, Long life, with all our
throats and all our hearts,"--and so quench you at last! Which they
managed to do, poor repentant souls. The tottering wayworn Voltaire,
over-agitated in this way, took to bed; never rose again; and on that
day two months was dead. [In DUVERNET, and still better in LONGCHAMP ET
WAGNIERE, ample account of these interesting occurrences.] His light all
done; to King Friedrich, or to any of us, no flash of radiancy from him
any more forever.

APRIL 6th, Friedrich gets on march--perhaps about 100,000 strong--for
Schonwalde, in the Neisse-Schweidnitz neighborhood; and there, in
the course of the week, has cantoned himself, and sits completing his
magazines and appliances for actual work of war. This is a considerable
brandish; and a good deal astonishes Kaunitz and the Vienna people, who
have not 10,000 at present on those Frontiers, and nothing whatever in
a state of readiness. "Dangerous really!" Kaunitz admits; and sets new
regiments on march from Hungary, from the Netherlands, from all ends
of the Earth where they are. Tempers his own insolent talk, too; but
strives to persuade himself that it is "Menace merely. He won't; he
abhors war." Kaunitz had hardly exaggerated Friedrich's abhorrence of
war; though it turned out there were things which Friedrich abhorred
still more.

Schonwalde, head-quarter of this alarming Prussian cantonment, is close
on the new Fortress of Silberberg, a beautiful new impregnability,
looking into those valleys of the Warta, of the young Neisse, which
are the road to Bohemia or from it,--where the Pandour torrents used to
issue into the first Silesian Wars; where Friedrich himself was once
to have been snapped up, but was not quite,--and only sang Mass as
Extempore Abbot, with Tobias Stusche, in the Monastery of Camenz,
according to the myth which readers may remember. No more can Pandours
issue that way; only Prussians can enter in. Friedrich's windows in the
Schloss of Schonwalde,--which are on the left hand, if you be touring in
those parts,--look out, direct upon Silberberg, and have its battlements
between them and the 3-o'clock Sun. [Schoning, iv. (Introductory
Part).] In the Town of Silberberg, Friedrich has withal a modest little
lodging,--lodging still known,--where he can alight for an hour or
a night, in the multifarious businesses that lead him to and fro. "A
beautiful place," says Schoning; "where the King stayed twelve weeks"
or more; waiting till the Bav