the leading authority in his profession in Moscow; his demeanour towards me was characterised throughout by modesty and consideration.  The orchestra consisted of the hundred musicians who provided the Imperial household with Italian opera and ballet.  It was, on the whole, far inferior to that of St. Petersburg, yet among them I found a small number of excellent quartette players, all devotedly attached to me.  Among these was one of my old Riga acquaintances, the ’cellist von Lutzau, who in those days had a great reputation as a wag.  But I was particularly pleased with a certain Herr Albrecht, a violinist, a brother of the Albrecht who was one of the party whose Russian fur caps had so scared me on my way to St. Petersburg.  But even these men could not dispel my feeling that in dealing with this Moscow orchestra I had descended in the artistic scale.  I gave myself a great deal of trouble without deriving any compensating satisfaction, and my bile was not a little stirred by the Russian tenor, who came to rehearsal in a red shirt, to show his patriotic aversion from my music, and sang the ‘Schmiede-Lieder’ of Siegfried in the insipid style acquired from the Italians.  On the very morning of the first concert I was obliged, to cancel it, and declare myself on the sick-list, with a bad, feverish cold.  In the slush and snow which inundated the streets of Moscow it seems to have been impossible to announce this fact to the public, and I heard that angry disturbances resulted when many splendid equipages arrived on a fruitless errand and had to be turned away.  After three days’ rest I insisted on giving the three concerts I had contracted for within six days, an exertion to which I was spurred by a desire to have done with an undertaking I felt was not worthy of me.  Although the Grand Theatre was filled on each occasion with a brilliant audience such as I had never before seen, yet, according to the calculations of the Imperial manager, the receipts did not exceed the amount of the guarantee.  With this, however, I was content, considering the magnificent reception accorded to my efforts, and above all the fervid enthusiasm of the orchestra, which was expressed here as it had been in St. Petersburg.  A deputation of members of the orchestra begged me to give a fourth concert, and on my refusal, they tried to persuade me to remain for another ‘rehearsal,’ but this too I was compelled to decline with a smile.  However, the orchestra honoured me with a banquet, at which, after N. Rubinstein had made a very enthusiastic and appropriate speech, which was greeted with hearty and tumultuous applause, one of the company hoisted me on to his shoulders and carried me round the hall; whereupon there was a great outcry, and every one wanted to render me the same kindly service.  I was presented on this occasion with a gold snuff-box from the members of the orchestra, on which was engraved the words ’Doch Einer kam,’ from Siegmund’s song in the Walkure.  I returned the compliment by presenting to the orchestra a large photograph of myself, on which I wrote the words ‘Keiner ging,’ from the same song.