nished than the one preceding, and in most of
them was a picture of the master of the house, either full or half
length. Before leading us to table Prince Kurakin showed us his
bedchamber, which surpassed all the rest in elegance. The bed,
standing on a raised platform laid with superb carpets, was encircled
by richly draped columns. Two statues and two vases with flowers stood
at the four corners of the platform; chairs of exquisite taste and
divans of great price rendered this room a habitation worthy of Venus.
To reach the dining-room we traversed broad corridors, both sides of
which were lined with liveried serfs holding torches, which made me
feel as though I was taking part in some grave and solemn ceremony.
During the dinner invisible musicians overhead diverted us with the
horn-playing I have already referred to. Prince Kurakin's large
fortune allowed him to maintain the establishment of a king. He was an
excellent man, politely obliging toward his equals, and not in the
least haughty to his inferiors.

I also dined with Prince Galitzin, universally sought after because of
his affable and friendly ways. Although he was too old to sit down to
table with his guests, forty in number, the luxurious and very
abundant dinner nevertheless lasted more than three hours, which tired
me inexpressibly, especially as I was placed opposite a tall window
through which came a blinding light. To me this banquet seemed
unendurable, but by way of compensation I had the pleasure, before
eating, of going through a fine gallery containing pictures by great
masters, mixed, it is true, with some that were rather mediocre.
Prince Galitzin, whom age and illness kept to his armchair, had
charged his nephew with doing me the honours. This young man, being
ignorant of painting, limited himself to explaining the subjects as
best he could, and I had difficulty in refraining from laughter when,
before a picture representing Psyche, being unable to pronounce the
name, he gave me the information, "That is Fiche."

This long meal at Prince Galitzin's reminds me of another, which
probably never ended at all. I had engaged to dine with a big, stout,
enormously wealthy banker of Moscow. We were eighteen at table; never
in my life did I see such a collection of ugly and insignificant
faces--typical faces of money-makers. When I had looked at them all
once I dared not raise my eyes again, for fear of meeting one of those
visages. There was no conver