——Nunc et campus, et areæLenesque sub noctem susurri,Composita repetantur hora.
——Nunc et campus, et areæLenesque sub noctem susurri,Composita repetantur hora.
——Nunc et campus, et areæ
Lenesque sub noctem susurri,
Composita repetantur hora.
Berlin.
Nothing surprised me more, when I first came to Berlin, than the freedom with which the people spoke of the measures of government, and the conduct of the King. I have heard political topics, and others which I should have thought still more ticklish, discussed here with as little ceremony as at a London coffee-house. The same freedom appears in the booksellers’ shops, where literary productions of all kinds are sold openly. The pamphlet lately published on the division of Poland, wherein the King is very roughly treated, is to be had without difficulty, as well as other performances, which attack some of the most conspicuous characters with all the bitterness of satire.
A government, supported by an army of 180,000 men, may safely disregard the criticisms of a few speculative politicians, and the pen of the satirist. While his Majesty retains the power of disposing of the lives and properties of his subjects as his wisdom shall direct, he allows them the most perfect freedom to amuse themselves with as many remarks or jokes on his conduct as they please.
The mind of this monarch is infinitely superior to that gossiping disposition, by which the despicable race of whisperers and retailers of scandal thrive at some courts. Convinced that the same perfidy, which can betray a real conversation, may invent a false one, he listens to no little, malicious tales of what has passed in private companies, or during the hours of convivial mirth. Any person who should attempt to repeat anecdotes of this kind to him, would be driven from his presencewith disgrace. He treats with equal contempt all anonymous letters, and every kind of injurious information, when the informer declines appearing openly in support of his assertions.
This great Prince is so perfectly devoid of suspicion and personal fear, that he resides at Sans-Souci without any guard whatever. An orderly serjeant, or corporal only, attends there in the day-time to carry occasional orders to the garrison at Potsdam, whither he always returns in the evening. In this house, where the King sleeps every night, there are not above ten or a dozen persons, the servants included. When you recollect that Sans-Souci is a solitary mansion, about half a league from Potsdam, where all the guards are shut up, and therefore could be of no manner of use, in case of any attempt on the King’s person during the night; when you consider that he, who lies thus defencelessand exposed, is a despotic monarch, who governs by the dictates of his own will and understanding, without minding the ill-humour or discontent of any man, or any set of men, and who, no doubt, has many inveterate enemies, you must confess, that all these circumstances argue great magnanimity.
Berlin, though not a fortified, is certainly a very military town. When all the soldiers of the garrison are present, they amount to 30,000. In their general conduct they are quiet, and the police of the town is pretty well regulated. Yet there are some kinds of irregularities which prevail in the highest degree. Public courtezans are more numerous here than in any town in Europe, in proportion to the number of inhabitants. They appear openly at the windows in the day-time, beckon to passengers as they walk in the streets, and plyfor employment in any way they please, without disturbance from the magistrate.
It seems to be a received opinion here, that the peace and happiness of the community are not interrupted by this species of licentiousness; or perhaps it is believed, that an attempt to restrain it would be attended with consequences worse than the thing itself. Therefore nobody is allowed to molest or abuse those who have chosen this for a trade, and as little attention is paid to customers, who frequent the chambers of those ladies, as if they stept into any other house or shop, to purchase any other commodity.
Another species of debauchery is said to prevail in this capital.—I imagine, however, that what is related on that nauseous subject is greatly exaggerated.
The better kind of citizens and manufacturers live entirely among those of their own rank, and without affecting the manners of the courtiers, or stooping to the mean debauchery of the commonalty, maintain the decency, plainness, and honesty of the German character.
His Prussian Majesty has applied his attention to no object with so much zeal, and so little success, as to the establishing of commerce in his dominions. All his efforts, in order to this, have been rendered abortive by injudicious taxes, by monopolies, and other restrictions. Commerce, like the wild commoners of the air and the forest, when confined or shackled, immediately droops and dwindles, or, being alarmed, like Love,
“—— —— —— at sight of human ties,Spreads its light wings, and in a moment flies.”
“—— —— —— at sight of human ties,Spreads its light wings, and in a moment flies.”
“—— —— —— at sight of human ties,
Spreads its light wings, and in a moment flies.”
Berlin.
I thank you, Sir, for the poem and pamphlets you sent me by ——. I own I do not think the former a very capital performance; yet am not surprised at the great run it has had. For though it had contained still a smaller proportion of wit, it would have been a good deal relished on account of the malignity and personal abuse with which it abounds.
The English nation have always had a great appetite for political writings; but those who cater for them have of late served up such messes of mere politics, as seem at length to have turned their stomachs. A little wit or personal satire is now found necessary to make even a newspapergo down. The first is not always at the command of the caterer: he therefore uses the other in its place, which answers his purpose as well.
I never had any delight in contemplating or exposing the dark side of human nature; but there are some shades so obvious, that you cannot open your eyes without observing them. The satisfaction that many people enjoy in reading libels, wherein private characters are traduced, is of that number. If to be abused in pamphlets and news-papers is considered as adversity, the truth of Rochefoucault’s maxim is uncontrovertible:—Dans l’adversité de nos meilleurs amis, nous trouvons toujours quelquechose qui ne nous déplait pas.
The common scribblers of the age have turned to their own account this malevolent disposition, which they perceive tobe so prevalent among men.—Like the people who provide bulls and other animals to be baited by dogs for the amusement of the spectators, these gentlemen turn out a few characters every week to be mangled and torn in the most cruel manner in the public news-papers.
It is the savage taste of those who pay for these amusements, which keeps them in use. The writers of scurrilous books in London often bear no more malice to the individuals they abuse, than the people at Paris and Vienna, who provide the other horrid amusement, bear to the boars, bulls, and other animals which they expose to the fury of dogs.
As for the scribblers, they seldom have any knowledge of the persons whose characters they attack. It is far from being impossible, that the author of the severe verses you sent me, has no more acquaintance with the lords and gentlemen againstwhom he writes with such bitterness, than the weaver who wove their pocket-handkerchiefs. The motive for the fabrication of the one as well as the other commodity most probably was daily bread, and this poetaster has preferred satire to panegyric, merely because he knew the first was most to the taste of his customers.
I remember once to have been in a certain bookseller’s shop, when a letter was delivered to him, inclosing a paper, which, after he had thrown his eyes over it, he presented to me, telling me it was a character of Lord S——, which he intended to insert in a certain work then publishing.—I fancy, added he, it will do pretty well; the author is a sharp blade, I assure you;—none of my boys carry such an edge, or cut so deep, as that little gladiator.
I found this a most bitter invective against the above-mentioned nobleman,written with all the inveteracy of malice and personal enmity, branding him as a prodigy of sensuality, and accusing him of every villanous disposition and propensity that ever tainted the most corrupt heart.
This, said I, is a much more harmless production than is intended. The violence of this poison will prove its own antidote. The most voracious stomach for slander and defamation will not be able to bear such a dose, but must reject it with disgust. Every reader of common understanding will clearly perceive, that all this abuse has been dictated by malice and personal resentment.
Then, replied the bookseller, every reader of common understanding will clearly perceive what does not exist; for the writer of that paper, to my certain knowledge, never had the smallest intercourse or connection with Lord S——; never bore himany ill-will, and has not the most distant wish to injure that noble Lord; as a proof of which, added he, taking another paper out of his drawer, here is a character of the same nobleman, written by the same author, which is to appear about a week after the publication of the former, by way of answer to it.
This second paper was a continued eulogium on Lord S—— from beginning to end, in which the candid author, having compared him to some of the greatest and most celebrated men, and having collected many of the brightest flowers, with which Plutarch has adorned his worthies, he forms them into one large wreath, which he very seriously binds round the English nobleman’s brow, concluding with this observation. That as his Lordship resembled them in their virtues, so like them he had been distinguished by the most virulent attacks of envy and malice, whichwas a tax that had always been paid for superior talents.
How comes my Lord S——, said I to the bookseller, to be selected from his brethren of the peerage, and distinguished so remarkably by the obloquy and the praise of your ingenious friend?
Because, replied he, that nobleman is at the head of an active department, and is one of those vigorous and decisive characters, which never fail to create a number of enemies and of friends. His enemies are delighted to see him abused, and it is expected, that his friends will be charmed to hear him praised; and, between the two, my friend’s productions will find a brisk sale, and I hope to make a tolerable job of his Lordship; which, let me tell you, cannot be done with every man of rank.—Lord, Sir! there are some of them of such mawkish, water-gruel characters,as to interest no mortal. There is ——, a man of such high rank and such a known name, that I thought something might have been made of him:—And so I employed my little Drawcansir for and against him, and two very pretty pamphlets he produced;—but just as I was going to send them to the press, I happened to shew them to a friend of mine, who is an admirable judge in these matters.—These pamphlets, says he, are very well wrote; but they’ll never pay the printing. The person who is the subject of them is of such a cold, tame, civil, cautious disposition, and has balanced so exactly through the whole of his life, that he has never obliged or disobliged any one. He has neither friend nor foe in the world:—Every body says, he is a good enough sort of a man; but were he to break his neck to-night, no human creature would feel either sorrow or satisfaction at the event, and a satire or panegyricon his grandmother would be as much read as those written on him.
In faith, sir, concluded the Bookseller, I took the hint, and so the pamphlets never appeared.
Though I was a good deal entertained with my friend the Bookseller’s reasoning, yet I could not help feeling indignation at the literary bravo, who lived in this infamous manner, by wounding and murdering, or at least attempting to murder, people’s reputations. And those are not entirely free from blame, who detesting the writer, take pleasure in the writings. He has very possibly the plea of necessitous circumstances to urge in alleviation of his wickedness:—but the pleasure they take seems to proceed from a pure, disinterested fondness of seeing others abused. Many of those who cry shame on the licentiousness of the press, and exclaim against theinjustice and cruelty of tearing private characters to pieces in public papers, have the most virulent of these productions served up every morning as regularly as their toast and butter. If they would forego the pleasure of reading the most malicious of those compositions, the evil they complain of would cease directly.
But it is ridiculous, and seems ungrateful, for people to affect an appearance of indignation against those who provide for them one of the greatest enjoyments of their lives. To chuckle over scandal all the forenoon with every mark of pleasure, and decry it in the evening with affected anger, is as preposterous as it would be in a judge, first to seduce a poor wench to fornication, and then punish her for the sin.
You may possibly retort upon me, by putting me in mind of the admiration I expressed of the style of certain celebratedletters, wherein some eminent characters are dissected, and tortured with the scientific skill of an anatomist, and the refined cruelty of an inquisitor. I answer, that I admired the wit and genius, but not the disposition displayed in those letters.
Malice, when introduced by genius and wit, is often tolerated on account of the respect due to the introducers; but when the wretch comes alone, or is accompanied by dulness, which often happens, she will be expelled with infamy from all good company.
Berlin.
The Prussian army at present, according to my information, consists of 180,000 men. If twenty, or even thirty thousand are deducted from this account, on the supposition that it is exaggerated, still the remainder will be very great; and the expence of such an establishment in time of peace, seems to many almost incompatible with the King of Prussia’s resources. Although the revenues of this monarch are much greater than is generally imagined, yet the armies he has supported, and continues to support; the palace he has built, and other expensive undertakings which he has completed, are not such proofs of the greatness of his revenue, as of the prudence with which it has beenmanaged. Many other Princes have greater revenues, which, like water spilt on uncultivated land, and assisting the growth of useless weeds, are dissipated without taste or magnificence on the trumpery of a court and their dependents. Perhaps it was never known what miracles, œconomy, and assiduity through all the departments of government could perform, till this monarch made it apparent.
In the King of Prussia’s dominions, there are none of those polls which enrich individuals at the expence of the public; places suited to the abilities and the luxury of the great, where the salary is large, because the application and talents requisite are small. If those who hold the most lucrative places in this court, can support a becoming dignity by the emoluments of their office, and lay up a very moderate provision for their families, it is the utmost they ever expect.
All commodities are highly taxed in the Prussian dominions. At Berlin, though money is a great deal scarcer than at London or Paris, a stranger will find very little difference in the ordinary expence of living. There are no means by which his revenue can be augmented, which this King has not tried. He has taxed even the vanity of his subjects, and drawn considerable supplies since the beginning of his reign from that plentiful source. The rage which the Germans, above all men, have for titles, prompts many of the wealthy citizens to purchase that of some office about court; and although the King employs no person void of abilities, he never scruples to permit this kind of traffic. The title, however, is literally all that is sold, for with regard to the real business of the office, the purchaser has as little connection with it after the bargain as before. Though his Majesty scarcely ever consults with any body, he has more nominal privy-counsellorsthan any King in Christendom.
The taxes in general are invariably fixed; but methods are found of drawing contributions from the proprietors of the very great estates, which do not affect the smaller landlords, or the rest of the subjects. The spirit of the government is not favourable to great and independent Lords. But both the great and the small landlords are prevented from squeezing or oppressing the peasants. As the soldiery are drawn from them, care is taken that they shall not be deprived of the chief source of health and vigour, and there is no peasantry in Europe better fed than the Prussian.
The army is chiefly composed of provincial regiments. The whole Prussian dominions being divided into circles or cantons; in each of these, one or more regiments,in proportion to the size and populousness of the division, have been originally raised, and from it the recruits continue to be taken; and each particular regiment is always quartered, in the time of peace, near the canton from which its recruits are drawn.
Whatever number of sons a peasant may have, they are all liable to be taken into the service except one, who is left to assist in the management of the farm. The rest wear badges from their childhood, to mark that they are destined to be soldiers, and ready to serve when the state requires them. If a peasant has only one son, he is not forced into the service, except he has the misfortune to be uncommonly stout and well-made. The King, however, endeavours to save his own peasantry, and draw as many recruits as he can from other countries:—For this purpose, there are Prussian officers employed at Hamburgh,Frankfort, and other free towns of Germany. I have seen them also at Neufchatel, and at places near French garrisons, attempting to inlist men, and pick up deserters. The recruits procured in this manner, remain continually with the regiments in which they are placed; but the native Prussians have every year eight or nine months of furlough, during which they return to their fathers’ or brothers’ houses, and work at the business of the farm, or gain their livelihood in any other way they please. Here is at once an immense saving in the expence of the army, and a great gain to the state from the labour of so many men.
From this it appears, that the Prussian army is neither more nor less than a standing militia, embodied for two or three months every year, and then dispersed to their usual labours as farmers.
I think this decides our old dispute on the subject of standing armies and militia. I expert therefore that you will, by the return of post, fairly and candidly acknowledge that I was in the right, and that all your arguments to prove, that a militia could not be depended on in the time of actual service, are built on false principles, and that my opinion was just and well-founded.
Before closing this letter, I will inform you of a very singular incident, the circumstances of which I relate, not so much with a design to illustrate the character or sentiments of the vulgar of this place in particular, as to furnish you with a curious fact in the history of human nature in general.
I went a few days since with Mr. F—— to see a man executed for the murder of a child.—His motives for this horrid deedwere much more extraordinary than the action itself. He had accompanied some of his companions to the house of a fellow, who assumed the character of a fortune-teller, and having disobliged him, by expressing a contempt of his art, the fellow, out of revenge, prophesied, that this man should die on a scaffold.—This seemed to make little impression at the time, but afterwards recurred often to this unhappy creature’s memory, and became every day more troublesome to his imagination. At length the idea haunted his mind so incessantly, that he was rendered perfectly miserable, and could no longer endure life.
He would have put himself to death with his own hands, had he not been deterred by the notion, that God Almighty never forgave suicide; though, upon repentance, he is very ready to pardon every other crime. He resolved, therefore, to commitmurder, that he might be deprived of life by the hands of justice; and mingling a sentiment of benevolence with the cruelty of his intention, he reflected, that if he murdered a grown person, he might possibly send a soul to hell. To avoid this, he determined to murder a child, who could not have committed any sin which deserved damnation, but dying in innocence, would go immediately to Heaven. In consequence of these ideas, he actually murdered an infant of his master’s, for whom he had always shewn an uncommon degree of fondness. Such was the strange account which this infatuated creature gave on his trial;—and thus the random prophecy proved, as in many other cases, the cause of its own completion.
He was executed about two miles from Berlin. As soon as he ascended the scaffold, he took off his coat and waistcoat;—his shirt was rolled down below his shoulders;—hisnight-cap was pulled over his eyes;—he was placed on his knees, and the executioner with a single stroke of a broad sword severed his head from his body.—It was the first time this executioner had performed:—there were two others of the same trade on the scaffold, who exhibited an instance of insensibility more shocking than the execution.—While the man’s head rolled on the scaffold, and the arteries of the trunk poured out their blood, those men, with the gayest air you can imagine, shook their brother by the hand, wished him joy, and clapped him on the back, congratulating him on the dexterous and effectual manner in which he had performed his office.
Berlin.
The D—— of H—— having expressed an inclination to visit the court of Mecklenburg Strelitz, I accompanied him thither soon after his return from Magdeburg and Leipsic. The weather being sultry, his Grace thought that travelling in the night would be most agreeable. We did not set out therefore till about six or seven in the evening. The first post-house is four German miles from Berlin; but as great part of the road is through a large wood, and the night became very dark, the postillions lost their way. In a short time we were perfectly bewildered, and without the smallest notion which direction we should follow. After many ineffectual attempts to find out the path, wethought it would be most prudent to unyoke the horses, and allow them to graze around, while we slept in the chaise till daybreak. This plan was literally followed: as soon as the servants, by the light of the rising sun, had discovered the path, we proceeded by Oranienburg and Seidneek to Reinsburg, which is a magnificent castle belonging to Prince Henry of Prussia.
The gardens here are very extensive, and have been highly improved and ornamented by this Prince, who has a good taste, and a magnificent turn of mind.
When we arrived at the town of New Strelitz, we were informed that the court was at Brandenburg. The Ducal residence was formerly at Old Strelitz; but the palace there, with all the magnificent furniture and effects, was burnt to ashes about fifty years ago. The fire having broke outin the night-time, the family themselves had a very narrow escape.
A new palace has been since built at the distance of two English miles from where the former stood, but in a much more agreeable situation, being placed on a gentle eminence near a fine lake; and the town of New Strelitz has gradually arisen in the neighbourhood.
After a short stay at Strelitz, we proceeded to New Brandenburg, which is some leagues farther north, and within a small distance of the Baltic. We arrived there in the morning of the third day after we had left Berlin. When the Chamberlain of the Court was informed of the D—— of H——’s arrival, we received an invitation to dinner, and a coach and equipage were ordered to attend his Grace.
The reigning Duke of Mecklenburg Strelitz is unmarried, as well as the Princess, his sister, who lives constantly with him. They are both of a darker complexion than the Queen of Great Britain, and neither of them so tall; nor have they much external resemblance of her Majesty, except in the affability of their manner. The Duke is beloved by his subjects, on account of the humanity and benevolence of his disposition, which seem to be characteristic of the whole family.—After dinner there was a concert of music, and card-playing till supper.
The whole country of Mecklenburg was for many centuries under the government of one Prince. In the year 1592, on the death of the Sovereign, it was divided between his two sons. The eldest retaining the Duchy of Mecklenburg Schwerin, which is considerably the largest share; the younger obtained the Duchy of MecklenburgStrelitz. This last branch became extinct in the year 1695, and Duke Frederic William, of the eldest branch, laid claim to the inheritance of the Duchy of Strelitz. But he was opposed by Adolphus Frederic, his father’s younger brother, and the contest was settled by compromise between the parties in 1701. The right of primogeniture, and the lineal succession, were then established in both houses, and this final agreement was ratified by the Emperor.
The country here is not a sandy flat, as around Berlin; but the soil becomes gradually better as you move from that city, and around New Brandenburg it is remarkably fertile. Though the southern border of this Duchy is flat, sandy and barren, yet all the northern part is of a rich verdure, finely diversified with hills, meadows, woods, and several beautiful lakes from four to ten miles in length. The countryyields plenty of corn, hemp, flax, excellent pasture for numerous flocks of sheep, and a good breed of horses.—New Brandenburg is a neat and thriving town, very agreeably situated. The inhabitants carry on a considerable trade in hops, which grow in great abundance all around.
This country, which seems to be happy in its prince and other particulars, cannot rank among its blessings the neighbourhood of so great and warlike a monarch as the King of Prussia. In the course of the late war, both the Mecklenburgs suffered very severely from this circumstance. The Russians and Austrians, who pillaged the middle Mark of Brandenburg, did not ascertain with nicety where the King of Prussia’s dominions ended, and the Duke of Strelitz’s began; but as often as there was any thing valuable to carry away, plundered both without distinction. And when that Monarchhimself was driven to extremity, and obliged to use every means of recruiting his army, the Mecklenburghers were cajoled and seduced by every art into the Prussian service; and when these methods failed, they were, as it is said, taken by force. Even at present, whenever the Prussian recruiting officers know of a strong well-looking peasant belonging to the Duchy of Mecklenburg, they use every means they can devise to seduce him into their master’s service.—Complaints are frequently made of these practices to his Prussian Majesty, and redress will be given when it shall please the Lord.
The second day after our arrival, we spent the forenoon in viewing every thing worthy of notice in the town, and dined again at court, where there was a more numerous company than had been the first day. After dinner we accompanied his Highness and the Princess to an assembly inthe town, and returned to sup at the court. During supper there was a concert of vocal and instrumental music.
Having received every mark of polite attention from this Prince, we took leave of him and the Princess, and left the town early next morning, and returned by Old Strelitz, which is not in such a flourishing condition, or situated in so fine a country, as New Brandenburg. While British subjects pass through this country, they will naturally reflect with gratitude and veneration on the character of a Princess whose virtues are an ornament to the British throne, and whose amiable manners and prudent conduct have united the affections of a people divided by party, and irreconcilable in sentiment on almost every other subject.
On our return to Berlin, I found a letter from Lord Marechal, informing me, that the King was expected at Potsdam withina very few days; that great preparations were making for the reception of the Princess of Hesse and the Duchess of Wurtemberg, who were then both at Berlin, and were to pay a visit to the King at Sans-Souci; that they would be accompanied by the Princess Amelia, the King’s unmarried sister, and his two sisters-in-law, for all of whom apartments were preparing at the new palace, where his majesty also was to reside all the time that his illustrious guests should remain. My Lord added, that the celebrated Le Kain, and a company of French comedians, were already arrived, and also a company of Italian actors and singers for the opera; and that both companies were to perform at the theatre within the palace; that a great concourse of company was expected at Potsdam on the occasion; that most of the apartments in the town were already bespoke, and, as he imagined we should incline to be there, he had engaged lodgings for us.
The Duke was extremely pleased with this obliging behaviour of Lord Marechal. I afterwards spoke to Mr. Harris on this subject, and enquired if he intended to be at Potsdam on the occasion? He told me, that as the plays, operas, and other entertainments, were to be given in the palace, nobody could attend them except those who had particular invitations; that neither he nor any of the foreign ministers had been, or, as he understood, were to be invited, nor did he hear that any strangers were expected;—and that he imagined it would be unbecoming the D—— of H—— to be at Potsdam at that time, except he could with propriety attend the entertainments at Sans-Souci.
His Grace, on hearing this account, determined to remain here; but some days after, I received a letter from Count Finkenstein, acquainting me, that he had orders to invite the D—— of H—— and meto attend the entertainments to be given at Sans-Souci. This afforded us great satisfaction, not so much on account of the public entertainments, as because it will give us opportunities, which we could not otherwise have, of seeing the King of Prussia, and probably in an easier way than at Berlin. As for the usual amusements and splendor of courts, his Grace displays more coolness about them than one would naturally imagine, considering the manner in which he is received, his time of life, and his personal appearance.
——namque ipsa decoramCæsariem nato genitrix, lumenque juventæPurpureum, & lætos oculis afflarat honores.
——namque ipsa decoramCæsariem nato genitrix, lumenque juventæPurpureum, & lætos oculis afflarat honores.
——namque ipsa decoram
Cæsariem nato genitrix, lumenque juventæ
Purpureum, & lætos oculis afflarat honores.
Since our return from Mecklenburg, we have passed our time almost constantly with Mr. Harris, who accompanied the Duke yesterday on his last visit to Shoenhausen; for we shall probably not return to this place from Potsdam. Mr. F—— setout a few days ago for Frankfort on the Maine; his easy humour, and original turn of thought, make his absence felt with pain by all who have tasted the pleasure of his conversation.
Adieu.
Potsdam.
We have been here about a fortnight. His Majesty arrived at the new palace of Sans-Souci about the same time that we came to Potsdam. The Princess Amelia, who is mistress of the ceremonies, was there to receive him. The company I formerly mentioned are all lodged in the palace, I will give you a short sketch of what has passed.
There has been a theatrical entertainment every second or third day. His Grace and I attend at Sans-Souci on these days only. We drive from Potsdam about five in the evening. The company assemble in one of the apartments of the palace about that time, and walk to theplayhouse a little before six. The theatre is very well contrived for the accommodation of a small audience. There are neither boxes nor pit; but semicircular benches in the front of the stage. The foremost bench is upon the floor; the others rise gradually behind, that all the spectators may see equally well.
A few minutes after the company are placed, the Royal Family arrive. The Princess Amelia is led in by Prince Frederick of Brunswick, and the Princess of Hesse by the King. The Duchess of Wurtemberg, and the other Princesses, are led in after; they, and the ladies their attendants, sit in the first rows. The King generally seats himself in the third or fourth. The piece then begins, and is usually finished about nine, after which all the company return to the large apartment, where the King remains conversing in a familiar manner till supper is ready.He then retires, and goes to bed at ten.
Those whom the Princess Amelia orders to be invited, stay to supper; and there is generally a pretty numerous company.—We have been at this repast three or four times, and usually get to our lodgings at Potsdam about midnight.
Hitherto there have been no comedies acted, and I understand there are to be none, because Le Kain never acts in comedy; and for another reason, which is equivalent to a thousand,—his Majesty loves tragedy better.
Le Kain has already appeared in some of his principal characters.—You need not doubt of his exerting all his powers before such an audience.—I might have said, such an auditor. The King seemed pleasedwith his acting, and of consequence the courtiers were in raptures, and vied with each other who should praise him most.
The tragedy of Oedipus is his Majesty’s favourite piece. This has been represented twice, and he seemed to enjoy it very much on both occasions; particularly when the following speech against priests was pronounced:
Tandis que par vos soins vous pouvez tout apprendre,Quel besoin que le Ciel ici se fasse entendre?Ces Dieux, dont le pontife a promis le secours,Dans leus temples, Seigneur, n’habitent pas toujours;On ne voit point leur bras si prodigue en miracles;Ces antres, ces trépieds, qui rendent leurs oracles,Ces organes d’airain que nos mains ont formés,Toujours d’un souffle pur ne sont point animés.Ne nous endormons point sur la foi de leurs prêtres;Au pied du sanctuaire il est souvent des traîtres,Qui nous asservissant sous un pouvoir sacré,Font parler les destins, les font taire à leur gré.Voyez, examinez, avec un soin extrême,Philoctète, Phorbas, & Jocaste elle-même.Ne nous fions qu’à nous, voyons tout par nos yeux,Ce sont là nos trépieds, nos oracles, nos Dieux.
Tandis que par vos soins vous pouvez tout apprendre,Quel besoin que le Ciel ici se fasse entendre?Ces Dieux, dont le pontife a promis le secours,Dans leus temples, Seigneur, n’habitent pas toujours;On ne voit point leur bras si prodigue en miracles;Ces antres, ces trépieds, qui rendent leurs oracles,Ces organes d’airain que nos mains ont formés,Toujours d’un souffle pur ne sont point animés.Ne nous endormons point sur la foi de leurs prêtres;Au pied du sanctuaire il est souvent des traîtres,Qui nous asservissant sous un pouvoir sacré,Font parler les destins, les font taire à leur gré.Voyez, examinez, avec un soin extrême,Philoctète, Phorbas, & Jocaste elle-même.Ne nous fions qu’à nous, voyons tout par nos yeux,Ce sont là nos trépieds, nos oracles, nos Dieux.
Tandis que par vos soins vous pouvez tout apprendre,
Quel besoin que le Ciel ici se fasse entendre?
Ces Dieux, dont le pontife a promis le secours,
Dans leus temples, Seigneur, n’habitent pas toujours;
On ne voit point leur bras si prodigue en miracles;
Ces antres, ces trépieds, qui rendent leurs oracles,
Ces organes d’airain que nos mains ont formés,
Toujours d’un souffle pur ne sont point animés.
Ne nous endormons point sur la foi de leurs prêtres;
Au pied du sanctuaire il est souvent des traîtres,
Qui nous asservissant sous un pouvoir sacré,
Font parler les destins, les font taire à leur gré.
Voyez, examinez, avec un soin extrême,
Philoctète, Phorbas, & Jocaste elle-même.
Ne nous fions qu’à nous, voyons tout par nos yeux,
Ce sont là nos trépieds, nos oracles, nos Dieux.
And afterwards, when Jocasta pours forth another tirade of the same kind, which terminates with these lines:
Nos Prêtres ne sont point ce qu’un vain peuple pense;Notre crédulité fait toute leur science.
Nos Prêtres ne sont point ce qu’un vain peuple pense;Notre crédulité fait toute leur science.
Nos Prêtres ne sont point ce qu’un vain peuple pense;
Notre crédulité fait toute leur science.
I happened to sit next to the Abbé Bastiani, and, while the actress spoke this, the king started up, coughed, and laughed, with very significant gestures, to the ecclesiastic.
But though these passages, and some others, seem at first sight to be severe against priests, the tragedy of Oedipus, upon the whole, does them great honour. For all that is said against them, turns out to be unjust, and it appears that the oracle, which had been treated in such severe terms, was true, and that the high priest had acted throughout like an honest and virtuous man. It surprises me, therefore, that Voltaire should have taken the plotof his play from the Greek tragedy on this subject, which has constrained him, like Balaam the son of Barak, to do honour to those whom he would have been better pleased to have cursed.—And the King on his part (if I may presume to say it) could not have pitched upon a tragedy less à-propos, if his intention was to turn the clergy into ridicule.
I have no objection to this piece, on account of the honour done to the clergy; because I cannot help forming an opinion of men from my own experience: And I have known so many good men of that profession, that I should respect it on their account, exclusive of other reasons.
But I own I have the misfortune not to follow this great monarch, and many other respectable critics, in their admiration of the tragedy of Oedipus.—The fable, in my poor opinion, is too horrible.—The circumstanceof Oedipus being married to his mother, and having children by her, is highly disgusting; and the idea it gives of Providence and the conduct of the gods, cannot have a good effect on the mind. Nothing could be more unjust, than that Heaven should send a plague among the inhabitants of Thebes, and pour such vengeance on poor Oedipus and Jocasta, for crimes of which it knew them to be innocent. We cannot help admitting the justice of Oedipus’s reproaches against the gods, when he says,
Le voilà donc rempli cet oracle exécrable,Dont ma crainte a pressé l’effet inévitable:Et je me vois enfin, par un mélange affreux,Inceste, & parricide, & pourtant vertueux.Miserable vertu, nom stérile & funeste,Toi par qui j’ai réglé des jours que je déteste,A mon noir ascendant tu n’as pû resister:Je tombais dans le piége, en voulant l’éviter.Un dieu plus fort que moi m’entraînait vers le crime;Sous mes pas fugitifs il creusait un abîme;Et j’etais, malgré moi, dans mon aveuglement,D’un pouvoir inconnu l’esclave & l’instrument.Voilà tous mes forfaits, je n’en connais point d’autres.Impitoyables dieux, mes crimes sont les vôtres,Et vous m’en punissez.…
Le voilà donc rempli cet oracle exécrable,Dont ma crainte a pressé l’effet inévitable:Et je me vois enfin, par un mélange affreux,Inceste, & parricide, & pourtant vertueux.Miserable vertu, nom stérile & funeste,Toi par qui j’ai réglé des jours que je déteste,A mon noir ascendant tu n’as pû resister:Je tombais dans le piége, en voulant l’éviter.Un dieu plus fort que moi m’entraînait vers le crime;Sous mes pas fugitifs il creusait un abîme;Et j’etais, malgré moi, dans mon aveuglement,D’un pouvoir inconnu l’esclave & l’instrument.Voilà tous mes forfaits, je n’en connais point d’autres.Impitoyables dieux, mes crimes sont les vôtres,Et vous m’en punissez.…
Le voilà donc rempli cet oracle exécrable,
Dont ma crainte a pressé l’effet inévitable:
Et je me vois enfin, par un mélange affreux,
Inceste, & parricide, & pourtant vertueux.
Miserable vertu, nom stérile & funeste,
Toi par qui j’ai réglé des jours que je déteste,
A mon noir ascendant tu n’as pû resister:
Je tombais dans le piége, en voulant l’éviter.
Un dieu plus fort que moi m’entraînait vers le crime;
Sous mes pas fugitifs il creusait un abîme;
Et j’etais, malgré moi, dans mon aveuglement,
D’un pouvoir inconnu l’esclave & l’instrument.
Voilà tous mes forfaits, je n’en connais point d’autres.
Impitoyables dieux, mes crimes sont les vôtres,
Et vous m’en punissez.…
We must suspect, however, that Jocasta has mistaken in the opinion she utters in the concluding lines of the tragedy.
Prêtres, & vous Thébains, qui futes mes sujets,Honorez mon bucher, & songez à jamais,Qu’au milieu des horreurs du destin qui m’opprime,J’ai fait rougir les dieux, qui m’ont forcée au crime.
Prêtres, & vous Thébains, qui futes mes sujets,Honorez mon bucher, & songez à jamais,Qu’au milieu des horreurs du destin qui m’opprime,J’ai fait rougir les dieux, qui m’ont forcée au crime.
Prêtres, & vous Thébains, qui futes mes sujets,
Honorez mon bucher, & songez à jamais,
Qu’au milieu des horreurs du destin qui m’opprime,
J’ai fait rougir les dieux, qui m’ont forcée au crime.
For those, who could force innocent people to commit criminal actions, and then punish them on that account, were not capable of blushing for any thing. A French tragedy and Italian opera are represented at this theatre alternately; the King attends the latter as punctually as the former, and displays in his countenance that extreme sensibility to music, which forms part of his character. I imagine this Prince would succeed better in any thing than in simulation, if he should ever think it worth his while to attemptthat part of hypocrisy,—his features are so expressive of his feelings, that the first would be constantly in danger of betraying the other. When there is no representation at the theatre, his Majesty has a private concert in his own apartment, where he himself performs on the German flute, in which instrument he has attained the highest degree of excellence.—To these concerts no stranger is admitted.
Potsdam.
When we first arrived here, there was nothing I was so eager to see as the Prussian troops at their exercise; but the reviews at Berlin have completely satiated my curiosity. And though the gardens of the palace are just opposite to the windows of our inn, I hardly ever go to look at the guards, who are paraded there every forenoon.—A few days ago, however, I happened to take a very early walk about a mile out of town, and seeing some soldiers under arms, in a field at a small distance from the road, I went towards them. An officer on horseback, whom I took to be the Major, for he gave the word of command, was uncommonly active, and often rode among the ranks toreprimand, or instruct, the common men. When I came nearer, I was much surprised to find that this was the king himself. He had his sword drawn, and continued to exercise the corps for an hour after. He made them wheel, march, form the square, and fire by divisions, and in platoons, observing all their motions with infinite attention; and, on account of some blunder, put two officers of the Prince of Prussia’s regiment in arrest.—In short, he seemed to exert himself with all the spirit of a young officer, eager to attract the notice of his General by uncommon alertness.
I expressed my surprise to an officer present, that the King was not willing to take some repose, particularly from that kind of employment of which he had had so very much of late, and that he could take so much pains with a mere handful of men immediately after he had come from exercising whole armies.
This gentleman told me, that, on this particular day, the King had been trying some new evolutions; but though this had not been the case, he might very possibly have been in the field:—for his maxim was, that his troops should display as much briskness on a common field-day as if they were to engage in battle; and therefore it was never known when he intended to be present, or when not;—that as for repose, he took it between ten at night and four in the morning, and his other hours were all devoted to action, either of body or mind, or both; and that the exercise he had just taken, was probably by way of relaxation after three hours previous labour in his cabinet.
The more I see and hear of this extraordinary man, the more am I astonished. He reconciles qualities which I used to think incompatible. I once was of opinion, that the mind, which stoops to very small objects,is incapable of embracing great ones;—I am now convinced, that he is an exception; for while few objects are too great for his genius, none seem too small for his attention.
I once thought that a man of much vivacity was not capable of entering into the detail of business:—I now see that he, who is certainly a man of wit, can continue methodically the necessary routine of business, with the patience and perseverance of the greatest dunce that ever drudged in a compting-house.
Since my last, we have seen the Italians perform; but neither the plays nor the operas, nor any part of the entertainments, interest me half so much, or could draw me so assiduously to Sans-Souci, as the opportunity this attendance gives of seeing the King. Other monarchs acquire importance from their station; this Princegives importance to his. The traveller in other countries has a wish to see the King, because he admires the kingdom:—here the object of curiosity is reversed:—and let us suppose the palaces, and the towns, and the country, and the army of Prussia ever so fine, yet our chief interest in them will arise from their belonging to Frederic the Second;—the man, who, without an ally but Britain, repelled the united force of Austria, France, Russia, and Sweden.
Count Nesselrode, talking with me on this subject, had an expression equally lively and just: C’est dans l’adversité qu’il brille, lorsqu’il est bien comprimé il a un ressort irrésistible.
The evening of the day on which I had seen the King in the field, I was at Sans-Souci; for I wish to neglect no opportunityof being present where this monarch is. I like to stand near him, to hear him speak, and to observe his movements, attitudes, and most indifferent actions. He always behaves with particular affability to the D—— of H——. One evening, before the play began, his Grace and I were standing accidentally with Count Finkenstein, in a room adjoining to the great apartment where the company were. The King entered alone, when he was not expected, and immediately began a conversation with the D——.
He asked several questions relating to the British constitution; particularly at what age a peer could take his seat in parliament?—When the Duke replied, At twenty-one.—It is evident from that, said the King, that the English Patricians acquire the necessary talents for legislation much sooner than those of ancient Rome, whowere not admitted into the Senate till the age of forty.
He then enquired about the state of Lord Chatham’s health, and expressed high esteem for the character of that minister.—He asked me, if I had received letters by the last post, and if they mentioned any thing of the affairs in America?—He said, there were accounts from Holland, that the English troops had been driven from Boston, and that the Americans were in possession of that place.—— I told him, our letters informed us, that the army had left Boston to make an attack with more effect elsewhere.
He smiled, and said—If you will not allow the retreat to have been an affair of necessity, you will at least admit, that it wastout-à-fait à propos.
He said he heard that some British officers had gone into the American service, and mentioned Colonel Lee, whom he had seen at his Court. He observed, that it was a difficult thing to govern men by force at such a distance;—that if the Americans should be beat (which appeared a little problematical), still it would be next to impossible to continue to draw from them a revenue by taxation;—that if we intended conciliation with America, some of our measures were too rough; and if we intended its subjection, they were too gentle. He concluded by saying, Enfin, Messieurs, je ne comprends pas ces choses là; je n’ai point de colonie:—j’espère que vous vous tirerez bien d’affaire, mais elle me parôit un peu épineuse.—— Having said this, he walked into the Princess’s apartment, to lead her to the playhouse, while we joined the company already assembledthere.—The tragedy of Mahomet was performed, which, in my opinion, is the finest of all Voltaire’s dramatic pieces, and that in which Le Kain appears to the greatest advantage.
Potsdam.
You express such an earnest desire to be made acquainted with every thing which regards the King of Prussia, that I am in danger of lengthening my descriptions with a tedious minuteness. Yet I will risk it, rather than give you reason to complain that I have not gratified your curiosity as fully as is in my power.
Do not imagine, however, that I presume to draw a complete portrait of this monarch. That must be the work of much abler painters, who have seen him in a more familiar manner, and whose colours can give an expression worthy of the original. I shall only attempt to give a faithful sketch of such features as I wasable to seize during the transient views I myself had, or which I have learnt from those who have passed with him many of the hours which he dedicates to free conversation, and the pleasures of the table.
The King of Prussia is below the middle size, well made, and remarkably active for his time of life. He has become hardy by exercise and a laborious life; for his constitution originally seems to have been none of the strongest. His look announces spirit and penetration. He has fine blue eyes; and, in my opinion, his countenance upon the whole is agreeable. Some who have seen him are of a different opinion. All who judge from his portraits only, must be so; for although I have seen many which have a little resemblance of him, and some which have a great deal, yet none of them do him justice. His features acquire a wonderful degree of animationwhile he converses.—This is entirely lost upon canvas.
He stoops considerably, and inclines his head almost constantly to one side.
His tone of voice is the cleared and most agreeable in conversation I ever heard.
He speaks a great deal; yet those who hear him, regret that he does not speak a great deal more. His observations are always lively, very often just, and few men possess the talent of repartee in greater perfection.
He hardly ever varies his dress, which consists of a blue coat, lined and faced with red, and a yellow waistcoat and breeches. He always wears boots, with hussar tops, which fall in wrinkles about his ancles, and are oftener of a dark brown than a black colour.
His hat would be thought extravagantly large in England, though it is of the size commonly used by the Prussian officers of cavalry. He generally wears one of the large side corners over his forehead and eyes, and the front cock at one side.
He wears his hair cued behind, and dressed with a single buckle on each side. From their being very carelessly put up and unequally powdered, we may naturally conclude, that the friseur has been greatly hurried in the execution of his office.
He uses a very large gold snuff-box, the lid ornamented with diamonds, and takes an immoderate quantity of Spanish snuff, the marks of which very often appear on his waistcoat and breeches. These are also liable to be soiled by the paws of two or three Italian greyhounds, which he often caresses.
He dresses as soon as he gets up in the morning. This takes up but a few minutes, and serves for the whole day.—You have often heard that the King of Prussia’s hours, from four or five in the morning, till ten at night, are all dedicated methodically to particular occupations, either of business or amusement. This is certainly true, and the arrangement has not sustained such an interruption for many years, as since the present company came to Potsdam.
Some who pretend to more than common penetration assert, that at present they can perceive marks of uneasiness in his countenance, and seem convinced, that there will not be such another company at Sans-Souci during this reign.
All business with the King is transacted by letters. Every petition or proposal must be made in this form, which is adheredto so invariably, as I have been assured, that if any of his Generals wished to promote a cadet to the rank of an ensign, he would not venture to make his proposal in any other manner, even though he had daily opportunities of conversing with his Majesty.
The meanest of his subjects may apply to him in writing, and are sure of an answer. His first business every morning is the perusing the papers addressed to him. A single word wrote with his pencil in the margin, indicates the answer to be given, which is afterwards made out in form by his secretaries.—This method affords the King time to deliberate on the justice and propriety of every demand, and prevents the possibility of his being surprised into a promise, which it might be inconvenient to perform.
He sits down to dinner precisely at noon. Of late he allows more time to this repast than formerly. It is generally after three before he leaves the company. Eight or nine of his officers are commonly invited to dine with him. Since our coming to Potsdam, Count Nesselrode, and the Abbé Bastiani, two men of letters, were the only company, besides the officers, who dined with the King, while he lived in his usual way at the Old Palace of Sans-Souci; and those two were then of his party almost every day. The Count has now left this Court; the Abbé has an apartment in the Palace. He is an Italian by birth, a man of wit, and an excellent companion.
At table, the King likes that every person should appear to be on a footing, and that the conversation should be carried on with perfect freedom. The thing, by the way, is impossible. That confidential unrestrainedflow of the heart, which takes place in a society of equals, is a pleasure which a despotic Prince can never taste. However, his Majesty desires that it may be so, and they make the best of it they can.
At one of these meetings, when the King was in a gay humour, he said to Bastiani,—When you shall obtain the tiara, which your exemplary piety must one day procure you, how will you receive me when I arrive at Rome to pay my duty to your Holiness?—I will immediately give orders, replied the Abbé, with great readiness, Qu’on fasse entrer l’aigle noir,—qu’il me couvre de ses ailes, mais—qu’il m’épargne de son bec.
Nobody says more lively things in conversation than the King himself. Many of his bons mots are repeated here, I shall only mention one, which is at once aninstance of his wit, and greatness of mind, in rendering justice to the merit of a man who has caused him more vexation than perhaps any other person alive.—When the King of Prussia had a personal meeting some years since with the Emperor; they always dined together, a certain number of their principal officers being with them. One day, General Laudohn was going to place himself at the bottom of the table, when the King, who was at the head, called to him, Venez, je vous en prie, Monsieur Laudohn, placez vous ici. J’aime infiniment mieux vous avoir de mon cotè que vis-à-vis.
Though all the cordiality of friendship, and the full charms of unreserved society, cannot exist where the fortune of every other individual depends on the will of one of the company; yet the King endeavours to put every one as much at his ease as the nature of the case will admit, and Ihave heard of his bearing some very severe retorts with perfect good humour. He has too much wit himself, and is too fond of it in others, to repel its attacks with any other weapons than those which it furnishes. None but the most absurd of dunces could attempt to rally, without being able to allow of raillery; and only the meanest of souls would think of revenging the liberties taken with a companion by the power of a King.
A very striking instance of the freedom which may be used with him occurred a little before the late reviews, and what makes it more remarkable, it happened, not during the gaiety of the table, but on the very scene of military strictness.
Two regiments were in the field. That of General —— was one of them. This officer is fond of company, and passes more of his time in the society of strangers, andwith the foreign ministers, than most others in the Prussian service.—Something, it is probable, had chagrined the King that morning. While the regiment advanced in a line, he said to the General, who stood near him, Votre regiment n’est pas aligné, Monsieur ——, et ce n’est pas surprenant, vous jouez tant aux cartes. The General called out instantly with a loud voice to the regiment, Alte! and they immediately stopped: then, turning to the King, he said, Il n’est pas question, Sire, de mes cartes—Mais, ayez la bonté de regarder si ce regiment n’est pas aligné.—The regiment was in a very straight line, and the King moved away without speaking, and seemingly displeased, not with the General, but with himself.—This manly officer never had reason afterwards to believe that the King had taken his freedom amiss.
I have already said, that it is absolutely impossible for any man to enjoy an officein the King of Prussia’s service without performing the duty of it. He is himself active and assiduous, and he makes it a point that all his ministers and servants shall be so too. But to those who know their business, and perform it exactly, he is an easy and equitable master.
A gentleman, who has been many years about his person, and is now one of his aid-de-camps, assured me of this:—The King understands what ought to be done: and his servants are never exposed to the ridiculous or contradictory orders of ignorance, or the mortifications of caprice.
His favourites, of whatever kind, never were able to acquire influence over him in any thing regarding business. Nobody ever knew better how to discriminate the merit of those who serve him in the important departments of state, from theirs who contribute to his amusement. A manwho performs the duty of his office with alertness and fidelity, has nothing to apprehend from the King’s being fond of the company and conversion of his enemy. Let the one be regaled at the King’s table every day, while the other never receives a single invitation; yet the real merit of both is known:—and if his adversary should ever try to turn the King’s favour to the purposes of private hatred or malice, the attempt will be repelled with disdain, and the evil he intended to another, will fall on himself.