him, and partitioning him (how far from it!), there is no
conceivable method of saving the Celestial Balances till HE be
satisfied, in some way. This is the one step his Britannic Majesty
has yet made, out of these his choking imbroglios; and truly this
is one. Hyndford, his best negotiator, is on the road for
Friedrich's Camp; Robinson at Vienna, has been directed to say and
insist, "Bargain with that man; he must be bargained with, if our
Cause of Liberty is to be saved at all?"--

And now, having opened the dust-bin so far, that the reader's fancy
might be stirred without affliction to his lungs and eyes, let us
shut it down again,--might we but hope forever! That is too fond a
hope. But the background or sustaining element made imaginable,
the few events deserving memory may surely go on at a much
swifter pace.



Chapter II.

CAMP OF STREHLEN.

Friedrich's Silesian Camps this Summer, Camp of Strehlen chiefly,
were among the strangest places in the world. Friedrich, as we have
often noticed, did not much pursue the defeated Austrians, at or
near Mollwitz, or press them towards flat ruin in their Silesian
business: it is clear he anxiously wished a bargain without farther
exasperation; and hoped he might get it by judicious patience.
Brieg he took, with that fine outburst of bombardment, which did
not last a week: but Brieg once his, he fell quiet again; kept