Sad all, and soft in the moonlight of memory,--the lost Loved One all in the right as we now see, we all in the wrong!--this, it appears, was the Son's fixed opinion.

Seven years hence, here is how Friedrich concludes the HISTORY of his Father, written with a loyal admiration throughout: "We have left under silence the domestic chagrins of this great Prince: readers must have some indulgence for the faults of the Children, in consideration of the virtues of such a Father." [_OEuvres,_ i.

174 (_Memoires de Brandebourg:_ finished about 1747).] All in tears he sits at present, meditating these sad things.
In a little while the Old Dessauer, about to leave for Dessau, ventures in to the Crown-Prince, Crown-Prince no longer; "embraces his knees;" offers, weeping, his condolence, his congratulation;--hopes withal that his sons and he will be continued in their old posts, and that he, the Old Dessauer, "will have the same authority as in the late reign." Friedrich's eyes, at this last clause, flash out tearless, strangely Olympian.

"In your posts I have no thought of making change: in your posts, yes;--and as to authority, I know of none there can be but what resides in the King that is sovereign!" Which, as it were, struck the breath out of the Old Dessauer; and sent him home with a painful miscellany of feelings, astonishment not wanting among them.
At an after hour, the same night, Friedrich went to Berlin; met by acclamation enough.

He slept there, not without tumult of dreams, one may fancy; and on awakening next morning, the first sound he heard was that of the Regiment Glasenap under his windows, swearing fealty to the new King.