It was the just boast of Schiller that, in his country, no Augustus, no Lorenzo, had watched over the infancy of poetry.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.The associates of his hours of relaxation were, for the most part, foreigners.Britain furnished to the royal circle two distinguished men, born in the highest rank, and driven by civil dissensions from the land to which, under happier circumstances, their talents and virtues might have been a source of strength and glory.George Keith, Earl Marischal of Scotland, had taken arms for the House of Stuart in 1715; and his younger brother James, then only seventeen years old, had fought gallantly by his side.When all was lost they retired together to the Continent, roved from country to country, served under various standards, and so bore themselves as to win the respect and good-will of many who had no love for the Jacobite cause.
Their long wanderings terminated at Potsdam; nor had Frederic any associates who deserved or obtained so large a share of his esteem.They were not only accomplished men, but nobles and warriors, capable of serving him in war and diplomacy, as well as of amusing him at supper.Alone of all his companions, they appear never to have had reason to complain of his demeanour towards them.Some of those who knew the palace best pronounced that the Lord Marischal was the only human being whom Frederic ever really loved.
Italy sent to the parties at Potsdam the ingenious and amiable Algarotti, and Bastiani, the most crafty, cautious, and servile of Abbes.But the greater part of the society which Frederic had assembled round him, was drawn from France.Maupertuis had acquired some celebrity by the journey which he had made to Lapland, for the purpose of ascertaining, by actual measurement, the shape of our planet.He was placed in the chair of the Academy of Berlin, a humble imitation of the renowned academy of Paris.Baculard D'Arnaud, a young poet, who was thought to have given promise of great things, had been induced to quit his country, and to reside at the Prussian Court.The Marquess D'Argens was among the King's favourite companions, on account, as it should seem, of the strong opposition between their characters.The parts of D'Argens were good, and his manners those of a finished French gentleman; but his whole soul was dissolved in sloth, timidity, and self-indulgence.He 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 table with thirteen in company, turned pale if the salt fell towards 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.
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.He 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 ail who sat at meat with him.There was, therefore, at these parties 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 freethinkers.Real liberty, however, 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 whom he desired to please, were even caressing.No man could flatter with more delicacy.No man succeeded more completely in inspiring those who approached him with vague hopes of some great advantage from his kindness.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 by a man of mature age and strong understanding, is almost invariably the sign of a bad heart--a taste for severe practical jokes.If a courtier was fond of dress, oil was flung over his richest suit.
