Page:Works of Thomas Carlyle - Volume 12.djvu/25



fourscore years ago, there used to be seen sauntering on the terraces of Sans Souci, for a short time in the after-noon, or you might have met him elsewhere at an earlier hour, riding or driving in a rapid business manner on the open roads or through the scraggy woods and avenues of that intricate amphibious Potsdam region, a highly interesting lean little old man, of alert though slightly stooping figure ; whose name among strangers was King Friedrich the Second, or Frederick the Great of Prussia, and at home among the common people, who much loved and esteemed him, was Vater Fritz,—Father Fred,—a name of familiarity which had not bred contempt in that instance. He is a King every inch of him, though without the trappings of a King. Presents him-self in a Spartan simplicity of vesture : no crown but an old military cocked-hat,—generally old, or trampled and kneaded into absolute softness, if new ;—no sceptre but one like Agamemnon's, a walking-stick cut from the woods, which serves also as a riding-stick (with which he hits the horse 'between the ears,' say authors);—and for royal robes, a mere soldier's blue coat with red facings, coat likely to be old, and sure to

VOL. I.