Such is the picture of Frederick the Great in his later days; but now we will turn back our panoramic views, and behold the setting of his early years: and, to a clearer understanding of those events, an aid may be found in glancing at his native country, Prussia. For many centuries the country on the southern coasts of the Baltic Sea was inhabited by wild tribes of barbarians, almost as savage as the beasts which roamed in their forests. After a time the tribes, tamed and partly civilized, produced a race of tall and manly proportions, fair in complexion, with flaxen hair, stern aspect, great physical strength, and most formidable foes in battle. Centuries passed, of which history notes only wars and woes, when from this chaotic barbarism order emerged. Small states were organized, and a political life began. In 1700 one of the petty provinces was called the Marquisate of Brandenburg, whose marquis was Frederick, of the family of Hohenzollern. To the east of this province was a duchy, called Prussia, which was at length added to the domains of Frederick, the marquis of Brandenburg, and he obtained from the emperor of Germany the recognition of his dominions as a kingdom, and assumed the title of Frederick I. of Prussia. On the 16th of November, 1700, his ambassador returned triumphantly from Vienna. “The Kaiser has consented; we are to wear a royal crown on the top of our periwig.” Thus Prussia became a kingdom. When Frederick was crowned king of Prussia, most gorgeous was the pomp, most royal was the grandeur, of the imposing ceremonies. Carlyle says:— “The magnificence of Frederick’s processionings into Konigsburg, and of his coronation ceremonials there, what pen can describe it! what pen need! Folio volumes with copper-plates have been written on it, and are not yet all pasted in band-boxes or slit into spills. ‘The diamond buttons of his majesty’s coat’ (snuff-colored or purple, I cannot recollect) cost £1,500 apiece. By this one feature judge what an expensive Herr. Streets were hung with cloth, carpeted with cloth, no end of draperies and cloth; your oppressed imagination feels as if there was cloth enough of scarlet and other bright colors to thatch the Arctic Zone; with illuminations, cannon-salvos, fountains running wine. Frederick himself put the crown on his head, ‘King here in my own right, after all,’ and looked his royalest, we may fancy,—the kind eyes of him, almost fierce for moments, and the ‘cheerfulness of pride’ well blending with something of awful.”