were such good Prussians that they grieved in secret at every reverse of Frederick’s cause.  The enthusiasm penetrated even to Turkey and to the Khan of Tartary; and this respectful admiration of a whole continent outlasted the war.  When Hackert, the painter, was traveling through the interior of Sicily, a gift of honor of wine and fruit was offered him by the city council because they had heard that he was a Prussian, a subject of the great King for whom they wished thereby to show their reverence; and Muley Ismail, the emperor of Morocco, released without any ransom the crew of a ship belonging to a citizen of Emden, whom the Berbers had brought prisoner to Mogador, sent them in new clothes to Lisbon, and assured them that their King was the greatest man in the world, that no Prussian should be a prisoner in his land, and that his cruisers would never attack the Prussian flag.

Poor oppressed soul of the German people!  Long years had passed since the men between the Rhine and the Oder had felt the joy of being esteemed above others among the nations of the earth!  Now by the magic of one man’s power everything was transformed.  The German citizen, awakened as from an anxious dream, looked out upon the world and within to his own heart.  Men had long vegetated quietly, without a past in which they could rejoice, without a great future in which they could hope.  Now all at once they felt that they, too, had a share in the honor and the greatness of the world; that a king and his people, all of their blood, had given to the German national idea a golden setting, and to the history of civilization a new meaning.  Now they were experiencing the struggles, ventures, and victories of a great man.  Work on in your study, peaceful thinker, fantastic dreamer!  You have learned over-night to look down with a smile upon foreign ways and to expect great things of your own talent.  Try to realize, now, what flows from your heart!

But while the youthful power of the people shook its wings with enthusiastic warmth, how did the great prince feel who was struggling ceaselessly against his enemies?  The inspiring cry of the people rang in his ears as a feeble sound.  The King heard it almost with indifference.  His heart grew calmer and colder.  To be sure, passionate hours of sorrow and heart-rending cares came to him over and over again.  He kept them hidden from his army; his calm face became harder, his brow more deeply furrowed, and his expression more rigid.  Only before a few intimates he opened his heart from time to time, and then for a moment the sorrow of the man who had reached the limits of human possibilities broke forth.