Though the pay of the Prussian soldier was against himself. The placard had been posted small, though every rixdollar of extraordinary up so high that it was not easy to read it charge was scrutinized by Frederic with a vi- Frederic ordered his attendants to take it down gilance and suspicion such as Mr. Joseph and put it lower. "My people and I," he said, Hume never brought to the examination of an "have come to an agreement which satisfies army-estimate, the expense of such an esta- us both. They are to say what they please, blishment was, for the means of the country, and I am to do what I please." No person enormous. In order that it might not be ut- would have dared to publish in London satires terly ruinous, it was necessary that every other on George II. approaching to the atrocity of expense should be cut down to the lowest pos- those satires on Frederic which the book sible point. Accordingly, Frederic, though his sellers at Berlin sold with impunity. One book. dominions bordered on the sea, had no navy. seller sent to the palace a copy of the most He neither had nor wished to have colonies. stinging lampoon that perhaps was ever writ His judges, his fiscal officers, were meanly ten in the world, the "Memoirs of Voltaire," paid. His ministers at foreign courts walked published by Beaumarchais, and asked for his on foot, or drove shabby old carriages till the majesty's orders. "Do not advertise it an axletrees gave way. Even to his highest diplo- offensive manner," said the king; "but sell it matic agents, who resided at London and Paris, by all means. I hope it will pay you well." he allowed less than a thousand pounds sterling | Even among statesmen accustomed to the a year. The royal household' was managed license of a free press such steadfastness of with a frugality unusual in the establishments mind as this is not very common. of opulent subjects-unexampled in any other It is due also to the memory of Frederic to palace. The king loved good eating and drink- say, that he earnestly laboured to secure to his ing, and during great part of his life took plea-people the great blessing of cheap and speedy sure in seeing his table surrounded by guests; justice. He was one of the first rulers who yet the whole charge of his kitchen was brought abolished the cruel and absurd practice of tor within the sum of two thousand pounds sterling ture. No sentence of death, pronounced by the a year. He examined every extraordinary item ordinary tribunals, was executed without his with a care which might be thought to suit the sanction; and his sanction, except in cases of mistress of a boarding-house better than a murder, was rarely given. Towards his troops great prince. When more than four rixdollars he acted in a very different manner. Military were asked of him for a hundred oysters, he offences were punished with such barbarous stormed as if he had heard that one of his ge- scourging, that to be shot was considered by nerals had sold a fortress to the Empress the Prussian soldier as a secondary punish Queen. Not a bottle of champagne was un- ment. Indeed, the principle which pervaded corked without his express order. The game Frederic's whole policy was this-that the of the royal parks and forests, a serious head more severely the army is governed, the safer of expenditure in most kingdoms, was to him it is to treat the rest of the community with a source of profit. The whole was farmed lenity. out; and though the farmers were almost ruined by their contract, the king would grant them no remission. His wardrobe consisted of one fine gala dress, which lasted him all his life; of two or three old coats fit for Monmouth street, of yellow waistcoats soiled with snuff, and of huge boots embrowned by time. One taste alone sometimes allured him beyond the limits of parsimony, nay, even beyond the limits of prudence-the taste for building. In all other things his economy was such as we might call by a harsher name, if we did not reflect that his funds were drawn from a heavily taxed people, and that it was impossible for him, without excessive tyranny, to keep up at once a formidable army and a splendid court.

Religious persecution was unknown under his government-unless some foolish and unjust restrictions which lay upon the Jews may be regarded as forming an exception. His policy with respect to the Catholics of Silesia presented an honourable contrast to the policy which, under very similar circumstances, Eng land long followed with respect to the Catholics of Ireland. Every form of religion and irreli gion found an asylum in his states. The scoffer whom the Parliaments of France had sentenced to a cruel death, was consoled by a commission in the Prussian service. The Jesuit who could show his face nowhere elsewho in Britain was still subject to penal laws, who was proscribed by France, Spain, Portygal, and Naples, who had been given up even by the Vatican-found safety and the means of subsistence in the Prussian dominions.

Considered as an administrator, Frederic had undoubtedly many titles to praise. Order was strictly maintained throughout his domi- Most of the vices of Frederic's administra nions. Property was secure. A great liberty tion resolve themselves into one vice-the of speaking and of writing was allowed. Con- spirit of meddling. The indefatigable activity fident in the irresistible strength derived from of his intellect, his dicta'orial temper, his mili a great army, the king looked down on male- tary habits, all inclined him to this great fault contents and libellers with a wise disdain; and He drilled his people as he drilled his grena gave litte encouragement to spies and inform-diers. Capital and industry were diverted from ers. When he was told of the disaffection of their natural direction by a crowd of prepos one of his subjects, he merely asked, "How many thousand men can he bring into the field?" He once saw a crowd staring at something on a wall. He rede up, and found that he object of curiosity was a scurrilous placard

terous regulations. There was a monopoly of coffee, a monopoly of tobacco, a monopoly of refined sugar. The public money, of which the king was generally so sparing, was lavishly spent in ploughing bogs, in planting mulberry

trees amidst the sand, in bringing sheep from government; and perhaps more light is thrown Spain to improve the Saxon wool, in bestowing on his character by what passed during his prizes for fine yarn, in building manufactories hours of relaxation than by his battles or his of porcelain, manufactories of carpets, manu- laws. factories of hardware, manufactories of lace. Neither the experience of other rulers, nor his own, could ever teach him that something more than an edict and a grant of public money is required to create a Lyons, a Brussels, or a Birmingham.

It was the just boast of Schiller, that in his country no Augustus, no Lorenzo, had watched over the infancy of art. The rich and energetic language of Luther, driven by the Latin from the schools of pedants, and by the French from the palaces of kings, had taken refuge among the people. Of the powers of that language Frederic had no notion. He generally spoke of it, and of those who used it, with the contempt of ignorance. His library consisted of French books; at his table nothing was heard but French conversation.

For his commercial policy, however, there 's some excuse. He had on his side illustrious examples and popular prejudice. Grievously as he erred, he erred in company with his age. In other departments his meddling was altogether without apology. He interfered with the course of justice as well as with the course The associates of his hours of relaxation of trade; and set up his own crude notions of were, for the most part, foreigners. Britain equity against the law as expounded by the furnished to the royal circle two distinguished unanimous voice of the gravest magistrates. men, born in the highest rank, and driven by It never occurred to him that a body of men, civil dissensions from the land to which, under whose lives were passed in adjudicating on happier circumstances, their talents and vir questions of civil right, were more likely to tues might have been a source of strength and form correct opinions on such questions than glory. George Keith, Earl Marischal of Scota prince whose attention was divided between land, had taken arms for the house of Stuart in a thousand objects, and who had probably 1715, and his younger brother James, then only never read a law-book through. The resistance seventeen years old, had fought gallantly by opposed to him by the tribunals inflamed him his side. When all was lost they retired to to fury. He reviled his Chancellor. He the Continent, roved from country to country, kicked the shins of his Judges. He did not, it served under many standards, and so bore is true, intend to act unjustly. He firmly be- themselves as to win the respect and good-will lieved that he was doing right, and defending of many who had no love for the Jacobite the cause of the poor against the wealthy. Yet cause. Their long wanderings terminated at this well-meant meddling probably did far more Potsdam; nor had Frederic any associates who harm than all the explosions of his evil pas- deserved or obtained so large a share of his sions during the whole of his long reign. We esteem. They were not only accomplished could make shift to live under a debauchee or men, but nobles and warriors, capable of serv a tyrant; but to be ruled by a busy-body is ing him in war and diplomacy, as well as of more than human nature can bear. amusing him at supper. Alone of all his comThe same passion for directing and regulat-panions they appear never to have had reason ing appeared in every part of the king's to complain of his demeanour towards them. policy. Every lad of a certain station in life Some of those who knew the palace best prowas forced to go to certain schools within the nounced that the Lord Marischal was the Prussian dominions. If a young Prussian re- only human being whom Frederic ever really paired, though but for a few weeks, to Leyden loved. or Gottingen for the purpose of study, the of Italy sent to the parties at Potsdam the infence was punished with civil disabilities, and genious and amiable Algarotti, and Bastiani, Sometimes with confiscation of property. No- the most crafty, cautious, and servile of Abbés. body was to travel without the royal permission. But the greater part of the society which FreIf the permission were granted, the pocket- deric had assembled round him, was drawn money of the tourist was fixed by royal ordi- from France. Maupertuis had acquired some nances. A merchant might take with him two celebrity by the journey which he made to Laphundred and fifty rixdollars in gold, a noble land, for the purpose of ascertaining, by actual was allowed to take four hundred; for it may measurement, the shape of our planet. He be observed, in passing, that Frederic studi- was placed in the chair of the Academy of ously kept up the old distinction between the Berlin, a humble imitation of the renowned nobies and the community. In speculation, he academy of Paris. Baculard D'Arnaud, a was a French philosopher; but in action, a young poet, who was thought to have given German prince. He talked and wrote about promise of great things, had been induced to the privileges of blood in the style of Sieyes; quit his country, and to reside at the Prussian but in practice no chapter in the empire look-court. The Marquess D'Argens was among ed with a keener eye to genealogies and quarterings.

the king's favourite companions, on account, as it should seem, of the strong opposition be. tween their characters. The parts of D'Argens were good, and his manners those of finished French gentleman; but his whole sout was dissolved in sloth, timidity, and self-indul gence. His was one of that abject class of minds which are superstitious without being religious. Hating Christianity with a rancour which made him incapable of rational inquiry

unable to see in the harmony and beauty of the universe the traces of divine power and wisdom, he was the slave of dreams and omens; -would not sit down to the table with thirteen in company; turned pale if the salt fell to wards him; begged his guests not to cross their knives and forks on their plates; and would not for the world commence a journey on Friday. His health was a subject of constant anxiety to him. Whenever his head ached, or his pulse beat quick, his dastardly fears and effeminate precautions were the jest of all Berlin. All this suited the king's purpose admirably. He wanted somebody by whom he might be amused, and whom he might despise. When he wished to pass half an hour in easy polished conversation, D'Argens was an excellent companion; when he wanted to vent his spleen and contempt, D'Argens was an excellent butt.

Frederic had a keen eye for the foibles cf others, and loved to communicate his discover. ies. He had some talent for sarcasm, and considerable skill in detecting the sore places where sarcasm would be most actually felt. His vanity, as well as his malignity, found gratification in the vexation and confusion of those who smarted under his caustic jests. Yet in truth his success on these occasions belonged quite as much to the king as to the wit. We read that Commodus descended, sword in hand, into the arena against a wretched gladiator, armed only with a foil of lead, and, after shedding the blood of the helpless victim, struck medals to commemorate the inglorious victory. The triumphs of Frederic in the war of repartee were much of the same kind. How to deal with him was the most puzzling of questions. To appear constrained in his presence was to disobey his commands, and to spoil his amusement. Yet if his asso ciates were enticed by his graciousness to indulge in the familiarity of a cordial intimacy, he was certain to make them repent of their presumption by some cruel humiliation. To resent his affronts was perilous; yet not to resent them was to deserve and to invite them. In his view, those who mutinied were insolent and ungrateful; those who submitted, were curs made to receive bones and kickings with the same fawning patience. It is, indeed, difficult to conceive how any thing short of the rage of hunger should have induced men to bear the misery of being the associates of the Great King. It was no lucrative post. His majesty was as severe and economical in his friendships as in the other charges of his esta blishment, and as unlikely to give a rixdollar

The sum which he allowed to a poet or a philosopher, was the very smallest sum for which such poet or philosopher could be induced to sell himself into slavery; and the bondsman might think himself fortunate, if what had been so grudgingly given was not, after years of suf fering, rudely and arbitrarily withdrawn.

With these associates, and others of the same class, Frederic loved to spend the time which he could steal from public cares. He wished his supper-parties to be gay and easy; and invited his guests to lay aside all restraint, and to forget that he was at the head of a hundred and sixty thousand soldiers, and was absolute master of the life and liberty of all who sat at meat with him. There was, therefore, at these meetings the outward show of ease. The wit and learning of the company were ostentatiously displayed. The discussions on history and literature were often highly interesting. But the absurdity of all the religions known among men was the chief topic of conversation; and the audacity with which doctrines and names venerated throughout Christendom were treated on these occasions, startled even persons accustomed to the society of French and English free-think-too much for his guests as for his dinners. ers. But real liberty, or real affection, was in this brilliant society not to be found. Absolute kings seldom have friends: and Frederic's faults were such as, even where perfect equality exists, make friendship exceedingly precarious. He had indeed many qualities, which, on a first acquaintance, were captivating. His conversation was lively; his manners to those Potsdam was, in truth, what it was called by whom he desired to please were even caress- one of its most illustrious inmates, the Palace ing. No man could flatter with more delicacy. of Alcina. At the first glance it seemed to be No man succeeded more completely in inspir- a delightful spot, where every intellectual and ing those who approached him with vague physical enjoyment awaited the happy ad Lopes of some great advantage from his kind-venturer. ness. But under this fair exterior he was a tyrant-suspicious, disdainful, and malevolent. He had one taste which may be pardoned in a boy, but which, when habitually and deliberately indulged in a man of mature age and strong understanding, is almost invariably the sign of a bad heart-a taste for severe practicai jokes. If a friend of the king was fond of dress, oil was flung over his richest suit. If he was fond of money, some prank was invented to make him disburse more than he could spare. If he was hypochondrical, he was made to believe he had the dropsy. If he particularly set his heart on visiting a place, a letter was forged to frighten him from going thither. These things, it may be said, are trifles. They are so; but they are indications, not to be mistaken, of a nature to which the sight of human suffering and human degradation is an agreeable excitement.

Every new comer was received with eager hospitality, intoxicated with flattery, encouraged to expect prosperity and greatness. It was in vain that a long succession of fa vourites who had entered that abode with de light and hope, and who, after a short term of delusive happiness, had been doomed to ex piate their folly by years of wretchedness and degradation, raised their voices to warn the aspirant who approached the charmed thresh old. Some had wisdom enough to discover the truth early, and spirit enough to fly without looking back; others lingered on to a cheerless and unhonoured old age. We have no hesi tation in saying that the poorest author of that time in London, sleeping on a bulk, dining in a cellar, with a cravat of paper, and a skewer for a shirt-pin, was a happier man than any of the literary inmates of Frederic's court But of all who entered the enchanted garden

plause. Of this execrable piece it is sufficient to say, that the plot turns on a love affair, carried on in all the forms of Scudery, between Catiline, whose confidant is the Prætor Lentu lus, and Tullia, the daughter of Cicero. The theatre resounded with acclamations. The king pensioned the successful poet; and the coffee-houses pronounced that Voltaire was a clever man, but that the real tragic inspiration, the celestial fire which glowed in Corneille and Racine was to be found in Crébillon alone.

The blow went to Voltaire's heart. Had his wisdom and fortitude been in proportion to the fertility of his intellect, and to the brilliancy of his wit, he would have seen that it was out of the power of all the puffers and detractors in Europe to put Catiline above Zaire; but he had none of the magnanimous patience with which Milton and Bentley left their claims to the unerring judgment of time. He eagerly engaged in an undignified competition with Crébillon, and produced a series of plays on the same subjects which his rival had treated. These pieces were coolly received. Angry with the court, angry with the capital, Voltaire began to find pleasure in the prospect of exile. His attachment for Madame de Châtelet long prevented him from executing his purpose Her death set him at liberty; and he determined to take refuge at Berlin.

in the inebriation of delight and quitted it in agonies of rage and shame, the most remarkable was Voltaire. Many circumstances had made him desirous of finding a home at a distance from his country. His fame had raised him up enemies. His sensibility gave them a formidable advantage over him. They were, indeed, contemptible assailants. Of all that they wrote against him, nothing has survived except what he has himself preserved. But the constitution of his mind resembled the constitution of those bodies in which the slightest scratch of a bramble, or the bite of a gnat, never fails to fester. Though his reputation was rather raised than lowered by the abuse of such writers as Fréron and Desfontainesthough the vengeance which he took on Fréron and Desfontaines was such, that scourging, branding, pillorying, would have been a trifle to it-there is reason to believe that they gave him far more pain than he ever gave them. Though he enjoyed during his own lifetime the reputation of a classic-though he was extolled by his contemporaries above all poets, phi.osophers, and historians-though his works were read with as much delight and admiration at Moscow and Westminster, at Florence and Stockholm, as at Paris itself, he was yet tormented by that restless jealousy which should seem to belong only to minds burning with the desire of fame, and yet conscious of impotence. To men of letters who could by no possibility To Berlin he was invited by a series of letbe his rivals, he was, if they behaved well to ters, couched in terms of the most enthusiastic him, not merely just, not merely courteous, but friendship and admiration. For once the rigid often a hearty friend and a munificent bene- parsimony of Frederic seemed to have relaxed. factor. But to every writer who rose to a Orders, honourable offices, a liberal pension, a celebrity approaching his own, he became well-served table, stately apartments under a either a disguised or an avowed enemy. He royal roof, were offered in return for the pleaslyly depreciated Montesquieu and Buffon. He sure and honour which were expected from publicly, and with violent outrage, made war the society of the first wit of the age. A thouon Jean Jacques. Nor had he the art of hiding sand louis were remitted for the charges of his feelings under the semblance of good-hu- the journey. No ambassador setting out from mour or of contempt. With all his great ta- Berlin for a court of the first rank, had ever lents, and all his long experience of the world, been more amply supplied. But Voltaire was he had no more self-command than a petted not satisfied. At a later period, when he poschild or an hysterical woman. Whenever he sessed an ample fortune, he was one of the was mortified, he exhausted the whole rhetoric most liberal of men; but till his means had of anger and sorrow to express his mortifica- become equal to his wishes, his greediness for tion. His torrents of bitter words-his stamp- lucre was unrestrained either by justice or by ing and cursing-his grimaces and his tears shame. He had the effrontery to ask for a of rage-were a rich feast to those abject na- thousand louis more, in order to enable him to tures, whose delight is in the agonies of pow- bring his niece, Madame Denis, the ugliest of erful spirits and in the abasement of immortal coquettes, in his company. The indelicate names. These creatures had now found out rapacity of the poet produced its natural effect a way of galling him to the very quick. In on the severe and frugal king. The answer one walk, at least, it had been admitted by envy was a dry refusal. "I did not," said his maitself that he was without a living competitor. jesty, "solicit the honour of the lady's society." Since Racine had been laid among the great On this, Voltaire went off into a paroxysm of men whose dust made the holy precinct of childish rage. "Was there ever such avarice! Port-Royal holier, no tragic poet had appeared He has hundred of tubs full of dollars in his who could contest the palm with the author of vaults, and haggles with me about a poor thouZaire, of Alzire, and of Merope. At length a sand louis." It seemed that the negotiation rival was announced. Old Crébillon, who, would be broken off; but Frederic, with great many years before, had obtained some theatri- dexterity, affected indifference, and seemed cal success, and who had long been forgotten, inclined to transfer his idolatry to Baculard came forth frora his garret in one of the mean-d'Arnaud. His majesty even wrote some bad est lanes near the Rue St. Antoine, and was verses, of which the sense was, that Voltaire welcomed by the acclamations of envious men was a setting sun, and that Arnaud was rising of letters, and of a capricious populace. A Good-natured friends soon carried the lines to thing called Catiline, which he had written in Voltaire. He was in his bed. He jumped out his retirement, was acted with boundless ap-in his shirt, danced about the room with rage,

and sent for his passport and his post-horses. more humiliating fact, that Voltaire indemni It was not difficult to foresee the end of a connection which had such a beginning.

fied himself by pocketing the wax-candles in the royal antechamber. Disputes about money, however, were not the most serious dis putes of these extraordinary associates. The sarcasms soon galled the sensitive temper of the poet. D'Arnaud and D'Argens, Guichard and La Métrie, might, for the sake of a morsel of bread, be willing to bear the insolence of a

He knew that he was a potentate as well as Frederic; that his European reputation, and his incomparable power of covering whatever he hated with ridicule, made him an object of dread even to the leaders of armies and the rulers of nations. In truth, of all the intellectual weapons which have ever been wielded by man, the most terrible was the mockery of Voltaire. Bigots and tyrants, who had never been moved by the wailing and cursing of millions, turned pale at his name. Principles unassailable by reason, principles which had withstood the fiercest attacks of power, the most valuable truths, the most generous senu

It was in the year 1750 that Voltaire left the great capital, which he was not to see again till, after the lapse of nearly thirty years, he returned, bowed down by extreme old age, to die in the midst of a splendid and ghastly triumph. His reception in Prussia was such as might well have elated a less vain and excit-master; but Voltaire was of another order. able mind. He wrote to his friends at Paris, that the kindness and the attention with which he had been welcomed surpassed description -that the king was the most amiable of menthat Potsdam was the Paradise of philosophers. | He was created chamberlain, and received, together with his gold key, the cross of an order, and a patent ensuring to him a pension of eight hundred pounds sterling a year for life. A hundred and sixty pounds a year were promised to his niece if she survived him. The royal cooks and coachmen were put at his disposal. He was lodged in the same apartments in which Saxe had lived, when, at the height of power and glory, he visited Prussia. Fre-ments, the noblest and most graceful images, deric, indeed, stooped for a time even to use the language of adulation. He pressed to his lips the meager hand of the little grinning skeleton, whom he regarded as the dispenser of immortal renown. He would add, he said, to the titles which he owed to his ancestors and his sword, another title, derived from his last and proudest acquisition. His style should run thus:-Frederic, King of Prussia, Margrave of Brandenburg, Sovereign Duke of Silesia, Possessor of Voltaire. But even amidst the delights of the honey-moon, Voltaire's sensitive vanity began to take alarm. A few days after his arrival, he could not help telling his We cannot pause to recount how often that niece, that the amiable king had a trick of rare talent was exercised against rivals worthy giving a sly scratch with one hand while pat-of esteem-how often it was used to crush and ting and stroking with the other. Soon came hints not the less alarming because mysterious. "The supper parties are delicious. The king is the life of the company. But I have operas and comedies, reviews and concerts, my studies and books. But-but-Berlin is fine, the princess charming, the maids of honour handsome. But”

This eccentric friendship was fast cooling. Never had there met two persons so exquisitely fitted to plague each other. Each of them nad exactly the fault of which the other was most impatient; and they were, in different ways, the most impatien: of mankind. Frederic was frugal, almost niggardly. When he had secured his plaything, he began to think that he had bought it too dear. Voltaire, on the other hand, was greedy, even to the extent of impudence and knavery; and conceived that the favourite of a monarch, who had barrels full of gold and silver laid up in cellars, ought to make a fortune which a receivergeneral might envy. They soon discovered each other's feelings. Both were angry, and a war began, in which Frederic stooped to the part of Harpagon, and Voltaire to that of Scapit.. It is humiliating to relate, that the great warrior and statesman gave orders that his guest's allowance of sugar and chocolate should be curtailed. It is, if possible, a still

the purest reputations, the most august institu
tions, began to look mean and loathsome as
soon as that withering smile was turned upon
them. To every opponent, however strong in
his cause and his talents, in his station and his
character, who ventured to encounter the great
scoffer, might be addressed the caution which
was given of old to the Archangel:-

"I forewarn thee, shun
His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope
To be invulnerable in those bright arms,
Though temper'd heavenly; for that fatal dint,
Save Him who reigns above, pone can resist."

torture enemies worthy only of silent disdain— how often it was perverted to the more noxious purpose of destroying the last solace of earthly misery, and the last restraint on earthly power. Neither can we pause to tell how often it was used to vindicate justice, humanity, and tolera tion-the principles of sound philosophy, the principles of free government. This is not the place for a full character of Voltaire.

Causes of quarrel multiplied fast. Voltaire, who, partly from love of money, and partly from love of excitement, was always fond of stockjobbing, became implicated in transac tions of at least a dubious character. The king was delighted at having such an oppor tunity to humble his guest; and bitter re proaches and complaints were exchanged. Voltaire, too, was soon at war with the other men of letters who surrounded the king; and this irritated Frederic, who, however, had himself chiefly to blame: for, from that love of tormenting which was in him a ruling passion, he perpetually lavished extravagant praises on small men and bad books, merely in order that he might enjoy the mortification and rage which on such occasions Voltaire took no pains to conceal. His majesty, however, soon had reason to regret the pains which he had taken to kindle jealousy among the members of his household. The whole palace was in a