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with gifts the most munificent, as some consolation for the mortification which they must have experienced, but who, most probably, proved a happier fate than the sister selected as a bride for the insensible, capricious and violent Constantine.

but the despotic control she exercised over them | sisters, she chose the youngest, and loaded the others when they had arrived at manhood. We may play with the whelp, though we must chain the lion, thought the jealous sovereign, as she looked on her future successors, and possible rivals of her power. She knew from her own experience there were some spirits that could not wait for a natural opening to succession; and is it wonderful, that, when recollecting her own ascent to the throne, that she should sometimes tremble at the development of the moral and physical faculties of her children, and fear lest her example might prove more impressive than her precepts? Her own and only son was little more than a state prisoner. During more than twenty years after he became a father and enjoyed all the privileges of manhood, was he excluded from the throne by her who had unrighteously seized and still usurped the sovereignty. Too dearly had she paid for its possession, not to aim at its security by every available precaution.

Nevertheless, she was a great, a wise and good sovereign-a fond, a tender, yet a vindictive and implacable woman: resistance to her will was a crime--submission, a necessity. Even the self-willed and violent Constantine found it so, in every circumstance connected with her ambitious and political views, though in merely personal and private concerns or pleasures, he was left to the unbounded indulgence of his inclinations and caprices.

It being determined he should marry, a partner was chosen, without any reference to his wishes: it was a state affair, and to be decided solely by political considerations. After casting her eyes over the different courts of Germany, Catherine determined on inviting to her court the three princesses of Saxe-Cobourg, as on a former occasion those of Hesse Darmstadt had been, when she selected a wife for her son.

Strange that the pride of the German princes, often so ridiculously displayed in puerilities and exactions of form and etiquette in their own petty courts, did not prevent their thus sending their daughters to St. Petersburgh, to be subjected to the degrading examination of Catherine and the grand dukes-to be chosen or rejected at their will and pleasure. Eleven princesses of Germany at different times were thus sent, often accompanied by their mothers, for her to choose from them wives for her son and grandsons.

"Young and affecting victims to policy and ambition, how often do you bedew in secret with your tears the gilded apartments in which you dwell!" exclaimed one, long a resident in the court of Catherine.

"How often are your thoughts cast with regret on the loved abode where you spent your infant years; your lot unquestionably merits compassion, instead of the envy it excites!"

That of the selected bride of Constantine at least, was of this number, however her sad destiny might be masked under the splendor of royalty.

The arrival of the princess of Saxe-Cobourg and her three daughters, was followed by a succession of brilliant fêtes; they were loaded with presents, and in every possible way distinguished by the favor of the empress; thus perhaps beguiling even a mother's heart of that sense of humiliation, which her situation was so well calculated to excite.

Could splendor have conferred happiness, no young couple in the world would have been more happy, since no court ever exhibited more magnificence, or such a brilliant and variegated spectacle as that of Russia at this period. Several wars, just terminated, had been crowned with triumph and conquest. Victorious generals, envoys and ambassadors, from every European and many Asiatic nations, and a crowd of admiring noblemen from all countries, thronged the court of the proud autocratrix of the north, with whom, to be allied, was the ultimatum of human ambition, and could not therefore fail of dazzling the youthful bride, though it is much to be doubted whether it conferred felicity.

The nuptials were celebrated at St. Petersburgh with all possible pomp and splendor. These were among the last resplendent days that Catherine enjoyed. She soon after removed with her court to Tzarsko-sclo, her favorite summer residence.

This magnificent palace of the Czars was grand from its magnitude, and dazzling from its profusion of gilded ornaments. The splendor and costliness of the furniture were exceeded only by the exquisite taste of its forms and materials. Grand marble staircases led to the state apartments and dwelling-rooms: the latter opened on spacious gardens, laid out in the English taste, where nature and art lavished their choicest treasures to embellish and enhance each other, and in their combination to form a scene of enchantment.

The gardens were raised upon arches, beneath which furnaces kept up a genial heat and a perpetual verdure, where even in these frozen regions, amid the rigors of winter, the peach and anana, the hyacinth and the rose, might be gathered. A net-work of fine brass wire, imperceptible to the sight, covered this lovely spot, and confined the birds of every country and every plumage, that built among the branches of the trees-sported on the grass and gravel-walks, fed from the hands of Catherine, and delighted her with their songs. The residence of no European sovereign equalled in grandeur and beauty this favorite abode of the Czars.

In the midst of the most gorgeous magnificencein a scene enriched with monuments of her conquests and power-surrounded by every object accessory to pleasure, that the most refined voluptuousness could desire, or the most luxurious fancy could invent-amidst creations of her fertile mind and capricious taste, Catherine had here devoted a little pavillion of the most simple architecture, to solitary retirement and calm reflection, in which, surrounded by the beautiful scenery of nature, she sometimes forgot her immense sphere of action, to indulge in the quiet enjoyments of meditation.*

the Grand Dukes, greatly improved and embellished the grounds *M. Sambursky, long a resident in England and chaplain to in the vicinity of this palace, and laid out gardens for the princes in the English taste. Those of Alexander were founded on a very ingenious thought. Catherine had written a tale for her The little grandchildren, entitled the "Tzarovich Chlore," Chlore undertakes a journey to the top of a mountain, where grows a rose without a thorn, and gathers it after a thousand After ascertaining the different dispositions of the dangers and a thousand toils. M. Sambursky has exhibited all

VOL. III.-46

equanimity and mildness of Alexius well fitted him to be the companion of the hot-headed and self-willed prince. He was the confidant, though not the participator of all his pleasures; in his griefs he took a full share. The first he often restrained—of the latter, soothed the excess.

Contiguous to the palace was a building, or suite of together in habits of confidence and affection, as the rooms, called the Hermitage, devoted to recreation, social pleasures and intimate delights. Here she received those whom she wished to distinguish with peculiar favor; those whom she emphatically called friends, free from the burthensome restraints of etiquette and ceremony. It was a retreat consecrated to pleasure, but not entirely to the pleasures of sense. These were To this friend would Constantine often complain of indulged to a degree of licentiousness, which refined his matrimonial infelicity and private discontents; then taste, equally with virtue, condemns; but they were by way of contrast, would draw in glowing colors the not the exclusive enjoyments of the voluptuous Cathe-picture of such a woman as he could love. His impasrine and her select companions: for here were likewise sioned nature was kindled by his own descriptions, collected memorials of great and good men, books, mu- until in a kind of frenzy he would vow to break his sic, sculpture and painting, displaying at once the refine-chains, and realize the bliss he imagined. ments of taste and the treasures of art, in the midst of the charms of cultivated nature. Her court, the most brilliant in Europe, was the resort of male and female beauty and talents. The graces went hand in hand with genius, and were the presiding deities of her society. They imparted a softening influence to the more grand, but harsher pursuits of ambition and glory. Grey-headed warriors and statesmen, laying aside the austerity and ruggedness of their manners, here gaily mingled in the circle of youth and beauty, with an ease and frankness seldom found within a court circle. Catherine was the Armida of this enchanting region. But was this the abode of happiness? No. "Virtue alone is happiness below;" and amidst this pomp and splendor, Catherine, in the days of her glory, felt, like Solo-gular habits of his friend. "Some," said he, "are so mon, the vanity and the unsatisfactory nature of sensual and ambitious pursuits.

Constantine, the hero of our tale, was one of the most dissatisfied of the inmates of this gorgeous abode. His violent and untamed spirit was restless and disgusted in the confinement of a palace, for which his harsh manners and unimproved mind equally disqualified him. His youthful bride had no charms for him; an angel would have been detestable, if imposed by authority. He was miserable in this alliance. To escape from its irksome duties, he sought vicious pleasures-plunged into fatal excesses, of which he might have been guiltless had he been happy. So at least believed his friend and confidant Count Alexius, son of the Prince Beloselsky, envoy at the court of Turin-a man of taste and merit, who had expended a fortune in patronizing the arts, and much of his time in cultivating them himself. His son was imbued with his taste and knowledge, and was a distinguished favorite at court. He was an officer in the cavalieré, or body guards of the empress; had from his earliest childhood been brought up with the grand dukes, and attached himself particularly to Constantine, notwithstanding the dissimilarity of their characters. Perhaps this very difference gave birth to this attachment; feeble health, tender spirits, and a most gentle disposition, might have attracted him to the high-spirited and daring prince, as instinctively as the vine is led to the oak for its support; and as naturally did Constantine love a being to whom, as he never met with opposition, he never showed unkindness or violence. Thus they grew

the scenes and adventures of this tale in this garden. In the centre is a mountain, on the summit of which stands the temple of the thornless rose-and the path that leads to it, presents all the instructive allegories illustrated in the tale. Was Madame Genlis, or M. Sambursky, the inventor of an allegoric garden?

At such moments, when the ardor of his disposition thus blazed forth, how fervently did his young friend wish that a being such as Constantine described, had the keeping of his happiness-" for," thought he, "it would be equally the keeping of his virtue. Yes, under the dominion of love, he might become kind and good, since it is only through his affections he can be governed-only by the dominance of this master passion, his other passions can be tamed." Alexius, who had been trained in the school of French philosophy, had been taught to look upon man as a creature of circumstance, whose virtues or vices were the mere accidents of his condition or his organization, and therefore pitied more than he blamed the ungoverned passions and irre

cold, so imperturbable, that they can no more conceive of the excitement and turbulence produced by the passions, than a boatman who has passed his life in guiding his bark on the smooth surface of a shallow stream, can conceive of the skill necessary to govern the same boat, if tossed on the waves of the tumultuous ocean." But this indulgent temper did not make him the less lament, or endeavor to correct the excesses of his erring friend. "Blame my destiny, and not me," would the prince often impatiently reply to the remonstrances of his young mentor; "those who regard virtue as the simplest and easiest thing in the world, know little about it, or are of an organization the reverse of mine. Yes, Alexius, it is an easy thing for those who do not feel the promptings of revenge-the stings of jealousythe irritations of anger-the envyings, and hatreds, and strivings of ambition ;—I tell you, Alexius, for them it is an easy thing to be gentle, just and magnanimous."

"True,” replied he, “but it is neither so great or so good as to conquer nature, to overcome difficulties, to resist temptations. This is virtue, and not the mere possession of amiable and generous dispositions. Who, then, could attain to higher excellence than you, my prince-whilst I, in this, as in all other things, should remain your inferior?"

"My tutor thought differently," replied Constantine; "M. le Harpe so constantly extolled you as my superior, in character as well as genius, that do you know, Alexius, I sometimes hated you?"

“Ah, sir, that was only to rouse your pride; his praise of me was only meant as a stimulus for you. I have heard of some tutors of royal pupils, who inflicted cruel punishments on their humble companions with the same intent. But this excellent man was too just for that."

"Had he done so, I should have loved you all the

to have possessed the purest virtues, as she certainly did possess the charms of her sex.

better, Alexius; and philosopher as M. le Harpe was, he should have known human nature better, than to have applied a remedy which produced a worse disease than the one he wished to cure-for is not malevolence worse than ignorance? Had you, like young Soltikoff, plumed yourself on that praise, I should always have hated you, as I do that arrogant puppy; but your gen-mired in thee, I would feign have erected a monument tleness, Alexius, soothed my wounded pride."

"And you never hate me now?" inquired the young man, his eyes glistening with tears of sensibility.

"Hate you!" exclaimed Constantine; "you know that is impossible!”

"O Catherine! dazzled by thy greatness, of which I have had a near view-charmed with thy beneficence, which rendered so many individuals happy-seduced by the thousand amiable qualities that have been ad

to thy glory;-but torrents of blood flow in upon me, and inundate my design; the chains of thirty millions of slaves ring in my ears, and deafen me to the sounds of thy praise; the crimes which have reigned in thy name, call forth my indignation. I throw away

Alexius grasped the hand the prince had involunta- my pen, and exclaim-'Let there be henceforth no rily extended to him.

"Not even when I speak unwelcome truths?"

glory without virtue; let injustice and depravity be transmitted with no other laurels to posterity than the

"I can bear anything from you, Alexius—for you snakes of Nemesis!'" love me."

"Let me then remind you of an assertion we met with in one of the letters of the Great Frederick. 'There is,' said he, 'in every man's bosom a wild beast, which, if not chained, will spread ruin and desolation round.' A many-headed monster is this same wild beast; and will not you, my prince, like another Hercules, destroy this Hydra?"

"You grow poetical, my good Alexius; but believe me, the days of demi-gods, if not of monsters, has gone by."

Alexius sighed-but did not persist, on this as on other occasions. Feeling he could venture no farther, he turned the conversation on more agrecable subjects.

CHAPTER II.

Imperial Catherine! In whose mighty mind
The Sage, the Hero, Statesman are combined,
With equal ease the pen and sceptre wields,
Or points to conquest on embattled fields;
While woman's kindness and attractive grace
Glows in thy heart, or brightens in thy face.
Though niggard fortune had thy claims disowned,
In every heart would'st thou have been enthroned.-Segur.

Time rolled on, leaving Constantine a prey to secret discontents and ungoverned passions and wild irregularities, but bringing to Catherine, the arbitress of his destiny, increasing power and glory.

But can the most dazzling glory, or unlimited power, prolong for one moment the allotted span of life? The records of his history answer in the negative, but never so emphatically as in the fate of this mighty sovereign. A sudden-an instantaneous stroke-paralized every faculty of mind and body. She died and made no sign! "She is dead," writes one, who described the awful catastrophe. "The dart of death was aimed with the rapidity of lightning. In the morning, she was an empress; at night, dust-nothing bu dust. Her imperious soul escaped from its mortal coil, without a single attendant to receive its last sigh, or to aid its last struggle.

How great might she not have been, had her heart been as well governed as her mind; but, imbued from her youth with the poisonous maxims and habits by which courts are infected-enveloped on her throne in a cloud of incense, through which it was hardly possible to discern truth, she was dazzled and corrupted by prosperity. She needed, perhaps, only to be unfortunate

Such is the verdict of one who basked in the sunshine of her favor, and during ten years lived in her familiar society.

Paul, who had been so long and so unjustly excluded from his rights, hastened from the gloomy solitude of Gatschina, to ascend the throne, and to take possession of the magnificent palace of the Czars.

If the corrupting influence of prosperity destroyed the virtues of Catherine, Mary the wife of Paul, may have had reason to be thankful for the misfortunes which hitherto had marked her path through life. Banished by the jealousy of the usurping empress, from the gaieties, luxuries, and flatteries of her splendid court, Mary had, in the seclusion to which she was condemned, found not only occupation but recreation, in books, painting, music, and other intellectual and refined pursuits. Her mind had been enlarged, her principles fortified, her tenderest sympathies for the unfortunate awakened by her own melancholy experience, which softened instead of souring her naturally mild and amiable disposition. She rejoiced far less at the restoration of her rights to sovereignty, than to her rights of maternity, which had been as exclusively and forcibly usurped by Catherine.

The brilliant pleasure of the new scenes into which she was introduced, for her had few attractions. They could not seduce her from the dearer pleasure a mother's heart enjoyed in a re-union with her children. Seduously did she endeavor to repair the evils their separation from her had occasioned, and she devoted her time, talents and influence to their improvement and happiness. It was with grief she discovered, in Constantine, a waywardness and obstinacy, which she feared would defeat all her efforts for his benefit. Her pride and affection were equally gratified by the exalted character, and mild and generous disposition of Alexander. In this noble youth was realized the ideal character that Fenelon has so charmingly depicted in Telemachus; and in his young and lovely wife, Mary had a daughter she could take to her heart in full confidence and affection. The characters of her other children were not yet formed, but gave promise of fulfilling all her desires.

Withdrawing as much as possible from the vain pageantry of a court, her time was employed in a succession of duties and occupations suitable to her sex and her dignity; thus avoiding the dark and turbulent passions which soon agitated the reign of the capricious and tyrannic Paul. But of this strange and disastrous

the uncle

period we will not speak, but pass to the more enlight- | Alexius to the court of the Elector of ened, mild and glorious reign of Alexander, when and guardian of the Princess Amelia, who was then tranquillity, confidence and justice were restored to the residing with him. imperial court; when the dominion of virtue commenced, and under the influence of one of the best of women; for such was the empress mother, who, though not a partner of his sovereignty, by her wisdom, beneficence and experience, swayed the opinions and measures of the youthful emperor.

Freed from the yoke of despotic authority under which he had long chafed, even Constantine felt and owned the mild and gentle influence of his mother.

CHAPTER III.

Tell how each beauty of her mind and face
Was brighten'd by some sweet peculiar grace;
How eloquent in every look

Through her expressive eyes, her soul distinctly spoke.

Lyttleton.

The Princess Amelia was now an orphan. A few months only had elapsed since her brilliant and beautiLong had she deplored his unbridled excesses, and ful mother had been suddenly snatched from life, in the that want of confiding affection and maternal influence midst of a festival celebrated in honor of her husband's which her long separation from him had occasioned. birthday. The lovely but lifeless body, crowned with By degrees she had won on his confidence and respect; flowers sparkling with jewels, was carried from the fesand now that her authority was no longer thwarted by tal hall. The sounds of revelry were changed to shrieks the gloomy and capricious tyranny of her husband, she of dismay and groans of sorrow. Saloons, thronged gradually obtained a greater influence over her perverse with light dancers and gay maskers, became suddenly and wayward son. The impediments to the flow of empty, silent, sad, and echoed only to the footsteps of affection being removed, it returned to its natural chan- the attendants as they glided mournfully from one apartnel. In the fullness of awakened confidence, Constantinement to the other. So uncertain is life-so uncalcuconfessed to this indulgent mother all his errors, ascri-lated and sudden its vicissitudes. The fatal stroke bing them however to the circumstances in which he which deprived the Prince of C of a beloved had been placed-especially to his hated marriage. wife, was more than his already enfeebled frame could Willingly did his mother adopt this idea, and endeavor bear. Grief for the political changes his country had to believe that the vices she deplored were rather the been subjected to-changes, which had deprived him of offspring of circumstances than of his natural dispo-independent and sovereign power-had long been preysition. She knew that with the people he was more ing on his mind and undermining his health, and left popular than Alexander, whose reserve had been mis-him without strength to sustain this last dreadful shock. taken for severity and pride, while the bold, frank and even boisterous manners of Constantine, had made him a favorite with those who look only on the surface. She believed he possessed the germs of a good heart and sound understanding, which, from not being properly cultivated, had never been expanded, but which she fondly hoped were not utterly destroyed.

Hoping to effect a reformation she so earnestly desired, she took into consideration the scheme of separation from his wife, which he had warmly urged, and promised to obtain, if possible, the emperor's sanction to a divorce, and his permission for Constantine to

select for himself another wife.

He died, and left his daughter sole heiress to his vast patrimonial estates, but divested of those titles and prerogatives to which she had been born, and which in his estimation were preferable to the wealth he retained. Scarcely had the tears caused by a mother's death been dried from the cheeks of the young Amelia, and the smiles natural to her age stolen back to her sweet coun

tenance, than her sorrows were revived by the loss of her surviving parent.

The care of the young Princess devolved on her maternal uncle, the Elector of —, who supplied, as On arriving at the mansion of her kinsman, she was far as kindness could supply, the loss she had sustained. introduced to his niece the Countess P-zinsky. She After due reflection and consultation, the emperor was the daughter of his only beloved sister, who havacceded to the joint petition of his mother and brother.ing married a Polish nobleman, was now suffering along By an imperial ukase, Constantine was divorced from the unfortunate Foedrovina, and restored, as he said, to freedom. Often had he eagerly listened to the accounts of travellers, who had visited the German courts. There

were several princesses whose beauty he had heard them extol; but there was one, beyond all the rest, who had seized upon his fancy.

with him the consequences of his vain but patriotic efforts to preserve the freedom of his nation-confiscation and banishment. Forced to leave their unhappy country, with inadequate means of support in that of their

exile, these impoverished and unfortunate fugitives left their daughter to the protecting care of the good Elector. She was several years older than Amelia; but this difReport, however, might be erroneous; tastes cer-ference of age was not so great as to destroy the charm tainly did differ, and before he made any definitive of companionship, while it insured to her the prudence advances, he was determined to ascertain the truth of the charming descriptions given him of the Princess of C. "You, Alexius," said he, "know all I desire in the wife I am about to choose. You know what will please, what will satisfy my taste; what, in fine, will make me happy. Go, therefore-examine, determine for me; my fate is in your hands."

and experience of an elder sister. Sophia P―zinsky, though she could not be compared to Amelia in point of personal charms, was far her superior in strength and cultivation of mind, or the indescribable attraction of refined and polished manners, to be acquired only in the best society. The world, which had formed her manhad not chilled her naturally warm and kindly The emperor and his mother sanctioned this embassy, affections. Her countenance was full of intelligence, which, however, was to be conducted with such secrecy | benevolence, and sensibility, blended with a dignity as to give no suspicion of the purport of the visit of derived from high intellect, united to high birth.

ners,

Such was the future companion and friend of the | ble Elector, an old and esteemed friend of his fayoung and lovely orphan, to whose peculiar and ther's.

directing care she was consigned by her uncle. Under The young envoy had all the requisites for the misthe mild governance of the Countess Sophia, Amelia soon acquired those graces of mind and manner, which impart to beauty its most winning charm. But neither exhortations, daily renewed, nor the strict etiquette of a German court, could shackle the hitherto unrestrained freedom of youthful spirits, that often amounted to levity, nor that frankness of disposition derived from nature and cultured by indulgence.

sion with which he was charged. To quick perceptions, a well improved mind, a taste formed and refined by his early residence in Italy, he united manners graceful and conciliatory. His disposition by nature was ardent, unguarded, and communicative; but, by the discipline of a courtier's life, had acquired caution, coolness, and reserve, which served, like embankments that check a rapid torrent, to restrain his natural impetuosity.

During the lifetime of her parents, her wishes had been their laws-her every action sprung from im- The polished courtier, the gallant and distinguished pulse-her every word was the thought or feeling of officer, the favorite of a prince, could no where be an the moment. What had Amelia to conceal from beings unwelcome visitor; but in the dull and formal court of who lived but to gratify each desire that arose in her the Elector, he was received as a herald of good artless bosom; what was there to depress the buoy-tidings-as the forerunner of amusements and festivalsancy of spirits basking in the sunshine of fortune, and as such always followed the arrival of distinguished in the warmth of affection?

visitors, and dissipated the tedium and ennui of the dull routine of courtly ceremonies; for the Elector being one of the mediatized princes, who, though deprived of the reality, could not relinquish the semblance of princely state, exacted a more rigid observance of forms and ceremonies, than when fully entitled to them.

After the lapse of some days, passed in a succession of dull and uninteresting entertainments, Count Alexius grew impatient to become better acquainted with the Princess Amelia. As yet he had only seen her once or twice, as she made her appearance for a short time in the court-circle, when she appeared more like a statue than an animated being, introduced rather as an ornament to, than actor in the scene. The still untamed spirits of Amelia made her averse to submit to the thraldom of these formal exhibitions, where her every look and word was subjected to the most rigid scrutiny, and every impulse of her natural disposition repressed. Greatly did she prefer the freedom of the private apart

Artless, in opposition to artificial, is an epithet commonly applied to the manners of the lowly, or peasant maiden. We forget that the heavy yoke of poverty and labor represses the spontaneous impulses of nature, much more than the freedom and indulgence of rank and wealth. Yet so it is; and artless and natural characters are oftener found among the richer than among the poorer classes of society. This fact was exemplified in the young Princess, who was more a child of nature than any mountain girl in the domains of her father. Amelia was like an unpruned vine, reared in a rich soil, and left to its own native luxuriance, wantoning amid embowering shades, and twining its flexile branches around flower or tree, without direction and without restraint; and more lovely was she in this guileless simplicity, than she could have been, though formed by the finest fashioning of art. But the days of childhood were passed; the woman was to be introduced into society; the heiress into a venal and in-ments, where she passed her time with her beloved friend triguing court prudence and propriety dictated the necessity of more restraint and reserve. This innocent and inexperienced being must be taught to check her first impulses to conceal her thoughts-to draw a veil, if not a mask, over her real feelings-to weigh every word, to guard every look, to regulate every action, by the rules of decorum and established forms. Such was the task assumed by the Countess Sophia; one she soon discovered to be impracticable. Her advice was not rejected, but forgotten; her authority was not disclaimed, but sportively evaded; and all that remained for her to do, was to guard, where she could not guide; and, with a sisterly affection, to shield her lovely charge from the consequences of her frankness, artlessness, and volatility. To do this effectually, she had to seclude her from frequent intercourse with the brilliant but dangerous society of the courtiers.

Sophia, in acquiring the accomplishments and pursuing the studies suited to her condition, or in the society of select companions, in the amusements befitting her age, unfettered by the tyrannic forms of the court circle.

As yet, the young Amelia, secluded as she was from general notice or admiration, had provoked neither envy nor jealousy, so that from every one, even the youngest lady in the society, Count Alexius had heard nothing but her praises. Her gaiety, good humor and frankness were vaunted of by every one, and her grace and beauty extolled, by the gentlemen, beyond that of any young person in Germany. To the rare beauty of her form, features and complexion, the Count assented, but acknowledged that he discovered nothing very attractive in her manners. "Nor will you," replied a young courtier, "until you see her, as I have seen her, in the freedom of the domestic circle--in the unrestrained gaiety of private amusements; there, I assure you, she is irresistible."

At the time when reports of Amelia's beauty reached the ears of Constantine, she had attained her fifteenth year; but from motives already assigned, continued to live To obtain this petite entrée, now became the first obin almost domestic privacy, solely occupied with the ject of Count Alexius; but he found, in his character various objects connected with her education, very sel- as a mere visitor, this was absolutely unattainable. dom participating in the amusements of the court, and Yet, the slightest intimation of his real views, would, rarely seen by visitors or strangers. Such was her by awakening the ambitious desires of the Elector, situation when Count Alexius Beloselsky was sent on place his ward under an influence which might in some his secret mission. He went in the character of a tra- way conceal the real character and inclinations of the veller, and stopped on pretext of a visit to the venera-Princess. The aim of the Count was to study her na

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