Yan had done his best, and though that best was good, and Bohemia, Hungary, and the Hereditary States had provided their most delicate edibles, a dinner at the Court would no doubt have been more perfect in every respect. It was, however, a tavern repast, where every one paid his own share; and that novelty had seemed so strange to the crowned heads, or to the heads fated to wear a crown, that no one was absent. It was, indeed, a strange and curious spectacle. Every one remembers the banquet where Voltaire made Candide dine with seven deposed kings at Venice. Since then, no one had ever seen so many forgathered in a tavern or restaurant. If the number of those who sat down at the Augarten was not absolutely the same, at least they were not deposed, but crowned in real earnest, and very resplendent. The inverse comparison, in fact, presented itself to everybody’s mind. Involuntarily also, the mind reverted to some of those functions where the kings pressed around Napoleon the victorious; a few spoke about it, but in nothing louder than a whisper. During the first part of the repast, the music played the national airs of the different countries. At the second course, the admiral, like the good Englishman he was, and faithful to the traditions of his country, got on his legs, and spared neither the toasts nor the speeches. The subject of his own was, naturally, in connection with the object of the gathering; and though it dragged, no member of the ‘Order of Mercy’ could have preached with greater unction the redemption of the slaves. The result of his eloquence was calculated to flatter him, for it amounted to several thousands of ducats. The emperors had each subscribed a thousand, and the others according to their fortunes or their philanthropy. Sidney Smith had concluded his speech, the dishes had run their course, the wines of Hungary, the Rhine, and Italy had been tasted, sipped, and lauded, according to their merit, and we were about to rise from the table, when suddenly there appeared the manager of Yan, who, between two symphonies of Haydn, claims of each of the guests the sum of three golden ducats, the price fixed for the banquet, the music, and the lights, the total amounting to about five thousand four hundred francs. Some months later, I happened to be in London at the dinner offered to the sovereigns by the City. The number of guests, truth to tell, was somewhat more considerable; the ball may also have been somewhat more numerously attended. The expense, though the fête was in nearly every respect similar, came to twenty thousand pounds. A different spot, a different total.