ree; say that the crimping
captain has your papers and portfolio' (this was true); 'above all, show
him that you have the means of paying him the promised money, and I will
warrant you are set free.' He did as I advised, and when we were put on
the march Mr. Fakenham found means to be allowed to go into hospital,
and while in hospital the matter was arranged as I had recommended.
He had nearly, however, missed his freedom by his own stinginess in
bargaining for it, and never showed the least gratitude towards me his
benefactor.

I am not going to give any romantic narrative of the Seven Years' War.
At the close of it, the Prussian army, so renowned for its disciplined
valour, was officered and under-officered by native Prussians, it is
true; but was composed for the most part of men hired or stolen, like
myself, from almost every nation in Europe. The deserting to and fro
was prodigious. In my regiment (Bulow's) alone before the war, there had
been no less than 600 Frenchmen, and as they marched out of Berlin
for the campaign, one of the fellows had an old fiddle on which he
was flaying a French tune, and his comrades danced almost, rather than
walked, after him, singing, 'Nous allons en France.' Two years after,
when they returned to Berlin, there were only six of these men left; the
rest had fled or were killed in action. The life the private soldier led
was a frightful one to any but men of iron courage and endurance. There
was a corporal to every three men, marching behind them, and pitilessly
using the cane; so much so that it used to be said that in action
there was a front rank of privates and a second rank of sergeants
and corporals to drive them on. Many men would give way to the most
frightful acts of despair under these incessant persecutions and
tortures; and amongst several regiments of the army a horrible practice
had sprung up, which for some time caused the greatest alarm to the
Government. This was a strange frightful custom of CHILD-MURDER. The men
used to say that life was unbearable, that suicide was a crime; in
order to avert which, and to finish with the intolerable misery of their
position, the best plan was to kill a young child, which was innocent,
and therefore secure of heaven, and then to deliver themselves up as
guilty of the murder. The King himself--the hero, sage, and philosopher,
the prince who had always liberality on his lips and who affected a
horror of capital punishments--was fright