a lack of reserve in the
discussion of the most dubious relations were pronounced even there.
After a visit to the dissolute court of Dresden, Prince Frederick
began to behave like other princes of his time, and generally found
good comrades among his father's younger officers. We know little
about him at that period, but may conclude that he ran some risk, not
of becoming depraved, but of wasting valuable years in a spendthrift
life among unworthy companions. It certainly was not alone the
increasing dissatisfaction of his father which at that time destroyed
his peace of mind and tossed him about aimlessly, but quite as much
that inner discontent, which leads an unformed youth the more wildly
astray the greater the secret demands are which his mind makes on
life.

He determined to flee to England. How the flight failed, how the anger
of the military commander, Frederick William, flamed up against the
deserting officer, every one knows. With the days of his imprisonment
in Kuestrin and his stay in Ruppin, his years of serious education
began. The terrible experiences he had been through had aroused new
strength in him. He had endured, with princely pride, all the terrors
of death and of the most terrible humiliation. He had reflected in the
solitude of his prison on the greatest riddle of life--on death and
what is beyond. He had realized that there was nothing left for him
but submission, patience, and quiet waiting. But bitter, heart-rending
misfortune is a school which develops not only the good--it fosters
also many faults. He learned to keep his counsel hidden in the depth
of his soul, and to look upon men with suspicion, using them as his
instruments, deceiving and flattering them with prudent serenity in
which his heart had no share. He was obliged to flatter the cowardly
and vulgar Grumbkow, and to be glad when he finally had won him over
to his side. For years he had to take the utmost pains, over and over
again, to conquer the displeasure and lack of confidence of his stern
father. His nature always revolted against such humiliation, and he
tried by bitter mockery to give expression to his injured self-esteem.
His heart, which warmed toward everything noble, prevented him from
becoming a hardened egoist; but he did not grow any the milder or more
conciliatory, and long after he had become a great man and wise ruler,
there remained in him from this time of servitude some trace of petty
cunning. The lion somet