ie together. I do not bewail the loss of
your heart, but rather your utter incapacity and want of judgment. I
tell you this plainly, for with one who has perhaps but a few days to
live, there is no use of deception. I wish you more happiness than has
fallen to my lot, and hope that your misfortunes and disappointments
may teach you to act with more wisdom and judgment where matters of
importance are concerned. Many of the painful events I now look forward
to, I ascribe to you. You and your children will suffer from their
results much more than myself. Be assured that I have always loved you,
and will continue to do so until my death. Your brother, FREDERICK."

When the king had finished his letter, he read it over. "I cannot
take back one word I have said," murmured he, softly. "Were he not my
brother, he should be court-martialled. But history shall not have to
relate more than one such occurrence of a Hohenzollern. Enough family
dramas and tragedies have occurred in my reign to furnish scandalous
material for future generations; I will not add to them. My brother can
withdraw quietly from these scenes--he can pray while we fight--he can
cultivate the peaceful arts while we are upon the battle-field, offering
up bloody sacrifices to Mars. Perhaps we will succeed in gaining an
honorable peace for Prussia, and then Augustus William may be a better
king than I have been. Prussia still clings to me--she needs me."

He sealed the letter, then calling his valet, ordered him to send it off
immediately. As he disappeared, the king's countenance became once more
clouded and disturbed. "Life makes a man very poor," said he, softly;
"the longer he lives, the more solitary he becomes. How rich I was
when I began life--how rich when I mounted the throne! Possessing many
friends, sisters, brothers, and many charming illusions. The world
belonged to me then, with all its joy, all its glory. And now? Where are
these friends? Lost to me, either by death or inconstancy! Where are
my brothers, sisters? Their hearts have turned from me--their love has
grown cold! Where are my joyous illusions? Scattered to the winds! Alas,
I am now undeceived, and if the whole world seemed at one time to belong
to me, that little spot of earth, paid for with blood and anguish, is
no longer mine. Every illusion but one has been torn from my heart--the
thirst for glory still remains. I have bid adieu to love, to happiness,
but I still believe in fame, and m