I am now ashamed of such weakness. My misfortune would be so great"in the issue there alluded to, "that I should find worthier resources than tears. Your lot shall be mine: I will not survive either your misfortunes or those of the House I belong to. You may calculate that such is my firm resolution.
"But, after this avowal, allow me to entreat you to look back at what was the pitiable state of your Enemy when you lay before Prag!
It is the sudden whirl of Fortune for both parties. The like can occur again, when one is least expecting it, Caesar was the slave of Pirates; and he became the master of the world. A great genius like yours finds resources even when all is lost; and it is impossible this frenzy can continue. My heart bleeds to think of the poor souls in Preussen [Apraxin and his Christian Cossacks there,--who, it is noted, far excel the Calmuck worshippers of the Dalai-Lama]. What horrid barbarity, the detail of cruelties that go on there! I feel all that you feel on it, my dear Brother. I know your heart, and your sensibility for your subjects.
"I suffer a thousand times more than I can tell you; nevertheless hope does not abandon me. I received your Letter of the 14th by W.
[who W. is, no mortal knows]. What kindness to think of me, who have nothing to give you but a useless affection, which is so richly repaid by yours! I am obliged to finish; but I shall never cease to be, with the most profound respect (TRES-PROFOND RESPECT,"--that, and something still better, if my poor pen were not embarrassed), "your"-- WILHELMINA.
5. FRIEDRICH'S RESPONSE TO THE DISSUASIVES OF VOLTAIRE (Last of the Lamentation-Psalms: "Buttstadt, October 9th").--Voltaire's Dissuasive Letter is a poor Piece; [ OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxvii. 80-85 (LES DELICES, early in September, 1757:
no date given).] not worth giving here. Remarkable only by Friedrich's quiet reception of it; which readers shall now see, as Finis to those Lamentation-Psalms. There is another of them, widely known, which we will omit: the EPITRE TO D'ARGENS; [In
OEuvres de Frederic, xii. 50-56 ("Erfurt, 23d September, 1757 ").] passionate enough, wandering wildly over human life, and sincere almost to shrillness, in parts; which Voltaire has also got hold of. Omissible here; the fixity of purpose being plain otherwise to Voltaire and us. Voltaire's counter-arguments are weak, or worse: "That Roman death is not now expected of the Philosopher; that your Majesty will, in the worst event, still have considerable Dominions left, all that your Great-Grandfather had;still plenty of resources; that, in Paris Society, an estimable minority even now thinks highly of you; that in Paris itself your Majesty [does not say expressly, as dethroned and going on your travels] would have resources!" To which beautiful considerations Friedrich answers, not with fire and brimstone, as one might have dreaded, but in this quiet manner (REPONSE AU SIEUR VOLTAIRE):-- "Je suis homme, il suffit, et ne pour la souffrance;Aux rigueurs du destin j'oppose ma constance.
["I am a man, and therefore born to suffer; to destiny's rigors my steadfastness must correspond."--Quotation from I know not whom.]
But with these sentiments, I am far from condemning Cato and Otho.
The latter had no fine moment in his life, except that of his death. [Breaks off into Verse:]
"Croyez que si j'etais Voltaire, Et particulier comme lui, Me contentant du necessaire, Je verrais voltiger la fortune legere," --Or, to wring the water and the jingle out of it, and give the substance in Prose:--"Yes, if I were Voltaire and a private man, I could with much composure leave Fortune to her whirlings and her plungings; to me, contented with the needful, her mad caprices and sudden topsy-turvyings would be amusing rather than tremendous.
"I know the ennui attending on honors, the burdensome duties, the jargon of grinning flatterers, those pitiabilities of every kind, those details of littleness, with which you have to occupy yourself if set on high on the stage of things. Foolish glory has no charm for me, though a Poet and King: when once Atropos has ended me forever, what will the uncertain honor of living in the Temple of Memory avail? One moment of practical happiness is worth a thousand years of imaginary in such Temple.--Is the lot of high people so very sweet, then? Pleasure, gentle ease, true and hearty mirth, have always fled from the great and their peculiar pomps and labors.
"No, it is not fickle Fortune that has ever caused my sorrows;let her smile her blandest, let her frown her fiercest on me, Ishould sleep every night, refusing her the least worship. But our respective conditions are our law; we are bound and commanded to shape our temper to the employment we have undertaken. Voltaire in his hermitage, in a Country where is honesty and safety, can devote himself in peace to the life of the Philosopher, as Plato has described it. But as to me, threatened with shipwreck, I must consider how, looking the tempest in the face, I can think, can live and can die as a King:-- Pour moi, menace du naufrage, Je dois, en affrontant l'orage, Penser, vivre et mourir en roi."
[ OEuvres, xxiii. 14.]
This is of October 9th; this ends, worthily, the Lamentation-Psalms; work having now turned up, which is a favorable change.
