brought from the neighbouring places, the inhabitants obtain all their supplies from Spain, or from the opposite coast of Barbary, distant about twenty miles. A noble bay, capable of containing half the navy of England, stretches towards the west, and is commanded by the fortress, whose guns protect the shipping which lie at anchor in the bay, secure alike from the enemy and the tempest. The importance of Gibraltar as a military position became apparent as soon as Commerce began to spread her sails along the shores of the Mediterranean; and the invention of gunnery pointed it out as a commanding station for batteries to guard the noble anchorage, as well as the strait which renders it the key to this inland ocean. Gibraltar had been previously fortified by the Moors in the eighth century,the name Gibeltarif, or Mount of Tarif, being derived from the Moorish chieftain by whom probably it was first garrisoned. The Moors were expelled in 1462 by the Spaniards, who kept possession of it until the year 1704, when it was captured by a British force |