No More Learning

Soon afterwards Mr. Cheynel was admitted to the degree of bachelor of
divinity, for which his grace had been denied him in 1641, and, as he
then suffered for an ill-timed assertion of the presbyterian
doctrines, he obtained that his degree should be dated from the time
at which he was refused it; an honour which, however, did not secure
him from being soon after publickly reproached as a madman.

But the vigour of Cheynel was thought, by his companions, to deserve
profit, as well as honour; and Dr. Bailey, the president of St. John's
college, being not more obedient to the authority of the parliament
than the rest, was deprived of his revenues and authority, with which
Mr. Cheynel was immediately invested; who, with his usual coolness and
modesty, took possession of the lodgings soon after by breaking open
the doors.

This preferment being not thought adequate to the deserts or abilities
of Mr. Cheynel, it was, therefore, desired, by the committee of
parliament, that the visiters would recommend him to the lectureship
of divinity, founded by the lady Margaret. To recommend him, and to
choose, was, at that time, the same; and he had now the pleasure of
propagating his darling doctrine of predestination, without
interruption, and without danger.

Being thus flushed with power and success, there is little reason for
doubting that he gave way to his natural vehemence, and indulged
himself in the utmost excesses of raging zeal, by which he was,
indeed, so much distinguished, that, in a satire mentioned by Wood, he
is dignified by the title of archvisiter; an appellation which he
seems to have been industrious to deserve by severity and
inflexibility; for, not contented with the commission which he and his
colleagues had already received, he procured six or seven of the
members of parliament to meet privately in Mr. Rouse's lodgings, and
assume the style and authority of a committee, and from them obtained
a more extensive and tyrannical power, by which the visitors were
enabled to force the _solemn league and covenant_, and the
_negative oath_ upon all the members of the university, and to
prosecute those for a contempt who did not appear to a citation, at
whatever distance they might be, and whatever reasons they might
assign for their absence.

By this method he easily drove great numbers from the university,
whose places he supplied with men of his own opinion, whom he was very
industrious to draw from other parts, with promises of making a
liberal provision for them out of the spoils of hereticks and
malignants.

Having, in time, almost extirpated those opinions which he found so
prevalent at his arrival, or, at least, obliged those, who would not
recant, to an appearance of conformity, he was at leisure for
employments which deserve to be recorded with greater commendation.
About this time, many socinian writers began to publish their notions
with great boldness, which the presbyterians, considering as heretical
and impious, thought it necessary to confute; and, therefore, Cheynel,
who had now obtained his doctor's degree, was desired, in 1649, to
write a vindication of the doctrine of the Trinity, which he
performed, and published the next year.

He drew up, likewise, a confutation of some socinian tenets advanced
by John Fry, a man who spent great part of his life in ranging from
one religion to another, and who sat as one of the judges on the king,
but was expelled afterwards from the house of commons, and disabled
from sitting in parliament. Dr. Cheynel is said to have shown himself
evidently superiour to him in the controversy, and was answered by him
only with an opprobrious book against the presbyterian clergy.

Of the remaining part of his life, there is found only an obscure and
confused account. He quitted the presidentship of St. John's, and the
professorship, in 1650, as Calamy relates, because he would not take
the engagement; and gave a proof that he could suffer, as well as act,
in a cause which he believed just. We have, indeed, no reason to
question his resolution, whatever occasion might be given to exert it;
nor is it probable that he feared affliction more than danger, or that
he would not have borne persecution himself for those opinions which
inclined him to persecute others.

He did not suffer much upon this occasion; for he retained the living
of Petworth, to which he, thenceforward, confined his labours, and
where he was very assiduous, and, as Calamy affirms, very successful
in the exercise of his ministry, it being his peculiar character to be
warm and zealous in all his undertakings.

This heat of his disposition, increased by the uncommon turbulence of
the times in which he lived, and by the opposition to which the
unpopular nature of some of his employments exposed him, was, at last,
heightened to distraction, so that he was, for some years, disordered
in his understanding, as both Wood and Calamy relate, but with such
difference as might be expected from their opposite principles. Wood
appears to think, that a tendency to madness was discoverable in a
great part of his life; Calamy, that it was only transient and
accidental, though, in his additions to his first narrative, he pleads
it, as an extenuation of that fury with which his kindest friends
confess him to have acted on some occasions. Wood declares, that he
died little better than distracted; Calamy, that he was perfectly
recovered to a sound mind, before the restoration, at which time he
retired to Preston, a small village in Sussex, being turned out of his
living at Petworth.

It does not appear that he kept his living till the general ejection
of the nonconformists; and it is not unlikely that the asperity of his
carriage, and the known virulence of his temper, might have raised him
enemies, who were willing to make him feel the effects of persecution,
which he had so furiously incited against others; but of this incident
of his life there is no particular account.

After his deprivation, he lived, till his death, which happened in
1665, at a small village near Chichester, upon a paternal estate, not
augmented by the large preferments wasted upon him in the triumphs of
his party; having been remarkable, throughout his life, for
hospitality and contempt of money.




CAVE [59].


The curiosity of the publick seems to demand the history of every man
who has, by whatever means, risen to eminence; and few lives would
have more readers than that of the compiler of the Gentleman's
Magazine, if all those who received improvement or entertainment from
him should retain so much kindness for their benefactor, as to inquire
after his conduct and character.

Edward Cave was born at Newton, in Warwickshire, Feb. 29, 1691. His
father (Joseph) was the younger son of Mr. Edward Cave, of
Cave's-in-the-Hole, a lone house, on the Street road, in the same
county, which took its name from the occupier; but having concurred
with his elder brother in cutting off the entail of a small hereditary
estate, by which act it was lost from the family, he was reduced to
follow, in Rugby, the trade of a shoemaker. He was a man of good
reputation in his narrow circle, and remarkable for strength and
rustick intrepidity. He lived to a great age, and was, in his latter
years, supported by his son.

It was fortunate for Edward Cave, that, having a disposition to
literary attainments, he was not cut off by the poverty of his parents
from opportunities of cultivating his faculties. The school of Rugby,
in which he had, by the rules of its foundation, a right to be
instructed, was then in high reputation under the reverend Mr.
Holyock, to whose care most of the neighbouring families, even of the
highest rank, intrusted their sons. He had judgment to discover, and,
for some time, generosity to encourage, the genius of young Cave; and
was so well pleased with his quick progress in the school, that he
declared his resolution to breed him for the university, and
recommended him, as a servitor, to some of his scholars of high rank.
But prosperity which depends upon the caprice of others, is of short
duration. Cave's superiority in literature exalted him to an invidious
familiarity with boys who were far above him in rank and expectations;
and, as in unequal associations it always happens, whatever unlucky
prank was played was imputed to Cave. When any mischief, great or
small, was done, though, perhaps, others boasted of the stratagem,
when it was successful, yet, upon detection, or miscarriage the fault
was sure to fall upon poor Cave.

At last, his mistress, by some invisible means, lost a favourite cock.
Cave was, with little examination, stigmatised as the thief and
murderer; not because he was more apparently criminal than others, but
because he was more easily reached by vindictive justice. From that
time, Mr. Holyock withdrew his kindness visibly from him, and treated
him with harshness, which the crime, in its utmost aggravation, could
scarcely deserve; and which, surely, he would have forborne, had he
considered how hardly the habitual influence of birth and fortune is
resisted; and how frequently men, not wholly without sense of virtue,
are betrayed to acts more atrocious than the robbery of a hen-roost,
by a desire of pleasing their superiours.

Those reflections his master never made, or made without effect; for,
under pretence that Cave obstructed the discipline of the school, by
selling clandestine assistance, and supplying exercises to idlers, he
was oppressed with unreasonable tasks, that there might be an
opportunity of quarrelling with his failure; and when his diligence
had surmounted them, no regard was paid to the performance. Cave bore
this persecution awhile, and then left the school, and the hope of a
literary education, to seek some other means of gaining a livelihood.

He was first placed with a collector of the excise. He used to
recount, with some pleasure, a journey or two which he rode with him
as his clerk, and relate the victories that he gained over the
excisemen in grammatical disputations. But the insolence of his
mistress, who employed him in servile drudgery, quickly disgusted him,
and he went up to London in quest of more suitable employment.

He was recommended to a timber-merchant at the Bankside, and, while he
was there on liking, is said to have given hopes of great mercantile
abilities; but this place he soon left, I know not for what reason,
and was bound apprentice to Mr. Collins, a printer of some reputation,
and deputy alderman.

This was a trade for which men were formerly qualified by a literary
education, and which was pleasing to Cave, because it furnished some
employment for his scholastick attainments. Here, therefore, he
resolved to settle, though his master and mistress lived in perpetual
discord, and their house was, therefore, no comfortable habitation.
From the inconveniencies of these domestick tumults he was soon
released, having, in only two years, attained so much skill in his
art, and gained so much the confidence of his master, that he was
sent, without any superintendant, to conduct a printing-office at
Norwich, and publish a weekly paper. In this undertaking he met with
some opposition, which produced a publick controversy, and procured
young Cave the reputation of a writer.

His master died before his apprenticeship was expired, and he was not
able to bear the perverseness of his mistress. He, therefore, quitted
her house upon a stipulated allowance, and married a young widow, with
whom he lived at Bow. When his apprenticeship was over, he worked, as
a journeyman, at the printing-house of Mr. Barber, a man much
distinguished, and employed by the tories, whose principles had, at
that time, so much prevalence with Cave, that he was, for some years,
a writer in Mist's Journal; which, though he afterwards obtained, by
his wife's interest, a small place in the post-office, he for some
time continued. But, as interest is powerful, and conversation,
however mean, in time persuasive, he, by degrees, inclined to another
party; in which, however, he was always moderate, though steady and
determined.

When he was admitted into the post-office, he still continued, at his
intervals of attendance, to exercise his trade, or to employ himself
with some typographical business. He corrected the Gradus ad
Parnassum; and was liberally rewarded by the company of stationers. He
wrote an account of the criminals, which had, for some time, a
considerable sale; and published many little pamphlets, that accident
brought into his hands, of which it would be very difficult to recover
the memory. By the correspondence which his place in the post-office
facilitated, he procured country newspapers, and sold their
intelligence to a journalist in London, for a guinea a week.

He was afterwards raised to the office of clerk of the franks, in
which he acted with great spirit and firmness; and often stopped
franks, which were given by members of parliament to their friends,
because he thought such extension of a peculiar right illegal. This
raised many complaints, and having stopped, among others, a frank
given to the old dutchess of Marlborough by Mr. Walter Plummer, he was
cited before the house, as for a breach of privilege, and accused, I
suppose very unjustly, of opening letters to detect them. He was
treated with great harshness and severity, but, declining their
questions, by pleading his oath of secrecy, was at last dismissed. And
it must be recorded to his honour, that, when he was ejected from his
office, he did not think himself discharged from his trust, but
continued to refuse, to his nearest friends, any information about the
management of the office.

By this constancy of diligence and diversification of employment, he
in time collected a sum sufficient for the purchase of a small
printing-office, and began the Gentleman's Magazine, a periodical
pamphlet, of which the scheme is known wherever the English language
is spoken. To this undertaking he owed the affluence in which he
passed the last twenty years of his life, and the fortune which he
left behind him, which, though large, had been yet larger, had he not
rashly and wantonly impaired it, by innumerable projects, of which I
know not that ever one succeeded.

The Gentleman's Magazine, which has now subsisted fifty years, and
still continues to enjoy the favour of the world [60], is one of the
most successful and lucrative pamphlets which literary history has
upon record, and therefore deserves, in this narrative, particular
notice.

Mr. Cave, when he formed the project, was far from expecting the
success which he found; and others had so little prospect of its
consequence, that though he had, for several years, talked of his plan
among printers and booksellers, none of them thought it worth the
trial. That they were not restrained by virtue from the execution of
another man's design, was sufficiently apparent, as soon as that
design began to be gainful; for, in a few years, a multitude of
magazines arose and perished: only the London Magazine, supported by a
powerful association of booksellers, and circulated with all the art
and all the cunning of trade, exempted itself from the general fate of
Cave's invaders, and obtained, though not an equal, yet a considerable
sale [61].

Cave now began to aspire to popularity; and being a greater lover of
poetry than any other art, he sometimes offered subjects for poems,
and proposed prizes for the best performers. The first prize was fifty
pounds, for which, being but newly acquainted with wealth, and
thinking the influence of fifty pounds extremely great, he expected
the first authors of the kingdom to appear as competitors; and offered
the allotment of the prize to the universities. But, when the time
came, no name was seen among the writers that had ever been seen
before; the universities and several private men rejected the province
of assigning the prize. At all this Mr. Cave wondered for awhile; but
his natural judgment, and a wider acquaintance with the world, soon
cured him of his astonishment, as of many other prejudices and
errours. Nor have many men been seen raised by accident or industry to
sudden riches, that retained less of the meanness of their former
state.

He continued to improve his magazine, and had the satisfaction of
seeing its success proportionate to his diligence, till, in 1751, his
wife died of an asthma. He seemed not at first much affected by her
death, but in a few days lost his sleep and his appetite, which he
never recovered; but, after having lingered about two years, with many
vicissitudes of amendment and relapse, fell, by drinking acid liquors,
into a diarrhoea, and afterwards into a kind of lethargick
insensibility, in which one of the last acts of reason, which he
exerted, was fondly to press the hand that is now writing this little
narrative. He died on the 10th of January, 1754, having just concluded
the twenty-third annual collection [62].

He was a man of a large stature, not only tall but bulky, and was,
when young, of remarkable strength and activity. He was, generally,
healthful, and capable of much labour and long application; but in the
latter years of his life was afflicted with the gout, which he
endeavoured to cure or alleviate by a total abstinence both from
strong liquors and animal food. From animal food he abstained about
four years, and from strong liquors much longer; but the gout
continued unconquered, perhaps unabated.

His resolution and perseverance were very uncommon; in whatever he
undertook, neither expense nor fatigue were able to repress him; but
his constancy was calm, and to those who did not know him appeared
faint and languid; but he always went forward, though he moved slowly.
The same chilness of mind was observable in his conversation; he was
watching the minutest accent of those

Assisted only by a classical education,
Which he received at the Grammar school
Of this Town,
Planned, executed, and established
A literary work, called
THE
GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE,
Whereby he acquired an ample fortune,
The whole of which devolved to his family,
Here also lies
The body of WILLIAM CAVE,
Second son of the said JOSEPH CAVE,
Who died May 2, 1757, aged 62 years;
And who, having survived his elder brother,
EDWARD CAVE,
Inherited from him a competent estate;
And, in gratitude to his benefactor,
Ordered this monument to perpetuate his memory.

He liv'd a patriarch in his numerous race,
And show'd in charity a Christian's grace:
Whate'er a friend or parent feels, he knew;
His hand was open, and his heart was true;
In what he gain'd and gave, he taught mankind,
A grateful always is a generous mind.
Here rest his clay! his soul must ever rest;
Who bless'd when living, dying must be blest.

whom he disgusted by seeming inattention; and his visitant was
surprised when he came a second time, by preparations to execute the
scheme which he supposed never to have been heard.

He was, consistently with this general tranquillity of mind, a
tenacious maintainer, though not a clamorous demander, of his right.
In his youth, having summoned his fellow-journeymen to concert
measures against the oppression of their masters, he mounted a kind of
rostrum, and harangued them so efficaciously, that they determined to
resist all future invasions; and when the stamp-offices demanded to
stamp the last half-sheet of the magazines, Mr. Cave alone defeated
their claim, to which the proprietors of the rival magazines would
meanly have submitted.

He was a friend rather easy and constant, than zealous an'd active;
yet many instances might be given, where both his money and his
diligence were employed liberally for others. His enmity was, in like
manner, cool and deliberate; but though cool, it was not insidious,
and though deliberate, not pertinacious.

His mental faculties were slow. He saw little at a time, but that
little he saw with great exactness. He was long in finding the right,
but seldom failed to find it at last. His affections were not easily
gained, and his opinions not quickly discovered. His reserve, as it
might hide his faults, concealed his virtues; but such he was, as they
who best knew him have most lamented.




KING OF PRUSSIA [63].


Charles Frederick, the present king of Prussia, whose actions and
designs now keep Europe in attention, is the eldest son of Frederick
William, by Sophia Dorothea, daughter of George the first, king of
England. He was born January 24, 1711-12. Of his early years nothing
remarkable has been transmitted to us. As he advanced towards manhood,
he became remarkable by his disagreement with his father.

The late king of Prussia was of a disposition violent and arbitrary,
of narrow views, and vehement passions, earnestly engaged in little
pursuits, or in schemes terminating in some speedy consequence,
without any plan of lasting advantage to himself or his subjects, or
any prospect of distant events. He was, therefore, always busy, though
no effects of his activity ever appeared, and always eager, though he
had nothing to gain. His behaviour was, to the last degree, rough and
savage. The least provocation, whether designed or accidental, was
returned by blows, which he did not always forbear to the queen and
princesses.

From such a king and such a father it was not any enormous violation
of duty in the immediate heir of a kingdom, sometimes to differ in
opinion, and to maintain that difference with decent pertinacity. A
prince of a quick sagacity and comprehensive knowledge, must find many
practices in the conduct of affairs which he could not approve, and
some which he could scarcely forbear to oppose.

The chief pride of the old king was to be master of the tallest
regiment in Europe. He, therefore, brought together, from all parts,
men above the common military standard. To exceed the height of six
feet, was a certain recommendation to notice, and to approach that of
seven, a claim to distinction. Men will readily go where they are sure
to be caressed; and he had, therefore, such a collection of giants,
as, perhaps, was never seen in the world before.

To review this towering regiment was his daily pleasure, and to
perpetuate it was so much his care, that when he met a tall woman, he
immediately commanded one of his Titanian retinue to marry her, that
they might propagate procerity, and produce heirs to the father's
habiliments.

In all this there was apparent folly, but there was no crime. The tall
regiment made a fine show at an expense not much greater, when once it
was collected, than would have been bestowed upon common men. But the
king's military pastimes were sometimes more pernicious. He maintained
a numerous army, of which he made no other use than to review and to
talk of it; and when he, or perhaps his emissaries, saw a boy, whose
form and sprightliness promised a future soldier, he ordered a kind of
badge to be put about his neck, by which he was marked out for the
service, like the sons of Christian captives in Turkey; and his
parents were forbidden to destine him to any other mode of life.

This was sufficiently oppressive, but this was not the utmost of his
tyranny. He had learned, though otherwise perhaps no very great
politician, that to be rich was to be powerful; but that the riches of
a king ought to be seen in the opulence of his subjects, he wanted
either ability or benevolence to understand. He, therefore, raised
exorbitant taxes from every kind of commodity and possession, and
piled up the money in his treasury, from which it issued no more. How
the land which had paid taxes once, was to pay them a second time, how
imposts could be levied without commerce, or commerce continued
without money, it was not his custom to inquire. Eager to snatch at
money, and delighted to count it, he felt new joy at every receipt,
and thought himself enriched by the impoverishment of his dominions.

By which of these freaks of royalty the prince was offended, or
whether, as perhaps more frequently happens, the offences of which he
complains were of a domestick and personal kind, it is not easy to
discover. But his resentment, whatever was its cause, rose so high,
that he resolved not only to leave his father's court, but his
territories, and to seek a refuge among the neighbouring or kindred
princes. It is generally believed that his intention was to come to
England, and live under the protection of his uncle, till his father's
death, or change of conduct, should give him liberty to return.

His design, whatever it was, he concerted with an officer in the army,
whose name was Kat, a man in whom he placed great confidence, and
whom, having chosen him for the companion of his flight, he
necessarily trusted with the preparatory measures. A prince cannot
leave his country with the speed of a meaner fugitive. Something was
to be provided, and something to be adjusted. And, whether Kat found
the agency of others necessary, and, therefore, was constrained to
admit some partners of the secret; whether levity or vanity incited
him to disburden himself of a trust that swelled in his bosom, or to
show to a friend or mistress his own importance; or whether it be in
itself difficult for princes to transact any thing in secret; so it
was, that the king was informed of the intended flight, and the
prince, and his favourite, a little before the time settled for their
departure, were arrested, and confined in different places.

The life of princes is seldom in danger, the hazard of their
irregularities falls only on those whom ambition or affection combines
with them. The king, after an imprisonment of some time, set his son
at liberty; but poor Kat was ordered to be tried for a capital crime.
The court examined the cause, and acquitted him: the king remanded him
to a second trial, and obliged his judges to condemn him. In
consequence of the sentence thus tyrannically extorted, he was
publickly beheaded, leaving behind him some papers of reflections made
in the prison, which were afterwards printed, and among others an
admonition to the prince, for whose sake he suffered, not to foster in
himself the opinion of destiny, for that a providence is discoverable
in every thing round us.

This cruel prosecution of a man who had committed no crime, but by
compliance with influence not easily to be resisted, was not the only
act by which the old king irritated his son. A lady with whom the
prince was suspected of intimacy, perhaps more than virtue allowed,
was seized, I know not upon what accusation, and, by the king's order,
notwithstanding all the reasons of decency and tenderness that operate
in other countries, and other judicatures, was publickly whipped in
the streets of Berlin.

At last, that the prince might feel the power of a king and a father
in its utmost rigour, he was, in 1733, married against his will to the
princess Elizabetha Christina of Brunswick Luneburg Beveren. He
married her indeed at his father's command, but without professing for
her either esteem or affection, and considering the claim of parental
authority fully satisfied by the external ceremony, obstinately and
perpetually, during the life of his father, refrained from her bed.
The poor princess lived about seven years in the court of Berlin, in a
state which the world has not often seen, a wife without a husband,
married so far as to engage her person to a man who did not desire her
affection, and of whom it was doubtful, whether he thought himself
restrained from the power of repudiation by an act performed under
evident compulsion.

Thus he lived secluded from publick business, in contention with his
father, in alienation from his wife. This state of uneasiness he found
the only means of softening. He diverted his mind from the scenes
about him, by studies and liberal amusements. The studies of princes
seldom produce great effects, for princes draw with meaner mortals the
lot of understanding; and since of many students not more than one can
be hoped to advance far towards perfection, it is scarcely to be
expected that we should find that one a prince; that the desire of
science should overpower in any mind the love of pleasure, when it is
always present, or always within call; that laborious meditation
should be preferred in the days of youth to amusements and festivity;
or that perseverance should press forward in contempt of flattery; and
that he, in whom moderate acquisitions would be extolled as prodigies,
should exact from himself that excellence of which the whole world
conspires to spare him the necessity.

In every great performance, perhaps in every great character, part is
the gift of nature, part the contribution of accident, and part, very
often not the greatest part, the effect of voluntary election, and
regular design. The king of Prussia was undoubtedly born with more
than common abilities; but that he has cultivated them with more than
common diligence, was probably the effect of his peculiar condition,
of that which he then considered as cruelty and misfortune.

In this long interval of unhappiness and obscurity, he acquired skill
in the mathematical sciences, such as is said to have put him on the
level with those who have made them the business of their lives. This
is, probably, to say too much: the acquisitions of kings are always
magnified. His skill in poetry and in the French language has been
loudly praised by Voltaire, a judge without exception, if his honesty
were equal to his knowledge. Musick he not only understands, but
practises on the German flute, in the highest perfection; so that,
according to the regal censure of Philip of Macedon, he may be ashamed
to play so well.

He may be said to owe to the difficulties of his youth an advantage
less frequently obtained by princes than literature and mathematicks.
The necessity of passing his time without pomp, and of partaking of
the pleasures and labours of a lower station, made him acquainted with
the various forms of life, and with the genuine passions, interests,
desires, and distresses, of mankind. Kings, without this help from
temporary infelicity, see the world in a mist, which magnifies every
thing near them, and bounds their view to a narrow compass, which few
are able to extend by the mere force of curiosity. I have always
thought that what Cromwell had more than our lawful kings, he owed to
the private condition in which he first entered the world, and in
which he long continued: in that state he learned his art of secret
transaction, and the knowledge by which he was able to oppose zeal to
zeal, and make one enthusiast destroy another.

The king of Prussia gained the same arts, and, being born to fairer
opportunities of using them, brought to the throne the knowledge of a
private man, without the guilt of usurpation. Of this general
acquaintance with the world there may be found some traces in his
whole life. His conversation is like that of other men upon common
topicks, his letters have an air of familiar elegance, and his whole
conduct is that of a man who has to do with men, and who is not
ignorant what motives will prevail over friends or enemies.

In 1740, the old king fell sick, and spoke and acted in his illness
with his usual turbulence and roughness, reproaching his physicians,
in the grossest terms, with their unskilfulness and impotence, and
imputing to their ignorance or wickedness the pain which their
prescriptions failed to relieve. These insults they bore with the
submission which is commonly paid to despotick monarchs; till at last
the celebrated Hoffman was consulted, who failing, like the rest, to
give ease to his majesty, was, like the rest, treated with injurious
language. Hoffman, conscious of his own merit, replied, that he could
not bear reproaches which he did not deserve; that he had tried all
the remedies that art could supply, or nature could admit; that he
was, indeed, a professor by his majesty's bounty; but that, if his
abilities or integrity were doubted, he was willing to leave, not only
the university, but the kingdom; and that he could not be driven into
any place where the name of Hoffman would want respect. The king,
however unaccustomed to such returns, was struck with conviction of
his own indecency, told Hoffman, that he had spoken well, and
requested him to continue his attendance.

The king, finding his distemper gaining upon his strength, grew at
last sensible that his end was approaching, and, ordering the prince
to be called to his bed, laid several injunctions upon him, of which
one was to perpetuate the tall regiment by continual recruits, and
another, to receive his espoused wife. The prince gave him a
respectful answer, but wisely avoided to diminish his own right or
power by an absolute promise; and the king died uncertain of the fate
of the tall regiment.

The young king began his reign with great expectations, which he has
yet surpassed. His father's faults produced many advantages to the
first years of his reign. He had an army of seventy thousand men well
disciplined, without any imputation of severity to himself, and was
master of a vast treasure without the crime or reproach of raising it.
It was publickly said in our house of commons, that he had eight
millions sterling of our money; but, I believe, he that said it had
not considered how difficultly eight millions would be found in all
the Prussian dominions. Men judge of what they do not see by that
which they see. We are used to talk in England of millions with great
familiarity, and imagine that there is the same affluence of money in
other countries, in countries whose manufactures are few, and commerce
little.

Every man's first cares are necessarily domestick. The king, being now
no longer under influence, or its appearance, determined how to act
towards the unhappy lady who had possessed, for seven years, the empty
title of the princess of Prussia. The papers of those times exhibited
the conversation of their first interview; as if the king, who plans
campaigns in silence, would not accommodate a difference with his
wife, but with writers of news admitted as witnesses. It is certain
that he received her as queen, but whether he treats her as a wife is
yet in dispute.

In a few days his resolution was known with regard to the tall
regiment; for some recruits being offered him, he rejected them; and
this body of giants, by continued disregard, mouldered away.

He treated his mother with great respect, ordered that she should bear
the title of _queen mother_, and that, instead of addressing him
as _his majesty_, she should only call him _son_.

As he was passing soon after between Berlin and Potsdam, a thousand
boys, who had been marked out for military service, surrounded his
coach, and cried out: "merciful king! deliver us from our slavery. " He
promised them their liberty, and ordered, the next day, that the badge
should be taken off.

He still continued that correspondence with learned men which he began
when he was prince; and the eyes of all scholars, a race of mortals
formed for dependence, were upon him, as a man likely to renew the
times of patronage, and to emulate the bounties of Lewis the
fourteenth.

It soon appeared that he was resolved to govern with very little
ministerial assistance: he took cognizance of every thing with his own
eyes; declared, that in all contrarieties of interest between him and
his subjects, the publick good should have the preference; and, in one
of the first exertions of regal power, banished the prime minister and
favourite of his father, as one that had "betrayed his master, and
abused his trust. "

He then declared his resolution to grant a general toleration of
religion, and, among other liberalities of concession, allowed the
profession of free-masonry. It is the great taint of his character,
that he has given reason to doubt, whether this toleration is the
effect of charity or indifference, whether he means to support good
men of every religion, or considers all religions as equally good.
There had subsisted, for some time, in Prussia, an order called the
"order for favour," which, according to its denomination, had been
conferred with very little distinction. The king instituted the "order
for merit," with which he honoured those whom he considered as
deserving. There were some who thought their merit not sufficiently
recompensed by this new title; but he was not very ready to grant
pecuniary rewards. Those who were most in his favour he sometimes
presented with snuffboxes, on which was inscribed, "Amitié augmente le
prix. "

He was, however, charitable, if not liberal, for he ordered the
magistrates of the several districts to be very attentive to the
relief of the poor; and, if the funds established for that use were
not sufficient, permitted that the deficiency should be supplied out
of the revenues of the town.

One of his first cares was the advancement of learning. Immediately
upon his accession, he wrote to Rollin and Voltaire, that he desired
the continuance of their friendship; and sent for Mr. Maupertuis, the
principal of the French academicians, who passed a winter in Lapland,
to verify, by the mensuration of a degree near the pole, the Newtonian
doctrine of the form of the earth. He requested of Maupertuis to come
to Berlin, to settle an academy, in terms of great ardour and great
condescension.

At the same time, he showed the world that literary amusements were
not likely, as has more than once happened to royal students, to
withdraw him from the care of the kingdom, or make him forget his
interest. He began by reviving a claim to Herstal and Hermal, two
districts in the possession of the bishop of Liege. When he sent his
commissary to demand the homage of the inhabitants, they refused him
admission, declaring that they acknowledged no sovereign but the
bishop.
The king then wrote a letter to the bishop, in which he
complained of the violation of his right, and the contempt of his
authority, charged the prelate with countenancing the late act of
disobedience, and required an answer in two days.

In three days the answer was sent, in which the bishop founds his
claim to the two lordships, upon a grant of Charles the fifth,
guaranteed by France and Spain; alleges that his predecessors had
enjoyed this grant above a century, and that he never intended to
infringe the rights of Prussia; but as the house of Brandenburgh had
always made some pretensions to that territory, he was willing to do
what other bishops had offered, to purchase that claim for a hundred
thousand crowns.

To every man that knows the state of the feudal countries, the
intricacy of their pedigrees, the confusion of their alliances, and
the different rules of inheritance that prevail in different places,
it will appear evident, that of reviving antiquated claims there can
be no end, and that the possession of a century is a better title than
can commonly be produced. So long a prescription supposes an
acquiescence in the other claimants; and that acquiescence supposes
also some reason, perhaps now unknown, for which the claim was
forborne. Whether this rule could be considered as valid in the
controversy between these sovereigns, may, however, be doubted, for
the bishop's answer seems to imply, that the title of the house of
Brandenburg had been kept alive by repeated claims, though the seizure
of the territory had been hitherto forborne.

The king did not suffer his claim to be subjected to any altercations,
but, having published a declaration, in which he charged the bishop
with violence and injustice, and remarked that the feudal laws allowed
every man, whose possession was withheld from him, to enter it with an
armed force, he immediately despatched two thousand soldiers into the
controverted countries, where they lived without control, exercising
every kind of military tyranny, till the cries of the inhabitants
forced the bishop to relinquish them to the quiet government of
Prussia.

This was but a petty acquisition; the time was now come when the king
of Prussia was to form and execute greater designs. On the 9th of
October, 1740, half Europe was thrown into confusion by the death of
Charles the sixth, emperour of Germany, by whose death all the
hereditary dominions of the house of Austria descended, according to
the pragmatick sanction, to his eldest daughter, who was married to
the duke of Lorrain, at the time of the emperour's death, duke of
Tuscany.

By how many securities the pragmatick sanction was fortified, and how
little it was regarded when those securities became necessary; how
many claimants started up at once to the several dominions of the
house of Austria; how vehemently their pretensions were enforced, and
how many invasions were threatened or attempted; the distresses of the
emperour's daughter, known for several years by the title only of the
queen of Hungary, because Hungary was the only country to which her
claim had not been disputed: the firmness with which she struggled
with her difficulties, and the good fortune by which she surmounted
them; the narrow plan of this essay will not suffer me to relate. Let
them be told by some other writer of more leisure and wider
intelligence.

Upon the emperour's death, many of the German princes fell upon the
Austrian territories, as upon a dead carcass, to be dismembered among
them without resistance. Among these, with whatever justice, certainly
with very little generosity, was the king of Prussia, who, having
assembled his troops, as was imagined, to support the pragmatick
sanction, on a sudden entered Silesia with thirty thousand men,
publishing a declaration, in which he disclaims any design of injuring
the rights of the house of Austria, but urges his claim to Silesia, as
rising "from ancient conventions of family and confraternity between
the house of Brandenburg and the princes of Silesia, and other
honourable titles. " He says, the fear of being defeated by other
pretenders to the Austrian dominions, obliged him to enter Silesia
without any previous expostulation with the queen, and that he shall
"strenuously espouse the interests of the house of Austria. "

Such a declaration was, I believe, in the opinion of all Europe,
nothing less than the aggravation of hostility by insult, and was
received by the Austrians with suitable indignation. The king pursued
his purpose, marched forward, and in the frontiers of Silesia made a
speech to his followers, in which he told them, that he considered
them rather "as friends than subjects, that the troops of Brandenburg
had been always eminent for their bravery, that they would always
fight in his presence, and that he would recompense those who should
distinguish themselves in his service, rather as a father than as a
king. "

The civilities of the great are never thrown away. The soldiers would
naturally follow such a leader with alacrity; especially because they
expected no opposition: but human expectations are frequently
deceived.

Entering thus suddenly into a country which he was supposed rather
likely to protect than to invade, he acted for some time with absolute
authority; but, supposing that this submission would not always last,
he endeavoured to persuade the queen to a cession of Silesia,
imagining that she would easily be persuaded to yield what was already
lost. He, therefore, ordered his minister to declare, at Vienna, "that
he was ready to guarantee all the German dominions of the house of
Austria; that he would conclude a treaty with Austria, Russia, and the
maritime powers; that he would endeavour that the duke of Lorrain
should be elected emperour, and believed that he could accomplish it;
that he would immediately advance to the queen two millions of
florins; that, in recompense for all this, he required Silesia to be
yielded to him. "

These seem not to be the offers of a prince very much convinced of his
own right. He afterwards moderated his claim, and ordered his minister
to hint at Vienna, that half of Silesia would content him.

The queen answered, that though the king alleged, as his reason for
entering Silesia, the danger of the Austrian territories from other
pretenders, and endeavoured to persuade her to give up part of her
possessions for the preservation of the rest, it was evident that he
was the first and only invader, and that, till he entered in a hostile
manner, all her estates were unmolested.

To his promises of assistance she replied, "that she set a high value
on the king of Prussia's friendship; but that he was already obliged
to assist her against her invaders, both by the golden bull, and the
pragmatick sanction, of which he was a guarantee, and that, if these
ties were of no force she knew not what to hope from other
engagements. "

Of his offers of alliances with Russia and the maritime powers, she
observed, that it could be never fit to alienate her dominions for the
consolidation of an alliance formed only to keep them entire.

With regard to his interest in the election of an emperour, she
expressed her gratitude in strong terms; but added, that the election
ought to be free, and that it must be necessarily embarrassed by
contentions thus raised in the heart of the empire. Of the pecuniary
assistance proposed, she remarks, that no prince ever made war to
oblige another to take money, and that the contributions already
levied in Silesia exceed the two millions, offered as its purchase.

She concluded, that as she values the king's friendship, she was
willing to purchase it by any compliance but the diminution of her
dominions, and exhorted him to perform his part in support of the
pragmatick sanction.

The king, finding negotiation thus ineffectual, pushed forward his
inroads, and now began to show how secretly he could take his
measures. When he called a council of war, he proposed the question in
a few words: all his generals wrote their opinions in his presence
upon separate papers, which he carried away, and, examining them in
private, formed his resolution, without imparting it otherwise than by
his orders.

He began not without policy, to seize first upon the estates of the
clergy, an order every where necessary, and every where envied. He
plundered the convents of their stores of provision; and told them,
that he never had heard of any magazines erected by the apostles.

This insult was mean, because it was unjust; but those who could not
resist were obliged to bear it. He proceeded in his expedition; and a
detachment of his troops took Jablunca, one of the strong places of
Silesia, which was soon after abandoned, for want of provisions, which
the Austrian hussars, who were now in motion, were busy to interrupt.

One of the most remarkable events of the Silesia war, was the conquest
of great Glogau, which was taken by an assault in the dark, headed by
prince Leopold of Anhalt Dessau. They arrived at the foot of the
fortifications about twelve at night, and in two hours were masters of
the place. In attempts of this kind many accidents happen which cannot
be heard without surprise. Four Prussian grenadiers, who had climbed
the ramparts, missing their own company, met an Austrian captain with
fifty-two men: they were at first frighted, and were about to retreat;
but, gathering courage, commanded the Austrians to lay down their
arms, and in the terrour of darkness and confusion were unexpectedly
obeyed.

At the same time a conspiracy to kill or carry away the king of
Prussia, was said to be discovered. The Prussians published a
memorial, in which the Austrian court was accused of employing
emissaries and assassins against the king; and it was alleged, in
direct terms, that one of them had confessed himself obliged, by oath,
to destroy him, which oath had been given him in an Aulick council, in
the presence of the duke of Lorrain.

To this the Austrians answered, "that the character of the queen and
duke was too well known not to destroy the force of such an
accusation; that the tale of the confession was an imposture, and that
no such attempt was ever made. "

Each party was now inflamed, and orders were given to the Austrian
general to hazard a battle. The two armies met at Molwitz, and parted
without a complete victory on either side. The Austrians quitted the
field in good order; and the king of Prussia rode away upon the first
disorder of his troops, without waiting for the last event. This
attention to his personal safety has not yet been forgotten.

After this, there was no action of much importance. But the king of
Prussia, irritated by opposition, transferred his interest in the
election to the duke of Bavaria; and the queen of Hungary, now
attacked by France, Spain, and Bavaria, was obliged to make peace with
him at the expense of half Silesia, without procuring those advantages
which were once offered her.

To enlarge dominions has been the boast of many princes; to diffuse
happiness and security through wide regions has been granted to few.
The king of Prussia has aspired to both these honours, and endeavoured
to join the praise of legislator to that of conqueror.

To settle property, to suppress false claims, and to regulate the
administration of civil and criminal justice are attempts so difficult
and so useful, that I shall willingly suspend or contract the history
of battles and sieges, to give a larger account of this pacifick
enterprise.

That the king of Prussia has considered the nature and the reasons of
laws, with more attention than is common to princes, appears from his
dissertation on the Reasons for enacting and repealing Laws: a piece
which yet deserves notice, rather as a proof of good inclination than
of great ability; for there is nothing to be found in it more than the
most obvious books may supply, or the weakest intellect discover. Some
of his observations are just and useful; but upon such a subject who
can think without often thinking right? It is, however, not to be
omitted, that he appears always propense towards the side of mercy.
"If a poor man," says he, "steals in his want a watch, or a few
pieces, from one to whom the loss is inconsiderable, is this a reason
for condemning him to death? "

He regrets that the laws against duels have been ineffectual; and is
of opinion, that they can never attain their end, unless the princes
of Europe shall agree not to afford an asylum to duellists, and to
punish all who shall insult their equals, either by word, deed, or
writing. He seems to suspect this scheme of being chimerical. "Yet
why," says he, "should not personal quarrels be submitted to judges,
as well as questions of possession? and why should not a congress be
appointed for the general good of mankind, as well as for so many
purposes of less importance? "

He declares himself with great ardour against the use of torture, and
by some misinformation charges the English that they still retain it.

It is, perhaps, impossible to review the laws of any country without
discovering many defects and many superfluities. Laws often continue,
when their reasons have ceased. Laws made for the first state of the
society continue unabolished, when the general form of life is
changed. Parts of the judicial procedure, which were, at first, only
accidental, become, in time, essential; and formalities are
accumulated on each other, till the art of litigation requires more
study than the discovery of right.

The king of Prussia, examining the institutions of his own country,
thought them such as could only be amended by a general abrogation,
and the establishment of a new body of law, to which he gave the name
of the Code Frédérique, which is comprised in one volume of no great
bulk, and must, therefore, unavoidably contain general positions to be
accommodated to particular cases by the wisdom and integrity of the
courts. To embarrass justice by multiplicity of laws, or to hazard it
by confidence in judges, seem to be the opposite rocks on which all
civil institutions have been wrecked, and between which legislative
wisdom has never yet found an open passage.

Of this new system of laws, contracted as it is, a full account cannot
be expected in these memoirs; but, that curiosity may not be dismissed
without some gratification, it has been thought proper to epitomise
the king's plan for the reformation of his courts.

"The differences which arise between members of the same society, may
be terminated by a voluntary agreement between the parties, by
arbitration, or by a judicial process.

"The two first methods produce, more frequently, a temporary
suspension of disputes than a final termination. Courts of justice
are, therefore, necessary, with a settled method of procedure, of
which the most simple is to cite the parties, to hear their pleas, and
dismiss them with immediate decision.

"This, however, is, in many cases, impracticable, and in others is so
seldom practised, that it is frequent rather to incur loss than to
seek for legal reparation, by entering a labyrinth of which there is
no end.

"This tediousness of suits keeps the parties in disquiet and
perturbation, rouses and perpetuates animosities, exhausts the
litigants by expense, retards the progress of their fortune, and
discourages strangers from settling.

"These inconveniencies, with which the best-regulated polities of
Europe are embarrassed, must be removed, not by the total prohibition
of suits, which is impossible, but by contraction of processes; by
opening an easy way for the appearance of truth, and removing all
obstructions by which it is concealed.

"The ordonnance of 1667, by which Lewis the fourteenth established an
uniformity of procedure through all his courts, has been considered as
one of the greatest benefits of his reign.

"The king of Prussia, observing that each of his provinces had a
different method of judicial procedure, proposed to reduce them all to
one form; which being tried with success in Pomerania, a province
remarkable for contention, he afterwards extended to all his
dominions, ordering the judges to inform him of any difficulties which
arose from it.

"Some settled method is necessary in judicial procedures. Small and
simple causes might be decided upon the oral pleas of the two parties
appearing before the judge; but many cases are so entangled and
perplexed as to require all the skill and abilities of those who
devote their lives to the study of the law.

"Advocates, or men who can understand and explain the question to be
discussed, are, therefore, necessary. But these men, instead of
endeavouring to promote justice and discover truth, have exerted their
wits in the defence of bad causes, by forgeries of facts, and
fallacies of argument.

"To remedy this evil, the king has ordered an inquiry into the
qualifications of the advocate. All those who practise without a
regular admission, or who can be convicted of disingenuous practice,
are discarded. And the judges are commanded to examine which of the
causes now depending have been protracted by the crimes and ignorance
of the advocates, and to dismiss those who shall appear culpable.

"When advocates are too numerous to live by honest practice, they busy
themselves in exciting disputes, and disturbing the community: the
number of these to be employed in each court is, therefore, fixed.

"The reward of the advocates is fixed with due regard to the nature of
the cause, and the labour required; but not a penny is received by
them till the suit is ended, that it may be their interest, as well as
that of the clients, to shorten the process.

"No advocate is admitted in petty courts, small towns, or villages;
where the poverty of the people, and, for the most part, the low value
of the matter contested, make despatch absolutely necessary. In those
places the parties shall appear in person, and the judge make a
summary decision.

"There must, likewise, be allowed a subordination of tribunals, and a
power of appeal. No judge is so skilful and attentive as not sometimes
to err. Few are so honest as not sometimes to be partial. Petty judges
would become insupportably tyrannical if they were not restrained by
the fear of a superiour judicature; and their decisions would be
negligent or arbitrary if they were not in danger of seeing them
examined and cancelled.

"The right of appeal must be restrained, that causes may not be
transferred without end from court to court; and a peremptory decision
must, at last, be made.

"When an appeal is made to a higher court, the appellant is allowed
only four weeks to frame his bill, the judge of the lower court being
to transmit to the higher all the evidences and informations. If, upon
the first view of the cause thus opened, it shall appear that the
appeal was made without just cause, the first sentence shall be
confirmed without citation of the defendant. If any new evidence shall
appear, or any doubts arise, both the parties shall be heard.

"In the discussion of causes altercation must be allowed; yet to
altercation some limits must be put. There are, therefore, allowed a
bill, an answer, a reply, and a rejoinder, to be delivered in writing.

"No cause is allowed to be heard in more than three different courts.
To further the first decision, every advocate is enjoined, under
severe penalties, not to begin a suit till he has collected all the
necessary evidence. If the first court has decided in an
unsatisfactory manner, an appeal may be made to the second, and from
the second to the third. The process in each appeal is limited to six
months. The third court may, indeed, pass an erroneous judgment; and
then the injury is without redress. But this objection is without end,
and, therefore, without force. No method can be found of preserving
humanity from errour; but of contest there must sometime be an end;
and he, who thinks himself injured for want of an appeal to a fourth
court, must consider himself as suffering for the publick.

"There is a special advocate appointed for the poor.

"The attorneys, who had formerly the care of collecting evidence, and
of adjusting all the preliminaries of a suit, are now totally
dismissed; the whole affair is put into the hands of the advocates,
and the office of an attorney is annulled for ever.

"If any man is hindered by some lawful impediment from attending his
suit, time will be granted him upon the representation of his case. "

Such is the order according to which civil justice is administered
through the extensive dominions of the king of Prussia; which, if it
exhibits nothing very subtle or profound, affords one proof more that
the right is easily discovered, and that men do not so often want
ability to find, as willingness to practise it.

We now return to the war.

The time at which the queen of Hungary was willing to purchase peace
by the resignation of Silesia, though it came at last, was not come
yet. She had all the spirit, though not all the power of her
ancestors, and could not bear the thought of losing any part of her
patrimonial dominions to the enemies which the opinion of her weakness
raised every where against her.

In the beginning of the year 1742, the elector of Bavaria was invested
with the imperial dignity, supported by the arms of France, master of
the kingdom of Bohemia; and confederated with the elector Palatine,
and the elector of Saxony, who claimed Moravia; and with the king of
Prussia, who was in possession of Silesia.

Such was the state of the queen of Hungary, pressed on every side, and
on every side preparing for resistance: she yet refused all offers of
accommodation, for every prince set peace at a price which she was not
yet so far humbled as to pay.

The king of Prussia was among the most zealous and forward in the
confederacy against her. He promised to secure Bohemia to the
emperour, and Moravia to the elector of Saxony; and, finding no enemy
in the field able to resist him, he returned to Berlin, and left
Schwerin, his general, to prosecute the conquest.

The Prussians, in the midst of winter, took Olmutz, the capital of
Moravia, and laid the whole country under contribution. The cold then
hindered them from action, and they only blocked up the fortresses of
Brinn, and Spielberg.

In the spring, the king of Prussia came again into the field, and
undertook the siege of Brinn; but, upon the approach of prince Charles
of Lorrain, retired from before it, and quitted Moravia, leaving only
a garrison in the capital.

The condition of the queen of Hungary was now changed. She was, a few
months before, without money, without troops, encircled with enemies.
The Bavarians had entered Austria, Vienna was threatened with a siege,
and the queen left it to the fate of war, and retired into Hungary,
where she was received with zeal and affection, not unmingled,
however, with that neglect which must always be borne by greatness in
distress. She bore the disrespect of her subjects with the same
firmness as the outrages of her enemies; and, at last, persuaded the
English not to despair of her preservation, by not despairing herself.

Voltaire, in his late history, has asserted, that a large sum was
raised for her succour, by voluntary subscriptions of the English
ladies. It is the great failing of a strong imagination to catch
greedily at wonders. He was misinformed, and was, perhaps, unwilling
to learn, by a second inquiry, a truth less splendid and amusing. A
contribution was, by news-writers, upon their own authority,
fruitlessly, and, I think, illegally proposed. It ended in nothing.
The parliament voted a supply, and five hundred thousand pounds were
remitted to her.

It has been always the weakness of the Austrian family to spend in the
magnificence of empire, those revenues which should be kept for its
defence. The court is splendid, but the treasury is empty; and, at the
beginning of every war, advantages are gained against them, before
their armies can be assembled and equipped.

The English money was to the Austrians, as a shower to a field, where
all the vegetative powers are kept unactive by a long continuance of
drought. The armies, which had hitherto been hid in mountains and
forests, started out of their retreats; and, wherever the queen's
standard was erected, nations scarcely known by their names, swarmed
immediately about it. An army, especially a defensive army, multiplies
itself. The contagion of enterprise spreads from one heart to another.
Zeal for a native, or detestation of a foreign sovereign, hope of
sudden greatness or riches, friendship or emulation between particular
men, or, what are perhaps more general and powerful, desire of novelty
and impatience of inactivity, fill a camp with adventurers, add rank
to rank, and squadron to squadron.

The queen had still enemies on every part, but she now, on every part,
had armies ready to oppose them. Austria was immediately recovered;
the plains of Bohemia were filled with her troops, though the
fortresses were garrisoned by the French. The Bavarians were recalled
to the defence of their own country, now wasted by the incursions of
troops that were called barbarians, greedy enough of plunder, and
daring, perhaps, beyond the rules of war, but otherwise not more cruel
than those whom they attacked. Prince Lobkowitz, with one army,
observed the motions of Broglio, the French general, in Bohemia; and
prince Charles with another, put a stop to the advances of the king of
Prussia.

It was now the turn of the Prussians to retire. They abandoned Olmutz,
and left behind them part of their cannon and their magazines. And the
king, finding that Broglio could not long oppose prince Lobkowitz,
hastened into Bohemia to his assistance; and having received a
reinforcement of twenty-three thousand men, and taken the castle of
Glatz, which, being built upon a rock scarcely accessible, would have
defied all his power, had the garrison been furnished with provisions,
he purposed to join his allies, and prosecute his conquests.

Prince Charles, seeing Moravia thus evacuated by the Prussians,
determined to garrison the towns which he had just recovered, and
pursue the enemy, who, by the assistance of the French, would have
been too powerful for prince Lobkowitz.

Success had now given confidence to the Austrians, and had
proportionably abated the spirit of their enemies. The Saxons, who had
cooperated with the king of Prussia in the conquest of Moravia, of
which they expected the perpetual possession, seeing all hopes of
sudden acquisition defeated, and the province left again to its former
masters, grew weary of following a prince, whom they considered as no
longer acting the part of their confederate; and when they approached
the confines of Bohemia took a different road, and left the Prussians
to their own fortune.

The king continued his march, and Charles his pursuit. At Czaslau the
two armies came in sight of one another, and the Austrians resolved on
a decisive day. On the 6th of May, about seven in the morning, the
Austrians began the attack: their impetuosity was matched by the
firmness of the Prussians. The animosity of the two armies was much
inflamed: the Austrians were fighting for their country, and the
Prussians were in a place, where defeat must inevitably end in death
or captivity. The fury of the battle continued four hours: the
Prussian horse were, at length, broken, and the Austrians forced their
way to the camp, where the wild troops, who had fought with so much
vigour and constancy, at the sight of plunder forgot their obedience,
nor had any man the least thought but how to load himself with the
richest spoils.

While the right wing of the Austrians was thus employed, the main body
was left naked: the Prussians recovered from their confusion, and
regained the day. Charles was, at last, forced to retire, and carried
with him the standards of his enemies, the proofs of a victory, which,
though so nearly gained, he had not been able to keep.

The victory, however, was dearly bought; the Prussian army was much
weakened, and the cavalry almost totally destroyed. Peace is easily
made when it is necessary to both parties; and the king of Prussia had
now reason to believe that the Austrians were not his only enemies.
When he found Charles advancing, he sent to Broglio for assistance,
and was answered, that "he must have orders from Versailles. " Such a
desertion of his most powerful ally disconcerted him, but the battle
was unavoidable.

When the Prussians were returned to the camp, the king, hearing that
an Austrian officer was brought in mortally wounded, had the
condescension to visit him. The officer, struck with this act of
humanity, said, after a short conversation: "I should die, sir,
contentedly after this honour, if I might first show my gratitude to
your majesty by informing you with what allies you are now united,
allies that have no intention but to deceive you. " The king appearing
to suspect this intelligence; "Sir," said the Austrian, "if you will
permit me to send a messenger to Vienna, I believe the queen will not
refuse to transmit an intercepted letter now in her hands, which will
put my report beyond all doubt. "

The messenger was sent, and the letter transmitted, which contained
the order sent to Broglio, who was, first, forbidden to mix his troops
on any occasion with the Prussians. Secondly, he was ordered to act
always at a distance from the king. Thirdly, to keep always a body of
twenty thousand men to observe the Prussian army. Fourthly, to observe
very closely the motions of the king, for important reasons. Fifthly,
to hazard nothing; but to pretend want of reinforcements, or the
absence of Bellisle.

The king now, with great reason, considered himself as disengaged from
the confederacy, being deserted by the Saxons, and betrayed by the
French; he, therefore, accepted the mediation of king George, and, in
three weeks after the battle of Czaslaw, made peace with the queen of
Hungary, who granted to him the whole province of Silesia, a country
of such extent and opulence, that he is said to receive from it one
third part of his revenues. By one of the articles of this treaty it
is stipulated, "that neither should assist the enemies of the other. "

The queen of Hungary, thus disentangled on one side, and set free from
the most formidable of her enemies, soon persuaded the Saxons to
peace; took possession of Bavaria; drove the emperour, after all his
imaginary conquests, to the shelter of a neutral town, where he was
treated as a fugitive; and besieged the French in Prague, in the city
which they had taken from her.

Having thus obtained Silesia, the king of Prussia returned to his own
capital, where he reformed his laws, forbade the torture of criminals,
concluded a defensive alliance with England, and applied himself to
the augmentation of his army.

This treaty of peace with the queen of Hungary was one of the first
proofs given by the king of Prussia, of the secrecy of his counsels.
Bellisle, the French general, was with him in the camp, as a friend
and coadjutor in appearance, but in truth a spy, and a writer of
intelligence. Men who have great confidence in their own penetration
are often by that confidence deceived; they imagine that they can
pierce through all the involutions of intrigue, without the diligence
necessary to weaker minds, and, therefore, sit idle and secure; they
believe that none can hope to deceive them, and, therefore, that none
will try. Bellisle, with all his reputation of sagacity, though he was
in the Prussian camp, gave, every day, fresh assurances of the king's
adherence to his allies; while Broglio, who commanded the army at a
distance, discovered sufficient reason to suspect his desertion.
Broglio was slighted, and Bellisle believed, till, on the 11th of
June, the treaty was signed, and the king declared his resolution to
keep a neutrality.

This is one of the great performances of polity which mankind seem
agreed to celebrate and admire; yet, to all this nothing was necessary
but the determination of a very few men to be silent.

From this time the queen of Hungary proceeded with an uninterrupted
torrent of success. The French, driven from station to station, and
deprived of fortress after fortress, were, at last, enclosed with
their two generals, Bellisle and Broglio, in the walls of Prague,
which they had stored with all provisions necessary to a town
besieged, and where they defended themselves three months before any
prospect appeared of relief.

The Austrians, having been engaged chiefly in the field, and in sudden
and tumultuary excursions, rather than a regular war, had no great
degree of skill in attacking or defending towns. They, likewise, would
naturally consider all the mischiefs done to the city, as falling,
ultimately, upon themselves; and, therefore, were willing to gain it
by time rather than by force.

It was apparent that, how long soever Prague might be defended, it
must be yielded at last, and, therefore, all arts were tried to obtain
an honourable capitulation. The messengers from the city were sent
back, sometimes unheard, but always with this answer: "That no terms
would be allowed, but that they should yield themselves prisoners of
war. "

The condition of the garrison was, in the eyes of all Europe,
desperate; but the French, to whom the praise of spirit and activity
cannot be denied, resolved to make an effort for the honour of their
arms. Maillebois was at that time encamped with his army in
Westphalia. Orders were sent him to relieve Prague. The enterprise was
considered as romantick. Maillebois was a march of forty days distant
from Bohemia, the passes were narrow, and the ways foul; and it was
likely that Prague would be taken before he could reach it. The march
was, however, begun: the army, being joined by that of count Saxe,
consisted of fifty thousand men, who, notwithstanding all the
difficulties which two Austrian armies could put in their way, at last
entered Bohemia. The siege of Prague, though not raised, was remitted,
and a communication was now opened to it with the country. But the
Austrians, by perpetual intervention, hindered the garrison from
joining their friends. The officers of Maillebois incited him to a
battle, because the army was hourly lessening by the want of
provisions; but, instead of pressing on to Prague, he retired into
Bavaria, and completed the ruin of the emperour's territories.

The court of France, disappointed and offended, conferred the chief
command upon Broglio, who escaped from the besiegers with very little
difficulty, and kept the Austrians employed till Bellisle, by a sudden
sally, quitted Prague, and without any great loss joined the main
army. Broglio then retired over the Rhine into the French dominions,
wasting, in his retreat, the country which he had undertaken to
protect, and burning towns, and destroying magazines of corn, with
such wantonness, as gave reason to believe that he expected
commendation from his court for any mischiefs done, by whatever means.

The Austrians pursued their advantages, recovered all their strong
places, in some of which French garrisons had been left, and made
themselves masters of Bavaria, by taking not only Munich, the capital,
but Ingolstadt, the strongest fortification in the elector's
dominions, where they found a great number of cannon and a quantity of
ammunition, intended, in the dreams of projected greatness, for the
siege of Vienna, all the archives of the state, the plate and
ornaments of the electoral palace, and what had been considered as
most worthy of preservation. Nothing but the warlike stores were taken
away. An oath of allegiance to the queen was required of the
Bavarians, but without any explanation, whether temporary or
perpetual.

The emperour lived at Frankfort, in the security that was allowed to
neutral places, but without much respect from the German princes,
except that, upon some objections made by the queen to the validity of
his election, the king of Prussia declared himself determined to
support him in the imperial dignity, with all his power.

This may be considered as a token of no great affection to the queen
of Hungary, but it seems not to have raised much alarm. The German
princes were afraid of new broils. To contest the election of an
emperour, once invested and acknowledged, would be to overthrow the
whole Germanick constitution. Perhaps no election by plurality of
suffrages was ever made among human beings, to which it might not be
objected, that voices were procured by illicit influence.

Some suspicions, however, were raised by the king's declaration, which
he endeavoured to obviate by ordering his ministers to declare at
London and at Vienna, that he was resolved not to violate the treaty
of Breslaw. This declaration was sufficiently ambiguous, and could not
satisfy those whom it might silence. But this was not a time for nice
disquisitions; to distrust the king of Prussia might have provoked
him, and it was most convenient to consider him as a friend, till he
appeared openly as an enemy.

About the middle of the year 1744, he raised new alarms by collecting
his troops and putting them in motion. The earl of Hindford about this
time demanded the troops stipulated for the protection of Hanover;
not, perhaps, because they were thought necessary, but that the king's
designs might be guessed from his answer, which was, that troops were
not granted for the defence of any country till that country was in
danger, and that he could not believe the elector of Hanover to be in
much dread of an invasion, since he had withdrawn the native troops,
and put them into the pay of England.