elf with that
weapon which he knew so well how to wield. In his poem of "La Loi
naturelle" he drew a bitter but truthful portrait of Frederick which
must have made that arbitrary gentleman wince. He was, says the poet,--

"Of incongruities a monstrous pile,
Calling men brothers, crushing them the while;
With air humane, a misanthropic brute;
Ofttimes impulsive, sometimes over-'cute;
Weak 'midst his choler, modest in his pride;
Yearning for virtue, lust personified;
Statesman and author, of the slippery crew;
My patron, pupil, persecutor too."

_SCENES FROM THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR._

[Illustration: SANS SOUCI, PALACE OF FREDERICK THE GREAT.]

The story of Frederick the Great is a story of incessant wars, wars
against frightful odds, for all Europe was combined against him, and for
seven years the Austrians, the French, the Russians, and the Swedes
surrounded his realm, with the bitter determination to crush him, if not
to annihilate the Prussian kingdom. England alone was on his side.
Russia had joined the coalition through anger of the Empress Elizabeth
at Frederick's satire upon her licentious life; France had joined it
through hostility to England; Austria had organized it from indignation
at Frederick's lawless seizure of Silesia; the army raised to operate
against Prussia numbered several hundred thousand men.

For years Frederick fought them all single-handed, with a persistence,
an energy, and a resolute rising under the weight of defeat that
compelled the admiration even of his enemies, and in the end gave him
victory over them all. To the rigid discipline of his troops, his own
military genius, and his indomitable perseverance, he owed his final
success and his well-earned epithet of "The Great."

The story of battle, stirring as it is, is apt to grow monotonous, and
we have perhaps inflicted too many battle scenes already upon our
readers, though we have selected only such as had some particular
feature of interest to enliven them. Out of Frederick's numerous battles
we may be able to present some examples sufficiently diverse from the
ordinary to render them worthy of classification, under the title of the
romance of history.

Let us go back to the 5th of November, 1757. On that date the army of
Frederick lay in the vicinity of Rossbach, on the Saale, then occupied
by a powerful French army. The Prussian commander, after vainly
endeavoring to bring the Austrians to battle, had turn