Voltaire was a setting sun, and that Arnaud was rising. Good-natured friends soon carried the lines to Voltaire. He was in his bed. He jumped out in his shirt, danced about the room with rage, and sent for his passport and his post-horses. It was not difficult to foresee the end of a connection which had such a beginning. "It was in the year 1750 that Voltaire left the great capital, which he was not to see again till, after the lapse of nearly thirty years, he returned, bowed down by extreme old age, to die in the midst of a splendid and ghastly triumph. His reception in Prussia was such as might well have elated a less vain and excitable mind. He wrote to his friends at Paris, that the kindness and the attention with which he had been welcomed surpassed description -that the king was the most amiable of men-that Potsdam was the paradise of philosophers. He was created chamberlain, and received, together with his gold key, the cross of an order, and a patent ensuring to him a pension of eight hundred pounds sterling a-year for life. A hundred and sixty pounds a-year were promised to his niece if she survived him. The royal cooks and coachmen were put at his disposal. He was lodged in the same apartments in which Saxe had lived, when, at the height of power and glory, he visited Prussia. Frederic, indeed, stooped for a time even to use the language of adulation. He pressed to his lips the meagre hand of the little grinning skeleton, whom he regarded as the dispenser of immortal renown. He would add, he said, to the titles which he owed to his ancestors and his sword, another title, derived from his last and proudest acquisition. His style should run thus:-Frederic, King of Prussia, Margrave of Brandenburg, Sovereign Duke of Silesia, Possessor of Voltaire. But even amidst the delights of the honey-moon, Voltaire's sensitive vanity began to take alarm. A few days after his arrival, he could not help telling his niece, that the amiable king had a trick of giving a sly scratch with one hand while patting and stroking with the other. Soon came hints not the less alarming because mysterious. 'The supper parties are delicious. The king is the life of the company. But-I have operas and comedies, reviews and concerts, my studies and books. Butbut-Berlin is fine, the princess charming, the maids of honor handsome. But, "This eccentric friendship was fast cooling. Never had there met two persons so exquisitely fitted to plague each other. Each of them had exactly the fault of which the other was most im patient; and they were, in different ways, the most impatient of mankind. Frederic was frugal, almost niggardly. When he had secured his plaything, he began to think that he had bought it too dear. Voltaire, on the other hand, was greedy, even to the extent of im pudence and knavery; and conceived that the favorite of a monarch who had barrels full of gold and silver laid up in cellars, ought to make a fortune, which a receiver-general might envy. They soon discovered each other's feelings. Both were angry, and a war be gan, in which Frederic stooped to the part of Harpagon, and Voltaire to that of Scapin. It is humiliating to relate, angel: 'I forewarn thee, shun His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope Save Him who reigns above, none can resist.' "We cannot pause to recount how often that rare talent was exercised against rivals worthy of esteem-how often it was used to crush and torture enemies worthy only of silent disdain that the great warrior and statesman which was given of old to the Archgave orders that his guest's allowance of sugar and chocolate should be curtailed. It is, if possible, a still more humiliating fact, that Voltaire indemnified himself by pocketing the waxcandles in the royal ante-chamber. Disputes about money, however, were not the most serious disputes of these extraordinary associates. The sarcasms of the king soon galled the sensitive temper of the poet. D'Arnaud and D'Argens, Guichard and La Métrie, might, for the sake of a morsel of bread, be willing to bear the insolence of a master; but Voltaire was of another order. He knew that he was a poten. tate as well as Frederic; that his European reputation, and his incomparable power of covering whatever he - hated with ridicule, made him an object of dread even to the leaders of armies and the rulers of nations. In truth, of all the intellectual weapons which have ever been wielded by man, the most terrible was the mockery of Voltaire. Bigots and tyrants who had never been moved by the wailing and cursing of millions, turned pale at his name. Principles unassailable by reason, principles which had withstood the fiercest attacks of power, the most valuable truths, the most generous sentiments, the noblest and most graceful images, the purest reputations, the most august institutions, began to look mean and loathsome as soon as that withering smile was turned upon them. To every opponent, however strong in his cause and his talents, in his station and his character, who ventured to encounter the great scoffer, might be addressed the caution how often it was perverted to the more noxious purpose of destroying the last solace of earthly misery, and the last restraint on earthly power. Neither can we pause to tell how often it was used to vindicate justice, humanity, and toleration-the principles of sound philosophy, the principles of free government. Causes of quarrel multiplied fast. Voltaire, who, partly from love of money, and partly from love of excitement, was always fond of stock-jobbing, became implicated in transactions of at least a dubious character. The king was delighted at having such an opportunity to humble his guest; and bitter reproaches and complaints were exchanged. Voltaire, too, was soon at war with the other men of letters who surrounded the king; and this irritated Frederic, who, however, had himself chiefly to blame: for, from that love of tormenting which was in him a ruling passion, he perpetually lavished extravagant praises on small men and bad books, merely in order that he might enjoy the mortification and rage which on such occasions Voltaire took no pains to conceal. His majesty, however, soon had reason to regret the pains which he had taken to kindle jealousy among the members of his household. The whole palace was in a ferment with literary intrigues and cabals. It was to no purpose that the imperial voice, which kept a hundred and sixty thousand soldiers in order, was raised to quiet the contention of the exasperated wits. It was far easier to stir up such a storm than to lull it. Nor was Frederic, in his capacity of wit, by any means without his own share of vexations. He had sent a large quantity of verses to Voltaire, and requested that they might be returned, with remarks and correction. 'See,' exclaimed Voltaire, "what a quantity of his dirty linen the king has sent me to wash!' Talebearers were not wanting to carry the sarcasm to the royal ear; and Frederic was as much incensed as a Grub Street writer who had found his name in the 'Dunciad.' "This could not last. A circumstance which, when the mutual regard of the friends was in its first glow, would merely have been matter for laughter, produced a violent explosion. Maupertuis enjoyed as much of Frederic's good-will as any man of letters. He was president of the Academy of Berlin; and stood second to Voltaire, though at an immense distance, in the literary society which had been assembled at the Prussian court. Frederic had, by playing for his own amusement on the feelings of the two jealous and vainglorious Frenchmen, succeeded in producing a bitter enmity between them. Voltaire resolved to set his mark, a mark never to be effaced, on the forehead of Maupertuis; and wrote the exquisitely ludicrous diatribe of "Doctor Akakia." He showed this little piece to Frederick, who had too much taste and too much malice not to relish such delicious pleasantry. In truth, even at this time of day, it is not easy for any person who has the least perception of the ridiculous to read the jokes on the Latin city, the Patagonians, and the hole to the centre of the earth, without laughing till he cries. But though Frederic was diverted by this charming pasquinade, he was unwilling that it should get abroad. His self-love was interested. He had selected Maupertuis to fill the chair of his Academy. If all Europe were taught to laugh at Maupertuis, would not the reputation of the Aca demy, would not even the dignity of its royal patron, be in some degree compromised? The king, therefore, begged Voltaire to suppress his performance. Voltaire promised to do so, and broke his word. The diatribe was published, and received with shouts of merriment and applause by all who could read the French language. The king stormed. Voltaire, with his usual disregard of truth, protested his innocence, and made up some lie about a printer or an amanuensis. The king was not to be so imposed upon. He ordered the pamphlet to be burned by the common hangman, and insisted upon having an apology from Voltaire, couched in the most abject terms. Voltaire sent back to the king his cross, his key, and the patent of his pension. After this burst of rage, the strange pair began to be ashamed of their violence, and went through the forms of reconciliation. But the breach was irreparable; and Voltaire took his leave of Frederic for ever. They parted with cold civility; but their hearts were big with resentment. Voltaire had in his keeping a volume of the king's poetry, and forgot to return it. This was, we believe, merely one of the oversights which men setting out upon a journey often commit. That Voltaire could have meditated plagiarism is quite incredible. He would not, we are confident, for the half of Frederic's kingdom, have consented to father Frederic's verses. The king, however, who rated his own writings much above their value, and who was inclined to see all Voltaire's actions in the worst light, was enraged to think that his favorite compositions were in the hands of an enemy, as thievish as a daw and as mischievous as a monkey. In the anger excited by this thought, he lost sight of reason and decency, and determined on committing an outrage at once odious and ridiculous. "Voltaire had reached Frankfort. His niece, Madam Denis, came thither to meet him. He conceived himself secure from the power of his late master, when he was arrested by order of the Prussian resident. The precious volume was delivered up. But the Prussian agents had, no doubt, been instructed not to let Voltaire escape without some gross indignity. He was confined twelve days in a wretched hovel. Sentinels with fixed bayonets kept guard over him. His niece was dragged through the mire by the soldiers. Sixteen hundred dollars were extorted from him by his insolent jailers. It is absurd to say that this outrage is not to be attri buted to the king. Was anybody punished for it? Was anybody called in question for it? Was it not consistent with Frederic's character? Was it not of a piece with his conduct on other similar occasions? Is it not notorious that he repeatedly gave private directions to his officers to pillage and demolish the houses of persons against whom he had a grudge-charging them at the same time to take their meas ures in such a way that his name might not be compromised? He acted thus towards Count Buhl in the Seven Years' War. Why should we believe that he would have been more scrupulous with regard to Voltaire?" In Turning from this exhibition of dis creditable royal vanity and meanness, we may with more satisfaction look upon the service of Frederic to the state in its civil as well as military development, and study the real greatness of this extraordinary man. the cause of education he was active, both by favoring the universities, to which he sought to secure the services of the best professors, and by the establishment of schools wherever the circumstances of the neighborhood It is said rendered it desirable. that he sometimes founded as many as sixty schools in a single year. This period of his reign is also marked by the commencement of that revision of the Prussian law (a confused and corrupt mixture of Roman and Saxon jurisprudence) which led to the substitution of an entirely new code. In this important business the Chancellor Cocceii took the lead; but the system established by him underwent considerable alterations from time to time, and at last was remodel- punishments, and was always strongly led in 1781. For the particular merits averse to shedding blood. To his subor imperfections of the code, the law- jects, both in person and by letter, he yers who drew it up are answerable, was always accessible, and to the peasrather than the monarch; but the lat-antry in particular he displayed paterter possesses the high honor of having nal kindness, patience, and condescenproved himself, in this and other in- sion. But, on the other hand, his milistances, sincerely desirous to assure to tary system was frightfully severe, his subjects a pure and ready adminis- both in its usual discipline and in its tration of justice. Sometimes this de- punishments. Numbers of soldiers desire joined to a certain love and habit serted, or put an end to their lives, or of personal inquiry into all things, led committed crimes that they might be the king to a meddling and mischiev- given up to justice. Yet his kindness ous interference with the course of jus- and familiarity in the field, and his tice; but in all cases his intention seems fearless exposure of his own person, to have been pure, and his conduct endeared him exceedingly to his solproves him sincere in the injunction to diers, and many pleasing anecdotes, his judges:-"If a suit arises between honorable to both parties, are preme and one of my subjects, and the served, especially during the camcase is a doubtful one, you should al- paigns of the Seven Years' War. ways decide against me." If, as in the celebrated imprisonment of Baron Trenck, he chose to perform an arbitrary action, he did it openly, not by tampering with courts of justice: but these despotic measures were not frequent, and few countries have ever enjoyed a fuller practical license of speech and printing, than Prussia under a simply despotic form of government, administered by a prince naturally of impetuous passions and stern and unforgiving temper. That temper, however, was kept admirably within bounds, and seldom suffered to appear in civil affairs. His code is remarkable for the abolition of torture, and the toleration granted to all religions. The latter enactment, however, required no great share of liberality from Frederic, who avowed his indifference to all religions alike. In criminal cases he was opposed to severe During this peace Austria had recruited her strength, and with it her inveterate hostility to Prussia; and it became known to Frederic that a secret agreement for the conquest and partition of his territories existed between Austria, Russia, and Saxony. The circumstances of the times were such that, though neither France nor England were cordially disposed towards him, it was yet open to him to negotiate an negotiate an alliance with either. Frederic chose that of England; and France, forgetting ancient enmities, and her obvious political interest, immediately took part with Austria. The odds of force apparently were overwhelming; but, having made up his mind, the King of Prussia dis played his usual promptitude. demanded an explanation of the views of the court of Vienna, and, on receiv ing an unsatisfactory answer, signified He |