when ambassador
to Catherine II, he once received despatches from his court, when
he happened to be dressed as an old woman; and it was with
difficulty that the courier could be made to recognize his
ambassador in that costume. M. de C. was an extremely common-place
character; he said the same things to almost every one he met in a
drawing room: he spoke to every person with a kind of cordiality in
which sentiments and ideas had no part. His manners were engaging,
and his conversation pretty well formed by the world; but to send
such a man to negotiate * with the revolutionary strength and
roughness that surrounded Bonaparte, was a most pitiable spectacle.
An aide-de-camp of Bonaparte complained of the familiarity of M. de
C.; he was displeased that one of the first noblemen of the Austrian
monarchy should squeeze his hand without ceremony. These new
debutans in politeness could not conceive that ease was in good
taste. In truth, if they had been at their ease, they would have
committed strange inconsistencies, and arrogant stiffness was much
better suited to them in the new part they wished to play. Joseph
Bonaparte, who negociated the peace of Luneville, invited M. de C.
to his charming country seat of Morfontaine, where I happened to
meet him. Joseph was extremely fond of rural occupation, and would
walk with ease and pleasure in his gardens for eight hours in
succession. M. de C. tried to follow him, more out of breath than
the Duke of Mayenne, whom Henry IV. amused himself with making walk
about, notwithstanding his corpulence. The poor man talked very much
of fishing, among the pleasures of the country, because it allowed
him to sit down; he absolutely warmed in speaking of the innocent
pleasure of catching some little fish with the line.

When he was ambassador at Petersburg, Paul I. had treated him with
the greatest indignity. He and I were playing at backgammon in the
drawing room at Morfontaine, when one of my friends came in and
informed us of the sudden death of that Sovereign. M. de C.
immediately began making the most official lamentations possible on
this event. "Although I had reason to complain of him," said he, "I
shall always acknowledge the excellent qualities of this prince,
and I cannot help regretting his loss." He thought rightly that the
death of Paul was a fortunate event for Austria, and for Europe, but
he had in his conversation, a court mourning, that was really quite
intolerable. It is t