Very often during the Congress I heard Koslowski refer to the particulars of that familiar intercourse, of which, despite the difference in their years--for that difference consisted of a decade--he cherished a lively recollection. ‘The learning of the Duc d’Orléans surprises and confounds me; on no matter what subject, whether it be a scientific, an historical, or a politico-economical one, he not only holds his own with me, but beats me. What, however, I admire most in him is his courage in misfortune, and his profound knowledge of men. He sees them as they are; nevertheless, he judges them without the slightest bitterness. Proscribed from his country, he constantly has his eyes turned towards it, and has steadfastly refused to join those who would reconquer it by force of arms. The saying: “They have learnt nothing; they have forgotten nothing,” does not apply to him. Both as a man and as a prince, he belongs to his time.’ The Comtesse Zichy gave a grand ball, which was to be honoured by the presence of the sovereigns. The sole topic of conversation in the capital was the fire of the previous night, which had robbed the city of one of its handsomest ornaments. The damage, estimated at several millions, was absolutely irreparable from the point of view of art. But oblivion came quickly in those days, and by evening the excitement had largely subsided, and the courtiers’ greatest interest seemed to be the study of the sovereigns’ faces, inasmuch as the rumour ran that the most important questions had been settled, that the sweetest accord reigned between those rulers of the world, and that the opening of the new year would be signalised by the proclamation of some great decisions and the declaration of a general peace.