ners;
"he is absorbed in the arts and sciences, and, above all other things,
he lives to promote the peaceful prosperity of his people." The balance
of power and foreign relations troubled him no longer; he wished for no
conquests, and thought not of war. In the morning he was occupied
with scientific works, wrote in his "Histoire de mon Temps," or to his
friends, and took part in the daily-recurring duties of the government.
The remainder of the day was passed in the garden of Sans-Souci, in
pleasant walks and animated conversation, closing always with music.
Concerts took place every evening in the apartments of the king, in
which he took part, and he practised difficult pieces of his own or
Quantz's composition, under Quantz's direction. From time to time he was
much occupied with his picture-gallery, and sent Gotzkowsky to Italy to
purchase the paintings of the celebrated masters.

King Frederick appeared to have reached his goal; at least, that which,
during the storm of war, he had often called his ideal; he could devote
his life to philosophy and art in the enchanting retirement of his
beloved Sans-Souci. The tumult and discord of the world did not trouble
him; in fact, the whole world seemed to be at peace, and all Europe was
glad and happy.

Maria Theresa was completely bound by the last peace contract at
Dresden; besides, the two Silesian wars had weakened and impoverished
Austria, and time was necessary to heal her wounds before she dared make
a new attempt to reconquer the noble jewel of Silesia, which Frederick
had torn from her crown. Notwithstanding her pious and Christian
pretensions, she hated Frederick with her whole heart.

England had allied herself with Russia. France was at the moment too
much occupied with the pageants which the lovely Marquise de Pompadour
celebrated at Versailles, not to be in peace and harmony with all the
world; yes, even with her natural enemy, Austria. Count Kaunitz, her
ambassador at Paris, had, by his wise and adroit conduct, banished the
cloud of mistrust which had so long lowered between these two powers.

This was the state of things at the close of the year 1775. Then was the
general quiet interrupted by the distant echo of a cannon. Europe was
startled, and rose up from her comfortable siesta to listen and inquire
after the cause of this significant thunderbolt. This roar of cannon,
whose echo only had been heard, had its birth far, far away in America.
The cannon