thwarted very often; but it advances steadily, with consciousness or not, in the way of well-doing; and after long times the harvest of this diligent sowing becomes manifest to the Nation and to all Nations.

Strange as it sounds in the Republic of Letters, we are tempted to call Friedrich Wilhelm a man of genius — genius fated and promoted to work in National Husbandry, not in writing Verses or three-volume Novels. A silent genius. His melodious stanza, which he cannot bear to see halt in any syllable, is a rough fact reduced to order-fact made to stand firm on its feet, with the world rocks under it, and looking free towards all the winds and all the stars. He goes about suppressing platitudes, ripping off futilities, turning deceptions inside out. The realm of Disorder, which is Unveracity, Unreality, what we call Chaos, has no fiercer enemy. Honest soul, and he seemed to himself such a stupid fellow often, no tongue learning at all, little capable to give a reason for the faith that was in him. He cannot argue in articulate logic, only in inarticulate bellowings, or worse. He must do a thing, leave it undemonstrated; once done, it will itself tell what kind of thing it is, by and by. Men of genius have a hard time, I perceive, whether born on the throne or off it, and must expect contradictions next to unendurable- the plurality of blockheads being so extreme! . . .

He was full of sensitiveness, rough as he was and shaggy of skin. His wild imaginations drove him hither and thither at a sad rate. He ought to have the privileges of genius. His tall Potsdam Regiment, his mad-looking passion for enlisting tall men; this also seems to me one of the whims of genius an exaggerated notion to have his "stanza" polished to the last punctilio of perfection, and might be paralleled in the history of Poets. Stranger "man of genius," or in more peculiar circumstances, the world never saw !

Friedrich Wilhelm, in his Crown-Prince days, and now still more when he was himself in the sovereign place, had seen all along, with natural arithmetical intellect, That his strength in this world, as at present situated, would very much depend upon the amount of potential battle that lay in him, on the quantity and quality of Soldiers he could maintain and have ready for the field at any time. A most indisputable truth, and a heart-felt one in the present instance. To augment the quantity, to improve the quality, in this thrice-essential partic

ular here lay the keystone and crowning summit of all Friedrich Wilhelm's endeavors, to which he devoted himself, as only the best Spartan could have done. Of which there will be other opportunities to speak in detail. For it was a thing world-notable, world-laughable, as was then thought, the extremely serious fruit of which did at length also become notable enough.

In the Malplaquet time, once on some occasion, it is said, two English Officers, not well informed upon the matter, and provoking enough in their contemptuous ignorance, were reasoning with one another in Friedrich Wilhelm's hearing, as to the warlike powers of the Prussian State, and Whether the King of Prussia could on his own strength maintain a standing army of 15,000? Without subsidies, do you think, so many as 15,000? Friedrich Wilhelm, incensed at the thing and at the tone, is reported to have said with heat, "Yes, 30,000!" whereat the military men slightly wagged their heads, letting the matter drop for the present. But he makes it good by degrees, twofold or threefold; and will have an army of from seventy to a hundred thousand before he dies, the best drilled of fighting men; and what adds much to the wonder, a full Treasury withal. This is the Brandenburg Spartan King, acquainted with National Economics. Alone of existing Kings he lays by money annually; and is laying by many other and far more precious things for Prussia and the little Boy he has here.

Friedrich Wilhelm's passion for drilling, recruiting, and perfecting his army attracted much notice: laughing satirical notice, in the hundred mouths of common rumor, which he regarded little; and notice iracund and minatory, when it led him into collision with the independent portions of mankind, now and then. This latter sort was not pleasant, and sometimes looked rather serious; but this, too, he contrived always to digest in some tolerable manner. He continued drilling and recruiting,—we may say not his Army only, but his Nation in all departments of it, as no man before or since ever did: increasing, by every devisable method, the amount of potential battle that lay in him and it.

In a military, and also in a much deeper, sense, he may be defined as the great Drill-sergeant of the Prussian Nation. Indeed, this had been the function of the Hohenzollerns all along this difficult, unpleasant, and indispensable one of

drilling. This has been going on these Three-hundred years. But Friedrich Wilhelm completes the process, finishes it off to the last pitch of perfection. Friedrich Wilhelm carries it through every fiber and cranny of Prussian Business, and, so far as possible, of Prussian Life; so that Prussia is all a drilled phalanx, ready to the word of command; and what we see in the Army is but the last consummate essence of what exists in the Nation everywhere. That was Friedrich Wilhelm's function, made ready for him, laid to his hand by his Hohenzollern foregoers; and indeed it proved a most beneficent function.

For I have remarked that, of all things, a Nation needs first to be drilled; and no Nation that has not first been governed by so-called "Tyrants," and held tight to the curb till it became perfect in its paces and thoroughly amenable to rule and law, and heartily respectful of the same, and totally abhorrent of the want of the same, ever came to much in this world. England itself, in foolish quarters of England, still howls and execrates lamentably over its William Conqueror, and rigorous line of Normans and Plantagenets; but without them, if you will consider well, what had it ever been? A gluttonous race of Jutes and Angles, capable of no grand combinations; lumbering about in pot-bellied equanimity; not dreaming of heroic toil and silence and endurance, such as leads to the high places of this Universe, and the golden mountain tops where dwell the Spirits of the Dawn. Their very ballot boxes and suffrages, what they call their "Liberty," if these mean "Liberty," and are such a road to Heaven, Anglo-Saxon highroad thither, could never have been possible for them on such terms. How could they? Nothing but collision, intolerable interpressure (as of men not perpendicular), and consequent battle often supervening, could have been appointed those undrilled Anglo-Saxons; their pot-bellied equanimity itself continuing liable to perpetual interruptions, as in the Heptarchy time. An enlightened Public does not reflect on these things at present; but will again, by and by. Looking with human eyes over the England that now is, and over the America and the Australia, from pole to pole; and then listening to the Constitutional litanies of Dryasdust, and his lamentations on the old Norman and Plantagenet Kings, and his recognition of departed merit and causes of effects, - the mind of man is struck dumb!

II. FROM THE DIARY OF WILHELMINE OF BAYREUTH.

[WILHELMINE, the favorite sister of Frederick the Great, was born in 1709; married the Margrave of Bayreuth in 1731; and died in 1758. Her memoirs were published in 1810.]

ON THE evening of the 12th of August, as my mother was sitting near Mademoiselle von Bülow, and taking off her headdress, they heard a terrible noise in my mother's boudoir. This room was beautifully decorated with china, some pieces being most rare, and embossed with crystal and precious stones. All the crown plate, too, and my mother's jewel case, were kept in this room. The queen at once exclaimed that all her china had been broken, and that it must be looked after. Mademoiselle von Bülow and three maids immediately entered the boudoir, but they found everything in order and nothing broken. The noise was repeated three times, and they also heard a great disturbance in the corridor connecting the king and queen's rooms, at the end of which sentinels were always posted. The queen said, "I cannot stand this: I must go myself and see what is the matter." Upon this the queen, Mademoiselle von Bülow, and the maids each took a candle and stepped out into the corridor. As they did so they heard sighing and groaning close to them, but could discover nobody. They asked the sentinels if they had seen anything, and they answered, No, but they had heard the same noise. My mother, who was very courageous, caused every nook and corner to be searched, even the king's rooms, but nothing whatever was discovered.

A few days afterwards the queen gave a concert. I generally accompanied on the piano and guitar, and every amateur in Berlin was present. When I had played long enough, I rose to go into another room, where some ladies were playing at cards. I was suddenly stopped by Katt, who said to me, "For God's sake, and for the love you bear your brother, listen to me for a moment. I am distracted. I have been calumniated to the queen and to yourself, and you have been made to believe that I have put the idea of flight into the crown prince's head. I swear to your Royal Highness, by all that is most holy, the whole plan was settled long before I knew anything of it. You can assure the queen most emphatically from me that I have written to him, and told him that if he carries out

his intention I shall not follow him. But there is nothing to fear this time: I will answer for it with my head."

"I already see your head shaking," I replied, "and fear it will soon be lying at your feet. What pleasure can it have afforded you to have proclaimed everywhere that my brother had the intention of taking flight? And who allowed you to have a snuffbox with my portrait on it?"

Katt then answered me, "As regards your first question, I merely mentioned your brother's idea to M. von Lövner, and a few others whom I knew I could trust; then as to your second remark I did not think it such a serious matter to have shown a portrait of you which I had myself painted."

"You are playing a dangerous game," I replied, "and I fear that I shall prove but too true a prophet."

He grew very pale, and answered, "Well, if misfortune is to be my fate, then it will be in a good cause, and I know that the crown prince will never desert me."

This was my last conversation with Katt, and I never saw him again. I had not thought that I could so truly have foretold what was in store for him, and I said it then only to make him more modest and discreet.

The next day was the 15th of August, the king's birthday, and every one came to congratulate my mother. On such occasions the Court was very numerously attended. I had another long conversation with Grumkow. He had got rid of his fit of moroseness, and held forth at length on my father's many great qualities. He finished up the conversation by saying, "I shall soon have an opportunity of proving to your Royal Highness how truly I am devoted to you." He said this in such a marked manner that I could not make out what he meant by it.

The queen had prepared a fête at Monbijou for the next day, which was to be a surprise for us all. It was also to celebrate a second time the king's birthday. I shall never forget this day. My mother had arranged the supper table most beautifully, and each guest found a charming little present under his napkin. We were all in the highest spirits, except Countess Finkenstein and Mademoiselle von Bülow, who never uttered a word. After supper there was a ball, and as I loved dancing I enjoyed myself to my heart's content. Mademoiselle von Bülow said several times, "It is late, I wish the dancing would stop!" to which I replied, "Oh, do let me have the