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in vital strength, and enabled him to recover promptly and completely from such attacks. When sick, he invariably became far more gentle and forbearing to all around him; and thus also, as we are told by his chief valet-de-chambre, Schöning, the surest sign of his convalescence was his ill treatment of those with whom he had seemed well satisfied during his sickness. In August, 1785, when the King was directing the annual review in Silesia, in the presence of many foreign generals and princes, the weather became cold and stormy, and he was earnestly entreated to forbear from appearing on the ground. But Frederick was determined never until the last necessity to relax from a single one of his Kingly duties; accordingly he sat on horseback to see the troops defile during six hours of heavy rain, and on his return home was seized with fever and ague. These for the time he shook off; but, through the whole of the ensuing winter, his health grew subject to daily variation; many slight attacks soon recovered from, but ever again recurring.

It is probable, however, that his life might have been prolonged during several years, had he been only willing to use some degree of prudence and restraint in his diet; but on this most tender subject he would hearken to no counsel. Thus, for instance, while at Breslau after his short campaign of 1778, he was suffering severely from colic and indigestion; and his physician, Dr. Möhsen, ventured to intimate, with the utmost deference and humility, that it might be better for his Majesty to abstain from Parmesan cheese in his favourite polentas until after his Majesty's stomach had by proper remedies recovered its tone. 'Alle Teufel!' cried the King, with a loud and angry voice, 'are you reprimanding me? Get you gone, I have no further occasiou for you!' Poor Dr. Möhsen hastened back to Berlin with all precipitation, and greatly discomfited. Nearly in the same way it fared with his successor, Dr. Selle, at the commencement of the King's last illness. In other respects likewise he was a far from tractable patient. As in state-affairs he would take nothing on trust, but required to have everything made clear to his own perception; and he expected from any medicine some decisive and speedy effects-otherwise, the medicine itself was soon discarded.

Under these circumstances the King grew worse and worse in the first months of 1786. He was often sleepless at nights, but, on the other hand, would fall into short and uneasy slumbers by day. His strength was so far reduced that he could only ride occasionally, and when lifted on his horse. A short dry cough set in, and his breathing became so difficult that he could not lie down in bed, but only sit through the twenty-four hours bending forwards

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forwards on the same arm-chair. Symptoms of dropsy also began to show themselves both in his body and his limbs.

With all this, however, the King's activity and zeal in transacting business never for one moment abated. He continued to read every despatch and memorial, to dictate and sign his answers, and to carry on all the current business for the public good with the same punctuality and clearness as ever. Such was the intention which he had long ago expressed in his Epitre au Maréchal Keith :'

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'Oui, finissons sans trouble, et mourons sans regrets,
En laissant l'univers comblé de nos bienfaits;
Ainsi l'astre du jour au bout de sa carrière
Répand sur l'horison une douce lumière,
Et ses derniers rayons qu'il darde dans les airs,
Sont ses derniers soupirs qu'il donne à l'univers.'

This is the only piece of poetry by Frederick with which we intend to trouble our readers, and we think that they will be inclined to forgive its poverty of versification and confusion of metaphor (sunbeams turned into sighs!) for the sake of its noble and lofty sentimenta sentiment, be it observed, not merely put forth in high health thirty years before, but courageously fulfilled and carried through when there came the hour of trial.

Nor yet, amidst all his suffering, did his gaiety and love of jest forsake him. When the Duke of Courland came to see him at this period, the King asked him whether he stood in need of a good watchman, for if so,' added his Majesty, allow me to offer myself, being well qualified for such a post by my sleeplessness at nights.'

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Finding little benefit from medicine, and unwilling to try abstinence, Frederick placed his own hopes on the return of fine weather, and as the spring advanced often caused himself to be set in a chair on the sunny side of the palace to inhale the balmy air. But no real improvement having ensued, the King, in the course of June, wrote to summon from Hanover the celebrated Swiss physician, Dr. Zimmermann. Accordingly, Zimmermann came, and on a careful consideration of the symptoms, prescribed as a stomachic the daily use of the Extract of Taraxicum-the common meadow Dandelion. But he heard with dismay, from the valet-de-chambre Schöning, how great continued to be the King's errors of diet. The most indigestible dishes,' said Schöning, are the favourites with his Majesty; and whenever he is prevailed upon by a physician to try any medicine, he does not on that account put any restraint on his immoderate eating.' The truth

truth of such accounts was soon apparent to Dr. Zimmermann from his own observation. We will give in his very words his report of the King's dinner on the 30th of June:

This day the King took a very large quantity of soup, and this consisted, as usual with him, of the very strongest and most highly spiced ingredients; yet, spiced as it was already, he added to each plate of it a large spoonful of pounded ginger and mace. His Majesty then ate a good piece of bœuf à la Russe-beef which had been steeped in half a quart of brandy. Next he took a great quantity of an Italian dish, which is made half of Indian corn and half of Parmesan cheese; to this the juice of garlic is added, and the whole is baked in butter until there arises a hard rind as thick as a finger. This, one of the King's most darling dishes, is named Polenta. At last,' continues Zimmermann, the King, having expressed his satisfaction at the excellent appetite which the Dandelion gave him, closed the scene with a whole plateful of eel-pie, which was so hot and fiery that it seemed as though it had been baked in Hell! Even before leaving the table on this occasion he fell into a doze, and was seized with convulsions. At other times again,' adds the Doctor, the King would eat a large quantity of chilling and unwholesome fruits, especially melons, and then again a vast number of sweetmeats.'

With such irregularities on the part of a septuagenary invalid— still persevered in, notwithstanding all Dr. Zimmermann's warnings-our readers will not be surprised to learn that his ailments during the month of July became greatly aggravated, and that every hope of amendment, or even alleviation to them, disappeared. The last time that he mounted Condé was on the 4th of July, when he was with great difficulty placed in his saddle, and after a short gallop manifested extreme exhaustion.

Through the whole of his long illness there was no word or deed of the King which referred to religious feelings, or betokened any idea of a future state. All his thoughts apparently were of this earth-to fulfil his Royal duties and also enjoy his personal pleasures to the last. On one occasion, when he received a letter from some zealous persons urging his conversion, he handed the letter to one of his Secretaries for reply, merely saying with unusual gentleness, They should be answered kindly, for they mean well!'

Frederick does not appear, during his last illness, to have seen or wished to see any member of his family; but almost every evening he received as usual his circle of literary friends. He never wearied them with complaints of his painful state, nor even mentioned it, but conversed cheerfully on the events of the day, and on various points of history and horticulture, literature and philosophy. He also continued both to read himself and be read to. The last works which he perused were a History of Henry

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IV. of France;' the 'Siècle de Louis XV.' by Voltaire; and the 'Twelve Cæsars' of Suetonius as translated by La Harpe.

Conscious as was Frederick of his daily declining health, and hopeless as his state had now become, it is not clear how far he was himself aware of his near approaching dissolution. On the 10th of August he wrote as follows to his sister, the Duchess of Brunswick :—

'MON ADORABLE SŒUR-Le Médecin de Hanovre [Zimmermann] a voulu se faire valoir chez vous, ma bonne sœur; mais la vérité est qu'il m'a été inutile. Les vieux doivent faire place aux jeunes gens pour que chaque génération trouve sa place; et à bien examiner ce que c'est que la vie, c'est voir mourir et naître ses compatriotes. En attendant, je me trouve un peu soulagé depuis quelques jours. Mon cœur vous reste inviolablement attaché, ma bonne sœur. Avec la plus haute considération, je suis, etc., FEDERIC.'

Next day, however, we find the King, as if in expectation of a longer life, dictate a letter to the bookseller Pitra, for a supply of new publications to his library in the ensuing year.

To the last, Frederick displayed the same unconquerable application, the same ardent zeal for the improvement of his states. Thus, on the 1st of August, we may observe that he dictated both instructions and inquiries as the first step towards the reclaiming of a large morass near Tilsit. To the last, also, there continued the same care and thought for the gratification of his palate. Some of the daily bills of fare laid before him within a fortnight of his death, and corrected by his own hand, are still preserved. Thus on the 4th of August, one of the dishes proposed to him was Des gateaux à la Rothenbourg, to be executed by one of his culinary artists with the classic name of Dionysius; but on reflection his Majesty deemed it better to substitute another dish and another cook to dress it. Accordingly he effaced the names which we have just quoted, and wrote upon the margin: Gosset-Filet de Poulets au Basilic; mais que la sauce ne soit pas trop épaisse.'

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On the morning of the 15th, Frederick, far contrary to his usual habit, dosed till eleven o'clock; then, however, he received his Cabinet-Secretaries, and gave them directions with a feeble voice, but with his customary clearness. He also drew out for General von Rohdich, the Commandant of Potsdam, a plan of some manœuvres which he wished the garrison to execute on the morrow-a plan perfectly accurate, and well adapted to the ground. At dinner he ate half a lobster, the last food which passed his lips. In the afternoon he fell into a kind of stupor, which continued more or less through the night. Early on the 16th a rattle was heard in his throat, and he seemed at the very

point of death. When it was announced to him, as usual, that the Cabinet-Secretaries had come, and were ready in the antechamber, he could scarcely gasp out words to desire that they should wait, and that he would see them presently. They remained outside, but in the course of the morning General Von Rohdich entered his room. As that officer appeared before him, it was painful to observe how the dying Monarch strove to collect his failing energy and fulfil his daily task; how he laboured, but all in vain, to raise his drooping head from the corner of his chair, to fix his glassy eye, and to move his speechless tongue. The General put up his papers, and withdrew in silence, with a handkerchief before his face. When, in the afternoon, at the desire of the Prince of Prussia, Dr. Selle came from Berlin, he found that his Royal Patient had slightly rallied, being able to stir a few steps, and articulate a few words;-but for the first time during his long reign, he never mentioned, and seemed to have forgotten, the current business, not yet despatched, of the day—a surer symptom than any other, observed Dr. Selle, of his close approaching dissolution. About seven o'clock the King had a short but quiet and refreshing interval of sleep. As the clock placed above his head struck eleven, he inquired the hour, and on being told, he added, 'At four o'clock I will rise.' About midnight his Majesty observed that his favourite dog had sprung from the allotted cushion by his side, upon which he inquired where he was, and desired that he might be put back again. These were the last words he spoke. Soon after the rattle in his throat returned, his breathing grew fainter and fainter, and at twenty minutes past two on the morning of the 17th of August he expired. He was seventy-four years and six months of age.

It is remarkable that during all this time-so strict was the discipline in the Royal Household-the King's imminent danger remained a secret not only to most of the Foreign Ministers at Berlin, but also to most members of the Royal Family. Even on the 16th, when the King was at the last extremity, the Queen gave an afternoon party at Schönhausen. Mirabeau, who had just returned from a visit to Prince Henry at Rheinsberg, was present, and states that the Envoy of France was by no means aware of the crisis being so near at hand, and that the Queen herself was equally unconscious. In Mirabeau's own words, La Reine ne s'en doutait pas; elle ne me parla que de mon habit, de Rheinsberg, et du bonheur qu'elle y avait goûté étant Princesse Royale.'* Thus was her Majesty talking of her honeymoon in the last hours of her married life!

* Histoire Secrète de Berlin, vol. i. p. 84, ed, 1789.

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