Among the European sovereigns whose personality attracts 
attention also outside their own country there are four of special 
interest: Nicholas of Russia, because of the directness and uncon- 
cealed frankness with which he strives towards despotism; Louis 
Philippe, who can be regarded as the Machiavelli of our time; 
Victoria of England, the perfect model of a constitutional queen; 
and Frederick William IV, whose frame of mind, which has been 
unmistakably and clearly revealed during the two years of his 
reign, is to be the subject of closer examination here. 

What we have to say is not dictated by the hatred and desire for 
revenge of a party slighted and abhorred by him, and oppressed 
and ill-treated by his officials, nor by the bitter resentment 
engendered by the censorship, which uses freedom of the press to 
spread scandalous tales and Berlin city gossip. Der deutsche Bote is 
occupied with other matters. But in view of the dishonourable and 
base flattery which the newspapers daily lavish on the German 
sovereigns and peoples, it is absolutely essential that the rulers 
should for once be seen from a different point of view, and their 
actions and frame of mind judged as impartially as we judge those 
of any other person. 

In the last years of the previous king,? reaction in the state 
administration began to join forces with clerical reaction. Owing to 
the development of opposition to absolute freedom, the orthodox 
state, like the orthodox church, found itself compelled to return to 
its initial premises and assert the Christian principle with all its 

consequences. Thus, Protestant orthodoxy reverted to Catholicism, 
a phase which finds its most consistent and worthy representatives 
in Leo and Krummacher, and the Protestant state to the consistent 
Christian-feudal monarchy in the form in which Frederick William 
IV seeks to establish it. 

Frederick William IV is altogether a product of his time, a figure 
wholly and solely to be explained by the development of free 
thought and its struggle against Christianity. He represents the 
extreme consequence of the Prussian principle, which is seen in 
him in its latest garb but at the same time in its complete 
impotence in the face of free self-consciousness. With him the 
ideological development of the former Prussia has come to an 
end; a new version of it is not possible, and if Frederick William 
succeeds in carrying through his system in practice, Prussia must 
either adopt an entirely new principle—and this can only be the 
principle of free thought—or it must collapse, if it lacks the 
strength for such progress. 

The state which Frederick William IV is striving to establish is, 
according to his own words, the Christian state. The form which 
Christianity assumes when it wishes to appear scientific is theology. 
The essence of theology, especially in our day, is the reconciliation 
and glossing over of absolute opposites. Even the most consistent 
Christian cannot fully emancipate himself from the circumstances 
of our time; the latter compels him to introduce modifications into 
Christianity. Christianity contains premises which, if developed, 
could lead to atheism. Hence arises that form of theology. which 
has found its critic in Bruno Bauer and which with its inherent 
falsehood and hypocrisy permeates our whole life. In the sphere 
of the state, this theology has its counterpart in the present system 
of administration in Prussia. That Frederick William IV has a 
system is undeniable. It is a fully developed system of romanticism 
which is the necessary consequence of his point of view; for if one 
wants to organise a state from this point of view, one must have 
something more than a few scrappy, disconnected ideas at one’s 
disposal. Hence, as a preliminary, the theological nature of this 
system would have to be elaborated. 

By undertaking to put into effect the principle of legitimacy 
with all its consequences, the Prussian King not only allies him- 
self with the historical school of law, but develops it even further, 
almost as far as Haller’s “restoration”.* First of all, in order to 
realise the Christian state, he has to imbue the rationalist, bu- 

reaucratic state, which has become almost heathen, with Christian 
ideas, give the cult a higher status, and seek to promote partici- 
pation in it. Nor has he neglected to do so. Here we find the meas- 
ures to increase church attendance in general and by officials in 
particular, stricter observance of Sunday, the planned tightening 
of the laws on divorce, the purging of the theological faculties 
which has already partially begun, the priority given at theology 
examinations to firm belief even if coupled with poor knowledge, 
the appointment primarily of believers to many official positions, 
and many other generally known facts. They may serve as proof 
of how intensely Frederick William IV is striving to re-introduce 
Christianity directly into the state, and to institute state legislation 
on the basis of the precepts of biblical morality. But these are only 
the first, most immediate measures. The system of the Christian 
state cannot rest content with this. The next step is the separation 
_ of the church from the state, a step that goes beyond the Protes- 
tant state. In the latter the King is summus episcopus* and com- 
bines in his person supreme ecclesiastical and state power; the final 
aim of this form of state is the fusion of state and church, as He- 
gel expressed it. But just as the whole of Protestantism is a conces- 
sion to secularity, so also is the episcopate of the sovereign. It is a 
confirmation and justification of the papal primate in that it 
recognises the need for a visible supreme head of the church; on 
the other hand, however, it declares the earthly, secular power, 
state power, to be absolutely supreme and subordinates ecclesiasti- 
cal power to it. It is not an equation of the secular and the 
spiritual, but the subordination of the spiritual to the secular. For 
the sovereign was a sovereign before he became summus episcopus, 
and remains primarily the sovereign afterwards as well, without 
ever being invested with a spiritual character. The other aspect of 
the matter, of course, is that the sovereign now combines all 
power, earthly and heavenly, in his own person and, as an 
earthly God, is the consummation of the religious state. 

Since, however, such subordination is contrary to the Christian 
spirit, it is absolutely necessary for a state that claims to be 
Christian to restore to the church its independence of the state. 
This reversion to Catholicism is now quite impossible; the absolute 
emancipation of the church is equally impossible to carry out 
without undermining the fundamental basis of the state; hence it 
is necessary to resort to an intermediate system. That is precisely 

what Frederick William IV has already done in relation to the 
Catholic Church. As regards the Protestant Church, here also 
obvious facts reveal his views on this matter; in particular, one 
should mention the abolition of compulsory union and the freeing 
of the Old Lutherans from the oppression they had to suffer.’ In 
the Protestant denomination a very special situation has now 
arisen. It has no visible supreme head, and in general no unity; it 
is divided into numerous sects, and therefore the Protestant state 
cannot give it freedom in any other way than by regarding the 
various sects as corporations, and thus affording them absolute 
freedom for their internal affairs. Nevertheless, the sovereign does 
not relinquish his episcopate, but reserves for himself the right 
of confirmation and sovereignty in general, whereas, on the 
other hand, he recognises Christianity as a power over himself and 
consequently must also yield to the church. Thus, not only do the 
contradictions in which the Protestant state develops remain in 
force, despite all apparent resolution of them, but there also arises 
an intermixture with the principles of the Catholic state, which is 
bound to lead to an astonishing confusion and lack of principle. 
And that is not theological. 

' By the action taken against the Archbishop of Cologne,’ the 
Protestant state declared, through Altenstein and Frederick 
William III, that a devoted Catholic cannot be a useful citizen.!” 
This thesis, confirmed by the whole history of the Middle Ages, is 
valid not only for the Protestant state, but for any state at all. A 
person who makes his whole being, his whole life, a preparation 
for heaven cannot have the interest in earthly affairs which the 
state demands from its citizens. The state claims to be everything 
to its citizens; it does not recognise any authority over itself and, in 
general, presents itself as an absolute power. But the Catholic 
recognises God and his institution, the church, as something 
absolute and can therefore never adopt the standpoint of the state 
without inner reservation. This contradiction cannot be resolved. 
Even the Catholic state must, in the opinion of the Catholics, 
subordinate itself to the church, otherwise the Catholic will 
disassociate himself from it; how much more, therefore, will he be 
at variance with the non-Catholic state? In this respect, the action 
taken by the previous government was perfectly consistent and 
well founded; the state can only allow the freedom of the Catholic 
denomination to be undiminished so long as the latter obeys the 

existing laws.— This state of affairs could not satisfy the Christian 
King. But what was to be done? The Protestant state could not lag 
behind the Catholic Hohenstaufens, and in view of the height of 
consciousness which the state and church had attained, a definite 
solution was possible only by the subordination of one or the 
other, a subordination which for the submitting side would be 
tantamount to self-destruction. The problem had become one of 
principle, and in the face of principles the isolated case as such 
had to take second place. What did Frederick William IV do now? 
In true theological fashion, he ignored the impertinent, inconven- 
ient principles, concentrated exclusively on the actual case in 
question, which divorced from principles became completely con- 
fused, and tried to dispose of it by means of a compromise. The 
curia stood firm, and therefore it was the state that was defeated. 
This is what the renowned glorious solution of the Cologne 
discord amounts to, reduced to its true content. 

These same only superficially concealed contradictions which 
Frederick William IV evoked in the attitude of the state to the 
church, he tried to arouse also in the internal relations of the 
state. Here he could rely on the already existing theories of the 
historical school of law, and so he had a fairly easy task. The 
course of history had made the principle of absolute monarchy 
dominant in Germany, destroyed the rights of the old feudal 
estates, and elevated the King into a divinity in the state. 
Moreover, in the period between 1807 and 1812, the vestiges of 
the Middle Ages were resolutely attacked and for the most part 
swept away. And no matter how much the old was later restored, 
the legislation of that time and the Prussian Law drawn up under 
the influence of the Enlightenment remained the basis of Prussian 
legislation. Such a state of things was bound to be intolerable. 
Therefore Frederick William IV seized on all vestiges of the 
Middle Ages wherever they were to be found. The nobility with 
the right of primogeniture was shown special favour and their 
ranks strengthened by the investiture of new members on condi- 
tion that they established the right of primogeniture. The burgh- 
ers, as distinct from the nobility and peasants, were regarded 
and treated as a special social estate representing trade and 
industry. Separation of the corporations, the isolation of individual 
crafts and their approximation to the guild system were encour- 
aged, etc. In general, from the outset, all the King’s speeches and 
actions showed his special predilection for the system of corpora- 
tions, and it is precisely this that is the best indication of his 
medieval standpoint. This coexistence of privileged associations, 

which in their internal affairs can act with a certain freedom and 
independence, each of them being closely knit by similar interests, 
but which fight among themselves and try to outdo one 
another—this disintegration of the state forces to the extent of 
the complete collapse of the state, typical of the German Empire, 
is one of the most significant features of the Middle Ages. It goes 
without saying, however, that Frederick William IV does not 
intend to lead the Christian state to this pass. It is true that he 
believes himself called upon to restore the truly Christian state, 
but actually he wants only the theological appearance of the same, 
the brilliance and splendour of the Christian state but not its 
misery, oppression, disorder and self-destruction, in short, he 
wants a juste-milieu Middle Ages, just as a person like Leo wants 
from Catholicism only the resplendent cult, the church discipline, 
etc., but not the whole of Catholicism hook, line and sinker. Hence 
Frederick William is also not absolutely illiberal and despotic 
in his endeavours— God forbid—he wants to allow his Prussians 
all possible freedoms, but actually only in the form of unfreedom, 
monopoly, and privilege. He is not an out-and-out enemy of a free 
press, he will grant it, but again as a monopoly primarily of the 
learned professions. He does not wish to abolish representation 
or refuse it, he merely objects to representation of the citizen 
as such; he is aiming at representation of the social estates as 
already partially carried out in the Prussian provincial diets.'” 
In short, he does not recognise any universal, civic, or human 
rights, he admits only corporate rights, monopolies, privileges. 
He will bestow a multitude of these, as many as he can with- 
out his absolute power being restricted by positive legal pro- 
visions. Perhaps he will go even further. It is possible that 
already now, despite the K6nigsberg and Breslau assurances,'” 
he has the secret intention—when he has carried his theological 
policy far enough—to crown his labours by inaugurating a 
medieval constitution based on the social estates of the realm, and 
thereby bind the hands of his successors, who may possibly have 
other views. That would be consistent, but whether his theological 
standpoint would permit it remains to be seen. 

We have seen how vacillating and unfounded, how inconsistent 
this system is already in itself; its introduction in practice must 
inevitably give rise to new vacillations and inconsistencies. The 
cold Prussian bureaucratic state, the system of control, the strident 
state machine, do not want to know anything about splendid, 
shining, trustful romanticism. The nation as a whole is still at too 
low a level of political development to be able to see through the 

system of the Christian King. Nevertheless, hatred of the 
privileges of the nobility, and of the claims of the clergy of all 
denominations, is too deep-rooted for Frederick William not to 
meet with failure here if he acts quite openly. Hence the cautious 
system of taking soundings that he has hitherto practised, by 
which he first explored public opinion and then always left himself 
sufficient time to withdraw any too obnoxious measure. Hence 
also the method of putting his ministers into the forefront and 
disavowing them if they acted too forcefully. The remarkable 
thing is that a Prussian minister should tolerate this and not offer 
his resignation. It has already happened to Rochow, and it will 
shortly be Herr Eichhorn’s turn, although quite recently the King 
awarded him a title of honour and applauded his actions. Without 
such theological devices, Frederick William IV would long ago 
have lost the affection of the people, which he has managed to 
retain so far only because of his frank, jovial nature, his great 
kindness and affability, and his unrestrained wit, which is said not 
to spare even crowned heads. Moreover, he takes great care not to 
flaunt the obnoxious or even unavoidably bad aspects of his 
system; on the contrary, he speaks of it as though it were nothing 
but splendour, glory and freedom, and he lets himself go only on 
topics where his system gives the appearance of being more liberal 
than the existing Prussian system of tutelage; where, however, he 
would appear illiberal, he wisely restrains himself. Furthermore, 
while always applying to ordinary constitutionalism such flattering 
epithets as superficial and vulgar he has nevertheless mastered its 
terminology and uses it very skilfully in his speeches— should one 
say to express his ideas or conceal them? That is exactly how the 
modern theologians of compromise behave, who are likewise fond 
of using political terminology, imagining that by so doing they are 
adapting themselves to the demands of the time. Bruno Bauer 
bluntly calls this hypocrisy. 

As for the financial administration under Frederick William IV, 
he has not been able to keep to the kind of civil list which his 
father established for himself, who laid down by law that 2'/, 
million talers annually should be allocated to the King and his 
household out of the revenue from the domains, and that the 
remainder, together with other revenues, should be used for state 
requirements. Even if the King’s private income is taken into 
account it can be reckoned that he spends more than 2'/, 
million — yet this sum is also supposed to cover the maintenance 
of the other princes. In addition, Bulow-Cummerow has proved 
that the so-called financial accounting of the Prussian state is 

absolutely illusory.* In general, it remains a complete mystery how 
the state revenues are administered. The much-talked-of reduction 
of taxes hardly deserves mention; it could have been carried out 
long ago under the previous King had he not feared that he 
would be compelled to raise them again. 

I think I have now said enough about Frederick William IV. In 
view of his undoubtedly kind-hearted nature, it stands to reason 
that in matters not related to his theory, he honestly does what 
public opinion demands and what is really good. The question still 
remains whether he will ever be able to put his system into effect. 
To this, fortunately, the reply can only be in the negative. Since 
last year, since the time when allegedly greater freedom was 
accorded to the press, which at the present moment has again 
become the most unfree, the Prussian people has achieved an 
advance which is out of all proportion to the insignificance of that 
measure. The oppression of the censorship in Prussia shackles 
such an extraordinary mass of forces that the smallest relief 
evokes an incomparably powerful reaction on their part. Prussian 
public opinion is centring more and more round two questions: 
representative government and, especially, freedom of the press. 
The latter, whatever the attitude of the King, will be wrung from 
him as a preliminary, and once this is achieved it must be followed 
within a year by a constitution. But should a representative system 
be established, it is quite impossible to foresee what course Prussia 
will then take. One of the first consequences will be the annulment 
of the alliance with Russia, if the King has not already been 
compelled by then to abandon this consequence of his principle. 
However, there is much more that could follow, and Prussia’s 
present situation closely resembles that of France before ... but 
I refrain from any premature conclusions. 

Signed: F. O.