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of these follies have been printed among my works ;but, fortunately, not the thirtieth part. I took the libertyto send him a very beautiful writing desk ; he was kindenough to present me with some trifles in amber; andthe coffee-house wits of Paris fancied, with horror, thatmy fortune was made. He sent a young Courlander,named Keiserling,—no bad writer of French verses him-self,— from the confines of Pomerania , to us at Cirey.
We gave him a fete, and a splendid illumination inwhich the cipher of the prince was hung with lamps,with the device, “ The Hope of the Human Race.” Inhis pique, Voltaire speaks too slightingly. Had he notbeen a prince, the correspondence of Frederic wasworth having ; it is full of good sense and philosophi-cal remark. It was a more disagreeable task to correcthis verses. Yet these are by no means bad ; they arenearly as good as Voltaire ’s own. There is less pre-tension, but often more spirit. The whole mass hasno real claim to be called poetry; and in these daysnobody reads either: but when they were written,and had the gloss of novelty, and the interest of pass-ing events and living men appended, they were at leastrespectable specimens of a talent, which in its ownsphere could attain much higher things.
The residence at Cirey was broken up by the neces-sity of attending to a lawsuit of madame du Chatelet at Brussels, and she and her husband and Voltaire proceeded thither. At this period Frederic succeeded 1740 .to the throne of Prussia. The demonstrations of his Afiat.friendship for Voltaire continued as fervent as ever. 46 '“ See in me only, I entreat you," he writes, “ azealous citizen, a somewhat sceptical philosopher, but atruly faithful friend. For God ’s sake write to mesimply as a man; join with me in despising titles,names, and all exterior splendour.” Voltaire replied,
“ Your majesty orders me, when I write, to think ofhim less as a king than as a man. This is a commandafter my own heart. I know not how to treat a king ;but I am quite at my ease with a man whose head andd 3