Here, then, in the course of eight days, and by four separate attacks, is seen how much can be supported and undertaken in war.  Our troops seem as much dispirited by the frightful condition of the field of battle as by the resistance of the enemy, and for a time the prince sees himself, so to speak, abandoned.  But like a second Maccabee, “his right arm abandons him not, and his courage, inflamed by so many perils, came to his aid.”  No sooner had he been seen on foot the first to scale those inaccessible heights, than his ardor drew the whole army after him.  Merci sees himself lost beyond redemption; his best regiments are defeated; nightfall is the salvation of the remainder of his army.  But a severe rainstorm serves to add to our difficulties and discouragements, so that we have at the same time to contend with not only the highest courage and the perfection of art, but the forces of nature as well.  In spite of the advantage that an enemy, as able as he is bold, takes of these conditions, and the fact that he intrenches himself anew in his impregnable mountains, hard prest on every side, he is forced not only to allow his cannon and baggage to fall a prey to the Duc d’Enghien, but also the country bordering the Rhine.  See how everything is shaken to its foundation:  Philipsburg is in dire distress in ten days, in spite of the winter now close at hand; Philipsburg, which so long held the Rhine captive under our laws, and whose loss the greatest of kings so gloriously retrieved.  Worms, Spire, Mayence, Landau, twenty other places I might name, open their portals:  Merci is unable to defend them, and no longer faces his conqueror.  It is not enough; he must fall at his feet, a worthy victim of his valor.  Nordlingen will witness his overthrow; it will there be admitted that it is no more possible to withstand the French in Germany than in Flanders.  And all these benefits we will owe to this self-same prince.  God, the protector of France and of a king whom He has destined to perform His great works, thus ordains ...

It was not merely for a son nor for his family that he had such tender sentiments:  I have seen him (and do not think that I here speak in terms of exaggeration), I have seen him deeply moved by the perils of his friends.  Simple and natural as he was, I have seen his features betray his emotions at the story of their misfortunes, and he was ever ready to confer with them on the most insignificant details as well as on affairs of the utmost importance.  In the adjustment of quarrels, he was ever ready to soothe turbulent spirits with a patience and good nature that one would little have expected from a disposition so excitable, nor from a character so lofty.  What a contrast to heroes devoid of human sympathy!  Well might the latter command respect and charm the admiration, as do all extraordinary things, but they will not win the heart.  When God fashioned the heart of man and endowed him with human affection, He first of all inspired him with the quality of kindness,