iged the King of Poland to live at Warsaw, as the Prussians
occupied the whole electorate of Saxe. I had not seen my brother for ten
years, and I kept our meeting as a holiday. I was sitting down to table
when he came, and we embraced each other with transport. We spent an hour
in telling, he his small adventures, and I my grand ones, and he told me
that I should not stay at the hotel, which was too dear, but come and
live at the Chevalier Mengs's house, which contained an empty room, where
I could stay at a much cheaper rate.

"As to your table, there is a restaurant in the house where one can get a
capital meal."

"Your advice is excellent," said I, "but I have not the courage to follow
it, as I am in love with my landlord's daughter;" and I told him what had
happened the night before.

"That's a mere nothing," said he, laughing; "you can cultivate her
acquaintance without staying in the house."

I let myself be persuaded, and I promised to come to him the following
day; and then we proceeded to take a walk about Rome.

I had many interesting memories of my last visit, and I wanted to renew
my acquaintance with those who had interested me at that happy age when
such impressions are so durable because they touch the heart rather than
the mind; but I had to make up my mind to a good many disappointments,
considering the space of time that had elapsed since I had been in Rome.

I went to the Minerva to find Donna Cecilia; she was no more in this
world. I found out where her daughter Angelica lived, and I went to see
her, but she gave me a poor reception, and said that she really scarcely
remembered me.

"I can say the same," I replied, "for you are not the Angelica I used to
know. Good-bye, madam!"

The lapse of time had not improved her personal appearance. I found out
also where the printer's son, who had married Barbaruccia, lived, but--I
put off the pleasure of seeing him till another time, and also my visit
to the Reverend Father Georgi, who was a man of great repute in Rome.
Gaspar Vivaldi had gone into the country.

My brother took me to Madame Cherubini. I found her mansion to be a
splendid one, and the lady welcomed me in the Roman manner. I thought her
pleasant and her daughters still more so, but I thought the crowd of
lovers too large and too miscellaneous. There was too much luxury and
ceremony, and the girls, one of whom was as fair as Love himself, were
too polite to everybody. An interesting que