"Oh," answered Graham, affecting a tone of gaiety, "I felt too ashamed of my selfishness as man to finish my sentence." "Do so, or I shall fancy you refrained lest you might wound me as woman." Savarin's dinner, and twining the classic ivy wreath into her dark locks, her Italian servant exclaimed, "How beautiful the Signorina looks to-night!" From The Quarterly Review. THE TWO FREDERICKS.* "Not so on the contrary; had I gone on it would have been to say that a woman of your genius, and more especially of such mastery in the most popular and fascinating of all arts, could not be conTHE two ablest sovereigns that ever tented if she inspired nobler thoughts in bore sway in Germany have both by a a single breast-she must belong to the strange chance -we must not call it sinpublic, or rather the public must belong gular-borne the title of Frederick the to her: it is but a corner of her heart that Second. Of these, the one was Emperor an individual can occupy, and even that of the Romans; the other, King of Prusindividual must merge his existence in sia. An interval of five centuries lies behers must be contented to reflect a ray tween them, marked by the greatest of the light she sheds on admiring thousands. Who could dare to say to you, 'Renounce your career confine your genius, your art, to the petty circle of home? To an actress a singer-with whose fame the world rings, home would be a prison. Pardon me, pardon Isaura had turned away her face to hide tears that would force their way, but she held out her hand to him with a childlike frankness, and said softly, "I am not offended." Graham did not trust himself to continue the same strain of conversation. Breaking into a new subject, he said, after a constrained pause, "Will you think it very impertinent in so new an acquaintance, if I ask how it is that you, an Italian, know our language as a native? and is it by Italian teachers that you have been trained to think and to feel?" "Mr. Selby, my second father, was an Englishman, and did not speak any other language with comfort to himself. He was very fond of me - and had he been really my father I could not have loved him more: we were constant companions till till I lost him." "And no mother left to console you." Isaura shook her head mournfully, and the Venosta here re-entered. Graham felt conscious that he had already stayed too long and took leave. They knew that they were to meet that evening at the Savarins'. Graham did not feel unmixed pleasure at that thought; the more he knew of Isaura, the more he felt self-reproach that he had allowed himself to know her at all. But after he had left, Isaura sang low to herself the song which had so affected her listener; then she fell into abstracted reverie, but she felt a strange and new sort of happiness. In dressing for M. changes in language and in manners, in religion and in modes of thought. Yet still both the characters and times of these two monarchs afford some points of parallel which, as we venture to think, it may not be without interest to trace. Let us then endeavour to compare them in several transactions, and at divers periods of their lives. Let us first take their early years. Frederick, the future Emperor, was born on the day after Christmas, in the year 1194, and in the district of Ancona. At present Jesi is an interesting little town of some 5000 inhabitants, tracing its origin to an indefinite number of centuries before the foundation of Rome, and famed in the middle ages as the birthplace of Frederick the Second, the great Emperor of Germany, whose constant wars with the Roman Pontiffs, and encouragement of literature, render his memory very popular amongst Italian writers. A thriving trade in silk has preserved it from the squalid misery discernible in most of the inland towns of the March, and it can boast of some palaces in tolerable preservation, a casino, a very pretty theatre, and several churches. So writes of it Mrs. Gretton, the authoress of two very well informed and very entertaining volumes on Italy, which were published so far back as 1860, and which we are glad to have an opportunity of mentioning, as we do not think that at the time they attracted as much notice as their merit deserved. In the fourth year of his life Frederick lost his father; in the fifth, his mother. The infant prince was proclaimed King I. Geschichte der Hohenstaufen. Von Friedrich von Raumer. Neue Ausgabe. 6 Bände. 1872. 2. Euvres de Frédéric le Grand, Roi de Prusse. 1846-57. Publiés par ordre du Roi régnant. 30 vols. of Sicily, and crowned in great state at Palermo. There it was that he grew up to manhood. Taught in part by Saracen instructors, he quickly mastered all the learning which could be acquired in that dark age. He was versed in poetry and music; he could speak, it is said, not only Greek and Latin, not only Italian and German, but also French and Arabic. In the year 1209 he was married to Constance, daughter of Alfonso, King of Aragon; and at the beginning of 1212, Frederick, then only seventeen, was suddenly called upon to assume the most momentous responsibilities of public life. An opening appeared in Germany, which seemed to promise him the Crown, worn with so much of glory by his ancestors of the House of Hohenstaufen. Otho of Brunswick was at this time Emperor. He had dissatisfied the clergy; he was excommunicated by the Pope. Several of the princes and prelates of Germany rose against him. An embassy of two brave Suabian knights was sent by them to Palermo, inviting the young heir of Hohenstaufen to become their chief and do battle in their cause. Well might the boy-king hesitate. It was a perilous adventure of most uncertain issue. His Sicilian counsellors almost with one voice declared that he would hazard his life to no purpose, and urged him to refuse. His young wife, with her new-born son in her arms, tenderly besought his stay. But the martial spirit of his race was roused within him. He resolved to shew himself the worthy grandson of the first Frederick, the renowned "Barbarossa"-to grasp at the prize or to perish in the endeavour. On Palm Sunday, in the year 1212, the young King embarked at Palermo with a scanty train. He first repaired to Rome, where he sought to confirm the doubtful adherence of the Pope. Thence again embarking, he landed at Genoa, and found a firm friend in its republic. But the hostility of the Duke of Savoy on the one side, and of the citizens of Milan on the other, threatened to bar his passage to the Alps. When at last he did set forth, he hoped by a night-march to elude the vigilance of his pursuers. Scarce, however, had he crossed the river Lambro than he beheld the men of the escort who had brought him from Pavia, and who had made halt on the right bank, assailed and overpowered by a superior force from Milan without his being able to afford them any aid. Some seventy were taken prisoners; all the rest were put to the sword. Escaped from this imminent danger, and with but few attendants, the young King turned aside from the better known and better guarded passes of the Alps, and climbed the rugged chain - in those days deemed well-nigh impassable which parts the Engadine from Italy. He passed those steep and solitary heights (as they then appeared to him), where now the bright-coloured houses of Campfer and St. Moritz, thronged every summer with English tourists, look gaily on the snow-peak of Surlei and the lakes of Silva Plana. Thence descending, either by the Julier Pass or along the Albula stream, he came down to the valley of the Rhine at Chur. In Switzerland he found some powerful adherents. Above all, he was joined by the Abbot of St. Gall. But as they rode forward on their way to the city of Constance, they were met by evil tidings. At the first report of Frederick's approach, Otho had hastily concluded the war in Thuringia, and was now advancing at the head of 200 knights with a corresponding retinue. Already had he sent his purveyors and cooks into Constance to make ready for his coming. Frederick had with him no more than sixty horsemen. Nevertheless he utterly disdained the thought of a retreat. On the contrary, spurring forward at full speed, with the Abbot of St. Gall, they succeeded in reaching Constance ere the force of Otho came in sight. Then, by their expostulations with the Bishop — would so holy a man support an excommunicated Emperor?-they wrought with such effect that, when, three hours later, Otho and his retinue appeared, he found the city-gates closed and barred against him. As Dean Milman says, "that rapid movement won Frederick the empire." So great an aim, however, was not at once attained. Months, nay years, were still to pass of arduous warfare and negotiation, before Otho was completely overpowered and Frederick crowned as the successor of Charlemagne, in Charlemagne's own city of Aix-la-Chapelle. Nor had Frederick perhaps prevailed in the conflict, had not Philip Augustus of France made common cause with him, and gained, in 1214, the decisive battle of Bouvines. Then the remaining adherents of Otho could only sue for peace. His father-in-law and chief support, the Duke of Brabant, went even farther, and addressed to the King of France a letter of congratulation and good wishes. He received in answer two covers sealed. In the first was a blank paper; in the second had acquired very great skill in fluteplaying, but had to practice that art with as much caution as commonly attends the commission of a crime. When the King went out hunting attended by his princes, Frederick would now and then turn aside to some secluded corner of the forest, and there with a few friends extemporize a concert. Thus also he read with keen delight the poets and philosophers of France, as also, though but in French translations, the great works that have come down to us from ancient times. Of these last, Cicero and Horace, Lucretius and Lucian, besides the "Lives of Plutarch," are named as his especial favourites. Sometimes these forbidden treasures were surprised and seized by the King, then great displeasure ensued; and they were sent in hot haste to the booksellers; to be disposed of for the benefit of the Royal strong-box- the Schatulle. the following words: "As yon paper is he surmounted these impediments, and devoid of writing, so is thy heart devoid made himself, it may truly be said, a selfof fidelity and honour."* taught man. Both in music and in litThe Schloss at Berlin was the birth-erature he was able to hold his own. He place of Frederick of Prussia, January 24, 1712. His father, Frederick William, was both the closest of economists and the strictest of disciplinarians. He would have accounts laid before him with entries even for the most tiny items as eight Pfennige for a lemon, or one Groschen for milk. He loved to pace the streets of Potsdam cane in hand, and seemed to think that no one ought to walk about them but himself. If he met a French clergyman from the Protestant exiles in Prussia, he was wont to ask him sarcastically Avez-vous lu Molière ?: — meaning to imply that he was no better than a stage-player. Once, however, he found his match in Beausobre, a son of the wellknown theologian, who, in reply to the usual Avez-vous lu Molière? question, answered boldly, Oui, Sire, et surtout Avare! If the King met the wife or daughter of a tradesman taking an afternoon stroll, he would call her an idle hussy, and bid her go and mind her business at home. All such admonitions were apt to be enforced by two or three raps of his favourite instrument, seldom absent from his hand. All these qualities of Frederick William were called into full play by the education of his son and heir. The establishment of the young prince was cut down to the narrowest limits; the cane was diligently plied; and the pursuit of the Fine Arts as well as the study of the classic authors were denounced with all the zeal of ignorance. A copy of the Royal instructions is still extant. In one passage it says: "As to the Latin language, my son is not to learn it, and I will not even allow any one to speak to me any further on the subject." In this, however, his Majesty did, perhaps, some injustice to his own acquirements, since in answer to petitions for aid, he would occasionally with his own hand write upon the margin, Non habeo Pekunia. Elsewhere in his instructions the King has added these words in French: "Histoire des Grecs et des Romains doit être abolie; elles ne sont bonnes à rien." It is greatly to the honour of Frederick that by his great genius and force of will Raumer, vol. iii. p. 27. We quote from the fourth edition just published, by the preface to which we learn that the accomplished author has now entered his ninetysecond year. It has been published by Vehse, "Geschichte des Preussischen Hofs," vol. iii. pp. 109-118. As time passed on, however, Frederick became less and less able to endure the paternal tyranny. He had now grown to be eighteen years of age. At such an age to be caned even in private was hard to bear; to be caned before strangers was intolerable. Frederick wrote to the Queen, his mother, declaring that he would no longer submit to such ill-treatment. Of the King, his father, he asked permission to travel. He was sternly refused. Frederick William had, indeed, at this period, conceived a strong aversion to his eldest son, greatly preferring his second, Prince Augustus, whom it is thought that he desired by some expedient to place in next succession to the throne. His In this well-nigh desperate position, Frederick formed a resolution nearly as desperate to effect his escape from the Prussian dominions, and take refuge with the Royal Family of England. secret confidants and partners in the scheme were two young Lieutenants, Katte and Keith by name; and a favourable opportunity was likely to present itself by the journey of the King, attended by his eldest son, to some princes and towns of southern Germany. The details of that journey may be read at length in the sparkling pages of Mr. Carlyle. their way homeward from Augsburg to Ludwigsburg, they passed close under the hill of Hohenstaufen, a conspicuous On object from the present railroad, and of his disappointment he should, he berising cone-shaped from the fruitful plain. lieved, were there then but his sword at There, on the levelled summit, where his side, have attempted, at all hazards, now scarce a stone remains, once stood to fight his way through.* the proud Stammschloss, the hereditary fortalice of the Emperors of the House of Suabia. There had dwelt in his power and glory the first Frederick, the warlike Barbarossa. At another period the Prince of Prussia, then only eighteen, might have looked with some interest at this historic hill. But then it is far more probable that, as Mr. Carlyle puts it, he "knows nothing about Staufen, cares nothing. We cannot fancy Frederick remembered Barbarossa at all."* How should he, while his own fortunes were trembling in the scales? It is very strange, we may observe in passing, that a writer so thoroughly well acquainted with Germany as is Mr. Carlyle should have misplaced this historic hill of Hohenstaufen by some fifty or sixty miles. He makes the Royal travellers see it, not as in fact they would, on their way from Augsburg to Ludwigsburg, and close to the little town of Göppingen, but far onward on proceeding from Ludwigsburg to Sinzheim. Reverting to the Royal travellers, we have now to relate that the next day's journey brought them to the small village of Steinfurth. They found no accomodation beyond two barns, the King and his suite sleeping in the one, and Frederick, with some officers, in the other. To the young prince the place seemed favourable for his plan of escape, since but three hours' riding would bring him to the ferry of the Rhine. He rose softly at two in the morning-it was now the 4th of August, 1730-dressed himself in plain clothes, took his money, and walked down into the village, where he had ordered Keith, the Lieutenant's brother, to meet him with his horses. But one of his officers, Colonel Rochow, who had been ordered to keep a strict watch over him, shewed a true military vigilance. He sprang up from his bed of hay almost as soon as Frederick left it. Overtaking the young prince in the village, he wished his Royal Highness "Good morning" in a cheerful tone, as though nothing unusual was occurring, and, when Keith came up with the horses, quietly bade him take them back again, since the royal party would not start till daybreak. Thus was Frederick foiled in his design. He afterwards told his sister that in the anguish "History of Frederick the Great," vol. ii. p. 244. The King was made acquainted with the grave suspicions entertained of the Prince's design, but as there was no positive proof, he dissembled his resentment for the time. Within a few days, however, confirmation came. There was intercepted and brought to his Majesty a letter from Frederick to Lieutenant Katte, by which the whole secret was revealed. Then, indeed, the King's fury blazed forth. He summoned the Prince to his presence, and with his own hands inflicted chastisement upon him, striking him in the face with the handle of his cane until the blood gushed forth. "Never yet did a Brandenburg face bear this!" cried Frederick in utter despair. But his complaint, however just, availed him little. He was now embarked in a separate yacht and brought down the Rhine as a stateprisoner to Wesel. From thence - still in the closest custody - he was transferred to the citadel of Cüstrin. --- Of the two Lieutenants - his accomplices, as the King would have termed them Katte, who had lingered at Berlin, was, like himself, arrested and cast into prison. Keith, having gone on to Wesel, had time to escape to the Hague, where he took shelter in the house of the Earl of Chesterfield, then ambassador from England. His pursuer, Colonel Dumoulin, arrived only a few hours after him. The English Secretary, in Lord Chesterfield's absence, conveyed him in his own coach to Scheveningen, thus enabling him to embark and reach London in security. The rage of the King was extended to his consort the Queen, and to his eldest daughter, the Princess Wilhelmine, whom he suspected, and not without some reason, of being in the Prince's confidence. To the Queen he caused the utmost agony by announcing to her, in the first instance, that her miserable son had perished in his guilty enterprise. On the Princess he bestowed a buffet of no common force just under her left breast. There remained, says Voltaire, a life-long scar at the place, "which," adds the French satirist, "her Royal Highness did me the honour to shew me!" This amiable husband and father would view the conduct of his son Fritz in only Let us next consider their furthest point in their respective journeys. With Frederick of Suabia that furthest point was Jerusalem; with Frederick of Prussia, Strasburg. one single aspect. Fritz held the rank | Suabian. He had to undergo still greater of Colonel in his service, and Fritz had perplexities and perils; he had to make attempted to cross the frontier without still larger calls on those high qualities leave; therefore Fritz had been guilty of which both of them subsequently dismilitary desertion, and was liable to the played upon the throne. penalty of that crime-death. The same judgment would hold good of Lieutenant Katte, and separate Courts-Martial were appointed to try the two offenders. It would matter little to the King if even these Courts-Martial should take a more lenient view, since on several former occasions he had thought himself entitled in the exercise of his plenary power to overrule the sentence of such tribunals whenever he had deemed the sentence not sufficiently severe. Indeed, at this period, the German princes were nearly as absolute as Turkish pashas, and in many cases used their power as badly. Meanwhile the Prince was treated with the utmost rigour at Cüstrin. On the 31st August he was expelled from the Prussian army-that army of which, in after years, he was to be the glory and pride. A coarse prison dress was assigned him; as coarse fare without knife or fork; no books beyond the Bible and Prayer-book; no free use of pen and ink. And there was worse behind. When sentence of death had at the King's personal desire been passed on Katte; when, in spite of every intercession, that doom was about to be fulfilled, then on the 6th November, by the King's orders, Frederick was held fast at the prison window to see his unhappy friend pass by. "Forgive me, my dear Katte, forgive me!" cried Frederick in his anguish. "Death is sweet for a prince so amiable," said poor Katte in reply. A few more minutes, and the headsman's sword was wielded, and Katte fell to the ground a corpse. The poor prince had fainted away. On a Saturday of March, in the year 1229, the Emperor Frederick, with his train of followers, appeared in sight of Jerusalem. He had recently acquired the city by treaty from the Sultan of Egypt, the Christians henceforth to hold it and the Saracens retaining as their own only the Mosque of Omar. It was a gain of the greatest importance to the Christian cause as it was then considered, and above all to the security and comfort of all future Christian pilgrims. But by a strange anomaly, arising from the exorbitant Papal pretensions, Frederick had the Pope for his enemy, and was at this very time under sentence of excommunication. It was forbidden to admit him to any of the offices of the Church, or even to celebrate the Mass in any town where he resided. Thus on his entering Jerusalem, while the laymen for the most part were eager to hail him as a deliverer, the ecclesiastics were no less prepared to shun him as an outcast. From the gates of the city Frederick, without alighting, rode on at once to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Not a single priest appeared to greet him, not one Te Deum was sung. Next day the Emperor, attended by his barons, revisited the church in imperial state. Then again all was solitude and silence so far as the clerical order was concerned. No prelate from the East came forward to crown him King of Jerusalem. Frederick himself walked up to the high altar, took thorns in semblance, as Godfrey de Bouillon in humble piety had first designed it and with his own hands placed it on his head. We shall not carry this narrative further, else we might have shewn in some detail the mingled moderation and firm-up from thence the crown-a crown of ness with which Frederick parried the pressing interrogatories that were more than once addressed to him, the courage with which he confronted his sentence of death as pronounced by the Court-Martial, the politic arts which (not without some foreign aid) enabled him gradually to assuage the Royal resentment, and even in time to regain the Royal favour. But our object in the parallel which we have attempted to draw has been rather to point out that at the same age of eighteen the Prussian prince was still more grievously tried in mind and body than the The ceremony over, and an address to the people having been delivered in his name, the Emperor returned through the streets, still wearing his newly acquired crown. Ever since, down to our own days, the title of King of Jerusalem has been an honorary appendage of his successors in the realms of Naples and Sicily. On the same day the Emperor went to |