England, Holland, and the Empire were opposed to France, Spain, and Bavaria; and the war thus commenced was a memorable contest. Marlborough and Peterborough, than whom England boasts none greater, made her name a word of dread for many years. The knight-errantry of Peterborough conceived schemes which only his ardent and fiery imagination could achieve. He took towns by storm, under circumstances little less than marvellous; he reduced the largest and strongest cities of Europe with a handful of soldiers; he made forced marches, shared the fatigues of his men, and took entire reinforcements prisoners. With 3,000 troops he harassed a regular army, cut off communications, and raised sieges; he forced towns with horse-soldiers, and chivalrously mortgaged his estates to pay the expenses incurred in the cause of his country. The victories of John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, were more important to the nation than those of the adventurous Peterborough; and if his glory was tarnished by the love of gold, yet the name of Marlborough as a captain is unsullied. The battle of Blenheim was his first great achievement in the War of Succession, and it made the people consent to pay the additional taxes imposed upon them. Innumerable trophies,—hundreds of flags and standards, tents, cannon and mortars, casks and barrels filled with the precious metals,—evinced the glory of the contest, and added to the pride of the nation. The thanks of the House were voted to the Duke; medals were struck in his honor; Addison celebrated him in poetry; but dearer far to Marlborough than medal, poetry, or thanks, was the rich manor and the noble mansion of Woodstock, voted to him by the nation. Scarcely had the people recovered from the joy occasioned by the battle of Blenheim, and from the increased taxation which ensued, than another battle—that of Ramilies—seized them with delight. Forgetful of the consequences, men talked of the old days of England,—of the ancient victories of her armies,—of the time when the great Cromwell made the English name terrible,—and, in their excitement, they magnified the grandeur, and diminished the cost. The pride of Louis was indeed humbled. He made proposals for a congress; he tampered with the Dutch; he besought the interposition of the Head of the Church; he offered to cede Spain, Milan, Naples, or Sicily; and felt bitterly the consequences of having provoked the vengeance of the island he hated. Ambition had, however, seized upon the nation; conquest only was thought of; and, remembering the glory of the past, the English people deemed themselves entitled to some privilege for the blood which was shed. They forgot that a new campaign would bring new costs; and they forgot, what their successors yet feel, that every fresh victory brought a fresh loan. Oudenarde, the third of that splendid series of victories which has made the name of Marlborough renowned in the land, was followed by