ce Czartoryski, blinded by the desire of vengeance, persuaded the
Diet that to give the two sovereigns these titles would be merely a form,
and that they would never become anything more than honorary. This might
be so, but if Poland had possessed far-seeing statesmen they would have
guessed that an honorary title would end in the usurpation of the whole
country.

The Russian palatin had the pleasure of seeing his nephew Stanislas
Poniatowski on the throne.

I myself told him that these titles gave a right, and that the promise
not to make any use of them was a mere delusion. I added jokingly--for I
was obliged to adopt a humorous tone--that before long Europe would take
pity on Poland, which had to bear the heavy weight of all the Russias and
the kingdom of Prussia as well, and the Commonwealth would find itself
relieved of all these charges.

My prophecy has been fulfilled. The two princes whose titles were allowed
have torn Poland limb from limb; it is now absorbed in Russia and
Prussia.

The second great mistake made by Poland was in not remembering the
apologue of the man and the horse when the question of protection
presented itself.

The Republic of Rome became mistress of the world by protecting other
nations.

Thus Poland came to ruin through ambition, vengeance, and folly--but
folly most of all.

The same reason lay at the root of the French Revolution. Louis XVI. paid
the penalty of his folly with his life. If he had been a wise ruler he
would still be on the throne, and France would have escaped the fury of
the Revolutionists. France is sick; in any other country this sickness
might be remedied, but I would not wonder if it proved incurable in
France.

Certain emotional persons are moved to pity by the emigrant French
nobles, but for my part I think them only worthy of contempt. Instead of
parading their pride and their disgrace before the eyes of foreign
nations, they should have rallied round their king, and either have saved
the throne or died under its ruins. What will become of France? It was
hard to say; but it is certain that a body without a head cannot live
very long, for reason is situate in the head.

On December 1st Baron Pittoni begged me to call on him as some one had
come from Venice on purpose to see me.

I dressed myself hastily, and went to the baron's, where I saw a
fine-looking man of thirty-five or forty, elegantly dressed. He looked at
me with the liveliest interest.

"M