ld gives opportunity, to pick a quarrel with
Friedrich, and overwhelm and partition him, according to covenant: This,
wandering through endless mazes of detail, is in sum what the Menzel
Documents disclose to Friedrich and us. How, in a space of ten years,
the small seed-grain of a Treaty of Warsaw, or Treaty of Petersburg,
planted and nourished in that manner, in the Satan's Invisible World,
has grown into a mighty Tree there,--prophetic of Facts near at hand;
which were extremely sanguinary to the Human Race for the next Seven
Years.

This is the sum-total: but for Friedrich's sake, and to illustrate
the situation, let us take a few glances more, into the then Satan's
Invisible World, which had become so ominously busy round Friedrich and
others. The Czarina, we say, was got to engage; 22d May, 1746, there
came a Treaty of Petersburg duly valid, which is that of Warsaw under a
new name: and still Bruhl durst not, for above a year coming,--not till
August 15th, 1747; [MEMOIRE RAISONNE (in _Gesammelte Nachrichten _), i.
459.] and then, only in a hypothetic half-and-half way, with fear and
trembling, though with hunger unspeakable, in sight of the viands. A
very wretched Bruhl, as seen in these Menzel Documents. On poor Polish
Majesty Bruhl has played the sorcerer, this long while, and ridden him
as he would an enchanted quadruped, in a shameful manner: but how, in
turn (as we study Menzel), is Bruhl himself hagridden, hunted by his
own devils, and leads such a ghastly phantasmal existence yonder, in
the Valley of the Shadow of CLOTHES,--mere Clothes, metaphorical and
literal! ["MONTREZ-MOI DES VERTUS, PAS DES CULOTTES (Have you no virtues
then to show me; nothing but pain of breeches)!" exclaimed an impatient
French Traveller, led about in Bruhl's Palace one day: Archenholtz,
_Geschichte des Siebenjahrigen Krieges,_ i. 63.] Wretched Bruhl,
agitated with hatreds of a rather infernal nature, and with terrors of
a not celestial, comes out on our sympathies, as a dog almost
pitiable,--were that possible, with twelve tailors sewing for him, and a
Saxony getting shoved over the precipices by him.

A famishing dog in the most singular situation. What he dare do, he
does, and with such a will. But there is almost only one thing safe to
him: that of egging on the Czarina against Friedrich; of coining lies to
kindle Czarish Majesty; of wafting on every wind rumors to that end, and
continually besieging with them the empty Czaris