inces, the utmost that he could
expect was apathy. From the Silesian Catholics he could hardly expect
anything but resistance.

Some states have been enabled, by their geographical position, to defend
themselves with advantage against immense force. The sea has repeatedly
protected England against the fury of the whole Continent. The Venetian
government, driven from its possessions on the land, could still bid
defiance to the confederates of Cambray from the Arsenal amidst the
lagoons. More than one great and well-appointed army, which regarded the
shepherds of Switzerland as an easy prey, has perished in the passes of
the Alps. Frederic had no such advantage. The form of his states, their
situation, the nature of the ground, all were against him. His long,
scattered, straggling territory seemed to have been shaped with an
express view to the convenience of invaders, and was protected by no
sea, by no chain of hills. Scarcely any corner of it was a week's march
from the territory of the enemy. The capital itself, in the event of
war, would be constantly exposed to insult. In truth there was hardly a
politician or a soldier in Europe who doubted that the conflict would be
terminated in a very few days by the prostration of the House of
Brandenburg.

Nor was Frederic's own opinion very different. He anticipated nothing
short of his own ruin, and of the ruin of his family. Yet there was
still a chance, a slender chance, of escape. His states had at least the
advantage of a central position; his enemies were widely separated from
each other, and could not conveniently unite their overwhelming forces
on one point. They inhabited different climates, and it was probable
that the season of the year which would be best suited to the military
operations of one portion of the league would be unfavorable to those of
another portion. The Prussian monarchy, too, was free from some
infirmities which were found in empires far more extensive and
magnificent. Its effective strength for a desperate struggle was not to
be measured merely by the number of square miles or the number of
people. In that spare but well-knit and well-exercised body there was
nothing but sinew, and muscle, and bone. No public creditors looked for
dividends. No distant colonies required defence. No court, filled with
flatterers and mistresses, devoured the pay of fifty battalions. The
Prussian army, though far inferior in number to the troops which were
about to