La Fayette returned to Paris in January, 1785. During this year the marquis visited the courts of many of the German princes, and was everywhere received with marked distinction. But the fawning of courtiers could not move La Fayette from his declared position as an upholder of freedom. Even old Frederick the Great was forced to acknowledge the power of the impulsive champion of liberty. La Fayette was invited by the admiring tyrant to Sans Souci, and the Prussian monarch treated him with distinguished consideration. Many were their warm discussions upon liberty and the American Revolution, the success of which made even the haughty old king tremble on his tottering throne. In one of these conversations Frederick declared that the American Republic would not last. “She will return to the good old system by and by,” said he; to which La Fayette, with earnestness, replied: “Never, Sire; never! Neither monarchy nor aristocracy can ever exist in America. Do you believe that I went to America to obtain military reputation? It was for liberty I went there. He who loves liberty can only remain quiet after having established it in his own country.” To which the old tyrant grimly and sarcastically answered: “Sir, I knew a young man, who, after having visited countries where liberty and equality reigned, conceived the idea of establishing the same system in his own country. Do you know what happened to him?” “No, Sire.” “He was hanged,” said the old monarch, with a meaning smile. When La Fayette took his leave of the Prussian warrior, Frederick presented to the marquis his miniature set in diamonds, as a token of his admiring regard. In La Fayette’s “Memoirs” he thus sketches Frederick the Great as he appeared at the time of this visit:— “I have been to Potsdam,” says the marquis, “to pay my court to the king; and though I had heard much of his appearance, I was not fully prepared to see him dressed in an old, ragged, dirty uniform, all covered with Spanish snuff, his head leaning over one shoulder, and his fingers almost dislocated with gout. But what surprised me most was the fire, and occasionally the softness, in his eyes—the handsomest eyes I have ever seen; so that his face can be as charming when he is pleased as it can be stern and threatening at the head of his army. I was in Silesia when he reviewed thirty-one battalions and seventy-five squadrons—thirty thousand men in all, seventy-five hundred of them being cavalry.