ead. A frank, natural directness of manner and speech is his
principal characteristic. He wears easily, almost playfully, the yoke of
court ceremonial, temporarily casting it aside when troublesome. In two
respects he differs from most of the other European rulers whom I have
seen: he looks the sovereign, and he unbends as gracefully and
unostentatiously as a man risen from the ranks of the people. There is
evidently better stuff than kings are generally made of in the Romanoff
line.

Grace and refinement, rather than beauty, distinguish the Empress,
though her eyes and hair deserve the latter epithet. She is an invalid,
and appears pale and somewhat worn; but there is no finer group of
children in Europe than those to whom she has given birth. Six sons and
one daughter are her jewels; and of these, the third son, Vladimir, is
almost ideally handsome. Her dress was at once simple and superb,--a
cloud of snowy _tulle_, with a scarf of pale-blue velvet, twisted with a
chain of the largest diamonds and tied with a knot and tassel of pearls,
resting halfway down the skirt, as if it had slipped from her waist. On
another occasion, I remember her wearing a crown of five stars, the
centres of which were single enormous rubies and the rays of diamonds,
so set on invisible wires that they burned in the air over her head. The
splendor which was a part of her _role_ was always made subordinate to
rigid taste, and herein prominently distinguished her from many of the
Russian ladies, who carried great fortunes upon their heads, necks, and
bosoms. I had several opportunities of conversing with her, generally
upon Art and Literature, and was glad to find that she had both read and
thought, as well as seen. You may tell the honored author of
"Evangeline" that he numbers her among his appreciative readers.

After their Majesties have made the circle of the diplomatic corps, the
_Polonaise_, which always opens a Court ball, commences. The Grand-Dukes
Nicholas and Michael, (brothers of the Emperor,) and the younger members
of the Imperial family, take part in it, the latter evidently impatient
for the succeeding quadrilles and waltzes. When this is finished, all
palpable, obtrusive ceremony is at an end. Dancing, conversation, cards,
strolls through the sumptuous halls, fill the hours. The Emperor wanders
freely through the crowd, saluting here and there a friend, exchanging
badinage with the wittiest ladies, (which they all seem at liber