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FORE:With "The Battle of the Books" appeared "The Tale of a Tub;" and though these were anonymous, it was soon well known that they were from the hand of Jonathan Swift, a friend of Harley and Bolingbroke, who now assumed a position in the public eye destined to be rendered yet more remarkable. Swift was of English parentage, but born in Dublin in 1667. He was educated at Kilkenny and the University of Dublin. In early life he became private secretary to Sir William Temple, and at this time he wrote his "Tale of a Tub," which cut off all his hopes of a bishopric. He edited a selection from the papers of Temple, and then accompanied Lord Berkeley to Ireland as chaplain. Disappointed of the preferment which he had hoped for, he went over from the Whigs to the Tories in 1710, and thenceforward was an unscrupulous adherent of Harley and Bolingbroke, defending all their measures in the "Examiner," and pouring out his vengeance on all opponents with unflinching truculence. In his political[148] character Swift has been styled the great blackguard of the age, and certainly with too much truth. In spite of rare intellectual power, wit, and sarcasm, no principle or tenderness of feeling restrained him in his attacks on his enemies. If Harley and Bolingbroke are guilty of inflicting the disgraceful peace of Utrecht on the nation, simply to avenge themselves on the Whigs, no man so thoroughly abetted them in that business as Swift. His "Conduct of the Allies," his "Public Spirit of the Whigs," and other political tracts and articles, bear testimony to his unscrupulous political rancour. His "Drapier's Letters," and his treatment of Wood in the affair of the Irish halfpence, show that no means, however base and false, came amiss to him in serving the objects of his ambition. The great work of Swift is his "Gulliver's Travels," a work characterised by a massive intellect and a fertile invention, but defiled by the grossness that was inseparable from his mind, and that equally pollutes his poems, in which there is much wit and humour, but not a trace of pathos or tenderness. There is none of that divine glow of love and human sympathy, mingled with the worship of beauty and truth, which courts our affections in the works of the greatest masters. When we are told that Swift's grossness is merely the grossness of the time, we point to "Robinson Crusoe," to "The Seasons" and "Castle of Indolence" of Thomson, and to the works of Addison, for the most admirable contrast. Swiftwho died in the famous year of the '45was one of the most vigorous writers of the age, but he was one of the most unamiable. He was the Mephistopheles of the eighteenth century.On the 10th of September the Prussians began to examine the passes of the forest; and finding them defended, they attacked the French entrenchments but were everywhere repulsed. On the 11th, they concentrated their efforts on the pass of Grand-Pr, defended by Dumouriez himself, and were again repulsed by General Miranda at Mortaume, and by General Stengel at St. Jouvion. The Allies, thus unexpectedly brought to a check, for they had been led by the Emigrants to expect a disorganised or as yet undisciplined army, determined to skirt the forest and endeavour to turn it near Sedan. Whilst engaged in this plan, the Austrians discovered the weakness of the force in the defile of Croix-aux-Bois, where only two battalions and two squadrons of volunteers were posted, for Dumouriez had not examined the pass himself and was assured that this force was amply sufficient. Once aware of this mistake, the Austrians, under the Duke de Ligne, briskly attacked the position and drove the French before them. Dumouriez, informed of this disorder, ordered forward General Chasot with a strong force, who defeated the Austrians, killed De Ligne, and recovered the pass. But the advantage was but momentary; the Austrians returned to the charge with a far superior force, and again cleared the pass and remained in possession of it. Thus Dumouriez saw his grand plan of defence broken up; and finding that Chasot, who had fallen back on Vouziers, was cut off from him on his left along with Dubouquet, he saw the necessity of falling back himself into the rear of Dillon, on his right, who was yet master of the Islettes and the road to St. Menehould. He then sent messages to Chasot, Dubouquet, and to Kellermann, to direct their march so as to meet him at St. Menehould.
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FORE:When Montcalm was informed of this wonderful feat, he thought it merely some new feint to draw him from his lines; but when he had ascertained with his own eyes the truth, he said, "I see them, indeed, where they ought not to be; but, as we must fight, I shall crush them." He immediately led his troops over the bridge of the St. Charles, and up to the eminence above the town. There he found the English already advanced in order of battle to within cannon-shot of Quebec. Wolfe had drawn them up with much judgment. His left wing was formed in what military men call en potencethat is, facing two ways, so as to guard against being outflanked. In this wing, too, he had placed a regiment of Highlanders, one of those which Pitt had formed, and which had already shown its bravery. His right, extending towards the St. Lawrence, had in the van the Grenadiers who had distinguished themselves at the taking of Louisburg, supported by a regiment of the line. Wolfe had taken his post on this wing. The sailors had managed to drag up one cannon, and they had seized four other small guns at the battery they had passed; that was all their artillery. But in this respect Montcalm was no better off, for in his haste he had only brought along with him two guns. He had ordered a cloud of Indians to hover on the left of the English, and had lined the thickets and copses with one thousand five hundred of his best marksmen. These concealed skirmishers fired on the advancing pickets of the English with such effect, that they fell back in confusion; but Wolfe hastened forward, encouraged them to dash on, and ordered the first line to reserve their fire till within forty yards of the enemy. The men well obeyed the order, and marched briskly on without firing a shot, whilst the French came hurrying forward, firing as they came. They killed many of the English, but, as soon as these came within the forty yards' distance, they poured a steady and well-directed a volley into the enemy that did dreadful execution. Wolfe, with characteristic enthusiasm, was in the front line, encouraging them by voice and action, and in less than half an hour the French ranks broke, and many began to fly. Meanwhile Wolfe, exposing himself to the very hottest fire, had been wounded in the wrist by nearly the first discharge; and he had scarcely wrapped his handkerchief around it, when another bullet hit him in the groin. Still appearing to[136] pay no attention to these serious wounds, he was in the act of inciting his men to fresh efforts, when a ball pierced his chest, and he fell. He was carried to the rear, and, whilst he seemed to be in the very agony of death, one of those around him cried, "See how they run!" "Who run?" exclaimed Wolfe, raising himself, with sudden energy, on his elbow. "The enemy," replied the officer; "they give way in all directions." "God be praised!" ejaculated Wolfe; "I die happy!" and, falling back, he expired. Nearly at the same moment Brigadier Monckton was severely wounded, and Brigadier Townshend took the command, and completed the victory. Montcalm, also, had fallen. He was struck by a musket-ball whilst endeavouring to rally his men, and was carried into the city, where he died the next day. When told that he could not live"So much the better," replied this brave and able man; "I shall not then live to see the surrender of Quebec." His second in command was also mortally wounded, and being taken on board the English ships, also died the next day. Of the French, one thousand five hundred had fallen, and six hundred and forty of the English. On the 18th September, five days after the battle, the city capitulated, the garrison marching out with the honours of war, and under engagement to be conveyed to the nearest French port. Other fragments of the defeated army retired to Montreal.
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