Exceedingly tactful and devoid of prejudice, Cyril Razumowski succeeded in maintaining himself in his great position during the reign of Catherine II., to whose elevation he was supposed to have contributed in no mean degree. The pomp and splendour with which he surrounded himself, as well as his personal kindness of heart, seemed to have rendered him fully worthy of such unprecedented favours. Many traits are recorded of him proving his generosity as well as his nobleness of character. He had a steward, who for many years had managed his affairs, and who had acquired great influence over him. A poor gentleman of Little Russia, a neighbour of the marshal, was at loggerheads with the business man about some land, which, though of little or no importance to the wealthy Court dignitary, practically constituted the whole of the other’s patrimony. The steward insisted upon the surrender of the property. The gentleman was thoroughly aware of Razumowski’s inherent sense of right and justice, and, instead of trusting his all to the chances of a lawsuit--always uncertain in Russia, and notably where one’s opponent happens to be very powerful--he made up his mind to go and find the marshal at St. Petersburg, and to plead his cause with him. The steward, having got wind of the affair, is beforehand, and on his arrival in the capital stigmatises the claim of the gentleman as an utterly unfounded pretension, and extracts from his master a promise to yield neither to solicitations nor prayers, but to remain firm. A short time afterwards the poor gentleman arrives upon the scene and explains his case, and succeeds in convincing the marshal so completely of the justice of his claim as thoroughly to move him. The picture of the other’s total ruin is by no means to his taste; the promise to his steward is forgotten, and without saying a syllable he leaves the room for a small one adjoining it, and there in a few lines he draws up a document granting the contested land to his adversary. At the sight of the paper, the latter drops on his knees, where the steward, entering at the same moment by another door, finds him. ‘You see,’ said Razumowski smiling, ‘where I have brought him to.’ The scene is worthy to figure by the side of that of Sully and Henri IV. at Fontainebleau, when the king said to his friend the minister, ‘Rise, Rosny, these people might imagine that I was granting you a pardon for something.’