General Braddock's defeat in July, 1755. Taken all in all, the Pittsburgh of to-day is one of the most interesting places on this continent. The watery forks of our great Y compress the growing city until its crowded streets are prolonged eastwardly, while in the angles of our symbol are found the "South Side" of the city proper, the sister city of Allegheny, and the busy, thriving suburbs. To the latter the careworn Pittsburgher flees when his daily duties end, glad to escape for the time the all-pervading soot and smoke. Up the two rivers that are nearing their end, and down the new-born stream, the hills and vales are covered with thriving settlements, all integral parts of one busy whole, and combining to form virtually but a single community of a quarter of a million souls. Topographically its varied surface is not its least charm. Mountain and bluff, stream and ravine, have until recently defied the skill of the engineer and of the street-maker. That liberality and pluck have

triumphed is evident to any of our readers journeying Pittsburghward, who will patronize the nerve-trying "inclines" that scale the bold cliffs of Coal Hill, and view the tripartite valley from the summit. It is a view that will repay a very long journey. Eye and ear must long bear witness to the eloquence of the sights and sounds enjoyed, and it is doubtful whether any equal area in this broad republic would so forcibly suggest to the stranger what is meant by a busy, energetic, and wealthy manufacturing city.