by the brilliance and magnificence of their courts were the Princes Czartoryski and Radziwill, Count Potocki, and Bishop Soltyk of Cracovia.  Our often-quoted English traveller informs us that the revenue of Prince Czartoryski amounted to nearly 100,000 pounds per annum, and that his style of living corresponded with this income.  The Prince kept an open table at which there rarely sat down less than from twenty to thirty persons. [Footnote:  Another authority informs us that on great occasions the Czartoryskis received at their table more than twenty thousand persons.] The same informant has much to say about the elegance and luxury of the Polish nobility in their houses and villas, in the decoration and furniture of which he found the French and English styles happily blended.  He gives a glowing account of the fetes at which he was present, and says that they were exquisitely refined and got up regardless of expense.

Whatever changes the national character of the Poles has undergone in the course of time, certain traits of it have remained unaltered, and among these stands forth predominantly their chivalry.  Polish bravery is so universally recognised and admired that it is unnecessary to enlarge upon it.  For who has not heard at least of the victorious battle of Czotzim, of the delivery of Vienna, of the no less glorious defeats of Maciejowice and Ostrolenka, and of the brilliant deeds of Napoleon’s Polish Legion?  And are not the names of Poland’s most popular heroes, Sobieski and Kosciuszko, household words all the world over?  Moreover, the Poles have proved their chivalry not only by their valour on the battle-field, but also by their devotion to the fair sex.  At banquets in the good olden time it was no uncommon occurrence to see a Pole kneel down before his lady, take off one of her shoes, and drink out of it.  But the women of Poland seem to be endowed with a peculiar power.  Their beauty, grace, and bewitching manner inflame the heart and imagination of all that set their eyes on them.  How often have they not conquered the conquerors of their country? [Footnote:  The Emperor Nicholas is credited with the saying:  “Je pourrais en finir des Polonais si je venais a bout des Polonaises.”] They remind Heine of the tenderest and loveliest flowers that grow on the banks of the Ganges, and he calls for the brush of Raphael, the melodies of Mozart, the language of Calderon, so that he may conjure up before his readers an Aphrodite of the Vistula.  Liszt, bolder than Heine, makes the attempt to portray them, and writes like an inspired poet.  No Pole can speak on this subject without being transported into a transcendental rapture that illumines his countenance with a blissful radiance, and inspires him with a glowing eloquence which, he thinks, is nevertheless beggared by the matchless reality.