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have been the political sovereign of the State: for the reigning Duke
was fonder of pleasure than of politics, and loved to talk a great deal
more with his grand huntsman, or the director of his opera, than with
ministers and ambassadors.

The Hereditary Prince, whom I shall call Prince Victor, was of a very
different character from his august father. He had made the Wars of the
Succession and Seven Years with great credit in the Empress's service,
was of a stern character, seldom appeared at Court, except when ceremony
called him, but lived almost alone in his wing of the palace, where he
devoted himself to the severest studies, being a great astronomer and
chemist. He shared in the rage then common throughout Europe, of hunting
for the philosopher's stone; and my uncle often regretted that he had no
smattering of chemistry, like Balsamo (who called himself Cagliostro),
St. Germain, and other individuals, who had obtained very great sums
from Duke Victor by aiding him in his search after the great secret. His
amusements were hunting and reviewing the troops; but for him, and if
his good-natured father had not had his aid, the army would have been
playing at cards all day, and so it was well that the prudent prince was
left to govern.

Duke Victor was fifty years of age, and his princess, the Princess
Olivia, was scarce three-and-twenty. They had been married seven years,
and in the first years of their union the Princess had borne him a son
and a daughter. The stern morals and manners, the dark and ungainly
appearance, of the husband, were little likely to please the brilliant
and fascinating young woman, who had been educated in the south (she
was connected with the ducal house of S---), who had passed two years
at Paris under the guardianship of Mesdames the daughters of His Most
Christian Majesty, and who was the life and soul of the Court of X---,
the gayest of the gay, the idol of her august father-in-law, and,
indeed, of the whole Court. She was not beautiful, but charming; not
witty, but charming, too, in her conversation as in her person. She was
extravagant beyond all measure; so false, that you could not trust her;
but her very weaknesses were more winning than the virtues of other
women, her selfishness more delightful than others' generosity. I never
knew a woman whose faults made her so attractive. She used to ruin
people, and yet they all loved her. My old uncle has seen her cheating
at ombre, and let