At that time I am writing of, Lord Keith was living in Berlin, resting
on his laurels, beloved and cherished by the king, but taking no
active part in politics, as he was over eighty years of age, but
simple and charming as ever. He received me kindly, and exprest a hope
that I should remain some time in Berlin, as he knew, to a certain
extent, the vicissitudes of my past life. I replied that I would
gladly settle there if the king would give me a suitable appointment;
but when I asked him to speak to the king for me, he replied that
that would do more harm than good. "His majesty piques himself on
knowing men better than any one else. He likes to judge them himself;
sometimes he discovers merit when no one else sees any, and sometimes
vice versa."
[Footnote 38: From the abridged edition of the "Memoirs," published in
London in 1902, the translator being anonymous.]
He advised me to write to the king and beg an interview.
"When you speak to him, you can say that you know me, and he will then
probably ask me about you; you may be sure that I shall say nothing
but what is to your credit."
"I, my lord, write to a king to whom I have no introduction? I could
not think of it."
"But you wish to speak to him, do you not?"
"Certainly."
"That is enough; your letter need contain nothing but the expression
of your desire."
"Will the king answer me?"
"Without doubt, for he answers everybody. He will tell you when it
will please him to receive you. Take my advice, and let me know how
you get on."
I did as he suggested, and wrote a simple and respectful letter,
asking when and where I might present myself to his majesty. The day
but one after I received a reply signed Frederick, acknowledging the
receipt of my letter, and saying I should find him at four o'clock
that day in the gardens at Sans Souci.
As my readers may imagine, I was delighted at having obtained a
rendezvous, and arrived at the palace an hour before the appointed
time very simply drest in black. I entered the courtyard, and as I did
not see any one, not even a sentinel, I went up a short staircase,
and opening a door, found myself in a picture-gallery. A guardian came
up and offered to show me the collection.
"I did not come here to admire these works of art," I said, "but to
speak to the king, who told me he would be in the garden."
"At this moment he is at his concert, playing the flute. 'Tis his
dessert after dinner, and he treats himself to it every day. Did he
fix any hour?"
"Yes, four o'clock, but he may have forgotten."
"He never forgets. He will be punctual, and you had better wait in the
garden."
I had not been there long, when I saw him approaching. The king
followed by his secretary and a fine spaniel. As soon as he saw me he
pronounced my name, at the same time taking off his bad old hat; he
then asked, in a terrible voice, what I wanted.