to get Esterhazy replaced
by another Ambassador. It is probable that the Count was in connivance
with them about all this, but anybody was surely little acquainted
with me who did not know that I was too busy with my art to give any
time to politics, even if I had not always felt an aversion to
everything smacking of intrigue. Moreover, aside from the honour of
being lodged with the Empress and the pleasure of inhabiting such a
fine place, everything would have been stiff and irksome for me at
Czarskoiesielo. I have always had the greatest need to enjoy my
liberty, and, for the sake of following my own inclination, I have
always infinitely preferred living in my own house.

Moreover, the reception I met with in Russia was well calculated to
console me for a petty court intrigue. I cannot say how eagerly and
with what kind-hearted affability a stranger is sought after in this
country, especially if possessing some talent. My letters of
introduction became quite superfluous; not only was I at once invited
to live with the best and pleasantest families, but I found several
former acquaintances in St. Petersburg, and even some old friends.
First, there was Count Strogonoff, a true lover of the arts, whose
portrait I had painted at Paris in my early youth. It was to us both
an extreme pleasure to meet once more. He owned a splendid collection
of pictures in St. Petersburg, and near the town, at Kaminostroff, a
delightful Italian villa, where he gave a great dinner every Sunday.
He called for me to take me there, and I was enraptured with the
place. The villa stood by the high road, and its windows overlooked
the Neva. The garden, whose boundaries were immense, was laid out in
the English manner. A number of boats arrived from all directions,
bringing visitors to Count Strogonoff's, for a number of people who
were not invited to dinner came to walk in the park. The Count also
allowed merchants to set up their stalls there, so that this beautiful
place was enlivened with an amusing fair, especially as the costumes
of the different neighbouring districts were picturesque and varied.

About three o'clock we went up on a covered terrace lined with
pillars, bright daylight falling between them from every side. On one
hand we enjoyed the view of the park, and on the other that of the
Neva, covered with a thousand boats. The weather was the finest in the
world, for the summers are splendid in Russia, a country that in July
I have