I spent some time at Leipsic, where I applied myself to the study of the law of nations, and the German and English languages.  I afterwards travelled through Prussia and Poland, and passed a part of the winter of 1791 and 1792 at Warsaw, where I was most graciously received by Princess Tyszicwiez, niece of Stanislaus Augustus, the last King of Poland, and the sister of Prince Poniatowski.  The Princess was very well informed, and was a great admirer of French literature:  At her invitation I passed several evenings in company with the King in a circle small enough to approach to something like intimacy.  I remember that his Majesty frequently asked me to read the Moniteur; the speeches to which he listened with the greatest pleasure were those of the Girondists.  The Princess Tyszicwiez wished to print at Warsaw, at her own expense, a translation I had executed of Kotzebue’s ’Menschenhass and Reue, to which I gave the title of ‘L’Inconnu’.

     —­[A play known on the English stage as The Stranger.]—­

I arrived at Vienna on the 26th of March 1792, when I was informed of the serious illness of the Emperor, Leopold ii, who died on the following day.  In private companies, and at public places, I heard vague suspicions expressed of his having been poisoned; but the public, who were admitted to the palace to see the body lie in state, were soon convinced of the falsehood of these reports.  I went twice to see the mournful spectacle, and I never heard a word which was calculated to confirm the odious suspicion, though the spacious hall in which the remains of the Emperor were exposed was constantly thronged with people.

In the month of April 1792 I returned to Paris, where I again met Bonaparte,

—­[Bonaparte is said, on very doubtful authority, to have spent five or six weeks in London in 1791 or 1792, and to have “lodged in a house in George Street, Strand.  His chief occupation appeared to be taking pedestrian exercise in the streets of London—­hence his marvellous knowledge of the great metropolis which used to astonish any Englishmen of distinction who were not aware of this visit.  He occasionally took his cup of chocolate at the ‘Northumberland,’ occupying himself in reading, and preserving a provoking taciturnity to the gentlemen in the room; though his manner was stern, his deportment was that of a gentleman.”  The story of his visit is probably as apocryphal as that of his offering his services to the English Government when the English forces wore blockading the coast of Corsica,]—­

and our college intimacy was fully renewed.  I was not very well off, and adversity was hanging heavily on him; his resources frequently failed him.  We passed our time like two young fellows of twenty-three who have little money and less occupation.  Bonaparte was always poorer than I. Every day we conceived some new project or other.  We were on the look-out for some profitable speculation.  At one time he wanted me to join him in renting several houses, then building in the Rue Montholon, to underlet them afterwards.  We found the demands of the landlords extravagant—­everything failed.