To the Same.
“18th January 1868.
“Dear Madame Massart,—I found quite a pile of letters on my return from Moscow, among them one that gave me even greater pleasure than yours; you can guess from whom it came.
“Yours, nevertheless, rejoices me too.
“The Michael Square is noiseless under its snowy mantle; crows, pigeons and sparrows stir not; sledges have ceased to run; there is a great funeral—that of Prince Dolgorouki—at which the Emperor and all the Court were present.
“My programme for Saturday is settled.
“Oh! the joy when I lay down my baton at the end of Harold and say:
“‘In three days I start for Paris.’
“I cannot stand this climate, although I felt better in Moscow. Such enthusiasm there!
“The first concert was in the Riding School and there were ten thousand six hundred people present. And when they applauded the Offertory from my Requiem, with its two-note chorus, I must own that the uncommon religious feeling shown by that mighty crowd, went to my heart.