If wars really must be made, I do hope that we shall fall back upon the old system of carrying on military operations in summer.

When the thermometer is below zero, I feel like Bob Acres--all my valour oozing out at my fingers' ends.

The doctors tell me that many slight wounds have gangrened owing to the cold.

When a battle lasts until evening the mass of the wounded cannot be picked up until the next morning, and their sufferings during the night must be terrible.

I saw several poor fellows picked up who appeared literally frozen.
The _Journal Officiel_ of to-day contains a letter from Monseigneur Bauer, protesting against the Prussians having shot at him when he went forward with a flag of truce and a trompette.