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him in the breast. He reeled to one side; but at the moment it was not generally observed.

"Support me," said he to a grenadier officer who was close at hand, "that my brave fellows may not see me fall." In a few seconds, however, he sunk to the ground, and was borne a little to the rear.

The brief struggle fell heavily upon the British, but was ruinous to the French. They wavered under the carnage; the columns which death had disordered were soon broken and scattered. Montcalm, with a courage that rose above the wreck of hope, galloped through the groups of his stubborn veterans, who still made head against the enemy, and strove to show a front of battle. His efforts were vain. The head of every formation was swept away before that terrible musketry. In а few minutes the French gave way in all directions. Just then their gallant general fell with a mortal wound; from that time all was utter rout.

While the British troops were carrying all before them, their young general's life was ebbing fast away. From time to time he tried, with his faint hand, to clear away the death-mist that gathered before his sight; but the efforts seemed vain, for presently he lay back, and gave no signs of life beyond a heavy breathing and an occasional groan.

Meantime the French had given way, and were flying in all directions. A grenadier officer seeing this, called out to those around him, "See! they run!" The words caught the ear of the dying man. He raised himself, like one aroused from sleep, and eagerly asked, "Who run?" "The enemy, sir," answered the officer; "they give way every-where.”

"Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton," said Wolfe;

"tell him to march Webbe's regiment with all speed down to the St. Charles River, to cut off the retreat." His voice grew faint as he spoke, and he turned on his side, as if seeking an easier position. When he had given this last order, his eyes closed in death.

Wolfe's body was embalmed, and borne to the river for conveyance to England. The army escorted it in solemn state to the beach. They mourned their young general's death as sincerely as they had followed him in battle bravely.

WARBURTON.

Biography.-William Warburton (1698-1779), commonly known as Bishop Warburton, was a distinguished English divine, whose services to the literature of his time are universally admitted.

Notes. Heraldry in the lesson means "proud name," or "old and titled family," since heraldry is the science that relates to deciphering the meaning of the various devices and designs used as emblems by the old and titled families in kingdoms.

"God be praised! I die happy," according to another authority, were Wolfe's last words.

Elocution. - Pronounce in a whisper the following lines, as an exercise in articulation

"In a few minutes, however, the rustling of the trees close at hand alarmed the French guard."

Point out the words that are most difficult to pronounce in the first sentence of the second paragraph. Whisper them.

Language. - Explain the difference in meaning of the following words-chief, commander, leader, general.

Compose a sentence in which any one of them could be correctly used; and then, if possible, compose two sentences in which the words can not be interchanged.

Select from the lesson two words which are synonymous.

Composition. -In considering the question of merit in regard

to a composition, we may ask the following questions

1. Does the treatment bear altogether upon the subject?

2. Is the treatment complete?

3. Is the language in keeping with the subject?

[graphic][subsumed]

"God be praised! I die happy." (See page

484.)

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS

L

97. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD.

ǎn'them, church music adapted to passages from the Scriptures. çîr' eum seribed', bounded;

limited.

eon' tem plā'tion, reflection; musing.

ig nō'ble, mean; base.

měl'an eşŏl' y, grief; gloom.

ĕp'i tǎph (ěp′ĭ tăf), a writing on a tombstone in memory of the dead.

in gen' ū qus, noble; frank. jŎe' und, merrily.

im pute, charge; attribute. pregnant, teeming; filled. un făth'omed, unmeasured.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea;
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds,—

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower

The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient, solitary reign.

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a moldering heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid,

The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,

The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,

No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.

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