ility of the Council of
Nice. You may think such complaints matter for laughter, but I do not,
for I have much more agreeable motives for amusement."

The czarina was delighted to mark my surprise. I did not doubt for a
moment that she had made a special study of the whole subject. M.
Alsuwieff told me, a few days after, that she had very possibly read a
little pamphlet on the subject, the statements of which exactly coincided
with her own. He took care to add, however, that it was very possible her
highness was profoundly learned on the matter, but this was merely a
courtier's phrase.

What she said was spoken modestly and energetically, and her good humour
and pleasant smile remained unmoved throughout. She exercised a constant
self-control over herself, and herein appeared the greatness of her
character, for nothing is more difficult. Her demeanour, so different
from that of the Prussian king, shewed her to be the greater sovereign of
the two; her frank geniality always gave her the advantage, while the
short, curt manners of the king often exposed him to being made a dupe.
In an examination of the life of Frederick the Great, one cannot help
paying a deserved tribute to his courage, but at the same time one feels
that if it had not been for repeated turns of good fortune he must have
succumbed, whereas Catherine was little indebted to the favours of the
blind deity. She succeeded in enterprises which, before her time, would
have been pronounced impossibilities, and it seemed her aim to make men
look upon her achievements as of small account.

I read in one of our modern journals, those monuments of editorial
self-conceit, that Catherine the Great died happily as she had lived.
Everybody knows that she died suddenly on her close stool. By calling
such a death happy, the journalist hints that it is the death he himself
would wish for. Everyone to his taste, and we can only hope that the
editor may obtain his wish; but who told this silly fellow that Catherine
desired such a death? If he regards such a wish as natural to a person of
her profound genius I would ask who told him that men of genius consider
a sudden death to be a happy one? Is it because that is his opinion, and
are we to conclude that he is therefore person of genius? To come to the
truth we should have to interrogate the late empress, and ask her some
such question as:

"Are you well pleased to have died suddenly?"

She would probably reply:

"Wh