Joseph had been sincerely desirous of promoting the best interests of his realms; but had been bitterly disappointed in the result of most of his efforts at reform.  Just before he died, he said, “I would have engraven on my tomb, ’Here lies the sovereign who, with the best intentions, never carried a single project into execution.’” He was married twice, but both of his wives, in the prime of youth, fell victims to the small-pox, that awful disease which seems to have been a special scourge in the Austrian royal family.  As Joseph II. died without children, the crown passed to his next brother, Leopold, who was then Grand Duke of Tuscany.

Leopold II., at his accession to the throne, was forty-three years of age.  He hastened to Vienna, and assumed the government.  By prudent acts of conciliation he succeeded in appeasing discontents, and soon accomplished the great object of his desire in securing the election to the imperial throne.  He was crowned at Frankfort, October 9, 1790.  With frankness very unusual in the diplomacy of kings, he sought friendly relations with all the neighboring powers.  To Frederic William, who was now King of Prussia, he wrote: 

“In future, I solemnly protest, no views of aggrandizement will ever enter into my political system.  I shall doubtless employ all the means in my possession to defend my country, should I unfortunately be driven to such measures; but I will endeavor to give no umbrage.  To your majesty in particular, I will act as you act towards me, and will spare no efforts to preserve perfect harmony.”

To these friendly overtures, Frederic William responded in a similar spirit; but still there were unsettled points of dispute between the two kingdoms which threatened war, and large armies were gathered on their respective frontiers in preparation for the commencement of hostilities.  In 1790, after much correspondence, they came to terms, and articles of peace were signed.  At the same time an armistice was concluded with the Turks.

The spirit of liberty which had emancipated the colonies of North America from the aristocratic sway of England, shivering the scepter of feudal tyranny in France, had penetrated Hungary.  Leopold was endeavoring to rivet anew the shackles of despotism, when he received a manly remonstrance from an assembly of Hungarians which had been convened as Pest.  In the following noble terms they addressed the king.

“The fame, august sovereign, which has preceded you, has declared you a just and gracious prince.  It says that you forget not that you are a man; that you are sensible that the king was made for the people, not the people for the king.  From the rights of nations and of man, and from that social compact whence states arose, it is incontestable that the sovereignty originates from the people.  This axiom, our parent Nature has impressed on the hearts of all.  It is one of those which a just prince (and such we trust your majesty ever will be) can not dispute.  It is one of those inalienable imprescriptible rights which the people can not forfeit by neglect or disuse.  Our constitution places the sovereignty jointly in the king and people, in such a manner that the remedies necessary to be applied according to the ends of social life, for the security of persons and property, are in the power of the people.