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
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