Catharine had for some time been meditating a marriage for her son, the Grand Duke Paul.  There was a grand duchy in Germany, on the Rhine, almost equally divided by that stream, called Darmstadt.  It contained three thousand nine hundred square miles, being about half the size of the State of Massachusetts, and embraced a population of nearly a million.  The Duke of Darmstadt had three very attractive daughters, either one of whom, Catharine thought, would make a very suitable match for her son.  She accordingly invited the three young ladies, with their mother, to visit her court, that her son might, after a careful scrutiny, take his pick.  The brilliance of the prospective match with the tzar of all the Russias outweighed every scruple, and the invitation was eagerly accepted.  Paul was cold as an iceberg, stubborn as a mule and crack-brained, but he could place on the brow of his spouse the crown of an empress.  Catharine received her guests with the greatest magnificence, loaded them with presents, and finally chose one of them, Wilhelmina, for the bride of Paul.  The marriage was solemnized on the 10th of November, 1773, with all the splendor with which the Russian court could invest the occasion, the festivities being continued from the 10th to the 21st of the month.

Catharine, with her own hand, kept up a regular correspondence with many literary and scientific men in other parts of Europe, particularly with Voltaire and Diderot, the illustrious philosophers of France.  Several times she sent them earnest invitations to visit her court.  Diderot accepted her invitation, and was received with confiding and friendly attentions which no merely crowned head could have secured.  Diderot sat at the table of the empress, and daily held long social interviews with her, conversing upon politics, philosophy, legislation, freedom of conscience and the rights of nations.  Catharine was charmed with the enthusiasm and eloquence of her guest, but she perfectly appreciated the genius and the puerility combined in his character.

“Diderot,” said she, “is a hundred years old in many respects, but in others he is no more than ten.”

The following letter from Catharine to Diderot, written with all the freedom of the most confidential correspondence, gives a clearer view of the character of Catharine’s mind, and of her energy, than any description could give.

“Now we are speaking of haughtiness, I have a mind to make a general confession to you on that head.  I have had great successes during this war; that I am glad of it, you will very naturally conclude.  I find that Russia will be well known by this war.  It will be seen how indefatigable a nation it is; that she possesses men of eminent merit, and who have all the qualities which go to the forming of heroes.  It will be seen that she is deficient in no resources, but that she can defend herself and prosecute a war with vigor whenever she is unjustly attacked.