Strangers are generally well treated in Vienna. The inhabitants are cordially hospitable; the authorities conciliatory and frank. In return for this, strangers are only asked to abstain from speaking or acting against the Government. On those conditions the welcome never fails; but woe to the stranger who transgresses those laws of prudence. He immediately gets a little note inviting him to present himself next morning before the magistrate entrusted with the police supervision of the capital. In the sweetest tones imaginable he receives a hint of his passport ‘not being quite in order’ and that by this time the business which brought him to the city must be terminated. In vain does he remonstrate, and protest his loyalty to all constituted authorities. In vain does he insist upon his simple wish to enjoy the sweet life of the capital. It is all ineffectual, he is bound to depart. This, at normal periods, is the method of the Vienna police. It is, however, easy to understand that at the time of the Congress, and amid so many questions of intense interest, it would have been difficult to prevent political speculation and conversation. Fortunately, the Austrian Government found a powerful auxiliary in the general pursuit of pleasure. In reality, little or no attention was paid to diplomatic discussions. With the exception of some idlers or journalists who had selected the Graben for their meeting-place and rostrum, society was engrossed with the pleasures of the fête of the hour, or with preparations for that of the next day. [Illustration: COUNT NESSELRODE.] The utmost secrecy was observed with regard to the deliberations taking place at the official residence of the Chancellor of State. M. de Metternich presided at these. His colleagues had wished to bestow that honour upon him in recognition of the gracious hospitality accorded to them. It had been agreed, however, that the chairmanship implied no supremacy in favour of the Austrian crown. The plenipotentiaries were: for Russia, the Comte de Nesselrode[27] and the Baron de Stein; for France, the Prince de Talleyrand and the Duc de Dalberg; for Prussia, the Prince d’Hardemberg; for Austria, M. de Metternich; for Würtemberg, the Comte de Wintzingerode; for Bavaria, the Prince de Wrède; for Spain, the Chevalier de Labrador; for Portugal, the Duc de Palmella; for Sicily, the Commandeur Alvaro Ruffo; and for Naples, the Duc de Campochiaro. What happened at those most secret sittings of these famous diplomatists? It is not my province to speculate upon the subject; it belongs to posterity to appreciate the grave results.