Taxes were not light by any means, but everybody knew that the king was not squandering the money. Frederick was not a man to lavish fortunes on worthless courtiers; he diligently examined all accounts; and his officials dared not be extravagant for fear of being corporally punished, or, what was worse, of being held up to ridicule by the cruel wit of their royal master.
It was only this marvelous economy and careful planning that enabled Prussia to support an army of 200,000 men and to embark upon a policy of conquest, by which Silesia and a third of Poland were won. On the army alone Frederick was willing to spend freely, but even in this department he made sure that Prussia received its money's worth. Tireless drill, strict discipline, up-to-date arms, and well-trained officers made the Prussian army the envy and terror of eighteenth- century Europe.
In dwelling upon his seemingly successful attempts to govern in the light of reason and common sense, we have almost forgotten Frederick's love of philosophy. Let us recur to it before we take leave of him; for benevolent despotism was only one side of the philosophical monarch. He liked to play his flute while thinking how to outwit Maria Theresa; he delighted in making witty answers to tiresome reports and petitions; he enjoyed sitting at table with congenial companions discussing poetry, science, and the drama. True, he did not encourage the rising young German poets Lessing and Goethe. He thought their work vulgar and uninspired. But he invited literary Frenchmen to come to Berlin, and he put new life into the Berlin Academy of Science. Even Voltaire was for a time a guest at Frederick's court, and the amateurish poems written in French by the Prussian king were corrected by the "prince of philosophers."
[Sidenote: Catherine the Great of Russia, 1762-1796]
While Frederick was demonstrating that "the prince is but the first servant of the state," Catherine II was playing the enlightened despot in Russia. In the course of her remarkable career, [Footnote: See above, pp. 380 ff.] Catherine found time to write flattering letters to French philosophers, to make presents to Voltaire, and to invite Diderot to tutor her son. She posed, too, as a liberal-minded monarch, willing to discuss the advisability of giving Russia a written constitution, or of emancipating the serfs. Schools and academies were established, and French became the language of polite Russian society.
At heart Catherine was little moved by desire for real reform or by pity for the peasants. She had the heavy whip—the knout—applied to the bared backs of earnest reformers. Her court was scandalously immoral, and she violated the conventions of matrimony without a qualm. For some excuse or another, the promised constitution was never written, and the lot of the serfs tended to become actually worse. To the governor of Moscow, the tsarina wrote: "My dear prince, do not complain that the Russians have no desire for instruction; if I institute schools, it is not for us,—it is for Europe, where we must keep our position in public opinion. But the day when our peasants shall wish to become enlightened, both you and I will lose our places." This shows clearly that while Catherine wished to be considered an enlightened despot, she was at heart quite the reverse. Her true character was not to be made manifest until the outbreak of the French Revolution, and then Catherine of Russia was to preach a crusade against reform.
[Sidenote: Charles III of Spain, 1759-1788]
There were other benevolent despots, however, who were undoubtedly sincere. Charles III, with able ministers, made many changes in Spain. [Footnote: Charles III had previously been king of Naples (1735-1759) and had instituted many reforms in that kingdom] The Jesuits were suppressed; the exaggerated zeal of the Inquisition was effectually checked; police were put on the streets of Madrid; German farmers were encouraged to settle in Spain; roads and canals were built; manufactures were fostered; science was patronized; and the fleet was nearly doubled. When Charles III died, after a reign of almost thirty years, the revenues of Spain had tripled, and its population had increased from seven to eleven millions.
[Sidenote: Joseph I of Portugal, 1750-1777]
Charles's neighbor, Joseph I of Portugal, possessed in the famous Pombal a minister who was both a typical philosopher and an active statesman. Under his administration, industry, education, and commerce throve in Portugal as in Spain. Gustavus III (1771-1792) of Sweden similarly made himself the patron of industry and the friend of the workingman. In Italy, the king of Sardinia was freeing his serfs, while in Tuscany several important reforms were being effected by Duke Leopold, a younger brother of the Habsburg emperor, Joseph II.