LETTER LXX.

Berlin.

Nothing surprised me more, when I first came to Berlin, than the freedom with which the people spoke of the measures of government, and the conduct of the King. I have heard political topics, and others which I should have thought still more ticklish, discussed here with as little ceremony as at a London coffee-house. The same freedom appears in the booksellers’ shops, where literary productions of all kinds are sold openly. The pamphlet lately published on the division of Poland, wherein the King is very roughly treated, is to be had without difficulty, as well as other performances, which attack some of the most conspicuous characters with all the bitterness of satire.

A government, supported by an army of 180,000 men, may safely disregard the criticisms of a few speculative politicians, and the pen of the satirist. While his Majesty retains the power of disposing of the lives and properties of his subjects as his wisdom shall direct, he allows them the most perfect freedom to amuse themselves with as many remarks or jokes on his conduct as they please.

The mind of this monarch is infinitely superior to that gossiping disposition, by which the despicable race of whisperers and retailers of scandal thrive at some courts. Convinced that the same perfidy, which can betray a real conversation, may invent a false one, he listens to no little, malicious tales of what has passed in private companies, or during the hours of convivial mirth. Any person who should attempt to repeat anecdotes of this kind to him, would be driven from his presence with disgrace. He treats with equal contempt all anonymous letters, and every kind of injurious information, when the informer declines appearing openly in support of his assertions.

This great Prince is so perfectly devoid of suspicion and personal fear, that he resides at Sans-Souci without any guard whatever. An orderly serjeant, or corporal only, attends there in the day-time to carry occasional orders to the garrison at Potsdam, whither he always returns in the evening. In this house, where the King sleeps every night, there are not above ten or a dozen persons, the servants included. When you recollect that Sans-Souci is a solitary mansion, about half a league from Potsdam, where all the guards are shut up, and therefore could be of no manner of use, in case of any attempt on the King’s person during the night; when you consider that he, who lies thus defenceless and exposed, is a despotic monarch, who governs by the dictates of his own will and understanding, without minding the ill-humour or discontent of any man, or any set of men, and who, no doubt, has many inveterate enemies, you must confess, that all these circumstances argue great magnanimity.

Berlin, though not a fortified, is certainly a very military town. When all the soldiers of the garrison are present, they amount to 30,000. In their general conduct they are quiet, and the police of the town is pretty well regulated. Yet there are some kinds of irregularities which prevail in the highest degree. Public courtezans are more numerous here than in any town in Europe, in proportion to the number of inhabitants. They appear openly at the windows in the day-time, beckon to passengers as they walk in the streets, and ply for employment in any way they please, without disturbance from the magistrate.

It seems to be a received opinion here, that the peace and happiness of the community are not interrupted by this species of licentiousness; or perhaps it is believed, that an attempt to restrain it would be attended with consequences worse than the thing itself. Therefore nobody is allowed to molest or abuse those who have chosen this for a trade, and as little attention is paid to customers, who frequent the chambers of those ladies, as if they stept into any other house or shop, to purchase any other commodity.

Another species of debauchery is said to prevail in this capital.—I imagine, however, that what is related on that nauseous subject is greatly exaggerated.

The better kind of citizens and manufacturers live entirely among those of their own rank, and without affecting the manners of the courtiers, or stooping to the mean debauchery of the commonalty, maintain the decency, plainness, and honesty of the German character.

His Prussian Majesty has applied his attention to no object with so much zeal, and so little success, as to the establishing of commerce in his dominions. All his efforts, in order to this, have been rendered abortive by injudicious taxes, by monopolies, and other restrictions. Commerce, like the wild commoners of the air and the forest, when confined or shackled, immediately droops and dwindles, or, being alarmed, like Love,

“—— —— —— at sight of human ties,

Spreads its light wings, and in a moment flies.”