He was born on December
9, 1594, old style, as they still reckon time in Russia. Very early
he showed the kind of stuff he was made of. When he was yet almost a
baby he was told that there were snakes in the park, and showed
fight at once: "Give me a stick and I will kill them." With the
years he grew into a handsome youth who read his books, knew his
Seneca by heart, was fond of the poets and the great orators, and
mastered eight languages, living and dead. At seventeen he buckled
on the sword and put the books away, but kept Xenophon as his
friend; for he was a military historian after his own heart. He was
then Duke of Finland.
The King, his father, was a stern but observant man who, seeing his
bent, threw him with soldiers to his heart's content, glad to have
it so, for it was a warlike age. From his tenth year he let him sit
in council with him and early delegated to him the duty of answering
ambassadors from foreign countries. The lad was the only one who
dared oppose the king when he was in a temper, and often he made
peace and healed wounds struck in anger. The people worshipped the
fair young prince, and his father, when he felt the palsy of old age
and bodily infirmities creeping upon him and thought of his
unfinished tasks, would murmur as his eyes rested upon the bonny
youth: "_Ille faciet_--He will do it.
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