Madame de Krudener had come to Paris, and established herself in a house adjoining the Elysée Bourbon, where she held what would now be called “drawing-room meetings,” to which all the rank and fashion of Paris were flocking. It was strange that for once religious meetings became the rage in the very stronghold of ungodliness, vice, and frivolity. Many of the visitors had their curiosity piqued by the extraordinary reports that reached them, and wished to ascertain the truth for themselves; many more “went to scoff,” and of these a goodly number “remained to pray.”[64] But the greatest attraction to these _soirées_ was the hope of seeing the Emperor of Russia--a hope, however, not often gratified. Far from parading his religion, Alexander was strongly tempted to conceal it. His sensitive nature dreaded ridicule; and he was well aware that a profession of personal religion would expose him to the most polished shafts of that exquisite Parisian wit, which, keen as the scimitar of Saladin, could divide asunder, with fine, unerring touch, the most delicate fibres of thought and feeling. Even in Protestant London--which he always placed in honourable contrast to Paris for seriousness and morality--he had observed that religious laymen were looked upon almost with contempt. It was therefore not without much prayer and conflict that he took his stand on the side of God in the face of all the world. He did not often mingle with the throng that filled the drawing-rooms of Madame de Krudener to overflowing on three or four evenings of every week; but he frequently came later, when his day’s work was over, for prayer and quiet study of the Scriptures. These hours of communion were prolonged until far into the night; yet he always rose at five in the morning, so that no man was able to reproach him with any lack of diligence in business, nor was any part of the heavy burden of care and responsibility that fell to his lot neglected or avoided. Clémence would gladly have accompanied Ivan to some of Madame de Krudener’s meetings; and Madame de Talmont, though she had her objections, might have gone also, but for the determined opposition of Madame de Salgues. “In my time,” said the lady of the old régime, “women did not preach; and certainly, if they had done so, ‘gens comme il faut’ would not have gone to hear them. Why should you need Madame de Krudener to tell you to repent and believe? I suppose you hear those Christian duties inculcated every Sunday and holiday when you go to church.” “Many people go to hear Madame de Krudener who never enter a church,” Clémence observed. “That is possible,” returned Madame de Salgues. “Sick people, who will not eat wholesome food, sometimes take a fancy for extraordinary messes, and a wise doctor gives them their way. But you, my dear niece, are certainly not in that position.” “Madame de Krudener does not always speak; sometimes it is M. Empaytaz, a Swiss pastor, who gives the address,” Clémence ventured again.