of his little daughter Elizabeth with Louis XV., the infant King of France.  Neither suit was successful, but it is interesting to learn how different was the impression he produced from the one twelve years before.  Saint-Simon writes of him:  “His manner was at once the most majestic, the proudest, the most sustained, and at the same time the least embarrassing.”  That he was still eccentric may be judged from his call upon Mme. de Maintenon.  She was ill in bed, and could not receive him; but he was not to be baffled.  He drew aside the bed-curtains and stared at her fixedly, while she in speechless indignation glared at him.  So, without one word, these two historic persons met—­and parted!  He probably felt curious to see what sort of a woman had enthralled and controlled the policy of Louis XIV.  Peter did not intend to subject his wife to the criticism of the witty Frenchwomen, so prudently left her at home.

Charles XII. died in 1718, and in 1721 there was at last peace with Sweden.  But the saddest war of all, and one which was never to cease, was that in Peter’s own household.  His son Alexis, possibly embittered by his mother’s fate, and certainly by her influence, grew up into a sullen, morose, and perverse youth.  In vain did his father strive to fit him for his great destiny.  By no person in the empire—­unless, perhaps, his mother—­were Peter’s reforms more detested than by the son and heir to whom he expected to intrust them.  He was in close communication with his mother Eudoxia, who in her monastery, holding court like a Tsaritsa, was surrounded by intriguing and disaffected nobles—­all praying for the death of Peter.  Every method for reaching the head or heart of this incorrigible son utterly failed.  During Peter’s absence abroad in 1717, Alexis disappeared.  Tolstoi, the Tsar’s emissary, after a long search tracked him to his hiding place and induced him to return.  There was a terrible scene with his father, who had discovered that his son was more than perverse, he was a traitor—­the center of a conspiracy, and in close relations with his enemies at home and abroad, betraying his interests to Germany and to Sweden.

The plan, instigated by Eudoxia, was that Alexis, immediately upon the death of his father—­which God was importuned to hasten—­should return to Moscow, restore the picturesque old barbarism, abandon the territory on the Baltic, and the infant navy, and the city of his father’s love; in other words, that he should scatter to the winds the prodigious results of his father’s reign!  It was monstrous—­and so was its punishment!  Eudoxia was whipped and placed in close confinement, and thirty conspirators, members of her “court,” were in various ways butchered.  Then Alexis, the confessed traitor, was tried by a tribunal at the head of which was Menschikof—­and sentenced to death.

On the morning of the 27th of June, 1718, the Tsar summoned his son to appear before nine of the greatest officers of the state.  Concerning what happened, the lips of those nine men were forever sealed.  But the day following it was announced that Alexis, the son of the emperor, was dead; and it is believed that he died under the knout.