but its authenticity does not rest on that uncertain basis. Singularly enough, it comes to me individually, by two clear stages, from Frederick's sister, the duchess of Brunswick, who, if any body, would know it well." We have often spoken of the entire neglect with which the king treated his virtuous and amiable queen. Preuss relates the following incident: "When the king, after the Seven Years' War, now and then in carnival season dined with the queen in her apartments, he usually said not a word to her. He merely, on entering, on sitting down at table, and leaving it, made the customary bows, and sat opposite to her. Once the queen was ill of gout. The table was in her apartments; but she was not there. She sat in an easy-chair in the drawing-room. On this occasion the king stepped up to the queen and inquired about her health. The circumstance occasioned among the company present, and all over the town, as the news spread, great wonder and sympathy. This is probably the last time he ever spoke to her." tent. See you, that is the state I found the "Schwartz, at Neisse, made the unpardonable mistake of not sufficiently besetting the height on the left wing; had it been serious, the battle had been lost. At Breslau, Erlach, instead of covering the army by seizing the heights, marched off with his division straight as a row of cabbages into that defile; whereby, had it been earnest, the enemy's cavalry would have cut down our infantry, and the fight was gone. "It is not my purpose to lose battles by the base conduct of my generals; wherefore I hereby appoint that you, next year, if I be alive, assemble the army between Breslau and Ohlau; for four days before I arrive in your camp, carefully manoeuvre with the ignorant generals, and teach them what their duty is. Regiment Von Arnim and regiment Von Kanitz are to act the enemy; and whoever does not then fulfill his duty shall go to court-martial; for I should think it a shame of any country to keep such people, who trouble themselves so little about their business." The king seemed to think it effeminate and a disgrace to him as a soldier ever to appear in a carriage. He never drove, but constantly rode from Berlin to Potsdam. In the winter of 1785, "The king was fond of children; he liked to have his grand-nephews about him. One day, while the king sat at work in his cabinet, the younger of the two, a boy of eight or nine, was playing ball about the room, and knocked it once and again into the king's writing opera-when he was quite feeble, he wished to go from tion, who twice or oftener flung it back to him, but next time put it in his pocket, and went on. 'Please your majesty, give it me back,' begged the boy, and again begged: majesty took no notice; continued writing. Till at length came, in the tone of indignation, 'Will your majesty give me my ball, then?' The king looked up; found the little Hohenzollern planted firm, hands on haunches, and wearing quite a peremptory air. 'Thou art a brave little fellow. They won't get Silesia out of thee?' cried he, laughing, and flinging him his ball. "2 The fault-finding character of the king, and his intense devotion to perfecting his army, both increased with his advancing years. After one of his reviews of the troops in Silesia, in the year 1784, he wrote in the following severe strain to the commanding general: "POTSDAM, September 7, 1784. "MY DEAR GENERAL,-While in Silesia I mentioned to you, and will now repeat in writing, that my army in Silesia was at no time so bad as at present. Sans Souci, which was exposed to bleak winds, and where they had only hearth fires, to more comfortable winter-quarters in the new palace. The weather was stormy. After waiting a few days for such a change as would enable him to go on horseback, and the cold and wind increasing, he was taken over in a sedan-chair in the night, when no one could see him. In August, 1785, the king again visited Silesia to review his troops. A private letter, quoted by Carlyle, gives an interesting view of his appearance at the time: "He passed through Hirschberg on the 18th of August. A concourse of many thousands had been waiting for him several hours. Outriders came at last; then he himself, the unique; and, with the liveliest expression of reverence and love, all eyes were directed on one point. I can not describe to you my feelings, which, of course, were those of every body, to see him, the aged king; in his weak hand the hat; in those grand eyes such a fatherly benignity of Were I to make shoemak-look over the vast crowd that encircled his carers or tailors into generals, the regiments could riage, and rolled tide-like, accompanying it. not be worse. Regiment Thadden is not fit to Looking round, I saw in various eyes a tear be the most insignificant militia battalion of a trembling. Prussian army. Of the regiment Erlach the men are so spoiled by smuggling they have no resemblance to soldiers; Keller is like a heap of undrilled boors; Hager has a miserable commander; and your own regiment is very mediocre. Only with graf Von Anhalt, with Wendessen, and markgraf Heinrich, could I be con-dent stepped forward and said, 'The burned-out 1 PREUSS, iv. 187. 2 FISCHER, ii. 445, as cited by CARLYLE. VOL. XLII.-No. 252.-56 "His affability, his kindliness, to whoever had the honor of speech with this great king, who shall describe it! After talking a good while with the merchants deputation from the hill country, he said, 'Is there any thing more, then, from any body?' Upon which the presi inhabitants of Greiffenberg have charged me to express once more their most submissive gratitude for the gracious help in rebuilding; their word of thanks is indeed of no importance; but they daily pray God to reward such royal beneficence.' The king was visibly affected, and said, 'You don't need to thank me; when my subjects fall into misfortune, it is my duty to help them up again; for that reason am I here."" On Monday, the 22d of August, the great review commenced near Strehlen. It lasted four days. All the country mansions around were filled with strangers who had come to witness the spectacle. "The sure fact, and the forever memorable, is that on Wednesday, the third day of it, from four in the morning, when the manœuvres began, till well after ten o'clock, when they ended, there was rain like Noah's; rain falling as from buckets and water-spouts; and that Frederick, so intent upon his business, paid not the least regard to it; but rode about, intensely inspecting, in lynx-eyed watchfulness of every thing, as if no rain had been there. Was not at the pains even to put on his cloak. Six hours of such down-pour; and a weakly old man of seventy-three past! Of course he was wetted to the bone. On returning to head-quarters his boots were found full of water; when pulled off, it came pouring from them like a pair of pails.' Lafayette, lord Cornwallis, and the duke of York were his guests at the dinner-table that day. his force and energy of soul, they say, have often supported him, and in desperate crises have even seemed to increase. Liking to him I never had. His ostentatious immorality has much hurt public virtue, and there have been related to me barbarities which excite horror. "He has done us all a great deal of ill. He has been king for his own country, but a troublefeast for those about him-setting up to be the arbiter of Europe, always assailing his neighbors, and making them pay the expense. daughters of Maria Theresa, it is impossible we can regret him; nor is it the court of France that will make his funeral oration." As The prince of Ligne, a very accomplished courtier, about this time visited the sick and dying king. During his brief stay he dined daily with the king and spent his evenings with him. In an interesting account which he gives of these interviews he writes: "Daily for five hours the universality of his conversation completed my enchantment at his powers. The arts, war, medicine, literature, religion, philosophy, morality, history, and legislation passed in review by turns. The great times of Augustus and Louis XIV.; the good society among the Romans, the Greeks, and the French; the chivalry of Francis I.; the valor of Henry IV.; the revival of letters, and their changes since Leo X.; anecdotes of men of talent of former days, and their errors; the eccentricities of Voltaire; the sensitive vanity of Maupertuis; the agreeableness of Algarotti; the wit of Jordan; the hypochondriacism of the marquis D'Argens, whom the king used to induce to keep his bed for four-and-twenty hours by merely telling him he looked ill--and what not besides? All that could be said of the most varied and agreeable kind was what came from him, in a gentle tone of voice, rather low, and very agreeable from his manner of moving his It lips, which possessed an inexpressible grace.' The king suffered from his exposure, was very feverish, and at an early hour went to bed. The next day he completed his review. And the next day "went-round by Neisse, inspection not to be omitted there, though it doubles the distance-to Brieg, a drive of eighty miles, inspection work included." From this exhausting journey for so old a man the king returned to Potsdam through a series of state dinners, balls, and illuminations. On the night of the 18th of September he was awoke by a very severe fit of suffocation. was some time before he could get any relief, and it was thought that he was dying. The next day gout set in severely. This was followed by dropsy. The king suffered severely through the winter. There is no royal road through the sick-chamber to the tomb. The weary months of pain and languor came and went. The renowned Mirabeau visited the king in his sick-chamber on the 17th of April, 1786. He writes: "My dialogue with the king was very lively, But the king was in such suffering, and so -straitened for breath, I was myself anxious to shorten it. That same evening I traveled on." That same evening Marie Antoinette wrote from Versailles to her sister Christine at Brus-sels: "The king of Prussia is thought to be dying. I am weary of the political discussions on this subject as to what effects his death must produce. He is better at this moment, but so weak he can not resist long. Physique is gone. But 112 Dr. Moore gives the following account of a surprising scene, considering that the king was an infirm and suffering man seventy-three years of age: "A few days ago I happened to take a very early walk about a mile from Potsdam, and seeing some soldiers under arms in a field at a small distance from the road, I went toward 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 to reprimand 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 1 Correspondance Inédite de Marie Antoinette, p. 137. 2 Mémoires et Mélanges Historiques et Littéraires, par le Prince de Ligny. of some blunder, put two officers of the prince | brought to the door, but the king found himof 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." Frederick was very fond of dogs. This was one of his earliest passions, and it continued until the end of his life. He almost invariably had five or six Italian greyhounds about him, leaping upon the chairs and sleeping upon the sofas in his room. Dr. Zimmermann describes them as placed on blue satin chairs and couches near the king's arm-cnair, and says that when Frederick, during his last illness, used to sit on his terrace at Sans Souci in order to enjoy the sun, a chair was always placed by his side, which was occupied by one of his dogs. He fed them himself, took the greatest possible care of them when they were sick, and when they died buried them in the gardens of Sans Souci. The traveler may still see their tombs-flat stones with the names of the dogs beneath engraved upon them at each end of the terrace of Sans Souci, in front of the palace. "The king was accustomed to pass his leisure moments in playing with them; and the room where he sat was strewed with leather balls with which they amused themselves. As they were all much indulged, though there was always one especial favorite, they used to tear the damask covers of the chairs in the king's apartment, and gnaw and otherwise injure the furniture. This he permitted without rebuke, and used only to say: 666 self too weak to mount. Still, while in this state of extreme debility and pain, he conducted the affairs of state with the most extraordinary energy and precision. The minutest questions received his attention, and every branch of business was prosecuted with as much care and perfection as in his best days. "He saw his ministers, saw all who had business with him, many who had little; and in the sore coil of bodily miseries, as Hertzberg observed with wonder, never was the king's intellect clearer, or his judgment more just and decisive. Of his disease, except to the doctors, he spoke no word to any body. "The body of Frederick is a ruin; but his soul is still here, and receives his friends and his tasks as formerly. Asthma, dropsy, erysipelas, continual want of sleep; for many months past he has not been in bed, but sits day and night in an easy-chair, unable to get breath except in that posture. He said one morning, to somebody entering, 'If you happened to want a night-watcher, I could suit you well.' There is something truly sublime in the devotion with which he, in disregard of sleeplessness, exhaustion, and pain, gave himself to work. His three clerks were summoned to his room each morning at four o'clock. "My situation forces me," he said, "to give them this trouble, which they will not have to suffer long. My life is on the decline. The time which I still have belongs not to me, but to the state." But "My dogs destroy my chairs; but how can He conversed cheerfully upon literature, hisI help it? And if I were to have them mend-tory, and the common topics of the day. ed to-day, they would be torn again to-morrow. So I suppose I must bear with the inconvenience. After all, a marquise De Pompadour would cost me a great deal more, and would neither be as attached nor as faithful.' he seemed studiously to avoid any allusion to God, to the subject of religion, or to death. He had from his early days very emphatically expressed his disbelief in any God who took an interest in the affairs of men. Throughout his whole life he had abstained from any recognition of such a God by any known acts of prayer or worship. Still Mr. Carlyle writes: One of Frederick's dogs, Biche, has attained almost historic celebrity. We can not vouch for the authenticity of the anecdote; but it is stated that the king took Biche with him on the cam- "From of old, life has been infinitely conpaign of 1745. One day the king, advancing temptible to him. In death, I think, he has on a reconnoissance, was surprised and pursued neither fear nor hope. Atheism, truly, he by a large number of Austrians. He took ref- never could abide to him, as to all of us, it uge under a bridge, and wrapping Biche in his was flatly inconceivable that intellect, moral cloak, held him close to his breast. The sa- emotion, could have been put into him by an gacious animal seemed fully conscious of the Entity that had none of its own. But there, peril of his master. Though of a very nerv-pretty much, his Theism seems to have stopped. ous temperament, and generally noisy and disposed to bark at the slightest disturbance, he remained perfectly quiet until the Austrians had passed. Instinctively, too, he believed, no man more firmly, that Right alone has ultimately any strength in this world: ultimately, yes; but for him and his poor brief interests, what good was it? Hope for himself in Divine Justice, At the battle of Sohr Biche was taken captive with the king's baggage. The animal man-in Divine Providence, I think he had not pracifested so much joy upon being restored to its master that the king's eyes were flooded with tears. On the 4th of July the king rode out for the last time. Not long after, the horse was again 1 Dr. MOORE, View of Society and Manners in France, Switzerland, and Germany. tically any: that the unfathomable Demiurgus should concern himself with such a set of paltry ill-given animalcules as one's self and mankind are, this also, as we have often noticed, is in the main incredible to him. "Inarticulate notions, fancies, transient as ↓ CARLYLE, vol. vi. p. 535. not appear to do so, but talks as if it were a swelling accompanying convalescence, and proceeding from previous weakness. He is determined not to die if violent remedies can save him, but to submit to punctures and incisions to draw off the water." pirations, he might have, in the back-ground | but will not perceive what it is, or at least will of his mind. One day, sitting for a while outof-doors, gazing into the sun, he was heard to murmur, 'Perhaps I shall be nearer thee soon:' and indeed nobody knows what his thoughts were in these final months. There is traceable only a complete superiority to fear and hope; in parts, too, are half glimpses of a great motionless interior lake of sorrow, sadder than any tears or complainings, which are altogether wanting to it.' Dr. Zimmermann, whose work on solitude had given him some renown, had been sent for to administer to the illustrious patient. His prescriptions were of no avail. On the 10th of August, 1786, Frederick wrote to his sister, the duchess dowager of Brunswick : Again, on the 8th, Dr. Zimmermann wrote: "The king is extraordinarily ill. On the 4th erysipelas appeared on the leg. This announces bursting and mortification. He has much oppression, and the smell of the wound is very bad." He On the 15th, after a restless night, he did not wake until eleven o'clock in the morning. For a short time he seemed confused. He then summoned his generals and secretaries, and gave his orders with all his wonted precision. then called in his three clerks and dictated to them upon various subjects. His directions to an embassador, who was about leaving, filled four quarto pages. "MY ADORABLE SISTER,-The Hanover doctor has wished to make himself important with you, my good sister; but the truth is, he has been of no use to me. The old must give place to the young, that each generation may find As night came on he fell into what may be room clear for it: and life, if we examine called the death-sleep. His breathing was painstrictly what its course is, consists in seeing ful and stertorous; his mind was wandering one's fellow-creatures die and be born. In the in delirious dreams; his voice became inarticumean while, I have felt myself a little easier for late. At a moment of returning consciousness the last day or two. My heart remains invi- he tried several times in vain to give some ntolably attached to you, my good sister. With terance to his thoughts. Then, with a despairthe highest consideration, my adorable sister, ing expression of countenance, he sank back your faithful brother and servant, upon his pillow. Fever flushed his cheeks, and his eyes assumed some of their wonted fire. Thus the dying hours were prolonged, as the friendless monarch, surrounded by respectful attendants, slowly descended to the grave. "FREDERICK," The last letter which it is supposed that he wrote was the following cold epistle to his excellent wife, whom, through a long life, he had treated with such cruel neglect: "MADAM,—I am much obliged by the wishes you deign to form; but a heavy fever I have taken hinders me from answering you.' Scarcely any thing can be more sad than the record of the last days and hours of this extraordinary man. Few of the children of Adam have passed a more joyless life. Few have gone down to a grave shrouded with deeper gloom. None of those Christian hopes which so often alleviate pain, and take from death its sting, cheered his dying chamber. To him the grave was but the portal to the abyss of annihilation. Days of pain and nights of sleeplessness were his portion. A hard cough racked his frame. His strength failed him. Ulcerous sores broke out upon various parts of his body. A constant oppression at his chest rendered it impossible for him to lie down. Gout tortured him. His passage to the grave led through eighteen months of constant suffering. Dr. Zimmermann, in his diary of the 2d of August, writes: "The king is very chilly, and is always enveloped in pelisses, and covered with featherbeds. He has not been in bed for six weeks, but sleeps in his chair for a considerable time together, and always turned to the right side. The dropsical swelling augments. He sees it, His feet and legs became cold. Death was stealing its way toward the vitals. About nine o'clock Wednesday evening a painful cough commenced, with difficulty of breathing, and an ominous rattle in the throat. One of his dogs sat by his bedside, and shivered with cold; the king made a sign for them to throw a quilt over it. Another severe fit of coughing ensued, and the king, having with difficulty got rid of the phlegm, said, "The mountain is passed; we shall be better now." These were his last words. The expiring monarch sat in his chair, but in a state of such extreme weakness that he was continually sinking down, with his chest and neck so bent forward that breathing was almost impossible. One of his faithful valets took the king upon his knee and placed his left arm around his waist, while the king threw his right arm around the valet's neck. It was midnight. "Within doors all is silence; around it the dark earth is silent, above it the silent stars." Thus for two hours the attendant sat motionless, holding the dying king. Not a word was spoken; no sound could be heard but the painful breathing which precedes death. At just twenty minutes past two o'clock the breathing ceased, the spirit took its flight, and the lifeless body alone remained. Life's great battle was ended, and the soul of the monarch ascended to that dread tribunal where prince and peasant must alike answer for all the deeds done in the body. It was the 17th of August, 1786. The king had reigned forty-six years, and had lived seventy-six years, six months, and twenty-four days. One clause in the king's will was judiciously disregarded. As a last mark of his contempt for his own species, Frederick had directed that he should be buried at Sans Souci by the side of his dogs. "All next day the body lay in state in the palace; thousands crowding, from Berlin and the other environs, to see that face for the last time. Wasted, worn, but beautiful in death, with the thin gray hair parted into locks, and slightly powdered."" At eight o'clock in the evening his body was borne, accompanied by a battalion of the Guards, to Potsdam; eight horses drew the hearse. An immense concourse, in silence and sadness, filled the streets. He was buried in a small chapel in the church of the garrison at Potsdam. There the remains of Frederick and his father repose side by side. "Life's labor done, securely laid ANNE FURNESS. BY THE AUTHOR OF "MABEL'S PROGRESS," "AUNT MARGARET'S TROUBLE," Mr. Ashby-of whom mention has been made as being the former owner of the house in which Mr. Arkwright lived, now in the possession of Matthew Kitchen-was dead, and no successor to him in the trust had been appointed. The other trustee was Mr. Cudberry. Him I resolved to see without delay. I was aware that his consent would be necessary to enable my mother and myself to give up the settlement. Mother, when this consideration had first been presented to her, had almost despaired. "Your uncle Cudberry will never consent, Anne!" she had exclaimed. "And I know well that he will say I am not doing my duty as a parent in allowing you to contemplate such a step for a moment." like the walk. It will do me good. Take care of yourself, dear mother. And if father returns before I come back, tell him that I hope to bring good news, and that I am quite cheerful and hopeful. I do believe that I see the beginning of the end of all our troubles!" It was a long walk from our house to Woolling, and the day was sunny, and the roads. dusty. But I had said only the truth in declaring to my mother that I should like the walk. The air and exercise seemed to calm the excitement of my spirits, and my brain grew clearer, and I was able to think with some calmness. At first it cost me an effort to enforce my wandering attention to the point I had to contemplate-the arguments, namely, which were "I do not despair, mother, of inducing him most likely to avail with Mr. Cudberry, and the to consent. And as to what he will say we probabilities for and against his consenting to must bear it as well as we may. It would be my request. A thousand emotions and images far easier to follow one's conscientious convic- distracted my thoughts, and made my pulse fluttions if all one's friends looked on approvingly. ter. At length, when I reached a point in the But it seems to me that one of the most neces-road where a grassy lane intersected it, shaded sary lessons to learn in life is to bear being by ancient trees, and quite deserted, I turned blamed for doing right." my footsteps aside on to its short, daisy-speckled "But how are you to see Uncle Cudberry? sward, and sitting down on a hillock of moss that How shall I send to him ?" rose around the roots of an elm, I let my tears have way, and cried unrestrainedly. "I will go to Woolling myself. Look here, mother darling; I want the matter to be settled by the time father returns. It will be easier and better for us all if you can meet him with the news that the thing is resolved upon than to leave it to him to broach the subject.' Mother kissed me fondly, but her eyes were full of tears. I was anxious to put an end to the irresolution which I knew would torment her until the matter should be irrevocably settled; and I declared that I would set off at once. "But how are you to go, Anne? The horse is in town; and, even if it were not, Flower is gone, and there is no one to drive you. What shall we do?" Then, having bathed my eyes and face in a little clear runlet that went gliding half-hidden in the long grass beneath the hedge, I arose and walked on, wonderfully refreshed and calmed, and so busied with my purpose that the first stile of the series that led across the Woolling meadows appeared close to me before I had thought I could have arrived within half a mile of it. Here I halted, and held brief debate with myself as to how I had best approach Mr. Cudberry. I had a strong repugnance to entering 1 RÖDENBECK, iii. 365. |