History of Friedrich II of Prussia, vol 21 | Page 5

Revolt against
Authorities was what Friedrich and Voltaire had never dreamed of as
possible, and had not in their minds the least idea of. In one, or perhaps
two places you may find in Voltaire a grim and rather glad forethought,
not given out as prophecy, but felt as interior assurance in a moment of
hope, How these Priestly Sham Hierarchies will be pulled to pieces,
probably on the sudden, once people are awake to them. Yes, my
much-suffering M. de Voltaire, be pulled to pieces; or go aloft, like the
awakening of Vesuvius, one day,--Vesuvius awakening after ten
centuries of slumber, when his crater is all grown grassy, bushy,
copiously "tenanted by wolves" I am told; which, after premonitory
grumblings, heeded by no wolf or bush, he will hurl bodily aloft, ten
acres at a time, in a very tremendous manner! [First modern Eruption of
Vesuvius, A.D. 1631, after long interval of rest.] A thought like this,
about the Priestly Sham-Hierarchies, I have found somewhere in
Voltaire: but of the Social and Civic Sham-Hierarchies (which are
likewise accursed, if they knew it, and indeed are junior co-partners of
the Priestly; and, in a sense, sons and products of them, and cannot
escape being partakers of their plagues), there is no hint, in Voltaire,
though Voltaire stood at last only fifteen years from the Fact

(1778-1793); nor in Friedrich, though he lived almost to see the Fact
beginning.
Friedrich's History being henceforth that of a Prussian King, is
interesting to Prussia chiefly, and to us little otherwise than as the
Biography of a distinguished fellow-man, Friedrich's Biography, his
Physiognomy as he grows old, quietly on his own harvest-field, among
his own People: this has still an interest, and for any feature of this we
shall be eager enough; but this withal is the most of what we now want.
And not very much even of this; Friedrich the unique King not having
as a man any such depth and singularity, tragic, humorous, devotionally
pious, or other, as to authorize much painting in that aspect. Extreme
brevity beseems us in these circumstances: and indeed there are,--as has
already happened in different parts of this Enterprise (Nature herself, in
her silent way, being always something of an Artist in such
things),--other circumstances, which leave us no choice as to that of
detail. Available details, if we wished to give them, of Friedrich's later
Life, are not forthcoming: masses of incondite marine-stores, tumbled
out on you, dry rubbish shot with uncommon diligence for a hundred
years, till, for Rubbish-Pelion piled on Rubbish-Ossa, you lose sight of
the stars and azimuths; whole mountain continents, seemingly all of
cinders and sweepings (though fragments and remnants do lie hidden,
could you find them again):---these are not details that will be available!
Anecdotes there are in quantity; but of uncertain quality; of doubtful
authenticity, above all. One recollects hardly any Anecdote whatever
that seems completely credible, or renders to us the Physiognomy of
Friedrich in a convincing manner. So remiss a creature has the Prussian
Clio been,--employed on all kinds of loose errands over the Earth and
the Air; and as good as altogether negligent of this most pressing errand
in her own House. Peace be with her, poor slut; why should we say one
other hard word on taking leave of her to all eternity!--
The Practical fact is, what we have henceforth to produce is more of the
nature of a loose Appendix of Papers, than of a finished Narrative.
Loose Papers,--which, we will hope, the reader can, by industry, be
made to understand and tolerate: more we cannot do for him. No
continuous Narrative is henceforth possible to us. For the sake of

Friedrich's closing Epoch, we will visit, for the last time, that dreary
imbroglio under which the memory of Friedrich, which ought to have
been, in all the epochs of it, bright and legible, lies buried; and will try
to gather, as heretofore, and put under labels. What dwells with oneself
as human may have some chance to be humanly interesting. In the
wildest chaos of marine- stores and editorial shortcomings (provided
only the editors speak truth, as these poor fellows do) THIS can be
done. Part the living from the dead; pick out what has some meaning,
leave carefully what has none; you will in some small measure pluck
up the memory of a hero, like drowned honor by the locks, and rescue
it, into visibility.
That Friedrich, on reaching home, made haste to get out, of the bustle
of joyances and exclamations on the streets; proceeded straight to his
music-chapel in Charlottenburg, summoning the Artists, or having
them already summoned; and had there, all alone, sitting invisible
wrapt in his cloak, Graun's or somebody's grand TE-DEUM pealed out
to him, in seas