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Such is the destiny of great men; their superior genius exposes them to the poisoned arrows of calumny and envy. I am about getting a Translation made of the Treatise on God, the Soul, and the World," Translation done by an Excellency Suhm, as has been hinted, "from the pen of the same Author.
The banker gave me this package for you. I believe it is from Petersburg." "From Suhm," said the prince, with a happy smile, and hastily breaking the seal, he drew from the package a letter and several books.
"It is, then, a friend who is dead," said Frederick, turning pale. "Yes, sire, your best beloved." The king said nothing; sinking in the chair, and grasping the arms convulsively, he leaned his head back, and in a low voice asked, "Is it Suhm?" "Yes, it is Suhm; he died in Marschau. Here is his last letter to your highness; his brother sent it to me, that I might hand it to your majesty."
He shines there among the fashionable philosophical classes; underhand, perhaps does a little in the volunteer political line withal; being a very busy pushing gentleman. Writes flowing elegant French, in a softly trenchant, somewhat too all-knowing style. High manners traceable in him; but nothing of the noble loyalty, natural politeness and pious lucency of Suhm.
Give the cook his orders, and tell the ladies and gentlemen assembled in the garden that I will be with them immediately." The prince was now alone; he opened the letter he had received with the gold; his eye rested lovingly upon the handwriting of his distant friend, and his heart glowed as he read the words of friendship, admiration, and love from Suhm.
The Crown-Prince, now sixteen, and not in the best favor with his Father, had not been intended to accompany; was to stay at Potsdam and diligently drill: nevertheless an estafette came for him from the gallant Polish Majesty; Wilhelmina had spoken a word to good Suhm, who wrote to his King, and the hospitable message came.
The king uttered a cry of anguish, and clasped his hands before his pallid face. Great tears ran down his cheeks; with a hasty movement he shook them from his eyes, opened and read the letter. As he read it he sighed and sobbed aloud: "Suhm is dead! Suhm is dead! the friend who loved me so sincerely, even as I loved him. That noble man, who combined intellect, sincerity, and sensibility.
Suhm is also helpful in finance difficulties, which are pretty frequent; works out subventions, loans under a handsome form, from the Czarina's and other Courts. Which is an operation of the utmost delicacy; perilous, should it be heard of at Potsdam. All these loans, I will hope, were accurately paid one day, as that from George II. was, in "rouleaus of new gold."
He has to go home empty-handed; manages to leave with Herr von Suhm, who took care of it for us, that Anecdote of the Crown-Prince's behavior under cannon-shot from Philipsburg last year; and does nothing else recordable, in Berlin.
My heart tells me to write a few lines at once to Suhm, expressing my unshaken friendship, my enduring love." Frederick seated himself, and wrote one of those soul-inspiring letters for which he was so celebrated, and which ended thus: "In a short time my fate will be decided! You can well imagine that I am not at ease in my present condition.
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