LETTER LXVIII.

Berlin.

Berlin is certainly one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. The streets are built in a very regular manner, and of a commodious breadth. In the new town they are perfectly straight. Frederick-street is reckoned two English miles and a half, or a French league, in length. Others which go off at right angles from that, are a mile, or a mile and a half long.

Some people assert, that Berlin covers as much ground as Paris. These are not Frenchmen, as you will readily believe; neither am I of that opinion, but it certainly approaches much nearer to Paris in size than in number of inhabitants; Berlin is undoubtedly more than half the size of Paris, yet I am convinced it does not contain above a fifth of the inhabitants.

There are a few very magnificent buildings in this town. The rest are neat houses, built of a fine white free-stone, generally one, or at most two stories high. Here, as at Potsdam, the finishing within does not correspond with the elegance of the outside, and the soldiers are quartered on the ground-floor in rooms looking to the street. The principal edifices are the King’s palace, and that of Prince Henry. Both of these are very magnificent. The arsenal, which is a noble structure, is built in the form of a square. We were informed, that at present it contains arms for 200,000 men. I am convinced this is no exaggeration.

The new Roman Catholic church is by far the most elegant place of worship in the city. The King allows the free exercise of every religion over all his dominions. He thinks the smallest controul over men’s consciences highly unjust. He even has the delicacy not to influence them by his example, and offends no religion, by giving a preference to any one in particular.

On the front of the opera-house, which is a very beautiful structure, is this inscription:

FREDERICUS REX, APOLLINI ET MUSIS.

After observing the inscriptions and ornaments of the palaces and other public buildings, the new method of decorating the churches, the number of Mercuries, Apollos, Minervas, and Cupids, that are to be met with in this country, a stranger might be led to suspect, that the Christian religion was exploded from the Prussian dominions, and old Jupiter and his family restored to their ancient honours.

There is an equestrian statue of William, the Great Elector, on the new bridge over the Spree. This is highly esteemed as a piece of fine workmanship.—In the corner of one of the squares, is a statue of Marshal Schwerin. He is represented holding the ensign with which he advanced at the famous battle of Prague.—Perceiving his troops on the point of giving way, he seized this from the officer’s hands whose duty it was to carry it, and marched towards the enemy, calling out, Let all but cowards follow me. The troops, ashamed to abandon their general, charged once more, and turned the fortune of the day.—But the brave old Marshal was killed, in the eighty-fourth year of his age.—Do not you think the trouble of living so long was amply repaid by such a death?

Instead of saints or crucifixes, the King intends, that the churches of Berlin shall be ornamented with the portraits of men who have been useful to the state. Those of the Marshals Schwerin, Keith, Winterfield, and some others, are already placed in the great Lutheran church.

The society into which strangers may be admitted in this capital, is not various or extensive. The Prussian officers of the higher ranks, whose time is not entirely engrossed, like that of their inferiors, by the duties of their profession, live mostly with their own families, or with each other. Exclusive of other reasons which might determine them to this, it is understood, that the King does not approve of their forming intimacies with foreign ministers, or with strangers.

The D—— of H—— followed the King to Magdeburg to see the reviews there, and has since made a tour as far as Leipsic, with two English gentlemen. My connection with him, and the letter I brought from the Duchess of Brunswick, have procured me invitations, which I should otherwise have had but a small chance of receiving. I passed a day lately at a very pleasant villa, about six miles from Berlin, belonging to the King’s brother, Prince Ferdinand. He is married to a sister of the Princess of Hesse Cassel’s. The Princess of Prussia was there at the same time, and Prince Frederick of Brunswick, with his Princess, who is remarkably pretty. I have the honour of supping sometimes with Prince Frederick, who lives constantly at Berlin. To the spirit and vivacity common to all his family, he adds a taste for poetry, and has composed some dramatic pieces in the French language, which have been represented on a little theatre in his own house, and in private societies at Berlin.—There has been a continued round of feasting all the last week.

The Princess of Prussia gave a breakfast at a garden in the Park, to which a large company was invited. There was dancing, which continued all the forenoon. Upon all these occasions, I saw none of that state and ceremony of which the Germans are accused. Those of the highest rank behaved with the greatest ease and affability to every person present, and joined in the country-dances, without observing any form or etiquette.

The minister, Count Finkenstein, gave a great dinner and ball, on account of the marriage of one of his sons. The Count Reuse, and some others, have also given entertainments; but the chief and permanent society is to be found at the houses of the foreign ministers who reside here. I have been introduced to all of them by Mr. Harris, his Majesty’s envoy extraordinary, who lives here in a style which does honour to his country and himself.

We have received very great civilities also from Baron Van Swieten, minister from, the Court of Vienna, a man of wit and erudition. He is son to the celebrated physician, whose works are so highly esteemed all over Europe. There are two or three general officers who are pretty often at the houses of these ministers, and entertain strangers occasionally at home.—Besides those I have named, there are very few of the King of Prussia’s servants who have any connection with the strangers that come to Berlin. I have had the happiness of forming an acquaintance here with two very agreeable French gentlemen, the Marquis de Laval, son of the Duke of that name, and the Comte de Clermont, grandson of that Mons. de Saint Hillaire, whose arm was carried off by the same bullet which killed Marshal Turenne. You remember the sentiment which St. Hillaire expressed to his son, who lamented his wound—A sentiment which proved, that his magnanimity was equal to that of the hero whom he so greatly preferred to himself.

Adieu.