Without a particle of cant or fanaticism, he had become a deeply religious man.  Hitherto he had been only a man of the world and a statesman, but from this time forth he began calmly to rely upon God’s providence in all the emergencies of his eventful life.  His letters written to his most confidential friends, to be read only by themselves, and which have been gazed upon by no other eyes until after the lapse of nearly three centuries, abundantly prove his sincere and simple trust.  This sentiment was not assumed for effect to delude others, but cherished as a secret support for himself.  His religion was not a cloak to his designs, but a consolation in his disasters.  In his letter of instruction to his most confidential agent, John Bazius, while he declared himself frankly in favor of the Protestant principles, he expressed his extreme repugnance to the persecution of Catholics.  “Should we obtain power over any city or cities,” he wrote, “let the communities of papists be as much respected and protected as possible.  Let them be overcome, not by violence, but with gentle-mindedness and virtuous treatment.”  After the terrible disaster at Jemmingen, he had written to Louis, consoling him, in the most affectionate language, for the unfortunate result of his campaign.  Not a word of reproach escaped from him, although his brother had conducted the operations in Friesland, after the battle of Heiliger Lee, in a manner quite contrary to his own advice.  He had counselled against a battle, and had foretold a defeat; but after the battle had been fought and a crushing defeat sustained, his language breathed only unwavering submission to the will of God, and continued confidence in his own courage.  “You may be well assured, my brother,” he wrote, “that I have never felt anything more keenly than the pitiable misfortune which has happened to you, for many reasons which you can easily imagine.  Moreover, it hinders us much in the levy which we are making, and has greatly chilled the hearts of those who otherwise would have been ready to give us assistance.  Nevertheless, since it has thus pleased God, it is necessary to have patience and to lose not courage; conforming ourselves to His divine will, as for my part I have determined to do in everything which may happen, still proceeding onward in our work with his Almighty aid.  ‘Soevis tranquillus in undis’, he was never more placid than when the storm was wildest and the night darkest.  He drew his consolations and refreshed his courage at the never-failing fountains of Divine mercy.

“I go to-morrow,” he wrote to the unworthy Anne of Saxony; “but when I shall return, or when I shall see you, I cannot, on my honor, tell you with certainty.  I have resolved to place myself in the hands of the Almighty, that he may guide me whither it is His good pleasure that I should go.  I see well enough that I am destined to pass this life in misery and labor, with which I am well content, since it thus pleases the Omnipotent, for I know that I have merited still greater chastisement.  I only implore Him graciously to send me strength to endure with patience.”