I will now speak of a man I frequently saw for whom I entertained a lively friendship, and who, after wearing a crown, was then living in St. Petersburg as a private gentleman. This was Stanislaus Augustus Poniatowski, Poland's last king. In my early youth I had heard this prince, who had not then ascended the throne, talked of by people in the habit of meeting him at Mme. Geoffrin's, where he often went to dinner. All his companions of that date praised his amiability and his good looks. For his good or his harm--it is difficult to decide which--he made a journey to St. Petersburg. Catherine II. showed him every distinction, and helped him with all her might to become King of Poland. Poniatowski was crowned in September of the year 1764. But this same Catherine destroyed her own work and overthrew the monarch she had so heartily helped. The ruin of Poland once determined, Replin and Stachelberg, the Russian envoys, became the actual rulers of this unfortunate kingdom, and so remained until the day it ceased to exist. Their court became more numerous than that of the Prince, whom they continually insulted with impunity, and who was king in name only. Stanislaus Augustus Poniatowski was kind-hearted and very brave, but perhaps he wanted the necessary energy to hold down the spirit of rebellion reigning in his country. He did everything to make himself agreeable to the nobility and the people, and he partly succeeded. But there were so many disorderly interior elements, in addition to the scheme of the three great neighbouring powers for the seizure of Poland, that it would have been a miracle had he triumphed. He ultimately succumbed and retired to Grodno, where he lived on a pension allowed him by Russia, Prussia and Austria, who had divided his kingdom between them. After the death of Catherine II., the Emperor Paul invited Poniatowski to St. Petersburg, to be present at his coronation. During the whole ceremony, which was very long, the ex-king was allowed to stand, which, in view of his advanced years, pained everybody there. Paul afterward behaved more civilly when he asked him to stay at St. Petersburg, and lodged him in a marble palace to be seen on a fine quay of the Neva. The King of Poland was now suitably housed. He created an agreeable social circle for himself, largely composed of French, to whom were added some other foreigners he wished to honour. He was so extremely good as to seek me out, to bid me to his private parties, and he called me his "dear friend," as Prince Kaunitz did at Vienna. Nothing touched me more than to hear him repeat that it would have made him glad to have me at Warsaw while he was still king. I was aware, in fact, how at that time, some one having told him I was going to Poland, he had replied that he would treat me with the greatest distinction. But I am sure that every allusion to the past must have been very painful to him.