receive him into his life-guard.  The king, charmed by his handsome and martial figure, by his cultivated intellect and wonderful memory, had made him cornet in his cavalry guard, and a few weeks later he was promoted to a lieutenancy.  Though but eighteen years of age, he had the distinguished honor to be chosen by the king to exercise two regiments of Silesian cavalry, and Frederick himself had expressed his content, not only in gracious but affectionate words. [Footnote:  “Memoires de Frederic Baron von Trenck,” traduits par Lui-meme su l’original allemande.] It is well known that the smile of a prince is like the golden rays of the sun:  it lends light and glory to every object upon which it rests, and attracts the curious gaze of men.

The handsome young lieutenant, basking in the rays of royal favor, was naturally an object of remark and the most distinguished attentions to the circle of the court.  More than once the king had been seen to lay his arm confidingly upon the shoulder of Trenck, and converse with him long and smilingly; more than once had the proud and almost unapproachable queen-mother accorded the young officer a gracious salutation; more than once had the princesses at the fetes of the last winter selected him as their partner, and all those young and lovely girls of the court declared that there was no better dancer, no more attentive cavalier, no more agreeable companion than Frederick von Trenck—­than this youthful, witty, merry officer, who surpassed all his comrades, not, only in his height and the splendor of his form, but in talent and amiability.  It was therefore to be expected that this proud aristocracy would seek to draw the favorite of the king and of the ladies into their circle.

Frederick von Trenck was of too sound and healthy a nature, he had too much strength of character, to be made vain or supercilious by these attentions.  He soon, however, accustomed himself to them as his right; and he was scarcely surprised when the king, after his promotion, sent him two splendid horses from his own stable, and a thousand thalers, [Footnote:  Ibid.] at that time a considerable sum of money.

This general adulation inspired naturally bold wishes and ambitious dreams, and led him to look upon the impossible and unheard of as possible and attainable.  Frederick von Trenck was not vain or imperious, but he was proud and ambitious; he had a great object in view, and all his powers were consecrated to that end; in his hopeful, sunny hours, he did not doubt of success; he was ever diligent, ever watchful, ever ready to embrace an opportunity; ever expecting some giant work, which would, in its fruition, bring him riches and honor, fame and greatness.  He felt that he had strength to win a world and lay it bound at his feet; and if the king had commanded him to undertake the twelve labors of Hercules, he would not have shrunk from the ordeal.  Convinced that a glorious future awaited him, he prepared himself for it.  No hour found him idle.  When his comrades, wearied by the fatiguing service and the oft-repeated exercises and preparations for war, retired to rest, Trenck was earnestly engaged in some grave study, some scientific work, seated at his writing-table surrounded with books, maps, and drawings.