‘The cause is this. Tolstoy, emboldened by the emperor’s indulgent manner towards him, thought fit now and again to adopt a tone of remonstrance which few sovereigns would have tolerated. He opposed him in almost everything. Alexander often laughed at his fretful remarks; at rare intervals he got angry, and retaliated in his own way. When both happened to be travelling in an open sledge and Tolstoy’s cavilling put the czar out of patience, he simply gave him a push which sent him sprawling in the snow, and left him to run for a few minutes after the light conveyance. When he considered that the punishment had lasted long enough, he pulled up his horses, and the marshal, grumbling all the while, resumed his seat by the side of his master, and the matter was at an end. Convinced that things would go on for ever in that way, Tolstoy raised an opposition to Alexander’s appearance at the Congress. According to him, the emperor’s rôle there would not be consistent with his dignity. Weary at last, the emperor this time took the matter seriously and parted with his grand-marshal, who, it is said, will not be comforted in his disgrace. The moral of all this is: “Put not your trust in the friendship of princes.”’ In fact, a little while afterwards, the Comte Tolstoy, unable to survive the loss of his sovereign’s favour, died at Dresden, whither he had retired. All at once a great silence fell upon the room. A young French actress, Mme. L----, a pupil of Talma, and a protégée of the Princesse Bagration, was going to recite. She had only recently arrived from Paris. Though French tragic poetry stands essentially in need of the illusion of the stage and the advantage of costume, that kind of entertainment was not indulged in so lavishly as it is to-day; hence, the handsome actress commanded great attention. She recited with much feeling some strophes from _Zaïre_, and did great credit to her tutor in the beautiful scene of the ‘_Songe d’Athalie_.’ She was cordially applauded and complimented, and never had a _débutante_ such an audience to judge her. After this, the guests crowded round a table set out with rich and elegant objects. There was to be a lottery, a kind of elegant diversion revived from the Court of Louis XIV., whose love for Mlle. de la Vallière had first suggested it to him. Then, as now, it was a favourite recreation with women. Each sovereign contributed to these lotteries one or more presents, which, falling to the lot of the lucky ones, afforded these an opportunity of presenting them to the ladies of their thought. That kind of amusement was frequently repeated during the Congress. The most remarkable lotteries were those drawn at the Princesse Marie Esterhazy’s and at Mme. Bruce’s, _née_ Moushkin-Poushkine. The mania for them spread from the drawing-rooms to less distinguished places, and subsequently became the cause of an adventure which aroused much excitement.