before God. He ordered prayers to be said in the camp every day, at which he assisted in person with singular devotion.

"Even in the heat of battle, when success appeared infallible, and news was brought him of it from all quarters, he used to suppress the joy of the officers, by saying; If God does not support us, and finish his own work, we may still be defeated.'"

This subject, as treated by M. Mascaron, in the funeral oration of M. Turenne.

"Do not imagine that our hero lost those religious sentiments at the head of armies, and in the midst of victories. Certainly, if there is any conjuncture in which the soul, full of itself, is in danger of forgetting God, it is in those illustrious stations where a man becomes as a god to others, by the wisdom of his conduct, the greatness of his courage, the strength of his arm, and the number of his soldiers; and, being wholly inspired with glory, inspires all besides with love, admiration, or terror. Even the externals of war, the sound of trumpets, the glitter of arms, the order of the troops, the silence of the soldiers, their ardor in fight; the

beginning, progress, and end of the victory; the different cries of the conquered and the conquerors; all these assail the soul on different sides, which, deprived of all wisdom and moderation, knows neither God, nor itself. It is then the impious Salmoneus presumes to imitate the thunder of God, and to answer the thunderbolts of Heaven with those of the earth. It was then the sacrilegious Antiochus worshipped nothing but his own strength and courage; and the insolent Pharaoh, swoln with the pride of his power, cried out, I am my own maker. But do religion and humility ever appear more majestic, than when they keep the heart of man, though in so exalted a point of glory, in that submission and dependence which the creature ought to observe with regard to his God?

"M. Turenne was never more sensible that there was a God, than on those extraordinary occasions, when others generally forget their Creator. It was then his prayers were most fervent. We have seen him retiring into woods, where, in the midst of rain, with his knees in the dirt, he adored that God in this humble posture, before whom legions of angels tremble, and prostrate themselves. The Israelites, to

secure themselves of victory, ordered the ark of the covenant to be brought into their camp: and M. Turenne did not believe his could be safe, if not fortified daily by the oblation of the divine victim, who triumphed over all the powers of hell. He assisted at it with a devotion and modesty capable of inspiring awe in those obdurate souls, on whom the sight of the most tremendous mysteries makes no impression.

"Even in the progress of victory itself, and in those moments of self-love, when a general sees fortune declare in his favour, his piety was watchful to prevent his giving the jealous God the least offence, by too hasty an assurance of conquering. Though the cries of victory echoed round him; though the officers flattered themselves and him also with assurance of success; he still checked all the extreme emotions of joy, in which human pride has so great a share, by these words, highly worthy of his piety: If God does not support us, and accomplish his work, we may still be defeated."-ROLLIN.

The modesty of M. Turenne. His private life.

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"No person ever spoke more modestly of

himself than M. Turenne. He related his most surprising victories, as if he had no share in them. At his return from the most glorious campaigns, he avoided praise, and was afraid of appearing in the king's presence, for fear of applause. It was then, in a private state, among a few friends, he exercised himself in the virtues of civil life. He conceals himself, and walks without attendance or equipage: but every one observes and admires him."

This theme extended by Flechier.

"Who ever performed such great exploits, and who more reserved in speaking of them? When he gained an advantage, he himself ascribed it to the enemy's oversight, and not to his own abilities. When he gave an account of a battle, he forgot nothing, but its being gained by his own conduct. If he related any of those actions which had rendered him so famous, one would have concluded he had only been a spectator, and might doubt whether he himself or fame was mistaken. When he returned from those glorious campaigns, which immortalize him, he avoided all acclamations of the people; he blushed at his victories; he

received applauses with the same air that others make apologies, and was almost afraid of waiting upon the king, being obliged, through respect, to hear patiently the encomiums with which his Majesty never failed to honour him.

"It was then, in the calm repose of a private state, that this prince, divesting himself of all the glory he had acquired in the field, and shutting himself up with a small company of chosen friends, practised in silence the virtues of civil life: sincere in his words, plain in his actions, faithful in friendship, exact in duties, regular in his wishes, and great even in the minutest things. He concealed himself; but his fame discovers him. He walks without attendance; but every one images him riding in a triumphal chariot. When people see him, they count the number of the enemies he has conquered, and not the attendants that follow him. Though alone, they conceive him surrounded with his attendant virtues and victories. There is something inexpressibly great and noble in this virtuous simplicity; and the less haughty he is, the more venerable he ap pears."-ROLLin,