procurable witnesses (why he is the most trustworthy will be seen
presently), Nicholas Chopin's migration to Poland came about in
this way. A Frenchman had established in Warsaw a manufactory of
tobacco, which, as the taking of snuff was then becoming more and
more the fashion, began to flourish in so high a degree that he
felt the need of assistance. He proposed, therefore, to his
countryman, Nicholas Chopin, to come to him and take in hand the
book-keeping, a proposal which was readily accepted.

The first impression of the young Lorrainer on entering the land
of his dreams cannot have been altogether of a pleasant nature.
For in the summer of 1812, when, we are told, the condition of
the people had been infinitely ameliorated by the Prussian and
Russian governments, M. de Pradt, Napoleon's ambassador, found
the nation in a state of semi-barbarity, agriculture in its
infancy, the soil parched like a desert, the animals stunted, the
people, although of good stature, in a state of extreme poverty,
the towns built of wood, the houses filled with vermin, and the
food revolting. This picture will not escape the suspicion of
being overdrawn. But J.G. Seume, who was by no means over-
squeamish, and whom experience had taught the meaning of "to
rough it," asserts, in speaking of Poland in 1805, that, Warsaw
and a few other places excepted, the dunghill was in most houses
literally and without exaggeration the cleanest spot, and the
only one where one could stand without loathing. But if the
general aspect of things left much to be desired from a
utilitarian point of view, its strangeness and picturesqueness
would not fail to compensate an imaginative youth for the want of
order and comfort. The strong contrast of wealth and poverty, of
luxury and distress, that gave to the whole country so melancholy