FORE:Buonaparte in Egypt, now cut off from all[471] communication with France, soon found himself threatened by the attack of two Turkish armies, one assembling at Rhodes, and one in Syria. To anticipate this combination, he determined to march into Syria, where he expected to startle the Turks by the progress that he should make there. He therefore commenced his march through the desert at the head of ten thousand men, easily routed a body of Mamelukes, and took the fort of El Arish, reckoned one of the keys of Egypt. He set out in February and, passing the desolate wilderness, not without experiencing some of the sufferings which might be expected, entered Gaza, where he found plenty of provisions. He then attacked Jaffa, the Joppa of the Gospels, carried it, and put three thousand Turks to the sword, giving up the town to licence and plunder and brutally massacring some two thousand prisoners.
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FORE:Hello, buddy, the pilot said, without any show of dismay.
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FORE:The days of Chatham were far nearer their close than was suspected. One more sudden blaze of his high intellect, and he was gone. Whilst the subject of America continued to be discussed in both Houses with much acrimony and little result, the Duke of Richmond, seeing that Chatham did not come forward, took a decided step. He gave notice, on the 7th of April, of an address to the king, entreating him to withdraw both his fleets and armies from the United States, and make peace with them on such terms as should secure their goodwill. Chatham was roused effectually by this notice. Wrapped in flannel, pale and emaciated, he was supported into the House by his son William, and his son-in-law, Lord Mahon. His large wig seemed to bury his worn, shrunken face, except the still piercing eye and the aquiline nose. When the Duke of Richmond had made his motion, and Lord Weymouth, one of the Secretaries of State, had replied to it, Chatham arose. Lord Camden says that in speaking "he was not like himself: his speech faltered, his sentences were broken, and his mind not master of itself. His words were shreds of unconnected eloquence; and flashes of the same fire, which he, Prometheus-like, had stolen from heaven, were then returning to the place whence they were taken." All was deep attention, and even in bosoms antagonistic in principle were profound interest and respect. His words, weak and halting at first, grew, as he warmed with his subject, into much of the power and harmony of former days, and battling with his feebleness of frame he put forth, in one last great effort, the power of his spirit.
At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui
blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores
et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident.
