Leibniz laughed maliciously. "When the Electress engaged me to work at Hanover, one of my duties was to attempt to wield together the Catholic and Protestant faiths. But when the law of succession was passed in England, there was a clause which said that only a member of the Reformed Faith could wear the crown of England. The Electress ceased then to be interested in this wielding of the faiths. She was a Protestant and she decided to remain one."

"She is not woman of strong faith."

"Her faith is in the Emglish crown. She believes it to be the most prized diadem in the world and England the home of all that is desirable. Religion to her is something to be of use to rulers. She maintains that only rulers unworthy of the name allow it to rule them. Every day she grows nearer to the English throne her Protestantism grows stronger."

"You find this admirable?"

"I find it ... wise."

"Isn't that a cynical view of religion?"

"It is not a matter of cynicism. You have listened to—and indeed partaken in—our discourses. We are groping in the dark. What is faith? The very word suggests that there is reason for uncertainty. Whom do you, a young woman of good sense, admire most, the man who convinces himself he believes blindly and shuts his eyes to reason, or the one who says I am not sure but eager to find out, therefore I shall listen to every argument?"

"Naturally I think it wiser to have an open mind."

"Like that of the Electress Sophia. She has an open mind. In the meantime if she has a good chance of attaining the throne of England as a Protestant and no chance at all as a Catholic, wisdom decrees that she shall be a Protestant and a Protestant she is."

"Of course it is wise but..."

"You are too emotional, my dear young lady. That is your youth. When the tempest is blowing you must trim your sails accordingly. Always remember that. Is it wise to be wrecked for a principle? So much depends on what is involved? In life one rarely comes to a clear solution. Perhaps there is none. That is what makes our discussions here of such interest and such value."

"But you yourself, I heard declined the custodianship of the Vatican Library for a principle."

"You are wrong."

"But I heard that the Pope himself offered you this appointment and you refused because to have accepted it would have entailed becoming a Catholic."

"That is true in part. I had no intention of becoming an adherent to any one form of religion. What if I had? My free-

dom would have been restricted, and all avenues except one closed to me. I should have accepted this and that, because it was the law laid down by the Pope."

"But is that not declining for a principle?"

"In truth no. At the heart of my refusal was the knowledge that I could lead a fuller life at courts such as this and that of Hanover. I could become richer more famous out in the world."

"Then you are ambitious."

"I shall not know what manner of man I am until I come to the end of my life."

Sophia Charlotte joined them.

"I see as usual that you are giving Caroline something to think about," she said with a smile.

The Electress Sophia visited Liitzenburg accompanied by her grandson Frederick William.

There was great preparation for their arrival for not only was Sophia Charlotte eager to have her son home again but she was delighted at the prospect of having her mother to stay with her.

Caroline was inclined to be a little jealous and this Sophia Charlotte recognized at once.

"My darling," she said, "you will love my mother and she will love you. Instead of the two of us now there will be three. We shall be a trinity."

Caroline was unsure; from all she had heard of the Electress Sophia she visualized a formidable woman.

She was agreeably surprised for although the old Electress was indeed formidable she showed nothing but pleasure in meeting Caroline.

"My daughter tells me such news of you," she said on their first meeting, "that I am impatient to meet you. Why, you have a charming face, and I am grateful to you for making my dear daughter so happy."

It was a good beginning for it was apparent to Caroline that Sophia was a woman who would say what was in her mind and it appeared that because her daughter had explained how

much Caroline meant to her, the Electress was prepared to accept her too.

Her nervousness evaporated and she found herself being as natural as she was in the presence of Sophia Charlotte and with the approving eyes of the latter upon her she proceeded to find a way into the good graces of the mother.

The entertainments at Liitzenburg delighted the old Electress and she was invariably to the fore in the discussions that went on. She was delighted to meet her old friend Gottfried Leibniz and even more pleased to see him so happily settled at her daughter's Court.

She liked, too, to wander in the gardens with Caroline and sound her to discover, Caroline was sure, whether she lived up to the reports her daughter had sent her. Caroline found herself playing the part of earnest young philosopher, seeking the truth, playing it in the manner she thought would best appeal to the old woman.

Am I being a little false? she asked herself. Were the Leibniz doctrines teaching her never to be herself, always to stand outside a scene, metaphorically, and look in on herself playing a part? Was it better to forget to watch oneself, to be natural, to say tihe first thing which came into one's mind? One would be more honest if one did. But it was so easy to do or say what was unwise, perhaps to change the whole pattern of one's life by a word or a small action.

Sometimes it seemed to her that there was no definite right or wrong way of living. Sometimes she allowed herself to believe that life would go on forever as it was now: Herself the companion, handmaiden, devoted daughter of the one she loved and always would she believed beyond all others. But common sense told her this could not be. Sophia Charlotte herself would not wish it. She would want to see her married, a mother, making a home of her own. There were only two ways in which she could ensure a life with Sophia Charlotte until death parted them. One was to remain unmarried; the other was to marry Sophia Charlotte's son.

The second prospect made her shiver.

Frederick William had returned from Hanover no better than he had gone away. He still strutted about the Court arro-

gant as ever and none of the attendants and servants dared thwart him or he would take his revenge; he would warn them that one day he would be their master and he would not forget.

Thinking of marriage with him made Caroline's thoughts turn to those far off days in Saxony.

Never! she told herself. I would rather remain unmarried. That is the answer. I will never marry. I will stay here with dearest Sophia Charlotte until the end of my days.

Frederick William had certainly not learned better manners at Hanover. It was hardly to be expected that he would. He had taken a violent dislike to his cousin George Augustus and waylaid Caroline in the gardens to tell her about it.

"You've grown taller since I've been away, Madam Caroline," he said.

"I daresay you have too, but I don't notice."

The angry lights leaped into his eyes, and she was startled to see how violent he could quickly become.

"Then notice now I " he demanded.

"It is of no interest to me."

"I command that you do."

"Are you in a position to command me?"