It is the duty of Frederick’s biographer to mark from Frederick’s point of view the stages of this second education. The first period lasted rather more than two and a half years, from November, 1730, to June, 1733, and therefore roughly corresponds with the period of residence at an English university which is usually enjoyed at the age at which the Crown Prince had then arrived. This course began and ended with a crime. Katte was done to death for a military offence which a tribunal representing the most sternly disciplined army in the world had declared not to be death-worthy—though their commander-in-chief and king demanded another verdict. A fortnight later, that is, on November 20, 1730, Frederick was admitted as a humble participant in the proceedings of the local Chamber of War and Domains—to assist in duties which he privately styled the work of brigands. He was to study agriculture under the Director, Hille, and in general to survey the foundations of the Prussian State.
He was still a close prisoner living at Cüstrin under the heavy cloud of the King’s displeasure. At Christmas he fell ill and his father wrote on the margin of a report which told him of it: “If there were any good in him he would die, but I am certain that he will not die, for weeds never disappear.” He was forbidden all books save bible, hymn-book, and Arndt’s _True Christianity_, a work of devotion dear to humble believers in many lands. Geometry and fortifications were classed as “amusement” and forbidden, along with cards, music, dancing, summer-clothing, and meals outside the house. Again, as in the early days of August, Frederick William entrusted him to the care of three nobles. These were to refuse to converse with him on any subject save “the Word of God, the constitution of the land, manufactures, police, agriculture, accounts, leases, and lawsuits.” Such a scheme of education, aimed at compounding a king out of a recluse and an attorney, it is hardly necessary to discuss. We hardly know whether to think the King a simpleton for imagining that he would be obeyed, or a fool for continuing to issue minute directions if he knew that he would not. What is certain is that Frederick’s household revelled in forbidden gifts, diverted itself as best it could, and pressed unceasingly for further freedom. One pleasure, as Frederick William knew in his heart, sweetened his son’s captivity,—in exile he was at least safe from the sight of his father.