Winterfeld, who hates the French, who despises the Austrians, and
thinks the Prussian Army a considerable Fact in Politics, has great
schemes: far too great for a practical Friedrich. "Plunge into the
Austrians with a will: Prussian Soldiery,--can Austrians resist it?
Ruin them, since they are bent on ruining us. Stir up the Hungarian
Protestants; try all things. Home upon our implacable enemies,
sword drawn, scabbard flung away! And the French,--what are the
French? Our King should be Kaiser of Teutschland; and he can, and
he may:--the French would then be quieter!" These things Winterfeld
carried in his head; and comrades have heard them from him over
wine. [Retzow, i. 43, &c.] To all which Friedrich, if any whisper
of them ever got to Friedrich, would answer one can guess how.

It is evident, Friedrich had not given up his hope (indeed, for
above a year more, he never did) that England might, by profuse
bribery,--"such the power of bribery in that mad court!"--assuage,
overnet with backstairs packthreads, or in some way compesce the
Russian delirium for him. And England, his sole Ally in the world,
still tender of Austria, and unable to believe what the full
intentions of Austria are; England demands much wariness in his
procedures towards Austria; reiterating always, "Wait, your
Majesty! Oh, beware!"--

His own Army, we need not say, is in perfect preparation. The Army
--let us guess, 150,000 regular, or near 200,000 of all arms and
kinds [Archenholtz (i, 8) counts vaguely "160,000" at this date.]--
never was so perfect before or since. Old Captains in it, whom we
used to know, are grayer and wiser; young, whom we heard less of,
are grown veterans of trust. Schwerin, much a Cincinnatus since we
last saw him, has laid down his plough again, a fervid "little