She too had the sage Leibnitz often with her, at Berlin; no end to her questionings of him; eagerly desirous to draw water from that deep well,--a wet rope, with cobwebs sticking to it, too often all she got; endless rope, and the bucket never coming to view.

Which, however, she took patiently, as a thing according to Nature.

She had her learned Beausobres and other Reverend Edict-of-Nantes gentlemen, famed Berlin divines; whom, if any Papist notability, Jesuit ambassador or the like, happened to be there, she would set disputing with him, in the Soiree at Charlottenburg.

She could right well preside over such a battle of the Cloud-Titans, and conduct the lightnings softly, without explosions.
There is a pretty and very characteristic Letter of hers, still pleasant to read, though turning on theologies now fallen dim enough; addressed to Father Vota, the famous Jesuit, King's-confessor, and diplomatist, from Warsaw, who had been doing his best in one such rencontre before her Majesty (date March, 1703),--seemingly on a series of evenings, in the intervals of his diplomatic business; the Beausobre champions being introduced to him successively, one each evening, by Queen Sophie Charlotte.

To all appearance the fencing had been keen; the lightnings in need of some dexterous conductor.