ength of the army after the Points of Levi and
Orleans are left in a proper state of defence), to draw the enemy from
their present situation and bring them to an action. I have acquiesced
in the proposal, and we are preparing to put it into execution." The
letter ends thus: "By the list of disabled officers, many of whom are of
rank, you may perceive that the army is much weakened. By the nature of
the river, the most formidable part of this armament is deprived of the
power of acting; yet we have almost the whole force of Canada to oppose.
In this situation there is such a choice of difficulties that I own
myself at a loss how to determine. The affairs of Great Britain, I know,
require the most vigorous measures; but the courage of a handful of
brave troops should be exerted only when there is some hope of a
favorable event; however, you may be assured that the small part of the
campaign which remains shall be employed, as far as I am able, for the
honor of His Majesty and the interest of the nation, in which I am sure
of being well seconded by the Admiral and by the generals; happy if our
efforts here can contribute to the success of His Majesty's arms in any
other parts of America."

Some days later, he wrote to the Earl of Holdernesse: "The Marquis of
Montcalm has a numerous body of armed men (I cannot call it an army),
and the strongest country perhaps in the world. Our fleet blocks up the
river above and below the town, but can give no manner of aid in an
attack upon the Canadian army. We are now here [_off Cap-Rouge_] with
about thirty-six hundred men, waiting to attack them when and wherever
they can best be got at. I am so far recovered as to do business; but my
constitution is entirely ruined, without the consolation of doing any
considerable service to the state, and without any prospect of it." He
had just learned, through the letter brought from Amherst by Ensign
Hutchins, that he could expect no help from that quarter.

Perhaps he was as near despair as his undaunted nature was capable of
being. In his present state of body and mind he was a hero without the
light and cheer of heroism. He flattered himself with no illusions, but
saw the worst and faced it all. He seems to have been entirely without
excitement. The languor of disease, the desperation of the chances, and
the greatness of the stake may have wrought to tranquillize him. His
energy was doubly tasked: to bear up his own sinking frame, and to
a