an interview in which she was wholly left to herself, and yet
succeeded perfectly in what is presumed to be the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of
diplomacy--the art of disguising her intentions. The British
ambassador, after a long period of comparative failure, had succeeded in
obtaining an audience through Potemkin--who always pretended to be
powerless, yet who could do every thing which he desired. The
appointment to meet the ambassador was made, and Potemkin prefaced his
service by the following singular sketch of his sovereign. "Do not
expect that it is in the power of any living being to prevent her from
concluding her favourite plan of armed neutrality. Content yourself with
destroying the effects--the resolution is immovable. As it was conceived
by _mistake_ and perfected by _vanity_, it is maintained by _pride_ and
_obstinacy_. You well know the hold of those passions on a _female
mind_; and if you attempt to slacken, you will only tighten the knot."

One of the imperial valets then came to lead the ambassador to the
interview; which he gives in French, and which he commenced in a strain
which we hope will never be imitated again by any cabinet of England.

"I have come to represent to your imperial majesty the _critical
situation_ in which our affairs are at present. You know our reliance on
you. We venture to _flatter_ ourselves that you will _avert the storm_,
and reassure us as to our fears of having lost your friendship." If the
expressions were not in print, we should scarcely have thought it
possible that such crouching language could have been used. The
ambassador, of course, is but the mouthpiece of his government. The
blame must fall, not on the intelligent servant, but on the feeble
masters. Who can wonder if the daring and haughty spirit of Catharine
scoffed at the remonstrances, and despised the interests of a country,
whose cabinet adopted language so unfitting the dignity and real power
of the mighty British empire? The expressions of this dialogue would
have been humiliating to the smallest of the "square-league"
sovereignties of the Continent. The answer of the empress was precisely
what she might have addressed to the envoy of Poland or the Crimea.
"Sir, you are aware of my sentiments relative to your nation; they are
equally sincere and invariable. But I have found so little return on
your part, that I feel I ought not to consider you any longer among my
friends."

To this haughty tone, what is the reply