iron Destinies,
and the stern refuge of Death with honor: Dialogues evidently symbolical
only. In fact, this is not, or is not altogether, the King's common
humor. He has his two Nephews with him (the elder, old enough to learn
soldiering, is to be of next Campaign under him); he is not without
society when he likes,--never without employment whether he like or
not; and, in the blackest murk of despondencies, has his Turk and other
Illusions, which seem to be brighter this Year than ever. [LETTERS to
Henri: in SCHONING, iii. (SOEPIUS).]

For certain, the King is making all preparation, as if victory might
still crown him: though of practical hope he, doubtless often enough,
has little or none. England seems about deserting him; a most sad and
unexpected change has befallen there: great Pitt thrown out; perverse
small Butes come in, whose notions and procedures differ far from
Pitt's! At home here, the Russians are in Pommern and the Neumark;
Austrians have Saxony, all but a poor strip beyond the Mulda; Silesia,
all but a fraction on the Oder: Friedrich has with himself 30,000; with
Prince Henri, 25,000; under Eugen of Wurtemberg, against the Swedes,
5,000; in all his Dominions, 60,000 fighting men. To make head against
so many enemies, he calculates that 60,000 more must be raised this
Winter. And where are these to come from; England and its help having
also fallen into such dubiety? Next Year, it is calculated by everybody,
Friedrich himself hardly excepted (in bad moments), must be the finis
of this long agonistic tragedy. On the other hand, Austria herself is in
sore difficulties as to cash; discharges 20,000 men,--trusting she may
have enough besides to finish Friedrich. France is bankrupt, starving,
passionate for Peace; English Bute nothing like so ill to treat with
as Pitt: to Austria no more subsidies from France. The War is waxing
feeble, not on Friedrich's side only, like a flame short of fuel. This
Year it must go out; Austria will have to kill Friedrich this Year, if
at all.

Whether Austria's and the world's prophecy would have been fulfilled?
Nobody can say what miraculous sudden shifts, and outbursts of fiery
enterprise, may still lie in this man. Friedrich is difficult to kill,
grows terribly elastic when you compress him into a corner. Or Destiny,
perhaps, may have tried him sufficiently; and be satisfied? Destiny does
send him a wonderful star-of-day, bursting out on the sudden, as will
be seen!--M