or the greatness of the danger that it averted. The strife that armed
all the civilized world began here. "Such was the complication of
political interests," says Voltaire, "that a cannon-shot fired in
America could give the signal that set Europe in a blaze." Not quite. It
was not a cannon-shot, but a volley from the hunting-pieces of a few
backwoodsmen, commanded by a Virginian youth, George Washington.

To us of this day, the result of the American part of the war seems a
foregone conclusion. It was far from being so; and very far from being
so regarded by our forefathers. The numerical superiority of the British
colonies was offset by organic weaknesses fatal to vigorous and united
action. Nor at the outset did they, or the mother-country, aim at
conquering Canada, but only at pushing back her boundaries.
Canada--using the name in its restricted sense--was a position of great
strength; and even when her dependencies were overcome, she could hold
her own against forces far superior. Armies could reach her only by
three routes,--the Lower St. Lawrence on the east, the Upper St.
Lawrence on the west, and Lake Champlain on the south. The first access
was guarded by a fortress almost impregnable by nature, and the second
by a long chain of dangerous rapids; while the third offered a series of
points easy to defend. During this same war, Frederic of Prussia held
his ground triumphantly against greater odds, though his kingdom was
open on all sides to attack.

It was the fatuity of Louis XV. and his Pompadour that made the conquest
of Canada possible. Had they not broken the traditionary policy of
France, allied themselves to Austria, her ancient enemy, and plunged
needlessly into the European war, the whole force of the kingdom would
have been turned, from the first, to the humbling of England and the
defence of the French colonies. The French soldiers left dead on