"You as a follower of Epicurus
put a value upon life; as for me, I regard death from the Stoic
point of view. I have told you, and I repeat it, never shall my
hand sign a humiliating peace. Finish this campaign I will,
resolved to dare all, to succeed, or find a glorious end." Then
came the victory of Torgau, the last and one of the most
desperate of his battles: a success dearly bought, and bringing
neither rest nor safety. Once more he wrote to D'Argens:
"Adieu, dear Marquis; write to me sometimes. Don't forget a
poor devil who curses his fatal existence ten times a day."
"I live like a military monk. Endless business, and a little consolation
from my books. I don't know if I shall outlive this war, but if I do
I am firmly resolved to pass the rest of my life in solitude in the
bosom of philosophy and friendship. Your nation, you see, is blinder
than you thought. These fools will lose their Canada and Pondicherry
to please the Queen of Hungary and the Czarina."
The campaign of 1761 was mainly defensive on the part of
Frederic. In the exhaustion of his resources he could see no
means of continuing the struggle. "It is only Fortune," says
the royal sceptic, "that can extricate me from the situation
I am in. I escape out of it by looking at the universe on the
great scale like an observer from some distant planet. All then
seems to be so infinitely small that I could almost pity my
enemies for giving themselves so much trouble about so very
little.
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