“Stop there, I beg of you,” said he, bursting into a fit of laughter. “I must really cry halt now. So long as you live, my dear friend, let nothing induce you to repeat that worn cant, 'Fight for their Emperor!' Why, they fought as bravely for Turenne, and Villars, and Maréchal Saxe; they were as full of courage under Moreau, and Kleber, and Desaix, and Hoche; ay, and will be again when the Emperor is no more, and Heaven knows who stands in his place. The genius of a French army is fighting, not for gain, nor plunder, nor even for glory, so much as for fighting itself; and he is the best man who gives them most of it. What reduced the reckless hordes of the Revolution to habits of discipline and obedience but the warlike spirit of their leaders, whose bravery they respected? And think you Napoleon himself does not feel this in his heart, and know the necessity of continual war to feed the insatiable appetite of his followers? In a word, my friend,” added he, in a tone of mock solemnity, “we are a great people; and Nature intended us to be so by giving us a language in which _Gloire_ rhymes with _Victoire_. And now for the march, for I fancy we are late enough already.” There are few sources of annoyance more poignant than to discover any illusion we have long indulged in assailed by the sneers and sarcasms of another, who assumes a tone of superior wisdom on the faith of a difference of opinion. The mass of our likings and dislikings find their way into our heart more from impulse than reason, and when attacked are scarcely defensible by any effort of the understanding. This very fact renders us more painfully alive to their preservation, and we shrink instinctively from any discussion of them. While such is the case, we feel more bitterly the cruelty of him who, out of mere wantonness, can sport with the sources of our happiness, and assail the hidden stores of so many of our pleasures; for unhappily the mockery once listened to lies associated with the idea forever. Already had Duchesne stripped me of more than one delusion, and made me feel that I was but indulging in a deceptive happiness in my dream of life; and often did I regret that I ever knew him. It is not enough to feel the sophistry of one's adversary, you should be able to detect and expose it, otherwise the triumphant tone he assumes gives him an air of victory which ends by imposing on yourself. And of this I now felt convinced in my own case.