What was the usual subject of the young men's conversation? Their
studies? Never! Once in a way, perhaps, they would talk of certificates.
No, their conversation was of things obscene; of appointments with
women; of billiards and drink; of certain diseases which they had heard
discussed by their elder brothers. They lounged about in the afternoon
and "held the reviews," and the best informed of them knew the name of
the officer and could tell the others where his mistress lived.

Once two members of the "Knights' Vigil of Light," had dined in the
company of two women on the terrace of a high-class restaurant in the
Zoological Gardens. For this offence they were expelled from school.
They were punished for their naivete, not because their conduct was
considered vicious, for a year after they passed their examinations
and went to the University, gaining in this way a whole year; and when
they had completed their studies at Upsala, they were attached to the
Embassy in one of the capitals of Europe, to represent the United
Kingdoms of Sweden and Norway.

In these surroundings Theodore spent the best part of his youth. He
had seen through the fraud, but was compelled to acquiesce! Again and
again he asked himself the question: What can I do? There was no answer.
And so he became an accessory and learned to hold his tongue.

His confirmation appeared to him to be very much on a level with his
school experience. A young minister, an ardent pietist, was to teach
him in four months Luther's Catechism, regardless of the fact that he was
well versed in theology, exegesis and dogmatics, besides having read the
New Testament in Greek. Nevertheless the strict pietism, which demanded
absolute truth in thought and action, could not fail to make a great
impression on him.