tered, were
suddenly drawn up. He saw before him a scaffold hung with black, which
he believed to be intended for himself, and gazed upon it with
shuddering apprehension. When informed that it was intended for his
friend, his grief and pain became even more acute. He passed the night
in that room, and the next morning was conducted again to the window,
beneath which he saw his condemned friend, accompanied by soldiers, an
officer, and a minister of religion.

"Oh," cried the prince, "how miserable it makes me to think that I am
the cause of your death! Would to God I were in your place!"

"No," replied Katte; "if I had a thousand lives, gladly would I lay them
down for you."

Frederick swooned as his friend moved on. In a few minutes afterwards
Katte was dead. It was long before the sorrowing prince recovered from
the shock of that cruel spectacle.

Whether the king actually intended the execution of his son is
questioned. As it was, earnest remonstrances were addressed to him from
the Kings of Sweden and Poland, the Emperor of Germany, and other
monarchs. He gradually recovered from the insanity of his rage, and, on
humble appeals from his son, remitted his sentence, requiring him to
take a solemn oath that he was converted from his infidel beliefs, that
he begged a thousand pardons from his father for his crimes, and that
he repented not having been always obedient to his father's will.

This done, Frederick was released from prison, but was kept under
surveillance at Cuestrin till February, 1732, when he was permitted to
return to Berlin. He had been there before on the occasion of his
sister's marriage, in November, 1731, the poor girl gladly accepting
marriage to a prince she had never seen as a means of escape from a king
of whom she had seen too much. With this our story ends. Father and son
were reconciled, and lived to all appearance as good friends until 1740,
when the old despot died, and Frederick succeeded him as king.

_VOLTAIRE AND FREDERICK THE GREAT._

Voltaire, who was an adept in the art of making France too hot to hold
him, had gone to Prussia, as a place of rest for his perturbed spirit,
and, in response to the repeated invitations of his ardent admirer,
Frederick the Great. It was a blunder on both sides. If they had wished
to continue friends, they should have kept apart. Frederick was
autocratic in his ways and thoughts; Voltaire embodied the spirit of
independence in thought and