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his country into this abyss of embarrassment and
difficulties.’
1
No prince could be farther than Frederic from romantic attempts to rescue from oppression foreign colonies that were beyond his reach.
In his cabinet papers for several years, relating to
England,
France, the Netherlands,
Russia, and other powers, I have found no letter or part of a letter in which he allowed the interest of his kingdom to suffer from personal pique, or passion, or dynastic influences.
His cares are for the country which he rather serves than rules.
He sees and exactly measures its weakness as well as its strength; he cares for every one of its disconnected parts, and gathers them all under his wings.
But he connects his policy with the movement of the world towards light and reason, the amelioration of domestic and international law.
When in May, 1776, the Prussian minister in
London offered to submit a plan for a direct commerce with
America, so as to open a sale for Silesian cloths, and at the same time to procure American products at the cheapest rate,
2 Frederic answered: ‘The plan appears to me very problematical.
Without a fleet, how could I cause such a commerce to be respected?’
3 ‘I shall never be able to form a navy strong enough to protect it.’
4
In September, he received from his minister in
London5 a French version of the
American declaration of independence.
He had predicted that