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.  I read a great deal, I devour my books.  But for them I think hypochondria would have had me in Bedlam before now.  In fine, dear Marquis, we live in troublous times and desperate situations.  I have all the properties of a stage hero; always in danger, always on the point of perishing."[861] And in another mood:  “I begin to feel that, as the Italians say, revenge is a pleasure for the gods.  My philosophy is worn out by suffering.  I am no saint, and I will own that I should die content if only I could first inflict a part of the misery that I endure.”

[Footnote 861:  The above extracts are as translated by Carlyle in his History of Frederick II. of Prussia.]

While Frederic was fighting for life and crown, an event took place in England that was to have great influence on the war.  Walpole recounts it thus, writing to George Montagu on the twenty-fifth of October, 1760:  “My man Harry tells me all the amusing news.  He first told me of the late Prince of Wales’s death, and to-day of the King’s; so I must tell you all I know of departed majesty.  He went to bed well last night, rose at six this morning as usual, looked, I suppose, if all his money was in his purse, and called for his chocolate.  A little after seven he went into the closet; the German valet-de-chambre heard a noise, listened, heard something like a groan, ran in, and found the hero of Oudenarde and Dettingen on the floor with a gash on his right temple by falling against the corner of a bureau.  He tried to speak, could not, and expired.  The great ventricle of the heart had burst.  What an enviable death!”

The old King was succeeded by his grandson, George III., a mirror of domestic virtues, conscientious, obstinate, narrow.  His accession produced political changes that had been preparing for some time.  His grandfather was German at heart, loved his Continental kingdom of Hanover, and was eager for all measures that looked to its defence and preservation.  Pitt, too, had of late vigorously supported the Continental war, saying that he would conquer America in Germany.  Thus with different views the King and the Minister had concurred in the same measures.  But George III. was English by birth, language, and inclination.  His ruling passion was the establishment and increase of his own authority.  He disliked Pitt, the representative of the people.  He was at heart averse to a war, the continuance of which would make the Great Commoner