3. FURSTENWALDE, 21st AUGUST.... "The enemy is intrenching himself near
Frankfurt; a sign he intends no attempt. If you will do me the pleasure
to come out hither, you can in all safety. Bring your bed with you;
bring my Cook Noel; and I will have you a little chamber ready. You will
be my consolation and my hope."--

This day,--let readers mark the circumstance,--Friedrich, in better
spirits, detaches Wunsch with some poor 6,000, to try if he can be of
help in Saxony; where the Reichs Army, now arrived in force, and with
nothing whatever in the field against them, is taking all the Northward
Garrison-Towns, and otherwise proceeding at a high rate. Too possibly
with an eye towards Dresden itself! Wunsch sets out August 21st.
[Tempelhof, iii. 211.] And we shall hear of him in those Saxon Countries
before long.

4. FURSTENWALDE, 22d AUGUST. "Yesterday I wrote to you to come; but
to-day I forbid it. Daun is at Kotbus; he is marching on Luben and
Berlin [nothing like so rash!].--Fly these unhappy Countries!--This news
obliges me again to attack the Russians between here and Frankfurt. You
may imagine if this is a desperate resolution. It is the sole hope that
remains to me, of not being cut off from Berlin on the one side or the
other. I will give the discouraged troops some brandy"--alas!--"but I
promise myself nothing of success. My one consolation is, that I shall
die sword in hand."

5. SAME PLACE AND DAY (after a Letter FROM D'Argens). "You make the
panegyric, MON CHER, of an Army that does not deserve any. The soldiers
had good limbs to run with, none to attack the enemy. [Alas, your
Majesty; after fifteen hours of such marching and fighting!]

"For certain I will fight; but don't flatter yourself about the event. A
happy chance alone can help us. Go, in God's name, to Tangermunde [since
the Royal Family went, D'Argens and many Berliners are thinking of
flight], to Tangermunde, where you will be well; and wait there how
Destiny shall have disposed of us. I will go to reconnoitre the enemy
to-morrow. Next day, if there is anything to do, we will try it. But if
the enemy still holds to the Wine-Hills of Frankfurt, I shall never dare
to attack him.

"No, the torment of Tantalus, the pains of Prometheus, the doom of
Sisyphus, were nothing like what I suffer for the last ten days [from
Kunersdorf till now, when destruction has to be warded off again, and
the force wanting]. Death is sweet in comparison to such a lif