was not again heard
of that day.

In about half an hour that bit of work was over; and Seidlitz, with
his ranks trimmed again, had drawn himself southward a little, into the
Hollow of Tageswerben, there to wait impending phenomena. For Friedrich
with the Infantry is now emerging over Janus Hill, in a highly
thunderous manner,--eighteen pieces of artillery going, and "four big
guns taken from the walls of Leipzig;" and there will be events anon.
It is said, Hildburghausen, at the first glimpse of Friedrich over
the hill-top, whispered to Soubise, "We are lost, Royal
Highness!"--"Courage!" Soubise would answer; and both, let us hope, did
their utmost in this extremely bad predicament they had got into.

Friedrich's artillery goes at a murderous rate; had come in view, over
the hill-top, before Seidlitz ended,--"nothing but, the muzzles of
it visible" (and the fire-torrents from it) to us poor French below.
Friedrich's lines; or rather his one line, mere tip of his left
wing,--only seven battalions in it, five of them under Keith from the
second or reserve line; whole centre and right wing standing "refused"
in oblique rank, invisible, BEHIND the Hill,--Friedrich's line, we say,
the artillery to its right, shoots out in mysterious Prussian rhythm,
in echelons, in potences, obliquely down the Janus-Hill side; straight,
rigid, regular as iron clock-work; and strides towards us, silent,
with the lightning sleeping in it:--Friedrich has got the flank of
Dauphiness, and means to keep it. Once and again and a third time, poor
Soubise, with his poor regiments much in an imbroglio, here heaped on
one another, there with wide gaps, halt being so sudden,--attempts
to recover the flank, and pushes out this regiment and the other,
rightward, to be even with Friedrich. But sees with despair that it
cannot be; that Friedrich with his echelons, potences and mysterious
Prussian resources, pulls himself out like the pieces of a
prospect-glass, piece after piece, hopelessly fast and seemingly no
end to them; and that the flank is lost, and that--Unhappy Generals of
Dauphiness, what a phenomenon for them! A terrible Friedrich, not fled
to Merseburg at all; but mounted there on the Janus Hill, as on his
saddle-horse, with face quite the other way;--and for holster-pistol,
has plucked out twenty-two cannon. Clad verily in fire; Chimera-like,
RIDING the Janus Hill, in that manner; left leg (or wing) of him
spurning us into the abysses, right