TO THE PRINCE ROYAL OF PRUSSIA, SINCE KING OF PRUSSIA.
FEW kings, my prince, can with enlightened mind
Instruct the people to their care consigned;
Few Antoninuses on earth appear,
For since that hero to all Rome so dear,
Since great Aurelius, wonder of his age,
Who shone as monarch, warrior, and sage,
Did ever king like him the truth explore,
Like him give ear to sacred wisdom’s lore?
But two or three of those who wore a crown,
Were held philosophers of high renown;
Others appear as vulgar to your eyes,
The tyrant slaves of pleasure you despise,
Who burdened earth, or else destruction hurled,
Slept on the throne, or wide laid waste the world.
The world can’t see them in a proper light,
To reign is the grand art, if courts say right.
But what’s this art so boasted of by kings?
What are of all their policy the springs?
He speaks the word, and all around obey;
Just as he smiles or frowns, they’re sad or gay.
Is it then hard to play the monarch’s part?
Is then to govern slaves so great an art?
But error’s cup break with a manly hand,
Repel the flattering, fawning, craving band,
Aspiring prelates’ wily arts defeat,
Justice secure upon her awful seat,
From learned bodies vain debates to chase,
And make vain sophistry to truth give place;
To instruct at once the learned, and support,
These are the glories of the Prussian court;
High station’s lustre ignorance can deface,
Which joined to grandeur makes even grandeur base.
A formal envoy of the king of Spain
Two English artists importuned in vain,
For leave, upon a mountain’s top to state,
By a barometer, air’s real weight.
The envoy could with ease have helped the schools,
But, though a fool, he thought the artists fools,
Shall I the folly of a pope reveal?
Show cardinals, with apostolic zeal,
Teaching mankind in their illustrious codes,
‘Twas sinful to believe the antipodes.
How many kings and sultans dire alarms
Have felt at an eclipse and dreaded charms?
A monarch who to indolence gives way
Is by the vilest wretches led astray.
Star-gazers, chemists, and dull monks, contrive
To bubble him, and on his folly thrive.
By avarice to alchemists betrayed,
He thinks each piece with treasures will be paid;
The astrologer he asks, if heaven benign
Permits to go to council, or to dine;
As knavish monks direct, he God adores,
And to escape from hell gives up his stores.
Such kings we should no more than idols prize;
Idols who see not, though endowed with eyes.
A king who has both sense and talents rare,
We justly to the Almighty may compare.
Knowledge of arts, ‘tis true, should not alone
Distinguish him who sits upon a throne.
Of all the kings in sacred history named,
Who for his royal virtues was most famed?
‘Twas Solomon, by God himself inspired,
Beloved in Sion, by the world admired;
Ruled by a sage, his subjects all were blessed,
Of all earth yields they were by trade possessed:
His navy visited each distant shore,
And still new wealth to famed Judæa bore:
Thus fleets to Bordeaux, and to London, bring
All Asia’s treasures at returning spring,
To him not dazzled by so bright a throne,
The art to enjoy what he possessed was known.
‘Tis thus wise monarchs o’er their subjects reign;
Knowledge, if not to prudence joined, is vain.
A monarch should not, amidst a thousand cares,
Neglect for love of money state affairs.
To you that English monarch’s history’s known,
James, of that name the first who filled the throne,
Who in sad exile let his nephew die,
Though he could necessary aid supply;
His nephew’s wrongs the king should have redressed,
Relieved the German towns by force oppressed;
He should, by force, insulting foes have quelled,
And between nations a just balance held:
Not as a doctor, labor to be great,
And tracts pedantic to Christ dedicate.
No king of parts in pedantry delights,
He justly thinks, and like a hero fights:
Such Julian was, ill-known to vulgar eyes,
Dreaded, yet loved, and though a warrior, wise:
Such Cæsar, who to all things great aspired,
Who conquered Rome, and was by Rome admired:
Your model he had been in every art,
Had he not banished justice from his heart.